#and even if it ended tomorrow. i still would not want to fuck you personally
Note
17 Jance mayhaps (if you already did it I'm sorry, I love ur style and reading your prompts!!)
Thank you so much 🥰. I think I've officially lost the battle with my “I'm keeping these short” thoughts because this is almost 1.8k oops 😅.
As always, ao3 link at the bottom if you prefer to read it there <3
(Rating: Mature)
Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss
17. … to distract.
“Please, Nacko,” Jan begged from his place on the couch.
Knowing that they had an interview the next morning, Nace had offered Jan to stay at his house. After all, it was no secret that the guitarist was by no means a morning person and, being the one who lived closest to where the interview would take place, it seemed only reasonable to offer him a place to sleep without the need to drive from Vrhnika to Ljubljana in the early morning.
And maybe – and just maybe – something inside his chest was also tickling under the pretext of seeing Jan's gorgeous face when Nace inevitably woke up before him, his features relaxed and his hair tousled. No one needed to know that, though. He was more than willing to take the secret to his grave. It wasn't like someone like Jan would ever look at him that way, anyways.
Once they arrived at the apartment, Nace offered Jan a glass of wine. The bassist himself didn't drink anymore, but he liked to always have something to offer to his guests – in this case, a bottle of red wine.
And that's how they had gotten to this situation, Jan sitting cross-legged on the couch, an empty glass on the small table in front of him and looking up in the direction of Nace, who was standing on the other side of the table, with his pajamas already on and holding the bottle in his hand.
“I've already told you, Jan,” he said, a hint of tiredness in his voice. “You know that on any other occasion I wouldn't mind you drinking more, but we have an interview tomorrow and we can't risk you having a raging hangover because you drank the whole bottle of wine by yourself.”
“...Please?” Jan asked again, pouting and looking up at him with those beautiful dark puppy eyes that had no right to be so adorable. That, combined with the fact that his improvised pajamas were his boxer shorts and one of Nace's old t-shirts that was definitely too big on him – the length reaching almost halfway down his thighs and the collar being so wide that it left one of his shoulders exposed, as well as a bit of his chest hair – was definitely not helping Nace keep his thoughts pure.
He thought about how his hands would feel exploring the skin under the t-shirt or pulling on those gorgeous black locks, how he'd look up at him with his big brown eyes just like that while Nace fucked his mouth, taking it all like the good boy he knew he could be; how he’d love to kiss and bite and mark that exposed skin on his shoulder and neck until everyone knew who he belonged to, how he'd beg even prettier for Nace to touch him, to make him feel good; how he'd look all sweaty and ruined with his head thrown back, moaning Nace's name at the peak of his pleasure as he pounded into that sweet spot inside him over and over and-
Nace really needed to stop his train of thoughts right there before this ended in a terribly embarrassing situation.
“I'm sorry, okay?” He smiled at him apologetically, setting the bottle down on the table as he took a seat on the other side of the couch, hoping the other didn't notice the slight blush he felt creeping up his cheeks. “I know you probably don't want to go to sleep yet so… anything else you want to-”
The question died on the bassist's lips as he suddenly felt Jan straddle his thighs, resting his hands gently on his chest.
Nace simply remained still, his body a bit tense and his eyes wide open in surprise. He still didn't look at the guitarist's face, a million questions running through his mind when all of a sudden the weight of the younger man in his lap and the burning touch of his hands on his chest clouded his senses.
Eventually, he dared to look up, finding Jan's eyes, those eyes that made Nace's knees go weak and that accompanied him in his most sinful fantasies, looking back at him with that smirk he always had plastered on his face when he had an idea. He knew exactly what he was doing and Nace had fallen right into his trap.
“Hello there, Mr. Jordan,” Jan said, his deep voice reverberating in Nace's brain, as his hands went up to cup his cheeks.
He didn't respond, his own hands moving to Jan's thighs, over his t-shirt, while his eyes were flicking from the other's eyes to his lips and then up again and oh how much he'd like to send it all to hell and close the distance between them and-
Before he knew it, Jan's lips were on his.
Nace didn't move his hands, the uncertainty of not knowing how far Jan was willing to take this surpassing the urge to touch every single part of the other's body; but he started to reciprocate the kiss, taking everything Jan had to give him and trying to burn it into his memory, almost as if he was afraid that it was all a dream product of his treacherous imagination and he might wake up at any moment.
Their lips moved slowly against each other, his mouth opening in a silent invitation that Jan didn't hesitate to take, tongues dancing together in a rhythm known only to them.
Everything was so sultry, so sensual, so… Jan. It was intoxicating. And Nace didn't think he would ever get enough of this.
All too soon, the guitarist broke the kiss, pulling away completely and taking his place back on the couch. Nace immediately missed the warmth of his body pressing against his own.
“W-what was that for?” he asked after a few seconds, trying to sound nonchalant despite the deep blush he felt covering his face.
“Nothing,” Jan shrugged. “Can't I just kiss my really hot friend?”
At that, Nace looked up, meeting that mischievous grin before his gaze finally fell on the bottle that had somehow ended up in Jan's hands. Little shit.
“Oh hell no, come here,” he tugged at his arm and in one swift motion took the bottle from him, setting it safely on the table, and took him back into his lap, making him let out a surprised gasp.
“Well, I guess this will do too,” Jan smirked, moving his arms up to wrap them around Nace's neck, tangling his hands in the soft curls at the nape of his neck and drawing him into another kiss.
Nace didn't hold back this time, all the blood he had been trying to suppress from traveling south now rushed to his cock as his hands began to caress the body of the man on top of him.
The touch of his cold hands against the warm skin of his thighs sent a shiver down Jan's spine. Nace's hands traveled up his thighs, slowly slipping under his shirt until they reached his waist, grabbing it and moving his body so they could start grinding against each other.
Deep groans escaped their mouths the moment both of their already half-hard dicks brushed against each other, making them break the kiss, their foreheads pressed against one another as they breathed heavily into each other's mouths.
Without halting his movements, Nace leaned close to his ear and whispered: “Did you just want to distract me so you could get another glass or are you just a horny little slut, baby?”, catching the lobe between his teeth to emphasize his words before starting a trail of open-mouthed kisses and little nibbles along his jaw and neck.
The sound the younger man let out and the way Jan's hips jerked forward of their own accord, beginning to grind down more desperately, told Nace everything he needed to know.
It was still fun to tease him, though.
“I need words, honey. Or do you want me to stop?” he said teasingly. As if you'd be able to stop now that you finally have what you've been dreaming about for so long, the rational part of his brain told him.
“Please don’t stop.” Jan whined. “F-fuck, God knows how long I've been waiting for this.”
That sound, that plea, the meaning those words entailed all sent an electric jolt straight to Nace's cock. He sounded so beautifully desperate and– God. Jan Peteh was going to be the death of him.
“Oh yeah? Do I make you hard, baby?” he punctuated his words with a particularly hard thrust of his hips.
“So damn much, you have no idea. Fuck, have you seen yourself?”
Jan buried his face in Nace's neck, exploring his skin with his lips and teeth, careful not to leave marks in a place that would be visible during the interview and paying special attention to discover the bassist's most sensitive spots. Nace tilted his head to the side to grant him more access.
Neither of them could stop the soft little noises escaping their mouths, getting increasingly louder as Nace's hands started to roam all over the younger's back. They came to a stop at his ass, cupping Jan's cheeks over his boxers and pulling him even closer.
The increased pressure on his crotch caused the guitarist to pull away from Nace's neck, throwing his head back and exposing his throat as a sinful moan escaped his lips. It was probably the most erotic thing Nace had ever seen in his entire life.
However, as heavenly as the dry humping felt, Nace wanted – needed – more. He needed to feel skin on skin with the man that had been occupying his every thought ever since he officially joined the band.
He slowly licked a strip up his deliciously exposed throat, a smug smile spreading across his face at the shudder that ran through Jan's body.
“Shall we take this to the bedroom, kitten?” he asked, his deep voice accompanied with a little squeeze on his ass making Jan blush furiously.
Instead of answering, Jan smashed their lips together in a hungry, passionate kiss.
Nace took that as a yes, placing his hands under Jan's thighs and lifting them both off the couch to start the short walk to his room, grinning into the kiss when he felt Jan's dick twitch at the casual demonstration of strength as he wrapped his legs around his waist.
As he closed the bedroom door and threw a very flushed and now fully hard Jan unceremoniously on his bed, Nace made a mental note to treat him to all the red wine he wished for the days to come.
masterlist | ao3
#i'm actually proud of this one hehe hope you like it 🤭#also this is the 20th prompt like WHAT :O#joker out#jan peteh#nace jordan#jance#ask#mine#maca writes#kiss prompts#i just think jan should be called kitten in fics more often and i couldn't help myself
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gay trans men: isn’t it fucked up that so many cis gay men proudly talk about how disgusting they think our bodies are, get violent when they realize they were attracted to one of us, push us out of community spaces because they don’t think we belong there, invalidate the orientation of the cis gay men who enter into relationships with us, accuse us of raping the cis gay men we’ve had sex with, aggressively misgender us and make assumptions about our bodies, act like their personal lack of desire to be with us means we must be fundamentally unattractive and morally reprehensible, and generally treat our existence like a personal attack worthy of a violent response when all we’re trying to do is exist?
those cis gay men & their friends: oh my god, you’re literally trying to force your disgusting female pussy onto gay men! this is conversion therapy! you’re a predator and a rapist and you deserve to die!
gay trans men: …we literally do not care if you have sex with us. nobody said anything about that. a lot of us are t4t, asexual, and/or already in a relationship, and the rest of also don’t want to have sex with you that badly because we would much rather be fucking someone who actually likes us; this has never been about who we personally want to sleep with. we’d just really appreciate it if you could treat us like human beings and not actively try to make the gay community hostile toward our existence. you don’t have to be attracted to us, just don’t be awful to us? and maybe, once you have that part down, ask yourself why you were so quick to assume a subset of queer people are all violent predators?
those people: HOMOPHOBES! EVIL GROSS FETISHIZING RAPIST HOMOPHOBES!
#it really is like talking to a brick wall. an aggressively bigoted brick wall#i promise none of you are such spectacular lovers that we’re going to those lengths to fuck you#the more mad we make you the more likely it is that none of us would touch you with a ten foot pole#like. me and my five year committed gay relationship do not want to fuck you#and even if it ended tomorrow. i still would not want to fuck you personally#bc i 1) am primarily t4t. 2) have fucking standards. and 3) have no interest in fucking people who don’t want to fuck me#this was never about wanting to get in bed with you#we just want to exist in peace#transandrophobia#transandromisia#transmisandry#virilmisia#virilphobia#anti transmasculinity#transmascphobia#trans men#transmascs
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My superpower is that I get so obsessed with something that I cannot stop thinking about it long enough to sleep. It's also not a superpower and actually is a curse
#This rp server I spectate in has irreversibly changed my brain. And my sleep schedule. I need mental help#Nebbie posts#Nebbie text posting#Send fucking post#it is four thirty am here and I have to bike to school tomorrow. I'm gonna be sick#Wanna hear my ideas? My fucking Ideas? I've got Ideas wanna fucking hear?#First my oc VK who I've talked about once and never made a ref sheet for has a full name now. She's not just initials anymore#Did you know? In a post apocalyptic setting VK would grab a fucking musical instrument and learn to play it and start singing to cope#Little buddy is there for moral support and is also the only other thing that keeps her going aside from badly singing Turquoise October#One and Disc are. Actively becoming the worst power couple in the world. Awful awful people who would kill you for sport#At least One has trans swag though. He's still obsessed with makeup and fashion and turf wars even when the world ends#No ideas for the inkling guy who's unnamed or any other minor splat ocs I've got. Woo#Driving me actively insane. This rp server is driving me crazy insane in a positive way. If only I had the guts to actually tell anyone#I need to scream somewhere about it. Praying no one from that server looks at my blog ever. Or just specifically this post#I told them I read every single rp message in the server (5k+) and like. That I really liked it but#How do you tell someone that something they do has like. Chemically changed you to an extreme extent. How can I ever say that#They're like STRANGERS I've said like FIVE words to them. It's like I walked in on a FAMOUS person#The parasocial is. I want to actually be friends with these people they're so cool but I've put myself into a parasocial thing#They've already got an established friend group and like. I've never been able to join an established friend group#I did it ONCE in middle school by fucking LUCK and it's never happened again. Spect 7 was my magnum opus#I tried to join a friend group one time in the Hollow Knight community and then it just crashed and burned so.#I guess I've just got a doomsday sort of view of interacting with people now. I've never had it work out before#God damn. Earlier I was thinking that past 3am is my poor decision making time and it's so true. Fuck. God damn#Whatever. I need a 3am emotional rambling tag.#It's 4am but whatever#To clarify ig. You can reblog this because the actual post is funny (to midnight me at least) just pretend these tags don't exist lol
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bitter to the taste; luke castellan
series masterlist
wc + pairing: 5.5k, luke castellan x f!reader
synopsis: a sharp blade, a black eye, and (more than) two kisses.
warnings: this is even sluttier than the last one, language, sword fighting, sharp objects, blood/injuries, reader is still a horrible person and so is luke but he's also a loooser, making out, allusions/mentions of sex but no super explicit descriptions, kind of fluffy at the end
notes: i’m starting to hate this bc i think i’ve been staring at it too long sorry if this is not as good as pt.1 but i have plans for this series ok. also READER AND LUKE ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE!!! THEIR RELATIONSHIP WILL NOT ALWAYS BE GOOD!!! THEY SUCK!! they are also not real but keep that in mind :) synopsis inspired by crush by ethel cain; designated song for this fic is unpunishable by ethel cain (i’ve got a whole chronological playlist for these freaks like it’s serious)
You’ve always had a taste for violence. And an equally powerful penchant for sloth.
You prefer to watch the carnage, not participate. It satisfies something inside you that you know, if it wasn’t for your laziness, could cause something irrevocable. Who the hell has time for that?. You’d rather lie back and watch instead.
This flaw of yours is the only reason you haven’t stirred more trouble, you think. It’s the reason you never attend camp games or sparring lessons. Sometimes, when you do, a dark muscle flexes inside your heart to curl out of its slumber, forming a hunger you don’t have otherwise. The second it starts to pry you have to rear yourself back and tuck the monster in. Banish the need for something more.
You don’t want to feed it. You don’t know what happens if you do. So you let other people do the feeding for you.
Luke cuts through two dummy heads in one swoop. It’s fucking gorgeous. The moon reflects off his sword, a silver sheen casting his face when he’s in the right spot. His brows are set, eyes so dark they blend with the night. Every motion is ruthless. Satisfying.
You don’t know how many times you’ve watched him like this. He called you out for it last night, but you’re sure he doesn’t know the half of it. The shadows are a sacred cloak to you, and you wait inside them until you want your presence known.
Meet me tomorrow.
It runs through your head like a broken record. You can still feel his breath on your lips and your neck is still tender—had to wear a sweater in the blazing heat to hide the marks. Since you were created you’ve accepted a universal truth about yourself: you don’t harbour affection for anyone or anything. There’s not a single thing you’ve felt drawn to or protective over but yourself. It’s solitary, yes, and lonely, yes, but that’s the way you’re supposed to be.
But you think about last night. You think about the moments between the kisses and the rush. When he teased you against your ear. When his hand brushed a certain spot on your back and something much lighter fluttered inside of you. When you crawled into sleep and thought about him, those were the moments that struck you the strangest.
His gaze pans over the treeline every once in a while, the anger diluted. Then it comes back twice as hard as he shreds another dummy to pieces.
He’s waiting for you. Oh, this is rich! A better person would probably turn around and go spoon their offerings into the bonfire the second they understand what they’re doing is incredibly destructive. But who are we kidding? You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.
So you take a step forward, slip out of the comfort of the dark, and the next time he looks to the treeline he knows you’re there. He can’t see you, but he knows.
You wait. His strikes are less tenuous, much smoother. It almost makes you laugh. Some fucking showman he is.
Eventually, he buries his blade in the dirt and wipes his brow. “Are you gonna come talk to me or are you gonna stare at me all night like an owl?”
You relish in the feeling of shedding the darkness, coming into the light of the moon. “Hi,” you say flatly, but there’s a tiny smile on his face when he sees you that almost puts you off.
“Hello, rotten.” He tries to lean on the hilt of his sword but it isn’t quite tall enough so he stumbles. It’s so pathetic it almost makes you laugh.
“Don’t call me that,” you grimace.
“Okay, back to heathen?”
“Don’t call me that either.”
“Well, you don’t seem too happy when people call you by your name so pick your poison here.”
You don’t say anything, your mouth set in a scowl. “All right, both it is,” Luke shrugs.
He’s different from last night. Less impatient. You hope it’s not because he thinks he has you now—he’s got another thing coming. “I almost thought you weren’t gonna come,” he says with a crooked grin, neither bashful nor ashamed.
You’ve made your way closer to him, the soft grass turning to dusty earth. “Don’t know why I did,” you mutter crassly.
Having abandoned his sword, Luke chuckles wryly. “Yes, you do.”
That bitterness he hides from everyone else pierces through. He tilts your face up like he did yesterday, the press of his fingers beneath your chin almost burning you. You know he’s peering at the marks on your neck.
“If you made me come here just to hook up with me you’re delusional,” you glare.
“What, like that’s not why you’re here?” He pushes your face up a little higher, grinning a little when you add resistance. “I’m a gentleman, you know. I can be patient.”
This guy is full of fucking shit.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you snipe. The only point of contact you have is his hand on your chin, but you’re a hair’s breadth away from having everything else. The air drifting between you is almost palpable, shrinking smaller and smaller like it’s terrified of being trapped between you.
He keeps your face still. He’s studying you, and you’re suddenly curious about what he sees. You remember all those looks you’d share at the dinner tables that made this happen in the first place. What did he see then?
“You wanna fight?”
It takes you a second to react. “What?”
“You want to fight. Pick up a sword, let’s go.” He smiles as he finally lets you go, waltzing away from you to unbury his sword from the dirt. His touch permeates through your skin and you hate it.
“What the fuck are you talking about? I can’t fight.”
“Sure you can,” he replies, grabbing another sword from the training rack. “You need to burn off a little steam.”
You laugh sharply. “And you think me waving a sword around is gonna do that?”
“Uh, yeah,” he grins. “It’s the method that lets us keep the most clothes on.”
You glare at him. His smirk is a mile wide. The way your stomach is simmering almost makes you sick; it’s like gorging yourself on candy except this time the candy has a sword and maybe wants to fuck you.
You just watch as he hands you his sword, and the moonlight glinting off the metal has you believing it’s not the kind used for training. “I’ll use the dull one,” he assures. “C’mon, heathen. I know you’ve used a sword before, they force us to.”
“I usually skip those classes.”
He laughs. You can’t tell if it’s at you or with you. “Of course you do.”
You don’t like following orders, but oh, what the hell. Luke knows something about you, just like you know something about him. You’re only a little curious about it.
“Straighten your back,” is the first thing he says once you’ve taken your stance across from him. The blunt of his sword reaches out to tap your hip.
You begrudgingly do as you’re told. He watches you mirthfully, and the press of his sword against you starts to feel like a substitute for his hand. All the closeness you’re hungry for, dampened by cold steel. It still makes you buzz.
He gives you the barebones—the right grip, how to maneuver, the proper balance. But long gone is his easy disposition. The motor inside him that powered all those dummy beheadings and disembowelments is running again, except this time it’s for you. He wants a fight. This is his battlefield. All right, you’ll bite.
You start to spar with the skill of an overgrown toddler. The sword feels like an unnatural ligament hanging off your body. Luke is precise, convicting, far more enthusiastic than you. “You can do better than that,” he prods after your swords clash lazily for the billionth time. “Stop going easy.”
“You’re going easy,” you shoot back.
“Yeah, but I’d really rather not. Come on.”
There’s a moment of hesitation. You think about that dark thing you keep harboured. A muscle aching to be used.
“Come on,” he says again, and he almost sounds pissed. “All of a sudden you’re playing nice? What are you afraid of?”
Something flares inside you. “Nothing!”
“Then pick up the sword and fight me.”
You huff and roll your eyes, but your next swing is far more inspired. Luke blocks it easily, but you don’t care. “There we go,” he nods. “Again.”
This is more than you bargained for when you decided to come see him. All you want is to make out with this hot, awful person and have him tell you hot, awful things about yourself you probably already know. Why do you have to fight to get it?
He keeps provoking you no matter how hard you try. Your temper picks up the more you swing, discordant clangs bruising the air, but it’s still not enough. Luke doesn’t let up. Of course the one time you try to be nice, you’re not allowed to. On second thought, why are you reigning yourself in for Luke? The only other person in camp with a real, consuming viciousness? If anything you should hit him twice as hard, since he’s so sure he can take it.
“No wonder you’re so angry all the time,” Luke heaves out, and it gives you a swell of satisfaction. “You don’t have a proper outlet. Maybe you’d be nicer if you didn’t sit around and complain all day.”
“Shut up,” you gnash your teeth.
“Just saying, maybe you should do something about it.”
You’re getting lost in the rhythm of the swords, the adrenaline, the sweat passing the scar on his cheek. Every swing you think less and less, and that dark muscle flexes more and more. It feels like home to you. Like a good meal. Your bones ache and the world has darkened, but that rotten pit inside you cracks open in full bloom.
Luke keeps egging you on but you can’t hear him. Not like he still needs to. You think you’re smiling, or huffing furiously, or both. The sharpness of the sword intrigues you. A million terrible things reflect off its blade and you imagine them, all at once, until you are out of your body and the black hole inside you has properly wedged itself open.
Luke jabs at you and you bring your sword down with a vengeance. But it’s a little too low. You only notice when he drops his weapon to the side and staggers back.
The fog of violence falters. It fades almost completely when he hisses long and hard, eyes screwed shut, and you see the tear in his shirt. In his skin.
“Shit,” you say. “Fuck.”
You don’t sound sorry, you don’t think you are sorry, especially when he laughs. It’s a wheezy one through his teeth as you come up to him, but a laugh nonetheless. “Knew you were going easy,” he remarks through a wince.
You ignore him, looking down at the injury. A gash across his abdomen. It’s bleeding a little, but not enough for it to drip. You did that. Just looking at the blood, you feel the bitter taste of it in your mouth, the reward a temporary hunger for carnage brought you. This is why you don’t play camp games.
“I’ve got thick skin. I’m fine,” Luke says casually. “I’ve got a medical kit under that tree over there in case I beat myself up too bad.” He’s no longer scrunched in pain, and you’ve got a feeling he’s telling the truth. So you go fetch the kit where he said it was. You need to wrap that slash. Not because you’re sorry for him, but because looking at it makes you angry.
You kneel and pop the lid of the small tin kit, covered in dirt. It’s mostly gauze and bandages. Rubbing alcohol too. “Just give me the gauze, that’s all I need,” Luke gestures.
“Shut the fuck up, I’m doing it myself.” You’ve already torn off some gauze, sitting all the way up on your knees.
“Most people just say sorry.”
“You pushed me,” you spit back, surprisingly forceful. Luke’s smile drops. You take a deep breath, adjusting yourself to get eye level with the injury. “I told you I don’t fight.”
You’re not sure what makes Luke give in, but he doesn’t say a word as you lift the hem of his torn shirt and he holds it up. There’s no proud remark about your eyes lingering on his stomach, or the hesitation in your hands. You stare at the wound. It really is shallow. Your thumb presses at the skin around it and he winces. “My bad,” you mutter.
As you sterilize the cut and wrap the gauze around his torso, you try not to let your fingertips cling to the warmth on his skin. You try not to notice the other scars littered there, most faded to the point they should be impossible to pick up even in the sun. It’s obvious he’s staring at you. Your neck is crawling with warmth. But you don’t engage, you just wrap the gauze a few times and do your best not to notice the rise and fall beneath his muscles as he breathes. Then you fasten things neatly and put everything away so you can get up. Any second. Come on.
“Good?” You ask instead, exhaling.
“Good,” he affirms. He slides a hand under your forearm and gets you up. It stays there once you’re standing. The night stills.
“I’m guessing you’re adding ‘attempted killer’ to your list of horrible qualities,” you go on to break the silence.
He holds your gaze unyieldingly. “I’d consider that a pro, actually.”
You are entirely fed up with this drawn out evening, but you can’t bring yourself to speed anything up any more than stepping closer so your chests brush. “I will give you one, though,” he continues, craning down to your ear. You smell his skin and it sends you back to the position you were in yesterday.
He finally kisses your jaw, just once, then your neck. You shiver. “You’re too tense.” Another kiss behind your ear. It’s not enough. “Do you even know how to have fun?”
“I don’t want to have fun,” you reply bitterly. I just want to make out with you, asshat.
Luke’s breath frosts over your face when he chuckles, but before he can get any further away you catch his mouth with yours. Almost instinctively his arm winds around you to pull you in closer, your hand looping through his curls. It's a relief, knowing last night wasn't some freak accident. This does feel good, actually, and it can happen. Everything you felt yesterday is only more urgent now, hungrier, and you're pretty sure the way you kiss him gives that away.
He indulges you, squeezing the base of your hips as his other hand thumbs across the marks on your neck. This is so fucking embarassing—you think you whine when he bites down on your bottom lip. You’ve never needed something this bad, you’ve never needed anything. But you press yourself as close to him as you can manage and his hand runs lower, slips against your inner thighs, and it’s difficult to worry about anything else.
Until he pulls away. Like a dick.
He doesn’t go far, his forehead pressed to yours, but you feel like pulling out all his hair. It’s a muddling mix of frustration and longing you’re starting to associate with him. “Dude,” you groan, an inner coil only starting to unwind begrudgingly compressing.
“Let’s go for a swim,” he says. The enthusiasm is almost alarming. Almost makes him look younger.
You’re homicidal. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Yes, heathen. Let’s go for a swim, come on.”
He’s rubbing circles on your thigh, which only makes you want to strangle him. “But I—I don’t have my bathing suit,” you string out.
The smile gets more boyish. “Wow, whatever shall we do?”
It’s another challenge. Another dare. And he knows what you want, fucking jerk. You’re going to kill him.
“Fine,” you grunt, and the second the words leave your lips you’re pulled to the lake.
It’s a warm, sticky evening, only made worse with the sweat and the half-assed kissing, so the water doesn’t seem all that bad. Unfortunately, you don’t like giving into demands. So you stare ghoulishly at your fingernails as Luke tosses off his ripped shirt and his shorts so he can plunge into the lake. “Aren’t you going to at least come in?” He asks, but you don’t look at him.
“I don’t like swimming,” you lie.
“At least your feet. It’s nice, I swear!”
A splash, like smoke moving through wind chimes. You look up and Luke has completely submerged, popping his head up closer to the mouth of the dock. “Please,” he says with such conviction your resolve turns to butter. Gods, what is happening to you? You still need that lobotomy!
You sigh, roll your eyes, turn your back to him. “Fuck this,” you mutter under your breath. You undress to your undergarments and you’re not sure if you want Luke to be watching or not. The moon touches your bare skin and a chill trickles through you.
You take a seat at the edge of the dock, knees tucked to your chest. Luke swims over for you right away. His hair is dripping against his skin, and you hate how beautiful it looks. The waterline is high tonight, almost ridiculously so, so he props his elbows up on the dock with no problem. “Come in,” he urges.
“No.”
“Just your legs?”
“No.”
“Gods, I’ll make it worth it, just throw your damn legs in!”
Your eyebrows shoot up. His face is stubbornly pink. Oh, so now he wants something. You take your time uncurling yourself and Luke wades away from the dock so you can put your feet in. The water goes up to your calves, and you shiver. “So fucking difficult,” he mutters, and your pulse flickers.
“Sorry, what was that?” You let yourself grin for the first time all night.
“Nothing,” he hums. This time when he comes to the dock, he wraps his hands around your calves. You’re pretty sure he can stand here because he stops treading. The warmth of the water seems to spread further, long past the threshold of your knees.
He rests his chin just above your knee, water pooling on your skin. “Stop dripping on me,” you complain.
“Sorry.” He fake pouts when he kisses the damp spot. You see, ever so faintly, a diabolic shift in his expression. He nudges your leg with the point of his nose, then kisses it, then starts to move it aside. “Feel bad about teasing you all night,” he murmurs, still with an edge. He presses more kisses on your legs. “I really did want to see you.”
The irony that he’s still teasing is not lost on you. You’re not loving how desperately warm you’re starting to feel. “Why’s that?” You lean back on your palms.
“You’re a very interesting person,” he quips innocently. His hands are cupping the backs of your calves. He’s pulled you a lot closer to the water, and somehow you’ve just noticed. Another blistering kiss on the inside of your thigh.
“You’re fucking evil,” you scathe.
He looks up at you from between your legs. “You have literally done nothing but berate and injure me this whole evening.”
“Yeah, and right after I patch you up you jump in the water for shits. You’re playing infection roulette, Castellan.”
“See? You’re so mean.” He sighs, and in a move that almost surprises you to death, he hoists both your legs over his shoulders and they dangle into the river behind him. “And here I am anyway, making it up to you.”
You are suddenly illuminated on the purpose of this situation. Why Luke is between your legs. Your heart jolts. “Luke, you can’t be serious.”
“Mmhm.” He leans forward to kiss right under your navel.
You hate how much you want him to do it again, how your body burns, but you avert your eyes. “Someone’s gonna—someone’s gonna hear us.”
He snorts, “No they won’t. Either this or you come in the water with me. Or both. We’ll see.”
A huge smile cracks across your face before you push it back down. You’re going to spend a lot of time coming back to this moment, this night, wondering why. “What is wrong with you.”
It comes out like a compliment when it leaves you. You want to vanish. Luke chuckles, and something foreign to the both of you buzzes through the air.
“Are you going to be nice?” He asks against your skin.
“Are you going to be quick?”
His mouth finds your hip bones and yeah, why the hell would you say no to this? He nods, “Swear.”
That’s all you need. You let your eyes slide shut and your head tilts towards the sky. Luke takes your permission and runs with it, pries you open with his mouth until the stars soak through the black of your eyelids.
You discover pretty quickly neither of you are good at keeping promises.
The next time you need Luke’s med kit, he’s already awake.
It’s been happening more and more often. You lurking around camp past moonrise and finding Luke outside his cabin, going for a walk or a stretch or a … something with you.
“Do you ever sleep?” You ask him sometimes between flurries of kisses with your back against a tree.
“Could ask you the same thing, heathen,” he squeezes your hips and nips at your neck, but never answers the question. And neither do you, so you’re both okay with it. You’d hate to give up this feeling, but he doesn’t need to know that.
This is the first time in your punitive life you have felt alive. Like a person, with bones and flesh and soul, a real presence. Not a ghost of smoke and shadow. You are real.
Fooling around makes you feel like an actual teenager. You’re young, you remember when Luke joins you in the dark. You’re having fun. His hands under your shirt and his mouth on your collarbone, the way he bites down and winces when you do something a little too well, when you string out his name and he rewards you for it. You’re both greedy, insatiable people, so there’s a push and pull only the two of you would ever be able to handle. And nobody has to know. Despite all the bruises, the sleepless nights, the swollen lips, all you and Luke share in the daylight are noxious looks, and that's only if he can find you. A perfect crime. Camp Half-Blood’s angel and the vice that lives in the shadows. But in the dark, it’s hard to tell which is which.
“Luke,” you whisper. “Luke.”
“I’m up,” he grumbles, peering up at you. “You shouldn’t sneak into my cabin.” He was already sitting up in his bed when you slipped in, and he didn’t notice you were there till you were right in front of him.
“Worried someone will catch me? You should know better.”
He follows you outside so you don’t wake the other campers. There’s a thrill knowing just one interaction between the two of you could ruin both your reputations forever.
“What is it, heathen?” He asks as the door closes behind him. It’s so dark and your back is turned to him, but his voice is drenched in smugness. “You don’t usually want to put up with me more than once a night.”
“Don’t have a choice,” you mutter, staring out at the camp. You go to chew on your bottom lip, but you wince immediately. “Where’s your kit thingy? The one we used after I impaled you.”
“You mean after you lightly grazed me?”
“Just tell me where it is, Luke.”
Your sharpness could cut through any sleepy daze he possibly has. He’s silent behind you for a second. “Why?” He asks.
“Because I need it.���
His hand curls around your shoulder and before you can think to submerge yourself in darkness, he turns you around. When he sees you, his face breaks from something proud to something … you’re not sure you like. “Oh, heathen,” he murmurs. “What happened to you?”
You guess it’s a semi-appropriate reaction, although you expected at least a grimace. To put it lightly, your face looks gnarly as fuck. There’s a bruise on your cheekbone and your lip is split. But what really draws attention is the half-formed, garish black eye swelling up your right side.
“Just the usual. Pissed someone off.” It hurts the skin on your lip that’s caked with blood.
He rests his thumb on your unbruised cheek, but somehow it still stings. You know he can’t see much of you in the dark but he tries. The prolonged eye contact without the imminent promise of a kiss feels foreign. “You need to go to the Apollo cabin,” he concludes, brows pushed together.
A laugh slips past your broken lips. “No fucking shot. They would not help me.”
“Why not?”
“Because one of their shit-eaters did this!”
The words take a moment to register. You see them filtering through Luke’s brain. He blinks absurdly. “An Apollo guy beat you up?”
“Not beat up. Just … tussled.”
“How much tussling earns you a black eye, exactly? From Apollo kids.”
“Gods, just tell me where your kit is so you can go back to fucking sleep.”
His fingertips inch around the back of your neck, thumb still against your face. “Already wasn’t sleeping. I might as well help you,” he shrugs. “I move the kit every once in a while so some other campers don’t ravage it.”
“I don’t need help.”
Luke opens his mouth, then sighs deeply. He takes a firm hold of your arm and starts to tug you along. “Hey, what—” you swat at his arm.
“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs. “Come on.”
It’s strange. Luke’s never done you a favour before. At least not one like this. You’re disgruntled enough that you had to go ask him in the first place and now he’s dragging you around? “This isn’t such a big deal, Luke,” you badger. “I’m fine.”
“Sure, whatever. Wait right here.” He lets go of you and only then you realize you’re in front of the Apollo cabin. You grimace, and Luke must have noticed because he says, “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna go inside and grab some things. No one’s gonna jump you.”
You scowl at him, and he just laughs. A part of you hopes he hits his head on the way in. You hide anyway.
It’s a few minutes of waiting in the oppressive summer heat, until Luke emerges from the cabin with his hands full. He looks around, hesitantly calling, “Heathen?” Then again. You move out of your hiding spot and he jogs over to greet you.
“Nice haul,” you comment. There’s an ice pack, cotton pads, a few miscellaneous items. “How’d you get them?”
He smiles widely. “Everyone loves me, heathen. It’s not hard.”
“…So you stole them.”
“Yes, but only because I’m too tired to talk to people and I’m protesting for your sake,” he rattles off. “Now hold this ice pack before it gives me frostbite.”
The two of you make your way down to the docks again. It’s morphed into your usual meeting place, since the waves lapping at the shore mask when Luke gets a little too noisy just to piss you off. (At least that’s what he tells you.)
He’s stashed his little tin in a different tree this time. After he retrieves it he sets everything out like a chef preparing to make a meal out of gauze and rubbing alcohol.
Your head has been throbbing for the past few hours. You’re not proud that you antagonized the wrong Apollo kid and got a shiner for it. You’re less proud that you came to Luke for help. Just like everyone else does.
“Come,” he gestures, tugging at the waistband of your pants. You scoot closer to him and swallow the weight of your pulse when he touches you.
Luke slowly presses the ice pack to your black eye, letting you hold it. “What did you do to earn this, anyway?” He asks, head tilted to the side.
You’re hissing because of the ice, half-consciously shifting into him. “The usual. Spat at him. Made fun of his daddy a little too much. Tripped him so he landed face-first in his offerings.”
“You did not,” Luke laments as he dots alcohol onto a cotton pad.
“You’re allowed to say you’re proud of me, Saint Castellan. I won’t tell. You can be mean.” Your voice drips with irony, and you hope it bothers him. The flex in his jaw gives it away.
“You’re always gonna be meaner,” is all he says back. “This is gonna hurt.”
It’s all the warning he gives before he presses the pad against your lip. The sting envelops you immediately, and your good eye squeezes shut. “Shit, ow!”
“Stop moving your mouth.”
“Fuck,” you swear anyway. Your lip burns so hard you can feel it in your teeth.
Luke holds your jaw with his other hand so you can’t shy away. “I’ll kiss it better,” he teases. “Almost done.”
You roll your eyes, but Luke takes the pad off a few moments later. “Serious question. How are you so awful to people all the time?”
A groan tears through your throat with such force your head tilts back. “Not you too! I don’t need a fucking reason, there is no reason. Why doesn’t anyone get that?”
“I’m not asking why. I’m asking how.”
He’s oddly serious, the caress of his thumb on your cheek far slower. You hate it when people want a reason why you’re like this, just to help them sleep at night. But from the bags lining Luke’s eyes, sleep doesn’t seem to be on his radar.
“I just don’t care,” you admit, shrugging. “I don’t care about any of them. I don’t care about what they can do to me. I don’t care about anything.”
“…What about the Gods?”
It makes you cock your head. “Huh?”
“You wouldn’t care about them, either?”
You think, but only about which words to use. “No,” you decide, “They don’t scare me. They’re nothing. What are they gonna do to me?”
Luke snorts, almost nervously. “Uh, punish you for saying that, for one.”
You turn back to him, ice pack leaving your eye as you gesture. “How? By killing me? Pecking out my eyeballs? Burning me alive? I’m telling you, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. It’s all just nothing to me. I’m fucking unpunishable, I’d like to see them try.”
Huffing, you look back up at the firmament of stars. Luke says nothing.
The grass rustles as he shifts, and his mouth ghosts over the bruise on your eye. “Unpunishable,” he murmurs, like he’s testing it out. Then he places an uncharacteristically gentle kiss just beneath your eye. And another just above. “We’ll see about that.”
You get that feeling again, the unbearable lightness in a place it shouldn’t be. Mixed with the poison lodged in your heart.
Luke kisses you, still so delicate that you wonder if he’s been body-snatched. If anything, your bleeding lip feels soothed against his. His hands cradle your face with no ferocity at all. It seems wrong.
“How do you feel?” He asks after pulling away, dark eyes nebulous and wide. The night usually sharpens his features. Now, they’ve been hushed.
“Um, better,” you reply.
He hums, laying a slow trail of kisses on your jaw. “Did you at least get the other guy?” He asks between kisses. “Like, did you hurt him?”
“Not really,” you divulge, wondering if you should feel shame.
“Why?” He’s made his way to your neck now, nudging your jaw up so he can kiss behind your ear.
“I’m not a fighter.” And, without warning, for a reason you will never, ever be able to explain, your tongue adds, “I’m a killer.”
Your own brows furrow. Luke pauses for a moment, but knocks his nose against your neck. “Guess one of us has to be.”
There’s no more fooling around. No snappy insults, no feverish kisses, no hunger to be satiated. Luke just checks you over a few more times, hides his med kit, and you both get up to sleep. But his hand wraps around your wrist, far less firm than when he dragged you here. “Stay in my bunk, heathen,” he offers. “Leave in the morning.”
You think you’re making a mistake when you agree, but it doesn’t feel like one.
The next day, after you’ve left Luke’s bunk, rumours float around camp that Luke Castellan accidentally butted some Apollo kid in the face with his sword during training. Caused a bloody, broken nose. Luke was very sorry, apologized profusely.
But you know, by the way he takes you behind the stables that night, that he didn’t mean a single damn word.
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#perrie’s fics#rotten to the touch#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan smut#luke castellan pjo#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#charlie bushnell#pjo x reader#luke castellan fic
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Letters to Santa, Part 2: 12 Days of Smut #11
Bucky Barnes x Reader 2-Part Fic
Request/prompt courtesy of @stuckysbike. Read part 1 here.
Warnings: profanity, dirty talk, teasing, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: There is a scene in this that was wholly inspired by one of @littlemiss-yeehaw's latest smutty sketches, check out her blog and comment on the sketch that you think I used! This is a continuation of the request submitted by @stuckysbike, thank you again for submitting it and trusting me to give it a go! I've decided that day 12 will simply be the gift that comes tomorrow (today technically, in less than 24 hours): Needs & Wants Bonus Chapter.
You can’t deny that you look a little bit like a Christmas gift all wrapped up in your short little burgundy bathrobe. You’ve just finished showering and doing your skincare, and you’re flipping off the bathroom light switch when you hear the softest knock at your door. You stand still for a moment, wondering if you actually heard what you think you heard. The only person who ever comes to your door is one of the girls, and even then, they never knock, they simply let themselves in. You hear the knocking sound a second time and your feet begin carrying you away from the bathroom, across your room, and straight to the door. When you pull it open, Bucky stands before you, looking like he has a million things to say but very few words to utilize.
“Bucky?” You say his name like you aren’t even sure it’s him, but obviously it is. His eyes are quick to coast down your figure, taking in the sight of you in that little burgundy robe with the tie around your waist fashioned into a bow. You look like a fucking gift. Someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. The first wish from the list in your dirty letter to Santa flashes through Bucky’s mind as he memorizes every detail about the way you look right now.
“How much did you have to drink tonight?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at you as he finally focuses his gaze on your face. You scrunch up your cheeks and nose in annoyance. You can’t believe he’d have the audacity to knock on your door and ask you something like that.
“Why the hell are you here asking me that?”
“Because if you had a lot to drink, then your letter to Santa ending up underneath my bedroom door might’ve just been a momentary lapse in judgement. But if you didn’t then…” Bucky lets his voice trail off as he studies your expression, looking for any answer to the countless questions he has swirling around in his head.
“My letter? Under your door?” You ask incredulously. You immediately begin backtracking in your mind, remembering how you started cleaning up the kitchen and totally forgot about the letter you left sitting on the coffee table. One of the girls or Sam must’ve grabbed it and slid it under Bucky’s door as some stupid prank. Your face falls as you realize he very well could’ve opened it and read it. “Wait, you didn’t…” When your shocked eyes look into Bucky’s, he almost wishes he hadn’t read it.
“So, you didn’t slide it under my door.” Bucky confirms. Why is there a hint of disappointment in his tone? Are you imagining it? Was he hoping that you had? Wait, why the fuck did he decide to knock on your door? Just to ask how much you had to drink and to find out if you gave him the letter yourself? What would he have done if it really had been you? By the time you pull yourself out of your whirlwind of thoughts, you see Bucky giving you one last look before turning on his heel to head back to his own room. All inhibitions flee as you start moving without thinking. There isn’t one thought left in your mind when you reach out and grab Bucky by the arm, stopping him in his tracks. He tenses up as soon as your hand meets the fabric of the sweatshirt that’s covering his flesh bicep, but he doesn’t pull away from you. Instead, he turns back to face you as your hand falls away from him.
“You read it.” You say softly, not quite sure where your mouth is about to take this unexpected conversation. Bucky nods, his eyes scanning yours for any sort of reaction. “It was a joke letter, just a stupid game Nat wanted us to play.” Bucky nods again, maintaining eye contact with you as you fiddle with the bow at the front of your robe.
“Right, I can’t imagine you’d actually want someone to cum down your chimney.” Your words written on a piece of paper were dirty, but somehow hearing them leave Bucky’s mouth makes them absolutely filthy. You can feel the blush creeping into your cheeks, turning them a soft shade of pink, as you stare up at the man with your lips slightly parted in surprise. A small smirk tugs on the corners of his lips. You don’t quite like how he’s enjoying your surprised reaction, so you decide to try and get a similar reaction out of him, just so you’ll be even.
�� “Why not? It was on my list, wasn’t it? I also asked for three orgasms in one night, if I remember correctly.” Now Bucky’s the one with the parted lips and a raised eyebrow. He probably would’ve even blushed if all of the blood in his body hadn’t rushed straight to his cock. “What was the other thing I asked for?” You can’t remember what else you’d written in the letter, but now you’re sure that Bucky does. Bucky stares at you for a moment, taking in your pink cheeks, your playful gaze, and the way your arms are currently crossed over your chest as you toy with him. He decides to take the leap.
Bucky slowly reaches out with his flesh hand, giving you every opportunity to either swat his hand away or step back and close the door on him, but you don’t. You follow his movement with your eyes, watching as his fingertips first brush over the fabric around the neck of your robe, and then begin to trail down the front of it lightly until he reaches the bow. He grabs one of the ends of the tie, his eyes flitting up to yours before he makes another move. You don’t say a word. You don’t move a muscle. You’re actually holding your breath. So, Bucky continues. He tugs on the end of the tie with just enough force to unravel the bow and loosen your bathrobe right there in the doorway of your bedroom. You’re still fully covered, but one move and the front of it may fall open and reveal your naked body to the man in front of you. Bucky reaches out with both hands now, as he takes one step forward, limiting the space between the two of you to just a few inches. He wraps his fingers around each side of the opening of your robe, holding them in place so nothing is bared to him, but wanting nothing more than to throw it open. His actions suddenly remind you of the forgotten wish on your list: someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. Realization spreads across your face and Bucky gives you a soft smile as your eyes meet his.
“Is this what you asked for?” He questions, rubbing his thumbs over where he holds the fabric of the robe in between his fingertips. You swallow hard and nod slowly. “I know you can use your words, just like you did in the letter.”
Fuck.
“This is one thing.” You answer softly. Bucky could stop here. He could let go of your robe and let you shut the door on him. But the way you’re looking up at him, letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you patiently wait for his next move, it makes it impossible for him to stop after only fulfilling one of your wishes. Besides, he hasn’t even fully unwrapped you. It wouldn’t be fair to you if he stopped now.
So, Bucky lets his instincts take over, throwing his rational mind out the window. He looks into your eyes one last time, and you can tell from the lilt in his brow and the serious expression painted on his face that he’s making sure he has your permission. The slight nod that you give him is all he needs. In one swift movement, he’s pulling you against his chest by the front of your robe. When you practically crash against him, he lets his vibranium hand rise to cup the side of your face. His eyes are the most mesmerizing blue, making it simultaneously hard to look into them yet hard to look away. Bucky can’t stop himself from placing his cool, vibranium thumb over your lips, and then dragging it down until it just barely sits between your parted lips. He wants to see how you’ll respond to his touch.
When you part your lips a little more, Bucky knows he’s done for. He won’t be going back to his room at all tonight, he fears. He watches you so closely as his thumb slides past your lips, slipping into your mouth and rubbing over the surface of your tongue as you wrap your lips around it and suck. Fuck. He wishes he’d done it with his flesh hand so he could feel your mouth. Or maybe it’s best that he used the vibranium hand, because if he felt what his vibranium thumb is experiencing right now, he might’ve ended up wanting you to suck him off, and he doesn’t remember seeing that on your Christmas list.
You let Bucky pull his finger out of your mouth with a soft pop of your lips, watching as lust floods into his gaze. In this exact moment, you just want to thank whoever it was that slipped your letter under his door. You have a feeling they did you the biggest favor.
Just a second after Bucky has removed his thumb from your mouth, you’re turning on your heel and heading back into your bedroom, trusting that he’ll follow you without a word. You hear the door click and then the sound of the lock turning just as you reach the foot of your bed. You’re just about to ask Bucky to finish unwrapping you when he’s suddenly right behind you, letting his hands slide over your hips to pull you against him as he leans down and presses his lips to the side of your neck. His mouth is so distracting that you don’t even notice what he’s doing until your robe begins falling off of your shoulders, coming to pool at your feet on the floor. In Bucky’s head, he’s mentally crossing off the first thing on your list.
“You’ll sit on my face.” Bucky says boldly, moving around you and climbing onto your bed like he’s done it a thousand times before. He positions himself on his back, with his head resting flat on your pillow, and his eyes flitting over to get a look at you. The way his gaze trails all over every inch of your naked body lights a fire inside of you, that you think may only be extinguished by riding an orgasm out on his face. So, you don’t question him or second-guess yourself. You do exactly as he wants, carefully positioning yourself to straddle his face. He was planning to take it slow, figure out what you like and what you don’t like, drag you up the hill to your first orgasm slowly. But as soon as he saw your glistening cunt, hovering mere inches above his face, he couldn’t keep himself from gripping your thighs and pulling you down hard. His tongue made contact with your entrance first, and he dove into it with a fiery passion, first dragging his tongue around it in circles, teasing you effortlessly. When you felt the first dip of his tongue inside you, your hands flew to the wooden headboard, holding onto it so tightly that you worried it might splinter.
“Bucky, oh my god.” You moan, letting your right hand float down to tangle in his hair as he licks a line from your entrance, through your folds, and straight to your clit. When he finally starts licking and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves there, you know you won’t last long like this. Moans and whimpers start falling from your lips freely, spurring Bucky on and encouraging him to hold you in place as he works you closer and closer to the edge. “I’m going to cum.”
Bucky almost laughs against your clit, but he controls himself and continues sucking and swirling his tongue right where you need it most. He almost laughed because of how fucking easy it was to get you on the verge of cumming for him. He knew he was good at this, but he didn’t know you’d be so ready and willing for him to please you. When you go tumbling over the edge, waves of pleasure rock through you so hard that you nearly put all of your weight on Bucky’s face. Truthfully, he would’ve welcomed it, but he also has other plans that he wants to carry out.
As you hover above Bucky, catching your breath and trying to calm your trembling thighs, Bucky places a soft kiss against your clit before sliding his hands up to your waist and helping you move to lay on your back next to him.
“That was number one.” He whispers, crawling over you and pressing his lips against your jawline. He lets the tip of his tongue slide over your cheek teasingly, and when he nears your lips, you can nearly taste yourself on him. He uses his knee to nudge your legs apart while continuing his ministrations along your jaw and neck, drawing soft exhales from you with ease.
“Let me catch my breath first.” You laugh lightly. Bucky’s fingers are already diving between your legs, gently slipping back and forth over your folds as he gathers your wetness and spreads it around.
“That wasn’t something you put on the list, catching your breath after any of the three orgasms.” Bucky points out, focusing the pads of his middle and ring fingers over your already overly-sensitive clit and applying a light pressure. “I think you can handle this.” He coos. Fuck. Your back is already arching, causing your tits to press against his still-clothed chest. You start to wonder why the hell he still has his clothes on, but your train of thought is immediately derailed when you feel his middle finger slip inside of you without a warning. It’s been so long since anyone has done this to you, and even since you’ve taken the time to do it to yourself, so the stretch that you feel gives you a stinging pain that causes you to draw in a sharp breath and tighten around his fingertip. “Oh, you’re so fucking tight. How are you going to be able to take my cock, huh baby?” You aren’t sure what gets the loudest moan out of you, his finger plunging into you as far as he can send it or his words. He plans to fuck you.
“I’ll take it.” You promise, not even thinking about what you’re promising. Bucky chuckles lowly before pulling his finger out of you and shoving it back in, beginning to fuck you with it over and over again.
“You’ll take it.” Bucky agrees, adding a second finger as he looks down into your eyes and watches the way your teeth once again sink into your bottom lip. “You’ll take it if you want that last thing on your list.”
Bucky Barnes promising to cum inside of you is the very last thing you expected to get for Christmas. It’s only a couple of minutes later when he’s thrusting his two fingers in and out of you in such a coordinated manner that you’re seconds from another orgasm. Bucky curling his fingers inside of you is what sends you careening over the edge, your second orgasm crashing in so hard that you reach down and grasp Bucky’s hand, holding it still as you roll your hips, riding your high out on his fingers yourself. He’s in awe of you. He’s in awe of every little movement, every little sound, everything you do as you cum for him.
“That’s number two.” Bucky whispers against your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your smooth skin as you finally release his hand and let him slide his fingers out of you. As soon as your breathing begins to slow back to a normal rate, Bucky is pushing himself off of the bed and pulling his sweatshirt over his head. You prop yourself up on your elbows, taking in the curve of his shoulders, the soft scars where vibranium meets skin, and the heaving of his chest. When he pushes off his sweats and boxers, letting his cock spring free from its confines and finally stand fully on display for you, your mouth falls open. “Remember, you said you’d take it.” Bucky reminds you, wrapping his hand around the impressive length and stroking it slowly as he crawls back over you on the bed. “Turn over.”
Once he has you laying on your stomach, he leans down over you, letting his warm chest press against your bare back. You feel his hard cock resting against your ass as he inhales the sweet scent of your shampoo, closing his eyes and wondering to himself if you’ve always smelled this damn good. The next few seconds are both a blur and seemingly happening in slow motion as Bucky guides you to slide your knees underneath you and raise your ass up for him. Feeling the head of his cock brush against your entrance has you seeing stars, not even from pleasure, but from anticipation and pure adrenaline coursing through your veins.
“Bucky, please.” You moan, pushing your ass against his length, begging for him to fuck you already. He chuckles lowly once again but obliges, rubbing the tip of his cock back and forth through the wetness coating your folds a few more times before finally slotting his cock into you. You feel every inch as it disappears inside you. You feel it move in the slightest every time Bucky so much as takes a breath. He buries himself to the hilt and then stills, his breath fanning across your neck as you bury your face in your pillow. The grunt that rumbles past his lips sends a rush of heat through your body, traveling straight to your cunt, which then flutters around his shaft.
“Oh, fuck, baby.” He groans out, squeezing his eyes shut and dragging his cock out of you slowly. When he thrusts it back in a second later, he can’t bear to stop again. He starts fucking you so hard that you can’t do a damn thing besides moaning out his name and gripping the bedsheets with both hands. It’s a sight Bucky vows never to forget. “This is what you wanted for Christmas, huh? Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes! God, yes, Bucky.” He loves the way you sound when you’re at his mercy like this. He picks up the pace of the snapping of his hips, watching as your knuckles turn nearly as white as the sheets he’s fucking you on.
“That’s it, take my fucking cock just like that.” Never in your wildest dreams could you have conjured up with a dirty talking Bucky Barnes. He’s filthy. He continues thrusting into you, over and over, relishing in the feeling of your pussy pulling him back in every time he tries to pull out. “You’re going to let me cum inside of you, aren’t you? That’s what you want for Christmas.”
“Yes, please. Fuck, don’t pull out.”
“Good girl, that’s it baby.” Just a few more thrusts from Bucky have you fighting to hold back your orgasm, and he can tell. “Don’t fucking keep it from me, let it go.” He demands, gripping your hips and pounding you into the mattress. Your third orgasm of the night begins with his cock fully seated inside of you. He fucks you through it, chasing his own high as he listens to the dirtiest sounds fall from your parted lips. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” He says the words only half a second before he starts filling you up, fucking his cum in as deep as he possibly can.
A couple of minutes later, Bucky is still laying on top of you, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder and neck as you enjoy the warmth and closeness he offers.
“That was number three.” He whispers, letting his lips ghost over your skin.
“Thank you, Santa.”
TAG LIST:
@mrsjoequinn @nixxaswrld @sweettae02 @frombkjar @hellfirebabe @edelweissbarnes @fandomsfeminismandme @missadored @buchi91 @phoenixstark1708 @mayamacall @wickedwitch-99 @sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @thealloveru2 @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @wishingforwonderland @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#mcu#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#12 days of smut
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Even more and more of obvious shit I point out because I want an excuse to rant while not interacting with actual people in real life who also like this show because I'm masking 😍💜💜
BARELY STARTED AND BRO. YOU JUST LET HER DO THAT TO YOU, ME PERSONALLY-
HE'S PETTING KEE-KEE I LOVE HIM SMM
HER HOOVES. I LOVE IT. NOT LIKE THAT, IM JUST A FURRY-
*grabs pen*
ANGRY CHARLIE FOR THE WIN. I LOVE WHEN THE HAPPY CHARACTER GETS ANGSTY (Cough. Luz. Cough).
The people writing fanfics where she gets FURIOUS. Omg. That was something I read. I LOVE MY FELLOW FANFIC WRITERS BUT OH MY- YALL REALLY HAD CHARLIE M A D.
"Uh-"
I love his reaction lmao look at his goofy face.
HER BOW BECAME HORNS (my "redesign" is now 100% worse)
SAD VAGGIE. THE BOW. DROOPY.
Oh and the angel dust fellow back there 🤯
I LOVE ROSIE SO MUCH HUH
Tall.
No explanation needed. <3
PLEASE HELP???
CUTIE PATOOTIE. I LOVE HER SM UGGHHH
CHARLIE HATES OLD PEOPLE COMFIRMED YAY 😍😍💅💅
Hot
That's it.
IN SYNC. I LOVE THIS SONG AND THE ENTIRE SCENE. WHY IS IT RANKED SO LOW WITH SOME OF YALL?? Okay well-
I thought this song was gonna be a Charlie and Vaggie duet- tbh I still preferred that BUT I LOVE CARMILLA SO I KINDA DONT CARE.
BUT I WAS ROBBED OF AN ACTUAL FULL CHAGGIE DUET (REPRISE DOESNT COUNT) IF H*SKERDUST GETS A FULL ONE WHY CAN'T CHAGGIE? *SOB* uhh anyway-
Is that. Like. How she thinks actually 😰
I know there's been a lot of the lack of Vaggie's self-worth, which I wish was explored into more. I just think the Vaggie(3rd) episode just wasn't needed at all if it didn't even have an impact. Don't get me started on that episode, it was rushed, too early to have character arcs already, and overall not needed or even should have existed periodt.
I hope they explore it next season because GOD this woman needs TO LOVE HERSELF. OR ATLEAST CARE ABOUT HERSELF LIKE????
SWEET MAMA PLEASE. TAKE ME IN YOUR WINGS AAAAAAAAA
Charlie, sharing is caring <3
Out of all the people I thought Charlie would vent to I didn't think it would be ROSIE. It's a nice surprise tho I love her <3
bisexuality.
That's it.
HE'S DANCING. ALASTOR IS DANCING. THEY ARE SLAYING BESTIES. THE MAN IS DANCING. HELP.
Season 2 is going to be Charlie in her villain era and Alastor's reputation era 😍
I LOVE VAGGIE'S FACE. PRECIOUS BABY UGHH... THEN THE WINGS REPLACE THE BOW AND DROOP UGGHH I HOPE IN SEASON 2 WE SEE MORE OF HER WINGS. OR CUT HER HAIR SHORT SO WE CAN HAVE IT ALL THE TIME. Also so Husk and Vaggie can bond over both having wings. Sorry I love their potential friendship so much. AND LUCIFER AND VAGGIE TOO!! BOTH BEING FALLEN ANGELS OMG. UGH THE POTENTIAL OF VAGGIE'S RELATIONSHIPS WITH NOT JUST CHARLIE ARE SO GOOD AND I HAVE BEEN ROBBED OF SEEING HER AS AN ACTUALLY MORE FLESHED OUT CHARACTER. I AM SCREAMING AAAAAAAA.
I can't say how much I love them. It's too much. I cant- yay the teaser image before the show came out <3 they are so fucking adorable. UGH SOME1 END ME
Charlie loves the wings hehehe. Vaggie looks nervous about it. It's probably a reminder to her about when she used to be an exterminator. The healing from everything will take a long time but hopefully Charlie will be there for her the entire time. And vice versa
Ayo- 😰
CHARLIE. T H E PRECIOUS BABY.
Uh next one tomorrow cuz yeah 🤯
#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel vaggie#hazbin charlie#hazbin vaggie#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel sir pentious#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel niffty#chaggie#rainbowmoth#varlie#vaggie x charlie#charlie x vaggie#charlie morningstar#vaggatha
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i should hate u !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them using shady captions to communicate and the media and fans being confused.
or
for when you loved them too much. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
social media au // max verstappen x fem!reader
sequel - today and tomorrow and every day after that ⋆·˚ ༘ *
warnings - language
author's note - hello!!! i really hope u like this <3 i was initially gonna do daniel ricciardo one first but i already had 1/2 of this done so i just decided to post this :) thank u sm for reading <3 i love u
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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f1news y/n y/l/n and max verstappen called it quits almost a month ago and it seems like they didn't end on good terms at all. the singer, at her london show last night, threw shade at her ex-boyfriend, saying and we quote, "the next song wouldn't have been possible without this one dude who inspired it obviously. so — here's 'i should hate you'. spoiler alert, i do. thank you!" the reason for the split is still unknown but sources who claim to be close to the pair said that 'it was bound to happen — with their different goals and plans for the future," seemingly referring to the talks that y/l/n wanted to get married and verstappen didn't. both of them have yet to comment on the situation. for more details, click on the link in our bio.
278 comments
username WOAH
username pause.
username ahahahahaha say what.
username oh my god 💀💀💀
username NOT HER CONFIRMING THAT I SHOULD HATE YOU IS ABT MAX
username no bc the way her voice cracked so many times in between the songs like girlie is angry AND hurt
username OH MY GOD
username i genuinely have no words
username omg the photos are NOT of her shading max. it's her laughing at a fan who yelled "you're the baddest bitch of all baddest bitches" at her
-> username YEAH LIKE SHE WAS SO CLOSE TO CRYING WHEN SHE SANG ISHY
username my delusional ass thinking they ended on good terms 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username nah it's so champagne problems and you're losing me kinda thing i can't handle this whatcthe fucj
username OH WHATCTHEBFUCJ
username me getting the big guns out to defend her AND max with my LIFE
username still processing their breakup give me a year to digest this information
username STOP WHAT THE FUCK
username my parents ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️
username no bc she's genuinely such a sweet person so if she said this max must've done something 😭😭😭😭😭
-> username STOP NO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username can't believe she's saying this about a dude for whom she wrote "feels like" for like wow.
username I WAS AT THAT SHOW AND SHE LOOKED SO SAD AFTER SHE SAID THIS I FELT SO BAD
-> username SHE ALSO STARTED CRYING WHEN SHE FINISHED SINGING I MISS U IM SORRY AND ZARA (HER LEAD GUITARIST) HAD TO RUN AND CONSOLE HER
-> username AND SHE SAID THAT THE LAST MONTH HAS BEEN HARD ON HER AND SHE APOLOGIZED IF THE SHOW WASN'T AS GOOD AS THE OTHERS
-> username NAH MOTHER ATE AS ALWAYS
username y'all saying this but not the fact that she ALSO said "in another life we would've worked but im grateful for everything i had because for a moment you were mine"
-> username MY HEART JUST BROKE WHATCTHEBFUCK
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 799,155 others
maxverstappen1 i know i say that i am better now, spoiler alert, i am
8,926 comments
username the way my jaw dropped
username THE PICTURES
username GODDAMN
username someone take away y/n's phone before she hits back 💀💀💀
-> username the way i know that she would absolutely destroy him
username NOT THE PHOTOS OMG
danielricciardo spoiler alert, also a liar
-> maxverstappen1 you promised you wouldn't snitch
username he definitely cried while posting this idc
username max babe it's okay to admit that u miss ur wifey bc same 💔💔💔
-> username "wifey" girl he didn't even wanna marry her
-> username not another word.
username funny haha 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 im crying 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 now get back with mom.
landonorris no you're not
-> maxverstappen1 i will block you
username lando and daniel exposing max 💀💀💀
username no bc he probably cries whenever he remembers that he fumbled a baddie like y/n
username "it's all better with you ❤️"
-> username i could've gone along with my day without seeing that just saying
-> username delete that RIGHT NOW before i start crying
username missing max simping for y/n like ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️
charles_leclerc i swear i can hear you crying from my hotel room
-> maxverstappen1 WE'RE NOT EVEN IN THE SAME HOTEL
username the way im SO sure he heard y/n saying that she hates him and that was the moment he gave up
-> username nah bc he was one of the "my girl's mad at me i hope i die" kinda guys
-> username wonder how he's surviving this tbh
username I CAN'T TAKE THIS SERIOUS IM SORRY THE POST IS JUST TOO FUNNY
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by selenagomez, carmenmmundt, dualipa and 2,246,826 others
yourusername i hate you lol
12,628 comments
username HELP
username she could only get this much in before her manager took away her phone ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
*liked by yourusername*
username no bc girl had a lot to say she's just trying to keep it cute
*liked by yourusername*
username the way i know y/n FOUGHT for the right to post this caption
username this is MILD bc i know y/n can be ruthless 😭😭😭😭😭😭
landonorris "in love" alright.
-> yourusername IT'S FOR THE AESTHETIC
username mother and father are fighting i can't take this what tye fyxk
username 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username mother slays everyday just saying
username no bc if y/n ever said ihy to me i would give up just a thought
lilymhe pretty bitch
-> yourusername u sure that's not u?????
username i REALLY hope she's at the next gp
-> username no bc the way max and her meeting would definitely be more entertaining than the race itself
username NOT THE SONG LYRICS WHAT HAVE U PLANNED
-> username oh fuck that broke my heart what the fuck
username missing my man max in the comments section being a whipped bitch so bad ://////
carmenmmundt can't wait to see you darling 🤍
-> yourusername counting down the seconds omg i missed u!!!!!!
username y/n's manager has her on lockdown i can tell 💀💀💀
-> username with what she said at her last show i wouldn't be surprised
landonorris the post has reached the target and the target is currently eating ice cream while singing your songs
-> yourusername OH OKAY
-> yourusername good to know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
username she's so pretty it's not fair wtf
username the caption omg
-> username it's SO mild compared to what i was expecting tbh 💀
username slay
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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maxverstappen1 it's all better now
comments are disabled for this post
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 2,829,626 others
yourusername and i swear to god i'd kill you if i loved you a less hard
13,728 comments
username SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
username OH MY GOD
username IS THAT MAX WHATCTHEBFUCK
username NOT Y/N SOFT LAUNCHING HER EX BOYFRIEND
username GIRL 😭😭😭😭 get up
username this is INSANE
username MOTHER?????? WHAT IS THIS??????
danielricciardo the most stressful week of my life if we're being for real
-> yourusername u can send m*x the therapy bill
-> maxverstappen1 don't. i did not agree to that.
username HER SONG LYRICS OH MY GOD
username SHE WROTE THIS SONG FOR MAX 😭😭😭😭😭😭
username okay but like. are we SURE that's max?????
-> username i simply refuse to believe that it's someone else so yes. that IS in fact max.
username OKAYYYYYYY
username did NOT see this coming in a thousand years
username obviously VERY happy for them but y/n censoring max's name is so fucking hilarious like
-> yourusername babe it's m*x
-> username my bad ur absolutely right it's m*x
-> maxverstappen1 this is bullying
username DID HE PUT A RING ON IT WHATXTHEBFUCK
-> username NO BC THAT WOULD MAKE SM SENSE
username so i lost SLEEP over nothing????????
maxverstappen1 nice pants
-> yourusername thanks they would look better on ur floor
-> maxverstappen1 say less
-> username i think i just died whatcthebfuxk
-> username oh they're GOOD now
username imagine they just drop engagement photos out of the blue then what.
-> yourusername imagine lol
-> username WHAT DOES THIS MEAN
username i just know y/n's eating up every moment of this chaos
-> maxverstappen1 demons thrive in chaos so
-> yourusername well! it was nice to reconcile for a couple days, goodbye now.
username im crying whayctrhbfcuk
landonorris mother father
-> yourusername child
-> maxverstappen1 no
-> username ah yes the four family members mother father child and no
username THE HEART THE EVERYTHING THEM
username they STILL don't follow eachother LMFAO
#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#social media au#fake instagram imagines#max verstappen blurb#max verstappen x fem!reader#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagines#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen instagram au#max verstappen angst#max verstappen fluff
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Bruce rescuing a reader who can shapeshift into a bat when scared, like he can hardly control it at first, he's the product of some experiment and of course Bruce has to take him in. So now Bruce finds himself with a small little bat snuggling into the crook of his neck at night because reader has a nightmare
Aw, that's adorable. Also, some cartoon bats
Summary: (Y/N) is a cute bat who can't really control it.
Warnings: human experiments, shapeshifting... Nothing too detailed.
Bruce sighed quietly as he was sitting in a Justice League meeting. He knew that human experiments will always be persistent, but they had to eradicate it. It was almost like a plague at this point and he didn't like it in the slightest.
" We don't like it either Bruce. " Wonder Woman said from the opposite side of the desk. Bruce just looked at the location that was put on the hologram screen. The lab in America, but somewhere deep in the mountains. Probably somewhere underground... If this is something that the government funds, Bruce will lose his mind.
Is he crazy enough to dress a Bat and fight criminals, assassins and God knows what else? Yes. But the government? Eh. Sort of. If Tim hears about this, he will also flip the lid. Why? Because he can finally prove some conspiracies that circulate around the government. God knows Tim didn't sleep for days, trying to prove a single theory.
Bruce lost count of having to sedate Tim just to force his ass to bed and to sleep for at least, at least, 7 hours in a single night. Not chopped up during the day, just one single damn night. Just goddamn one.
" I would like to say that Red Robin cannot know about this. " Bruce stated, just looking at the screen.
" Why can't he know about this? " Green Lantern asked.
" Because then you will sedate Red Robin, just to sleep. "
Green Lantern look at him in shock. " I beg you pardon? "
" Yup. He refuses to sleep. Sedation was the last step. " Bruce gave a vague explanation and Green Lantern decided to leave it alone. He won't question Bruce in the slightest. He won't get an answer anyway.
" So when do we depart for this mission? " Bruce asked, waiting patiently for Superman to give him an answer.
" We are going tomorrow. According to the intel, there will be resistance, so stealth is very important. " Superman said.
" So that means one of you will mess up. Stealth is something everyone in this room lacks. " Bruce stated with a dry tone and Flash wanted to argue, but knew it was true.
Stealth was something that they all lacked.
" Either way, the goal of this mission is to get information and save people who might be in there. " Superman said.
" If there will be there. " Bruce said in his ominous tone, eyes darkening at the mere thought of it. Superman knew exactly what he meant.
Killing them to cover their tracks.
" Well, I'll hold out hope that they will be alive. " Superman said, still trying to be positive, but Bruce knew it was a low chance that anyone was even alive.
But hey, you never know.
The fight in the lab was fucking tedious. Turns out, Lex Luthor created this lab. Tim is really going to have a fucking field day with this. Bruce shook his head as he made his way down to the holding cells of the League.
They managed to find one person who was alive and that was just in the nick of time. Bruce managed to take a guard down quickly and he was shocked to find a hysterical bat, flying around the lab cell before landing in his arms.
Then the said bat shifted into a human and then back into a bat. It was fun to say the least. But Bruce had no time to waste back then. He took the man and just ran with a lone survivors, while others were busy fighting.
In the end, he had to sedate them man while in human form because everything was triggering the shifting. It was to make the fly back to the League headquarters. After an hour or so, everything was quiet and lab was secured.
They finally have a case against Lex Luthor. Thank God. Bruce still held (Y/N) in his arms while waiting for the others to come. The fly back was smooth and quiet. Everyone was tired beyond belief and in no mood to talk.
Once landing at the HQ, Bruce took the man to a holding cell where doctors were waiting. Bruce called Tim and told him to get to the Batcave as soon as possible. Tim sounded exhausted, but when Lex was mentioned, he was wide awake all of a sudden.
Bruce quickly used the zeta tubes to get to the Batcave. Tim was waiting and Bruce gave him an USB stick. After explaining the situation to Tim, Bruce took a quick shower while Alfred cleaned up the suit.
It was nice and refreshing. Besides, (Y/N) will be out for a few hours anyway. Bruce finished the shower and got into a clean suit that Alfred had ever so cleaned.
" Thank you very much Alfred. " Bruce thanked him as he put on his suit.
" No problem master Bruce. I overheard you conversation with master Tim. Is there really a lone survivor? " Alfred asked and Bruce nodded.
" Yup. He can shapeshift into a bat. " Bruce said and Alfred chuckled at that.
" Batman saves a little bat. How poetic. " Alfred noted, chuckling quietly.
" Yup. I'll go back now and wait for him to wake up to talk to him to see what we can do. " Bruce explained and yawned.
" I see... Is Lex Luthor really the founder of the lab? " Alfred inquired and Bruce nodded as he took the cowl in his hands.
" Yes he is. We finally have a case against him. " Bruce said proudly.
" Is that why master Tim is currently happy? " Alfred asked, glancing at his grandson, who was on the batcomputer, just typing away happily, a cup of coffee near.
" The moment he is done, please sedate him. " Bruce whispered and Alfred chuckled.
" Already ahead of you master Bruce. " Alfred whispered back and Bruce nodded as he put his cowl back on.
And the rest was history. Bruce learned that the little bat's name was (Y/N) and Bruce said that he would take him in. Of course Bruce would take the little bat in. They boys had so much fun with (Y/N) watching him shift.
But one thing that they recognized was the fact that (Y/N) couldn't control his shifting. If he got too scared, he would shift. Too anxious? You have a little bat on your hands.
Soon enough, Bruce fell in love and moved him into his bedroom so they could share a bed. Bruce was more than happy and so was (Y/N). But (Y/N), more often then not, had nightmares from his time in the lab.
And that's why (Y/N) was currently a little bat, moving closer to Bruce's neck. It wasn't to take a bite, it was to snuggle into it. Bruce smile, facing the little bat, but eyes were still closed. (Y/N) snuggled closer, folding himself in a ball and just sighing quietly.
Bruce smiled more as the feeling of his neck being tickled.
" A nightmare? " Bruce asked quietly and (Y/N) just gave a little chirp in return. Bruce gently patted (Y/N) before falling asleep again. This was going to be something very nice in the long run and Bruce couldn't wait.
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Can we have a smut of stalker Jason with somnophilia and crazy to eat pussy? Plsss
I mean, Jason is a natural fucking pussy eater.
AND I'M HAPPY TO HAVE PLACED YOUR FIRST RESQUET!!
Can I be the 💦 anon? To u know that is me
Too Much to Take (18+)
Jason Todd x Reader
Tags: Smut, stalker!jason todd, possessive!jason todd
Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, somnophilia, stalking, dubcon, guns, drugs, little to no aftercare.
Notes: hi babes!! I’m so so sorry this took so long, a bear ate my phone. My beautiful 💦 your request is much appreciated. I know it’s unrealistic that the reader never wakes up but I have nevER EVER BEEN HAPPIER.
The cool, night breeze of Bludhaven blew the white chiffon curtains your mother had gotten you in the wind. Across from your bed sat a gorgeous, kingly armchair where you loved to sit and read. Your apartment was carefully decorated by your artful hands, each piece put perfectly in its place. When you got home everyday, you knew you would be returning to a safe, cozy home full of memories and comfort items. Everything was just how it should be.
That’s why the man standing in your apartment was so out of place.
You were asleep, of course. Knocked out after a long day running errands. Your bed had welcomed you warmly, and you couldn’t resist cracking open your window just a little bit, wanting to savour the start of spring.
You knew the automatic danger that came with living in Bludhaven, but you’d saved up enough to move to a nicer area, and your apartment was on the 8th floor of your building. Surely, nobody would bother risking the fall.
Surely.
It had been three days since Jason had first saw you. Three days too long since he’d seen you in person. He’d watched you nearly every minute of the last 72 hours, consuming every ounce of information he could find about you and your life.
His shift watching over Bludhaven ended tomorrow, when Dick would be returning from wherever he went. So, he only had around a day left of viable excuse to be near you. After that, finding a reason to be in Bludhaven even longer would be his main priority. It was clear that he’d already be wherever you were. The thought of not being able to reach you was enough to shatter what little was left of his soul.
No, no, there was no going back now.
And so, Jason found himself perched on the rooftop across from your building, the endless Bludhaven rain pelting across his broad shoulders.
He spent the first few moments watching you carry out your night routine. It was all things many people in Bludhaven overlooked, or dropped as soon as their lives were overtaken by the chaos in the city. Somehow, you’d managed to maintain a semblance of a normal life even while being surrounded by shootings and drug runs.
He stayed still, hovering over your apartment like a cloud of death, his gaze never breaking to stray to anything else but you. He watched you make dinner, he watched you tidy up, he watched you get ready for bed. All of it was as fascinating to him as everything he’d seen when he researched your background.
All the little habits you did. The way you fiddled with the timer on the stove while you waited for the food, the way you danced to your music while you did dishes, the way you preferred an endless heap of pillows on your bed. Every little quirk he watched served to drill your presence deeper into his being. You were exactly what he needed.
So pure.
Innocent enough to leave your bedroom window open in the middle of a crime surge in the only city worse than Gotham.
It gave Jason the perfect opportunity to watch you sleep, and the perfect opportunity to survey your apartment for places to set up cameras. He’d need to make sure that he had every inch of the place covered so he could watch you at all times. The last thing Jason wanted was for some criminal or other creep to breathe the same air as you.
Oh, how cute.
He looked on as you settled into bed, reaching over to your nightstand to pat the head of a tiny giraffe plushy, as if it would stand guard and protect you from all the dangers in the world. You didn’t need a stupid plushie. You had him now.
But what if you needed him and he wasn’t there? What if you left your window open every night and someone with worse intentions was there to take advantage of it? He needed to be there to protect you, to keep away all the dangers and make sure you lived like a princess. It could happen tonight if Jason wasn’t careful. He couldn’t have that.
Wind blew the curtains in your window aside, as if the world was parting the barriers that lay between you. He was just going to make sure that nobody who was less well meaning than him would take a chance to hurt you.
With the speed of years and years of training, Jason hopped from rooftop to rooftop, as quiet as a panther stalking its prey. But Jason wasn’t stalking you. No, he was helping you, making sure you were safe.
Landing on your fire escape balcony without a sound, Jason stood motionless as he peered into your bedroom, his eyes locked on your sleeping form.
You were like an angel in his eyes. Something clean and untouched. Something that he could have all to himself now that he’d found you. Jason wasn’t worried about tainting you with his red-stained hands, no, you were saving him. You had saved him.
He took the time to study your bedroom, burning each item of decor into his mind. There were so many perfect spots to put cameras, and of course, he’d brought some with him just in case. They were small, tech he had ‘borrowed’ from Bruce’s generous stockpile in the safe house he was staying at.
He could have them placed and synced back up with his computer in less than five minutes. It would be so easy he wouldn’t even wake you.
And Jason didn’t want to wake you. It wasn’t just the fact that he felt you looked so peaceful sleeping, something he would hate to disturb, it was that he wasn’t ready.
If you knew who he was, how could he guarantee your safety? Not to mention the fact that you might even try to run from him.
Like hell.
So, Jason found himself pushing the window you’d cracked open further, till he could just slip inside. Landing on the balls of his feet as he’d been trained to do a hundred times before, his presence was barely audible.
Just being in the same room as you felt like he was drunk and more alert than ever all at once. In the back of his mind, a sour voice told him to stop, to let this be the farthest he went and leave before things got out of hand. God forbid Bruce found out. But he pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came.
Taking his time, he walked slowly around your bedroom, his eyes soaking in everything that was just you. It was impossible to resist purusing your things as he came to your dresser. Trailing his fingers across all the little decorations you had, he closed his eyes, imagining he was touching your skin instead.
He couldn’t resist opening the drawers, and nearly sank to his knees when he saw that the first one he opened was full of your panties and bras. His mask suddenly felt constricting, and he immediately noticed his breaths pick up.
“Jesus Christ.” He huffed out in a sharp breath, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Looking back over at you sleeping in the bed, it was like he had the devil on both shoulders. Without thinking long enough to regret it, he reached for the prettiest pair, pocketing it so quickly it may as well had never been there.
Jason let out a heavy sigh, but continued placing cameras in places nobody but him would think to check. He’d have to come back later to do the rest of the apartment.
After just watching you sleep for what felt like far too little time, Jason finally willed himself to turn and leave. Every fibre of his being was screaming in protest. The thought of getting to be this close to you, only to have it ripped away, was almost too much to bear. Still, he made his way back to your window. That’s when he heard it.
The sound of rustling sheets filled Jason’s expertly trained ears and his gaze snapped to the noise instantly as he froze in place, halfway out your window.
Dear god.
Where you had been snuggled cutely in your blankets, you had kicked them off to leave your lower half exposed.
Your gorgeous legs lay splayed across your bed, long and elegant. All of his senses were dialled in on the singular sight of you. His cock thrummed with heat almost instantly, his pants stretched out by his girth as his gazed strayed further.
You were wearing a pair of flimsy sleep shorts and a shirt that was far too big for you and he’d be damned if he said it wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
With an amount of restraint he didn’t think he possessed, Jason bit his tongue, practically salivating at the sight of you. He rested his head against the window frame, halfway out of your apartment, halfway towards making a very bad decision.
He should leave. He should leave and never come back and leave you alone and stop. But he couldn’t.
Fuck it.
Refusing to spend any more time not having you, Jason pulled himself back through your window, prowling towards your bed.
He just stood there for a while like he had already, staring at the delicious curve of your ass and feeling his cock harden in his pants. If he was already going to hell for this then he would take his time savouring his sins.
But he could only hold himself back for so long.
With a quiet groan, Jason crept nearer to your side, pulling away the rest of the blankets as carefully as he could. It wasn’t that important for him to see all of you just yet. Not only was his mind only focused on one thing, but he knew he had all the time in the world to study every part of you. You were his after all.
Now that your lower half was exposed to the cool spring air, there was only one barrier keeping Jason from taking what was holding his entire soul. He prayed you were a heavy sleeper, and lowered himself to his stomach on the bed. Propped up on his elbows, there were only a few inches separating him from the only thing he wanted.
Thank god for sleep shorts.
In the back of his mind, he was already adding buying you something less revealing to his list of things to do, not wanting anyone to see you but him. But that could wait.
Taking off his mask and placing it on the floor beside your bed, he bit his tongue and gently hooked his fingers underneath your sleep shorts, pulling them to the side. All at once the breath left his lungs and he felt like his world was being tipped upside down. You didn’t wear any panties to bed.
Jason had to close his eyes for a moment in order to control his urge to wake you up and ravish you. When he opened them again, they flickered green and he zeroed in on what was making his mouth water.
Your pretty little pussy.
It was a miracle he’d gotten this far to be honest, but you didn’t seem to stir for anything. Thanking whatever force was allowing him this one pleasure, he moved closer to you and began taking what he wanted so desperately.
The moment his mouth met your pussy he nearly came in his pants.
Stopping for a second, he waited for any sign you were awake, his heart pounding in his ears. But you were still silent. Jason took this as his go ahead, but he had no intentions of stopping anyway.
He peppered kisses along your pussy, drunk on the softness of your skin and the taste of you on his lips. Everything in him was bursting with thrill, and he could barely stop himself from rutting against your bed to get some much needed friction. He wasn’t in his mind anymore, the only thing keeping him tethered to the planet was your sweet little cunt.
You began to breathe a little heavier in your sleep, your soft breathing quickly getting deeper. But Jason didn’t stop.
He couldn’t.
Not when you tasted so divine, not when your skin felt like heaven on his tounge. He moved to your clit now, his whole face practically pressed into your pussy. If he was gonna go out between your legs, it was a death he would gladly take.
He sucked on your clit, alternating between swirling his tounge around it in tight little circles and sloppily eating you out. It was getting harder and harder for Jason to control the level of noise he was making. His groans and low, rumbling growls began to fill the room. It was just you. Only you in his mind, his heart, and his soul.
Oh, fuck.
You were making these cute little noises now. Little breathy whimpers and whines were leaving your lips. With each sound that reached his ears, he felt a bit more of his control slipping.
He hadn’t even noticed he was fucking you with two fingers until you began to squirm. All at once he halted all his movement, waiting for his fun to end, but your eyes never opened. This would all just be a really good dream for you. He almost chuckled at the idea.
Certain you’d stay asleep, he buried his face in your pussy, eating you like a man starved. His fingers pumped in and out of your now slick cunt, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted your sweetness on his tongue.
But it wasn’t enough. He needed more.
He needed to make you cum. He needed to be the one, the only one, bringing you pleasure. He wanted to feel your cum running down his face. He wanted to taste you on his tongue three days from now.
There was no point trying to contain himself anymore. He’d already jumped off the edge a long time ago. Jason pumped a third finger into you, allowing himself to grind his raging cock against your bed. The noises you were making were getting louder, and you were beginning to writhe in your sheets every time he slammed his fingers into you. He knew he’d have to be quick, but honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take.
Taking your clit in between his teeth, he grazed the sensitive skin just enough to have you even wetter for him. Jason was desperate. All his cares, all his worries had been replace by an unending, carnal urge for you.
Only you.
He pumped his fingers faster, driving them in and out while he ate you like a man possessed. Then, he got to experience what was easily the best thing that ever happened to him.
Without warning, your needy whimpers turned into one long, high pitched whine, and your sweetness burst into Jason’s mouth. He felt like he died all over again, cumming in his pants as he groaned into your pussy, shuddering. Never once did his fingers stop, only slowing to allow himself to lap up all of your juices.
The world was quiet for a moment as he stayed hooked on your cunt, his eyes closed in bliss.
But he couldn’t stay forever.
With an insane amount of difficulty, Jason placed one more kiss on your clit, and pulled your shorts back in place. His own underwear would be ruined, and he would definitely have to wash his pants, but he couldn't have given less of a shit.
Once he was sure you’d stay asleep, he moved off the bed, coming to stand beside your now flushed face. Jason didn’t know what was worse, having to leave after tasting the best thing ever, or the fact that you’d only remember this as a dream.
Not wanting to think about anything but how full his heart felt, he leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to your cheek.
“Sweet dreams, baby. You’re mine.” He whispered softly, as if you could hear him, and brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear.
Taking one last glance at your pretty face, he turned and crept his way out of your apartment, leaving the way he came, through the window.
He made sure to close it.
It was clear to Jason that he should be feeling shame, remorse or disgust with himself for what he just did, but the only thing on his mind was how he wanted you awake for next time. And there would be a next time.
When you awoke that morning, and the haze of sleep cleared from your mind, your focus instantly went to the wetness between your thighs. You blushed as vague memories of a rather nice dream sprung to the forefront of your thoughts.
Shaking your head, you crawled out of bed, yawning, when your eyes caught on a slightly confusing sight.
“Didn’t I leave that open?”
#oneshot#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd smut#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd#red hood x reader#red hood#red hood x you#red hood x y/n
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no more waiting
for @steddielovemonth day four prompt ‘love is being willing to wait for them’
a fix-it for these: steve pov | eddie pov
rated m | 1,094 words | cw: post breakup, implied sexual content | tags: getting back together, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining
🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶
Steve should’ve called him Tuesday when the news broke.
And then he should’ve called him Wednesday when he ran into Wayne at the store and he said Eddie was coming home for a bit.
By the time Thursday afternoon came around, he didn’t need to call him. He was standing at Steve’s front door.
“Eddie.”
“Steve.”
It was stilted, more awkward than they’d ever been, even when they “broke up.”
“You just get into town?” Steve asked as if he didn’t know.
“Yeah,” Eddie answered as if he didn’t already find out that Wayne had told Steve his exact travel plans.
“You wanna come in?” Steve asked like he’d die if Eddie said no.
“Yeah, please.” Eddie replied, just short of begging.
Eddie knew where to go, knew how to act like this was his home just like he had for nearly a year before leaving. Before Steve insisted he leave.
He settled on the couch, leaving room for Steve to sit close, but not touching.
Touching would be too much, too painful.
“You saw?” He finally asked, picking at the hole in his jeans.
“Yeah.” Steve reached over to pull Eddie’s fingers away from the string hanging off his pants. He didn’t let go as he spoke. “I’m proud of you.”
Eddie’s eyes bounced between his own, searching for the hint of a lie, jealousy, anything that might give him an excuse to stay away. But as he expected, as he hoped, none of that was in Steve’s eyes.
“It doesn’t mean shit to me,” Eddie admitted.
Steve’s brows furrowed in confusion, his body tensing at the unexpected hostility in Eddie’s tone.
“None of it means a fucking thing to me without you.”
“Eds-“
“I know what we said, I know. But I can’t do it anymore. The first person I wanted to call was you. The first thing I wanted to do was fuck you into the mattress of my bunk on the bus. There’s no world where I can be a rock star without you standing there with me.” Eddie looked down at their joined hands. “I don’t care what it means for me. I don’t care what it means for the band. I don’t care if I have to give it all up tomorrow. I just want you.”
"I won't let you give it up, not now. You finally made it, Eds," Steve pulled one hand away to wipe at his eyes, equal parts happy to hear that Eddie still wanted him and sad that he couldn't have him. "I can't let you live to regret me. I couldn't wake up one day knowing that you blame me for keeping you back."
"Then come with me! Don't keep me back!" Eddie was crying as much as Steve, eyes red like he'd already been crying before he got to Steve's house. "You're keeping yourself back. What are you gonna do when the kids go? They don't wanna stay here, so they'll spread out and you'll still be here. You'll have wasted years being here for them. What about being there for you? What about letting them be there for each other and calling them up once in a while like I do? Like Robin and Nancy do? You don't owe anyone here anything, especially not if it costs you your happiness."
Steve had heard it all before from everyone, even Dustin, even Hopper, but it never really sunk in. It wasn't really now, either, but he was at least trying to think through it.
It made sense, but it always had made sense. It's just that what made the most sense was being here for the people who needed him.
"Do you really think those kids would be upset if you tried to be happy? Do you think they would rather you stay here and be miserable?"
"No." That answer was easy. The kids would never want him to be miserable. Nobody in their group would.
"Then be happy, Stevie. Be happy with me. I'd do anything to keep you happy," Eddie begged, lifting his hands to kiss his knuckles. "I want you to do this with me. I wanna sing to you every night, sweetheart."
"What if you get tired of singing to me every night?"
Eddie shook his head, smiling fondly at the man in front of him. "I can't imagine a life where I'd ever get tired of seeing the way your cheeks turn pink and you get that goofy smile on your face when I look at you from the stage. But if it did, then you can come right back here or go to Robin or anyone, because everyone loves you and wants the best for you."
Steve knew that, always had known that deep down.
"So the guys are just cool with me tagging along?"
"The guys will be thrilled to not have me pouting 22 hours of the day. They'll welcome you with open arms."
Now was when they could seal it with a kiss, maybe even let themselves get carried away, strip off their clothes, hurry through months of yearning in a few minutes. They could take it to the bedroom, or the shower, or the floor if they wanted to risk a sore back. They could leave marks that would take days to fade, and laugh about the way Eddie always, always makes the same whimpering noise when he gets inside Steve. They could, but they don't.
Steve leans his head against Eddie's shoulder and Eddie cups the back of his head, lets his fingers twist in his hair. They both let out a sob, recognition of how much they missed each other, how stupid they were for thinking being apart was better for either of them, finally sinking in.
"I'm sorry." Steve breathed against Eddie's neck, shaky and unsure.
"I'm sorry, too."
They stayed curled up on the couch together for hours, until Dustin showed up yelling about Steve not answering his phone. They hadn't even heard it ring, so wrapped up in their own bubble.
Eddie shooed him away, told him they'd be by to see him later, and surprisingly, Dustin left.
Only then did they manage to get up and go to Steve's bedroom, undressing as they went, lips never far from skin, as they got reacquainted with the taste and feel of each other.
Later ended up being the next morning, but luckily, Dustin didn't say a damn word when they both showed up at his door holding hands and beaming more at each other than at him.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddielovemonth#drabble#post breakup#getting back together#angst with a happy ending#mutual pining
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ OH, BABYDOLL.
↳ masterlist!
↳ summary: in which a night of drunken celebration between matt and his best friend turns into something more, something they both yearned for.
↳ pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
↳ warnings: swearing, alcoholic consumption, making out, use of y/n, slightly suggestive (?) touching, pet name [doll], drunk confessions.
↳ important things to note: finally a dominic fike inspired fic!
THIRD PERSON POV
everyone has someone in their life that they’ll never really get over, whether it be an ex friend, or an ex lover, there’s always going to be lingering feelings for that person. for matt, it was his best friend.
at first he figured that he was only attracted to her physically and sexually because he was pent up. so the day he noticed that he kept checking her out, he sent a text to an ex hookup and got the job done. but the next day, he was backing to wanting her in such an animalistic and carnal way that it was hard to be around without all the blood rushing from his head to somewhere else.
but the longer his attraction went on, the more confused he ended up. he searched for her in every room, after every joke he told in hopes that he’d find her laughing. he began immediately seeking her the moment he’d step into the house after a rough day.
he realized it became something more when he found himself driving to her apartment complex without prior announcement the moment he received good news about his yesterday’s problem project.
he realized it became something more when he crafted journals for his own personal brand based off the journal she carried with her everywhere.
and he realized that he’s never really wanted anyone the way he’s wanted her, and once that was revealed to him, he tried to move on. he dated girls far and few in between, and none of them never really ignited the flame that lay dormant in the pit of his stomach the way y/n did. other girls never stirred up the butterflies that lay peaceful in his chest every time he was away from her.
he realized that he was fucked. he loved her and there no changing that.
so when he began noticing that you seemed so different after starting your new assistant job, he begged you to quit. it changed you into a dull shell of the lively, bright, and happy person you were. he really believed that it had caused you to lose that sparkle in your personality that made you everything he loved, and honestly he loved you regardless, he just missed your bubbly personality. he had noticed that even your eyes seemed dull.
so when you called him later in the day, muttering something along the lines of “i didn’t think the day would come but it did and i don’t have to get up at nearly five in the morning tomorrow!” he couldn’t fully make out the words because of how jumbled you become whenever you’re excited.
“doll, you’re getting all jumbled again, can you repeat that?” he hummed, the pet name you knew all too well that still managed to have the tips of your ears turning pink and hot slipping from his lips, sounding sickeningly sweet. he started calling you doll not too long after you guys met, every time he picked you up when he asked to hangout, you’d come out singing babydoll by dominic fike because it was a song you were obsessed with, but the real reason behind was the night you guys met at some party, you were wearing a cropped raglan style baby tee that read babydoll in the iconic bratz font. the sleeves and collar were bright pink, and the text matched.
he felt that calling you “babydoll” made him sound a bit too much like a boyfriend, so from then on, he coined that nickname “doll”, and it stirred up a sweet and delicate feeling in your chest but it also caused your head to fall fuzzy to the utmost dangerous thoughts about your best friend.
but honestly, you were entranced with the sentimental feeling that bloomed in your chest every time he spoke the nickname.
“i said,” you start, dragging out the “a” as you turn on to his street, “that the day where i quit my job has finally come! so i’m outside because we’re gonna go to some bar or club and celebrate. that’s why i told you to get ready earlier and order an uber.”
“holy shit i cant believe you actually did it!”
“same now get the fuck out here!” you giggled, ending the call and climbing out of your car, waiting against the driver’s door as matt stepped outside, making quick strides over to you, and pulling you into a hug as the uber he ordered came into view.
the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, not wanting to talk about too much with a stranger in the car, knowing very well it could fall on the wrong ears when another passenger climbs into that very seat.
you were beginning to question whether or not getting drunk with matt was a good idea, you had been harbouring so many things directed toward him for the last little while, and you were about to combust. you knew that if you had even the tiniest bit of liquid courage in you, your deepest secrets would come tumbling out like word vomit.
as if matt could sense your worry, he placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh as if to say “you’re okay.” and in all honesty, you were both convinced you each had a sixth sense when it came to one another, you could easily read matt and figure out what he was feeling or thinking after a split second of looking at him, and vice versa. your internal spiral was cut short as yours and matt’s favourite club came into view.
you both quickly thanked your uber, giving him a perfect rating before making your way into the club.
“what are we drinking first, doll?” matt hums, however his words fell on vacant ears, you couldn’t stop yourself from zoning out on the way he looked tonight, his shoulders look broad and defined beneath the dark muscle tee he wore, and the pants he paired his shirt with were your favourite pair of anything he owned. they were his black carhartt carpenter pants, paired with his notorious key ring attached to the belt loop, and his white airforces. matt noticed the way you were watching him, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence flow through his veins.
“huh?” you sputter, finally meeting his eyes with your face turning a deep pink, but you were glad the strobe lights in the club were red.
“what are we drinking first?”
“i need a shot of tequila and a vodka redbull.”
“make that two shots, a vodka redbull for her, and i’ll just have a jack and coke.” matt calls to the bartender, having to raise his voice over the loud music and chatter surrounding the bar. once again, as you wait for your drinks, you finding yourself falling into deep concentration, unable to tear your eyes from matt as he leans against the bar. matt turns to hand you your shot, only to find you roughly feeding half of your bottom lip between your teeth, your stare vacant but determined.
“doll, you’re gonna split your lip, stop doing that.” he murmurs, loud enough for only you to hear as he presses his thumb against your lip, pulling it from your teeth, slowly becoming hypnotized by the way it recoils back into its natural pout.
“sorry, the realization of everything is settling in you know?”
“that’s why we’re gonna take our shots, chug our drinks, order more shots, and then dance.”
“matthew sturniolo? offering to dance before anyone else? did i trip and fall into an alternate universe?”
“shut up.” he laughs, downing his shot after clinking his glass against yours, and once again you’re entranced by him, watching the way his adam’s apple bobs slowly as he swallows, finding it incredibly attractive how he hardly makes a face after the shot is gone. before he can meet your stare, you down your shot, followed by your drink, getting rid of both quite quickly, and ordering two more shots for you and matt.
about an hour passes, and you’re both quite tipsy as you dance and scream along to the music, laughing at the moves you both pull out, not caring if anyone sees or judges. but you’re about to tap matt on the shoulder to tell him you’re going to order another, when babydoll comes on. you’re shocked to say the least, it’s not really a clubbing song but you’re thanking what being above compelled the dj to play it. matt watches you dance along to your favourite song with a dazed grin, his eyes beginning to become hooded as the alcohol takes over his body.
as you’re singing along, you make eye contact with him and it feels as id the entire world stops, like time was standing still as you slowly gravitate toward him. you’re watching him with through rose coloured glasses as his hands fall to your hips, pulling you flush against him with your hands on his shoulders, and rocking your bodies back and forth. the heat emanating from his palms against your hips and lower back makes your head spin in the best way as you lean in close, your lips ghosting over his as you mumble the words,
“oh babydoll, i cant move on.”
the words almost act as if they’re an unspoken confession, because matt’s nodding along to your words, understanding the underlying meaning behind them. and matt humming the next line, his lips pressing just the slightest bit more against yours, and you’re understanding everything he’s implying.
what started out as an innocent celebration between you two, has now become a flustered mess, your lips are so close, and yet neither of you are ready to cross that line as the next song begins playing, and it’s a raunchy and filthy song, making the moment all the more erotic.
“i need to kiss you, matt.” you whisper against his lips, the torture of having them so close yet so far was causing your head to spin, and you couldn’t wait anymore. and as if to tease you more, matt’s tongue darts between his lips, wetting them, the tip of it brushing ever so slightly against yours. and he couldn’t help smirk as your eyes flutter shut at the smallest amount of contact. and all your self will goes out the window as you hook your fingers around his silver chain, tugging his lips completely against yours, your mouths moving in sync as you reach the moment you’ve been craving since you met matt.
the kiss is sloppy, warm, and extremely hot. it was a mess of clashing teeth, spit swapping, and tangled tongues. matt’s the first to pull away, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth ever so gently, loving the way it bounces back. he loves everything about your lips, the fullness, the shape, and god their shade of pink drives him crazy.
“you don’t know how long i’ve wanted that, doll.” his whispers, his voice think with want and fulfillment as he stares down at you, his left hand moving from your hip to your jaw, his thumb resting against your lip as you smile at him.
“i think i have an idea because i’ve wanted it just as long, matty.”
the two of you don’t break too far apart for the rest of the night, allowing yourselves to sit comfortably in the purgatory of staying the same or indulging in something more that you’ve turned your friendship into. you’re sure to regret letting yourself give so easily into wrecking your friendship with him in the morning, but right now, you couldn’t be bothered, especially not after finally kissing him because right now, all you want to do is keep kissing him. the way his lips fit against yours has almost become addictive, loving the way his lips taste slightly like your lip glass with remnants of coke and rum.
you weren’t sure how you were going to navigate the new change, but what did know was that you were going to be utterly fucked when you wake up tomorrow and remember that you made out with matt.
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Littlest Hughes - Mark Estapa
summary: when a game of beer pong turns interesting you learn to realise that your brothers friend isn't so bad after all.
trope: forced proximity
warnings: sexual themes, p in v (unprotected!), underaged drinking, swearing, fingering.
word count: 3.67k
authors note: to the people that remember when this idea came out in like November, thanks for being patient cause Mark and the beerpong fic are now here! everyone thank @hischierhaze for making this one come out long before she was actually intended to be here for you all. if you want to look at more of the 500 celly then you can do so here!
You swore you hated him.
It was the idea of having someone you couldn’t stand in the slightest. The kind of person you couldn’t even be in a room with as you just wanted to gauge your eyes out. Someone who made you feel so irritated that the mere thought of them had you getting angry.
Now you have weren’t entirely sure why he pissed your off in the ways that he did. But as Mark seemed to hate you just as much as you hated him, you were never going to be in a rush to improve your relationship. Yet the problem arose when he instead opted to get close to your brother, Luke.
The boys were teammates and it was enough to make your whole family agree that your negative relationship with Mark wasn’t enough to stop him from being invited to the lake house. It was Luke’s first summer as an NHL player and those friends from college were the very men that Luke missed so much. So being the best younger sister that you were, you agreed to bite your tongue.
That’s how you landed up spending a week with his closest friends and for the most part you were having a good time.
“God you are such an ass!”
Key word, for the most part.
Mark smirked as he held your top over his head leaving you in nothing more than your blue and yellow bikini “you and I both know that those aren’t the right words.” He teased continuing to lean up each time you reached for the baseball jersey “I will kick you Estapa stop being a dick.” You spat as you crossed your arms sending him a glare.
Before Mark could respond Luke walked into the room “bro could you not leave my sister half naked?” Your older brother gagged as he shook his head “till next time kid.” Even though there was less than two years between you both Mark still loved that nickname.
So as he dropped your shirt in your hands you couldn’t help but scowl at him “fuck off.” You growled pulling the shirt over your arms “you wanna go on the boat you two?” Jacks offer pulled your attention away from the boy as you nodded “sounds great!” You nodded leaving the boy alone as you went to be in peace for the next few days.
You weren’t a hockey player, it wasn’t your thing but what is your thing is beer pong. Yet unfortunately for you it seems that the only person worthy of being your opponent was Mark. So that was how you both ended up being the last ones left in what felt like the longest game of beer pong that anyone had seen “you two see an end in sight?” Quinn groaned as he looked down to his watch when he let out a yawn.
It was this endless back and forth where you would each win a game and would then refuse to let them take it and that’s how you ended up at 12-13 with the only rule that to be crowned champion you’d have to win by two games “you ready to give up?” You sent the boy a glare as it only made the Michigan player laugh “just when I thought you could have been stronger than you actually came off.” The compliment was backhanded as Mark laughed.
The boys responded with groans as the idea of this game continuing made them all feel sick “I’m going to bed.” Quinn announced as he shook his head “me too.” With that boys went in groups as your constant bickering got tiresome.
Seven games had gone on and the new score was 16 all and you were just as irritated now as you were then “could you hold off on killing each other until tomorrow?” Ethan asked as he let out a yawn “want to watch it happen.” Mackie laughed as he nodded in agreement only going quiet when Luke sent them a glare.
Your brother rolled his eyes as he placed his hand on your shoulder “please just let him win so you can both go to bed?” Luke mumbled hoping that you would agree “never.” You grumbled as you refused to give Mark that kind of joy.
So of course things continued and you guys were left alone but not before Luke kissed your head “now you don’t got your big brother helping you out.” Mark teased as he got the ball between his fingers as he lined up his shot.
Mark smirked as he saw you pull your hair into a hair tie “tryna distract me with your skin?” The boy mumbled seeing your collarbones pop through the red cami vest that your were in “cause it’s not gonna work.” He added making you laugh.
It was a hearty one as your teeth caught your lower lip “please the mere thought of tits are gonna have you not seeing straight.” You pressed your hands against the table exposing your body more to him “you wanna bet?” Mark made little effort to ignore the white lace that so clearly stuck out of your top.
He took your silence and furrowed eyebrows as curiosity “winner takes all this game.” The hockey player offered making her scoff “higher stakes though as we’re now doing strip beer pong.” His offer was only met with the sounds of your scoff.
You crossed your arms as you couldn’t help but send him a glare “you just want to see me naked.” You rolled your eyes not wanting to give into him “don’t flatter yourself princess you aren’t my type.” Mark shook his head as he wasn’t interested in you like that “but if you are scared you’re gonna lose then I can accept-” you couldn’t even let him finish his sentence.
“Throw the damn hall Estapa.”
A scoff left your lips as you watched him go back to angling the hall and of course it just had to land in the beer “should we go with your shirt or your shorts first?” Mark teased as he watched you hook your fingers into your shirt before you pulled it over your head revealing the white bra you loved so much as it had a little golden v in between the wires to compliment your skin “not bad.” The boy mumbled to himself as he had seen you in less before but never in something with lace.
You took your cup and brought it to your lips letting the unsweetened liquid hit your tongue as you chugged it back not caring at the amount that dripped down your chin “what?” You asked dropping the cup to the ground as the boy looked like he was watching a dream “nothing.” Mark ignored how your lips were wet and the top of the lace of your bra as getting soaked as beer dropped down your chest.
Of course your ball went in and off went his shirt, it was followed by your shorts and then his. Until eventually you were both only on your undergarments “need some help getting that bra off?” Mark joked as he watched you reach behind your back but not before you flipped him off.
The idea of anyone being able to come down at any point didn’t seem to bother either of you as you clicked the clasp of your bra letting it fall down your arms as the cool summer night air made your nipples harden “you really do have secrets Hughesy.” Mark felt his mouth water as his eyes were drawn to the sparkling titanium bar that was pierced through your left nipple “shut up.” You grumbled as you attempted to ignore the way his hardening stare made you feel.
As you potted your final ball it left the boy having to discard of his boxers “don’t bother with those.” You mumbled leaning down to grab your bra from the floor “would hate to see what isn’t there.” The claim was a total slap in his face and you knew what you were doing as you aimed to piss him off.
It infuriated Mark with how well you knew to get under his skin “please you’d be lucky if I fucked you.” You began walking over to him as your bra was thrown onto the table “Mark I don’t think you even know how to make a girl come.” You shot back as you pressed your finger into his chest “I’d have you struggling to walk tomorrow.” Mark shook his head as he wrapped his hand around your wrist pushing your hand away from his chest.
This was the closest you had ever been to him before as his eyes pierced yours “I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on this planet.” You laughed as you turned to walk away but the boy was quick to pull you back “so if I felt those pretty little panties would they be dry?” His voice was barely a whisper as he walked you back against the table until you were finally sat on it.
Your eyes were wide as you shook your head desperate to not give him the enjoyment of seeing that he had indeed won “be as dry as the desert.” You spoke through gritted teeth almost squealing as Mark dug his fingers into the skin of your hips “you gonna let me test my theory then?” He asked dropping his head to the point where his lips hovered over yours.
All you could do was nod as you before his lips were on yours. It was messy as your hands your tugging through his hair like you didn’t want him to ever leave you “fuck.” He grumbled feeling your teeth sink down onto his.
It was like you knew what you were doing as you smirked “even as I’ve got you ready for a good fuck you’re still acting like a fucking brat.” The college boy growled pinching your chin between his fingers as he clenched his jaw “what are you gonna so about it?” You sent him a smirk as you swore that if this was a battle, you were winning it.
Mark spoke to himself under his breath as he dropped his head to your jaw as he began planting kisses on your skin “shouldn’t even fucking treat you well.” His voice sent shivers through your ears as he continued dropping his lips down your chest “saw you looking at it.” His eyes locked onto your breast “you can touch it y’know.” You teased tugging your fingers through his hair making him groan in the process.
He wasn’t going to be told again as he latched his lips around your pierced nipple as he groaned swirling his tongue around the piece of jewellery “fuck.” You swore trying to shut your legs to relieve the tension between your thighs “you still think that I can’t make you feel good?” Mark brought his hands down to your legs making you shiver as he forced your legs open.
You chewed at your lip watching him get closer to the pool that had formed in your panties “when I speak you need to answer me princess.” You swore the hockey player growled as you nodded “know you can’t.” The tough facade you had up was hanging by a thread and it only grew weaker with how his hands grew closer to your core.
A gasp left your lips as his hand cupped your core “fuck!” Your moan was swallowed by his lips “you little liar.” Mark clicked his tongue as a wet patch formed in your panties “please.” His thumb pressed against your clit where it drew soft circles.
Your head dropped against his shoulder as your body grew soft “what do you need pretty girl?” Marks voice was soft as he left a kiss on your forehead “you.” You croaked out as he toyed with your panties finally pushing them to the side.
Mark teased you as you shook your head “want more.” You whimpered looking up at him with a pout “please.” You begged edging your cunt closer to his fingers “didn’t know that all I needed to do was fuck you to get you to shut up.” Mark sighed as he teased your slit.
His fingers took their time plunging into your cunt “god!” Your groan was swallowed by his hand “you want your brothers to hear how much you enjoy my fingers fucking your pussy?” The hockey player rasped into your ear as you shook your head.
His fingers were thick against the walls of your cunt as he curved his fingers into a come here motion “they can’t.” You mumbled growing panicked as you were reminded of how all three of your brothers were upstairs “then keep those pretty little lips shut if it’s not gonna be too hard for ya?” Mark tauted you as you mewled under his attention.
You clenched around him as you nodded finally going quiet “like having you all quiet now.” As you tilted your head up trying to bring your body closer to his Mark took the opportunity to nip at your neck “no!” You gasped as he inserted a third finger not caring about your protests.
Mark smirked as he didn’t care “think you’re in a place to make the demands?” He scoffed as he clicked his tongue “thought you were smarter than that.” The hockey player teased as you pouted “the boys are gonna see.” You complained as his eyes sharpened.
Somehow the words made his whole demeanour change “you worry what those boys are gonna think of you now?” Mark spat as he increased the pace of his fingers as he fucked your cunt “like you really gonna now care about them seeing you like the slut you’ve become f’me?” He added standing up straight as he glared at you.
Your lips remained sealed as you tried to writhe your hips against his hand “remember pretty girl you answer me when I talk to you.” The hockey player warned “I’m your slut.” The words came from your lips as it made him grow surprised.
The words made his cock grow hard against his boxers “you happy to see me or what?” You smirked feeling it press into your knee “think I need to fuck this behaviour out of you.” Mark grumbled pulling your panties down your legs as it hooked around your ankles.
You had finally pushed Mark to a point where he had snapped and he wasn’t ready to come down from it yet “fuck I don’t have a condom.” The boy complained as he hadn’t exactly thought that having sex on this trip was on the cards for him “on the pill.” You shook your head offering a counter point that he gladly took.
Being a hockey player you weren’t surprised that his cock was on the larger side of big but you had to admit that your mouth did water when he retracted his fingers from your cunt to pull his boxers down letting his boner hit his pelvic bone “you still sure that this is what you want?” Sure Mark thought you were still irritating but the even with that irritation he still believed in consent “please.” You whimpered as you bit down on your lower lip watching in awe as he pumped his cock a few times before he tapped the swollen head on your clit coating it in his precum.
There was a moment between you both that if you weren’t still so buzzed from the alcohol in your system you would have sworn that there was something that could have mirrored something romantic between you both. His lips were soft on yours as his cock slowly creeped into your cunt letting your walls stretch to accommodate him “fuck you’re perfect.” Mark gasped as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder as he kept himself from coming on the spot.
He had a few moments of just staying there with his cock frozen before you finally cleared your throat “need you to fuck me Mark.” You coughed out as the boy turned his face to look at you “please.” You didn’t need to ask twice as he nodded letting his hands grip at your hips as your legs locked behind his hips.
Even as you were outside with the breeze your skin felt like it was on fire when his eyes pierced your gaze “how many guys you let have this tight little cunt of yours?” Mark made little effort to try to avoid the fact that he was jealous of his own question when the idea of some other guy fucking you came into his mind.
As his cock throbbed in your core you struggled to stay focused “j-just t-tw-two.” You stammered falling over your words as his thrusts became deeper “and did they make you feel this good?” Mark swore that the image of you beneath him struggling to even shake your head as your breasts bounced with each thrust that he made, would he engraved in his brain forever.
The first time you had sex was in high school when you lost it to your boyfriend of two years and you were both virgins. He came within a couple of pumps of his cock and left you there frustrated and alone as he went to shower only handing you a wet cloth before he shut the door behind himself. The other was a jock that was only sleeping with you to get the attention of an ex so the moment she came knocking on the door he went running back to her.
So if you truly thought about it Mark was your first time, not the embarrassing your overly awkward one. But your first time where you knew he was confident in what he did “didn’t come.” Even as you barely whispered those words Mark still heard you and he couldn’t help but smirk.
If anything Mark took that as a reason to quicken his thrusts as he watched your eyes roll back “gonna make you feel so fucking good then.” Your brain fog made you wonder if he was merely thinking aloud or actually talking to you “and to think that you really put up that whole act before?” The hockey players teasing tone had you clenching around him as you propped your hands up behind you to stop you from falling back.
His hand took the opportunity to slide between your bodies as he found your clit “you’re so fucking pretty when you’re so cock drunk.” The compliment came with a groan as he began toying his thumb over your clit “not gonna last.”
You warned not caring who heard your whimper that echoed from your chest.
Mark felt his thrusts grow irregular with how you cunt squeezed his cock with the new pressure your clit felt that had you wanting to press your thighs together “go make a mess doll.” There came the softest of the pet names from the night as he kissed you lips letting his hunger and pure desire to be the first guy that has you coming on their cock, take over his mind.
All that was left for you to do was listen to him as your lips let out a gaspy moan “holy fuck!” You swore as your eyes screwed shut letting white specks scattered themselves on the backs of your eyelids like stars in the night sky “breathe through it.” Mark cooed helping you on as the movements of his thumb combined with the thrusts of his cock lulled you through the brunt of your orgasm that had your legs shaking against his hips.
Before Mark could let his orgasm take charge he slid his cock out from your cunt making sure that you had come before that and he replaced the walls of your cunt with his hand “wha-” you grew confused at his abrupt movement “oh baby you have to work for me to come in you.” He grunted watching the warm sticky ropes shoot onto your stomach.
It made you whimper as you watched almost hypnotized by the sight “next time if you aren’t a fucking brat I might let you get it properly.” The hockey player explained tapping the head of his now soothing cock on your clit letting what was left in him ooze onto your slit “that was.” Your chest heaved as you swore that you had just had the hottest experience of your life.
Mark laughed as he nodded “I know.” He pecked your lips as he reached down to where your panties had fallen to and made the effort to slide them back onto you but not before the hockey player kissed your lips “think it’s time for you to go to bed.” A yawn left your lips as you nodded at his words.
He finished dressing you and even opted on helping you up the stairs before he left you tucked into your sheets where you nuzzled your head into the soft pillow “maybe you aren’t that bad Hughes.” Mark mumbled feeling his heart grow full at the sight of you blissfully drifting off to sleep.
But as he let your door softly shut after him it would seem that nothing would actually ever truly change between you both. Because at the end he was always going to be your brothers friend who pissed you off, and well you were always meant to be Luke’s hot sister.
Yet the true test that would come after this was when Mark would have to realize that you weren’t his, no he wasn’t good enough to get that right to have you under his arm at every event on campus. Instead he was destined to watch other guys fill that role one you finally grew into a more confident state.
“Since when has Rutger had a thing for little Hughes?”
#mark estapa smut#amber writes fics#ambers 500 celly#imagines#oneshots#hockey imagines#hockey imagine#umich smut#umich imagines#hockey smut
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(7) please, let me stay* | I got a bad idea series
—> masterlist
southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader
tw: angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, suggestive content at the very end (sex implied), miscommunication trope?, mentions of homewrecking, r is insecure and overthinks, bit of arguing, conflict is resolved fast though (bc if w&n have to be sharp or else r will go on forever lmao), very small injury (r)
a/n: not proofread so it’ll be fucking shit, but I hope you still enjoy.
The flight back to New York was set to leave after tomorrow. At 8AM you’ll be on the plane heading back with no form of communication with the two. Since ending up in their bed and pressed about their house by their needy bodies, they’ve not seemed to care to ask about your relationship status. It’s not them, you haven’t thought to ask either, but you felt you had reason. It was their relationship first and you barged in.
You felt it was wrong, that you were wrong and unimportant. Their relationship was built on time and trust, and the last few days have told you that yours was built on lust and summer crushes. The guilt tore you from the bottom up, but you left their house one day and didn’t return.
You had one day left and then all of this will have been like it didn’t happen. You can let your feelings fade as the months go by again, maybe even years. These thoughts were the ones you mulled over and felt yourself leaving your family to hide in the bathroom to recover.
It was a fling. Your relationship built over half a month. To say it was love, felt one sided and cheesy. It was teenager puppy love. Another person you let in and fell for too fast.
It was difficult to hide from them as they kept busy. You did too, your grandparents saw you came back and set a list of daily chores. Cleaning the stalls, feeding the livestock, and checking in on their smaller personal garden to pull any weeds. You successfully avoided them this morning, not that it should be considered one going off of how tired you felt.
It was later into the night. The sun having set hours ago and the stars beginning to scatter across the skies. Your grandma sat out in the back. You noticed the top of her head through the window, hair frizzy from the humidity.
She smiled when you came to sit by her. The little candle being the only light, a specific kind that apparently repelled mosquitos.
“Do you like it,” she asks once you’ve settled down into the rocking chair.
“I do, it spells rather nice.”
“No. Running away again.”
You held back the attitude, knowing she wouldn’t let that down for the rest of the night.
You bring your glass up to your lips, “I’m not.”
“Why do you enjoy trashing everything you have? You ran away from here and now you’re running from them,” she sighs, “have they done anything?”
“No.”
“Then why, sweets?”
“Because I’m not welcomed. They have photos lining the walls of their home with the two of them at their wedding. Why ever would I get so selfish to engage with them?”
Your grandma’s face looks sad, eyes downcast as she looks at your side profile.
You saw them pull into the driveway just then, Natasha turning the car off and stepping out, and Wanda walking towards your home. She looked fine, neutral expression as she climbs up the slight slope your grandparents house sat on.
You stepped back inside, setting the glass anywhere on the rush your room. You pitched yourself by the open window.
“Hi Wanda, what brings you over?”
“Is she home tonight.”
You prayed your grandma would be on your side, to make up an excuse to free you.
“She’s just gone to bed.”
Wanda hums, hands in her back pockets as she looks up towards your window, “wanted to invite her over for dinner tomorrow since she’s leaving town soon.”
“Lovely, I’ll tell her in the morning.”
She bids her a goodnight, walking back the way she came. You shivered from where you stood by the window ceil, rubbing your arms to try and stop the goosebumps from forming.
You got your answer. She expressed her care, putting the weight onto you now to respond.
That morning your grandmother retold the information to you, news you already knew. She stared at you long after. You felt it on your back as you walk past her on the couch.
“While you’re out could you make sure the stable doors are shut properly? Those dark clouds are bringing a storm with them, with a storm comes wind.”
You slide your shoes on, sending her a smile to confirm your answer. When you woke up that morning you noticed the room was darker than usual, the sun hiding behind your curtains.
A light shower was settling in around lunch. The rain lightly settling on your clothes, darkening where they landed on your shirt.
You carry the last bucket into the shed, shutting and locking the doors. A sharp pain enters your finger, pressing against the pad of your index. You groan but it sounds more like a cry, peeling your hand away to find a splinter lodged in the skin.
You held your finger in a specific angle so you can see it and grasp it with your other hand to peel it out. The only item with wood you touched was earlier that morning when you heaved a plank into the shed. It wasn’t an asked chore, you just wanted to since it’s been sitting out since the day you arrived, termites beginning to eat away at it.
The splinter stayed in your finger, not notifying you of its presence until you had to use that specific area of your finger. You walked the bucket to the stable, fixing to end the day soon since the sky was beginning to grow darker.
You step into the shed, setting the bucket to the left of you somewhere. The rain carried out above you, the sound providing a relaxing atmosphere within the building. You brush your hand along the horses faces if they were there, avoiding the one towards the end who’s known for snapping.
It was your last day with them. Since you left so early in the morning, you practically only had a few hours left. You’ve been mulling over the situation during your tasks. Your mind wondering as you completed the mundane tasks.
At the moment their house was down the hill. A possible three minute walk. You decided against it, wondering around the building to shut all of the storm doors.
The storm started to pick up. Trees swaying with the motion of the wind, rain turning the dirt into mud. You shut the door, mumbling under your breath about the storm as you walk back for the night. You were cold. The rain covering your body in seconds, making your clothes feel heavy as you walk down the hill, sliding once due to the mud.
You reach your hand to knock, excited to be back in a warm environment. She opens the door, hair wet from a recent shower. Her shampoo smell flaring in front of you, a difference from the past days where it’s been fading.
“I never walk in a storm, let alone wonder in mud,” you start, leaning further under the canopy to hide from the thunder strike.
“You’re very brave, would—“
“No, you don’t understand I’ve never done that.”
“Would you like to tell this heroic story inside,” she asks and leans back to allow space for you.
Wanda shows from the kitchen after hearing the voices in the living room. She looks to your drenched body and asks Natasha to grab towels.
“She could shower and wear ours in the meantime?”
“There’s lightening outside, she can’t shower.”
Natasha looks at her wife like she’s crazy, “you still believe that? She’ll be fine.”
“Better safe than sorry,” she says, wiping her greasy hands on a towel, “how about you dry off with a towel and put on some warmer clothes. I’ll put your wet clothes in our dryer for a minute.”
You thank them, not saying much as you follow Natasha around until you’re left alone in their bathroom. The weight is lifted off you once you’ve taken everything that got drenched in the storm. Their clothes are warm and fresh. It doesn’t distinctly have their smell, you realize it smells more like their laundry detergent, fresh.
The warmer clothes don’t stick to your body, allowing you to relax. You call out to Wanda, handing her the clothes so she can throw them into the dryer.
“I’ll have dinner ready in fifteen, Natasha’s in the office if you’d like to see her.”
You took it as a sign to leave, going from one stuffy environment to the next. You found Natasha sitting at the desk, focus set on the screen in front of her. It felt like the more you stepped inside the more space was set between you. You greet her, voice meek and hoping she didn’t hear you.
“When’s your flight tomorrow.”
“Early morning.”
“How long will you stay in New York?”
“Maybe a year. Maybe a few years.”
She sets her glasses down then, powering down her computer. She moves around with ease, moving to walk down the stairs.
“I don’t know what’ll happen, I haven’t decided—“
“Running away from making decisions doesn’t help you make one.”
“I’m not running away.”
She turns on her heel, “don’t lie to me. I hate liars.”
“I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m not running away.”
“Within the whole five minutes you’ve been here you’ve been looking like you’re about to run at any second.”
“And what about that,” your emotions get to you, pitching your voice, “this is the first time I’ve ever stopped trying to ‘run away,’ and you’re focused on how shy I look?”
You hate yourself for how easily you succumb and react to emotions. Tears were present in your eyes, making your vision blurry but not yet making its way on your face. Natasha doesn’t say anything, frozen where she had turned around.
“I know I’m bad at communicating, don’t you think I know that? It’s frustrating how obvious my problem is.“
Natasha calls your name, but you shove her off, “and so what if I was considering leaving and not saying anything? I almost did, and I kind of wish I did. This whole thing was a mistake.”
You look away, wrapping your arms around your body subconsciously to comfort yourself. Tears spilt when she comes closer to pull you into her. You waste no time to wrap your arms around her, crying harder into her shoulder. You mumbled repetitive apologies, every one shushed by Natasha as she tries to calm you down.
You hear Wanda’s footsteps, soft pats getting louder until she’s behind you. Her hand lands on your back, rubbing circles.
“This is why talking is important, thoughts lie and you begin to spiral.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No,” she draws it out, “not sorry. We want you to feel comfortable talking with us. Hard topics have to be talked about or distance gets placed between people and anger begins to build.”
“I’m sorry for snapping at you, I said a lot that was out of line.”
You push her off, sitting down on the couch, “it’s okay.”
“I’m going to ask a yes or no question,” Natasha says, her tone almost a whisper, “do you want to stay.”
“Yes.”
Wanda reaches a hand under your chin to tilt your face up so she can press her lips to yours, “missed you.”
She heads back towards the kitchen, asking Natasha to come help her grab the food from the oven; Something about not having any item to take it out with and Natasha was the next best option.
You only barely arise from the couch, thinking Natasha was leaning to kiss you but her lips miss yours.
“I missed you,” her lips are pressing into your neck, just under your ear.
“Missed you in my bed, I wished your fingers were mine at night.”
She laughs, leaving to no doubt tell Wanda what you told her. Wanda sees you enter, leaning back from the oven to kiss whatever was closest to her, “I’m happy you stayed. Don’t forget to cancel your flight.”
Natasha sets the tray onto the stove, rubbing her fingers onto her pants right after. You mumble about not getting a kiss from her and she’s quick to lean closer to quiet your complaining. She’s wiping away the wetness in your cheeks, fingers still warm from the oven.
“Better?”
“Much better,” you smile against her lips.”
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choso never offically asked you out and you never offically moved in, you just… stayed there.
you and choso met in your second year of college. he was the big quiet guy that everyone was attracted to but he stayed to himself.
he was always in and out, he was the first one out the class and you would rarely see him around campus, you got lucky to have one class with him.
choso always saw you, you sat in the row down from him, he could recognize you from the cute little hat stayed on your head during the winter, and the way you was always bundled up.
he found you endearing, you were the same as him. you stayed out the way, did your work and only spoke to a few people.
so why not give talking to you a try.
he took the opportunity of having a group assignment to speak to you, his face red from embarrassment and not knowing what to say.
“if you don’t have a group yet, we can just start out with the two of us.” he let out bouncing his leg up and down with anticipation, not knowing what your answer would be.
please say yes please say yes please say yes please sa-
“sure. i’ll find the other two people.” you stand up and walk down towards the front to speak to a couple of people.
choso’s heart immediately slowed down from relief.
from that day onward the both of you grew closer, from keyed interest, family life, being able to enjoy each others silence, food, everything the two of you did with each other felt special.
at least to choso.
hanging out in public turned to hanging out in private. always in his apartment cooped up either playing games, eating, talking about people… or fucking.
the fucking wasn’t intentional, it kinda just happened after a night of drinking and just continued to happen.
after physical contact there was no going back, he knew he had feelings for you and you knew you had feelings for him, the both of you just didn’t want to share.
not because you were afraid the other person didn’t feel the same, but because there was no point, no point in complicity.
you weren’t aching to be his and he wasn’t aching to be yours, yet again if he saw another person talking to you he would twitch with jealousy.
that’s something only he knows though, he knew you weren’t going anywhere.
one night you showed up with a bag and he didn’t think too much of it until that night turned into a month, and the month turned into a year.
he didn’t even notice the pile of your things in the corner of the room quietly expanding, and neither did you.
you didn’t realize until your roommate finally texted you asking if you were ever coming back, awkward.
“omg i didn’t realize! i’ll come by tomorrow and we can talk.”
the next day you ended your lease and gave your friend the room, your roommate appreciated the approach.
til this day the both of you are going strong with no labels and you still living in his apartment (he doesn’t mind.)
he eventually got to telling you he loved you and you reciprocated it, but there were still no labels. how fun is that?
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#choso x you#choso x y/n#choso kamo#choso x reader#jjk choso#jujutsu choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso
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Runaway Husband: Part Two!
Read part one first!
Clay and Maggie exchanged worried looks, neither wanting to waver in their loyalty to Jack. Part of you respected the fact that they were keeping their loyalty a focus, but the other part of you was beyond frustrated.
Clay ended up joining Maggie and staying for a few days, making himself comfortable on your pull-out couch.
An overwhelming feeling of sorrow overcame you on your last night together, the four of you had spent the last few days bonding and making memories at home. Emmett felt the sadness too, as he was fussier than normal. His loud cries echoed in the house as you bounced him in your arms, eventually calming him down enough to put him in his baby swing for a nap.
Maggie insisted on cooking as she stood at the stovetop to made dinner, immediate flashbacks of your life with Jack flooded your mind. You remembered all of the times he’d rush home from a late night at the studio and make a grilled cheese for the both of you and how you’d stay up laughing for hours on end when you both couldn’t sleep.
Your eyes filled with tears, you had done so well at suppressing your emotions while Clay and Maggie were around not wanting them to feel caught in the middle more than they already were but tonight was the hardest.
Jack was trying to reach Maggie all evening, frantically calling her no less than 10 times. He had a meeting with his lawyers and was told you would be receiving a subpoena on behalf of his ongoing court case. It was news they tried to approach him with extreme softness, knowing you were a sensitive topic but regardless he didn’t handle it well.
The lawyers he hired looked to him with sympathy, letting him know they exhausted all other avenues and that they would pick back up tomorrow as they were done for the day.
Jack stayed alone in the room to collect himself for a moment. He had tried to shield you from all of this, but you were his fiancé at the time of the embezzlement so nothing was off the table. He had successfully kept the story out of the limelight, but that was no doubt going to change soon and he was overwhelmed with emotions.
Jack wasn’t able to reach Maggie, she was always his sense of comfort and the person he turned to for advice. It was rare for her to miss calls from him but she was more removed from her phone because she was around you and her grandson.
When Jack realized her location was off, he grew increasingly concerned and decided to call his dad for clarification.
Brian wasn’t the best liar and didn’t convince Jack in the slightest that his mom was out of town for a work-related conference. He sighed and quickly decided to call Clay to see if he had any insight into why their mom wasn’t answering his calls.
You watched Clay's phone buzz against the coffee table as dinner was still being made, Jack's contact name and photo appearing immediately.
“Clay- ummm your brother’s calling you” You picked his phone up, handing it to him. Your hands trembled at the possibility of hearing his voice.
Clay nervously answered, stepping outside to take the call. Within minutes he was back inside with a nervous look on his face, he had nonchalantly tossed his phone on the counter and didn’t say a word to either you or Maggie.
You could see that you were putting both Maggie and Clay in a compromising position, and you were worried that this would affect Emmett's relationship with them in the long run.
A wave of impulsion came over you, grabbing his phone and answering it as Jack's contact lit up the screen once more.
“Dude, why the fuck are you hanging up on me? I need you right now” Jack was yelling, his breathing short and shallow.
“Hey, sorry, it’s not Clay” you sighed into the phone wondering if he would recognize your voice immediately.
Maggie and Clay stayed focused on you, Emmett was babbling in his baby swing and you mouthed to Clay to keep an eye on him as you walked outside to sit on your back patio.
Jack felt like the wind got knocked out from underneath him. He was beyond panicked and hearing your voice was not what he was at all expecting.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” you mirrored back, truthfully not going into this conversation with any kind of a game plan, as you anxiously picked at your nails.
“Why are you with my family?” he was beyond confused but admittedly happy to hear your voice after all this time.
“Just because we ended things doesn’t mean they have to” You let out an awkward giggle hoping to break some tension.
He laughed too, which gave you an opening.
“We have a lot to talk about but I’d rather do it in person” You didn’t feel like it was morally right to drop the “you have a son” bomb over the phone.
“I agree but I also have to tell you something now” Jack coughed nervously, his throat felt dry knowing he had to say things to you that he had been keeping a secret.
“Go ahead.” You could tell he was nervous by the tone of his voice.
Jack took a seat on his barstool in his house, “The night before we were supposed to get married I found out that someone on my team was stealing money from me.”
You slapped a hand over your mouth instinctively as he continued to speak, mentally putting the pieces together. You wondered why he wasn’t naming this person but you saved your questions.
“I’ve been trying to keep you from the embarrassment of all of this but I was told today by my lawyers that you’re going to be subpoenaed.”
Your breath hitched, “subpoenaed? Why me?” You had wondered if they thought you had anything to do with it.
“My lawyers think it would be beneficial if you were a character witness. The courts just want to know if you had witnessed anything while we were together. They want to know if I was lying about any of my finances or doing anything wrong on my end.” Everything he said sounded like one giant run-on sentence, he was nervous to talk to you and ashamed at how he handed things.
“So I’m supposed to go to court and speak to your character?” You stifled a laugh, you were still angry at how things ended, further proving you were still in love with him.
“I know, I’m sorry” he knew what you were subtly referring to.
“Is your girlfriend going to be there? Did she get subpoenaed too?” You couldn’t help but feel a wave of jealousy come over you, you’d blame it on postpartum hormones if you had to, but you knew that was the furthest thing from the truth.
“Heather? She’s not my girlfriend, we have just been hanging out. It’s just PR to make things look good” he wasn’t supposed to admit it to a single soul but he felt like he owed you that much.
“We will fly home with your brother and mom tomorrow and meet you at her house in the evening so we can talk. Sound good?” You hadn’t even realized you started the sentence off with “we” but Jack did, wondering if it was a slip of the tongue and opting not to point it out.
••••
The flight to Kentucky felt excruciatingly long, Emmett was obviously very young, and that made you a nervous wreck about everything.
You had some baby items delivered to Maggie and Brian’s house that way things were set up when you got there. You didn’t expect Jack to already be waiting inside when you arrived.
He was sitting on the family couch with his head in his hands as you noticed the bassinet you had delivered was already put together and sat in front of him.
“How long has he been here?” You whispered to Brian as he softly took Emmett from your arms.
“Long enough to build that bassinet himself” he whispered back and the family agreed to give you both the room, leaving quickly to another room in the large house.
You stood in front of Jack who had only looked up at you now, his eyes were bloodshot and his hands were trembling. Otherwise, he looked handsome as ever, he had been working out, his arms were practically bursting out of his jacket and his hair and beard were fluffy and full.
“Is that for our baby?” He stood up, forgetting how much taller he was than you making you step back at his loud tone.
“Jack- let me explain.”
“It’s a yes or no question, do we have a child together?” He was closer to you now, unaware of how intimidating he may be. He had done the math in his head and it made sense.
You reached your hand out to push him back, “I’m going to need you to sit down if you want to have this conversation with me.”
He stumbled slightly unaware you’d be pushing him off balance, but he sat down on the same couch cushion he had been sitting on when you arrived. He was looking up at you now as you stood in front of him.
“Yes, that's what I wanted to tell you in person” Before you could continue Jack jumped up, ready to go looking for Emmett but you stopped him by standing in front of him.
“Jack, please! Can you just calm down and not go barging in there and scaring your son when you meet him for the first time?” You wanted to get all the animosity out of the way first.
“We have a son?” His face softened, that was the first bit of information he had gotten from you.
“I’ll start answering your questions when you start answering mine” You handed him some tissues out of a box on the side table in the living room.
Jack quickly wiped his drippy nose, collecting himself to answer anything you wanted to know. “Ask me anything.”
“Why didn’t we get married? Did you realize you didn’t love me? That I was too “boring?” You said that last word with air quotes.
“I’ve never stopped loving you, that’s the truth” he swallowed, keeping his eyes on you as you paced around the living room in front of him. You were wearing a long-sleeved purple body suit and black leggings, and new balances, a comfortable airport outfit but he still thought you looked beautiful.
“You’re still deflecting” You had zero patience for his lack of immediate answers.
“I don’t think you’re boring either” he laughed having to clarify. “The night before our wedding I found out that someone was stealing significant amounts of money from me and I didn’t want to get you involved. It was something I should’ve caught a long time ago but with the album and our wedding I was just distracted and it all came crumbling down so fast.”
You finally sat down, across from him as he spoke about the truth for the first time to you.
“Why didn’t you just tell me? It doesn’t make any sense to me. I was your fiancé, we were going to get married!” Your emotions were getting the better of you, as your voice was raised.
“I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought it would be easier if you didn’t know” and it dawned on you why things had become so complicated. Your mind was racing knowing of one possibility that would absolutely break your heart.
“My sister? Is it my sister?” You started to piece everything that had happened within the last year together now.
Your sister was already working for Jack and was the reason you two had met in the first place, this was her first “big girl job” and you and your family had assumed she was finally getting her life together.
Jack nodded confirming what you suspected, tears rolling down his cheeks.
When Jack called off your engagement, your sister stopped speaking to you and your parents, claiming you ruined all opportunities that came your way and that this would affect the both of you. She wasn’t even aware of your pregnancy, what was meant to be your wedding day was the day you lost both Jack and your older sister.
Your parents were never phased by her absence as she had always had a checkered past, so they never questioned why she disappeared since she had done it so many times before.
“You warned me to keep an eye on her and I just ignored it because she was your sister and I thought my team would catch any inconsistencies. Before the wedding I had them look into everything one last time for the sake of saying I did it but then they found out she was stealing from me and I didn’t know how to tell you…” He started to sob, a weight had been lifted telling you the truth but he felt regretful for missing out on so much. He was attempting to ramble through his tears as you stood up from your seat to approach him, kneeling to hold him as his muscular frame shook in your arms.
Jack loosely wrapped his arms around your body as you slowly stood up and instinctively wrapped yourself around him by sitting on his lap, holding one another through tears.
“I haven’t talked to her since that day. She doesn’t even know about Emmett” You nervously played with a stray curl, making him look up at you.
“His name is Emmett?” A small smile broke across his face, a twinkle in his bloodshot eyes that wasn’t there before appeared.
“Do you want to meet him?” You slowly stood up, embarrassingly realizing you had made it into his lap.
Jack nodded and you both walked down the hallway, lightly knocking on the door as Jack nervously followed behind you.
Maggie carefully handed Emmett to you. Jack made sure he was sitting down before you let him hold Emmett, the family leaving you both alone once again.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” He sniffled as he looked down at his son who was fast asleep after a long day of crying.
“You had already decided you didn’t want to be married, you told me you didn’t love me and that you needed to be with someone on your level. Why would I force you to pick me or raise a family with me for that matter?”
“You know now that wasn’t true right?” He finally looked up from Emmett to look at you. “Did you know that you were pregnant when…?” He didn’t want to finish that sentence and you knew that.
“I didn’t, not until a few weeks later” you shrugged, moving the blanket down from Emmett’s chin.
“He looks just like me” Jack chuckled, looking at you sympathetically “Sorry about that.”
You laughed, feeling the tension slowly dissipate at his comment. “It’s okay, it made me feel close to you.”
Jack smiled, finding comfort in the fact that you said that. “I’m sorry that I made things worse. I thought I was helping by keeping you from it and I didn’t know you were pregnant or that would’ve changed how I reacted.”
“Would it?” You were still hurt, and trying to suppress your need to subtly throw jabs at him.
“Yes, and I’m sorry” he couldn’t manage to say anything else, knowing he didn’t have a rebuttal.
“Anything I can do to make this easier, I will. If I have to go to court for you, I’ll do it. I always would’ve” You wanted that to be clear.
“I didn’t think it was fair of me to ask that of you. I tried everything to keep this out of your life” he sighed and you heard a knock on the door, Clay was wheeling the bassinet into the room for the both of you.
“Thank you” you hummed as he nodded and quickly left. You helped Jack carefully set Emmett down inside of it, his paternal instincts quickly kicking in as he sat on the bed next to the bassinet to keep a close eye.
“It’s not just about you and me anymore. You’re his dad and I want to make sure you’re okay. I’ll do whatever I have to and we can meet with your lawyers tomorrow” You sat on the bed beside him.
“Even if it means testifying against your sister?”
“I don’t have a sister as far as I’m concerned” you spoke to him as blunt as you could about that, wanting him to know you meant it.
“She stole a lot of money, and will likely go to prison for a long time. What if your parents don’t agree with your decision?” Jack was worried you’d change your mind once family weighed in.
“My parents won’t be upset with me, my sister has been causing chaos in their lives since she was a teenager. If anything they’ll just be happy you know about Emmett” You smiled, looking at your baby who was sound asleep.
“I just don’t want to lose you again, or him” Jack was immediately in love, but the reality set in quicker than anticipated.
“You won’t. You might want to call your lawyers first thing tomorrow and let them know you have a son though” you laughed, wondering if that would affect anything.
“I’m just glad I can stop hanging out with Heather” Jack nudged you with his shoulder knowing you were jealous when you mentioned her earlier.
“I like the sound of that” You leaned into him with your shoulder. He turned to you, his hands cupped your face as he went in for a kiss, something he had wanted to do from the moment you walked into the house.
Jack leaned back on the bed, grabbing your thighs and pulling you on top of him as Emmett was still asleep nearby.
“Jack- we can’t” you moaned between kisses, missing the touch of his hands more now than before.
“I just want to kiss you” he pleaded between moans, his kisses growing more and more sloppy as you straddled him, your fingers entangled in his curls.
You had no idea you had fallen asleep until Emmett woke you with his cries. Jack immediately rolled over, shushing you to go back to sleep as he kneeled to look for formula in the diaper bag on the floor.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” You whispered as he took a bottle from your bag, a look of worry came over him that you found endearing.
“I’ll show you” You picked Emmett up and held him against your hip as you walked with Jack to the kitchen, showing him the steps and how to test if the milk was too warm.
“I’m sorry you’ve been doing this all alone” he whispered, knowing he had a lot of things to catch up on. He bent down to quickly kiss you before testing the formula on his wrist.
“I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with all of this alone” you replied, referring to his impending court case.
“I wasn’t alone, I had Heather” he teased, making you roll your eyes as he giggled behind you and back to the bedroom.
“Don’t make me fly back home, you’re still on thin ice” you teased back, earning a scoff from Jack.
“Stop playing, this is your home now” he hummed, taking Emmett from you as he fed him for the first time. He flashed you a big bright smile, letting you know he was serious and you found all the comfort you needed in hearing that.
••••••
A/N: Special thanks to @vanwritesfan-fiction for helping me brainstorm the storyline for this part. I appreciate you so much.
#Jack Harlow#Jack Harlow x reader#jack harlow concepts#jack harlow blurb#jack harlow imagines#Jack Harlow angst
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+ cw. —› ex-husband aizen souske x (fem)reader, headcanon format, yan!behaviour, smût, angst undertones, marking, jealousy, mentions of breeding kink & baby-trapping | +wc. —0.7kish
+ notes. —› i was listening to cherry waves by deftones ( for the first time ) & this happened. maybe I'll pull this into a fic but for now, have this, please || redirect to blog navigation.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who feels his throat dry, lips corrosive against his favorite drink when he sees you in a cheap restaurant with another guy, considerably younger to y/n, who is alluded in her charms like he was when he first saw her walking down the aisle; when he casually stopped by, at that cheap bar after a long day at work.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who makes sure that from now on he will pay a visit to you and his beloved daughters every weekend so that she does not have to look for affection at some cheap bars and restaurants. This way at least he can ask her if she is actually planning for her second innings or not.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who calls you at ungodly hours: on a warm afternoon or in the dead of night just to let remind you that he will be coming to pick you up after work tomorrow for a weekly visit with his daughters just so his other meetings do not get delayed but all he wants to do is to keep you on watch as much as possible.
+. ex!husband aizen souske occasionally sends gifts to his daughters in order to send his ex-wife expensive presents with personal notes, as if he will return to this home after his work as if he never left.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who checks you out when you're unaware and yet tells you in that familiar deep husky tone: how much those colors suit her that he hated once, how much she looks charming and beautiful, how much she changed since he left and maybe divorce looks good on her : independent and elegant like a free bird.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who thinks her new young boyfriend is not good enough for you, always ends up going to the same restaurants and hotels where he used to take her, just remembering those good old memories.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who wants you back can not just let this opportunity slide, that is, him visiting you when the daughters are not home; so he just asks if you ever regret it or not as if he still can, as if he owns you. And, when he is responded with the same question right back at him he secretly congratulates himself for getting under your skin.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who knows your weak points lets you walk away knowing very well that you will turn around to have a last glance at him. So, all he would do is not turn his gaze when you have already walked passed by him, so that when you turn around all he has to do is to grab your wrists above her head saying, “Answer me. I asked you a question. Do you or do you not regret it?”
+. ex!husband aizen souske who is currently inches apart from you, staring right into your eyes while you squirm and look away but his hold on you grows only stronger when he sees your beautiful eyes glistening more than it usually does, perhaps he scared you a bit, cocks his head to a side, in the dip of your neck inhaling her scent murmuring, “Still wearing that perfume I gifted you, huh ?”
+. ex!husband aizen souske who is absorbed in the good old memories of you, your scent, and what he used to do whenever you used to cry and look sad is now slowly curling his arms around your waist while his lips drag from the corner of your lips to the neckline and then on to collar bones.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who smirks the moment he hears you moaning, even if it's feeble he lets go of her hands so that you can rest them over his shoulders while he could carry her to the nearby cupboard top to make you feel less lonely. He has fucked her there, made babies with her and he can do it again.
+. ex!husband aizen souske who could already feel you gripping the collar of his suit while he presses his hard-on against your entrance is already marking all the way up your exposed neckline so that whenever you meet with your new young boyfriend, he would take the hint right away. There is no way he is losing to a mere boy like Gin Ichimaru. He has to be the better one.
– @tokyometronetwork & @underratedcharactercorner
@semisgroupie & @sailewhoremoon ( cuz you two like himmm ... that's why I tagged?! )
#aizen x y/n#aizen x you#aizen x reader#aizen sosuke x reader#aizen smut#aizen sōsuke#aizen sousuke#bleach smut#bleach angst#smut hcs#smut headcanons#sosuke aizen#souske aizen#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x female reader#yandere x y/n#yandere smut#tw yandere#cw yandere#bleach x y/n#bleach x reader#bleach x you#bleach x female reader#gin ichimaru x reader#yandere hcs#yandere headcanons#yandere aizen#angst headcanons
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