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mrs-elsie-barnes · 3 months ago

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The Great Bucky Bake Off | Bucky Barnes x Reader | One shot - 3.5k words

An Avengers retreat takes a turn for the better when Bucky decides to eat your pot brownies… all of the pot brownies.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content. Drinking, casual drug use, Avengers wearing onesies for reasons, very flirty Bucky, p in v & oral sex. Rated R for ridiculous.

A/N: Happy birthday, Bucky Barnes!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Okay, ‘fess up, who ate all my brownies?” You turned to stare down the rest of the team, admittedly a little slow on your feet already.

The scene in the living room could only be described as chaotic. When Tony suggested he fly the team out to his remote cabin for “rest, recuperation and team building”, you had been fully on board. You were even more on board when he had you buy everyone fluffy animal onesies and you’d signed yourself up to a lifetime of being obsessed with your job the day you received an email to source as much weed, alcohol and Asgardian liquor as possible. Being the Avengers PA certainly had its perks.

“Not me!” Steve admitted, far too quickly. “I didn’t eat them.” He shook his head, sending the dog ears on top of his onesie flopping about.

You narrowed your eyes, “Well, you sure know something.” He looked the picture of innocence until he pulled Sam into the conversation.

“Tell 'er Sam, we dunno nothin’ 'bout brownies."

"Nuthin’” Sam shook his head too, his beer sloshing dramatically in its glass and wetting his hand. “My wings!” He steadied the bottle and brushed the stray liquid from the soft Eagle wings that made up the arms of his outfit.

“Have you spoken to James?” Natasha asked, leaning next to you and swiping crumbs from the plate, the last of the joint you’d shared placed delicately between her fingers. Somehow she managed to make the black onesie look very stylish, the arms rolled up to the silvery spiderwebs embroidered on the elbows and shoulders.

“James? Bucky?"

Organising and taking part in retreats was your second favourite part of your job. Bucky took the top spot, miles ahead of everything else with his handsome, stubbled face and gruff but gentlemanly manner. Despite being part of the team for a while, he still kept to the background, staying out of the way and keeping quiet. He was always especially polite to you, holding the door and making sure you were included all the time, even if he never really stayed that long at Stark’s parties or Steve’s team building exercises.

Deep down you hoped it was because he saw you the same way you saw him, in your dreams, surrounded by little hearts.

But life just wasn’t that kind, and you took his friendship gladly if that was all he could give.

"Why would Bucky eat them, can he even get high?” You slid forwards, leaning on the counter and clutching the empty tray.

“Bambi!” The four of you whipped around, surprised. Bucky bounced into the room with an enthusiasm that Steve hadn’t seen for decades. He also had chocolate on his cheeks and crumbs all down his front making him instantly guilty. You looked down at your onesie, light brown and speckled like a deer with tiny antlers on the hood.

“Ha, yeah, like Bambi.” You giggled.

“And I’m Thumper!” He laughed back pulling the hood of his own pyjamas up and letting the long, grey, ears drop in front of his face.

“Because you punch people?” You were momentarily confused, your brain refusing to work and instead focusing on the too tight fabric around Bucky’s arms.

Behind you Sam coughed to cover his laughter and Natasha turned away, eyes full of mirth.

“No! Thumper in Bambi!"

"The girl rabbit?” Tony dropped down onto the huge sectional couch, surprisingly sober. Although you were sure that had more to do with promising Pepper to keep the cabin safe, rather than any personal choice.

“Thumper is a boy.” Bucky insisted, eyes never leaving yours, his smile boyish and relaxed.

“How would you know?” Sam scoffed, leaning over the back of the couch, positively gleeful when Steve whispered that Bambi was also a boy and they fell back laughing together.

“Because, Sam, I’ve seen Bambi."

"What?” Tony’s snort of derision didn’t go unnoticed, but you shot him a glare. This was possibly the most relaxed you’d ever seen Bucky, you wouldn’t be letting anyone, including your boss, spoil it.

“I saw Bambi, in 1942, when it first came out,” he said proudly.

“That’s right, I remember!” Steve jumped up, the Asgardian liquor cocktail that Natasha had rustled up earlier starting to take effect. “We went with your sisters, Rebecca cried when Bambi’s mom got shot and he was all alone."

"Don’t spoil it, Stevie.” Bucky chastised, turning back to you as quickly as possible, “Have you seen it? Do you want to see it? We could see it?”

You nodded but he ignored you, continuing to talk as he got closer and closer, backing you into the kitchen island where the empty brownie tray dropped with a clang.

"We can go, I’ll take you, Saturday, you can have as much popcorn and soda as you like.” His right hand swayed by his side, nudging closer to yours until your fingers touched. “What d'ya say?"

Every fibre of your being screamed yes, just as you’d internally jumped for joy whenever he came by your office or handed you a coffee. But those times you were sober, calm, collected. Now you were four drinks and half a joint deep, floating off into the clouds. Professional judgement be damned.

So you screamed "Yes!” outloud for once.

He beamed, throwing his arms around you and squeezing just a little too tight until you squeaked. “Good, gonna be my best girl, my Bambi and I’ll be Thumper, buy you lots of popcorn and - oh - you’re really soft.” His hands found the back of your hood, pulling it up to sit on top of your head, letting it fall into your eyes.

“Yeah it’s nice, right?”

“S’fluffy.” Bucky’s thumbs brushed over your lips and down your neck, just inside the hood for a moment, before finding your shoulders and arms, rubbing the fuzzy material until you felt static build on your skin. “You’re really cute, y’know,” he whispered. “My own little Bambi.”

“I know.” You giggled back, picking up the joint again so you’d had something to do with your hands other than grip the front of your own outfit.

“We didn’t smoke weed back in the day,” he said, conversationally, as if he didn’t have his hands in your pockets, pulling out your lighter and a lip balm.

“No?” You took a drag, blowing the smoke to the side politely.

“Did a lot of cocaine though, keep us awake on missions.”

“Jesus. That’s…intense.”

He nodded, watching your fingers against your lips, the little pout when you exhaled.

“Can I?”

“You ate a whole tray of brownies, Bucky, I don’t know if you should have anymore.” You extended your arm away from his grabby hands, hoping Natasha would come and take it away again, but to no avail. Instead, he lifted you onto the counter, pinned your leg down and followed the line of your arm to your outstretched hand. His lips brushed the backs of your fingers when he took the twist of paper into his lips. You waved him over and he held his breath as he returned to you, leaning in close and only exhaling when you pulled your hoods together, his nose against yours.

Instinctively you inhaled, the rush of smoke and the smell of Bucky was overwhelming. You giggled again, trapping him against you with an arm around his neck and your legs around his waist.

“Haven’t shotgunned since college.” You smiled, everything was so floaty and soft, fuzzy round the edges and so fucking warm. When did it get so warm?

“You know with your floppy ears you could be-” your laughter bubbled up, cutting you off, “you could- sorry - oh my god - you could be Bucks Bunny!"

Bucky did not seem to like that nickname as much as Thumper and told you so, pouting until you let him take another long drag.

Time seemed to slow down between Bucky’s words, his hands, the way your glass of wine felt in your hand and the texture of his onesie. They were a good idea, so soft, good for petting, and Bucky was petting you too. His right hand was burning hot, even through the thick material, the pads of his fingers were calloused and rough, but the palm was soft. His left hand was so rigid, making a whirring noise. When you put your cheek to the artificial bicep it ticked pleasantly and you smiled, sighing and closing your eyes so you could concentrate on the joined sounds of Bucky’s heart and his prosthesis. In turn, Bucky held you gently, his metal fingers gentle on your back where he kept you snuggled in tight beside him.

You were faintly aware of the ongoing chatter across the room, but it had faded away into background static. Your soul focus was on the way two of Bucky’s eyebrow hairs stuck out from the others, the little patch of grey forming in his stubble, the dark fleck of colour in his iris, the way his mouth looked saying your name. Oh shit, he’s saying your name, say something back!

“Uh huh, yeah, uhm - maybe?”

He tipped his head to the side, bunny ears flopping over too, and came closer again. His hands on your cheeks. “I’ll help you.” He leant forwards to rest his forehead against yours.

“What’ya doing?” You tried to look at your forehead too but your eyes seemed to stop when they got to your eyelashes. Annoying.

“Telling you what I’m thinking without saying it.”

“Oh, is it working?”

“You have to tell me that, silly!”

“I don’t think it’s working,” you whispered, loudly, and Natasha groaned from the sofa closest to the kitchen.

“These two are out, done, nothing more for them,” she declared, waving her glass of red wine.

A chorus of yes and agreed sounded from the remaining Avengers. Clint had already fallen asleep across one of the arm chairs, his beer dribbling onto his shirt from the neck of the bottle. Steve and Sam were deep in debate about the merits of Japanese whiskey over original scotch whisky and Tony was watching you both intently, his own glass of Glengoyne warming in his hand. The way the condensation formed under his fingers was fascinating, and you told Bucky as much, pulling him close to your cheek so you could get the same view.

“I concur, what did you do to my PA, Barnes?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a bad influence.”

“She’s not you PA, she’s our PA. So she’s ours to influence,” he returned, proudly.

Tony just continued to stare, pointedly, sipping his drink.

“What you gonna influence me to do, Buck?” You kicked your legs against the kitchen counter, a picture of innocence, and Tony laughed into his drink.

But Bucky looked at you very seriously, bent to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck, his leg between yours, muscular and firm despite the fluffy clothes.

“I’m gonna influence you to steal all of Stark’s M&Ms.” He tried to keep quiet but ended up choking out the end of his sentence around his own uncontrollable giggles.

“Oh my god, you know he has me take the red ones out, says they’re smug. I have so many red M&Ms in my flat.”

“Hey, that’s supposed to be a secret!”

“Wanna eat all the red ones I brought with me?”

Bucky helped you down from the counter and then across to the pantry where you’d stashed the huge bags of snacks and sweets when you first arrived. Despite Steve’s shouts of leaving some for everyone, you closed the door and sat down, ready to tuck in, wrappers and chocolate littering the floor while you dug about for your favourites. Bucky sat on the floor, encouraging you to sit between his legs, keeping his hands moving over the downy material of your onesie.

“Okay, Bambi, what’ve you got for me?”

Before you could even attempt to feed him anything, Steve wrenched the door open, hands on his hips. “I think you need to sleep this one off, not eat more chocolate,” he insisted, waving at you both to get back up.

“Nuh-uh, Steve, not leaving.” Bucky tightened his arms around your waist and nuzzled into the back of your neck. “You smell like cake,” he exclaimed, happily, ignoring Steve.

“Sam! Can you help me shift Bucky?!”

“What about me?” You pouted, holding Bucky’s hands around your waist.

“You need to go to bed as well.” Natasha extended her hand to yours in an effort to pull you off the floor, but Bucky’s grip was too strong.

Eventually, it took everyone to wrestle you away from Bucky and bundle you into your room. In the corridor, Bucky howled his anger, breaking out of his room to easily find you in yours.

“Bambi! There you are! Those awful hunters took you!” he cooed, squishing your cheeks again and kissing your pouty lips. Deep down your brain registered that this was your first kiss with him, that the man who had been consuming your thoughts for months was actually kissing you, willingly, and had broken a door so he could get close enough to do so.

“Buh-kee, it was just Nat and Tony,” you drawled, your lips moving gently against his, reluctant to pull away.

“I know, but I didn’t like it, wanna stay here with you.”

Natasha, who was still trying to wrestle you into bed, gave up. “If you two stay in here together, and stay out of trouble, I won’t say anything.” She pointed at you both, eyebrows slightly raised.

“Promise I’ll be good, Natty.” You fluttered your eyelashes at her dramatically, hoping to seem more trustworthy, but she just rolled her eyes. “Fine, stay here.”

And then you were alone.

You hesitated for a moment, watching the slow movement of Bucky’s face, fascinated by the way the muscles tightened minutely when he smiled.

“I’m going to kiss you again now,” he stated, so formal that you broke out into another fit of laughter which made you hiccup and grab for his chest to steady yourself.

He ignored you, bending his head and catching your lips with his, messy and rushed.

“You taste real nice, you know?” Bucky licked across your lips again, swallowing your giggles.

“You taste nice too, ate all my damn brownies.” With a long lick up his chocolate smeared cheek, you kissed him back, tangling your hands in his hair, trying to push the too hot, stuffy, fluffy, onesie off his shoulders.

Bucky shrugged, and sat back to push the material down to his hips. Your eyes followed the movements of his hands, the way each inch of muscle revealed itself and, suddenly, you were hungry again, lunging forwards to bury your face between his pecs. Starting at his sternum, you kissed further and further down, shoving him backwards so you could climb on top of him, nipping and kissing bruises in a slow trail towards the end of the zipper. With a twist of his wrist, his cock sprang free from its confines and you bent down to lick the pearlescent precum leaking from his tip.

“Fuck, Bambi.” He dropped his head back, one hand gripping the pillows and the other cupping the back of your head while you licked the head like an ice cream. “I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

You sat back on your heels, letting your fingers dance up and down his cock. “Feels soft,” you observed, thoughtfully, “Hard and soft at the same time, isn’t that funny?”

Bucky couldn’t reply, he just laid back, watching the woman he’d pined after for months finally touch him the way he’d dreamed. It seemed surreal to be here, in your bed, with your hands all over his body like you owned it. Well, he thought, you did own it, you just didn’t really understand that yet.

“I wanna touch you, too,” he insisted, “Can I?” His hands hovered over your clothes, so close to the zipper his fingertips brushed it when you breathed. You nodded and he lowered the metal slowly.

Everything seemed slow now, even his voice, mumbling against your skin when he kissed down your breasts and took your nipple into his mouth. When he bit down a little, you giggled, his fingers tickling your sides, until you were both laughing again, half in and half out of your onesies, brains full of cotton wool and lust and nerves.

“Hey, hey.” You tugged on his hair until he looked up, resting his cheek on your belly. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yes, I’m so good with secrets!” He crawled back over your body, lowering his face close to yours. “You can whisper it or you can do it telepathically.”

“I’m not telepathic, Bucky.”

“Sure, like this.” He dropped his forehead to yours. “I know all your secrets now.”

“No, you don’t!” You shoved him, but he didn’t move.

“I do!”

“Tell me then.”

His eyes roamed over your face, from your eyes to your lips as if he couldn’t help it. “You like me.”

“Everyone likes you, Buck, you just think they don’t.”

“No you like me, you want to step out with me, be my best girl.” He looked overjoyed to have revealed your secret before you could. “Am I right?”

“Don’t be mean to me, Barnes.”

“I’m not being mean, I read your mind.”

“You know what? Fuck off.” You shoved a second time, but he still didn’t move.

“Wanna read my mind? I’ll help.” His forehead met yours again, sweat beading along your hairline from the stress of being so clearly seen by the man you’d been fantasising about for months. Before you could protest that only he could read minds while high, he was kissing you again. Slow and steady, his tongue nudging your lips gently until you opened for him, throwing your arms around his neck and letting the feeling of petal soft kisses take over you.

He moved away only enough to take off his now too warm onesie, as well as your own, leaving you both naked and tangled together on the bed. He couldn’t get enough of touching you, he felt buoyant, happy in a way that he hadn’t for months, years, and he never wanted it to end. His fingers tingled when they touched you, though it was becoming harder and harder to stay in control.

“Bucky, I want you,” you managed to squeak out between kisses, fumbling awkwardly between you both, hoping he understood.

"I want you too.” He nodded, bumping your heads together.

You wriggled beneath him, guiding him between your legs until he was buried inside of you.

“Damn it, Bambi, you feel soft everywhere.” His wide eyed expression made you smile.

“You’re kinda soft too, Bucky.” This side of him was one you’d been dying to see, unguarded and playful.

He nuzzled your cheek and began to move, tentative at first and then faster. In your dreamy state, it was hard to know where you started and ended or how long you’d been locked together.

You moved as one, slow and steady, enjoying the feel of each other’s warm skin and chocolate sweet kisses, breaking every now and again to stare at each other in awe.

Bucky seemed to sense your approaching release before you did, speeding up when you fluttered around him, the erratic movement of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge of the bed until you both tumbled out. The pillows and sheets followed soon after, dropping on you in an avalanche of goose down and brushed cotton.

You both paused in shock, your giggles broken by your fall, but then he was pulling you back down on top of him and holding your hips steady.

“Bucky, I wanna - I gotta -” Your hand drifted between you again to touch your sensitive clit, just a little more pressure and you could feel your orgasm building. The tightness of your pleasure started between your legs and radiated out to your toes, making them curl against the sheepskin rug beneath you.

Bucky followed after you, unable to control himself from the onslaught of sensation your clenching heat provided.

You woke the next day in a tangle of limbs and bedding, your back sore from sleeping on the floor all night and your brain fuzzy. Beside you, still with a smear of chocolate on his cheek, Bucky continued to sleep.

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year ago

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Awful Things [TVA!Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Fresh off the interrogation, Loki is emboldened to make a move. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Heavy smut. Dom! Loki.Bondage, impact play. (w/c 2.8k)

You register your door pad beep through the clink of plates as you slide them into the sink. Strange, you think briefly. I didn’t think anyone else had the code.

Turning, you immediately collide with something hard and flat. But there was no mistaking the scent of him. “Loki!?” was all you could muster in shock, gripping the lip of your tiny kitchenette. “I brought you some pie,” he growls, punctuating the statement by tossing it to the counter beside you.

His bicep presses against your own, hard as rock through the thick jacket hanging open at his torso. Those eyes that you’d studied so often were darker now. Deeper, somehow.

Dangerous.

“Everything okay?” you squeak.

There’s an energy radiating from him, a heat that seems to charge the air. It hums like static. The intoxicating scent of him wafts from the open top of his shirt, tie askew like he’d yanked it loose on his way here.

You clench. “I just had a very...interesting experience” he rumbles, leaning towards you. His lips are an inch away from yours, tilting his chin upwards as he looms appraisingly. You realise you haven’t been breathing. “O...Oh?” you gasp, as he presses his body closer.

His chin lies nestled to his collarbone, the popped collar of his jacket framing hollowed cheekbones that flex as he breathes in and out through his nose. His trunk is so solid and flat you’d swear it was marble if you couldn’t feel the beat of his heart through his shirt.

“You don’t seem...yourself” you say cautiously, watching the ring of his pupils explode outward. You’re suddenly reminded of a wolf, stepping on a rabbit before it tears its neck out. “I’m feeling more myself than I have in a...long time,” he purrs darkly.

Loki trails a long finger down your cheek, curling at the angle of your jaw and tipping your chin up to face him. There is a calculated pause.

“And do you know what I want to do?” You shake your head, eyes wide like a virgin. Loki smirks, and it makes your pussy melt into your underwear. He leans closer, inhaling against your hairline. His crotch rubs against you, a low rasping sigh escaping his lips as the weight of his cock drags against the bare skin between your standard issue loungewear set.

“I’ll give you a clue,” he rasps lower and dirtier than you thought possible. “It’s not eating that pie.” His eyes narrow, and stay like that.

A curl has fallen down his forehead, black and slick and every bit as out of place as he is in your apartment. And yet – it belongs there.

The counter-top digs into your spine, Loki’s body crushing into your own with the mass of his towering form. You bring a hand to his chest, pressing lightly against the hot flesh you’ve longed for.

“What happened out there-?” you start, feeling desire slide between your thighs as he shakes his head with a chuckle. “Someone reminded me of past transgressions,” he mutters, fingers toying with the sides of your top.

They slide beneath it, his large hands making quick work of cupping your breasts. The rough wool of his jacket grazes your nipples, hard and ripe for his attentions. His eyelids flutter as the flesh moulds to his touch, heavy cock pulsing.

“They reminded me of some terrible...awful things I’d done,” he enunciates slowly. His eyes are alight with mischief, with seduction. Pure godhood is leaking from him like a vapour, saturating the air around you grown heavy with the humidity of sex.

“And it reminded me, of the terrible...awful things I wish to do to you.”

Your legs feel weak. And Loki can feel it too.

His hands slide quickly down your waist, casting the loose sweatpants you wear to the floor. You gasp, gripping the sides of his face and pulling him to you.

Whatever the reason, if this is your chance – you’re taking it.

In moments, his tongue jams into your mouth. It’s wild, unhinged- and for now, the notorious Loki Laufeyson is all you can feel. All you can breathe and taste – every sense alive with his urgency.

He seems to have known the curves of your body for a lifetime, dexterous fingers curling into the perfect dents as he hoists you into the air. Immediately your legs lock around his hips, the flat of his cock pressed against your eager, soaking cunt. “Want me to go easy on you, little thing?” he groans as he spins you round. “Now is your chance.” You decline between grunts as you force his face to yours, tugging at his slut-mussed curls. His chuckle vibrates against your teeth. “Good,” he utters quietly into your open mouth.

Suddenly a cool, flat surface presses against your back. You cast a glance to the side, checking that you are still in fact in your sparse TVA studio. A flicker of green licks the floor beneath Loki’s feet, magic recoiling to its master now that its work is done. A shudder runs down your spine, hips bucking into the thick of his cock still tight beneath the pants.

“A little...theatre, for your initiation.” he purrs smugly as he raises a hand above your head and smacks the newly placed wooden beam twice.

It runs from the ceiling to the floor at the end of your bed. Before you have a chance to process, Loki tosses you to the mattress.

“On your knees, face me.” You comply. The wetness between your thighs is unbearable now, every involuntary clench of your pussy sending pathetic shock-waves of desire rippling across your skin. “Take it off,” he rumbles as he lowers his chin again with a devastating glint. It flickers to the t-shirt.

You pull it over your head, casting it to the floor. Satisfied, Loki raises a hand, curling his fingers. You can feel invisible binds licking around your wrists, winding and whispering against the skin. He pulls the fist towards him with a flourish – and by doing so, you. Yanked forwards, your hands fly to either side of the beam. They meet in the middle, a low hum of magic sizzling as Loki watches on. He widens his legs, the fabric of his trousers creasing and straining beneath the mass of muscle beneath. The triangular stance makes a whine snake from your throat, and a small smile twitches the corner of his mouth.

“Right where I’ve wanted you, all this time,” he hums while his fingers work his belt-buckle with aching slowness.

“Fuck me, Loki” you gasp desperately, clenching around air. It’s all you’ve wanted since the first time you laid eyes on him, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine this. Loki chuckles mirthlessly, biting his lip. “Oh sweet one,” he coos darkly, “you know not what you ask.”

The leather slides from its holster with a rough hiss as you groan, resting your head against the beam. Anything. You would do anything.

Butterflies soar in your belly as the god loops the belt around one palm. With the other, he pops the button of his trousers, releasing his cock. The obscene bulge you had only fantasised of as you writhed beneath your bedsheets under the cover of darkness lies tantalisingly in the grasp of his hand, pumping slowly back and forth as his head tilts.

Your tongue flattens, already imagining choking on it as he takes his pleasure; saliva dripping in whoreish swathes down your jaw.

“How like you this?” he growls while clasping his hands behind his back with a ceremonial stiffen. He shifts his feet on the floor while you squirm against the post. It's too much to take in. A garbled moan is all you can manage as magic melts the thick jacket from his body, and then his shirt...and then his pants.

But the belt? That stays wound around one hand, the veins taut and thick and pulsing.

A thrill drops your stomach. You realise that before now, you had only ever met the shadow of Loki Laufeyson which stalked the halls of the TVA. A mirage, dulled by the weight of what he tried to suppress.

Now, somehow, he was free.

But there would be time for understanding later. Loki paced naked around the beam, unwinding the belt from his palm. The muscles in his ass tighten and relax with ever careful pace, cock bobbing with every measured step, muscles in his thighs clenching as he inspects his meal. He’s hungry, it seems. Thick valleys dip in the side of his waist, the ripple of thick shoulder muscle making your thighs tremble as you hold position. “I want to make love to you,” Loki pondered as if to himself. “I want to pleasure you beyond an inch of your sanity, until you are breathless putty begging for release from your amorous torment.” He spins pointedly to face you, gaze afire with an aura you’ve only seen in the archives. “But not tonight,” he says.

Your cheek presses against the beam with a whimper, pussy throbbing. Anything. He shakes the belt out with a dramatic flourish, looking at it and then to you with a jovial air of expectation. An eyebrow cocks. “Just one. For me” he purrs sweetly, undertones of velvet obsidian spicing the air between you. “Two,” you gasp as you squirm. Loki throws his head back in laughter, wild curls tickling down his shoulder-blades. He snaps back up, and with a single graceful bound he positions himself behind you on the bed. Large hands roam your body, biting kisses marking down your neck, your shoulders. There will be marks, you think. It is not a supposition, but a certainty.

He is everywhere at once, fingers trailing through your dripping sex while he utters the filthiest praises the timeline has ever known. The fact he desires you, is touching you – that simple act alone is almost too much to bear.

“I knew this day would come,” he whispers deviously as his lips and teeth make their procession down your spine, your hips, your ass. “An inevitability...perhaps” he groans before sucking the plump round of your ass with an obscene moan. A whizz cuts the air as the belt lays claim to the soft curve with no warning, impact sending your hips flush to the beam with a snap.

You cry out his name, the biting pain followed by the moist slather of his tongue against the tender skin. He bites down, catching only a sliver between his teeth. Groaning against his prize, Loki slips his digits through your sopping folds. “Good fucking girl,” he rasps wetly, thrumming your clit. Bucking against him, you try to slow time as his fingers go about their light work. It’s gentle. Too gentle.

“I knew we’d get along.” he smarms. You can feel his gluttonous smirk thick in the air.

He pulls away, the second smack of the belt coming down in the same precise location as the first.

You yelp, bracing against the beam while Loki moans behind you. He runs his palm across the skin, breathing heavily.

The god’s body presses against your own, flattening you against the pillar while you grunt his name into the wood. Condensation is forming on the grain, the heat making your eyes sting as keenly as your ass. Loki chuckles darkly. A menacing thud sounds to your right as the belt is thrown to the floor, immediately followed by the curl of his fingers around your hips. A sharp inhale sears the back of your throat, realising what is to come.

Your only regret, is that you can’t see his face as he squeezes his huge cock inside your heat with a guttural gasp of air. Another time, you think optimistically; all other thoughts leaving your body as Loki releases a ragged, choking splutter.

He’s settled on his knees, guiding your pussy down his iron manhood with devastating slowness. Your ass meets the expanse of his thighs, the softness of your curves against his animalism making you feel like you might break. And perhaps you would. He thrusts up with the precision of an executioner. Never in your most unhinged fantasies did you think being full of Loki's cock would feel this good. Make you feel this free. The fingers of one hand twist in your hair, tugging it back. If you crane far enough, you can just see the bow of his jawline flex, his chin pointed to the ceiling. The veins in his neck strain, Adam’s apple tight and static with the clench of his teeth. Every filthy, whoreish grunt from his throat is heaven.

The stick of your arousal coats him, every squelch as he fucks into you making your eyes roll back. Your arms ache, but the thrill rising in your blood as orgasm bubbles makes it peel into oblivion. “Who am I?” he growls, the tone seeping into the depth of your soul.

Words have left you, rattling around in a haze of pleasure and utter bemusement. Short gasps are all that come out, but Loki’s showmanship will not be thwarted. “Who am I?” he repeats ceremonially, bottoming out with a punishing thrust.

You yank against the invisible binds, clenching around the root of his cock as he drags it out with a thundering groan. Every vein, every ridge of his manhood makes your soul ignite. “Loki-” you pant, muffled by the squash of your cheek against the wooden beam. Another punishing thrust. If his fingertips weren’t digging so much into the dip of your hips, you were sure you’d hit the ceiling. “Who?” he spits.

You feel a spray of venom hit between your shoulder blades, the violent smoulder of his eyes piecing the top of your spine as he rails you like a bitch in heat. His fingers curl around the nape of your neck, massaging gently as the fire between your legs reaches critical levels. It’s not a threat, it’s incentive. Your lips part, climax threatening to undo you from the inside out. And somehow, you know what he wants.

“God of Mis-mischief – urgh-ah, Loki...Laufeyson, God of..fuck, Mischief”

You and he moan in unison, rising orgasm shuddering your bodies as Loki’s stomach folds flush against your back.

The force of his primal need settles on your neck from his breath, twitching cock tugging inside your desperate pussy with shallow thrusts as he comes undone with a thunder of your name. The force of his seed hits like a flood, spurting against your fluttering walls as you clamp around his girth. A mess of shuddering, juddering, raw flesh. He settles back on his calves, rocking you gently as he milks himself to completion.

All you can feel is the haze of his attention in your orgasm-addled state, hands massaging the spill of your sweat-damp breasts while blood thunders in your ears. You’re vaguely aware of him speaking. “Sorry can you repeat that?” you murmur, tilting you chin. He’s right there, soft lips capturing yours in a messy kiss. It hurts your neck, but fuck...is it worth it. “I said, I have to follow up on something,” he whispers conspiratorially.

His hand travels downwards, tucking between your legs before taking hold of the root of his cock still buried deep inside. You can feel it slide side-to-side, his fingers playing in the swell of hot cum from gathered there.

He brings the hand slowly upwards, scissoring his fingers. Strings of arousal glint in the low light as he hovers it in front of your mouth. Instinctually, you point out your tongue, leaning forwards to meet his fingers.

“Ah,” Loki breaths as you take both fingers between your lips, sucking gently; deep to the second knuckle. His hips pump up gently, hot breath misting your ear as he buries his face in your neck. “F-fuck, little thing…” he rasps, “-you’re even more than I thought you’d be.” Sliding his fingers from your mouth, he picks up the wisp of his train of thought. “This was more of a...flying visit.” he says. Your brow knits, trying in vain to tug your hands from the beam. “But I shan’t be long. Believe me, I would rather be here. But what can I say, I am much in demand.” The mattress shifts as Loki swings his legs over the bed, standing with a stretch. You watch the muscles in his back flex, every inch carved by the gods themselves. Naturally, you muse with a thrill as his freed cum drips lazily down your inner thighs. “Forgetting something?” you purr, enjoying the slant of Loki’s brows as he turns. Your smile fades as that look crawls over his face again. “Who am I?” he quips with a smirk. Magic rolls over his body. The trousers unfurl, followed by his shirt and tie – as fresh as ever. There is a rustle of leather as his belt rears from the floor, and with a decadent click of his fingers, it slithers around his waist; cinching in. The brown jacket appears folded over his forearm.

Your brow furrows, yanking at the invisible binds. “Loki-” you say. It’s a warning, not a statement.

“Who am I?” he repeats, arching a brow.

You roll your eyes, teeth gritting. “Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief.” Loki smiles. The type of smile you’ve seen in the corridors many times. The type of smile that usually precedes something which increases your workload. His gaze flickers from your face to the beam, hands still bound as he begins to pace backwards towards the door. He raises his palms in a gesture of feigned sympathy, a devious tug at one corner of his mouth betraying him.

“Always have been,” he smoulders, a wolfish grin spreading.

“Always will be.”

Tags (cont in comments) @lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @buttercupcookies-blog @mrs-illyrian-baby @ohboyanotherlokiblog

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x reader smut #loki fanfiction #loki #loki fanfic #loki x you #loki x you smut #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki series #loki gif #loki x yn #loki imagine #loki x yn smut #lokismut

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userchai · 8 months ago

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Mr. Mechanic - E.M.

wordcount- 1.5K

warnings: spitting, choking, p in v sex, older Eddie ((he’s 40 and reader is 29)) name calling, roughness, cum eating, they almost get caught, if any of this makes you uncomfortable please don’t read it and lemme know if I missed something and I’ll add it to the warnings! Do not read unless you’re eighteen or over, thank you! feedback welcome as always! ❤️ @voyeurmunson thanks for the help on this sweetheart!

“Y’know we don’t have very much time sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear, deep and full of lust. You moan quietly, biting your lip hard to keep yourself as quiet as possible as his hands run themselves down your torso and to the top of your jeans. “Just couldn’t help yourself could you, had to walk in here looking like absolute sin? Bet your daddy doesn’t like that very much does he?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes, pushing your ass back against him hard, feeling his hips dig into you, his obvious bulge pressing up against your ass. “Quit talking and get to it already Mr. Munson, before he catches us.” He shushes you quickly, wrapping one of his hands around your throat and pulling your head back so he can lean down close to you, you groan out as his brown eyes narrow at you. “That’s not how you fucking talk to me is it baby?” You shake your head ‘no’, earning a disappointed look from Eddie. “I thought I taught you better than this doll. You answer me with words.” He says harshly, quickly letting go of your throat to push your pants down hastily. You look down, watching your clothing hit the dirty shop’s flooring, ‘oh well I can wash those later’ your mind quickly focuses back on the older man behind you as you watch his thick fingers hook into the sides of the tiny thong you purposely wore just for him today. “Baby have I ever told you why your dad watches me so closely when you’re around?” You go to shake your head before remembering his rule, muttering out a quiet ‘no’ instead. “Your dad only watches me when you’re here, he knows I can’t keep my eyes off of you, and I think you like knowing that this is wrong. I could get fired for this, but I don’t care.” You fight back a smirk, you naturally knew the effect you had on Eddie, it was pretty obvious. Every time you made a trip to your dad’s car shop, Eddie was always following you around like a lost puppy. It was adorable to you, but your dad hated it. You wanted to talk back and tell him how he’s ’not slick’ but you didn’t get the chance, hearing his belt being buckled behind you sent your brain into overdrive, your legs shaking with anticipation as you bend further over the car, waiting for him to give you what you need. “Tell me baby, do you like showing up here, looking like a slut? Do you like making me so hard that I feel as if I could cum in my pants again like some virgin who can’t control themselves?” You bite your lip hard as his ringed hand slaps down onto your ass, before he’s digging his blunt nails into it, causing pleasure and pain to shoot its way through your body, your toes curling in your shoes as you do your best to answer him. He doesn’t give you very much time to reply before he’s pushing his boot in between your shaking legs, spreading them apart for him. Your body jolts as you feel something wet slide down from your ass to your pussy, shockwaves of pleasure course their way all through you as you realize that he just spit on you, ‘dirty old fucker.’ You thought, laughing slightly before the air feels as if it’s being punched out of you, he doesn’t even warm you up before he’s pushing the tip of his cock against you, muttering out about how you have the ‘prettiest pussy’ he’s ever seen. You clench your eyes tightly, the feeling of how big he is isn’t something you’re used to, his big hands are placed gently on your hips as he pushes in further and further, just when you think you can’t take much more he bottoms out inside of you, his hips pressed up snug against your ass as you clench around him. The intensity of how deep he is makes you feel like you could pass out, but it was the most delicious thing you’d ever felt. Your eyes threaten to roll to the back of your head as he pushes you down flat against the car in front of you, he places his hand right in the middle of your back, holding you down as you squirm beneath him, he thrusts once, twice, before he’s picking up the pace, Eddie Munson is anything but gentle when it comes to fucking, and you were finding that out.

You moan loudly, trying to find a place to grip on the car but it’s too slick, your hands sliding down it pathetically as you cry and drool all over the hood. “Oh baby, you look so pathetic, look at you making a mess on my customer's car. You’re cleaning that up when we’re done here.” He laughs, pushing in even deeper as his other hand digs into your hip, it’ll cause a bruise later but you’d welcome the reminder of being taken apart by him like this. “Dirty old man.” You spit out rolling your eyes no, as he fucks you harder than you’ve ever been fucked in your life, tears well up in your eyes as he slaps your ass again. “Sorry, what’s that? Oh wait, look who’s the one getting fucked by the ‘dirty old man’ awww sweetheart you really wounded me.” You clench around him again, your brain fuzzy and floating as your orgasm approaches. “Fuck… Eddie please…” you moan, pushing up a little to look back at him. He was a sight to be seen, the bun that he was sporting earlier in the day was gone, his crazy curls were everywhere, framing around his face beautifully. He’d pulled his shirt up enough for you to be able to see his stomach flexing every time he slid back into you, you wanted to run your tongue all over him and never stop. “Please what?” He pouts at you, laughing sadistically as you push back against him, asking for more. “W-wanna cum, please let me cum, can’t hold it anymore.” You cry out, not even waiting for him to allow you before your orgasm comes crashing down, Eddie moans out behind you, keeping his grip on you and grinding his hips against you slowly, letting you ride out the waves of pleasure making their way through you. You slump against the car lazily, your breathing slowing down some as you sigh. “You’re precious, get up and get your ass on that car, right now.” The assertiveness in his tone is all the motivation you need as you sit up quickly, pushing your pants off the rest of the way and spinning yourself around, sitting down on the car before scooting back on it and spreading your legs. “Keep them open for me sweetheart, gonna cum all over your pretty pussy.” You look up at him, his eyes black with lust as he strokes himself in front of you. You wanted to suck him off but there was no time to, ‘maybe another day’, you think as he tenses up in front of you. “C'mon Mr. Munson, give it to me.” The most beautiful sound comes out of his mouth as you lay back in front of him, he strokes one more time before he’s cumming all over your pussy, some of it is hitting the car beneath you, it’s an absolute mess, but so hot. You look up at him and smirk before pulling him down into a kiss, it’s filthy and full of want. As soon as you go to speak you hear the door rattle on the other side of the room. “Oh shit… my dad!” You whisper, trying to get off the car as quickly as you can while Eddie pulls his clothes back up. “No wait, get over there and clean up the car. I can’t have him see that.” He says, staring directly at you. “How am I supposed to do that Eddie?!” He laughs quietly, and points to your mouth, you don’t have time to think as you hear keys being put into the door, you quickly drop down and pick up all of his cum off of the hood, before standing back up, grabbing your pants and getting them up as fast as you can before turning to Eddie again for a moment. “Show me.” He whispers, grabbing onto your chin and tilting your face up towards him. You stick your tongue out proudly, before swallowing and leaning up to kiss him sweetly. “Get to work Mr. Munson, I'll see you some other time.” You whisper smiling at him before sneaking out the back door, just in time to hear your dad come into the shop. “There you are Eddie! I’ve got another job for you, but do you want to go grab some lunch first?” You hear him say as you laugh, walking back down the street towards your car.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #older eddie munson #older eddie #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem smut

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tteokdoroki · 9 months ago

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⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. the damage is done.

about. when satoru decides that he wants you (his ex) back, his foolproof plan starts off by making your new partner extremely insecure..

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, non canon, toxic relationships, love bombing, exes to lovers, gaslighting, infidelity, cheating, breeding, fingering, multiple orgasms, couch sex, oral sex ( f! receiving ), unprotected sex, ex boyfriend!gojo, fem!reader.

ex!gojo who slides into the dms of your current partner to slowly make them insecure.

he acts like a nice guy, offers advice on what to do when you’re mad, what you like to eat, how to keep you all sedated and happy. your current partner starts to gush about how cool of a dude satoru gojo is. how could you pass up on such an amazing guy? he’s rich, funny, caring — they can see how you fell for him.

but what they don’t understand is the greedy side of satoru — the one who one who wanted you all to himself. the guy who never let you go out, who made you cry but made you cum with the promise of never hurting your feelings again.

sometimes the advice gets a little too specific. how does satoru know where you keep your sex toys for kinky nights of fun. why does he know the spot that makes you arch your back off of the sweaty sheets just like that? or how many fingers you like to take? or how long it takes before you start gagging on cock.

it makes your new partner insecure, gives them performance anxiety and ruins the vibes of your bedroom. they can’t communicate with you, at least not properly — it leads to fights that are all too familiar. conversations you’ve had with satoru before. your little insecurities and biggest fears are thrown into your face, things they know will hurt you deep down you. these are some of the first times you cry because of your new partner.

it’s all too familiar, these are things you’ve gone through before with your ex — the recognisable twinge in your chest and feeling of guilt after being gaslight is something you know all too well.

“he was right, you really are just a cry baby.” they say. “since he knows so much about you, maybe you should go back to fucking him.” which feels like a bullet to your heart because you’ve spent so much time proving to your partner that you’re over your ex and all the bullshit that satoru put you through. all the drama and all the trauma he left you with.

your partner leaves for the night, leaving you alone with your tears and the tiny voice in the back of your mind that tells you it’s all satoru’s fault. it goads you into calling him, his number which you blocked but kept written down in your notes app in case of emergency. it’s been forever since you last spoke to your ex and told him you wanted nothing to do with him — so you’re surprised when he picks up on the second ring, seemingly happy to hear your voice.

“what did you do, satoru?” his name on your tongue is foreign yet also familiar. you’ve said it a million times before, in many different ways (lust, love and loss) but this time you’re angry. like the last time you spoke.

“what do you mean?”

he plays coy and you feel your temper bubble. “we got into a fight, i know it’s your fault. what did you say to them?”

“shouldn’t you be making up with them?” gojo answers your question with a question, his all-knowing smirk transcending down the static on the line. “why was your first thought to call me?”

that makes you falter, stops your typhoon of rage in its place.

the truth is, you know why you called. deep down you know that gojo could fix this, when you fought as a couple you would always call him first and in tears — letting him calm you down. gaslighting you in the process. he always knew what to say to scab over the wounds of your arguments, patching over deep cuts with little white lies even if he would reopen them and leave mental scars in place.

when you fight with your partner now, you seek the same sort of unhealthy comfort in the only person who you know will give it you and that’s exactly what satoru wants.

“let me come over,” he states, suave. “let me help you fix this.” he takes advantage of your emotional torment, butters you up with the promise of comforting you and against your better judgement — you let him. your partner abandoned you, satoru wants to help you. you’ve always known that he still loved you, at least he wouldn’t leave, at least he’s not like your partner.

regret will come in the morning, you think, when you let satoru into your apartment and back into your life. he knows that everything on the walls are different, the picture frames are now brown instead of white and hold photos of your current life in place of what you had with your ex. the furniture has moved and the diffuser at the entryway smells different. but as much as you’ve tried, you can’t get rid of your ex, satoru gojo. he will always make his way back to you.

he makes sure that you’re aware of this when he kisses you on the couch that you kept from your previous relationship. satoru tells you that you’ll always need him when he pins your hips to its leather with a strong arm and buries his white head of hair between your warm, thick thighs. he proves it to you with the way that his tongue licks broad strokes against the entire length of your sex and flicks at your clit because he knows that how you like you it, he knows you’ll cum in seconds if he eats you out like that.

there’s going to be a stain in the couch from just how much more you gush on satoru’s skilled fingers and tongue, as he moans against your sopping mound and tells you how he’s the only one who could ever make you see stars this way. his face gleams with your arousal and his eyes sparkle knowingly because it’s true. you’ve never felt as good as you have with satoru in comparison to anyone else. it puts doubt in your mind, makes you question why you even left him in the first place.

though, you don’t have much time to dwell on the thought…because in hurried yet precise movements — gojo is making you cum on his fingers again. the rough pad of his thumb possessively writes the letters of his name against your pulsating clit — hardened by blood that rushes to it, carrying lustful hormones from your frenzied mind. he loves how you taste when you cum, how you cling to him, how he knows that you’ll never forget this phenomenalfeeling after tonight.

it’s a little too intimate for two exes when satoru makes you ride him. his legs spread wide while you straddle his lap, creating the perfect angle for his cock to nudge against that one special pleasure spot inside of you. you’ve missed his cock, it’s perfect length and thickness — it’s pretty pink tip that oozes so much precum that’s all for you. it’s only ever been for you.

the way satoru’s large palms cup the globes of your ass and guide you back and forth over his lap unlocks a nostalgic and loving feeling in your rapidly rising and falling chest. he kisses you with so much passion that you’re reminded of the good nights you spent with him — making love until sunrise while his tongue rolls over yours and licks at your teeth. you’re naked and chest to chest, noses becoming neighbours while the course of your breathing syncs up. it’s overwhelming, how adored you feel in the moment, all while fucking your ex on the couch.

you grope at each other like it’ll be the final time you ever have sex like this. your hands settle at the base of satoru’s neck and his on your waist while you languidly move together in a salacious dance routine you’ve done so many times before. you’re perfect partners, it’s evident in the way you reward his throbbing cock with dribbles of your creamy arousal — droplets of soft white running down and catching on veins on his shaft.

“i’m always going to love you, baby,” satoru’s soft laments echo through the home you’ve made with your over lover — barely audible over his balls slapping against your peachy ass and your cunt selfishly squeezing down on him, squelching with every thrust. “i’m always gonna want you like this, even when we fuck up. e-even when we’re not together,” he growls and rambles, blissful blue eyes darting all over your face twisted with ecstasy and right down to where you paint him with arousal and suck him in so well. “fuuuck, i wanna cum…s-say you want it, say you want me.”

it’s overwhelming, how much love you have for satoru. for your ex. it washes over your feelings of guilt in regard to your infidelity, any bad emotion or thought of your partner cannot compare to the burning and bright lust that flickers in your tummy. when you fuck yourself down on gojo’s throbbing girth he pulls back out of your snug, salacious sex — creating a delicious cycle of friction that you never want to forget. that you miss so bad.

“i want…i want you!” you stutter, tears brewing in your starry eyes. “i miss you, i love you,” the words rush out of you before your hazy mind can even catch up and register them. you barely manage to register that you’re fucking your ex just mere hours after arguing with your special one. it doesn’t matter, not right now and not in this moment. not when satoru teases your clit until you’re able to cum all over him, painting his thighs with your slick as you slump against him.

even though he shouldn’t, even though he’s ruined your relationship, gojo cums inside your quivering cunt. fills you to the brim with his viscous, scorching seed and there’s so much of it that it seeps from your entrance — pooling okto the couch below.

“i love you.”

“i know.”

“come back to me, baby.”

“i…i don’t know if i can…”

you want to so badly, especially the damage is done, sealed by stolen kisses that’ll mean nothing in the morning.

satoru’s gotten what he wanted, to make you question your relationship and remind you of why you should come back to him. you fell asleep an intertwined mess on the couch and he leaves in the early hours of the next day.

all so that your current partner will never know the events that occurred on the night of your fight — you don’t have to heart to tell them when they come back the next morning with your favourite flowers and an apology. they shouldn’t have left you. they shouldn’t have gone to satoru behind your back. they love you.

but it’s already too late, a seed of doubt has been planted in your mind by your ex. you release that you still want him, that you might even miss him and the foundation of your new relationship becomes shaky and unstable.

you’ve grown insecure and you will always be comparing your current partner to your last partner. to gojo.

and your lover? now they’re insecure too, because you’re always so distant and you always smell a little different when you come home these days.

because you’ve started going behind their back to be with your ex, satoru, too.

#tteokdoroki #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk thirsts #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing

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ratskinsuit · 9 months ago

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•𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭•

Hazbin Hotel Lucifer Morningstar x gn!Reader

———————————————————————

“Lucifer has been very stressed lately due to all of the work being piled onto him, the things going on in heaven, and Charlie’s hotel idea. So as his loving partner, you decide to help him destress a little bit in a very fun way.”

Tags: Smut, Oral sex, Lucifers little whimpers, exhibitionism? , Dom!Reader (Kind of), Sub!Lucifer, x Reader, Office blow jobs

MDNI

(Please enjoy this fanfic, it may not be the best because I haven’t written smut before, criticism is welcome.)

———————————————————————

You have noticed that recently your husband, Lucifer, has been more stressed than usual. He has been neglecting his needs, locking himself in his room and burying himself in his work. He hasn’t been eating as much and he has bags under his eyes. You rarely see him out of his office, never seeing him at any meals.

So you decided that you would go and try to convince him to take a break. You made him some tea and something for him to eat, a grilled cheese, some warm tomato soup, and some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. After gathering all of the food on a tray, you head off to his office. Once you reach the office you put the tray in one hand and knock on the door three times.

“Come in.” You hear his tired voice say from the other side of the door.

You grasp the door knob and with a hum push it open and step inside, closing the door behind you.

At his desk Lucifer looks wrecked. He is sitting in his dress pants and a dress shirt, wrinkled and messed up, his sleeves pulled up to his biceps. His face furrowed in concentration, his eyes slightly bloodshot, with bags under his eyes. One of his hands is in his hands in his hair, gripping it tightly between his fingers in frustration, his bling licks messy.

He looks up as you enter and smiles tiredly. “Ah hello my love, do you need something?” He asks, sitting up straighter and trying to fix his shirt to not worry you.

You hum and bring over the tray setting it on his desk. “Well I know how stressed you have been lately, so I brought you some lunch and tea.” You say, setting his food out for him.

He gives you another smile, hey this time Warmer. “Oh thank you so much hunny, I completely forgot about eating.” He says, taking a sip from the tea and sighing.

You smile at him, and go behind the desk, stroking his hair with one hand, and the other rests in his shoulder, his face softening as you play with his messy locks, a most comfortable look now on his face.

“You really should take a break you know, all this stress isn’t good for you.” You say, and in response he lets out another sigh. “Well I can’t just take a break whenever I want, I mean I have duties hunny, I can’t just abandon them.”

“Are you sure? Not even just a tiny break?” You try to reason, your hand continuously petting his hair, and the other massaging his shoulder, trying to convince him. It seems to be working a bit, as he relaxes into the chair his eyes half lidded, yet his stubbornness still prominent.

“I don’t know…” He murmurs, rolling his arms as you massage them.

You pout, taking your hands off of him, causing him to whine a bit. You think for a moment, before an idea comes to you, a mischievous smirk making its way onto your face.

He notices it immediately and gives you a questioning look. “What are you thinking about hun?”

”Well how about I give you a little stress reliever while you work, hm?” You say, and before he can say anything getting on your knees and crawling under the desk.

“W-wait hunny what are you doing..? We can’t do this, s-someone might walk in, and- and I have to…” He trails off with a whimper as you begin to unzip his pants.

“Just keep quiet and keep doing your work and nobody will know.” You say with a wink, as you take out his red, already leaking cock.

He stares down at you before resting his arms on his desk, and whimpering, already breathing noticeably harder, even though you haven’t even touched him yet.

You stroke him a couple couple times. “Go on handsome, keep doing your work.” You say teasingly, and he whines a bit, grabbing his pen and trying to resume reading and signing.

You move your head closer to the head of his throbbing member, giving him a few kitten licks causing him to jolt,

“D-dear I don’t think I can do m… my work like this…” He say quietly, looking at you with a pleasing look on his face.

You ignore it, giving him a quick smirk as you begin to lick all around the shaft, starting from the base and moving up, earning you a groan from the man above.

You suck on the tip, swirling it around in your mouth with your tongue.

“F-..fuck darling ple- agh.. please stop teasing me…” Lucifer whimpers, squirming in his seat, panting harder now.

You continue to ignore it, your your tongue pressing against the slit, a loud moan rumbling above you.

You glance up to see your husband looking worse than before, his cheeks red, eyes watery, and hair somehow even worse than before. “My lah… love please…” He begs, more tears welling up in his eyes.

You decide to give him a break, and slowly start taking him into your mouth, going deeper down his shaft as he lets out a moan.

“Oh h-hell please p-p-lease oh agh… hng…” He moans, and squirms, obviously very pent up. He tries to thrust up into your mouth but you place my hands in his thighs, digging your nails into them, pulling an unhappy whine.

Once you reach the base you begin bobbing up and down, your tongue massaging his shaft.

“Oh h-hu- d-darling… please, I- Hng… I… hah.. fuck.. please..” Lucifer squirms and and moans loudly above you, one hand tangled in his hair, the other on the desk, breathing heavily, his eyes closed in pleasure, cheeks flushed.

With one of your hands you massage the inside of his thigh, causing him to get louder. “Please, I want- darling- m-mmm, nhg… please.. wanna, I need to- fuck…gonna- g’nna c-“ He babbles above you, barely able to make sentences, yet you can tell his close.

While you desperately want to tease him you decide against it, knowing he would probably break down with how stressed he already is.

You begin to suck and bob faster, you husband whining and pleading above you, you determainef to make his reach his peak.

“W-a- agh.. c-come.. fuck, gonna HNG, d-arling oh s-sa- Ang..” A few moment later mr moans out and releases, you swallow it all down, riding him through his orgasm until he is overstimulated and trying to get away.

You release him with a pop, standing up and wiping your mouth. Lucifer looks 10x worse than before, his hair sweaty and sticking out in all different ways, his face flushed red, his eyes half lidded and teary, still shaking from the aftershocks.

Despite this you give him a kiss on the forehead and a pat on the head. “I expect to see you at dinner tonight.” You say, before leaving.

———————————————————————

Well there is my first ever smut fic, and first fic in years! Criticism is accepted. Hope you enjoyed!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

#hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #smut #tw:smut #he is such a bottom lmao #lucifer mange x reader #lucifer Morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer magne x reader smut #lucifer Morningstar x reader smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader smut #hazbin hotel x reader #poor bby so stressed

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roosterforme · 21 days ago

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Aim for the Sky Part 25 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The arrival of your parents in San Diego means a break for you and Bradley. But when the time comes for you to leave Rose safe and sound at home with them, it's a bit of a struggle. Your weekend away in La Jolla gets off to an explicit start before you realize you forgot something important.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, oral sex, exhibitionism, DILF Roo

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You could see the exhaustion on your parents' faces as Bradley carried their bags upstairs after everyone finished eating his extended birthday dinner. They were used to being on east coast time, and they would probably end up in bed for the night the same time Rose did.

"Why don't you two let me feed her and get her ready for bed while you head up?"

They both gave you looks of annoyance as your mom held the baby on the couch next to your dad. "We're here to spend time with our granddaughter and give you and Bradley a break," your dad promised.

"I know," you told them as your husband came back downstairs. "But we're not leaving for La Jolla until Thursday morning."

You watched as Rose wrapped her tiny fingers around your mom's thumb as her eyes fluttered closed. "There's no way you're going to be able to get me to hand her over right now. Look at her. She's comfortable, and she's definitely not hungry again yet." She glanced between you and Bradley. "Can't you think of something to keep yourselves busy until Rosie's bedtime?"

"I can think of several things that would keep us busy," Bradley murmured as his hand rested on your lower back before sliding down to your ass.

You glared at him, silently begging for him to not embarrass you in front of your parents. Besides, you were still sore, and he knew that was only for special occasions.

"Just go relax," your dad whispered, hand gentle on Rose's fuzzy hair. "You can feed her when she's hungry."

Bradley's lips grazed your ear as he whispered, "Feel like taking a bath with me?"

"Always," you replied with a yawn. "I'm tired of arguing with them when they just want to play with the baby," you told him as you and he walked through your bedroom and into the bathroom.

When Bradley started the water and pulled his shirt over his head, you had to bite your lip. "They just missed the Nugget," he said casually while his biceps and abs flexed effortlessly as he unbuckled his belt. Your mouth went dry as you watched his jeans slide down his legs before he stepped out of them. "Can you blame them, Baby Girl? We have the cutest kid in the world, all thanks to you. She's perfect like you are."

But you didn't feel that way most of the time. You felt lumpy and weird, especially when you had to get undressed in front of him while you still felt full from dinner. "I think she looks like you more than me," you whispered. You quickly ditching your clothes and got in the tub, curling your knees against yourself beneath the water.

Bradley eased his big body down with a sigh, pulling you against him until you uncurled. His lips ran across your face as he murmured, "She's got this pretty curve to her cheeks just like you do. I would know. I've studied it extensively."

You were helpless to do anything but snuggle against him when he said something that sweet. "Bradley," you whined as he held you tighter. You were tired from celebrating his birthday and trying to pump a supply of breast milk that Rose would have available while you were away. When his fingers brushed your breast, you closed your eyes. You wanted to, but you were stifling another yawn.

"I can't wait to be alone with you. Like really alone. We can order room service and take naps," he whispered. "And when you start to feel full, your tits are all mine for three days. No sharing."

"Oh," you gasped. "I hadn't thought of that. I was going to pack my pump."

Bradley chuckled. "Pack it. But I doubt you'll need it, Sweetheart. Let's get in bed soon. We have work tomorrow."

----------------------------

It was strange leaving Rose home with your parents instead of packing her up in the Bronco each morning. It was also wild when Bradley went into the nursery each time Rose cried only to find that one of your parents always beat him to it.

"When are your parents moving to San Diego?" he asked you on Wednesday evening while the two of you were enjoying a quiet dinner together on the patio while they dealt with a diaper blowout inside the house.

"My mom wants to list their house now." You were looking at him very seriously. "Like I don't think she's kidding. Are you sure you want them so close?"

Bradley nodded as his thoughts started to drift. He had almost no family of his own for his daughter to grow up with. No grandparents. No aunts. No uncles. Brenda was great, and she sent some gifts in the mail, but she was back in Virginia with the rest of his relatives. All he had to offer Rose was his decade and a half long friendship with Natasha, which was nothing to scoff at. She already stopped by this week for a few minutes to see her goddaughter and read her a book.

"Yeah," Bradley finally said. "I want them that close."

"They'll be a handful," you warned. "You know how my mom gets around the holidays."

Bradley set his silverware down. "Sweetheart, I've got nothing to offer Rose."

"What?" you asked, looking at him like he had two heads.

"I've got no family," he said softly. "Her only knowledge of my parents will be the things I tell her about. Carole and Goose will be like legends to her. Hell, I barely remember my own dad enough to tell her much." You reached for his hand and gave his fingers a squeeze as he said, "If she has the opportunity to grow up around your parents, I think that's important. Even if your mom turns into a control freak around the holidays."

You laughed and scooted your chair a little closer to him. "Just as long as you understand what you're getting into, Roo. And anytime you feel like telling a legendary story about your mom or your dad, Rosie and I are both all ears."

Bradley sent you in to finish packing to leave for La Jolla while he cleaned up. Rose's little giggles erupted from the nursery, and he could picture your dad tickling her belly. Thank goodness they were willing to stay here for the rest of the week, because Bradley desperately wanted to get you completely alone again like the babymoon in Mexico.

However, when it was actually time to leave on Thursday, you had tears in your eyes, and he wasn't too far off himself.

"I didn't think it would be this hard," you whispered, holding Rose in your arms in the nursery with Bradley's chin resting on your shoulder. "Why can't we take her with us?"

He kissed the side of your neck before reaching for the baby, wanting a snuggle of his own. "Because I think it's important to have some time to ourselves," he replied, pressing his nose to her soft skin and inhaling deeply. He was actually so in love with his daughter, and he didn't care if you saw him cry, but he also didn't want to cancel the hotel reservation or take Rose along. "And I know your parents will have fun on their own with her."

"You're right," you said, swiping at your cheeks. "The three of them will have so much fun, and we can FaceTime with her later tonight. Plus, I already put all that pink champagne in the blue Bronco."

The vivid image of how good you looked with sticky champagne drying on your breasts filled his mind. And that was before you were lactating. He kissed his daughter's face a dozen times and whispered, "I love you, Nugget, but I need to pound Mommy into a mattress uninterrupted for a few hours."

"Bradley!"

"What? She gets it," he muttered, kissing her one last time before handing her back to you. "I'll put the bags in the Bronco. We can leave as soon as you're ready."

---------------------------

You ran your palm along your sundress, trying to keep yourself from texting your mom again. The hotel was just five minutes away now, and she promised they would call if they needed anything. When you left your house, Rose was sound asleep on your dad's chest while he read the newspaper on the couch, and you knew she would be well taken care of.

"I just miss her," you whispered, staring out the window at nothing, trying to get lost in Bradley's Motown playlist.

"Sweetheart, I miss her during an eight hour workday. Trust me, I miss her now, too, but you and I need a little rest and some time alone."

"And my parents need to know we trust them," you supplied.

"Yes," Bradley agreed as he made the final turn toward the beach. "And I need to lick champagne off your tits."

You couldn't stop the smile that found your lips or the laughter that bubbled up inside you. "Okay, we did have a pretty good time here two years ago."

"A pretty good time?" Bradley scoffed. "That was some of our best work. I mean, I was going to propose to you anyway, but after that adventure, it couldn't happen soon enough."

You had your face buried in both hands as Bradley handed the keys for the Bronco to the hotel valet. Your cheeks were burning, but more than anything you wanted him to never be able to get enough of you.

"Let's go," he rasped, helping you out your door and into his arms. He was holding both bags and the champagne and wrapping his fingers around yours like it was nothing. "I want to hang out in the room for a bit before we go to dinner."

Once you had the room keys in your hand, you rode to the top floor in the elevator. "How much did you pay for this room, Roo?" you asked, pulling his aviators down low on his nose so you could have a clear view of his eyes. "Bradley," you said, leaning up to kiss him, "how much did you go over budget?"

"We don't need budgets," he said firmly, backing you out as soon as the doors slid open. "College savings will be a waste of time since Rose is going to have a free ride to the Naval Academy."

His words made you smile, and his big hand felt incredible through the fabric of your dress. "How much?" you whispered, unlocking the correct door when you came to it. You were met with a massive suite with a sprawling balcony overlooking the ocean. Bradley was sheepish when you turned to look at him with wide eyes. "Do I even want to know?"

"No. You do not," he whispered, setting everything down and reaching for you. "I'm serious about Rose though. She's just like you. She'll be the smartest kid in school. And beautiful, too."

He had you in his arms, and you ran your palm over the fly of his jeans. "You just want me to let you open some champagne, don't you?"

"Desperately," he whispered.

Thirty minutes later, he popped open a bottle fresh out of the ice bucket, and you sat down on his lap on the balcony. The sun was bright, but it wasn't too warm, and the crash of the waves below was like a natural soundtrack. "This is nice," you told him, taking the first sip and licking your lips before passing him the bottle. But his eyes were glued on you. "What?"

He closed his eyes, nostrils flaring. "I've had a semi-boner since we got here. There's no way you can't feel it."

You leaned in closer and ran your lips along his ear. "I can definitely feel it. Your cock is huge."

He whined your first name like you were torturing him, and if he was partially hard a minute ago, now he was all the way there. "You'll be the death of me," he replied before chugging half the bottle. Then he froze, eyes going wide while a few delicate bubbles lingered on his mustache before bursting. "What are you doing?"

"Unzipping your pants," you told him with a shrug as you did exactly that. Your room was at one far end of the building, but there was a neighboring room with its own balcony on one side. And it was definitely occupied, because you could occasionally hear voices through the open door.

"The next balcony is like ten feet away," he whispered, glancing to his right before his gaze returned to your face.

You paused with your hand down the front of his pants and your hand around his cock. "Do you not want me to?"

"No, I do," he replied, voice dark and needy. "Very much so, actually."

You wanted it, too. Even just the suggestion of exhibitionism got you going, and you knew that he knew it. "We can be discreet," you promised, wiggling into place so you were straddling him. There were a few people walking around on the beach below, but you didn't care. You pulled your panties aside and let him run his tip through your pussy before he guided himself inside. It felt like your eyes were going to roll back in your head as you shook your sundress around both of you, hiding where you were intimately connected.

"Jesus," you moaned arching your back as your hands settled on his shoulders. "This should always be an outdoor activity." The sun was warm on your face, and now the ocean soundtrack was accompanied by Bradley's soft grunting.

"I know you think we're being discreet, but we're not, Baby Girl," he whispered, rolling his hips up to meet yours while he drank more champagne. "Not one little bit."

"Save some of that for my tits," you told him, tapping the bottle with your nails. "I'm going to need you to nurse soon so they don't start hurting."

"Fuck. Me," he groaned, shaking his head. "If you say something like that again, I'll cum."

You leaned forward, pressing your breasts against him while you fucked him slowly. "Well I'm not ready yet, so don't you dare."

Bradley kissed you softly before pressing the champagne bottle to your lips. "I can be exactly what you need."

--------------------------------

You looked worn out after two balcony orgasms where he had to cover your mouth with his hand. Not only that, but your breast milk was leaking through your dress.

"Discretion is not our strong suit," he murmured, quickly tucking his cock, sticky with cum, back into his jeans as soon as you let him slip out of your warm pussy. He was sure your thighs were a mess beneath that pretty, floral fabric as you stood there on shaky legs.

He was sitting just like that, with his hand on his zipper and the other one holding the bit of pink champagne that was left in the bottle, when a couple strolled out onto the next balcony over.

Your eyebrows shot up, and you started laughing. "Well, on that note, I hope you're still thirsty, Roo."

"Shit," he grunted, following you back through the door and into the spacious bedroom as you lowered the straps of your dress. When you turned around to face him while wiggling the fabric below your glorious breasts, your brow was pinched with concern.

"They definitely hurt now. I swear they fill up more when I'm aroused."

As you sat down on the edge of the bed and kicked your shoes off, Bradley felt a little dizzy. When you scooted up toward the pillows and eased yourself down onto your back, he could see the drying mess he'd made between your legs as well as the beads of milk overflowing from your nipples.

This had to be something close to heaven. A hot wife, full of his cum, practically begging him to put his mouth on her swollen tits. "Fuck," he groaned, already getting hard again. He was a mess for you. Rosie, too. But knowing you were the one responsible for nearly everything good in his life made him crazy.

He dribbled the rest of the champagne on your skin. "Yes," you hissed as soon as his lips connected with one pert nipple. The two flavors mixed together on his tongue, creating something he knew he'd crave for the rest of his life. Soft sounds somewhere between relief and arousal found the back of your throat while your fingers threaded through his hair. "That feels so much better," you whispered while he lapped up and swallowed down your milk. "Thank you."

He snorted with laughter as he switched sides, running his nose along the warm, sweet smelling valley between your breasts. "This is literally my pleasure, Sweetheart. You don't have to thank me for this." He took your overflowing nipple between his lips and ran his hands along your silky skin while your nails scraped his scalp. "Such a pleasure."

"What are you going to do when I stop lactating?" you whispered.

He wanted to tell you he'd probably cry, but that wasn't even the truth. He let your nipple pop free and teased it with his tongue before looking up at your face. "It's not like I'm going to suddenly not want your tits in my mouth anymore," he promised, making you laugh. "Besides, when you stop lactating, that'll mean Rosie is a toddler, right? There's just too much to get excited about."

"There is," you agreed as he went back to making sure you felt more comfortable.

When you were sufficiently empty and Bradley was sufficiently full, he curled up with his head on your chest and fell asleep while you played with his hair. There was a smile on his lips when he remembered that he was going to have to do this for you over and over again for the next few days. While he dozed, he dreamed about getting locked in a candy shop overnight where he indulged in everything he wanted before passing out in a tub of gummy bears.

"It's dinnertime," you whispered, tugging on his hair, and Bradley jolted awake. His cheek was a little sweaty and stuck to your skin, and he had to get up slowly as his sleepiness started to fade away.

"Dinner," he grunted, wondering how many calories he was about to consume between a platter of seafood and all of your breast milk. He was going to have to get up early and run tomorrow morning. "Okay, yeah. Let's eat dinner and then drink more champagne while we snuggle."

"Sounds ideal," you replied, sitting up in bed with your tits in his face. He realized that you didn't get completely undressed for him, rather just maneuvering your dress to give him access to your breasts earlier. And now you grabbed a clean sundress from your bag before retreating into the bathroom and pulling the door halfway closed.

He knew you didn't like the way your belly looked now because you'd told him as much, but to him, nothing really changed. You were still you, maybe a little softer. A little rounder. But just as beautiful. He walked right into the bathroom as your dress dropped to the floor, wearing nothing but your soaked underwear. Bradley met your gaze in the mirror as you dug around in your toiletry bag, and he stopped right behind you with his hands on your hips.

"Did you need something?" you asked softly, voice teasing.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, kissing the side of your neck as his fingers drifted across your belly. "I was in such a daze after my nap, I forgot to tell you I love you."

You smiled at him in the mirror as he sloppily kissed your cheek. "I love you, too. Now let me find my pill pack and get dressed for dinner." You rummaged around in your little bag as he continued to hold you. "Huh.... oh, shit." Bradley watched you dump the contents out onto the marble counter he couldn't want to fuck you on later, and you groaned. "I forgot my birth control pills. I can picture them at home on my nightstand."

"It's okay," he replied with a shrug. "I can just pull out." You turned and gave him a bland look. "What?"

"Will you actually do it?" you asked. Bradley realized that you were already full of his cum at this very moment, but he didn't say a word about that as he nodded.

"Of course I will. I told you months ago that I'd pull out if you wanted. Or I can drive home and get your pills. It's only forty-five minutes away."

"No," you replied, clearly wavering. "I don't want us to miss dinner, and the restaurant makes an in-house hot sauce which is absolutely magical. Just pull out this weekend."

He let his chin rest on your shoulder, inhaling the sweet smell of your skin as he nodded. "You got it, Sweetheart."

----------------------------------

I feel as though Bradley made a pretty bold statement there. He's just a kid in a candy shop when it comes to enjoying his life right now. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 26

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 months ago

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Platonic Yandere Sea Monster

The ocean is a dangerous entity

Known for her high waves, immeasurable depths, and eternal mysteries

She entices millions into her cold embrace every day

Many of whom are devoured by said mysteries leaving no trace

One of its greatest mysteries is a creature who’s been roaming beneath the surface of the earth for eons

So it truly is a special occasion that Maelstrom breaks this streak for a feast on a private yacht

It’s far too easy how this new (to him) bipedal species gawks and helplessly flails while he sucks the bones out of their soft skin

He doesn’t care for the soft innards that the skin holds

He does like how their screams gurgle and warble as he delights in their crunchy bones

So he makes it his mission to devour or turn into water

And he’s sure that he’s done so with all of the little crunchy snack bags on the ship

Until he’s led into a cramped little closet with a tiny version of the springy boxes he’d found before

On it was a wailing babe—you

Now that he’s recognized

Because for all the different species evolution has brought it a crying infant was a common denominator

And you were crying hard

Whether you were the sibling or offspring of some ill-thinking teen or an overworked employee of the crew the one who was going to care for you was gone

And Maelstorm knew that

On the account that he’s certain he’d still be hearing your incessant crying on the entirely silent yacht, he molds his water-like body into something more like the ‘human skin bags’

Letting his face bulge and bubble with the vague memory of his meal’s screaming faces until you stop crying

“There…there…my pearl.”

It’s been so long since he’s been awake to have a pet

Surely it won’t be too hard

…right?

“Aaaaghh!”

“You’re not hungry, you’re not sleepy, you’ve already gone to the bathroom! WHAT IS IT!?”

He’s never been so stressed out

Stressed out trying to stop your little face from contorting anymore as you empty your little lungs and exhaust your little vocal cords

He eventually decides he does need help and uses one of the less rotted bodies to go on land and learn among these skin bags so that he knows what to do

“Oh poor sir looks like they’re just hungry for some warm hugs.”

“Is that…really all?”

“Why of course! Babies really hinge on your emotions and attention.”

After he takes in the ‘nurse’s’ wisdom he begins to feel something new

Something full of jealousy that has him snatching your swaddled form before giving a light pat that turns her into a puddle on the floor

Maelstorm easily finds another skin-bag with a nice face to take the body of

Leaving with a skip in his step while the ‘skin-bags’ authorities baffled over the only remnant of a missing ‘nurse’

“I see now to avoid this awful feeling I must make sure all my affection is being given to my pearl.”

From there you can be sure that you’re entire life will be filled with Maelstorm learning about the negative emotions he can get as you grow

True there will be many positive feelings

But he learns that to protect those precious new feelings

Barricading you on abandoned ships and attacking all the skin-bags that come to keep it that way

And even when you grow into the adults he’d previously snacked on

He won’t completely leave humans alone

He pulls back on this snacking habit only because he sees more of you in them

But he’s not going to stop eating them

Especially when he finds your attention drifting from him as you crave more socialization

“As far as I’m concerned all we need is each other. Now do I have to eat this entire village or will you go back to our boat?”

#yandere x you #yandere x reader #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere monster #platonic yanderes #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #yandere platonic #yandere sea monster #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere platonic oc Maelstorm #yandere original character #yandere original characters #yandere original character x reader

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4unnyr0se · 4 months ago

Text

❥ sfw & n$fw headcanons - yuu nishinoya & morisuke yaku

warnings: timeskip! characters, fem! reader, they're sweetiepies, noya is actually a freak, roleplay, switch! noya, hickeys, spanking, mentions of unprotected sex, dom! yaku, slight breeding kink with yaku, cowgirl, doggystyle, they love you so much

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 2k

a/n: im sorry if yaku is ooc i wrote this at 2am and i do not feel like editing anything. n$fw is censored because i would like to keep my blog lmao

Yuu Nishinoya - SFW

❥ Absolutely whipped for you the second he lays his eyes upon you. You could be doing anything, literally anything, and he knew right then and there that he would die for you, no questions asked.

❥ He doesn’t really care what qualifies as a “date” as long as he gets to spend time with you. You could be folding laundry together, and he thinks it’s the most romantic date you’ve been on because you’re with him and you’re his entire world.

❥ Spontaneous. Gifts. He’ll send flowers to where you work, give you cool rocks he found while hiking or doing some other such thing, making you a care basket full of your favorite chocolates and snacks, contracting Sugawara to help him write love letters (writing is not his strong suit but he still wants to do it.)

❥ So much food, like…just so much food. You’ve been to every restaurant in town at least twice because that boy loves to eat. Even if you aren’t a big eater, he’ll still make sure you get three meals a day plus snacks. And if you struggle to eat, he’ll be so happy even if you only eat a little bit off your plate.

❥ Quality time and physical touch are his love languages, so expect to be getting kisses often. Pecks on the cheek in public, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you wash dishes in the sink. And if he’s jealous? He has no problem making out with you in front of people because you’re his, and the world should know.

❥ Speaking of physical touch, this man will not stop holding your hand. At least one part of him is touching a part of you at any given moment when you’re together as if he’s afraid you’d float away if he let go.

❥ Hella clingy, this man is incredibly clingy. If you get up to use the restroom when you’re cuddling, he’s waiting outside the door for you to come back so he can kiss those beautiful lips of yours. He just can’t get enough!

❥ Obsessed with you and everything that you do. Did you sneeze? He’s on the verge of tears because you look so fucking cute when you sneeze. Did you buy a new outfit? He’s throwing a tantrum until you model it for him so he can shower you with praise. Noya worships the ground you walk on and them some.

❥ Lowkey possessive but in a good way. Deep down, he’s worried that you’ll leave him for someone taller or better than he is, so he gets a tiny bit jealous when he sees someone talking to you that he considers a threat. Of course, you’re free to do whatever you like. He would never tell you what you can and cannot do. He respects you too much for that. But he will talk to you about his feelings because he’s mature like that.

N$FW

❥ So. Many. Hickeys. This ties into the part of him being possessive. He wants to let everyone know that you’re his, and what better way to show you off than by parading you around town with your neck and chest covered in little red and purple bruises? You’ve nearly gone bankrupt on buying just concealer because once a hickey fades away, a new one will take its place in no time at all.

❥ Literally anything the two of you do will end in him fucking you or vice versa. If you bend down to pick something up, his hands are groping your ass, and he’s pulling down your panties and shoving his fingers into your pussy, all the while whispering the filthiest things in your ear.

❥ This motherfucker whines and whimpers, and he’s so incredibly loud about it. The second he shoves his dick inside, he becomes a babbling, pussydrunk mess that’s only focused on you cumming all over his cock.

❥ Noya is 100% a switch who doesn’t lean towards being submissive or dominant. He just does whatever you want him to. Do you want him to fuck you stupid for hours on end? He’s down for that? Do you want to tie him up, blindfold him, and ride him until he can’t think. Also completely down for that.

❥ Endless stamina. As long as you’re up for it, he can fuck you for the entire day. He simply doesn’t believe in a recovery period on his end. He’ll fuck you from sunrise to sunset. All you have to do is ask.

❥ Tits man 100%. Noya loves tits, no matter the size or shape. If you have huge tits, he’s fondling them as he takes you from behind. Medium-sized tits? He sucks on them as you ride his cock, relishing in the taste. Small tits? He plays with your pert nipples as he fucks you missionary. All tits are good tits in his eyes

.❥ Highly experimental in the bedroom. He’ll try anything and everything if it means you both get to feel good. From you pegging him to him filming your third orgasm of the night, he’s down for whatever. The only things he isn’t okay with are hitting you (impact play) and sharing you with others. He will casually slap your ass but that’s as far as he’ll go. He just can’t bring himself to hit you, even if it turns you on.

❥ Could eat you out for literal days and not get tired, not even for one second. He wants you cumming on his tongue and pulling on his hair as you beg him for more, and he’ll give it to you.

❥ Focuses on your pleasure, not his own. You’re his goddess and he’d do anything to serve you, anything to make you cum again and again.

❥ Has a whole index of kinks, but his top ones are roleplay and passionate sex. Dress up as a teacher, and he’ll cum in his pants, begging on you to punish him for failing your class.

❥ Loves to make love to you.

❥ “Yeah? You like it when I fuck you with my fingers, angel? M’gonna make you cum so fucking much for me, my perfect angel.”

❥ “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t get enough of this dick, can you baby? Gotta fuck you stupid.”

❥ “More, I want more! I’ve been so bad, I deserve to be punished, ma’am!”

❥ “Talk to the camera for me, angel. Tell the camera how many times my cock made this pussy squirt all over the sheets.”

❥ “Gonna fucking cum inside, can’t pull out. Oh, fuck, baby, you’re fucking milking me dry, shit.”

❥ “Faster, fuck me faster! Wanna fucking cum so bad, please! I’ve been good, right?”

Morisuke Yaku - SFW

❥ Loves when you get an attitude with him because he also has an attitude. He loves when you talk back to him and when you tell him how you really feel, it’s just so refreshing. Honesty is very important to Yaku.

❥ You and Yaku basically continue to mother Lev well after you’re both graduated. Lev will call and text you for advice and you’ll gladly help him, even if Yaku gets a little jealous that you’re paying more attention to the oversized Russian than you are to your own boyfriend.

❥ Takes you on the most romantic restaurant dates ever. He has professional athlete money, so order whatever the hell you like! If you want five lobsters, get five lobsters. As long as his baby is happy.

❥ Spoils you rotten, but he won’t ever admit it. If you point out a cute necklace that you saw in a magazine, it’s there when you wake up the next morning. Yaku will pretend to not know how it got there, but he knows, obviously. Expect lots of expensive gifts when you’re dating, especially from designer brands. Half of your closet is Chanel and you sure as hell aren’t complaining.

❥ Not that big on PDA, but will wrap an arm around your waist in public. Since he’s a well-known libero in the Russian Volleyball League, he gets approached on the street sometimes. He doesn’t want to draw too much attention to himself (especially if you hate getting attention from strangers, so he holds off on kissing you until you’re in the privacy of his penthouse apartment.

❥ Pleads and begs until you adopt a cat together. He just wants a cat with you, any cat will do. It can be a cat you found in a dumpster or a cat that cost someone’s entire yearly salary, he just wants a cat to raise with you by his side.

❥ Wraps his arms around your waist as you cook and leave kisses on your neck. Whether you’re taller or shorter from him, get ready for hugs and kisses from behind.

❥ If you struggle with your body image, he’ll kiss away all your insecurities. His lips will be on yours for hours as he tells you how perfect you are, and how much he loves you. He’ll kiss away your tears as you start crying as well, because to him you are perfect.

N$FW

❥ Not very vocal in bed, but he does make plenty of grunts and groans. The only time you’ll ever really hear him moan is when you bite down on his incredibly sensitive neck, which will make him cum on the spot.

❥ Advocate for safe and healthy sex but prefers to hit it raw. He’ll use a condom if you want him to, he isn’t a monster. But the way you react when his cum fills out of your womb makes him want to wife you up and fuck you every single day.

❥ Designer lingerie is his weakness, especially the ones with garters that squeeze your thigh beautifully. If you wear red lingerie around him, be prepared to not be able to walk tomorrow because he will ruin your pussy.

❥ 100% a pleasure dom. Nothing makes him happier than knowing that he fucks you so good each and every night that you can’t even get off without his help anymore because that’s how much he loves to fuck you.

❥ Ass man. His hands will be on your ass all the time and you just have to accept it. He loves to fuck you from behind because he’s mesmerized by the way your ass moves as he fucks you. His favorite position is doggystyle.

❥ A weird turn-on for him is when you walk around wearing his jersey. He fucking loves it when you wear his jersey, and he can see your lacy panties poking out under the shirt, it drives him wild. If you wear his jersey, he gets an instant boner.

❥ Sit. In. His. Lap. Sit in his lap and dry hump him. He needs it so badly. He loves watching as you struggle to get off on his thigh. You look so cute when you’re desperate.

❥ Definitely a brat tamer. He loves it when you have an attitude because he gets to fuck it out of you later, spanking you as he tells you how much of a brat you are and how you need to learn your lesson. You never do.

❥ Mirror sex. He’s mesmerized by how adorable you look in the mirror as your pussy struggles to take his girthy cock.

❥ “Yeah? Look at yourself in the mirror, princess. Look at how your slutty little pussy is taking me. You’re such a little slut, you’re my little slut.”

❥ “Did you think you could just walk around in my jersey and nothing else? Bend over, princess, right fucking now.”

❥ “I’m so fucking close, shit. You want me to cum inside you, princess? Want me to fill you up and give you my babies? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

❥ “Fuck, you know what red does to me. So fucking slutty for me, babygirl. Now get on the bed and spread those legs nice and wide like a good girl.”

❥ “Take it, fucking take it. That’s my good girl. I love it when you behave for me, princess. Can I get another one of you, my love? I think you can handle another orgasm.”

❥ “You look so pretty when you cum, princess. Do you like how your Morisuke makes you feel? Use your words, princess.”

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#yuu nishinoya #nishinoya smut #nishinoya yuu #karasuno #yaku smut #yaku morisuke #nishinoya x reader #yaku x reader #nekoma

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merakiui · 5 months ago

Text

angel/angler.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, stalking, non-con, non-consensual photography, chikan/groping (train molestation), obsession, kidnapping/captivity, drugging, violence, blood, death (or is it??), azul's insecurities and low self-esteem, azul’s not-so-subtle breeding kink, implied disordered eating, reader's height isn't described, but it's written that azul is taller note - to obsess is to hunger like an angler from the deep sea. living his entire life in pitch-black solitude, entranced by an angel's halo; his only purpose is to find the body that will become his lifeline and, one day, his cemetery.

entry 1: 18 April, 20XX.

For anonymity’s sake, I’ve chosen to write using a vague pronoun. Additionally, this diary will be a record of my thoughts so that I can keep my mind and senses intact. In my youth, I was prone to terrible fits of self-destructive rage, and as a result they suggested I write my feelings down to prevent any outbursts. I’m not very physical towards others. Rather, it was the harm I posed to myself that fostered concern.

But this space isn’t for my own views on myself. It’s about someone else.

I have a confession: I’ve fallen in love with you from the train, and I’ve been in love with you for the four months I’ve come to know you.

You wear perfectly pressed suits, heels of a modest height, tights, and pencil skirts that cut just at your knees. I want to touch you, but if I do you might stop wearing skirts altogether and then I’ll never see your legs again. I suppose trousers aren’t so unattractive. They’re appealing in their own right. Everything looks good on you, though. (Nothing would look even better.)

You work in an office building. I’m not sure which floor, but I’ll know soon enough. I wanted to follow you inside, but there’s a security guard in the lobby. He always greets you, and you always smile and chat with him. You’re a kind person, so I let this pass without incident. But I can’t lie to these pages and say it’s not troublesome when I watch his gaze linger longer than it needs to.

I’d kill him, but then they’d employ a new guard and you’d make friends with him because you’re so kind. I don’t admire kind people. Rather, I find kindness to be a double-edged blade (Is that the correct phrasing? It’s different in my hometown. We say kindness is like pufferfish—harmless until it’s provoked and then it becomes poisonous). It’s not that I look down on kind people. I just think you shouldn’t be so quick to befriend the world in its entirety.

After plenty of observation, I’ve learned that you often leave your building to get lunch by yourself. This is what you’ve eaten in the week:

Monday - A salad at a popular café. Iced tea because it was a sunny day. A tiny cheesecake for dessert. It was blueberry.

Tuesday - A wrap of some kind. Chicken? Or was it vegetarian? Sweet potato fries. Water.

Wednesday - You didn’t leave your building. Were you at work today?

Thursday - Another salad. Water. Same café. No tiny cheesecake.

Friday - You went to lunch with that guard. I only remember my irritation and so I’m afraid I can’t make note of your meal for today. He looks at you like an obsessed puppy waiting for its owner to give it attention. I want to pluck his eyes from his sockets so he’ll never look at you in that way again.

You lead a healthy lifestyle, but I can’t help wondering if you’re eating well. Did someone say something about your figure? I’ll eviscerate them for you and then they can see how much it hurts when unnecessary scrutiny is thrown around.

It’s quite late. I want to sleep, but thinking about you has my body wide-awake. I wonder if your mouth tastes like the moonlight shining in through my window. I wonder if your body is soft like mine… Of course it is. A silly, irrational thought. You’re much warmer than me. This is just a theory. I’ve yet to feel and confirm for myself. I will in the foreseeable future.

Before we part ways, I want you to know that I’m not very good at cooking. I’ve picked up a few books and hope to learn. I’m going to practice so that I can feed you better meals one day. Salads are the worst. Fried chicken is the true meal of heaven. I’m certain you would share this sentiment.

If I were to be condemned to a last meal like those serial killers on death row, I’d ask for fried chicken. Knowing you, you’re too good to kill anyone. In this hypothetical, supposing you’re a heinous criminal, your last meal would be something healthy. Do you even like those salads, or are you forcing yourself because you must? I understand calorie-counting well enough, but if there’s one thing to enjoy in life it should be food.

I suppose that makes me a hypocrite. I ought to take my own advice.

Oh. I’m starting to grip my pen with more force and the lines have become shaky. I usually break my writing utensils if my focus strays. I’ll stop here for today. Ink is a pain to clean.

AA.

The morning rush is your greatest enemy.

Jack Howl, the lobby’s security, has suggested giving you a ride on numerous occasions. “It’s part of the reason I got my license,” he explained once, “so that I can protect those who work in this building from the rush. Not like you have to accept my offer. It’s just…convenient for both of us. Again, I don’t care what you do.”

(He does. You see through his gruff surface.)

According to him, the morning and night rushes bring out the worst kinds of characters.

But isn’t that everywhere? you think as you peer out the window, watching the city come into clarity.

Like every morning, the train car is more crowded than a sardine tin. You’re used to being pressed up against other commuters, pinned to the window or between people. You’re flattered to know someone’s concerned, but nothing has happened yet. And why would it? It’s bright outside. No one would dare do something during the day. At least, not in a crowded area where anyone could see and hear.

I wonder what I should have for dinner. I still need to go shopping. My fridge is way too empty, you think, sighing. And I need to follow up with that one author. They’ve yet to get back to me about my edits. Perhaps we should meet in the office instead of through video call… And I also need to finalize that other style sheet after the last round of editing. And then another conference… There was something else. Was I scheduled to have lunch with an author? Or was that next week? I should check before—

The train shudders as it slides into the station. Someone brushes against you from behind. Their hand is pressed against the window just near your head. They steady themselves, their body so close to yours you can hear their staggered breathing.

“Ah. S-Sorry…”

It’s next week, right? I really should check once I get to my stop. This is going to eat me alive all day.

“Mhm,” you hum, waving dismissively.

The stranger standing behind you peels his hand away from the window. A sweaty palm print is left in its wake.

“We will be approaching the next stop shortly.”

Just one more and you’ll be getting off.

A pair of bright eyes blinks back at you in the reflection, watching the city just as you are.

entry 5: 22 April, 20XX.

I’m not a social person by any means. If I can avoid crowds, I usually do. An introvert’s paradise is best spent in the comfort of their own room, after all. But if you prefer outdoor dates I can become extroverted for your sake. There are lots of things I’m willing to do for your sake.

Which is why I’ve forced myself to tolerate the train. I loathe it. It’s cramped and uncomfortable. Most days I’m not even near you, and so all I can do is stare longingly from afar. I content myself with imaginary scenarios like in the books you edit. I’ve mentioned it sparsely in this diary, but you’re a brilliant editor. Most of the novels you work on aren’t exactly my taste, but there’s something to appreciate about them. Reading through them knowing your very eyes pored over these pages dozens of times before publication… I admire your work. Immense time and effort goes into all professions, especially ones that involve meticulous touches.

With this discussion of careers, you might wonder what I do for a living. I manage my own restaurant chain off-site. It must be shocking news for you to realize: your secret admirer is actually quite successful.

If I’m not able to provide an adequate life—no, more than that. If I cannot drown you in all of life’s luxuries, I should sooner throw myself on the beach and let this soft, wriggling body of mine dry out than settle for the barest of minimums. You deserve only the finest.

In fact, I have a room in my home dedicated to you. A private office in which you can write and edit in peace. It’s furnished with everything you’d ever need. I hope to gift it to you one day.

Remote work is very relaxing. (You’ll know this once you try it here.) When you’re boss, you work your own schedule. That’s why I’m able to fit our secret meetings into my weekly itinerary.

Today’s meeting was quite fortuitous. I felt like I’d won the lottery. Mostly because I was finally given the opportunity to be close to you. So close, in fact, that you didn’t even notice when I slid my phone under your skirt to take a few photos. Your undergarments are unexpectedly plain. Truthfully, I’m somewhat disappointed. I was hoping to learn your lingerie preferences. At the very least, I know your tights are sheer enough to show me the color of your panties.

I consider myself a connoisseur of many things, and I’ve done enough interior decorating in my time to become well-accustomed to color palettes. A fool would say your panties are red, but they’re actually maroon.

That same fool wouldn’t take another breath after glimpsing such a private side of you.

If you must know, my dear, I am excessively avaricious when it comes to the things I like. I have always been this way. I am a collector. A hoarder of secrets. I refuse to let others touch or take the things that belong to me, especially when they are wholly undeserving…

I’ve broken another pen. Thankfully, the mess wasn’t so extreme. Not-so-thankfully, I’ve lost my train of thought.

Ah. Right. Trains.

Today I rode the train, and I was standing right behind you. You were looking out the window, lost in your thoughts, and so you didn’t notice me. You must have seen my reflection, but I wear a mask and a hooded sweatshirt when I go outside. Perhaps it’s a touch embarrassing to admit, but I am very self-conscious of the way I look. Firstly, my eyes are too tired. I’ve read that many people are not fond of eyes with dark circles under them. Secondly, my face is average—unworthy of your love by my lofty standards. My hair never cooperates. My smiles never fit properly. My skin is too pale. My eyes are too blue and my pupils are abnormal. My weight is just a few kilograms above the average. I will work hard to bring it back down for your sake and for my own so that it won’t show. I prefer a slim waist, so I must stomach all manner of healthy foods for the weekend. What a pity… Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could eat whatever you wanted without having to worry about caloric intake and numbers on a scale?

That aside, there are times in which my glasses sit crooked on my face and it’s a horrifying thought to imagine I walk around looking like that! As if I’ve rolled right out of bed with no regard for my appearance whatsoever!

Perhaps the both of us share one similarity. We are vain creatures who care too much about how we present ourselves to others.

Thus, I conceal myself so that you won’t judge me harshly should you look upon me. Not like you’d do that. You were so immersed in your head that you hardly paid any attention to your surroundings. You should be more careful. What if something were to happen and I wasn’t there to protect you?

The train stuttered to a halt at the first stop, and some fool bumped into me. I should thank them because I got to brush against you. You gasped softly. I watched your breath fog the window. I placed my hand just above your head and apologized softly, and you weren’t bothered in the slightest. Oh, how I envy your carefree nature.

As a result of that stranger’s mishap, I’ve learned something new. You wear perfume. Even with my mask, I could smell it. Strong and flowery, overwhelmingly sweet. Maybe you prefer these scents? I’m more partial to mature scents, but I admit there’s a certain charm to the scents you wear. I wish I knew the exact brand. There are dozens of perfumes with the same notes as the ones I picked up, but none can compare to the one you use. I want to be able to hold the bottle knowing it’s your favorite.

I’ve prattled enough. With the length of my entries, you’d assume I was this chatty beyond the page. I’m not. I only say as much as I think is necessary.

Once again, I’m having trouble falling asleep. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m looking through the photos I snapped and the outline of your lips against your panties is lovely. I’m sure you’re just as soft and sweet inside as you are on the outside. If only I could experience it right now. My hand can’t replicate the softness or the wetness or the way you’ll probably clamp down when we finally make love.

I can only fantasize for now. What a pain.

AA.

“It’s going to rain today,” Jack tells you the minute you step through the lift doors into the lobby. He stands straight like a soldier, his shoulders squared and features set into something serious.

“Looks like it, huh?” You glance at the darkening sky outside, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Hopefully it rains after I get home. I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

“I’ll drive you.” He falls into step beside you. “It’s dark out and the station is—”

“It’s only five minutes away. I’ll be fine. I take this way all the time.”

Jack’s lip twitches into a grim frown. The beginnings of a sharp, pearly-white canine flashes at you as his mouth curls. “Fine,” he concedes with a huff. Awkwardly, he scratches the back of his neck and looks elsewhere. “Do what you want. I’m not forcing you or anything.”

You smile at him. “You’re very considerate, Jack. I appreciate the concern.”

He’s like a puppy. It’s really sweet.

“W-Wha—who said anything about concern?” His face is growing warmer by the second, thawing his external ice.

“I’ll be okay. It’s not even that dark out either.”

“Still…” He sighs and cards his hand through his hair. “You haven’t noticed anything weird lately, have you?”

“Anything weird?” You furrow your brows, suddenly confused.

“On your way home. Nothing out of the ordinary? It’s the same every day?”

“Mostly, yeah. Why? Did something happen?”

“No. Just wondering…” Jack looks past you then, searching for something you can’t seem to see. “You sure you don’t want a ride? I can walk you to the station. Protect you if anything or anyone—”

You force yourself to laugh. “Come on. You’re trying to scare me on purpose. This is because I told you I’m editing a horror novel, isn’t it?”

Jack doesn’t share in your humor. Instead, his frown tightens on his face.

“While I’m grateful you want to help, I really don’t want to put that on you. It’s not your job to chauffeur me around. I’d feel bad if I made you do that. So thank you, but I’ll have to decline.”

You turn swiftly on your heel before he can protest, striding out the door into the gloomy night.

When is it going to be summer? It’s way too chilly.

You burrow into your jacket as you beeline for the station. A brisk breeze blows through busy city streets. Even though there are still people out and about, it feels strangely desolate.

Jack’s heart was in the right place, but did he really have to phrase it like that?

You wrap your arms around yourself and hurry along. Your steps are in time with your pounding heart. A cold sweat beads along your forehead.

Relax. It’s nothing to get worked up over. I’m fine.

Crunch.

You whirl around, clutching your bag between your arms. There’s no one in sight. The city seems eerily quiet tonight.

Stop scaring yourself. Nothing’s there.

No, it’s not something that could make that sound—a noise akin to a footstep. That belongs to someone.

Is someone following you?

You aren’t going to wait around and find out. Now you’re jogging the rest of the way, your heels clicking against the pavement. Your breath comes in shaky heaves, and by the time you finally step into the station’s blinding fluorescents, adrenaline still vibrating through your veins, you notice the time.

My train—it’s already here! Thank you. Oh, thank you so much!

You rush through the station in a flurry, and the relief is tangible once you’re safe and sound inside the train car. You squirm through the throng of late-night commuters towards the window.

“Sorry. Excuse me. Pardon me,” you murmur as you navigate the crowded space.

You make it to the window just as the doors slide shut. Moments later, the train squeaks into motion.

I worked up such a sweat. I can’t believe I got so frazzled over something as small as a snapped twig…or whatever that was. It wasn’t a footstep. And if it was, it was probably my own.

You shake your head at your reflection.

Look at me, losing my mind all because I let someone’s words get to my head.

The stranger standing behind you sighs alongside you. You’re about to turn around, but it’s their hands on your waist that stop you. Your blood freezes. Your spine goes rigid.

“Excuse me? Um… C-Can I help you?”

You gasp, horrified, as the hands creep higher until they’re wrapped around your chest. The stranger squeezes almost curiously. Their breath catches on an eager hitch. You peer helplessly at the window. Two blue eyes blink back.

“Wait… Hold on—”

“It’s okay.” A man’s voice. Sweet and silky-smooth. A reassuring whisper. Only you can hear it with this invasively close proximity. It might as well be a drop in the ocean that is the rickety din of the train on the rails. You reach to grab his arms, hoping to pry him off. “I’m not going to hurt you. As long as you’re quiet…”

“No, you can’t. Please, sir. S-Stop… Don’t touch there.” Your fingers curl around his wrists. You squirm against him, your brain blanking.

This can’t be happening… There’s just no way…

Something stiff prods at your ass from behind. You yelp softly when he rubs himself against you. You try to catch sight of his features when you crane your neck, but all you get is a faceful of a dark hoodie. He’s tall enough to block you from the other passengers, his body caging yours against the window. One hand slides away from your chest to slip under your skirt. He gropes at your inner thigh; his fingers draw dangerously close to private territory.

“Sir—”

He inhales a dreamy breath. “Perfect,” he babbles, his words muffled by his mask. “So perfect. Warm… And soft. Just as I thought.”

There’s nowhere for you to run. Nowhere to hide. You’re trapped here with this fiend until you get off at your stop.

“We will be approaching the stop shortly,” the woman on the intercom says, but it doesn’t give you the relief you’re after.

Three more stops and then you’ll be at yours. Three more. Three. Your stop might as well be years away.

Two fingers trace the outline of your pussy through your panties. You’re grateful you’re wearing tights.

His breathing is heavy. He’s mumbling filth in your ear. You hardly register it over the static in your brain.

Gross. So gross. Stop it. Please stop. I don’t want this.

A whine bubbles low in your throat when he presses down against your clit. He caresses you through the fabric of your panties. You slump against the window with your palms on the glass. Your heart is in your throat. You feel sick and dizzy. It’s too hot in here. Everything is spinning. Your heart is picking up its pace. Your hands are starting to shake.

And there’s nowhere to go. No amount of begging will stop him. He’s all over you, pressed impossibly close—so close you think he’s trying to fuse his body to yours, becoming one mutual unit.

You want to scream, but you can’t find your voice. You can’t do anything. You can’t even think.

“Don’t be scared,” he murmurs, twining his fingers around your trembling ones. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mmh, no… No—stop. P-Please, sir, please stop.” You shudder against him, and a choked, broken sob rattles through your ribs.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand. His other circles your tender, sensitive clit, and the contact elicits a whimper from you. “Even though you’re making the cutest sounds? Aah, I wanna be inside you so badly… I’m sure it’s even softer there.”

You bite down on your bottom lip so hard that your teeth pierce the skin. A thin ribbon of blood dribbles down your chin. You refuse to give him that satisfaction. Even though your attempt to snuff your voice is successful, your body doesn’t seem to agree. It shakes in fear and arousal. When he presses against your panties next, he feels the growing damp spot.

That’s just a natural reaction, right? I’m not actually aroused by this. There’s no way!

Just when you think he might pursue further, he pulls back. His hips are still flush to your ass. You can feel his cock straining against the fabric. It’s gross and demoralizing. You’re nothing but a doll for him to get off to. Less than a person.

The train glides to a halt and the doors open. People exit and enter in a busy fashion. You stare out the window at your blurred surroundings.

When the train eases back into motion, you realize tears are welling in your eyes. They don’t fall. Not yet.

It isn’t until you get off at your stop, sprint the rest of the way home, hurry up into your apartment, and lock the door that the horror of it all finally catches up to you. You collapse to your knees and wail like you’ve just lost something precious—something you’ll never be able to get back.

You’ve never felt more dirty before.

entry 36: 4 May, 20XX.

I did it. I finally did it.

My hand is shaking; I’m so happy. No, I’m more than happy. I’m absolutely overjoyed!

You don’t know this about me yet, but I’m terribly envious. I suppose that’s why I could muster the confidence to touch you and hold you… Your body is so soft against mine. Every inch of you is beautiful. I wish I could have felt beneath your shirt, lifted your bra to see your bare breasts in the window’s reflection. This is quite the shameless admission. Even I, despite admiring you for so long, am loath to admit it.

You mesmerize me. I’m already flustered just thinking about the way your hand fit in mine when I held it… And you were aroused! I was so close to such a precious area, and you were wet for me and only me. I feel so overwhelmed. It’s a dream come true. You’re such an angel. My angel.

My dear, darling angel, I’m sorry for startling you. That was the only way, you see, and certain circumstances led me to that point. You must understand.

To be unfiltered about it, it was annoying seeing that security guard pester you. I had the strongest urge to kill him, but that’s not something you can do on a whim. Murder is like running a business, in a way. One misstep, a bad investment or a sliver of evidence left behind, and it might spell the end.

That’s besides the point. It’s hardly worth the time.

Regrettably, while on the train into the city, I noticed you were wearing trousers today. I was right. Last night was a once-in-a-lifetime event. A pity. Your legs in those sheer tights is a vision to behold. Luckily, I have enough pictures to satisfy the craving to see you in them. When you live with me, I’ll buy plenty of tights for you to wear around the house. That way you won’t have to worry if I rip them.

That aside, you’ve started looking over your shoulder more. You talked to that security guard longer than you normally do. It’s irritating. Quite frankly, it pisses me off.

I don’t want to be childish. I understand you’re stressed and nervous. Anyone would be. That’s normal. But I’m not going to hurt you. I even told you those exact words! I’m certain you would have calmed down if you could see my face. Unfortunately, I’m not very blessed in that department. I assure you my personality is far prettier…despite the ugly truths I’ve penned here.

But then those don’t matter when it comes to love. Even in love, couples are supposed to recognize and accept each other’s flaws. So it’s fine if I’m an ugly person. It’s fine if I’m a devil or something grotesque from the deepest trench in the sea. At least, in spite of such darkness, your halo will continue to light the way and I will always be lured in by your luminosity.

I can’t do much of anything right now and that has led me to feel increasingly itchy. I want to feel you again. Smell you. Touch you. I’d like to taste you next time. Part your legs or tear your skirt off and indulge in the space you keep hidden from me. I want to sink into your depths and know the shape of you just as you twist yourself to take the shape of me.

It’s just not enough. I desire more of you.

AA.

entry 40: 8 May, 20XX.

It’s been a few days. You haven’t taken the train since. Now you’re driven to and from work by that pest. I was overcome with such frustration yesterday that I slammed my hands down upon my desk and fractured my wrist. For the time being, until my wrist heals, I must wear this unsightly stabilizer-brace-thing and write carefully with my non-dominant hand. I like to consider myself ambidextrous, if only because it’s a talent I’m sure will impress you, as you seem to surround yourself with successful, talented people, but I must admit my lettering is rather…subpar.

It’s not as neat as I hoped it would be. Something to practice while my wrist heals, I suppose.

There’s only so much strain I can take, my angel. Are you really so afraid of me that you’ve chosen to rely on someone else to protect you? If it was funny, I’d laugh. But it’s not. It’s annoying. Must I chain you up by the throat so that you won’t run away? Must I cuff our wrists together so that neither of us can part ways? What must I do to ensure you’ll never leave me?

Every day I spend in solitude, you grow closer to everyone but me. It’s infuriating.

However, there are always silvers of hope to be found and exploited in misfortune. As a businessman, I know this well enough.

I can plan around this. I’ve taken a few photos of your house at every angle. It’s important to think ahead when making a calculated risk.

When you go to kidnap the love of your life, you must dress appropriately, no? Now should I wear a formal suit or something casual?

I have some time and plenty to look forward to.

AA.

Like always, early as usual, Jack is waiting for you below your apartment. You see his car from the window and light up at once.

It’s been two months since the incident on the train. Jack insisted you go to the police when you confided in him a week after the fact. But what could they do? A story isn’t evidence. Evidence is evidence. So to combat that, you’ve avoided public transport altogether. Jack drives you to and from work and anywhere else you need to go. You never knew him very well before this mess, and you regret not starting a friendship sooner. He’s everything you need right now: a friend, a listener, and someone you can trust and rely on.

Like always, he unlocks the door so you can put your things in the back. “It’s my turn to treat for lunch today, so let’s go somewhere you like.”

You shut the door and open the passenger side, sliding in seamlessly.

“There’s no need for that.”

Your heart skips. Your breath stumbles in your lungs. Your body tenses.

You finally look at the driver.

He’s wearing what appears to be an expensive collared shirt with a tie, but the top half is covered by the soft hoodie he’s thrown on over it. He has a mask like before, but there’s no denying his eyes. Bright and blue, deep and deceptive like the ocean, they blink back at you.

The door locks with a click.

You throw yourself at it in a useless effort to escape. The masked stranger seizes your wrist. You scream.

“There’s no need to be afraid. I-It’s only me! I won’t hurt you.” He tugs his mask down to his chin so that you can see the wobbly smile on his face. “Please don’t be scared…”

“Let go of me, you pervert!” You rip your arm free and reach for the door once more. “What the hell are you doing here?! W-Where’s Jack? Why are you—”

You choke around the rest of your words when he wraps his arms around you and yanks you over the seat towards him. You kick out like a deranged animal, breathing heavy and frantic, your eyes darting to and fro. The stranger manages to manhandle you into a chokehold despite the struggle. With his arm wrapped around your neck, he grabs a plastic water bottle with his free hand. Clumsily, he unscrews the cap and presses the lip of the bottle to your mouth.

“I’m sorry for being so rough, but I need you to drink this. Can you do that for me? Drink all of it.” As he says this, he tips the bottle and the strange liquid fills your mouth. You fight against his hold, doing everything you can to resist. He tightens his grip on you, dragging your body closer to his. “Swallow it, or I’ll slit your throat.”

Against your will, very shakily, you gulp down the solution. It tastes bitter and vile like medicine. A little salty.

“I didn’t want to frighten you, my angel, but this is the only way you’ll listen.” He swipes the tear threatening to spill from your eye. “You don’t have to cry. I’ll take you home and keep you safe. Just drink the rest of this and take a nap until we get there. That’s it. You’re almost done. I know it’s disgusting, but you have to drink it all, my love.”

“Why…” you sputter, coughing. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” He blinks at you as if the answer is obvious. “Because I love you.”

You can’t understand the logic there. You don’t want to.

Slumping against the seat, boneless and disturbed, you tremble when he leans over to buckle you in. And you continue to do so until you’re pulled into sleep.

Two blue eyes follow you in your dreams, sticking to your body like old gum under a school desk. In sleep, you feel his hands on you—clinging and cloying like tentacles and the stench of brine, all-enveloping.

entry 179: 24 September, 20XX.

Summer is winding to a close. The last few vestiges of warmth are slipping away. Today’s weather was crisp. Autumn is approaching.

It’s been a difficult few months. I’ve catalogued my process in the time you’ve spent with me, locked away in our bedroom. I must keep you chained to the bed for the time being. It’s long enough to lead into the bathroom. Until I can trust you, this is the arrangement at present.

They’re still searching for you, albeit not as frantically and frequently. I hope they assume you’ve met some grisly end so that I can finally shelve that anxiety and move on with my life. While I’m relieved it wasn’t as messy as I thought it’d be, I’m just a touch disheartened. I would have loved to watch the light fade from that guard’s eyes.

But that just wasn’t feasible or smart. Besides, what else am I to use my current fortune for, if not the props needed for that day? You call it kidnapping, and while that term is technically true I prefer something sweeter. A reunion of sorts.

There’s nothing of note to discuss. You haven’t accepted your new home or me yet, so I will continue to wait. I can be patient. I must be if this relationship is going to work (and it will).

I don’t particularly believe in soulmates. Rather, I find the concept to be foolish. Fate does not dictate an entire life. It is the decisions you make along the way that shape your paths. Just like in my favorite board game. I’d like to play it with you. Although I must admit I already know how our life goes. I have a few routes in mind.

You look at me with such scalding contempt when I imply we ought to start a family, and even though I’ve been victim to that look so many times it doesn’t burn any less. You just can’t see how good this is for you yet.

What else are we to do with our time if not use it to fill quiet halls with the pitter-patter of tiny feet? I have a few names in mind, but for now we’ll take it one day at a time. I’m a patient man despite my temper.

AA.

entry 257: 11 December, 20XX.

Exciting news! Though it may seem small, we’ve reached an understanding. Or so I suspect. You’re not so averse to me anymore. In fact, we take baths together, eat meals together, watch TV together, play board games together… There are so many things we do together as a couple and so, despite the encroaching winter frost, my days have become warmer! Just last night you allowed me to sleep beside you on our bed, and I held you close and you kissed me and I felt like the luckiest man alive.

Finally! Genuine progress!

I won’t delude myself and say that you may finally love me in the way I love you, but a start is a start. I admit I couldn’t help myself. I returned your kiss tenfold, all over your face, down the column of your throat to your collarbone. I was gentle and careful. I didn’t rush.

I like to play experienced in all fields, but even I can’t act perfectly. How should I describe our first time without all of the shameless vulgarity? Perhaps it doesn’t matter. Sex is sex no matter how you try to embellish it. Filthy and imperfect, sweaty and sticky, more effort and exercise than I realized.

You pulled me in close, pursued my mouth with the same want in mine, and it was more cathartic than anything I’ve ever known. Oh, to be kissed by the love of your life! I wasn’t aware such joy existed.

You palmed me through my pajamas and told me you wanted a family—that the idea of raising a little one was perfectly charming. I admit it’s an alluring thought I’ve had long before you lived with me. I’ve always thought you would look very enchanting while pregnant. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself. Even though it isn’t official yet, it doesn’t hurt to call myself your husband. In my mind and heart, we’re married. It may not seem so to you yet, but it will be.

Back to the matter at hand. Hearing that you wanted a child with me made me happy. I can’t remember if I cried. I must have because you pulled me in close and you, lying beneath me, wiped at my face and told me you wanted me to give you a child. And who am I if not the most doting, most benevolent husband? I’d do anything for you.

This must be what a predator feels when they tear into prey: a rapture so absolute and all-consuming that it covers their brain like a cotton shroud and renders every other action a hazy instinct.

It was a blur even though I was sure I moved slowly. Clothes weren’t exactly shucked. They were in the way and we had a singular goal, far too focused to remove them completely. Thus, they were pulled up, down, to the side, in whichever way provided easiest access. I closed my hands around your breasts and they feel so much softer without the obstruction of clothes.

Perhaps, rather than humans, we’re just anglerfish. Hungry for each other, using the other, a voracious relationship full of mutual benefits. If I could, I’d love to live inside you. I want nothing more than to press myself close enough to feel your heart beat alongside mine. To feel rushing blood. To turn myself inside-out just to satisfy you. Give you every little thing I can offer—brain and body—and we’d cleave through sunless waters as one, together forever.

The word ‘love’ is not large enough to truly encapsulate all that I feel for you.

My forehead pressed to yours. You kissed me once. I felt sloppy. I was sloppy. Inexperienced. We both are. Your hand wrapped around me. I told you it was okay, to do it at your own pace, to tell me if it hurts. But you kissed my every anxiety away, and in just a few strokes we were connected. Perhaps I died then and I’m still dead now.

Maybe I’m writing this from the moon or the deep, dark sea. Maybe all of this is just a long dream and I’m not even human. Maybe I’m the anglerfish stuck to your side, latched on with my sharp teeth, our lives forever intertwined. You taste of fruit and blood and every beautifully painful thing in this world.

For the first time in the many months we’ve lived together, you called me by my name. You gasped it as you curled your legs around my waist and clung to my chest, your arms draped over my neck, nails in my back. You chanted it like a song. I must have done the same with yours.

However, no amount of carnal euphoria can change the fact that I still have my reservations about unchaining you.

A deliberation for another day. It’s time to cook dinner. I’ve improved lots in the time we’ve known each other. You help around the kitchen as well. Harmless things like stirring batter or mixing a salad. I can’t trust you with actual food prep for reasons I’m sure are obvious and understandable. I try to create balanced meal plans. Now that I’m no longer eating alone and surviving off of misery, I want to show you that I’m both a great chef and a conscientious eater.

AA.

You watch the seasons shift outside the bedroom window and there’s nothing you can do.

You live life chained like a prisoner and there’s nothing you can do.

You eat off paper plates with the same utensils made for toddlers and there’s nothing you can do.

You let the same man whose touch was once so covetous pet you all over with his hands and mouth and there’s nothing you can do.

You’re stuck here forever and there’s nothing you can do.

There are highs higher than the clouds and then there are lows lower than the sea. You oscillate between these temperaments, a body thrown around on rocky waves. How you’ve yet to sink and drown for good, you’re not sure.

Today’s low has brought Azul to his knees. You stand over him, gripping the knife in a shaky hold. Chopped vegetables scatter in a rainbow on the floor. He had been chopping them so methodically, so wrapped up in pleasant conversation with you, that he hadn’t been expecting the retaliation. The blade is freshly sharpened. The perfect weapon. The perfect opportunity. Freedom just after this final hurdle.

Freedom that comes with its burdens—with a child and the law and the media and… And then what? A life of loneliness. A life spent working through mountains of trauma. A life in which you can never look at the train again.

Two blue eyes blink up at you. For the first time, Azul looks scared and weak—a small, pitiful thing. For the first time, you have him trapped beneath your thumb.

You want to bring the knife down and put an end to these cyclical days. You want to crush his spirits in the same way he crushed yours. You want him to know pain so brutal it rots him from the inside.

But you can’t. You want to and in an ideal scenario devoid of fear you would. But you can’t.

You dig your heel palms into your eyes and sob. “I can’t! I’m sorry. I… I can’t do it!”

Azul deflates with a deep sigh. “Oh… Oh, my angel, it’s all right. I forgive you. You’re just a little confused. A little emotional—I get it. We all have emotional moments. I’m not upset.”

“But I—I almost… I was going to—”

“You didn’t. You didn’t, my love, and that’s what matters.”

He beckons you to his height; you lower to your knees. The knife is still clutched in your hands. He looks between it and you, as if weighing which is more dangerous. Volatile emotions or a blade. Maybe both.

Azul wraps his arms around you and rubs your back consolingly. “It’s okay. I’m not angry.”

You sniffle, but the tears won’t stop flowing. “Still… I almost did such a horrible thing to you. I could’ve hurt you—k-killed you!”

“My dear, it’s okay.” He kisses the top of your head, tucking you beneath his chin. “I forgive you.”

Your fingers tighten around the handle. “You do?”

“I do. I always will.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Angel—”

You turn the sharpened point inwards and slam it into his side, just below his rib. It pierces through soft flesh. You pull away just in time to see hurt and betrayal flash across his face, hot like the tears you’re now drying.

Shakily, his movements unsteady, he reaches for the handle. His fingers dance across it, assessing the reality of the situation. You stabbed him. You did it.

He hisses through his teeth when he tears it out. Blood spatters the kitchen floor in a brilliant, vermillion arc. Azul, knife in hand, staggers to his feet and lunges.

You stumble away in a blind panic.

“How dare you…” He clutches his side with one hand while the other slashes through the air. You narrowly dodge before the knife can slice your arm. Blood seeps through Azul’s shirt, staining his palm red. His expression is twisted in a dark concoction of agony and anger. “I’ve shown you nothing but love and care… I’ve been nothing but patient. I’ve done everything! You were beginning to warm up to me—to this life—our life! I was wrong to trust you. Get back here—”

“You’re crazy! You assaulted me, kidnapped me, threatened me! Do you really think I’d love you after all of that?!” You yelp when his slick, blood-stained fingers wrap around your wrist to drag you down. “Stop! Let go of me!”

You elbow him in the ribs, which causes a shockwave of pain to travel through him, and it gives you enough time to wriggle free. Ripping your arm from his hold, you try to get away when he, aiming to subdue you, grabs hold of your ankle next. You feel the blade sink into your calf before you see it. A terrible cry frays your throat, torn from the depths of your chest like a flower pried from the soil.

“If I’m going to die…” He flops to his knees, wheezing. “If I’m going to die, you’ll die with me.”

“Like hell I will!” you hiss through your teeth, thrashing wildly.

Stupidly, you pull the knife from where it’s wedged in. Blood spurts from the wound, trickling down your leg in a thick, steady stream. You wince and limp towards the door. Closer… You’re almost there.

Azul reaches out with a bloodied hand, his expression utterly shattered. “Wait… Don’t go any further. Please… I need you. We need each other. My angel, my love, please don’t go!”

You tear your eyes away. He’s a monster. You’ll never sympathize with him.

Just before you can get to the front door, Azul picks himself up and wraps his arms around your waist. He pulls you down and your head hits the floor with a harsh smack. You see stars. The ceiling spins above you. You try to get up, crawl away, escape—whatever it takes to lose him—but he clings to your side, holding tight. His blood is warm and wet against your shirt. The pain in your calf is sparking up your leg, joining the ache at the back of your head in duet.

Pressed so closely, the flow of blood slows. Your shirt soaks up what the rest of his already drenched shirt can’t hold.

You watch the ceiling. The light looks like a halo; it shines brightly. Azul blinks up at you, hopelessly, sickly enthralled. The tip of the knife prods at your stomach. If it pierces, you don’t feel it. You’re sore all over. Bruises are already beginning to bloom.

At the bottom of the sea, clothed in frigid darkness, there is no sense of direction.

That’s the sweetest relief while you wade into unconsciousness with a parasitic angler.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul #yandere azul x reader #tw: noncon touching #tw: noncon #tw: chikan #n/sfw #tw: stalking

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normansnt · 9 months ago

Text

Almost got you, bitch

(Hazbin Adam x fallen angel!Male reader)

No warnings I think perhaps cursing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a fallen angel.

You questioned heavens doings after finding out about the extermination, and of course heaven didn't like that.

When you fell, your best friend, Adam, was the most pissed off. Granted he was the one who told you about it one night when he was drunk and you had to get him home but he didn't know you were gonna make such a fuss about it.

You were in heaven, everything was fine you had your friends there, no one important to you fell before you, and most importantly you had him there, your best friend. Why would you care about those misfits in hell??

All though he shouldn't have been surprised, even though you put on a hard shell and make very similar jokes than himself you are a kind soul, a very kind one at that always helping others. But still, you fell, you are not here with him anymore. That sucked.

*flashback*

Heaven was a pretty new invention and adam and eve were trying to settle, for that god sent an angel, you.

When you knocked on the door adam went to open it.

"Who the fuck is here this early?" Was the first sentence he ever spoke to you.

Now you aint gonna take shit from nobody.

"Im the fuck who is here get you asses moving cuz we're going to heaven" you said with an equally annoyed tone.

Thats when Adam knew he liked you. And with the same amount of sass to each other the two of you became fast friends.

"I Almost got you, bitch" yelled Adam. You guys were playing flying tag cuz he just got his wings and they were completely new to him.

"You wish, fucker" you answer with a shit eating smirk. You were the one to teach him how to fight, the one who helped him through his divorce withe eve, you were his best friend.

*end flashback*

"...Shit" adam called seraphim, an idea occurred to him, how about they move up the next extermination, that way he has a reason to get down there sooner and bring you back, also slather some demons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up in hell, the first thing you saw was someone trying to cut out your organs.

"WAAHH...MOTHERFUC-- WHAT THE HECK R U DOING??" You jumped up and started yelling at the demon.

"Calm down pretty boy, the cannibals pay good money for fresh organs like yours."

"Well guess what jackass I dont give tiny rats ass how good those fuckers pay you my organs aint for sale" and with that sentence you quickly kicked him in the nuts and when he fell to the ground brocke his neck. Yeah...you were kind but god help people who mess with you...literally.

"Well shit, never had to fight without wings."

"...Interesting, and here I thought I would have to come to your rescue in exchange for your soul." Came a...static voice from behind you.

"Uhhh...thank you?? I guess, but there will be no taking my soul." You looked at the grinning man in a red suit.

"Such a shame, you'd be my first fallen angel"

"...Ok, listen can I help you with something ooooorr??"

"Not particularly I just wanted your soul, but alas that ship has sailed, however since you just fell I assume you have no where to stay" his grin stretched a bit as he said that.

"Well, you assume correctly but Im not gonna agree to any deal you have to offer just for a place to stay"

"Well, well, you are smart one even though angles can be so gullible, but no there is no deal the only thing you'd have to do is perhaps act nice"

"I can do that." you answered finally smiling at the strange man.

"They are coming" you whispered to yourself. After you arrived in hell, Alastor offered you a place in the hazbin hotel and you were happy to take it. This was over 7 months ago, in that time you grew close to everyone who was there, they were your found family and now you will protect them even if its against you first family.

Today was the day of the extermination, the day you'd have to fight heaven, the day you's have yo fight Adam. Even though you never admitted to yourself you had deeper feelings for him than friendship, but since he literally went around fucking bitches that kind of lowered your hopes.

The fight was raging on. Since you were the one who literally trained these exorcists they were no match for you. However Alastor was supposed to take on Adam, and that worried you. You knew how powerful Alastor is supposed to be but you have seen Adam's powers first hand.

Just as you suspected Alastor couldn't take on Adam. So Charlie had to take over which made you even more worried. You climbed up and saw Adam hitting Charlie into the hazbin hotel sign.

"NO" you yelled

Adam turned towards you with a smile that said he was ready to kill, that disappeared however when he saw that it was you.

"(Y/N)...."

He looked at you for a moment when someone punched him out of no where.

"Oh shit" you said while looking at Adam flying away and than back at who punched him. Lucifer.

"Lucy?" U asked baffled. You met him when he was still in heaven. Personally you loved his creative ideas while the making of earth so you guys would talk a lot. You also found it highly unfair when he fell and considered going after him, but Adam held you back.

"...Who--? SHIT (Y/N)? Omg why tf are you down here??" He asked half pissed half happy to see you.

"Well a little this, a little that, you know, also I fucking fell so." You replied while hugging him.

"How many of you fuckers do I have to beat before I can take (Y/N) home with me" said Adam very pissed after crawling out from the window he was punched into.

"What?" You asked

"I'm the only one that matters, you messed with my daughter and now Im gonna fuck you" said Lucifer proudly smirking. Everyone went silent while you were trying to hold back your laughter.

"Khmm...its fuck you up, dad" corrected Charlie

"Wait what did I say?" Asked Lucifer confused.

After this a kind of...fight started between Lucifer and Adam. Well, only adam was fighting Lucifer was mostly changing forms.

It was quite funny to watch.

At the end Lucifer won over Adam and he wanted to kill him, but your body moved on its own and you threw yourself at Adam.

Charlie also told his dad to stop.

You stood up from Adams body.

"Take your angel army, and go home" you told him in a soft tone.

He painfully stood up and looked at you with sadness...and something you couldn't quite place.

"(Y/N)..." come with me, please. Is what he wanted to say, but he knew you are still mad at him and that your answer will be no. Or he just didn't want to seem vulnerable in-front of demons.

"I Almost got you, bitch"

Your lips twitched upwards a little bit.

"You wish, fucker"

And with that the angel army and adam flew up to heaven.

When adam arrived in heaven, something downed on him.

"Fuuuuuuckkk..IM GAY-"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is he an (at best) mid white man who thinks he is the shit?

Yes.

Is he a fucking loser though and a lil bitch

Also yes.

BUT YK WHAT.

HE IS FUNNY AF I LOVE HIM AND HIS SONGS R FUCKING AWSOME.

HOPE MY FELLOW ADAM ENJOYERS LIKED IT THOUGH😎

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

#male reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #male y/n #hazbin adam #adam x reader #gay fanfiction

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daphwritesworld · 8 days ago

Note

Hiii can you write something about Alessia and reader being rivals and are playing for separate National Teams Like reader plays as an Example for Germany (you don't have to do Germany but would be cool) and they get into an Argument but it ends up in sex

Please dom Alessia

(this is my first time requesting something so my explaining is really baddd)

a/n: hii!! thank you for requesting ! and no your totally fine. i’m pretty sure i understand exactly what you meant from your description :D

A.Russo x Rival!Reader

content: pussy eating (technically both receiving), fingering (r receiving), dom/sub relationship, Germany! player reader, bratty! reader, top!Alessia, bottom!reader

warnings: some impact play mentioned but not in detail, orgasm denial, overstimulation, 69ing, dom!lessi deserves her own warning tbh , enemies-2-fucking like animals, semi public for like a smidge

synopsis: You run your mouth in the locker room so Alessia walks you like a dog…your own fault really.

word count: 1.9k

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥♠♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s the 2022 UEFA WOMEN’S EURO FINALS. You’re the last one left in Germany’s locker room, the final score ringing up to 2 v 1. You’d scored your teams only goal for the night, but still you were the one to take the loss the hardest. Your team knew to leave you alone when you got like this— all in your head and self blaming.

As your untying your last cleat you hear the door reopen behind you. You’re left clad in just your shorts, sports bra, and socks now that you throw the shoe off towards the floor. “I told you I don’t want to go to the fucking bar, Lena!” Your voice barks out across the room.

“Oh so feisty, aren’t you, love?” The familiar accent rings out from behind you. You swear you can hear the smirk in her voice as she says it, anger boiling up inside you as you clench your fists.

“What are you doing here, Russo? Came to gloat about a game you didn’t even score in? Give Walsh and Kelly my respects, considering they at least earned it,” you whip around. A little caught off guard at how close she is, but it doesn’t stop you from letting the fury spit out of your mouth like venom on your tongue.

“You must still be mad you missed that goal when you shot wide. Could’ve at least tied us up, you know. Was it me tackling you or the fact i kept stealing the ball that got into that thick head of yours? Seems like i’m the only one who can get through that thing,” she flicks a finger onto your forehead as she ends her little rant. A small smile sitting devilishly pretty on her lips as she does so.

You go push at her chest, puffing out a huff of hot air through your angrily scrunched up nostrils. She lets your fists come down one time, then she’s grabbing your wrists and pinning them down onto the lockers behind you. You’re stuck struggling between her warm body and the freezing cold surface that she’s got you pressed up against.

“I’m not one of your little punching bags, Y/L/N. You put your hands on me again, and I promise you it’ll be the last time. I’m not gonna deal with your little tantrums like your team does. Be a big girl and take the heat, or i’ll treat you the way brats deserve to be treated,” Her body is flush against yours as she says it, a threatening gaze shooting out to meet yours.

“You don’t scare me, Russo. You’re like a puppy dog who’s never had its tail stepped on. So wide eyed and bushy tailed—“ you yank one of your hands from her grasp as you point a finger towards her chest and start moving it forwards, “like a little bitc—“ you’re cut off as she flips your body around, face pressing into the cold lockers now as you feel her hand on the back of your neck keeping you in place.

“You need to learn some fucking manners, baby. It’s a good thing we’ve got plenty of time to teach you some,” She says right against your back. Her breath tickling your nape as the tiny hairs there stand up straight.

It’s a blur from there to her hotel room. She threw her hoodie over your head before dragging you out of there, putting you into her car before speeding off into the night. Now she’s got you spread wide open, legs out as she devours on your cunt.

Your wrists are handcuffed to the railing on her headboard and a blindfold covers your tear drenched eyes. You’ve got red marks on your ass from her spanking lesson from the first 20 minutes inside her luxury room. The plush Egyptian cotton percale sheets soothing the burn on your cheeks.

Her hands keep your hips pinned down as her tongue slides down to your hole, it twitches under her ministrations. Begging for her to pay it some attention after all the orgasms she’s denied you. It’s at least been three so far. She pulls away at the slightest hint you might be close, leaving you to shake and cry out even harder than the last time.

The mean words that have been tumbling from your mouth now turning into whines and whimpers of “Please!” and “M’sorry Less!”

You can’t see it, but she’s smirking up at you. You feel the vibrations from her laugh though, as it courses up through to your clit. A ragged moan rips out of your mouth at the feeling, sending you into a fit of pleasure.

“L-Lessi! I-I’ll do anything. Just please le-lemme cum!” you’ve got a majority of the blindfold covered in one big wet spot now from all the tears it’s absorbed. Your wrists are red from pulling at your restraints, and Alessia is finally starting to think she’s breaking you down enough to reward you. You’re being so sweet now, saying please and thank you. And who could resist that little pout on your lips as you cry? It’s absolutely fucking addictive. Or at least it is to Alessia, as she takes out her phone and snaps a quick picture to remember this moment.

Her hands come down to softly start taking the handcuffs off, her lips following suit as they litter little kisses along the red lines surrounding them. When she’s done enough of that to her liking she moves to the piece of silk tied around your face, undoing the knot as she peels if off your wet little cheeks. You look up her with those submissive teary eyes and she can’t help the groan that comes out of her throat.

The need to see you like this— so broken, has been overtaking her ever since the first time she played against you. Every game after that one the tension grew, on and off pitch. Until now, where it’s finally bubbled over and taken the forefront of both your minds. That tough girl exterior you put up is completely gone as she has you begging for her touch, a nice little slut ready for her unraveling.

She’s got you right where she’s wanted you, underneath her and at her mercy. She lowers herself down, prying one of your legs up as she lifts it over her shoulder and leans down towards your neck, making you whine from the stretch she forces you into in this position. Your thigh burns but it’s soon forgotten about as her fingers start playing with your folds.

“Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours, Lessi! It’s yours.”

She chuckles at your obedience. So, so different from the same girl she was arguing with her in the locker room not even two hours ago. So she finally decides to play nice and sinks two of her fingers into your pussy. She goes slow, letting you get use to her before going at the pace she prefers.

“Such a pretty pussy on such a pretty girl. Too bad your attitude is so fucking nasty,” it’s rasped out into your ear as you start trying to push your hips into her fingers. Your head pulls back from her shoulder, her teeth pulling your earlobe as you move away. You whimper out at that, eyes looking up into hers pleading for some relief.

“Don’t worry, you can cum this time. Such a desperate whore, aren’t you?” She says it as she speeds her fingers up, her thumb coming to rub tight circles on your clit as her fingers work you up. They’re so much thicker and longer than yours— reaching spots you can only dream of touching by yourself. She’s got you so fucked out you don’t even know what color the wallpaper is.

All you see, taste, hear, and smell is her. You’re drowning in the cocktail of Alessia Russo. The woman who drives you crazy every time you have to be opposite of her on the pitch. You two attract like flies to honey. Sweet, but deadly. It’s always rough and a good game when you two are against each other, but holy fuck you never knew you could feel so good. You two came together in a moment of pure adrenaline, your tension finally boiling over as the emotions from the game did as well.

You both know this is just the beginning. A long list of mistakes you’ll make every time you seem to cross paths now. Like a ritual— no matter who wins or loses. You’ll seek out this form of retribution after a game.

“Alessia! I-I’m go-gonna-“ you can’t even get it out as your mind starts to shatter. You’re drooling out of the corner of your mouth as she fucks every coherent thought out of your brain.

“Go ahead, love. Cum on my fingers for me. Make a mess— just like that. Good fucking girl,” and just like that your eyes snap shut as they roll into the back of your skull. Your back arches off the expensive sheets, as your pussy starts shooting liquid out into Alessia’s palm. You cover your face, cheeks heating up with embarrassment at the squirt staining her sheets below you.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t even know I could do that— I swear!!”

Alessia moans out loud at that, her hands coming up to rip yours away from your eyes. A hungry lust crawling back inside of them. “Are you saying, i’m the first person to make you squirt?”

Your cheeks somehow go even redder as you bite your lip, avoiding her gaze as you shake your head yes in confirmation. The next thing to know you’re on your back. Alessia hovering over you as she climbs up your body. When her thighs make it to your head she quickly turns over, smirk covering her face as she looks down at you from upside down, “Then let’s see what else I can be the first to do to you.”

Your eyes go wide as you realize what she’s about to do. Holy fuck Alessia is going to 69 with you. How the fuck does she know you've never done this?? You have no clue, but before you have time to open your mouth and ask her, she’s sinking her pussy down onto your face. Your tongue seeks out her taste on instinct, your nose bumping into her clit as your eyes rollback.

She moans into your cunt once again, fingertips lightly drawing across your thighs as they shake from the overstimulation.

You know you’re going to falling asleep here, and that your teammates are going to interrogate the fuck out of you tomorrow morning, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when she feels this good and tastes so divine. Hell no! You’re staying right here, consequences and teasing be damned. You’re determined to learn the complete complexity of her lessons, and ace the next test she decides to give you…in whatever shape or form that way be in. Lord help your neighbors, and the poor arsenal teammate who roomed under Alessia. They sure as hell have a good story for the group chat tomorrow.

For now, she is desperately trying to drown out the straight up porn pouring in from upstairs. She tried the radio, the tv, and now a combo of both with two pillows sandwiching her head between them. Praying that you two will be tired after this round…you weren’t.

#a.russo 23 #woso fanfics #woso smut #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #woso writers #alessia russo smut #alessia russo x y/n #asks.daph

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purple-babygirl · 7 months ago

Text

in the far corner of the forest III

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: hand injury, mentions of blood, wound sutures/stitches, angry behaviour, jealousy, fighting, crying, racism against orcs. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part yet because it might take me a while with part 4 depending on how the very important interview i have on the 17th goes. please send me good wishes on the stars if possible i would really appreciate it. And please enjoy this one and let me know what you thought if you can xx💜💜

“I got you something, little human,” Bucky said, his tone softer than it was that same afternoon as he scratched the back of his head.

He was new to courting, and it wasn’t exactly normal that he was courting his already-wife. Still, he was doing everything possible.

Bucky’s life has all been about fighting and wars. He didn’t do love or courtship. He didn’t do coddling or romancing. But there was a first time for everything and he was trying his best.

“Thank you,” she replied without looking up, pretending to be focused on folding laundry.

She was ignoring him.

Bucky had let his voice get loud a couple of hours ago after he had found her lost in the forest again. Only this time her foot was already messed up and she needed the rest, but she wouldn’t listen.

It hurt him how much pain she was willing to go through if it meant she could get away from him, but he wouldn’t let it show.

Instead, he yelled in frustration as he brought her back to their cottage.

She seemed like she wouldn’t quit, and so he wasn’t going to quit either.

Despite her constant rejection, Bucky refused to give up, his determination fueled by a newfound sense of purpose. He was willing to endure anything, face anything, if it meant earning even a glimmer of acceptance, or even affection, from her.

“You didn’t even see what I got you,” Bucky tried again, hoping she would at least look at him.

When she did, he gave a tiny smile and walked to the cottage door, bringing something inside.

“Here.” He dragged in a shiny wooden chair and placed it before his on their small dining table.

“You bought me a chair,” she said, pretending to be uninterested to hide the warmth that just spread throughout her heart.

“I made you a chair,” Bucky corrected, proudly palming the smooth wood, swiping his tongue over his tusks.

Bucky knew gifts were an essential part of courting and he didn’t like how she had to eat on the bed while he ate alone on the dining table because he only owned one chair.

He knew his days as a loner were long gone and it made his heart swell that he had her to share his house and life with now.

So he got to work and decided to make her her own chair out of an old oak tree. Being a lumberjack who had a woodworking shop had its perks after all.

It was going to be a weekend surprise, but he thought now was better timing after the fight they just had.

“You— you made this? From scratch?” She stood up in surprise, laundry forgotten for now.

“Yes.”

“For me?” She asked, not able to hide her emotions at the kind gesture anymore.

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckled, taking a step back so she could examine the chair.

She sat down and a big smile found its way on her lips when she looked up at Bucky. The chair was comfy and new and hers.

No one has ever gotten her anything, let alone made her something so beautiful. It was so special and a flood of emotions washed over her at the idea that someone had actually thought of her enough to make her a chair. That Bucky had made her a chair.

“Thank you,” she whispered, breaking eye contact so that she wouldn’t tear up.

Bucky only nodded in reply, internally celebrating the win with his heart doing backflips. She liked the chair.

She stood up and closed the small distance between her and the orc, getting on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, “welcome home.”

She quickly put the clean laundry in its place in the closet and went to the kitchen to start dinner, leaving Bucky with the most idiotic smile on his face as he shifted back and forth on his feet like a teenager.

She was punishing him for yelling at her by not making dinner, but that chair and the effort behind it deserved a good meal.

She was cleaning up after dinner later that night when she heard Bucky moving stuff outside. She didn’t pay it much mind; it was his house after all.

“Come outside, little human,” his voice called for her and she tentatively stepped out of the kitchen.

Bucky was standing by the open cottage door, a hopeful smile on his face as he encouragingly nodded for her to come over to him.

She didn’t know what to think, but any chance not to stay cooped up inside the cottage was going to receive a yes from her.

It wasn’t like she was ungrateful. She was certainly thankful she had a roof over her head and warm walls that she could hide inside from the rain and the cold.

But again, her situation wasn’t the most ideal either. If it was up to her, she would have stayed at the orphanage with the rest of the girls because if her fate was drawn for her to be an isolated orc’s wife, she didn’t want to be married.

When she stepped outside, however, marriage and Bucky didn’t seem that bad for a second.

“I thought we could watch the stars now that the sky was clear,” Bucky explained, internally nervous that she might call him ridiculous and refuse to sit with him.

He had waited for a day without rain and laid out a thick blanket on the ground before their cottage, the way lit for her feet by a close by lantern he had put out.

She was enthralled, mouth open and breath stolen. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of joy and disbelief engulfing her.

Bucky has even went as far as bringing out the shawl he had gotten her just in case she felt cold.

It was just like… a date.

Her heart raced and she smiled shyly at the orc, making him smile too as he watched her sit down on the blanket, holding her knees to her as she glanced up at the night sky nervously.

She has never been on a date before in her life, the town’s boys always picking other girls from the orphanage to fool around with, but never her. She was never really anyone’s type.

She slightly shook her head to shut down her insecure thoughts, knowing that none of those player town boys could have ever brought her on a date like this.

“Is the ground too cold?” Bucky asked as he draped her shawl over her shoulders.

She hugged the soft material around her body, smiling gratefully at the orc as she shook her head.

She was too shy to even speak at this point, her mind barely registering the amazingly romantic end to her day that Bucky had brought into existence.

Bucky then laid down on his back, wordlessly urging her to do the same.

She got on her back, eyes mesmerized by the sight of the stars. She has never seen so many before, her view from her room’s window at the orphanage was very limited.

It was different here in the middle of the woods because there were no town lights to take the view away from the sky and it was gorgeous.

“So beautiful,” she whispered with a smile, observing how the stars sparkled above them.

“Yes, the most beautiful,” Bucky whispered back, watching her as she watched the sky.

He wished she could one day look at him the same way she was looking at those stars; the same way he was looking at her.

In his eyes, there was a mix of determination and yearning, reflecting his unwavering commitment to win her heart despite her initial reluctance. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, drinking in every detail as if he couldn’t believe she was really here, right next to him.

She turned her eyes to him, her shy smile widening, “thank you for this, Bucky.”

Gods, the way she said his name was something else.

“You’re welcome, sweet thing.” Bucky smiled back, turning his eyes back to the sky as to not make her uncomfortable under his stare.

As they silently continued stargazing, she felt her heart become lighter. She felt so serene, so content, and she had suddenly forgiven Bucky for raising his voice at her just hours ago, wanting nothing but for this peacefulness to last for as long as possible.

Was it imaginable for marriage to be this good? Could her life finally be turning around?

She couldn’t help but want to see Bucky in a different light in this very moment.

She knew that he was harsh sometimes, but she also knew that she wasn’t making it easy for him either.

Maybe she didn’t choose him and didn’t choose this marriage, but Bucky was trying with real effort and she wasn’t blind to it.

Bucky cared for her when she was sick. He provided for her. He brought her gifts, filled up her half of the closet for her with anything and everything she could need. And he, most importantly, apologized when he was in the wrong, which wasn’t something common for the human males of this kingdom. He also respected her boundaries and hadn’t tried touching her after their first night together.

Could this all be preparation for the purpose of bedding?

No, it couldn’t be. Bucky didn’t need to do this to get her in his bed. He had already had her there and he had willingly let her go. He could have his way with her anytime if he really wanted to.

She wanted to believe that this moment was real so bad. She wanted to believe that Bucky was trying to win her heart.

So she did.

And if Bucky was trying, she was going to start trying too.

She knew just the thing to do actually.

She was going to make Bucky strawberry jam tomorrow to show him how grateful she was.

She might have not much to offer, but she knew she made the most delicious fruit jams and marmalades. It was her specialty at the orphanage. All the other girls always managed to ruin the jams, adding too much or too little sugar, applying too much heat or not enough, eventually producing something inedible. But not her. No, that was one thing she knew with her whole heart that she was good at.

She might’ve not been the prettiest of the girls, but she deserved a good life and she was now determined to build one. With Bucky.

She wasn’t in love with him, she knew that, but she didn’t need love to have a good marriage. Respect and effort were going to be enough.

This marriage could be her chance at building a life worth living.

“Could you bring home some strawberries tomorrow?”

“Oh my gods, this is amazing!” Bucky exclaimed, sliding another spoonful of strawberry jam in his mouth.

“I’m happy you like it,” she replied proudly, a smile plastered on her timid features as she brought a basket of sliced bread to the table.

It felt so good to have someone other than the orphanage girls taste her hand’s making. Receiving Bucky’s praise felt so much different than all the compliments she’s ever received before.

It felt… way better.

“It’s really good, little human.” Bucky was too busy adding jam on the piece of bread in his hand, groaning as he slipped it into his mouth and chewed, “how much of this did you make?”

She laughed, “well, I wanted to start with a small pot because I didn’t know if you liked jam and I didn’t wanna throw out any of it, but we have enough if you finish this and want more!”

“None of this is getting thrown out, little human,” Bucky told her seriously, “I asked because I wanted to take some to Sarah. She has a sweet tooth and she would love this.”

A frown quickly replaced her smile at the mention of another female’s name. She suddenly felt like wanting to take the bowl of jam away from the orc. Hell, she felt like she wanted to get back the jam he had already ate and swallowed.

“Who’s Sarah?” She asked, trying to act nonchalant as she greased her bread with some jam.

“She’s Sam’s sister,” Bucky answered innocently, oblivious to the way she hummed with her jaw clenched.

“And who’s Sam?”

“Oh, right, you don’t know Sam. He’s my best friend; and my partner in the shop. Great guy,” Bucky told her, more interested in the jam than her reaction.

At least Sam was a male.

So just to be clear, Bucky wanted to take the jam she made to his best friend’s sister so she could have a taste and satisfy her sweet tooth? Yeah, she didn’t like that very much.

“Is she, like, married?” She wondered, trying hard not to show her anger.

“Who?” Bucky asked, chewing the bite in his mouth, the foreign question finally gaining his attention.

“Sweet tooth Sarah,” she answered with a somewhat bitter tone that Bucky has never heard before, her thumb swiping under his plump lips before she could stop herself as she harshly wiped away jam from the orc’s face.

The realization as to why her mood had suddenly turned sour made Bucky smile as he hurriedly swallowed his food, “little human,”

She looked up at him with a silent glare.

Despite her efforts to appear unaffected, there was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hint of insecurity betraying her true feelings

“Are you… jealous?”

Bucky’s amused smile made her even angrier as she watched his lips literally twitching.

Jealous? Pfft, of course not! Why would she be jealous!

“No!” She replied aloud defensively, “it was just a question.” She stood up, collecting the plates from the table without asking if Bucky was done eating.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Bucky laughed, holding onto the small bowl of jam.

“Try to save some for your Sarah,” she snapped, snatching her hand from the orc’s as she let him have the bowl.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her surprising reaction, his widening smile still glued to his face.

She frustratingly sped to the kitchen, violently twisting the water tab open as she rolled her sleeves up and started washing the things in the sink.

She had went through all this trouble and used all of these bowls that she now had to wash just for him to want to take her jam to another female to eat.

Who did he think he was?

It was her fault for trying to do something nice in the first place.

He didn’t even answer her question, and that Sarah was probably unmarried. She was probably an orc too. Yeah, it made sense that Bucky would be attracted to someone similar to him. Those two ‘friends’ were probably part of his clan.

The clan he never introduced her to.

How naive was she to think this marriage could actually work?

Bucky was outside still smiling to himself like a fool as he finished the rest of her sweet jam.

She was jealous. She was jealous over him.

He didn’t want to upset her though, so he didn’t say anything, letting her calm down first.

He took the empty bowl to her, setting it in the sink as she avoided looking at him.

She heard him chuckle as he left the kitchen and it made her punch the sponge in her hand inside the bowl, pounding it angrily as she ‘washed’ it clean.

When she was done cleaning the kitchen and brushing her teeth, she stomped out to the bed, getting in and covering herself from head to toe as she gave Bucky her back.

Bucky walked to the lanterns and dimmed their lights before joining her in bed.

He laid on his back, innocently waiting for his good night’s kiss.

A minute passed. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. The kiss didn’t come.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered as not to startle her in the dark, “we had a deal. Where’s my kiss?” He put a hopeful hand on her shoulder, trying to twist her to face him.

“Have Sarah give you your kiss,” she replied with a deadpan tone, masking her fury as she pushed her pillow over her head, shrugging Bucky’s touch off her body.

Bucky stared at the back turned to him with an open mouth as he took his hand away and laid back, disappointment replacing his surprise and filling him up.

It was the first time since she had started feeling well again that she has refused to give him any of his kisses. Yet, respectful of her feelings, Bucky let her.

Maybe making her jealous wasn’t all that fun after all. But he didn’t even mean to make her jealous, he was just talking!

Bucky sighed, turning on his side as well as he fell asleep staring at the hidden back of her head.

The next morning as she put his breakfast on the table, she didn’t sit or eat with him, preferring to scrub the kitchen sink while Bucky ate even though she had just washed it the night before.

She didn’t give him his good morning kiss either; didn’t even speak to him.

She was still mad at him. This was serious for her, he realized.

Bucky might have found it fun last night, but today as she deliberately ignored his existence, he wanted nothing but to make her understand that what was in her head was nothing like the truth.

“Here, I packed jam for your sweet tooth Sarah,” she said harshly as she set a small jar of strawberry jam on the table before him.

“She’s not my—”

“Hope she likes it,” she cut him off, disappearing into the kitchen again.

Bucky sighed aloud, running a hand over his face as he stood up. Grabbing the jam, he took one look at the kitchen entrance before leaving the house for work with a clenched jaw.

She peeked outside when she heard the door shut to see the table empty. Bucky had taken the jar to Sarah.

Oh, that was it.

She could take being given to an orc against her will. She could take never having been chosen or given the chance to choose. She could take not being loved.

But she couldn’t and wouldn’t take being cheated on.

Was that why Bucky had decided to relieve her off her wifely duties in bed? Because he had another female? Was it because he had someone else to keep him warm and wet where he needed to be?

She couldn’t even think about the idea without feeling herself gag.

Why would he ruin her life by bringing her here when he already had that Sarah?!

How could she be so dumb, trying to meet him in the middle like that? Starting a peaceful life with this orc was never going to work!

She tried to pick the lock on the door like she usually would, but the new lock Bucky had put in wouldn’t budge.

She groaned in frustration before hauling herself up and out of the cottage window, running off to gods know where, hoping that luck would be her friend for once and maybe lead her somewhere out of these woods for good this time.

This marriage ends today.

Back at the shop, Bucky was as exasperated as they come as he used his chisel to shape the rough piece of wood in his hand.

After everything he was doing, how could she think that he had someone else? What was he doing wrong? What was missing?

Bucky had only ever wanted her. He thought he was the luckiest orc just because he got to fall asleep next to her every night.

How could he make her see that?

As his mind ran with thoughts and before Bucky could stop it, the chisel slipped and sharply cut the inside of his palm.

“Gods, fuck!” He shouted in pain as blood started flowing from the fresh wound.

Bucky tried to get the chisel from the floor so that no one would step on it, but his hand hurt more when he tried to squeeze his fist around the item. He grabbed it with his metal hand instead, rushing to the supply closet to find a clean towel to wrap around his cut.

He couldn’t continue working like that; couldn’t do anything with his hand.

Sam insisted on sending for his sister after seeing the amount of blood staining the cloth around Bucky’s hand.

Sarah tried to be efficient while messily stitching the wound as best as she could, wrapping it up carefully with gauze before advising Bucky to take a few days off work until his hand was healed. She was no doctor but she did her best for her friend.

Bucky thanked both siblings, giving Sarah the jam jar before leaving to go back home as his friends insisted.

He thought that his day couldn’t get any worse, but then he opened the cottage door to find the place empty and he could all but forget about his injury as he slammed his fist against the wall, crying out in anger. If his wound had started bleeding again, Bucky didn’t care.

“What the hell did you think you were doing out there again?!”

Bucky was enraged. He had found her wandering around the forest, as lost and as stubborn as ever.

“Getting as far away from you as possible.” She crossed her arms, her stare upset and unbending.

“And going where exactly!” He shouted, the idea of her spending the night inside a cold cave clawing at his back.

“Anywhere but here!” She yelled back, her face so hot she could feel sweat forming on her hairline in the middle of winter.

“It’s going to snow soon! Do you wanna get sick again?” Bucky held her by the arm, not too roughly as he didn’t really want to cause any real damage.

Neither of them noticed his blood staining her clothes.

She was too infuriated to notice Bucky’s hand wrapped in gauze. She saw nothing but red.

“I don’t care. I just don’t wanna be with you!” She retorted, snatching her arm out of his hold and pushing at his chest.

Though he didn’t move, her touch too weak to do anything to his colossal body, Bucky was hurt.

“Are you doing all of this just because of a little jealousy? Gods, human females are just—” Bucky shook his head in frustration.

“Jealousy? Hah! You think I’m jealous?” She faked a laugh, “this is not even a real marriage! What’s there for me to be jealous over?!” She continued raising her voice, the mention of her jealousy provoking her further.

Her words hurt Bucky more, the real gash now slashed across his heart.

Not even a real marriage.

Despite everything he was doing and trying, she still didn’t consider their marriage a real marriage.

“Well, do you wanna make it real, little human?” Bucky growled lowly, bringing her closer to his heaving chest by her arm, painting the sleeve of her dress in more of his blood.

Her heart thrummed in her ears at the proximity, her breath trembling as she imagined what the orc could do to her if he only wanted to.

“Let go of me,” she whispered as tears clouded her vision, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear how scared she was in her voice.

Bucky complied, hating how nervous she got in the span of a second.

She ran to the kitchen at once, a hand on her chest as she felt her heart trying to escape her ribcage.

What an audacious orc! He was already with someone else and he dared threaten her with taking her to bed?! Damn, she was so stupid to think they could make something good out of this marriage. So stupid.

Bucky took a seat on the bed, face in his metal hand as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He had almost lost her for the millionth time today.

Was it going to be like this forever? What could he do to make it stop? How could he show her that this life with her was all he ever wanted? That he never wanted anybody else?

“You’re not gonna eat with me?” He asked when he saw her slam one bowl of rice on the table.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied curtly, her eyes on the ground and her jaw tense as she waited for him to get off the bed.

Bucky moved away understandably, taking a seat on the dining table instead as she climbed in bed, burying herself under the covers and hiding away from him.

Bucky knew she wasn’t asleep and he needed to talk to her; or at least see her face.

How was he supposed to have an appetite to eat if she wasn’t on the table with him, her beautiful eyes facing him and her shy smile greeting him every time he would moan over the taste of her delicious food?

“Hey.”

She felt the bed dip next to her as it took on Bucky’s body, his warm hand on her shoulder just like last night.

“Let your sweet tooth Sarah give you a kiss,” she spoke before he could say anything.

“This is not about the kiss. And She’s not my Sarah,” Bucky told her, turning her on her back so she could see his sincere face and hopefully believe him, “she’s not my anything. She’s just a good friend.”

She snorted, not buying it as she turned back to face the wall.

Bucky brought her back to him again, “she’s not married. She’s a widow, who is loyal to the memory of her husband, with two kids that are her whole world.” Bucky answered her earlier question, not wanting to hide anything from her.

“That’s none of my business.” She pretended to be uninterested, giving him the cold shoulder for the third time as she turned away, covering her head with the blanket.

Deep inside, she knew she was relieved to know that Sarah wasn’t interested though.

“It is your business,” Bucky sighed, taking the blanket away from her hands, making her look at him again, “it is your business when you think I’m involved with her.”

“You can do whatever you want.” She shrugged, acting indifferent, making Bucky more frustrated.

He released a loud exhale, “you’re what I want, little human.”

She remained silent, not expecting the orc’s patience or this admittance.

He had told her he wanted her before, but that was on their ‘wedding night’ when he had forced her to get completely naked for him.

This one was different. It sounded different and felt different.

“You don’t have to say all these things. We both know how this marriage came to be a thing.” She tried her best to hold her tears in.

“How did it come to be a thing?” Bucky wanted to see inside her head.

“How?” She sat up, her voice loud yet wobbly with emotions, “they gave you an orphaned girl you didn’t get to see or pick beforehand to make up for making you go to war for them, that’s how!” She felt bad for him, but even more for herself.

So she had read the contracts.

“Who told you I didn’t get to see or pick you?” Bucky swallowed.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’ve seen you before, little human. More than once. And I asked for you to be my wife instead of the noble man’s daughter I was originally offered.” Bucky came clean about the truth behind their arranged marriage.

“You what?!” She became even angrier.

He did this? She was here now because of him?!

“I willingly picked you, little human.”

“Why! Why me! Did you ever stop to think that I might not want this? Or you?!” She practically screamed in anger.

Who was he to decide her future for her? Why didn’t he just take the nobleman’s daughter!

“I did. But you were the only human female who has ever caught my attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off you every time I won a glimpse.” Bucky confessed, his light grey skin gaining a tint at the cheeks as he bared his heart to her, “I knew I couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you, little human.”

Won a glimpse

Couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you

No one has ever used such words to describe an act so normal as looking at her. No one had ever wanted or needed her. Why was her heartbeat speeding up? What was that orc doing to her?

“The minute you entered my cottage, you became my one and only. I don’t want anyone but you.” He promised, squeezing her smaller hand in his, “I will live and die loyal to you, little human.”

She knew he was telling the truth because she had heard the stories. Loyalty was very important to orcs and their mates were for life.

She just stared at Bucky, words stolen from her throat by the way he was looking at her.

No one has ever looked at her like that. Like she was the most beautiful thing they could see. Like she was the only girl in the world. Like she was the only one with any sort of control over this orc’s mind and heart.

“When I suggested gifting Sarah some jam, I was only thinking of doing something nice for a friend.”

She listened with a frown, a little angry again at the mention of the other female’s name.

“If it wasn’t for Sam and Sarah and the boys, I wouldn’t have survived a lot of things. They are my only friends and the only ones I can share nice things with.”

“The only ones?” She pouted, turning her face to the dining table in discontent.

“That’s not what I meant! I just— I’m not used to saying such things, but—” Bucky took a deep breath, squeezing her smaller hand closer, “I was so proud of you being my wife and knowing how to make such delicious things that I wanted the important ones in my life to share it with me…”

Bucky didn’t have to know, but those words were everything to her because when she thought about it, no one has ever been proud to know or have her. No one has ever been proud of her for anything.

But Bucky was, and he wanted to show her off.

When she looked back at the orc, he was staring at the blanket covering her thighs, doubtful to meet her gaze.

Bucky looked… nervous, if you will.

She smiled, eyes tearing up despite herself as she waited for him to look back at her.

When he did, Bucky was instantly smiling back at the sight of her grin. That smile was the whole world for him; it sent him up on cloud nine.

“Have dinner with me?” He asked, his metal thumb wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

She nodded, her smile bigger as she got up and walked to the kitchen to make herself a plate, her heart going a hundred miles per minute as she couldn’t make her smile leave her face.

She wanted to be angrier over the fact that he got to choose and she didn’t, but then again, if she was being honest with herself, she probably could have never dreamt up a husband as good as Bucky was to her if she tried.

She believed that everything happened for a reason and she was too dreamy not to imagine that this whole marriage had to happen exactly the way it did just for her to meet this orc, and maybe, against all odds, have her happy ending with him.

Taking the lid off of the rice pot, she finally saw it: her palm covered in fresh blood.

“Oh gods!” She quickly washed her hand under the water, seeing and feeling no injuries, the realization that it must be Bucky’s blood sent a pang to her chest.

“Bucky?” Tears blurred her vision as she found the orc in the bathroom, trying and failing to remove the wrapping around his right palm with his left one.

She had been forced into this marriage, a union she never agreed to, but as she watched him struggle to tend to his wound, something inside her softened.

How did she not notice that he had come home with a covered up hand?

“Are you okay?!” Bucky asked, troubled to see her crying even when he was the one bleeding above his bathroom sink.

Her heart clenched at the sight; at the care in his cerulean eyes, “what happened to you?”

She sped up to get the first-aid box from him, getting out everything she was going to need as she looked at his bloody palm.

“It’s nothing, sweet thing,” Bucky told her softly, hating the look of anxiety on her precious face even if it was for him; even if it was making him feel all sorts of things, “just a scratch, really. Nothing I can’t handle”.

She tenderly finished unwrapping his hand, gasping as she saw the bleeding gash across it, “this doesn’t look like nothing!” She cried, more tears streaming down her face, “how did you get this?”

“I just hurt myself while working…” Bucky’s metal hand hesitantly pat her shoulder.

“Bucky.” She looked up at him, not believing that that was the only reason because the wound seemed to be loosely stitched and it was obvious that something had happened to make the wound bleed after it had been stitched.

“And I might have punched the wall when I came home and didn’t find you,” Bucky mumbled lowly, not wanting to make her feel bad.

It was just a silly scrape compared to what he had to endure back when he was still fighting wars, really.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into the back of her hand, feeling terrible for all the things she has been putting him through ever since she came here.

“Hey, I’m okay.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped her cheek, his smooth thumb sliding across to wipe her tears.

“No, you’re not.” She shook her head in deep regret, not believing that he was still the one reassuring her in such a state.

“I am, I swear on our marriage.” Bucky wiped under her eyes patiently, caring about nothing but her heart carrying no burdens.

She was speechless because did Bucky just use their marriage to swear? Was it really that important to him that he would swear on it?

She didn’t care that this was an arranged marriage in possibly the most twisted of ways, a woman knew love when she encountered it and that orc’s eyes were showing nothing but pure love.

In the middle of her heart’s longing for a person to care about her, she couldn’t bring herself to step on Bucky’s. Trying to calm her down when he was the one injured and dripping blood? Yeah, that was an orc worth trying, caring and staying for.

“I’m— I’m gonna need to redo the stitches, is that okay?” She sniffled, relaxing herself as she wordlessly promised those concerned blue eyes to give them and this marriage her all.

“Yes.” Bucky smiled when he saw her wipe her tears away and the smile she gave him back made his heart soar.

“It might hurt a little, but just for a short bit, okay?”

Bucky nodded, not believing how delicately she was handling his huge hand with her smaller ones.

He was glad she never had to witness him back then or the actually deadly injuries he had had inflicted on him during wars. He wouldn’t have been able to take that look of fear in her eyes after every fight.

“Who did those sloppy stitches anyway?” She wondered in dissatisfaction with the work and Bucky swallowed hard.

She looked at him knowingly when he remained silent, “it was sweet tooth Sarah, wasn’t it?” She asked with half a smile as she started cautiously taking out the old stitches with the tweezers.

“Yes.” Bucky nodded sheepishly, “but Sam only called for her help because they don’t offer me help in the kingdom’s infirmaries.”

“What?!” Her head snapped up angrily.

They don’t offer him service at the infirmaries?! After all that he had done for this kingdom?

“I’m no longer a soldier of their own so…” Bucky shrugged with a sad smile.

Her expression went from angry to devastated to angry again in less than a second, “this is gonna sting a little.” She warned as she disposed of the old sutures in the bin.

“Don’t be upset, little human.”

She looked up, not knowing what to say or how to apologize to the orc about the terrible treatment of this kingdom’s people, but his smile told her that everything was going to be all right. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Her eyes swayed between his palm and his face as she started disinfecting the wound with the piece of sterilized cotton in her hand.

Bucky hissed and winced, making her stop at once.

“I’m sorry! I’m so so—”

“Ha, fooled ya! It’s not that bad,” Bucky laughed, amused at her reaction, instantly earning himself a slap on his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Hey, you can’t do that to the injured!” Bucky whined playfully.

“Can’t I?” She teased, biting her smile back.

He smiled wider because she could.

Oh, she could do anything to him and he would take it with a smile and thank her for it.

For a heartbeat, the world around Bucky seemed to blur as he focused solely on her, engraving every detail of her smile into his memory. It was a sight he never wanted to forget, a ray of light in the darkness that had clouded his years for so long.

Everything was going to be okay, Bucky thought as he brought her to his chest with his metal arm, praying to the gods she wouldn’t pull away.

“I’m— I’m almost done,” she muttered coyly, trying to make him let her go so she could finish tending to his injury.

But then she felt it: her husband’s tusks were pressing gently on her scalp as Bucky kissed her hair.

Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of surprise and tenderness washing over her as she felt herself wanting to stay longer inside his embrace.

“Thank you, little human,” he whispered lovingly.

As she tilted her head slightly to meet Bucky’s captivating eyes, she found herself lost in the depths of their oceans, catching a vulnerability she hadn't noticed before.

She looked deeper and she realized that beneath his rugged exterior lied a heart capable of great tenderness, a heart that might just beat for her and her alone.

She beamed again as she softly replied, “you’re welcome, Bucky.”

Yeah, they were going to be okay.

Part IV

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