#You are giving me an early stroke. You kill me
Text
Trigger Tease
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Your honeymoon from hell takes you straight to a strip club south of Madripoor, where Bucky teaches you how to give a lap dance, shoot a gun, and kill a man all in one night—and maybe agree to have his baby, too.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Oral (m! & f!receiving). Sex in a sauna. Sex in a strip club. Praise & degradation. Breeding kink. Daddy kink. Double homicide. Dickriding. Beefy, mob boss Bucky hates birth control and bad men—loves babies and killing HYDRA operatives for his wife.
Descriptions of violence throughout
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4
Roleplay was fun—even vital for a marriage like yours.
Only instead of assuming the role of sexy masseuse, strong and strapping CEO, hands-on handyman, or some naughty professor with a knack for after-class punishment, Bucky got to play a bloodlusting assassin.
‘Winter Soldier’ didn’t have quite the same ring as most pornographic tropes, but that was no matter. What counted now was making the shot, and getting it right.
You sincerely hoped you wouldn’t fuck this up.
It was no secret that the Barnes’ bloodline was steeped in dealing, stealing, gunslinging, and laundering cash. Staggering privilege, too. From the sandy shores of Curaçao to Luxembourg and Guinea-Bissau, any living heir to the dynasty could have expected to find safe refuge and respect just about anywhere that they went. It was all but engrained in their DNA at this point.
All that is to say, Bucky had no trouble finding a foreign hideaway in a pinch. He liked the Swiss Alps the best.
After your short and sweet conversation with ‘Joey’ over the phone—HYDRA hijacking the intercom system—he and Sam and Steve had made the split-second decision to reroute the plane to Zürich, and now you were here.
72 hours into a four-day ticking time bomb and totally clueless as to how you might stave off impending death, and mitigate other casualties, the best that you could.
The stress fucking with Bucky made it worth it, though.
In between breakfast and the start of your husband’s early briefing that day, you’d found yourself situated in much the same way you’d been spending a lot of time lately: pinned against the wall of a wood-paneled sauna, Bucky’s broad shoulders supporting both of your legs as he buried his face deep between your thighs. You sighed.
“Hold still,” Bucky grunted, voice muffled as he tried to keep your slick, squirming body in place above him.
You yelped and seized a fistful of his hair when he wedged his tongue even further inside you, nudging your clit with his nose almost too teasingly and deliberate.
“I can’t…help it,” you bit back, ignoring the brief glare you earned from your husband as soon as you said it, “Your tongue’s just so— s— James!”
This time, Bucky let out a full-throated groan when you yanked on those poor wet locks of his—‘Gonna make me bald by next Christmas if you keep doin’ that, honey’—and he pried his head from your legs just long enough to knock you flat on the sauna bench close by.
The western red cedar seared hot on your skin, already flushed from the exhaustion wrought by Bucky’s tongue; you hardly had the strength to hold yourself up when he pushed you onto your back and crawled over your body.
“How ‘bout my fingers, doll? Can you take a couple’a those for me?” Bucky crooned above you as he stroked your hair, bathed in pure sunlight pouring in from the windows. His voice was a touch more sympathetic now.
After all, this was your third orgasm of the morning. It really wasn’t fair for him to use that biological weapon of mass destruction he liked to call his tongue when he knew how sensitive your clit would get from just one ‘O’. Even his hands might be too much in your current state.
Bucky was busy peppering your skin with kisses, working his way from the base of your neck to the crown of your head, when you whimpered and tried to fight a smile.
“Finger,” you corrected him, “Just one finger, Barnes.”
You would’ve thought you’d just thrown your wedding ring in his face and told him to eat shit. Just one?
“How’s one finger s’posed to stretch you out for my cock, huh? Practically had you screamin’ when I stuck it in last night,” Bucky wasn’t one to hide his amusement, grinning even bigger when you swatted him on the arm.
“Who said anything about your cock?” You tried to keep cool as Bucky’s fingers trailed right back down to the place you felt yourself throbbing, aching for his touch, “You have a meeting in ten minutes.”
“Meeting doesn’t start until I say so, my love,” Bucky reminded you just as his index ghosted over your folds.
In truth, he was willing to play this game any way, and for however long, you wanted it done, so long as he was the one bringing you pleasure all the while. Be that his cock, his finger, or all fucking five on one hand, Bucky just wanted to get you off. It was far better sustenance to him than the whole fucking meal he’d eaten that morning.
Bucky kept it down to one digit and lightly circled your bundle of nerves when he sensed you were ready.
You gripped his forearm and shot a quick look between your legs, still in disbelief as to how he could make you feel this good so soon after you’d cum twice before. You felt his lips drift over to yours and steal a few kisses.
“Always doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praised, moving his finger in circles. When you whined against his mouth, he pressed it even harder, “Such a good girl for daddy.”
“James,” you breathed, clenching your legs together.
“Everything OK?”
“Uh-huh.”
More than OK, in fact. That delectable coil of sweet, euphoric release was already swelling gently in your tummy. Bucky moved his finger even faster.
“Tell me how it feels,” he murmured low in your ear.
Bucky loved seeing you try to articulate your feelings—relatively fresh and new to your world, still—while he was giving you pleasure. Adored the way you winced and whined and arched your back into his touch as a whole blustering hailstorm of sensations crashed over you.
He sank his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you, as if trying to extract the words from between your lips. Your response, in consequence, came somewhat stifled.
“Mm— feels so, oh—” Your voice broke off in a moan when Bucky tightened his circles, “—so good, daddy.”
“Wanna show daddy how good and cum for me?”
Bucky knew by the way you were whimpering under his hand that the tendril in your stomach had almost tripled in size. It wouldn’t take much to tip you over the edge.
“My sweet girl,” he said, rubbing your cunt at the same time he was stroking the back of your head, gently, “Feels so nice down there, doesn’t it?”
You rolled your hips against the bench and nodded. Your breaths were short and ragged, panting helplessly into Bucky’s mouth when he adjusted his hand just a little: pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit, with his index moving down to your entrance. Pushing inside you.
“Another,” you choked, not thinking.
Bucky met your desperate gaze and nodded, knowing this was exactly what you needed to make it over the precipice.
Still, he wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t tease just a bit.
“I thought my wife wanted one finger,” he hummed, brow pinching inward.
“No, no.” You could’ve shrieked when he curled the digit, “Want more— Bucky, please, please, I need more.”
Again, your husband appeared to nod in understanding, but his fingers didn’t budge. He worked his thumb a little faster and watched you writhe on the seat beneath him.
“How many, honey? Don’t wanna hurt my baby.” His words were all kindness, it seemed, but his tone laced with shameless condescension—the kind that said, yes, I know you need this, and no, I won’t indulge you just yet. Bucky was the worst when he wanted to prove a point. You could’ve ripped at his clothes and torn them in two if you weren’t both stark naked and shrouded in steam.
You opted to pull at his hair instead.
Bucky winced, but the smirk never left.
“I said how many?” he pressed again.
“Three. Four.” Fuck if you knew.
Your husband raised both eyebrows and hummed, a single finger still plunging in and out of your cunt at a rapid-fire pace. He teased the tip of another at your entrance and smiled even more when you whined.
“Needy little thing, isn’t she?”
“Bucky—”
“Just wants to fuck daddy’s hand to get herself off, hm?”
Bucky didn’t bother to mask his sweet, degrading tone any longer as he talked down and teased you to no end. It drove him half-insane to see you squirm around, rut your hips, let him say the filthiest fucking words he could conjure up, and just bob your head to whatever he said. His impeccant wife and her insatiable needs—Bucky couldn’t even begin to express how turned on the sheer dichotomy got him. He stared in your eyes, all glossy and soft, and felt his cock stand even more rigid on his belly.
He didn’t give a shit if he’d taunted you enough or not; he just shoved his middle and ring fingers alongside the first and clenched his jaw to start fucking you hard with all three.
Your whole face contorted with pleasure, tinged with the faintest shade of discomfort at the tail end of it. You’d forgotten how big his fingers felt all together.
“Bucky,” you whined, mindlessly clawing at the wrist that was moving back and forth, fast, between your legs, “B-Baby, slow— slow down a little.”
But Bucky was deep in the zone. He knew you wanted it too—sensed that you liked to play it safe when it came to your pleasure and grew a little timid at times it got to feel too much—and he needed to talk you through it.
Rather than turn his head and keep to himself as he got you up to your peak, Bucky pressed his face down to yours and nodded again—this time with a tender sincerity.
“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”
You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Bucky kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his fingers wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,
“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”
“My perfect fucking wife, so good at taking my fingers.”
“Gonna be nice and stretched out for my cock, hm?”
Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Bucky wanted you. Exactly how you needed to be, bucking your hips in time with the cadence of his fingers fucking inside you, and soon, those whimpers were turning to moans as that soft little helix inside you reached its breaking point.
Bucky brushed once or twice more against your sensitive spot, and suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his wrist you feared you might snap it in two, and then getting kissed again, over and over. Bucky soaked in your every sound, and the few tears that would inevitably spring to your eyes, like sweet nectar.
You were still moaning, curling your tongue feebly against his own and leaning into him as far as you could, when your husband slipped three fingers up between your mouth and his and pushed them past your parted lips.
“Suck,” Bucky said, clenching his jaw as he watched you, “C’mere, honey, taste your cunt on my fingers.”
You took him in and sucked your arousal off his fingers just like he asked. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his hand, where your juices had no doubt collected too.
That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Bucky could’ve wanted.
He climbed on top of you and took the base of his cock, rock-hard and weeping tears of precum from the tip, almost drunk from the feeling himself. His mouth hung open as he dragged himself over the seam of your cunt.
“I need to fuck you now.”
Bucky’s words couldn’t have hung in the fog-infested air for more than a millisecond or two before he had you back in his arms and carried to the far end of the sauna.
At the door—or, rather, on it—with your back flush against the wood, you felt Bucky pin you in place with his hips and press his erection to that soft, cramped space between your bodies. You tightened your legs around his middle and sucked in a breath when you felt him pulse.
Then the head of his cock was circling that slick, taut ring of muscles like all hope for his future happiness lay there: right between your legs in the softest and sweetest recesses of your body he could reach. His eyes could’ve been engulfed in flames and still not betrayed a fraction of the smouldering desire that lay behind them now—he drank you in with a single look and sighed.
“Can I— do it, now?” The term ‘fucking’ swiftly lost all lustre when he was an inch from your heat and ready to press in; he just needed to be in you, a part of you, now.
“Yeah,” you breathed. You pressed your forehead to his.
Bucky ran his tip once more down your slit and had just begun to ease his hips forward when a moan snagged in his throat. He braced you firmer against the door, letting your arms drape over his shoulders, and was just about to slide his length inside of you, then—
Thump, thump, thump.
Three knocks in quick succession.
You jumped, the sudden raps reverberating up the door.
Bucky held you to him, tight, and planted a hand beside your head as if to hold the whole frame still. Then, through gritted teeth,
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Need you downstairs. Now.”
It was Sam.
“Can it wait?”
“No.”
Bucky frowned. Scratched the wood surface reflexively.
“Can it…wait?” he tried again, tone laden with a silent but pointed, ‘Is it urgent enough to drag me away from my wife when I’m less than an inch away from being seven inside her?’ Evidently, Sam got the gist, or was just keen to get him out, because he returned, quick:
“Yeah. Legal’s here.”
‘Shit’ was Bucky’s wordless expression below you.
Then a ‘Shit, shit, shit, just shoot me now’ kind of look that raised an eyebrow on your own frazzled face.
Wasn’t the arrival of Bucky’s legal team a good thing? He’d been agonizing for days, badgering Sam and Steve to no end over when they’d hear back from his retinue, and here they were. You couldn’t ask just yet, as your husband was lowering you to the floor and stepping back from the door, chest racked with a shuddering breath, but you wanted to know. You reached for a towel.
“Fine. Fuck. I’ll be right out.” As it was, Bucky had chosen to forgo the dry-off altogether and just started chucking clothes on his body, eyes roaming all over.
You turned from the sound of Sam’s retreating steps and found him moving fast, graceless—shoulders hunched, head bowed, pants wrestled almost angrily up his legs. He found his balance, barely, bracing his weight against the sink, then nearly tore the porcelain fixture off the wall with how hard he kicked it trying to get his left shoe on.
He muscled into his dress shirt and flushed bright red.
In a second, you had either side of the crisp white button-up between your hands, frowning.
“Any reason why we’re so upset?” you asked after a beat.
Bucky puffed a short breath over your head as you secured the first button. Then the next. Then the next.
“What? Apart from the fact I’m not balls deep and about to give you your fourth orgasm?” he grumbled.
You shot him a look.
“I mean it’s— not ideal, getting a visit at a time like this,” Bucky continued once he’d sufficiently contained half a smirk and could don a more serious look, “If we were getting any good news they would’ve just called.”
Hell, great news could’ve made it in an email. The whole aggregate of his legal team taking the trip from Brooklyn to Zürich meant that shit had most likely hit the fan in a big way. Bucky wasn’t thrilled to learn the ‘how’ just yet.
Instead, he cupped your cheek in one hand and brushed his thumb along its curve once you’d made it to the last button of his shirt. He started to lean in, hoping to delay the briefing downstairs with a quick diversion to your lips, but he stopped about an inch away from your face.
You’d lowered your touch, slipping it under the band of his boxers. He was still as hard as you’d felt him last.
Bucky let out a grunt when your fingertips grazed the soft tufts of hair adorning that part of his abdomen. He sucked in a breath when they sank even further.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” you said, voice dulcet and slow as you wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft.
Again, a sound rumbled deep inside Bucky’s chest, and the thumb resting on your cheek stirred. In fact, it had no other choice—your head was starting to move.
Descending, slowly. Sinking to the floor in front of him. Positioning yourself right above the bulge in his pants.
Now Bucky’s palm was laying flat on your head, resting light as it ever had while you drew him even closer.
“Baby—”
“Yeah?” you hummed, just then tugging him out and bringing your mouth to the swollen, leaking head. Bucky gripped a good handful of your hair and rutted his hips without meaning to, and you smiled, “Can’t have my husband showing up hard as a rock to his meeting.”
You were right. There was no way Bucky was getting rid of this wood without the help of his hand or one of your holes. And, under any set of circumstances, he would’ve much preferred the latter to the former. He groaned when you took his tip to your lips and stroked him softly.
You made remarkably quick work of the man with just a minute or two, your mouth, your hand, and a tiny bit of spit—a record-breaking feat, Bucky had thought to himself with some embarrassment. But you weren’t concerned with his stamina in the slightest, focusing instead on the ways in which you might maximize his pleasure in the same way he’d done for you. Stretching your lips, loosening your jaw, and taking him down as far and as frequently as you could manage without gagging around him, you had him good. Deep. All but aching for release as he took a firm hold of the sink behind him.
“That’s a—fuck, that’s a good…fuckin’ girl.”
You bobbed your head once or twice more, flitting your gaze to his face, and felt the warmth unload in ropes—glazing your throat and every soft, square inch of your mouth as he did. Practically flooding your tongue with his cum. Bucky groaned and made a fist in your hair.
“Baby…shit,” came the sound of disbelief under his breath when you pulled off just enough to breathe.
You were careful how you took in air; flaring your nostrils the slightest bit, feeling a twitch at the corners of your lips as you tried not to smirk. Then, with an obscene sort of precision and purpose, you gave something else a try.
You stuck your tongue out at Bucky to show him the warm, oozing load he’d just left in your mouth.
Your husband’s response was immediate: evidently, he loved nothing more than a show of himself inside you, displayed like a prize between your two rows of teeth. You watched him grit his own to suppress a moan.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he seethed. Still reeling from his high.
Then he paused, in awe for a second, before dropping one finger to your mouth and swirling his touch along the sticky, opaque puddle resting over your tongue.
You closed your lips around him, snug, and held his gaze.
A weaker man might have come undone. Bucky just let out a breath and smiled.
“If you wanna play show-and-tell with my cum I can find someplace to put that, doll,” he said, low as ever, then,
“C’mere.”
You didn’t need the powers of telepathy to understand what he’d meant. Should’ve known better than to dip your toe in the cumplay game with a man who arguably harbored the world’s biggest breeding kink and really wanted to knock you up. The realization had you back on your feet in an instant. Having swallowed fast, pried your lips off his digit with a pop, and licked the corners of your mouth, you rose without the threat of a second thought.
Your pale yellow dress was the first thing you grabbed—the first thing Bucky tried to yank off of your body when you’d slipped it up your legs and staggered backward.
“Not happening, Barnes,” you giggled, pretending not to see him advance when you stepped back.
But Bucky had never been big on civility in times like these. He lunged forward and nearly tore the barely-zipped frock off your frame, eliciting a shriek and another arch look from you as you started toward the door.
You were amazed you made it through—your husband had had to stop to tuck his dick back in his pants before stumbling after you—but when you took off down the hall, you knew it was only a matter of time before you heard his footsteps thundering fast after your own.
The tips of your toes had just barely grazed the first step down the stairs when hands seized your hips. You yelped.
“BUCKY!”
Whether on account of your own practiced agility, or the fact that Bucky’s palms were still sticky and slick with his sweat, you managed to wrest yourself out of his grip just long enough to get a start down the stairs.
“COME HERE!” Bucky boomed loud, trying his hardest not to laugh as he chased after you.
You screamed without meaning to. Yanked your wrist out of his reach when you’d made it to the bottom of the stairs and felt your husband close the distance in quick. You tried to be firm, insistent, primed with the kind of fine and unfuckwithable attitude that signaled you meant business. You didn’t, though—the series of giggles bubbling up in your chest said as much.
You descended the last step with a hitch, almost losing your shit within a foot of the landing, when Bucky scooped you up in his arms and held on tight. His lips were at your ear in a second, breaths coming in quick.
“Hell, I’ll give you one right here, honey,” he sneered before flipping you back around to face him.
He pressed you flush to the wrought iron railing, then over it, pushing you back bit-by-bit until you had no choice but to jump and latch your legs around his hips.
“James Buchanan Barnes, if you don’t—”
“Give you a baby right now?”
“—get off of me!” You were laughing now, squirming when he nipped at the space just below your ear.
One more second and he might’ve convinced you. Your Bucky was persuasive like that, too smug and self-assured for his own good but one hell of an advocate when he wanted to be. At length, he opened his mouth to take an even bigger, teasing bite, when a voice cut in,
“Barnes.”
He stopped. You froze. Together, you reluctantly turned your heads in the direction of the sound and found a keystone conference table situated at the far end of the room—seating a dozen-odd faces with identical, muted expressions of surprise. Mild discomfort, for some.
Wild discomfort for your mother and father, you saw.
Bucky set you down and simultaneously yanked the hem of your dress back into place. Flashed a smile for the ages and snaked an arm around your waist as he started to lead you over.
“Nat! Hi,” he tried, far too casual, “Long time no see.”
You bit the inside of your cheek hard and hoped like hell your husband had remembered to zip up his pants.
The woman at the head of the table—the source of the voice you’d heard—raised a brow. One cherry-red curl from her sleek, cropped bob threatened to fall out of place as she tilted her face to regard you both. The smile Bucky proffered had done nothing to repair her glare.
Some wordless exchange passed between the two of them, and next, you felt a hand directing you to a seat across the way—Steve. Smug as ever. Smirking just then.
The empty chair beside your mother. The horror.
You were dimly aware of some introductions being made on your behalf and a round of awkward, disjointed congratulations around the table. Greetings from Nat, Sam, Steve—conceited little shit—a few you knew as Bucky’s groomsmen, a couple members of the security detail, and several more friendly, unfamiliar faces, including a smartly dressed blond named Sharon. Your husband had taken a seat by the latter at the end of the table.
“Momma.” You weren’t sure why you felt the need to whisper when the attention had turned back to Natasha and other matters, but you did, “Where have you been?”
Your mother and father were perched in their chairs like prisoners. There were no shackles to be seen but an air of discomfiture and compulsion bound to their every feature. You couldn’t be sure if it was humiliation on your behalf—they had just witnessed their son-in-law promise to put a baby in you for all present to hear—or something more.
For once in your life, you hoped it was just the prudish, sex-averse tendencies of the two rendering them silent.
You tried your mother again when she hadn’t responded.
“Momma.”
“Now is not the time.”
Her voice was clipped. Abrasive.
You knew better than to test that tone another time. You sank back in your seat and let your gaze roam the table, flitting between your father and Bucky a few more times than it probably should have. Surely, your dad, who had screwed Bucky over to hell and back, obliterated your wedding, and jeopardized your lives for a few more million in his pocket would have warranted some sidelong, hateful look from your husband. A glance or a stare, certainly something to show that he knew, and hadn’t forgotten.
No—Bucky was occupied with Sharon at the moment.
You watched your father twist his signet ring on his pinky, jerking the gold back and forth as if hoping for it to break, or save him. He didn’t look at Bucky, either.
“Natasha Romanoff is the Barnes’ retained legal talent for all things maritime crime and narcotics trade-related. Some estate planning, too,” a voice rumbled beside you.
You made a low ‘Hm’ to feign understanding of whatever the fuck Steve had just said, and nodded.
Then, when your eyes wandered left again,
“Sharon Carter, criminal liaison and kingpin informant. Been in bed with the Barnes’ as long as I can remember.”
He really couldn’t have used a worse string of words if he had tried. You cocked your head just slightly and stared at the pair. You considered holding your tongue.
“And she’s been in bed with Bucky how often before?” You’d decided against self-restraint for the time being.
Steve blinked a little harder.
“What do y—”
“I’m not asking if, but when, they fucked,” you interrupted.
Steve blinked again, as if to clear a string of cobwebs from his eyes, and couldn’t quite find the words to answer your question. Either the truth or some half-baked crock of bullshit—there was no in between.
“Once,” he answered, at length. Honest.
You figured as much.
In any other situation where you were faced with one of Bucky’s former fuckbuddies, you probably would’ve felt more than a twinge of jealousy. Might’ve even cast a dark look in the girl’s direction and willed her not to even breathe the same air as him. Then you remembered you weren’t fourteen years old and could behave with some modicum of maturity when it came to some old flame of your husband. They weren’t even sitting that close.
You winced when Bucky gave her shoulder a playful squeeze, though. That facial tic you couldn’t control.
“So to recap,” Natasha announced, having just plodded through a few dull formalities up front, “Barnes got the intercom call from Schröder at 1500 hours, Friday.”
Every head nodded.
“Schröder gave Barnes exactly ninety-six hours to recover the $90 million lost in the…mishap, in Brooklyn—” Natasha’s eyes flickered to your father no longer than a second, “—and today is Monday. We have twenty-four hours to come up with the funds, or face the…penalties of Schröder’s exploding offer. Whatever those may be.”
You knew what ‘those’ were. Ms. Romanoff was either too kind or too diplomatic to say it, you reckoned, but the threat Joey Schröder had made to Bucky had been patently clear: procure the cash or your wife’s family dies.
That was why you’d been so surprised to see your mother and father seated at the table that morning—Schröder had further stipulated that there was to be no contact between you and your parents in the time it took to come up with the money. You’d been completely cut off, in the Alps, since the day of the attack, left to wonder without reprieve whether HYDRA’s bloodless henchmen had taken hostages of your parents, let them abscond to Brooklyn, or simply killed them both and sent the rest of you all on a wild goose chase to get hold of the money.
Now if they’d only had sex once, why was she looking at him like that?—The intruding thought couldn’t be helped when you peered over again—Surely the most platonic and professional working relationships didn’t call for looks like that.
Shut the fuck up. Shut the entire fuck up, please.
The lives of those closest to you were on the line and all you could think now was how well you compared to this random woman in giving Bucky head? Brain fucking rot.
You scrunched your nose and turned back to Natasha.
“…and up until this morning, Schröder’s whereabouts were unknown,” she continued, careful as she spoke.
It seemed that part had caught Bucky’s attention, too, because he was tilting his head away from Sharon and shifting his gaze to the woman at the head of the table.
“And now?” he cut in.
“I’m getting there, James.”
Sharon smiled a little at that, tracing her nail on the notepad in front of her. She muttered something to Bucky, who disregarded her remark entirely.
“Do we know where Schröder is?” he barked.
Across the table, Sam shifted in his seat. He glanced to Natasha, then Sharon.
“I believe we have modestly reliable intel—” he began, only to have his speech mowed over by an impatient, increasingly irate Bucky.
“No. No— we don’t do ‘modestly reliable’ for this, Sam. We either know where the fuck the guy is or we don’t.”
That last fragment seemed to hang in the air a couple seconds longer than needed, and a tense silence fell over the table. It took a new voice—one you hadn’t heard much at all yourself—to reignite the conversation.
“I know it,” Sharon said, “I know he’s in Madripoor.”
Madripoor? The make-believe safe haven for terrorists? You couldn’t tell if she was kidding at first. Then Bucky flitted a look to the side, and his expression was grave. Natasha’s, too. Maybe there was a Madripoor after all.
“Or he will be there, most likely, tomorrow night,” Steve interjected. The hands that had been folded neatly in front of him were now tapping a light and mindless beat on the table, “He’s got the Foxy Den rented out for a…thing.”
Bucky rolled his eyes.
“Where else but a titty bar would Joey host his ‘things’?” he muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.
So Madripoor was real, and it had strip clubs. Wonderful.
It seemed Natasha was keen to regain control of the conversation, because she presently broke in,
“Keep in mind that time is of the essence—a private flight from here to the Indonesian archipelago is sixteen hours minimum. We most likely can’t afford to fly private, b—”
“Since when the fuck can’t I afford to fly private?” Bucky spat.
You hated how short and plainly nasty he was being to all those around him. If you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought these folks were at fault somehow, but they weren’t. Your father, the real culprit, was sitting right under Bucky’s nose, and he wouldn’t even look in his general direction. Your husband flared his nostrils with a new surge of indignation, and Sharon patted his hand.
“She’s not talking finances, bub,” the blond started, “She’s saying your jet is on a no-fly list, we don’t have time to charter a new plane, and there’s a hefty fucking bounty on your head if you ever set foot in Madripoor. We need to get you on a commercial flight, undercover.”
“Fuck that.” Bucky’s response was reflexive. He rose fast.
If your parents could have appeared any more stiff and uncomfortable you might have mistaken them for two charming, thoroughly terrified wax figures. Your father continued to fiddle with his ring as he watched Bucky.
Natasha tensed as well. As soon as Bucky was up on his feet, pacing around at the end of the table, she was urging him to relax, Buck, this isn’t anything we haven’t done before—sit down, please. Bucky didn’t sit, and he most certainly didn’t relax, but he did kick a stool across the room.
“I am not going back to that shithole.”
The stool tumbled onto its side, one leg splintered in half. You made a mental note to look into some anger management classes. Your parents, along with most of the table, flinched at the crashing sound, while your husband stood, supremely agitated, and did not even regard the broken chair. He turned away from Natasha.
“Yeah, well, that ‘shithole’ is our only hope of getting Schröder behind bars and you out of custody, Bucky,” Natasha called as he started to pace away.
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
Bucky tilted his head to the side. He contemplated snagging a bottle of Macallan 25 off the bar cart by the window but decided against it.
“Have you been listening to a word of what I’ve said all weekend?” Natasha returned, almost as biting, “Turned on MSNBC or CNN or any other news outlet in the last forty-eighty hours?”
She dropped her own notepad on the table and scanned the area in search of something else. Sam and Steve took that as their opportunity to jump in.
“Bucky,” Sam started, calmly, “There were over a dozen foreign attachés and two heads of State at your wedding, half of whom are now being hospitalized for injuries they sustained in the attack.”
“So?” Bucky snapped.
His eyes were already trailing back to the cart.
“So you think the U.N. Security Council was just gonna let that slide?”
“Two-thirds of its members have been up in arms, practically chomping at the bit to get someone pinned for the fucking thing—that leaves you or Schröder on the chopping block,” Steve chimed in.
“So one more federal probe. What’s the big deal?” Bucky hardly realized he’d taken a tumbler in his hands.
Just as he’d turned to pour himself a drink, guided more by bare muscle memory than anything else, Natasha raised a manila folder—the item she’d been looking for. He’d filled his glass half full when the folder was flung his way like a frisbee. He narrowly saved himself a papercut—or ten—by ducking his head, almost spilling his drink.
“The fuck, Nat?!” he bellowed.
“Extradition, Bucky. Search warrants for your Brooklyn residence, all your money service businesses up the Eastern Seaboard, and a whole hell of a lot of other financial records that we do not need dredged up in this mess.” Natasha pointed to the folder on the floor, which had just spilled a litany of documents at his feet.
“Let them.” Bucky wasn’t fazed by the warrants, walking over them as he drank, “I’m not going to Madripoor."
This time, it was Sharon's turn to roll her eyes as she swiveled in her chair to face Bucky. She was turned from you now, but you could almost smell the smug, knowing look she raked over your husband as she uncrossed her legs and leaned back.
"We don't have time for this," she said, coolly, "If you have any hopes of getting the Counter-Terrorism Committee off your ass and Schröder in custody, you'll listen to Nat."
Bucky paused, weighing her words in his mind before meeting her gaze again. He brought his glass to his lips and drained it.
Then, perhaps feeling a bit emboldened by the idea that she was the only one to have shut Bucky up—to have made him listen, as it were—Sharon piped up again. You didn't need to see her face to know for certain there was a smirk etched across it,
"Don't look so glum, honey. We have no choice here."
It startled every last soul at that table, yourself included and Sharon especially, when the cup in Bucky's hand sailed across the room and shattered on the edge of a cabinet close by. Before the glass had so much as splintered and scattered half of its jagged shards along the floor, your husband was stalking, then stopping, then looming over Sharon with an implacably dour look. And a jaw set tight as you'd ever seen it.
"My choice," he seethed, so low the words almost came out in a murmur, "is to protect my wife. Whatever you, or Natasha, or anyone else has in mind comes second to that. Do you understand?"
Sharon nodded that she did.
A hushed silence fell over the room once more, only now its duration was greater, and the cause of it—your red-faced, fuming husband—had turned his back to the group and was retrieving from the bar cart another glass. Another drink. Natasha followed his path with a vigilant eye.
"Bucky," she said.
Bucky didn't answer. Filled his new glass to the brim.
"Bucky," Natasha tried with a little more volume and vigor.
Your husband lifted the cup to his mouth and started to guzzle, against every shrill and helpless plea from his liver, you guessed. You wanted to object, to take leave of your seat as quick as you could and knock the thing out of his hand before he could finish, but Natasha had you beat—not with any physical act but a word to slow him down: "Barnes."
Then, a few more to get him to stop entirely:
"Look. Over there."
She pointed to a slip of paper somewhere at the top of the shuffle.
Bucky shifted his gaze to the floor. You saw him lick both corners of his mouth, bathed in whiskey residuum and a light, nascent spatter of stubble. He looked almost menacing in spite of the grin that kicked up.
"What's this?" he murmured.
"The terms of Schröder's newest offer. The one he made this morning."
Bucky's second glass was discarded in an instant.
He dropped to his knees, seized the paper in his hands and pored over the bare, 11-point Times New Roman typeface like it was the single most precious set of words in the world to him. There were several mountains of text, and you sensed he couldn't begin to under the legal jargon with just one cursory look.
"What? What's'it mean?" Bucky wouldn't tear his gaze away, even as he shouted to Natasha.
Your own eyes probably should've been fixed on Bucky, or in your lap, or out the window, reflecting in silence on what the fuck could be going on and why it felt as though things were suddenly coming to a perilous head. Instead, you pivoted to Natasha. Her face was tilted to you.
Then she spoke to Bucky, still crouched on the floor a few feet away from her, but she kept her focus on you. She spoke carefully.
"Schröder won't take the money, Bucky."
"What?"
Bucky's gaze combed over the page, desperate to make sense of what was printed in front of him—"The hell's this all mean, Nat, tell me what it means and what he wants, for fuck's sake."—and he flipped the document. Read some more. His eyes flitted from line to line in a full-blown terror.
Then the eyes stopped in one spot.
Bucky stood.
Fisting the letter in one hand and making a wild, inarticulate gesture with the other, he probably could've seared a hole in Natasha's head with the force of his stare. She refused to meet it.
"This is a joke, isn't it?"
All of a sudden, your father leaned over your mother to you,
"We can make it work. We can keep you—"
"Hey. Don't talk to her. Don't fuckin' look at her. Is this—"
"—safe. We'll keep you safe, darling, I swear."
"—some kind of sick fucking joke?!"
You stared at your dad in disbelief. Bewilderment. Then you chanced a look at Bucky, who had all but gone blue in the face as he approached your father from the opposite end of the table, letter still crushed in his hand.
Your father averted his gaze.
He knew.
You saw him flick the gold signet on his pinky once more, and for reasons you didn't yet understand yourself, you couldn't look away from it, or him.
Surely this scared-shitless son of a bitch could speak to you now. He'd have to. There was no way he wouldn't when the problem was staring him right in the face and his son-in-law was practically apoplectic with rage in front of him.
Something clicked in Bucky's brain.
He knew.
Your husband’s breath caught with the full weight of the realization, and he blinked. He didn’t hesitate; he simply sidestepped Sam and Steve—who had stood as soon as they saw the look of understanding cross over his face—and he seized your father. You heard a scream, most likely from your mother, and you saw Bucky swing, but the act barely registered as real until his fist first cracked against your dad’s skull. Again. And again. And again.
Somewhere in the raucous din and sounds of punches, kicks, and muffled groans, a discharge of blood, and the dim recognition that some of the stuff was dousing you, too, you managed to make out several words, disjointed:
“—FUCKING KILL YOU—SOLD HER—SOLD HER?!”
Roleplay was fun—even vital for a marriage like yours.
Only instead of assuming the role of sexy masseuse, strong and strapping CEO, hands-on handyman, or some naughty professor with a knack for after-class punishment, Bucky got to play a bloodlusting assassin.
‘Winter Soldier’ didn’t have quite the same ring as most pornographic tropes, it was true, but it was an alter-ego he’d been given from his earliest days as a made man. A caricature of himself that was to represent everything he did and was capable of doing in places like Madripoor.
You didn’t know that side. You didn’t like that side.
It was Bucky, and it wasn’t—pummeling your father’s face in the ground after learning that he had offered you up, again, in satisfaction of a debt. Sparing no feelings when he spoke to Natasha, Sam, Steve, Sharon, or anyone, making clear his wife’s safety was paramount.
Maybe you were meant to feel proud. Or flattered. Or safe. But oddly, the longer you’d stared at the bloodied, bruised fist he held above your father’s face and the half-deranged look of anger on his own, the more you began to wonder if the fury was for your protection, or simply a knee-jerk response to the thought of losing a possession. A mere object that he couldn’t bear to part ways with.
You had thought long and hard about where the Soldier stopped and Bucky began. No matter where you landed, you were far from comfortable with the conclusion.
Now, even as you stood two feet away from the man in an upper-level lounge of the Foxy Den, roughly half a day removed from the whirlwind turn of events that almost sent your father to hospital, you hardly knew what to say.
“Zip me up?”
The closest thing you’d had to conversation in hours. Bucky obliged.
You viewed your new dress in the mirror from the side and made a face. Pretended to examine the tight black number but were really just zeroing in on the sight of Bucky’s knuckles as he dragged the zip up your back. He hadn’t bothered to mend his hands, and you hadn’t thought to offer to bandage them up. You tried not to stare.
The hands paused at the top of your dress and froze.
Then crept back slowly, taking the zip along with it.
“Wanna—?”
“Bucky!”
One low groan, followed by a palm to his worn and wearied face. When you spun around, he didn’t move.
“Are you serious?” you bit.
“Will you talk to me now?” Bucky retorted.
To be fair, neither he nor his Winter Soldier persona knew how to solve the silent treatment from a pissed-off wife. This was brand new territory—being ignored for hours on end—and frankly, he had thought a playful request for sex might make you more amenable to conversation.
He had thought wrong.
You stared daggers at his handsome face and raised a finger as though to warn him, then stopped. Opened your mouth as if to speak, then appeared to decide against it. A steady, pulsing bass from the floors below was all that could be heard, and momentarily, you were reminded of why you were all here in the first place:
Locate Schröder. Corner Schröder. Capture Schröder. Bring the bad man to justice—or else just pump the motherfucker’s head full of lead and be done with it.
You weren’t too familiar with the particulars of the plan, but that had seemed to be the heart of it. Bucky never intended for you to stray from the safety of the lounge upstairs, where half of his team were casing the club through dozens of surveillance cameras, and he would likely take off with Sam and Steve the second you’d finished dressing. Now would be the time to talk.
And you planned to. Eventually.
For now, though, you’d let him sweat it out.
You had long envied women with effortless sex appeal and charisma. The kind that seemed to be made for the stage, capable of transfixing any audience, or individual, with little more than their aura alone. You’d never felt a fraction of that allure emanate from yourself before, personally, but looking at Bucky now brought you as close as you’d ever been. He was enthralled by your every move, he was intrigued at all times, you could see.
He was visibly aroused before you had even touched him. You knew it was cruel and unkind before you were even fully conscious of what you were doing, but you did it.
Someone had to teach this man how to control his anger—and his urges—somehow. Who better than you?
You drew closer to Bucky until your fronts almost touched.
“Baby,” you murmured. Simple, nearly plaintive.
Bucky blanched. Could it be? Had his bullshit gambit actually paid off and made you want to talk, or possibly do more? His hands immediately went for your hips, but you were quick to shove them off. You poked one finger to his chest and shook your head.
“We can talk,” you said, measured.
You pressed into his sternum and pretended not to see a short-lived look of defeat, followed by confusion, cross Bucky’s features. He let you walk him back a step or two.
“Okay. What about?”
Where the hell could you even begin?
“Sit first,” you urged him.
It was then that he realized you’d been walking him toward the plush sectional couch behind him—a cozy little touch to the VIP room only marginally diminished by the fact that it was coated in liquor, coke, and glitter. Bucky sat down anyway.
You didn’t follow, choosing instead to stand as you appeared to…scratch something on your back? Your husband looked on in muted curiosity as you reached behind yourself and tilted your torso just slightly.
Then he heard a zip. A hitch. Another, longer drag.
Bucky knew he was fucked before you ever slipped the dress off your body. You were to make quick work of it, eyes never leaving the man in front of you as you peeled the fabric down your legs and off of your frame entirely. When you were down to just your underwear, you hadn’t even needed to see his face to know exactly where his gaze was likely to land—this part was new to him. You kicked the dress aside and let him stare.
To be fair, it wasn’t every day he got to see a Ruger LC9 strapped to your thigh. Hidden in plain sight now that you were stripped bare before him in just your bra, panties, and garter-like holster across the top of your leg.
“Where’d you get that?” Bucky nearly choked, eyes wide.
“TJ Maxx,” you huffed, “Where the fuck do you think?”
“I never said you could— And Sam and Steve—”
Bucky paused, suddenly aware of how indignant and stupid he was starting to sound. He had given orders to the rest of his team not to let you carry a gun under any circumstances, but here you were. If he weren’t so violently aroused by the sight of you wearing the thing, he probably would’ve been fuming.
“A couple guys from your security detail were kind enough to make an exception,” you smiled, words verging on smug, “And who’s to say what I ‘can’ and ‘can’t’ do, hm?”
Bucky looked as though he were priming himself to stand when you lifted one stiletto to rest between his legs on the seat. A silent and quasi-sweet threat in one gesture.
“I didn’t say you can’t— well—” Bucky faltered at the last.
“You just said you never gave me permission!” You threw your hands up in exasperation, “That doesn’t sound very equitable to me, James.”
Bucky let out a frustrated sigh of his own.
“C’mon. You know what I mean, honey…I just…want to keep you safe. You know that.”
“Self-defense is a pretty integral part of safety.”
“No one’s ever taught you to shoot!”
“You never bothered to ask!”
This was getting a little too aggressive and Jerry Springer-eqsue for your liking. Not nearly sexy or seductive enough to be heading in the direction you wanted. Bucky always brought the bickering out of you, but you had to stay strong. Slow and steady and all that bullshit.
So, before he could respond to your last remark, you lowered yourself over him. Brought both legs to bracket his hips and hovered carefully in place above the bulge in his tactical pants. When he swallowed beneath you and raked his gaze over your body, you felt a twinge of relief.
You sank further down. Dragged your lower half over his own and earned a groan from deep within his throat. Again, his hands flew to your waist to get a good grip, but you pried them off before they could ever fully sink into the flesh.
“What?” Impatience palpable in Bucky’s tone.
“No,” you answered simply.
“No?”
“No, you don’t get to touch me. You don’t own me.”
Your husband shifted under your body, hands helpless at his sides and masseter muscle visibly clenching beneath the skin as he gritted his teeth. He shook his head.
“I never said that I did,” he managed, after a pause, “Baby, I love you.”
“And beating the shit out of my dad was your special way of showing that?”
“That wasn’t—”
“Or snapping at Natasha. And Sam. Steve. Sharon,” you added emphasis to the last name without really meaning to, and Bucky raised an eyebrow.
“Yes. I…lost my temper, I—”
“Couldn’t control your anger. Or wouldn’t. All because my dad made some stupid deal with a man and offered me up as collateral.”
“Because Joey wants you for himself!” Bucky snapped, voice suddenly raised to a near-deafening pitch. He shifted his hips and inadvertently grazed the heat between your legs, drawing a subtle pinch in his brow at the friction, “The deal your dad made was to give you over to Schröder in satisfaction of his own fucking debt—you think I was just gonna sit by and let that happen?!”
In spite of the animosity, you pressed your body to his even harder and watched him fold—if only slightly. He breathed a sharp inhale through his nose and flexed both his hands, as if wanting to make fists. However, he knew better than to move himself around at a time like this.
“What? Like the deal you made with him?”
Your words were clipped, almost cruel. You knew it would hit a nerve in Bucky, and sure enough, he met you right where you wanted him: enraged.
“That’s fucking different,” he seethed, “I would’ve paid your father’s debt without— without anything in it for me.”
“But you didn’t, and you got me.”
“And I love you. I don’t wanna lose you.”
The abrupt vulnerability in his voice was all but agony to hear. For a second, it seemed the anger had fled—or at least been eclipsed by some softer, sweeter shade—only for Bucky to blink again, shake his head, and wear that stupid, hardened look that said, ‘I am not losing this.’ Your hands reached for his belt and started in on the zip.
“You have a real fucked up way of showing love, James.”
To your surprise, Bucky let you continue, unhindered. Blue eyes meeting yours in a cold look.
“Makes two of us,” he mumbled, shrugging his boxers and trousers out of the way anyway.
That was probably true. No person in their right mind would think fucking their husband was the safest, most surefire way to let him know they were pissed at him, but both you and Bucky were working on communication skills, still. You’d get to healthy, non-sex-fueled fights at some point.
As it was, Bucky was fumbling around your thighs, trying to pry them open even wider for better access through your panties. That you allowed, but the second he tried manhandling you over his crotch, you pushed back.
“I wanna do this— without your help,” you said, firm.
Somewhat begrudgingly, Bucky agreed. He let you line yourself up with his length, brace your weight against his shoulders, and when you paused, he made a soft, ‘Hm?’ and glanced down where you looked. Before you could remove the pistol from its holster, he set his palm atop the cool metal.
“Leave it,” he murmured.
His eyes flashed with desire. It was almost more than you could bear, despite the plain fact that riding someone with a firearm strapped to your thigh probably violated every NRA gun safety rule known to man. Whatever.
You lowered yourself onto Bucky, slow, and sucked in a quick breath as he filled you. Your husband groaned.
“Fuck,” followed shortly thereafter, almost timid to crawl out of his mouth as you sank to a fully-seated position on top of him. He gripped the armrest beside him.
When your hips first stirred, you thought the man might burst a blood vessel trying not to move right along with you. You pressed a hand to his chest and reminded him, gently but with purpose: let me fucking do this, Bucky, and he relented. Fisting the couch cushion in something close to a death grip, he nodded his head and heaved a short breath and watched you all the while, grinding on him.
“My pretty…pretty girl,” he managed through his teeth.
He was doing better than you expected. You watched his face contort with pleasure when you lifted yourself up to the tip of his cock and slide back down. You squeezed his shoulders, and you let out a low whimper yourself, and dammit all, you felt that pesky fucking knot already forming in the pit of your stomach. You glanced down and frowned, wanting this to last so much longer.
Fortunately, when your eyes found Bucky’s again, you got the sense that he was in the same boat as you: brow furrowed tight in concentration and lips parted slightly, panting in time with each one of your movements.
“Baby,” he said, the single word treading close to a plea. He paused, dropped a glance to the spot where your bodies were coupled, and swallowed. He cursed aloud, then continued, quietly, “Baby…’m’sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” You bounced a bit faster.
“For— fuckin’ hell, honey— for being a…dick.” The last part of his sentence was pierced by a grunt and a moan, but you heard it just the same.
You clenched around him and tried to keep steady. Manage a small, shit-eating grin above him, even.
“Being a dick?” you repeated, pretending not to know what he meant. When his cock grazed over a particularly sensitive place inside you, you just swallowed the moan and kept going, fingers taking hold of some short tufts of hair at the back of Bucky’s head as you rode him.
“Possessive. Controlling. Kind of a—” Bucky paused to grunt when he bottomed out inside, hands aching to hold you, “—piece of shit.”
Finally, you were getting somewhere. Not nearly close enough to cure the rage or the dark, grating impulses churning inside of him, but good enough, for now.
You reached for his hands and set them over your hips.
The next most natural thing was to lean down and kiss him—let his tongue invade your mouth as soon as he’d caught your lips and show you, with a wordless and fast-moving show of affection, that he missed you. And meant what he’d said. With his hands moving quick to cup your cheeks, hold you to him while he kissed you and stroked deep inside your walls, he gripped you tighter than he had in a while. You could feel strips of tension and desperation bleed through his every fingertip.
“Wanna…fuckin’ kill anyone who even thinks…of— fuck,” Bucky’s words were almost slurred at this point, so close to the point of release it seemed every wild and wanton thought that crossed his mind was likely to dance off his tongue, unchecked. You loved to see him in it this deep.
You also had to remind the murderous alter ego that violence was not the answer…always. You let him pull you closer, bodies pressed flush against each other while you fucked, but you made sure to tilt his chin up to yours so he could see the expression on your face as you spoke.
“Hey,” you pinned him with one stern look, “No murder.”
Bucky frowned.
“Yes murder,” he retorted.
You sighed.
This shit was worse than teaching a dog not to bite.
Instead of pulling back or being strict this time, though, you decided you’d give positive reinforcement a try. You squeezed his short locks of hair, gently, and rolled your hips even tighter to his, eliciting a stuttered groan. You bounced up and down on his cock, pulled him into your chest, and brought your face within an inch of his.
“Promise to be good, and I’ll let you cum inside me,” you murmured into his lips. Not the wisest offer you’d made to date, but one that Bucky seemed to want more than the air in his lungs the second the words escaped you. He pulled you in for a kiss, immediately.
“Fuck, you mean it?” he breathed, in between each sloppy, frenzied movement of his mouth.
“Yeah,” you tried not to grin at how eager he seemed, “You’re gonna apologize to everyone, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
Bucky barely seemed to register anyone or anything but you and your pussy at the moment, yearning for the go-ahead to let himself free inside you. With a nod of your head, you’d let him start meeting your motions with gentle thrusts of his own, and both of you were teetering precariously close to the edge with that added pressure. In spite of both your hot and heady, near-anoetic states, you endeavored to hold out a little longer, legs aching.
“Gonna try and talk to Schröder first?” you panted.
Bucky rutted into you hard, lips twitching into a frown.
“Doesn’t…deserve it,” he grunted, barely able to get the words out as he grabbed your hips and thrusted harder, “A fucking bullet between the eyes is what he needs.”
You eyed him soberly, or as serious as you could manage with the force of his strokes nearly sending you into a spiral. You fought back a moan and gripped him tighter.
“Bucky.”
“Bunny.”
Damn, that name.
“Promise me you won’t kill him—or anyone—tonight.”
“Baby—”
“Promise.”
His thrusts were getting sloppier; with his hands hoisting you just above him and his cock practically drilling into you now, speech and coherent thought were some of the toughest things to accomplish, but he tried it, anyway. Bucky would swallow his pride and accede to his wife, no matter how fucking badly he wanted to cum—and kill that Russian mob boss with both his bare, bloody hands.
He could be better than the Winter Soldier. He would.
With a rough, labored breath, Bucky pulled you in for a kiss and felt you squeeze around his cock like a vice. Still thrusting, clutching you, kissing you hard, he saw both of your releases coming in fast and had to act even quicker.
“I— I promise,” he stammered.
That was all either of you needed, or could bear, quite frankly. In the next second or two, you felt a cord snap in your lower half and a deep, punchy flurry of pleasure follow shortly thereafter, fingers sinking deep in Bucky’s shoulders as he bounced you on his cock and held you close. With your walls still pulsing around him, you felt him chase his own high at a breakneck pace, shooting his load inside you a moment later. It was bad, it was brash, it was a really fucking dumb idea to be playing around with the odds of making babies at a time like this, but it also felt good. Exhilarating, even, feeling him empty his balls in that space between your wet, aching walls and filling you up with his seed.
Maybe just one little mini-Bucky wouldn’t—
STOP.
You barely had the energy to acknowledge, much less arbitrate that bone-crushing conflict between your brain and reproductive organs, so you shut the thoughts up with a quick, messy kiss to Bucky, whose chest was still heaving from the peak of his release, holding you to him.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Maybe even two—
FUCK YOU.
The internal war wouldn’t go away that easy, it seemed.
You kissed Bucky long and hard regardless, hoping the shit would sort itself out before you really had to think. Or worry. Or plan. It was dumb and a bit short-sighted, but feeling that hot, erratic pulse between your legs did a pretty good job of making it seem just fine for right now.
Bucky’s expression was lax. Soaking in the feel of your cum-painted insides still squeezing around him, gently. Had he been anywhere but the heart of Low Town on a covert mission in a strip club, hunting down the head of HYDRA with a whole troupe of trained assassins, he probably would’ve liked to stay that way a little longer. But, as it was, he could already hear folks filing in and out of the lounge, footfalls growing heavier as his team loaded up with guns, grenades, and whatever other weapons they could fit beneath their formal attire.
“Don’t look so sad,” you said as you lifted off of Bucky. Carefully pulling your panties back into place as your husband watched you do it, practically forlorn.
“Too late,” he returned in half a groan, yanking his own clothes where they needed to be and trailing a look up your legs, “Might feel better if we tried it again, though.”
“I bet.” You pulled your dress over your head.
Your husband had just tightened his belt and was rolling his shoulders to get a knot out of his neck, it seemed.
“What are your thoughts on ‘Bucky Jr.’?” he asked casually.
“Don’t start with this shit.”
“Jamie for a girl, maybe?”
“I’ll kill you.”
Your baby talk and death threat tête-à-tête continued for quite some time—just a couple minutes, but they felt like years to you—and before long, you were rubbing the gun under your dress and casting a glare in Bucky’s direction, and he got the sense that it was time to head back to the group. He looped an arm around your waist and led you out into the main space.
The living room was little more than a makeshift headquarters at that point. You’d been expecting to see more faces, but the only ones you found were Sam, Natasha, and a few silent, beefy individuals you assumed were part of security. Where Sharon and your parents had gotten off to was anyone’s guess. You took a seat on the couch.
“Anything yet?” Bucky questioned, approaching the panel of surveillance screens with a wary eye.
“We’ve had intermittent visuals on the second floor for forty minutes or so—” Sam motioned to one screen on the left, “—but Schröder hasn’t moved. Hasn’t done anything but bullshit and booze and buy rounds for his group. Won’t even talk to the dancers, which is weird.”
From what you’d been told, the goal was to get Schröder off the second floor, up to one particular private suite on fourth, then send in an agent dressed as a bottle girl to make entry as soon as the rest of the party had arrived, keeping in contact with HQ, and Sam, via PTT earpiece all the while. The details from that point were hazy, but you’d gotten the sense that someone—or, more likely, a sizable and duly-equipped group of someones—was lying in wait somewhere in the suites surrounding them. Steve had been tasked with leading the incursion, though where he could be found, or whom he was with, remained largely a mystery to you. Recon in a bustling, crowded area with music blaring on all four sides was a formidable undertaking, and you could tell both Sam and Natasha had been having trouble keeping tabs on every player. They seemed on edge, monitoring the screens.
“Won’t talk to the dancers?” Bucky’s brow pinched in.
“Won’t talk to anyone outside of his inner circle,” Natasha said, grim, “Which leads me to think he’s not staying here long. Probably called his associates in for a speedy-quick deal because he knows he’s being tailed.”
“Hasn’t engaged with any of our undercovers?” Bucky pressed.
Natasha and Sam shook their heads. Your husband groaned.
“Then how the hell are we getting him upstairs to the champagne room? If he hasn’t budged and doesn’t look like he’s planning to stay?”
The looks on the faces in front of him said there wasn’t one readily available answer—or any answer at all. Bucky turned back to the screens and seemed to survey the whole panel, gaze cooling with the first inkling that this operation may be classed a failure in the very near future.
He barked some half-coherent babble about strategy, security, and failsafes, then barked for Steve.
And, as if on cue, Steve appeared at the threshold of the room a moment later, breathless and slightly flushed.
“Rogers, you’re suppos—” Sam started, eyes widening at something you couldn’t quite discern from his arrival.
“I know, I know,” Steve cut in, fast, “Want the good news or bad news fir—”
“Just spit it out,” Natasha said, preemptively unnerved.
“Schröder’s headed to the suite right now—”
Bucky raised both eyebrows at Steve as he continued.
“—but they won’t let Wanda in.”
‘Fuck’ was the first audible word from your husband, then Sam, in short order. Wanda must have been the agent playing bottle girl upstairs. This didn’t sound good.
“Why the fuck won’t they let her in?” Bucky snapped.
“Someone might’ve tipped his security off. Or else they’re just being extra cautious about who’s let in.”
Steve fiddled with one cufflink on his suit and tried not to appear too despondent, but the implications of this single event were huge, you could read on every face in the room. Wanda had been meant to do something important before the rest of the brigade mobilized—take some key step that couldn’t be omitted from the plan.
“So we retreat.” Natasha was not one to mince her words, per usual, “Get your guys out of the suites now.”
Bucky’s fingers twitched at his sides.
“No,” he said, sharply, “We’re not doing that.”
“Bucky.”
“We’ll get someone in there. We’ll find another way.”
Your husband was already pacing the space in front of you, and you looked on with uncertain eyes. You chanced a look to Natasha, Sam, and Steve, all of whom shared similar, albeit slightly more wearied, expressions as they watched and murmured among themselves.
“None of our people are getting up there, Barnes. Schröder’s got a goddamn sixth sense about our agents or something,” Steve said, at length.
“They’re all in masks—for a fucking masquerade—and we can’t get one person in?! In-and-out, that’s all it needs to be,” Bucky growled.
“We can’t get in there, that’s the point,” Sam sighed, “Masks or no masks, they know our people too well and won’t let us through.”
“We can at least try, for Christ’s sake. That’s what we came this whole fuckin’ way to do, right?”
When no one said a word in response, Bucky scowled,
“Right?”
There was a lull in the conversation that seemed to last for minutes, when, in reality, couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen seconds. Tensions were high. You could tell from the look in Bucky’s eye he was trying not to lash out as he normally would, but in no time at all, you saw a fractional break in his resolve. You feared he might fly off the handle, or else compromise something that couldn’t be spared at a time like this. You swallowed.
“I’ll go.”
It was stupid.
Every face turned to regard you as if you were stupid, you assumed as soon as the words had left your mouth.
But then, much to your surprise, Steve was perking up, eyes suddenly brighter as his gaze tilted to you.
“She could,” he said, shortly.
“Should she?” Sam seemed to murmur at once.
“Sure, why not?”
“I can think of plenty reasons why not,” Natasha was quick to counter, but beneath that pensive expression, you could’ve sworn you saw the smallest degree of contemplation. Even hope, from the looks of it.
‘NO’ was Bucky’s wordless, immediate, and resounding answer as he kicked whatever furniture—a footstool, this time—was closest to him and sent it flying toward the door. It seemed that self-control of his had worn off fast.
“No,” he affirmed in a word a second later, jaw clenched, “She is going nowhere near that suite.”
He didn’t even spare you a glance while he spoke. He was too busy eyeing the others, Steve specifically, as his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths and a light, blooming tinge of pink rose the length of his neck. If it weren’t for that staunch and menacing look on his face, he would’ve almost looked cute, you mused to yourself.
But, pretty man be damned, you wouldn’t stand for being ignored. Fuck that noise.
“I will,” you returned, a little more resolute this time.
Now Bucky had no choice but to pivot to you. His expression softened some, but not by much.
“No,” he said, again.
“Yes.”
“Baby—”
“Don’t fucking ‘baby’ me, Barnes. You said someone who wasn’t an agent could make it up there, and I can do it. Or try, at least, like you just said.”
If your attention hadn’t been fixed on your husband, you probably would’ve caught sight of more than one thinly veiled smile from the group around you. Natasha, in particular, all but tickled to see someone stand up to Bucky and give him a taste of his own shit—and live to tell the tale. The sight of her boss’s eyes almost glossy in the first tender look she’d seen from him in years was almost too much to bear. Steve stood grinning beside her, and Sam narrowly stifled an exhale of amusement. Neither you nor Bucky flinched from your positions.
“We can’t risk you being around him. They’re already all on high-alert,” your husband said after a calming breath.
“As are all your trigger-happy comrades waiting just ten feet outside the door, right?” you replied, “What is it, like, five, ten of them in total?”
“Twenty,” Steve interjected. Bucky shot him a look.
“I don’t care. I don’t want you up there when that fucker was just trying to— to kidnap you last week. I’m not—”
“Right. Right. Trying to kidnap me, not kill me. If Schröder wanted me dead, he would’ve made pretty quick work of that before,” you cut in, tone a touch more deliberate, “Even if he sniffs me out, he’s not gonna screw this whole deal by hurting me now.”
But the mere suggestion of harm to you had seemed to raise every hair on its end for Bucky, and then he was shaking his head, evidently more stubborn than ever.
“No, fuck. Don’t start,” he snapped with his newfound indignation, then, quieter, “Please…don’t, honey.”
You wouldn’t bow that easily.
“Why not?”
Truly, Bucky couldn’t be certain if it was the lilt in your voice, the pinch at the sides of your lips, or simply the sincerity consuming your eyes as you spoke to him, but the man could not stomach the thought of you, his own wife, being a stone’s throw from mortal danger and beyond his protection—or control, he wasn’t sure which one of the two was more dominating. Some cruel and unforgiving knot inside him came to tighten, and twist, and, nauseating as it was set on escape, the white-hot surge rose like bile in his throat. Before he could stop it, the words were spilling out through his teeth like froth:
“Cause I fuckin’ said so, that’s why. That’s it. It’s settled. You’re not allowed anywhere near him, you hear me?”
What Bucky hadn’t expected was the swift ascent back to your feet. The cool and almost careless expression as you rose, as though his words hadn’t registered at all.
He certainly hadn’t expected you to check him with your shoulder as you passed, knocking him slightly off-balance as he turned, in shock, and watched you give him one manicured middle finger over your left shoulder.
“Rogers, I’d like you to escort me upstairs.”
Worst of all, Bucky hadn’t expected Steve to listen.
Fortunately for him, the night was still young and with it, more than ample opportunity to be proven wrong again. And again.
“And again,” Steve murmured low in your ear as you walked side-by-side down the corridor on fourth floor, “If you get even the slightest bad feeling, you leave.”
“Might as well dip right now,” you muttered, adjusting your mask. Your attempt at humor fell flat with the man.
“I’m serious. We’ll be right outside and listening in from headquarters, but HYDRA is not a faction to fuck around with, or underestimate—as I assume you know by now.”
You did. Or would, eventually.
After the mask, you were busy trying to yank the back of your cocktail waitress dress to cover the full swell of your ass, not just the upper two-thirds. Unsurprisingly, it was a tougher task than you had been prepared to handle. Your new heels were tight and impossibly high, your new dress a mere scrap of pink fabric riddled with sequins and glitter, and your mask—holy fuck, were you glad Mardi Gras was not a year-round affair. Bucky had insisted on the fluffiest, stuffiest, full-face covering to ensure that no one would be able to recognize you, but in exchange for your anonymity, you had had to give up breathing, it seemed.
And then there was that vial of poison between your tits.
Sam had assured you that it was a nonlethal dose before handing it over; Steve had urged you, discreetly, to pour Schröder two for good measure. Natasha had overheard the latter and threatened legal action if he ever tried killing a target without her permission. You hadn’t spent much longer getting ready in the bathroom after that. Then you’d brushed past your husband the second you’d stepped out and strapped that last, semi-lethal ‘accessory’ to your bra before taking the lift upstairs.
As it turned out, you weren’t able to escape him entirely.
While you walked with Steve, Bucky was in your ear.
Literally—the man was talking nonstop through your earpiece and clearly had no intention of shutting the fuck up anytime soon. You silently wondered if there was a way to adjust the volume on the gadget as you ambled along.
“Honey.” There was a slightly more mechanical buzz to Bucky’s voice over your private line. You ignored it.
“So just find the cup he’s drinking from and pour the serum in?” you reiterated to Steve for the third time in the last ten minutes.
Your companion nodded, rattling off a few extra precautions while Bucky’s tone rang out a bit louder:
“Honey? You there?”
At last, you stuck your finger to the tiny flesh-colored device in your ear and snapped, “What?!”
“I love you.”
This fucker.
“I love you too. You’re still high on my shit list, though,” you answered, low and begrudgingly.
“Did I hear ‘hit list’? You’re gonna let me tap that later?”
If you didn’t have about fifteen different reasons to hate the man’s guts, you almost would’ve chuckled. At length, you muttered a quiet, ‘Kiss my ass, Barnes,’ and turned back to Steve, who was just then leading you closer to a room roped off and marked ‘EXECUTIVE SUITE.’ Your stomach did a flip as you paused around the corner.
“Right there. All you gotta do is knock and say a guy named Zemo sent you,” Steve spoke slowly, as if he were teaching arts and crafts to a five-year-old and not a woman about to embark on a high-risk sedation mission.
You nodded and took the silver tray from him carefully.
All the platter contained was an oversized bottle of Brut and a silver bucket, but damn if it didn’t feel like you were carrying the world and some change on that thing. You shifted your weight from foot to foot and turned in the direction of the door just a few yards away.
The time for painstakingly descriptive instructions and pep talks was long past you now. You nodded to Steve one last time and started to wobble over.
The entryway was flanked by two muscle-bound men. You approached with a smile.
“Hi. Zemo sent me.”
You didn’t know who the fuck Zemo was.
You hoped they wouldn’t ask, or notice how stilted and awkward you’d sounded just then. You swallowed a peach-sized lump in your throat and smiled again.
The one on the left grunted. The one on the right gave a nod. Without a word spoken between them, the former opened the door and made way for you to step over the threshold. You couldn’t help but notice both with their eyes trained straight on your tits as you passed by.
There was no way that had just worked. No pat-downs or harrowing threats? Not a single, searing interrogation into your identity or what you might be there to do?
Men were dumb, you decided, far too easily deceived by a decent pair of tits—HYDRA security personnel or not.
But you already knew that. You stepped inside.
The fetid stench of half a dozen blazing cigars and booze spilled on every surface were the first to greet you. A wave of smoke, then a bone-jostling bum bum bum to the beat of what sounded like a Don Toliver song came next. You almost couldn’t bear to make your feet move.
But then, shortly, you had to because a shrill, shimmer-doused beauty was waving you over toward the kitchen.
“Ba-by!” she shrieked, gesture growing frantic, “Bring it over!”
You walked with the tray out in front of you, careful with your steps across the sticky floor. When you made it over, where one other girl was stirring wildly at some concoction on the counter, you stopped, and had only to stand for a second longer, because the redhead that had beckoned you was taking the tray, setting it down, and grabbing something thin and pointy. You’d barely even registered it as an ice pick until the thing was thrust in your face.
“Crush it up,” she ordered, one curt nod toward a block of ice nearby. Evidently not giving a shit who you were or where you’d come from either. You guessed Wanda had just gotten unlucky, or they’d all stopped giving a fuck once Schröder’s men had really started drinking.
And drinking they had been, as your eyes surveyed the scene. Half-naked women with fully-clothed men, dressed head to toe in the finest of suits that were probably soaked through to the bone with sweat and Stolichnaya. You almost shivered at the sight of all the masked, wildly gyrating pricks, fumbling desperately through one verse of ‘After Party.’ You could vomit.
But where was your prick? That grimy little shit, Joey.
“Back of the room by the couch,” Bucky said, as if he’d read your mind.
Then a beat.
“Wait. Shit. That isn’t him. Schröder’s over by the door.”
How many tall, lanky blonds could there be in this place? You cast a sweeping look across the room and received your answer in less than two shakes of a lamb’s tail—there were a shit ton of Joey lookalikes all around.
“Careful. Mr. Schröder’s been on edge all night. Might bite your head off if you stare too long.”
The girl that was stirring had apparently caught you looking. She set the spoon aside and turned, but not before chancing a quick glance at the man Bucky had identified to you as your target. The man lifted his gaze.
You chipped away at the ice even faster.
Crush the shit, make a drink, pour the serum, and get it in him. Now. Don’t draw his attention just yet, though.
Something in your head told you to steal another look. You knew it was a bad idea, but you went on and did it anyway—and fortunately, felt a wave of relief at seeing that he’d retreated somewhere back with his friends. The ice pick in your hands made it through the last block.
“I’ll serve the shots, you bring the bottle to Mr. Pierce.”
Mr. Who?
“One of Schröder’s associates. Roll with it.”
It was Natasha’s voice now. Measured, but tense.
“He’s the older gentlemen straight ahead. He probably ordered the champagne for him and the others.”
That was Sam. You could only imagine how all of them looked huddled around the surveillance panel with the transmitter to your earpiece being passed about from person to person. The grip Bucky must’ve had on his gun, or his switchblade, or whatever weapon he could seize to make himself feel a little less helpless. But he was—as were you. And truthfully, there was nothing either one of you could do about that until Schröder was in custody. This was the first step toward reaching that goal.
So you walked with the bottle, now bathed in a tub of ice. You tried to keep steady, but the staggering drunks all around were making that tough, to say the least.
When one man struck you straight in the chest, elbows jutting out as he danced, you stumbled back a step. Nearly lost the tray for half a second, then recovered.
Until the dipshit hit you again.
This time you truly almost sent the bottle sailing for the floor, grip slipping on the tray and knees buckling underneath you as the force of the blow set you back. You bit a quick, ‘Fuck!’ in the air, seized the platter twice as hard and braced your weight against something firm behind you. A shelf, a TV stand, or something. Maybe a half-wall if you were lucky enough not to have careened against some expensive piece of furniture. You sighed.
“Everything alright?” a voice rumbled behind you.
Or a person. Yeah, a person would be pretty fucking bad to bump into at a time like this. Your whole body froze.
You turned.
“Ye-es sir. Yes, sir.” You quickly righted your tone the second you realized it was someone important.
Not Schröder, but someone who seemed to be big-name enough; you just weren’t sure who. The man smiled down at you from under his Venetian mask.
“Is this for me?” he nodded toward the tray, half-teasing.
You swallowed.
“Are you Mr. Pierce?” you asked.
The man’s grin stretched even wider.
“Nope, I’m Ward. but I can take you to Pierce.”
For the first time that night, your heart swelled with some promise. You thanked him quietly, gratefully, then made as if to follow him back through the crowd, when all of a sudden, you stopped. That heartfelt swelling in your chest halted right along with it. You almost dropped the tray.
“Schröder!” Ward bellowed.
No, no, now you were actually going to lose your shit. There was no way in hell you were keeping a grip on this silver little plate any longer without crying or screaming or shitting your pretty, pink, sequin minidress right there. You almost shrieked when a hand reached for the tray.
“Pierce got you doing all the heavy lifting, huh, honey? The bastard.” Even through his own ornate mask, you could tell Joey was grinning—glinting with conceit, as was his prerogative. He took the load off your hands.
“Take it easy now, he’s just—”
“Staring at your rack. Pull your top up, baby, please.”
The chatter in your ear had switched from Sam to Bucky at nearly lightning speed. You glanced down at your cleavage and tugged the fabric up quick, heart beating even faster underneath it.
In front of you, Joey Schröder was all teeth. A gruesome spectacle in spite of its seemingly benevolent intentions, one smile could have turned your stomach sideways. And it did—you wanted to throw up again—but you knew you had bigger fish to fry, and evil mobsters to poison. You didn’t flinch when Schröder nudged you in the shoulder and made his way ahead, coaxing you to follow.
You didn’t tense and didn’t protest. Didn’t blink when he led you straight through the party, around a few topless performers on poles, and into a backroom lounge.
In fact, your mind practically sang as he led you inside.
It was just every other nerve, muscle, and trembling tendon not under the immediate control of your brain that needed soothing. You could’ve sworn the men on the couches would see your legs shaking as soon as you trudged into the room and sniff you out on sight.
But if they had, they didn’t show it.
No one moved when you entered, save for a few lopsided grins and tilts of happy, masked faces. Sizing you up. Drinking you in. Far too easily mistakable for a band of apex predators that had just caught wind of their next meal, and not a room full of sleazy Russian mobsters. You bit back your grating disgust with a smile.
“Got a present for ya, Pierce,” Schröder announced.
A honey-blond head flecked with silver and white sat up from the sofa. Presumably the one who’d ordered the champagne.
“Oh yeah? What’d ya pay for her?” he returned, mouth curling up in a wicked smile.
Even above the booming music, you could make out peals of laughter as the men around you shared in some lewd, crude comments and several whispers exchanged between them. You would’ve liked to grab your bottle by the neck and break it over the nearest patron’s head, but then you remembered yourself, and your mission. You stilled beside Schröder and let them crack a few more tasteless jokes at your expense. Schröder chuckled and set the tray down in front of a thoroughly amused Pierce.
Then he grabbed you by the waist.
“Right. I forgot to ask—what is your price, sweetheart?” he said, swiftly pulling you up to his front.
Your hands flew to his chest reflexively. Your nose scrunched in a wince at the sound of an electric shout:
“GET HIM OFF OF HER!”
“Bucky, hey, hey, we can’t just—”
“NO! THAT’S NOT PART OF THE FUCKING PL—”
The line went silent. You scratched at the space behind your ear, trying hard not to betray any pain on your face, or the fear for what might be going on downstairs.
Clearly, you failed on both fronts, because Joey’s grip only tightened. He peered down at you, curious.
“You deaf or somethin’, sugar? What’s your price?”
You batted your eyes, momentarily struggling for words.
But then, somehow, you managed to choke out, stomach churning with bile:
“Whatever you want, sir.”
You felt your soul drain out through the soles of your shoes as you’d said it. Something fell from your face—most likely a light behind your eyes and any semblance of self-worth as you stood before the man who had tried to buy you, drug you, and kill half your family, and then pretend like you wanted to dance for him, or do more.
It wasn’t real.
It wasn’t right by any means, but it was all just roleplay.
Roleplay.
You had to keep telling yourself that as you let Schröder’s hand glide up your spine and grip the back of your neck, tilting your head up to his. It was just like your husband and his cold-blooded Winter Soldier persona, you tried to convince the increasingly frightened voice in your mind. Just like him, just like your sweet and soft and sadistic—
“Bucky,” you whispered unconsciously.
You knew he couldn’t hear you now. It was almost insane to think anyone could save you now but yourself.
“What?” Joey exhaled sharply.
You froze in fear.
“Five hundred bucks,” you corrected your error quickly.
You weren’t sure Schröder was convinced.
“Five hundred bucks for one lap dance and some fun?” he scoffed. Then he squeezed your neck a little tighter and drew your face within an inch of his own. You could feel the hot puffs of breath, smell the rancid liquor on his tongue, but you stayed where he held you in place and tried not to grimace when he said, “That’s a damn steal.”
Your lips were shaking something awful under your mask. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what kissing this vile, soulless bastard would taste like, but you feared it might come sooner than you knew, because Joey was drawing you even more rough and tight into his chest.
Just when your mouth was less than a hair’s breadth away from his, though, you heard a woman’s scream.
Then another. And another. And another.
Before long, almost half the suite had erupted in shrieks, it seemed, and the sounds of their horror were shortly supplanted by a series of explosions. And gunfire.
Johann Schröder dropped your body like the worst habit known to man and went bounding away from the turmoil as fast as he could. This time, you did trip over your heels and took a nasty little nosedive to the ground. Fumbling, crawling, then sliding across the shag carpet on your belly with your eyes in wild search of somewhere to hide.
You spotted a coffee table and muscled your way over.
“SCHRÖDER!” a voice roared from somewhere behind.
Again, you knew better than to look, but the fear of not knowing who, or what, might be barreling your direction at any second outweighed more sensible considerations. You stole a look over your shoulder and nearly screamed.
A man with a pitch black balaclava stormed into the lounge and wasted no time setting sights on his intended target—raising a Heckler & Koch MP7A1 submachine gun to his face and firing the second the impulse struck.
You watched a once-handsome, lively, and drunk man turn to shredded, fleshy carnage in less than an instant and fall right beside your head with a thud. Your hand was your only defense to keep the shriek inside your chest, but even that blockade was crumbling fast as the blood-soaked assassin wrenched the body in the air.
The gunman tore the mask from his victim’s head and inspected the face—or what was left of it. He cursed.
You could tell from your close proximity to the blues of his eyes, and that sigh, you wouldn’t need to ask at all. You just sat there and stared, knees hugged to your chest as Bucky threw the body back down as hard as he could.
“FUCK!” he bellowed, voice flooded with rage.
Steve stumbled in with his gun at the ready. He eyed the man on the floor, then you, then a dozen other flailing, desperate partygoers trying to escape the suite all around you. You just drew in even tighter to the table.
“What happened?! Where’d he go?”
Rogers, like you, seemed unable to look away from the carcass, but for entirely different reasons. He appeared to be studying it just as your husband had been.
“It’s not Schröder!” Bucky yelled.
“Where the fuck’s he— shit.”
Suddenly, an unknown assailant opened fire on the two men from the opposite end of the room. Both dove for cover, but not before Bucky grabbed you and dragged you, full-force, behind the sofa. It didn’t seem there was time for sweet words or consolations, his eyes wide and half-crazed as they bore into yours just in front of you.
“Don’t move,” he barked, readjusting his grip on his gun in one hand and feeling around all over your sides with the other. On seeing and feeling no trauma, he nodded his head and moved his hand to your cheek, just briefly.
“Honey, I need you here—right here for me, alright? Don’t move a muscle,” he spoke low as Steve covered from above, rapid-fire shots ringing out on both sides.
Rushed and furious as he was, he couldn’t help but linger on that face a half-second longer than he intended. You were shaking your head and hugging your knees, meeting his eyes with what seemed to be reproach.
“You promised, Bucky,” you hissed through gritted teeth.
You were in shock, that was what it was, he kept telling himself. You didn’t know what you were saying, and he needed to turn away to help Steve, but then you were eyeing that body—that man he could’ve sworn was Schröder when he’d pumped him full of bullets—and you were turning back to him with unmistakable disgust.
He would’ve fallen to his knees and begged his wife for forgiveness if there weren’t more pressing matters at hand. Like your life and his, and Steve’s—and Sam’s, now, bursting onto the scene with a semi-automatic rifle of his own as he helped his friend gun down the last of the stragglers. Bucky knew he had to help them, too.
So he’d stumbled back on his feet, less conscious than acting on pure impulse, and he joined in on the gunfire.
He reckoned he liked it. However long it lasted. He just rolled his shoulders once and sent the rounds flying; he ducked and he moved and he stood and he crouched and he fired every shot as if it were as easy to him as breathing. He didn’t think. When the three of them had cleared the lounge, and Sam and Steve tore off toward the two or three remaining rooms at the rear of the suite, Bucky still wasn’t fully present in his body. All he knew was that his clip was near-empty and his side was in pain—and the room they had emptied was safe. For you.
For you—where the fuck had you gone?!
Bucky barreled past the spot behind the couch where you were supposed to have been, but weren’t, and made a beeline for the closest room over. And nothing. More empty, threadbare, and bloody rooms filled with bodies that didn’t belong to you, and shortly he was yelling for Sam or Steve or anyone in that massacred suite to help him find his wife. The breaths in his chest were heaving.
He turned once, twice, eyes roaming wildly and hand grabbing fast for more ammo. He couldn’t find any more. Beads of sweat began to collect on his brow, and just when he turned to call for backup once more, he paused.
In his periphery, he saw two forms.
He stopped fully and turned to the side.
If it was fear he had felt just then, he wasn’t aware of it. Instead, it seemed a white-hot and blinding ire had taken over, and rather than grow timid, or afraid, he went cold.
“Bucky…don’t,” you managed in a strangled, hoarse tone, throat visibly contained by a blade being held to it.
Behind you, a man stood masked and unflinchingly calm.
Bucky knew that wouldn’t do—no matter how hard or helplessly you pleaded with him then not to do it, please don’t do it, Bucky, please. All he heard in his head was the throb of his pulse, and all he saw before him was red.
He fired without a second thought.
The round just grazed the edge of the man’s cheek.
Bucky swore. Tried to fire his gun again. It was empty.
Still not thinking, much less hearing his wife’s desperate cries for him to spare the man’s life, he grabbed the smallest, sharpest object that was closest to him and charged your would-be attacker head on.
Both men fell to the floor, but only Bucky was mobile.
Only Bucky held the weapon now, as his opponent’s knife had been lost somewhere in the skirmish, and he was wielding it now faster than he ever had before, he thought—an ice pick, of all fucking things—driving it into the man’s face and neck and chest without the slightest regard for anything else.
Somewhere far outside his mind, he heard you scream. Felt you claw at his arm, grip at his shirt, make some wild, shrill, and vehement pleas that he couldn’t begin to understand in this state, and he continued. Hadn’t even considered slowing down until the man’s carotid was shredded in two and spewing blood all over his front.
Bucky couldn’t be sure how long it lasted like that; all he remembered was stumbling back, energy spent, fist still holding the pick and eyes duly glued to the body he’d just stabbed through and maimed until no life was left.
He saw you crawl over the body.
He wanted to warn you not to touch it. Lifted a hand and tried his best to form words, but nothing came out.
He watched you lift the mask.
From that point on, he was certain he had to have been seeing things that weren’t really there. Trauma-induced psychosis, he tried to assuage himself silently—that was the only explanation for the scene unfolding before him. Surely it couldn’t be you cupping that face, pinching that skin, shaking that cold and lifeless, blood-drenched frame beneath you as a sob racked through your own.
That signet ring on a pinky couldn’t have been real.
Bucky didn’t want to believe that gruesome discovery made manifest before him—in many ways, he couldn’t—but then it was painted clear as day as the cries endured, nothing changed, and a helpless, frantic wail rang out:
“DAD!”
—
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x you#marvel#mcu#mob bucky barnes#marvel smut#marvel x reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes#mob bucky#mafia!bucky#mafia bucky barnes
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𐙚 How was your date, doll? (William Afton x fem!reader)
In honor of reaching >200 followers, this is a little gift from me <3 thanks for your feedback, comments and reblogs, it means a lot to me!!
After a bad date, your boss William Affon is more than glad to help you.
tags: nsfw, smut, fingering, squirting, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, public sex, pet names, doggy style, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, degrading and praising, dirty talk, dumbification, sir kink, manipulations, secret filming
You have been working for William not so long ago, but you have already become his most beloved employee. He treats you in a special way, even forgiving you for being late. He likes to hand you a cup of coffee in the morning when he sees his beloved girl yawning adorably, still sleepy on the morning shift. He likes to stroke your hair gently at the end of the day, thanking you for your work. He truly appreciates you.
He has been watching you for a long time, noting your habits, your communication style, your gestures. You're so friendly, even already found friends in the team. William saw that many people liked you, visitors and colleagues, of course, such a good and smiling doll. He often wondered if his lovely girl had a boyfriend. Most likely, yes? You're so pretty and sweet, your eyes, lips, nose, everything is so beautiful about you, of course you have a boyfriend. William must be an idiot if he even allowed the idea that his girl was single.
But there was still hope, so he decided to test the water.
“You look so tired, doll. How about I give you a ride to your house?” he killed two birds with one stone. A pet name and ride offer. How will his baby react? William is holding himself together, nothing superfluous, right? It's just goodwill. You're so tired, barely standing on your feet.
“That's so sweet of you, Mr. Afton,” you look at him in surprise and the corners of your lips rise. “yeah, please, I'm so exhausted and my feet hurt.” It's the first time you've got in his car. Doubts crept into William's mind, if you had a boyfriend, you'd turn him down, right?
It's so interesting to talk to you, you're a good listener, and William has a lot to tell you, and at the same time ask you a couple of questions while you're sleepy. Just to make sure that his girl isn't in a relationship.
As he drops you off at your house, William tries his best to look casual. “Goodnight, doll,” he whispers softly, gently stroking a lock of your hair behind your ear. And here's another action that you didn't reject. If you had a boyfriend, you wouldn't let other man touch you like that, would you?
More time has passed, and with it more names have been added to you, more touches, more glances from Mr. Afton. You got along pretty well, William always found an approach to people. However his affection for you only grows stronger, but your personal life is changing too, just yesterday one person invited you on a date. If only William knew.
He's suspicious; something about your demeanor today isn't quite right. You're obviously acting more cheerful than usual, wearing makeup for the first time he's seen you which somehow makes you even more beautiful. You whisper to your friends, giggle softly, covering your mouth with your hand, a slight blush on your cheeks. Who are you talking about? William's gut tells him there's something different about his beloved girl today. What are you hiding?
“Mr. Afton?” his thoughts and assumptions are interrupted by your voice, he adjusts his glasses, slightly lost, he clearly wasn't listening to what you asked him a minute ago. He politely asks you to repeat it. “Uhm. . . I was wondering if I could leave early today?”
William raises an eyebrow thoughtfully. “Why exactly? Work isn't over yet.” a small smile tugs at his lips. “Unless there's some emergency. . .”
“It's just that I have an important meeting today.” your palms sweating slightly and your voice doesn't sound as confident as you want.
He raises his eyebrows, an amused gleam in his eyes. “A meeting, huh? Sounds interesting. Who is it with?”
And that's when you can no longer fight the feeling that you're lying to a person who trusts you a lot. Your excitement is becoming more noticeable and William already understands that this isn't an ordinary meeting. He's not stupid, but his jealous nature didn't want to believe to the last that you'd sooner or later find someone. And that's when he hears from his sweet girl, “I'm going on a date, sir,” fuck, the way you say it in such happy and naive tone, as if yourself can't fully realize it yet.
He doesn't want to let you go, he hates the idea of someone touching his beloved girl, kissing your lips, having. . . sex with you?
But everything changes the very next day, when you appear at work with your head down, your sweet face is tinged with sadness. You're distracted, silent, thoughtful.
“How was your date, doll?” a question when you don't expect it at all. The shift was already coming to an end, and you, all confused in your thoughts, didn't even notice. You give him a sad look, hoping that he'll read the answer in your eyes. But William still looks worried, even though he knows what happened, he needs his girl to admit it.
You look around. “I don't really want to talk about it.” you mumble.
You're just shy because you don't want anyone else to hear, William knows. That's why he leans towards you, too close. “Let's go to my office.” he offers, his voice tempting.
When you find yourself in his office, he closes the door behind you and sits down on a small couch in the corner, beckoning you to join him. You feel a little stiff and insecure, but as soon as you sit down next to Mr. Afton, your anxiety evaporates, and you feel a bit better. You trust him very much, you really need to hear a second opinion, especially from such a mature and experienced person as William Afton, who, although divorced, was married anyway. It's hard to hide your emotions, especially when you're new to this experience and relationships overall, when it's your first kisses, touches, hugs.
That's when he looks so sympathetic, interested in helping you and says, “Tell me what happened.” you obediently blurt out everything. You explain to him, your voice quiet and sometimes you're silent, as if afraid to say too much. You tell William everything, how your date started out sweet, romantic, how good it was in the beginning, and then when he started touching you, kissing not only your lips, but also your neck and collarbone, you stopped liking it. It became unbearable, uncomfortable, you didn't want this person, you felt no desire. It's an inexplicable feeling that you've experienced. And in some way, you even blame yourself for rejecting your so called boyfriend.
“I was lost, so I let him touch me. I knew that sooner or later we would go further, but for some reason I didn't want to do this with. . .” you pause thoughtfully. “him.”
“Did he touch you here?” William puts his hand on your thigh. You shudder, such a strange question that you definitely never expected. But trusting William, you think that's the way it should be and nod. “Was it unpleasant or uncomfortable?”
“I didn't feel anything,” you shrug helplessly. “and then it felt like he didn't understand my signal and started kissing me more aggressively, it was too much for me.”
“It's completely normal to feel this way,” William explains, stroking your thigh. “Some people just can't be physically attracted to certain partners. It's not a reflection on you. The important thing is that you listen to your own body and emotions, if something doesn't feel right, trust yourself enough to speak up.” he's trying to ease your discomfort, as he talks, his fingers move slowly higher on your leg, gradually reaching closer to a forbidden zone.
You get goosebumps, immediately there's a feeling of warmth that spreads nicely through your body, such an acute reaction to William's touch, something that you never experienced with your boyfriend.
You're his naive little bunny, so trusting, sweet, blinded, yet curious about his opinion, craving his advice and help, support. “Your body knows what it wants, princess. You felt weird because your gut told you he wasn't the right one to satisfy you. On a subconscious level, you realized that he's not the person you would like to give yourself to. You need someone who understands your body. Someone capable enough to pleasure you, doll.”
William notices something much more than just guilt in your eyes, something sparking in them. That's when he catches your gaze on his lips, your eyes dreamy, as if you're not listening to him at all.
“I can give you that, darling. You deserve to be satisfied fully, someone who knows what they're doing and won't disappoint you.” you contemplating his words, comparing him to your boyfriend; William seems more understanding, experienced and dominant than any man you knew. “because I'm well aware of how to pleasure a girl like you.”
You don't pull away and let William kiss you, his hand squeezes your thigh, causing you to moan softly into his mouth. This is the first time you've felt so sensitive, you gasp when finally his hand slides to your clothed pussy. Your brows furrow and you let out a sudden “ahhh” as you pull away, lips parted. William continues moving his palm all over your core, his fingers rubbing you through panties, your skirt hiking up.
“You're wet just because I kissed you, doll. Was it different with him?”
“Much different,” you breathe out. “this. . . feels better.” your pussy throbbing in anticipation as his fingers push the fabric of your panties to the side, exposing you to his hungry eyes. “Sir, i don't know if—"
“I want to help you figure this out. We're already halfway there, we've already found out that your body doesn't want him, honey. I don't want you to get upset about yourself or men, I don't want you to think that sex is something unpleasant.” he understands that his little girl still in doubt, that you're shy, your face is confused, your lips are pursed, you're afraid to make a moan, but your eyes speak for you. So pleading, so needy, begging.
His thumb caresses your sensitive bundle and you whimper, grinding subtly against his finger, wanting more of those new sensations. Your curious gaze drops lower, noticing a distinct bulge in William's pants. “He had one too when we kissed. . .” you mutter. William gently guides your hand towards the outline of his erection through his pants.
“Of course he did,” he husks out. “It's impossible not to get hard around someone as beautiful as you.” William feels like his dick is about to explode right in his pants as your hand hesitantly starts stroking his bulge. You've never felt anything so hard before; he notices his little girl's eyes widen at the size of him, making you even wetter. “That's right, babygirl. Let your hands explore, feel just how much you affect me.”
“Has he ever made you cum, doll?”
“No, i couldn't. . .”
“Then let me take care of that.” William doesn't stop rubbing your little clit with his fingers, moving in smooth circle movements, what makes your head spin. You spread your legs wider due to overwhelming bliss, breathing heavily, your hand no longer on his bulge as you hold onto his wrist instead, as if trying to stop him or control, but not really, yourself don't know what your doing.
“Ahh— Nn, that feels weird!. . .” your body writhing beneath his touch. “S-sir, wait, wait!” you moan, he never stops stroking your wet folds.
“Just let go, babygirl, it's okay, you're supposed to feel that way.” he purrs in your ear. The sounds you're making are too loud, but beautiful for a man like William, so he doesn't give a fuck, rubbing your clit just a little bit faster to bring you to orgasm. As you cum, your body shudder uncontrollably, your hole clenching around nothing. “Such a good girl.” you bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the gasps escaping your lips, because you've never felt anything as this before.
His erection aches painfully in his pants at the sight of his girl coming in his arms. You just realize what happened. “S-sir. . . That—”
“Didn't expect you to cum that fast.” he smirks and continues stroking your sensitive clit even after your orgasm subsides, making you jolt. You feel embarrassed at this comment now. “Now that's what happens when you're in hands of experienced man, princess.”
His words and especially calm yet dominating tone of voice have your pussy throbbing with need again, your mind hazy. You blink couple of times, still trying to come to your senses, but it's so fucking hard when his hands never leave your body, caressing you, even groping you. You bat your eyelashes at him as his fingers teases your wet entrance.
“Your body didn't react that way to him, did it?”
“No. . . ” you whisper.
“That's what I thought," he hums, finally slipping one finger inside your warm, wet cunt. You immediately gasp, feeling sudden stretch, William takes a deep breath as you squeeze his finger. “such a tight little pussy. No wonder your boyfriend couldn't get you even wet.” he pumps his finger in and out of you, watching your face contorted with pleasure.
“Sir, ohh. . .”
“That's it, keep calling me that and I'll make sure to train this pussy cumming only on my cock and fingers,” he growls, adding another finger inside your already wet slit while kissing a trail along your neck. He pinches and rolls your clit between his fingers. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be out there as a dried up little bitch who never got any satisfaction.”
“No, oh!. . .” you babble and glance at him in surprise, not expecting such degrading words, but as soon as your messy pussy clenches on his fingers, he can't help, but laugh. “Too much—”
“It's okay, bunny,” William curls his fingers up inside you, pressing on that sweet and sensitive spot that have you choking on your moans. “I'm just giving you what that prick of yours supposed to, making you squirt over my fingers, feels good, hm?” that's when he picks up a speed, finger-fucking you in fast rhythm, a small puddle forms on the couch under you.
“Waittt!. . . Ohh god, i can't! It feels so weird, sir,” there's panic in your voice as now this feeling is definitely not comparable to the previous orgasm, you sob and maintain eye contact with William, too shy to look down. He's pumping his fingers in your tight pussy, reaching deeper. “Please, wait!”
Your mouth hangs open and eyes roll back as you coat coach under you and drip on his fingers. William enjoys that cute scared and confused look on his little girl's face, he can feel the hotness of your cunt as you squirt, wet sloppy fucking filthy sounds it makes. You look absolutely hot and there's no way he's that lucky to finally have you in his hands.
“Damn it, doll, you should be grateful that I'm here teaching you how to properly fuck.” William pulls his fingers out, a satisfied smirk as he looks at the mess he created. “I bet you don't even know what an orgasm feels like until I gave it to you.”
Your eyes full with tears, body weak as you watch how William sucks his fingers clean, groaning at your heavenly taste. He manhandles you, putting you on all fours, slipping your panties off and unbuttoning your shirt to have access to your bare breasts. You don't even get what's going on, it's like your brain has leaked out through your pussy, but you love the way he behaves. That's what you needed. You press back into him and then hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, you nervous, but still glance over your shoulder with puppy eyes, lips pouty and cheeks burning. William pulls down his pants and reveals his cock.
“Tell me, princess, did the thought of his dick turn you on?“ you shake your head, he sighs. “You made a mistake, admit it, you stumbled, but you know, you're still a good girl because you came to your senses in time. You came to me, as a good girl should, that's because you know you need something better than him.” William's words make you almost cry at how true they are. In fact, you didn't like your boyfriend, you just didn't want to admit it, just was happy someone noticed you and liked you, but having a man like William around, it was hard not to succumb.
“It didn't feel right with him, as if there should have been someone other. . . Not him.” William teases his tip against your slit, rubbing sensually, you grip the couch, too desperate to finally feel him inside.
“You made the right decision, doll, you know that I'll always help you.” he tells you, while his hands carefully and gently fix your hair, all this time you feel his swollen cock runs through your folds. “It's good that you came to me, because someone else could just take advantage of you. But not me, sweetie, I'm here for you.”
“Please, sir, put it in, please—”
“You didn't beg him like that, did you?” his hands grabs your hips, squeezing the flesh hard enough to leave marks.
You shook your head, feeling a real fire igniting inside as your body doesn't obey, but begs for what it didn't receive on yesterday's date. A real good fuck.
“That's right,” he smacks your ass, pushing only tip inside of you, but that already enough to make your eyes widen and choked cry escape from your mouth. “you should feel lucky that I've taken notice of you and offered my help. Imagine if some other filthy jerk had gotten ahold of such clueless doll like you?”
“No, mr. Afton,” you're not yet able to realize what that feeling is, because you simply don't know, you're mindless, but every nerve is on edge, you're trembling with desperation. “i don't want anyone else, just you!”
“Fuck, you're so fucking hot inside, bunny,” William groans huskily as he pushes his length fully, your walls welcoming him with warmness and crazy tightness. Your knees weak, but William's hands wraps around you, not letting his precious girl fall. He leans towards you, almost pressing you into the couch, his breath on your skin. “sh, sh, babygirl, don't cry, don't cry,” he mutters in your ear while slowly starting to move. He frowns, trying not to moan loudly himself, but how can he hold back when your little pussy is so perfectly wrapped around his dick? So wet, warm and— “oh fuuuck, bunny!. . .”
You're shaking under him, mewling loudly and drooling as you cum, just from having his cock inside. Your eyes filled with sweet tears and nonstop “ohmygoood” slipping from your lips.
“You're full of surprises, dear.” William smiles and presses your head into the couch to shut you up. You can't make noise in the workplace, the most important rule. And that's when he fucks all the air and the last remnants of the brain out of you, starting to slam into your throbbing cunt. “Your taking me so well.”
William's dick presses deeper into you, your back arches. He knows what he does to you, but you don't, not yet. You swear you can feel his cock already penetrating where it's impossible, so deep in you that it begins to cause discomfort and pain. But you can't stop the madness that's going on, completely forgotten even your boyfriend's name, and what happened yesterday, as if no date ever happened. As if everything is as it should be, William Afton balls deep inside you, fucking your brains out, as it should be. All you can do is feel his cock filling you up, as it should.
“Nnggh— that feels, ohh— please!” you say through watery eyes, trying to wiggle your ass to draw him deeper into your pussy, but his grip on you is firm, so you have no choice but to just let yourself be used as a fleshlight.
Oh, poor little helpless and needy doll, William thinks. He sees how you grip the couch tighter, your glassy eyes, vision blurry, head empty, but cunt filled.
“You shouldn't have ignored your desires before.” he groans. “You're such a good girl, you deserve my dick, every fucking inch of it. I'll make you my little slut, who'll come to me at the end of the shift to have her pussy well fucked and filled with my cum. Every weekend at my place, where you can scream as loud as you want as I ruin your pussy.”
“That, nnngh— sounds so beautiful, sir.” you turn your head slightly towards William and give him the perfect view of how messy you are, dumbfounded, with silly smile on your peachy face, brows furrowed, drooling, your gaze isn't focused on him.
He thrusts roughly into you and you cry loudly when his tip reaches your cervix. He fucks you into oblivion. You're nearing your orgasm, your pussy preparing to cum one more time. William ruts deep into you, having no mercy on his girl as he lets his cock slide along your walls. The beautiful sounds your pussy squelching, your muffled cries and begs, of skin slapping filling his office.
“Yeahhh, I'll take care of you, don't you worry.” he grunts, you're breathless and limp in his arms, but when his hand travels down, his fingers finding your clit and starting to circle it, your closing your legs, shaking. “Spread them.” he commands you, but you can't really obey as your clit is way too sensitive and overstimulated. “I said spread your damn legs, doll.”
“No, no, sir, please— too sensitive, i can't!” you whine, your throat dry, but that only annoy him so he forces your legs open. His pace getting faster and his fingers rubbing on your bundle, what makes your mouth open in silent scream.
Soon his thrusts become sloppier, his dick twitching from how tight your clenching on him as if trying to milk him dry. William buries his cock deep inside you, low quiet moan leaves him as he spills his seed against your cervix, claiming you as his. Your orgasm hits you in next seconds, right after William's, what makes him laugh almost mockingly when he sees how his little doll becoming shaking mess, your hips moving in smooth circles as you cum, feeling warmth of his sperm inside you.
“Th. . . Thank you, mr. Afton.” William pulls out and his cum starts leaking of your used hole little by little.
You close your eyes and weaken, falling onto the couch fully now. Your panties on the floor, which is already stained with your juices mixed with his sperm, you don't even want to look there. No, right now you're not ashamed, not embarrassed, you just don't give a fuck, you felt so good that you won't be able to come to your senses for a long time. Even the glass of water that William handed you with big care won't bring you to reality. You're so tired that you don't even notice William turning off the camera in the corner of his office.
#william afton smut#fnaf x reader#william afton x reader#fnaf william afton#dilf william#steve raglan smut#steve raglan x reader#william afton#fnaf smut#fnaf x y/n#william afton imagines#william afton x reader smut#fnaf x you
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Twice Fic World ch. 2.5
I Got You, Boss
🎱 Part 1
I got busy, but here's the first part of the sequel of Strawberry Picking 🍓<3.
Mina x Male Reader
Word count: approx. 800 words
Summary: A quick warmup before the presentation.
The time has come, it's Monday and today is your presentation in front the higher-ups of your company. You're excited and nervous at the same time. You went to work early because you and your boss will hit the road at exactly 8 am. You arrived at 6:45 am and you went to the roof top to have a smoke. Smoking clears your mind and also makes you relax. You held into the rails and a familiar voice called out your name.
" Y/N "
You looked and Mina approached you with a peace sign pose
" What the heck, why are you so early? "
" I heard that you smoke here every morning whenever you have quite a work load. I knew you'll go here early because it's your presentation today " Mina answered.
" You're amazingly thoughtful " you giggled and continued smoking.
" You know smoking kills you, right? "
" Yes I know, will you make me stop? "
" Of course not, but I will help you relax " Mina answered before kneeling.
Mina looked into your eyes whilst removing your belt.
" Hey Mina someone might see us, someone can just bust out the door " you whispered.
" No, I locked it "
" I checked view earlier, no one can see us down there in this angle " she added.
You're turned on already due to her hot outfit. You palmed her cheeks and gently rubbed it with your back hand. Mina looked at you seductively. It's abvious that she's wet and horny right now. She keeps on looking towards you while licking your dick.
" You remembered when you fucked my throat last time, Y/N? " she asked with a frown before putting your dick inside her mouth.
She sucks it while maintaining eye contact with you. She gently sucked your shaft in a slow pace. You cupped her cheeks as you find her so cute in that position while giving you a head. You're very surprised on how she's doing a fellatio, you can feel her tongue circling and playing the head of your dick while sucking it at the same time. The pleasure is immense, her slow pace causes you to feel her blowjob much better. Her tounge makes your dick tingly, her sucking and her lips then gives you that nice pleasure.
She finally popped your dick and started stroking it with her silky smooth hands. The combination of the pre-cum and her saliva makes a perfect lubricant. You grabbed her face and started making out with her while she strokes your dick.
~~ahh
~~mmmhhh
~~slurpss
Moans escapes both of your mouth while enjoying the make out. You are leaning on the terrace grills, your left hand is palmed and rubbing her face and the other is wrapped around her waist. You're pulling her closer as you sucks her tongue and clips her lips with yours while her left hand stokes your dick, her other hand is simply wrapped on your neck.
You slowly pushed her to the door of the rooftop entrance, all while you're still kissing. You pushed her against the thick door and you held her neck. You kissed her neck and shoulders, her arms hugged your head and your other arm is groping her boobs.
" ~~ ahh baby, I've been waiting for this " she said under her moans.
" Me too, I'm so hungry for you " you said before giving her a final deep kiss.
You broke the kiss and you turned her around, revealing her back. You licked her back and you gently pulled her dress up so you can remove her shorts and underwear.
~~ mmhhh ~~ahh
She moaned.
You aligned your dick to her pussy and slowly pressed it inside.
" ~~ ahhh, yes babyy fuck me, fuck me " she said while moaning.
You started fucking her, she arced her back and her head is pressed into the door. You're holding her waist while giving all your strength in every thrust of your dick. Mina kept moaning every thrust.
~~ ahhh!!
~~ mhhh, fuck me more baby!
" Y/N can you pull my hair? " she said while smiling seductively.
You're shocked on how bold Mina was. But nothing's going inside of your head right now except that you're fucking a goddess while completely witnessing her sexy arced body and bottle-like shape. You pulled her hair and her moans becomes more bold.
~~~ahhhhaaahhh yesss!
" You're so horny, Mina "
" Are you happy? That you can now moan this wildly because of my dick? Your girlfriend can't do this to you so you can't show your true nature right, Mina? " You said while ramming her.
" Don't say that, Y/N ~~ahh "
You put your head beside hers.
" No, you're my slut now. Tell me the truth if you want me to fuck you like this everytime " you whispered into her ear.
" ~~mhhh, yes babyy. I'm your slut. Chaeyoung can't fuck me like this so please fuck me everytime you want " she seductively said.
You pulled her hair to your head, she released a wild moan and grinned her teeth while you're ramming her pussy.
" I've been fucking you for few minutes now, where do you want this load, slut? "
" I don't have a tissue with me baby, please tell me if you're cumming and I will suck that dick clean ~mmhgg " she said before biting her lower lip.
" ~~ ahh I'm cumming baby " you said before letting go of her waist.
Mina quickly puts her mouth into your dick and sucked it. You grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth, your dick reach her throat and you continued ramming her throat. Mina is pretty used to it now and she holds your leg while looking into your eye. After few thrusts you shoots your cum into her throat and you feel her fingers clenching your leg muscles. You pushed her head into your dick so hard while it still spits your cum. Mina's eyes rolled as she choke in her own salivas. After you withdrawn your dick she fell into her knees and gasped for air, she coughed heavily as she chokes. She is holding her neck and her eyeliner is a mess.
" Are you okay Mina? "
You asked before you sat in front of her while she is still gasping her air. She is not answering but she laid her arms into your shoulders.
" You okay, Mina ? " You asked again in a comforting voice.
Mina slowly lifts her head and she opened her mouth infront of you revealing her tongue. She shows how she swallowed your cum and nothing is left, all while smiling. You're turned on again and your dick became hard again. You sucked her tongue and makes out with her.
" I'm horny again, Mina " you said.
" Follow me " she replied.
She pulled you into the women's restroom, she pulls out a toothbrush from her pouch and she removed her underwear and raised her dress. She lets you fuck her while brushing her teeth infront of the mirror and on top of that she lets you record how you fuck her. In her defense she want you to watch that if you became horny when she's not around. She let you cum inside this time. Before leaving you kissed her and she sprayed her perfume into your suit.
" Goodbye, Y/N ! Goodluck in your presentation " she said with a gummy smile.
- To be continued
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I triple dog dare you to write Josh futterman getting caught jerking off to a pic of y/n!!!!
Heyyy bbg I am SOOOO sorry this took me so long to get to this request, I have been dealing with final exams and tbh mental health? Down the drain lmao. I do have a fic similar to this, so if you want to read that one it is linked HERE!! I am still going to write a similar concept, however, I will change it up a little bit! I hope that you still enjoy it!
cw: smut, male masturbation, female masturbation, fluff
word count: 1,445
Being around Josh Futturman is this strange mix of contradictions that you can't quite wrap your head around. On one hand, he's this total loser, but you can't help but be infatuated with him. It's like he's the king of awkward, yet there's this undeniable charisma that draws you in. And then there's the whole "Biotic Wars" thing – he's legit addicted to that game. You can't help but roll your eyes when he starts rambling about how close he was to beating the game, but there's something oddly cute about his enthusiasm. Lately, though, there's this other layer to your friendship that you can't shake off – a subtle flutter in your chest when he laughs or those lingering looks that neither of you acknowledges. You knew you were far gone when it came to Josh, but you also knew you refused to risk your friendship with him, so you kept silent.
-------------------
Your shift came to a close and you started gathering your things when the buzzing of your phone made you jump. You looked down, seeing Josh’s name on the screen, making you smile. You pick up, greeted by the distant sounds of explosions ad gunfire – the unmistakable sounds of “Biotic Wars.” You rolled your eyes.
“Hey, y/n, what are you doing?” There was a tiredness in his voice.
“I just got off of work, I’m about to head home. What’s up with you?” You responded, realizing that it was kind of a stupid question.
“Ah, you know, same old. Just killing these biotics left and right. You should join me sometime.” You couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Maybe someday, but probably not,” he groans in a mocking way. “You wanna hang out today? Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Yeah, absolutely,” he says, clearly distracted. “You can um – ah fuck you! Sorry, not you, I just died.” He laughed. “You can come to my place, that sound alright?” The frantic clicking of buttons started up in the background, accompanied by gunshots and occasional explosions.
“Yeah your place works,” you remark. “What time?” There was a silence from Josh, leaving the sounds of the game in the background. “Josh?”
“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled. “How does 6 sound? It gives you a chance to get out of your work clothes and me a chance to go through a few more levels.” Clearly, he was more focused on the game.
“That works, I’ll grab pizza for us. Usual?” He ‘mhmm’s’ in response your question. “Cool, I’ll see you then.” He says a quick goodbye, hanging up quickly after. You sigh, grabbing your bag and keys, making your way to your car to head home.
---------
You looked at your watch, the time reading 5:42. You were typically early. Josh always left his door unlocked whenever he knew you were coming over, so you were able to walk right in. You set your bag and the pizza box on the dining table, looking up the stairs. You couldn’t hear his game playing, however you did hear noises from up the stairs. You walk up the stairs quietly, wanting to sneak up on him. Noticing his door was cracked, you took a peak in. Your breath caught in your through, letting out a soft gasp at what you were greeted with. On his computer monitor, your Instagram was pulled up, a photo of you at the beach on the screen. A heat started pooling in your core with the sight in front of you: Josh was in his gaming chair, jeans around his ankles, quickly stroking his dick. His head was lulled back, eyes half closed and tongue poking out of his mouth slightly. You stayed silent, watching his hand moved up in down in a needy pace, whimpers escaping his throat as he continued. He switched hands, shaking the one he was previously using, making you think he had been at this for a while. You bit your lower lip, your arousal becoming overwhelming. You start to think, there's no harm in touching myself too, right? With that, you quietly sit down on the floor, leaning against his doorframe. You took a look over your shoulder, making sure you did not alert Josh that you were there. You were in the clear. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Carefully, you dip your hand down into your sweatpants, past your underwear and down to your heat. You leaned your head back against the door frame as you grazed your clit, biting on your lip to stifle any noise threatening your lips. Your eyes closed, taking in the whimpers and words coming from Josh as he continued stroking his cock. Your fingers dipped down into your heat, making you sigh. Your mind was completely clouded with the thought of your fingers being replaced by Josh’s, making a heat pool in your lower belly.
“F-fuck, y/n,” you heard Josh whimper out, making you that much closer to your own release. You circled your clit, letting out your own soft moans at this point, unable to contain them with the pleasure you were feeling. You heard Josh’s moans get more erratic as kept going, insinuating that he was close. You sped up your movements, rubbing and fingering your wet heat, finally bringing yourself to your release. You cover your mouth with your free hand, doing your best to stifle your moans, leaning your head back against the door frame and screwing your eyes shut. You sit there for a moment, catching your breath before glancing inside Josh’s room, not seeing him on his gaming chair anymore. You stand up on wobbly legs, composing yourself. You knock on his door, pushing it open.
“Hey Josh, I’m here,” you call out with a shaky voice. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. You looked at his computer, your picture no longer up. Josh was standing at his shelf, now wearing sweatpants. He turned to look at you, a smile making its way onto his face. His cheeks were a light flush of red.
“Hey!” His voice was cheerful as he made his way over to his bed. You go in, sitting next to you. He leaned in to hug you, you immediately hugging back. He moved his head to where his lips were next to your ear. “Did you like what you saw?” His voice was low and gravely. Your eyes widened, quickly pulling away from the hug to look at him. He looked nervous, his face a darker red than before. This honestly probably took a lot of confidence to say, especially for him.
“W-what?” You stutter out.
“You heard me,” he grinned.
“I um, you saw?” He just nodded. “How much?”
“Most of it, watching you is what actually made me,” he paused. “You know,” he looked away, clearly nervous now. You guess his confidence wore off.
“I-I’m sorry if I made things weird I just-” he cut you off, connecting his lips to yours gently. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him more into the kiss. You pull away, looking into his eyes.
“Y/n, I’ve been into you for years. You just never showed me any signs of anything, so I stayed quiet about it.” You smiled.
“honestly, josh? I have too. I was just scared.”
“You sure didn’t seem scared five minutes ago,” he smirked. You grumbled, flicking the back of his head. “You were also early, you were never supposed to see or know anything.” You shrugged.
“Well, I do now.” He looked down.
“So what now?” He said, joy and curiosity in his voice. You thought for a moment.
“well, theres pizza downstairs-“
“no, not right now, dumbass. In general. Us. What now.”
“oh,” you blushed. “You could be a gentleman and ask me on a real date, you know.” You teased him. He rolled his eyes, hiding the smile that crept onto his face.
“Sorry, sorry. Y/n, would you like to go on a date with me?” A smile lingered on his lips. You pretend to think for a moment.
“I guess, but lets just eat pizza and watch a movie tonight, how does that sound?” He nodded.
“I’ll go get the pizza,” he planted a kiss on your cheek before he left the room. You laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. You couldn’t believe what just happened, and frankly you were embarrassed. But you’re secrets out now and it feels good, especially knowing that he had feelings for you too. You let your eyes flutter shut, taking a deep breath, anticipating what may come within this newfound relationship that may be forming.
OMG thank you for being patient with me. I hope this is good, I honestly struggled with this one a lot for some reason, but if you enjoyed it, im glad. Have a beautiful day everyone :)
#josh hutcherson#josh futterman#michael schmidt#mike schmidt#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt x reader#josh hutcherson fanfic#mike schmidt smut#josh hutcherson smut#josh futturman fluff#josh futturman#josh futturman smut#josh futturman x reader#peeta mellark#peeta
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(tw for mentions of nudity)
Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?
[After days of travelling, fighting and sleeping on rocks, a rest at a tavern is well-earned. Not feeling up to taste the nightlife with your friends, Gale and you retire early. The evening turns into something heartfelt and domestic as you wash his hair and hum a song he's grown all too familiar with.]
As much as Gale loves to be in the centre of your attention, it flusters him. He's grown so used to being the one doting and worshipping that he's quite unsure what to do once the roles are reversed. Is he supposed to gratefully acknowledge your efforts? Or sit twiddling his thumbs, taking whatever you give him?
How does one take affection?, he wonders in the back of his head.
The party downstairs is virtually inaudible to Gale as his mind is focused solely on the tender caress of your hands. The soap suds feel as though they transcend his skin and wash his very spirit clean. Or perhaps that's just what being loved feels like. His back is leisurely leaning against your chest. In some distant fantasy of his, you are reborn as his guardian angel.
I sowed rue in four little gardens
In the fifth, I sowed periwinkle for you, Johnny
Your low singing is ringing in his ears the same way the church bell's toll is ringing in the ears of a saint - calling towards home. Gale shivers as your breath, like a ghost of love once cherished, brushes against his hot skin. The soothing sound of your voice is all too fleeting to him. If he could only grab it and bask in it any time he wishes to. Perhaps, if your place was among the stars in the night sky...?
Rue, my rue, I sowed you in the early morning
I sowed you happily; grow tall, rue
He sighs, feeling your fingers tug gently at his hair. Whether you're washing it or rinsing, he's not entirely sure. The moment your fingers dragged against his skin, your nails scratched at his scalp, Gale allowed himself to drift into a comfortable limbo - somewhere between sleep and wake, between dream and reality. It is only by the melody of this song you so often sing to yourself that he can be sure he is alive and well. Otherwise, given the inexplicable lightness of his spirit, Gale might have thought he'd died and gone to wherever he deserved to spend his afterlife.
I sowed you, rue, in a wide bed
I thought to myself that Johnny might come
Speaking of death: as the saying goes, 'curiosity killed the cat' and Gale, by his nature, can not help himself but die again and again.
"Not that I don't enjoy your little habit," he breaks the silence in a groggy, sleepy voice, "it's quite adorable if I may say so, but do indulge me: what is this song you're singing? I've never heard it before."
"It's a wedding song," you murmur your answer. Gale's breath hitches as he feels your lips stroke the conch of his ear. "In my hometown, there's this tradition of making newlyweds wade through the dancing guests to reach each other. If they manage to hold hands before the song ends, the Gods bless them and they shall be inseparable from that day on. It's weird how..." you hang your voice and sigh heavily, "no matter."
But Gale is quick to dismiss your silly belief that there is something uninteresting about your thoughts. "Whatever is on your mind, I long to hear it." The pleasing tone of his voice is more meaningful than the wizard's actual words.
For a moment, your careful movements come to a halt. He could, of course, protest the sudden lack of soft tugging at his hair or the pleasant scratching of his scalp but all complaints dissipate as Gale feels you resting your chin on top of his shoulder. "When I was younger, just a filly, I thought about the day I would get to nudge my way through the guests," you recall with both sadness and fondness in your voice, "but now I worry whether I will get to see the break of dawn. Odd how life can get."
He wishes to say something suave, to weave sultry words with skill comparable to Astarion's. Alas, he's too overly aware of your naked form glued to his back and your arms casually wrapped around his stomach. Yet again, Gale is flustered. "Oh, I'm no stranger to twisted and, frankly unfathomable, paths of life," he says, feigning glibness. "Having said that, you've managed to survive things most can't even dream of. If I were you, I wouldn't cross a wedding game off the list just yet."
No answer comes from you - at least not a vocal answer. You place a soft peck on top of his shoulder before going back to washing his hair and relishing in the song that reminds you of home.
The rue is withered but Johnny's not here
When Sunday comes, I will be dressing up
Considering he has enough explosive energy inside him to level a city, wading through the mob of wedding guests shouldn't be a challenge. Although, if Karlach and Lae'zel are also invited...
But the doubt in Gale's mind doesn't let such fantasies go too far. First of all, would you even want to? Would you actually stand before him and proclaim to the entire world that you will love him for better or worse? As much as he believes you every time you profess your love to him, the longer he wonders about the proverbial 'until death do us part', the more he grows unsure. Because, honestly, out of all the people you've met on your travels, why would it be him? The man who famously makes bad decisions in the name of love?
Rue, my rue, grow green, rue
I will cut you on an early Sunday morning
The thing that happens then leaves Gale even more confused about his own feelings and the matter of accepting affection:
You've finished washing his hair, taking your sweet time admiring the streaks of grey. Leaning back, you gently pull him along. His head falls back into the crook of your neck. If Gale had just slightly less self-control, he would have squealed when you kissed his neck and tightened your embrace around his midsection. You're holding him like a toddler holds their favourite stuffed toy and it's... nice.
Thinking about your trapping hug, Gale suddenly remembers something he wanted to share. "Did you know that a periwinkle is also called a Vinca, which means 'to bind'?"
A light-hearted chuckle rumbles in your chest. "Then I better sow a garden full of them for you."
_____
Halsin's version right here!!
(tagging those who shouted, y'all are the pillars of society: @cakenpiewhyohmy @hairlessgoblin @lillithhearts @day-dreaming-goddess @nico-ith @cakeboxie )
Your prayers have been heard!!!! (As though I didn't start writing this immediately after posting Halsin's version)
Changed the song at the last second because my former choice was a little too upbeat for the setting ("Jeleń" by Sutari, if y'all are curious)
#gale x reader#gale x you#gale x tav#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#bg3#bg3 gale#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate#gale of waterdeep x reader#gale of waterdeep bg3#gale of waterdeep fanfiction#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fanfic#bg3 x you#gale dekarios fanfiction#gale dekarios fanfic
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Kento Nanami Drabble
A/N When I eventually get around to uploading my masterlist please note that the characters will ALWAYS be chubby! / plus size! reader and is a poc 🫶🏽 Anyway this is something "light" 🤣 Enjoy~!!
Word count: 967
Content warning: slight smut, slight fat shaming if you squint really, really hard, small cursing
Random drabble of how Kento Nanami adores his chubby, fiesty secretary that doesn't take shit from anyone. She will put you in your place if she feels that you have disrespected her.
The moment you were hired you reminded Kento of a fire log: you brought warmth within the office, if that made sense. He tried not to pay too much attention to you, only talking when saying "thanks" and "that'll be all" but found the task of ignoring you impossible considering that your desk sat outside his office making it convenient for you to be at his beck and call. He watched through his tinted glasses admiring your full figure as you clacked away at your computer -you're efficient he'll give you that- getting up to retrieve documents from the printer, stopping every once and in a while to talk to your coworkers with that warm smile on your face that he was slowly falling for.
What really sealed the deal for him was how you always looked out for him, taking care of him in your own way: leaving small squares of dark chocolate on his desk with a note scribbled in your neat handwriting: Not saying you look like shit but it's been proven that if you eat one dark chocolate a day it'll benefit your heart, teeth, and help you sleep better^^ try to get some rest ~^^ you look a bit tired today :-( ; always making sure that he actually stopped working to eat and rest. "Minnie," the nickname you adapted to calling him when it was just you two. "Ya need to eat something."
"Let me just finish this-"
"When was the last time you ate?"
"Uh-"
"Too long. Come on!" He inwardly shivered at the spark that zapped through him as you grabbed him by his forearm attempting to pull him out of his seat. Squeezing you joke, "Sheesh. Didn't realize how built you were." Leading him towards your desk he wondered whether you knew what effect you were having on him.
The day that really killed it for him was when you both showed up to work practically identical: you wore a white, mid length pencil skirt with a thin black belt, satin blue blouse tucked in with the first two buttons undone, and some black heels. As you were gathering the notes to lay on the conference table you giggle. "Minnie, we look like a couple." After the conference he went home early claiming to be sick. Oh the naughty thoughts that were running rampant in Nanami's mind as he fisted his aching cock in the cold shower: he wanted to hike your skirt up, squeeze the supple flesh of your thighs, rip the blouse apart making sure to bring out your breasts from the confines of your bra and pound into you on his desk as you pant his name. "Na-nami" he imagined your half lidded eyes, mouth agape as he watched your breasts bounce with each of his thrusts, his fist stroking faster, teasing and rubbing at his sensitive, tip. "Minnie, I think ima-" Nanami groaned as rope after velvety rope painted his walls. This was driving him mad. He needed to make you his asap.
Sitting at the head of the conference table with a potential client, sneaking glances your way, he watched as you typed away at your laptop, alternating between typing and writing in a notebook. He was grateful that the lights were dimmed as the company's CEO and representative were giving their presentation, lightly palming himself underneath the table.
Oblivious to Kento's internal struggle you stood directly in front of him, so close that if he were to lean forward just slightly he could sniff you. Meanwhile he was admiring how your love handles looked in the midnight blue, sleeveless blouse you were wearing and how the black pencil skirt complimented your ass. As you both were saying goodbye to the CEO he clasped his hand on Kento's shoulder saying, "Mr. Kento, I look forward to working with you. But, take it from an old geezer who's been in the game for a while now, if you want more clients you need to hire someone who's more easier on the eyes. You know what I'm saying?" Your eyebrow shot up and as you were about to defend yourself Nanami replied with, "Unsolicited advice is never welcome. You disrespecting my secretary is a direct hit towards me. I can't do business with someone who only wants to look good on the outside. Please allow the security to escort you out."
"What?! You're joking right?"
"I never joke when it comes to the well being of my employees."
"This is preposterous!"
"Security please escort he and his representative off the premises."
"You will regret not merging with us!"
"Highly unlikely."
As the scene died down you tilted your head glancing at Nanami. "You know I coulda handled it."
"Why? So you could get reported to HR and lose your job?"
"I wasn't gonna hit him." Nanami stopped to stare at you intently. "Ok maybe I wanted to shave his bushy ass eyebrows." Shaking his head he chuckled. "The shorter you are the closer you are to the devil." You lightly smacked his shoulder. "Besides I can't afford losing you."
"Awwwww why? Minnie, you make it seem like you actually like me." Stopping in his tracks he turned to looked at you. "I do. I do like you."
"You better not be playing because I swear to gawd-" Nanami pulled your body flush against his causing you to silently gasp, biting your lower lip. Leaning down to whisper against the shell of your ear, "Need more proof?" You shook your head, you could feel the dark chuckle erupting from within his chest. "Use your words baby girl."
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu sorcerer#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x chubby reader#jjk x plus size reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x plus size reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader#x chubby reader#chubby! reader#chubby reader#nanami#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami smut#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami#jjk kento#kento smut#kento x reader#kento x y/n#jujutsu kaisen nanami#kento x you#kento x chubby reader
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Collecting Strays - Kelley O’Hara X Reader (platonic)
Summary: Miss Kelley is known for making friends with younger players and taking them under her wing. When she notices you, a rookie at Gotham, are having a bad day, she does what she can to make you feel better, adding you to her collection of younger players she looks out for.
Warnings: slight angst
It had been less than a month since you signed with Gotham. Just a few short weeks ago your mom had helped you move in to your new apartment and get set up in this new city. At first everything was fine. You seemed to fit in well with the team making a few friends with your fellow teammates.
One in particular was Kelley O’Hara. One your very first day with Gotham, Kelley took you under her wing, showing you around, giving you tips during training, and just being a supportive teammate.
Normally, you were excited for practice but today you just couldn’t muster up the energy to even try to seem excited to be there. First, your coffee had spilt in your car leaving you un-caffeinated. Then, you couldn’t stop shivering as you walked outside to the training pitch. The wind was blowing in your face making you even colder despite the training jacket you had on. The sky seemed to get greyer and greyer as training went on. You also weren’t playing as well as you could.
At the end of practice you took a deep breath, not wanting your teammates to see you cry. Showering as quickly as possible and throwing on clothes, you quickly made your way out of the changing room trying to avoid conversation.
Today was just a hard day, your teammates didn’t need to know that.
You were halfway out the building when a hand on your shoulder stopped you.
“Hey kid,” Kelley said turning you to face her, “what’s up? You’ve been off all day.”
You try to shrug off Kelley’s hand, not bothering to take your eyes off the floor.
“Nothing’s up, I’m just having an off day,” you lie.
“That’s not going to work with me kid,” Kelley crossed her arms in front of her.
Still not looking up you just shrug in response.
“Come on, your gonna come over to my place,” Kelley demanded pushing you towards the door.
“Kelley, really I’m fine I just want to go back to my apartment,” you try and pull away from her.
“Spending an hour at my apartment wont kill you,” Kelley said practically dragging you to her car.
That’s how you ended up on Kelley’s couch, hot chocolate in hand watching some random show.
“So, you want to talk about it yet?” Kelley ask, once you finish your drink setting down.
“No, not really,” you say, turning your attention back to the tv.
Kelley lets out an exaggerated sigh, causing you to roll your eyes.
“I told you early, I’m fine.” Looking over Kelly arches an eyebrow, causing you to sigh this time. “Okay, it’s my mom’s birthday and I miss home and I miss my dog and I really wish I could be there celebrating with everyone and I love it here but…”
Kelley cuts you off “woah, take a deep breath,” pulling you into a hug you burry your face in her neck wrapping your arms around the older woman.
You hadn’t realized you were crying but now it felt like you couldn’t stop.
“I miss home,” you whimper in Kelley’s embrace.
“Shh, I know,” she says rubbing your back. “I know.”
You don’t know how long you to stay like that. With you practically in Kelley’s lap letting it all out as she runs her fingers through your hair and rubs your back, holding you until you calm down.
Once she notices your sobs had stopped Kelley pulls back slightly, wiping your tears away.
“I know its hard,” she says her thumb stroking your cheek. “I wont lie to you and tell you it gets easier. In this profession, you’re always going to miss something. Birthdays, holidays, weddings, but you get so much more and make so many amazing memories and travel to new places, it’ll make it worth it. I’m sorry you miss home but just know this team is here for you. I’m here for you.”
Fresh tears make its way down your cheeks and you whip at them with your shirt sleeve. “Thank you Kelley. Not just for today but for being there for me even when I first joined the team.”
“Of course” Kelley smiled pulling you in for a hug. “Now how about we get some ice cream, ice creams guaranteed to make anyone happy.”
You laugh for probably the first time today, “okay.”
It had been a few hours since your breakdown to Kelley but you were still in her apartment. A knock at the door startled you both. Kelley rolled her eyes when a familiar voice called out. You could tell that a few people were outside, namely Rose and Sonnett, but you couldn’t tell who else.
At first you had thought Kelley had invited them over but when someone knocked Kelley rolled her eyes mumbling how some people just wouldn’t leave her alone as she went to open the door. You knew her annoyance was fake though when Jenna walked through the door Jenna launched herself at Kelley. Kelley picked her up spinning the younger girl around. Rose and Sonnett followed behind walking into Kelley's apartment. You smiled in greeting to your teammates.
Sonnett and Rose made their way into the living room, saying quick hellos as Kelley sat Jenna back down on her feet.
“You guys ate ice cream without us,” Sonnett frowned when she noticed the two empty bowls on the coffee table.
“Ice creams for invited guest only,” Kelley said following Jenna and Rose into the living room.
“I’m hurt Miss Kelley,” Sonnett placed a hand over her heart pretending to be offended.
“What are you guys watching,” Rose said sitting down between you and Sonnett.
“Just some trash reality tv show,” You said causing Kelley to scoff.
“First, they barge in then you insult the tv shows I watch.”
“We should watch a movie,” Jenna interrupts as she squeezes herself in between Sonnett and Rose.
“I agree,” Sonnett picks up the remote, looking for a movie to watch.
“You guys know this is my apartment, right?” Kelley is still standing, her hands on her hips looking at all of you.
“Please Miss Kelley? That show was boring,” you stick out your bottom lip, giving Kelley the best puppy-dog eyes you can.
“Sonnett, look what you’ve taught her,” Kelley gasp causing the room to laugh. “My sweet innocent baby calling me Miss Kelley.”
Kelley pinches your cheeks, swatting at her hands trying to get her to stop as the others laugh at you two. “I’m not a baby,” you pout.
“You’re one of the youngest on the team, of course you’re a baby,” Kelley says finally sitting down next to you pulling you into her side.
You cross your arms sinking back into the couch.
“Does that mean I’ve been upgraded Miss Kelley?” Jenna ask leaning forward to look at Kelley.
“Ugh not you too,” Kelley groans covering her face with her hands.
“Shh guys, Sonnett picked a movie,” Rose said kicking her feet up on the coffee table.
The movie started and everyone was quite watching as the opening credits came on the screen.
“Wait!” Jenna stood up from the couch, walking to the kitchen. “We need popcorn.”
After the movie, Sonnett, Rose, and Jenna started getting their things together.
“Thanks Miss Kelley for letting us crash your place,” Jenna said pressing a kiss to Kelley’s cheeks.
“Yeah yeah,” Kelley said taking empty bowls to the kitchen.
A chorus of byes followed as the other women made their way out of Kelley’s apartment, leaving just you and her. You grabbed the remaining bowls from the coffee table, taking them to the kitchen.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Kelley said taking them from your hands.
“It’s okay, it’s the least I can do since you let me stay here all day,” you shrugged.
“If I remember correctly, I had to drag you to my car earlier,” you roll your eyes at Kelley’s response.
You lean against the counter as Kelley loads her dishwasher, “about that, how am I getting to my apartment?”
“Why don’t you just stay her tonight and I’ll drive us to training in the morning?”
You try to come up with an excuse but you don’t have one and you don’t really want to be alone right now any ways.
Nodding, your wrap your arms around yourself, “okay, thanks.”
“Yeah its no problem,” Kelley says giving you a soft smile.
Now that a few hours had gone by you realized you weren’t sad anymore, or as sad. Kelley had succeeded in taking your mind off things. You didn’t realize how desperately you had needed the company. If you hadn’t come over to Kelley’s you would have probably gone back to your apartment after practice and spent all day crying in your bed.
“No Kelley, I mean thank you, for today,” you admit. “I really needed this.”
“I know kid,” Kelley says pulling you in for a hug.
#kelley o'hara#woso#kelley o'hara x reader#woso imagine#woso x reader#miss kelley#gotham fc#nwsl#emily sonnett#rose lavelle#jenna nighswonger#uswnt
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I Wanted You To Meet Her...Just Not Like This...
Summary: This wasn't how you were meant to meet John's daughter.
Pairing: John Marino x Fem!Reader // John Marino x Ex!Fem OC (Ginny) <- only important for all of ten seconds
Requested: No (Requests Are Open)
Warnings: 18+, minors dni, nsfw for the first half, single dad!john, soft dom!john x sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names (pretty girl, good girl...), a little bit of hair pulling, fingering, oral (female receiving), interrupted morning sex, not edited
Notes: uhh...hi, this is my first time writing for john, not sure if i've done him justice, or if its any good, but this idea sort of comes from a dream i had the other week. anyway, i hope you liked it, feedback is always appreciated
"You're killing me here, pretty girl," John groans, hands pushing your knees apart, looking at you all splayed out for him on the mattress. You push up onto your elbows, watching his wild eyes drink you in, licking your own lips as he licks his, the corner slightly elevated at seeing your wetness glistening in early golden rays of sunlight. "Is this all for me?" He asks, brushing his thumb through your folds, grazing your clit at the top of his stroke.
You shiver at his touch. "Please, don't tease me," you beg, desperate and needy for him. Your head shakes from side to side, a whimper spilling from your lips as he repeats his last movement, slowing down as he brushes over your clit. "Please, John," you whine, squirming your hips, bucking them up off the bed, "I'm too tired to be teased."
"Just a little more," he whispers, stroking his fingers through your wetness, his cock twitching as he sinks one finger inside.
He bites his bottom lip, swallowing a groan, watching his finger withdraw from the tight warmth of your cunt. All mine, he thinks, sliding his finger into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.
"So tight," he murmurs, pulling his finger out with a pop, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smug grin, "guess I need to stretch you out some more."
He adds a second finger, your elbows giving way and your back collapsing onto the mattress as your eyes close shut. His movements are slow, dragging his long fingers along your walls, curling to reach the right spot. And you whine loudly to voice your protest, pulling an amused chuckle from out of him, the sound vibrating across you like electricity.
"Johnny, please-!" Before you could finish, he lowers his mouth onto your heat, lapping and swirling his tongue against your clit. Your thighs lock around him and your back arches away from the bed, a loud moan ripping from the back of your throat. "Fuck," you breathe out, trying to catch it before another moan escapes. You fist one hand into his hair and tug on the dark curls, "don't stop."
The corners of his mouth twitch, his grin pressed against you. "Never would," he mumbles, wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking so hard that you squeak.
He glances up, finding your free hand pinching at one of your nipples and groans, rutting his hips into the mattress, seeking some much-needed friction against his steely length. "Good girl," your clit leaves his mouth with a pop and he stays watching you, keeping his hips grounded, "keep playing with yourself like that."
You do as he says, rolling your nipple between your thumb and forefinger, hissing inwards as you pinch and twist the sensitive nub.
"John." You tug on his hair, managing to pull him away, whimpering as he removes his fingers, leaving you to feel empty. "You" you stutter, releasing his hair, "I need you."
He crawls up to meet you face to face, kissing his way up your body, following the curve of your body with his hands. To him, your body was like one of those marble statues, created and shaped to perfection, and something he always wanted to step back and admire for hours. He dips his head into the crook of your neck and softly nips at your skin, soothing the sting with a flick of his tongue.
"You need me?" He asks, coming to eye to eye with you. You nod, unable to force an answer out. "Then have me," he whispers, before sinking to meet your lips.
His hand comes to rest on the side of your face, his thumb caressing your jaw as his tongue finds the seam of your mouth. You sigh, parting your lips for him, tasting yourself on his tongue whilst it teases you.
He breaks away, distracted and chuckling as your hand strokes down his chest. "Where are you going?" He asks, pressing his forehead against yours, angling his chin down to watch your hand disappear.
You smile, biting your bottom lip. "Nowhere."
He gasps, hissing into a groan as you softly stroke your fingers over the crown of his cock. "Nowhere, huh?" He bites his lips, squeezing his eyes shut and bucking his hips to meet your slow jerks.
Abruptly, you stop, ripping your hand away like you have touched something hot, nudging John away as he buries his face against your neck, asking why you had stopped.
"John, stop," you mumble, something over his shoulder catching your attention. You push up onto your elbows and watch the bedroom door handle jiggle once and then a second time.
Someone was trying to get in.
On the third attempt, John finally looks over, nearly falling off the bed as he rolls to your side.
"Stay," he mumbles the command like he's ordering about a dog. You sit up and pull the covers tight against you, watching John dress in a pair of old gym shorts, the Devils logo faded from repeated cycles in his washing machine. "It's probably just the-"
The door swings open on the fourth try, revealing a small four-year-old, dressed in baby pink dungarees. "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" She shouts, her pigtails bopping as she bounces excitedly. She waves one hand in the air and smiles brightly up at him.
"Wheezie?!" He nearly trips over one of your heels from last night. "What are you-" He takes a deep breath and straightens up, a soft blush appearing on the tops of his cheeks. "What are you doing here?"
Your face burns with embarrassment. This was not how you wished to meet Eloise Marino, naked and in her daddy's bed.
She ignores his question, her tiny arms swinging by her side as she tilts her head, a big round pair of eyes staring at you with curiosity. "Who are you?"
"Uh..." Your voice trails off, your eyes darting to John for help.
"Wheezie-"
"I really wish you would stop calling her that!" Another voice enters John's apartment, filtering in from the hallway, whom you assumed belonged to John's ex and Eloise's mom. "Her name is Eloise, not 'Wheezie'." She says the nickname with disgust, appearing at the door with her nose wriggled and pointed off to the side. "Is it really that hard to call her the name we picked?"
You picked, John wants to say but rolls his lips together, deciding not to pick a pointless fight with Ginny. Instead, he glances at you, checking on you, giving you a small comforting smile as he watches you slowly try and hide yourself further under the covers.
His ex looks at you in horror, throwing a hand quickly over her daughter's eyes. "Very classy, John," she tuts at him, giving you one last look of disgust before ushering Eloise out.
John waits until they've gone. "I'm sorry," he apologises, walking until he feels his knees hit the bed's footboard. He fists his fingers through his hair, leaving the top dishevelled, and releases a frustrated sigh. "I promise you she's not meant to be here," he looks at the door and then back at you, "she's meant to be with Ginny this weekend."
You shake your head and give him a nervous smile. "I was going to have to meet her at some point."
"But only when you were ready," he counters, the corners of his mouth turning down into a frown.
"John, it's fine," you lie, taking your hand and rubbing it against your chest, thinking it could magically rub away the nerves. He arches his eyebrow, not believing you for a second. You give him another smile. "Go," you wave your hand, shooing him out of the room, "go see what's wrong and I'll just wait in here. You know, gather what's left of my dignity."
He chuckles, the soft sound calming you. "Okay," he comes to the side of the bed, scooping you up an old t-shirt and quickly kisses your cheek.
You drop your head into your hands and shake your head. "Is there really no one up there looking out for me?" You speak out loud to yourself, before pulling the t-shirt over your head, feeling less embarrassed now that more of you was covered.
Kicking off the covers, you swing your legs over the side and move quickly across the room, finding yourself a pair of John's shorts or maybe even a pair of his boxers. Just anything to cover your lower half with.
"This is meant to be your weekend with her."
You stop at the door, your head craning just enough around the door to see John and his ex standing at the end of the hallway. John had his arms folded across his chest and his back turned to face you.
His ex flicks her straight blonde hair over her shoulder and turns her head, her piercing grey eyes narrowed in your direction. Taking a step back, you hold your breath, hoping she hasn't seen you.
"Doug wants to take me away for the weekend," was all she had to say.
John scoffs. "Brilliant. And what have you told Wheezie?"
"Eloise," she snaps, correcting him. Her voice rises to a higher pitch to be heard over him. "Her name is Eloise. And she'll be fine - it's just one weekend."
"And it was just one weekend with Richard too," John bites back, doing his best to keep his voice down. Skipping a weekend wasn't a one-time thing you could only assume, shaking your head, feeling an unexpected sense of sadness. "You get her two weekends of the month, Ginny," John stresses, and you take another peek around the door to see him pushing his hair back.
"And? Am I not allowed to have relationships?"
"That's not what I'm saying-"
"What was I meant to do?" She talks over him, refusing to hear what he has to say. "Tell Doug no?"
John fidgets on the spot and drags his hand down his face. "Yes," he replies, irritation lacing his tone. His answer was short and straight to the point, but she didn't seem to get it.
She rolls her eyes and waves her hand to dismiss him. "Well, she's here now, and Doug is waiting for me outside, so you better say goodbye to your little puck bunny in there." She gestures to his bedroom.
"Don't call her that."
"What?" She scoffs, laughing at him. "You can't expect me to believe she's something serious? Eloise didn't even know who she was."
"Maybe that's because it takes me longer than a week before I think about introducing someone new to her," he deadpanned, refolding his arms back across his chest. Ginny looks startled, her already rouged cheeks turning darker. "Y/N is serious," he continues, and you smile from behind the door, "but we were waiting until she was ready to meet Wheezie, which you've ruined by pulling this little stunt."
Ginny's voice becomes nothing more than background noise as you feel a soft tug on the end of your t-shirt. Looking down, you find Eloise staring up at you, her eyes a mirror image of John's. "Hi," she smiles, two dimples popping out. She twirls one of her pigtails around her finger.
Bending down, you return the smile. "It's Wheezie, right?" She nods her head, the other pigtail swinging back and forth. "It's nice to finally meet you, I'm Y/N. I'm..." Gosh, this was new for you; how were you meant to tell a four-year-old that you were her daddy's girlfriend without actually saying it? "I'm friends with your daddy," you settle on, deciding it was the easiest for her to understand.
"A friend?" She tilts her head. "Like Uncle Luke?"
"Well..."
"Y/N is my special friend," John suddenly appears behind her, lifting her onto his hip with one arm. He gives her a messy kiss on the cheek and she squeals, quickly wiping it away with the back of her hand. "My very, very special friend."
"Like Doug?" She asks, looking at him for an answer.
"Like Doug," he repeats, nodding his head.
He glances at you, watching you straighten up, before extending his other arm. Your overnight bag hangs from his hand, and you take it from him with a half-smile.
"I missed you," he whispers to Eloise, turning his attention back to her.
"You saw me yesterday," Eloise giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I know," he nods, groaning as he continues, "but yesterday was so long ago! I was beginning to forget what you looked like." He nuzzles his face into her chubby neck and jolts back, wriggling his nose up and pinching the end. "Have you always smelt that bad?"
She giggles some more, squealing, "silly Daddy!"
John looks at you and then back at Eloise. "So," her pigtails bounced as he adjusted her on his hip, a soft groan escaping as she pokes her finger against his jaw, "what are we doing today?"
You arch your brows. "We?"
"Yes," he smiles, looking once more at Eloise, who was pulling one of her pigtails forward, trying to look at her hair. You roll your lips, but you can't hide your smile as you watch the joy of childlike wonder fill her expression. "Me, you," he snaps your attention back to him, just in time to see him nod at her, "and her."
You grip your overnight bag tighter and shrug your shoulders. "I don't know, what are we going to do today?"
NHL Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @chilwellspulisic @lovelynikol16 @love4lando @hischierswhore
#john marino#john marino imagine#john marino smut#john marino oneshot#john marino blurb#john marino x reader#nj devils imagine#nhl imagine#nhl smut
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Can u write about reader sucking off Hokage Naruto from under his desk, while he does paperwork, and maybe even have someone come in and he has to pretend like nothings going on? 😩😩😩 You would have my full gratitude if you do😻
18+ fem!reader // cw: oral (m!receiving), spit, risk of being caught. hokage!naruto, established relationship.
it’s just so audible, the way you suck him off with profound vigour.
incredibly restless and just as needy because of the sudden spike that appears in your hormone levels whenever you ovulate, you’re all enthusiasm and immoral determination when you find yourself kneeling under the desk in the hokage’s office, attempting to take nearly the entirety of your husband’s cock down your throat.
drool seeps from both corners of your pretty mouth that’s now being stretched into a perfect ‘o’ — it causes him to stare at you in a way that makes him look dumb. his eyes are a stormy sea, a vast sky that’s turned blurry across the surface because of the film of lust that only you, his wonderful wife, can provoke into stirring within him.
the sloppiness of your doings is loud, it’s obvious and lewd. you’re practically slurping whilst trying to swallow all the saliva and pre-cum that keeps dribbling past your puffy lips, creating a sticky mess at the base of him. are gargling whenever he bucks his hips upward from the one and only legendary hokage chair that he’s worked his ass off to be able to sit on, and hits the back of your throat with his overstimulated cockhead as a result. are gasping and quietly moaning, even if your mouth is stuffed full of cock and the sound comes out sort of muffled because of it.
naruto’s black pants are tight across his knees from the way he keeps tensing and straining his muscles, obviously trying so hard to keep his cool but failing tremendously so. even his toned stomach clenches when you push up the hem of his simple white t-shirt so that you can rest your eyes on his golden happy trail. poor man.
you’re kneeling between his strong legs, with your ass up and your face buried at the place where his undone button and zipper reside. the tuft of trimmed blonde hairs briefly tickles the tip of your nose whenever you feel like acting like a champ and try to take him an inch or two deeper than what you can usually endure.
it makes you choke, just like it normally does. you expect it to happen, but your eyes still water and saliva spurts as you immediately fight to repress a gag at the intrusion. and yet, even amidst all the chaos, you don’t fail to catch how his breath hitches in response to it.
he’s in awe. the way you force yourself to relax and stick your tongue out, licking the underside of his dick whilst attempting to give him more space so that he can push further through the tight barrier of your throat, has his heart racing to the brink of bursting.
he’s harder than he was before; his dick hot both in your mouth and hand from the new rush of blood to travel south. you take it as a compliment even if it doesn’t make the job any easier for you.
no, instead, it takes noticeably longer to deepthroat him than what you’d expected at first. his cock simply refuses to bend along the shape of your throat, pressing stubbornly upwards and a little to the left, but luckily for you, you still manage to do it for the tiniest bit with your combined efforts.
what a good girl you are.
“fu—… fuck me, woman,” naruto heaves, stammers at the new sensation and the even more intense tightness that you offer, now. listening as your beloved hokage’s voice turns almost high in pitch, you feel a soft glow appear in your chest at the way it slightly cracks in the middle of the short sentence. “you’re gonna a-ah— you’re gonna kill me like this.”
placing the flat of your palms on his thighs, you offer your dominant hand a short break whilst you work to please him only with your mouth this time. seconds pass, and the ache that you feel in your fingers and wrist from all the stroking you’d done earlier at long last begins to cease in the same way his initial reluctance about the entire situation you’re currently indulging in does.
about damn time.
you glance up just in time to see how he clenches his jaw, teeth gritting whilst he watches a fat glob of warm drool slide down the side of his cock and dampen the waistband of his underwear that you’ve tugged down just enough to expose him to your greedy mouth.
his fingers tangle in your hair on instinct as he rests his hand on the back of your head and tugs at the roots so that he can see your face better.
you’re just so wonderfully disheveled — gleaming with tears, sweat and saliva, and your mascara is smudged by how runny it’s gotten. it paints thin lines down your cheeks; messy, almost slutty remnants of the pathways your tears have left behind.
he thinks you’re beautiful.
“am gonna,” you croak as you let him pull you back for air, the thick string of saliva still keeping you attached to him, gleaming in the soft yellow-ish light coming from the nearby desk lamp. the eye contact that you initiate nearly makes both of you visibly shudder from how intense it is.
there’s gasoline floating on the surface of his ocean eyes. it blazes like a wildfire.
“gonna fuck you, i mean,” you finish, still staring at all those flames that make you burn, burn, burn. “gonna fuck you so good, naru.”
his cock throbs when you say that. your clit does, too.
it’s a good thing you’re wearing nothing underneath your skirt, because the pressure the heels of your feet provide when you sit on your legs is godly. it causes your hips to wiggle and he catches it; it makes his adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows thickly.
he blinks before he bites the inside of his cheek and blushes. “here? you’re gonna sit on my dick in my office?”
“yeah,” you reply in a heartbeat, chest rising and falling with every sacred breath. “where else? you’re barely home, always holed up in this damned place… i just thought that you could use a break… that both of us could use it.”
“well, how very generous of ya,” he teases. a brief moment of silence passes as you stare at each other. his gaze is tender and genuinely appreciative despite the endless fire. yours is full of longing.
“lemme show you how generous i really am,” you mumble with an eye roll as you reach up and try to pull yourself onto his lap.
surprisingly, he stops you.
“sweetheart,” he utters gently, shaking his head when you quirk a brow. “as much as i’d love for you to do that, and believe me when i say that i want it so, so bad… you know that we can’t.”
a frown tugs at your lips. you inquire, “why?”
“i mean, isn’t it obvious? this entire place is literally riddled with people who do spywork for a living and who consequently work for me,” he says, gesturing across the office. “to be completely honest, i’d be surprised if we weren’t already caught in the act and they’re just playing dumb for my sake.”
you watch as he glances around the room, as if expecting to catch something, or rather someone, hiding in the goddamn walls. a sudden tension lands on your shoulders, weighing them heavily. it feels like you’re being watched, but perhaps it’s just placebo.
it forces you to gather some mindless courage in order to make yourself feel better.
“that just means that it doesn’t matter if we go all the way,” you persist cautiously. the heat that you feel in your belly, as well as between your legs compels you to act a bit foolish. “i mean, why not give the poor suckers a show if they’re so set on watching their hokage bust a nut, mm?”
“hah!” he snickers at your comment and looks at you with pure adoration before he leans in. you preen at the closeness, at how his summery scent fills your nostrils immediately; melting you into submission.
his exhale is warm and it tickles your lips as he whispers, “did you really think i’d let them see how adorable my wife looks when i stuff her full with my cock?”
the small spark of possessiveness that he exhibits for a fraction of a second from underneath that responsible lord seventh persona lights a fire of your own within your veins. it makes your blood boil.
he’s still the same old naruto that he always was. pervy, jealous, and immensely protective of his possessions and partner because of the fear of losing them always being there. there’s no way in hell he’s letting you take your clothes off when someone other than him might be watching.
it makes you sigh as you attempt to make him reconsider, “but i—”
“i know; trust me, i know. but i gotta work.” you don’t miss the grin that follows soon after he cups your cheek with his hand and strokes your bottom lip with a calloused thumb, coaxing you to suck on it. it’s lazy and crooked; awfully fox-like but just as charming, the smile. goodness, he’s grown into such a fine man.
and he almost wins you over with it.
almost.
“stop that, naru! i’m serious,” you chide, narrowing your eyes even if it pushes more blowjob-induced tears forward and you don’t really mean the glare.
“as am i,” he says with a wink.
“no, you—… ugh.” you pause to pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation. it’s rare that he outsmarts you, but sometimes when he does manage to do it, it’s outright infuriating. “think about it this way: you can’t really feel guilty about missing out on work, when you’re technically still, well… at work. isn’t that right?”
“actually, working and being merely present in the office are two entirely different things.” he chuckles, his laugh a soft rasp that causes warmth to brush over your very heart. he holds you by the chin and pulls you closer as he adds, “listen… how about i make it up to you by whipping up a shadow clone, and then you can—”
“naruto.”
your tone turns strict as you say his full name and push up to your knees to press your hands onto his chest and your tits against his thighs. the top you’ve chosen is tight and pretty skimpy, but you comfort yourself on the fact that it’s passable just because it’s summer and the weather is hot.
even if you’d only worn it because you know what it does to him.
“i don’t want a shadow clone,” you say, suddenly completely serious. “i want you.”
he smiles, clearly flustered. “what’re you— oh.”
when you dip back down to drag your wet tongue along the side of his cock again, he grunts at the sensation, losing his words. tightens his grip that he still holds on the side of your head, while the bandages on his other hand rustle against the chair’s armrest.
you nearly start to purr by the time he subconsciously pushes you down lower so that you’d give him more, more, more. so you gift him a couple of kitten licks. a couple of messy kisses that cause his dick to twitch against your lips in response.
it’s been a while since you’ve spoiled him like this and it’s hard not to smile because of how responsive he gets to the merest hint of cock worship. you’re sweet as summer honey as you coo, “you sure you’re not gonna let me fuck myself on your cock?”
“don’t—” he flinches as he watches you pet your cheek against his dick. the things you do to him.
you look up, a perfect image of innocence despite the dirty things that you keep saying, “…‘cause i’m not wearing any panties, you know.”
“hah.” he sounds so breathless, the poor sucker. “is that so?”
“mhmm,” you nod vehemently; rubbing, rubbing, rubbing. “and oh, i’m just so wet for you, lord seventh… i’m practically dripping.”
his pupils dilate at your words, they make his blue eyes appear darker than they actually are. he’s become so sweaty and red in the face during your ministrations, as red as the tip of his fat cock that just yearns to spill the load of cum so badly right now.
you can’t help but fall in love with him for a millionth time all over again as you bat your eyelashes and blink through the last of your tears just so you can see him better.
his hair is short but it’s still damp at the temples because of the salt that lingers on his skin. you watch with hearts in your eyes as he scrubs his bandaged hand across his face, rubbing his jawline with visible exasperation.
he’s clearly lost the battle that he’s just fought and mulled over a rather concerning amount of times in the span of a couple of seconds. at long last admitting defeat, he mutters, “fine. but we really gotta be careful—”
knock, knock!
“excuse me, lord seventh? it’s mina,” a female voice sounds out. “i’ve come to discuss and go over the bulletpoints of the meeting from yesterday, just like we’ve agreed on.”
he tenses at the unexpected intrusion, eyes opening wide and startled breath catching in the back of his throat. you can see him literally slipping through your fingers as he rushes to make himself presentable as quickly as he’s able.
when you slap his hands away the moment he reaches down to tug his underwear back up and pull up the zipper, he stares at you completely baffled.
“are you serious right now?!” he whisper-shouts, his eyebrows knitting together in evident frustration as he tries to repeat the movement and you do the exact same thing as well. “you can’t j-just… oh, god... baby…”
it’s hard to not voice the groan that bubbles up his throat when your soft mouth wraps around him once more. you’re sucking him as intensely as ever yet again, twirling your tongue over the sensitive head and keeping him hard and blushing; not just over his cheeks, but down his neck, too.
persistent.
“there’s someone at the… at the fuckin’ door, sweetheart,” he tries feebly even if he’s already bucking his hips upward again and is literally sucking his breaths in through gritted teeth. “she might catch us.”
all you do is take him deeper as an answer. stroke him with your hands. love him.
naruto sighs. he closes his eyes and attempts to gather himself by taking a deep breath. he ignores — or at least tries to ignore — the way his toes curl in his shoes when the tip of your tongue drags across the sensitive slit, tasting the pearly bead of pre-cum that just keeps on oozing out again.
his face is red and sweaty, yes. and despite the flutter of a muscle that keeps ticking in his jaw every time your throat tightens around his girth, he still somehow manages to gather his wits just for long enough to gently stroke your hair and call out,
“uh… come in.”
#he’s so hot :(((((#naruto smut#naruto x reader#naruto uzumaki smut#naruto uzumaki x reader#biscuit drabbles#cw spit
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Skyline (NSFW) Ft. Eunbi and Hyewon
Authors note: an unexpected and unplanned Eunbi/Hyewon fic. Enjoy
You wake up tied to your chair confused you try to move but you are chained.
“Oh good you are awake,” a familiar voice says to you.
You are done playing nice at this point though. You turn to the voice which is behind you, “Look I don’t know who put you up to this but you are going to get yourself killed playing this game. So I suggest you back off while you still have bones.”
“Oh, what your super-powered girlfriends are going to hurt me. No, I told them if they came here you're dead. Now if they want to see you again I am expecting a formal retirement announcement from Eunbi.” the voice said, you break out of your chains and groan.
“Oh you're Superior,” you say recognizing the voice.” look I am going to leave, and if you follow me or do anything to come for me I am taking you off the census,” you add as you get up and begin to leave. You turn to make sure he sees your face. As you walk out. His face is furious and you realize that you are going to have to kill him when he says,
“You think I'll let you just leave?” you shoot a laser beam through his skull vaporizing his nervous system. He fell to the floor dead. You groan as you fly back to your apartment. You do hate killing it was messy and left too many variables in play but you weren't going to let a D-tier hero keep you as a hostage or kill you. You had too much pride for that. When you open the door Eunbi and Hyewon are waiting for you patiently. You smile at your girlfriends. Eunbi approaches you with a cute pout. She has a needy look in her eyes. Hyewon sneaks behind her. Hyewon grips Eunbi’s bountiful chest and brings her tits out. Hoping you would fuck her wild tonight. She also wanted you to destroy her pussy as well but she knew Eunbi’s tits in combination with the bloodlust you felt after a kill would be more than enough for you to be ready, but she needed one more spark which came to her when she remembered what she caught Eunbi earlier
“You know this slutty hero has been getting off on your stories right? I saw her in the bathroom masturbating to a recording of one of your early fights.” to her credit Eunbi tried not to give into her arousal but when she was aroused she came fast and violently. She desperately screamed for you, “God Overlord I love your rage please take it out on my pussy. It's so wet and ready for you.”
Eunbi and Hyewon began to strip as they continued to watch you. Eunbi eyes you with hungry eyes as you take your cock out and give it a few precautionary strokes. Eunbi’s eyes are wide.
“Is my good boy going to let me suck his cock.” she says as she manages to pull away from Hyewon long enough to get close to you. You nod as Eunbi smiles.
Hyewon smiles behind Eunbi as the duo leads you to the bedroom. “He's not a good boy.” she teases. The three of you walk into the bedroom and they begin to strip you. Eunbi starts by slowly pulling your pants and underwear down. Your cock points at her aggressively. Eunbi looks up at you eyes full of rampant lust and pent-up frustration. You caress her face letting her know it's going to be okay. She subtly nestles in your touch. You can feel her worry about your safety fade, and in its place respect and lustful fear. She looks up at you and says, “How did you ever become a villain? Everything about you is so caring and considerate. You cook meals for us. You take us shopping, heck you cuddle with us all night. Everything about you screams safety. So what made your heart so dark?”.Eunbi asked as she swallows your cock.
You consider your words carefully and ask if she wants to know. Her responsive gaze is full of lust and adoration as she nods. You turn to Hyewon she smiles and mouths “Tell her.”
“Do you remember a new hero about 8 years ago named Skyline?” you ask.
Eunbi’s eyes squint as she struggles to suck you off while answering your question. She just wants to engorge herself on your rod, gag on it, and lose herself to the pleasure but can't because she needs to be present for the conversation she asked for. As she remembers your question she nods before giving a few more bobs of her head before breaking the connection and crawling to your side. She began to leisurely stroke you. You moaned. Hyewon began to kiss you. She loved when your mind was clouded by passion whether it be derived from lust or wrath as it always led to a “good fuck” afterward.
“So what was this about skyline?” Eunbi asked you.
“Well I was Skyline,” you said to Eunbi. Your voice was heavy with the sadness of the memories. Eunbi looked at you with eyes full of soft care
“Wait how? I remember hearing that you died destroying that meteor. The same meteor That destroyed Pleasanton.” Eunbi asked as she held you in her hand. She massaged your balls as your body confused jolted into her touch, as both several emotions blurred and mixed in your mind.
“Well the reports of my death were greatly exaggerated but the short story is. I got a call from the UNSA telling me that a meteor was coming down. What they didn't tell me was that in my dealing with it would still cause damage. See they told me it was a baseball-sized meteor. So imagine my surprise when it turned out to be the size of a minivan. The UNSA figured that the meteor would kill me and they get rid of the malcontent who was vocal about the way the bureaucracy ran superhuman endeavors, but that's not what happened. Now yes my tracker and super suit all burned to ash but obviously, I didn't die. My powers mutated beyond what they were due in part to two things, the exertion of trying to stop the meteor and the radiation that it gave off, but what really “killed skyline” was the aftermath. Because the president of the UNSA used it as a platform to install the Aegis program, which I was deeply vocal against. The worst part about it all was that. Oh god.” as you spoke Hyewon felt your rage swell and it aroused her. She took matters into her own hands and started stroking you faster until you couldn't take it anymore. You got up from the bed and lined your cock with her pussy before plunging in. Hyewon moans
“Yes babe give it to me,” Hyewon said
“You dirty girl,” you say to your girlfriend before you spank her ass. You thrust slowly at first giving her time to adjust
“Just fuck me. I need it.” Hyewon whined. You grunted in response and began to thrust harder and faster. Hyewon arches her back into you as your cock sends shock waves and ripples through her ass. She smiles at you.
“Damn Hyewon you're so wet and tight tonight,” you growl. As you continue to impale her with your cock.
“Yeah, babe I got so wet thinking about you fighting.” Hyewon cooed
“Oh so you like it when I'm bloodlusted,” you question
“Oh god yes. You always are so rough with me just the way I like. I get to feel your strength tear me apart.” Hyewon moans as you pick her up to kiss her. Her tongue rapaciously invades your mouth as she tries to dominate you, but you're in charge right now not her. You lift her and put her in the mating press position.
“Oh God. You're so deep.” she moans as you lift her off and on your cock repetitively. Having not tasted her tits in a while you lean down and begin to suck on her left nipple. It drove her crazy. Both Hyewon and Eunbi had sensitive nipples so sucking on them always elicited a favorable reaction. When you finished with the left nipple you attacked the right nipple. You notice Hyewon has a nosebleed but when you mention It she says, “Don't stop keep pounding my pussy”. as you came up from the air you saw Eunbi fingering herself as you dove into Hyewon again. The dripping sounds of her sex taking her fingers in and out serve as a double dose of dopamine as you pleasure Hyewon. Her wanton look encourages you to thrust deeper and harder. Your loins are burning with the desire to fill Hyewon’s pussy. As you turn back to face Hyewon after ravaging her right nipple She moaned then yelled, “I'm cumming.” you continue to fuck her through and past her orgasm. She began to scream at being overstimulated as you kept fucking her.
“You like how I fuck her,” you say to Eunbi who watches with vehement lust. She nods as she encourages you to continue to wreck your shared girlfriend. Her pussy is now audible from across the bed as the squelching noises tell you all you need to know. Eunbi is loving the show you're putting on for her.
“Fuck that slut till she can't walk anymore,” Eunbi says with unbridled lust and lidded eyes. You gaze into her lidded eyes that scream harder and more. So you oblige you continue to fuck Hyewon through her orgasm harder and harder until she finally uses the safe word
“Sea pirate.” she gasps. You immediately cease all of the activity and set her down. Hyewon breathes heavily as you look at her with concern. Eunbi also stops pleasuring herself to check on Hyewon.
“I'm fine I just blacked out. You were too rough and I got scared.” Hyewon replied. You nodded and let Hyewon rest. She tried to convince you to get back to it but in your serious voice you responded
“No, you're done for now. I got carried away and lost control.”
Hyewon groaned, “ I just needed a little breather but I'm good now. I wanted you to fill me up.” she wined
“Another time Hyem. Right now rest.” both you and Eunbi say in your serious voices.
The rest of the night is significantly less aggressive and just somber. You spend time working on various projects to alleviate your lust. Hyewon passes out after you two stop. Later into the night, Eunbi approaches on the couch. She tells you Hyewon is still sleeping.
“Okay good I'm worried I went too hard on her.”
“She’ll be fine. It isn't the first time someone has been rough with her in bed to the point of passing out.”
You nod then a question that's been on your mind pops into your head.
“Go ahead ask it,” Eunbi says with her adorable gap-toothed smile.
“How did you know I had a question.”
Eunbi pointed to your right hand, which was opening and closing repeatedly, “You do that when something's on your mind” she answered, “let me guess how did me and Hyewon meet?”
“No that wasn't my question. I know you all were a part of the same Hero collective before the corporation backing you all disbanded,” you answer with a shrug, “my actual question was why is everyone so obsessed with me seeing red? I mean a consistent theme of my life had been people tiling me up just to see the reaction. Don't get me wrong I love being so free and expressive but I don't want to always be that.” Eunbi was stunned at your question. She had always figured that you reviled in the depravity but as she considered it again everything about you was calm nurturing and peaceable. You didn't want to fight unless it was either needed or it was to refine skills. Everything you did was in the pursuit of Honor. Every Conquest every trial had a goal She thought. The more she considered your temperament the more It made her reconsider several of her opinions and ideations of you. It shook her but also weirdly aroused her. Like her mental image of you before was this wild and free spirit but seeing you in such a grounded and focused sense made her view even more as a strong man, and if there's one thing Eunbi loved it was strong men. You watched as Eunbi lost herself in thought at your question. You didn't want to interrupt but you were taken aback when she said,
“You'd make such an excellent dad I need to make you a dad breed me now.” your cock sprung to life at her words but your mind was reeling from the mental whiplash. “Excuse me?” you questioned
“I just realized that you'd make an excellent dad. So please fuck me and put a baby in me.” you squint as you listen because none of this is how you expected the chat to go.
#kpop fanfic#fanfic#male reader#izone hyewon#izone eunbi#izone smut#kwon eunbi#eunbi smut#hyewon#hyewon smut
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Rest // Jasper W. Hale.
Jasper Whitlock-Hale x gn!reader.
Summary: You tell Jasper about your academic performance's downhill.
Fluff/angst. Burnout.
You sigh.
Your body falls down into Jasper's newly acquired bed, feeling your body slowly giving up after a very long day.
The vampire tilts his head as he gets a peek of your emotions, he lies down next to you, your head it's buried deep into one of the pillows.
He smirks and runs his cold fingers through your head. It's so pleasant, you feel the upcoming headache calm down.
"I missed you, sugar." Jasper whispers, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer. You look at him, meeting his golden eyes.
"I'm sorry, cowboy. School has been... killing me. I missed you too." You mumble back with another deep sigh, the vampire nods in understatement and kisses your forehead.
Truth is you haven't really thought about Jasper. Not because you don't love him anymore but because you just haven't thought about anything. Not school. Not about eating and waking early. Not about talking with him all day through the phone. Nothing at all. You feel empty.
"I know, darlin'. I know. Just let me take care of you today, you deserve a rest." Jasper speaks softly as his fingers rubbed small circles on your back. You felt yourself getting a little teary, being spoiled for a day sounds so nice and the little circles he rubs on are so relaxing. Now you feel so guilty for just being absent this couple of days.
"You've been working so hard." He whispers, and that makes the tears to fall down, and you can't lie. You shake your head no.
"No...No I haven't." You whisper as your voice cracks. Jasper looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"What do you mean, sugar? It's everything alright?" He asks with so much care and worry as his fingers caress your teary face.
"I- I- just...I just... I've been skipping lots of classes...entire days." You speak between small sobs. Jasper nods slowly as he listens.
"I- I- I- I can't- I can't get up in the morning some days. I just can't." You whisper, the vampire wipes your tears with his thumb.
"I just sleep so little and do so much everyday. It's not a bad thing I want to sleep a little more, r-right?" You asked.
"No, it's not, sugar. There's nothing wrong with just wanting to stay in bed and do nothing." He speaks back with a soft tone as he brings you closer. You bury your head on his chest and start to sob again. The vampire feels his heart break as he witnesses your smaller frame shake with every sob and choke on every word.
"I'm alone all day on school. I don't have friends. I don't know how to talk to anyone. I don't have a reason to get up in the morning, to get ready and shower..." You sobbed against his chest as he stroked your hair.
"Oh, my darlin'. Why haven't you told me anything? You know I'll always help you out when it's getting tough." The blonde whispers oh so gently, he means it. He'll be there.
"It's not as bad as other times. I thought it wasn't worth it to bother you, you have your life besides me." You whisper, Jasper sighs. The vampire can feel it with his gift and what he calls the boyfriend sixth sense. It is that bad.
"Nonsense, sweetheart. Bother me always. In the middle of the night, on the weekends, when I'm at school or out hunting. Bother me. Bother me and talk to me." The blonde whispers with a little more roughness, to get the message clear but still very gentle and soft. You just felt the tears falling down and the knot on your throat tighten.
He looks at you, you nod to tell him you understood.
"Can I stay here the rest of the week? I p-promise I'll go to school on monday." You whisper with a broken voice, you feel like a little kid asking their parents for permission to skip a day.
"I just want to rest. I'm so tired." You barely can choke the words out as the tears fall down uncontrollably. He cups your face as you tremble and sob.
"I know, my darlin'. It's alright. I'll take care of everything. Just breathe." He whispers softly as he guides you through a more calm couple of breaths.
"You're so nice to me I do-" Before you can finish your self-loading filled sentence Jasper's lips are on yours, a gentle kiss leaving you speechless.
"Shhh...hush now, sugar. Just calm down and rest. You deserve it. Even if you feel you don't. Even if you think you've done nothing. You're allowed to feel tired. You're allowed to rest." Jasper whispers, his eyes looking into yours, you nod slowly again as his words make you feel validated and understood for the first time in a long time.
"Good. Now, my darlin'. Close your eyes and rest for as long as you need. I'll be here, as always." The blonde smiles and kisses your forehead before you nuzzle against his shoulder.
You melt slowly into his arms, the tiredness and exhaustion finally taking massive tool on your body.
"Your bed it's so soft...." You mumble before your eyes close. The vampire chuckles as he wraps his arms tighter around you.
"Glad you like it, sugar. I got it just for you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hello, here is a very self indulgent fic. I'm a little stressed out in school so I wrote this before going to bed. Hope ya like it.
#jasper whitlock hale#jasper whitlock#jasper cullen#jasper hale#jasper hale x reader#twilight x reader#twilight x y/n#jasper hale x y/n#jasper hale x you#effervescent
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Twisted Life
Warning: smut, heavy smut, unprotected sex, yandere, noncon, dubcon, age gap, jealousy.....
Masterlist
All characters are aged up/18+
Read all warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report
Born as a non-sorcerer in a sorcerer family is such a painful life. Everyone told me that I was useless, I was just born to be a sorcerer's wife and bring him children. There's nothing else for me. But who knew that sorcerer gonna be the strongest sorcerer of the world.
I was 18 years old when Gojo clan came to my family to marry Gojo Satoru. I told my parents that I don't wanna marry now, it's too early for me. But who's gonna listen to me? I'm a non-sorcerer.... Ofcourse noone agreed with me and I got married with the strongest sorcerer of the world Gojo Satoru.
The wedding day went well. Everything went well. We got married. I got married to a man whom I don't even know. But Gojo didn't came home with me at our marriage night because of a mission. For killing a special grade course. He told me he'll be home soon. I nooded and he left.
It was two days after that night. I finished my dinner. I was wearing my short night gown. I couldn't sleep so I was watching TV. The door bell rang. I turned off the TV and looked at the clock it was too late. I opened the door anyways. It was Gojo Satoru. He was finally home. I smiled at him and give him some space to come in. He smiled back at me and came in.
I looked the door. He took off his jecket and threw it on the couch. " Did you eat something? Sorry I didn't know you were coming .... That's why I already ate my dinner-" I began to speak when he cut me off " it's okey.... Don't be sorry " he said. " You ate anything? I still have food.... I'll heat them up if you didn't ate anything yet " I said. " Nah... Not hungry rn" he said and sit on the couch.
I took his jacket and fold it. I could feel him staring at me. I put the jacket aside. I saw him took off his blindfold. "Soooo...." He began to speak. I looked at him. " Why weren't you agreed for the marriage?" He asked. My eyes widened. How did he know? "I.." " come here...sit" I went beside him and sit beside him. " Not there....here" he said patting on his lap. I looked at him with wide eyes " it's okey... I'm fin-" I couldn't complete my sentence he grabbed my hand and pulled me on his lap.
I gasped. " When I told you to sit here... You should sit here " he said with grinded teeth. Then his expression loosened again. " So.... Tell me... Why didn't you agreed" he asked again stroking my hair with a smile on his lips. " I... I d-didnt want to get m-married too early...." I spoke with a sceared voice.
He cupped my chin with hand and stocked my cheek with his thumb. " You know I never ever agreed for any marriage proposal my family told me.... But you were different.....you are gorgeous... You caught my eyes that's why I send the proposal to your family....did you knew that it I who sent the proposal?"he asked. I nodded softly. Suddenly he grabbed my shoulder and rubbed circles with his thumb. " Then why did you refused my proposal?" He asked now his pressure increases on my shoulder. "S-satoru.... it's okey...we are married now.... Your nails are digging in my skin" I said but it was like he didn't even hear me and continued his talking. " Do You know how much I am obsessed with you.... How much I love you..... I have never felt like this for anyone.... " He said. Now he was grabbing my shoulder more tightly. It was too painful. "I understand satoru but please stop you're hurting me...." I said with panic but still didn't listen to me and continued. " You don't know how many girls gave me proposal but I didn't accept them.... They were like whore.... Try to show their body to have me.... But I didn't accept them.... Why should I? I love you the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.... Then why should I accept some whore???" He said. He was starting in my soul. Now his nails were digging in my skin. "Satoru you're hurting me!!!" I scremed tears came out from my eyes. " YOU DON'T LOVE ME????? WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME????" he said in a loud voice. " Satoru stopppp" I said, pushed him and got up from his lap.
" Omg... sorry sorry.... please I'm so sorry....did I hurt you.... please forgive me....I didn't mean to.... I really didn't mean to...." He said being breathless. I saw tears in his eyes. " It's.... it's okey" I said and give him a weak smile. " No no no... I can't believe I hurt you... please.... please" he was still talking like breathless. I went towards him and put my hand on his." Hey it's okey" I said and he looked at my eyes and pulled me into a hug. I hugged him back. suddenly I felt the hug was becaming tighter. Then I felt him licking my cheek. "Okey Satoru... I'm not mad at you" I said as I tried to pull away but his grip was too tight. Then I felt him licking my jaw. "Satoru stop...." But he didn't. He started licking my neck. With all my strength I finally pushed him away. He looked at me. " Why are you pushing me away????" He asked.
"I'm not feeling....comfortable"
"I'm your husband and you're not feeling comfortable with me? Then with whom will you feel comfortable??? YUTA???"
"What?... what are you talking about?"
"I saw how you were looking at Yuta......at our wedding night"
"W-what?... I don't know what are you talking about.... I didn't looked at him that way.... I just talked with him normally "
"DON'T LIE.... You like him... don't you?... Why?... because he's same age as you?... Does age really matter that much???"
"Look Satoru I don't know what you are talking about" I said and started walking towards me and I took step back. I don't look at any where and run towards the bedroom. I could hear him running behind me. As I went into the bedroom I turned and closed the door. But Gojo didn't let it shut. He grabbed it from other side and pushed it. " Why don't you love me???... Please... please just give me one chance to prove you how much I love you..." He said and pushed the door with more pressure. I was pushing the door from the other side. But didn't take much time for the strongest to come inside. As he came inside my heart beat fasten. He closed the door and locked it.
He came towards me and hold me tightly close to him. "S-satoru... please.... Look there's nothing between me and Yuta.... Please believe me" I said with shaking voice. "That means you love me right?" He said. One of his hand started squeezing my ass. "Satoru please stop" I said. " Look... Not even one time you are accepting that you love me.... How can I make you love me????" He said. " I heard you like babies... right?" He said looking at me. "Satoru no..." I panicked.
"My parents also want a grand child" he said.
"No satoru....no..." I said and my panic increased.
"That's like.....one stone two birds " he said and smirked.
He threw me on his bed. Fear grabbed me by my neck. Gojo started crawling towards me. " S-satoru stop" I said. I tried to get off from the bed but he grabbed me by my leg and pulled me back on the bed. " Satoru please stop" I begged but he crashed his lips on mine. Kissing me roughly. Making me breathless.
He started undressing me. I tried to stop him but my strength was nothing for him. He almost took off my clothes. I was just left in my panties. Gojo started licking my nipple. His was so teasing. I moaned. He continued his teasing licking and sucking on my nipple. With his one hand he grabbed my other boob and squeezed it roughly. I scremed so loudly.
When he was done playing with my nipples and boobs he got up and started taking off my panties. " Gojo please...." I begged again but he didn't listen to me. He bring his face close to my pussy and licked it. "Ummmmmmm..... heaven~" he whispered to himself.
He took off his pant. His huge length was out now. My eyes widened at his length. It was too long and too thick. He grabbed his dick stroked it two or three times then line it with my entrence. I began to panic. " Satoru Satoru no.... please no .... Satoru please no... It's too big.... it's not gonna fit." I begged him. "Shhh darling... Don't panic... it's gonna fit... we're gonna make it fit..." He whispered in my ear.
Gojo slowly pushed his whole length in but I scremed with pain. Then he started thursting in and out. Thursting became rougher and harder. I was screming loudly. His huge dick was giving me too much pleasure with pain. He started giving me hickeys on my neck and chest. His thursting getting faster and harder. My whole body was shaking. He was moaning too. The way his dick was touching my g-spot make my back arch. It didn't take much time and I came. As I came that smirk again played on his lips.
I felt his dick started throbbing inside me. I didn't have the power to speak. It was too much for me. When my warm walls clenched around him he moaned loudly. In a few minutes he came inside me. I could feel his seed spreading inside me. He slowly pull out and threw him beside me. He hugged me and pulled me closer to him and whispered....
"don't be afraid darling... You can't understand how much I love you.... I will protect you from everything.... If anyone dare to touch you I'll give him the scariest death in the world.... we're gonna raise our baby together." He said and kissed my cheek. A part of me just telling me to run away from him... he's a monster. But the another part of me was feeling comfort in his hug....it was feeling like.... safe???
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Give me your requests.....
I love when you give me your requests<3
#jjk#smut#gojo satoru#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#yandere gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#tw noncon#dark content#gojo noncon#fem reader#female#female reader
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hi i love your writing
could you do something with reid loving that reader is pregnant. fluff or smut or both
A/N Hello! Thanks for the request! Dad!Spencer is the cutest thing on the planet so this is some unapologetic fluff. And now I have baby fever.
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, idiots in love. Loosely based on Haley and Hotch's conversation in 1x1. Very fluffy and probably very cheesy and sentimental too... Sorry, you give me girl dad Spencer and suddenly there isn't an impure thought in my head, I just want to lovingly stare at him like I'm the dead wife in an action movie montage.
My requests are open, check out my masterlist for more 🌸
“Okay, what about Amelia?”
“No, Amelia Dyer, Victorian serial killer. She killed multiple infants over a thirty-year period.”
“Okay, okay, how about, Myra?”
“Myra Hindley, she and her partner Ian Brady abducted and killed five children and teens in the early sixties.”
“God, not that then. There can’t be a psychopathic murderer called Belle, right?”
“You’re making this too easy for me, y’know. Belle Gunness, Hell’s Belle, she’s one of the most prolific female serial killers of all time, even 100 years after her supposed death. It’s fascinating, you know, people think that she actually faked her death - when the doctor who performed the postmortem testified, he noted that the cadaver was about five inches shorter and about fifty pounds lighter than Gunness supposedly was….” You raise a single eyebrow at your wonderful husband, and he immediately shuts up.
“I’m rambling aren’t I?” He smiled down at you as you sat curled up as much as you could in your favorite spot on the couch, the cosiest part of your shared apartment. You smiled back up at him as he leaned down for a kiss and you gladly craned your neck up in response, meeting his lips for a sweet moment.
“Hotch was right you know,” you joked when the two of you parted. “All of the best baby names have been taken by serial killers.”
“Yeah, you’d think with the ratio of female to male serial killers, a girl would be easier to name.” He leans down to kiss you again before falling into a crouch next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and placing his hand on your stomach.
“How big did you say our little girl is now?”
“Y/N, you asked me that half an hour ago. I know pregnancy messes with your brain a bit, but if you’re that bad we’re going to have to get you back to Dr Patel and see if you’re doing okay.” He was joking of course, but you showed him your little pout anyway, knowing that he loved seeing the silly expression on your face.
“Humor me, Doctor.” He strokes your stomach and moves away, but not too far away, taking up right next to you on the couch, and pulling your legs over his lap.
“At five months, she’s roughly 10 inches long with a weight of about 0.5-1 pound. But that ‘How Big is My Baby’ book would say that she’s roughly one banana in length.” You giggled up at him and he grabbed your hand and just held it, content to have you in his arms in any way, big or small.
“I can’t believe it’s been five months already,” you giggle as he presses another kiss to your hand.
“I get it. It doesn’t feel quite real yet to me, either. I thought for so long that fatherhood just wasn’t in my future, but you’re the gift that keeps on giving I guess. I don't know what I did to deserve you.” Even if the words weren’t so sweet, with all of the hormones, you would’ve started crying at anything. Or at least that’s what you’re going to tell him when he sees the small tears threatening to drop into enormous loving sobs.
“Spencer Reid, I am not a gift. I am simply the woman with the correct combination of sense and foolish luck that got to marry you.” He’d done this before, and you were used to his small habit of self-deprecating talk, but after a year of marriage and three years of dating before that, you’d managed to work him down to the occasional comment.
“Don’t try to argue about this, I’m definitely the one benefitting the most from the situation right now,” he joked with you, and you could see the genuine adoration shining from behind his eyes. It was a little spark that not many got to see, a glimpse of true happiness in someone usually so reserved.
“Spencer, you’ve given me foot rubs everyday this week, you’ve read more pregnancy and parenting books than every OBGYN and midwife in the area combined, and you’ve somehow attended more of my clinical check-ups than me, and I’m the one whose pregnant.”
“And you’re growing our child inside of you, which is itself more impressive than anything I could ever do with a book and some modern acts of chivalry.”
“Yeah, tell your boss that. I think the only thing keeping Emily from pulling her hair out over your constant absences is that she thinks she’s competing for the title of godmother. She thinks Penelope and JJ are trying to corrupt me with parenting advice and all those baby clothes Pen keeps bringing over.”
“She’s going to be crushed when she remembers we’re not religious, right?”
“Devastated,” the two of you shared a laugh on the couch, and it quickly devolved into a giggle fit after Spencer leaned over and tickled your side. You jolted away from his touch, but he was on you again, attacking your sides with small caresses, and you were gasping for breath between laughs.
“Spence stop- ahh!” Your squeals stopped as you cried out in shock. It was small but you felt something tap against your stomach. Spencer stopped immediately upon seeing your expression change, and a serious look settled on him as he assessed you for any damage.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you in pain anywhere, is the baby okay?” He shot out the questions rapidly, one after the other, barely leaving space to catch his own breath from the laughter of earlier.
It happened again and you put a hand to your stomach, finally realising what’s going on.
“I think I just felt her kick. Spencer, I think I just felt the baby kick.” You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face, as much as you couldn’t help the tear that dropped from your eye as your hand rested against your belly again, scared to move for fear that the baby wouldn’t communicate with you again.
“What? Now? Can I- Can I try and feel it, too?” His hands hesitated at first but when you enthusiastically nodded and used your other hand to put him close to yours, you could feel his eagerness to feel the small kicks of your daughter as well.
Almost as if she was waiting for him, as soon as his hand was in the right position, your little girl kicked again, almost as if screaming “I’m here mommy and daddy,” for the two of you to hear.
“I think she’s trying to tell us not to have fun without her,” Reid whispered in your ear, kissing your tear streaked cheek, and using his free hand to rub them away from the other side of your face.
“I am so thankful everyday for this gift you have given me. And for the record, the gift isn’t the baby. The gift is the overwhelming happiness you bring to my life, and the beauty you make me see in this world. The fact that you’re going to be the mother of my child gives me the confidence to get up and go to work every morning because I know that there is joy and there is kindness and there are beautiful people in this world, and you are one, and she will be, too.”
His attempts to dry your tears are now completely vanquished as you let your emotions run wild, but you almost laugh when you realise that his eyes are just as glassy as yours, and you both sit there, overwhelmed by the pure, unadulterated joy that a small kick from a child who has yet to be given a name has bought you.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#mgg#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x oc#I love girl dad Spencer you're going to have to claw girl dad Spencer from my cold dead hands#requested
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I’ve Been Keeping a Secret
Pairings: Husband!Travis Kelce x Wife!Reader
Words: 1,425
Warnings: Nothing, pure fluff!
Ever since Travis had said goodbye to you three days ago before he headed out for his away game in Tampa, he had only been thinking about you. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but you had been different lately. He spent the entire plane ride replaying your last couple of fights in his head to see if something had set you off and was still bothering you. In his hotel room, he scrolled through his pictures of you until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, trying to commit your beautiful face to memory. He was even off his game the first half because he couldn’t get you out of his head. Something was off about how you said goodbye to him.
Your kiss was short and sweet, a simple peck on the lips before you headed out for breakfast with his mom. Anyone else wouldn’t have thought much about it, but you usually made a big deal of his leaving, cooing over him, making sure he had a snack to take with him on the way to the plane because you knew he got cranky if he was hungry. Your kiss was usually deep and passionate, making sure it lingered on his lips for the entire duration of his trip. He was usually always 10 minutes late to the jet because you wouldn’t let him go. This time he was 10 minutes early; the team gave him shit about it.
He was settled into bed, exhausted from the game when he decided to give you a call and wish you a good night. You picked up his facetime immediately, lying in bed yourself. “Hey, baby.” Travis gave you that handsome smile that still gave you butterflies after all these years. His voice was gruff from yelling all game. “Hey love. How was the game? Congrats on the win.” “It was good, can’t wait to get back home, though. I miss you so much baby.” You rolled onto your stomach, propping your phone on the nightstand. “I miss you too, but you’ll be home tomorrow.” Your eyes started to flutter close, Travis enjoying the sight of you peaceful and safe. “I’ll let you go baby, goodnight.” He wanted to stay up all night with you, trying to figure out what if anything was wrong, but he didn’t want to push the issue tonight. “Goodnight.” You returned the sentiment before ending the call.
“You think he suspects anything?” Mama Kelce walked into your bedroom, a cup of tea and a heating pad in her hands. You chuckled, covering your face with your hands. “Uh, I hate keeping this from him. This is killing me.” His mom set the cup of tea on the nightstand before placing the heating pad on your stomach and covering you with the comforter. She sat down on the edge of the bed, stroking your arm in sympathy. “I know honey, but if he knew you were pregnant, he would have never left for the game. He would have wanted to stay with you for the rest of the season.” You laughed, knowing she was right. When it came to you, Travis didn’t act rationally. He would drop anything if you asked him to, and until about three days ago, you weren’t even sure you were pregnant.
Your symptoms had been pretty mild, but when you were up sick the night before Travis left for the road, you thought you had a stomach bug, something that had been going around. Travis offered to take you to the doctor the next morning, but you didn’t want him to get sick and wanted him focused on his game. You expected to get a prescription of steroids, but instead found out that you were three months pregnant. You and Travis had talked extensively about starting a family, but wanted to wait a little while, having only been married two years, still enjoying the honeymoon phase of your relationship. You cried tears of joy in the parking lot for over an hour, incredibly excited, but for some reason you just couldn’t dial Travis’ number. It was then that you decided Travis deserved a grand gesture to let him know you were going to be parents.
When you got home, your husband was on his way out. You were afraid if you opened your mouth, you would spill the surprise. You gave him a quick kiss, sending him on his way. You hoped you had been convincing, but Travis noticed immediately. The next couple of days were agony, but Mama Kelce and Kylie helped you create t-shirts for your nieces to wear, the girls excited to be such a big part of your surprise. When you weren’t knocked down with morning sickness, you decorated the house with balloons. The nerves started to set in when Travis texted you they were about to land, knowing that you had about 30 minutes until he was home. The family was gathered in the living room, buzzing with excitement, and you were just trying not to hurl.
Travis texted you again when he was in the car, and when you heard the garage door opening, everyone hid in the living room. You turned the lights off and headed to the kitchen. “Y/N, where are you?” Travis dropped his bags beside the door, and trekked to the kitchen, seeing the lights on. You were sitting at the island, trying to look busy on your phone. Travis wrapped you in a tight hug from behind, surprising you. You stood from the chair, and Travis immediately started planting kisses all over your face. “I missed you”, he whispered, tucking his face into your neck. “I missed you too. Come on, let’s go into the living room. I want to tell you something.” You dragged Travis by the hand, pushing him down onto the couch before taking a seat on the coffee table. You heard Elliotte giggling behind the potted plant and cleared your throat to cover the sound.
Travis’ face was blanketed in worry. He wasn’t sure what you were going to say, but he had been agonizing over it the last 72 hours and was sure it wasn’t good. “What’s going on?”, Travis asked as he grabbed both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. You dropped your eyes to the floor, letting out a sigh. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you.” Travis leaned back on the couch, not even noticing it was dark in the room. “Oh my god. Are you seeing someone else?” “What?” you laughed at his ridiculous question. “I’m gone all the time, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“Alright, I think that’s enough.” Travis’ dad flipped on the light, revealing your family hiding in spots around the room. “Surprise Uncle Travis!” Wyatt jumped out, blissfully unaware of what was going on. Travis took the sight in around him, a smile creeping on his face. “Welcome Home!” he read out on Wyatt and Elliotte’s shirts. “Thank you baby, this is a great surprise.” He envelopes you in a hug, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Before you thank me, remember you have three nieces.” You led Travis over to Bennett, who was sleeping peacefully in her car seat. He pulled her shirt down gently. “Daddy”, he read out. “Didn’t think you would want everyone to know your nickname for me, but okay Y/N.” Travis’ dad let out a groan as you rolled your eyes. “Put it all together, T”, Mama Kelce called out. “Welcome Home, Daddy”, he repeated, the sentence not clicking. “Welcome Home Daddy”, you rubbed your non-existent belly. “What?” Tears began to well in Travis’ eyes immediately, the message finally clicking.
“You’re gonna be a daddy, babe”, your voice cracked at the words. The sight of Travis crying was making you emotional. Travis picked you up, pulling you in tightly before locking lips with you, his tears hitting your cheeks. He exchanged hugs with the rest of his family before coming back over to you. “What was with all of that cheating stuff?” you asked him now that the anticipation had settled. Travis shrugged, “You were different when I left on Monday.” “So, you assumed the worst?” you rubbed his back. “I’ll never do that again.” Elliotte came over, asking to be picked up by Travis. He lifted her in his arms, Elliott hugging his neck. “Were you suprised?” she asked. Travis smiled. “I was, thank you for helping”. “You’re welcome!” she responded, “Auntie Y/N couldn’t do it because she can’t keep sequets”.
#travis kelce fluff#travis kelce fic#travis kelce imagine#travis kelce x reader#travis kelce#traviskelce#nfl fan fic#nfl fic#nfl fluff#nfl imagine
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Hi!! i can't really find if your requests are open but i really love how you write for lo'ak and i was wondering if you could write one where Jake is screaming at him yet again but he's being a bit too harsh this time so human reader stands in front of lo'ak and tells jake off? And everyone is obviously shocked because no one confronts Jake like that when he's angry, especially if it's family matters (except for neytiri of course). And clearly reader can't do much, i mean with the height difference Jake could just shove her to the side but he is quite impressed and kinda proud of the badass girl his son got himself 👀😂🤭
Pair: Lo'ak x Human reader
Warning: None <3
Avatar masterlist
Lo'ak's presence at this time of day was very strange for you. Usually the two of you used to see each other in the afternoon, when he had finished his duties. Being in a totally new clan, his duties were very different and difficult. So having him sitting behind you made you very curious. "mmm…should I ask you why you're here?" you speak, giving a glance at your mate. He was styling a piece of your hair, while humming a song. "Can't I be with you? Ah" speaks lo'ak with a teasing tone. "No…of course you can. I love that you're with me but… you're not usually with me this early in the morning. Did something happen?" you speak, and you swear you feel lo'ak tense up a little. Letting go of your hair, to now place your hands in the sand. Letting his body relax. "ahhh all good…nothing happened" lo'ak sounds a little nervous. You turn around, now sitting on your knees. You move closer to him, so you can lean over and stroke the side of his face a little. You notice a scar on his forehead.
You hadn't noticed it before, because he just came and sat behind you. "Love…what's that? Why are you hurt?" the more you talk, you can notice that he has some bruises on his arms and thighs. "Baby…don't worry it's nothing" lo'ak tries to sound disiterested. But you are already carefully touching his bruises, getting closer to his face. "Lo'ak you need to get healed…you are in bad condition" you are worried, he had two pretty deep wounds on his chest. "Tell me what happened, please" your voice sounds somewhat cut off, Lo'ak couldn't see you so worried. You were looking sadly at his bruises, trying to do something. While you were comforting him. "I…ahhh. It was another fight with ao'nung" lo'ak speaks softly. Lowering his head. "But this wasn't just a fight, this is serious" you place a hand on his chin, lifting his face. Lo'ak looks at you…his eyes were a little glassy. "We went to the arecife, they invited me. I accepted, because I thought we would have a good time…but they started teasing me and it was 6 against 1…so" lo'ak pauses, feeling you hold his face. "I did what I could…I got out of there and came looking for you" lo'ak stops talking, looking at you. He could notice your teary eyes. "Baby don't cry" lo'ak takes you by the shoulders, caressing your skin. "I hate when this happens to you…why are they like this with you?" you speak, wrapping your arms around his neck. Giving him a tight hug, you feel lo'ak hug you back. The hate and anger they had for lo'ak was not normal, both of you had been in the clan for 3 years and nothing had changed.
You look up, seeing some figures approaching you. The closer they came the more you recognized them. It was Jake, next to him was Neytiri. The way he was walking, you could tell how angry they were. You two separate and you see how lo'ak gets up from the ground nervously, approaching you. Tangling his tail around your leg. Lo'ak was a man now, but the fear of his father's accusations were killing him. Jake approaches, he had his thumbs locked. "What the hell did you do now" Jake shouts. "Dad…I can explain" lo'ak holds up his hands, trying to keep some space between them. "No…you shut up. I'm sick of you and your stupid actions" jake was literally screaming in lo'ak's face. You were standing next to him, looking up. This situation was getting on your nerves, you were at your limit. You can't take it anymore, and in one swift move. You get in between the two male figures. Pushing jake with all your strength, so that he would move away from lo'ak.
"YOU HAVE TO STOP!!!!" you shout, while jake steps back somewhat surprised. Well…he was very surprised. Neytiri had been left open-mouthed, by your actions. "THAT'S THE FIRST AND LAST TIME YOU SCREAM AND FIGHT MY PARTNER" You were red, and you looked adorable. You were so small compared to the two na'vi men standing next to you. But you looked furious…speaking with authority. "What the…" jake tries to speak, but you shout back. "HAVE YOU EVEN ASKED HIM WHAT HAPPENED? OR DON'T YOU SEE HOW HURT YOUR SON IS? AH? YOU JUST ACCUSE HIM OF EVERYTHING WITHOUT KNOWING WHAT REALLY HAPPENED…I'M SICK OF IT" you yell, turning around to grab lo'ak's hand and walk off in the opposite direction. "Y/N!!!" Neytiri yells a little, trying to get your attention. "YOU DON'T DARE TALK ABOUT LO'AK, I'M ALSO PISSED AT YOU" you yell back aneytiri, this from hiss in response. Jake holds neytiri by the shoulder, and you keep walking with lo'ak. Jake tries to control neytiri, they were two strong women. He didn't want something to happen that they would later regret. Lo'ak was in a state of shock, you had yelled at his father and mother…you had defended him. Knowing that if jake wanted to, he would have kicked you and you would have flown somewhere else. The boy just followed you, as he watched you walk around annoyed, mumbling nonsense.
As you walked away from the place, you walked for about 15 minutes. You let go of lo'ak's hand. You kicked a few times in the sand, while the boy looked at you with admiration. His strong and brave mate had defended him. His heart was pounding. Between the na'vi to defend and take care of your partner, was a gesture of pure love. You had shown lo'ak that you were capable of giving your life for him. Defending him from something bigger than you, more dangerous than you. Only for his well being. He slowly sits down on the sand, watching as you still bring out all your fury. You turn around, and are met with the most adorable scene. Lo'ak was sitting, cross-legged. His eyes were looking at you with admiration and his pupils were dilated. His tail was wagging from side to side. And his ears were back. "Lo'ak…I…I'm sorry" you lower your head. You were embarrassed, you shouldn't have talked to Jake like that.
"You are amazing…my strong Y/N" you stand there in shook, lifting your gaze to see lo'ak with a goofy smile on his face. "You're not mad at me?" you ask him, lo'ak moves forward taking your hand. Making you move closer towards him, wrapping his hands around your waist. Pulling your body closer to his chest. Giving you a kiss on your forehead, you let yourself fall forward a little, enjoying his caress. "Why would I be upset with you, if you just took care of me?" says lo'ak, you giggle a little. "Are you blushing?" you tease, touching his ears. "Hey…it's not everyday you get to watch your cute little partner take on your dad. You were amazing" lo'ak changes his voice a tone deeper, moving closer so he can press a kiss to your neck. You giggle a little, craning your neck to the side to give him more access to your neck. "Your father is going to hate me, for life. And if your mother doesn't kill me in two weeks " you speak, watching as lo'ak pulls away from you, and gives you a look. "I think she's afraid of you now" lo'ak jokes, moving closer over your body. Kissing your chest, listening to your giggles. "Or he's just going to look adorable on you" lo'ak speaks.
On the other hand, jake is still standing there in the same place, in a state of shook. "that girl is" neytiri starts talking, but she is also too shocked to speak. "She is brave" says jake. He felt a little confused. He was upset with you, but at the same time he felt respect towards you. You had stood up for your partner, you had stood up to him. Of course, he was going to talk to you seriously later. But he was proud, his son had found a strong partner, who was able to take care of him and his future family. Just like his mother.
#avatar the way of water#avatar x y/n#avatar 2022#avatar x reader#avatar x you#female y/n#human reader#human y/n#neteyam imagine#lo'ak x you#lo'ak sully#lo'ak imagine#lo'ak fluff#lo'ak x oc#lo'ak x human reader#lo'ak x y/n#lo'ak x reader#lo'ak x fem!reader#lo'ak x sister!reader#neteyam#neytiri x you#neytiri x human reader#neytiri x reader#neytiri#jake sully x human reader#jake sully
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im sorry... im not sure if you're accepting requests so i just wanted to give u my thoughts (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ
imagine toji cant sleep. why? cuz you're sleeping right next to him and he cant keep his eyes off of u. he might be tired but he's watching as your body moves against his as you breathe and the soft feeling of your bare skin as he mindlessly caresses u. hes listening to your soft snores and he smiles at the drool at the corner of ur mouth.
hes truly head over heels 4 u and all he can think about is how grateful he is for u and how much he wants to protect u from all the bad things hes seen in the world cuz ur his sweet girl forever!! <3
thank u for listening 😌
Toji watching you sleep
This is literally the cutest shit ever oh my god I wish he was mineeeeeeee!!!!!
NOT PROOFREADING BC IM LAZYYYY
Okay so like he’d be tossing and turning until he hears your soft breathing from the other side of the bed. you’re fast asleep probably dreaming about him tbh.
He can’t help but reach over and pull you closer, chest to chest, heart to heart. Your warmth immediately easing his troubled thoughts.
His arms were wrapped firm around your sleeping form. Tired irritated eyes admiring your relaxed expression. He brought his hand to your face, pushing a stray strand of hair from out your face, his fingers ghosting over your cheek.
His fingers were calloused from all the years of having to defend himself with his hands. The same hands that battered and bruised peoples faces were privileged enough to feel your soft untouched skin. Sometimes he felt like his touch wasn’t worthy enough for you. He didn’t want to taint his sweet baby with the hands of someone who’s killed before.
But your love radiated from your heart to his soul, making him selfish, you’re his and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
He’d rather hold you with his corrupted hands than have someone else, someone who could give you a normal life, hold you close like this.
Toji loves to watch you sleep. your beauty never halts for a second, even when you’re blissfully in another world while dreaming. It amazes him more, the fact that you’re unaware of the beauty you possess in such intimate moments like these.
He went from struggling to sleep because of insomnia to willingly depriving his body of rest just to watch you.
To watch the way your chest raises and falls with every deep breathe you take. The way your face twitches, probably a reaction from your dream.
He could watch you all night. He loved you so much he’d whisper it in your ear, gently kissing the top of your head.
The silence brought thoughts into his mind, thoughts of the moments you two shared. Your first kiss, your first date, your first fight. Moments he wouldn’t have wanted to share with anyone else but you. His mind and heart raced a mile per minute. He laid there under your body, hand coming up to rub his face. He looked back down at you, pure love filling his eyes.
His thoughts shifted from questions to statements.
“Does she really want to be with me forever?” “Am I really good enough for her?”
“I’m thinking too much, she’s the one, I’m sure if it, I want her in my life forever.”
Toji was not a man of many words… he kept his thoughts to himself but he’d make it known just how much he loves you. He’d protect you and cherish you for the rest of his life.
“I love you” he whispered into your hair, bringing his arms tighter around your body, stroking your hair. His heart skipped 10 thousand beats when you nuzzled into him like a little cat curling it’s body in its sleep.
It would be early morning by the time he falls alseep, 4am. The birds outside starting to chirp little wake up tunes and his mind would clear, your soft body comforting him. You’re all he needs in life, and he wants to give you the world in return for you just being you.
Man y/n’s so lucky… 😓 my inbox is open for feedback and thoughts but if you send some requests that’s fine too, I’ll get to them whenever I have time sooo if anyone wants to send me some that would be great cause I want to have more posts :) -Omi
#jjk anime#jjk toji#fushiguro toji x reader#jjk smut#toji x reader#toji x y/n#toji fic#toji fluff#jujutsu kaisen toji#dilf toji#toji fushiguro#toji imagine#fushiguro toji#toji thirst#toji headcanons#toji x you#fushiguro toji smut#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk imagines#jjk fanfic#jjk x y/n#jjk#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk x reader smut
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