#and even their last mission was so tense
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Why Can't I Keep My Fingers Off You? - G.S.
Synopsis. There were two things missing in the scene in front of you:
1. The aphrodisiac chocolate your friends had given as a gag gift last Christmas that had been hidden away in the back of your refrigerator.
2. Your dear fiancé.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, Satoru’s blindfold gets used, overstimulation (male + female), lots of cum, aphrodisiac sex, multiple rounds, making Gojo Satoru cum in his pants, breaking the bed, mating press, pet names (my girl), swearing.
Word count. 3.0k
A/N. Can you tell it’s ovulation week. PART 2 HERE. Art by @_3aem on x.
Ah~ It’s the 21st century, they should really make these curses self-exorcizing.
It’s been a long day of dealing with countless curses and five droning clan meetings (all of which he missed, oops). Now, Satoru loiters around your shared penthouse apartment - waiting for you to come back home from work.
Hmm, maybe he’ll quickly drop by and see what the first years are up to? He probably didn’t have a class right now.
But first, Satoru grins, opening the refrigerator to grab at the secret stash of sweets all the way in the back - something sweet.
---
It was odd to step into a tense silence suffocating your home - usually used to being met with whines of “how dare you take so long!” and “you won’t believe what that emo kid did today.” as soon as you walked in through the door.
Was Satoru running late on a mission today?
It wasn’t surprising, the man had to be everywhere - it’s not like he always has the time to teleport and welcome you home. Yet, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off as you made your way into the kitchen.
Cursing whoever invented the work week, the cold air of the refrigerator hits you as you open it to grab a drink, wondering when your fiancé will be home.
Wait.
Tired brain distinctly noting the lack of that familiar flash of hot pink, you double-take as you glare at the back of the refrigerator - as if willing it to materialize in front of you. Where was that?
“That” being the gag gift your friends had given you last Christmas to playful wolf whistles. Some large slab of “aphrodisiac chocolate” - probably normal chocolate - that you’d skeptically thrown in with your secret candy stash for a rainy day.
Satoru had ransacked your goods again, you sigh. But if he was home…then where was he?
“Toru? Are you home?” you call out in confusion, only to be met with a deafening silence.
Concern etched on your face, you set the drink down to look for Satoru, footsteps thumping against the hardwood floors at each tense step.
Approaching the bedroom, a low, unmistakable moan filters through the heavy door. Satoru.
Heartbeat racing and worry coursing through you, you cautiously push the door open - only to be met with a sight that makes your heart stop.
There, sprawled across your bed in just his boxers, a delicate flush spread enticingly along his sculpted body, was your Satoru.
Something about this scene felt more than a simple evening nap. The air was heady and thick with something. Maybe it was that familiar hot pink wrapper lying empty at the foot of the bed. Maybe it was the way Satoru’s usually vibrant eyes were half-lidded, curtained by his tousled hair.
Or maybe it was his hand squeezing the large outline of his achingly hard cock through his boxers. Circling the dark spot around his leaking tip. Massaging his heavy balls. Teasing.
“You’re home‘ he rasps out, voice strangled and snapping you out of your trance.
“Wha- yes. Toru, what happened?” you sputter out, eyes locked on the way his cock twitched animalistically at the sound of your voice.
In the blink of an eye, Satoru’s gotten up from the bed, muscled arms caging you against the wall. His rock-hard erection presses into your front, precum smearing through his boxers against your work clothes.
“You’re home.” he repeats, sounding as strained as if he were about to snap any second. Losing his sanity with each breath that fans your hair.
You could feel the pulsing of your cunt as your eyes flit from the sheen of sweat decorating his body to the blindfold haphazardly hanging off his neck. Satoru finally raises his eyes to look at you.
Oh, he’s already lost his sanity.
Pupils blown, those blue eyes you love now a lustful black - a predatory glint in them that made a carnal part of your cunt twitch. His mouth spreads into a wolfish grin, teeth bared as if ready to eat you up.
A shiver runs down your spine.
“Toru…you okay?”
“You’re home.” he breathes out, as if a prayer.
“Satoru.”
The simple call of his name sealed your fate.
The buttons hit the ground before you realize what he’s doing. Ripping your shirt off, pulling off your bra, fisting your clothes in his hands as if it killed him to see you clothed.
Too impatient - too starved - to remove your skirt, he pulls it to shreds off your hips.
“Woah- slow down there.” you squeal as he drops to Satoru knees, biting down on the thin fabric of your soaked panties, tugging with his teeth. You know he’ll buy you ten more to replace what he’s torn, but jeez where was the decorum?
“Can’t” he slurs, peeking up at you with dazed eyes. Was your Satoru even here with you?
“What?”
“Can’t stop.” he murmurs lowly, voice sending vibrations to your twitching cunt.
And before you know it, sharp teeth bite around your panties, ripping them to shreds. Looking up at you with hooded eyes, miles away, grinning devilishly around the soaked fabric in his mouth.
Shit, what have you gotten yourself into.
Despite your thobbing pussy, you soothe “Now, Toru. Why don’t we just-”
“Shut up.” he mutters. And he does - words catching in your throat as Satoru dives nose-deep into your dripping cunt. Hot tongue urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst..
Nose rubbing your pulsing clit in rough circles, he breathes you in so sinfully, letting out a throaty groan as he does. He bullies his tongue past your dripping folds, stretching you, dipping in and out of your quivering entrance. Over and over. In and out.
You were losing your mind with each rough push of Satoru’s warm tongue. Dizzying pace forcing lewd whimpers out of your mouth that mix with the squelches of his mouth on your pussy.
You buck your hips desperately into his face, and amidst his merciless abuse on your cunt, you barely notice the way he presses his body against yours.
Shit, so this is why he’s so fucking feral - Satoru’s cock was painfully hard, swollen and throbbing against your leg. Fuck- you weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.
He grind his hips into you, precum soaking your bare legs. With a low whimper at the back of his throat, Satoru’s tongue fucks you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting.
Maybe it’s the harsh abuse of his mouth on your swollen lips, nose catching on your clit just right. Or maybe it’s the feeling of your slick dripping down the corners of his mouth, onto your thighs and mixing with the precum of his aching erection.
Before you can even register it, you’re cumming all over Satoru’s mouth, grip tight on his white locks and hips riding his pretty face.
Greedily lapping at your quivering cunt, he moans as his eyes roll to the back of his head at the sweet juices pooling around his tongue.
In the back of your mind, you recognize the feeling of Satoru’s warm cum smearing against your leg. Did- Did Gojo Satoru just come in his underwear while eating you out?
Sinfully, he licks at the mixture of your juices dripping down your legs, eyes closed as if tasting a delicacy. He was going to be the death of you.
As soon as your high bates, Satoru stands to his full height. Towering above you with eyes that looked like he wanted to positively eat you alive.
“T-Toru…are you okay?”
But your fiancé stays silent, throbbing erection still straining painfully against his wet boxers as he shoves you against the cold wall. Rough hands on your hips, presenting your dripping cunt to him and arching you to his will.
A large hand smacks the wall beside your head, plaster crumbling under his strength. Shit, if he keeps going at this pace then nothing in the house will survive Satoru - including you.
You feel the cum-soaked fabric of his boxers grinding against your ass, his hands pulling and groping every bit of skin he can reach.
“Toru, take it off.” you whine out, words dripping in lust.
You don’t need to tell Satoru twice. With grace that he wouldn’t give your clothes, his boxers are on the ground, painfully hard cock hitting his abs.
You can feel the slick dripping down your legs as you look behind your shoulder to see one hand wrapped tightly around his large cock. Pulling in slow, languid motions up to the furiously flushed tip. His heavy balls twitch as he thumbs the prominent vein along the side.
“I want-”
You can’t even finish your sentence before Satoru’s bullying his massive cock into your snug cunt. Plush walls desperately trying to adjust to his size as he sheaths himself in your hot core.
You moan at the delicious stretch of your pussy. It’s not like you haven’t done this before - yet, where Satoru was usually suave in sex, right now it was replaced by pure, feral need. With his tip kissing your cervix as he pushed animalistically into your cunt - you didn’t know if you’d make it out alive.
“Hah- Toru it’s too big. Ah! I can’t-.”
“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed.
Satoru presses into you inch by fucking inch, groaning at the tight ring of muscles trying to both push him out and suck him in desperately. It was so animalistic.
It seems Satoru’s body moves before his mind, hips fucking into your dripping pussy recklessly. Harsh thrusts, not even pulling all the way out to ram into you as he usually does - as if he can’t bear to part with your wet core. His balls sting your cunt as they smack against you at his unforgiving pace, strings of slick and cum connecting him to you.
“Ah- So good f’me, my girl. Always- so good.” he gasps out at the heavenly feeling of your dripping cunt sucking him back in at each thrust. “Hngh! Mmm more. I need more. Need it so bad.”
Hands arching your back into him now grope the expanse of your skin, before wrapping around your body to lift you off the floor.
“Ah! Toru, what- hngh-” you choke on your words at the new angle.
Satoru’s body bows into you, cock still slamming inside you at a feral pace midair. Not even a hair’s breadth between your bodies.
With one hand he forces you to look up at him, capturing your lips with his in a searing kiss. Pretty mouth sucking your tongue as he did with your cunt.
If you were in a better state of mind, you’d notice the slight glow tinging his lustful eyes. The electricity thrumming through his fingers. Yet you already knew - Satoru was absolutely losing it.
Your feet dangle off the ground as he holds you securely, length reaching impossibly deeper inside you. Prominent vein grazing that one spot over and over.
“Hngh- Oh my god, Toru. S’too much!” you pull away to whine.
“Open your mouth.” he murmurs raspily. As if body on auto-pilot, your mouth opens, tongue lolling out for what he was about to give.
Satoru’s stream of spit is warm on your tongue, making you clench around his merciless cock. He lets out a drawn-out groan, eyes boring down at you, holding a glint of the same insanity he has when he exorcizes curses, “My nasty girl. Can’t get enough of you.”
You moan at his words, hands reaching behind you to grab on the blindfold dangling on his neck. “Toru more-” you gasp out, your tight grip causing him to bow his head with a groan, cock twitching ferally.
“Fuck! More? You fucking want more?” he groans out, voice wrecked with pleasure.
You let out a yelp as his teeth dig into your neck - hard enough that you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up. Yet, your grip on his blindfold never waves, pulling him closer as he fucks roughly into your snug cunt.
Ass burning at the friction of his pelvis. Pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor. Unforgiving. Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. “Ah! Toru s’good.”
You both cum with strangled gasps. A low keen at the back of Satoru’s throat, and he’s pumping hot ropes of cum into your awaiting pussy. Tears stinging your eyes at your sensitivity, all you know is a wave of pleasure as you ride out your climax on the ramming of his hips and the how full you are of his seed.
His hand still draws hurried, desperate circles on your clit. You squeal at the overstimulation, tears clinging to yours lashes. “Toru- hngh!” you can barely get out the words, his hips slamming into yours mercilessly as Satoru milks his cock desperately on your quivering pussy.
“Shut up. You said you wanted more. You’re gonna get more, my little slut.” he mutters carnally.
Ah, you can’t do this. You were going to fucking pass out.
“One- more.” he moans.
Your thighs clench around him, pushing your plush walls deeper as he lets out raspy whimpers with each thrust. “Hah- hngh.”
“Shit- Toru I’m-” Your climax hits you with a jolt, body twitching in pain and pleasure from the oversensitivity as your cunt flutters around his cock - not even being able to tell when Satoru’s orgasm ends and when yours starts.
You feel a tear hit your shoulder, overstimulation too much for his poor cock as his seed coats your walls once more. It drips out of you, forming a pool on the floor as he pulls out - for only a second before you’re thrown on the bed.
Orgasm-hazed brain barely having time to register what is happening before Satoru stalks towards you from the foot of the bed. Unhurriedly approaching you as you scoot towards the headboard.
Your pussy jumps exhaustedly at the sight of him - eyes darkened and narrowed at you like a predator that has spotted his prey. A devilish smirk stretches across his swollen lips, glossed prettily with spit and slick.
Toru, I-I don’-” you words slur out.
“One- one more, my girl. Please.” Satoru whimpers, throat shot from what transpired just before. His cock twitches, glistening with cum and slick, dripping onto the fresh bedsheets.
As he looms closer, you wonder how the fuck Satoru was still holding up - was this all because of the chocolate? You have half the mind to wonder whether he was using reversed cursed technique to keep you both alive.
You mewl deliriously at the feeling of your legs being thrown on his shoulders. Eyes blown and face flushed your favorite shade of pink, he licks a long stripe up your ankles, voice cracking as he moans sinfully.
Satoru’s flushed tip teases your entrance, dragging along your swollen folds. Fuck. Shit. Maybe you wouldn’t even mind dying if it was with his cock rammed in your snug cunt.
Barely even lucid, he thrusts harshly into you - your tight entrance readily sucking up his flushed tip. You both hiss at the sensitivity. Surely, one of you was going to pass out.
Hand moving to grasp the blindfold around his neck, you pull him to you. Your hamstrings burn in protest as Satoru bends down to attach his lips with yours, moving down until you were folded in half.
Tongue tangling with yours, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, fiery with an intensity that made you unsure if either of you would make it out of this alive.
Heartbeat roaring in your ears, you don’t notice the crack! of the bed and neither does Satoru. Too caught up in desperately reaching whatever number orgasm it was this night.
Moans incoherent, your body convulses, nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back as the bed creaks in protest. A strangled groan leaves his mouth, cock throbbing inside you - or maybe that was your quivering cunt. At this point you really didn’t know anymore.
“Shit- ah! Fuck. I’m- M’cumming. M’cumming. Hngh- cumming!” he whines out, voice ragged and breathing unstable. Delicate tears streak down his face, dripping onto your quivering body below him. Salty.
You can only let out exhausted whines, too fucked out to form any proper sentences.
Hot seed gushing inside you again, it overflows out of you, cunt dripping and too full to take anymore. Yet, Satoru still fucks into you until he sees stars and his poor cock is cumming dry. You can barely even feel your climax, distant tingles and the only thing on your mind being Satoru Satoru Satoru.
The air leaves your lungs as he collapses on top of you. Skin flushed and sticking to yours. Body twitching as his poor cock neverendingly shoots blanks inside of you. Which number was this even?
That’s when you black out.
Floating in and out of dreams of blue, blue skies and mini Satorus running around, you wake up with a start. Well, as much of a start as you could with your entire body aching as if you got run over by a truck - and then an entire zoo after.
Bleary eyes taking in your surroundings, you distinctly realize that you’re spread out on the living room couch.
What happened.
“Hey, you okay?” a hoarse voice sounds from beside you. You could barely recognize it as your fiancé’s, words jagged from…whatever it was before.
“You…are you okay?” you rasp out, raising a brow exhaustedly. Satoru chuckles sheepishly, tenderly smoothing over the blanket placed on top of you. What a change from before - are you sure this is the same guy?
“Well…the wall is crumbling, we broke the bed, and I’m pretty sure my dick won’t work again for the next couple years.” he gets out in one breath. At your silence, he continues “And I think my favorite blindfold is out of commission.”
“...wow.”
“Wow.���
“You lecher, you ate from my secret stash, didn’t you?”
“...”
A few days later, opening the refrigerator, you’re met with a wall of hot pink. A sticky note on top reading in Satoru’s hasty scrawl, “This time you take one too :D”
A/N. Wrote this while watching The Garfield Show.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fic#jjk#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento
yuuji accidentally calls you mom
contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059
“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”
kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.
a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.
so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.
“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”
yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.
“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.
“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”
he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”
there's an elongated moment of silence.
you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.
all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“
“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“
though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”
you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.
kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”
you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.
“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.
yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.
“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!
kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.
“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”
"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."
kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.
though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.
you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”
yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”
kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”
you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.
"you should be nicer to your son, kento."
kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."
you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.
but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.
"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.
kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."
#kento nanami x reader#jjk x reader#nanami fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#kento nanami x you#nanami x reader#jjk x fem!reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 07:55 A.M 」
a little drabble based on this outrageous ask :)) and half-inspired by some lines from the broken ring: this marriage will fail anyway—that's my new roman empire everyone ehe🥹 and who can resist domestic husband!gojo?😋
a part of gojo's love entries
“you’re cheating on me.”
morning breakfast. satoru stopped chewing his toast at your wild accusation, his baby blue eyes blinking rapidly as he processed your words before turning to you and bursting out—
“huh?!”
“last night,” you charged, eyes narrowing in distaste. “i can’t believe you.”
“whaaa?” he tensed up, racking his brain for any indicators that he might have wronged you in any way, until he came across an irrefutable truth—
“wait no, last night, you almost made me lose it in my pants!” even satoru’s face reddened slightly while recounting your nightly tales. “before i busted it inside you. how is it possible that i’m committing adultery?!”
you huffed, looking away from him righteously. “in my last night’s dream, you did.”
. . .
“eh...” satoru blinked again, fully absorbing your words, before stupidly smiling. “what? you dream about me?”
you scowled, picking at your omelette. “yes. about you running away with five bimbos, banging them in a cottage in the middle of the woods, and leaving me here waiting for you like an idiot.”
he burst into uproarious laughter, so loud and crisp it made him wheeze. “what? seriously? you— ahahahaha!”
you threw him an unamused look, mildly irked.
“hey, wifey,” satoru nudged you, his grin stretching wide in sheer delight. “no one else can make my body react the way it does around you, you know~”
“…”
“this here,” your husband then shamelessly gestured towards his crotch. “—is broken already. my happy friend here can’t get up anymore if it’s not you.”
“…”
“i mean it! you’re the only one who can give me an erection!”
you whipped your head around him, scandalized. “ew! satoru, you—!”
“well, that’s the fact! nothing too embarrassing— we’re married!” he shrugged as you bulged a vein. “besides, shouldn’t you be proud? you've truly got me wrapped around your pinky~”
seeing how you were cutely pouting throughout breakfast, still all giggly, satoru led you back to bedroom to cuddle you.
“there, there, sweets... happy now?” satoru pulled you closer and pat your back, his body still slightly shaking with suppressed laughter.
“hmph.” you put your hands around his torso with pursed lips, squeezing him in return.
“look at this, it’s only when she’s spooked that the wife shows me any affection,” satoru exclaimed with a dramatic sigh. “so, what else did the dream version of me do to you, huh?”
“you bend each bimbo on every surface, lied to me that you’re on a long mission,” you huffed, grimacing as you recalled your dream vision. “you’re the worst.”
satoru still had that dopey grin on this face, and right this second, he thought you were the absolute cutest, because how could you think that he is capable of looking at anyone else the way he looks at you?
you have his heart, body and soul already. hasn't he told you that?
“is that so, poor you,” he retorted with mock sympathy. “but since you’re so worried...”
and suddenly, he rose from the bed with his arm around your back and another under your knees, cradling you in a princess carry. and with the smuggest smirk he whispered—
“...well, i have to make it up somehow. how about i bend you on your vanity desk now, hmm?”
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk crack#gojo satoru#satoru x reader#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fluff#gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader fluff#gojo fluff
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the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)
gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.
warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999 (part of gojo’s wife series)
The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him.
He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with.
Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course.
Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down.
Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered.
At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy.
Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on.
You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on.
“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels.
You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up.
“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”
“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission.
You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”
“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.”
Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice.
His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”
Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”
“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).”
His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late.
He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to.
You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.
You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.
It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”
You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”
“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.
You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”
For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?”
“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to.
He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?”
You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults.
He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”
Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.
He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
It’s a vow he swears to keep.
“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”
He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise.
Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips.
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#satoru gojo#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#arranged marriage#i'm in my jjk phase bye
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𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞— gojo satoru
pairing: gojo satoru x reader
summary: even after you leave the jujutsu world behind, gojo satoru finds himself unable to get over you.
genre: fluff! some angst but happy ending, friends to lovers
notes: inspired by the song "haunt me (x3)" by teen suicide, gojo is awful at realizing his own feelings and dealing with them
wc: ~4.8k
the day that you leave tokyo jujutsu tech is a dull one.
gojo think this must've been months in the planning, especially considering the fact that you're standing with nothing but a backpack slung over your shoulder with the rest of your belongings nowhere to be seen.
(he later learns that they had already been moved to your new apartment, and nanami and shoko had helped you move out over the course of a month.)
he also discovers that he's the only one that hasn't been informed of your departure, especially since he seems to be the only one taken by surprise as you stand by the entrance and say your goodbyes. he wonders if it's his fault for taking so many missions after geto's defection, and he feels his stomach lurch uncomfortably when he realizes that he's been so distracted that he once again couldn't see something happening with one of his friends.
and now you're leaving.
"you have to promise to visit," shoko says, engulfing you in a tight hug. gojo feels his mouth run dry at the sight, and he can't help but feel panicked when you give shoko a soft grin.
"i'll certainly do my best," you respond, reaching over to tug on her hair. she sighs in return, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you gently as she stares you down.
"answer your phone, ok? you can't ignore my texts now that you're leaving."
a quiet laugh leaves your lips at her words, and you nod reassuringly before giving her a loud smooch on the cheek and moving down the line. gojo watches you closely as you say your goodbye to yaga, the older man turning away from you to brush a fake tear away from his eye. he presses a soft, floppy doll into your hands before you move away from him, and gojo can see the distinct shine in your eye that lets him know that you're holding tears at bay.
he looks down at the ground when he realizes that he's the only one left for you to say goodbye to, and he can't help the way he tenses up when he sees your shoes come to a stop in front of him. there's a moment of silence during which gojo can feel everyone's eyes on him, and he begrudgingly looks up at you and removes his sunglasses.
if this is the last time he's seeing you, he's going to make sure he remembers every little detail.
there's a sharp intake of breath as you steadily meet his gaze, and you find yourself rendered speechless at the sight of his eyes. gojo can hear shoko cough lightly, and he steels himself before giving you a forced smile.
"so you're leaving," he whispers, his eyes widening slightly when he realizes what he's just said. you seem to be caught off guard as well, eyebrows raising in surprise before giving him a nod. he takes a moment to breathe, aware of shoko's lingering gaze as the two of you face each other. "oh. i didn't know."
"yeah," you breathe, rubbing your arm as you look away from him. "i hadn't gotten the chance to tell you. it seems like you're always off on a mission these days."
"you could've texted," gojo attempts to say jokingly, wincing when his words fall flat. you laugh lightly at his words, recognizing the teasing undertone even if the delivery had been less than perfect. you always seem to understand gojo, regardless of whether or not he wants you to.
"we both know you never look at your phone," you tease back, giving him a pretty smile that he hasn't seen in a while. he chuckles breathlessly at your jab, and he nods his agreement before glancing at shoko.
"neither do you," he shoots back, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile when you follow his line of sight. "you gotta get better at that. can't risk pissing shoko off."
the space between the two of you is filled with uncertain laughter at gojo's remark, and you take a moment to study gojo before taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. he stumbles back a step or two at your sudden action, tensing up when you tuck your face into the crook of his neck.
"i'll miss you," you whisper, your breath warm against his neck. he tries to ignore the goosebumps that rise up along the smooth expanse of his neck, too focused on wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him when he feels you start to step away.
gojo knows that everyone else is watching the two of you, he can feel shoko's soft gaze and yaga's sad look as he does his best to ignore them and bury his face into your hair. there's an intense urge to ask you to stay building up inside of him, and he clamps his lips shut tightly in order to keep himself from blurting out his plea. the two of you remain in each other's arms before you finally take a deep breath and step away, giving gojo a watery smile.
"i'll miss you, satoru," you whisper, looking away and blinking back your tears. "i'll see you later, yeah?"
gojo nods dumbly as you finally walk away, giving everyone one last wave before slipping into the car that's been waiting for you this entire time. it isn't until he sees it disappear from view that gojo realizes that he didn't tell you that he would miss you too.
he wastes no time in slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes, clearing his throat quietly before turning and making his way back inside the building.
a week later, gojo hears that nanami has left jujutsu tech as well, and he can't help but wonder if he'll ever see either of you again.
gojo likes to think that he's matured, even though shoko might say otherwise because she's certain she's right. and also to piss him off.
but the truth is, he's no longer the same spunky, reckless teenager he was before everything went wrong in his life. he knows how to sort of work through his emotions now— in a way he thinks is healthy, he might add, but he can't help but find himself frozen in this very moment. there's a weird ache in his heart, one that he silently notes seems to be brought on by the flurry of emotions he's feeling in that very instant.
he wonders if they're visible on his face. they are.
gojo satoru is the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer in japan, maybe even in the world, and yet he feels like he's been reduced to almost nothing when a familiar face slides into the seat across from him.
five years is clearly not long enough to forget you, gojo realizes, physically wincing at the way his heart seems to race at the sight of you. his eyes meet yours, and he holds steady eye contact with you for a few seconds before ducking his head and quietly excusing himself from the table.
he takes a deep breath to attempt and soothe his rattled nerves as he takes a seat at the bar, squishing himself into the corner so that he's not visible from your table. he orders a soda from the bartender, ignoring the disbelieving look he gets in return before he ambles off to prepare the drink.
gojo has barely taken a sip of the soda before shoko is crashing into his side, settling onto the barstool next to him and digging her elbow into his side as she calls her order out to the bartender. neither of them speak until shoko gets her drink, and she immediately lifts it to her lips and takes a big sip that makes gojo shudder with disgust.
"surprise," shoko says dryly, glancing at gojo as he spares a look in your direction. he notices three extra people at the table, and he lets his shoulders drop in relief when he sees familiar heads of blond, white, and brunette.
"yeah, quite the surprise," gojo huffs, taking another sip of his soda. he stares at shoko until she turns to face him, a mildly displeased look on her face as she takes in his furrowed eyebrows. "i didn't know you still kept in contact with them."
"i didn't know you didn't still keep in contact with them," shoko shoots back, raising an eyebrow as she studies gojo's conflicted expression. she continues before he can gather his thoughts, earning a loud sigh as she speaks. "you kept in contact with nanami just fine. in fact, all he does is complain about how you never leave him alone."
gojo swallows harshly at shoko's words, and he thinks long and hard before deciding to remain silent for the time being. he can't find it in himself to admit that the thought of reaching out to you hurts him more than he cares to admit. you had left the jujutsu world, the one part of your life that included him, behind. even if he wanted to, gojo doesn't think he can find the words to express how he's feeling.
"switch seats with me when we get back to the table," gojo says suddenly, pausing to slurp up the rest of his drink. shoko glares at him when he sucks on nothing but air, the obnoxious sound causing her to reach over and flick him in the cheek. gojo grins widely when she hits nothing but air, his infinity protecting him from shoko's incredibly violent wrath.
"no," she says, getting off her barstool and picking up her drink. gojo realizes too late that she's heading back to the table, and he scrambles after her in an attempt to get there before her. his attempts are fruitless, and he finds himself awkwardly standing behind shoko's seat as she takes her place two chairs down from you.
gojo acts normal when everyone turns to glance at him, and he stiffly makes his way back to his own seat, avoiding your questioning gaze as he sits down. it takes a second for the table to break out into chatter again, and gojo doesn't hesitate before turning to the seat next to him and striking up a conversation with utahime. he notices mei mei grab your attention out of the corner of his eye, and he can't help but sigh in relief as he focuses on utahime once again, disregarding her annoyed look.
gojo is certain that ignoring you is much easier than dealing with whatever the hell is causing him to feel like he's dying inside.
the days that follow the dinner at the restaurant are unnervingly quiet, and gojo finds himself sitting on his couch and wondering if he should reach out to you.
there are no missions to take at the moment, and gojo is left with nothing to do but stare at his phone and wait for a message that never comes. megumi takes note of his sullen behavior, and although a part of him is curious about gojo's sudden attitude change, he doesn't think he actually cares enough to ask the white-haired sorcerer about what seems to be bothering him.
a few more days pass before gojo ultimately decides that reaching out to you would do more harm than good, especially with the way he completely ignored you at dinner. he's given no time to even think about changing his mind, and the very next day, he's being sent out on yet another mission.
he eventually falls into the same monotonous routine his life had prior to his run-in with you, and he wonders what would've changed if he had decided to take the chance and reach out the day after seeing you. there's a dull ache in his chest that seems to linger even after he makes his decision, and it only seems to get worse whenever shoko deigns to share updates about you with him.
the two of them know that gojo is more than grateful for her updates, even if he refuses to ask about you outright. he's certain that if he were to fully give into his curiosity that his heart would feel like it's giving out on him, and not even shoko's displeased looks are enough for him to get over himself and just ask you directly. he's even stopped pestering nanami, too afraid that he would give in and ask him questions about you.
it isn't until a long time passes (a year and a half; he's kept count) that gojo thinks he's finally getting over it— getting over you. his heart finally starts feeling lighter and breathing becomes a little bit easier and he can't help but think about how silly he was being, staying hung up for so long on somebody who probably never even thought twice about him.
they're small improvements but they're still improvements, and gojo reminds himself of that even as he walks down the busy streets of tokyo. he breathes out a sigh of relief as he slips into the local pharmacy, the cool air conditioning a welcome reprieve from the sticky heat outside.
he mumbles to himself as he moves through the aisles, scanning the shelves as he looks for children's allergy medication. the sudden weather changes had affected megumi and tsumiki in a way none of them had expected, and gojo was left alone to deal with their pitiful sniffles and soft complaints.
"allergy meds," he whispers, reaching out to grab a box only to put it back when it's not the one he's looking for. "there's so much cough syrup, where's the aller—"
"gojo?"
so maybe he hasn't improved, gojo thinks to himself as he freezes up at the sound of your voice. he holds his breath as you approach him, and he squeezes his eyes shut when he feels your sleeve brush against his.
six and a half years isn't enough to forget about you either, it seems.
"it's been a while, huh?" you ask, giving him a soft glance before looking at the shelves in front of you. there's a light hum that escapes your lips as you bend down to grab something before straightening up and holding out a box in your hand. "allergy meds, right?"
gojo nods silently as he takes the box from you, quickly scanning the text on it to make sure it was the right brand. there's an awkward silence as he thinks about what to say, and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind when you turn your face away from him.
"it's not for me!"
a noise that gojo thinks might be a giggle leaves your lips at his proclamation, and he mentally kicks himself for starting up a conversation with you.
"it's for megumi, right?" you ask softly, unaware of the way gojo's eyes widen at your question. "that zenin kid you took in?"
when you notice gojo's shocked look, you hastily ass onto your statement. "shoko told me about him when i asked about you."
'shoko told me about him when i asked about you.'
gojo thinks he feels his head spin when he hears those words come out of your mind. he does his best to remain calm, reaching out a hand to lean against the shelf comfortably and wincing when he instead knocks down a row of the cough syrups he had been studying earlier.
"uh, fushiguro, actually," he mutters, doing his best to focus on straightening out the products he knocked down. "his dad took his wife's last name or something like that. but yeah, the medicine is for him and his sister."
he finds himself shuffling awkwardly as you look down at your watch, eyes widening slightly when you take note of the time. he watches as you turn to face the shelf behind you, quickly plucking some eye drops off the shelf before turning back to him.
"i have to go, i'm running late for a meeting," you say sheepishly, giving gojo a soft smile. he gives you a half-smile in return, accompanied by a lazy wave as he waits for you to leave. you stand in front of him for a second, hesitating slightly before leaning in and wrapping your arms around him in a quick hug. gojo tenses up in your embrace, his breath catching in his throat and hands freezing mid-air before he hesitantly places them on your back. you pull back slightly after a few seconds, looking up at gojo with a stare that makes his heart feel like it's about to beat out of his chest before you address him once more. "it was nice to see you. we should catch up sometime."
you're gone with a smile and a wave, quickly paying for your eye drops before darting out the door. gojo remains in his spot for five minutes after your departure, only moving when he sees the amused look the cashier seems to be giving him. he doesn't speak as he pays for the allergy medication, and he hastily makes his exit back into the stifling heat. he starts walking down the street as he tucks his change into his pocket, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when his fingers brush against a piece of paper that hadn't bee there before.
there's an annoyed grumble from a passerby when gojo suddenly stops in the middle of the street, his fingers clutching onto the paper that contains very familiar handwriting.
'can't wait to see you again! :)'
the line is followed by what he assumes to be your phone number, and gojo can't help but wonder when you had the chance to write the note. he begins moving down the street again, his steps sluggish as he hesitates near a trash can. before he can think any harder, he lets the paper flutter into wastebasket, only pausing for a brief second before moving away.
not seeing you over the past year and a half made his heart feel lighter, yet all it took was a five minute interaction with you to make his heart feel worse than it ever had before.
the world loves to play cruel jokes on him, gojo thinks.
the past two years have been a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty, and he's had no time to stop and think about you while dealing with geto, sukuna, and the emergence of the cursed spirit that calls itself mahito.
if he really thinks about it, he's had no time to sit and rest. from geto's attack to yuuta's training to megumi's missions to yuuji's interesting choice that led to him eating sukuna's finger, he's had no time to sit and truly enjoy the little things life has to offer.
(not that he's ever had the time. the life of a special grade sorcerer is a busy one, but gojo can't deny that things weren't always as complicated as they have been the last couple of years.)
so when yaga tells him that nanami is returning to jujutsu tech, gojo thinks that it's the perfect time to let yuuji learn from someone other than him while he takes care of some unfinished business. what he doesn't expect however, is to see you standing next to nanami, a pretty smile on your face as you greet yaga with a hug.
ten years. ten years and somehow, you still manage to make gojo feel the same way he did way back then.
there's something wrong with him, he thinks, especially because it's starting to seem like he's cursed to always somehow coexist with those he cares about without ever fully being a part of their lives. there's no way he can turn around and pretend he never saw you, not with the way yaga is already yelling at him to go over and greet the returners.
gojo wonders why this happens every time he sees you. he doesn't know how to label what he feels whenever you pop up in his life, and it isn't until you give him a hesitant greeting— your tone shy and awkward after receiving nothing but radio silence from him— that gojo thinks he might finally know what it is he feels for you.
and when the thought of him being in love with you crosses his mind and makes him feel like he wants to die, all he can do is tamp down his swirling emotions with a goofy grin aimed at nanami.
"nanami! what a pleasure to see you here," gojo sings, immediately pulling the blond man into a reluctant hug. he gives you a polite nod in greeting, and he can't help the way his heart sinks when you nod in response and look away.
"likewise," nanami replies, his tone strained as he pulls away from gojo. he fixes his shirt as he steps over to you, and the two of you stand silently as you wait for yaga to speak.
"introduce them to yuuji," yaga says, turning around and heading back towards his office. "and don't cause trouble. i mean it, satoru."
gojo giggles at yaga's words before clapping his hands and motioning for the two of you to follow after him, leading you down a series of hallways before you come to a stop in front of an empty room.
"yuuji! there's someone i'd like you to meet!"
you're taken slightly aback when your eyes meet bright, brown ones, and you can't help but stare as a teenage boy with pink hair comes to a stop in front of you and nanami.
"this is nanami kento!" gojo all but yells, once again slinging his arm around nanami's shoulders and swaying him back and forth. the boy, yuuji, looks at nanami curiously, his eyes focused on the glasses perched on his nose. he has no time to speak before gojo is introducing you as well, his voice softer than it had been when introducing nanami. yuuji's eyes sparkle as they shift to you, and all of a sudden he's breaking out into a boyish smile that only serves to remind you just how young he really is.
"woah! i didn't think you were actually real!" he proclaims, earning a strained laugh from gojo. "when gojo mentioned you he said you were really p—"
the rest of his words are muffled, gojo's hands clamped tightly against his mouth as he pulls yuuji away from you. out of the corner of your eye, you can see nanami staring at you, and you only give him a shrug in return as gojo pats yuuji's head and lets him go.
"you'll be following them around on missions," gojo finally explains, pushing yuuji towards you and nanami. "they're both grade 1 sorcerers so don't worry, you'll be safe! now if you'll excuse me, i have to go."
gojo's out of the room before either of you can breathe out a goodbye, and you tense for a second before excusing yourself and following after him. he hasn't gotten terribly far, but his long legs give him the advantage of staying ahead of you even as you start jogging lightly in an attempt to catch up to him.
"gojo!" you call out, huffing lightly when he ignores you and turns a corner. "hey! gojo, wait! satoru!"
the sounds of his given name has his steps faltering, and he reluctantly turns around when he hears your footsteps getting closer and closer. there's a rigidity to his stance that you've never seen, his shoulders hunched in an almost defensive way as you finally come to a stop in front of him.
"yeah?" he asks, an uncomfortable grin settling on his lips as he looks anywhere but you. he's grateful for his blindfold in this very moment, the dark fabric preventing him from seeing you in your entirety and preventing you from seeing the way he can't seem to look at you for more than half a second.
"i—," you say, starting to speak and cutting yourself off before looking down at the ground. you sigh softly, shaking your head lightly as your shoulders slump. "never mind. forget about it."
you turn to walk back to the room, and gojo feels like he might actually keel over and die right then and there if he lets you walk away yet again.
"how have you been?"
gojo's question hangs in the air, and he can't help but flinch when you finally look at him again, your eyes swirling with hurt and sadness and other emotions that pass so quickly that gojo isn't sure he could figure out what they were even if he tried.
"you'd know if you hadn't thrown my phone number away," you retort quietly, crossing your arms as he approaches you. gojo breathes in sharply at your words but remains quiet, his throat going dry as he realizes that you had seen what he did that day. "why, gojo?"
gojo weighs his options, vacillating between telling you the truth or spewing a lie. the words seem to spill out of his mouth before he can even think about whether or not to say them, a trend he notices is extremely common whenever he's in your presence. "because you've ruined my life."
okay, so the truth it is.
your eyes widen in hurt when you take in his words, and it takes everything you have to not burst into tears on the spot. "oh, i see."
"wait," gojo says, scrambling to fix the situation that just keeps getting worse and worse with everything he says or does. "that's not what i meant."
"then what did you mean?" you ask sharply, your eyes narrowing slightly as you stare him down.
"what i mean is that i think i love you," he says in a rush, ignoring the way your eyes widen in surprise at his admission. he doesn't give you the chance to respond, too focused on saying everything that's been building up for the past decade before he gets cold feet. "you've ruined my life, you know? it's been ten years but it's damn near impossible to get over you. my heart still feels as heavy as it did the day you let, maybe even heavier, and i threw away your number because i didn't see any benefit in reaching out to you. why would i torture myself by keeping in contact with you when i belong to the world you wanted to leave behind?"
"i wanted to leave the jujutsu world behind," you interject softly, taking a hesitant step towards gojo before coming to a stop. "that doesn't mean i wanted to leave gojo satoru behind."
"oh," gojo breathes. he wonders if you can hear how loud his heart is beating in his chest, and he decides that maybe he doesn't care. "does that mean that—"
"i liked you?" you interrupt, nodding your head softly. "or like, i guess. i agree, ten years isn't enough to get over you."
"i was talking about you," gojo mumbles dumbly, earning a shrug in response from you. a loud crash sounds from the direction of the room you had left nanami in, and you give gojo a hesitant look before motioning in the direction of the noise.
"i should probably go and check that out," you say quietly, a smile twitching at the corners of your lips. "y'know, make sure that nanami is okay."
"um, yeah. yeah that sounds reasonable," gojo says, his mind still focused on your impromptu confession.
"i don't think this conversation is over yet," you continue, breathing out a laugh when gojo nods in agreement. he jumps slightly when you take his hand in yours, slipping a piece of paper into in before tugging him down to press a kiss to his cheek. "let me know when you're free, yeah? maybe we can get dinner or something and talk."
"are you asking me out on a date?" he asks cheekily, doing his best to compose himself.
"maybe i am," you say slyly, squeezing his hand once before letting go. you turn to walk down the hall, only pausing to look at him over your shoulder once before you turn the corner. "don't lose my number this time, okay?"
gojo chuckles at your words, nodding in agreement as he gives you a lazy salute. "i wouldn't dream of it."
it isn't until you're out of sight that gojo realizes his heart feels the lightest that it's ever felt in years, and he finds himself once again wondering when you had gotten the chance to write the note.
reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading !!
#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk imagine#gojo imagine#jujutsu kaisen imagine#gojo satoru imagine#satoru x reader#gojou x reader#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo imagines#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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One night stand
Summary: y/n is forced to do some after hours training with König
🎀Warning🎀: 18+NSFW, Oral sex, raw sex, breeding, rough sex, fluff, slight angst,praise/degradation kink, size kink etc…
ClingyKönigxreader💗
Part 2.
Part 3
Word count: 4.k
“That was good but you’re leaving yourself open.” A gloved hand takes hold of your wrist. He lifts both arms, protecting your face. Your eyes dart up catching a brief moment of eye contact before he quickly looks away. Green. His eyes were green, you hadn’t noticed till now. König was sweet but he made sure to keep his distance from people—the fact that you were this close to him at all was a shock. Sgt. Ghost didn’t take kindly to your recent mistake on the last mission. He doubled your workload and put you on probation, because most of the Barracks were close friends of yours, he assigned you the quietest person on the team. Now you and König spend three hours a day training after hours. While your peers train together, you're mopping floors and cleaning toilets. Ghost doesn’t let you train during work hours in case your colleagues distract you. This was a punishment and he made that clear. “I’m sorry you have to do this with me everyday. This is my punishment, you shouldn’t have to suffer on my behalf.” He shakes his head at your apology.
“I don’t mind…I know how Ghost gets.” He places both hands on your hips, rotating your body. The truth is he really didn’t mind, most days he looked forward to seeing you. “Keep your core strong.” He instructs. His fingers travel up the curves of your body as he repositions you. His large hands warm up your waist as ungodly thoughts intrude your mind. The mask made it impossible for you to read his emotions, any expression came from his eyes (which he often hides). The only change you could see was the way his breath hitched as his finger accidentally grazes your breast. He was always so respectful when touching you, the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. Once your body is angled correctly he lets go, taking a few steps back. It almost seemed like he was avoiding the closeness. “Now attack me and defend.” He orders. You lunge forward —jabbing left, right,left,right. He blocks every punch effortlessly, guarding his face. He dodges, dipping low and charging at you. His arms wrap around your thighs hoisting you up. Your fingers interlock beating down on his back, trying to break his iron grip. He stumbles, arms loosening just enough to break free. Your feet hit the ground, König grunts as your fist connects clean with his jaw. “Uhn that one actually hurt…good job.” He waves a hand of surrender while rubbing his cheek through the mask. You run over to help. “Are you alright I’m so sorry-“ his hand shoots out, snatching your arm, spinning you. His solid arm tightens around your neck trapping you in a chokehold. His breathing is shallow, body tensing as your ass presses against him. You reach up and caress his forearm. He hadn’t realized just how small you were compared to him till now, his body engulfed the entirety of your frame. He notes how perfectly you fit in his arms and how easy it’d be to break you. Your head rests just below his pecs, the smell of your hair product wafts up his mask, he inhales the sweet scent. His bicep flexes, tightening his grip, your eyes flutter and a quiet moan falls from your lips. You loved that light headed airy feeling of being choked.
“N-never let your guard down.” He let’s go, gently pushing you away, putting a giant gap between the two of you. “Even if you think someone is done, be prepared to attack…” he trails off getting distracted by how sexy you look after an intense workout. How fast your breathing is, how your hair is messy with sweat, how your lips part as you catch your breath. He wanted to be the one to work you out.
“Oh whatever you cheated .” You laugh squatting down as you catch your breath. König crouches, grabbing his flask from the ground. His large, veiny hands twist the top off in one swipe. Unconsciously, he lifts the bottom of his mask to drink, showing you a glimpse of the lower half of his face. His jaw tenses, a trickle of water spills down his chin as he swallows. His adams apple bobs with each gulp. You gawk at the scene in front of you, thinking it has to be a daydream.
“Water?” He holds the flask to you.
“S-sure.” You ease to a sitting position on your knees reaching for the bottle. You stare at the rim that just grazed his lips. Does this count as an indirect kiss? You think. He watches you place your lips in the exact spot he’d drank from, flushed with excitement. He wonders if your lips were as soft as he imagined they’d be. How they’d feel melding with his…how they’d feel wrapped around his dick. He doesn’t dwell on it too long, knowing that would never happen and that you didn’t see him that way.
“Have you eaten?” He asks, looking at you with big green eyes.
“Sergeant told the cafeteria to only feed me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, so I haven’t eaten anything of value.” Your stomach grumbles on que.
“You must have really gotten on his bad side huh?” He offers you a hand,helping you to your feet.
“Unfortunately.” You dust off your pants and begin collecting your belongings.
“Since we wrapped up a bit early, how about I take you somewhere you can get real food.” He offers, packing his duffle bag.
“You know how tight ghost keeps the kitchen locked up…” you say with an annoyed tone.
“Who said anything about the kitchen?” His voice sounds mischievous.
“You don’t mean-?” You shake your head, stuffing your hat and jacket in the bag.
“Come on, he’ll never know I’ve worked with him long enough to know his blind spots.” He tilts his head expressively.
“Fine but if we get caught, you ordered me to go.” You hike your bag onto your shoulder, walking past him. He smiles behind you.
~
“Puedo pedir dos margaritas?(may I have two margaritas) Sí…un bistec nacho y un burrito de pollo(one steak nacho and one chicken burrito)Eso es todo, gracias(that's all thank you).” He says expertly, the waiter nods thanking you before going to pin the order up.
“Wow I’ve been deployed here longer than you and my Spanish is still choppy.” You toy with some lime slices on the table to keep yourself busy. König watches you closely, an amused look in his eye.
“I can speak a few languages but I’m not good at them all.” He looks you up and down, the lights from the club area illuminates your skin. Your hair is pulled in a now messy bun. Cute strands stick out from your training session. He is especially drawn to your lips, the way you lick and nibble your bottom lip when you’re nervous. His eyes dart away when you feel his gaze lingering and look up.
“What other languages do you speak?” You stare out into the dance floor, watching the locals swing and jump to the music. They looked carefree and happy, it’d been so long since you’ve felt good or even had a good time. Ghost saw a lot of potential in you so he stayed on your ass 24/7. Tough love is what he liked to call it.
“German is my first language.” He reveals.
“German? That’s so cool , say something in German.” He chuckles at your excitement.
“Ich möchte dich über diesen Tisch beugen und dich dazu bringen, mich ganz zu nehmen (I want to bend you over this table and make you take all of me)” he leans forward, green eyes boring into you as he says this,making sure you can hear him over the music. You had no idea what he just said but it made your thighs clench under the table.
“W-what does that mean?”
“I’ll tell you one day.” He shrugs. You toss a lime, it smacks his vest with a small thud.
“I thought friends don’t keep things from eachother.” You tease. The server brings out two large glasses with salted rims, there was no way you could finish this entire thing. He places the margaritas on either side of the table along with straws. König tears open his straw taking a long pull from his drink.
“Whoa it’s strong.” The fruity syrup barely covered the 3 shots of liquor . You indulge, sucking a mouth full of the frozen drink. It tastes strongly of strawberry slushie and tequila, the salted rim balances all the flavors with a sour finish. The alcohol must have been hitting him pretty fast because all he could imagine is him being that straw. How good the inside of your mouth must taste and feel.
“You’re right…I see why everyone is having such a good time.” You joke, taking another sip. A hearty laugh rumbles in his chest, he loved the way you always spoke your mind. It’s one of the qualities that always got you in trouble with ghost. Nothing made him laugh more than watching you stress ghost out with your witty personality.
“I guess we’d better join the party.” He raises his glass for a toast before chugging half.
The server brings out hot plates of food, everything looked and smelled amazing. Your stomach growls at the sight of real food, the liquor (coupled with only eating sandwiches for a week) takes effect making you absolutely demolish your burrito. König shyly slips a few chips under his mask, he never ate around people since it usually required the mask to come off.
“This is soooo good.” You say having another bite.
“I love this place. I come here often.” He slides in another chip.
“I thought we weren’t allowed to leave base unauthorized or maybe that’s just me.” Ghost had a tendency of giving you extra rules for your troublesome rap sheet.
“We aren’t but if you don’t get caught, did it ever happen?” He laughs, taking the final sip of his drink.
“And they call me the troublemaker.” You say glancing at the dance floor again.
“Do you want to?” He asks.
“Want to what? Dance?…no I don’t uh I don’t dance.” You dismiss quickly.
“ I’ve seen you knock grown men out y/n, dancing can’t be much harder than that.”
“You know you’re much more social than usual.” You observe.
“Only when I’m with you.” He grabs your hand leading you to the crowd.
The music thumps with bass, shaking the ground beneath your feet. A sexy song plays through the huge speakers near the DJ station. People couple up, swaying their bodies to the beat. König slips an arm around your lower back pulling you close. You struggle to find the tempo, moving left to right awkwardly. He takes your hand, spinning you around. His eyes trace the line of your body before pulling you back into his chest. You giggle at how ridiculous you look compared to his smooth rhythm. Your foot slams down on his toe as you try to find the beat “I’m so sorry! I’m so bad at this maybe I should sit-“
“Let’s try this instead.” His knee forces your legs apart, giving him control of your movements. The feeling of his thigh pressed firmly against your heat makes your head spin.
“Follow my lead.” He commands.
His waist sways back and fourth, rocking your bodies in unison. You copy his actions, grinding your hips together, the grip on your waist tightens. The fabric of your pants rub creating friction between your legs, his cock reacts to the closeness, beating as if it was dancing along with them. finding the rhythm, your body starts to move on its own.
“Scheisse (Shit)” he groans as you turn around and twirl your ass on him. His head falls back as you start to swirl your hips down and back up slowly. His big hand slides over your stomach holding you as close as possible, his rock hard member strains through his thick camo pants. Your eyes close as you grind into him, his finger grazes the exposed skin peeking from under your shirt. He trails that same finger up your torso, between your breast and up your neck. His hand rests at the base of your throat keeping hold of you as your bodies whirl around the dance floor. He spins you back around to face him, for once he demands eye contact and you’re the one shying away. You stare at the floor, giant hands cup your face pulling you to meet his feverish gaze.
“Don’t look away from me.” König’s voice sounds different, More rugged. His shoulders hunch as he leans down to your height as he speaks. “Bitte komm mit mir nach Hause” he whispers in your ear.
“What’s that?”
“Please come home with me.” He breathes.
~
“How the hell did you convince Ghost to let you room by yourself ?” You ask, stepping past the threshold.
“ My social skills and big personality helped with that.” He jokes sarcastically. König wasn’t required to room with anyone thanks to his close connection to the sergeant, leaving the two of you completely alone in his quarters.
“Well I guess if you don’t talk much there isn’t much you could say to get in trouble.” You ponder.
“Yeah you should try it.” He chuckles at your shocked expression.
“Try what exactly?” You ask appalled , holding your chest dramatically.
“Not talking. That mouth of yours is dangerous.”
“Give me one example where I said something worth getting punished for.” Your arms cross.
“If I recall correctly you said and I quote ‘why would I listen to a dude named Simon?’ ” he says in a high pitch voice mimicking yours.
“First of all he wasn’t supposed to hear that, wrong place at the wrong time on his part and secondly Simon is a funny name, the jokes practically write themselves.” He pauses for a second before doubling over with laughter.
His keys clatter on the kitchen counter as he wipes his tears of laughter away. You set your bags near the couch and sway on your heels nervously, unsure whether to sit or stand. Strong hands settle on your shoulders working away the tension you’ve been holding for god knows how long. Your head rolls back into his touch, he kneads your muscles like dough relieving any and all stress. “That feels so good, König.” You groan, closing your eyes.
“Come with me.” He grasps your hand leading you down a hall , stopping at a closed door. He twists the knob revealing a very plain bedroom, a queen sized bed with black sheets, a desk, and stacks of paperwork are all that decorate the space. There are two extra doors, one leading to the closet and the other to the bathroom. You laugh at his clumsiness. He’s clearly tipsy as he staggers to the door.
He slips his gloves off and opens the cabinet below the sink, rummaging around and pulling things out onto the bathroom floor. Finally, he emerges with a pink topped bottle. “Baby oil” the label reads.
“Strip.” He says, unbuckling his bulletproof vest and laying it on the desk chair.
“S-strip?”
“Yes, so I can massage you. That is what you want isn’t it?” He removes his thick camouflage jacket revealing the snug black material of his undershirt.
His muscles bulge veiny and tight, stretching the fabric. It was true, you did want his hands all over you. Ever since you two started training together, you found yourself fantasizing about being split by that monster of a man. Your hands fumble with the buckle of your pants as you kick your boots off. He advances, towering a wapping 6'6”. You shift with anticipation, looking up at him with gleaming eyes. The tips of his fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, swiping it over your head. Your scrunchie is taken along with it, freeing your hair (for my fellow natural haired girlies let’s just say you have braids or a wig). If you’d known you’d be stripping for someone tonight, you would have picked sexier underwear. He’s silent as he takes in how perfect you look in your plain gray and white bra/pantie combo.
“Lay on the bed.” He instructs unscrewing the baby oil top.
You listen, climbing up into the comfy cotton sheets, using your arms as pillows. He’s flustered at how obedient you are, since that wasn’t a side of you he’d seen before. The military couldn’t break you…but he would. He stands at the side of the bed admiring every dip and curve of your figure. Flipping the bottle upside down, Slick cool oil slides down your back. His thumbs rub circles along your spine, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. His long fingers slip under your bra strap, he huffs in frustration.
“In the way-“ he unclasps it skillfully. Your face is burning with embarrassment, there was no way you were laying in Königs bed half naked. A shiver runs down your leg as he slides down the elastic waist of your panties. He begins working and kneading your lower back, squeezing the plush skin of your ass. The crotch of your panties were soaked, leaving a huge wet spot on the gray fabric. He inhales, your arousal was palatable, his dick pulsates at the scent of your glistening womanhood. Your panties glide down over your ankles as he slides them off, tossing them into the corner.
“Flip over.” He grunts, tossing you around.
Your breast fall from the unclamped bra, hard nipples on full display. König doesn’t hesitate yanking and pulling you to the edge of the bed.
“On your knees.” His voice is breathy and low.
your eyes stay on him as you shift onto your knees, hands holding your chest shyly. Gently he pulls them away, slipping the straps down and off your arms. Because of his height, you’re at perfect eye level with his throbbing erection. His breath hitches as your elegant fingers undo the zipper of his pants, his earthy green eyes flutter. His big hand cradles your cheek as he watches you work to release him from the shackles of those annoying pants. His cock burst free, slapping his lower stomach. Although you couldn’t see his face, the state of his arousal was evident. Veins root from base to tip, beating rhythmically along the upward curve of his sex. His tip is blushed and oozing with pre-cum, his breathing accelerates with need. You run your tongue up the length of his rock hard shaft, he grunts head lolling back. Your lips wrap around the tip, tongue swirling and teasing him before opening nice and wide.
“Scheiße (Fuck)” he pants, caressing your cheek pulling your warm wet mouth down on his cock. It was even better than he’s imagined, his hand sets the pace rocking your head back and forth. Tears prick your eyes as he begins moving faster, fucking your throat. Each thrust deeper than the last, his hand moves to the base of your neck feeling how deep you can swallow him.
“You look so fucking pretty sucking my cock.” He wipes a stray tear with his thumb.
You gag as he pushes further, your throat muscles contract around him before he pulls back.
“Oh naughty naughty girl. You almost made me cum.” He teases, lightly pushing you back onto the bed. The mattress creaks from his massive size as he climbs between your legs, peering down at you. Your hand reaches under the mask, he firmly grips your wrist forcing it to the bed.
“Ask nicely.” He orders.
“Can I touch you…please.” You beg.
He releases your hand, it finds the bottom of the mask, sliding underneath to find the stubble of a 5 o'clock shadow and soft lips. Your finger strokes his lower lip, it is plump and warm.suddenly, his mouth opens nipping and sucking the skin of your curious finger. “Ah what are you-“ you moan arching your back. Pushing your hand away once more, he leans down, capturing your parted lips. Your lips dance in perfect harmony, melting into one another. He moans into your mouth, his jaw tenses as your tongue pushes through savoring the flavor that is König. The head of his dick pokes at your slippery slit begging for entry, you can feel how hot he is all over causing your temperature to rise.
“Open up for me, I’m gonna give you everything I have.” He groans, plunging inside with a flick of his hips. Your hands claw at the smooth skin of his back as you stretch around him, his girth almost too much to handle. You cry out as he thrust deeper “Just alittle more baby, you’re taking me so well…s’good s’fucking good.” He pants filling you to the brim. He stays still for a moment letting you adjust to his large size, the pressure in your pussy nearly makes you cum right then and there.
“I feel you twitching around me princess, you can’t cum yet, I’m not done breaking you.” He pulls back before slamming back in, hitting the back of your cervix with each thrust. There is a delicious ache in your belly as he impales you, the curve of his dick reaches places you didn’t even know existed.
“Ah ah s’to big I-I can’t I can’t.” You cry biting the skin of his chest to hold back your screams.
“You’re gonna take what…I…give…you.” He pounds with each word. He sits up pushing your knees to your chest forcing even deeper inside your velvety walls. This position gives him access to your stiff wet bud. With two fingers he spreads your creamy folds watching his dick pump in and out of you. Every thrust his cock emerges more coated than the last.
“Your pussy is so fucking gorgeous , look at that needy little clit.” He flicks your bud, rutting into you with all his strength. His long fingers grab your throat, your tongue lols out as he chokes you. He alternates the pressure taking you up and gently bringing you back down. “That pretty mouth isn’t so dangerous now.” Your quivering walls clench around him threatening to overflow.
“P-please I’m gonna…ah!” He pulls out, gripping your waist as he throws you around, roughly raising your ass to him. Before you can register the change he splits you apart once again, slapping your plush ass, leaving hot hand prints on your skin. Those giant hands push and pull you back on his cock, using your pussy to make himself cum.
“You have such a cute tummy.” He reaches around pressing on your lower belly feeling how full it is with his cock.
“You would make such a pretty mommy.” He praises fucking you faster and harder. That throws you over the edge, your body convulses and clamps down icing his dick with your sweetness.
His teeth clench with an inhuman growl as his rod twitches and throbs before shooting your insides with his hot seed.
~
“Late again huh, rookie? That’s an extra week.” You jump, turning around. Ghost stands over you. It was true last night’s events made it impossible to wake up at 5 am with the other soldiers. You ended up sneaking out of Königs bed in the middle of the night, hoping you could sneak back into your barracks undetected. The mission was success. You slipped into your bed at 2 a.m before anyone could realize you were gone. Unfortunately, that means you overslept, waking up three hours late.
“I was…sick.” You lie scrubbing the bathroom tiles diligently.
“Sick? You were fine yesterday.” He says with a flat tone.
“Must have eaten something bad, all those peanut butter and jelly sandwiches must have taken a toll.” You grunt, rubbing your stomach.
“Next time you’re sick. You report it to me in advance.” He orders.
“How can I predict when I’m gonna be sick?-“
“Don’t question me.” He spins on his heels walking out the bathroom.
“Okay Simon.” You mock.
“What was that rookie?” He calls back.
“Nothing Sargeant!” You exclaim.
He walks away finally, leaving you with the smell of bleach and toilet water. Your arms ache from scrubbing. throwing the sponge in the bucket of cleaning solution, you sit back against the wall thinking about last night. All morning you avoided seeing König, ducking and dodging him in the halls. Every time you thought of him, your face burned with embarrassment, there is no way you could look him in the eye after that. For now your plan is to just lay low in hopes he was too drunk to remember anything. It was nothing. Just a drunken one night stand.
“There you are.” He charges forward looking down at you.
“H-here I am whats up König…do you need a copy of that report-“
“Why did you sneak out last night.” He interrupts.
“Psh me? Sneak out I didn’t sneak out. I just went for a walk…and ended up in my bed.” You reach into the bucket with gloved hands wringing the sponge out.
“Why couldn’t we sleep together?” He asks.
You fly to your feet in a panic “Shhh! What if someone hears you?”
“So what?” He tilts his head in confusion.
“Superior and subordinate relationships are strictly prohibited!” You whisper/yell.
“Right…hm, okay in here then.” He takes your hand leading you into the stall furthest from the door, The lock clicks behind you.
“Can’t this wait till after hours.” You say with an annoyed tone.
“I want an explanation.” His arm rests on the wall above your head.
“This. This is why I snuck off, to avoid whatever this is. Now I’m stuck in a bathroom stall talking about…feelings.” You hold your stomach making a pained face.
“This isn’t funny.” His voice is low.
“You’re right it isn’t but it is complicated .”
“Y/n? You in here?” A voice calls.
You mouth shit, covering what you assumed was his mouth through the mask.
“Yeah! I was just cleaning!” You call back.
“Who were you talking too?” She asks her foot steps advancing.
“No one! Here I come!” You let him go squinting your eyes.
“This isn’t over.” He whispers sharply, moving to the side.
“I can see that.” You grumble walking out the stall to greet your friend.
…to be continued?
#smut x reader#smut#smut fanfiction#fluff#cod modern warfare#call of duty#cod smut#könig x reader#könig call of duty#könig mw2#könig x y/n#könig smut#könig fluff#könig modern warfare#könig#könig x you#ghost cod#ghost fanfiction#ghost call of duty#cod fluff#call of duty fluff#masked men#ghost mw2#könig fanfiction#cod fanfic#codfluff#fanfic#smut fic#konig smut#konig mw2
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enhypen making YOU lose nnn ?
OUUUUHHHHH. this is good. i love this. ur mind needs to be studied
cw! fwb with heeseung, established relationship with jay and sunghoon, riding, oral (f & m receiving), doggy, reader gets called slutty girl, princess, jay brat tamer hehe, hoon is evil, lmk if i missed anything!
이희승 heeseung ᥫ᭡
as you’re heeseung’s number one fuck buddy… well, he’s not very ecstatic about your decision to join the nnn challenge. he thought it’d be okay at first– he has other people to attend to while you’re busy. he actually discovered something new about himself thanks to your personal challenge: he can only go a few days without you. he really did try to distract himself with other hookups but they just aren’t you! no pussy felt like yours, and no one moaned his name the same like you do. so now he has his own personal challenge: to make you lose nnn! he thinks it’d be a piece of cake, really. because have you seen him? how can you resist him?
turns out pretty well, much to his dismay. he disguises his mission as an innocent “wanna watch some movies tonight?” to come over. you, in skimpy top and flimsy shorts that you typically like to wear when staying in. he thinks– knows– he’ll have a hard time keeping his hands to himself. and you’ve always been such a good girl, so you’ll obey him this time again, right?
it starts off with just a hand on your thigh, and even though you give him a side eye he pretends he doesn’t notice, eyes too focused on whatever movie you decided to put on. he notices when your thighs tense each time his hand inches close to your clothed cunt, and it’s so slow– you guys have probably burned through two movies already but heeseung wants to take his time, see how long you can really resist him.
you’re doing too well, and the space in his pants is beginning to tighten up the more you tense your thighs… he swears he can feel the heat radiate off your cunt, he knows you’re wet… you just have to be! by the third movie, he’s done playing around with you and grabs the remote out of your hand, “how ‘bout i give you something else to hold?”
“knew i could get you to cave- ah, shit!” heeseung cursed, hands on your waist as you bounce up and down on his cock. you whine, nails scratching his chest to leave marks that will definitely last for days.
“i hate you!” you squeal at one particular thrust when he bucks his hips into you, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. his eyes are focused on your entrance taking his length in, brows furrowed in concentration as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “heh, not enough or you wouldn’t be cumming on me right now.”
박종성 jay ᥫ᭡
he is such a good sport about it, honestly. he’s an amazing boyfriend, at that! he makes sure he avoids doing anything particularly sexy around you (but let’s be for real, anything he does is sexy). he encourages you and does his best to avoid any particular advances that you put on him during no nut november because he knows that once he reciprocates it, it’s over for you. so you do get a lot of no’s and don’t even think about it throughout the month… but he thinks you’ll thank him by the end of the month.
wrong. you’re extra bratty in particular today (november 27th), trying to tease him and tempt him when you rub your palm against his bulge during game night with the other members. he has a good poker face… for maybe ten minutes until he’s rock hard in his sweats underneath the blanket that you both are sharing. you’re stifling your giggles behind his back, occasionally popping in some commentary of the game so the members don’t get too suspicious on why you’re so quiet.
old habits die hard, so how else is he supposed to act when you’re being bratty?
“you only had three more days left, princess,” jay taunts in your ear, his hand on your back to bend you over the sink counter. you whine, but you shaking your ass tells him exactly what you wanted. “guess this slutty pussy just can’t live without me, huh?”
you nod your head repeatedly, “mhm! can’t get enough- wan’ your cock now~” you moan when he slides down your bottoms, hand slapping your ass in the process. he’s a weak man for you, and honestly he’s been dying without your warmth around him for almost an entire month so he’s impatient as well.
jay reaches for your neck, lifting your head up towards him so that your back is arching. “could’ve just stayed a good girl and lasted the whole month,” he mutters into your shoulder as he slides himself in your tight entrance, both of you releasing a long sigh of relief.
심재윤 jake ᥫ᭡
okay… he definitely set himself up for failure when he proposed that you both do the nnn challenge together. he thought it would be soooo funny and easy! not even twenty four hours passed and he already regretted it, seeing you prance around in some cute shorts that leaves half your ass hanging out and a loose shirt that clearly shows your perky nipples. he really hates having a roommate that is as hot as you– maybe nnn wouldn’t be such a challenge then.
you’re determined to get your assignment done as you sit on the couch next to jake, typing away at your laptop while he merely scrolls through his phone, occasionally (every five seconds actually) staring at your tits through your t-shirt like he has x-ray vision. he clears his throat, mindlessly letting some random tiktok play as he begins to zone out, letting his mind think about him wrapping his lips around your pert nipples as he rubs you through your stupid excuse that you call a pair of shorts.
“you’re hard.” you comment after hearing the same tiktok play for over seven times. “it’s like you want to lose no nut november?” you tease before shifting your attention back to your laptop. jake clears his throat again, shifting in his seat when your words snap him out of his daze. “want to help me lose?”
“slutty girl- ah fuck- can’t say no to some dick, yeah?” jake muses as you choke down on his cock, saliva dripping out from the corner of your lips. you moan around him, your hand around his length tightening a bit at his words that causes him to curse underneath his breath.
you go particularly deep, a small reward for him when his fingers inside you speed up. he has you on all fours on the couch, his long arm reaching your cunt as he scissors his fingers inside of you. if he’s going to lose, he’ll lose with you. “f-fuck, you’re so good ‘n so wet for me, huh?” he taunts, your juices squelching from his fingers and sloppy mouth working on his cock.
“oh, you cummin’ already? roomie… didn’t know you were this sensitive. so cute,” he hums, slowing his fingers down as he works you through your orgasm. but he’s talking as if he isn’t five seconds away from cumming down your throat.
박성훈 sunghoon ᥫ᭡
he thinks it’s cute you want to do the nnn challenge! but he also thinks it’s cute that you think you can resist him for an entire month. the exact opposite of jay– he makes it his personal mission to make you lose. he’s such a bad boyfriend, making you exceptionally horny, especially the first night after you tell him about your little goal to accomplish this challenge. he’s playing with you in bed, the hands on your waist not so discreetly creeping up to your chest. you have to physically detach his hands away from you so you don’t start acting up.
the next morning is even worse– he’s stepping out of the shower and into your shared bedroom with only a towel that is barely hanging on his waistline. your mouth goes dry, your attention completely stolen away from your phone and onto sunghoon. “you sick bastard,” you curse under your breath, but it doesn’t go unheard by your sneaky boyfriend. “you could just… i dunno, lose right now,” he mumbles, going over to you as he nuzzles your neck. you’re doing much better than he thought when you push him away with a stern and determined look on your face.
but in the end, he’s always right. and you give in like a child who’s offered some more playtime if they complete their homework. but he really didn’t expect you to give in when he’s doing something so basic, cooking dinner for you when you come back late from uni or work. but it gives him an ego boost either way.
“can’t believe you got turned on from me cooking,” he snickers as he lifts his head up from in between your thighs. you roll your eyes, your grip on his hair tightening as you pull him back into your cunt. “i-it was the domestic-ness of it, okay? just shut up and make me lose already,” you pout.
he groans, sliding his fingers inside of you with ease, thanks to his own work. “you already did… approximately one minute ago. but i guess i can make you lose twice,” he grins before he latches his mouth onto your sensitive bud.
#enhypen#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen hard hours#enhypen fanfic#enhypen imagines#heeseung smut#jay smut#jake smut#sunghoon smut#heeseung x reader#jay x reader#jake x reader#sunghoon x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen hard thoughts
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𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑
~ inumaki toge // fushiguro megumi ; jujutsu kaisen
✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : at night, you and your sorcerer friend take shelter in an inn room to take care of each other’s wounds
‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, mentions of blood and injuries, making out, a bit suggestive maybe ?? (i’m still tagging it as fluff)
- gumi’s part: 'it’s complicated' friends to lovers, he tends to your wounds
- toge’s part : toge’s aware of your crush on him, you feel cursed energy through his kisses, onigiri ingredients in japanese, he uses harmless words at the very end, also uses cursed speech on you in the last sentence lol, you tend to his wounds
‧₊˚ a / n : wasn’t intending on posting this but anyways, this shots turned out kinda cute so, would’ve been sad to keep them to myself, also putting them together because both follow the same scenario and have many similarities
the reader feeling toge’s cursed speech was largely inspired by this 🫶🏻
also don’t question the fact that they’re in an inn room instead of the infirmary or smth okay just go with the flow bye 😭
• 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
You and Megumi somehow managed to check in the room without much questioning. Entering an inn late at night looking like you just got beat up was definitely something that would raise the front desk lady’s eyebrows, but you figured you had just gotten lucky.
You closed your eyes and sighed, Megumi’s footsteps came closer. You were sitting in the kitchen counter, knees apart from each other so Megumi could stand in between and attend to your wounds just like you had done before with his. His fingers lifted your chin up so he could see better under the room’s dim light. He pressed an alcohol drenched cotton ball lightly over your left eyebrow, making you jolt.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry” he mumbled “I’m almost done.”
Your eyelids opened slowly, finding him close to you, his dark eyes fixed on your wound. You studied his face in the meantime, long lashes contrasting with his pale clear skin, yet blending with his black irises.
“Can’t believe after all this time of being friends we just had our first mission together.”
“I’m guessing Gojo wasn’t sure of what would work well for us”
“That’s not what I mean, I mean we did great!”
He scoffed in slight amusement.
“Yeah, I knew we would”
“You mean you knew because I kicked your ass the last time we sparred?” a cheeky smile appeared on your face.
“As far as I remember, I was declared the winner” he raised an eyebrow
“Small details, truthfully it was a tie.”
“Right…” Megumi decided to cut the conversation, focusing more on wiping dry blood from your skin.
Finally he exhaled, his hand moved away, examining your face carefully. A soft frown appeared on his face as his eyes fell on your lips.
“Did you cut your lip?”
“Oh? Not that I’m aware of, it doesn’t hurt.”
“It’s bloody.”
Megumi’s fingers on your chin tensed up, sliding the cotton ball over your lip and then discarding it. He tilted your head to the right, blinking and squinting. With the same hand he was holding your jaw, he swiped his thumb over the lower lip.
With widened eyes you stared at him, alarm bells suddenly going off in your head and your irregular breathing hitting his skin, his gaze fixed on the way your soft lip molded under his fingertip. Tangled thoughts raced in your head, trying to figure out the sudden change in the atmosphere and the accelerating pace of your beating heart.
“It’s not wounded” Megumi’s voice was barely audible and you noticed the way his body had just gotten as stiff as yours, probably gaining awareness of the context you were both were surrounded by: him in between your thighs, under the cover of dim lightning and the silence of the night, being the closest to one another you had ever been.
Dark eyes wandered over your mouth, following his thumb as it now slid to the other side. Hesitantly, he moved even closer until his lips hovered over yours. The anticipation that filled the room made sure to cut off both your breathing and his. But then, Megumi closed the distance between your mouths, lashes lowering and hidden feelings bursting out into the open. Megumi’s kiss was soft, and you made sure to reciprocate slowly, easing into the unknown sensation of kissing him.
When the kiss stopped he remained still. Your shaky hands slid up his shirt, fingertips grasping the fabric to keep him in place for as long as the sweet burning sensation sat on your guts. You weren't sure of what came over yourself, maybe it was the curiosity of having him as more than a friend. Maybe it was the thoughts that had constantly whispered at the back of your head how attractive you thought he was, the thoughts you had made sure to ignore and so you never acted on them. Maybe it was the thrill of crumbling his aloof and distant demeanor in between your hands.
Maybe it had been all of those things together, but you slightly and eagerly nudged your nose against his. And so he kissed you again, with a deep sigh of surrender and his hands roaming up your thighs. The sounds of kissing filled the kitchen, your tongue sliding across his tongue, his hungry mouth now fighting against your, your fists pulling from his shirt. His fingers squeezed your skin, a breathy exhale left your throat almost becoming a soft whine.
Megumi’s hands then settled on your hips, until he suddenly stopped, freezing in place and then pulling away from you to search for your eyes. You stared back in a bit of a daze.
“What…” the black haired sorcerer tried to form a coherent sentence, but it seemed like his brain for once wasn’t cooperating.
“I…” you cleared your throat, blinking a couple of times “I don’t know.”
He swallowed, trying to find words once again.
“Listen, I…”
“It’s okay” nervously you tightened your grip on his shirt, now anxious of letting him go “we don’t have to talk about this today or tomorrow. We can just… forget it happened.”
Slowly, Megumi nodded.
“We can just let it be… for tonight.”
“Yeah” you pulled him close again, his body relaxed as he followed your movement and searched for your lips once more.
“Yeah, just for tonight…”
• 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄
Toge’s eyes followed you around as you picked and discarded objects from the first aid kit. At first he was annoyed at how much you had insisted on taking care of the wounds your last fight had inflicted, but at a certain point he had stopped complaining and just… stared. Now, you knew Toge wasn’t one to say much, because he couldn’t, but even when he didn’t say actual normal words he also wasn’t one to shut up. There was always some 'okaka's and 'tuna's and he would gesticulate here and there, he just had to let you know his opinion on absolutely everything. But now… he was absolutely silent.
You walked over to the kitchen counter, where he had sat down begrudgingly and now he was just lazily waiting.
“Bend over a little, will you?” you sighed, wet cotton in your hand.
His lavender eyes stared curiously, but he did as you asked and moved closer so you could reach for his face. There was a bloody scrape right next to his brow, product of a bad landing during the fight with the curse. You held your breath to gain courage and put aside your romantic feelings for the boy, then reached to cup his cheek with your left hand in order to keep him steady and started cleaning the almost dry blood.
He winced, a pitiful expression appeared on your face.
“Sorry” your voice softened “I’ll be finished soon, don’t worry, this is the last one.”
You expected him to say something, he would’ve usually just muttered a 'shake' or something, and yet he didn’t. When you were finally done you sighed once again, lowering your hands and grasping the edge of the counter.
“Alright, that’s it, why aren’t you speaking to me?” Toge raised a brow, as if your question was ridiculous to him “don’t look at me like that, you know what I mean.”
He pressed his lips against each other and then shrugged.
“Are you mad at me?” your brows almost touched, his eyes widened.
“Okaka” he immediately shook his head.
“Oh, so now you’re talking” he snorted, finally letting a small smile shine through “there’s something off, I can tell…”
He bit his lip and shrugged again, this time pointing to his head with his index.
“Thinking?”
“Shake”
“About what?”
His eyes seemed to shine in a peculiar way, trying to hold back a smirk. It was almost as if he had been waiting for you to ask that question for a while. Toge pointed at you, made a small heart with his index and thumb, and then pointed at himself. You blinked about twice, blankly.
“You’re thinking… about you and me?”
He squinted and motioned 'more less', then repeated the previous gesture: you, heart, him.
“You’re thinking…” you heart him. Suddenly your eyes widened, a blush rapidly crept up your face “you’re thinking i like you?”
Toge then grinned and nodded enthusiastically.
“Huh” you exhaled nervously, eyes shying away from him “right when i thought i was the best at understanding you seems like i still don’t get what is going on inside that head of yours.”
He chuckled, his right hand searched for his phone in his pocket and then quickly typed something up in the notes app. You just expectantly watched him as he conveyed his thoughts into written words.
“I’m not thinking you like me, i’m thinking i know you like me”
“Narcissistic much?” you quirked one of your eyebrows and he snorted “what makes you think that?”
“Just the way you look at me, and the way you act around me. Panda had pointed it out before but i’m just now thinking maybe he was right”
“I treat you just like all of my other friends!” you looked up at his eyes again, this time in defiance, but he tilted his head, raising his brows in disbelief “alright then, what have i done with you that i wouldn’t have done with anyone else?”
With a smile, Toge rubbed his cheek and then placed his index right on top of yours.
“Blushing?”
“Shake”
“You’re insinuating that I have romantic feelings for you, of course i’m gonna be embarrassed!”
Rolling his eyes, he nodded. Then, he cupped your left cheek, raising your face towards his and supporting your chin with his ring finger and pinky. You frowned, quickly catching up with the fact that he was holding your face in the same way you had done just moments before.
“… I was just taking care of you…” your whisper worsened your blush.
“always”
He chuckled at your shocked expression, the sound waves of his harmless words making you shiver. It wasn’t everyday that he’d risk speaking normally.
“… well, yes, i care for you”
“a lot” you bit your lip, there was no denying that, so you swallowed your nerves and looked away, he snickered “you’re cute”
Once again the surprise froze you, the power in his voice making your body tremble, what he had said made a sweet nervous feeling flutter around your stomach. He leaned in, you held your breath. Toge placed a lovely kiss on your lips, and you delicately but firmly kissed him back, the sliding of his lips on yours enticing and elating. A soft wave of cursed energy flowed through your mouth, but the moment he slid his tongue on your lower lip and you opened your mouth it rose in intensity. You had to cling from his shirt to keep yourself steady, the moment his marked tongue brushed against yours a sharp wave of electricity ran down your throat, pulling a whimper out from your vocal chords.
He pulled back to look at you and you panicked, embarrassed.
“I’m- oh god i’m so sorry!” your face was burning red at that point “it’s just that- i can feel your cursed energy.”
His eyes widened with surprise and worry, hopping off the counter his hands grabbed your shoulders.
“Takana?!”
“I’m fine! I’m totally fine” cupping his face you tried to comfort him, and it worked, he relaxed, but you pulled him closer again, your noses brushing “it felt… really nice…”
You lips searched for his, Toge smirked in amusement to your reaction, but he complied. So slowly, he kissed you again. The feeling of his energy running trough you seemed to make the blood in your veins rush in bliss, pulling sounds from the depths of your chest. Suddenly his hand slithered to the back of your head and he deepened the kiss, the mark on his tongue making contact with yours and making you gasp and jolt against his body. Toge giggled, but caught you in his arms, resting his back on the counter.
“Come on Toge, won’t you have mercy on me?” you complained, Toge shook his head slowly, and by the way he smiled you knew he was about to pull one of his stunts.
“Be louder” his lips immediately crashed back onto yours.
#; fluffy belle#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#megumi fushiguro#jjk fushiguro#jjk megumi#megumi x reader#megumi x you#fushiguro megumi#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#inumaki toge#inumaki x reader#jjk toge#jjk inumaki#toge x reader#inumaki toge x reader#toge inumaki#inumaki x y/n#jjk brainrot#gn!reader
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in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)
BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER
summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.
warnings: heavy angst, one sided enemies-to-lovers-ish, hydra!assassin!reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending, brainwashing, trauma, guns & knives, fighting, implied kidnapping of reader when young, all the feels, misunderstandings, poor attempt at writing action
wc: 4.7k
a/n: sorry it’s been forever but i hope my fellow buckyluvrs are still here <3 i actually wrote this a long time ago but never got around to editing until recently so i guess you can say this is (from the vault) ? inspired by the idea: what-if there was another winter soldier and bucky finds himself in steve’s position this time trying to get you back to him. anyways, i hope you enjoy this one :)
Bucky’s life was a never ending montage of gunfire and bloodshed. It didn’t matter if he was under the clutches of someone else, he still lived through the wars—the lingering smell of smoke and tang of metallic forever ingrained in his senses.
And just when he thought it was finally over—a glimmer of peace at last—it comes and steals that dream away from him.
Like deja-vu, he’s looking at faces that were once responsible for his pain.
On the screen, three Hydra officers stare back at him. All faces identified by Tony’s system. Alive. Last seen in the outskirts of some small country in Europe. Irrelevant low ranking officials that had managed to survive the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and have been hiding and secretly continuing Hydra’s mission underground ever since. Low officials or not, it was one too many.
Bucky freezes in his spot when Tony swipes the screen. The billionaire goes on a rant saying this particular face cannot be identified, which was according to Tony, bullshit because his face recognition system is the best in the world. The rest of the team is arguing and flipping through countless files and internet archives. But Bucky knows. He knows that face and those haunting eyes that he still sees in his dreams.
“Buck,” a voice calls out. “You know her, don’t you?”
He looks up at Steve from his spot, his best friend's face worried and all knowing.
One thing about Hydra was that they were always prepared. They had backups and multiple plans ready, or else how would two heads take its place when one was cut off? Unfortunately for the world, Hydra managed to make another deadly assassin, one whose work was so discreet and nimble that even intelligence didn't know they existed.
You were a ghost story that lived in the shadows of the Winter Soldier. You were another one of Hydra’s prize possessions—less known, but just as deadly.
With Steve’s comment, all eyes are now on Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air and he gulps before he confesses, “I wasn’t the only one.”
The room becomes tense. The war that they thought was over suddenly looms over like an unpredicted oncoming storm. “Jesus Christ, Barnes. You couldn’t have informed us about her earlier?” says Tony.
“I thought,” he says, shifting his eyes onto the ground, “I thought she fell with S.H.I.E.L.D.”
Bucky couldn’t find you anywhere after he escaped their grasp. After he joined the Avengers, he tried once again secretly using Tony’s technology but it was to no avail—it always ended up being a dead end. And for that, he assumed Hydra had put you out of your misery the day they were caught.
But the face on the screen says otherwise. And suddenly, Bucky feels very guilty.
Steve clears his throat, “Well, they were picked up not too long ago heading north. If we leave now, we might be able to find them and stop them once and for all.”
Everyone looks at each other, debating on his proposal. “What the Captain said. Everybody, suit up. Quinjet leaves in ten,” says Tony.
On the jet, Bucky stares off into space but countless questions run through his mind.
Steve walks over and sits beside him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, voice quiet.
Bucky sighs, “I just… I thought she was gone.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”
He looks up, wondering if he should tell Steve the truth. That he’s not brooding about the fact that he concealed you to them. After a moment, Bucky speaks up. “When we get there, let me handle her. Please.”
Steve didn’t know what kind of history Bucky had with you. But judging from the look his best-friend is giving, it’s more than what Steve could understand or even comprehend but he trusts Bucky and so, he gives him a nod. “She’s all yours.”
After scouting the area and tracing the location to a very hidden underground warehouse in the middle of nowhere, they split up. The warehouse was dark and dusty, surely abandoned, but Bucky knew better—it was their facade behind the most sinister of activities. Through the comms, Natasha announces that she has already taken care of all the troops in the West wing. Moments later, Sam reports that he has eliminated one of the Hydra officers. They wouldn’t last long. Hydra didn’t have much resources or time to rebuild—their current empire was weak, they were no match for the Avengers this time.
The only person Bucky’s truly worried about is you. The fact that he trained you, made you into what you were today already gave him the chills. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he was certain that you were still in that killer mindset that Hydra forced upon you.
Step by step, Bucky walks through the quiet hallway, the echoes of his footsteps the only noise. It’s cold here, he notices, which gives him flashbacks to those days in his dirty cell and the cryostasis chamber. Down a hallway to the next, round a corner and another, there wasn’t a single soul in the eerily Eastern wing.
But he spoke too soon, because seconds later, a garrote wire was around his neck. The swift invisible steps and the perfect pressure that was being used to quickly cut off his air supply was all too familiar. He knows this move, he taught this move. You’re here, and you’re dragging him backwards.
Before all oxygen gets cut off to his brain, he jabs his elbow backwards and hits you hard on the rib which releases the hold you have on him and sends you stumbling back. Bucky takes a moment to regain his breath but you’re on your feet again. He looks at you and for a moment he freezes, then you let out a sinister grin. “Nice to see you again, Soldat,” you taunt, before running towards him.
Bucky’s deflecting your punches one after another. Maybe he’s glad he was the one who taught you everything you know because your moves were predictable—if it were another person, there is no doubt they would’ve been on the ground with multiple concussions bleeding out already. You’re ruthless when you do a triple roundhouse kick on him. On the fourth one, he manages to catch your leg and twists it, sending you to the ground with a groan.
How familiar this scene was, Bucky thinks.
Some forty-years ago, Hydra brought a woman into the training room. There was no further instruction than to train you and that’s what he did. He could tell you were well trained already—compliant and pliable. You were good. And you were just like him, injected with a serum that made you a hundred times more efficient and stronger. In just under a year, Hydra would start sending you on missions. Sometimes with him, sometimes alone.
During training, the both of you would spar for hours, leaving each other bloody and bruised, but it didn’t matter to the overlookers, the both of you would heal in a few hours anyways.
Once you pick yourself back up, he pulls a gun out on you. “Stop this,” he commands.
You smirk, “You going to shoot me, Soldat? I want to see you try.”
He clenches his jaw. You continue to look at him, a dark look on your face that shows no sign of true recognition.
His thoughts are disrupted when you tackle him onto the ground. You kick his gun away and pin his arms down as you straddle him. “I’m going to kill you,” you declare, “I’m going to put a bullet through your head.”
When he looks up at you, your eyes are full of rage. Bucky doesn’t know whether that’s the brainwashed version of you talking or the actual you talking—maybe both.
“What are you going to do after you kill me?” he says, irritated. C’mon, please recognize me. “This is all that remains of Hydra. Half the troops are already dead. One of your new leaders is dead. In a few hours, Hydra will be no more. What will you do after that? What are you going to do after you kill me?”
“What does it matter? You’re my mission. I’m going to finish it.”
He groans at your stubbornness that was identical to his Soldier persona.
He says your name slowly. “Get off. You can walk away from this.”
You frown, but he continues, “I know how you feel. You’re feeling helpless.” He clears his throat, “There’s someone behind this version of you. I want to talk to her.”
“What are you talking about?” you utter in annoyance. “Stop stalling.”
He says that name again, with calamity and care. You want to rip out his tongue.
“Let me talk to her. Please.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” you shout, grabbing for the gun that’s strapped onto your waist. “Stop talkin–”
“I was in the cell next to yours. You liked the colour green. You were wearing white when we first met. You always wanted to visit Bucharest. You hated the leaky cold showers in the Siberian facility,” he rambles, trying to remember every single thing about you in a desperate attempt to get your attention so this version of you won’t shoot him in the face.
And for a moment, it works because your hand freezes on the grip of your gun. He takes that moment to flip you over, so you’re under him now, hands pinned above your head. He takes your gun and throws it behind him.
You snarl at him while trying to escape his grasp. “I know you’re under there,” he says. “Please, come through. Please talk to me.”
Your face scrunches in pain, not from him—he would never hurt you—but from the mental warfare that’s currently going on in your mind. You close your eyes as he speaks again. “Listen to my voice, you know me, don’t you? мой милая.”
My darling.
For a moment, your entire body tenses up and then you let out a painful breath. When your eyelids start to flutter open, he finally sees the eyes he came to know and rely on—eyes he came to love.
The both of you are looking at each other unblinking. A scene neither of you expected but always dreamt about.
You break the silence with a whisper of, “James?”
Bucky slowly nods at your disbelief. Finally, he thinks. But such respite doesn’t last long, because seconds later, you hook your foot under his and flip him over and escape his grasp.
There's darkness in your eyes and he can tell that the Soldate is back and the fighting resumes.
You’re chasing him down the twisting hallway and when you catch up, you grab his shoulder and throw a punch to his jaw. He stumbles back and then a voice comes through the comms.
“Just took down the second one.” Steve. “Bucky, how are you holding up? You’ve been quiet ever since we split up.”
He’s trying his best to block your hand, which now has a damn pocket knife. Your quick movements are starting to tire him out. Maybe he taught you too well, he thinks.
“Buck? Bucky. Confirm your status, right now.”
Groaning in frustration, he taps his earpiece. “I’m fine,” he grunts. A second later, “Shit!” he huffs out as you nearly slice his face.
“You don’t sound fine. Is she with you? I’m sending back up.”
“No!” he says, “Don’t send anyone. I can handle her.”
In truth, he’s struggling right now—your stamina has always been better than his—but he’s worried that you’re going to accidentally get hurt and even more agitated when people appear. His main priority was keeping you safe. Fuck the mission statement they talked about back on the Quinjet.
You’re angry—no, you’re extremely angry at him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell. It’s a mixture of pure rage from both the brainwashed and actual you.
He supposed he deserved it. You should be angry. Because for the longest time, it was you and him.
Other than turning you into a ruthless assassin just like him, an unexpected companionship also formed during those hazy in-between moments when the two of you weren’t frozen or on the metal chair getting fried by those machines—during the times when he was just Bucky and you were just you, two unfortunate innocent souls that shared the same suffering.
They weren’t pleasant moments. It was dehumanising. It was getting shoved into draughty cells with nothing but a blanket until it was time to train or time to embark on a mission. Luckily, your cells were next to each other and it made the endless nights a little more bearable. He was a little off-putting at first, but when he yelled at you to stop crying because they would torture you even more for it, you knew he meant well.
During your shared time together, glimpses of your true selves would seldom come up and you would tell each other about the little bits and pieces of a life once known. And the both of you would hold onto each other's memories and stories in case the other forgets.
And whenever they prep the two of you for the chamber due to there being no current missions for the time being, the two of you would look at each other—a look of longing with the secret squeezing of each other's hand before going under.
Despite the absolute awful situation the two of you were in at the time, the both of you were hopeful for the next shared moments together. Because even when all hope was gone, you had each other. And that was good enough for the two of you.
He misses you. So damn much.
“Shut up,” you mutter.
He didn’t even realise he said it outloud. “Well, I do,” he admits, his back hitting a wall.
“You talk too much, Soldat,” you say, creeping up on him. “I ought to cut your throat.”
“I’m sorry I left you with them.”
You halt in your steps and your jaw ticks. In a second, you pounce on him, your knife against his throat. He’s gripping your hand to stop you from continuing your job.
He says your name again. You’re pushing but he’s pushing back just as hard. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “I’m so sorry.”
The desperation in his voice… You glance up at him slowly and he sees the pink forming in your eyes and your trembling lips. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?” you whisper.
He sees the internal war behind your eyes once again. Bucky gulps for a moment before letting go of your hand, trusting that you won’t do any actual harm, and moves his hands so he’s cupping your face, firm enough so you’re forced to look at him. You look into his eyes for a second, then a minute, and for a moment, everything stops. Your breath hitches, because those eyes… those arctic blues… you know them. You fell in love with them many years ago.
A realisation washes over your face, one that Bucky doesn’t miss. You’re back.
The first tear falls. Then the second. “Bucky.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.
You let out a small cry before you press the blade harder against his neck, your grip a vice from his betrayal. He could feel the sharp cold metal pierce through his skin ever so slightly, but he doesn’t try and stop you.
“Give me a reason to not kill you right now,” you grit through tears. “You left me. You left me behind to rot alone. You promised me. You fucking promised,” you say, voice laced with venom and so much hurt.
Bucky’s heart breaks at the sadness of your voice. Because he did promise. There wasn’t much to do in the cells other than throw around false hope. But whenever he told you he was going to escape one day and that he was going to take you with him—it didn’t feel like false promises at all because it wasn’t, and you knew it too.
Until he broke that promise and left you all alone.
“I didn’t mean to,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with them.”
“I waited for you,” you cry. “Day and night I waited for you to come back. Even when they relocated, I waited for you because I knew you’d find me.”
You remember that day clearly. Everyone was in a frenzy when the death of Alexander Pierce broke out and that they could not locate the Soldat. For a moment, you could taste your own freedom because government officials would come anytime now and finally arrest all these criminals. But right when they came, a few Hydra officers managed to escape and took you with them, and when you woke up, you didn’t know where the hell you were. But even then you didn’t lose hope because James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the name you committed to memory, was going to come for you just like he promised.
Until days, months, and eventually, a year came with no sign of him.
You were angry at first, but it slowly turned into worry because what if something bad had happened to him? But what do you know? You were stuck in this building and only went out whenever they spoke those trigger words to you. And you were always under their watchful eyes, giving you no chance to even attempt an escape. Surely he would never break his promise to you so something must’ve happened to him, you told yourself multiple times.
But he was standing here right in front of you. Alive. We’re under attack, your handler said to you moments ago, Kill the Soldat before he kills you.
“You’re a liar. You never cared about me,” you hiss.
Sometimes, it got too much. But whenever reality was a bit too hard to endure, Bucky was there, always reaching his hand out to you through the metal cage, which you took and held tight. And it meant the world to you, that someone cared.
“All those moments, did it even mean anything to you?”
He uses this opportunity to pull your arms down slightly, knife finally away from his neck and his eyes start to sting from his own tears. “They meant everything to me. I care about you.”
You look up at him with a defeated expression and Bucky never wanted to punch himself in the face more. “Then why? Why didn’t you come back for me?”
“I did,” he chokes out. “When I escaped, the first thing I did was go back for you, but the facility had already been raided and there was no one there. I checked every inch of the building.”
Bucky had never felt so scared, because what if the government took you too? They would never understand—framing you as a villain even though that was far from the truth. But there was no news of your capture, so with a breath of relief, Bucky continued to look through other known Hydra facilities.
“I tried my best looking for you, but I also had to be careful because I was a wanted man at the time. When months passed by and there were no clues, I thought that maybe you had escaped. I was in Bucharest waiting for you. Remember how you said you always wanted to go there? I knew that if you escaped, you’d find me there. Even when you didn’t show, I never gave up. Steve… I think I told you about him once—he found me, he helped me and cleared my name. After that, I still searched for you but it all ended up being dead ends. And…” he pauses for a moment, “and so I thought you were dead. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”
He had mourned you and blamed himself endlessly for it.
He knows he should’ve asked for help, but instead, he took this task upon himself until it got too much—because that was the one thing he struggled with the most, asking for help.
When his side of the story finally comes to light, you break into a sob. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, “but please, drop the weapon and let me help you.”
You swallow hard at his confession. He never stopped looking for you. You didn’t even consider how hard it must’ve been for him after everything and yet you’re lashing out on him.
“How are you going to help me?” you say. “I’m a mess. All you have to do is say those words and I turn into a weapon.”
Twelve. Ember. Fragment. Nine. Academy. Order. Frigid. Yearning. Blue.
Those were your trigger words.
“I got you out of your trance, didn’t I?” he says with a gentle smile.
Hydra needed you to rebuild their empire and they relied on those nine words to do so. To them, those nine words were your greatest weakness but one of them, the last one, the one they liked to spit out in vexation, was also your greatest strength—your salvation.
Blue.
You think back, moments prior, when all he had to do was use his voice and all you had to do was look into the blues of his eyes. Hydra can repeat those words all they want, but Bucky would always be able to bring you back.
At that, your grip relaxes and the knife finally drops onto the floor, it’s noise ricocheting off the walls.
“There’s a place called Wakanda and I know someone there who can help you. Her name’s Ayo and she’s amazing. She helped me overcome my words.”
He brings his hands back up to cradle your face and you shutter at the familiar touch—at the calluses on his palms. “And I think you’ll like it there. It’s quiet and there’s so much… green.”
You let out a small laugh through your tears but doubt still fills your mind. “But… all the things I did,” you whimper, “I did such terrible unforgivable things. There’s… there’s so much blood on my hands.”
Sadness flares around his heart. It was all so familiar. He knows the feeling.
“It’s not going to be easy. God knows how long it took for me to believe that none of it was my fault. But let me be the first one to tell you,” he says, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “None of what you did was your fault. You were a victim.” He swallows a deep breath, “There are going to be days where it’ll be too much too bear and there are going to be nights where all those casualties will haunt you,” he admits. “But… but you’ll get there. Someday, you’ll learn to stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.”
And he vows that he’ll help you every step of the way.
You breathe out slowly, digesting all his words. “You can trust me,” he tells you, “I won’t let you down this time. I’ll be here.”
Blinking up at him, the small hesitant part of you so desperately wanted to say, “How can I trust you?” but his eyes were telling you everything you needed to know. Because it was filled with nothing but honour and truth.
He breaks away from you and reaches out his hand. An invitation. You stare at it for a while, then you slowly lift yours and brush your fingers amongst his before grabbing it tightly—a truce of sorts, a promise. He squeezes back in return, a loving smile on his face, just like all those nights many moonlights ago.
Your breath hitches when he pulls you into his embrace, your face burying perfectly into the valley of his chest. He wraps his arms around you in urgency, in fear, almost afraid you’ll slip out if he doesn’t.
“It’s over,” he mumbles into your hair.
Because two floors down an explosion erupts, finishing off the last remaining garrison of troops. Three hallways down, Natasha sets fire to a room that contained the other small red leather book that held those nine suffocating words written in Russian. Outside, the last Hydra officer attempting to flee falls to his knees from an arrow to the chest. And the only hope they had left to rebuild their regime was safely in Bucky’s arms.
He pulls away and uses his thumb to rub gently across your cheek, “It’s over. The war is finally over.”
Now that the worst is over, Bucky’s hopeful. There will be other conflicts to come, that was just how it worked, but this one, the one that held you and him underwater for years was finally over. War always took too much, but this time, it gave something back. Because among the ashes and ruins you came back to him, no more oceans in between.
“What do we do now?” you press nervously. You were taken at a young age and spent years in the Red Room before you were sold off to Hydra. Like Bucky, you’re in the wrong time period, there’s no one to go back to.
There’s so many things you could do, Bucky thinks. You can finally start living the life you deserved, the life that was taken from you too early. He’ll have to explain all this to his teammates but he knows they’ll understand. They treated him so well, there’s no doubt they’ll show the same kindness for you. Then, he’ll go with you to Wakanda, get rid of the words, maybe stay there for a while so you could heal—maybe show you the goats he took care of during his time there.
You’ll probably adjust to the 21st century better than him—you won’t need to start off with a flip phone, that’s for sure. He’ll make you listen to all the great records and watch all the movies you missed out on. There’s so many things he wanted to do with you. He knows you have no memories, no recollection. It didn’t matter, Bucky thinks, he would make new memories with you, ones worth cherishing and remembering. If you’ll have him, of course.
But first and most importantly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about it,” he says, rubbing the grime off your nose.
He grabs your hand and heads for the exit. But before he does, you pick up your knife from the floor and in one quick motion, you spin around and throw it. The knife embeds itself into the wall a few metres away, right next to a prying face. You stand in front of Bucky and stare at the intruder with a murderous gaze and Bucky’s heart races at the thought of you still wanting to protect him after everything.
The blond raises his arms up in surrender.
“Steve,” Bucky says from behind and you briefly recognize that name. You turn around to look at him and he meets your eyes, nodding. You relax your stance.
“Hi,” Steve says, voice slightly hoarse. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
Bucky scoffs at him, as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.
Steve looks at the both of you, then a gentle smile adorns his face. “C’mon, the rest are waiting outside for you both.”
You step forward. This is it. Freedom. A new life. Bucky notices your hesitation as you suddenly stop in your tracks. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes with reassurance. You take a deep breath, then the two of you follow Steve to the exit, leaving behind the smoke and memories of your old life.
Outside, the sun comes up slowly but surely on the horizon, painting the awakening sky a gentle warm hue of oranges and pinks.
A new beginning awaits.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky#bucky barnes
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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 8
Bucky Barnes x Reader
**Read parts 1-7 first for the full effect.**
Summary: You and Bucky go on your first mission since the one where you were exposed to the sex pollen. Only this time, you have a professional babysitter observing you both and a game that neither of you is willing to stop playing.
Warnings: mentions of previous smut and prelude to upcoming smut, profanity, teasing, brief mention of drug use as an analogy, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 6.3k
Author's Note: Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for giving this a read earlier today and convincing me not to scrap it, and for going back through my blog and listing out the warnings that I might've been missing. A true angel.
It’s been 7 days since your chemically-induced lust-filled night with Bucky in the safehouse. 7 days since he had his hands on you, since he was inside you, since he last kissed you. It’s been 4 days since your first partner talk session with Dr. Raynor. 4 days spent wondering what might happen if she comes to a sure conclusion that the two of you really did have sex that night. Will she suggest to Fury that your partnership be terminated? Will she spill the secret to the rest of the team? You don’t even know what you want the outcome to be, but thinking about it puts you on edge.
Meanwhile, you and Bucky have been playing a very dangerous game. After that tense moment in the gym showers on Monday evening, you had a fairly normal team dinner upstairs. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Until the dinner turned into everyone piling into the main living area to watch some movie that Sam insisted was an absolutely necessary nightcap. Somehow, you ended up seated next to Bucky on one end of the sectional. You did a great job keeping your focus on the movie for the first thirty minutes. It wasn’t until Bucky very intentionally manspread on the couch that you felt like you were going to be needing an emergency exit. He made sure that the side of his thigh was pressed against the side of yours for the next ten minutes, and that alone made your body temperature increase to an uncomfortable degree. You tried nudging him with your knee, to get him to scoot away from you, but it only encouraged him to be bolder. He did the typical relaxed-male thing and rested his arm along the back of the couch behind you. The movement enveloped you in his scent and it was too much to handle. You were quick to excuse yourself and not come back to finish the movie. No one questioned it though. You’d had a lot of early nights since you came back from the HYDRA facility mission. Everyone else chalked it up to you recovering from the chemical exposure or maybe jetlag, but Bucky knew what you were doing. Avoiding him. He was having so much fun playing your little game, waiting for you to cave and give into your desires. You were kind of cheating by keeping yourself away from him. That’s not how the game is supposed to be played.
You can’t avoid him today. Today, you’ve both been called in to be briefed on your first partner mission since the HYRDA facility one. Sam didn’t offer many details about it when he first asked you both to be in the conference room at noon today, so neither of you really know what you’re walking into. If it’s anything like your usual missions, it’ll be some breaking and entering or a smash-and-grab type situation. It’s what you and Bucky are best at. Getting in quietly, getting what you need, and getting out. And of course, you’re undeniably good at working together to take down any obstacles along the way.
You step out of the elevator and make your way down the hall to the conference room, arriving twenty minutes before noon so you won’t immediately be thrown into the bustle of a briefing. You always show up early enough to read any mission files that have already been set out on the table for the upcoming op. You don’t like to go into these meetings completely blind. As you scan your palm to gain access to the room, you hear the sound of a chair scraping across the floor as it’s pulled away from the table. Seems like you aren’t the only one who decided to show up early today. You don’t know who you were expecting to find behind the closed door, but it sure as hell wasn’t Dr. Raynor.
“Y/n, it’s nice to see you again.” Her voice is calm and collected, like she isn’t surprised at all that you’re standing right in front of her. You stare at her with a hint of confusion spreading across your face. Are you in the wrong conference room? No, there’s only one conference room on this floor of the compound. She must be in the wrong room. Dr. Raynor can see the wheels in your head turning as you try to figure out why she’s here. She decides to save you the trouble. “I’m observing your missions, remember?”
Ah, so this is the beginning of the babysitting.
---
Bucky wouldn’t say that he’s ever particularly nervous before going out in the field. If anything, he’s more calm than usual. He operates best when he’s under pressure, when he has tasks to complete. He can’t stand doing nothing for extended periods of time. He gets far too consumed with his thoughts when he lets his mind go idle. Yet, today he finds himself on edge. He doesn’t have to think too hard to figure out why, not with Dr. Raynor standing amongst the various SHIELD agents and analysts, watching as you both equip your in-ear monitors and get ready to make the drive to the gala that you’ll be attending undercover tonight. She puts him on edge, and not in a good way like you do. She makes him second-guess his decisions, she makes him more self-conscious. That can be a good thing at times, like when he’s being self-destructive. But in the field? He doesn’t need to be second-guessing himself when both of your lives are on the line.
As Sam drones on, reminding you both of the main tasks to be completed during the mission tonight, your mind is elsewhere. Bucky seems so distant. He’s standing right beside you but he isn’t quite himself. He’s a little too quiet, a little too unfocused. You can’t tell what’s eating at him but you fear it’s the stupid teasing game you’ve both been playing all week. Maybe he let it get to his head.
“Why do I feel like neither one of you are listening to me?” Sam suddenly asks, snapping his fingers around in the air to get your attention. You and Bucky both focus in on him.
“It’s a simple op, Sam. Get in, put on a show, slip into the elevator, plug the device into the computer in the home office upstairs, then slip back out.” Bucky reiterates the plan, proving he didn’t really need to be paying all that much attention. Sam rolls his eyes, holding out a device that looks like a little USB drive. Bucky takes it and drops it into one of the pockets of his suit jacket. He looks good tonight. Who are you kidding? He always looks good. But tonight, he’s dressed in a black suit, complete with a black button-up shirt underneath and a black tie. Of course, he’s wearing his black gloves as well. As Sam tells him how important it is that he not lose that tiny little device, you find your eyes lingering on Bucky’s thighs. His pants hug them just right, exemplifying the toned muscles there and reminding you of how good he looks without any clothing obstructing your view of him. Fuck. You keep forgetting that Dr. Raynor is just a few feet away, analyzing your every move.
It only takes a few more minutes of discussion before you and Bucky are climbing into a sleek black car and heading out of the garage of the compound. As soon as you’re out and onto the interstate, you let out a deep sigh, sinking back into your seat. You’re wearing the tiniest black dress that you own, it’s one of your favorites really. You don’t get many occasions to show it off, so you chose to put it on tonight. You don’t notice it at first, but when you lean back in the seat, your dress rides higher up your thigh and Bucky’s grip on the steering wheel tightens so much that his flesh knuckles turn white on one hand and his vibranium hand nearly leaves a dent. He needs to cool down.
Neither of you have your in-ear monitors on yet. You won’t turn them on until you’re nearing the gala, since it’s a forty-minute drive there. There’s no point in listening to Sam chat up whoever happens to be sitting near him, he’ll do that just fine without the two of you having to suffer through it. You love Sam like family, but the man likes to talk more than a teenage schoolgirl.
“Where are you tonight?” You ask, referring to the way Bucky seemed so out of focus and distant back in the garage.
“I’m here.” He says quietly, keeping his eyes on the road. You sigh and cross your legs. This time, you don’t miss the way Bucky’s gaze darts over to you, running up your legs as your dress slides impossibly higher up your thigh. Any higher and he might be able to tell what color panties you’re wearing tonight. He adjusts himself in his seat, shifting his hips a little and pressing his head back against the headrest. He looks uncomfortable, and when you let your eyes scan down his body, you quickly find out why. He’s hard. Not even slightly hard. Fully erect and clearly testing the strength of his pant seams. In a split second, you make a decision to continue the game. You were going to give it a rest tonight. With Dr. Raynor watching you both so closely and already thinking that you’ve had sex, you didn’t think it’d be smart to push your luck. But you got all dressed up. Why let it go to waste?
“Bucky…” You say, in a sultry tone. Bucky’s knuckles go white again at the sound of you saying his name. You notice it this time. He fucking hates how easy it is for you to get a rise out of him. It’s not even his own fault. You avoided him so much the last couple of days. Seeing you now, dressed like this? It’s like he’s an addict and he’s been without his drug of choice for too long. He’s in the beginning stages of withdrawal and his next fix is staring right at him, calling his fucking name. “What are the boundaries tonight?” You ask. Though the question itself sounds professional, the way you delivered it is anything but. You asked it in a way that implies you want to know so you can test whatever boundaries he lays out. You have all of the power in this moment and he can’t stand it. Do you think he doesn’t know what game you’re playing?
“We need boundaries?” He asks, flipping the script on you. You lose your wits for a moment, unsure of what the hell to say back to him. He was supposed to lay out a few boundaries like no kissing with tongue or hands below the belt, so then you could cross the lines anyway just to fuck with him. He wasn’t supposed to make it a free-for-all. You’re silent for a few seconds too long and he can’t stand it. “I asked you a question.”
Holy fuck. Where does he get off being so demanding with you? You hate it and love it all at the same time. It sends a raging heat straight to your core and you feel your panties dampening with arousal. Your mind follows your body’s cues and answers him the way he expects to be answered: promptly.
“Yes.” You muster the words up, but they come out soft. He zapped your confident demeanor away with one little phrase. He tsks now, relaxing in his seat. He’s gained control back and he’s relishing in it. He steers with only his left hand now, moving to rest his flesh hand over the gear shift between the two of you.
“What boundaries do you need tonight?” He questions. Your mind immediately goes back to the two rules you had in the safehouse that night, though you only ever said one of them out loud. No kissing, and no using his name. You broke both of those rules before the sun ever came up. Obviously your first rule won’t fly in this situation, given the nature of the mission. Your second rule could be useful, considering Bucky’s cover name is simply going to be his real first name: James.
“I don’t know.” You admit, after careful consideration.
“You’re not going to tell me not to kiss you this time?”
“I don’t think we could get away with not kissing when we’re supposed to be convincing everyone there that we want to fuck.” You point out. Bucky laughs lightly, moving the car into the left lane to pass a very slowly traveling Kia.
“We wanted to fuck last week but we didn’t kiss until it had already happened a few times.”
He really just said that.
“We wanted to or we needed to?” You ask, just to clarify. He chuckles under his breath as he moves the car back into the right lane.
“Wanted to, needed to, we can go with whichever makes you feel better.”
“You’re such an ass.” You scoff, crossing your arms. This small act pushes your breasts up a bit and Bucky can tell out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t dare to peel his eyes away from the road and steal a look, because if he does, he’ll crash this damn car when he can’t stop looking at you.
“No kissing tonight.” He says. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he still doesn’t give you so much as a sideways glance.
“Bucky, there’s no way we can pull off an assignment like this without kissing.” It’s not that you want to kiss him, but how else will you make it obvious that you want to fuck? You can’t risk botching the mission as part of your stupid little side game.
“You can kiss anywhere except my lips.” He offers, acting like that’s some sort of compromise. As much as you want to argue with him, there is no fucking way you’re going to sit here in this car and plead for him to let you kiss his lips tonight. There isn’t a chance in hell.
The rest of the car ride went by fairly quickly. Bucky pulled the car into the dramatic gated entrance of a mansion and stopped at the valet. You knew he’d already gotten into character when he turned to you before getting out of the driver’s seat and told you to stay put. He then waved the valet away from your side of the car, before calmly walking over and opening the door for you himself. It was almost attractive. But you know that wasn’t something he normally would’ve done. He’s just playing the part.
Bucky holds out a gloved hand for you, which you accept, and then he helps you out of the car. Once you’re standing in front of him on your favorite black ankle-strap heels, he pushes the car door shut behind you and rests his left hand on your lower back. You tug the hem of your dress a little further down your thighs, since it rode up so much in the car, and surprisingly, Bucky appreciates that. Though he loved getting to see so much of your skin, he didn’t want everyone surveilling the mission to see it too. He also didn’t know if he could continue to think straight with how short your dress was becoming.
As he guides you up the front steps of the mansion and into the double doors, his hand slips a little lower so it’s resting just millimeters above your ass. You feel your cheeks warming and butterflies waking up within you, but you tamp them down fast. This isn’t real. Fake it, get the intel you’re here for, and then get home and get the hell away from Bucky. That’s what you keep telling yourself.
The only problem you were having was that Bucky was way too fucking good at faking it. He walked you right into the gala and wasted no time grabbing you a glass of champagne from a passing server. He found the two of you a nice corner to cozy up in, but made sure it was one that everyone could clearly see. He made sure that you weren’t hidden from plain sight. Then, as you took the first sip of champagne, he started in on step one.
“You’re staring.” You whisper, his blue eyes following your every move. He’s standing close in front of you, the glass of champagne in his hand looking almost miniature, and his breath fanning across your lips.
“I’m staring.” He agrees. Why is your heart racing? Jesus. This mission was a bad call. You turn away from him, taking the moment to scan the room. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. Everyone is dressed beautifully, drinking champagne and chatting away. Most of these guests probably have no idea that the owner of this house is the type of criminal that he is.
Dr. Raynor is watching the live surveillance footage of the mission play out before her from her seat in the conference room of the tower. She’s jotting down notes as she observes you and Bucky, thoroughly surprised by what she’s seeing. Bucky is excelling at feigning the attraction and making it seem like he wants you. You, however, look anxious. You’ve barely even spoken since entering the gala three minutes ago and she’s starting to wonder if you’re going to wash the entire op down the drain.
Bucky keeps his eyes focused on you as you now stand in front of him. He can tell how tense you are. What he can’t tell is if it’s because you don’t want to have to do this with him or if it’s because you do, and that makes you nervous as hell. Of course, the latter is right.
“Come on, you two. Let’s get things moving.” Sam speaks through your in-ear monitors. Bucky takes a step forward now, stepping so close to you that his chest brushes against your back and your cascading, softly curled hair tickles his chin. You smell like strawberries. It’s the same intoxicating scent that he had to wash off of his skin after your night together.
“It’s just me.” He breathes the words out next to your ear, trying to ease your nerves. You let yourself relax against him a little, taking another sip of champagne and closing your eyes for a moment. It’s just him. The guy that’s saved your ass in the field so many times that you’ve lost count. The guy that you’d trust above anyone else, even as you give him shit just for the hell of it. The guy that gave you the best sex of your life, not just once, but five fucking times in a row. It's just him.
“Okay…” You whisper, deciding that you can be as calm and level-headed as he’s being right now. This is going to be easy. You’re a professional, after all.
It’s not until you find yourself with your back against a wall and Bucky’s hands on your waist that you think you might be in over your head. It started out slow, light touches and seemingly innocent whispers in each other’s ears while standing at the very busy bar. After quite a few people started to give the two of you looks, Bucky led you over to an area where a handful of couples were gathered, chatting amongst themselves. That’s where he chose to make a display of grabbing your ass with his vibranium hand, making you gasp and lean into his chest. Trying to play off the gasp as being intentional, you immediately attached your lips to his neck. Kissing and sucking on the soft skin there. Even his skin tastes fucking good. You can’t help yourself when you start having flashbacks to the night you spent together. Once you start thinking about how good it felt with him that night, you begin chasing that feeling. You want him all over you, you want him inside you again. Though you know you can’t have that, you know you can get pretty damn close to it before this mission ends. So, you up your game. This time, you don’t have to hide any evidence of what you’re doing, because you were assigned to do this. You use that as your excuse for sucking a little mark on the side of Bucky’s neck, leaving him with something to find in the mirror later. As your lips leave his neck, one of his hands travels quickly up your back and he tangles his fingers in your hair at the back of your head. He tilts your head back until you’re looking up into his eyes. You can feel the stares of the couples around you, but you remind yourself that those stares are exactly why you’re doing what you’re both doing right now.
Bucky’s eyes dart from your eyes down to your lips. Your fucking lips. God, he wants to kiss you. He remembers how sweet your mouth tasted the first time you kissed him. Like he could ever forget that. He bites his bottom lip in restraint before leaning down and kissing your neck instead, licking and sucking along the curve of your jaw, making his way up to your ear.
“I think we’ve put on enough of a show, don’t you?” He asks softly, his lips tickling the shell of your ear. Your eyes flutter closed at the sound of his voice, hating that that he’s right. It’s time to make your way upstairs, which means that the touching and riling each other up is nearly over with. You nod your head, but Bucky doesn’t like that. He likes when you speak up and answer him. He likes hearing how breathy your voice sounds when you’re worked up like this. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
Shit. You feel a wave of heat spreading from where his lips are against your ear all the way down to your cunt. You take a deep breath, forcing your eyes open and looking over his shoulder. You see plenty of people in the crowded room taking their turns staring at the two of you.
“I think so.” You say quietly, placing a shaky hand on Bucky’s chest and pushing him back gently. You turn on your heel, reaching back and taking his hand in yours, before leading the way to the back of the large, open living area.
“Nice work. You’re going to find the opening to a big hallway at the back of the room. It’ll be dark, you’ll go all the way to the end and take the elevator to the fifth floor. Jesus, this place is huge. Why anyone needs to a home with five floors to themself is beyond you. You reach the hallway quickly, and Bucky holds onto your hand firmly, letting you guide him. The hallway itself has to be at least fifty-feet long, but eventually you reach the elevator. Bucky steps forward, letting his front press against your back as he presses the button to call the elevator with his free hand, his other hand still clasped in yours. Instead of stepping away from you after pressing the button, he stays flush against you. You feel his free hand land on your hip and pull you against him with such a slight movement that it’s almost unnoticeable.
You immediately feel it. His hard cock pressing into your ass.
“There’s one camera in the elevator, so keep up the show.” Sam instructs, just as the elevator is arriving and the doors are sliding open in front of you. The lights inside are dim and the walls are a shiny metal, but not fully reflective. Before you have a chance to step in, Bucky is pushing you forward with the hold he has on your hip. He wastes no time in turning you around. It’s exciting, the way he can so easily move you and handle you. It’s as if it takes little effort or thought for him to do exactly what he wants with you. He walks you backward until your ass hits the wall, and then he looks down into your eyes, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Don’t move.” He says lowly, before stepping away and hitting the button to carry you both up to the fifth floor. As the doors close, he positions himself back against you, tugging on your hair and kissing your neck once more. You sigh as you secretly enjoy his touch, praying that he doesn’t realize just how real your heavy breathing and soft whimpers are. But Bucky knows they’re real. He’s heard you just like this before…whimpering, panting underneath him as he fucked his cock into you. It’s what’s driving him to leave marks all along your collarbone right now. It’s what has his cock so fucking hard that he worries his suit pants won’t survive the mission.
Temporarily forgetting that this is supposed to be an act, Bucky presses his hips into you, nibbling on your earlobe as you take in the feeling of his hard cock resting against your stomach.
“James…” You breathe his name out and he freezes. You feel his cock twitch in his pants and a devious smile plays on your lips. You’re so damn lucky that they let him use his real first name for this mission. You don’t know it yet, but you can have anything you want when you say his name like that. Any. Damn. Thing. He’s about to say fuck it and shove his tongue into your mouth when the elevator dings and the doors open to the fifth floor, revealing a dark home office. You push his chest lightly and he gets moving, turning around and leading the way out of the elevator.
“Security does a sweep of every floor once every ten minutes. If our timing is right, you should have about eight minutes to finish this. Just plug the device into the laptop and leave it for three minutes. It has to be plugged in for at least three minutes to complete the download. Then you’re all clear and you guys can get out of there.” Torres reminds you both through your in-ears. Bucky makes a beeline for the desk at the far back wall of the room, reaching in his pocket for the device and quickly finding the USB port of the laptop. He plugs it in and it lights up with a pale green glow as the intel begins downloading. You both stand there in silence, watching the device as if that will make it download any faster. After about thirty seconds, Sam speaks up again, a slight panic rising in his tone.
“You’ve got company in thirty seconds, security decided to sweep early.”
“Shit.” You mumble, your mind suddenly moving at a hundred miles an hour. Bucky turns to you and meets your gaze, and you immediately know that you’re on the same wavelength. You reach beneath the hem of your dress, tugging your black panties down and holding onto the edge of the desk as you quickly step out of them. You drape them over the device to cover up the green glow of the light, and then turn to face Bucky.
“Sit on the edge of the desk.” He tells you in a hushed tone, as his eyes dart to the fabric of your panties beside the laptop. You find yourself listening without second-guessing his demand. He steps in between your legs and you can hear the whirring of the elevator as it’s called down to one of the lower floors, likely to pick up the security guards that will be sweeping the office any minute now. You’re running out of time. Bucky begins loosening his tie around his neck, and then unbuttons the top three buttons of his shirt in record time, as you reach your hands out and begin unbuckling his belt. Fuck, he’s enjoying this so much more than he should. When you unzip his pants, you nearly moan at the way you see his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. You only get a peek though, because you don’t push his pants down even a little bit. Bucky looks you over quickly as he deftly slides the straps of your dress off of your shoulders. His eyes meet yours and you both know exactly what you need to do. You lay back on the desk and he pulls your thighs around his hips, leaving your dress in place so you’re still fully covered. Suddenly, you feel his clothed, hard cock pushing against your bare clit and you unintentionally arch your back off the cold desk, biting your lip and letting your eyes fall closed. Anyone seeing this on the SHIELD surveillance footage right now would think that you’re just really good at your job, really good at faking things undercover. Only Bucky knows that he just drew real pleasure from you.
“Get loud for me, we have to sell it.” He encourages you, bucking his hips into yours and leaving one hand on your right thigh while his other hand wraps gently around your throat.
“Fuck, James.” You moan loudly, hoping the security guards can already hear you from the elevator shaft. “Right there, baby, oh my god.” This earns a loud groan from Bucky and his grip on your thigh tightens so much that you think you might be left with a bruise in the shape of his hand. The friction of him rutting against you like this is so fucking good that you let out another very real moan right as the elevator dings and the doors slide open behind Bucky. You both pretend not to notice them, trying to give the device more time to do its job. Bucky continues to mimic the actions of a guy slamming his cock into his girl, moans falling from your lips and perfectly timed grunts mixed in with dirty praises falling from his.
“Hey!” A deep voice yells out, and you both gasp for show. You push yourself up on your elbows and look over Bucky’s shoulder. He keeps his body firmly planted where it is to shield you from the men who stand by the elevator. He’d be damned if he’d let them see you this way. “You two can’t be up here.” The man’s voice is serious and authoritative, but his security guard buddy has an amused smile on his face.
“Oh my god, James, you said we wouldn’t get caught.” Your voice is full of fake embarrassment as you cover your face with one hand. He laughs before looking over his shoulder at the guards.
“Just thirty more seconds.” Sam calls out.
“I’d apologize but I’m really not sorry about this.” Bucky says to the two guards, making the amused one laugh and the authoritative one shoot his partner a warning glance. “Can we just have a few seconds to get ourselves together?” Bucky asks kindly, tilting his head in your direction as if to remind them that you’re a lady. The security guards are silent for a second, assessing the situation and scanning the rest of the office for anything in disarray besides the two of you.
“You have thirty seconds to situate yourselves and get in the elevator.” The first guard barks, turning around to face away from you and gesturing for his buddy to do the same. Bucky steps back from you and you lower yourself to the floor, pulling your dress down and sliding the straps back onto your shoulders. Bucky quickly fixes his pants and belt before moving on to his tie and shirt buttons. You smooth down your hair a bit, leaving it at least a little messy for evidence.
“Got it, you’re good to go.” Sam gives the all clear to remove the device.
Bucky smirks at you and as the guards turn back around to face the both of you, he leans in close, reaching past you to grab your panties off of the desk. He skillfully grips the device within them, pulling it out of the laptop and shoving both the panties and device into his suit jacket pocket, making sure the guards witness his move.
“Alright you two, time to head out.” One of the guards calls out, waving you toward the elevator. Bucky takes your hand in his and leads the way, the cocky smile that you’ve become so familiar with never leaving his lips.
Though the guards would’ve allowed you to stay at the gala, it only made sense for you to leave, acting like you were heading out early to finish what you started in the home office upstairs. Bucky stands behind you, peppering kisses up and down the side of your neck while you wait for the valet to bring your car around. As the car comes into view, he cheekily slides his hand from your hip down to the slit in your dress, tracing the triangular outline with his index finger. You have to tell yourself a million times that this is just part of the job.
---
Of course, the mission couldn’t possibly go fully according to plan. Do they ever? When Bucky began to drive you both back to the compound, you soon realized that you were being tailed. Sam was quick to direct you to a hotel, arranging to have a team of SHIELD operatives nearby for protection in case of any kind of ambush. You were sure that the guards didn’t see the device, but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t want to check you out and make sure you were really just some lusty young couple.
That’s how you ended up where you are now: laying on your stomach, still in your dress and heels, on a very comfortable luxury bed while Bucky showers. You have to fight the dirty thoughts flooding your mind, which is really fucking hard to do when the man that you want to do dirty things with is naked just a few feet away in the bathroom. Forcing your mind to stay empty leads to you drifting off to sleep as you wait for him to finish showering so you can have your turn.
You’re startled out of your extremely light slumber by the feel of Bucky’s hands on one of your ankles. You realize that he’s undoing the straps of your heels as you lay on the bed.
“Do you have the device still?” You mumble the question, not moving from your position or trying to stop his movements.
“Mhm, I have your panties too.” He answers, sounding so pleased with himself. You think about kicking him, you could easily do it in the position that you’re currently in, but you’re secretly really glad that he’s taking your heels off for you so you let his teasing slide.
“Yeah, that was a nice move back there, grabbing them and the device the way you did.” He hmms in response, taking off your second heel and setting them both on the floor at the foot of the bed. You feel his hand softly pat the side of one of your thighs before he steps away from the bed and sits in the chair by the window. You roll onto your back and push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning back on your hands. You don’t know what you expected him to be wearing, but it sure as hell wasn’t only his boxers.
“Like what you see?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you and flashing you a suggestive smile. He’s relaxed in the chair, a bit slouched with his arms on the arm rests and his legs spread apart. You do like what you see, but he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you say it out loud. You roll your eyes and push yourself off of the bed, dragging yourself into the bathroom where you find his suit jacket laid across the counter. You reach into the right pocket and pull out your panties.
“They were wet.” He calls out, his voice carrying above the noise of the running water as you turn on the shower. You step back out of the bathroom and make eye contact with him, narrowing your eyes.
“What?”
“Your panties, they were wet.” He smirks. You feel your cheeks heating up and for a moment, you’re embarrassed. Meanwhile, he’s basically beaming with pride. Fuck him. Why are you even embarrassed? He was rock hard, that’s no different than you being wet. You let out a deep sigh and start sliding the straps of your dress down your arms. His eyes follow the movement of your hands and his smug smile falters when he realizes you’re not going back into the bathroom to undress. Honestly, you’re getting sick of this game.
“And your dick was hard.” You retort, staring at him. He shrugs his shoulders, acting nonchalant, but his gaze is still trained on your now bare shoulders.
“Occupational hazard.” He says calmly. He’s such a fucking ass.
“So, now that the job is over, you’re not hard anymore, right?” You question, letting your eyes travel down his tanned, muscular torso and settle on his lap, where he's most definitely still hard. He doesn’t respond but continues staring at you. For once, you’ve shut him up. His silence gives you a newfound boldness, and you start sauntering over to him. You see him stiffen in the chair and a small giggle leaves your lips. God, you’re so fucking pretty and you sound so innocent when you laugh like that. It almost makes him forget about the ways you let him destroy your body a few nights ago. Almost.
Next Part
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel#mcu#the winter soldier#winter soldier#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut
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Your kiss is burning to my skin — S. Rogers and B. Barnes.
summary: steve and bucky break up with you to focus on their relationship. at first, you took the breakup hard. then you took it worse.
pairings: steve x reader x bucky, stucky x reader.
warnings: angst, language, mentions of violence, poly.
chapter one
“it has nothing to do with you, doll.” bucky reiterates, tone mellowing into a small hesitant whisper as he sees you flinch at the endearment. “i mean you were wonderful and so lovely; always understanding us, being the pillar for support and providing us, always with positive reinforcements.” steve squeezes his hand as his form of support, as if willing bucky to take strenght from him to continue his words as he stutters.
the tender moment was not missed by your gaze that were intent on the supersoldiers who sat at the sofa infront of you. the parallels already evident; steve and bucky, leaning to eachother for comfort, sitting in one sofa. the only distance in the room were with you and them; sat in the lone one seater, listening with bated breath to their reasons on why they were breaking your heart.
you could guess several other scenarios happening when you returned from the three week mission requiring radio silence; a breakup was not one of them.
you were happy. the last time you saw either of them, you three went on a romantic date followed by a passionate night spent in eachother's loving arms. the next day was a tearful exchange of goodbye's and unwillingness to part; bucky had almost begged to be included, knowing what the mission entailed. steve inteded to be more diplomatic and barter with tony who refused to budge on his stance.
so with a heavy heart, you departed to cold and frigid terrorist base along with natasha and sam, throwing yourself into your duties in order to come home soonest. even with the support and extensive planning aswell as research, it still took a considerable amount of time.
but not enough for a drastic change of heart— or so you thought.
the steely and determined gaze to steve, the way bucky could look at you in the eyes despite shifting in his seat; they were fucking serious. and intent on expressing their disatisfaction with your current arrangement. one that was implicitly expressed as you trek to your floor, and sat you down after an almost hostile welcome.
“this hurts us more than you.” bucky exhales, looking at steve.
“i doubt it.” the first words you spoke amid all these crazy tirade sounded weak, from disuse and the emotions welling up in your throat. “but please, by all means, don't let me interrupt. why now?”
“we have been talking and spending time with eachother.. unconsciously, we thought about... how we missed it when it was just us.”
you flinch. again. in the field you were almost fearless, and not even a flying knife can make you swerve— you'd catch the weapon whizing to the air with precise movements. turns out, words indeed cut deeper.
but all the more of the implication that it had been them first; and the way it sounded, you were an unwelcomed participant into the special connection they shared.
“but this is not to say we don't value you.” steve intones. “we do. you have to know that. you're special in your own way, but bucky and i have something deeper than just flesh.”
you bite your tongue to refrain from lashing out. as a coping mechanism, you entertain the anger for his fucking audacity. letting the rage simmer under the blank farce you currently wear.
“we just hope, we can focus on eachother more.” steve elaborates, tensing the slightest at your emotionless response. to be frank, both men were ready for a fight, for you to scream and be hysterical. but you were surprisingly calm and collected. which made both uneasy.
“we just want to fall inlove again, without worrying about, others.” he refers you as others now. “could be permanent, could be a thought in passing.” bucky says. “the only thing we're certain about is a break.” he evasively looks away.
“i guess what bucky and i are trying to say is that, we want more from eachother, and there are certain deeper connections that we can't sustain in a three-way relationship.” steve informs you.
“i respect that.” you run your clammy hands on your tactical gear, they couldn't wait until you were dressed and atleast fed before shoving flowery words on your throat. “but if you're breaking up with me, say it bluntly; tell me honestly, tell it in words i understand- you were a good lay but it's actually eachother we love.” you enunciate the word slowly, “and don't delude me with kind words, when i know you're going to dangle the very statements you spewed over my head, most likely in days when you're fucked up or too lonely for eachother. i will not be tripped into your bed ever again.”
you despised the words as soon as they left your mouth; the statements only providing to fuel your deepest insecurity. and it was unfair to both of them, you knew it was.
steve and bucky looked visibly wretched by your words, yet you ignore it, telling yourself to get used to not caring about either of them.
“doll”
“darling”
“don't fucking call me that.” you hiss, both men still in their seat. “we're done.” gathering whatever was left of your dignity, you trudge to the doors and out of their lives.
the door closed behind you, your own apartment looking stale as opposed to the home you have built with steve and bucky; you barely stayed here anyways, but kept it for storage reasons. it still had stark's touch, feeling more like a hotel penthouse, appearing cold and detatched.
you slide down against the door weakly, losing the false bravado infront of your ex lovers. as if a child, you hug your knees to your chest, sobbing into it unbashedly.
three years all down the drain. and they talked about it as if it were a skin deep connection, downplaying every single moment; in tenderness, in affection, in tears and the joy.
you didn't lie down with them in their bed as an extension, as a woman that can be tossed in passing.
you didn't hold them gently in your arms, and provided the warmth the world has chosen to keep from them just to be a stranger.
you didn't whisper words of comfort in their ears, in the middle of the night when the nightmares became too much to handle, just to be someone shallow and unimportant in their lives.
most importantly, you didn't love them to be hurt like this.
the pain cuts deep in your heart, like a throbbing wound, one you feel physically; one that leaves you gasping for breath, a hand held above your heart, feeling as if you could die. your chest tight, your throat welling up, you struggle to remain above ground, eyes darting around the room to keep in the moment- fuck, you were having a panic attack.
you despised when that happens. hated the sheer fact that you would allow yourself to be vulnerable when there were things that needed to be done; people that need saving, reports to be made, meetings to attend. you led a remotely chaotic life and the only thing that truly anchored you in here, to the now, turned their backs to you.
they no longer want you.
you swallowed heavily, arms instinctively hugging yourself, eyes squinting in an an attempt at concentration; color, you looked at your surroundings, dizzily naming the grey of your couch, the ivory white lamp, the silver and gold of the chandelier. your forehead was beaded with perspiration, breath coming out in shorts despite your attempts at distracting yourself.
“agent y/n, your blood pressure is fluctuating; your heart rate is abnormal which can cause the brain and other ogans to become oxygen deprived. i concluded a physical scan and deduced your emotional distress," FRIDAY “i'm at liberty to ask if i should call captain rogers and sergeant barnes, as they are—”
“no!” you managed to shout between strangled breaths, patting your chest methodolically hoping whatever it was, seemingly dislodged into your airways be cleared.
“agent y/n, in accordance to the tower's protoccol, i am hardwired to inform your immediate contacts of your current state of distress.” her posh voice inserts. and despite yourself, you groan.
“i'm peachy, fri.” you lean your head back to the door, closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing. slowly, you were able to calm down enough, “it's probably the best time to change those emergency contacts, aswell. while you're at it, remove the captain and sergeant's access to this floor; both physically and even in information.”
“ofcourse, agent y/n. please state your official badge number and code.” when you answer her, FRIDAY appears to repeat your command before doing what was asked.
“i also elected the sensible decision of reinstating agent romanov as your primary emergency contact. that being said, ms. romanov is on the way to your floor.” FRIDAY disappears before you can scold her, which made you truly contemplate wether she was conscious and, in all actuality sensitive to human emotions.
perhaps, she does have an inkling of human relationships and intense emotions, but that was no longer your concern; considering you have a black widow shaped problem coming your way. and natasha romanov was nothing, if not immensely stubborn and perpetually perceptive. you were several times screwed over.
however, as she appeared in your doorway, the waterworks resumed ten times over, and you were sobbing pathetically in the red head's arms, lamenting your broken heart.
you couldn't remember for how long you've stayed immobile in your room, but it had been several days; perhaps a week or two that you cried your heart out, barely consuming meals unless for sustenance. that in itself seemed like a chore for your aching muscle, your tired and weary bones protesting with every single movements.
this morning though... this morning, it was sunny and bright. you'd opened the curtains with much effort, peering into the bustling city; the skyline providing you with displaced warmth. a few years ago, you'd only ever dreamt about being in new york; and you've lived it. becoming an avenger was also a dream you've worked hard in achieving, and here you are, fighting alongside the heroic and brave on normal tuesdays.
should you allow yourself to wither away in a dark room, heart terribly battered and bruised when the world was set for conquering? well, perhaps it would be insensitive to use the c word; cringing to yourself upon the remembrance of several otherplanetary creatures wreaking havoc on your home planet, like it were a free for all.
you enjoyed the warmth of the sun on your skin for a few moments, allowing yourself to finally, breathe. you bask in the first time upon weeks that you thought positively for a change; so wreaked from questioning every single thing wrong about you.
for the first time in many days, you took the longest shower in history, setting the temperature just a touch scalding. you cleaned your room, changed the sheets, and donned yourself in a decent jeans and a t-shirt combo. grabbing your purse, and stuffing your phone, wallet and keys along with you, you departed from your room.
on the way to the garage, you texted both wanda and natasha; who have been at your side with the outmost vigor, crying and cursing both the supersoldiers as you wept from your broken heart.
you: mall and galiani's at the grove? :)
wands: yes!! meet you there <3
natty: otw in my sensible shoes.
you smiled softly, thankful for your friends. it may have spread like wildfire among your colleagues in the tower, and the magic six may have taken sides and pointed fingers; but amongst all the drama, you were glad that you had people to count on.
it may take a while for you to feel like yourself again... but you were willing to make it work.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x fem!reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers#stucky x reader#stucky x y/n#stucky x you#stucky
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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝐌Í𝐀 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
Gif not mine!
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a major fight between the two of you, a month goes by in which you give each other the silent treatment, figuring out if you should start seeing different people. However, Javier has a problem: he can’t get his dick hard for anyone that isn’t you. So, when he sees how easily you can move on from him, he gets awfully jealous.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, possessive/jealous behavior, unprotected sex, p in v, cuffs, slight dirty talk, semi-public sex, use of ‘slut’, pet names (sweetheart, corazón, cariño, hermosa, etc.), praise kink, come eating, oral sex (f! & m! receiving), mentions of drugs, smoking, a bit of angst, very little plot (mostly filth), weirdly structured plot. I think that’s it.
— a/n: there’s some phrases and words in Spanish, some are translated and some aren’t. Let me know if translations are needed :)
No use of y/n.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Javier Peña has never been a jealous man.
It's simply never been in his nature, not even when he was a child playing around with toys that he loved to share. And nowadays? Well, he had other stuff in mind that didn't leave any room for those pedestrian feelings.
As of now, he -supposedly- didn't have anything to be worried about. Specially not women.
Everyone knew he fucked hookers so good that they'd spill all their secrets in his ear, and that he was attractive enough to leave a bar with company just after a couple of minutes from arriving there. But to anyone observant, it was obvious how bad he had it for you.
Still, that didn't stop him from being an asshole.
You remember the last time you two spoke and how it turned out to be a fucking disaster: basically, he didn't like the idea of exclusivity because it involved feelings that he wasn't ready to admit, so you had called him a slut (along with many other insults) and he'd said that you were childish and sensitive. So naturally, everything went downhill after that fight.
Currently, things were pretty tense with Javier, even at work. But things just got worse when the Colombian police sent you onto an undercover mission, nothing really extravagant but still quite dangerous. And apparently, the DEA knew nothing about it.
The task was rather simple: you'd go to one of Medellin's busiest nightclubs and find out if there was a cocaine distribution line working there. The problem was what the agent had overheard from Carrillo. Not only did he knew now that you were at the place, but he also had word that one of the cartel's most wanted sicarios was about to be there too. And knowing the Coronel as well as he did, you were right in the middle of a crossfire. He arrived at the club earlier than any of them, hoping to find you quickly and draw you out before the asset came in.
But, oh hell.
What he saw the minute he stepped in almost made him lose his shit.
⩇⩇:⩇⩇
You had no business being in there this late. You'd already passed down all the information needed to your boss and now you were just waiting for the cartel's member to arrive so you could call Carrillo and let him finish the job.
But in the meantime, you decided to at least try and have some fun. After everything that went on with Peña, you felt like you deserved a distraction.
The music was loud, reggaetón reverberating in your body as you danced, eyes wide awake in case the target decided to show up. The stranger you were dancing with had his hands all over your body, holding you close to him while you moved in synch. He was handsome in a boyish way, and a bit clumsy, but good enough to take your mind off from the irritating DEA agent. At least for now.
To be honest, you didn't lack any attention at the moment. Both men and women would come up to you, hoping to get a piece of what you had to offer. It came without saying that everything about you tonight resulted appealing to the kind of people that frequented the place, being an undercover assignment you did your best to blend in. And it seemed to work out wonderfully. The flashy makeup and short dress that only accentuated your figure made you stand out amongst the rest; nevertheless, what really attracted everyone's gaze wasn't any of that, but the confidence with which you'd walk around the place like you owned it.
"¿Qué tal si nos vamos pa' un lugar más oscurito, mamacita?" (How about we go to a more private place?) The guy, whose name you didn't even know, proposed. And though the idea sounded nice, your job wasn't quite finished.
"Not yet, papi. Dame un par de canciones más." (Let's dance a bit more). He hummed in response, his hands traveling from your lower back to grab your ass firmly.
"Usted manda." (You call the shots). The answer made you smile cheekily as you lean in to him, hoping to connect his lips with yours.
However, you definitely didn't expect to be abruptly pulled back with force instead, ripping you apart from the man's hold.
"What the hell..." you start to complain and twist in the strangers grasp, who started to drag you out the dance floor and keeping your wrists behind your back.
"Hombre, ¿pero qué diablo' le pasa?" (What's wrong with you, man?). Asked your poor companion, glancing over at the guy that took you away from him.
But you knew exactly who he was even before he spoke. You'd recognize that musky cologne anywhere, mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke. Damn, even your body recognized him so well that the way his fingertips dig on your skin flooded your mind with memories from the past.
"Peña." You mutter through gritted teeth, not bothering to turn your head towards him.
"It's agent Peña to you, sweetheart." He snarls, completely blowing off anyone that would try to get in his way to lug you outside.
A new, fueled up rage crept up your spine while he harshly pulls you to te entrance, right were you see the colonel's target going in.
"Let go of me, mierda!" You struggle against him, not wanting to actually put on a fight but just make him reason. "I have a fucking job to do, so let go of me or..."
"Or what?" Javier spins you around carelessly, leaving your face so close to his that your breaths merged with each other's, chest pressed against your own as he keeps you still, his hands gripping you so hard that it would certainly leave bruises.
"I need to call Carrillo. I'm working, even if you don't believe it." You tell him, letting your racing heartbeat start to settle.
The man's eyes were dark, covered by a shadow of anger that matched his stern expression. He was always handsome, but whenever he'd get mad, Javi was hot. Although it was unusual for you to see him like this, him being always attentive and careful, though still very passionate. He would never explode, not even when the stress and tension became too much to handle. But then, you realize...
"No way..." you scoff, keeping direct eye contact. "You're jealous, aren't you?"
His reaction is immediate, turning your body again and flushing your face against the trunk of his jeep Cherokee, bending you over the car. You gasp audibly, feeling the cold metal under your cheek and his body towering upon you while he holds you down by the back of your neck. Javier's lips brush the top of your ear when he leans down to you.
"The fuck do I need to be jealous about, cariño?" He whispers lowly, his hot breath giving you goosebumps and making your knees tremble. "Eres mía, you've always been."
Ah, fuck.
Despite all the shit that you went through with him, the effect he had on you remained the same. No matter what, the agent was aware of it, conscious of how you'd always melt under his touch, he just knew all your sweet spots by core memory and what'll have you squirming underneath him. Yeah, even if your mind tried it's best to erase Peña, your body would always betray you.
"You lost your chance." You mutter in a bittersweet tone. "Now get the hell off me so I can finish my task."
He doesn't instantly let go, but eventually loosens the grip on your nape. Though right when you thought he'd actually let you free, there's a cold metallic sensation brushing on your wrist and you suddenly can't move your arms from your back. The motherfucker had just cuffed you.
"Malparido, hijo de..." You ramble, straightening your back to glance at him in exasperation.
"Don't move." He growls, opening the driver's door and taking his radio out. The agent starts to talk through it, but you're way too outraged as to pay any attention, your vision going red when you catch your name, the words 'Carrillo', 'sicario' and the place were you're at, figuring out that he's doing the part of the job that corresponded to you.
"You're sick, Peña." There's no reply to the snarky comment as he simply shoves you in the back of his truck, rather carefully, considering the situation.
You watch intently while he gets back on his seat, analyzing every detail about him. It wasn't anything special, you had seen him quite often at work after your fight, and nonetheless, now... Something seemed off.
Javier was wearing a red button shirt under his black leather jacket, from which he drew out a pack of cigs and a lighter. He appeared the same, however, you could sense the tension on his shoulders and back, the kind you'd help him deal with before, and it almost felt like he was holding back from doing something. Heck, you hated it. You completely despised arguing with him, being apart from the man almost made you physically unwell.
But that was the root of this whole problem. You were able to admit it; how much you liked him and didn't want anyone else. Him on the other hand, wasn't ready for all that. Although, despite him implying that he couldn't fully commit or correspond to your feelings... Right now, his actions were very contradicting.
Because Javier Peña never got jealous.
And yet, there he was.
Perhaps, if you spurred him on just enough and cornered him in a trap... Perhaps then, he'd be able to admit it.
"So what now, agent?" You wonder, laying your back flat on the leather sit, feeling the coldness of the material on your exposed skin and trying to find a comfortable position. "You mind explaining yourself?"
He looks at you through the rear-view mirror, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. A challenging fire shines in your eyes when you lock glances with him. But he doesn't say anything, simply starting the car and getting the windows down before lighting up a cigarette.
"What about you, sweetheart?" He asks, the fag hanging from between his lips as he starts driving away from the club. "Care for elaborating on your actions?"
You snort, gaze diverting towards the window. "I was just killing time."
The streets of Medellin were loud and busy, specially on the weekends. But at the moment, the paths were dark and quiet, as if everyone knew that there was a storm coming and they had to stay out of the hood.
"So that's your idea of 'killing time'?" He comes again, tapping the cigar out his window to leave the ashes behind. "Letting random men grope you in those wrenched bars?" You grin, still defying him with your attitude. "And yet, I'm the slut..."
"You must certainly are, Peña." You reply condescendingly, watching the road. "When I was with you, that was it. No one else even crossed my mind. But then, you? How many other women did you have besides me?"
He grunts, taking a long drag without looking back in your direction. You recognize certain spots and locals, but none of them were anywhere close to your apartment. Instead of asking were he was taking you to, the idea you previously had lingers on your mind.
Red light.
"You know, ever since we... Well, ghosted each other. I've actually had tons of fun." His eyes darkened, but no matter all the warning signs he was sending with his body, you just couldn't hold back anymore, starting to play a game that might get out of control. "Actually, you know that guy working with the CIA? Balcázar?"
Javier looked so gorgeous while driving. His big hands over the lever and muscles flexing whenever he'd make sudden moves. Even now, tense as an arrow an white-knuckling the wheel at your words, he was the hottest man you'd seen.
"Shit, he’s good..." you purr, slightly arching your back so he'll get a better view of your breasts, barely contained in that tiny dress you were wearing. "I really miss him. Hated it when he went back to New York."
His stormy glare was on you, watching closely every single move you made. Your legs were briefly parted, just enough for him to peek a sight of your laced underwear. The agent's breathing became ragged and he had to try his best to stay concentrated.
"Careful, cariño." You hear him rasp out with a hint of danger. "You really don't want to go there."
Green light.
He puts the cigarette out and throws the tail away carelessly.
"Ay, Peña." Your voice goes an octave lower, licking your lips. "Don't act like you haven't been to every brothel in the city trying to fill in my spot."
The man huffs a laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. "I know what you're doing." You look at him through your lashes, faking innocence and confusion. "But if you really want me to say it, there hasn't been anyone else."
"Yeah, right..." That mocking tone was really getting on his nerves.
"Not even when we were together." Javi sulks out.
"Then why was it so difficult for you to be serious with me?" You question grimly. "Do you not like me?"
His eyes bore back into yours somberly, as if you'd just said the stupidest thing in the world despite the graveness in your voice and expression, lazily scanning you head to toe.
"Like you?" It sounded like he was struggling not to come off sardonic, cocking an eyebrow at you. "I can't believe you just asked me that."
You lean in towards him when he takes an unexpected turn, inhaling his particular scent mixed with the leather and smoke. Suddenly, he parks the car someplace dark and empty that resembled an abandoned gas station. Kind of creepy, but you recognized the area now. It was a neighborhood located a couple of blocks away from his apartment.
"Why?" You coo, taunting, patiently testing how much he'd spill. But Javier won't meet your glance, focused on the nothingness ahead of him.
"Because I can't even get my dick hard for any other women, for fucks sake!" He howls, rubbing his face with his palm, clearly pissed.
At first, you thought he must've been joking. But the way he said it came out so frustrated that it made it hard to believe he was lying. His bold statement gave you a rush of power, knowing that you had him in mind and body, the man that made every woman he acquainted feel like a schoolgirl crushing on a senior. You understood why he was so mad right now; it wasn't only cause he was jealous, but because he hated seeing that you could easily move on to the next man while he remained stuck.
Though it was a lie. You only responded to him and you wanted to prove him that. But Javier had to acknowledge the mistake he made.
"Perhaps you're just old." You teased, "Have you tried pills for that?"
His reaction was so unexpected that you had barely any time to process the circumstances. He got out the car and opened the passenger's seat, tugging at your arm to get you out the jeep apprehensively.
"Take a guess, sweetheart." He grits next to your ear, his chest pressed to your back.
"Fucking hell..." you mewl at the feeling of Javier's hard boner firm against your ass. His hands hold your waist for a second before manhandling you to the edge of the back passenger's seat, hunching down in front of you with both hands gently gripping the exposed flesh of your thighs and looking up at you with fiery eyes.
"If you want me to say it, fine." He bites, giving up. "I made a mistake. It was stupid." Then his tone denotes the way he's struggling to contain anger. "I can't bear it. Seeing you with other men... It drives me insane. I can't even think straight- shit, I almost blew a whole ass operation tonight just because I saw you dancing with that guy." You gulp, remembering how furious he was just a few moments ago. "But let's not fool ourselves, cariño. We both know you haven't slept with anyone else either."
How he figured that out was a mystery to you. Maybe he truly was a very good agent.
There isn't a retort in your behalf. What could you possibly say anyway? He had you figured out already, he always did.
Back in the day, when you first started working with him, Javier acted like a complete shithead. Him an Murphy would give you a hard time with the DEA, always getting in trouble, messing up your schedules and bribing confidential information out of you. That's how you grew closer to him. Peña used to invite you for dinner or beers as an apology, granted that he always looked forward to take you back to his apartment, of course. Except you had heard the rumors regarding his reputation, and that was a well in which you weren't particularly eager to fall in, specially since he was a coworker.
Yet, it was all in vain. How could you ever say no to him if he'd look at you with those sparkly, deep brown eyes that resembled a lost puppy? You fell for Javi's smug smirk, the groovy hair, plus that confident and bite-back attitude of his, knowing how it would eventually end. Even so, no one could really blame you. He acted different around you, people were able to tell, brighter, more open and honest.
"See, I'm sorry about what I said..." you start, but he cuts you off.
"Don't be. I deserved that shit." The man stands up, taking a bunch of keys from the pocket of his jeans and going to take off the cuffs. "You should feel sorry for all those poor guys you toyed with while thinking about me the whole time."
You stretch your arms and massage your wrists, unwilling to meet his intense gaze, conscious that you'd fall for his charm immediately. He worked smarter, grabbing your chin to raise your face towards him.
"Did you enjoy it?" He hissed, fingertips digging on your jaw with moderate force. "Having other men grab your ass while everyone watches? Teasing the hell out of me in the office with those obscenely tight skirts and talking to Murphy as if I wasn't right beside him?" Your tongue darts out to lick your lower lip, not breaking eye contact. "Answer me, corazón."
"Yes," you respond cockily, "I enjoyed it." His face swiftly sobered, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "But I didn't think it had any effect on you, so it felt like a waste of time and effort."
Javier laughs huskily, bending forward. You close your eyes, thinking he's going in for a kiss, but instead his lips go to rest on your jawline, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and all the way down to the valley of your breasts. As of now, you're a panting mess, already turned on by his adamant behavior. The fact that you were finally getting to feel him like this after a month or so of completely ignoring each other... It felt divine.
Your tug at his shoulder as he keeps nibbling the sensitive skin. The agent knew your body better than anyone else ever could, he'd memorized all the spots that would have you moaning and squirming underneath him, which was the case just now.
"Javi..." you sigh, running your hand through his hair.
"You're such a fucking brat." He reflects, kneeling between your parted legs. "A month ago I was merely a ghost to you, a few minutes prior I was simply 'Peña'. But when my lips are on you I'm suddenly 'Javi'?" He boasts with a devilish grin. "How convenient..."
"Mmm..." he laughs gruffly at your loss of words, his fingers hooking your underwear beneath the dress and slowly pulling it down.
At this point you're so wet it's embarrassing. It was probably due to the lack of sex you've had recently, or perhaps you were really growing fond of this new phase of his and the idea of Javier being possessive over you.
"Don't you dare look away." He warns roughly, peeling the fabric off you with a tad of your help. "Keep your eyes on me. I'll only tell you this once."
You nod eagerly. "Javi, are we- are we going to do it here?" It wouldn't be a new thing, you've done similar stuff in the past, though never in such an open space, despite appearing deserted. "Your place is barely a few blocks away..." His lips graze the soft skin of your upper leg, the feeling of his mustache raising goosebumps on your body.
"Can't wait." He stated, voice tinted with lust whilst his palm caresses your calf. "Need you now."
Somehow that made the pit of your stomach feel warmer. The rush of excitement coming from that desire he had for you had gave a thrill of control, completely ignoring how he was the one in charge of this situation. Javier carefully slips your dress upwards, taking in every single reaction you had to his touch and cursing at the sight of your throbbing pussy. The heat of his breath against your exposed core only increased your arousal, seemingly encouraging him.
"Shit, this cunt really did miss me, huh?" You nod again, basking in the contact of his nose brushing your clit, sending shivers down your spine.
In spite of your low whimpers of need, he deliberately denied you of his touch were you most needed him, simply roaming his lips and fingers over your inner thighs and pubic bone. Desperate, you scratch his scalp softly, pulling a groan from him.
"Javi, please..." he was definitely going to make you beg for it, regardless of how much he wanted it too.
"Did you let anyone else do this to you?"
"No." You breathe out.
"Good." His thumb suddenly falls on your clit, rubbing slow circles. You squeal from the spontaneousness of the action, squeezing your eyes shut for a second. "This is mine." Then he slides down his finger to slightly part your swollen lips, coating it with your slick. "All mine."
"Sí, Javi."
"That's right, corazón." He murmurs, slipping two digits into you. "I'm going to fuck you so good that you won't ever think about anyone else." He sets a pace pretty quickly, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them to hit all the right spots. "I'm the only man for you. Understand that?"
"Yes, shit-" you choke down a moan when he mildly pinches your nub. "You are."
He makes a satisfied noise before diving in your pussy, starting to lick and kiss your clit without pulling out his fingers, maintaining a relentless pace and rejoicing himself in the sounds he'd pull from you.
"Fuck, that's good..." you manage to say, knowing how he likes the praise, your hand messing up his hair.
Javier pulls away for a second, grabbing your thighs to part them further and place your legs over his shoulders eagerly, hungrily looking up at you. You arch your back, ever so responsive to him while struggling to maintain a hold of yourself.
"So pretty." He whispers, admiring how your chest goes up and down from your rag breathing, your face contorted by pleasure as his fingers disappear in your cunt, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the moans spilling from your lips making him painfully hard. "Toda mía."
Your legs were already shaking, your body being so sensitive and needy. Specially for him. Always for him. But it wasn't enough and you both knew that. Though before you can beg him for more, his mouth takes place were his digits used to be, eating you out as if you were his favorite meal, lapping you up kind of selfishly, almost like he did it for his own pleasure.
"Javi, that's-" you can't even form coherent sentences without being interrupted by your cries of pleasure. "Too fucking good."
His tongue is hot and soft between your folds, licking up your slit as he rubs tight circles on your clit, fucking you greedily and moaning graciously against your slickness. Also, the image of him between your legs was always a sight to see, adding to the pool of arousal. You start seeing white spots and the knot in your lower stomach starts to loosen as the orgasm approaches, gripping the leather seat as if your life depended on it. It's a good thing that he's holding you, cause in a matter of seconds your whole body starts to tremble and his name leaves your lips repeatedly.
"I can't- shit!" You pull his hair involuntarily and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your core and pushing you to the edge. "I'm gonna..."
You can't even finish speaking before you're coming undone in his mouth, feeling the hot waves of satisfaction wash over you. He doesn't pull away until you're practically whining from the overstimulation, trying to regain composure as he licks you clean. When he does, his eyes peer at you, intoxicated with desire as he starts to stand on his feet, towering over you.
"I missed that sweet taste of yours." He licks his glistening lips and you wish he'd finally kiss you. "Can't get enough of it."
Your hands reach his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but he takes your wrists to stop you.
"What's wrong?" You question, genuinely confused.
"I'm taking you to my apartment. I'm doing this properly." He retorts. However, you're too turned on now to care about the place.
"Please Javi, let me do something for you." One thing that made him go stupidly insane for you was the way you were never coy when asking for his cock, looking up at him with pleading eyes. As if having him on your throat gratified you. "I need you."
He almost caved in. Almost.
"Stop that or I'll cuff you again." He grumbles, only making you smile.
"Do it. I don't need hands, I can always take you in my mou-" Javier flips your body abruptly, pressing your face against the seat, and you can hear the familiar sound of metal clipping in.
"Such a greedy slut." He fixes your dress, not without subtly smacking your ass beforehand.
"Mm, can I at least get my panties back?" You ask in defeat, turning to face him, but he was already shutting the door.
"No." He quickly starts the car as you settle on the back, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and lips plump from biting them, eyes still sparkling from the high post-orgasm.
"Do you like me like this?" You wonder as he begins driving. "All fucked out, cuffed and ready for you to take?"
Peña doesn't answer immediately, not daring to look back at you but desperately wanting to do it.
"I do." He answers, eyes on the road. "I like you naked. And dressed too, specially with those pretty skirts. I like it when you tell me how your day was, or when you're reading quietly." His words make your heart flutter, blushing harder. "I like listening to your voice, and the way your gaze always seems interested whenever I talk about me. Shit, I even like you when you're ignoring me." You can almost hear his smile, if that made any sense. "I like you all the damn time, hermosa."
Honestly, you weren't expecting such a straightforward answer, finding yourself at loss of words. Nonetheless, you didn't need to say anything, cause sooner than expected you were being taken out of the truck, flashes of the building he resided in passed right in front of your eyes while he dragged you through the dark, silent halls.
"Javi..." despite having limited mobility, you lean towards him, whispering in his ear. "Please kiss me."
He laughs dryly at your plea and struggles to open the door. "You want that, huh? ¿Quieres que te bese?" Then he takes your arm to drag you in, closing the door behind him.
"Yes, mi amor. I missed you so fucking much." You stay close to him, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck. His hand brushes the hair out of your face and he presses his lips to your temple.
"Hm, is that right?" He hums and you can feel it against your nose. "Didn't seem so."
You back off swiftly, keeping your eyes locked with his. "I'm sorry, Javier. I really am."
Something shifts in his gaze, a possessive, deep emotion takes over him and he decides to take you up on your previous proposition.
"Prove it." He commands, voice hoarse. "Show me how much you missed me." The idea of getting what you wanted pursed your lips in a mischievous smirk. "I'll kiss you afterwards if I'm convinced."
Instead of responding, you start peppering kisses all over his jaw and neck, going as far along his chest as the buttons of his shirt would allow you. He lazily unbuckles his belt and pants while you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, but doesn't bother to go any further. It was going to be difficult, though nothing you haven't done before, nearly forgetting the cuffs as you craved his taste.
You rub the side of your face on his stiff erection, feeling how hard and hot he was under the tight fabric of his jeans and a low groan scratches his throat. You mouth at it before taking the zip between your teeth and sliding it down, eyes peering up at him at the same time. Javier observes every move attentively, his cock twitching at the sight of your lust-drunken gaze, breath starting to become unsteady when you kiss and lick the head of his dick over the thin fabric of his boxers. You taste the precum throughout it, salty and good, before pulling down his underwear by lightly biting the elastic.
Your mouth waters at the view, jaw going slack even before taking him in your mouth. His girth slaps against his clothed belly, tip red and leaking, just as big as you remember. Shit, you really had missed him. Javier's hand tangles in your hair, running his fingers in between the locks lovingly. He gasps when you press your lips to the slit, kitten licking the top and starting to spread wet kisses all over his length, running your tongue along the shaft, his musky scent getting to your head quite fast. He loved how every time you were on your knees for him it felt like you adored him, as much as Javier did you.
And it was true. Knowing how good you made him feel satisfied your senses, every expression and single noise he'd make could turn you on and push you to edge so easily. The man was simply delightful.
“Fuck, sweetheart…” he sighs, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb when you finally suck him in. “That’s it, wrap those gorgeous lips around my cock. So pretty…”
He lets out a gruffly moan as you take him further, watching as he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, the sound so divine that it immediately makes your pussy clench around nothing. Javier is thick. And it’s always so hard to get him all in your mouth, but this time you make a double effort. You run your tongue against the veins on the underside of his dick, enjoying the weight of it in you, the taste and the admirable sight of him coming undone while he tries his best not to start fucking your face without warning, laying his palms flat on the wall behind you.
“Shit- that’s…” he grumbles, head spinning from pleasure, unable to make up any thought or manifest anything into words. You start bobbing your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to provide more warmth.
You’re dripping, feeling the slick run down your thighs and the ache becoming unbearable. You squeeze your legs together in order to release some of that need, letting out a whine that vibrates through him and makes his hips jolt into your mouth.
“Fucking hell…” Javier’s hand snakes to the back of your neck, massaging the soft skin. “Does it turn you on to get me off like this, hermosa?”
You hum in response and the feeling sends him to oblivion, letting out a coarse moan that shocks another wave of hotness between your legs.
“What a nasty girl you are.” He mumbles breathily, “My girl.” He’s practically shaking at this point, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed against his pubic bone.
Air wasn’t a necessity at the moment, your ears ringing and the corners of your eyes watering. He warned you he was close but you didn’t back out, letting him hold you for support. He gasps out a raspy ‘fuck’ when he releases, hips stuttering and back arching slightly as his cum hits your tongue. You pull apart just enough to lap at the tip while he rides it out, feeling him throb in your mouth while you savor him until he’s completely spent, soft moans barely audible.
You wait until he opens his eyes again, brown gaze meeting yours between shaky breaths. “Will you uncuff me now, agent?”
He huffs a laugh, tugging himself back in his jeans before helping you get up and taking the metal cuffs off. For a second, none of you say a thing, simply staring back at each other with a swirl of emotions between you. But then he says your name, merely a whisper that makes you crumble.
“Don’t do that, Peña.” You scold, turning your back to him and walking towards the couch, taking a seat and listening to the leather crack under your weight.
“What do you mean?” He turns to you, hands on his hips, pants unbuttoned and hair messy.
“When you say my name like you need me and give me those puppy-dog eyes, I actually believe that you want me for anything other than sex.” He seems disappointed, mostly on himself. “So can we just fuck and get this over with?”
“Is that what you think I…?” Javier shakes his head and follows your direction, but only observes from above. “It’s not like that.”
You take off the heels, your feet starting to hurt. “Then how is it?”
His hand goes to your chin, urging you to look up at him. “I’m not good with this… I screwed up back in Texas and I did it again with you.” You gulp, your hands tightly gripping your knees. “I don’t know how to handle this sort of things, and it’s been a while since I felt like this for anyone…”
He takes the jacket off and sits on the edge of his coffee table in front of the sofa, cupping your face in his hands.
“All I know is that every time we’re together, nothing else matters. Things feel right. But when you’re not with me… Shit. Life becomes insufrible. I can’t sleep, can’t think, fuck, I can’t even have sex!” He looks genuinely irritated. “Everything’s about you when you’re away. And I can’t tolerate to see you with anyone else. It’s like someone just took a shot at me.”
You inhale sharply, taking his hand in yours without breaking eye contact. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve came back to you.”
“Precisely. I tried not to be selfish and let you go, but I can’t. It hurts too much.” He pouts, as if the mere thought made him sick. “And you deserve better.”
Inevitably, you roll your eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Peña.” He furrows his brows at your reply, his palm falling from your cheek to his lap. “That’s crap! You think you know what’s best for me?”
“Well shit, I’m sorry for trying to look out for you.” Javier snarls back.
“I don’t need you to do that, you idiot.” You grab his jaw, taking him by surprise. “I know what I want and I was straightforward about it,” His heart starts thumping against his ribs. “So, if you want me, take me. Cause if you don’t… Someone else might.”
Your statement stirs his pot and his expression shifts. “Fuck no. You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how this is going to work.”
“Yeah?” He lets out a throaty growl and leans down towards you.
“Yeah.” His mustache tickles your upper lip when he crashes his lips to yours and you whine into his mouth.
It was desperate and demanding, ripping all the emotions from you. Javier tasted like cigarettes, a hint of mint and of you. And you tasted like tequila, honey and of him. His cologne was a little faded, but you could still smell it.
“Say you’re mine, corazón.” He mumbles when he pulls back for air, forehead pressed to yours. “I don’t care if you’re lying, I need to hear it.”
You take him by the collar of his shirt so that he’s sitting down next to you, snaking your hand to press the palm against his bare chest.
“Soy tuya, Javi.” You tell him, laying a small kiss to his lips. “I mean it.”
He smiles cheekily as he pulls you on top of him, spreading your knees to each side of his thighs, your dress slipping upwards. Javier tugs a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers roam your face as if he wanted to memorize every edge of it by tact alone. His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip carefully, parting your lips briefly before going to kiss you again. This time he does it slowly, taking his time with your lips prior to sliding his tongue past your teeth and relishing on your taste, almost like he wanted to lose himself in you.
To him, the world meant nothing if you weren’t by his side. And now that you were here, he intended to make the most of it.
His hands are everywhere: your waist, hips, lower back and butt, grabbing every bit of your flesh that he could, keeping you close. So close that it almost seemed like he wished to merge into you. You made out for what it appeared to be hours, until the kisses got sloppier but never less passionate, and you started grinding against him. You hold his shoulders for support, creating that delicious friction between your naked cunt and his stiff boner tucked in his pants. He jolts his hips up, making you release a whimper in his mouth.
He backed off, his lips now scrape your jawline, neck and collarbones. You arch your back when his hand slithers to pull down the zipper of your dress, granting him a better view of your tits close to his face.
“My room?” He asks, biting your earlobe mildly.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Javi carries you to the bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist, still finding a way to keep his lips on you in the meantime. Clothes disappear in the blink of an eye and you sit at the end of the sheets to help him take off his pants, kissing his abdomen, your dress now discarded somewhere on the floor.
“Eres preciosa.” The way he says it makes you blush, skin burning under his chocolate gaze. “I’m all yours, mi amor.”
You bring his face close to yours, infatuated with his beauty. “All mine…”
“Yes, corazón.”
You lay down on the mattress, Javier starting to play with your hard nipples, nibbling at them, sucking and kissing with his attention focused on all your reactions. You’re so aroused that you’re quite literally dripping into his sheets, legs trembling from every light stimulation and skin scorching from desire, already spurred on by the make out and giving him head.
“Please, Javi… I- need you inside.”
He wastes no time to compel, maneuvering a hand to your lower back and aligning himself to your entrance, keeping your legs spread. You feel him inside, splitting you open with no previous warning and the tight grip of your cunt feels like homecoming to him. You hold your breath until he bottoms out, enjoying the sweet stretch he provided. Then your whole body quivers, a sheen layer of sweat covering both his golden skin and yours, a couple of curly locks sticking to his temples from it.
You watch him from below through hooded eyes, every inch of him inside you making you feel so full and complete, the outline of his fingers dig in your waist to keep you angled. You bear down on his cock, enveloping him in the warm, welcoming grasp of your body. He holds your hand above your head and leans down to kiss you again, drowning his own moans in your mouth as he draws out slowly to set a pace with his hips, the wet sounds of you pussy and skin clapping against skin sending a thrill of excitement down his spine.
You get it then, as he pours out all sentiment into you, overcome by passion. He is yours. Even though he just said it, only now does it become evident to you. This is Javier’s way of proving it.
He grabs one of your thighs and lifts your knee to the crook of his elbow, the new angle spreading you further open and allowing him to hit deeper. The impact of his tip hitting every right spot relentlessly forces you to break apart from his lips, your head thrown back into his pillows while practically screaming for more, his face nuzzled in your chest as he melts into you.
“Shit baby, I won’t last.” He warns, sinking his teeth to leave a mark between your breasts. You can feel it too, hot shots of ecstasy creeping up the pit of your stomach every time his cock jumps inside you.
You tug at his hair, a strangled moan escaping his lips. “Do it in me- Please, fill me up.”
Your request sends him right to the edge, his thrusts becoming careless as he starts grinding into you, Javi’s fingers quickly finding your swollen clit. The sole touch made you writhe and reach your high in absolute bliss, clenching your walls around him and crying out from raw pleasure. He fucks you through it, overwhelmed by the sensation. You feel dizzy, barely conscious when he finds his own release, your name spilling from his lips like it was the only word he knew, coming in warm spurts inside you. His spend is dripping from your pussy and thighs when he pulls out and sits up to admire the absolute mess he just made of you.
“Well…” he says, guiding his finger to push his seed back into you, making you whine from the overstimulation. “Hope that made it clear.”
You smile, every muscle in your body weeping from exhaustion. “Yeah… I’ll have to make you jealous more often.”
He groans in annoyance and you pull him back on top of you, spreading tender kisses all over his face, laughing in the meantime.
“Not funny.” He grumbles, despite the grin forming on his lips. Javier rolls to your side, coming to lay down next to you and immediately holding you against his sturdy chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you. “Stay with me.”
His plead is barely a murmur that filters through your ears and you’re too tired to figure out what those words actually mean. You simply let your eyelids drop and retort with a hardly audible ‘always’.
#javier peña#javier pena x reader#javier pena narcos#javier pena x you#javier pena one shot#javier pena x y/n#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction
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there’s something so erotic about a man who grabs your jaw when you keep avoiding his gaze so he can force your eyes on his
featuring: SOAP, afab reader, oral, spitting, mild dubcon (i.e. boundary crossing)
soap has always been intense. a bullet shot off in a steel room, bound to ricochet until it makes contact with something that can absorb its impact. you're in the right place at the right time: a bar, the gym he frequents, perhaps even a football game he'd been anticipating for weeks. it doesn't really matter what context he first spots you in – all that energy, that orderless enthusiasm he seems to prescribe to everything, sharpens to focus solely on you. bonnie wee thing that keeps sliding him wily looks, instilling in him a mission he knows he won't back down from.
at first it's how to approach you. easy enough; you like him too, that much he can tell. so when you eventually agree to a farmers market date (where he intends to spoil you rotten with food from every stall), it becomes about opening you up. figuratively at first, you have a hard time keeping up with him without getting overwhelmed. startled at how forthcoming he is, stunned at the manner in which he treats you. like he's known you for years, a childhood best friend you only met last tuesday. he calls right after your first date, asks you to accompany him for coffee before his morning run. shows up at your door unannounced, carrying tools to fix the fan you briefly complained wasn't working. is bold enough to sneak his hand on your thigh while you're watching a movie later that evening, gradually moving higher as your breath begins to falter.
he spares no effort once things get sexual, either. if you expect him to go easy for your first time, you'll come to sorely regret the mistake. quick to slip out of his too-tight shirt, even quicker to spread your legs out on your couch. manages to get your joggers off but opts to merely shift your panties to the side, fingers hooked in the thin material (which he will pocket later). when he envelops your entire cunt with his mouth, his tongue digs into every fold, every hole if it means he can swallow down the smallest part of you.
taste s’good hen, bloody mad wae it
only you’re not looking at him. instead, you’ve thrown your head back, too lost in the pleasure to pay attention to the show he’s putting on for you. why exactly, he's not sure. he’s being good, isn’t he? giving you everything you need? his heart races a mile per minute and something needy, something dark twists within him. he laves his tongue over your hole once more, collecting the juices that pour for him and gathering it behind his teeth alongside a hefty glob of saliva.
when he moves up your body, he tucks your chin in his palm, pulling your head down to face him.
it's too much. too much. he doesn't seem to realise it, but you're breathing is still inconsistent and shallow, and you're about to cry from overstimulation. now he's forcing eye contact, nose kissing yours, and pressing down on either side of your jaw so you're forced to open your mouth wide. you know what's coming, see it from the way his cheeks move. it's all you can do to brace yourself for the inevitable, unable to voice your aversion to the kink. fisting your hands, tensing your throat. but it's as you close your eyes that his self-restraint snaps.
so, he spits. it's thick and messy and heady with the smell of your sex. he doesn't even aim it properly. a significant amount of it lands on your lip, some even on your nose. your tongue gets the brunt of it though, the new weight of fluid causing you to gag. yet his pupils are blown so wide they're barely blue anymore, a cerulean ring around bottomless black, fixated on the sloppy state of your mouth, and it's hard to deny him anything that boils him down to such a state. like a puppy. over-eager and exhilarated when you indulge him so.
you never learn to like it, though it becomes a routine thing.
#written on my phone and unedited#have some garbage or whatever#also applies to price because i can definetely imagine him forcing you still so he can blow cigar smoke onto your face#johnny 'soap' mactavish#johnny 'soap' mactavish x reader#soap x reader#soap#cod#call of duty#thirst#x afab reader
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Lately I've been dying with stress induced migraines and was wondering if I could request the 141 or any character of your choosing to take care of the reader suffering from them??
MIGRAINES (Ghost x GN!Reader)
ghost masterlist
[WARNINGS; medicine/drugs, inaccuracy of medicine stuff, inaccuracy of military, fluff, physical hurt/comfort, mention of overdosing, it’s implied you do not have regular sleeping problems.]
You know a migraine is about to come on when you’re looking down at the paper in front of you—something about a past mission—and you can’t see the lower right corner of the paper. You blink harshly and rub your eyes, the blotch not leaving which leads you to believe it’s a migraine aura. A heavy feeling forms in the bottom of your stomach, a weird sensation blooming in the nape of your neck. You put the paper down for a moment and rub your eyes—it’s only Tuesday and this will be your second migraine.
You feel frustration ebb at your nerves as tears threaten to spill, causing you to let out a shuddery breath. You stand up from the office chair you’re sitting in, near your desk in your barracks. You decided that you should warn the Captain about your aura and that you would need some rest for the incoming day and maybe even tomorrow.
You can already feel the light sensitivity setting in. It doesn’t hurt just yet as you open your door and you’re forced to be under fluorescent lights, but you can tell your tolerance is lower than usual. You offer quiet greetings to those who you pass in the hall, making your way across base to the offices. You squint a bit more, the muscles surrounding your eyes tensing. You can’t help but wonder why they use such shitty lighting in an office space.
You stop in front of a door with a name plate labeled “CPT. JOHN PRICE”, and you knock on the door a couple of times. You hear his gruff voice, saying something along the lines of come in. You open the door and close it behind yourself, looking at Price who is looking up from his paperwork; probably surrounding the last mission like yours is, too. “I feel another migraine coming on, Captain. I came to ask for the day off.”
Price’s eyes narrow for just a moment in concern. He knows your history with migraines, and how they’re usually induced by stress. “Alright, but you make sure to go see medical if it persists, yeah?” Price says with a lifting tone, but it’s not a question, it’s an order. You go to open your mouth, but Price beats you to it. “I know they can’t do much for you, but those painkiller cocktails are very much worth it.”
You close your eyes as a wave of nausea passes over you, causing you to freeze for a moment. The man in front of you utters your name which prompts your eyes to open back up. His eyes are scanning your face. eyebrows lifting ever so slightly to prompt an answer. You press your lips together and give him a nod; those cocktails are lifesavers, but they don’t last as long as you need them to. You’re thankful for his suggestion anyway. Price gives you a firm nod. “Hope to see you tomorrow feeling better, sergeant.”
“Thank you, Captain.” You reply before leaving his office, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to stave off that beginning twinge of pain beginning in the base of your skull.
Something was off—Ghost could feel it in his bones. When you don’t show up for morning PT, he knows something is off, especially when for the second time in a few days, Price hands him a signed off medical emergency paper from you. It contained no details, nothing other than “1 day medical absence” signed by Price himself. It left Ghost feeling uneasy; you are not the type to do this type of thing, even when you had the seasonal flu, it was like the entire 141 had to lecture you to slow down, or maybe even rest a bit.
Ghost half expects you to show up anyway, but just like a few days ago, you are nowhere to be found. Ghost finds some free time a bit after 1500, so he makes his way towards medical. Perhaps you were physically injured? He steps into the infirmary and is met with a few pairs of eyes, a couple of them shocked to see him. “Lieutenant! How can we help you?” A medic at a cart parked against the wall asks, quickly packing up something he was doing. Ghost utters your name, glancing around. “Are they here?” He grunts.
“No, sir,” The medic replies. “They did stop by for some treatment, though.” Ghost’s eyebrows furrow for a moment; treatment? Treatment for what? Ghost doesn’t bother to ask, knowing the medics wouldn’t likely tell him anyway, so he murmurs a shirt thank you before leaving the infirmary. He racked his brain—what possibly could keep you out of commission willingly when not even a GSW would? Ghost then decides right then that he will head for your barracks.
He makes his way across base, going from the infirmary unit all the way across to the on-base barracks. Gears are turning in his head as he tries to not jump to conclusions—is there a physical injury he’s not being told about?—and Ghost is failing. You’re one of the couple of folks who don’t have a roommate, so he knocks with a purpose as there isn’t anyone else to worry about bothering. He waits for a few moments and is greeted with silence, so he knocks again with a loud and deep, “Sergeant?”
Ghost is met with silence again, which doesn’t soothe his nerves. He tries the doorknob and to his surprise—and concern—it works. Ghost slowly opens the door to find your room in complete darkness, the only light being the one from the hall which is illuminating your bed. He sees you hunched over in your bed, wrapped in your blankets with your face half buried into your pillow. Near your bed is a TV tray stand with two plastic bowls with separate washcloths hanging off of the side of the bowls. There’s an orange medicine bottle and a small white medicine bottle next to a half empty water bottle and another full unopened bottle.
Ghost closes the door behind himself as he walks over to you, narrowly avoiding the TV tray stand. He peels back the velcro of one of his gloves before removing it, pressing the back of his hand to the part of your forehead that is exposed. Your temperature feels fine at first so he turns his hand over and presses his wrist to the small part of your forehead and he receives the same result. Ghost blinks for a moment, noting that you have no fever. Immense relief floods over him; he’s not exactly sure why.
He calls your name and puts a hand on your arm, shaking you ever so slightly. You don’t move a muscle, but you’re breathing just fine. Ghost looks over at the bottles of medicine and leans over, grabbing both of them. He reads “Zaleplon” and “Rizatriptan”. With a quick google search on his phone, he finds out they are both prescribed medications, which makes his eyebrows furrow in confusion. You have prescribed medications? For sleeping and migraines? You’ve never mentioned this before.
Ghost puts them back down on the TV tray stand and he shakes your shoulder a bit more forcefully as it seems you’re really asleep. He feels bad, knowing he should just let you rest, but he doesn’t know if you’ve eaten. He has no idea if you have only drunk that one bottle of water all day, if you have left to go to the bathroom—nothing. He calls your name louder which still does not harbor a response from you, making his gut tighten once again.
He knows it’s the anxiety talking, that you would be careful with medicine, careful enough to not take too much—but he can’t help but still worry. Ghost doesn’t know that maybe you forgot you took a sleeping pill before popping another, putting you in a deeper sleep. Your breathing seems fine, so you’re definitely not struggling in that department. Maybe you’re just sleeping heavier than usual?
But what if you did take more than needed? What if this is you in the middle of an overdose? You are indeed turned over, your face halfway smushed into the pillow. That’s enough to strike anxiety into Ghost’s soul so he grabs your shoulder and forcefully rolls you onto your back, a heavy relieved sigh leaving him when he doesn’t see any vomit or excess saliva on your pillow or hoodie. Your skin is its usual color, as well as your lips. Ghost’s fingers grab your wrist to feel your pulse, counting the beats. Your heart rate is fine.
So why are you not waking up? And why is he so anxious about it?
Ghost calls your name even louder and his shoulders relax when he hears a quiet groan leave your lips. Your closed eyelids squeeze together for a moment before an expression of pain floods your face, causing Ghost to press his lips together underneath his balaclava. “There ya are,” Ghost murmurs, putting a hand on your shoulder. Your eyes flutter open and they land on Ghost after a moment. “Ghost,” You breathe out, pain lacing your tone.
The room is dark so you’re both struggling to see each other, but Ghost doesn’t mind. If it helps your head, he will gladly squint. “Have ya eaten?” He grunts out, his voice rumbling and low in his chest. You let out a tired breath and rub your eyes, taking a moment to answer. “What time is it?” You croak, your hands moving from your eyes to your temples. Ghost pulls out his phone, it being too dark to look at his watch. “1321.” He replies, making you inhale sharply and let out a groan. “Shit, didn’t mean to sleep that long.” You slur ever so slightly.
“Did’ja miss a dose?” Ghost questions, and you let out a quiet “mhm”. You hear Ghost reach over to the TV tray stand, but you can’t tell what he’s doing. You hear one of the medicine bottles pop open. His hand finds yours and gives you a pill, and then you hear the water bottle crinkle. “Up.” He orders, and you comply, sitting up just enough to take the medicine. You wince at the change in angle so easily irritates your pounding skull, but you appreciate the soothing water running down your throat. Ghost caps the water bottle and puts it back. You hear water sloshing around and one of the washcloths being wrung out, and you flinch ever so slightly when you feel a cold washcloth being tucked underneath your head and against the nape of your neck.
“When did you start ‘aving migraines?” Ghost asks. His tone isn’t accusatory, but it’s clear he’s confused on why he was never let known. He’s also your superior next to Price, looked over the necessary files. You let your eyes shut, focusing on the cold feeling seeping underneath your skin. You appreciate the man keeping his voice down. “Always had ‘em, but they’re stress induced. They aren't constant.” You reply, your voice also remaining low, barely disturbing the silence of your room. “Had one a day or two ago, guess that shit never left.” You joke, earning a huff from Ghost. “Y’didn’t answer my question. When’s the last time you have eaten?” Ghost inquires, making you let out a sigh. “Mm, maybe 4 or 5 hours ago,” You hum. “I should go grab something soon, helps the medicine kick in faster.”
Ghost shakes his head even though you can barely tell. “No need, I’ll grab it. Are you experiencing nausea?” Ghost stands up from the bed, the mattress leveling out. “A bit, yeah. Could you grab something light on the stomach?” You request, your fingers grabbing your blanket as a warm fuzzy feeling in your gut begins to distract you from the pounding in your temples. “‘Course.” And with that, Ghost leaves you with your thoughts for the time being. You don’t understand why he’s being so nice and generous—it’s not like Ghost is not nice, but he’s usually more teasing and serious about getting shit done.
To be fair, the last time you got injured, he also took care of you. You had earned a nasty brush with death after being too close to a large explosion. You had been thrown back into a wall, crashing through the other side, earning you a broken shoulder and a piece of wood through the major artery in your thigh—as well as the classic severe concussion, of course. This happened about a year ago and when your shoulder aches, Ghost somehow knows and offers to rub cream into it. It’s similar to Soap’s knee pain, so he knows what to do. Countless nights over a year of rubbing cream into the part of your shoulder that you can’t reach, the words left unspoken between you two?
Ghost returns with a light meal for you as well as a cup of ice water, knowing it’ll help you more than your room temperature water bottles. Something about Ghost being so domestic over this past year up to now, taking care of you and bringing you food, rubbing cream into your shoulder when needed, when he took you to those temporary physical therapy appointments for your shoulder? Something snapped inside of you and you could never look at him in the same friendly way and by the way he looks and speaks to you, it seems to be the same for him.
#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x gn!reader#simon ghost riley x gn!reader#simon riley x gn!reader#call of duty#call of duty mwii#cod mw2#cod#mw2022#modern warfare ii#mw2 2022#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley#ghost#modern warfare fanfiction#modern warfare 2 x reader#cod modern warfare
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𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓— gojo satoru
pairing: gojo satoru x gn reader
summary: rumor has it you're dating gojo satoru
genre: fluff, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, humor(?)
notes: i just think he's the type of dude to do this, sort of an au bc geto never goes rogue. HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOJO !!
wc: ~1.8k
"hey, wanna go get lunch?"
you come to a stop when you hear a low voice, turning around just in time to see gojo approach you. his hair is styled, you note, white strands falling gracefully and framing his face in a way that you haven't seen since the two of you were in high school. his usual blindfold is nowhere to be seen, and your eyebrows furrow slightly when you notice a new pair of sunglasses perched on the slope of his nose.
"what?"
"do you want to join me for lunch?" he asks, leaning against the wall as you glance at the time on your phone. you tuck it back into your pocket before looking at the folder in your hand, turning to glance in the direction of your office before giving gojo a nod.
"sure! just let me drop this off in my office, yeah?" you say, smiling when he nods in agreement. "i'll be quick and on the way back i'll stop and ask shoko if she wants to join us."
you whirl back around to make your way to your office, only to be stopped when gojo clears his throat.
"actually, i meant you," he begins, shoulders tense as he motions to you with his hand before pointing to himself. "and me. just us getting lunch at that cafe you really like."
"oh! okay, yeah that sounds good," you chirp, feeling slightly confused as you give him a little thumbs up. he relaxes at your words, nodding slightly as he watches you. "i'll be right back and than we can head out!"
gojo's eyes never leave your form as you disappear down the walkway, and he takes a few deep breathes before turning around and slipping his phone out of his pocket before sending a text to shoko and suguru.
satoru: they said yes.
lunch at the cafe ends with you and gojo meeting up at the end of the day and getting dinner as well. it isn't until you're out of breath, laughing way too hard over a silly story gojo shares with you, that you realize that the two of you haven't hung out together in a long time.
high school is probably the last time you can recall going out with gojo alone. the difference in your skill levels meant that the two of you didn't really cross paths after graduating, especially with the way that gojo always seemed to be sent out on mission after mission by the higher ups. any and all hangouts were usually coordinated by shoko or suguru, and most of the time gojo wasn't able to have a full conversation with you due to having to take care of a more-than-tipsy suguru.
you can't help but focus on the way your heart seems to ache with longing as you watch gojo laugh along with you, and it's in that moment that you realize that you've missed the teasing, smug boy that you knew well before life became just a little bit more cruel. the way he looks at you after your laughter dies down makes you wonder if he missed you as well.
"here's your check!"
"oh, thank you," you say to the waiter, reaching over to grab the slim book. gojo's hand intercepts your path, snatching the check presents away before you can even attempt to stop him. "hey!"
"dinner's on me," he says with a grin, sliding his card into the clear sleeve before handing it back to the waiter. your eyes remain locked on gojo even as the waiter walks away, a scowl on your face as you stare him down.
"you paid for lunch," you state, your eyes darting down to his lips when they pull up into a slight smirk.
"yeah."
"so dinner was supposed to be on me," you argue, clamping your mouth shut when the waiter returns with gojo's card. he takes it from him with a smile, messily signing the receipt before sliding out of his seat. his lips part into a handsome grin as he holds an arm out to you, eyes sparkling as he waits for you to link your arm with his. you rise from your seat reluctantly, gingerly slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow and letting him lead you outside.
it isn't until he's holding the door open for you, watching as you cross the threshold, that he finally speaks once more, tilting his face down to let you catch a glimpse of the teasing glint in his eye.
"besides, what kind of date would i be if i let you pay?"
gojo seems to become a permanent fixture in your life after your shared lunch and dinner.
you can't find it in yourself to complain about the new development, especially not when you're standing in your kitchen and you feel gojo's hand press against your lower back as he squeezes past you, giving you a soft smile as he tries to steal a bite of whatever you're cooking. those nights usually end with you swatting at him until you push him out of the kitchen, rolling your eyes and ignoring the way your heart lurches when he wraps his arms around you in a loose hug in an attempt to tug you along with him.
hangouts with shoko and suguru also become more common, and the four of you often find yourselves meeting up for drinks or a movie night, sometimes joined by nanami when he deigns to grace you with his presence. it's during these times that your emotions get the best of you, seeing everyone talking and laughing so happily that it almost feels like nothing ever went wrong. like amanai riko and fushiguro toji never happened.
and when gojo notices your sudden quietness and wordlessly wraps an arm around your shoulders to tuck you close to his side, you feel yourself falling just a little bit more for the white-haired sorcerer.
you're not surprised to find out that somewhere along the way, you've fallen for gojo satoru. a part of you believes that it was inevitable; he's always shone so brightly, drawing people in regardless of whether or not they're aware of the fact. you just happen to be the latest victim.
although your heart yearns to be closer to him, you know that you're content with being nothing more than friends. satoru is someone who is easy to admire, and you're all too happy to admire from a distance, content to bask in the tenderness that accompanies every friendly moment you've shared with him thus far. his status as a special grade sorcerer also takes up a large portion his life, and you fear that attempting to be anything more than friends with him would only end in you being a distraction.
but that all changes three months after the dinner with satoru that started it all.
"you're both late."
"sorry about that!" you apologize, giving shoko a sheepish smile as you slide into the seat satoru had pulled out for you. his knee bumps against your thigh as he takes his own seat, and you feel your smile grow a little wider when he leaves it resting against your own.
"what? were the two of you too busy making out in his car or something?" suguru chimes in, stifling a laugh when he sees your eyes go wide. you don't get the chance to respond as the waiter approaches, and you're saved the embarrassment of attempting to stutter out your drink order when satoru butts in and says it for you.
suguru wiggles his eyebrows playfully as you give him a flat look, and your mild annoyance dissipated when you feel satoru take your hand in his as he begins to play with your fingers. easy conversation begins to flow, and before you know it, you're enjoying your favorite drink and teasing suguru for the things he drunkenly did at your last get-together.
"so," shoko begins once there's a lull in the conversation, eyes glinting mischievously as she lets her gaze flit between you and satoru. "now that it's been a couple months i gotta say, i didn't think satoru would ever actually work up the courage to ask you out to lunch."
"what do you mean?" you ask, missing the way satoru's hand freezes against yours.
"i just didn't think he'd actually go through with it," shoko says with a shrug. "but i gotta say, i'm glad the two of you are dating. you both seem a lot happier lately and it's nice to see."
"dating?" you ask, tensing up at her words. the entire table seems to freeze at your question, and you're met with confused expressions from everyone as you glance around the table.
"yeah," shoko answers cautiously, sharing a bewildered look with suguru.
"what?" you ask dumbly, blinking slowly before turning to satoru just in time to see him nodding. "since when."
"since," shoko says, pulling out her phone and scrolling through some messages. she hums when she finds what she's looking for, turning the screen to show you a message from satoru three months back saying "they said yes". "three months ago according to this text."
"what?" you repeat, shaking your head lightly to try and gather your thoughts.
"yeah," satoru says quietly, a soft laugh leaving his lips as he lets go of your hand. "i asked you out on a date."
"no, you didn't," you say in response, turning your body to face him.
"yes, i did," he insists, running a hand through his hair before pointing to shoko's phone. "three months ago. lunch at the cafe, remember?"
"you asked me to eat lunch with you. you never said it was a date!"
"oh, i didn't?" he asks, head tilting slightly to the side as he tries to remember.
"no!"
"oops!"
"what do you mean 'oops!'," you hiss, leaning back in your seat as you cross your arms. "this entire time i've been dealing with my feelings for you only to find out that you've been telling people we've been together this entire time!"
"well is it too late to ask you to accept all our hangouts these past few months as dates?" he asks cheekily, grinning at your confession. you huff at his words, softening slightly when he leans forward to rest his head against your shoulder. "please?"
"fine," you mutter, squeaking when he leans up to press a kiss to your cheek. the laughs from shoko and suguru remind you that the two of you aren't alone, and you feel your cheeks heat up when the realization that they've witnessed everything hits.
"well," you start, raising your gaze to finally address shoko's original comment about your (new?) relationship. your breath catches in your throat when satoru lifts your joined hands, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and earning a smug smile from suguru. "i gotta say, i'm also very glad that the two of us are dating."
satoru snorts at your words, and you roll your eyes as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around you. his gaze doesn't leave you as he speaks, even though his words are also in response to shoko.
"yeah, i'm definitely happier."
reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!
#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo satoru fluff#jjk imagine#gojo imagine#gojo satoru imagine
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Secret Lovers
Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader
Simon wasn’t someone who very willingly opened up to anyone, his teammates were no exception either, save for Price. It was always better to keep things quiet and let people assume what they pleased instead of trying to answer their questions. Better to remain mysterious than show your cards to the wrong person.
a/n:this was originally started because of a snippet @thebeesatemyknees had written, thank you so much for letting me turn this into a full fic! I hope I was able to do it proper justice
warnings:none, just tons of fluff
Part 2
Simon wasn’t someone who very willingly opened up to anyone, his teammates were no exception either, save for Price. It was always better to keep things quiet and let people assume what they pleased instead of trying to answer their questions. Better to remain mysterious than show your cards to the wrong person. Johnny had badgered him from day one if he had a partner, going on and on about how much he loved his girlfriend. SImon wasn’t going to tell him anything, no matter what he’d keep his lips sealed.
Kyle was the next one to ask, though it was more in passing rather than a true and genuine question when he cornered the older man. They had been discussing mission details when the topic arose, did he have a next of kin? And if so, who would be the one to inform them if Ghost were to be KIA’d? He never asked Simon after that day, instead going on to different topics whether they had to do with the mission or what they wanted to eat. Kyle treated him like a friend, it was nice.
And John, well he knew all about Simon’s personal and very private life.
~~~
You were a new addition to the team, a medic that could stitch up a wound within a minute and get you back on the field within five. They were thankful to have you come around with them, helping stitch up a wound on Johnny’s arm, or cleaning up a gash on Kyle’s head. The only person who seemed to be a little wary around you was Simon, which both Johnny and Kyle felt odd. You fit in their group like the puzzle piece that was missing, and yet Simon acted as if he wanted nothing to do with you. Surely he’d warm up to you a little more, they were all sure of it.
“Thank you all for meeting me on such short notice. We’ve got word that an arms dealer is hosting a gala and we need to get more intel before we can swoop in.” Kate was a woman who took no shit and left no prisoners, she wasn’t going to risk this.
“Who do we want to send?” John was nervous, his men were trained for this, but putting them into a situation where they’d have to become someone else entirely? Nerve wracking.
“I was discussing it with Shepherd last night, and we’ve decided that Simon and Y/N will be going on this mission while the rest of you stake out the building.” All eyes suddenly shifted to Simon who looked calm as ever.
He’d forgone the mask for this mission briefing, knowing that only his teammates and Kate would be in the room with him. Knowing that you were going to be there made things a little more tense, could he handle something that dire?
“If you think that’s what’s best, I fully support the decision.” John wasn’t going to argue, Simon could be suave and charm the pants off of anyone if needed.
“Thank you, we’ll be heading out tomorrow and meeting up at the hotel. Promise me you’ll behave so no one suspects you, please.” Kate knew how much of a troublemaker that Johnny and Kyle could be, given the opportunity of course.
“I’ll make sure of it myself if need be, don’t you worry.” John smiled up at her, leaving Kate to wonder how much trouble there would be.
They would need to debrief you on the plane ride over, given that you weren’t even in the room with everyone. Having something like that just dumped on you with no time to prepare was the worst, how could they manage? Simon would just have John give you the rundown so he could worry about more important things, like how he’d have to act like the two of you were so desperately in love.
You would have an entire day to get comfortable in the hotel room, there would be a few people lingering so you’d get used to being stared at. Simon knew they’d mainly be staring at you, you were downright gorgeous. And with the clothes that had been picked out? A deep navy blue tux, with a pitch black button up and black silk tie. It perfectly matched the dress they’d picked out for you, a deep V down the front that left just enough to the imagination. The color matched his tux almost identically, the only difference was your dress was silk.
“They’ve packed everything for you to do your own hair and makeup, we don’t want you to stand out too much, better to blend in.” It was the smartest idea, if you or Simon were to attract too much attention things would end badly.
“Yeah, Kate told me as much as she could, I made sure to pack my best heels.” You were nervous, it’d been so long since you’d been able to go out to something fancy.
“Are you sure you can handle this?” John knew you were smart and quick witted, but something about this mission unnerved him.
“I’m positive, Simon and I will get the intel and get out before anyone even notices we’re missing.” You were confident everything would go smoothly, Simon could be silent if needed.
John nodded at you, settling back into his seat as the plan began to descend down onto the tarmac below. Simon was staring at you from across the way, palms sweating slightly as the time drew closer to getting inside the hotel. Johnny was going to see how nervous he was and make comments, he was sure of it. The sound of tires squealing brought everyone’s attention to high alert. It was time to grab your things and head to the cars, you were driving over with Simon, leaving the other three to their own car.
It was mainly to not raise any suspicion, if you were seen driving with any man that wasn’t your husband word would spread before you managed to make it to the party. You were absentmindedly playing with your ring, twirling the obnoxiously large diamond with your other fingers. It was a habit you picked up whenever you tended to wear jewelry, though it was much better than picking at your cuticles.
“You feeling alright hun?” Simon glanced over at you, though his own nerves were shot, he wanted you to feel comfortable.
“A little nervous, but that’s to be expected considering the circumstances.” You kept twirling the ring, glancing between Simon and the road ahead of you.
Simon took a quick breath and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together without skipping a beat or taking his eyes off the road. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, you had been waiting to see how long it took before he finally felt comfortable around you. You’d need to practice around everyone else if you were going to look natural around a bunch of strangers. Everything was going to be just fine, you were sure of it.
John had set up everything in the hotel room, along with hanging up your dress and Simon’s tux to help steam out any wrinkles if needed. So far there was nothing to worry about, save for Soap acting like a little shit and pranking Simon and Kyle for the most part. You’d all settled in, changing into comfortable clothes and ordering food so that you wouldn’t have to leave. Simon was cleaning up the kitchen so he could sit down and enjoy dinner with you.
“Do you need any help?” You walked over to him, pressing your hand against his lower back.
“Nah, just need to finish cleaning this plate and we can eat.” Simon smiled at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.
“Whatever you say.” You patted his back gently, heading over to the small kitchen table.
Johnny raised a brow at how you and Simon seemed to naturally work with one another, he didn’t want to raise any suspicion. Kyle on the other hand was ignoring him entirely, digging into his own meal and scrolling through his phone. Simon had finally finished, grabbing his plate of food and heading over to sit with you. He could faintly hear that you were both discussing the mission and going over your alias’ one last time.
“Simon, you need to wear your ring.” You’d gotten on his case the entire day, he kept taking it off complaining that it felt weird to wear it.
“I’ll wear it during the mission tomorrow.” Simon brough the fork to his mouth, focusing on his plate rather than your raised brow.
“You say that now, but when we end up leaving you’re going to forget it and then we’re going to have to drive all the way back because you won’t wear your ring.” You had put yours on right away, mainly because you were forgetful and didn’t want to end up forgetting it.
“Are you really going to make me wear the ring all night?” Simon’s expression would normally terrify a recruit, but you’d gotten used to it.
“If I want to make sure you have your ring on? Yes, I’m going to make you wear your ring until we get back on that plane and go back home.” You’d glue it on if need be, but Simon knew better than to disobey orders.
John chuckled to himself watching the two of you, it was a dynamic he hadn’t seen in quite a while and it was pretty funny to witness. Johnny on the other hand was now even more flabbergasted at the way you worked together. Why did you seem so comfortable arguing with a man who’d killed for less? This was something sinister and it unnerved him to no end, he’d get to the bottom of this.
You’d offered to clean up everyone’s dinner dishes, carefully cleaning any knives before laying them on a towel to be dried by Simon. He walked over to where you were, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull your bodies flush together. Johnny’s jaw dropped open as he slapped Kyle’s arm to get his attention. The playful bickering was one thing, but watching Simon the Ghost Riley be so affectionate?
“Damn, he’s a good actor.” Kyle watched the way you and Simon began to sway gently, giggling at something he’d whispered into your ear.
“Scarily good, didn’t think he had it in ‘em.” Johnny shook his head, turning back towards the computer in front of him.
It wasn’t until the sound of someone kissing caught their attention once more. Simon had dipped you, lips pressed against yours as his arms wrapped around your waist. Johnny’s jaw dropped wide open, well if you weren’t together already that was surely going to change. You pressed your hands against Simon’s chest, laughing happily as you stared up at him.
“Cap, do ya think Lt and the medic are gonna get together after all this?” Johnny had high hopes, no one gets kissed the way Simon kissed you and simply part ways.
“What’re you talking about?” John barely lifted his gaze from the screen, typing up the pre mission notes to help catch up on them before.
“Simon’s practically tonguing the medic! He’s gonna woo her.” He waggled his brows at the older man, cackling when John rolled his eyes.
“Oh, yeah that’s not gonna happen.” John’s attention focused back on the task at hand.
Johnny’s laughing abruptly halted, what the hell had he meant that Simon wasn’t going to woo the medic, it was obvious! Clearly John had no idea what he was talking about, Johnny could see the little twinkle in your eye from across the room.
“Gaz, am I wrong or do ye think Ghost and medic are gonna end up together?” He was determined to get someone to agree with him.
“Oh, if they don’t I’m asking for her number for him.” Kyle may have had a slight crush on you, not that he’d ever admit it.
John sat upright in his chair, focusing on Johnny and Kyle who thought they were being more subtle than they actually were.
“Have you ever looked at their name tag by chance?” John wanted to see if the other two would finally catch on.
Both Johnny and Kyle shook their heads, neither of them had a reason to over analyze your name tag when they had injuries to be taken care of. He sighed softly to himself before glancing over to you and Simon. You were laughing at some bad joke Simon had whispered to you, a bright smile on his face.
“Her last name is Riley.” John watched as realization dawned on their faces.
You’d been married this entire time and no one, besides Price, was none the wiser. How the hell had you managed to keep it hidden from everyone? Then again Simon wasn’t the most overly friendly or affectionate when it came to anyone. You were his wife though, that was different! Surely you could bring out a different side of him, something that no one usually got to…of course.
“Would’ve been nice to know at least.” Johnny shrugged off his disappointment, this was a big thing to keep hidden away.
“It wasn’t my place to tell, just remember that.” John wanted to respect your privacy, it was the least he could do considering your line of work.
Johnny and Kyle understood why Price hadn’t admitted to questions about your relationship, but knowing the truth? It felt good. They watched the way you and Simon danced to the music playing from your phone. Simon’s arms were wrapped around your waist, pressing kisses all over your face as you tried to squirm away. It was a side of their teammate they’d never thought to see, and no one outside of this hotel room would ever get to see it.
At least, not until after the mission of course.
tagging: @gaylemonshark
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#ghost call of duty#ghost mw2#simon riley fluff#simon riley fic#simon riley fanfic#john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#kate laswell
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