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munsonslove · 2 years

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Open Drawers

(18+ only)

summary: You forget to close the drawer to your nightstand and your best friend accidentally finds your vibrator.

wordcount: 4.3k

tags/warnings: fem!reader, slight softdom!eddie, friends to lovers, smut, use of sex toys, praise kink (good girl), very slight degradation (he calls you a slut once), pet names (sweetheart, princess), spit used as lubricant, edging, overstim, no use of y/n

a/n: i teased this fic a while ago, sorry it took me a bit to actually post it but i hope you like it anyway!! requests are open and much appreciated, if i know someones actively waiting for me to write something for them i’ll be more likely to not spend a whole ass month on it lmao

It’s been weeks of torture. Ever since Eddie found out about your ‘little secret’ he’s refused to let it go, bringing it up as often as he can just to humiliate you further. It was cruel behavior, especially from the man you consider your best friend. Though you can’t be too surprised, considering he’d always had an affection for teasing you. In the past it had always been rather playful and innocent- maybe just ever so slightly suggestive- but you were generally able to ignore his flirtatious comments and retain your close relationship (no matter how much they made your pining heart flutter). It had been almost a month since everything changed.

Nobody was home when you returned from your shift, and inspecting the refrigerator revealed a note left to you from your roommates stating that they would be gone for the rest of the night. The news was passed along through phone call to your best friend before you even changed out of your work clothes, and within the hour Eddie had arrived at your door with a six-pack of beer and a relaxed grin. He entered without knocking (having been given a spare key from the day you moved in) and found you sprawled out on the couch, movie just starting with a large bowl of popcorn already made. You don’t even bother sparing him a glance up as he kisses the crown of your head before plopping down directly on top of you.

You try and fail to kick him off. Admittedly you may have been able to muster more strength for the task if you hadn’t been laughing at his typical antics. Failure becomes even more set in stone when his hands find their way to your sides and you dramatically call out “uncle, uncle!” in hopes that he will mercifully cease his relentless tickling. Thankfully, he does seem to be feeling benevolent this evening and climbs off, allowing you to sit up as he takes his place next to you. After ripping a can from its plastic rings, you pop open the tab and take a sip while Eddie grabs fistfulls of popcorn and shoves them into his mouth with a total lack of manners. You conclude that something is definitely wrong with you for finding this somehow endearing, and you gaze at him longingly until he turns to you with a mock-disgruntled eye roll.

“John Hughes?”, he complains, mouth still half full, “Can’t we watch something else?”

You smirk at his predictability. “I knew we wouldn’t make it past the opening scene,” you respond while tsk-ing at him and shaking your head. “I rented a couple of cheesy looking b-movies just yesterday. You know, slasher flicks that for sure spent all their budget on fake blood?”

He smiles big and jumps up off of the sofa. “Aw, my favorite! You do love me!” he exclaims with sarcastic sentiment, “You remember to stash the tapes somewhere your thief roommates couldn’t find?”

“First of all, stop calling my friends thieves. That was one time,” you say while slapping lightly at his leg from your lowered position, “And second, yeah. They’re next to my bed.”

He nods and heads to your bedroom, not wasting time to ask permission seeing as after so many years you both had developed a ‘me casa es su casa’ type of unspoken agreement. After a few more sips of your beer and picking at a partially popped kernel, you notice that Eddie is taking an unusual amount of time retrieving the tapes. You were sure that you had left them on your nightstand, you even remember seeing them while in bed this morning as you were reaching over to-

Oh. Fuck.

The can drops from your hand and falls to the floor, spilling light amber liquid onto the hardwood. Rushing into your room, you see Eddie standing in front of the drawer you had forgone closing while leaving earlier, looking down into it with a clear view of your 18th birthday present to yourself. He whips around, jaw dropped in shock. There’s an unreadable look in his eyes as he stares you down, and you realize that you have no idea what he’s thinking about. Probably all the new ammunition he now has to use against you during one of your future banter sessions.

You run forward, shoving him sideways onto the bed and slamming the drawer shut. He lands with a huff- his back on the mattress- before propping himself up onto his elbows, still looking at you with that confusing expression. His silence so far is honestly more nerve wracking than him ruthlessly making fun of you would have been.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize frantically. “I completely forgot I left this open, and I didn’t know we’d be hanging out tonight, and when I sent you in here I didn’t even think about it, and I never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, and I-”

“Woah, princess,” he cuts off your rambling, using that nickname that he’s been using ever since the two of you met back in school. It usually brought a warmth to your cheeks, but given that you already felt sick to your stomach the sweet moniker was not appreciated. “It’s fine, I promise!”

“Fine?” you cry out, the sound muffled by your palms as your heated face is now buried behind your hands. You turn your body to face away from him, and he pushes back with his arms to sit up the rest of the way, then reaches forward to grip your elbow and spin you back around.

“Yeah, I swear! You didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything,” he consoles. “I was just surprised, is all. I just… wouldn’t have expected… you… to have that.” As he speaks the final word, he gestures to the freshly closed drawer containing your magic wand vibrator. The room falls quiet once more as he stares blankly at the offending table, seemingly lost in thought.

You shove his shoulder a little more harshly than you mean to, and he blinks back to consciousness and rubs where you met contact before re-meeting your eyes. “Don’t look at it like that!” you chastise, ignoring the fact that he technically wasn’t looking at ‘it’ like anything, seeing as it was now hidden out of sight. Your head falls into the cover of your hands yet again as you groan out, “Ugh! You probably think I’m some kind of slut now.”

“N-no!” he’s quick to deny, shaking his head. “Of course I don’t think that about you! I mean, come on, give me some credit. It’s the 80s,” he counters, with emphasis on the last word, “guys can be progressive now. I know girls masturbate too!”

“Please don’t say that word,” you reply, your hands still hiding your face but compromising by peeking out through your fingers.

“What?” he questions with a smirk, “Masturbate?”

“You’re completely impossible,” you state, giving in and dropping your arms to your side. You pick up the videos from your messy nightstand and turn on your heel to walk out the door, not even stopping as you shout out “Are you coming or what, Eds?”

Behind you, Eddie takes the opportunity of your back being turned to adjust himself in his pants and prays that he manages to keep it down throughout the duration of movie night.

That was almost an entire month ago. While Eddie took pity on you for the remainder of that night, the very next morning began his onslaught of mockery. Although, perhaps mockery wasn’t quite the right word, because you know all his jokes were meant to be lighthearted and fun. You know if you told him he was making you uncomfortable that he would stop in a heartbeat, so the real problem you’re facing is that you don’t want him to stop. Every time he shows up unannounced and slyly asks, “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?” with that knowing gleam in his eyes, you’re not sure if you want to scold him for his teasing or jump his bones. Him speaking so candidly about something that’s always been so private should be embarrassing- and it is- but it would be dishonest to say the butterflies in your stomach are only there because of your modesty. Truth be told, he was turning you on every time he hinted at the fact that he knows all about your favorite form of self care.

Not only were the teasing comments nonstop, there were also the questions. Eddie was relentlessly curious about the process (which confounded you considering you thought the situation was pretty straightforward) and he never seemed to run out of things he wanted to ask you.

“How long have you had it?”, “How many settings are there?”, “How often do you use it?”, “Do you need it to get off?”, “What do you think about when you use it?” (definitely couldn’t answer that one honestly), and finally, “How exactly do you use it?”

According to him, he wanted to know the ‘right way’ to use one on a girl for future reference. One day, the frustration of constantly having to dodge his incessant questions became too much, and without thinking you blurted out, “If you’re so curious about how to use it, why don’t I just teach you?” Understandably, your outburst shocked the both of you. What shocked you more was when Eddie quickly recovered and excitedly agreed.

That was how you found yourself spread out on your bed with your best friend on his knees in between your thighs. Your most private area is only covered by your hands, and your discarded panties are tucked in Eddie’s back jeans pocket.

“How am I supposed to do this if you’re hiding, princess?” he asks, observing the toy and turning it over in his hands, “Don’t be shy. It’s just me.”

That was the problem. It was him, your friend that you’ve been harboring a secret crush on for years. Now you’re in a position with him that you’ve fantasized about so many times, and you don’t know what it means for the future of your relationship. Above you, Eddie fiddles with the two buttons, figuring out the mechanics of what they do. He discovers the bottom button turns it on while the top changes the speed. There are three settings, and after cycling through them all it starts back at the beginning, only turning off by pressing the bottom button once more. When he’s done figuring out how the toy works, he powers it on to the lowest setting and looks at you expectantly, eyes flitting between your hands and face. You turn your head to the side, take one final deep breath and move your arms to your stomach, revealing yourself to him.

The air is cold on your exposed center. Other than your shaky exhaling and the humming of the vibrator, it’s quiet. You realize with embarrassment that Eddie has stopped breathing, and when you steal a glance back at him he’s staring at your bare center with an unreadable expression. You instinctively hide your face in your hands, and your thighs involuntarily twitch to close. Of course, they can’t fully shut with Eddie sitting in between them, but the movement does stir the boy from his trance. He pries your hands away from your face and you’re forced to confront his inspecting of you.

He kisses a wet peck to the tip of your nose like he’s done so many times before, and just like always your entire face scrunches up with a smile. With eyes now closed, you start to feel giddy and you can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. You half expect Eddie to start laughing with you, but no sound comes from your friend. Suddenly- and without warning- he presses the vibrator directly to your clit. Your eyes snap open, rolling back in both shock and pleasure as a humiliatingly high pitched squeal escapes out of your slack-jawed mouth.

“Such a pretty sound from such a pretty girl,” Eddie says, barely loud enough to hear considering the buzzing raised in volume due to being pushed up against something. It’s almost like he was more absentmindedly commenting to himself rather than purposefully complimenting you.

You’re only capable of responding with moans as your legs fold into your torso and your toes start to curl. It’s still set to the lowest vibration option, but your aforementioned nerves and arousal were making you much more sensitive than you would otherwise be while using the toy alone. Eddie’s empty hand moves to stroke your inner thigh, before inching toward your center slowly. He seems to be asking permission to touch you himself, and the fact that he still thinks to wait for consent while literally sitting in between your legs after taking off your underwear almost has you laughing again. Instead, you simply nod your head. Eddie’s fingers immediately spread your lips further, allowing the head of the vibrator to be able to hit your clit more directly. The buzzing becomes higher in pitch as he goes up one setting, and the sensation becomes too much to handle.

“Sorry,” he whispers when you whine and start to squirm away, “I’ll be nice.”

After positioning yourself back into place, you mumble out, “Sensitive…” as an explanation. Your voice is surprisingly weak.

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, though you doubt he actually feels regretful, “I know.”

The sound of clicking reaches your ears as Eddie toggles the toy back to the first setting. His thumb briefly brushes over your clit, causing you to shiver and gasp, and he breathes out a quiet laugh before pressing the vibrator against you once more- this time more gently. The vibrations are more bearable this way, and you feel the pleasure slowly start to rise and rise until you become a moaning puddle beneath the metalhead. Just as you’re crying out his name- a warning that you're about to cum- he pulls away, cruelly laughing at your protesting.

“Eds, what the fuck?” you shout, frustratedly. “I was so close! Why the hell would you-”

“Calm down, princess,” he interrupts. “You know I’ll get you there. I just wanna have some fun along the way.”

And you do know. You trust him more than anyone else- you’d trust him with your life- but you also know that he’s a little shit. “Please, Eds. Please just get to it,” you beg.

He stares at the head of the toy for a moment before lifting it to his face. His tongue parts his lips, swollen and pink from him biting them, and your eyes widen as he slowly licks directly where the silicone was just touching you. He moans, and his eyes roll back into his head. The sight only drives you more wild, and your hips start rocking the bed as you wait for him to continue.

He starts to bite his lips again as he watches you grind against nothing, desperately searching for friction. “Maybe I was wrong before,” he says slowly with a teasing lilt, “maybe you are a slut.” He had a look in his eyes that you had never seen before.

Your entire body raises in temperature. “Eddie…” you whine, surprised by how much his rudeness is affecting you. “Please…”

“So fucking wet, dripping all over your sheets,” he continues distractedly, paying no mind to your pleading as he caressed up and down your slit, collecting your juices. When he pulls away, you notice the lights of your bedroom reflecting off the glistening moisture on his fingers, and you resist the urge to hide again. “Such a pretty pussy. The prettiest. She’s not used to being treated so nicely, huh?”

As usual, his confidence blurs the line between incredibly sexy and incredibly annoying. His words are making your insides flutter, and probably worsening the ‘dripping all over your sheets’ problem. Still, you can’t help but feel your frustration grow. “Please, Eds, make me cum. Please make me cum,” you beg some more as you scoot down the bed. Your thighs no longer have the room to be laying on either side of him. Instead, they are now resting atop his own thighs, with your pelvises almost meeting making contact.

“So desperate for your best friend to make you cum. Are you always this wet, princess?” As he asks this, the vibrator meets your center again. He rubs it back and forth vertically in quick motions, and you groan in relief.

You answer by shaking your head no. It definitely wasn’t always like this. In fact, it was never like this. The toy slid so effortlessly between your puffy lips, massaging your sensitive nub directly and bringing tears to your eyes.

“Aw,” he cooed, “so it’s just for me?”

As embarrassed as you feel, you figure there’s no use in denying it now. “J- just for you.”

That familiar feeling of climax starts to creep up on you once more, and once more you cry out in annoyance when Eddie eases up the pressure before pulling off entirely.

“No!” you sob, “Eddie please, I need it so bad.”

“You’ll cum when I’m ready for you to cum,” he says, though the dominance in his tone is betrayed by the lust in his eyes. “I just want to play with you for a little longer. You’ll be a good girl, right?”

You suspect that he won’t start up again until you agree, so you do so without a second thought. “I’ll be your good girl,” you promise, “I’ll be good.”

He smiles wide at you before spreading your lips apart and leaning down to spit directly in between them, not that you needed the extra lubrication. Feeling his saliva make contact sent shockwaves through your body, and your back arched just in time for him to harshly press the vibrator back to your clit and start rubbing it in fast circles. This time, the orgasm doesn’t so much creep up on you as it does jump out in front of you, and you’re about to give in until you hear Eddie’s voice behind the haze.

“Hold it,” he orders. “You said you would be good, so be a good little slut and hold it.”

Your head is already thrown back, and you squeeze your eyes shut in concentration. Every fiber of your being is focused on not cumming, wanting to do as Eddie wishes so you can please him. Noticing your efforts, he lifts the toy off of your aching clit and allows you to catch your breath. With your newfound relief from the strain of resisting climax, you notice that Eddie’s free hand has left your waist, and you look down to a glorious sight.

Eddie’s palming himself through his jeans. The image burns itself into your eyelids, so not even blinking becomes an escape from what you're witnessing your best friend do to himself (not that you’re complaining). You silently observe in awe as he attempts to shove his hand down his pants, and struggles on account of them being too tight. To remedy this, he unzips his jeans and slides them down just far enough for you to catch a glimpse of his hard cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. There’s a wet patch where his head was leaking precum, and a clear imprint of his impressively girthy shaft. Once the pants are out of his way you see his hand disappear inside of his underwear as he wraps it around his member and starts jerking harshly, not fully able to stroke up and down his length given the obstructive clothing.

The pure, unadulterated lust that’s consuming you is overpowering any shyness you previously felt. “Eddie,” you say his name, but he ignores you considering you’ve been a constant stream of “Eddie, Eddie, oh Eddie,” for the past ten minutes. “Eds,” you try again, “you can take it out.”

All movement inside his boxers halts. “Huh?” he exclaims with wide eyes, “A- are you sure? This was supposed to be about you.”

“I’m sure,” you confirm. And you lift up your t-shirt to reveal the white lacy bra underneath as you elaborate, “I want you to finish on me.”

His forehead wrinkles as his eyebrows shoot up in shock. With his wide eyed staring, it almost seems like he can’t believe what you’re saying. Drool pools in his open mouth before he composes himself with a head shake. Wordlessly, he sets the still vibrating toy down on the mattress and lifts your thighs off of him, before sitting up enough to pull down the sides of his boxers. His cock springs up the second his underwear is out of the way, and -without thinking about the consequences- you spit into your palm and reach out to tentatively wrap your fingers around him.

The strangled noise that leaves his mouth is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. He instinctively bucks his hips, but freezes, waiting for you to make the call. You start stroking him hard and fast, not bothering working up to a quicker speed when you were already so desperate for release and wanted him to cum with you. Eddie can apparently relate to said desperation, and hastily picks up the toy back up. Every muscle inside of you clenched as he started rubbing the tip against your clit in small circles. You strained to prolong this moment, knowing your eventual orgasm would be much more rewarding if you could see his face as he came all over your hand and stomach.

“God, sweetheart,” he groans, “So fucking good. So much better than my hand.”

The mental image of Eddie touching himself has you cursing out loud. “Really?” you ask, the pride getting to your head, making you feel light and floaty.

“You have no idea,” he responds. “Been fucking my fist nonstop since that movie night. Couldn’t help myself. All I could think about was you getting off, moaning my name.” You wonder if he knows just how real his fantasy was.

His free hand gently caresses the lacy undergarment covering your chest, his touch so light you barely register it. The uncertainty in his actions is clear, so in lieu of giving verbal consent you simply take his hand in your own and guide it to be fully on your breast.

“Can I pull this down, princess?” he practically begs, and you answer with a nod. He immediately tugs the breast cups downward, revealing your naked chest. Your soft, unmarked flesh is framed by the bunched up fabric of your shirt that’s been gathered at your clavicle, and the lacy material of your bra being held below by Eddie’s trembling hand. His hips are now moving in time with the rhythm of your strokes, and the rocking is causing your tits to bounce in a way that has his angry red tip spilling precum all over your hand as he attempts to hold off his release. The sight has you imagining what he would taste like, with you on your knees in the back of his van, and that thought has you hurtling toward the finish line at an embarrassing speed.

“Cum for me,” he orders. The second he gives you permission, you feel the damn break. As you're busy crying out in pleasure, you faintly hear Eddie in the background. “Good girl,” he grunts, “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You cum with his name on your lips. The intensity of this orgasm is unfamiliar, and you realize with bitterness that the edging you were forced to endure was truly worth the end result. With your mind elsewhere, your stroking halts and you hear the creaking of your bed as Eddie starts to violently thrust into your fist until he meets you in orgasmic bliss. Warmth falls on your naked torso and you look down to see that he’s angled his cock to be aiming at your stomach, fulfilling your earlier wish of him finishing on you. The sight of him using your hand to milk himself dry combined with the buzzing still pressed hard against your clit has you cumming harder than you ever have before. Your hand falls from Eddie as his high comes to an end, but he does nothing to pull away the toy and offer relief to your achingly sensitive core. Any attempt to wiggle your hips free from his hold seems to go unnoticed by his strength, and you have no choice but to take the unrelenting vibrations. The overstimulation has tears falling down the side of your face as your shoulders raise from the bed, the top of your scalp pushing into the mattress as your head is thrown back. Eventually, you are able to move away, and Eddie turns off the toy and chucks it off the bed before climbing on top of you and finally kissing you on the lips.

With both of you breathing heavily into the other’s open mouth, the kiss isn’t exactly how you always imagined your first kiss with your best friend to go, but it’s perfect nonetheless. Your hands find their way into his wild hair, while his tighten their grip on your waist. His tongue in your mouth just barely has the taste of you on it from him licking your toy earlier, and as his thigh brushes your middle small aftershocks rush through your body. You stay like this for a while, lazily making out and feeling each other’s bodies, until he breaks off of your mouth to kiss down your jaw, to your neck, then back up to the side of your face.

When he reaches just under your ear, his lips part from your heated skin to whisper, “So we’re doing that again, right?”

Grabbing a tuft of his hair, you guide him back to your mouth, and with your lips moving against him you answer, “Definitely,” before deepening the kiss. You’re still unsure of what this exactly means for your friendship, but that can be talked about another time.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

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astermath · 11 months

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title taken ✧*

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: ethan makes an offhand comment about potentially “dying a virgin”. you ask him if he’d like you to help with that. and how could he possibly refuse?

word count: 3.8K

notes: first time fully writing smut on this blog! I hope I did okay lol I probs got a bit carried away,, I remember hearing his comment in the movie and being like I VOLUNTEER I CAN HELP lmao, anyways,,, comments / reblogs are highly appreciated, and requests are open! lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further ethan landry related content!

warnings: cursing, protected sex, oral (f and m receiving), ethan realizing how much he loves going down on you lol, MINORS DNI!!!! normal sized font below!

notes: guys hot take but I think ethan is a boobs guy, but what do you think? sound off in the comments ethan nation

P.S.: this is a REPOST with some slight edits, sorry for the inconvenience!!

You distinctly remember the moment when Ethan made that comment.

You were all sitting outside, discussing your theories as to who the Ghostface killer could be and who you guys should be watching out for. When Ethan realized he was part of the core friend group, and as a result, also a target, he looked panicked.

“Am I gonna die a virgin?”

It was an offhand comment that no one paid much attention to, it seemed like everyone pretty much expected that from him. But you didn’t. Sure, he was a total dork, and really bad at talking to girls, but he was a pretty boy. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered hooking up with him before, but… That comment truly solidified the thought for you.

The two of you were sat on the couch of Chad and Ethan’s shared dorm. Despite Mindy telling you she didn’t trust him and that you shouldn’t be hanging out alone with him, you did very much need his tutoring. You’d rather get killed by Ghostface than have to retake econ.

But you couldn’t focus on the material. Not when Ethan’s virgin comment was making all kinds of images appear in your mind. You weren’t even listening to what he was saying, your brain having a field day with the thought of you taking that title away from him.

“Hey, Ethan.” You finally spoke up, looking away from your notes.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, the end of his pen held to his lips. He always had a habit of biting his pen when he got distracted.

“Are you really a virgin?”

The bluntness of your out of the blue question completely took him out of it. His eyes widened and he just sort of froze up, like his brain short circuited. You could tell he started blushing, and god did it look adorable.

“U-Uhm…” He put down his pen and tried to look anywhere but where your eyes were. Frankly, he was a bit embarrassed about it. He’d never even had a girlfriend, let alone have sex before, and as much as Chad tried to get him involved with girls he always struggled with it. Not just because of how awkward he generally was.

But because he had a crush on you already.

No one knew, not even his roommate, but lately he’d been struggling with keeping it to himself, especially as the two of you had been hanging out more on your own. There were so many moments where he just wanted to be closer to you, move all these papers aside and just kiss you right then and there.

His eyes were fixated on his laptop as he swallowed hard, clearly nervous about the whole ordeal. “Uhm… Yeah. I am…” He brought up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, trying to keep his hands busy so his nerves wouldn’t show as much. “Just… Never got around to it.” He chuckled nervously.

You closed your laptop, realizing you’d made the poor boy uncomfortable with your sudden interest in his sex life. Or, well, lack there of. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s nothing to be ashamed about, there’s no, like, expiration date on when you have to fuck someone…” You tried to make him feel a bit better.

Ethan nodded awkwardly, genuinely wishing this couch would just swallow him whole so he could disappear. The girl he liked knew he was a virgin loser with no game, there was no way you were ever going to want him now.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Ethan wondering if it was too late to jump out a window and forget this ever happened. You, however, had a different turn of events in mind.

“Do you want me to help with that?”

Those words made Ethan look up from his laptop and his eyes widen. If your previous question was a pitch, this one was a home run. He wasn’t even completely sure if you actually asked that or if he imagined it, until he met your gaze. But he wanted to be sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. “W-What?”

You shuffled a little closer, legs touching his, putting a hand on his thigh and leaning in slightly. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

Ethan can feel blood rush to his cock from the question alone, his gaze darting from your lips back up to your eyes. If this was a dream, it was definitely the best one he’s had so far.

“Yes.”

Your lips meet his only a second after his reply, the book on his lap falling to the floor as you both lean in at the same time. You could tell he was nervous, but that didn’t stop him from trying. You tilted your head to the side and opened your mouth slightly to run your tongue across his bottom lip, an action that elicited a slight whimper from him.

His arms snaked around your waist and you raised yourself up onto his lap. A hand soon found its place in his curls, tugging gently to tilt his head back as your lips traveled down to his jaw, then to his neck, peppering gentle kisses and love bites on the way.

“S-Shit…” He spoke between hot breaths, one of his hands now resting on the soft flesh of your thigh, squeezing slightly whenever your teeth would bite down on his sensitive skin.

You giggle softly at how sensitive he was, lips sucking a darker mark on the spot below his ear. His hips were shifting beneath you, and even through multiple layers of clothing, you could tell he was getting harder by the second. You pulled back, hands coming up to cup his pretty face. He was already panting a bit, cheeks tinged pink from all this newfound excitement. “You look so pretty...” You press another soft kiss to his lips. “This okay?”

Ethan looks up at you with an almost desperate look in those doe eyes of his, nodding at your question. As much as you wanted to fuck him right then and there, Ethan deserved to be taken care of a little, especially since this was his first time experiencing most of this.

“Good, good...” Your thumb rubs gently across the soft skin of his cheek. “Wanna... Take this to the bedroom?”

“Please.” He breathes out against your lips.

The walk, or almost run to his bedroom, was a blur in your mind. You wasted no time, quickly getting inside and locking the door behind you both. Ethan was eager now that this was finally feeling real, hands swiftly finding your hips again and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

“Hmm... Someone’s excited...” You mumbled in between kisses, stumbling backwards onto the bed until your back hit the mattress. Ethan held himself above you, brown curls perfectly framing his face as he admired how beautiful you looked on his bed.

He kissed you again, tongues playing with one another as his confidence was spurred on by his pure exhilaration. “Been... Wanting to do this forever...” He spoke against your lips as your hands searched for the hem of his shirt. “With you...” He pulled his shirt off in a hurry, diving back to meet your neck, pressing feverish kisses to your skin.

“Yeah?” You bit your lip, hand coming up to further push him into the crook where your shoulder and neck met. You let out a soft mewl when he bit down, wondering if he’d imagined this before. One of your hands moved over his chest, nails raking over the skin and undoubtedly leaving red lines in their wake. They travelled over his abs, down to his crotch, palming slightly, which earned a delicious groan from him.

You tilt your head to kiss the side of his head and get his attention to meet your gaze. His eyes find yours, half lidded, pupils blown out like he was high off the moment. “Me too.” You say, and you could swear it activated something in him when you did.

His hands start roaming under your shirt, and you take that as your cue to take yours off too. He stops for a moment, purely to admire the newly exposed parts of your body. Sure, he’d snuck glances at your chest when you wore tighter shirts, or when the collar would dip down just enough to give him a peek. But he only imagined touching your tits, how soft they were, how well you’d react to his hands.

His hand reached out and he gently cupped your breast, still a little careful. “So soft...” He mumbled to himself, his thumb slowly rolling over your nipple, almost teasingly so. You whined softly, arching your back a little into his touch. His other hand joined in and he squeezed them a bit, seemingly entranced by just how soft and pleasant they felt. Like they were made to be held by him.

He leaned down to your chest and looked up at you with puppy eyes. He could ask you to rob a bank with those eyes, and you’d do it. You just hoped he didn’t realize how you weak you were to that look.

“Can I?” He licked his lips.

“Y-Yeah, Ethan, anything...” You rubbed your thighs together. You knew he was just taking things slow, for both of your sakes, but god it felt like he was teasing you so badly.

He licked your nipple, a little hesitant, but he took the hand in his hair as a sign that he could continue. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud and suckled softly, closing his eyes as his fingers played around with your other nipple. You swore he was getting off on just sucking and touching your tits, noticing slight movements of his hips grinding into the bed.

He let go with an audible ‘pop’, earning a delicious whimper from you.

“E-Ethan...” You whined, catching your bottom lip under your teeth.

“Yeah...?” He hoped he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“Touch me...” You spread your thighs a little more. “Please?”

“O-Oh, right... Sorry, I just... Got a little caught up in the moment.” He chuckled nervously and you did the same. You were glad there was still an air of lightness surrounding the whole ordeal. The last thing you’d want was for him to feel judged or uncomfortable.

He moved back a little between your thighs, hands exploring the soft skin of your legs with a pleased hum. He’d dreamt about moments like these so many times, ever since you became part of the friend group, he just couldn’t stop imagining what it was like. What you’d feel like, what you’d sound like... He was still processing a little that it was all actually happening.

His hand hesitatingly moved over your inner thigh, bringing a finger to gently trace over the fabric of your panties. His eyes widened a little at what he felt; you were soaked. He felt a little more confident in knowing he did that to you, but also a little shocked. “You’re... So wet...”

You brought up your hands to cover your face. You were, yes, but the way he was saying it made you all the more conscious about the effects he was having on your body. “Ethan... That’s-- You can’t...”

He grinned slightly at your reaction. He never knew you could get shy like this, you were usually such an open person. “Alright, let me just...” His fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties. He bit his lip when he discovered the hot wetness there, gently running over your slicked folds. “Is this okay?” he looked up at you.

“Mhm...” You nodded, your thighs twitching slightly when his finger grazed over your clit. “F-Fuck, yes... There, keep... Keep doing that.” You felt a little guilty for a second, remembering this was supposed to be about him. But you were doing him a favor, really, he was bound to have to find out how to touch a girl sooner or later.

His middle finger ran gentle and slow circles over your clit as his other hand kept busy running up and down your thigh. He stopped for a moment, hooking his finger around the elastic of your panties, looking at you for approval to take them off. You said something along the lines of “go ahead” between your whimpers, so he gently removed them from your body.

Again, he was taken aback by how beautiful you were, pussy glistening with juices. “God...” His thumb ran over your clit and you shivered slightly, having missed his touch, even if it was just for a few moments.

An idea sprung alive in his head, something he’d thought about many times before. “Hey, uhm... Can I...” He seemed nervous about proposing it.

“Hm? What is it Ethan?” You propped yourself up slightly onto your elbows, looking at him.

“Can I go down on you?” He paused for a moment, swallowing. “I, uh... I’ve always wanted to try that.”

You smiled at his request. Usually, the first thing guys would want is for a girl to go down on them, but you supposed Ethan wanted to explore all the options a little first. And maybe he wanted this to last longer than he would with your mouth on him. “Y-Yeah, sure...”

He smiled back, arms now on both sides of your thighs as he leaned his head down closer to your aching core. His hot breath hit your pussy, and you resisted the urge to just pull him closer. Instead, you ran your fingers over his scalp with an encouraging nudge. He stuck out his tongue, running it flat over the entirety of your wetness, humming at the taste.

You squirmed when he reached your clit, and his hands came up to settle on your thighs. He flicked his tongue and you moaned, almost obscenely, at the action. “F-Fuck!” He did it again, and your thighs started clamping down on him. “Jesus, Ethan...” He brought his lips down onto the needy bundle of nerves and suckled gently. Your head threw back as his tongue sent waves of warm tingles through your entire body.

“A-Are you sure this is your first time?” You spoke breathily through your moans and it only spurred him on further. He looked up at you with those all too familiar puppy eyes, tongue eagerly lapping at your juices. He moaned into your cunt, rutting into the bed slightly, fuck it felt good to please you.

You felt a familiar knot start to form in your stomach, hips moving against Ethan’s face as you mumbled his name over your whimpers. He sucked down on your clit again and that sent you over the edge, hand gripping his curls as you became undone beneath him. You rode it out on his face a bit before you relaxed back onto the mattress, thighs trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. “Holy shit... Ethan...”

He slowly got up, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth clean. “I hope I did alright.” He smiled, gently stroking your leg.

“Are you kidding me?” you spoke up after finally catching your breath. “You did so well baby.” You propped yourself up and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your own juices on his tongue. Your hands went to his pants in the meantime, working on undoing his belt. “If you’d just… Help me out with those…” You smiled against his lips. “I could return the favor.”

He wasted no time in taking off his pants, kicking them off the bed until he was left in just his boxers. He kneeled on the mattress, his hard-on straining against the fabric of his underwear. You leaned forward onto your elbows, and he swore just the sight of you like that would have finished him off.

You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his bulge through the fabric, and you noticed a twitch from his cock in return. “Been wanting to know what you taste like for months…” You mumbled, hooking your fingers over the waistband of his underwear to free his throbbing cock. The tip was already dripping with pre-cum, proof of just how worked up he got from eating you out earlier.

“Just relax, ‘kay?” You looked up at him and offered a sultry smile, to which he nodded. You reached out and with a gentle grip, pumped his length a few times. He bit his lip, suppressing a groan. God your hand felt so much better than his…

You leaned in and licked across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum on your tongue and savoring it. “Such a pretty cock too…” You licked up the length of him and he hissed through his teeth, hand landing gently on the back of your head. Not pushing, not pulling, just wanting to touch you.

He whined out your name when you suckled on the tip, looking down at you with desperate and needy eyes. “Fuck… T-That feels… So fucking good oh my god…” His hand moves over to your jaw, so you’re looking up at him now, and the eye contact doesn’t break, not even once.

His breathing picks up when you start to bob your head, but he stops you before you go deeper, pulling out of your mouth. “Shit, sorry, was that too far?” You look at him with a worried expression.

“No, no, not at all, it’s just… I wanna last longer.” He looked a bit embarrassed, and you felt a sense of pride of almost making him cum just from giving him head for a bit.

“That’s okay,” You got up to your knees and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m starting to get impatient anyways,” His breath hitched when you traced your fingers over his length again. “Need you inside me…”

You gave him a slight push so he sat down on the bed as you leaned over to grab a condom from the pocket of your discarded shorts. You rolled it over his cock, a snug fit, as expected, and your eyes went back to his face. He watched your pussy hover over his length, mentally preparing himself. If you going down on him felt that incredible, then this was about to be an out of body experience.

You put one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself, and reached one hand under to run his tip between your folds, lubing him up with your juices. “You ready?”

He nodded, hands coming up to gently rest on your hips. With that, you sank down onto his cock, slowly but steadily taking him inch by inch. Both of you moaned in unison at the joining of your bodies, neither of you imagining it would feel quite like this. You, surprised by the stretch he gave your cunt, him, surprised by your warmth and tightness.

“Fuck…” You sighed out, before you fully took his length, skin meeting skin with an audible clap. “So... Deep...” You put both of your hands on his chest, leaning forward a little. “Feels good, huh? You fit inside me so perfectly...”

“Shit...” He squeezes your hips harder, not enough to bruise, at least not yet. “So tight...” Ethan moves his hips up a little and you moan at the movement, the head of his cock grazing a very special spot inside you.

“F-Fuck, Ethan, hold on... J-Just...” You raised your hips, almost pulling him out completely.

“Let me...” You lowered again, ass meeting his hips. “Take care of you...” You started to establish a steady rhythm, Ethan watching your body move in complete fascination. You were gorgeous, tits bouncing, making the prettiest noises. Any guy would kill to have you on him like that, and he was no exception.

Your thighs started burning a little after a while, and he could tell as your movements got less intense. But you felt so good, every single change in motion sent jolts of pleasure through his body, his cock twitching whenever you would moan out his name.

He decided to keep chasing this high and take the reigns, putting a hand on your lower back and getting up, laying you down on the mattress as he pulled out.

“E-Ethan! What are you-- o-oh my god--” Your sentence got cut off by him sliding back inside you, his arms resting besides your body. You didn’t expect this more... Initiative-taking side of him, but it was welcome either way. You hooked your legs around his hips to pull him in closer, arms resting over his shoulders.

He quickly began thrusting, hips snapping forward, the room filled with the almost pornographic sounds coming from the two of you. He looked at you, curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, mouth slightly agape. You pulled him in by his shoulders to capture his lips, moaning into his mouth as he picked up the pace.

“Fuck... ‘M close... So close...” He spoke through heavy pants, head now buried into your neck.

“Me too baby, me too, holy shit don’t stop... D-Don’t stop!” You felt the hot coil in your stomach get to a breaking point, the bed rocking slightly with Ethan’s movements as you started repeating his name between your moans.

Ethan’s hips pushed into you one last time, cock twitching as he came, filling the condom nearly to its brim. He groaned your name into your neck, breath hot against your love bite covered skin.

You followed right after, legs clamping down on him, your pussy clenching onto his cock and milking every last drop out of him. Your thighs trembled as you panted, holding him close as he rode out his orgasm with a few last sloppy thrusts.

His body collapsed on top of you, the weight almost comforting, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his head. He moved his head to kiss you lazily, and you chuckled at how adorable he was being. He pressed a few kisses to your lips, eyes fluttering open soon after.

“Thank you...” He smiled sleepily, still coming down from the amazing high he’d experienced just then. “That was... Amazing...”

“Could say the same to you...” You smiled back, basking in the sweet after sex euphoria while you could. You whined slightly when he finally pulled out, suddenly feeling a bit empty.

Ethan disposed of the condom while you went to his bathroom to pee really quick. He sat back down on the bed and looked at his phone, seeing multiple messages from his roommate.

[chadmeister]: jesus christ

[chadmeister]: are u guys almost done

[chadmeister]: i’ve been here for like 20 minutes now you know

[chadmeister]: pretty sure the entire floor heard u two

[chadmeister]: at least u def won’t die a virgin now MY MANNN

tag list <3

@kometqh

#aster writes scream #ethanmath #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry writing #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry fic #ethan landry fan fic #scream 2023 #scream VI #scream 6 #scream 6 fic #ethan landry scream 6 #ethan landry scream #ethan kirsch

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ellemj · 5 months

Text

Time & Temptation - Roommates w/ Benefits Pt. 1

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary: While the compound is undergoing a security system update, the team is moved into an apartment complex. You were initially set to room with Wanda, but Bucky makes you an offer that you don't even consider refusing.

Warnings: profanity, wet dream with unprotected sex and teasing, alcohol consumption, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Okay, I'm super nervous about throwing something out here after Needs & Wants BUT we're doing this. It was now or never lmao. Don't forget, if you want to be notified when new parts are posted, you can add yourself to the tag list using this Google doc. It's a bit easier to add yourself vs. commenting to be tagged, because I don't always see comments before posting other parts. As usual, I have to give extra thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for being such an encouraging friend and for continually saving my ass by telling me what warnings my fics need.

You had been drinking. That’s the excuse you’re going with. You’d both been drinking. But is that really a valid excuse when one of you is a super soldier who’s completely unaffected by alcohol? You decide to blame Bucky Barnes. He should’ve been thinking straight. If he had been, you wouldn’t have ended up as roommates.

As you rub the sleep from your eyes, you fight to quiet the thoughts rushing through your mind at warp-speed. You didn’t drink enough to be hungover but you’re definitely feeling the effects from the number of beers you had just a few hours ago. Your overthinking only intensifies the headache that’s currently pounding behind your eyes. Ibuprofen. You need ibuprofen. You can see that the sun hasn't come up yet, which means it’s still either very late or very early in the morning, so you try to be as quiet as possible. You don’t want to wake your new roommate. Of course, you wouldn’t have known since you've barely ever interacted with the man, but he doesn’t sleep much. When you stumble out into the hall, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of black panties, you fail to notice the way Bucky’s door hangs ajar, signifying he's not in bed. You run your hand along the wall of the hallway, feeling your way to the kitchen so you won’t have to make your headache any worse by turning on a light.

“Jesus, Bucky. What are you doing up?” You ask in a whisper, after being startled by the figure of the six-foot super soldier lurking in the kitchen. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of gray sweats and his dog tags, as he leans back against the edge of the countertop in near-darkness. As your eyes adjust, you let them linger over his defined chest and abs a little longer than you should have, and he notices your momentary ogling.

“Why are you whispering?” He questions, stealing a look of his own. And why the fuck are you walking around without any pants on? His eyes trail down your body, taking in the vintage t-shirt that barely skims the tops of your thighs and your toned legs that are on full display. You’re rubbing your temples with the pads of the middle finger and thumb of your right hand, so you don’t notice his gaze. Fuck. If you’re going to share an apartment, he may have to set a ground rule about pants. Though, he didn’t initially take you for the type to prance around half-dressed, otherwise he might’ve proposed the rule before you ever went to bed.

“What kind of beer did you give me last night?” The question rolls off of your tongue a little more accusatory than you intended as you take a few steps further into the kitchen and wave Bucky away from his place in front of the sink. He moves around the island and takes a seat on one of the barstools there, watching as you rise up on your tippy toes to pull open the medicine cabinet that sits high over the sink. Your t-shirt pulls up with the movement of your outstretched arm, dangerously close to revealing your ass to him. He clenches his jaw and looks down at the mug that’s gripped tightly between his two hands. He's dangerously close to breaking it into a hundred tiny pieces. Jesus. He’s definitely going to make wearing pants a ground rule, but he’ll wait until you’ve fully awoken to bring that up.

“It was just beer.” He mutters, taking a sip of his hot tea. He’s not usually one to drink tea, but he’s had a particularly sleepless night and sometimes it helps. It might’ve helped, if you hadn’t waltzed in here half-dressed and woken up his entire lower half.

“Beer from hell.” You grumble, retrieving the bottle of ibuprofen from the cabinet and shaking two of the little pills out into the palm of your hand. You put the bottle back in its place before fixing yourself a glass of water and downing the medicine. Bucky’s eyes follow your every move, but you aren't paying attention to him. “Did I really move in here?” You have to ask. You know it’s true, you know that you and Vision switched rooms last night. But still, you need to hear it from someone else.

“Yeah.” Bucky answers dryly. You don’t remember him being so short with you when he proposed the idea a few hours ago. You let out a deep sigh before taking another sip of water.

“There’s probably no chance Vision will switch back with me, is there?” You also know the answer to that one, but still, you ask.

“Throwing in the towel already?” Bucky taunts, raising an eyebrow at you. Is he really challenging you over this? He was the one that suggested you and Vision switch rooms, you merely agreed to it because there was no way you could survive practically being a part of a throuple in yours and Wanda’s apartment for the next three months.

“No, I’m just wondering if this was a good idea.” You retort, narrowing your eyes at him. Why the fuck isn’t he wearing a shirt? If you had known that he walks around like that, you definitely wouldn’t have moved in. He’s always been frustratingly attractive, even with his signature frown and reclusive nature. You really weren’t thinking straight when you rolled your suitcase in here, set your duffel bag and moving boxes down in the second bedroom, and decided to call this your new home.

“It was either this or you were going to have to knock on your door and ask Wanda and Vision to wrap it up so you could get some sleep. The choice was yours.”

“I was…influenced.” You claim, setting your glass on the countertop and crossing your arms over your chest. Your t-shirt once again rides up a bit and this time you catch Bucky’s eyes flitting down to your thighs. It’s fleeting, but you notice it. You know you weren’t really influenced. Bucky’s right. He simply offered a solution to your problem, and you took him up on it.

------------------ 7 Hours Earlier -------------------

It took Bucky less than ten minutes to unpack. He really only needs his clothes, a few weapons, and a decent book when he moves from one place to another. Vision, however, didn’t unpack a single thing. He quickly settled his suitcase and boxes into his bedroom before hurrying back out to the parking garage to help Wanda with her things. Bucky imagines he probably would’ve fared well with the ladies in the 40s, though the synthetic body and infinity stone might’ve scared a few off.

Once Bucky’s alone in the new apartment, he takes his time walking around and checking it out. It’s more spacious than he expected. When Tony said he was moving everyone into an apartment complex for at least the next three months while the tower undergoes a hefty security system update, Bucky definitely didn’t picture being moved into a luxury complex. The floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the living room offer a stunning view of the city a couple of miles to the south, and the open floorplan makes the space seem that much bigger. Though, the kitchen being so open to the living room makes it so that the only privacy Bucky will ever have here will be behind his bedroom door. Not that he plans to hang out outside of his room very much. He didn’t do that very often back in the compound either.

Bucky’s gaze is broken away from the view when he hears the elevator ding in the hallway, followed by Wanda and Vision whispering back and forth.

“She’ll probably be out for at least an hour since she’s meeting Fury, but we might have even longer than that.” Wanda’s hushed tone is one that Bucky has heard plenty of times before. He’s heard it most often when it's late at night, and she and Vision are sneaking around together. They always think they’re being so stealthy, but honestly, the rest of the team has heard them getting it on on more than a handful of occasions. Tony should have just let them share a place, but Bucky understands why he didn’t. You would’ve been stuck with one of the guys. Tony thought he was doing you a favor by sticking you with Wanda, especially since the two of you are such good friends, but he failed to realize just how attached Wanda and Vision are lately. Bucky feels for you in this moment, he truly does. Though he’s never really been on your end of something like this, he was in Vision’s shoes often back in his early army days. He always had a pretty girl on his arm and he knows he made his fair share of people uncomfortable with his public displays of affection. He can’t imagine how much a roommate would’ve hated him if he’d had one back then.

He listens as Wanda and Vision pass by his apartment and continue on down the hall. The apartment immediately next to his is going to be empty for at least a few days, since it belongs to Clint and Sam, and neither of them were in town today to be able to move in. Yours and Wanda’s apartment is the next one over. However, even all of that space between your apartment and his is no match for Bucky’s heightened sense of hearing. It’s always been more of a curse than a blessing to him, and that proves true again now, as his ears are assaulted by the sound of Vision and Wanda tearing each other’s clothes off.

---

Your meeting with Fury was a lot shorter than usual, but he did send you back to your new apartment with an abundance of Chinese food from the hole-in-the-wall place that he chose to meet at. As you make the trek from the parking garage to the building, carrying an over-filled plastic baggy of food, you wonder if Wanda’s already started unpacking her things. Maybe she’s been working on setting up the apartment since you left and she’ll be ready for a food break. You glance down at your phone and see that it’s nearing 8 pm. You’re envisioning an evening of good food and friendly company in your new apartment, but of course, that’s not what you’ll find once you make your way upstairs.

As soon as the elevator lets you out onto your floor, you feel like you’re in college again, making your way down the hall of a dorm building. You probably shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up about the nice little roommate dinner. You’re not even three feet away from the door when you hear the distinctive sound of a headboard slapping against the wall and it freezes you in your tracks. Shit, you can’t even go into your own apartment. You stand there like a deer in headlights for about five seconds, horrified by what you’re listening in on, before you start backtracking to the elevator. You can enjoy the food from the comfort of your own car, even if it’s fucking freezing outside. As you start walking back down the hall, you catch yourself stopping outside of Bucky’s door. Surely, he’s home. You don’t know him as well as you know the rest of the team, but you do know that he spent a lot of time in his suite back in the compound. It’s unlikely that he’s out tonight. For a brief moment, you imagine yourself knocking on his door while he sits inside and completely ignores you. Is he the type to do that? To pretend he isn’t home? Hell, forget it. You’ll just go with your original plan of eating in the car.

Bucky heard the elevator ding when you arrived a couple of minutes ago. He probably should’ve stuck his head out into the hall and warned you, or even reached out to Sam and asked for your number so he could’ve texted you some kind of warning. He had every opportunity to spare you, but instead he sat in his apartment with some random documentary playing on the TV and a cold beer in his hand. He expected you to leave as quickly as you’d arrived, so he was surprised when he heard your footsteps stop short outside his door. If you’d had a sense of hearing anything like his, you would’ve heard him rise from the couch and make his way over to look at you through the peephole in the door. He stares at you now, seeing your nose and cheeks flushed pink from the cold weather, a bag of what looks to be takeout clutched in your left hand while your phone and keys are in your right, and an imperceptible expression written across your features. Why does he feel the sudden urge to invite you in?

Bucky doesn’t give the situation a second thought. His hand is tugging the door open before he even realizes what he’s doing.

“I…” You’re about to explain what you’re doing standing outside of Bucky’s door, but you don’t really feel like saying your roommate is fucking my roommate and I have nowhere else to go, so you simply hold the bag of takeout up and offer him a weak smile. “I’ll share.” You feel exposed as his eyes narrow and travel down your frame. He’s analyzing you, or maybe he’s judging you, you really can’t tell. Normally you’re someone who stands tall and holds their own, but in front of this man, you always seem to feel small. You’re about to cut your losses and ditch when Bucky pulls the door open a little more and tilts his head, inviting you in. No fucking way.

That’s how you ended up a few beers deep on his couch, feeling more comfortable around him than you’ve ever felt in your 6 months of living across the hall from each other. In fact, you felt so comfortable, that you were actively giving him shit about not finding a way to warn you about what you nearly walked in on in your apartment earlier.

“You knew they were going at it and you were just going to let me walk in there.” You accuse him, clutching your third beer bottle to your chest as you feign a look of offense. Bucky sits on the opposite end of the couch, his gaze feeling heavy on your face. He has this way of looking at people like he can see straight through them, and if you were a little less buzzed, you’d probably feel naked under his stare.

“How was I supposed to warn you? Leave a sign out in the hall?” He asks, taking a long sip of his sixth beer of the night. He’s far ahead of you, yet still, you’re the only one that’s feeling any effects from the alcohol. You wonder why he even drinks if it has no effect on him. Maybe he just likes the taste.

“You could’ve texted me, called me, sent a damn carrier pigeon, I don’t know.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you realize that he most likely doesn’t even have your number. Not once has he ever had a reason to call or text you before, so why would he have your contact? “Give me your phone.” You say suddenly, sitting up straighter and setting your near-empty bottle on the coffee table. You hold out your hand and wait patiently as he eyes you closely. He contemplates brushing you off, but he’s finding this new side of you surprisingly amusing, so he decides to let the moment continue. He grabs his phone off of the arm of the couch and unlocks it before placing it in your open palm. You quickly create a contact for yourself, putting in only your first name and phone number. “Text me next time and tell me to stay out longer.”

“They were going at it for nearly three hours, where would you have hid out?” Bucky wants to know. With the compound off limits, he can’t imagine anywhere else you’d go to waste that much time. Though, he doesn’t know you very well. Maybe you have friends in the city, or hell, even a boyfriend you could crash with.

“The parking garage, Sam’s house, anywhere but here.” It seems like it’s safe to assume there’s no boyfriend if one of your first choices was Sam’s house, which is forty-five minutes away. Not that he cares. “I guess I should work on finding a good hideout for next time.” You click Bucky’s phone off and lean over the center cushion of the couch, gently setting it on his leg. Once you lean back to your side of the couch, tucking your legs in beside you and grasping your beer in your hand again, you notice Bucky staring. The look on his face is indecipherable, but you can tell that he’s deep in thought. You stare right back at him, tracing the rim of your bottle with your fingertip as you wait for him to say something. What he decides to say though, catches you completely off guard.

“Maybe you and Vision should switch rooms.”

-------------------Present------------------------

That’s how you ended up here. Standing in your now shared kitchen while a very shirtless Bucky Barnes continues to wonder why the hell you’re not wearing any pants. You watch him carefully as his sips something from a white mug. It looks so tiny in his hands, so fragile. You’re amazed that he can handle such a delicate item without shattering it. Your eyes begin tracing the veins that decorate the back of his flesh hand, traveling up his forearm until you reach his bicep. God, he really never misses a workout, does he? Wait, why the hell are you looking? You shake your head to clear your mind of whatever thoughts were about to enter and then grab your glass of water from the counter again.

“Goodnight, roommate.” You say somewhat sarcastically, passing behind Bucky on your way back to your room. He catches a whiff of your scent as you pass him. It’s something sweet, maybe vanilla? Whatever it is, he likes it. He rarely ever stood close enough to you before to find out that you smell so damn good. Where is his mind tonight? He’s starting to wonder if something really was off with those beers that you both had earlier.

---

“Bucky…” His name leaves your lips as a needy moan while you arch your back and focus on his touch. His hands are alternately cold and hot, each sliding up along the outer sides of your thighs at a tantalizingly slow pace. You want to lean back against him, you want to reach between the two of you and line his cock up with your entrance yourself, you want to beg him to fuck you already. “Please.”

“Shh, be patient, Y/n.” He coos, pressing his lips to your left shoulder. You feel his hard length slip between your legs and brush against your wet folds, teasing you relentlessly. You can’t help the way your hips grind into him, your cunt searching for friction wherever you can find it. He’s quick to grip your waist and still you, ghosting his lips up the side of your neck before they graze over the shell of your ear. “Try that again and you get nothing.” He warns. You’re trembling and he’s barely even done anything to you yet, while you stand right there on display for him, nearly bent over the kitchen sink. You let out a shaky exhale as his right hand leaves your waist. He wraps that hand around his cock and guides the head to glide back and forth along your pussy.

“Oh, god, please, Bucky.” You’ve been reduced to a quivering, begging mess before him.

“Tell me what you need.” He demands, continuing his teasing actions between your legs. You let out a whimper as you grip the edge of the kitchen counter.

“You, I need you.” You say breathlessly, hoping it’s what he wants to hear.

“You can be more specific than that, Y/n.”

“I need you to fuck me.” That’s what he needed to hear. He begins slotting his dick into your entrance. You feel the tip just barely stretching—

You wake up suddenly in a cold sweat, your t-shirt sticking to your heaving chest and your thighs clenched tightly together under the covers. Holy fuck. That’s new. It takes you about a minute to recover and calm your mind enough to fully realize what you just dreamt about…having sex with Bucky Barnes. The man you barely know, who you now share an apartment with. The man who is currently right across the hall from you, probably still shirtless, and in his own bed, and fuck.

While you were working on coming down from your wet dream, Bucky was lying wide awake in his bed. It was only an hour and a half ago that the two of you exchanged a few words in the kitchen. You scurried off to your room and fell asleep pretty quickly after taking your ibuprofen, but Bucky laid awake, as he usually does. He was actually just starting to drift off to sleep when he heard something coming from behind your door. Great, you talk in your sleep. Or at least that’s what he was assuming, until he strained his ears a little harder and realized he couldn’t make out any fully formed words, only sounds. And the sounds you were making…fuck. They sent all of the blood in his body rushing straight to his dick. You were moaning. You were fucking whimpering. He wanted to write it off as nothing. Hell, maybe you were having a nightmare and those are the sounds you make when you’re scared. But who was he kidding? You were obviously having a sex dream, and his fucking insomnia was keeping him awake to hear it all. Every filthy sound that slipped past your lips was like torture. Bucky found himself squeezing his eyes shut and gripping his quilt in both hands, trying to use all of his willpower to redirect bloodflow away from his lower half. It was wrong to be so turned on by this, by his roommate being unconsciously aroused. When you suddenly went silent, he knew you’d woken up. He thanked every entity he could think of for that.

He seriously fucked up when he invited you to move in. Little does he know, he will soon be paying for his lapse in judgement, even more than he is right now.

Next Part

TAG LIST (if there is a line through your user, Tumblr would not let me tag you):

@gyokujyn @noonespecial90 @spngingerbread21 @sadeyes61 @edelweissbarnes @mayamacall @pigeonmama @imemeriebarnes @ladyvenera @buckbuckybuckaroo @torntaltos @urlocalpillowprincess @sagebarness @mrbobinskyfromcoraline @mrs-marc-spector @srlover40 @valhalla-kristin @lightsonnoonehome @sgtjamesbsdoll @charlottestarkey @phoenixstark1708 @samfreakingwinchester @claireelizabeth85 @mcumaniac @ordelixx @hellfirebabe @toasted-bones @dashis-post @literaryavenger @ahlookatallthelonelypeople @fandomsfeminismandme @buckysbaby-doll

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #bucky barnes x you #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes smut

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noowayybroo · 5 months

Text

Give the dog a bone (Part 2) (NSFW)

Characters: Dogman!Leon Kennedy, F!Reader (Part 1 is SFW GN! Reader)

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS: Smut and NSFW, Young people DNI. Dogman Leon. Dead dove IG?? p in v. Porn with some plot. Reader is female (sorry) breeding, pregnancy mention, (these tags might be all wrong I havent started writing yet) Leon and reader are initially friends / colleagues. Set after RE4. Lazy writing because I'm too busy and hate writing no cap. dogman anatomy. Hunnigan exists but is irrelevant. Nipple/ breast play / suckling. F Receiving oral. this fic is really slow and boring, shower, Leon washes, you, then you guys fuck. It's like slowburn but like it's not a burn just a bemusing fizzle. ..... knotting. LEON GETS A BIT MEAN AT THE END BUT HES STILL KINDA GENTLE AND ITS NOT EXACTLY CONSENT BUT I THINK IF READER SAID NO HE WOULD STOP LMAO YOU FEEL??? some name calling like "slut" toward the end, mention of puppies and brain numbing and stuff.

SORRY GUYS ITS A LONG ONE I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO WRITE SO IT JUST GOT LIKE LONGER N LONGER AS I PANICKED.

I feel so gross for writing this. I'm so happy you don't know who I am.

Rushing under the shelter of your roof, you fumble with your keys in the lock so you can move to make room for Leon on the doorstep. Leon hadn't had an umbrella this time, and the both of you were sopping wet, not able to run home fast enough.

Panting, you finally stumble through your own front-door, Leon crowding onto the doorstep behind you to cower from the rain. You turn back to face him, and your eyes are snagged by his own piercing ones as they gaze attentively at you. Cold rain soaks and matts the short fur on his ears, and drips down his dark fringe onto his face as his wide eyes only leave you to search your hallway.

Recently, Leon had taken to breathing heavily through his mouth when physically exerted. His jaw lazily hung open, revealing unusually sharp teeth and what seemed to be a much longer tongue as he panted. Occasionally, it would flick up to lick at his lips or fangs, but he was bashful about the matter. Catching your gaze, he slams his mouth shut and seems to bully himself into breathing through his nose.

He looks away, too, glancing past you into your home, desperately avoiding contact with your possibly judging eyes. His lids hang low as he adjusts to the bright light you flick on and his ears sit low to his head. Now you're aware of his tail, you can see it straight though his sweat-pants, though he may try hide it. The thick, bushy, and perhaps a little damp appendage clings to his leg in silent apology as he awkwardly glances between you and the interior of your home.

He eyes the space in which your hallway becomes a room; a place he'd never before set foot. There's a subtle hint in his eyes. They're almost pleading, puppy dog eyes as he gazes at this uncharted territory, but he refuses to look you in the eyes, as if he wouldn't dare ask you to allow him into your space. Rain hammering just centimetres behind him, still splashing at his back, you decide it'd be rude to just send him on his way now. Besides, you could do with some company. He wasn't just man's best friend now, he was yours.

laugh rn

"Leon, I don't want you getting sick." His ears perk up, head tilting to the side again and mouth slightly ajar. With the warm light from your home flooding past you, you probably did appear slightly angelic to him in this moment. His mouth opens, just as he's about to protest to save face, but you cut him off. "You don't have an umbrella, and we don't have work tomorrow. Why don't you come in and dry off?" His alert expression eases a little and he gives you a sheepish smile, bowing his head a little.

"You sure? It's fine, I really can just go-"

"Leon, come here." you giggle, stepping further into your home after you've kicked off your shoes and hung up your coat. Your words his command, Leon eagerly follows you, but makes sure not to move far from the door until he's removed his shoes and hoodie, placing them respectfully. Shy and gentle in his actions, his posture is bowed again, watching you nervously for any signs of discomfort. He was aware of the position he was putting you in. He knew he could scare, or even worse, hurt you, and he was very careful to prevent it.

You'd seen, over the last few weeks, Leon's tail slowly become more long and bushy. You'd watched the ears on his head darken a little in colour, and you'd noticed his nails and hands appearing a little larger and stronger over time. Whilst there were some changes in mannerisms and his personality you could pick on, there were things you simply did not know:

As he sat with you, Leon could smell you. He could identify your emotions and even that you were about to get ill before it hit you. He could hear your heart quicken and slow in different situations. He felt so connected to you now, he felt so nosey, because he could sense things he wasn't meant to be able to pick up on. He knew things he wouldn't dream of asking you. Leon swallows thickly as he watches you. His newfound primal senses kept him on his toes. He began to see you more of a partner, though he tried to fight it. Whilst his change kept him fearing virginity, a gnawing part of him identified you as the one for him.

You were the one he wanted. He wanted to test his new senses on you. He wanted to display his newfound strength to you, to impress and protect you. He wanted to be close to you. He wanted to use his newfound lust to please you. Woah, woah stop there. He shakes his head and looks away from you, face blank. He wasn't going to just take you. Sure, he wanted you, but he was no monster. All you had to do was say no, and he'd leave, tail tucked between his legs. Just the thought had him cowering in the corner.

Lost in his thoughts, in your scent, in your home, Leon realises how wrong all of this is now.. He can't have these thoughts about you, his friend. His best friend. This must be such a betrayal to you. It would terrify you, wouldn't it? You'd hate him. He should leave now and never let you find out how he feels.

Despite his hesitance and nerves, something within Leon rips his thoughts away from rationality as the scent and warmth of your home bombards him. Door now closed behind him, you surround, and he can't help but sniff the air. Addicted to the information that flowed into him. He could tell what your last few meals had been. He knew where your bedroom was, he could smell your exhaustion, and he could sense your confusion as you watched him stand, pressed against the door, turning eagerly, looking around, and consuming the smell of you. Then, his brows furrow as he notices your glare and he freezes.

Eventually, you get him to follow you into your home. You lay some warm blankets down on the couch and get things ready for a comfy night in as Leon explores your home. Before you can finish, though, you decide you have to make him more comfortable. With some encouragement, he removes his sweatpants and shirt and you replace them with the largest set of pyjamas you have. He's grateful, his fluffy tail wagging and standing to attention as you tend to him and dry it off.

Just as you're patting Leon's face dry, something comes over him, and he shakes his head hard, flinging water all over you and nearby parts of your home. He goes still, eyes wide, realising his mistake.

"Y/N, fuck, I am so sorry-" he stammers, reaching out to place his hands on your shoulders to ground one of the two of you. His hands are wet too and further soak you, and upon realising this he jumps away, tail cemented to his legs as he backs away, eventually calming down to the sound of your soft giggles and insistence that it is in fact alright.

You leave Leon on the couch with some snacks as you'd both eaten at work, and after popping to your room to freshen up and get dressed yourself, you return to him. His eyes never leave you from the second you leave your room to that when you sit next to him on the couch, just touching. His gaze was so prompt, so intense that you wondered if he'd somehow been watching you while you were in your room.

Hours pass of you watching your favourite films, as Leon had insisted he wouldn't have it another way, and the both of you have drifted significantly closer to each other over time. The sky was pitch black outside, and, whilst it had stopped raining, there was no way you'd send him home now. No, you were going to be a little selfish, you thought to yourself as Leon leaned up against you, snuggled into your side, nose buried in one of the blankets from your bed as he held it to his face.

His tail had been non-stop wagging for hours, eyes wide as he watched the screen, occasionally glancing back at you, checking up on your expression. His ears sat flat to his head, content, and he only freed his face to give a gentle yawn. You'd never been this close to Leon before, but even now, you thought something else had changed about him. Maybe it was the soft whimpers and whines he very quietly gave off or the way he juddered and shook with excitement beside you. Perhaps it was his smell... It definitely was strong, but not unpleasant.

Perhaps it was the way he lifted his head as you thought, ears perked up and turned to you, as if he could sense you thinking about him. He watches you, face only inches from yours as he sniffs the air softly. This time, he doesn't glance back at the screen, he just watched you, eyes locked onto yours until you duck away bashfully.

"S-sorry..." he mumbles, realising his mistake before leaning his head down on your shoulder like your very own pet dog might do. His face is almost touching your cheek, his breath hot on your neck as his gentle huffs turn into intrigued sniffs. He proceeds to investigate you further, squirming a little to get closer to you, one arm holding you close as he more-or-less lays on you.

You certainly notice the change, his warm front pressed up against you, pinning you down slightly. Yet, glancing down at his face makes you feel as though it's all unintentional. He seems so content and happy, in a world of his own, gazing up at you as if you'd just given him a home. "L-leon.... are you alright?" you whisper softly, watching as, again, his ears stand to attention.

"I'm... I'm uhhh..." he mumbles, lost in his thoughts, or lack thereof, as he almost purrs deep in his throat. He's half way through yet another greedy, deep breath of your scent when he realises that maybe you're not enjoying this as much as he is. His eyes shoot open and he scrambles to use his arms to relieve some of the weight on you "I-I'm sorry... Are you alright?" "I'm fine" you whisper, gently cupping his face, trying, and succeeding, to soothe him "just tell me how you feel, please?"

He pauses for a moment, eyes fluttering shut either to allow him to think, or in response to your touch. He nuzzles into your hand for a while before humming "I think I'm really hyper..."

Before now, throughout the night, you and Leon had been talking about his changes. He'd opened up to you a little about how worried he was. Before Leon went to Spain, you'd spoken to him about his issues with dating.

He told you that, to his dismay, many of the women who approached him were either spies or simply deterred by how busy and dangerous his work was. He had confided in you that now, now he was somewhat freakish, now he had the mind of a dog, and the partial anatomy of one, nobody would approach him.

You could do nothing but simply assure him that that was not the case. You told him he was wonderful, you reminded him that he was a hero, and you assured him that anybody who got to know him would swoon in an instant. And then, the conversation died there.

Until now.

There was a short silence once Leon, with your guidance, had slowly relaxed back against you. "Y/N?" He sighs softly against you.

"....Yeah?"

"W..." there's a silence again, but you know not to push him. Instead, you gently pat his shoulder, soothing him into visibly easing up. His muscles relax over you and eventually, he speaks again "Would you...?" he whimpers, burying his face in your side to hide his pretty eyes from you.

"...Would you... like me?" he whispers, hands instinctively cupping you as he wraps you into a firm hug "Would you... mind me?" Taken aback, you pause for a moment.

Was he asking if you'd date him, despite his condition, hypothetically? Sure you would, he was your best mate, and you kinda liked him. You didn't believe he had a bad bone in his body. So, you decide to be honest, thinking nothing more will come of it. You gently continue to pat his head.

"Yeah, Leon, of course, you're the best" you hum absent-mindedly. Again, it's not like you were lying, but you didn't really expect him to go for you. You just stayed honest with the hopes of making him feel a little better about himself. And... perhaps it worked, because suddenly, he shuffles further up you, tail thumping loudly against the couch as he begins to nose into your neck shyly. He nuzzles into you, sniffing softly, thrilled, tickling your neck and making you giggle.

"h-hey!" You exclaim shyly, "quit that!" you try and pat him to encourage him to leave off, but he only gets more insistent and playful.

"Y-you mean it?" he chuffs into you ""You like me?" his words are a muffled mess, disappearing into your jaw as he noses further along it. Once you give in, confirming with a gentle nod and a breathy 'yes', it's all over. He's on his knees above you, pinning you down chest-to-chest. Occasionally, his tongue darts out slightly, puppy-lapping at your skin, soon becoming a trail of hungry, loving kisses as he approaches your ear.

He moved so quickly, nipping your lobe softly, playfully before burying his head into you bashfully. He snuggled close, happy, soon becoming restless again and leaning away to gaze in awe at you. The black of his pupil devours all that innocent blue you're so used to seeing stare back at you so often, and the red flush in his cheeks is oh-so-pretty.

You feel strange. Guilty, almost. You knew something was affecting him but it's not like he was drunk or anything. This change of heart was permanent, it'd live with him forever, and so, probably, he wouldn't try and take it back in a hurry. Just to stop him doing so even if he tried, you grin mischievously "Yes, Leon. I like you." you laugh.

He dives into you, kissing your lips with soft insistence until you let him in, at which point, the taste of you drives him crazy. Greedily, he licks into your mouth, repeatedly alternating again and again between sweet kisses and hot, needy groans as he devours you. He rests his weight on his knees as he leans over you, hands caressing your sides lovingly, softly squeezing and feeling whatever he can reach, loving the sensation of you.

You thought it'd be absolutely gross to have a grown man lick you. All of your instincts, and probably all of your friends, would tell you that is NOT how you kiss, and that this man has no skill. However, this man was Leon Kennedy, and... something about it in this scenario just felt right. (He was a dogman now LMAO)

You sigh, in much more of a cuddly, wholesome mood than his energetic, frisky one. Wrapping your arms around him, you pull him close. He groans softly again as you begin to kiss him back, massaging his back and scalp with your hands and writhing your body into him.

More desperate, whining a little, he cuddles into you, gyrating hips moulding with yours in desperate search of friction. Leon moves on instinct above you, gentle but persistent as he unknowingly moves to feel as much of you as possible.

Large and strong hands roam your smaller form beneath him, one gently kneading the soft flesh of your breast through any clothing that remained, whilst the other cupped your face with intimacy. He couldn't take it anymore, being nestled in your warm neck where he couldn't see you. Sitting back on his haunches, his weight on your hips, Leon admired the sight of you below him, still unable to tear his hands from your soft breasts.

Realisation hits him eventually, and his heavy lids and blissed-out expression suddenly fade a little.

"Oh my God, Y/N" He whines, throwing his head back, sighing as he looks back down at you again. "I'm so sorry, you're just so-" Despite his words, he can't seem to break away from you, one hand still kneading at your flesh, teasing at your nipple, the location of which he's deduced from your breaths and sighs. He takes one of your hands in his and holds it close to himself, treasuring your touch. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't ask you-" he blabbers out, clearly feeling guilty.

His insistent squeezing stops for once as he waits for a reply, pleading eyes watching you with bated breath. He fell still, heavy breaths parting his lips, thick tail stilled and resting on your leg. You knew Leon would take 'no', for an answer, at least you really hoped he would, but really, you just wanted to see how far he'd go.

All it took was your soft smile and another nod, before his face lit up, eyes wide, ears perked and tail beating at your legs. He buries his face back into your neck, softly kissing and nibbling and licking at any exposed flesh. His body-weight cages you once more. Smothering warmth. An arm reaches down to position your legs, encouraging you to wrap them around him as he presses his core into yours greedily.

Throwing a blanket over the both of you to keep you warm, Leon proceeds to work his way gradually down towards your breasts, leaving goose bumps and saliva in his wake. Initially, he tries to nuzzle at your garments, absent-mindedly willing himself beneath them, but when that doesn't work, he has to tug them down, pouting and grumbling until he finally removes them in order to proceed. Despite his desperation, the movement is smooth and caring, and he further tugs the blanket over you to keep you warm.

The further Leon lowers himself across your body, the more needy and whiny he becomes, drunk on you. His face never leaves your hot skin, breath and lashes tickling you as he glances lovingly between your body and face. Once Leon reaches your breasts, deft and large hands finally reach them once more. He traces the edges of them before kneading them together, toying with them, admiring their unique shape and softness. He gropes and admires them before longing kisses become needy suckling.

He groans deep in his throat, body collapsing onto yours as his lips latch onto one nipple, tongue tracing over the sensitive bud. Eyes fluttered shut, Leon hums and whines as he kneads your flesh absent-mindedly, only responding to you. Depending on your precious sounds and expressions, he either works harder on you, slows down, or switches nipples entirely until you're sighing and writhing deliciously below him.

Leon seemed like a master to you. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and whilst slightly rough, did not hurt you at all. He was loving, and you believed just how much he wanted you with every desperate grind of his hips against you. He was perfect and sweet, even when desperately horny.

In his head, however, he was a nervous wreck. He loved this, he loved you, you enthralled you, just by laying there, and each time he glanced up at you, his body shivered with excitement. You were perfect, and whilst his usual introverted self would like to observe you from a safe distance, afraid of upsetting or hurting you, his mind had become more feral, more primal. He wanted to please you, to impress you, all because he loved you. Undeterred by his painfully hard cock, he continued to worship you, part of him afraid you'd never let him do it again.

You squirm against his hips, just getting comfortable, but it reminds Leon that much, much more interesting parts of you exist. With some soft, parting kisses to your breasts and a breathy "Fuck, you're so perfect" he moves down, gently kissing and gripping at your stomach, until he's on his knees at the far end of the couch, a little further from your spread legs. Carefully, he removes your underwear, sliding it from each leg respectfully, and after gently nudging your legs to allow him access to your core... nothing happens.

Curious, you lift the blanket a little to peak at Leon. His face is blank, jaw ajar as he stares longingly at your pussy. A long tongue hangs from his startled face as he takes deep huffs of your scent. Transfixed, he doesn't seem to have noticed you watching him, nor does he register the thick glob of drool that's made contact with your couch.

He's well aware that he never asked you for your permission. He never asked how far this could go, however, something within him drew him to you. You smelled so good, you looked so good, and, he wouldn't admit it but you were the first pussy he'd eaten (he worried you'd probably decipher this instantly through his lack of skill.) To you, though, it seemed as though Leon might not want to do this afterall. Concerned, you gently reach to pat his head, hoping to focus his gaze back on you, but instead, he takes this as confirmation.

Like a salivating dog being told 'Eat', he buries his face into your pussy, ravenous. His thick tongue licking an apprehensive stripe from top to bottom, and instantly, his eyes light up. Leon screws his eyes tight, returning to eagerly lick at you, each breath a moan as he shoves his face as far as he can into you. He doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making of himself, or about you, lost in a world of his own as he begins to devour you.

Leon snuggles close, tail thumping hard against the couch as his ears stand to attention, absorbing any sounds you make. Licking into you now, he eagerly slurps up your juices, alternating between lapping at your folds, slick with his saliva, and giving gentle kisses and nudges to your clit (which he's just remembered was a thing.)

You can't help but release breathy moans as Leon consumes you, his hands now softly grabbing and kneading at your soft thighs, sometimes pulling away to kiss and nibble at them. Your sounds and small movements, grinding shyly against his face, only egg him on, and before long, a calloused thumb finds your clit, resting there for a while before rubbing small, fast circles, sending you reeling into his touch. You can feel Leon breathe a smirk onto you as he continues to lap and suck, swiftly building a pleasurable warmth within your belly.

Peering up at you, Leon senses your release and begins to work harder, the couch beginning to sway a little as he grinds and humps down into it desperately. His groans and whines vibrate deep within you, working with each hot and heavy breath to please you.

Eventually, that tightness into your core becomes intense enough to have your back arching, and in response, Leon's hand leaves your thigh to softly caress your stomach, soothing you. Seemingly a master of multi-tasking, he continues his skilful ministrations on you until your release. A hot buzz of pleasure rushes through you, eyes screwed shut as you shake and moan beneath him. Leon, panting heavily, slows his movement, still lovingly sucking and licking at your pussy, occasionally toying with your clit, until you come down, stilling in his hold.

You feel warm and sweaty, gross. You know the couch is probably coated in slick, and if not, definitely in his saliva. Expecting Leon to desperately come up for air, or part with you, you're surprised to feel him rest his warm face on your stomach, gazing up at you lovingly as his tail brushes over your legs repeatedly. He rocks the sofa with his excited, playful shivers as you smile down at him, a little nervous.

He licks his lips, entirely black eyes staring back at you. You feel a little guilty, seeing how coated he is in you, and not even his new long tongue can seem to clean up the mess you made. Leon doesn't seem to mind.

"How do you taste so good?", he rasps, large hand lifting your blanket nonchalantly so he can get a good look at you. His question has you squirming awkwardly, trying to close your legs, but finding them innocently pinned down by his weight. Absent-mindedly, the dogman pins his head up on one arm to gaze at you lovingly, whilst, his other hand mindlessly toys with your clit once you take hold of the blanket for him.

Shocked, you let out a small squeal and tell him to leave off, which, eventually he does. Apologetic eyes turn to dumbfounded ones as you suggest maybe helping him out. He stutters a little before finally finding his words. He seems surprised you'd even mention performing any sexual act on him.

"Y-Y/N -", he breathes, shocked, "You don't have to do that... it's fine. I-"

"Leon, it's alright. You helped me so maybe I can-"

"I already came...."

"...Are you sure? I want to-"

"Twice..." he groans, letting his head fall against your belly in shame, hot breath fanning you again as he lets out a long, miserable sigh. Lost for words and surprised, all you can do is gently pat his head as he lays there, motionless, seemingly mulling things over. You feel the need to reassure him. I mean, honestly, you were more than flattered.

"Is it normally that easy for you?" You choke out. Okay, that was NOT what you were meant to ask. Leon raises his head, eyes meeting yours, defeated. "I mean- wait look, Leon, I'm flattered" you chuckle "There's nothing wrong with it... Let's chill for a bit and then we can get cleaned up..." You soothe him, gently rubbing his ears, running your free hand through his hair.

In all honesty, you were spent, more than satisfied. You wouldn't mind chilling with him for a few hours, maybe sleeping together. Leon seemed utterly defeated too, the second you started toying with him, his head fell back onto your belly, resigning there, basking in your warmth and touch. A few minutes later, he lets out a wide-mouthed puppy yawn, exposing his sharp teeth, and that devilish tongue to you once more. Maybe you should both go for a wash now, he seemed tired.

"...Could go again..." a lazy, sultry mumble makes its way to your ears.

"...again?", you cock an eyebrow down at him, somewhat impressed by his stamina. "W-wait... eat me out again?" You don't know if you're ready for that-

He looks up at you, tilting his head as if debating what to say next. His face scrunches up and he almost cringes at himself before whining, "Gotta come again..." there's a short silence "I-if that's okay with you-" And then he shuffles backward and nuzzles his face into your cunt again, surprising you.

"Woah, woah, no no it's okay!" you shuffle away, breaking free of his weak hold and lifting his head to look at you "Let me help you this time, Leon." In response to your words, his eyes drift away, avoiding contact with yours. His face becomes a little more red, and his voice a little shaky.

"I don't think it's a good idea, actually.... M-maybe we should get you washed first..." Leon was acting a little strangely now, clinging to you needily, but refusing to look at you, just like a dog who'd done something wrong. This was the first time he'd taken his eyes off of you, but he was still fidgeting. He shook slightly, as if overcome by some great surge of adrenaline. He continued to sniff the air every now and then, looking away shyly. He knew you knew he could smell you. He was ashamed to be obsessed with you.

He kneels before you, ready to get up to give you space. "I don't understand why, Leon. Why are you so nervous about it?" You ask softly and his whole posture falls. His shoulders go limp as he looks back at you, crushed. After a moment of stillness, he stands up properly, ensuring he doesn't disturb the blanket atop you, keeping you warm.

"Look... I'm not a human anymore" He warns, gruffly. His gait becomes serious as he peers down at you. "It might not be safe." Suddenly, Leon's gone from loving, pussy drunk puppy to safety obsessed, matter-of-fact guard dog. His tail is still behind him, but authoritative in its stance, and his ears are stuck up and guarding. Half way between the two, your eyes glue themselves to the mess he's made on his shirt, almost entirely soaked through with your essence. And he doesn't seem to care at all.

"We can try-" you sit up eagerly, only to be met with Leon pinching the bridge of his nose, looking away and sighing.

"You don't get it. I've changed. E-even eating you out made me feel... strange. A-and my cock, it's-" you cut off his rambling by standing before him, naked. It's clear he wants it. You can tell by the freakishly large bulge and wet patch in his pants. You can tell by the way his eyes soften and his lids droop as they settle on your form. What a pervert.

His stammering is cut short as you approach him, and, once you reach him, you tell him sternly, "I don't care what's changed about you, Leon, I love you. So now, we're going to go and have a shower. And then, we're probably gonna fuck." Mouth hanging open, Leon can only blink at you. He swallows hard once you reach him, wrapping your arms around his neck and staring up at him oh-so-enticingly. He can't help himself. Cheeks burning, he leans down and gives you a soft, hungry kiss.

Strong biceps envelop you, and without warning, he lifts you into them. Once you're secure, he peppers your neck with kisses, hands roaming you as his legs auto-pilot him towards the direction you'd glanced in before. If he was lucky, he'd find your bathroom. If he were really lucky, he'd find your bedroom. Leon groans into your neck as he carries you, wrapped up in your senses again. Something about you bossing him around really did something for him, and he jostles you a little higher in desperate hopes of you not feeling just how solid he is.

Soon, Leon's letting you down on your bathroom floor, gazing down at you as if you're the most beautiful, elegant flower he's ever-

No time for that, you tug his shirt off, muscular arms lazily lifting themselves to allow you to manhandle him. That is, until, he has to crouch down as you're too short to remove his clothes all the way. You both giggle, joy easing the nerves somewhat. Leon's body tenses as he strips his own pants off, chucking them to the floor. His face apologetic as he scans yours for your reaction to his... development.

You never thought cocks actually sprung free from clothing in real life. You'd certainly never seen it before outside of fanfiction or animated porn, and you were astounded when it did just that. Not only that, but his cock was huge. Much more red than normal, it was certainly beautiful to look at. The shape was almost perfect, with a noticeable girth the closer it got to his body. It seemed to stare back at you with just as much lust as you it as it stood to attention, dribbling precum slowly, some of which had been flung to the floor.

Eventually tearing your eyes away from your new challenger, you notice that Leon had, again, torn his from you a while ago. He stood staring at the wall just past you, shyly facing your inspection of him. So... whatever he had contracted... had done THAT to his cock? It must have been at least two or three inches larger than you'd expected and whilst yes, it was intimidating, it was a challenge you would not shy away from accepting.

The only problem now was, you think to yourself as you turn to run the shower, there was no way you'd be able to give him head and call it payback. You definitely were going to fuck. "It's amazing" you breathe, looking up at Leon and then down at his cock, twitching in response to your words. His tail starts to slowly sway back and forth.

"You're just saying that-" he flushes, cock bouncing again as he finally looks you up and down again. His ears stand alert, and as steam slowly fills the room, he begins to pant. Following you into the shower, Leon waits for you to hand him some shampoo and soaps to use before cleaning himself down as you do. To no surprise, Leon's finished long before you are.

This becomes apparent when two large hands gently nudge yours aside, massaging your shampoo into your scalp for you. A soft, commanding grip on your chin guides you to look up as he wipes any remaining suds from your forehead before getting to work. Each of his fingers draw smooth, deep circles into you. His touch is like magic and has you completely unwinding.

Just as you reach the false illusion that he can't get better, he moves to a spot of your head that neither of you had yet and you stumble back into his toned form. His hands reach out to gently grasp you, holding you securely until you find your legs, and then he continues to clean you.

As he massages your back, you feel him pressed up against you. His excitement evident in the way his cock kicks against your ass. As he tends to you, you can't help but relax and soften, feeling so warm and secure, both inside and out. He's so sweet, and kind.

Once Leon finishes, he pulls away to allow you to rinse off, and, as you turn to face him, he tenderly looks down at you. His fringe is soaked, messily clinging to his face, partly obstructing his eyes. Ears and tail a damp, matted mess, he grins nervously back at you, seeking your approval as they perk up questioningly. Despite his cute act, you can tell that he is utterly downbad for you!!

Leaning in softly and pecking the gentle giant on the lips, you butter him up before leading him by the hand from the shower. Obediently, he follows you, armed with a towel each, to your bedroom. You dry yourselves off half-heartedly as he chases you along the corridor. Reaching your room, Leon follows shyly, closing the door carefully between the two of you.

Turning to face him, you notice how it takes him a while to register your gaze, forcing him to tear his eyes from where your butt was only seconds ago. He seems transfixed, mouth slightly ajar before he wakes himself up with a violent head-shake, flinging water everywhere. He smiles goofily at you. Almost distracting enough for you to forget about his angry red cock and the way it bobs and twitches, almost begging for your touch.

You weren't really sure what to do for Leon, so, you wanted to encourage him to do as he pleased. You hang your towel over your chair, prompting Leon to copy, and by the time he's turned back to face you, you're lying back in the middle of your bed, legs spread, holding your arms out to him. From 0 to 100 in seconds, his tail begins to wag. Eyes light up as your friend's ears stand to alert, and slowly, he approaches.

Waiting with baited breath, you're startled to see the man slowly stalk towards you. He's enamoured with you, eyes trained on your body, flickering between your breasts, your thighs, your face... Heck -every part of you. Meanwhile, legs on autopilot towards you. He still wears a small smile, despite his loose jaw, and as he reaches the edge of the bed, he pauses. He seems nervous, unsure of how to proceed.

Leon bites his lip, taking a deep breath. His eyes meet yours, begging for permission before his knee sinks into the bed. The bed shifts below you as he gently crawls up you, head hung low, eyes worshipping you from below once more. He seemed to enjoy that, being below you, or perhaps it was his new way of showing care and respect.

Anticipation grows within you. Sure, he hadn't exactly given you a strip-tease earlier, but now, with how slow his movements were (and how slowly i'm writing this fic), you spent far too long wondering how things would actually feel. You didn't miss the way his nostrils flared subtly as his face brushes past your abdomen, leaving small kisses along your delicate skin. Nor did you miss the way he gently suckled on one of your nipples, peppering the area in small kisses.

He didn't want to make either of you wait any longer, and so, kept things a little shorter than he'd liked. As his lips landed on yours, he promised himself that he would eat your pussy again, one day. A strong arm props him up as one of his hands gently cups your face, mindlessly gripping your jaw as he greedily swallows down any breaths and sounds you make. Groaning into you, he pulls away. His eyes instantly find yours.

"Are you sure?" He warns, voice hoarse and husky, eyes crafted with concern. When he sees the way your eyebrow raises, his ears quickly droop as he ducks down a little. "o-okay fine, but don't say I didn't warn you, okay?" his words are soft, the end of his sentence lost in your mouth as he kisses you hard. With one last shuffle and dip of the bed, Leon's hips are pressed up against yours. His cock fits perfectly within your folds as he bucks up into you slowly. At first, he simply wants to coat himself in you. And then, it starts to feel a little too good.

He almost loses himself already, groaning loudly into your mouth as his hips rut up against you, kissing you sloppily, eyes screwed shut. Meanwhile, you're shivering. Everything about him: His sounds, his smell, his huge cock, it's all intoxicating. His cock teases at your entrance and clit at the same time, having you rocking into him. You were almost hoping it'd accidentally slide in, but part of you was more than worried about whether he'd fit.

"Okay- I'm gonna...." Leon hisses, sitting back on his haunches as he watches himself gently guide his cock towards your hole. His pupils are wide, staring on as you feel the stretch just his tip provides. About an inch or two in, Leon stops. He sees the look on your face, and promptly licks a puddle of drool into his hand before dousing it on his cock. Then, eyes back on you, he slowly slides in some more.

It doesn't hurt. His precum and drool do a good job of helping you slide open on his cock as he inches deeper. Satisfied by your lack of discomfort, Leon leans in, kissing you once more as he bottoms out inside of you. The stretch is insane. You feel so full, and yet it isn't necessarily uncomfortable. You never thought he would fit, letting your head roll back with the satisfying sensation of him deep in your guts. You feel lucky that Leon is so kind and considerate, and despite his hips rolling into you soft and slow, he hasn't properly started to move yet.

After trailing soft, loving kisses up your chest and neck towards your face, and murmuring sweet nothings about how hot you are, how cute, how much you turn him on and how good you feel, he begins to slowly move. He pulls out about half way before gently pushing back in. Eyes trained on you, he repeats his motions, hips becoming a little more confident, grinding and rolling into you with each thrust. Already, you begin to feel all fuzzy inside. As he picks up the pace, Leon gently places his hands either side of your waist, kneading and gripping the flesh there as softly as he can as he fucks into you.

Within seconds, you're lost in the heat of the moment, literally. Body tingling all over wherever his meets yours. Your room no longer silent and peaceful, now orchestrated by lewd sounds of skin-on-on skin, soft whimpers and pornographic moans. Before long, the sound of a creaking bed joins the mix as Leon loses himself further in you. Groaning loudly, he throws his head back as his hips piston into you. Still doing his best to please you, there's an element of playful roll and dance in his movements, but it's clear Leon is chasing his own forsaken pleasure as he pummels deeper and deeper into you.

Unable to help himself, he begins to whine: "Oh fuck, you're so perfect"

"You're so hot, you're so cute."

Choking out a particularly violent moan, Leon wrangles his head back down to stare at you. He's a mess, hair clinging to his forehead, ears flopping comically as he fucks you deep. His eyes are dark with desire, flickering again from your breasts to your face, prompting him to lean down to kiss you once more. It's messy and breathy, mainly consisting of Leon moaning and licking into your mouth, his tongue wrestling yours for dominance as his hands move elsewhere. Fondling your breast in one hand, the rough digits of his other land on your clit, drawing small, fine circles with an almost practiced ease.

"Ohh god you're so tight", he sobs.

You whine and quiver, bucking into him, and whilst he doesn't seem to mind, his hips only pound you harder back into the bed. Back beneath him, where you belong. Breath heavy and rugged, he sounds exhausted, but his hips never slow or threaten to stop. Whatever affected him must have given him an insane, inhuman drive, you reckon, as he continues to hammer into you with each long, drawn out thrust. Each slap of his hips sees him pulling out at least a good 5 inches before sliding right back in as if it were where he too belonged.

"Is it good?? You like it??", he whimpers, voice strained between thrusts. His throat was thick, breath echoing desire.

Eventually, you can feel it coming: release. And you can tell by the way Leon's moans grow in volume that he is too. Eyes screwed shut, his head falls back again as this time, he grips you by your thighs. He marvels at the way you dimple between his fingers, drool falling from his chin onto your abdomen as he props your legs high, over his shoulder, so he can hit so much deeper into you. Your moans and whines only egg him on, his thrusts becoming faster, deeper and more aggressive as he almost snarls, burying his face as close to your neck as possible given the position.

Leon begins to groan softly as he feels you tightening around him. You know he might cum soon, and so, you begin to toy with your clit (or don't, its fine) as you reach up to cup his burning face in yours. The second you touch his face, his snaps and growls turn into desperate, whimpering moans as he pulls back to look into your eyes. He begins to shiver, yelping into your ear, trying to warn you. The stutter of his hips tells you exactly what he wants you to know, that he's close. Your touch on his face seems to have reminded him just who he was fucking, and that really, he should have warned you.

"I-I'm gonna cum" he whines in your ear "I'm s- I'm gonna-" he chokes out between moans and sighs. He was about to tell you he was sorry. He was about to pull out. But something inside told him he shouldn't. No, something told him he couldn't. It was in this moment that Leon decided he had to cum in you. Everything was so perfect right now, his cock buried in your hot cunt. The sounds of his skin slapping yours, the sounds of his dick ploughing through your wet folds. He needed it. He needed to be with you, to feel this all the time. He had to cum inside. He had to claim you.

"G-go on Leon..." you moan softly. Leon wanted badly to do exactly as you said. Mind swiftly fleeing him, Leon feels his body go shiver and shake, hips only now losing their rhythm slightly. His vision is clouded with images of you, overlapping the only real sight of you below him. Zoning in on your sounds, your blissed out face. Addicted to your soft skin and warmth, he reaches the his limit. With a guttural moan, Leon commits to a series of short, deep thrusts, snapping his hips into yours seemingly in rhythm with his cock as it spurts thick ropes into you. He closes his eyes, collapsing onto your chest now, moaning and whimpering into your breasts as his hips continue to gyre into you.

You were fortunate that Leon, despite his braindead state, possessed the primal urge to continue fucking his load into you, because as he did so, combined with the violent kicking and throbbing of his cock, he continued to edge you closer and closer to your own orgasm as you harshly rub your clit, desperate to give in before his hips do. Glancing down, you note his blissed out expression. Happy face, red cheeks, tightly shut eyes. He looks as though he could sleep any second, drooling over your breasts as his large, flat tongue laps up the mess, licking messily at your nearest tit.

You begin to notice his thrusts becoming extremely short now, not caring to pull out at all before grinding against you. And all of the above combined with his incessant grinding on your clit brings you over the edge, joining him.. Spasming a little, you clamp down on his cock, back arching into him and shaking. Leon's ears perk up and he quickly rises to attention again, sensing your change in pulse. He begins to lick and groom you all over, softly lapping at your throat and collarbones. He tastes your skin and your sweat and nibbles at your pulse points, as, shaking, you come down from your high slowly.

"Fuck... you're so tight... squeezing me so good" he whines, eyes shutting again as if you've sapped every ounce of his energy. "I had no idea ladies... came like that" he sighs against you, nibbling your ear passionately now, slowly starting to still his hips inside you. He was right... You were so tight against him. It felt as though he was getting bigger. Maybe it was just the stretch of his cum? You try and reason with yourself.

Glancing down at Leon, you realise he, too, is confused. He groans against you, now laying above you, his tail wags hard behind him as his hips autopilot themselves deeper suddenly. You start to panic a little. What's going on? "L-leon" you whimper, feeling yourself stretch even more, eyes squinting as you realise that he probably hasn't pulled out because he can't "'s too big... what's happening?" you groan, throwing your head back. In response, Leon is silent for a while. He's gone back to nibbling at your pressure points, hands greedily kneading the flesh of your breasts before he reaches down and, to your surprise, toys with your clit again.

"Leon... what-"

Cutting you off, suddenly, Leon rolls onto his back, bringing you with him. He stares up at you tenderly as he kisses into your mouth again before replacing his tongue with two of his fingers. They rest on your tongue, pinning it down, silencing you. His actions are dominant and unexpected, but not too rough as his hips continue to lazily roll into yours. Combined with the stretch and his ministrations on your clit, you almost feel like you could cum again like this, being used to nurse his cock.

Then, he leans down to whisper in your ear "Please, babe, don't be scared. Just stay nice and pretty for me, okay? Gotta knot you and pump you full so it takes, okay?" You whine around his fingers, not in protest, but in reaction to his words, which only has him pressing his fingers down a little harder onto your tongue, threatening to slip them down your throat. "Shhhh" he soothes, his voice a little more rough and less playful "Gotta make sure I fill you with lots of pretty puppies, okay?"

Dumb, all you can do is nod. You wouldn't want it another way. You'd never wanted kids before, but something about having your entire body spent, laying on his chizelled tone as he holds you close, rubbing into you sends you reeling. Before long, Leon's ministrations on your clit and tits have you grinding against him, whimpering softly until you release once more. To your excitement, the contractions of your spent pussy have Leon's dick throbbing once more, painting more of your womb. Only some of your combined juices manage to escape past his knot. The rest serving to swell your abdomen.

With excitement, he occasionally prods at your belly,, humming in delight as he kisses and licks you all night, obsessed with you. Only a small portion of you brain is even functioning now. And it's going over the amount of times you dismissed Leon's worry about intimacy. He seemed to have this very correct hunch that something would go... wrong. Or that you might be displeased.

Was him passively forcing you to serve his cock, stuffing you full of cum and barely allowing you to make a sound wrong? You couldn't tell. All you could tell was how good it felt to be ontop of him, to have his huge cock inside you. To get knocked up with his seed.

All you could tell was how good it felt to cum for him many more times that night. How good it felt to hear his gentle words and praise about how good you felt, how hot you'd be once you take, and how much of a dirty little breeding slut you were, just for him, until you both dozed off to sleep, shrouded in eachother's warmth.

Hi guys I didn't really write about the reader's reaction and stuff because A) I found it hard and B) I can't like say how you react??? like I always find it sad when fics are like "you're so wet" "your nipples are hard" etc because like I cant relate n then I feel dysfunctional??? Anyway. Thanks for reading I hate this fic sorry it took 2k years I love you guys thanks for being here and reading this.

also WOAH THAT TOOK A TURN FOR THE HORNY GODDAMN. sorry anout that idk what happened LOL and sorry the fic is so shit n slow I hope u enjoyed it ilysm

Sorry, I gave up on like... bold and italics half way through. And this isn't proof read lol. Thanks for the support guys. Don't worry about reposting and folllowing, especially following, cuz I'm a ghost on here tbh so there's no point. Any comment,s likes etc are much appreciated. Huge ego boost i love you all

stay horny

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jake-g-lockley · 1 year

Text

Sweet Aftertaste (Javier Peña x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Wanna Be Tagged?

A/N: Sort of the sequel to “Cookies and Whiskey” but it can most definitely be read as a stand alone. Dedicated to @lil-stark cuz she’s been giving me the best ideas AHHHHH

Warnings: MDNI, smut, slight somno, cockwarming, marking (hickeys), unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving, kinda m receiving too, you’ll see), male masturbation, creampie, cum eating, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, dirty thoughts 🌚 (lmao let me know if I missed any haha)

Word Count: 2.8 k (of smut y’all)

You wake up with your face pressed in the pillow, a heavy weight pressing over your back. Everything ached around your body and you were hyper aware of the huge hand that had cupped your left tit, your bottom half numb with the pressure that was over you.

Suddenly the weight above you shifted, almost like he was aware you were awake and you felt whatever was between your legs. You stifled a moan as your pussy clenched around the cock that was speared deep inside of you. Your eyes fluttered open and soft light was flooding into the room, which either means you and him were at it for hours or he had fallen asleep with himself buried deep inside of you.

The soft snores from the man above you made you realise that he was still fast asleep, despite his cock being hard as a rock inside of you. You tried to shift, to relieve yourself a little from the aching throb that had started in your pussy, but to no avail.

You slid your hand down to your clit, and started to rub in small circles, the throbbing slowly ebbing out into waves of pleasure. Javier shifts slightly again, this time giving you enough room to gently move yourself up and down his length, your soft gasps and whimpers delivered straight into the pillow under you. It wasn’t long until your climax hits you, a long sigh pushing out of your lungs as you clench uncontrollably around Javier’s cock.

“I’m here, I’m here.” Javier answers and you finally realise that you were whimpering his name over and over as you came.

“Mornin’” you sigh as Javier tightens his grip around you and pushes his hips further into you

“Good morning to you too, princesa. Remember what I said last night?” he murmured into your ear as his fingers lightly pinched your nipple, making you melt further into the bed as your mind raced to figure out what he was on about.

You vaguely remembered attacking Javier with kisses after he and you munched on cookies. He scooped you up bridal style and you remembered refusing to fall asleep, despite being so sleepy that your eyes could barely stay open.

“We have work tomorrow, hermosa, go to sleep.” Javier had whispered.

But even his own resilience had snapped when your lips attached themselves to his neck, slowly turning every patch of skin a different colour, drawing out soft moans from his beautiful mouth.

He took control soon after, flipping you over and slowly undressing you, trailing kisses on every open patch of skin he could gain access to. He fixated on your tits, giving them both equal attention, letting your legs wrap around his torso as he sucked and licked at you, your body arching off the bed to meet his ministrations.

Two of his fingers slipped into your mouth and you sucked them at the same pace as Javier, grabbing ahold of his hand and wetting the two digits with your saliva. Javier smiled against you as he slowly pulled his fingers out, shifting slightly lower down your body and pressing his nose to your clothed mound. He inhaled deeply as his fingers trailed their way down your body.

“Can I please taste you, baby?” Javi keened, his other thumb rubbing small, soft circles on thigh, causing your legs to part further.

“Yes, Javi, please.” the bruises you left on Javier bloomed beautifully on his neck and you lazily smiled at the thought of him having to wear a tie in the Bogotá heat.

He gave you a look of pure ecstasy before diving in once more, licking a long wet strip up your clothed cunt, causing you to tilt your hips towards his face with a bruising moan. Gently, his two pinkies hooked themself onto the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and exposing your cunt to the cold air of the room.

He tucked your already wet panties into his sweats pocket as he brought his two wet fingers to your clit, rubbing gently at your hardening nub. Before you can let out a moan, Javier’s tongue was on you, licking broad strips before paying all attention to your clit, latching himself there and sucking hard, causing you to cry out as he pushed his fingers into you.

“Javi, don’t stop, keep going baby, please!”

It didn’t take him long to pull out an orgasm from you, making you writhe against the bed, the slight course burn of his moustache riling you up further. He didn’t let you come down from your high, effectively trying to pull your second orgasm as your hands slid into his locks, gripping them hard, causing him to eat you out more vigorously. Your legs shook hard, thighs pressing against the side of his face as you whimpered through your release, softly uttering Javi’s name.

As you tried to breathe and stop the room from spinning, Javier was already on his knees, pulling his sweats off and tossing them aside, revealing his throbbing cock. He wiped the access of your release and his saliva from your cunt, using the moisture to lube himself up. You watch him, his face covered with your spend, his hair out of place, his tanned body glistening with sweat, his cock long and hard in his fist.

With one hand, Javier flips you over. You push your butt up, exposing your cunt for Javier and feel him push inside you, stretching you out. The both of you stutter out your moans until Javier bottoms out, his pubic bone flush against your ass. You silently get ready for the hardest railing of your life when suddenly Javier pushes you down and lays on top of you, his mouth against your ear.

“Be a good girl and keep my cock inside you all night. I’ll fill you up to the brim in the morning, watch as you walk around all day at the office with me in you.” Javi’s filthy words flooded through your body like a wave and you whimpered.

“Go to sleep, I need you to be well rested, amor.” he whispered, kissing the shell of your ear.

You have no idea how you or him fell asleep, but exhaustion was apparent between the two of you as you drifted off finally.

Now, you gasped as he moved his hips and pulled his cock slightly out before pushing back in.

“Fuck Javi.” You moan and he chuckles delectably, his morning voice tuning up your arousal.

You stay planted against the mattress as Javier raises up and anchored himself with his elbows, bending down slightly to press a kiss onto your shoulder. He starts out slow, canting his hips back and forth, creating a soft rhythm that harmonised with your moans.

“Feel that baby? Taking me so well, my cock speared in you for hours, keeping you all stretched out.” Javier began to speed up, the angle causing the head of his cock to nudge against the spot that made your thighs shake.

“Just like that Javi, fuck, so fucking good.” You groan into the pillow.

“Pretty baby, perfect pussy, all mine.” Javier take it up a notch, pressing you down with brute force and fucking down into your cunt, his hands gripping hard at your hips.

“Javi, I’m close, please.” You whine as Javi hits all the right spots.

“Come for me, hermosa. Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He’s grinding into you now, you cunt clenching his cock a little too tightly.

Your whole body clenched inwards as you came, Javi’s name spilling out of you like a prayer, his voice coaxing you through, whispering generous praises.

“Javi?” You ask as you float back down to Earth.

“Hmm?” He was lazily fucking into your cunt, his hips barely moving.

“I wanna see you come.” You whisper, suddenly realising that he hadn’t had his own release since the night before.

You silently wondered where he got all the stamina from, his cock harder than ever inside you. He obliges your command, pulling gently as possible out of you and turning you over. He looks beautiful in the morning glow, his sleep-addled eyes making you smile happily up at him.

He takes your legs and places them on either side of his shoulders before slotting himself inside of you once again, pushing a shaky breath out of you. The new angle gave you a new rush of arousal as Javi looked down at you, absolutely in awe.

His hand reaches down to graze your face as he takes all of you in. You reach out and let your fingertips slightly dance against his abdomen, tracing his tummy as he leans slightly forward.

“You’re so beautiful, Javier Peña. You know that?” you lazily whispered into the air as your eyes fluttered close, not before catching the pretty pink flush creeping up his neck.

Javi strained, willing himself not to come just at your words. They were so soft, so you. He couldn’t believe that he had you with him right now, his hand taking yours and lacing your fingers with his.

He needed to feel you, to see you and know that this was really happening. Your thumb reassuringly stroked the back of his hand and he began to move, very slowly thrusting himself in and out of you. He wanted to close his eyes but they were fixated on the way your tits jiggled rhythmically from the way he was moving, the fluidity of your body structure egging him on.

His free hand trails down your abdomen, grabbing your flesh slightly as he paced himself again, not wanting to hurt you from the intensity of his pleasure. You could tell he was holding back but as your eyes found his, you let him have this moment of control as the sounds of your moans and his combined.

Suddenly, he gasped a little, as if holding in a breath, his hand trailing slightly lower and his thumb started rubbing slow pressured circles to your abused nub, making you arch your back slightly at the overstimulation, your eyes shutting fully.

“I know you can give me one more bebita, just breathe and eyes on me.” Javi’s voice was airy and your eyes snapped open.

“Come... with me, please. Fill… me” You stuttered out, despite knowing the fact that Javi had been planning it all along.

Javier pressed his whole body forward, folding you in half, surprised at your flexibility as the both of you came together, Javier’s hips stilling and shooting his load deep into you. Your cunt clenched hard, milking him for all his worth.

You came to first, smiling up at Javier and wiping sweat off his brow, pushing yourself upward to give him a big thank you kiss. Javier chuckled as you kissed him, pulling away after a while so that you could get comfortable.

He watched as his spend mixed with yours dribbled out of your cunt as he pulled himself out, resisting the urge to push it all back with his fingers. You narrowed your eyes at him and slid your hand down your abdomen, collecting his cum that had dribbled out and brought it up to your mouth.

Javier watched open-mouthed as you sucked your fingers clean, putting up a little show for him as your other hand grabbed one of your tits and your back arched up. You opened your mouth to show him and watched him with big doe-like eyes that made him want to repeat every single thing he did to you all over again. You closed your mouth and swallowed, smirking up at him as he reminded himself to breathe.

“Oh you devil woman.” He hissed, gathering you up in his arms.

“Only yours.” You whispered back with a wink as Javier stood up and carried you bridal style into the bathroom, smiling as you gently kissed his jaw before tucking your face into the space at his neck.

Javi puts you down and turns on the rain shower and he pulls you close so that your back is flushed to his chest grabbing his shampoo bottle and lathering the product into your hair. You couldn’t help but moan at the way his dexterous fingers started massaging your scalp. Javier stared warningly down at you as his cock started hardening again against your behind.

Despite getting riled up again, he silently continues to slowly massage your head and you’re literally in ecstasy, your moans and groans filling up the shower and mingling with the steam. Once he's rinsed out all the shampoo, he gets a washcloth and starts gently rubbing your body and your heart swelled with happiness at the way he was treating you.

He softly kissed the marks that he had left on your body and whispered apologies against your skin, barely audible over the sound of the shower and the water hitting your bodies. Javier dropped to his knees and rubbed between your legs, making you gasp softly. It was his time to smirk up at you and you internally rolled your eyes exasperatedly at him as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

After he’s done with you, he turns off the shower and wraps you up in a towel, practically kicking you out of the shower as you kiss him a little too deeply again. You respect the fact that Javier needed a little alone time as you padded your way out of the bathroom to explore his flat and find some clothes for yourself.

The second you closed the door behind you, Javier turned the water as cold as he possibly could handle, his hand finding his hardened cock and his arm bracing himself against the shower wall. He couldn’t get over the thought of you licking his spend of your fingers, behaving in such an erotic manner only for his eyes to see. He bites his bottom lip to keep the unholy sounds from escaping, tightening his fist around his cock, pretending that it was your warm, beautiful mouth.

His eyes were screwed tightly shut as he tried to imagine how his hands would slide into your hair, gripping it tightly at the root as he used you to get himself off. Your muted moans and cries would be too much for him to handle and he wouldn’t last long if you kept gagging around his cock, your throat closing around the head, causing him to shoot his load straight down your oesophagus.

Javier gasped in deep breaths as his cock spurted thick loads of cum, causing him to feel giddy and dizzy. He slowed down his movements to prolong his release, slumping against the shower wall as the water calmed him down from his high, taking big gulps of hair to fill his lungs. He quickly rinsed himself off and dried off, wrapping a towel around his waist and exiting the bathroom.

He heard sounds coming from his kitchen and he went to lean against the wall opposite it, watching you. You had taken one of his shirts and modified it to fit you, the sleeves folded and the excess fabric tied at the front. You were pouring out two cups of coffee before looking up and grinning at Javier. Your hair was partially dried and it was dampening the shoulders of his shirt but he thought you looked absolutely stunning, his smile lopsided and his dimple apparent.

You walked up to him and kissed his cheek, handing him his cup of coffee, which he gladly thanked you for, immediately taking a sip, before setting it down to go and get ready. You slipped into his room and watched as he tucked in his shirt and buckled his belt, grinning shamelessly at the bruises he sported on his neck. You grabbed the tie set out on his bed and pushed him to sit down, standing between his legs.

Javier’s hands rested on your hips as you slowly knotted his tie. You loved the domesticity of the situation, the quiet morning creating a picture of peace for you and him to enjoy. You folded his collar and adjusted it so that the worst of the bruises were covered. You turned around and grabbed his bottle of cologne, spraying it on him before spraying some on yourself. Javier raised his eyebrows at you, amused and you shrugged.

“What? I don’t have my perfume with me.” You said as you capped the bottle and Javier stood up and wrapped his arms around you.

“Might I remind you that you now smell identical to me?’ He said before kissing the soft spot behind your ear.

“So?” You whispered.

“People are going to talk.”

“Let them, Javi.” Your hands trailed up his arms that were around you.

Javi hummed against your neck, agreeing to whatever you were saying. Their opinions didn’t matter anyway, you were his and he was yours and absolutely nothing in this world would change that.

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~

Taglist: @joygirlmelii @wolfbook87 @nyotamalfoy @minigirl87 @alexxavicry @bloodredwolfsbane @euphoricosmo @celiaswife @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @magic-schoolbusdropout @anony-muse @anonymously35 @nerdreader

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under-the-dirt · 6 months

Text

water.

HIHIHIIHI!!! it’s my first time writing smut!!!!! (except the one time i wrote something for manwich but we don’t talk abt that <3) and i’m sossosososososso nervous!!! but, i’m obsessed w the idea so hopefully i can get it out into the world!!!

pairing: soap x reader

tags: implied fem!reader (sorryz!), shower sex, dom!soap, sub!reader, a little dacryphillia, soap is a meanie, established relationship (ig that’s like all my fics so far lmao), pet names, praise, degredation, aftercare, obviously smut, orgasm denial (only once :3), overstim, uhhhhh idk what else to out!! UNDER 13 DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF I SEE YOU’RE UNDER 13 AND STILL INTERACTING!!!

You had to admit, you’d been a bit of a brat that day. You were horny and Soap was just working and refusing to help!

So, you decided to take a shower to “blow off steam” if you will..

Sitting on the shower floor, the water running down your face as your fingers rubbed desperate circles on your clit. You’d been like this for at least 2 minutes, and you didn’t even feel close to anything! You let out a soft whine, although it came out as a breathy moan far louder than you intended, getting the attention of your boyfriend.

“Ah, ‘aving fun wi’out me lassie?” Soap asks, his accent echoing through the small bathroom. You freeze in fear and apprehension, as you’ve almost never had to masturbate since the two of you started dating.

“You were ignoring me!” You whine, removing your hands from between your legs and bringing them to your side. You squeeze your thighs shut, looking up at him with doe-eyes and blush on your cheeks. He huffs, and you hear his clothes hit the floor. Your eyes widen and your blush spreads further.

“Aw, but you ‘aven’t even gotten anywhere?” He teases, stepping inside the shower and standing over you, dwarfing your entire body on the ground. He laughs, looking down at you with mock pity. You stand up and pout slightly, crossing your arms over your chest. “We can’t ‘ave that now can we, lass?” He purrs, removing your arms from your chest and crossing your wrists, bringing them above your head with one hand.

Your eyes light up, excited to finally get this attention, and you feel the throb between your legs grow from what it had been all day. You whine softly, and he hums in response, pressing a thumb to your clit and rubbing ever so gently. Not enough to get you off, no, just enough so you know he’s there. You squirm and whimper softly.

“All desperate, aren’, we, little brat?” He laughs, removing his hand and pressing his knee between your thighs to keep your legs spread. You try to move your hips and ride his thigh, but he tuts and slaps your thigh. “Not yet lassie.”

“Sir, please!!” You beg, and he chuckles. Your eyes tear up in desperation, unable to move and squirm or get the friction you’re so desperate for. He moves his knee a little higher, ensuring your pussy is exposed to the open air.

“Oh, such a pretty thing. All for me, yeah lass? ‘s all mine?” He says, running a thumb through your slick folds.

“Y-yes! All for you, please!” You whine, attempting to squirm, and he grabs your hip tight enough to bruise. When you begin to feel water on your sensitive pussy, you get confused. Wasn’t he blocking the water? Looking down, you see Johnny holding the showerhead to your cunt, and looking up you see him staring at you with an almost sadistic smirk.

You begin moaning as he angles the water to hit your clit perfectly, a constant barrage against your sensitive bundle of nerves and you can’t take it. You mewl, moan and whine, and to no avail! He just moves the showerhead closer, sending shockwaves through your body that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Please- please Johnny! Sir, please,” You beg between breathless moans and soft whimpers, and he tuts again.

“What ‘re you wantin’ lass?” He asks with faux sympathy, and you sob softly.

“Want your cock- pleasepleaseplease!!” You continue whining, feeling your brain turning off as pleasure takes over.

“Hmm.. I don’t think a little brat like you should get my cock,” He states simply, and you sob, tears rolling down your cheeks and droll running from your mouth. “Oh stop cryin’. All you’re gettin’ is this, so you better cum.”

You attempt to squirm, which has him gripping your hip harder and changing the setting on the shower head, intensifying the attack against your clit. You cry and moan, beginning to feel that knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter. Your eyes roll back, and he clearly doesn’t like this.

“No, look at me, brat,” He commands, and you have no choice but to oblige. You maintain eye contact, somehow, with your doe-like eyes and breathless moans and whimpers. Your mouth is open in a pretty ‘o’ shape, and he chuckles.

He presses the showerhead closer, and you know he can tell you’re close.

“Mmh- sir can- can i?” You ask sweetly, broken up by your moans and gasps.

“Can you what? Use your words, bonnie” He coos.

“Ca- Can i cum, please?” You say breathlessly, praying he’ll say yes as you feel the knot drawing tighter and tighter.

“Hmm.. Not yet.”

You whine louder, soft sobs breaking up desperate whimpers. After what felt like a century, he decides to ease your pain.

“‘right lassie, go on, cum for me.” He rubs your hip with his thumb, and you immediately cum so hard you see stars behind your eyelids. He does it again, and again, until your legs are shaking and chest heaving. He finally decides to stop, turning off the shower and picking up your exhausted body. He steps out, grabbing two towels, using one to dry you off and another to dry himself. He wraps his towel around his waist before picking you up again and carrying you to your shared bedroom, laying you down on the soft blankets as you so desperately wanted.

“Johnny.. what.. what about you?” You ask gently, innocently, gesturing to the tent in his towel which must be painful at this point.

“Aw, don’t worry about me, sweet darling.” He coos, sliding on sweatpants and climbing into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and holding your back to his chest. He kisses your neck and shoulder, rubbing your stomach gently.

OMGEEEZIESSSS!!! that was my first time writing smut and i think it was pretty decent but pleasepleaseplease lmk what i could improve on! keep in mind i have no real life experience so idk how realistic it is :[ also i hope the anon who had this idea finds this!! <3333

@bunnyreaper

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty #cod smut #cod #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap smut #soap x reader #soap x you

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foli-vora · 2 years

Text

day 13: monster fucking - eddie brock & venom.

warnings: f!reader. 18+ ONLY. praise, p in v, monster fucking, rough sex, anal play/penetration, tentacle goodness

a/n: 643 words. this is my first tip toe into monster fucking territory lmao. hope it's okay! enjoy x

It’s too much.

It’s too fucking much.

It always is with them, and yet you fucking love it.

You live for it. You breathe for the way they fill you and bring you to the edge again and again and again. You hang for the feel of slick, inky black tendrils stretching along your skin, pulling you this way and that, tightening around your flesh and wrapping around your throat, slowly constricting and squeezing until you’re clenching hard around Eddie’s cock.

Sometimes he’s patient, simply content with letting Eddie have his fill of you and waiting for the green light to step in and have his turn.

Calm. Soft. Mirroring Eddie’s ever present adoration for you and showering you in his newly discovered love for giving and receiving affection, purring and curling under your hands. I enjoy this, tiny human.

Other days, like today, he fucking snaps.

He can’t hold back – he refuses to, rendered restless and itching for more from the sweet moans and wild cries Eddie pulls from your chest and the way you look so soft and open for them splayed across the bed, each lewd slap of flesh bouncing off the walls quickly dismantling his carefully crafted patience.

The black mass explodes from Eddie’s body and grows over his frame in mere seconds until you’re staring up at those large, white eyes in what feels like a blink.

The cock buried in you swells as the ripple of Venom overtaking Eddie pulsates against your walls, thickening and stretching your cunt until you feel like you physically can’t take anymore of it.

You attempt to pull yourself away from it, to scramble away a few inches at the very least, but the breath gets torn from your lungs with the longer the sticky tendrils keep you tethered against his hulking body.

Further extensions of him crawl along your skin, wrapping you in a web like embrace and keeping you full to the fucking brim, a low rumble of approval sounding from his chest with the more you whine and shift in an attempt to adjust to the sudden mass of him pushing heavily against your cervix.

He fucks you hard, slamming into you and forcing you to take the entire thick length of him again and again and you swear you feel him in your stomach.

“She can take it,” he purrs deeply, no doubt in response to Eddie presumably having something to say. “So good for us… always so good.”

You weaken at the praise as a slick tongue winds around your nipple, coating the pebbled peak with saliva before it drags a wet path up the skin of your throat.

Despite being stuffed full, his cock stretching the walls of your cunt to the brink of pain as he ruts into you with unforgiving force, you still beg for more, voice weak and shaky and fingers desperate as they dig into his thick skin.

"Our sweet girl is so greedy," he rumbles, amused and almost proud.

You feel the pressure of a tendril smooth over the skin beneath where he fucks into you, swirling through the arousal gushing from your entrance and smoothing it over the puckered hole of your ass.

A string of incoherent pleas fall from your tongue as it slides in with little resistance, quickly thickening and stretching you out until it starts to fuck you in time with his cock.

It's too much, and it's fucking glorious.

Stars frame your vision as you're dragged up to your blissful peak, quickly falling over the edge with a broken scream and Venom laps it up with a rumble of his own, his mouth spreading into a wild grin that's all sharp teeth and the promise of no mercy.

"Yess," he hisses, tendrils clutching you closer as he fucks into your cunt and ass, "scream for us."

Reminder: taglists will not be used for kinktober. I’m tagging every fic with #foliskink22 if you want to follow along for the ride!

#foliskink22 #eddie brock x reader #venom x reader #eddie brock x f!reader #venom x f!reader #eddie brock x you #venom x you #marvel fanfiction

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zalrb · 5 days

Note

for your recent ask on how to build relationships in movies where you used willabeth as an example i was just thinking of them as i read ur post lmao! what do u think are some underrated aspects of their relationship in the films ? and if you had to pick a favorite film of the potc trilogy based on just willabeth, which would you pick?

Oh, yay! A Willabeth ask!

AWE automatically wins on "At Wit's End" (aka "Will and Elizabeth's love theme") alone. That is the soundtrack to a cosmic, epic, transcendental, soul-moving, earth-shattering love story, that is the epitome of a romantic composition, it is everything. Like just listen.

But I mean, the scenes that they have in this movie?

I'm not sure that there's anything that shippers find underrated about them, it would just be in response to Sparrabeth shippers or people who are anti-Willabeth, which I just don't find merits a response but something I do quite enjoy about the Willabeth love story is the role Jack plays in it and how his respective bonds with Will and Elizabeth actually reinforce that love story:

Like, Jack helps Will come to terms with his parentage and history

and therefore who he is and Will, in turn, saves Jack from the gallows.

Elizabeth has faith in Jack, tells him he’s a good man, helps him see the morality of situations

and Jack does prove her right in Dead Man’s Chest by coming back to help the crew but I think the most significant way he proves her right is by going against a desire he wanted for all of At World’s End so he can do right by Will (and it actually goes further than his desire throughout At World’s End but to a fundamental passion like he sold his soul to Davy Jones to get the Pearl, that’s how much he loves the sea)

and then you had Jack speaking to Elizabeth’s desire for freedom

and encourages her obtainment of that freedom, of that agency, of that power

which ultimately leads back to her choosing to love and be with Will

which, despite what antis say, isn't a regression. The trilogy begins with seeing her discomfort in "polite society" and feeling pressured into doing what's expected i.e. an engagement to Norrington

which includes hiding her fascination with pirates as well as her feelings for Will

the two things are interconnected. In fact, when we see her being chastised for not behaving the way she should, it's when she's too intimate with Will

Her interest in pirates is signified with her keeping Will's medallion

her choosing Will is also her choosing her own freedom

Will even teaches her how to fight

and throughout the trilogy, it's them discovering more facets of themselves i.e. Will reunites with his father, Elizabeth actually gets to be a pirate but what even got them on those journeys was trying to find/help the other so they can be together

and those layers just bring them back together stronger. This has always been the point

This also isn't exactly underrated but I find when I go into the tag, there's a lot of emphasis on what Will does for Elizabeth, how he supports her, how in love with her he is, how devoted to her he is and I completely understand why but also Elizabeth's devotion to Will deserves a spotlight as well.

Going to fight undead pirates alone to save Will

Being both surprised and upset at Will even considering that she could be in love with Jack

Giving away the entire plan because she couldn't feign disinterest when Sao Feng acted as though he'd stab Will

Having to literally be carried away by Jack when Will was stabbed

Even the smaller, in between things like Will shouting at Elizabeth to shoot at the barrels of rum but her refusing because he was still caught in the net.

I just love them so much.

#willabeth #potc #will x elizabeth #elizabeth x will #pirates of the caribbean

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aliorsboxostuff · 1 year

Note

So how about sub din who is just started to date Dom reader and hasn't taken his helmet off yet. So things are getting steamy with them both and is din sitting on readers lap grinding on him and reader asks if he wants to take a step further and din nods yes. And reader makes sure that din is comfortable and says to leave the helmet on for din and doesn't want to rush him. And leads to din first time with reader and is riding him in the control room in the razor crest. I hope you are doing good and really glad that you are taking mandalorian requests.-🐸

A/N Oh 🐸, you with your amazing ideas, and always so descriptive! Though I gotta change the 'Started dating reader' part because the Din in my heart is a socially awkward mf that needs at LEAST 6 months of relationship development before holding hands. I also hope you are doing well! Yall gotta bear with me here this is gonna be my FIRST take on a star wars fic, let alone a Mandalorian fic, so if I do make any mistakes while writing some Mando'a words here, feel free to DM me or reply so I can fix where I wrote it wrong! As always, apologies for some mistakes, english is my 2nd language, and enjoy dear Readers! <3

Ner Din'ika

Tags: Din Djarin x m!Reader, Grogu, Luke Skywalker, he's there as Grogus's teacher tho lmao, Mando'a words (Translation at the end), Bottom!Din, soft!Din, Keldabe kiss, First Kiss, Riding, Pet names, touch-starved!Din, fluff, fluff and smut, aftercare.

Din's first time with you is—as expected—filled with yearning and want and scalding touches and a kiss?

[Takes place around the time frame of Grogus training in Book of Boba Fett, but i refuse to let The Razor Crest explode so here we are]

You stand at the mouth of The Razor Crest, watching as Din supervised Grogu’s latest training with Luke. The kid has flown a total of five little pebbles and an even more impressive number of bigger boulders, seven now counting. Din, worry and protectiveness practically oozing from his armor, stands off to the side, just near the tree lines, eyes watchful of his foundling as Luke, yet again, lets the little boy fly over his head. You’d deem it dangerous, stars, maybe irresponsible. But what do you know about Jedi training?

Instead, your eyes follow the line of Din's stature. His arms are crossed, leaning against some of the bamboos. Clearly trying to resemble a sort of relaxed stance, but you can see the tension, feel it even. Comes with being a Mandalorian’s boyfriend, you chuckle. Those broad shoulders lean back, Beskar reflecting the shining light of the growing evening, slowly he turns his head to glance at you sitting on the Crest’s mouth. You meet his visor, grinning, before he curtly turns back to where he was watching his kid. Your smile widens.

You met him through Cara Dune. She’s a good friend of yours, the one who pulled you out of your boring everyday life on Sorgan, used to fish the little morsels from your villages ponds, to hanging around her and earned her respect. Until that Beskar donned man and his little green kid came. Thought he wanted to take in Cara and you were ready to step in his way, but after they dueled, they came to a truce and started their alliance. He helped the villagers fight off the raiders that once terrorized the place, and once that's done he opted to leave, not before you hitched a ride to Nevarro with Cara.

It had to be admitted, the kid did catch your heart and held on to it, so you offered to help him and Grogu find his kind. Cycles after your initial meeting, you’ve grown close with both Din and Grogu, curious at the man’s past and equally drawn to him. Then that imperial bastard, Moff Gideon, had to up and steal the kid. So you, Cara, Bo-Katan and Hell, Boba Fett himself, joined forces to save him.

The universe truly is bountiful to its protector, because you didn't take into account that saving The Mandalorians kid would give you the honor of learning his name and, by stars, becoming his boyfriend. Remembering back to those months, you still think you're the luckiest warrior in the whole galaxy to be blessed with such an amazing and loving clan of three.

Reeling back to reality, far into the field, you see Grogu has gone tired and Luke has halted their training for the day, the little green guy already slumping into the dirt below and curling in on himself. You sigh fondly, walking down the ramp and jogging to wear Grogus doe eyes are already half lidded, and he yawns.

“Come here kiddo,” You coo as you pick up his little body, cradling him in your arms. You see Luke talking to Din, too far away for you to catch, but you could see him nodding to Lukes animated chatter. You smile, glancing back down to Grogus little head burying himself deeper into your warmth, he’s already pawing at the jacket you're wearing, which makes you giggle and pull it around his little body.

Luke walks over to where you’re standing, smiling as he sees Grogu already bundled up by you. “We should have dinner first before we sleep, right Grogu?”

Now that made his floppy ears perk. Grogu immediately turns from where you were hugging him, making grabby hands and incoherent words at the idea of food, which you smile at before handing him to Lukes waiting arms.

“We’ll join you in a bit,” You said, and Luke nodded, already turning back into the direction of his temple.

On cue, Din approaches you and slides an arm around your middle, pulling you to him at which you welcome the tug. With a steady hand on the cool Beskar chest plate, the two of you watch as Grogu flails his arms around, undoubtedly talking about something that only Luke could understand, the serenity of the fields surrounding you lulls you into a sense of peace. You turn to meet Dins visor, directed at Luke and Grogu, before it slowly turns to you, making you smile softly. Slowly, you bring your hand to caress the side of his helmet, fingers edging slightly under it, taking in the feeling of that powerful metal that has saved your boyfriend countless times. His gloved hand holds your wrist, not tugging away, just an anchor, a testament to his trust in you to know you’ll never take off his helmet, to know you’re patient to let Din take his own pace.

The hand holding his helmet pulls slightly, and Din comes with. Your eyes flutter close as you feel the cold Beskar touch your crown, sighing when a shaky hand cups your jaw, bringing you closer. Despite the gap the armor creates, you’re never tired of feeling Dins hand on your nape, heavy over your pulse, burning even through his gloves. You smile, pulling back slightly, before you press a kiss to where his cheeks would be. “Let’s eat, cyar’ika,” You whisper, and you feel him nod.

You smile when he pulls back, arm still securely on your hips while the other smoothes over your jaw. You chuckle, pulling him to the smell of dinner being prepared by Luke, tugging him by his hand.

—

After dinner is done and cleaned, Din has given Grogu his nightly bath and the kid is ready to pass out at any moment. Luke has taken him to his quarters and settled the little one on his own bed, just on the other side of his room. The bots have yet to make more sleeping quarters, still focusing on more classes and storage area, so the only available bed room would be Lukes, where Grogu is also staying.

You and Din have known this from your last visits, opting to sleep in the privacy of the Crest instead. So you and Din bid the two a good night, and trek up the clearing where the ship is docked.

Din’s arm never left your side, holding and pressing slightly, making you arch a brow at him. He only stares at you, undoubtedly false innocent eyes inside that helmet. You scoff, nudging him aside before pressing the button to close the ramp, submerging the two of you in the darkness of the Crest, shards of the twin moons the only thing leading you and Din up into the hull of the ship.

His hands now roam around your body, pushing you slightly until your back hits the wall, you return his desperate touch with the same fervor. Finding the sliver of body suit on his hip not covered by his armor, you snake insistent fingers into the fabric and squeeze, his helmet not able to hide his groan.

“Easy dearest,” You smooth your hand over the area, other hand holding the side of his neck, thumb drawing soothing circles. “Let's take these off, alright?” He nods shakily.

You lead him to the compartment next to the sleeping pod, the table there clean of clutter and made to store Dins armor. Piece by piece, starting with his shoulder pauldrons, each part eased off with care, pressing a kiss to the Mudhorn signet, you can hear Dins stuttered breath. Then down to his vambraces, littering kisses from his shoulder and leading a path down to his forearm, then hands as you carefully pry off those thick gloves. You push Din slightly so his waist hits the edge of the table, pressing another kiss to the bare skin of his hand, half lidded eyes meets his visor at which you hear him exhale a ragged breath.

Carefully unbuckling the belts around his breastplate, setting it on the table before you pull off the breastplate, the bodystocking stretches over his broad chest deliciously. As you put the armor piece aside, your hand smoothes over the fabric, pressing slightly where you know Din is sensitive the most, watching him inhale sharply before you smirk, littering kisses on your way down. As you crouch, you move to take off each leg piece, first tigh guards, pressing light kisses on the exposed fabric, then shin guards and the belts on top of it, then finally the knee-pads and his heavy boots. Gentle hands stoke up slightly, pushing the end of his pants up until you feel the tickle of leg hair, Din visibly shaking on top of you, gripping the table behind him until his scarred knuckles turn white.

You smile, languidly making your way up his body, unwrapping his cape and setting it aside. The final divide between you and your boyfriend. His last brick, and the wall crumbles down.

Shaking hands clasps at your back as you press kisses on his still covered clavicle, making the fabric damp and warm as he squirms. You hear his breath grow ragged, then you bite down, just enough to hear him groan and drop his head to your shoulder, his hands holding onto you like a lifeline.

“Sleeping pod or-”

“T-the cockpit…” He falters as you press another kiss nearing his neck. “Please,”

You hum, nodding against his neck before leading him by the hand, careful touches along his hips as you usher him up the stairs. You follow suit, not forgetting to grab the lube from the compartment on the wall.

When your feet touch the cockpits floor, Din impatiently pulls you up, hands stroking over your chest, down to your hips at which he breathes raggedly under your chin. You chuckle, moving him back until he feels the control panel. He almost jumps to sit on it, but you sit back on the captain's chair, you pull him towards you, making him stumble into your lap. His whine reverberates through his helmet's modulator adding a static edge to it. You made sure he’s comfortable before sliding your hands to his back, reaching to tug the zipper down.

The zippers opens his backside into the night's cold air, making him arch into your warm touch, pressing his clothed cock to your lap. He whines from the movement, holding on to your shoulders, almost crushing them. With each skin slowly being revealed into the night's air, you press your lips against it, reveling in each whine and ragged breath you got out of Din. With every part of the suit being peeled, Din’s tanned skin is shown, bathed under the light of the moons and stars. Scars on his body paint an infinite constellation, your eyes following each one, from the deep ones to those that have grown lighter than Dins expanse of skin.

Finally, he pulls at the tight bodysuit, discarding it somewhere on the floor, and his hands paws at your jacket, labored breath impatiently prying it off of your figure. You grin, shrugging the article off, followed by your shirt, leaving the both of you shirtless and breathless. Dins shaking hand strokes down your shoulder, to your arms, before he arches into you when your languid fingers trace his sensitive back, sending jolts rippling through his body.

“Please…” Despite his helmet still perfectly secured on his head, you could feel his warmth ghosting at your neck. It truly has been a while since you and Din shared some privacy, always jumping from planet to planet, looking for more Mandalorians to repair broken bonds and doing favors that benefit Din’s covert. Only now did you and your boyfriend get to breathe in the warm embrace of peace within this planet, so you're not surprised just how sensitive Din has gotten.

“What do you need kar’ta?” Your hand holds Dins hip, no doubt leaving marks to be cherished in the morning, letting him grind himself on your thigh, broken moans and breath singing into your ears. You pride yourself for learning bits of Mando’a if only to hear his gasps each time you use it. “Hm? What do you want?”

“I- ugh,” Din grunts as he feels one hand snakes into his trousers, stroking him steadily, his precum easing the movement. You smirk, other hand tweaking one of his perked nipples, bumping your head against his, making sure the amber in your eyes burns through his visor. The need melts into his skin.

You’ve never gone past reverent touches and helping each other get off by hand, you haven't even gotten the pleasure of seeing Din fall apart by your mouth, but from the way he grinds into your touch, broken moans filling the room, his desperation leaks into your body. “Want me to fuck you?”

“Stars- Yes.” He moans when you tighten your hand just so. You nod, easing your hand away from his cock which makes him whine, until you begin to help him out of his pants.

“Okay, alright,” Your breath stutters when Din grinds over your cock, already tenting in the confines of your pants. Between you and Din’s relationship, the both of you haven't truly moved on from scalding touches and helping each other get off by hand. This is a new territory for Din, and you have to make sure he feels safe and comfortable in your embrace.

You carefully slide him out of his trousers along with his briefs and discard it with the same pile as his top, feeling his strong thighs shake underneath your touch. Fumbling for the bottle of lube, you pour just enough on your hand and warm it up a bit, before following Din’s tailbone down to the top of his arse. He shivers, whining into your shoulder as he feels your digits ghosts over his hole, already squirming in your hold.

“Come on, please,” He begs, nails scratching at your back. You slowly insert one finger, the tip first, letting the Din situate himself to the foreign feeling. He groans, burying himself deeper between the crook of your neck, his mandibles digging slightly at your jaw. The lube easies your finger to push more, deeper, until you hear his high pitch, broken moan, then slowly push in another. At that, he jerks his head to the side, chest still flushed with yours.

When you begin scissoring, Din throws his head back, arches into your touch, which beckons you to chase him, biting at the now exposed column of his neck, making sure to leave marks no one but you know and Din could feel. Din feels delirious, deeply intoxicated from both your fingers and the feeling of your warm mouth pressing over sensitive skin and old scars, jolting each time you bite down or kiss longer to leave darker spots. He scarcely remembers moaning out broken syllables that should form your name, making your hold on his hips tighten, squeezing the scarred skin.

After deeming it enough prep, you carefully pull your fingers out, pressing kisses on the planes of your boyfriend's chest, feeling him take ragged breaths, a steady hue of red throughout his body. You shuffle to discard your pants, hissing when you feel the cold air hit your heated skin. You could feel Din growing impatient, if the way he squirms could be interpreted as that, so you tug your pants off and align yourself under Din.

“Slowly baby, slowly,” You remind him, his thigh shaking with anticipation. Hands holding under his thigh, making sure gravity doesn't take hold, you lower Din’s shivering body, inch by inch. The tight heat of his hole almost stutters your hold, making you groan, feeling the head of your cock inside him. You can feel Dins graps digs into your shoulders as he gasps.

Finally, your thighs are flushed with Dins, feeling the man shudder above you as you try to regain some sort of composure, breathing in shaking breaths. Din claws his way from your pellicals to your chest, making red rivers across your chest. You groan, pushing into his touch, which in turn shifts where you sat, enough to make your boyfriend shiver.

"M-move." He manages. "Move, please."

"Anything for you mesh'la," You say as your teeth dangerously ghosts over his pulse.

Planting your feet on the metal floor, you suppress the cold that shoots up your bones and instead focus on holding Din upright, thrusting into him with each movement. His arms shakes, moves back to grip the control panel, his scarred knuckles a hue lighter. A deep growl rumbles through you when you feel Din’s hole clenching around you, raking blunt teeth across his chest. You trail reverent kisses across a deep scar that runs from his left clavicle to just under his abdomen, Din shivers. In a more tender moment, slowed down after release with the two of you tangled together, you would've asked what those scars meant, wondering about the stories of your boyfriend's life. Maybe later, much later in the night.

When you hear a mewl, almost a hurt sound coming from the man currently flushed on top of you, your lips curls into a sharp grin, before hauling Din from gripping at the ships console to fall into your grasp, his arms immediately around your neck with a choked gasp from the sudden change. With the chair supporting both of your weight, you have the advantage to claw at Din’s hips, digging calloused fingers into his skin, using your strength to push Din up and down.

You feel yourself nearing the edge, with Din clenching around you it’s hard to keep up the pace. The side of his helmet would leave an angry mark on your shoulder, making you grunt when Din lets out a broken whimper and buries his head to the crook of your neck. “C-close, baby,”

“Me too…” He lets out a breathy moan when your hand finds his dick, pumping it hastily, pushing him to his limit.

“Stars i-” You stutter when Din clenches around you. “Fuck- Wish i can kiss you,”

Slip of a tongue. Shit.

Your movement falters, a shiver shoots up when Din pulls his head back, dark visors looking straight to you, assessing you.

"Din i-" But before you could sputter out a reason, an apology for forsaking the trust he gave you, darkness suddenly envelops your vision, rendering you blind. Dins hand covers your eyes, you could feel his calluses over your skin.

Then, as if a searing star itself break the atmosphere, you feel slightly chapped lips against yours, a tickle of stubble and- Is that a mustache?

Din grunts into your mouth, realizing you still have one hand wrapped around him. He moans, moving with your thrusts, his kiss devouring your gasps as you push at him, deepening it. His tongue traces yours and confidently moves in, effectively rendering your brain into a short-circuit. Your mind briefly wonders how such a reserved man has this much skill in kissing, he’s no virgin but surely he hasn't kissed anyone beside you. Then he bites at your lower lip before bringing you deeper again with a hand on your nape, and all hell breaks loose.

You growl into the kiss, basking in the whimper he lets out as your hand moves faster and thrust grows sloppier, but definitely still hitting that spot that makes Din scream. He pulls back, inhaling sharply when you bite lightly on his jaw, feeling the hair that decorate it. Oh you’d worship him just to see his debauched face without being blind, and the thought is enough to make you cum.

You feel yourself release inside Din’s warmth, making him shiver and let out a broken moan of your name. With your hand jerking him off, he follows suit, throwing his head back, painting his chest with strings of pearly cum. Once spent, he slumps into your embrace, helmet already in place and breathing raggedly next to your ear. You pry his hand off your eyes and press a kiss to the sliver of neck you could reach.

Blinking away the little dots from your eyes being closed and pressed by his hand, you slowly steady your breath as you rub circles on Dins pelicals and lower back, feeling him sigh and melt at your touch. You can't help to let out a chuckle, which earns you a questioning sound from your boyfriend.

“Nothing, just…” You smile, licking at your lips, trying to savor Din’s taste. “Best kiss I've ever had.”

That made him chuckle, nuzzling the cool helmet against the side of your neck. “Me too.”

Your smile widens, closing your eyes and simply letting the warmth of after-sex wafts through the cockpit. Speaking of which, you should probably clean up and sleep in the proper sleeping pod. The seat, plush as it is, won't do your back any good. So you reach for your scattered pants, looking for the fabric you always keep in your back pocket. When you finally find it, you shift Din a bit to clean up the mess that went up to both his and your chest, then carefully pull out of the man, making you groan as he shivers, wiping down what leaks out of him and the remaining lube around your length.

Standing up and making your way down takes another effort, but nothing you can't do for Din, sleepy and content Din in your arms. Pushing the button to open the sleeping pod, you set him down on the edge of it before handing him a bottle of water.

“Drink, love,” You grin, before busying yourself on the table where another water bottle is kept and downing it. You hear the hushed shh of Dins helmet as it’s being taken off, then the cap of the water bottle turning. You swallow another gulp of water, before flashes of earliers heated kiss shocks you and makes you choke on the water slightly. You cough, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before closing the bottle and setting it back.

“You uh… Done?” You clear your throat.

“Yeah,” You nod, turning back to see Dins helmet back on and him extending his arm, returning the bottle to you. You set it on the table and push him back to lie down in the pod. It’s always been a tight fit with both you and your boyfriend sleeping in it, but you make do.

When the doors are shut and the lights turned off, another hiss of Dins helmet makes your heart thump harder, but he shifts to place it on a small compartment off to the side and lays his head on your chest, one arm around you. You hook your arm around him, the other playfully raking through his curls. You could tell just from how it coils around your fingers, Din practically purring into your touch like a Loth Cat. You grin, pressing a kiss to his forehead before shifting to get comfortably on the pillow.

“Good night, Din'ika,”

“Good night, Cyar’ika,”

Cyar'ika: Darling, beloved, sweetheart

Kar'ta: Heart

Mesh'la: beautiful

Requests are open!

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x male reader #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x you #lio writes #star wars fanfiction #x m!reader #x male reader #din djarin x m!reader

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vaporwavebeach-writes · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 5 (Collaring)

BTAA Scarecrow x Reader (NSFW)

(1,522 Words)

Summary: There’s a kill collar around your neck

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, tied to a chair, collaring, fear play, a little bit of psychoanalysis, light knife play, dom/sub dynamic

Notes: Ok, now this one was just TOO FUN to write LMAO, u can read this as a continuation to this or as a stand alone, either way, enjoy the fic!!!

An abrupt chill dances up your neck, waking you to your surroundings. Eyes opening groggily, you awaken to thick, rough twine digging into your wrists and ankles, keeping you tied to the arms and legs of a wooden chair.

You try to look around, but you feel something heavy and metal around your neck. It’s when you hear the beeping of a heart monitor when you realize exactly what it is.

“Good morning, sunshine.” You look up in front of you to see the Scarecrow, leaning his hands back on the table behind him, standing with his leg crossed casually. His voice is his usual brand of eerily cheerful. Amusing, but terrifying to be on the other end of, as you have seen by working for him for a while, but unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky this time.

The collar begins to beep slightly faster, hardly noticeable, but your boss, Scarecrow- Dr. Jonathan Crane, he seems to pick up on your nerves easily. Behind his raggedy, burlap mask, you can see the stirrings of morbid excitement as he cocks his head playfully.

“No need to be nervous,” He says nonchalantly. He leans back further, sitting on the table. “You know the drill by now.”

You begin to wonder what you could’ve possibly done to end up to be the next victim of one of the Scarecrow’s infamous kill collars. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?” You ask bluntly.

“Oh! Right to the point,” he chuckles. “Well,” he clears his throat, “It all depends on you- Don’t get scared, and you get to keep your head.”

You roll your eyes, hearing his spiel dozens of times already. “Yeah, yeah- Got it, like you said, I know the drill.”

The Scarecrow gets up, stalking ever so close to you. You feel his cold hand find its way under your chin, tilting up your head to look deep into his gaze. You’ve seen him do this several times, you know this is just an intimidation tactic to toy with his victims.

“So what did it?” You begin, unfazed by his potent glare. “Was it the fact that I knew too much about what was really going on here? Or was it when I reduced you to nothing but a quivering mess when I caught you fucking yourself to the thought of me?”

He lets out a low chuckle, placing a hand on your shoulder, circling around you menacingly. “You could say that.”

“To which one?”

“Oh, I don’t think it really matters too much,” he stops behind you, “…What matters…” You feel your feet come off the floor as he tilts back the chair, “…Is that we need to make an example out of you,” he darkly murmurs in your ear. You let out an involuntary yelp as the chair is suddenly pushed forward.

The kill collar starts to beep slightly quicker now, but it was getting harder to tell if your heart was picking up due to fear, or arousal. Either way, you refuse to let whatever emotions you’re currently feeling be the death of you. Taking a deep breath, you attempt to stabilize your breathing, which the Scarecrow notes aloud.

“Breathing techniques, huh? You must’ve been paying attention to all those times you’ve seen me collar someone. Why? Did you see yourself ending up in a situation like this? Did you try to prepare just in case you did?”

“I learned from the best,” you sigh sarcastically.

“Aw,” he chuckles, “You know, complimenting me won’t get you out of this…” Crane fishes around the inner pocket of his jacket. He makes his way around you once again as the glint of his switchblade is caught in your peripheral vision. “Now answer the question,” The blade is held directly to your chest. “Please.”

“Alright,” You gulp, the beeping of the collar stays consistent. “Yeah, I did think this is how things would end, but you know what?”

“What is it, little lamb?”

“The fact that you have me here, like this, means that I’ve gotten close.”

Crane leans over the back of the chair, cocking his head to meet your eyes. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“I learned some real nasty secrets about your experiments with using JoyCure, an unauthorized drug, on your patients,” you explain, “and, I had you completely spineless for me, the fact that you have me collared here, means you’re afraid. You’re afraid that I know too much about you, criminally and personally, so you have me here to not only kill me, but to kill the fear of knowing about the leverage I have on you.”

You look him dead in the eyes as you make your case, showing him that you are not afraid and refuse to be afraid, no matter how much he tries to make you believe it. You almost forget he still has the blade to your chest until you feel the cold metal trail down and eventually off your flesh.

A low, bubbling, snicker sounds in the warehouse. “My, my,” whispers Crane, awestruck. He toys with the switchblade, fiddling with it in his hands. “Now look who’s playing psychiatrist.” His low snicker erupts into an uproarious laugh, like a hyena. “Oh wow, that is an interesting theory to say the least, and you do make a very promising point,” his voice is directly behind you now. “I can see how you’re trying to flip the dynamic here, thinking you have some control, but unfortunately…” his hands find their way to your shoulders, pinning you to the back of the chair. You hear a sadistic hiss in your ear. “…You’re wrong.”

The air of his breath tickles the side of your neck. Hearing the flick of the switchblade snapping open, the knife is held to your chest once again. However, the knife continues to slide down your uniform- a simple jumpsuit to protect yourself from any chemicals from his fear toxin that may be lingering around the warehouse. The fabric tears and you are left vulnerable, opened up with your underwear exposed. You don’t say a word, but the collar’s heart monitor audibly speeds up.

“There it is…” he whirls around, admiring your exposed flesh- your exposed emotions. “There’s that fear I’ve been so longing to see.” Behind his mask, you could tell he was grinning sadistically. Attempting to keep standing your ground, you keep your head held high as the Scarecrow prowls over to you. “Or, wait a second… maybe, it’s not fear.”

Oh shit.

“Hmmm,” he ponders aloud, “it’s very hard to tell with you.” He claps his hands, throwing his head back. “Well!” his head comes back, the eyes behind his mask eye you up carnally. “There’s always solutions that we can test to distinguish which response is which.” At this point, he’s doing it just to mess with you. Prowling behind the chair, he leans forward, directly to your ear. “…I am a man of science, you know.”

His cold hand drops to your chest. He feels up every inch of your exposed body. Shuddering, his fingers find their way to your undershirt, sliding between the fabric and teasing your nipples. A restrained moan exits your mouth as lightly pinches them.

“Interesting response,” he purrs “someone who is feeling fear wouldn’t have that reaction, so obviously, you’re feeling frustrated…” He lets go of your nipples, flicking his thumb over them. “…Sexually.” You hardly notice that the collar’s beeping sounds faster this time.

“It’s fascinating,” he continues “how fear and arousal are so similar.” His hands finally make their way to your inner thighs, caressing them, teasing. “Heavy breathing…” He drags his hand across your underwear. “Adrenaline, pumping…” His hand finally slips into your underwear, you jump when he finally glides his fingers over your sex, “…Heart, racing.” The beeping of the kill collar continues to ring out.

Gathering the arousal that drips out of your aching sex, Crane applies more pressure and friction against the spot that makes you squirm. He fucks you with his skilled fingers. You breathe out amorously, not giving a shit about the kill collar, which rapidly increases in its beeping, sealing your fate as you come violently.

When you come down from your euphoric high, you realize your head is still on your body. You’re alive. Breathing heavily, you turn your head as best you can, confused, facing the deranged psychiatrist, who lets out an amused chuckle.

“Oh yeah, forgot to mention,” Crane makes his way over back to the table, leaning back casually, soaking in your disheveled state. “That kill collar? It’s a fake.”

Flicking open the switchblade, Jonathan makes his way over to you, using it to unscrew the heavy, metal collar which unclamps from your neck immediately. You feel the sweet relief of being able to move your neck once again, only for the Scarecrow to take your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

His eyes bore into yours deeply. “I needed you to know how easily I can make you squirm.” His voice drips with sadistic venom. “This was just to show you who really has control here.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #btaa scarecrow #btaa scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow imagine #jonathan crane imagine #mia writes batman!!!

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ujinu · 3 months

Text

"you called?"

- hanging out

Warnings: none

Requested by: no one

Atsushi Nakajima

• Turns out you are an spy for the agency! (NOT SPYING ON THE ADA BUTS SPIES ON DIFF PEOPLE FOR THE ADA)

• You two mostly hang out during his lunch breaks

• You both enjoy going on nice little walks, mostly in awkward silence or him rambling before apologizing.

• If headcannon that him and Kyouka like cooking and baking together so he sometimes invites you over since Kyouka enjoys your presence

• Kyouka is a wingwoman so she usually puts you two in more romantic positions on purpose but claims it's an accident. But I mean, you two believe her because she's still a child, why would she do that...?

• If only you two knew.

Dazai Osamu

• Since you two were in the Port Mafia, and were sometimes really busy, the only time you'd see him was after work.

• Sometimes he'd call you and ask to come to a really random location outside of Yokohoma, and learned that it was his home in a shipping container that stank really bad (cannon.)

• From there he'd insist you'd eat some canned foods with him but you refused and got him back into the city where you went out and bought him some actual dinner than went to about 52,346 yen. ($325 American dollars)

Chuuya Nakahara

• You got to know eachother through Kouyou when she'd invite you two over for tea and talk.

• You'd also hangout durring joint-missions with yours and his division since you two worked well together.

• He and Dazai were always together so there were you as well. (The reason will be told soon lmao)

• After work, he'd usually just invite you to go drink with him even if you two weren't legal yet to drink.

• Sometimes he'd let you stay over if you got too drunk.

• Sometimes you'd drunk hook-up but never went further and just acted like it didn't happen and told no one.

Akutugawa Ryuunoske

• Something produced into a friendship through Gin.

• You and Gin were close friends so Ryuunoske was also always around when you and her would go out.

• Other than that he thought you made good fig tea so he'd just appear at your house in the middle of the night and demand for you to make tea.

• If you didn't, he'd stay on your couch till you did, even if he had meetings or missions, he'd just want your tea.

• When you did make the tea, he'd just listen to you silently as you ramble of how he shouldn't just pop up in the middle of the night with no invite or anything else you'd talk about.

• Btw this happens still

Ranpo Edogawa

• He'd pop up randomly sort of like Akutugawa asking you for more of your muffins.

• You two would usually just eat sweets together while he talks about how great of a detective he is and about his recent cases

• You two would also work together in Poe's books sometimes as Ranpo called it "a better challenge."

• He'd also start refusing going alone into the books without you there

• Even once he'd wait a month while you were overseas in America (🦅🇺🇸🍻) to come back and do the book with him.

Kunikida Doppo

• In high-school years, you'd two would hangout when he got detention in his delinquent phase and you'd watch over since you were in student council.

• You also tutored him so you'd stay over sometimes at his house or he'd stay over for dinner at yours.

• He also would sometimes convince you to go to some parties but you'd always watch over him and not drink

• Now, when he's working at the agency, he's completely different.

• You two would eat together during your breaks

• Or while out on missions with Dazai tagging along for the "fun of it."

Edgar Allen Poe

• this boy......

• He'd invite you over sometimes to look over his book even though it was litterally perfect with no mistakes

• like he didn't even need you there he could just publish it right then and there with just one chapter with how good it was.

• I feel like you'd sometimes fall asleep on his couch in his office for some reason and Karl would just sit with you

• Other than that, you two would go out and read together before getting some coffee (or tea if that's your cup)

Fukuzawa Yukichi

• Him, Fukichi, and you when you were younger would go out in the parks and sort of just be kids

• Sometimes you three would just duel, you still in your prestigious school uniform, while beating them up 💀

• When you both got older and crusty, you'd drink tea together

• Since you own a bakey, (reference to *1*) you'd teach him how to bake or he'd just help you while making your sale for tommorow.

• He'd also just take you out on walks, sometimes going back to old spots you'd go to when you were younger

Sigma

• Since it's said that Sigma likes cooking/baking, yall would do that together

• You two would also just watch Nikolai and Fyodor be gay together and talk shit about them two together

• I feel like he'd enjoy playing card games with eachother.

• For some reason I think he hates uno because of how stressed he gets over it and games are supposed to be his stress reliever

• Other than that, if you want to help with his paperwork just do that and talk with him. He thinks your voice is calming.

Nikolai Gogol

• Randomly in the middle of your shift he'd pop up yelling: "(NAME) ITS QUIZ TIME!!!"

• For some reason when your around him you feel as if your high.

• When your resting in your room in the Casino you wake from him screaming on the top of his lungs because he thought you were dead.

• Somehow he'd get in without a key.

• He'd than get really excited and forcefully put you to where he was piggy-back-riding on top of him and he'd run around the casino to annoy Sigma.

• You learned after a few times that no matter how loud you yelled at him or tried to get off that it would motivate him even more

• What you didn't know, is that he was in your walls. Litterally.

• He learned all about you without speaking to you and asked Fedya to get you into their "business."

Fyodor Dostevesky

• Your brother told you that he was a God or whatever and you didn't know what to do so you sort of just followed anything Fyodor said.

• You didn't believe he was a God but you were just bored lol

• He didn't know this though and liked you being around him so he kinda just kept you in his office saying that he'd talk to you about plans later.

• Then he'd keep you there and when it was time for him to leave his lil spot he'd tell you to come back tomorrow and the cycle would repeat

• From these times you two would sort of just talk about life and what you liked, him just going off on about his godly stuff while you just listened in silence.

Tetchou Suericho

• Fukichi would kinda just keep you around the base because you kept Tureko occupied and out of trouble. Don't worry, he paid you.

• You'd see Tetchou quite often due to this and would sometimes cook with him, adapting to his strange food habits

• During off times, he'd ask for you to come over and cook for him because your food with the way he usually eat was a lot better than other people's cooking to him. (Somehow)

• You sort of just stayed there at his house during off time and then during work times, you'd make food with Tureko and change it to the way Tetchou likes it.

Juono Saigiku

• You and him would do torture to criminals together, learning different methods from eachother.

• After, you two would usually go to a coffee shop together (or tea if that's your cup)

• You two sort of just sat in silence until making conversations about random things; him usually complaining about Tetchou and his food.

• Other than that, you two would work on missions sometimes.

lmao im popping these things out rn i might do another

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itsasainz · 1 year

Text

passionfruit | pierre gasly x reader

Summary: You’re pulling away, so is he. Neither of you can blame the other, it’s just the natural progression of things.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings/tags: anxiety, breakdown of a relationship, angst, minor implications of some mental health difficulties

a/n: never written for pierre, but here I am writing all this in a few hours. I don't know where this came from lmao. requests open <3

masterlist!

Listen

Seein’ you got ritualistic

Cleansin’ my soul of addiction for now

‘Cause I’m fallin’ apart, yeah

He can pinpoint the moment you realised you’d reached a stagnant point in your relationship with him to the minute; it had been early December — he had spent the fortnight after Abu Dhabi sorting everything out with Alpine, having wrapped things up with AlphaTauri within days of the last race. You’d flown back to London on the Tuesday after the race, leaving him in the Middle East with his new team — you still had a job, you’d reminded him, and that he’d see you in two weeks when he came to London to see you. It would be your third Christmas together, and you were spending it in France with him. Three weeks together, the longest you’d have spent together consecutively in months. He remembers the realisation in your voice, the two of you stood in a cramped South London flat you hated; still refusing to move to Milan.

“Pierre, we’ve had this planned for weeks.” you had said — there was no malice in your tone, a surprising lack of your usual heat. He remembers it striking him more deeply than he’d anticipated — the disappointment, and the overwhelming loneliness in your voice.

“Mon ange, there’s nothing I can do. It’s a team thing, I can’t start missing them before I’m even a proper member of the team.”

Your eyes never left his, a sense of judgement in the furrow of your brow. “Is Esteban going?”

He opened his mouth to say something, then a flicker of doubt arose. He’d thought he wasn’t, but now he thinks about it, the Frenchman had been discussing it with Elena only days ago. “I think so.”

“Then they’ve got one driver, they don’t need two. You’re double booked, and we’ve had this planned for weeks.”

He’d sighed — you understood exactly why he couldn’t just cancel, and he now understands that you wanted him to confirm to you that you were also a priority, and that he wasn’t only focused on work. He remembers the way you’d looked away from him, tears threatening to spill; it had felt disproportionate in the moment — crying because he couldn’t make it to dinner with your friends who he barely knew was dramatic. Now, he regrets his dismissal.

You’re asleep beside him, turned away, as curled up as you can be in a plane seat. He’d been surprised when you’d told him you were still coming to Bahrain, and then embarrassed that he’d assumed you wouldn’t come; did he really think that poorly of your relationship?

He’d realised, in his travels through January and February, his days away from you, that he can only really breathe when he’s with you; now though, you seem further away, like he’s never quite with you, even when he’s sitting inches away from you. He wonders if the closest you get these days is during sex, and hates the idea that nearly three years of your relationship might have come down to sex being the most emotional you can be with him. When was the last time you told him about your work anxieties or, for that matter, any of your actual emotions, deeper than a dismissive comment about being stressed or simply fine.

Appearances are maintained at the airport and the hotel, where you smile and kiss his friends on each cheek, laughing and joking with them like you’re not down, like you’re not avoiding his conversation. It persists into the weekend itself — you spend more time with Isa than with him, chatting in hospitality until he’s done, and then seem to immediately shut down, even if he knows you’ve had a good day. You’re brief with your affection until, seemingly suddenly on Friday evening, as he’s skipping through channels on the TV in the hotel room, you wrap yourself around him, ear pressed to his heart, breathing soft and hands cold. He’s puzzled, almost upset by your sudden affection, but he leaves his thoughts at a kiss to your temple. He falls asleep with you on top of him, your shampoo filling his senses.

The next day, after Quali, you apologise for his poor luck. Again, he finds himself blindsided; you’ve never been one to apologise for that which you can’t control. He turns it over in his head all night, once again finding your affection puzzling, and his reaction to it even more confusing, and decides he’s overthinking it. You fall asleep in his arms less often than he’d like, and he’s got to make the most of it.

Sunday has a stranger vibe still. You’re withdrawn, and he can probably count the words you share on his fingers. It’s impossible to know how to deal with it, or what to do or say to fix it. It’s that thought that he gets stuck on in the media pen after the race — what if it can’t be fixed? What if it’s not his responsibility to fix it?

When Charles asks if you’re coming out after the race, Pierre responds for you, given your absence. “No,” he says, “I think she’d rather stay in tonight.”

“Are you staying in?” Charles frowns. It’s admittedly unusual for Pierre to want to come out on nights like these without you at his side.

“Nah, I’m coming.” he assures his friend, leaving you a text to say he won’t be home until late.

Tension

Between us just like picket fences

You got issues that I won’t mention for now

‘Cause we're fallin’ apart

You want to say; points are impressive given where you started. You want to say; I’m proud of you. You want to see him, at the very least, but other than the ten minutes he spared for you after the race, you’ve barely spoken to him. His text is glaring up at you, a cruel joke.

He doesn’t want you here.

It’s the most logical explanation; he nearly jumped when you started cuddling on Friday, and barely any words have been shared. At least if you’re not speaking you’re not arguing. It doesn’t help that you’re down as it is, feeling like your brain has been fried by travelling and anxiety and the overwhelming feeling that you’re at the end of a chapter in your life. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t asked, hasn’t probed to find out more about your current state.

It’s not his responsibility, you keep reminding yourself, he’s your boyfriend, not your parent. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though. The debate has been circling your mind for hours. If he cares so much, why doesn’t he say anything when you’re like this. If you’re as grown as you think you are, why are you so dependent on his care?

There's a nineties RomCom on the TV — you leave it on in the background while you scroll back through your texts with Pierre, wondering when it got like this, when he started to feel so distant. Who started it? Is it possible to say it was either one of you? Is it salvageable?

A thought of breaking up passes through your mind, snagging on unwelcome thoughts. You know that of the two and a half, nearly three, years that Pierre has been your boyfriend, more than two of those years were blissful. But the past months are tainting it — if you were to break up, would your memories of his love be marred by how lacking it feels in these moments?

The thought that snags, catching like cotton on barbed wire, is that perhaps you have wasted the first half of your twenties being in love with a man who cannot love you like you need him to. You think of the nights out you’d vetoed to spend an evening with him, of the opportunities you’d passed on to be around when he was in London, or the things you’d missed by constantly jetting off to Milan or whichever Grand Prix he was headed to. You think of the hours of your life you’ve spent in airports, anxious and tired, uprooting your life to spend 24 hours with him, to cry two nights later when he dropped you off for your flight home. You think of the years of your life you’ve spent caught between where your home was — with him, or with the rest of your life. It wasn’t a fair comparison. It wasn’t fair to resent him for something he had repeatedly provided solutions for.

Nevertheless, it felt clearer now. You didn’t feel settled in his company the way you always had — no, now you felt anxious. Anxious about being enough for him, about how good of a wag you were, or how good you were at being his girlfriend, at doing everything you felt you should.

Passionate from miles away

Passive with the things you say

Passin’ up on my old ways

I can’t blame you, no, no

It’s strange, you realise, that your communication with Pierre suddenly spiked the moment you were apart. How could you feel closer to him from 600 miles away than you did when you were right next to him?

He’d been texting lots, the two of you telling each other about your days again, complaining about rude colleagues or getting excited over the smallest of things. Over the phone, he’d listened while you talked about how you’d been down lately, worried about work and friends and, though you didn’t say it, him. He’s loving, and you return it in earnest. You miss him more than you care to admit, and for a few seconds at a time, you get the sense he misses you too. There’s no bickering, not a cruel word said.

You’re doing most of the talking, that much is also true. He listens, which feels like an achievement, but you still catch yourself wondering if he’s absorbing what you’re telling him, or if he still thinks about you when you’re not on the phone or texting. You don’t tell him you’ve been crying more than usual, or that your anxiety is through the roof, nor do you tell him that whenever you try to find the source of your anxiety, your mind finds to him like a compass finds north. You don’t tell him that you’re biting your nails again, or that you keep making mistakes at work.

Midweek, you’re in your kitchen, cutting a passionfruit in half on FaceTime. The pulp has covered your fingers, and you sit with a bowl under your hands, a spoon scooping the seeds out of the rind. For a minute he’s distracted by the fact that he’d forgotten your love for the fruit, and then wonders if they’re in season. He watches you eat a little, and continues what he was saying. He’s talking about the Saudi Grand Prix, about the logistics and some issues with his flight. A few weeks ago he’d mentioned that he wanted you to be there, but he’s avoiding talking about guests now, or Paddock Passes.

“Pierre,” you say, a deep breath.

“Yeah, love?”

“Do you want me there?”

There’s a long pause, stretching out before you. Does he want you?

“Do you want to be there?” he asks in return.

It’s like a kick to the gut. You don’t have it in you to answer, only a fear that if you open your mouth it’ll all spew out — the resentment, the fear, the anger you suddenly feel. You want to be there for him, and it feels like he’s just told you you’re no longer an important factor in his well being — no longer a person who makes him feel remotely good. What’s worse is that you think that, if that is true, it’s entirely justified. You’ve not been the easiest to be around lately, nor the most easily placated. He hangs up not long after, and you wish he couldn’t make you cry quite so easily.

Passionate from miles away

Passive with the things you say

Passin’ up on my old ways

I can’t blame you, no, no

It seems to Pierre that you are present in every spare second he has. Walking between meetings, pausing during training to take a drink — you’re there, in his mind, a constant reminder that he can’t breathe. Bahrain fucked with his head — suddenly, not even your presence eased his mind. You’ve always been easy to be around, aware of the dynamics and moods around you, always knowing what to say or what to do. You weren’t like that in Bahrain, you were quiet and withdrawn and a hundred miles away. The thought that circulates his head comes back stronger every time he thinks of you, misses you — is it him? Is he the issue?

That night in your flat, back in December, has been turned over in his head so many times he’s sure his retrospection has completely distorted the night, that his memory of it is more of a manifestation of all the possible ways he could have fucked up than a true representation of what happened. He’s trying to find time for you, responding to your texts the moment he has a free minute, FaceTiming you on his free evenings. He’s going to Enfield for a few days before he’s off to Jeddah, and the idea of getting to spend a few days with you is exciting, and yet somehow he’s dreading it.

He’s not sure how he’s gotten to this point, especially when he cares so deeply for you; his dread seems to root from the fear that he’s worse for you than he is good, and that is too scary a thought to address. He wants the best for you, he always has, and for years he thought he was that — something right, and something that made you feel better, happier, the way a loved one should. Now he's less sure that that’s true — he’s scared he’s draining, and the thought is pulling him away from you. What’s worse is the fact he knows, intuitively, that your feelings are mirroring his. How do you break out of this? How do you get back to a place where you are both confident in your love for one another, and assured in the fact that you are loved?

And then on Wednesday he’s watching you cut that passionfruit and he’s saying more than he has all week, getting the drama about travelling to Jeddah off his chest, scared to bring up the possibility of you coming with him in case you shut him down, and he has to go knowing you actively avoided coming. That’s when you drop the question, right as he’s stumbling over how not to get rejected if he asks you to come. He doesn’t want a repeat of the awkward silence that plagued you in Sakhir.

“Do you want me to be there?”

He doesn’t know what to say. Yes, God, he wants nothing more, but if you’re going to be quiet and cold like you were in Sakhir, he’d rather go without the stress of doubting himself and your relationship. He finds it strange that you’d ask — he would have you by his side every weekend if you’d let him, and he is certain you know that. In his head, the only explanation for your question is that you’re asking for a reason not to go. If you don’t want to be there he won’t ask you to be.

He doesn’t get a response when he turns the question back on you, and the seeds of doubt have been planted. His security about where he stands with you has crumbled, its already worn foundations collapsing under him. He is nearly winded by the panic of losing you. By the time he’s understood how he feels and what he wants to say, you’re hanging up, wishing him a good night. He curses himself for his indecision, and prays you’ll text him to say you do want to come to Jeddah.

Listen

Harder buildin’ trust from a distance

I think we should rule out commitment for now

‘Cause we’re fallin’ apart

It’s cemented in his mind that he has to end things by the time he’s landed in London, your text waiting to say that you can’t wait to see him. It’s for the best, he thinks, that he doesn’t drag this on for longer than need be — you’re clearly miserable in this relationship, and it is the right thing, the good thing, to do. You won’t end it yourself, he knows you well enough to know that; he knows you have a thing about not giving up, it’s a trait he understands better than you’re aware of — he can respect nothing if not your commitment. But he doesn’t truly believe that commitment of this kind, where he keeps making you cry, where neither of you can see a way of fixing it, is the kind you should cling to. It’s one thing to be committed, it’s another thing entirely to refuse to see that you are clinging to something that is long gone. He loves you, and he is more than aware that you love him, but he cannot justify the static, drawn out suffering of your relationship’s breakdown. He thinks you’ve probably already broken things off mentally, that your final probes have been about confirming that it’s the right thing to do — he’s done little to help his case.

He stands in the stairwell of your flats for longer than he should. He’s motionless in the landing between two floors, suitcase beside him, suddenly wondering if he should just get it over with. He can’t though, he’s not ready, and it’s not fair on you if he’ll be around for the next few days. He’ll do it on the last day, so you don’t have to look at him for too long.

He’s never been less sure of himself. That’s why he’s doing this — if he should be sure of anything, it should be his relationship.

When the doubt persists for the rest of his three days in London, he is assured that neither of you are in the place for a relationship. It feels strange thinking that knowing that you’ve spent nearly three years together, but he guesses you’ve grown apart. Grown apart or fallen apart, he’s not sure there’s much of a difference when it comes to you two.

On Wednesday morning, eating breakfast in your kitchen before he gets ready to go to the airport, he braces himself. He’d meant to do it last night, but you’d gone out for dinner together and he was too distracted by self doubt to do what he meant to.

“Y/N,” he starts. You watch him squirm, trying to find the words, and he suddenly realises you look expectant, like you know where this is going. “Do you actually want to be with me? Because I just have this feeling that you’ve been preparing yourself to break up with me for weeks.”

With the way your silence fills the air, he’s suddenly wondering if this is how you felt on FaceTime the week before. Your silence is the worst kind of murder.

“You want to break up?” you ask, never one to beat around the bush when you don’t want to. You’re more concise than he is, better at putting yours and everyone else’s thoughts into reality.

“No, but I don’t get the sense that either of us are particularly happy.” he admits. For the first time he wonders if the honesty he can exhibit around you is due to your own honesty, and not because he’s simply more comfortable in your presence; he is anything but comfortable now. Your bluntness is salt in the wound.

“So what, you’re leaving?” you ask. “You think that leaving is going to fix us?”

He shakes his head, “I think leaving is better than trying to fix a relationship that is dead in the water.”

You frown. “Dead in the water?”

He hates the way you repeat his words back to him. “It’s the better thing. I don’t like it, trust me, I don’t. But I can’t keep making you cry, and I can’t ask you to move to Milan again.”

For a second there’s a glimmer in your eyes and he thinks you’re about to tell him you’ll move to Italy. He wouldn’t let you, not matter how much it hurt.

“Don’t tell me what the better thing is.” you practically spit.

“Y/N…” he says, watching you stand up.

“I love you.” you tell him. “I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you.” he says. “That doesn’t make us right.”

You’re crying. He’s simultaneously horrifyingly guilty and utterly assured that he’s doing the right thing. “Get out of my house.”

Leavin’

You’re just doing that to get even

Don’t pick up the pieces, just leave it for now

They keep fallin’ apart

Your jaw is tight as you watch him put his coat on. He stops at the door. “Y/N,”

“Stop looking at me like that.” you say, a newfound venom in your voice. You open the door for him, showing him out. He starts down the stairs and you find yourself calling out to him.

“Pierre, leaving is the coward’s way out.” you say. You’re angry, beyond angry, but the feeling in your chest is the same kind you get at a funeral, the heaviness of knowing that the inevitable has happened and it’s painful no matter how much you knew to expect it. He only nods, leaving you barefoot in the hall.

Back inside, you book a flight to Milan. It’s surprising how quickly you’d accepted the end of the relationship — perhaps there was some merit in his idea that you’d already broken the connection in your mind. You’re tapping your bank card on the kitchen counter, looking at the notice on your laptop confirming the purchase, and you’re completely and utterly done with him. His silences, and how the only times you ever seemed to talk lately ended in tears.

It’s easy to blame him, you acknowledge, easy to say he’s the issue. You’re not blameless.

Milan is the same constant hub of business it has always been, but its culture gets to you a little more than usual. It seems like every café and every restaurant is one Pierre had showed you, and you’re all the more determined to get the hell out of the city; you only have one stop, his.

It’s the easiest time to do it — you can get all your belongings from his flat and go straight home, not even a day away from home. The walk from the station to his flat is a familiar one, one you’ve walked a thousand times. Without Pierre, it’s easier — you don’t have to stop every five minutes for selfies with a fan, but somehow that gets to you. Perhaps it’s the young-ish fan, a teenager, who looks at you with the curiosity of someone who knows exactly who you are and doesn’t understand why you’re here. She frowns slightly, points you out to her friend, who gasps. As you pass, you hear one of them say; She doesn’t live in Milan though. Why’s she here without him?

When you get to his flat and let yourself in, you allow yourself to check your phone. He’s left a text. I can still see your location, you know. Why are you in Milan? You ignore it, opening up your empty suitcase and starting to make your way around the flat; room by room, you extract your things from his. Meanwhile, your notifications are going into overdrive. These are hardly his first texts — he’d texted and called you from Heathrow telling you he regretted it, and he needed to talk to you the moment he got back from the race — but you’re determined now. If he thought you were so bad for each other, you’d make sure to be gone by the time he got back.

I know you’re getting your things. Please, wait until we can talk about this.

Can I call you?

Mon ange, please answer

I need to talk to you

I fucked up

I love you. I’m in love with you.

Eventually, you cave. You’re sitting in front of your packed suitcase, your key to the flat on his kitchen counter.

“Love?” he answers. It must be late where he is, but that’s the least of your concerns.

“Pierre.”

“I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want you to leave me.” He says, “You’re right, it’s the coward’s way out. We should try, at the very least.”

“Don’t you see, Pierre, I have. I have tried more than ever these past weeks, and, d’you know, when you said what you did I finally understood something. I don’t have the capacity to try any harder — I don’t have the capacity to love you in the way I think you need me to. I don't think you love me the way I need you to either. You were right — more than I’ll ever care to admit — but we can’t drag ourselves through this. Let’s not torture ourselves.”

There’s another long silence. Silences seem to be half the communication between you these days. “I can fix this. I can pick up the pieces, I know it.”

“Pierre, I don’t want you to. Stop trying to pick up the pieces, stop trying to fix us. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is, and I refuse to get in your way. Let’s leave it as it is, and not ruin the memory of us anymore than we already have.”

“I love you.”

“I know, Pierre. I’m sorry we couldn’t love each other right.”

“It’s my fault.”

“Ours. It’s our fault.”

I can’t blame you, no, no

#pg10 #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #formula 1 #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #Spotify

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gimmethosedaddymilkers · 1 year

Text

Starving in The Dark

Okay another mini thing while I'm struggling to do the other responses rn, these ones I do while im laying down to go to bed lmao, but your requests will get done I promise!

Anyway! This is based on the thing I posted earlier today 😈 if you know you know.

Its very 18+ so minors DNI

WARNINGS!: NSFW, arthur literally devouring you, in general sexy things, chubby reader because I said so and theres not enough chubny reader and chubby arthur in this world

TAGS:@mrsarthurmorgan7 @photo1030 @kieropal @cantchoosejust1 @6kaja9

So lets get started!!!

You feel as though you're gonna loose a finger to the cold around you, even being bigger and retaining heat better than smaller people would, you felt frozen to the core.

After the gang had left the Amberino mountains on your run from the law you didn't figure you'd be back up here so soon, but here you were, shivering and shaking on your horse, even in your heavy coat, as you and Arthur trek through the snow the further you got into the mountains.

Granted the snow that you traveled through now was no where near as bad as it had been the first time the gang had come through here, but it still seemed to sink right into your bones, you could only imagine how cold your horses were.

But you refused to complain. Arthur had told you he wanted to take you somewhere out of camp, far away, just the two of you, so you could finally spend sometime together without being harassed by the others or being pulled apart to do other jobs.

Granted you would have appreciated it if he'd taken you somewhere warmer, but you weren't about to start whining when he was trying to do something sweet and thoughtful for you. It wasn't often the two of you got to sneak away like this.

"We're almost there Darlin' I swear, then I'll get the fire goin' and that cabin'll warm up quick."

Arthur looks over his shoulder at you, his face reflecting a mixture of guilt and apology.

He'd clearly recogonized your freezing state.

"I'm okay!" You lie through your teeth offering a smile, you hate seeing the big guy look so sad. "Just cold!"

"I know, I shoulda just had you ride in the same horse with me, woulda been warmer for ya." He sighs and then nudges his horses sides. "C'mon, pick up the pace, let's get there."

The two of you ride for just a little longer, snowflakes sticking to your eyelashes the further you go, until eventually the two of you come over a hill to see a rather small cabin on what would be a beautiful lake, had it not been frozen over.

You're quick to hitch the horses in a nearby area where they're slightly sheltered, and make your way into the cabin.

It's a little run down, but upon looking at it you realize someone's clearly cleaned it up, and as you look back at Arthur you realize he really has been planning this for a while. The bed is made and the floor's been decently cleaned, a stack of wood decently high is sat against one of the walls and the cuboards are stocked with food.

Arthur moves and closes the door behind him the moment the two of you step over the threshold, he gently kisses the side of your head before beginning to start a fire up for you.

You can't help but watch him as he works, crossing your arms in an attempt to retain your heat.

Even in the cold he keeps his demenor, which around you is a little softer, kinder.

There's a small smile on his face as he does his work and the cold air has caused his cheeks to bloom red.

"You look so cute in the snow." You mumble, taking note of his denim clad jacket, the collar lined with fur. It covers his cheeks a little, but not enough to cover the fact that his face gets slightly redder at your compliment.

"Now, I don't even believe you when you call me handsome," he chuckles and continues to throw wood into the stove settled in the center of the small cabin. "What makes you think I'll believe you when you say that?"

"Who says I need you to believe it grumpy?"

He simply offers another small chuckle to you before he starts to attempt to light the fire. Luckily it doesn't take long.

The fire blazes and you find yourself crowding in the front of the stove as soon as Arthur shuts the front of it and opens the vents to allow heat into the room.

He stands behind you, his hands gently grasping your shoulders and his chin resting on rhe crown of your head.

"Sorry it was such a long ride Darlin' and a cold one too." He mumbles under his breath, letting out a long sigh that you feel reverberate through your body.

"It's okay Arthur, really." You smile this time, to yourself, he needed this break more than you did, you were just happy he wanted to take it with you. You'd follow him anywhere he wanted to go, and this included anywhere.

"Hmm." He gives the hum in response and then another sigh before he lets go of you to move towards the bed placed against the wall across frkm where you stand.

You watch as he plops down and begins to take his boots off and his coat soon follows.

He himself is a big man, and even he seemed a little cold, that redness of his face, and the small chatter in his teeth that occasionally appeared, it was no surpise you were so cold.

"I know it's cold," he mutters. "But you should get that heavier stuff off and get under the covers body heat'll be better for the two of us then these cold jackets."

You offer a nod, and then move to meet him, taking your coat off as you move.

It was gonna be a cold night.

.............

You wake up sweating, with the smallness of the cabin and the constant wood going into the stove to keep it that way, plus Arthur's body heat, you felt as though you were absolutely swimming.

The two of you together, both bigger bodies, the heat you both gave off, it was a wonder he wasn't sweating his ass off too.

It's completely dark in the cabin, other than a little bit of fire light from the stove.

You manage to get up out of the bed without waking Arthur, sliding out of his iron grip as quietly and as gently as possible.

You do the only thing you can think of to get to a comfortable temperature and strip out of your night clothes.

Tossing them to the side you feel much better, still warm, but without the extra cotton its a much more comfortable warmth.

You give a quiet sigh and clamber back into bed, getting back under Arthur's arm as quietly as possible.

"Y' good?" His words are slurred agains your neck as you settle back down, and after a moment his hand finds your waist and he seems to wake a little.

"The hell did your clothes go?"

"It's hot in here Arthur-" you hear the whine in your voice and feel awful for a moment, but you realize now laying back under the cover with arthur again that you'll most likely wake up covered in sweat once more.

Arthur's silent for a moment, but then you feel his hand travel over your stomach, going a little lower, reaching your thighs.

He's clearly not thinking about the words you just said.

"Arthur you are not listening-"

"Kinda stopped after I realized your tits were out if 'm honest." He sighs and you feel a hot kiss against your neck. "What I wouldn't give to feel these around my head...."

He squeezes your thigh gently, his fingers crawling towards your inner thigh.

"I'm already warm..." it's a feeble excuse, and you know it, yiu absolutely love it when he gets like this, so despite your discomfort you know that you're more than likely going to go along with him.

"Maybe if you got out from under these covers ...let those pretty tits of yours hit the air..."

"What the hell are you suggesting?"

"Mhmmm...." Arthur's voice comes out as a groan in your ear, and he places a small kiss there, right behind your ear.

"I'm sayin'," he mumbles. "I think you should sit on my face..."

"Arthur!"

You've never done such a thing. Of course you've had him between your legs before, and you'd never deny him that, as he got pleasure out of it just as you did, in fact it was one of his favorite things, but NEVER had you ever sat on his face.

"I'm too big." You mutter. "Too heavy, I sit on your face and I'll sufficate you-"

"Good, a fine way to die." He kisses your neck again.

"Arthur I'm serious!"

"I am too."

You sigh and he simply gets closer to your ear.

"Please Y/n...Please, I want you to do it so badly....please."

He's begging you. How could you tell him no.

"Okay..." You mumble the answer after a few moments of silence. "But you have to promise to stop me if you can't breathe, please?"

"Of course, you're My Girl."

You feel a heat in your cheeks and move, watching as he moves to lay on his back.

He keeps his hands to the sides, lazily awaiting you to sit on your throne.

He motions you towards him with his two middle fingers on each hand.

With just that you're compelled.

You manage to manuver yourself to the right place, and you begin to squat over his face, hovering if you will, and you feel Arthur's hands latch onto your thick thighs.

"I said sit." His voice comes out in a growl and then with a tight squeeze and a single rough pull on his end you find yourself completely sat on Arthur's face.

You can't move, he hold's you tightly against his face, buried in your pussy.

His hands massage your thighs, and you can feel his tongue moving in the best way you can think of.

It sends tingles through your body, the way he seems to nearly devour you, as though he'd never had a meal in his life.

His mouth is warm, and wet as he licks, and licks, and each flick of his tongue that seems expert you can't stop yourself from letting out lewd sounds that make you grateful he's taken you all the way into the mountains.

You reach between your thighs, gripping his hair tightly as he has his snack.

"Arthur...." You doubt he can even hear you from his position, but you hope that he gets the message when you begin to move your hips, riding his face.

His hands move from your thighs to your ass, and he helps guide each thrust of your hips.

You take a moment to look down, meeting his eyes between your thighs.

He's got a look there that you've seen many times, full and utter lust.

You can feel his nost brushing against sensitve areas of your heat, and his tongue still works away at you, lapping like a thirsty animal.

One of his hands moves from your ass, wrapping over your thigh and reaching between your legs, finding your clit easily, as it's nearly second nature for him.

Your breathing is ragged as he continues his assult of pleasure on you.

You know it isn't gonna take much longer for you to come undone, and your grip in his hair gets tighter, he can tell it won't be much longer.

The faster his tongue gets the faster his hand goes, he matches the circular motion just right with everything else until-

"Arthur!"

You feel yourself clench up and your thighs close instinctually against Arthur's head, and he continues to lick, doing his best to help ride out your orgasam.

When you're able to regain your composure he offers a few taps on your thigh and you manage to move off of him, catching the glint of your arousal on his face from the small firelight.

"Next time, when I say sit on my face I mean sit." He swallows and you watch as he licks his lips before placing his hands behind his head. "I want you to smother me."

You simply blink at him, your heart still racing from your high.

He'd just eaten you as though you were his last meal and that's all he could say.

You blink and then look towards his waist.

You had some giving to do.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 community #red dead redemption 2 #milk delivery #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2

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agoodfictitle-shadowban · 8 months

Text

From Vormir, With Love - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Tags: strangers to lovers, love in space angst on earth, slavery mention, alien abduction, post Endgame, will add as we go on

Summary: As you're being chased you crash on Vormir. So far, so bad. But things take a turn when you come face to face with a marooned Black Widow.

Word count: 2.9k

A/n: i don't remember which gifs i used already fkdoslzkz anyway, enjoy guys lmao

You awake in a silent room, everyone sleeping. Or almost. It's scary how quickly you notice Natasha's absence in the bunks or on the ground within the improvised beds. With a low groan, you sit up and look around to find her. And you do, she's sitting at the helm, one leg against her torso that she holds with her connected hands, her eyes fixated on the space advancing at speed around her. The colorful tapestry reflects against her like water navigating her skin, and you realize you could look at her forever. This too scares you. So you decide to face your fears head on and stand up to go talk to her.

"I'd prefer if you didn't put your boots on the seats," you whisper as to not awake anyone else. She looks up at you with those blue eyes and you feel your heart skip a beat. She offers a mischievous smile to you, before she puts her leg down.

"Stick in the mud."

"Better than mud on this… I want to say leather, but I have no idea if I'm honest." Her throaty laugh makes you smile and you hide it by looking at the console. You were doing good time, all things considered.

"I'll keep that in mind for the future."

Her teasing makes you escalate the situation. You refuse to back down now that you set up that boundary.

"You better remember."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll have to come for you," you threaten, leaning closer to her before you think better of it. There is a tension there, but you can't quite put your finger on it until she leans up, her eyes searching yours.

"We wouldn't want that," she says in… is that a flirty tone? No. No way. You were imagining things.

Things like a future after you're back on Earth, a very unlikely one, where she comes to visit you, or you go back in space together. Maybe you could be friends, or maybe… you stop your gay brain.

Yes, Natasha Romanoff is a very attractive woman, but one who would never be interested in you. And she is an Avenger, an incredible human being, a hero - no matter if they never came to save you right now. It's crazy how much you already want more from her despite barely knowing her, which is why you decide to simply shelve these budding attractions that you can't call feelings yet. It's better that way.

You just need to get further away from her face. And you did. Very slowly.

"I'm glad we agree," you say, your throat suddenly very dry.

You hear a beep coming from the side and take a look at the controls. Apparently you just made it to the Universal Neural Teleportation Network. You look at the empty space before you, and give a look to Natasha.

"We need to wake up everyone to secure them for the jump." You stand up and start to shake a few of your passengers awake, ordering them around with Natasha. When everyone is secure, you sit back at your seat and send the signal to open the door to the network and go through. You feel the sudden speed pull at your inside uncomfortably and before you know it you're far from Vormir.

A few hours go by before you are able to see the outpost orbiting a gaseous planet. You slowly approach until you receive a transmission.

"Outpost Theta-3, decline your identity."

The voice sounds frantic, and you quickly notice you were far from the only ship approaching the outpost. Probably an after effect of half the galaxy appearing back suddenly.

"We're mercenaries, in need of a place to board."

"Alright. Bay E-12 starboard."

"Thank you."

You fly and park next to the platform you were given access to, quickly feeling the gravity dampener relaying your ship's thrusters. It was bumpy with all the ships coming and going right next to you, but it was still a success. You let out a sigh of relief, glad to be able to get out of the ship. After staying in for so long, you're starting to feel cooped up. Still, you let everyone know they can leave safely, and wait for the cleaning crew to go first. When you leave your seat and look behind you, Natasha and June are still there, waiting for you to get out of the cockpit. There are no words exchanged, and no need for them, but you're thankful they waited for you. You join them towards the open door and before the three of you come out, you hand Natasha a small chip.

"Universal translator. So far we all had one, but we might come across people who don't so…"

"Alright," she nods. "Can you…?"

"Ah, yes, let me…" you come closer to her and gently move her hair out of the way, your fingertips caressing her skin so you can attach the chip right behind her ear. She let out a breath, now noticing she held it in at your proximity.

You offer her a shy smile before turning back to the door and going through it, only to see your new friends were under the threat of weapons. Some of them are pointed your way once you go through the door. You quickly put your hands up and someone comes to you to get your weapons, including those Natasha have.

"You're under arrest for being a part of the Grafd Syndicate. Charges include theft, attack against the Nova Empire, slavery, and numerous other crimes," one of them say as he steps forward.

"I'm so glad I can understand them," she seethe with a look your way. Did she think you…? No, she has to know.

"Wow. Wait, no. We're not– we stole the ship, remember. We stole it to escape them," you address the man in front of you, as much as Natasha. You can't see if she believes you or not, too worried by the scan they submit you to. It isn't the first time something like that happens, but every time it puts you on edge.

The man who scans you reports the results to his superior, who examines them for a minute. Tension feels your back, and you want to flee but you know better. They'd shot you down in an instant. Luckily it doesn't come to that. With a gesture everyone brings their weapons down. You take a deep breath, relief washing over you.

"We understand your situation, we will keep you among the other refugees until we know where to send you." The man starts to leave and you take a step further.

"That usually doesn't go so well," you whisper to yourself before you decide to plead more of your case. "Wait, actually we need you to contact someone and we can be out of your hair in no time."

He considers your words carefully.

"Lieutenant Krio, please see to them," he says without answering you directly. The Lieutenant in question, an alien with green skin but otherwise an humanoïd appearance, nods before she takes a step towards you.

"Please follow me, any of your needs will be covered once you get settled. Including your requests," she adds when she sees you're about to interrupt again. You abdicate for now and agree to simply follow her. You could almost smell Earth, you just needed to be patient a little bit longer.

After traveling through some hallways, you arrive at their mess hall. It's a long room, with a high ceiling, white walls and no windows but a skylight that gives directly into space, and more room than needed most of the time you imagine. But not today. Today, it's full of people. You guess most of them are past victims of the Snap, judging by how lost most of them look. There were at least a hundred people packed in the room, and your group just added to that number. When your guide finally stops it's to show you a small space delimited only by some holographic tape, with barely enough space for all of you to lay down, some sleeping bags and blankets stocked in a corner.

"Wait, we can just stay in our ship if you don't have the space," you offer upon observing your new quarters.

"Sorry, but we have to follow regulations."

"Regulations say we have to be parked like animals in a room?" You ask, your tone bordering on anger.

"That's how it is. No one likes it but we can't do anything about it. We need to secure your ship and it might take some time with the current influx of people."

You're about to protest some more when a hand grabs yours, and you immediately calm down at the cold coming from it. You give a pout to Natasha at her clear message. Calm down. We won't be there long.

"Okay, okay… can you at least try to contact the person I need you to?"

"Sure, do you have an ID number for them?"

"No, just a name." You turn to Natasha and let her give it, ignoring the annoyance on the face of your interlocutor.

"Carol Danvers, also known as Captain Marvel."

Recognition crosses the face of the Lieutenant and she nods. "We can try to contact her, but don't expect much. She rarely answers."

"Simply tell her it's from Natasha Romanoff."

"We will. Now if you'll excuse me…" she looks at your new quarters, then to your group. "I have more work to do. Someone will bring you food and more sleeping arrangements."

"Thank you," you answer very briefly and walk into your small corner. There was barely any space to move around and once everyone was sitting down, it felt even worse, especially with your bags thrown on the ground.

You discard your empty food tray when a soldier walks the imaginary hallways with a trolley to recover all the discarded dishes. After that, you sit next to June, who is now sleeping directly on the cold hard ground, and face Natasha, talking a few words in hushed tones to her.

"So, how do you know this Captain Marvel?" When you were taken from Earth, she wasn't yet a big name. You briefly wonder if you should have kept this question to yourself when you see the haunted look in her blue-green eyes, but she still answers.

"It was shortly after the Snap. We were still counting our losses. So many people…" you can see her eyes glimmer with unshed tears, and you wonder how many people close to her she lost. You guess a few. You yourself wondered sometimes if upon returning on Earth you would find the empty house of your parents, or if they would be there still.

"Anyone you knew?" You ask before thinking.

"Friends. My sister, too."

Slowly you move next to her and put your hand on her cold one, before you squeeze it gently. She looks so vulnerable, so far from the image you had of Earth's mightiest heroes. You truly hope your warmth can reach her somehow.

"I'm sure she's back like everyone else."

She smiles at you, just from the corner of her lips but it's enough for you. Your eyes meet briefly before she looks down, and you think you can see a bit of red on her cheeks. Somehow it makes your heart skip a bit.

"Yeah, she's probably fine. I just hope she'll be okay until I come home."

"Hey, if we're lucky we won't take 5 years now that we have your friend." Your joke makes her chuckle.

"Anyway… she appeared not long after the Snap, looking for Fury. He was part of the casualties so from then on we started working together," she finishes.

The haunted look made you think that this short explanation left out the weight of the numerous years spent feeling these losses. Her sister, her friends, whoever this Fury guy was. It was a lot when you also had the weight of half the world disappearing on your shoulders too. The grief must have been agonizing.

"That's quite the story. I guess that's all it takes for superheroes to start working together."

She hums, and after a lull in the conversation, she leans against you. It takes you by surprise, your breath catching in your throat. You swallow hard and turn your head to look at her. She's looking back at you with her sea-side eyes, and her face is so close you can feel her breath on your skin.

"I'm not bothering you, am I?" She asks in the same whispery tone you've been using for your conversation, but suddenly it feels so much more intimate. "You're just warm."

"No, it's no problem." Your answer it's a bit louder than you intended, and a small smirk finds its place on Natasha's lips. You blush in embarrassment.

"I'm going to take a nap then. Wake me up if anything happens."

You nod, she closes her eyes, and your throat is the driest it's ever been.

"Wake up," you urgently move Natasha away from you. "I think something is happening."

When she opens her eyes, she takes a deep breath and your scent immediately invades her senses. She'd had the best sleep she had in a while, and awakening is now harder than she expected it would be. But, contrary to her spirit, her body is ready to fight. Instinctively she reaches for her weapon. She still had two full magazines but it won't be enough if they're under attack. Maybe she can nick a weapon, but first, she has to assess the situation. She looks around, seeing everyone is agitated and some of the guards are running in the hallways. The floor is slightly shaking, too, a clear indication of something happening.

"Any idea what's happening?" She asks, crouching instead of simply sitting to get ready to act. You're already doing the same, a knee still on the ground to check on your own weapon and make sure the coils are in good shape.

"Not really. The station has been moving for a few minutes now -" explained the shaking "- but no one told us anything." As you are checking your weapon, Natasha notices your fingers are unsteady. It's the first time she sees something worry you since you met to the point of making you tremble.

"Y/n, are you okay?"

You nod at first, then shake your head, your breath shallow. "I just… What if it's the Grafd? What if we endangered everyone by coming here? When it's just us, it's fine, but there are so many people here!"

Natasha frowns. She's worried about your sudden panic, but also focuses on the fact you mentioned that you are being pursued by some people - the people you escaped from, she guessed now - but why would they still be after you? Yes, you took a ship from them, but it had been five years. It makes Natasha wonder if something else happened that they were so hell-bent in finding you again. She would need to bring the subject again later. For now, she decides to simply comfort you. You seem on the verge of a panic attack.

"Hey, it's probably nothing. See, Lieutenant Krio is here." She gently rubs your back, and you take a deep breath to relax slowly as you listen to the Nova Corps agents.

"Please, everyone calm down. The station moved through an asteroid field, we're in stable space again."

You let out a deep, shaky breath, and Natasha has you sit back down. Gently she pries your weapon from your fingers and puts it down on one of your packs.

"Those guys really scares you, huh?" She asks a rhetorical question. You know it's useless to deny it, no matter the bravado you show more often than not. Usually, there isn't a station full of innocent people around you. Usually.

"I guess. It's just… it happened once. People got caught in the crossfire." You swallow with difficulty. You remember the screams and the fire and the smell of burned corpses. After that you avoided places that were isolated, and you kept as low a profile as possible. You only scavenged in hope of getting out of this whole mess.

Natasha knew the feeling too well. For her, it was Dreykov's daughter, the people of New York during the battle who didn't make it. She knew what dreams haunted her friends too. It was the price of that life after all.

"Does it get better?" You ask when you see in her eyes what you see in yours when you look in the mirror.

"It does. Bit by bit. But never fully." It's hard for her to tell you the truth but she knows it's what you want. You nod. "It helps to have people you can count on." She looks towards the now awake June, and Tim. You barely know the guy but he'd been there for you so far - a bit out of paranoia but still it counts for something. "And to have people to talk with."

She smiles at you and takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. The gesture is firm but she offers you the possibility to take your hand away. You choose to leave it there.

It's a peaceful moment, and a peaceful feeling that she brings to you. But it barely lasts, when a soldier comes to your group. You let go of her hand, almost like a shy highschooler who doesn't want their parents to know about their girlfriend. A blast to the past.

"We got an answer," he says shortly. "Says she'll be here soon."

Natasha straightens her back. "Perfect."

It sounds like you were soon going to be home.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha #fvwl #natasha imagine #idk how to tag

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