#the rest of the uniform is pretty okay
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da-shrimping-station · 1 year ago
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whomst the fuckk designed the RAD uniforms??? like
trying to figure it out for drawing purposes is a chore ESPECIALLY the whole shoulder situation. i yoinked Asmo's card to use as reference
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red cape? aight that looks fine. fancy enough but how does it...fold? im sure the underside is sewn under the collar and into the jacket shoulder but im??? honestly i'd be bothered to try and keep that in place cuz my brain thinks it's bothersome
next is that gold stripe below the cape. is that necessary? would've loved that as a breastpocket instead
other shoulder! man that RAD medal looks HEAVY. the tassel and rope make it look even more so! i'd be so bothered by that. imagine running and how much that's gonna smack against your shoulder
and then there's another cape thingy...i mean okay i've seen some coats have that but
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is this how the jacket closes? that doesn't look too secure imo. the overlap bothers me so much
the collar asymmetry....yk if the collars were even, we could use one to put brooches/pins on it. would've loved that. adds some room for personalisation. imagine MC having a lil sheep pin??? so fckin cute
lastly: POCKETS do we have pockets on the jacket cuz COME ON
maybe im a lil biased cuz in all my years of schooling, i wore uniforms. that's the norm where im from. like, my HS uniform had a breastpocket with a lil color coded stripe to indicate your year level. my college uniform, the blouse had TWO POCKETS BIG ENOUGH TO FIT MY PHONE (probably as compensation for the girls wearing pencil skirts)
love me some pockets yk?
anywayyyyy that's it for my rant gonna go back to drawing outfits for my MC Aren. just wanted to get the uniform out of the way first (send help)
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months ago
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three times
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a/n: some time ago i asked you guys on a poll what dude you wanted in this story and you all chose bucky, so here it is! also, i partly blame you all for how unhinged it turned out... like you get maybe 6,69% of the blame for the push you gave me... the rest is just me being a hoe
summary: a tale of the three times a nurse was kidnapped by new york’s most notorious gang. 
warnings: dark!mob boss!bucky barnes x nurse!reader x doctor!peter parker, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, mob au, mobsters!steve rogers, clint barton, tony stark, scott lang, bruce banner, the gang is called the avengers, doctor!kate bishop, enemies to lovers, kidnapping, violence, weapons, blood, being drugged, alcohol consumption, possessiveness, kissing, clothed x completely naked, panty sniffing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, gaping, belly bulge, oral, fingering, fisting, pussyjob, in bucky's mind it's brat taming, dumbification, impact play, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, somno, bondage, mild knife play, mild gunplay, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay
word count: 11.574
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You flinched jaggedly as the dark cloth bag was finally ripped off your head. Eyes immediately squinting, they still strained to take in the unfamiliar space you’d been dragged to. 
You were no longer in the hospital’s dark parking lot, nor were you in the black van you’d suddenly been tossed into, but instead, you found yourself in a dark living room. It was elegantly decorated, from the Persian rug to the dramatic, antique fireplace flicking behind the cluster of suit-clad criminals glaring down at you. 
“This her?” one of them grumbled. 
“Yep, one doctor as per your request,” the one who’d abducted you grinned, proudly planting a palm on his hip, “even choose a pretty one just for shits and giggles,” his starkly different mannerisms only made the others seem that much more intimidating. 
The broad-figured one with a shock of sandy hair then stepped closer to where you stood, “alright, here’s the thing, doc,” his head tilted slightly to get on your level as he spoke to you directly, “you’re gonna do exactly as we say and then everything will be alright, okay?” he stared in your eyes as you offered him a shaky nod, “okay,” he exhaled, “you got a name?”
“Y/n Y/l/n…” you uttered before hearing yourself try to correct, “but I–…”
“But what?” the same man croaked. 
“I-I’m not a doctor…”
“God damn it!” someone rumbled as everyone’s eyes flicked to the man who’d captured you, “we can’t fucking trust the new guy to do anything.”
“Well, she’s wearing scrubs,” he tried, frantically gesturing to your uniform, “I just thought–”
“You fucked up, Lang!” the first man who you’d heard speak barked loudly, “and now we’re not just gonna lose one of our brothers tonight, but also the head of the snake. Great fucking job,” a sharp click then caused your eyes to find the gun he yanked out, “and now she gotta die as well–”
“Wait!” you shrieked as both of your palms shot up in the air, “no! Please don’t kill me! I-I’m a nurse! I’m a nurse! I can help! Whoever’s hurt, I can help!”
Seemingly superior to the others present, the blonde one stared at you intensely for a while before exhaling a verdict, “shit… well, I guess it’s better than nothing…” his polished shoes then began to shuffle before he gestured to you, “come this way.” 
Hesitantly, you slowly shadowed him out of the living room, down a dim hallway, and into the chamber that bloomed at the bottom of the corridor. In the centre of the dark room, bathed by two glowing pendants, stood a large pool table, and upon the green felt, with colourful orbs haphazardly scatted all about, there laid a man, unconscious and bleeding. 
The brunette’s suit was sodden with crimson, though you couldn’t tell from here how much of it was his own. 
The gangster who was standing by the side and watching over the wounded individual glanced up at your arrival and asked his fellow men, “this the doctor?” 
“No, it’s a fucking stripper,” you twisted your neck at the sarcastic tone as the guy who’d only moments ago pulled a gun on you waltzed past you and entered the room as well, “yes, of course it is, Tony. How’s the boss?”
“Still alive,” he answered in a sigh and cast his glance back down upon the man on the pool table. 
Slowly stepping up, you carefully let your stare wash over the mobster, from the frazzled and blood-soaked attire to the metal-looking hand poking out one of the sleeves. 
“What happened?” you asked carefully. 
“Miss,” someone grumbled as they set a bag of supplies down beside you on the games table, “just fix him.” 
“If you wanna give your friend a better chance, then you give me as much information as possible about what happened to him,” you uttered as you found a pair of gloves and slipped them on. 
Letting out a sigh, the blonde fellow then said, “it was a shootout.”
Snatching up a pair of scissors, you began to snip in the man’s clothes, staring at the sleeve closest to you, “how many times was he shot?”
“I don’t know, he–… a lot of rounds went off,” he grunted, the events of the night weighting his broad shoulders down, “I wasn’t exactly counting.” 
Two bullets. That’s how many you found when his dress shirt was in tatters on the floor. One was lodged in his right arm four finger widths above his elbow, while the other had strayed a bit further north and buried itself in his bulky bicep. You also found other scrapes and scratches along his torso, assumingly from other bullets that hadn’t been as lucky as those two. 
The smallest of relieved sighs flowed from your lungs as you discovered that he wasn’t in a critical enough condition to be in need of a surgeon, at least not from what you could tell with the limited resources currently at your disposal. 
As you carefully set to work, first digging the bullets out before cleaning the wounds with saline, your lips slowly parted as you treaded a curved needle, “…so, not that I don’t love the change to my evening plans,” you didn’t dare shift your glance as you asked, “but don’t you have a regular guy for cleaning up these sorts of messes?” 
“We did… he died tonight, trying to stop that from happening,” the blonde man gestured to the injuries you began to stitch up. 
Blinking up to find his eye, you uttered sincerely, “I’m so sorry for your loss…” feeling yourself, even under such circumstances, uncontrollably slip into those compassionate parts of your profession. 
A slight scoff bubbled out of the gangster, taken aback by your unexpected gentleness, “yeah, me too. Banner was one hell of a guy…”
Once each of the wounds were sutured closed and you’d bandaged him up, you pushed yourself back from the pool table. 
“Alright,” you exhaled and glanced up at the criminals lurking in the shadows of the chamber, “I’m done.”
“Yeah?” one of them stepped up to get a better look, “he’s alright?”
“No, he’s not alright, he was shot multiple times and should be in a fucking hospital,” your eyes briefly fluttered shut as you heard yourself snap, “now, can I please go home?” 
Catching the eye of the blonde one, second in command, you watched as his jaw briefly clenched, the muscles dancing beneath his skin before he breathed, “no, you’re not done.”
“But I did exactly as you asked–”
“Like you said, he should be in a hospital right now, but we can’t have that happen, so instead, you’re gonna stay here till he’s out of the woods.” 
“What? I can’t–”
“You’re a nurse, right?” he croaked to shut you up, “so fucking do your job and nurse him back to health.”
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Three whole days ended up passing by before Mr Barnes slowly began to regain consciousness. 
“Oh, you’re awake!” you snapped back into work mode, springing from your seat and leaning in over the bed which he’d previously been moved into. As the mobster instinctively began to sit up, his eyes barely open yet, you laid a soft palm upon his metal arm and uttered, “sir, please don’t move,” and watched as his clenched jaw almost silenced a groan, “one second, I’ll give you something for the pain,” before you shifted a moment to scavenge through the supplies you’d been given. Once the medicine was found, you exhaled slowly as you injected it, gently pressing down the plunger of the syringe, “there you go…” 
You let yourself suck in a deep breath before your sharp eyes washed over him, briefly assessing him as he woke, though as your gaze flickered up to meet his own, initially with the intent of checking his pupillary response, the manner he stared back at you caught you so of guard that a shiver trickled down your spine.  
“Sir, do you know what your name is?” you asked in a clear tone. 
“Mhm…” he hummed and continued to stare at you as if you were an angel, “Bucky…” 
“Bucky, great, that’s good,” you nodded, “and do you know where you are?”
His gaze didn’t shift away from your visage as he then murmured, “heaven…”
“No, I assure you, you’re not dead,” grasping the stethoscope draped around your neck, you shifted it into place to take a quick listen to his heart, “you almost were, a few times, but you aren’t.” 
As the steady thumping of his pulse filled your ears and seeped into your soul, his deep voice washed over you once again and layered atop the beat, “I’m guessing you had something to do with that?” 
Catching his unwavering eye a moment, you then averted yours and muttered, “I was just doing my job…” before retracting the stethoscope from his chest and casting your glance towards the door, “I should probably go tell the others that you’re awake.” 
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TWO WEEKS LATER
“…and Mr Jensen in 401 is complaining of a headache, so you might wanna check that out as well.” 
“Alright, cool,” the doctor scribbled down the last of your words on the little notepad in his palm before his gaze flickered up to catch yours, “thank you so much, Y/n,” he flashed you a warm smile. 
Mirroring his expression, you hugged the charts in your grasp closer to your chest, “any time, Dr Parker.” 
“Peter, please,” his thumb extended to click the top of his blue pen before sliding it into the breast pocket of his white coat, “hey, I was gonna go grab a cup of coffee right now, do you wanna join?” he tried to keep his tone casual. 
Blinking back at him, your breath couldn’t help but get caught in your throat, “I–, uhm… I’d love to, but I get off in a little bit. Wednesdays are always just morning shifts for me.” 
“Oh, alright,” he nodded understandingly, though the gentle rejection still tainted his features slightly. 
“But another time,” you offered, successfully brightening his smile once more. 
“Yeah?” his elbow curled up to lean against the supportive railing that lined the hospital hallways. 
“Sure. I mean, I drink coffee, you drink coffee,” you awkwardly began to dig yourself into a hole, “the chances of us bumping into each other at the coffee cart are pretty high–” 
But your sentence was then cut short as Peter’s pager suddenly pinged in his pocket.
Fishing the small device out, his eyes flickered down to the small screen before he croaked, “oh, sorry. I gotta run.”
“Of course,” you swiftly waved a hand and watched as his feet began to shuffle into a run. 
“Talk later!” Peter called over his shoulder before he rounded a corner and disappeared into the maze of the hospital. 
Twisting around, your feet carried you the remaining distance towards the nurses’ station overlooking the ICU. As you laid the stack of files in your arms down on the counter, a familiar voice found your ears right before her visage popped into your periphery.
“Please tell me that that was what I think it was.” 
Your gaze stayed glued on the charts a moment longer as you ignored your friend’s prying, “hello to you too, Kate.”
When your head finally raised and you let her catch your eye, her wide ones questioned you before she expectantly poked once more, “well?”
“Well what?” you shrugged, though your feeble attempts at shutting the pending subject down failed as she shot you a glare, efficiently causing you to crumble with a sigh, “yes, he asked me out again–, or kinda. It was just coffee.”
“And you finally said yes?” she smiled keenly. 
Holding back your scoff, you simply uttered, “no,” before spinning on your heel. 
“Again?” she shuffled slightly to catch up to the pace you swiftly slipped into, “why not? He’s kind, he’s a doctor, he’s hot,” she listed off, counting on her fingers, “he’s literally perfect for you.”
“I know he is…” you tilted your head, almost with an air of shame, “he’s exactly the type of guy that I should be running after…” 
Though you liked him as a person and cared for him enough to call him your friend, those feelings you caught yourself forcing just hadn’t bubbled up yet. He was the kind of man that you deserved, that you should fall for, and certainly not the monster that still haunted you, that for some reason wouldn’t stop popping into your mind, especially at inappropriate times, like very late at night… 
“So then why aren’t you?” Kate asked as you entered the employee locker room.
And though thoughts of a gruff gangster caused your heart to swell, you still muttered, “I don’t know…” as an excuse before you popped open your locker and uttered, “hey… what do you know about mobsters here in the city?
“Other than the horror stories I’ve picked up in the ER, not too much,” she leaned against the row of cubbies beside your own as you dug out your bag and began to change out of your scrubs and back into the clothes you’d worn early this morning when the sun was still only a promise waiting to rise, “though I did grow up here, so I probably do know a bit more than you,” she acknowledged your move to the city only a few years prior, “why? Are you suddenly in the mood for a change in careers?”
Though the truth was on the tip of your tongue, you still found yourself obeying the commands the gangsters had sent you home with. Telling the cops was no use because they were all in their pockets, and confiding in a loved one also wasn’t a smart choice as that would only put them in danger. 
“Have you ever heard of someone called Bucky Barnes?” you asked, instinctively lowering your voice to a whisper. 
The ever light-hearted expression plastered upon Kate’s face fell at the recognition of that name, “yeah…”
“Really?” your brows rose, “what do you know about him?” 
“I mean, other than that he’s the supposed leader of the Avengers, not too much.”
“The Avengers?”
“Yeah, one of New York’s most notorious gangs,” she let out a breath, “from what little I know, they get up to a shit ton of stuff straight out of a De Niro movie or something, but their real money maker is cocaine… I mean, that’s why the head of the group is known as the winter soldier.” 
“How do you know about all this stuff?” you squinted back at her in slight amazement. 
“Went to med school with a few coke heads, might have dated one of them,” she blurted before shaking her head and getting back to the subject at hand, “anyways, Y/n, the point is, you don’t wanna mess with those types, trust me.” 
“I know,” you uttered quietly as you shrugged on your coat and pushed your locker closed, “I wasn’t planning on it, I was just curious…” 
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As you dragged your foaming toothbrush over the last of your teeth, a loud knock suddenly rattled your front door, causing you to jump atop the pink bathmat in your tiny bathroom. 
Neck twisted out towards the entryway of your apartment, you briefly leaned over the sink to spit out the toothpaste slowly leaking out of your mouth, before your feet began to carry you towards the exit. 
One of your palms momentarily ran over the edge of your pyjama-clad arm as the night chill soaked through the cotton and made you yearn for the warmth of your bed. 
Though as you pulled on the handle, the haunting figures on the other side of the door caused your blood to freeze with recognition. Standing tall on the other side of the threshold, there stood two of the Avengers’ henchmen. 
“You need to come with us,” the one called Barton ordered coldly. Over the few days the gang had held you captive, you’d picked up on the names of many of the members, including the two that stood before you now. 
“What?” your chest rose and fell rapidly, “I–, please, I swear, I haven’t told a soul.”
Having them knock at your door was one thing, but even just the thought of criminals such as them knowing where you lived sent you into a spiral. 
“Yeah, we know you haven’t,” Scott put a hand on the doorframe, “that’s not why we’re here.” 
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“What happened?” you murmured as you were led into one of the many sitting rooms in the mysterious manor they once again brought you to. In an armchair before you, half-empty glass of bourbon in metal hand and the sleeves rolled up on his blood-tainted shirt, there sat the big bad winter soldier himself, panting as he slowly sipped. 
Though when the sound of your voice filled the room, Bucky’s eyes only snapped up to yours for a moment before he shot a glare at his men.
“What is she doing here?” he grumbled lowly. 
“Boss, you busted your stitches,” Lang gestured tensely to the crimson slowly staining his crisp white shirt, “what else were we–”
Intersecting the conversation, the broad form of Steve stepped into the space between the gangsters and swiftly snuffed the pending argument out, “thank you, Barton, Lang,” he nodded to each of them, “you can go,” and you watched the pair that had brought you back exited the room. Shifting his weight, Bucky’s right hand man turned to you and offered you a polite smile, “Y/n, pleasure to see you again.”
“Yeah,” you exhaled, not masking your disdain of the situation you’d been dragged into yet again, “I wish I could say the same…” before you shifted your eyes to the man in the chair, though still directed your question at Steve, “what do you need me to do?” 
As you shifted closer to the intimidating leader, ever drinking, surely to dull the pain, Rogers murmured as you kneeled down to assess, “I think it’s just the one on his shoulder that’s–”
“Yeah, I see it,” you cut him off, then glanced back over your shoulder at him, “do you still have that medical bag?”
“Yeah, one second,” he swiftly disappeared to fetch it, leaving you all alone with the feared mob boss. 
With the crackling fireplace off to the side as your only source of light, you cautiously raised your hands and asked, “do you mind taking this off?” motioning to the shirt he wore. 
“Yeah, sure,” Bucky sighed and sat down his glass before shrugging the item off. Though you’d stared at his bare chest for hours on end before, soaking in his reveal once again for some reason caused your heartbeat to pick up, though you swiftly averted your gaze in an attempt at staying professional. 
Not long passed before Rogers had returned with the supplies, and you’d commenced redoing his stitches. 
“So,” you murmured though your concentration, weaving his skin back together, “do I even wanna know how this happened?”
Blinking down at you, your face close to your work and therefore his skin, Bucky breathed, “probably not...” and as his stare only intensified over the next few stitches, his low timbre once again washed over you as the corners of his lips tugged into the slightest of smirks, “cute PJs, by the way…”
“Yeah, I didn’t exactly get a chance to change,” you felt your cheeks heat up. 
“Oh, I'm not complaining,” his gaze shifted to take in the way the cool night air had caused your nipples to become visible like pebbles beneath the thin stripy fabric, the comment making you shift tensely on your knees. 
Once the last of the knots were tied off and you’d snipped the end of the thread, you wrapped the wounds back up with clean bandages before placing the roll of gauze back into the medical bag. 
“Alright, uhm,” you shifted back, “you’re good now,” a slight winch shot through you as you watched him briefly test out his arm’s mobility, “just be careful, try not to use it too much.”
Catching your eye, he uttered softly, “thank you,” before shifting his gaze to the gangster by the door, “Rogers?” 
“Yes, boss?”
“See to it that she gets home safe.”
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ONE MONTH LATER
“I’ve heard the risotto here is really good,” Peter noted as you both skimmed the menus resting on the tablecloth before you, the crystal chandeliers illuminating the restaurant cast a soft glow down upon the choices.  
“Yeah?” you briefly glanced up to catch the doctor’s eye, “well, maybe I should get that then,” you shrugged before shifting slightly in your seat, “hey,” you captured his gaze once more, “could you maybe order for me? I just need to–…” you trailed off, letting the thumb you discreetly pointed over your shoulder in the direction of the bathrooms fill out the rest of the sentence. 
“Oh, yeah, of course,” he nodded. 
“Great, thank you,” you smiled as you rose. The long, cobalt-blue, velvet dress you wore briefly swooshed around your legs before the soft click of your heels against the polished floors carried you through the maze of tables. 
It was the third date you’d ventured on with the kind doctor. The third one and yet you still didn’t have any feelings towards him. 
Stubbornly trying as you might, you still couldn’t get the poison out of your system and do the right thing. 
Once you exited the ladies’ room, and big breath of courage in your lungs as you pushed open the door, it all seeped out as you walked through the small hallway that connected the lavatories with the dining space, and you accidentally bumped into two figures that waited in the space. 
Unsure of who was to blame for the collision, you immediately just muttered, “oh, sorry–,” before you glanced up at the pair and your apology crumbled from your lips, your frame immediately freezing up at the recognition. 
“Listen to me. You are going to quietly walk back to your little date, tell him that you’re not feeling well and need to go home,” Stark kept his voice hushed as both he and the other gangster slowly cornered you, the other one grasping your arm to keep you in place, “and then you’re gonna come with us.”
Sucking in a breath, you then tilted your chin slightly, “and if I don’t?” 
“Then we won’t hesitate to make a scene,” Barton shifted the edge of his jacket out of the way to flash you the gun strapped beneath, “so you can either walk with us and safe a life or you can not only have a dying gangster’s blood on your hands, but also everyone in this fucking restaurant.”
With the clench of your jaw, you glared up at them and murmured, “...fine,” before you ripped your arm free and began to walk back into the dining area and the table where Peter still sat. 
Flashing you a smile as you neared, the doctor swiftly said, “so, I ordered this chardonnay that the waiter said was good. You drink wine, right?”
“I–, uhm…” your fingers clutched the back of the chair as you tried to appear as you had before, even though now you felt as if your hammering heart might spring straight out of your ribcage, “Peter, I’m really sorry, but I gotta go,” you briefly scrambled your brain before adding, “the hospital paged me. There was a big accident downtown.”
“Really?” he fished out his own beeper from his pocket and furrowed down at it, “I didn’t get paged, so it probably can’t be that bad.”
“Yeah, but nurses shortage, you know?” 
“Right,” he nodded, disappointment slightly polluting his understanding expression. 
“I'm really sorry,” you uttered as you picked up your small purse from the chair.
“No, it’s fine,” he shook his head gently, “hey, I get it,” he shrugged before waving a hand, “go.”
“Thank you,” you stood there a moment longer, unsure of how you should depart, “uhm… bye,” before you awkwardly shifted closer to his seat and leaned down to press a brief kiss to his cheek as you offered him a half-hearted hug. 
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“Who is it this time?” you sighed as you were led into an elegant space, surely intended for parties judging by the long bar that stretched along the back wall. Glaring at the only man seated on one of the barstools, you asked impatiently, “is it you? Did you hurt yourself again?”
Glancing over his shoulder as you halted your stride halfway down the short steps, a smile appeared on Bucky’s face as he leaned a forearm against the bar top and bellowed, “Y/n! Come, have a drink with me,” he waved a hand for you to take the seat beside him. 
Standing your ground, you squinted back at him in confusion, “no, I can’t, I–, where’s the patient?” 
“The patient?” he echoed as if you were speaking a foreign language. 
“Yes,” you huffed, your annoyance simmering into a full-on boil, “the person who’s on death’s door, the reason why I, a medical professional, is here,” you placed your hands on your hips and asked once again, “is it you?”
“No, I’m phenomenal,” he pursed his lips as he snatched up the stout glass waiting for him on the marble counter, “never been better.”
“Okay, so who is it?”
Tearing his gaze away from you, he then uttered, “no one,” before raising the drink up to his lips. As your mouth parted and your glare nearly burned straight through him, the mobster casually added, “you look stunning, by the way,” before twisting in his seat to face you more, “I didn’t know they changed scrubs out with gowns.” 
“No, I–, I was on a date–,” you muttered faintly through your confusion, slightly shaking your head in an attempt to clear it before you raised a hand, “wait, excuse me, no one’s injured?” 
“No,” Barnes shook his head, “no one’s hurt or dying,” then added as if your reaction was a tad bit too dramatic for his taste, “you can relax, it’s fine.”
But instead, the opposite emotions roiled inside of you as you slowly ascended a single one of the remaining steps, “so you mean to tell me that your men threatened me, my date and a whole restaurant of people, then dragged me all the way out here again, for nothing?” you fumed.
“No, it wasn’t for nothing,” he shrugged, “they brought you back here because I told them to,” he kept his ocean eyes upon you as he once again repeated, “now, come drink with me.” 
“No, I don’t want a fucking drink,” you roared. 
But then, just as swiftly as you had raised your voice, Bucky’s steely hand dipped beneath his suit jacket and pulled out a gun.  
“I asked you nicely,” his stern tone rolled off his tongue slowly as he aimed the weapon upon you, “now sit your ass down and share a drink with me.” 
Carefully, you finally followed his orders and sat down at the bar beside him. 
“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he uttered as he sat the gun down beside his drink. Raising up a hand to the silent shadow behind the bar, a glass was soon slid across the counter, one Bukcy pushed closer towards you, “here,” he said as you stared down at the orange peel floating at the top. As you lifted up the cocktail, the gangster beside you raised his own to click yours, “cheers.”
You briefly toyed with the thought of just taking a sip, though opted instead to down it all, both out of the desperate hope that the alcohol would aid the strange evening, but also in an attempt to fast forward a tad closer to your longed-for departure, ripping the bandage off instead of nursing it all night long. 
Though as you sat the glass back down on the bar, the bottom clanged against the marble much more forcefully than you’d intended as the fingers you clutched it with began to tingle. Blinking heavily a few times, your hand accidentally knocked over the empty drink as a numbing sensation began to bloom within your chest and spread throughout your body. 
Trying to get up from your seat, you mumbled foggily, “what the hell?” though quickly stumbled as your legs felt like jelly beneath your velvet gown.
“Whoa, careful now, angel,” Bucky’s calm gaze trailed you chillingly as you tried to steady yourself. 
“The fuck did you do?” you panted as your wide eyes watched him raise from his seat. 
“It's okay,” he uttered softly, “it’s all gonna be okay,” before your world turned to black and you passed out into his arms. 
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When you finally stirred, you were no longer at the bar, nor any other room you’d been in before. You were in a bedroom, situated on a spacious mattress and alongside countless fluffy maroon pillows. 
As you sat up, a low rustling found your ears and drew your vision down towards the coldness clinging around your ankle. Strung between the bottom corner of the bedframe and your own foot, there shined a chain, one that, try as you instinctively did, you couldn’t snap out of. 
But then, as the door to the room creaked open and caused your body to flinch, a plea swiftly flowed out of you as you watched Rogers step inside, balancing a small tray with a glass and a tall decanter of clear water. 
“Steve!” you crawled to the bottom of the bed, “I–… help me, please,” you begged, hearing tears thicken up your voice as they rolled down your cheeks, “you’re a good man, deep down I know you don’t wanna stand by and let this happen. Can you unlock me? Please? Help me get out of here.”
But just as you waited for Steve’s lips to part, you instead heard, “shh, don’t waste your breath, honey,” as in strolled Bucky, causing you to swiftly scramble as far back on the bed as the chain would allow. 
Sitting down in a chair just out of your reach, the fireplace opposing the bed, directly behind where he sat, clacked and lit up his spine as he settled into the seat and directed his cold gaze upon you.
“Glad to see you awake,” he uttered calmly.
“Fuck you!” you swiftly spat as you hugged your knees tightly to your chest. 
“And with all of your charms still intact,” he tilted his head, a light smirk blooming on his lips as your vulgar language hadn’t fazed him one bit. 
“Let me go,” you demanded. 
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, my angel,” his burly arms folded across his chest, “this is for your own protection,” he briefly gestured to the chain, “we wouldn’t want you to do anything stupid or rash now, would we?” one of his eyebrows twitched, “I can’t let anything happen to you,” he uttered as you continued to stare daggers at him, “you need to be kept as safe as possible so you can keep on helping me the way that you have.”
“What? You want me to be your gang’s personal nurse?” you scoffed, “is this your sick and twisted way of offering me a job, because if so, no thanks!”
“Yeah, no, this isn’t a job offering, I’m not interested in those talents of yours,” he leaned further back in the seat before he began to explain, “you see, for the past few years, I’ve had a serious string of bad luck. Deals have fallen through, rats have been found, the feds have been snipping at our heels and countless of my men have lost their lives,” he listed off, “but, then I met you,” his eyes flickered up to capture your own, “and it all turned around,” he uttered, “I tell you, when you’re here, it’s fate herself is on my side and nothing whatsoever could go wrong. Like having you has made me a fucking god or something, that’s the level of power you’ve bestowed in me,” a faint smile tugged at his lips as those words rolled off his tongue, “so no, you can not leave. You have to stay right here where I can make sure you’re safe and sound. Although, just because you get to be kept safe, that doesn’t mean you’re free of any consequences if you step out of line… it also doesn’t mean that I’ll deny anyone of your beauty if it pleases them… so, I guess it’s more along the lines of you just staying alive under my watch.” 
In the blind rage his words threw you into, your fingers wrapped around the bedside lamp before you chucked it across the room. Though just before it could strike the gangster’s head, he casually ducked out of the way, the lamp instead smashing on the floor behind him as a chuckle began to rumble within his chest. 
“That’s cute,” he laughed lowly, “you’ve got some bite. It’ll get you in trouble, but it’s adorable.” 
“I'm not interested in being your good luck charm, you superstitious fuck!” you yelled as he got up from his seat. 
Huffing out a condescending grin, “give it some time, angel,” he fastened the button on his dark suit jacket before smoothing a palm down over the front, “the human psyche is much more fragile than you’d think and can get used to some surprising conditions,” he ignored the scream that desperately tore from your lungs and instead turned to Steve standing by the door and asked him calming, “Rogers, would you mind cleaning that up?” gesturing to the broken lamp on the floor, and as he received a small nod in return, he murmured, “thank you,” before exiting the room and leaving you to your fate. 
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“Seriously?” Steve let out a laugh when he finally coaxed the truth out as to why you hadn’t been touching any of the food they’d brought you, “and here I thought you were just a picky eater.” 
“Well, you’ve already drugged me once so what’s stopping you from doing it again,” you explained, glaring down at the plate before you as he attempted to stifle his laughter. 
“I swear, cross my heart, your pasta is not poisoned.”
Continuing to squint down at the food, you kissed your teeth, “prove it.”
“Really?” his brows floated up, “alright,” he sighed as he sat down across from you. Dragging your plate closer, he twirled some of the spaghetti onto the fork before slipping it into his mouth, “see?” he chewed, “I’m fine, and so will you be when you get some food in that belly of yours.”
Pushing it back towards you, hesitantly, you picked up the fork and slowly began to eat. It had only been little things you’d consumed the past couple of days being here, things you could be certain weren’t tainted, like the odd apple and such. 
Though as you chewed and finally began to settle your stomach’s nauseating rumbling, tears began to stream down your cheeks. 
No matter how hard you tried to beg, none of the mobsters would help you, as their loyalty was just too hard for you to crack. 
“Hey…” your bloodshot eyes then flickered up to Rogers as he noticed your weeping, “it’ll get easier, I promise,” he attempted in a soft tone. 
“How?” you blinked back at him hopelessly, “I am being locked up in a room by a maniac as if I’m just some trinket for him to own.” 
Throwing a brief glance over his shoulder, he then leaned in a bit closer to cautiously advise you, “…there might be some things you could do to change your situation…”
“What?” a spark suddenly flickered within you, “I’d do anything.”
“…you might consider trying to get closer to Barnes…” his words remained hesitant, “…if he begins to care for you, then he might treat you differently…”
“Like, he’d let me go?” 
“I don’t know,” he exhaled, “but maybe it could get that chain off your ankle,” he gestured to your foot, “baby steps.” 
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ONE MONTH LATER
“Here,” Steve croaked as he suddenly burst through the doors to your room, a big flat box in his arms which he tossed on the bed beside you. Peeking inside, a folded-up bundle of black fabric met your eye, “put it on,” he ordered hastily, “make yourself presentable.”
“Why?” you blinked up at him, your brows knitting gently together. 
“Because the boss requested it,” he answered impatiently. 
“What, he wants to play dress up with me now? Treat me like a doll?”
Over the past month, you had gone from being scared out of your mind, barely sleeping at night, horrified of what they might do to you, till the paralysing fear slowly began to melt away as not much happened at all, in fact so little that you grew bored in your imprisonment, thinking that the big bad gangsters were just all bark and no bite. Perhaps that was a dangerous confidence to develop, growing cocky in your restlessness, but you couldn’t help it. 
Letting out a low sigh, “just put it on,” Rogers’ head tilted before he said, “I’ll be outside, yell when you’re done.”
Popping the lid off all the way, you then slipped into the black gown waiting within. It was long and simple in its beauty as it hugged all of your curves like a second skin. 
Right before you called out to the mobster in the hallway, you leaned in closer to the mirror on the left side of the room. The dark storm clouds visible out the gothic windows that filled up the wall behind you blossomed in the reflection alongside you as you momentarily fussed with your hair to make it match the elegant dress better. 
Once Steve had entered the room once again, the very last thing you expected was what he did next. 
Walking straight up to you, without a word, he bent down and unlocked the chain binding you to the bedpost. At first, a wave of hope washed over you till it was drowned out by the unsettling notion as to where he would take you and just what plans were on the horizon. 
Grabbing you by the arm, he dragged you out of the room and down the dark hallway you’d only seen glimpses of before. You tried to ask him what was going on, though he didn’t offer you any clue in return, only remained silent as he hauled you through the maze-like manor till a wide set of steps found you, leading you down into a garage where a group of the other gangsters already stood beside the black car rolled up by the base of the stairs. 
Standing in the middle with an arm resting against the roof of the vehicle, Bucky’s gaze swiftly landed upon you as you ascended the stone steps. 
“Well,” the mob boss’ eyes roamed your form, “don’t you look pretty.”
Biting your tongue, you greeted him politely, “Mr Barnes.”
“Shall we go?” he cracked open one of the car doors. 
“Where?” you tried, though your question only caused him to breathe out a smile as he ignored it and instead commanded softly. 
“Get in the car, angel,” his metal arm rested atop the door. 
Riding in a different vehicle than you, it was Clint who slipped in behind the wheel of your car and drove you the silent route towards the mysterious destination. 
Though once the car came to a stop, the door to your left cracked open from the outside and there to greet you was an outstretched metal hand to help you exit. 
You didn’t recognise the building that loomed before you, though it was grand and opulent with large steps leading you and all the other arrivals up to what sounded like a party already buzzing on.
“So, you needed a date,” you exhaled as Barnes took your arm and began to lead you up the stairs, a cluster of his men shadowing behind you both. 
“No,” he cocked his head, “I didn’t need it...”
Casting your glance around at the other guests that passed, you asked, “what kinda party is this anyway? Let me guess, human trafficking auction?” you were completely serious, though still managed to make the gangster laugh gently. 
“It’s a wedding,” his chuckle finished billowing out of his lungs, “or a funeral,” he tilted his head, “I'm not quite sure.”
“How could you not be sure?” you shot him a glance as you reached the top of the steps and he dragged you inside the marbled halls, “there’s a pretty significant difference.”
“They all just kinda melt together at this point,” he sighed, “I have at least one of these a week I gotta show my face at, just out of respect.” 
Taking a look around, you uttered, “well, do you at least know who this funeral wedding is for?”
“No fucking clue,” he exhaled before following the signs and leading you into the venue’s ballroom.
Turns out it was a wedding for some couple you hadn’t yet spotted, though you’d already read their names a thousand times with all the stuff they were plastered upon. 
You stayed quiet and lingered by Bucky’s side as he shook some people’s hands and made some small talk before the two of you found yourselves seated at one of the many round tables in the hall. 
Blinking up at the floral centrepiece, your fingers fiddled with the white tablecloth as the hours rolled by. Soon, not only the complementary glass of champagne you’d been handed back when you arrived was sloshing in your belly, but also quite a bit more alcohol as you decided that was a good tool to make the evening more bearable. 
It however also came with the hindrance of boosting your cockiness as you eventually found yourself poking the bear. 
“You know for a big bad gangster,” you stared over at him, leaned back in the seat next to yours, “you’re actually not that scary up close,” you pursed your lips, causing a chuckle to rumble within his chest because of just how untrue that statement was, “smiling at everyone, being polite. Are you sure you really are the big bad winter solider? The king of New York with no heart and only an imagination for torture…”
“Well…” he huffed out a short laugh as he met your gaze, “don’t you have me just all figured out.”
“Some of your guys may have filled me in a bit,” you tilted your head. 
“Have they now?” he continued to look amused. 
“Yeah, well, a bit at least,” you seized your glass and took another sip.
As you placed the flute back down on the table and rested your cheek in a propped-up palm, your stare only intensified into a squint as Bucky’s eyes flickered back around the room.
But as his gaze fluttered back to notice your gawking, he muttered, “what?”
“Why aren’t you mean tonight?” you uttered through the haze fuzzing up your mind. 
Tongue flicking out to wet his lips, his eyes briefly dipped before he uttered, “do you want me to be mean?” a playful smirk twitched at the corner of his lip in a threat to appear. 
“Is it all just a lie?” you asked, the subtext of his previous words flowing directly over your dizzy head. 
“What?”
Squinting back at him, you then breathed, “there’s always a part of me that’s still scared, imagining what you might do to me… but now,” you slowly drew out, “I don’t think you’re actually ever gonna do anything,” you blindly decided, “that’s not really who you are, they’re all just empty threats…” 
“Hm…” he hummed, a slight smile blooming upon his lips as he stared back at you, “okay…” before he leaned in closer to utter, “and just what makes you think that I haven’t already?” your face immediately dropped as his words caused your frame to freeze up, “tell me, Y/n,” his breath fanned across your cheeks, “did you sleep well last night? Or the night before for that matter, or–, well, just during the time you’ve spent here with me?”
As your shock not only showed in your expression but also in your complete lack of speech, he simply grinned back at your stunned features before grabbing you by the hand and breaking the moment. 
“Come on,” he dragged you with him as he then stood up himself, “let’s dance.”
With an argument on the tip of your tongue, the appendage, just as the rest of you, still remained too dumbfounded for it to come to fruition. You didn’t manage to gather your wits once again till he had you on the middle of the floor, wide hand on your waist as you swayed to the music. 
As his hold slowly tightened and he brought you closer to his broad frame, your breath suddenly hitched as you blinked up into his eyes, the air between you growing thick. The hand that grasped your own near swallowed your palm in a dizzying contrast. Goosebumps began to erupt across your skin as you felt your heartbeat thump not only in your chest, but also much further south, a mortifying clue to the dark truth you hoped he didn’t somehow notice. 
Gliding his palm up the length of your spine, it came to rest between your shoulder blades as he then drew you in closer and your gaze fell to the band strumming over his shoulder. 
“Does the thought of me playing with you at night turn you on?” he whispered in your ear and continued to gently sway you to the music, “because if you want me to wake you, all you have to do is ask. Though my attempts so far at rubbing your luck off on me have been rather eventful, I’m still sure it would be better if you gave me a bit of a hand…” 
Tilting your head back to blink up at him, you thought you were gonna spit him in the face for making such an accusation, till your stare acted of its own accord and fluttered down to fixate on his lips. 
It almost felt as if they were calling for you, begging you closer like a stubborn magnet. But before you could close the short distance that kept you two apart, Barton appeared in your periphery and tapped his boss on the shoulder. 
As he leaned in to whisper in his ear, you couldn’t pick up on the words over the music, though watched as Bucky’s face swiftly grew hard. 
“What’s going on?” you asked as the secretive message came to an end and the mobster’s wide hands faded from your frame. 
Ignoring your question, Bucky instead cast his glance over your head at one of the men behind you and ordered sternly, “Stark? Get her home, now.”
“What’s happening?” you tried again, though without success as Tony dragged you away and the remaining gathered to converse in hushed tones.
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Perhaps it was because of the chaos of whatever was happening, perhaps just a simple mistake, but when you returned back to the manor, the shackle wasn’t reunited with your ankle. 
Not willing to let that gift slip through your fingers, you soon grasped that opportunity tight and made an attempt at your escape. 
Sneaking down the many hallways, you successfully hid from a handful of gruff-looking men before you realised you couldn’t remember the path to the garage or any other way out of the labyrinth of a building that kept you swallowed in the dark. 
However, your mission turned into a swiftly sinking ship as soon as you rounded the wrong corner and crossed the threshold of the last room you should have entered. 
In the centre of the space stood two chairs, both with individuals strapped to them, though only one of them was still alive. Before the seated pair and with his back turned to your frozen-up form, there stood Bucky. Returned from the party and with both his jacket and tie torn off, his sleeves were rolled up though still tainted in small crimson flecks of the deed he’d just done. 
“Come on, Vladimir…” Barnes uttered as he kneeled down in front of the battered man still breathing, neither he nor the other members in the room haven noticed you in the doorway, “just give me what I want and we can wrap this up.”
Wheezing painfully through his broken nose, the man met Bucky’s steely gaze before fulfilling his request, “…I’m sorry…”
“Hm?” he leaned in pettily, “what was that?”
“I’m sorry,” the tied-up man repeated with a laboured huff.
“Okay, getting there,” he nodded, “what are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry for killing Bruce…” the name rolled off Vladimir’s tongue like a crackle to a bonfire. 
“And?” Bucky fished. 
“For hurting you…” 
“See? That wasn’t so bad now,” Barnes straightened back up, “an apology, a life for the one you took from me, and now there’s just one last thing left to do, and then we’re even,” he then took one step back and conjured his gun. Aiming it at the Russian, barely a second passed before a shot deafened everyone’s ears and a bullet blasted through the tied-up man’s arm, mirroring the injuries Bucky himself had sustained. The loud blast and the bloodcurdling scream that tore from Vladimir, however, caught you so off guard that a shriek slipped from you as you flinched, revealing your presence as everybody’s eyes suddenly shifted to train on you. Glancing over his shoulder, Bucky grunted, “what are you doing out? What is she doing out?” he shot his glare in the direction of Steve off to the side, “Rogers? Get her back into bed.”
“Yes, boss,” his right-hand man swiftly nodded before catching up to you in two long steps and seizing your arm. 
And as you were dragged back to your doom, your eyes caught the tail end as Barnes let out a sigh and turned back around to face his victim, “now, where were we? Right! I believe the other one was right around here,” another gunshot echoed in the manor as he shot Vladimir’s arm once more, “and now, we can’t forget about the ones that only skimmed me, so get up and don’t fucking flinch, it’s on you if I hit your lung.”
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The chain reunited with your ankle jingled as you twisted on the bed to cast your gaze out the window. Heavy rain hammered against the tall panes as the restless city twinkled through the darkness of the night. In the corner of the room, Steve watched up like a hawk as you continuously failed to find rest. 
But then, just as you thought you felt your heartbeat return to a normal rhythm, the double doors burst open and in paced Bucky. 
“Is she awake?” he huffed, though didn’t wait for an answer before he heatedly went on, “okay, great.”
As his rushed steps halted by the foot of your bed, the look in his eye caused your body to shudder.  
“Rogers?” he kept his cold stare glued on you as he uttered, “go wait outside.”
Though you silently pleaded with your eyes for the mobster to stay, it was no use as Steve swiftly shut the doors behind him. 
As the man before you then shifted, your wide eyes finally noticed the bundle of rope in his grasp as he began to unravel it. Scrambling back, you didn’t manage to crawl far away before Bucky caught the chain and yanked it hard enough to force your frame down towards him. Though your struggling finally fizzled out when the gangster pulled out his gun, the very gun he’d just ended a life with, and aimed it at your head to get you to comply. 
“You know,” he uttered gruffly like a pent-up bull, “I’ve been nice, I’ve been real well behaved, kept my manners intact, been a goddamn gentleman,” the heavy weapon in his hand tilted slightly to emphasise his words, “but evidently, that’s not what you need to learn your fucking place,” he fumed before letting out a low exhale, “that’s alright…”
“Bucky, please,” tears blurred your vision as you held up your palms, “I-I understand, I’m sorry, you don’t have to do this.” 
“Oh, but I do…” he sighed almost softly as he then kneeled down closer and let the tip of the cool barrel stroke your cheek, “…if you don’t break a horse, then she’ll never be tamed…” his eyes trailed after the line he drew before it flickered up to find your own, “now give me your hands,” he ordered and hesitantly, you shakily obeyed. 
Since you couldn’t stay in your place, he simply had to tie you down better. 
Unfurling the rope in his grasp, the mobster then fastened the cord around not only both of your wrists, but also your free ankle. After each of the tight knots were tied off, he yanked each appendage to the nearest corner of the bedframe, spreading your limbs till you looked like a starfish on the mattress. 
Taking a step back to admire his handiwork, his fingers then dipped down into his pocket before a slight furrow found his brow as his touch didn’t locate the item he fished for. Placing the heavy gun in his palm down on the fireplace mantel, he then closed the distance towards the exit and cracked open the door just a smidge. 
“Rogers?” he extended a hand through the sliver, “give me your knife,” to which a switchblade was swiftly placed in his palm, replacing his own which was still lodged deeply inside the corpse of the Russian in the other room. 
Slamming the door behind him, he then crossed the room and silently began to cut your clothes off. The black gown you still wore came off with only a few slices, though your underwear, that he took his time with, slowly grazing the blade over your goosebump-ridden flesh before nicking the cotton clinging tightly to your frame. 
Once you were bare before him, his feet shuffled back slightly as he let his stare soak up every millimetre of you. 
A hand floated up to tug on his tie and loosen it slightly from around the collar still dappled with the blood of his enemy. Folding closed the knife with a faint flourish, he then sank down into the armchair directly behind him. The tattered panties he’d sliced from you were still clutched tightly in his hand as his eyes stayed glued upon your frame. Bringing the fabric up to his nose, his blue eyes then fluttered closed for a second as he breathed deeply, letting the scent of you flood his senses. 
But as he stuffed the cotton down into his pocket and let his palm drift to somewhere else, your eyes grew even wider as you gasped, “what are you–”
“Just shut up, please,” he groaned, sounding like he was at his very last straw as he brashly began to rub himself through his pants, “just for one fucking second, don’t be a brat.”
Your jaw couldn’t help but hit the floor as he shamelessly pulled out his cock, letting the intimidating hardness spring free of its confines before he spit in his palm and enclosed his fist around the fat girth. You wanted to look away, you truly did, but you just couldn’t, a flaw he obviously noticed. 
“You’re unbelievable…” he chuckled as his fist silkily stroked up and down his cock, the mixture of his own spit and the precum beading at the tip caused a sloppy melody to fill the room at each and every twist, “I mean, me being into you, that’s one thing, that makes sense, you’re the closest thing to magic that I’ve ever experienced, so of course that’s enough to get me going, but you… you’re the very textbook definition of a good girl and here you are pining after–, how was it again you put it? A superstitious fuck?” 
Stunned at his accusation, you tried to tear your stare away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“Really? Well, I didn’t take you for a fool, but hey,” he tilted his head, “some folks are just that disconnected to their own feelings.”
Blinking back at him, you scoffed faintly, “you’re crazy, I’m not–…” but you couldn’t even say it out loud as you, deep down, knew that it was a lie. 
“Oh yeah?” he cocked a brow, finding your flustered state amusing, “then why did you almost kiss me tonight?”
“I–…I was drunk.” 
Letting out a dark chuckle, “alright, sure,” he then rose from his seat and crawled up on the bed with you before he buried his face between your parted thighs, “if you despise me so much, then why are you so fucking wet?” his hot breath fanned across your core. 
“I’m not–,” you tried, though your attempt then fell short as he proved you wrong, reaching out his touch to tickle at your lightly and let the wet sounds of your arousal slosh into your soul. 
“Hm?” the broad pad of his thumb gently brushed over your glistening petals, making them part for him, “if this isn’t because deep down you want me, then why? I’d love to hear you try and explain your way out of this one…”
“I-I–…” your eyes fluttered as you tried to fight the feeling, “I don’t…” 
Laughing lightly through the scoff that then bubbled out of him, he averted his gaze and said, “okay, fine. You wanna play that game?” his eyes flickered back up to find yours, “if you need a bit of help in order to admit the truth, then that’s what you’ll get,” he uttered before suddenly stuffing two of his fingers inside of you. 
Craning his neck, he tilted down to catch a taste. You tried to hold back your moans as his digits caressed you, but the softness of his velvety tongue came as such a shock that a little squeak managed to slip out past your lips. 
“I mean, if it’s any consolation,” his stubbly chin glimmered with your essence as he retracted slightly to smirk, “I personally think it’s kinda cute that you have a crush on me like a little schoolgirl…” 
He then sent his palm down upon your pussy in a wet smack, before repeating the action a couple of times to echo the jolt it shot through your body. 
“Fuck…” he groaned in a low rumble, “you are so much more pretty awake…” he revealed casually, “sure, you make some cute noises in your sleep, but not like this,” you instinctually tried to stifle the uncontrollable whimpers that flowed from your lungs, “you should really be thanking me for all of the time and effort I’ve put into stretching this little hole of yours out,” his fingers continued to pump in and out of you, “if I hadn’t, well then you might just split in two when I finally get my cock in there.” 
And as he leaned down to lap you up once more, you curled your toes as you felt him push you closer to the edge. 
“Mr Barnes…” you attempted with an air of respect through your pants, “please don’t–…”
“Why? Because it makes you want to kiss me again?” he teasingly taunted you before continuing his persistent licks, bullying your clit into submission. 
And as he kept going, even as you gasped, “stop–, a-ah!” he still kept his lips locked around your puffy pearl long after a gush of squirt wept around his fingers, keeping his efforts up till your hips were bucking back in sensitivity. 
But when his kiss finally ceased, he let some of your juices, that had flooded into his mouth, trickle out past his lips and back down onto your pussy, “fuck…” his low groan nearly caused the whole room to rumble, “nasty little cunt…” before he slapped your throbbing core once more, watching as the last little trickle weakly leaked out and soaked the sheets below. 
Lifting himself up to hover above your constricted form, you then squirmed as you felt him nudge the bulbous tip of him against you. 
“Does the idea of liking, or even loving, someone like me scare you that much?” he uttered as he gathered up your slick and smeared it with his cock, “does it make you feel all wrong and icky inside that I of all people make you feel the way that you do?” 
All of the air in your lungs was then suddenly knocked clean out as he, with one long stroke, slipped all the way inside, before pulling right back out to tap the weight of him against your poor clit with the hold he had at his base. 
“You won’t spontaneously combust if you admit it out loud, you know…”
He repeated the motion, plugging you up completely before he denied your cunt the chance of getting used to the stretch. 
“I just wanna hear you say it…”
And on the next time he filled you up to the brim, this time his hips didn’t retract.
Reeling as you fought to comprehend the manner his girth split you open, you gasped weakly, “I can’t…”
“Hmm…” his eyes above you narrowed slightly before he pointed out, “that’s not a no,” and he began to move, “finally getting somewhere…”
The gangster was in no way gentle as he started to fuck your pussy, the selfish force of it caused your body to jostle every time his heavy balls tapped against your slick skin, thereby conducting a lewd beat each time he slammed into you. 
Lowing himself to get even closer to you, his nose ghosted against your own from the proximity. The gesture made you assume that he was about to press his lips to yours, though they never touched, even as your own instincts overwhelmed you and made you dizzily tilt up to try and close the gap, “nah-ah-ah,” he swiftly clicked his tongue and moved out of your reach, “admit the truth and then I’ll kiss you all you want.”
With his length still embedded deep within you, he sat back up. His fingers dented your hips as he grabbed onto them and then began to sink them harshly down against his own, lifting your frame entirely off of the mattress as he used you like a toy. 
“Oh god…” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered down to notice the faint bulge that appeared in your lower abdomen, the thrusting imprint of his size visibly showing just how deep he buried himself inside of you. 
Once he’d plopped your hips back down onto the bed, his hands then instead floated up to play with your tits, the rhythm he offered you causing them to jiggle in his palms. Though once he’d fiercely pinched your nipples and parted ways in a brief tap, his fingers then drifted further down south till his right hand found your puffy clit. 
Casting his glance down as he rubbed your pearl, a smirk appeared on his lip as he spotted the way your cream coated his girth. Sweeping down to smear his touch against it, what he did next caught you so off guard that you jostled wildly in your binds in an attempt to hit him for his audacity.
“Ahh!” you yelped as he stuffed two of his fingers in your pussy alongside his already overwhelming girth, “Buck, no, it’s too much!” 
But your squeak only caused him to chuckle as he stared down at the way your little hole struggled to take what he gave it, clinging around him so tightly that loud groans began to billow from him as he soon painted your insides white and pumped you full of his cum. 
With heavy breaths, he withdrew his dick, though let his digits stay inside your warmth. 
“Maybe in time you could become more than just my good luck charm…” he murmured as he flopped down to curl closer to your core, “would you like that?” he nipped at one of your thighs as his load slowly began to leak around his thick fingers, “does the idea of me falling down to my knees before you and declaring my undying love entice you, angel?” 
“You’ll just have to do better,” he continued as his digits began to twist within you, “let me mould you and make you perfect for me,” another one of his fingers was stuffed inside of you, causing your eyes to flutter, “just let go,” he breathed, “shut off your brain and let it become a leaky mess just like your pussy already is for me,” he worked another digit into your creamy cunt before grazing the last one against your stretched out opening, “you don’t need to think, you just need to do exactly as I tell you to and everything will be okay,” his tone was soft as his thumb curled close to the others and sank into your pussy with a pop, “just break for me, it’s okay,” your body was shaking beneath him as his entire fist slowly twisted within you, “you’ll be so much more perfect ruined…”
Tears were streaming down your face as you unravelled once more, trembling violently as your pussy clamped down around his wide hand so tightly that it was forced all the way out, a drizzle of your nectar once again spraying out at the intensity. 
“Alright!” you let out a sob, “alright… I–… I don’t understand it… but, I–…” you caught his eye and confessed, “ever since the moment I met you, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you… even when I fall asleep, it’s like you’re haunting me in my dreams…” a faint shake found your head as you blinked up at him through your blurry vision, “I don’t wanna feel this way. But–… I do.”
It seemed as though time stood still as Bucky stared down at you, an unreadable expression tinting his features before he finally shifted, slowly leaning down over you and inching closer before he finally pressed his lips to your own.
A faint whimper was muffled against his kiss as you felt the world crumble around you. 
“That wasn’t so hard, was it now…” he breathed as he ended the soft peck, “say it again,” his hand slid over your jaw, “practice makes perfect.”
Blinking up into his eyes, you uttered from the bottom of your heart, “I am yours,” a single tear rolled down your cheek as you still trembled beneath him. 
“Damn right you are…” his lips tilted into a smile. 
Fishing out the borrowed switchblade that still rested within the gangster’s pocket, he then sliced through the ropes and constricted you. 
Tangling your arms around his neck as you sat up, you captured his lips once again and felt his touch slide down under your ass before he scooped you into his lap. Your sore pussy wept against his cock, once again throbbing and hard as a rock against your core. As your tongue danced against his own, you couldn’t help but scramble even closer, pressing your body impossibly close to his own as you grinded down against him. 
“You are mine,” he groaned as he manhandled your frame in his hold and sank you back down onto his fat dick, “you are my most prized possession,” your bodies met in sticky claps as the aftermath of the rough round moments before still oozed all over this one where passion crackled behind both of your own desperate efforts, “I will never let you go,” he blinked up into your eyes as you rode him, both of you clinging to each other as the end crept ever nearer, “always need you–,” his sentence was briefly broken up by a moan as you rolled your hips, your pussy gripping around him and squeezing him tightly, “need you by my side…” 
Once your synced-up orgasms had both shuddered your senses and you were sharing each other’s breath, your eyes remained locked as his throbbing cock stayed buried deep within you.
“So, what now?” your chest rose and fell as you whispered into the night, the pitter-patter of rain splashing against your windows once again catching your attention as it swept over and mingled with your laboured pants of breath.  
Not shifting his gaze, his eyes briefly scanned your own in search of any ounce of deception, before his fingers dipped down into his pocket and conjured a tiny key, “now,” and he stretched down to undo the chain at your ankle. The click of the lock felt like a gasp of real air was finally filling your depraved lungs, “I take you to my room,” and he manoeuvred you around to slink one arm in behind your knees while the other stayed fast at your spine. As he rose from the bed, he plucked you up with him as well, carrying you in his hold as he exited the bedroom. 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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toji-bunny-girl · 5 months ago
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bartender toji fucking the living daylights out of us after a nasty breakup ? also have a nice day
ON THE H★USE !!
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#𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆 ⟢ bartender!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader #𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 ⟢ riding the hot bartender after a break up is the least expected thing you’ll ever think of #𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⟢ alcohol, pet names, foreplay, fingering, teasing, grinding, pre-cum, no protection, creampie, car sex, nipple play, squirting, size difference, big dick toji papa, alpha toji with xxxxxxxxl dick, multiple orgasm, one-sided drunk sex (?), power play, I’m so lazy to do tags, who even reads content warnings tbh #𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ⟢ 4k #𝑨/𝑵 ⟢ don’t let this flop guys I spent way too much time on this when I should be studying for my exam 😭
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“Plus, he literally had to beg me to act like I was cummin’ when he stuck his sorry excuse of a dick in me!” your eyelids hung heavily over your eyes as you exclaimed, brows shooting down in a frown. “Get a load of that guy, am I right?”
“He doesn’t pay for your stuff, and he can’t fuck good?!” Toji teasingly mirrored your tone as he manoeuvre behind the bar, uniform taut from the way he natchly flexed his arms; the bottles clinking as he worked deftly to craft out the beverage you ordered. “What a man.”
It has been 2 hours since you’ve been rambling on about your ex-boyfriend, and the ravenette felt like he’d known this stranger for years—all of his secrets and traits aired into his ears. Albeit, it was getting a bit boring, with the same repeated stories tumbling out of your voluble mouth. But still, he enjoyed chuckling at your adorable insobriety, fuelled by drunken mania. 
“Here you go, princess,” a small tug lifted the ends of his scarred lips when your eyes patently glimmered at the newly served alcohol. “It’s the last I can give you, we’re closing…” Toji’s eyes momentarily flickered to his watch, “in 7 minutes.”
“Oh, okay!” you deliriously yawped, downing the beverage into your liqueur-brimmed system before handing him your card, which you aimlessly threw at him, not even lucid of your motions. “Just swipe it.”
Toji simply brushed it off, taking it towards the other side of the counter. He's used to unintentional antics like yours, as long as the tab was paid off he has no problem with them. 
15,900 yen. 
The digits flashed past his eyes like stars, igniting a luminous glint in his dark emerald orbs. Hell, was it a sum to casually splurge on at some mid-high bar? He’s got a pretty girl with probably an equally pretty amount of personality in her wallet, sprawled on the bar top wailing about her broken heart. 
Oh, how he would love to play saviour. 
“Here, princess. Time to go home,” he tapped your card onto the counter after the successful transaction. His gruff voice was low as you drifted further from your haywired consciousness and towards a delicious drowse. You didn’t move when he neared your face, attempting to marshal up your scattered coherence by calling into your ear. 
Toji sighed as he leaned back onto his feet, and crossed his bulky arms, pondering the ways to get you out of the otherwise empty bar. 
It was 12:58 am and the other inebriated customers had gone out by themselves or with their friends dragging them along. Except for you, softly snoring on the sticky counter. 
His coworker shrugged at him when the ravennette glanced at the shorter male for help. “Just get her out of here. I’ll clean up the rest, and you owe me this one,” always so kind—how Toji wished he could smooch that man right then. 
“Thanks, man,” Toji’s eyes curved in moon crescents, before settling his sight onto your dozed frame. His finger pressed against your temple, and your head lolled to the side in suit of a light push; a trail of drool slipping past your plump lips. You were completely and utterly out of it, huh?
Grasping onto your arm, the male lightly shook you awake, the warmth from his calloused palm stimulating your nerves vivified. “Hey, Mr. Bartender…” you had an uneven smile on your crooked lips, sleepiness bubbling into the air with every laggard blink as you breathily chuckled. “Are you gonna bring me home?”
“I don’t know about that, princess,” his tone was syrupy sweet and it licked the ends of your lips upwards into a velvety grin. “But we gotta go now. Come on,” Toji’s hands came to yours, gently pulling you off of the bar stool. You followed after his guide, slipping your card into your pocket before frisking behind him like a lamb to the door. 
The burly male turned to his wrist after the door swung close in the wake of your exit, checking his watch; it read 1:04 am. The train station is closed and it’s going to kill his conscience if he leaves you by the streets like he always does with intoxicated male customers. He has no idea where you stay anyway—best to call a friend of yours to take you home. 
“(Y/N)?”
A grating, vexatious voice called. The two of you swivelled your gaze to the source to find your cheating, insipid creature of an ex with an arm thrown over some chick’s shoulders, chortling at the unstable mess you were. Your eyes were puffy and tumid from the hours of crying slash ranting session, and you were anything but lucid from the way you looked. 
How fucking lucky.
“What you got going on here? Getting kicked out of a bar?” your ex taunted, nearing his face to yours as you narrowed your eyes at him. 
“Y-You…as—”
“Have the lady some of her space, buddy,” Toji’s authoritative voice prevailed over yours as he pushed the male away, rendering him to helplessly stumble backward into a fall. The woman in his arm hid her giggle with a gasp before helping his fuming ass up, his face beet red from his ignominious tumble. 
“Who are you?” he barked, eyelids flying open to show the hidden whites and teeth bared in belligerence. 
“A man who can make her cum, without begging her to fake it,” the woman burst into a half-concealed snicker when the ravennette broke the air with his unanticipated words. Your face grew to be saturated with ardent red, from both the intoxicant that coursed through your veins and the sentence you thought you had heard.
“I call it bullshit,” your ex spat with his upper lip pulled up in disrelish. There’s a flash of humiliation in his glare—he knew Toji seemed better than him and it killed him to know you’ve got suitors who are way out of his league. 
“It’s true,” you tapped Toji’s metallically stiff chest with a twisted, satisfied smirk on your rat-arsed face. “He toootally didn’t just stick his dick in me and call it a day, y’know?”
“Fucking whore.”
“What d’ya say?!” you screeched, ready to pounce on the asshole. “I sent you to the ER once, and I’ll do it again!”
“Alright, that’s enough, princess,” Toji tenaciously held onto your arm, and you’re stuck by him even without him using much strength. “We don’t want you dirtying your hands, do we?” 
A nasty shove met the male’s chest, knocking the air out of his lungs when he hit the ground. It was merely a fraction of Toji’s force, and it already had the male choking to breathe on the ground. 
“Speak to her like that again, and it’s not going to be just a push,” you could hear the rise of a dour, serrated threat in his tone, and it begot the asshole to cower back in trepidation. 
Pussy, Toji grimace. Albeit he was no saint himself but he absolutely despises the ilk of guys your ex filtered into—boisterous and a bully to women, yet nothing but a trifling mutt in front of men.
A tug of his arm, and your limbs wrapped around his wretched him out of his state of visceral contempt. “Take me home!” you ineptly exclaimed, a gruntled grin on your adorable, roguish face. 
Briefly riveting his baleful gaze onto the splayed male on the bitumen, Toji steered you uphill towards the parking lot as you clumsily tottered aside him. 
The encounter with the small-dick fucker sure rendered him more understanding of your evening of outburst. Plus, for you to be cheated on that piece of work was truly the icing on the cake. “Poor you, huh?”
“Forget ‘bout him! You were so cool I almost cummed right there and then,” you teasingly giggled as you peered at him through your heavy eyelids. 
Fuck—it’s no good for you to be saying that with that look on your face. 
His eyes rest ahead the road as you soon come to near the bright red C8 Corvette the woman he’s estranged with had previously gifted him, the car standing out amongst the parked vehicles like a sore thumb. 
Your eyes scintillated in awe when the car luridly flashed and beeped in the night, “That’s yours?!” you cried aloud, frisking all the way to the car, before stumbling over thin air and nearly jolting forward into a fall. Luckily, Toji was quick enough to catch you by your arm, saving your knee a painful event of bloody excoriation. “Oopsie daisie.”
Cute, Toji chortled. 
Jumping into the vehicle, the potent roar of the engine cut through the midnight air after you’ve settled neatly in the passenger seat, the only thing missing was the safety belt that was supposed to secure your form. Reaching to your side, Toji’s hand briefly brushed over your exposed thigh, the hem of your short dress riding up to merely cover your panty. 
A soft, almost inaudible noise fled your lips, and his eyes laid on your face, the faint, intimate gold beam from the street lamp illuminating your glowing features. Your orbs were luminous through the dark, and it roused an innate lasciviousness that lay dormant in his core. 
The liquor that flowed through your blood vessels had not quelled through the lapse of time, but it did not take away your clarity to feel the tension that electrified the air molecules into sweltering magnetism. And gosh do you want to snatch the constriction in the atmosphere and tear it through your canines. 
“Touch me,” you whispered, so soft and vulnerable Toji could seemingly snap you in half with just a touch. 
“You’re drunk, princess,” he reminded, yet he remained unshifted over your smaller frame, his hand merely a molecule from your tempting flesh that sang for his warmth. 
“No,” you were firm. Something in you purled, bubbling a heavy, demanding need to have him devour you. “I want you,” your breath was hot, scorchingly so; airy and desperate. 
“You want me?” his hand fell to your wrist, grasping your soft skin under his heavy hold, and guiding you over to his seat, straddling his lap. His gaze cut through your eyes, daubing pressure against your jumbled nerves, his intensity threatened to slice through the silky jugular of your vulnerability. And you nearly moaned under his eyes.
You gingerly nodded at him, and you thought the knit between your brows was enough to speak for your neediness. 
His grip on your wrist tightened a fraction before you missed the heat radiating from his palm. “Careful, princess. You might regret this,” he had paved a way out, it’s a leave it or fuck it situation served beneath your fingertip—and all the atoms in your body leaped into the growling blaze in the abyss residing in his essence. 
“Please,” your voice was barely a note above a mumble, yet the weight of your single word mitigated any marshalled resistance in him. 
His hands slid up your thighs, inching under your dress, sending tingles to your throbbing core. The intensity that radiated from him ceased to waver as he leaned against your neck, brushing against your skin as you gulped. Dark, ashen clouds drew above the emerald forest of his before he spoke, almost threateningly against your throat, “I want you to remember every single detail of this in the morning.”
With a breathless nod, you had swung the floodgates of your amenability open to his guttural thirst. The heavy, rapacious waves of your desires crash into superposition. You were the fuel and he was the fire, together the air detonated into space. 
His wet lips met yours in a whim, sucking onto your flesh until it stung, greedily tasting every crook and cranny of your wet cavern with the bumps of his tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your hands flew to clutch onto his head, deepening the kiss to reach his insides while his rough fingers sank into the plump flesh of your ass. 
Your lips burned with his saliva, and his tongue fluttered with yours. The atmosphere felt all-consuming, gripping onto your throat and restricting the air from flushing down your windpipe. Yet, your core pulsed between your thighs, an excited blaze slowly roaring into something bigger than you could handle. 
Your chest rose and fell in a quick tempo when you snatched your lips away from his, grasping as much air as you could within a second before you dove right into him. Albeit your sight was hazy, you caught sight of the luminous flush that panned over his cheeks. 
Pretty, pretty. You chanted in your head as your hands slid down to his clothes, clumsily popping the buttons off of the garment that kept the warmth of his skin away from your touch. You want him, you want him. 
Your fingers nearly melted when they met his hot, sinewy chest, and Toji’s teeth sank a little too hard into your bottom lip when you teased his nipples under your touch, innervating them hard with every flick. The salient bulge in his pants rolled against your folds, merely separated by an annoying piece of your underwear, and your moans jumbled into each other’s mouths
“Fuck, princess. You’re driving me crazy,” Toji breathily groaned when your sloppy lips sundered apart, a hot string of mixed saliva connecting your swollen, red lips together. His large hands lifted your ass up into the air as he palmed them, the warmth from him sending a snuggly sensation through your body. “It’s no fun when only you get to tease.”
Your eyes playfully gleamed, before the light shot out of the crater of your orbs—his finger pressed against your sodden panty, damp with arousal. The tingles shyly reached through your belly as he rubbed your hardening bud, and your body shuddered against his. 
“You’re not playing fair,” he murmured against your jaw, leaving trails of bruised kisses down your jugular. His hand left your heat just as the high came close to your clutch, leaving you with nothing but the lingering cold touches of his. 
With a defeated sigh, you ground your knee against his growing hardness, your finger shyly rubbing against the clothed tip of the constrained mount, the spot slowly growing dark from amativeness. 
Toji sunk deeper into the headrest as you touched him, his exposed chest ceaselessly rising and falling. His breath hitched in his throat when you twirled his sensitive nipple between your fingers; your heated exhales warming the side of his neck as his grip almost painfully firmed onto the fat of your ass. 
You didn’t allow his peaking orgasm to come through, forcing yourself off of his sore, throbbing erection, and your teeth bared into a dirty smile. “I am playing fair.”
“You want to test me, princess?” he chuckled, the bassy timbre of his scratching the knot of an itch inside your ears. A gasp leaped out of your throat as your body jolted forward, his seat clicked backward to its maximum taut, “I’ll make you cry for more.”
You found your back nestled in his stead, your thighs spread open with his calloused hand slipping down your supple flesh. His fingers tapped nearer and nearer to your heat, before slipping off your soiled panty. 
“So fuckin’ wet,” Toji sucked an inhale through his teeth as he leered at your dripping sex—thick, rough thumb fluttering friction on your clit once again. Your eyelids flitted shut as you softly moaned against the air, the smell of your arousal filled the confinement of the car; the scent nearly making him growl when it panged hard against his nostrils. 
You watched as Toji slipped a thick finger into your velvety folds, feeling it trodding past your walls. Your heat snugly enveloped him as he filled your inside with another digit, his two fingers pressing, and running themselves over your slick cunny. “Gotta stretch you good for me, princess.” 
Your back inched into the seat with a contented sigh, enjoying the build-up of ticklish pressure stacking up your tummy. Toji was ridiculously dexterous with his fingers—deftly stroking your cunt, and quick to find the spot in you that innervated your pure senses with a ting. 
“S-Shit—” your body was subservient to his touches; your spine curved into an arch, your toes curled tight and your fingernails dug into the flesh of his arm. “M’feel so good. Toji—fuck,” it was as if his fingers were gilded in Eros’ heavenly blessing, the godly grace spilling into your pleasure. Tears began prickling at the sides of your eyes from how hard you were squeezing them, your flailing legs kicking against the dashboard of his car. 
“So pretty when you cry,” Toji groaned under his breath, his damp restraints painfully throbbing from the way your squelching walls tightened around his fingers—oh, how he fucking wish it was his cock in you right there and then. 
His touches were singing your walls into melting squirts of drool, pearls of arousal weeping between your thighs in the wake of his careful strokes. Never were you touched in such a way, and you felt like balling from how good it felt. “M’ close! M’gonna cum! Oh my gosh—!”
“Come on. Cum for me, princess,” you could hear his smirk in his voice as pleasure kissed your senses, fluttering through your electrified nerves and sending a jolt of tingles all over your body. Your mouth was lax open into an ‘o’, nails marking his skin as they sank deeper into his arm, and your walls tightly spasmed with a wave of rough euphoria cracking your bones weak. You fucking came from his mere fingers. 
Your eyes bat open with your lips sundered from your pants, your face ardently glowing from your subduing high. “Fuck…” your wet thighs quivered from the sheer force of your orgasm, and you blinked in disbelief. 
Over 2 decades of living and it was the first time cumming from a real man, not your fingers nor toys. But the brawny, sex-dripped male slipping your dress off of your spent body. 
You almost fell in love. 
Pushing him down the driver’s seat, you crawled over Toji’s firm thighs, running your finger from his chest to his muscle-packed abdomen, then down to the wristband. You were flickering to take charge, and he sank down to your guidance, rough palms resting on your hips. 
Your dress was off, divulging the bare curves of your body, sweat-glazed skin iridescent under the moonbeam and your sex-flushed features were begging for him. You look so, fucking, perfect that he had to bite down the need to ruin you on the spot. 
His hips impatiently thrust upwards into your sticky cunt, grinding his pack against you, urgency in his essence demanding your heat. “Don’t keep me waiting now,” he purred, with a silent warning tagging behind his words. 
Your fingers tugged the waistband of his pants along with his briefs, a drive in you matching his pacing hastiness. His shaft sprang out of its painful confinement, and your eyes nearly popped out from the sheer look of his cock. 
He was oozing with sticky pre-cum from his angry, red tip, throbbing veins ran from the base of his length to the curved head—the size of him bigger than any you’ve seen. The smell of his masculine essence hit your senses and a new pool of arousal began drawing in your tummy, your pussy walls squeezing in empty neediness.
“There’s no backing out now, princess,” Toji’s fingers firmly gripped onto your ass, lifting you over his cock, hovering.
“Who said I’m backing out?” you gulped, before lowering yourself down, his fat cockhead kissing your pussy lips before your hips greedily sank down his length, oblivious to the crackle of tingles it would send to your nerves.
“Careful there,” he teased with a chuckle as you let out an instinctual gasp from the way his girth stretched past your velvety walls, the slick sound of your arousal-dripped cunt, and his heavy shaft bubbled into the air, and scorched your cheeks red.
“M-My gosh…” you cried as your hazy gaze fell to the bulge jutting from the inside of your tummy, your walls taut with his heavy cock buried inside you. “I’m s’full, Toji.”
“Mhm,” he cooed, brushing his hands over the sides of your smooth thighs. “But you gotta start moving, baby.”
Gingerly, you lift your hips up before slowly inching them down his length. Your walls clenched as your sex rubbed friction, and you could feel every pulsing vein of his just as he could feel your fluttering warmth.
“Feel good, princess?” Toji asked breathily, your head faintly nodded, but there was a hint of a dubious glint in your fallen gaze, your knees lifting and sinking your weight.
“I need your help…” your voice cracked in disappointment as you paused, tears of frustration edging by your eyes. You couldn’t seem to grasp a steady pace no matter how long you painfully rode.
“What d’ya say?”
Your orbs looked as though they were melting off of your sweat-glazed skin, blinks of fervourish plea clawing from your drunken gaze into his. “Please, Toji,” your voice hitched, and you’re humping his pelvis. “Please…I want to feel good.”
Aww. How fucking adorable.
You yelped when you felt yourself being raised and slammed down his cock, your folds burning with every stretch of your walls. And it feels so good. “Y-Yes…” your eyes closed shut, fingers scrambling to grip his locks. “T-Toji—mhaa!”
“You’re so fuckin’ cute screaming my name,” the curve of his tip perfectly kissed your g-spot with each piston of his hips, and every time the twitching head of his meat met your gummy part, it sent a flash of electricity up your spine.
“S-Sho good—” you slurred through your words, weighed head lolling idly to every thrust of his fat cock.
“No one can get you dripping off their cock like this, huh?”
“Mmh—yes!” the space between your brows was crumpled into a tensed frown, your hips bouncing up and down his thick girth with his hands guiding your pace. “I love it! I love your cock!”
Toji let out a low groan when you cried, bucking himself deeper into your sloppy mess of a cunt and kissing the surface of your cervix. “Fuck—I love an honest girl.”
Your muscles nearly melted off of your bones as he continued to fucked himself deeper than you’ve ever felt, reaching the parts you didn’t know could be touched and your features dropped with his touches on your deep intimacy. A fierce sear of heat burned through your tingling womb, and it threatened to consume your body whole. “M’ cummin’! Toji—!”
“I know, I know, let it out f’me. Come on,” he grunted, keeping his grip firm on your arms as he fucked himself hard and deep into you. He could feel your squelching cunny clench, so tight as for the purpose of milking him on the spot. “Keep bouncin’ on my cock, yeah?”
“Nngh—No more!” you squealed. “N-No—” his thumb drew between your shaking thighs and greedily swiped over your blushing clit. Your fingernails sank into your palms as you gripped for dear sanity, his cock continuously violating your fluttering spots until they grew sore.
“I can make you feel better, princess,” he mumbled tinglingly against your neck, sinking his teeth down your flesh to hold back a shaky moan. His pleasure was inching to fly to release, and your tight clutch onto his shaft was nothing but a catalytic lure.
“S’ hurts—please!” your babbles were almost indecipherable as he rammed into your sore cunt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh holding onto you tenaciously; pushing you right to the edge of oblivion as he clung onto his nearing release.
“Cum f’me again, baby?”
“M’can’t! Still sensitive—!” you cried before another orgasm shot through your core. You felt as if you were sent up into the ether, stars teeming through your body as the waves of pleasure sent you on a vertigo ride. Your gasps dragged through your lips, your eyelids hung heavily over your bleary eyes, with tears slipping down your hot cheeks.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—M’close too, baby,” Toji swore through his bared teeth, his cock painfully twitching as thick semen surged through his tip—his hips rolled as your cunt squeezed his remaining sanity, popping them like fireworks before they burst into nothingness.
Your essence squirted out of your tensed cunny, shooting with his mixed cum that dripped down his belly. Your breaths shaky and hot with heightened senses, your sticky sex pulsing in overstimulation.
Exhausted, you fell prostrated on top of his hard muscle-built body, head undulating with the ups and downs of his heaving chest. And slowly, your cognisance drifted back into your mind, the aftermath of everything—the alcohol and the sex, pummelled into you like a heavy truck. Unforgivingly so.
“Toji…I really feel like pukin—”
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© toji-bunny-girl ― all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, plagiarise or repost my work
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augustinewrites · 2 years ago
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“babe. baaaabe. babe!”
“what, satoru?” you ask sharply, looking up from your laptop to where your boyfriend has spread himself across your couch, his legs in shoko’s lap. 
he lifts his shades to look at you. “was i your first crush?”
“yes,” you answer quickly.
you immediately return to the report you’re writing, missing the face shoko makes before she says, “that’s not true.” 
“ieiri,” you whisper harshly, but it’s too late. your boyfriend’s already jumped off the couch to lean his palms against your desk. 
“what? i wasn’t your first?!”
“you were,” you insist, glaring at your friend. “shoko is clearly misremembering things.”
“am i though?”
“you know what, it’s fine,” gojo sighs, slipping his shades back on and rolling the sleeve of his t-shirt up so he can flex. “obviously i’m way cooler than whatever lame schmuck high school you was crushing on.”
behind him, shoko’s scoff is the final nail in your coffin. “nanami is way cooler than you ever were.”
you slap your forehead, bracing yourself for gojo’s inevitable overreaction. 
but he doesn’t get the chance, interrupted by a light knock against your doorframe from, you guessed it, nanami kento.
“yaga said you wanted to see me?”
cue overreaction.
“you had a crush on— on him?” 
nanami swats gojo’s finger away from his cheek. 
“oh my god,” your boyfriend breathes, currently experiencing a quarterlife crisis. “you liked this emo nemo?”
nanami ignores him, sending you a questioning look. “he doesn’t know?”
“what is it now?” satoru asks, slumping back into the couch. “did you guys go on a date or something?” 
your lack of answer is enough for him to let his head fall back rather dramatically. 
“can you blame her?” shoko asks. “he was sexy back then. in an edgy, mysterious kind of way. meanwhile, you were like…if a string bean made love to a cauliflower.” 
even gojo doesn’t have a witty retort prepared for that. 
you decide to clear this up once and for all. “it wasn’t just about looks. you were busy after— after riko. you didn’t have time for a relationship or…for me. you wanted to get stronger and i didn’t want to get in your way.”
“you wouldn’t have been—”
“i would have.” you shrug. because you know him, and you know what he was like. “and that’s okay because we were still kids, satoru. and it was only one date! no need to get so torn up about it!”
_____
“what is this?” you ask later that night, when you find satoru hauling a huge box into your apartment.
“it’s a bowflex!” gojo explains proudly, patting the unopened box. “shoko said that i was built like a string bean, so i’m gonna buff up like nanami! and when megumi moves out next year, i’m gonna turn his room into a gym.”
you lean in the doorway, amused. nanami also has a home gym. “is that why you’re also wearing a suit and tie instead of your usual uniform?”
he does a show spin, letting you take it all in. you don’t even want to know how much it must have cost. “do you like it?” 
“you do look very handsome.” 
“i know,” he winks, cocky as ever. “now watch this.”
he brushes a few strands of hair over his eyes, lowering his voice a few octaves as he says, “taxes. office work. satoru, i respect you so much!”
you walk up to him, brushing the hair back to press a kiss to his forehead. “nanami would never say that last thing, but i do like the effort.” 
he loops his arms around your waist, returning the kiss and murmuring against your skin, “did it turn you on though? maybe i should get an office job—”
“satoru,” you whine, resting your forehead against his chest. “it was just a short-lived crush. and it was forever ago! i’m pretty sure you’ve had crushes that weren’t me.”
“nope,” he hums, resting his chin atop your head. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve ever needed…is you.” 
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sunasbon · 11 months ago
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CHEER FEVER !
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SYNOPSIS! : nerd gojo and his pretty cheerleader girlfriend!
WC:(4k)+ warnings : college au, shy nerd gojo, cheerleader reader!, semi public,nicknames, pussy eating (sweetheart, baby),jealous gojo that’s all for now!
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satrou wasn’t the jealous type of person in general, truth be told he couldn't help but feel that way when his pretty little girlfriend is a cheerleader catching the eye of a particular jock on the field while you were warming up with the rest of team, in your old fashioned—uniform with you pom pom before tonight’s game started with the rest of your teammates.
“satrou you okay, you’ve seem kind of out of it a little?” you pouting on him, crossing your arms over chest a little uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach, you knew him better than anyone even himself.
the question caused satrou to raise an eyebrow in curiosity, though he only gave a nonchalant shrug in response, "hm? oh, yeah, i’m fine i guess." satrou tried his best to hide his jealousy, though he failed utterly as his girl had seen right through him.
“you sure? I can walk you too class, while i finished up practice for the game.”
the offer from his you seemed to put satrou on ease, as his eyebrows no longer wrinkled and his frown turned into a small smile, "that would be nice of you." satrou replied, not really sure of what else to say. it's not like he can just outright admit that he's jealous, that would be just downright pathetic.
“of course I’ll see you after practice then” you waved him off, going back to the track with her cheerleading teammates.
satrou waved goodbye towards his you, watching you run back towards your teammates and practice without any further incident. her bubbly personality seemed to always brighten up his day, even when he was feeling a little down. it's almost as if everything went right with her around.
he watched the football team take a break, taking a moment to scan the crowd and observe everything going on around him. he let his eyes wander around the stadium, only to eventually settle on to—a familiar sight from your school. toji was, without a doubt, one of the best quarterback players on his team, and satrou had heard many praises his skill and talent over the years. his athletic ability and dedication were something to be envious of.
his star quarterback status was nothing to sneeze at either, making him a very desired figure among the female students at their school. satrou would hear stories about how the girls would fawn over him every time he stepped on the field.
toji's handsome gaze met yours, his green eyes locking in on yours and not relenting. he smirked at you in a teasing way, his confidence and charisma oozing from his pores as he walked over to you. he had a cocky and flirtatious look on his face, which only seemed to highlight his attractiveness.
as toji stepped off the field, he looked around toward where the cheerleaders were practicing. his eyes quickly met with yours, and he gave you a subtle wave, smiling in your direction. it seemed like the entire field and bleachers turned their heads to him now, as most of their eyes were glued on toji, staring intently, making it easy to see how attractive of a figure he was.
he was annoyed at the whole situation, his anger growing with each word that exchanged between you two. "who does the jock think he is? he thinks he can just walk up to you and expect you to just fall head over heels for him? he's lucky i'm not beating his ass right now."
toji's appearance certainly didn't help with your frustration surrounding him—he was handsome, beefy, and confident enough to walk up to you without even a care in the world. he had the entire stadium in a trance. the cheerleaders all fawned over him as he made his way toward you.
some girls even shouted his name to get his attention, hoping they'd be the lucky ones to be blessed by him. satrou watched the entire scene play out, finding himself growing increasingly irritated with toji's existence—biting the inside of his cheek.
not having much better to do with the half-time break, you decide to walk into the locker room to pick up something from your locker, taking the few free minutes you had to get some things in order before the game resumes. you weren't aware of just how long you spent in your locker when you suddenly felt a familiar presence approaching from behind you.
you were so involved in getting your stuff in order, you didn't notice toji. the arrogant-quarterback from the school's football team approaching from behind you. he leaned in towards you and let out a subtle chuckle, leaning his arm against the locker behind you and placing his body close to yours.
toji's smirk grew wider when he noticed the annoyed tone in your voice, his eyes shining with amusement as he stepped a little closer to you, putting him in your personal bubble. "do I really need to say?" toji replied, not taking his eyes off of you for a single moment—trying to woo you with his small talk wanting to get into your pants, plus you knew it really and wouldn’t give him that attention.
"I'm not dating you, forget it."you weren't amused by his actions at all, and instead, you were irritated and disgusted by his flirtatious antics.
the words that came from your lips made his smirk fade away in an instant, you putting him in his place had caught him by surprise. a small frown appeared on his lips as he stepped back from you, his hands coming out of his pockets, "I get that you're already dating someone, but that doesn't mean you can't have a little fun once and awhile, right?" he asked, a cocky smile returning to his lips.
honestly did he really think you were going fall for his charms and popularity status? what a joke.
the mention of satrou name had toji's eyebrow shooting up in surprise, though he didn't look very impressed by the information. he couldn't understand why a beautiful girl like you would lower yourself enough to date a nerd, especially when the jock sitting in front of you is offering himself to you like that. toji narrowed his eyes at you. "are you kidding me? you seriously prefer dorks over jocks?"
"yeah? why are you surprised at that?" you scoffed at his remarks clearly not impressed by his performance to try and seduce you, it was pointless almost.
toji's cocky smirk faded away once more at the blunt answer that came from your lips, your lack of embarrassment and straightforward tone made it clear that you were not flirting with him whatsoever, he was just wasting his time. "oh is that so? cause i highly doubt it." he said sarcastically, taking a step closer to you, once again, invading your personal bubble.
you don’t respond only giving him a blank look.
even though you had made your rejections perfectly clear, toji was stubborn, refusing to accept that the beautiful girl in front of him was not into him. he stepped even closer to you as you attempted to walk away, now placing his frame in front of you. "oh come on darling, i know you like me. i can tell by how much you seem to look my way all the time."
“trust me, i don’t.”
the sound of the pa system announcing that the game would start back up in a few minutes filled the stadium and the players with energy. you didn’t hesitate to follow the cheer leaders back towards the field, not letting toji get into your head and ruin your spirits.
however, toji wouldn’t give up so easily, as he quickly followed close behind you and tried to engage in conversation with you again.
despite his flirting antics, you chose to brush it off and ignore him. you've had enough of his ego and his attitude, and all you wanted to focus on was your team winning tonight. you continued walking, trying to block out his voice and the way he kept on trying to be close to you.
after a few minutes, you made it to the field where the cheer leaders were all practicing their performances for the game.
you felt your annoyance and anger build up as toji once again tried to engage in conversation with you. he was persistent and annoying, and he wouldn't take a hint no matter how many times you brushed him off. it was truly the most irritating thing you've experienced today?
was he really that desperate?
the sound of the pa system announcing that the game would start back up in a few minutes filled the stadium and the players with energy. you didn’t hesitate to follow the cheer leaders back towards the field, not letting toji get into your head and ruin your spirits.
however, toji wouldn’t give up so easily, as he quickly followed close behind you and tried to engage in conversation with you again.
satrou narrowed his eyes towards your direction, upon seeing that toji was still trying to engage in conversation with you—even after he was repeatedly told to go away—was enough to set him off.
he pulled you into a tight embrace, not letting toji get a word in edge-wise. however, this was only followed up by an uproar of gossip among the students, who began to crowd around you, toji, and satrou, creating some sort of chaotic scene.
the sound of their whispers filled the atmosphere, and the attention of the students shifted away from the game and towards the three of you in the middle.
the crowd continued to grow bigger and louder as the students started speaking among themselves, all wanting a glimpse at what was happening. toji, satrou, and you were now the main attractions, and the whispers quickly turned to gossip and rumors.
with the situation now growing out of hand, you could hear a few of the students snickering and laughing at the scene, making snarky remarks about all of you. people from all over the stadium gathered around to watch the scene unfold. it became almost impossible to hear anything over the sounds of the growing chatter coming from the crowd.
satrou was standing next to you, a fiery glint in his eyes as he glared at toji, not backing down from the situation.
a few whispers started spreading among the crowd when it became clear that satrou was confronting toji and was about to start a fight. some people in the crowd got up from their seats, hoping to see the action as it unfolded. some students started chanting "fight!" as they eagerly awaited the two to start brawling.
satrou blue eyes narrowed at toji, his tone becoming deadly and sharp as he responded with a few words. "so are you going to keep flirting with her like a pathetic dog or do you want your teeth knocked in?" satru kept his attention on toji, his grip on you becoming tighter with each word he spoke.
you saw satrou’s eyes flicker a dull red for a moment and a wave of heat radiating from his body. he had been angered by toji's insult enough to want to punch him in his face, but he couldn't lose track of what was important here.
he wanted to punch the jock into the ground for his comment and the way he would never leave you alone.
toji spoke up in response to satrou remarks, his demeanor and tone becoming more frustrated as he spoke. "as if a twinkie like satrou could actually punch me, I'm surprised he hasn't taken her out on a date yet." toji's cocky grin returned to his face once again, his expression becoming even more snarky.
this was getting out of hand fast.
satrou continued to trade insults towards toji, his anger and temper escalating even more as he spoke. "you're an idiot if you think you can be so pathetic as to walk up to another's man's girl and flirt with her right in front of them." the crowd around you grew louder and louder, many people cheering for satrou while they watched the two argue.
toji’s smug smile only grew wider as he responded, his words becoming more sarcastic and arrogant. "look, twinkie, i'm just doing what any other jock would do. you should be thankful that i let you have her for so long." the crowd of students grew even louder at toji's comment as he continued to smirk smugly at him, trying to get under his skin even more with his words.
gojo clenched his fist practically turning white from his comments even hearing toji's smug remark, and his patience was running thin at this point. he finally lost it. gojo suddenly swung his fist like lightning as it connected straight to toji's jaw with a loud smack. it was enough to make toji's whole head whip back, his eyes widening in shock as gojo fist landed right on his cheek.
"you'll be sorry for hitting me, twinkle," toji sneered, a smirk still plastered on his face despite the bruise now forming where satrou had punched him.
the crowd was still in an uproar, many of them cheering for satrou while others were trying to instigate another fight. the guard still held satoru and toji at different sides of the building, making sure they couldn't get their hands on one another any longer.
you followed satrou as he was being escorted to the other side of the building. you didn't want to even look towards toji at this point, as you were annoyed with his incessant flirting and harassment directed at you.
satoru was still hot-headed and angry after their altercation, as he kept muttering curses and insults under his breath when he wasn't addressing the guard. he seemed like he was having a hard time keeping his temper in check.
you saw satoru finally letting himself relax. sitting down on the bench next to you and taking your hand in his. his expression softened, and his body language relaxed as he slowly let go of his tension. he was relieved that it was over and that no one had gotten hurt in this whole ordeal.
satrou’s grip on your hand was tight and comforting—feeling the tension still lingering from the encounter that’s was moments ago. he looked over at you with a relieved expression, and his mind was focused on having you by his side and calming his nerves.
you're taken aback as satrou grabs your arm and pulls you away to the vacant locker room, where you two had some privacy. he wrapped his your arm was tight and firm, but not in a rough manner as he dragged you along.
once you were inside the locker room, satrou closed the door behind him and pulled you close to him in a intimate manner.
he slender arms looped around you, his breath becoming a little heavier as he pulled you closer. he didn't need to say anything else to tell you that he wanted you right now, his whole aura was telling you that.
your bodies were pressed up against each other, and his lips were hovering dangerously close to yours—nothing more than to let out that pent up energy that’s lingering inside of himself.
“can’t believe that asshole.” satoru mumbled against your lips, kissing the inner curves of your mouth. his slender hands roamed over your body squeezing your waist pulling you closer to his board chest fitting together—two puzzle pieces together as one.
‘your nerd of a boyfriend can’t satisfy you’ tsk let me prove him wrong? hm baby?” he states in a mocking tone a small smirk plastered on his lips, knowing his words were a complete joke to him. satrou knew you inside and out and knew the right ways to make you cum wether it be from his fingers alone or his tongue every time, never fails to make you fold underneath him—like pure putty in his hands.
your body felt warm and euphoric as satrou's lips moved along the corner of your mouth, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. your breath grew shorter and shorter with each kiss to your neck and each inch closer to your lips. his tender kisses felt like a sweet and gentle massage, making your body tingle with euphoria.
your whimpers were like music to his ears, filling him with an intense urge to take whatever he wanted. he was fully intent on taking complete ownership of your body with his touch.
“toru…come on the game starts back in a few—”
“the game can wait, but I can’t.”
shortly, your back is pressing against the cold tilted of the locker rooms as satrou wet kisses the nap of your neck trailing down turning into more sloppy ones leaving a trail, you desperately tried to close your thighs together feeling your growing auroral through the fabric of your sparkling bedazzled outfit—feeling a hint of warmth coursing through your body.
satoru smile faded slightly noticing your shift of movement tilted to the side—mumbling against your tummy stopping completely for a moment.
“what’s the matter baby? hm? don’t you want me to eat your pretty pussy?” he teased at the last words playfully, his cheek still nuzzled into your softness of your tummy, feeling the warmth of his slender fingers gently squeezing and resting lazily on your sides.
“i-i do..” you stammer out desperately trying to keep your thigh closed together trying to hide the wet spot in the fabric of your cotton panties, it was stupid to even try to hide it you knew it. only desperately wanting him as bad as he wanted you.
“hm? didn’t catch that baby. you want to speak up for me?” he taunted that cheesy smile of his plastered on his face knowing your embarrassed about couldn’t help but to tease you a little bit more, his slender fingers lifting your skirt bunched up the fabric pulled itself up slowly.
“toru..i-i……need you please” you confessed softly warmth spreading through your body once more, causing satoru smirk to deepen at your words trailing his sloppy kisses down to stomach tracing along the waistband giving it a gentle tug as it loosens falls down your thighs to the floor.
“that’s my girl.” satoru cooes, swiping his calloused thumb across your sensitive nub. his gaze lands on your cunt, nuzzling in between your soft thighs hearing his breath hitched. satoru thick lengthy fingers toyed with your clit, pinching the sensitive nerve causing you to jolt against him.
“toru…c’mon..”
“so impatient baby hm. gettin’ wet f’ me barely even touch you.”
satoru mumbles, tugging and toying at your clit. his glossy lips glinting in the dim light teasing you into utter bliss causing you to writhe around at the stimulation.
your hands tugged at loose white strands of hair causing him to groan against your thighs, his tongue alternating between swirling around your clit and sucking on the sensitive nud—feeling the heaven through arching your back perfectly. not caring whom heard you throughout the walls of the locker room.
“satoru..!..ngh..please..”
“fuck…baby y’er close already? bet that jock can’t eat you out like this huh…”
your moans mingled together throughout the room bouncing off the walls, as satrou continued to tease your cunt with his tongue eating you out as if your were his last meal on earth his face stuffed with your cunt.
“answer the question baby.”
“n-no…toru….mph!fuckfuck..”
you writhing around against his face tightening your hands on his hair throwing your head, if it wasn’t for holding your thighs over his shoulders keeping you steady—knowing your legs would’ve given out on a instant.
satoru’s hands held your thighs open for him, the flat of his tongue slurped up your slick probing deeper inside of cunt you could only buck your hips against his face, trying to gain more stimulation from him but he had other plans.
only to, suddenly removing himself nuzzled between your thighs covered in your ecstasy and salvia dripping down his chin, with that same teasingly smirk lingering causing you to whine and scrunch your brows together in frustration. you didn’t honestly think you were going cum so easily with a teasing bastard like him huh?
“satoru…w-why..did you stop??” your breathing was still heavy and your skin glowed in the dim lighting of the locker room. sweat started to bead up on your forehead, and you still felt a hazy from the stimulation. you were grew rather frustrated and wanting to reach your orgasm to have it decided by your lover.
“sorry babe, but the game starts back in a few minutes.” he hums but you could practically hear the tease in his voice, placing you on your feet. you mumbling a few curses underneath your breath huffing, feeling you stumble forward you catch yourself.
satoru smiles back with a cheeky and teasing smirk as he watches your annoyed expression when he pulls away. he then unlocks the door, giving you no chance to respond or continue any further action, even though you were very tempted to do so. he laughs and winks at you before stepping out of the locker room, leaving you all by yourself inside.
you straighten out your uniform and make sure your appearance was looking proper before stepping out of the locker room. you didn't see satru anywhere, but you assumed he was already at the game. he did say that the game was starting in just a few minutes, and he was always one to be right on time. you made your way towards the game, looking for satrou amongst the other students who had already taken their seats.
you began to get concerned about satrou’s sudden disappearance, worried that he might be in trouble. he had gone missing without a trace after you two left the locker room, and his whereabouts were completely unknown at this point.
you searched all the crowd of students, searching for any sign of satrou but came up with nothing. you began to get increasingly worried with each passing moment, wondering where he could have gone so suddenly without a word?.
just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse than this. where the hell did he go?
oh great.
a wave of concern washed over you as satrou still hadn't shown himself by the quarter of the game, which only caused worries of where he could have gone to creep up on you. you were worried and stressed, not knowing if he were hurt and unable to show himself, or somewhere else. your annoyance grew with each passing second, until you suddenly heard toji's voice behind you.
"looking for someone?" toji asked, looking at you with a smug grin on his face. his friends all stood close to him, smirking as they looked at you. one of them even had the nerve to let out a chuckle, clearly enjoying how annoyed you were at the moment. it’s as if they were mocking your concern for satrou—was nowhere to be seen still. “I wouldn’t worry much about him, the nerd show sooner or later. or not.”
“what—why?”
“you ask way too many questions, relax. we have a game to finish. see you out there sweetheart”
you started at them confused, wanting to run after them to question them more but it was too late they were already heading to the field—but you should’ve expected them not take this matter seriously.
you only hoped gojo was okay somewhere.
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@screampied @hoshigray @shaguro
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slasherbvnnie · 8 months ago
Text
Bewitched
Mattheo Riddle has a secret girlfriend, it's even secret to her
Bewitched Pt II
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Reader isn't in a particular house, implies they're not in Slytherin. Reader and all characters mentioned are 18+ and in college! Hogwarts. Probably will be a spicy part 2 ;)
Modern!Harry Potter AU, College!Mattheo Riddle, College!Hogwarts AU
Questions first began to arise before one of Slytherin’s quidditch matches last month, particularly when Mattheo was changing into his uniform and Draco noticed the scratches down his back. The boys teased him over it, questioning him on who was the lucky girl who made them. Mattheo just smiled on and let them try to decipher who it was from his giggles at each attempt they gave.
On the other end, questions circled around you when your friends first began to notice the hickeys that littered your neck, blushed cheeks and meek responses when your friends pressed on knowing who mauled their friend.
It’s not that you were purposely hiding who they were from, you just didn’t want to say who it was from until both of you knew what you were to each other. Mattheo had been there during a party hosted by Gryffindor, things moved pretty quickly that night when you set your eyes on him. He was pleasantly surprised the new transfer student had her gaze set on him, so much so that he didn’t reject her whispers about going back to his secluded prefect dorm. There were some more nights after the first, some more innocent than others, but there was never one important question asked from either side.
You didn’t know if the Mattheo Riddle was open to a relationship, Mattheo Riddle had simply thought you two were already together in his own world. He just simply didn’t kiss and tell.
While you sat in the stands waiting for the quidditch match to start, you were brought to attention when Cormac McLaggen sat next to you. “Excited for the game?” You questioned him as he chuckled, “if its not my own, not much,” he joked as you smiled. “Why aren’t you with the others? I’m sure the rest of your team are betting against Zacharias,” you hummed.
He grinned, “my bets are always against whoever Malfoy is against, doesn’t play fair,” he said before continuing on. “I wanted to spend some time with you for the game, if that’s okay,” he said as your eyes widened in surprise.
“Me?”
“That’s not a problem, is it?” He asked as you shook your head no. “Of course not, I just, well I noticed you talking with Hannah Abbot recently and I assumed…” your voiced trailed off as you looked away for a moment.
“She…ah, we’ve been comparing notes recently. She wants to get in good standing with Slughorn, she says the club seems like fun,” he admitted as you nodded.
“So there's-“
“Nothing between us two, I assure you,” he said with a smile.
Before you turned back to look at Cormac, you noticed the familiar head of curls staring directly at you two. Even from all the way out in the field, you could feel the death glare Mattheo was giving to Cormac. It surprised you, as Mattheo had never shown interest in any others talking to you before, but he now seemed distracted as they were beginning to set up for the match.
You hadn’t waited to talk after the match was over, Cormac walked you back to your dorm after, saying goodbye to you after telling him how you needed to study for your potions exam. He promised to send a letter later that night, to plan an outing in Hogsmeade on the weekend but when the hours passed and no letter was slipped under your door you grew curious.
It wasn’t until one of your roommates came in, going over to your desk. “Be glad we aren’t in slytherin, lost a hundred points earlier,” she said as you looked up from your notebook. “How come?” You asked as you set down your pen.
“Riddle sent McLaggen to Madam Pomfrey,” she said as you stared at her, quickly getting up from your seat.
“Did you hear why?” You asked her as you grabbed your cardigan, put it on quickly, and went to put on your shoes.
“No, but I did hear he spent the afternoon with you. Is Mattheo the one who gave you all those hickeys?” She asked as you rolled your eyes.
“I am not the reason they fought,” you said as you went to the door. “Where’s Riddle now?” You questioned as she took a seat on her bed. “Back in the Slytherin common room, I heard Dumbledore is questioning taking him off the team,” she said as you huffed, opening the door and heading to the dungeons.
When you made it past the password ridden door, you looked around before you saw Pansy taking care of Mattheo’s knuckles as she was scolding him. “Pomfrey said I was ok, Pans,” he grumbled. You made your way over to the couch he was sat on, his eyes on you when he noticed you were near.
“Why are you here?” He asked, “we have an exam tomorrow, you’re always busy the night before,” he said as Pansy looked between you two, dropping Mattheo’s hand as you looked him over.
“I heard what you did, I wanted to know why McLaggen is nearly in a coma from you,” you said, knowing you were exaggerating it a little. Mattheo only laughed as he stood from the couch, heading to his dorm. “It should be obvious as to why,” he said, anger laced in his words. “Obvious?” You questioned as you followed him.
“Yes, I thought it was very clear why. Why else would I risk being kicked off the team?” He stated as he walked faster.
“You are at risk with every fight you’re in. This isn’t even your first fight this month!” You reasoned as he let out a bitter chuckle. “Why did you fight with him, Mattheo? You won today’s game! So why are you so angry?” you questioned him as he stopped and turned to you.
His eyes were watery despite the angered look on his face, “I am angry because my girlfriend is entertaining other guys wanting to go on dates with her when she doesn’t even go with me,” he said as he stared down at you.
“Girlfriend?” You asked, a bit taken back and hurt by his words. You weren’t aware he had a girlfriend. “You never told me you had a girlfriend,” you said, backing away from him.
He blinked, eyebrows burrowed in confusion as he looked down at you. “you’re- you’re the girlfriend. You know that…right?”
You gave him a bewildered look, “me?” you questioned, just as confused as him.
“Yes. I wouldn’t- merlin, I wouldn’t cheat.” He groaned, bringing a hand up to his face, pinching the space between his eyebrows.
“You’ve never asked me to be your girlfriend,” you said, trying to remember if there was a time that he forgot about.
“You have been the only girl I’ve seen for the past month,” he explained. “I thought, I thought when you kept coming back that it meant you were mine.” He said as you shook your head.
“I just thought it was a mutual understanding,”
“An understanding?”
“You know, like, friends with benefits. You never said otherwise. We’ve never been on dates! Even Cormac at least wanted to go on a date,” you said, Mattheo’s face twitching at the mention of another.
“I was going to take you for our anniversary,”
“What anniversary Mattheo? We are not dating!” You explained as he frowned, turning away from you now.
“We aren’t dating,” he said, nodding as he continued to his dorm. “You can have your date at the infirmary with McLaggen then,” he huffed out.
“Mattheo! Mattheo!” You called out, following behind him. You reached for his arm before he quickly shook your hand off.
“Mattheo, I don’t understand,”
The dark haired boy turned around, getting close to your face now. “You seek me out just for fun, come to my dorm nearly every night that you aren’t studying and you think I did not develop feelings for you? On the nights we don’t spend in my dorm, I spend all night in the astronomy tower, in the common room, at the Black Lake, anywhere you want to go for the night. I’ve shared with you about my father and his expectations and you’ve told me about your life and interests and how school was before your transfer and you just think I see you as some girl I only use for sex?” He asked, looking deep into your eyes, his own angered and burning with tears.
“You think I would risk losing my spot on the team over some girl I don’t care about?”
A lump formed in your throat, tears filling your eyes as you stared into his. “Mattheo..” you croaked out, your voice barely above a whisper.
“You haven’t known me for long but I never thought you would take me for someone like that,” He said as he scoffed, almost turned around before you reached for his arm, looking up to him.
“I never, I just thought… I- I don’t know what I thought,” you said slowly.
His face softened, looking away from you for a moment.
“I’m sorry, Mattheo. I just figured, maybe you didn’t want a girlfriend, or that… I don’t know. I truly thought you just wanted to be friends with benefits,” you admitted to him as he nodded.
“I never asked because I was afraid you’d reject me,” he said softly, looking down. “You’re smart and sweet, I thought once you knew about my family, my father…you’d run away,”
“You are not your father,” you said as you looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have said no,” you hummed, catching his attention.
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t have a potions partner if I did,” you teased as he chuckled.
“You really needed to study tonight,” he mumbled before he moved your hand from his hand, lacing his fingers between yours. “I’m sorry for making assumptions,”
“I’m sorry for never asking how you felt,” you said in return, making him shake his head.
“Well….since we’re already here…I do know a way we can make it up to each other,” he said with a smirk, you rolled your eyes.
“You just told me I needed to study,” you said as he grinned, “you do, you still can. I can quiz you,” he said as he leaned in closer.
“You also need to study,” you reminded him as he chuckled. “You’ve been hanging with Granger too much,” he teased as he walked with you, opening the door to his room. “We can study tonight, but tomorrow if you pass, I know a special reward I can give you,” he said as he kissed your neck.
“A reward for me? Sounds like it’s a reward for you,” you mused as he gently bit your neck.
“Are you saying I don’t treat you well? I’ll have to remind you,” he hummed against your skin, making you shiver.
“Down boy, time to study,” you said as you walked over to his desk. He smirked, looking at you before grabbing his books and placing them in front of you. “Go ahead, study,” he hummed sinking onto his knees in front of you. “I’ll be enjoying myself, perks of the top potions student,” he grinned.
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gelus-ugs · 2 years ago
Note
Can you do all hashiras when they accidently touch reader's breast?
The Hashira when they accidentally touch your breast
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This was definitely a fun one to write! Thanks for the request ☺️🙏🏾
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Gyomei Himejima
Since he can’t see, Gyomei has no idea what he touched
He assumed it was your shoulder or something, but the more he thought about it, the more it didn’t seem to add up
Shoulders aren’t soft and squishy…right?
As he’s thinking, he doesn’t realize that his hand is still there
“Um, Gyomei..do you mind getting your hand off my chest?”
“Oh, of course. Sorry, [Y/n]”
Wait..did you say chest?
Gyomei froze and his face quickly turned red
He quickly bows in your direction
“I’m so sorry for touching you in such a private area”
“It’s okay, Gyomei. It’s not like you meant to”
He still feels terrible about it 😭
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Sanemi Shinazugawa
You two were sparring when you moved to the side to dodge a punch to your chest
But you didn’t move in time and he ended up bumping his hand into your breast
He retracts his hand so fast
He mutters a ‘sorry’ before just…walking away 💀
He doesn’t look at you to hide his face, which is beet red
He avoids eye contact with you for a while because he feels really bad and embarrassed
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Obanai Iguro
He meant to grab Kaburamaru from around your neck, but the snake moved at the last minute and it resulted in Obanai touching your chest
He freezes for a split second before quickly snatching Kaburamaru and walking away
He felt embarrassed and really bad since he violated you
He sends you some sort of gift with a note apologizing
He’s too embarrassed to talk to you for a while
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Mitsuri Kanroji
She was helping you into your new slayer uniform, buttoning your top while making small talk with you
You had decided to change your uniform due to it being uncomfortable and difficult for you to fight in
Mid-sentence, Mitsuri’s hand accidentally slipped from the button and knocked into your chest
She immediately retracted her hands and began to bow over and over again while profusely apologizing
You found the situation pretty funny and assured her it was okay between laughs
She felt really guilty, but was glad that you weren’t offended or mad at her
You both just laughed it off and agreed to let you do the rest of the buttoning
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Kyōjurō Rengoku
You were listening to Rengoku tell a story as you took a walk together
I feel like he’s the type of person to use his hands when he talks
So he was just talking with his hands when he accidentally swung his hand into your chest
He immediately stops talking and gets on all fours to bow and apologize
You reassure him that it’s okay and that it was just an accident, but he keeps going on about how he violated and disrespected you
You will literally have to peel him off the ground and continuously assure him that you didn’t mind since it was just an accident
You two eventually just laugh it off before Rengoku continues his story - this time without using his hands
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Muichiro Tokito
He was trying to point to something beside him, but he didn’t realize how close you were and accidentally knocked his hand into your chest
It takes him ten business days to react 💀
He just pauses and stares at his hand before letting it just fall to his side
He doesn’t even say anything
He just walks away as if nothing happened
He’ll remember a week later and find you just to apologize - not even specifying for what
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Shinobu Kocho
She was treating a wound on your abdomen and accidentally bumped her hand into your chest
She apologized, but continued to tend to your wound nonetheless
You were probably in too much pain to notice/care 😂🤷🏾‍♂️
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Tengen Uzui
You two were at some sort of festival when Tengen saw a necklace and picked it up
“[Y/n], I think this would go well with-”
Necklace in hand, he began to turn to face you as he spoke
He didn’t realize that you were literally right beside him, so he ended up knocking his hands into your chest
“Oh, I didn’t realize how close you were to me, I’m sorry. That wasn’t very flashy, I hope the girls are okay”
He attempts to joke about it to make the situation less awkward
You both just laugh it off and continue having fun at the festival
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Giyu Tomioka
Him and Shinobu were in some petty fist fight
You stepped in between them to break up the fight, catching Giyu mid-punch
You moved back to dodge the punch, but Giyu managed to brush his hand against your chest
He quickly retracted his hand, looking at it as if it were some sort of foreign object
“Well, that wasn’t very nice, Tomioka”
Shinobu commented, attempting to tick him off
“Sorry, [Y/n]”
He apologized before walking off, still weirdly looking at his hand 💀
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joelmillerisapunk · 3 months ago
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Vicious
Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
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Masterlist ★ Wordcount: 1.8k
📽 —★ Summary: In the quiet solitude of your own home, you revel in the rare freedom of an empty house, indulging in forbidden pleasures on a hot summer day. The unexpected arrival of your dads buddy Joel turns your casual rebellion into something far more thrilling.
📽 —★ Warnings: 18+, mdni, reader is in college but is called a "school girl", wears a uniform that has a skirt. Joel and reader are both kinda assholes to each other. Mentions of smoking cigarettes and drinking beer, age gap (reader is early 20's, Joel is whatever you would like but in my mind 40's or older) p in v, uses of slut and whore, in this world and my daydreams Joel is able to get off multiple times without a break (I am not going for supreme accuracy I am going for porn), if I missed anything please let me know
📽 —★ Notes: Hello, welcome to my comeback fic. Please note that I am very rusty since posting my last fic in July 🫠 but I am very excited to be back writing, reading and posting once again! I hope you enjoy. I've missed being here with all you lovely humans so much 🥹
📽 —★ A big thank you to my wonderful friends for reading/hyping me: @milla-frenchy @evolnoomym @thundermartini and @syd-djarin who also helped me with the mood board 💋 love you all so much. And of course @saradika-graphics for the lovely divider
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“I’m home!” you shout the second you walk in the door. Dead silent, no response. You shrug as you make your way to your room but pause halfway up the stairs. No one. That means you can do whatever the hell you want. You walk back down, throwing your backpack to the floor an head to the kitchen, grabbing one of your dad's beers from the fridge, taking it out to the deck. You retrieve your hidden cigarette pack taped beneath the table outside. You grab a cigarette and light it up as you lean back in the chair, opening your legs until your feet rest on either side of the lawnchair. After a stressful day at school, you need some kind of relief. Plus, your schoolgirl uniform is much too uncomfortable on a hot summer day, causing you to undo the top few buttons of your white blouse, allowing the small but cool breeze to graze your exposed skin.
“I always thought you were a bit of a slut.”
You look up to see your dad’s buddy Joel leaning in the doorway, a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth as well. Instead of jumping up, snapping your legs shut, or covering your chest, you give him the finger. That guy can go fuck himself.
“And so polite too.”
“Joel, the last thing I need right now is you and your opinion. School sucked, and I don’t give a shit what you think of me.”
“Christ, kid, I was only fucking with you. I mean, you do look trashy as hell, but that’s okay. I like trashy.”
“Are you hitting on me now? Really? You’re like seventy.”
“Try again sweetheart,” he says, stepping out onto the deck. You try to ignore him as he walks closer until he stops directly in front of you.
“You like the view, asshole?”
“I don’t know,” he says, leaning down and tilting his head. “I wouldn’t have guessed white. I mean, you don’t seem like the innocent type. More like a black satin sort of girl.”
“Oh, don’t you know?” you reply, taking a drag from your cigarette. “We have to wear white panties too. They check us every morning. We line up in a row, and they make us lift our skirts so they can see what we have on under them.”
“I’ll have to see if they have any openings. Sounds like a good job.”
“Oh fuck you. Besides, you wouldn’t know what to do with one of us, let alone three hundred.”
The bastard sinks down until he’s squatting in front of your now wet panties, still smoking as he admires the view. You finally reach down, open your legs wider, and give him the finger with your hand right in front of your cunt. If he wants to look, he can fucking look at that.
“If you didn’t want me, you’d be in the house already instead of sitting there with those pretty legs open.”
“Is that what you think?” you ask, trembling in spite of yourself. He’s a huge dick, but he’s also right. You do like teasing him, and the thought of him going home and jerking off over you is fun.
“I know it,” he says, sitting down at the bottom of the chair.
“And what would you do with a girl like me? I’ve probably had more sex than you’ll ever have. Better sex too.”
“What, with some stupid school boy who fucks like a jackhammer, hoping he’s found the right hole?”
You look at him, rolling your eyes and shaking your head before butting your cigarette.
“Why don’tcha unbutton that shirt some more? Let me see how you’ve filled out.”
“Jesus Christ. What do you think my dad would say if he saw you eyeing his daughter up and down like a piece of meat?”
“What do you think he’d do if he saw you sitting here spread eagle, smoking a cigarette and drinking his beer? His sweet little angel, showin’ off for his friend?" he responds playfully, raising his eyebrows.
You sit up in the chair, never breaking his gaze as you undo the next two buttons of your blouse, revealing your naked chest.
“You’re not going to do a thing,” you say, reaching down and opening your shirt just enough for him to get a glimpse. “You’re going to sit there and drool over my body.”
“Is that whatcha think?” he chuckles. “What's actually going to happen is that I'm going to bend you over and fuck you until you cry.”
“You’d probably come the second you got a glimpse of my pussy. I bet you’re so hard right now you can barely think."
“Try me,” he says, moving up between your legs. His hand now under your skirt.
“Let go and I’ll show you,” you say, your voice nearly catching in your throat. He moves his hand in an instant. You reach down, gently touching the lips around your clit through the thin white fabric. Joel watches the entire time, never taking his eyes off of your hand. “Is this what you want?” you say, pulling the white cotton to one side, exposing your pussy to his greedy eyes.
“It’s a start,” he replies as he moves closer. He lifts your legs up over his knees. You are silent as he unzips his pants, and as much as you try not to watch, you can’t help yourself. He reaches in, and in one fluid motion, his cock juts out of his boxers.
“Jesus,” you say as he begins to stroke himself slowly. He’s only partially hard, but his cock is big and thick, and you are on dangerous ground.
“Just like those high school boys?” he asks, reaching out, grabbing you around the waist. Before you can protest, he pulls you up onto his lap, his hard cock stuck between your pussy and his stomach. His other hand joins the first until his fingers dig into the cheeks of your ass. His face is inches from you.
“You don’t have the nerve,” you say, not willing to look away.
Joel wastes no time as he tears your blouse open, the last remaining buttons flying off as he pulls it down over your shoulders, your bare breasts now fully visible. He tugs it down even further until it slides off your arms, leaving you topless.
“I’m going to fuck you, baby. I’m going to push those panties to one side, shove my big cock in you, and then listen to you scream.”
“I’ll tell my dad,” you whisper.
“No you won’t,” he says, sliding his hand all the way beneath you. As he holds you tight, he slips his fingers beneath your panties and then inside your now soaking wet pussy, working them in and out for a few seconds before bringing his hand up to your mouth and pushing his fingers between your lips. You gladly lick your excitement off his thick digits, feeling his large cock grow against you.
“You’re going to come in seconds," you whisper. “If you even make it inside me. You have no idea how sweet my little cunt is."
“Guess we’ll have to find out. But first, let’s see if you’re right, or if you’re just a filthy little slut who needs another dick.”
Before you can think of a response, he lifts you up, pushing your panties to one side, and then guides his large cock into you. In one swift motion, he’s deep inside of you, and you are on his lap. You try to suppress a moan as he pulls you closer.
“You knew this was going to happen the second you saw me. And so did I,” he adds.
He begins to move slowly, feeling him slide in and out of you each time you tighten your grip. Fuck, he feels good; his cock hitting your walls in all the right places. It’s not fair.
“And you’re a whore,” he says, moving his mouth down your chin, making his way down your neck.
“You’re an asshole,” you mutter, causing him to thrust harder.
“Which is why you’re letting me fuck you.” His hands run through your hair, gripping it in his hand as he continues to fuck you. You moan louder, trying to hold back a scream as his fingers grip tighter and tighter around your hair. You can feel his balls throbbing against you as his breath quickens. You are on fire as his cock pumps into your wet, hot, sensitive pussy, causing both of you to groan loudly. You can tell he’s close to his own release; you can feel your pussy convulsing, and you start moving on him harder. He grabs your hips, holding you still as he pounds himself into you. His balls clench tight as he groans loudly in ecstasy, his breath harsh with lust. His climax soon follows after, rope after rope of hot liquid exploding inside of you. He stays buried inside of you as the orgasm takes over him completely. After a few moments of catching his breath, Joel looks at you and mutters between breaths, "Just because I came doesn’t mean I’m done with you.”
And then he pulls out of you, flipping you over, pushing you down onto the deck chair and your panties to the side so you can feel him against you, his cock still dripping. But then, somehow, he’s back inside of you, fucking you into the fabric of the chair. “You might be cute, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop.”
“Oh fuck,” you gasp, feeling his weight against you, pinning you down. When he reaches an arm around your neck, you begin to moan. Oh god, don’t stop Joel. Don’t stop fucking me; I’m gonna come.”
“That’s right, baby. Come for me. Come like the little slut you are.”
“Fuck!” you cry out, feeling yourself let go completely. You shake and tremble as you clench around him. His breath picks up as he’s close to his own orgasm.
“I’m going to come in this pussy one more time.”
“No!” you beg, needing to at least pretend to resist when in fact you don't want this to ever end. The thought of him coming in you again makes your pussy tighten in anticipation. Then finally, when it seems he won't ever come inside of you, he does. Your entire body begins trembling, fighting against another orgasm. As you feel him pull out of you, he turns you over, putting his hand in your panties and cupping your cheek. Your eyes open wide, and you can feel the warm liquid dripping from your thighs. He looks down at his own cock. It too has started to twitch.
“Look at the mess you made," he whispers, placing the tip of his cock into the wetness. "You'd better clean this up before someone sees. You're going to lick every drop,” he commands. You nod. "Good girl."
As you place kisses along his cock, licking away any remaining semen, Joel watches in amusement. You stand up, looking up at him.
“Are you satisfied?" you ask.
“For now," he smirks, turning towards the house. "See ya tomorrow." With that, he goes up the porch steps, his back to you and makes his way home, only to be back tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after.
619 notes · View notes
star--stilinski · 1 month ago
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wow, you're so fucked.
stiles is standing next to you, a sweaty beacon of pride as he chats with scott and isaac excitedly, his lacrosse uniform still on and not making things any easier for you.
he had just played a game and won. something unusual for him, clear in the way he seems to glow a bit at the attention he's receiving. you can admit that he did better than his regular performances, which often included him sitting idly by on the bench. but you really don't need to deal with this. rambling, hyper focused stiles is one thing.
sweaty, cocky stiles is another.
he laughs at something danny says-oh, danny's here? you didn't even notice him approach, too distracted with the way stiles' hair sticks to his forehead. anyway, his laugh might make you swoon. jesus, are you ovulating? there's a wet patch forming in your panties and you know it. whore.
"oh, yes! we will so be there!" stiles slings an arm over your shoulder and grins at danny. you can smell his sweat, now, and unfortunately stiles' musk only makes you want to ride his dick even more.
"be where?" you blink, turning a curious gaze on stiles, who looks at you all confused and cute and his lips are so pink and his skin glistens with sweat and i bet the rest of him does, too-
"are you okay?" he hums, squeezing you against his side just slightly. you nod and turn to danny to avoid moaning at the sight of stiles' adams apple.
"sorry, i was zoned out."
danny looks like he's disappointed in you. because of-fucking-course danny māhealani can tell that you're this close to giving stiles a blowjob in front of the entire student body. just because he's sweaty and excited and prideful. you glare at danny, just to shut him up.
he talks anyway.
"some of us were gonna go grab food to celebrate, and i was just inviting you guys. unless you'll be... busy." danny drawls his last words with clear implication, but stiles is too busy being excited that he got invited to something by the "in" crowd to notice.
"and i told him we were going." stiles grins down at you, raising his eyebrows in anticipation. you avoid his eyes, tilting your head.
"i dunno..." you pick at your nails, and stiles is quick to stop you. a habit you both have and you're both trying to quit. "it's kinda late, and we have that essay-"
"oh, come on, don't tell me you're passing this up for homework." stiles tosses his head back dramatically and you hear danny snicker. you know if you look at danny again, you'll want to throttle him. but looking at stiles means looking at his moles and freckles, his jawline, his brow.
you swallow thickly.
"yeah, okay, shut up. i was gonna say yes." you fold so quick that stiles actually steps back from you in shock, and you avoid grabbing him by the jersey to keep his scent all over you.
danny smirks at you, nodding once. "see you guys there. try not to fog up the windows on the way."
stiles waves as danny leaves, and you're pretty confident he didn't even hear that last part because of how focused he is on being overdramatic about you saying yes to him so easily. his eyes are wide and his mouth is open when you turn to look at him, and he let's out a squeaky surprised noise.
"what-you always argue about this stuff! did you have some moment of discovery?!" he grabs both your shoulders and you fight a smile, shrugging him off. you can't just tell the boy, 'oh, it's a whole lot harder to say no to you when all i can think about is how far i would go to get you in my pants.'
right?
you settle for an easy half-truth. "just didn't wanna dampen your good mood. you're practically bouncing off the bleachers right now."
when you look back at stiles, he has that stupid crooked smile cocked all smartly at you. feeling bold, he gives your hip a light squeeze and hums, "atta girl."
yeah, you are so incredibly fucked.
this is my most popular from the vault!! it's also one of the first things i published here. stay tuned for more vault releases and an upcoming thomas fic :D
this anon made me giggle so here's a snippet of pt. 2 (its a joke dont get your hopes up)
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mytheoristavenue · 9 months ago
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How MHA Guys React to Fangirls
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Summary: Dating a pro hero can be a challenge, especially one so handsome, with so many rabid fans.
Warnings: jealousy, fluff, gn!reader, very little angst
Katsuki Bakugo:
Bakugo has never been into having fans as he is just being all together admired. Not one for social interactions, he tends to clam up and become defensive when asked for an autograph, so when he's approached by a fangirl, he wants nothing to do with them. Especially if he's out with you, off duty. If one does happen to approach, and ignoring them doesn't do the trick, he'll make sure he's not their favorite hero anymore by the end of it.
"Do I look like I'm on duty to you? Can't you see I'm out with my partner or are you fucking blind? Piss off, I ain't signin' any damn autographs."
Izuku Midoriya:
Izuku totally understands how it feels to be a hopelessly obsessed fan, so he cuts his fans a lot of slack- sometimes too much. Though he rerfused to admit it at first, he has a lot of fangirls. and he's never the type to hurt someone's feelings on purpose, so he almost always stops for free autographs and photo ops. It can be sometimes frustrating how much of a people pleaser he can be, but rest assured, if he feels like you are getting too uncomfortable, or a fan is becoming too bold, he politely and swiftly ends the interaction.
"Hey, thanks for the support! I'd love to stay and chat, but it's actually my day off, so me and and my partner here are gonna move along. Hope to see you at the next event I attend, though!"
Tenya Iida:
Iida does truly enjoy interactions with his fanbase, but he considers that part of the job, and he's very strick about working off the clock. Because of this, he declines nearly every interaction if he's off duty. He absolutely has no tollerance for being flirted with, either, especially in front of you.
"I appreiciate your enthusiasm, but I and currently off duty and will not be indulging in fan interaction at this time! Please feel free to catch me anytime you see me in uniform! Good day!"
Shoto Todoroki:
Shoto doesn't beleive he has fans, genuinely. He can't quite wrap his head around having a fanbase, or being a fan of a celebrity in the first place, due to how he grew up. It tends to bewilder him when strangers approach him on the street wanting autographs, even more so when they try and put the moves on him. It just goes in one ear and out the other.
"You want an autograph? Why? Well, okay, I guess, but then we should get going. My partner and I are busy."
Eijiro Kirishima:
Kirishima tends to have a very healthy balance of pleasing fans and knowing when to say no. He loves giving out autographs, taking selfies, and giving hugs to all his fans. He especially loves interactions with child fans because it reminds him of how he idolized Crimson Riot, and he hopes to inspire someone like that too. He is, however, very aware when he's being flirted with or sexualized, and has no issue with promptly, albeit politely shutting it down.
"Alright, ladies, I understand someone as manly as me attracts a lot of attention, but my partner here is the only one I've got eyes for, and I ask that you please respect that."
Denki Kaminari:
Unfortunaely for you, Denki loves attention from fans, especially from his fangirls. He never turns down a signing or photo op, posing with girls however they want, even if it means something suggestive. To his credit, he will stop if you ask him to, but you still have to ask.
"Oh, what's that? Okay. Sorry ladies, we gotta run, but catch me at the next meet and greet!"
Hanta Sero:
Like Kirishima, Sero seems to have a pretty healthy mix of reactions. He loves his fans to death and would do most anything for them, especially kids. He lets his fangirls sexualize him to a small extent, knowing they probably don't totally realize he's a real person, but if they come to commenting on his body, or touching more than his shoulder, upper back, or elbows, he puts a stop to it.
"Now, that's enough, ladies. I appreiciate the admiration but even us celebrities have to set boundaries. It was nice meeting you, but it's actually my day off so me and my partner are gonna get, have a nice day!"
Minoru Mineta:
Like Denki, Mineta unfortunately lets his fangirls do whatever they want to him, short of carry him off. He actually does sometimes feel guilty for hurting your felings, however. He just doesn't realize how his flirting can affect you at times. He hopes you know that, even if he does flirt back, it's you who he truly loves!
"Awe, babe, I'm sorry! They don't even matter to me, I swear! It's you that I love, not some silly fangirl!"
Tokoyami Fumikage:
Tokoyami for the life of him does not know how to interact with his fans. He gets overwhelmed by crowds, but can usually handle interactions if they come one or two at a time. He typically caters to most requests, unless they happen to be personal questions, or something embarrassing. He doesn't like the idea of some fans being attracted to him, as he's only attracted to you, and he feels guilty beign someone's unrequited love. Due to this, he doesn't entertain any kind of flirting from any of his fans, no matter what gender.
"Sorry, I'm not comfrotable signing that for you, can you pick something else? My partner here is my only love, so it wouldn't be right of me to sign your photo with anything romantic."
Mezo Shoji:
It took a lot of convincing to get Shoji to understand that he had fans, let alone ones that were attracted to him. he's just not used to people other than you thinking of him that way, with his mutations and all. You actually had to show him all of the fan works of him online to get him to believe you. That being said, Shoji loves his fans, but he tends to get overwhelmed by the sheer number of them, and the fact that the can forget he's a person, not a character. In the past, he's had issues with fangirls stroking his muscles during photo ops, squeezing his pecks, and one even tried to yank his mask down. Luckily since then, he has learned how to manage fan interactions much better.
"Hey, don't do that. I'm a person, just like you, please treat me how you'd want to be treated. And don't disrespect my partner by tyring something inappropriate right in front of them."
Mashiroa Ojiro:
Like Shoji, Ojiro had a hard time accepting he had fans, but took much less convincing on your part. What he really struggled with was coming to terms with some of his fans liking him romantically. He doesn't typically turn away fan interactions, even on his days off, but he does cut them shorter that he would if he were working. If someone tries anything inappropriate, he ends the interaction right there.
"Sorry, I don't appreciate what you just did. Besides, it's my day off and I'd like to spend it with my partner here. I forgive you though, and hope to see you again at a meet and greet in the future!"
Tamaki Amajiki:
Tamaki appreciates the thought of having fans, and when standing intront of a cheering crowd, he can soemtiems handle it, but he really hates fan interactions. He never knows how to handle them, and many end up with him just nervously standing by while a stranger takes pictures with him, many times without his permission. Many times, you have to step up from him and ask the person politely to move along, which he always appreiciates.
"T-Thanks, babe... They were making me really uncomfortable but I didn't wanna hurt their feelings..."
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fatherbrat · 2 months ago
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every bone in your body knows you shouldn’t invite him in.
it’s a good thing you’re thinking with your clit!
kuroo is smirking when you open your front door, that smug all-knowing expression sitting pretty on his face. you barely even manage to get him inside before you’re all over each other. 
“missed me?” he breathes between kisses, but you don’t respond, too preoccupied with getting him to your bedroom without losing skin-to-skin contact or bumping into any furniture.
your shirt’s already been discarded somewhere between the living room and the laundry room. his hands are making quick work of unzipping your shorts, and somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder why you bothered wearing clothes anyways. you both know there’s only one reason you’d invite him over after dark.
when you sit on the edge of your bed you’re annoyed to find him wearing a belt. you pause briefly, silently questioning why he chose to forgo the typical sweats. reading your mind, kuroo explains. “i came straight here from work.” it isn’t until then you notice the black button-up he’s also wearing—the mandated uniform you both share.
it’s the perfect reality check. isn’t this exactly why you had to leave your last serving job? it’s never a good idea to fuck your coworkers. you pull back, resting your hands in your lap.
“this isn’t a good idea. you should go home. i’m sorry i texted.” you glance up at him, only to be surprised at the pitying look he’s giving you.
he kneels in front of you, his unbuckled belt clinking at the movement. all of his previous smugness has been washed away, replaced with a specific kind of anguish. you don’t bother thinking about whether it’s genuine or not. does it matter? his hands find your knees, rubbing gentle circles with each thumb.
“but you texted me for a reason right?” his voice is soft. imploring. desperate.
he’s looking up at you like a starving man, begging for a morsel. he pushes your knees apart gently, stopping halfway and catching your eyes again, a silent plea.
you only hesitate for a moment before nodding. you already fucked this particular coworker. would be a shame to stop now!
he wastes no time, fingers hooking the waistband of your shorts and your underwear almost immediately.
“lift your hips for me, baby.” you obey, and are rewarded with a lingering kiss to your inner thigh.
“i promise i’ll do all the work from here.” another kiss. “just relax, okay?” kiss. “i’m gonna take my time.”
you gasp when his mouth finds your clit, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles. you can feel him smiling against your skin at your reaction, but he doesn’t say anything, just continues his painfully slow ministrations. 
you have half a mind to dig your fingers into his hair and yank his face closer. but you don’t, not in the mood for whatever snarky comment he might throw your way in response.
kuroo can sense your impatience before you say anything anyway. your fingertips pressing into his scalp speak volumes. he slips two of his fingers inside you, curling them up against your g-spot. 
the sensation has your back arching up off the bed. kuroo doesn’t miss a beat, laying his free hand on your stomach and lowering you back down onto the bed. 
his mouth never leaves your cunt, licking and sucking and slurping until that familiar tautness takes over your muscles.
“fuck,” you hiss. “tetsu, i think i’m gonna—“
he already knows. his fingers brush your g-spot one more time before he pulls them out of you and replaces them with his tongue, his nose nudging your clit. 
you scream his name as you come, pulling him deeper into your cunt as a stream of fluid erupts from you. you’re all tingly by the time you let him come up for air. 
kuroo’s beaming at you when he pulls away, the bottom half his face wet and glistening. 
“i love when you do that,” he says, licking his lips as he tugs his pants down. 
you roll your eyes as you scoot up the bed, but the action seems tamer than usual post-orgasm. kuroo only smiles wider, shifting his attention to unbuttoning his shirt before he climbs onto the bed with you. 
he’s already hard, tapping his tip on your sticky clit. “let’s make a bet.”
you tilt your head to the side and raise an eyebrow. “what kind of bet?”
“if i can make you squirt again tonight, you have to work my shift tomorrow night.”
it takes everything in you not to laugh. “and if you can’t?”
kuroo shrugs. “i’ll work your next shift. and i’ll give you all the tips i make that night. it’ll be like pto.”
he stops tapping, just letting his cock rest against you. the two of you share a look when you twitch. you both know you’re going to lose. 
“deal.”
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froggibus · 3 months ago
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Scenting - Beelzebub
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Pairing: Beelzebub x reader (no pronouns are used, but reader has a pussy)
Genre: smut/NSFW
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: when you come to school smelling like another man, Beel strives to change that
CW: scent kink, scenting, marking, possessive Beel, size difference, Beel carries you, oral, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, some dirty talk
omg! this was supposed to be posted on the 30th but schoolwork got the best of me. this fic was in collaboration with @ficsforgaza's kinktober event! thank you for being so patient ^^
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The scent of pumpkin and vanilla nearly knocks Beel out of his chair when you sit down next to him. He scrunches the nose, sniffing the air around you. The aroma is unmistakably yours—but there’s something else beneath it, too. Something warmer, something sweeter.
He frowns, sucking in a breath and leaning back in his chair.
“Good morning,” you hum.
“Morning.”
Beel can’t help but glance around the room, squinting at anyone that so much as looks your way. Surely he’s not the only one that smells it, surely he’s not the only one that’s turned on by it.
His frown only deepens when he sees the way you’re being looked at—when he sees the glazed over eyes of the demons around him. He shifts closer to you, clamping a protective hand over the back of your chair.
Not his human. Not today.
Beel barely manages to make it through the class. His pants have gotten uncomfortably tight and his nostrils burn with your delectable scent. He’s more than grateful when you wave goodbye to him and gather your books, shuffling out the door to your next class.
Even after you’ve retreated down the halls, the smell lingers. It’s like a taunt, beckoning him closer and closer to something he can’t have.
Beel lets himself take a few breaths, digging his calloused fingers into the meat of his thighs. He can do this. Only a few more classes—all of which you’re not even in. 
But you still linger in the corner of his mind through all of his classes. The way you looked, the way you smelled, the way the others were looking at you. It’s all too much.
Beel’s leg shakes, a sour taste in his mouth as he watches the clock above the door. Just a few more minutes and he can go home. Just a few more minutes and he can see you again and reassure himself.
And then the bell rings and he’s springing to his feet, practically barrelling down the halls to where your locker is. He leans against it as casually as he can, broad shoulders resting against cold metal, and waits for you.
He smells you before he sees you, the dizzying aroma almost sending him to his knees. He watches as you skip towards him, a wide smile on your face and a hand raised in greeting.
You beam at him, “hey!” 
Beel nods as nonchalantly as he can, sliding away from your locker to give you access. You’re so close to him that he can feel your warmth, savoring your scent and—he frowns.
He looks you up and down, examining every inch of your skin and RAD uniform. He sniffs again, brows furrowing. There, buried beneath your vanilla pumpkin heaven, is something new. Something unfamiliar. Something wrong. 
He freezes when you rest a hand on his shoulder. “Everything okay?” You ask.
He clears his throat, subconsciously puffing out his chest. “Yeah. Fine, yeah. How were your classes?”
You close your locker, slinging your bag over your shoulder and starting the walk back to the House of Lamentation. You excitedly tell him about your day, going into detail about all of the things that happened while Beel nods along.
Guilt grasps him. Usually he loves listening to you talk about your day, chiming in with random little questions to keep you talking. But he can’t focus today—not when you look so pretty and you smell so good and some other demon’s scent is all over you.
Anger bubbles in his chest everytime he catches a hint of it. It’s him that you should smell like right now. His scent should be the one surrounding you, scaring away those scummy lesser demons. The thoughts burrow into his skull, spinning around until he’s trapped in a nauseating cycle.
He’s snapped out of his thoughts when you brush a hand down his arm. He flinches away from your touch, violet eyes baring down on you.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
You’re standing in front of the door to the House of Lamentation looking at him with vulnerable eyes. You can tell something’s up—you’ve been able to tell since you sat down next to him this morning. You’re not stupid, after all. 
He looks over his shoulder as if he expects someone to be listening in. “Whose scent is that?”
Your mouth falls open. “What?”
“That smell,” his tone gets stronger as he goes on, “whose is it? It’s all over you.”
You raise an arm, sniffing yourself. You cock your head at him in confusion. “Do you mean my deodorant? Or my body spray?”
He swallows hard and shakes his head. He finds himself wishing he hadn’t said anything, that he’d ignored it and gone to his room and jerked off until the thought of you melted away. Because now you’re looking at him expectantly as if this is something he can just explain. 
“No, just—” He shakes his head, “nevermind.”
Beel moves past you, muttering something to himself and throwing open the door. You follow after him, brows still knit together in confusion. You’ve never seen him like this—all frustrated and high strung.
You grab him before you can even think about it. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, clutching and tugging him back towards you. His head whips around, eyes wide and confused as they focus on you.
“What are you doing?”
“You seem upset,” you murmur.
Beel’s eyes stay locked on yours and he doesn’t bother to move your hand off of his. The rise and fall of his chest grows faster with each passing second, each breath a torturous inhale of that unfamiliar scent. 
Your voice shakes when you speak again, confusion and embarrassment coiling in your stomach. “I want to help you. Let me help you.”
You’re not sure who initiates it but suddenly you’re pressed tight against him, lips pressed against his. His arms are tight on your body, holding you to him like he’s afraid you’ll leave at any minute.
You reach around his shoulders, hands clawing at the fabric of his jacket while your lips move against his. Each shallow, gasping breath only leads to more kissing, more intensity. 
He inhales you with every passing second, only driving his desperation further. He crouches down, hands sliding down your body as he does, and then he’s tossing you over his shoulder.
You squeal at your world turning upside down, your legs hanging limply down his chest. He hoists you up with one arm, his warm hand on the small of your back as he carries you up the stairs to his room. 
Anticipation sets your nerves on fire, an unbearable heat coursing through your body. Nerves bubble up like soda pop in your tummy when his door comes into view.
His grip on you only tightens as he kicks his door open and slams it behind you, dropping you on the bed in front of him. You land in his pile of blankets and pillows with a squeak, scurrying back towards his headboard. 
He crawls up the bed towards you, crouching between your legs. “Still wanna help?” He rasps.
You bite your lip and nod, your knees lazily falling to either side to give him more access. 
He rubs a hand up and down your thigh, getting closer and closer to the waistband of your pants with every stroke. You let your eyes flutter close, focused only on the feeling of his touch.
His fingers lock into the hem of your pants and then he’s tugging them down, your underwear coming down with them. As soon as your pussy hits the cold air, you gasp, trying to close your legs.
Beel catches your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders so he can stuff his face between them. He inhales, eyes flicking up to meet yours, “damn, you smell so fucking good.”
You look away shyly, your legs shaking in anticipation. Soft breaths roll over your sensitive core, each one sending shivers down your spine.
Beel stays poised between your legs, breathing in that hot, sweet scent of your dripping cunt laid out in front of him. You smell so sweet, so pure—so his. And yet, that other bitter demonic smell still lingers in the air. He’ll have to change that.
A moan escapes you when he spits on your pussy, rubbing it in with his index finger. He traces circles up and down your slit, collecting the slick that pools onto his sheets and bringing it up to his mouth to taste. 
And then he’s diving into your pussy headfirst, lips locking around your clit. His hair tickles the sides of your thighs, orange strands bobbing with each moment. You reach out and tangle your fingers in his hair, using it to tug him further into you.
The pressure only drives him to keep going. His tongue circles around your entrance, a finger sliding inside of you with ease. The sudden fullness has your eyes rolling back, thighs clenching around his face. He continues to pump in and out of you, teeth gently grazing against your swollen clit.
You cry out for him, pulling on his hair so hard that it leaves his scalp tingling. He doesn’t care, though. All he cares about are your thighs shaking around his shoulders and the way your pussy is drooling on his tongue.
“So fucking good,” he moans. “So fucking mine.”
Tears build up in your lashes, a white hot knot forming in your stomach. Through your wet eyes, you can barely make out the sight of Beel’s face shoved between your legs, his hips grinding into the mattress in desperation. He lets out a soft whine into your pussy, and that’s all it takes to send you over the edge. 
You cum so hard your vision goes blurry. Your thighs shake, clenching and unclenching around his face as you ride out your high. He keeps his tongue lined up at your entrance, greedily drinking up your juices.
You’re panting when you come to, your head spinning from the pleasure. Beel pulls his face away from your pussy, blinking at your disheveled form on his mattress.
He smirks at you, mouth glistening with your juices. “Think you can keep going, sweetheart?”
“Y-yeah,” you say weakly.
He smiles at you, quickly discarding his jeans on the floor. His boxers are stained dark from precum, his cock bulging through the fabric. You reach out, fingers gently brushing the outline of it.
He tugs down his boxers, letting his cock swing free. It’s almost painfully hard and drenched in pre, his whole length glistening in desperation.
You pull your knees up to your chest, letting him situate himself between your legs. His tip grazes your entrance, just barely brushing against you. 
“Please.” You whine, “put it in.”
You hardly have any time to react before he’s pushing his cock inside of you, his thick tip stretching you in a way that has your eyes rolling back. You gather a fistful of his sheets, fingers curling around them to ground yourself. Each inch of his cock is a stretch, driving him deeper and deeper until you can feel him everywhere.
Beel’s teeth graze the side of your neck, his hips stilling inside of you to give you a minute to adjust. He leaves marks in his wake, making his way from your neck, to your jaw, and finally, your lips.
His kisses are wet and sloppy and desperate, leaving both of you panting and dizzy. And then he starts thrusting and you come undone beneath him. Whimpers and whines and the sounds of skin on skin fill the room, Beel’s hips snapping violently against yours with each thrust.
With each kiss, with each thrust, his scent washes over you—covering the scent that had marked you before. The sudden change only spurs him further, his motions getting more and more desperate.
“Smell so nice,” he groans, “gonna make you smell like me. Gonna make sure all these demons know who you belong to.”
You babble in acknowledgement, your head spinning from the delicious way his cock fills you up. Each thrust drives you closer and closer to the edge, his filthy words only adding onto the pleasure. 
“Gonna fill this pussy up so everyone can smell my cum inside you.”
Your muscles spasm, your pussy clenches and suddenly you’re coming undone once more. You reach for his shoulders, tugging him down on top of you while you unravel. 
Beel keeps going, getting closer and closer to his own high. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He pants, “if everyone knew how good you are for me. If everyone knew I claimed you like this.”
You manage a soft little ‘yes’ and that’s all it takes to have him cumming inside of you, hot ropes of cum filling you up. He drives his hips as deep as possible, bottoming out so he doesn’t waste a single drop.
He stays inside of you even after he finishes, his sweaty body caging yours beneath him. 
“Are you gonna move?” You say.
He considers it for a moment, inhaling the scent of your skin. He frowns—you don’t smell enough like him. At least, not yet. But a few more rounds should change that.
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(if you like content like this, likes, comments & rbs are greatly appreciated! ^^)
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osamucide · 3 months ago
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SAW THAT OBELISCO, I SAID “QUE LINDA” ⊹
. . . BSD dick headcanons . . . incl. select ADA, PM, + DOA
wc: 1.6k total, ~120 each
cw: detailed descriptions of cocks, balls, cum, bush, etc. big dick men, small dick men, average dick men, and all of them are very gorgeous to me
reid: dick headcanons. title from one of sabrina’s nonsense outros which i think about constantly
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—ADA!
okay, maybe I’m biased but I think DAZAI’S strapped. he’s right on the verge of eight inches hard. tiny, tiny upward curve, and sticks straight up against his stomach; has only a few little veins, a pale shaft, and a blushy pink tip that is just so kissable. uniform thickness; a little thinner than average. he doesn’t go out of his way to groom himself—his bush is usually pretty wild, but he’ll gladly adhere to his partner’s preference. you will not catch this man shaving his balls but it's fine because they're gorgeous (maybe a little smaller than average). frenulum is so sensitive to pressure; I think he’s a big fan of fucking his partner with just the first few inches. he cums an absurd amount, too; pretty, almost-transluscent loads that twitch out in one short spurt after another. ⊹
KUNIKIDA is packing too, sorry. a little thick for his length; probably almost six inches but boy it’s gonna be a stretch. no taper, but has a fat head that literally nails all the right spots perfectly. I think he has a a few freckles on his dick. some not-so-prominent veins aside from one running up the underside, warm pink all the way to the base where it fades into his skin tone, and his balls are so distinct—both clearly defined, and they twitch so much when he's receiving pleasure (please play with them). grooms himself almost completely, but leaves a patch at the base of his pelvis—it's a light sandy brown—only a little darker than the rest of the hair on his body—and his cum is thick, opaque, and dribbles out in globs. ⊹
ATSUSHI has more than he knows what to do with. he’s on the upward side of average; just under six inches, and it is so fucking pretty. has a single prominent vein running down the top and it is sensitive. pale like the rest of him until just beneath the head, where he's a cool pink; slight taper in thickness—a little thinner at the top, just beneath his head, which is round and weepy. he leaks so much precum. he's not great at maintenance, but his bush is probably a little on the thinner side anyway; like Kunikida's it's only a couple shades darker than the rest of his light hair. pearly, picturesque cum that's on the thicker side. breeder balls. ⊹
it’s kind of a cruel fucking joke how huge RANPO is. just a bit bigger than Dazai, but admittedly thicker, and he has veins for days. I can hardly see him grooming—too much of a hassle for something that makes no difference pleasure-wise—but he'll trim if his partner expresses any complaint about his unruliness (his bush is probably decently thick). pale, a little tanner toward the tip, and curves a bit to the side; I think he loves experimenting with different angles and positions while he's fucking his partner. another one with thick, opaque cum; his balls are pretty proportional to him (read: huge), and the underside of his shaft is so sensitive. loves being clenched down on over and over. ⊹
FUKUZAWA is just… so much man. a little on the slender side, but long. almost seven inches. veiny as hell; his cock is chiseled like a god's. tan near the base, paler near the tip, and all of him gets so blushy when he's hard; vigilant about routine trimming as a general rule, but he's extra responsive to how his partner prefers him to be groomed (or not). has a pair of balls that belong on a Florentine statue. he's another one that cums an obscene amount; milky and creamy like hot donut glaze, I'm not even kidding. probably tastes like it too. super sensitive on the large vein that runs up the underside of him, and all over the bundles of nerves packed into his tip—loves kitten licks before getting deepthroated. ⊹
TANIZAKI’S not packing anything huge, but god it’s got a perfect upward curve and prominent head that would catch against anyone’s insides so perfectly. four inches exactly, proportional thickness, and a prominent head that's absolutely the most sensitive part of him. has no particular grooming routine; he lets himself go usually, but is another that will adhere if his partner has a preference. moderately veiny, slightly darker than the rest of him, pink tip, and tight balls that hold more cum than they look like they're capable of; he gushes milky globs, and twitches wildly when he does. ⊹
—PM!
where do I start with CHUUYA… thick. absurdly thick. thee pussy destroyer. not lacking in length either; about six and half inches. only a tinge tanner than the rest of him, with a tip that goes red when he's worked up. has the prettiest bush known to man, which he keeps neat but doesn't ever get rid of completely. has thick, pretty balls that hang low and slap lewdly against his parter's hole(s)/chin/taint when he fucks them. doesn't cum an insane amount but it's gooey, sticky, viscous, and it drips down him so beautifully; small veins scattered all over and one large, prominent one that reaches from base to tip on his underside, and a few freckles. ⊹
AKUTAGAWA is another one that’s just ridiculous, because, like, no way the most stoic, don’t-touch-me ass man in the series is slanging this much dick. he probably doesn’t even realize it. almost seven inches, and he’s girthy too. so many veins; two prominent ones on the underside, and he curves a little to the side and then a little upward. anyway, he’s meticulous about grooming for comfort purposes. not a hair on him; I think he prefers at least a little on his partner, though. sensitive all over, but especially at the tip—which gets so red and cute when you tease him with your fingers or tongue. daintier balls full of thin, silky cum—probably tastes the sweetest on the whole list. ⊹
TACHIHARA’S on the lower end of the average spectrum, but fuck he knows what to do with it. a little under five inches, no curve in sight, average uniform thickness—he sticks straight out, tanner near the base, gradually pinker-to-redder toward the tip and he is so fucking leaky. practically drools precum when he’s turned on. satisfying girth without demanding a painful stretch; balls also on the smaller side but full of runny, opaque cum and he makes a mess every single time whether he intends to or not. grooms pretty vigilantly; usually almost bare if he's with a partner. his tip and the area just beneath it is so incredibly sensitive—slurp this man up. ⊹
ANGO is pretty and pale and slender and curves a teeny bit to the side and oh my god, he’s so sensitive. all over. from tip to base, being touched or clamped down on just immediately sends him skyward. I think he’s probably working with a hair under five inches, with a few select veins that twitch when he cums. he keeps a pretty patch of hair that connects to the sexiest happy trail—otherwise, I think he's pretty vigilant about grooming. suck on his balls, please—he'll get them so right for you to lick, stroke, play with. creamy cum, only a little on the watery side, and it almost looks artful when it spurts from him. ⊹
ODA’S probably got the closest thing to a monster cock, and the only one pulling ahead of Ranpo length-wise. nothing about him’s small. pushing nine inches hard. wider at the base than the tip, and l’m talking wide. fuck two hands, you’ll need four. doesn’t groom, but trims. tan and veiny, gets red and twitchy when he's aroused. this whole man was probably hand-made by god with the intent of breeding in mind, but to sum it up in two words: breeder balls. and they have so much stark, opaque cum in them—perfect consistency, and it shoots out in long, milky ropes. most sensitive around his base, so you better take all of him, okay? ⊹
—DOA!
don’t crucify me for this one (pun not intended) but FYODOR’S working with about four inches. I just can’t see him having a huge cock. but, his girth is incredibly satisfying. not an insane stretch, but enough for a pleasant fullness; he’s not veiny either, put his tip is so prominent and definitely drags wonderfully against any sensitive spots inside his partner. thin layer of hair he keeps neatly groomed; his tip is definitely the most sensitive part of him, but I think his balls are a close second. loves having his balls played with while he gets his cock sucked; will likely spurt double the amount of his thick, sticky cum if you do it. ⊹
SIGMA’S upward curve should be studied, truly. it’s probably some sort of divine geometry. uniformly pale from base to tip, blushes the smallest hint of pink when he's aroused. on the smaller side, probably pushing a little over four inches, and not particularly thick either but that curve—that curve fucking gets it done. very few visible veins other than one trailing up his underside, and the hair in this area is already sparse on him, so he doesn't groom much; maybe trims every so often. the seam running between his pretty balls is definitely the most sensitive, other than his tip. cum is watery, and probably also on the sweeter side. ⊹
NIKOLAI’S huge. send tweet. I can’t see him being any more or less than seven and a half inches. veiny motherfucker with a prominent head that pounds it good and the slightest, ittiest bittiest curve downward that feels so right when he hits it from the back. pale all the way up and down, except for his ultra-sensitive tip, which leans tanner than the rest of him; another one with balls that hang low and smack hard against whoever he's fucking (he loves the feeling of this). extremely twitchy when he cums; spurts out watery streams of pearly white, although he doesn't cum a lot. likes to watch it leak, drip, and gush out of/onto his partner. ⊹
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augustinewrites · 2 years ago
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sweet nothing ft the fushigojos to make up for the last fic i wrote for them heh
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gojo satoru was not made for domesticity. this has always been something you've known, something you've accepted.
you're just not sure that he has.
it's a little past midnight when he trudges into your bedroom, tired lines creasing his pretty face as he shuffles around the room. he greets you with a quiet hey, and a peck on the forehead before stripping off his uniform, tossing it into the basket with a little more force than necessary.
you raise a brow at him, but stay quiet as he stalks into the bathroom. in the years that you've been together, you've learned better than to back an emotionally repressed sorcerer into a corner and force him to say how he's feeling. especially one who’s just gotten back from assignment.
you try and fail to return to the novel you were reading, staring blankly at the page until gojo steps out. his hair is damp, a towel slung low around his waist as he digs around in the closet for underwear.
there’s no pageantry, no winks or eyebrow waggles or light teasing of, like what you see? stuff that would usually make you roll your eyes, but that you suddenly realize has been missing lately.
okay, something is definitely wrong.
so you shut your book, placing it on the nightstand as he crawls into bed next to you. he says nothing, simply reaching across you to flick off your lamp and plunge the room into darkness.
it’s with a heavy sigh that he rests his head in your lap, grabbing your hand and plopping it into his hair before hugging your legs.
"i can't go to okinawa with you guys tomorrow.”
“satoru,” you can’t help but frown, carding your fingers through his hair. “we’ve been planning this trip for months.”
“i know, i’m sorry,” he says, strained. “you should just take the kids without me. take shoko, or something. megumi’s already stocked up on his spf, and tsumiki was really looking forward to picking seashells—”
“satoru,” you interrupt when you catch his voice break. “are you— are you okay?”
he’s crying, you realize when he doesn’t respond, instead pushing his head deeper into your lap, muttering, “no.”
“talk to me,” you murmur, smoothing your hand down his spine.
"i don't want the kids to think that i didn't want to go."
"you've been talking about seeing me in a bikini for weeks, i think they know how badly you wanted to go."
your comment pulls a small laugh out of him, but it's still interrupted by a sniffle.
"what's this really about?" you ask softly.
"i've been...missing things lately," he mutters quietly. "little league games, piano recitals, science fairs. i leave before they're awake, i get back when they're about to go to bed."
sorcerers who are referred to as 'the strongest' don't get days off. they go where they're needed, when they're needed.
"you know they don't hold any of that against you."
"i know," he says, sitting up to look at you. "but i don't want them - or you - to feel like i'm not choosing you. because i would, but i can't. and i'm just tired. of all of it--"
you wrap your arms around him when his voice breaks once more, pulling him into a hug. he reciprocates immediately, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he releases a shaky sigh.
"it's not just about being there for the big things," you murmur. "it's about...being there when they need you to be. i can't hit a baseball to save my life, so you're the one who takes them the park to practice. you're the one who taught tsumiki how to read sheet music, and found a way to explain the concept of infinity to a ten year old so he could win the science fair."
without him, there would be no little league games, piano recitals, or science fairs to attend.
"besides, we can always go on vacation some other time," you assure him, rubbing circles across his back. "it's not worth it if you're not with us."
_____
satoru wakes to the sound of muffled laughter. a quick glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand confirms that it's 7am.
the lack of warmth pressed into his side tells him you're up too. it's rare that anyone is awake before he is, especially on weekends or days that he's set to depart. he can hear bits of your conversation with the kids as he gets ready for the day, changing into his uniform and shoving clothes into a bag.
"what shape should i try to make?" he hears you ask. ah, you must be making pancakes.
"a heart!" tsumiki suggests.
"japan!" megumi argues.
he knows you're going to make both. you're doing so when he saunters onto the scene, humming along to whatever song tsumiki's put on the record player as you drop chocolate chips into the batter.
he sweeps your hair away from your neck, dipping his head down to press a kiss to the nape of your neck.
then he turns to the kids, who are in the process of setting the table. "did, uh, you guys already talk about okinawa?"
tsumiki nods, but megumi just shrugs, wrinkling his nose. "there are a lot of jellyfish there anyway."
he of course goes on to inform everyone of the different kinds of jellyfish and all the horrible ways they could kill you. tsumiki chimes in to say that they won't attack unless they're bothered.
you press a mug of coffee into his hand, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss to his cheek before joining the kids at the table with a plate of pancakes.
the scene that unfolds in front of him is a simple one, but one that he's dreamed of all his life. a family sitting together for a meal, laughing and chatting about things that don't really matter.
the world's always going to need him. but this? this is all he needs.
because gojo satoru wasn't made for domesticity, but for his family? he'll try.
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xhazzz · 1 month ago
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Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader
Bagman
warnings: none.
summary: the cute blonde pilot trying to get your number. and you’re Maverick’s daughter, btw.
a/n: hi to anyone who’s reading this, its my first post so i hope you like it. This might be the first part to a small serie about how you and hangman fall in love. Anyway, enjoy. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)
masterlist || request’s are open
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READER’S POV:
Being back home felt strange, like traveling back in time. I remembered how, when I was a kid, my dad and Uncle Goose would sit Bradley and me on the piano and play and sing for hours. Now, here I was, standing behind the bar helping Penny on a busy night.
The Hard Deck was packed—classic for a Friday night. The jukebox music blended with the chatter of the crowd. The place had been full of naval aviators for over an hour, most of them still in uniform, using it as a strategy to attract women. I recognized a few faces—besides Bradley’s—since I had snooped through my dad’s files on the pilots he’d be training.
“What do I have to do to get the pretty girl behind the bar to give me another round?” one of the pilots asked, leaning his elbow on the bar and placing his empty beer bottles in front of me.
“Maybe you just need to ask nicely,” I said with a smile, grabbing the bottles to swap them for fresh ones. His uniform tag read “Seresin”. He was one of my dad’s squadron members. I wouldn’t deny it—he was very attractive: blond, green eyes, and every bit the charming prince. “Here you go, handsome.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, taking the beers but staying put, leaning against the bar more comfortably. “And if I wanted your number, would I just have to ask nicely for that, too?”
“Is that the line you use on all the girls?” I teased, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You think I’m one of those guys?” he said, pretending to be offended as he took a sip of his beer, never breaking eye contact. “Ouch.”
“I know pilots. You all pretend to be charming and different from the rest,” I replied with a sigh, wiping the bar with a rag. “You think you’re irresistible and that every girl falls for you—even with a stupid mustache, like Rooster’s.”
He glanced over, laughing, and spotted Rooster playing pool with the other pilots.
“The problem is, you’ve only met Chicken. I’m way better than him,” he said, making me pause and lean on the bar in front of him. Bradley had already told me about him.
“You must be Bagman,” I said, laughing.
“Hangman, sweetheart,” he corrected instantly, winking. Okay, he was very attractive. “How do you know my callsign?”
“Oh, trust me, I know way more than you think,” I said, winking back before turning to serve some other guys who had come up to the bar for refills.
It took me about five minutes to serve everyone, and the whole time, I could feel his eyes on me as he sipped his beer, patiently waiting for me to finish.
“So, since you know who I am, maybe you could reconsider giving me your number,” he said, leaning closer from the other side of the bar.
“I don’t know. I don’t think you’re ready for it.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad walk in and head straight for the bar to take a seat.
“Hey, darlin’. You know my usual,” my dad said with a smile.
I started preparing his whiskey the way he liked it, aware that Hangman was still waiting at the bar.
“I think I’m more than ready. It’s not every day I meet a gorgeous girl like you,” Hangman said. “All I’m asking for is your number—or at least let me buy you a drink.”
I laughed, shaking my head. Poor guy had no idea what he was in for. I garnished my dad’s glass with a slice of lemon and set it in front of him.
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
“No problem, Dad,” I replied, turning to face the blond pilot with my arms crossed. He took a sip of his beer and nearly choked.
“Dad?” he asked, glancing between me and my father.
“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?” my dad asked, taking a sip of his drink.
“No, sir.”, he replied, pressing his lips together.
“Then you’d better keep your fake charm away from my daughter,” my dad added.
I burst out laughing and leaned over to swap out the pilot’s beer.
“I told you, you weren’t ready for my number,” I said with a smirk before walking away to serve someone else. After saying goodnight to my dad, Hangman finally moved over to the pool table where Rooster and the others were.
“Poor guy, Dad. You scared him,” I said, approaching my father.
“I don’t care. No one’s good enough for my little girl,” he said, rubbing my arm affectionately. “Besides, if he’s really interested, he’ll have to work for it.”
The rest of the night passed quietly, picking up glasses and serving drinks until Penny told me I could clock out. Every now and then, I caught the blond pilot glancing my way, and I couldn’t deny I felt a little disappointed when he backed off after realizing my dad would be his coach. Maybe he was a jerk, like Bradley said.
After saying goodbye to Penny and my dad, I grabbed my denim jacket and stepped out of the Hard Deck. My ears welcomed the silence after the noise inside. As I walked toward the street, I heard someone coming out behind me.
“Hey, wait,” Hangman called out. “Have you reconsidered giving me your number?”
“You never quit, do you?” I laughed, crossing my arms.
“Not when it comes to the prettiest girl in the bar,” he said, mimicking my stance and stepping closer.
“You don’t even know my name—and I don’t really know yours, either, Bagman.”
“Hangman. And it’s Jake,” he said, closing the distance between us and extending his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Jake,” I said, shaking his hand. Mine was noticeably smaller than his, but they fit perfectly.
“Now that we’re properly introduced…” he started, still holding my hand.
“If you figure out my name, maybe I’ll give you my number,” I teased, pulling my hand away. “Goodnight, Jake.”
I took a few steps away and glanced back at him. He stood there, shaking his head and laughing softly, hands on his hips.
“Hope you’re free tomorrow night, sweetheart,” he called out loud enough for me to hear as I walked away.
“We’ll see, Bagman,” I replied.
__________________________________________________________
JAKE’S POV:
“Give me 200 more, Hangman,” Maverick shouted with a grin on his face, standing in front of me. This man was enjoying himself.
“What’s up with you, man?” Fanboy asked after finishing his push-ups. “Is it because of that girl last night? The one who didn’t give you her number?”
“She’s not just any girl, dude,” I replied between sets. “She’s Mav’s daughter.”
“No way,” my friend said, laughing. “Maverick’s daughter is what’s got you so distracted today?”
“Shut your mouth,” I muttered, noticing Rooster laughing at me from a distance.
By the end of the day’s training, we were all in the locker room, peeling off our flight suits. While everyone else was chatting about who should buy drinks tonight, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not just because I didn’t get her number—though, to be honest, that didn’t happen to me often—but because she was truly stunning. I knew that the more I saw her behind the Hard Deck bar, the more she’d catch my attention.
“So, Hangman… last night you met Daddy’s little girl,” Rooster teased as he pulled on a clean T-shirt, followed by one of his ridiculous Hawaiian shirts. “Must be the first girl who didn’t fall at your feet.”
“Don’t start, Chicken,” I shot back, slamming my locker shut and leaning against it, arms crossed. “I’m sure that happens to you all the time.”
“You wish,” he said. “At least I can call her whenever I want.”
Rooster closed his locker and started walking out of the room.
“Don’t you dare, Bradshaw. I saw her first,” I said, following after him.
“God, how old are you? Eight? What is this, ‘I saw her first’?”
“Shut up, will you?” I sighed. “I can’t deny I’ve been thinking about her all day, and I don’t even know her name. But you, my friend, are going to help me.”
I threw an arm around his shoulders playfully, and he shrugged me off, pushing me away.
“So now we’re friends?” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “Y/N would never go for you anyway.”
“Y/N,” I repeated, biting the inside of my cheek with a grin. “Even her name is cute.”
“She’s not going to be one of your one-night stands, got it, Bagman?” Rooster said, walking toward the exit again.
“Come on, Bradshaw, I just want to take her out to dinner,” I said, trailing after him.
“Why don’t you ask Mav for her number? I’m sure he’d be thrilled to give it to you.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Chicken. I’ll buy you a drink too if that’s what you want.”
Bradley let out a laugh, raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll buy all my drinks this week, and I’ll give you her number,” he said, challenging me.
“You’re insane. I’m not paying for all your drinking this week.”
“Then I’ll call her and ask her out myself,” he said, pulling out the keys to his old Bronco and heading toward it.
Was it worth paying this idiot for Y/N’s number? Even knowing she might turn me down again—and that her dad would punish me in every damn training session? Screw it. I’d take the risk.
“Deal,” I said, catching up to him at his truck.
“What?” Rooster asked, incredulous.
“I’ll cover your tab this week, as long as you give me her number and stay out of my way, Chicken.”
The idiot just laughed, pulling out his phone and typing on it. Seconds later, I got a notification—he’d sent me her contact info.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Bagman,” he said, climbing into his truck. “And just so you know, I wasn’t planning on asking her out. She’s like a sister to me, you idiot.”
“You’re an asshole, Bradshaw,” I shouted as he drove off.
______________________________________________________
READER’S POV:
I had just gotten out of the shower when my phone started ringing. “Unknown number.”
“Hello?” I answered, putting it on speaker while wrapping myself in a towel.
“Hi, Y/N,” said a voice on the other end. It was the blonde pilot from the Hard Deck.
“How did you get my number, Bagman?”
“It’s Jake to you, sweetheart,” he said. Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew he had that stupid grin on his face. “So, are you finally going to let me take you to dinner?”
“Don’t you ever get tired?” I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.
“Not when it comes to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I laughed and stayed quiet for a few seconds.
“Pick me up in 30 minutes. I’ll send you the address,” I said, smiling.
“At your service, ma’am..” he replied, and I hung up.
It was just dinner with Hangman. What could possibly go wrong?
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lulunothulu · 5 months ago
Text
“What’s wrong, dear?”
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader
Summary: Jake knows something’s wrong so he makes it his life’s mission to 1. Make it better and 2. Find out what’s wrong.
Content: 18+ ONLY, sad boi hours, soft Jake, FLUFF, cuddling turned into cock warming, p in v sex, unprotected sex.
Masterlist here 💗🤠
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Jake had a pretty normal day at work. Nothing compared to the week before, but still pretty okay.
He’d just parked in the driveway, sighing as he finally sees his home. Y’all’s home.
Texas flag hanging proudly on a hook out front, white picket fence closing intruders out of y’all’s space.
The house itself wasn’t anything special, just a bungalow by the beach. What made it special was you. The warmth and light you brought in with just a smile could’ve lit the whole house.
That’s why when he enters the house and finds nothing but darkness and silence, he knows something’s wrong.
Kicking off his boots at the entryway, Jake looks around the house for any signs of you.
Your purse is on the table by the door, keys along with it. Your shoes, required for any Naval Medic, lined by his own boots. Your uniform shirt was neatly thrown on the couch a little walks away from the front door, pants in tow.
You were never home before he was, only on rare occasions so that didn’t throw him off. What threw him off was in the distance, Jake heard soft sniffles coming from your room.
Carefully, Jake padded toward the room, worry increasing deep in his chest.
“Darlin’?” He drawled, pushing the door to y’all’s bedroom open.
Curled up on the bed you lay, soft sniffles filling Jake’s ears.
Instantly, Jake is by your side. To hell with showering, you were all he needed to focus on.
“Baby?” He soothes your head, brushing your hair back and away from your face. Your face was splotchy, eyes rimmed red and lips puffy from crying.
“What’s wrong, dear?” he asks, patiently waiting for your sweet voice to respond.
But you don’t.
You just lay there, staring beyond you, eyes emotionless.
Fear began to creep into Jake’s mind. He knew you’d seen some things on your last deployment, but you never spoke of it. He could only imagine you were having another PTSD episode. The last one being a few months ago.
Wrapping his strong arms around your form, Jake nuzzles his face into your neck. “Darlin’, you gotta tell me what’s bothering you…please?”
Again, nothing.
Jake’s mind begins to race, he hated seeing you so low. He had to do something to make you feel better, but before he could even do that he had to figure out what was going on.
“Baby, is this about your deployment?” He asks softly.
You shake your head, no.
Jake sits up, looking down at you again. Life creeps back into your eyes but you’re still staring off beyond you.
Okay, so it wasn’t whatever happened during your deployment.
“Is it work?” He asks.
You sigh before croaking, “No.”
The sound of your voice was like music to his ears. He breathed a sigh of relief at that, thinking of his next best thing to ask.
“Are you just having a bad day?”
When you nod and hum a ‘mhmm’, Jake almost rejoices. He’d finally gotten an answer. Now to cheer you up.
“Tell me what happened today,” he half orders, half asks. “C’mon, talk to me baby.”
You turn to face him, finally resting those beautiful eyes on his sage green ones.
Jake wipes a tear that falls from your eyes, patiently waiting for your response.
He watches as you take a shaky breath before you finally spill.
“It started this morning,” you recounted.
——— This morning ———
You were already running late.
Your alarm hasn’t woken you up and while Jake’s alarms—yes plural alarms—usually do the trick for you, you were so tired from the day before, you barley felt when he kissed you goodbye.
By the time you were dressed and out the door, you were running ten minutes late.
You sprint into the hospital where you worked, smiling as your supervisor, Captain Holt, raised a bushy brow at you.
“You’re ten minutes late,” he states.
“I know, sir,” you say at attention. “My alarms didn’t go off.”
“Hmm,” he hums, looking you up and down. “Since you’re never late, I’ll let you off with a warning. But do not let it happen again, Lieutenant Seresin.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” You reply, saluting when he dismisses you and walking to your station.
You sigh, realizing your forgot coffee this morning so you go to the break room to grab a cup before you settle back into your station.
However, after you made a cup, you’re bumped into on the way back to your station. Coffee spills down the front of your uniform shirt as you mentally scream.
“Watch where you’re going,” you yell at whoever just bumped into you.
You turn around to see a Petty Officer with wide eyes stare back at you.
“I’m so sorry, Lieutenant!” She cries, standing at attention and saluting you. “There’s a trauma coming in and Lieutenant Briggs said to grab some—”
“It’s fine, just don’t let it happen again,” you tell her. “Wait, a trauma so early in the morning?”
“Yes, one of the Aviators had an accident,” she tells you. “It’s sounds really bad.”
The only thing you can think of is Jake. Your mind was whirling, praying to whatever God that’ll listen, begging for it not to be Jake.
“Was it a male or female?” You ask.
“Wha—”
“Answer the question!” You order.
“A f-female,” she tells you.
Heart starting to slow, you nod. “Alright, go ahead, Petty Officer…” you glance down at her name tag. “Vincent.”
You go back into the break room after she scurries away, grabbing the backup shirt you keep for times like this and choke down a sob.
It could’ve been Jake. But it wasn’t.
You take the deep breaths your therapist showed you how to do to calm yourself and wipe away any lingering tears before making another coffee and finally making it to your station.
Hours later, it’s three hours before the end of your shift when you respond to another trauma. This time a male who no one can recognize. In the back of your mind, you can hear yourself say, “It’s Jake this time. It’s Jake.”
After a few rounds of CPR, the aviator is pronounced dead, sending you into a panic. When a nurse tells you the name of the aviator though, you have to excuse yourself.
It wasn’t Jake, but it could’ve been him. God knows he’s got a cockiness to his flying ability.
You’d told him multiple times he has to fly safer. Especially after what happened with his last back seater. Even more after that last mission when he saved Pete and Bradley, you’d almost broken down in thanks that he came back home.
You knew the risks in being married to an Aviator, but with the things you saw at work and again on your deployment almost two years ago…you couldn’t help but think negatively every time a trauma came in.
“Seresin?” You hear your colleague, Lieutenant Casey, say. Her voice traveling to your ears in the quiet locker room.
You sniffle, wiping your eyes dry with the back of your palm. “Hey, sorry. I just needed some time to catch my breath.”
You look up at her from where you sit, knees to your chest.
“Hey, I talked to the Captain,” she starts, voice soft and soothing. “He said you can go home early. I’ll cover your patients.”
“Are you sure?” You ask feeling the tears threaten to reappear.
“Of course,” she tells you. She had lost her wife, an aviator, years ago and knew what it was like to worry. “You go home, meet your husband when he gets back.”
You thank her, hugging her tightly before grabbing your things and going home.
——— Now ———
“So I came home, and out your clothes on,” you tell Jake. “I wanted to be close to you.”
Jake’s heart ached for you. He couldn’t imagine what you were feeling and he mentally kicked himself in the balls for ever making you worry.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he tells you, smoothing your hair back. “I have been flying a bit more carefully now so you don’t worry so much.”
You smile up at him and he can feel the worry he once felt disappear in the instant your lips formed the smile.
“Good,” you hiccup.
“Is there anything I can do to do?” Jake asks, willing to do anything and everything to make things better for you today.
You scrunch you nose and sniff. “You can go shower before you stink up the bed and then come cuddle me.”
Jake laughs at that, kissing your forehead before whispering, “I’ll be right back.”
Jake showers, scrubbing the jet fuel and grime from the day off his body and sighing. He was glad you tips him what happened and why you were so upset. He couldn’t wait to get out of the shower to hold you in his arms.
While he couldn’t wait, he made sure to scrub himself clean twice…just in case.
Walking back into y’all’s room, Jake smiles when he sees you’ve taken off the sweats you were wearing—now only in his shirt and your underwear— and eyeing him with hungry eyes.
He quickly grabs a pair of boxer briefs, not bothering with a shirt before climbing into bed. He takes you into his arms, letting your leg fall onto his legs and wrap around one. You place a hand on his lightly hairy chest and sigh.
“What is it, Darlin’?” He asks.
“You’re not close enough,” you tell him.
Jake chuckles, as you nuzzle your face into his neck, feeling you breathe him in.
“What do you suppose you need?” he asks, knowing where this might lead.
“Can I lay on top of you?” You ask.
“You don’t even need to ask.” Jake pulls you onto him, your body warm and legs opening to straddle him.
Your head is on his chest, belly right on top of his semi hard-on. He places his hands on the small of your back, lightly rubbing circles with the tip of his fingers. Almost as he predicted, you scoot higher, face now in his hair by his ear—and you begin nibbling on his lobe.
He groans into your hair, sniffling the sweet scent of your shampoo and hands trailing down to your ass, squeezing softly. When he feels the warmness of your ever growing wet cunt, Jake has to remind himself that he’s meant to be making you feel better.
Sex shouldn’t be on his mind…but then you grind on him.
“Darlin’,” he starts, licking his lips. “What do you need? Use your words.”
You pull away from his ear, looking down at him with those sultry eyes you only use when you’re wanting to get your way.
“I want you inside me,” you tell him.
Jake’s heart—and dick—was pulsing. It’s taking everything in him not to just take you right then and there. But he was a gentleman—for the most part—and he needed to wait for further instructions.
“Anything you want, my love,” he replies.
“But…” And there was the catch. “I only want to warm your cock.”
Jake swallows, it’s been a while since you cock-warmed him. That turned into hardcore sex, but that was another day.
This was now, and you were in need of intimacy. There would be no fucking tonight.
At least, that’s what he told himself to keep calm.
Jake nods at you, watching as you crawl off him and remove the soft fabric from your hips so slowly, he thought you were moving in slow motion.
But no.
You were doing it on purpose. The little smirk on your face said it all.
Jake stripped the boxers off his body, his cock flinging from his enclosure and beckoning you closer.
Painfully, you slowly climb back onto the bed, Jake’s shirt still on and nipples pebbled. You straddle Jake’s hips, your warm cunt flush with his extremely hard erection, and lean down to kiss him for the first time since he got home.
The kiss is soft but passionate on its own—barely a whisper of a peck.
Jake is fighting for his life. It’s taking everything in him not to line himself to your entrance and pull you down onto him.
You’re being a good husband right now. Calm down.
Jake watches as you pull away, one hand on his chest the other grabbing his cock and guiding the tip into your pussy.
He groans when the tip of him is finally inside you, vowing not to move until—and if—you wanted him to.
You, in turn, look down at him. Pride and love radiating from those beautiful eyes of yours as you take the rest of his cock, sighing at the way he fills you up completely.
You lay back down on Jake’s chest, him wrapping his arms you again and tracing down your back to your plump ass.
He feels you clench around him and sucks in a breath.
“Are you okay, baby?” You ask, blinking up at him with innocent eyes.
“Mhmm,” Jake mutters. “Never better.”
Jake feels you smile into his chest as you kiss his collarbone and neck.
“What?” You tease. “Did I do something?”
You knew exactly what it was doing to him and he was loving it…for the most part.
Jake looks down at you, finding you already smiling up at him from behind your lashes as you place a kiss on his chest.
Jake’s body was burning, no, itching to move. He willed his hips to buck into you, to free him from your torment.
But he wouldn’t. Not until you gave him the okay.
“Did I,” you start, clenching around him again. “Do something?”
Jake groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head and bottom lip between his teeth.
“You know,” he starts, stopping to suck in another breath and groan when you clench again. “Exactly what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”
You smile up at him and he swears he can see pure mischief behind them.
This is what he got for marrying a woman who matched his freak.
You sit up, fully taking him again. He watches as you remove his shirt and toss it to the side of the bed, eyes solely on him.
You lean in, pulling Jake about halfway out, before kissing him.
Your lips were like heaven to him, sweet and pillow soft against his thin ones. Your bare chest pressed against his own, warming him up more than he already was.
When you begin to move your hips, Jake’s eyes to the back of head, soft moans escaping his lips and crashing into yours.
You smile, working your magic and hips you slowly allow him to enter and exit you.
“Does my cunt feel nice?” You ask against his lips and Jake nearly chokes.
“Fuck yes baby,” he responds, squeezing your ass.
You moan as his touch and buck your hips a bit faster, pure fire and pleasure erupting into Jake’s stomach.
“How much do you love me?” you ask him.
Good God, you were going to kill him with that sweet voice of yours.
“I love you so much,” Jake replies, squeezing your ass even harder.
“Good,” you smile. “Do you want to move?”
Jake only nods, eyes wide and on yours. He watches as you smile, slowing your pace and leaning in so close, he can feel your breath on his ear.
“Do you want permission to move, Aviator?”
God, yes. Jake nods.
You click your tongue, pulling him out completely. Jake whines, pushing down on your ass to press you on him again. But you keep away, his dick tickling your belly.
“Use your words,” you command.
Jake swallows, eyes squeezing before locking on yours again. Pure burning desire leaks out of them and he watches as you squirm under his dark gaze.
“Please let me fuck you,” he says, deep and loud, just how he knows you like it.
The look on your face tells him you’re about to sink back into him when you bite your bottom lip and smirk, nodding fiercely.
Jake moves to action, flipping you on your back and lining himself back up to your still soaking cunt. He smiles down at you, pushing only the tip into your tight entrance and watching your eyes widen in pleasure.
“Now it’s my turn,” he says darkly.
You smile up and him and Jake nearly combusts at the way your lashes flutter.
“Tell me how deep you want me,” he orders.
“All the way in baby,” you tell him.
“How deep is that?” He smirks.
You’re about to answer when he fills you completely, stretching you until his whole cock rests inside you. Your mouth opens, an O forming on your pretty lips.
“Good girl,” Jake starts, pumping into you slowly then faster when he feels you relax around him. “Taking my cock like such a good wife.”
Your moans fill the room, causing Jake to buck into you, tip to base. He knows he’s hitting the right spot when your eyes squeeze shut and you begin whispering his name.
“Keep those pretty eyes on me,” he orders, watching as your eyes fly open. “And say my name louder, scream it if you must.”
“Fuck,” you mutter.
“I don’t think that’s my name, Sweetheart.” Jake chuckles.
“Fuck Jake!” You moan.
“There it is. You sound so fucking pretty when you moan my name.”
As if on cue, you moan his name again, practically babbling and repeating it over and over again.
“Jake, Jake, Jake!” You moan, tits bouncing at the jolting Jake was putting them through.
“Are you close, my sweets?” He asks, rubbing his thumb against your clit and feeling your clench around him.
“I’m so fucking close,” you scream. “I’m gonna come!”
“No,” he orders. “You wait for me. Be a good girl and wait for me.”
You’re a mess beneath him, nails scraping his chest and legs, eyes wild and pleading to come.
He wouldn’t let you, not until he felt—
Jake’s vision began to blur, he was tasting stars at this point and he knew he was just about ready to burst.
“Now, baby! Come with me babygirl!” He orders.
With your eyes still on his, Jake feels you begin to spasm and orgasm, his coming along side yours.
You both ride the waves of your orgasm, breathing heavily and chests pounding.
Jake bucks his hips, spilling himself inside you before slowly stopping, forehead touching yours.
Kissing you deeply, he slowly pulls out of you hearing you groan against his lips.
He quickly pulls away, grabbing a washcloth before helping you clean yourself up and carrying you to the shower.
Jake washes you, carefully massaging your swollen cunt before rinsing you and washing himself quickly.
He wraps you in a towel, pay drying you the way you’d taught him years ago, and then drying himself as you watch from the counter.
Once he was dry, he dressed you in his favorite Texas Longhorns shirt and underwear before getting himself dressed and quickly changing the sheets.
He lays you in bed before climbing in himself, arms wrapping around your body again.
“Jake,” you whisper.
“Yes, my love?”
“I love you so much,” you tell him. “Thank you for making my day better.”
Jake smiles into your neck, kissing you lightly before responding, “I love you too, Y/N. And I’ll always be here to make your day better.”
He falls asleep to the sounds of your breathing and soft hums of delight and contentment.
Mission accomplished.
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