#i was going to go meet my friends and then i fainted
Note
If you ever have the time, would you ever feel like taking a request with mithrun x an elf reader who's been taking care of him for a while? I've been thinking that they'd know of each other pre-demon, but weren't well acquainted (different circles, and reader is more introverted (like misril)) at the time until post-demon where they help nurse him to health and mayhaps join the canaries as a healer/support for the group.
If that's too specific, that's fine! You can take liberties.
If youre like "yeah that plain just won't happen with mithrun/hes not like that", that's fine! You don't need to write it if you don't want to
I don't want to force you or anything; it's just something that's been floating in my mind, recently!
Of course my friend! You asked so nicely <3
I think I’ll use she/her pronouns for the reader with this one if that’s cool!
Sooooo I’m assuming Mithrun was one of the Wardens in his squad. I don’t recall if it ever mentioned if he was in the first squad or the second. If it’s the second, then Milsiril might’ve been the Vice-Captain of his specific squad at the time, and Mithrun was her second in command like Pattadol is to him now. Cus u know Pattadol is second in command because she’s nobility, and Mithrun is nobility.. Yadda yadda. Let’s just go with that for simplicity’s sake. And since there’s only two Wardens to a squad, I’ve taken the liberty of making the reader a criminal, but it’s for something stupid like… jaywalking lol. Jaywalking using black magic. Or uh maybe using black magic to heal. Both? Two criminal charges, you rebel you
anywho..
tw suicide, mental illness, self harm, blood
Dungeon Meshi Spoilers ahead!
4500ish words
"Vignettes of a 40 Year Old Desire" - Mithrun x elf/healer female reader
●・○・●・○・●
Getting started was the hardest part.
You took a deep breath, your hands hovering over the wound. The slice in Mithrun’s arm was clean, with no brutal ridges. It would scar, but it would be a straight, neat white line on his skin when it was over. Even Mithrun’s wounds were perfect.
“Are you okay?” He asked. His voice was soft, and it reminded you of warm blankets on winter days. Your eyes flickered up to meet his and he offered a smile.
“Yeah,” you said. You sat beside him with your legs curled up beneath you. He sat with his legs criss-crossed, casual as if his bicep hadn’t just been nearly sliced open by the sword of a living armor. He had to be in pain, it was a deep wound. You’d managed to stop the excessive bleeding, but the paleness of his cheeks betrayed that he was feeling weak.
Still, starting was the hardest part.
You summoned your stores of mana, connecting to the spirits that made up the world. They were all around you, willing to obey, willing to lay upon Mithrun’s wound and graft his skin back together. A soft light glowed from beneath your palm as you ran your fingers around the edges of the wound. You weren’t sure why getting started was difficult for you, perhaps it was the feeling of magic pulsing through your veins that startled you, or the very fact that you had the ability to defy nature in this way. And there was that little bell that rang in the back of your mind, that urge to go further, deeper, darker.
That damn bell and its ringing had gotten your ears clipped.
You pulled back from Mithrun, letting your hands drop into your lap. “Done,” was all you said.
He blinked in surprise, then lifted his arm to inspect the spot where he’d been sliced. There was a faint scar, but it would probably fade if he got some sun. His lips twitched into a frown at the sight, but that expression immediately died, pushed aside and replaced with a smile. Mithrun didn’t need the sun, actually, he carried enough shine in his smiles…. Is what someone stupid would say.
“Thank you,” his voice was soft, polite. He pushed down the sleeve of his canary uniform and rolled his shoulders. Nearby, the rest of the team was setting up camp for the night. They laughed and passed around a wineskin. There was a spot on the ground between two of your peers, saved for Mithrun. Milsiril was a distance away with her back pressed against the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. She had a sewing needle that she meticulously threaded through the body of a ragdoll.
You expected Mithrun to stand up and cross the room to join the others. Yet, he didn’t. He stared at you, two silver eyes filled with curiosity. You returned the look and raised a brow as if to silently ask what he needed.
Finally, Mithrun offered a slightly bashful smile, “You don’t really socialize much, do you? Oh,” he perked up, eyes widening, “I don’t mean that in a bad way, of course. I mean, you’re shy, right? I just don’t know that much about you.”
And that drove him mad.
You were entirely too aware of Mithrun’s true nature. The others were too busy basking in his light, caught up in his orbit, trapped in his web. Even Milsiril deigned to notice. She could’ve if she wanted, she simply didn’t want to— it would be like looking in the sun, and once you got past the blinding light and actually looked, you would already be burnt.
You saw the looks on his face when nobody was looking. You didn’t mean to see them, you didn’t mean to stare, but it had become a habit to watch his reactions. There was a flicker of irritation in his eyes sometimes, the hint of a frown when someone didn’t play his game exactly how he planned. There were moments when his shoulders would tense and his smile would turn tight. There were moments he’d avoid answering questions about himself and turn the subject around on the inquirer to keep his history and feelings and thoughts hidden behind a very sturdy, well-guarded wall.
You were more interested in him than you’d like to admit. You’d drawn several conclusions: Mithrun genuinely enjoyed the company of others, but he couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t help but scowl when they weren’t looking and judge their decisions and look down on everything they said and did. He even did it to you.
Which was precisely why you avoided him for the most part. You didn’t want him to know more about you, to provide more ammunition so he could reload his weapon and fire it straight into your back.
So, all you had to say was, “Yeah, we don’t really talk much.” And you smiled as innocently as you could before standing up and wandering to a corner near Milsiril.
Mithrun’s eyes lingered on your back. He was probably making that face he made when displeased that his charm didn’t work; analytical, a hint of darkness, one could practically see the red-inked assumptions scribbling onto parchment in his head, destined to be filed under a wildly critical and exaggerated category and kept there until the end of time.
You only wished you understood why he was like that.
Mithrun disappeared without warning. The squad had been dispatched to the Central Observation Tower because yet another person had disappeared in the area. Mithrun offered to take his friend’s scouting duty into a dark tunnel because she was afraid of spiders and was convinced that there were millions of them in that specific dark tunnel. Milsiril offered to send you along with him, but at that time you were trying to heal a sprained ankle of another squad member. Mithrun waved a dismissive hand and smiled, “It’s no problem. I’ll be fine on my own, but thanks!”
That was the last you saw of him.
Milsiril had someone slumped on her arm. She held them up, breathing heavily and covered in dirt and blood and dirty blood. You rushed toward the scene. The person had silver hair caked with quickly drying streaks of red. His head lolled. But he was breathing. Thank goodness, he was breathing.
Milsiril gently laid Mithrun on the ground. Immediately, you sat beside him, your hands on his cheeks and forcing open his eyes— eye. Singular. The right one was a mess. There was no time to question that, though. You summoned a light spell and opened his eyelid and black irises greeted you. Weren’t his eyes silver before? It was dim, too. Yet, his chest moved up and down and his heart was still beating. You let go of his face and he closed his eyes again, head lolling to the side as he let out a soft exhale.
“So, this is where he’s been?” You asked Milsiril.
She nodded, “He became the dungeon lord. This place…” she glanced up at the twisted walls and long corridors that led to nowhere. There were monster corpses nearby. So many monsters, strong ones, weird ones with horrific teeth and eyes. “It’s a representation of him. I never knew…”
You knew, sort of. You just didn’t think it would get to this level. You didn’t think he’d fall to the demon. You didn’t think—
There was no time for thinking. You had to get started on healing him. For once, getting started wasn’t so hard, not when your heart raced, not when you were desperate for someone to live.
When Mithrun was conscious again, you offered your hand to help him stand.
He didn’t take it.
Of one thing you were certain: Mithrun of the house of Kerensil had no desire to live.
“You should’ve let me die.”
You perked up at the sound of his voice. It was the first time Mithrun had spoken in perhaps a month, and his vocal cords betrayed that fact. His voice was scratchy with disuse, and it was a struggle for him to speak. As you glanced over your shoulder to look at him, he didn’t bother meeting your eyes. His gaze was on the window near his bed, but he wasn’t looking at anything, not really.
“I should’ve let you die?” You echoed. You could hear the anger in your own voice. Mithrun didn’t care, you knew.
He simply nodded. A lock of silver fell over his bony shoulder. His collarbones were too pronounced. The sight made a fire start in your chest.
“Mithrun?” You asked.
He turned his head to look at you. One eye, as black as an endless pit, landed on your face. The other was covered by bandages.
And he waited. He didn’t actually care about what you had to say, you knew. But you had to say it.
“Don’t ever say those words to me again.”
Mithrun only stared, “Alright.”
Then he returned his attention to the window that he was not looking out of.
You don’t know when or why you started to care so much.
You’d always cared about people. You’d always wanted to help. But you didn’t even really like Mithrun before the dungeon incident. Now, his recovery was all you could focus on. And you were absolutely obsessed with the state of things.
“I don’t know what to do,” his brother whispered, desperate, “I’ve hired so many caretakers but they just don’t do anything for him. I mean, they do things, but he’s not getting any better.”
Someone had to break the news to him. “I don’t think anything we do is going to make him any better.”
“I want him to be better,” his brother furrowed his brows and took a deep breath.
You wanted the same. But for now, all you could do was keep Mithrun alive. As long as he ate and slept and breathed, that was good enough for now. That was all he could manage.
You visited the Kerensil family home more often these days. You weren’t sure why, but you cared. When he screamed at night and scratched himself to the point of bleeding, you healed him without a word. When he got ahold of a kitchen knife and put it to his throat, you wrestled it away from him, then helped his brother install locks on all the cabinets and drawers. When Mithrun snuck out at night to go slaughter every goat within a 50 mile radius, you cleaned the blood from his hair and hands.
You’d basically moved in. The captain had given you permission to dedicate time to Mithrun’s healing, since they would’ve liked to have him join again once he was better. To the other Canaries, this was part of your sentence. To you, this was part of your purpose.
You and Mithrun talked a lot. You talked the most. He stayed quiet, so you weren’t sure if you could consider it as actually holding a conversation. You weren’t sure if he was even listening. But once, when you were softly explaining the importance of getting rune shapes exactly right, you stopped and stared at your hands. You’d begun to enter dark territory, the study of black magic that had brought you to this place in life.
The silence stretched on for a minute or two before Mithrun tilted his head. His hair was splayed out on his pillow and his good eye was open, blinking, slightly alert.
“Continue,” he said.
So you continued. And he stared at the ceiling. And you knew that he was listening. He didn’t care, of course, but he was listening.
One night, Mithrun nearly hit a vital organ with a piece of glass from the bathroom mirror that he’d shattered.
You healed it, the light from your hands growing brighter than usual. Your shoulders were tense and you couldn’t help but scowl and growl and mutter.
Mithrun just looked at you, “You know this isn’t what I want.”
“I don’t care,” you answered immediately.
He grit his teeth, “I don’t want to live.”
“I want you to live!” You exploded. He flinched backward, but no emotion passed over his face. He simply stared. You gulped down your feelings and continued healing him.
Maybe that was selfish of you. You didn’t care.
Milsiril was a mother. Milsiril was a caretaker. Milsiril was a toymaker and she knew how to wind them up and set them on the path again.
“I’m ready to go back into the dungeon,” Mithrun said. His voice was still scratchy, but he was sitting up on his bed for once. He’d gained a few pounds and his shoulders weren’t sharp as knives anymore.
Milsiril only shook her head, “Not yet, I’m sorry.”
Mithrun looked at you as if he expected you to ally with him. You knew him the best, you knew what he wanted in life. You even knew what his secret desire was, the one he couldn’t admit to himself.
You shook your head as well, “You’re still underweight and you haven’t quite gotten the hang of taking care of yourself yet.”
Mithrun’s expression only darkened, “Then let’s keep practicing.”
Where Milsiril was more concerned with making Mithrun socially acceptable enough to rejoin society, you were much more concerned about his living conditions, health, and dignity. It was a relief that he’d stopped trying to pick the locks on the knife drawer. It was not a relief that Mithrun was planning for his inevitable death against the demon— not that he’d admit that.
He wanted different things now. No longer was his goal to die from withering away, but rather to die at the hands of the god who once served him. Still, it involved him dying. There was this feeling you had inside, comparable to the feeling you had when you were first being hunted by the Canaries. You knew it was inevitable that they would find you and jail you or make you join them. Anticipation rose in your chest until it finally burst when they tied up your wrists and clipped your ears.
Now, anticipation was rising again. It had been rising for the last twenty or so years that you’d spent at Mithrun’s side. You could only wonder when it would burst, and when you’d end up as scraps on the floor like the shreds of a popped balloon. You could only wonder.
When Mithrun rejoined the Canaries, you went with him. He said nothing about that. You were the one who cut his hair shorter for functionality reasons. You were the one who delivered his new uniform and made sure it fit. You were the one who sat on his back as he did push ups for training— which was actually the most fun with him you’d had in the last twenty years. It was kind of silly, but it was good to see him willing to do things like exercise and challenge himself, even if his end goal was just to reach the demon.
There was a lot of teasing involved when you two returned to the Canaries.
“Are you in love with him or something?” Helki asked behind his hand. He cast a glance at Mithrun, who was sitting nearby and silently staring out the window.
You made a face, “With Mithrun? No. I love him, but not like that.”
“Are you sure?” He snorted, “You’ve been like his little wife for the last few decades.”
“I don’t think I would consider all that as wife-like,” you retorted.
“Why do you do it, then?”
Was it truly so impossible for someone to comprehend caring for another individual without expecting something in return? Or not having a motive? You supposed there was a motive, but it wasn’t romance. You just… cared. You wanted him to stay alive and get better. And he was relatively better, now. Relatively.
You patted Helki’s shoulder, “Because he’s my friend. Nothing more.”
You didn’t notice, but Mithrun’s head tilted. He always listened to you, even when you didn’t think so.
“Can you help her?” Flamela jutted a thumb toward where you and Mithrun sat. Her voice, louder than everybody else’s in the Canary’s headquarters, caught your attention. Mithrun kept his arms crossed and his gaze on the recruits training outside.
Cithis blinked in surprise. Her eyes landed on you and you returned the look with a hesitant smile.
“It’s a lot to explain,” Flamela continued, “but Captain Mithrun needs help and [name] needs a break.”
Your brows furrowed. You hadn’t expressed needing a break before. You were fine. You liked taking care of Mithrun. Yet before you could protest, Flamela was already walking away. And Cithis stood there with her hands folded and her eyes curious, analyzing.
Dread settled into your chest.
“You’re not some helpless baby, Mithrun,” you didn’t mean to yell, nor pace, nor gesture so wildly with your hands, but you couldn’t help it. “You’re not a dog, not a slave, not someone who can be exploited for entertainment! You’re a person and you deserve respect!”
Mithrun only raised a brow, “So, you’re mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you,” you snapped, sounding quite mad at him. Yet you pulled yourself together and took a deep breath, “No, Mithrun, I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault. I just wish people saw you as more than what you’re going through. You’re the damn Captain of the Canaries now, you’ve risen above some really tough shit and you’re capable and strong and—”
Lord.
The realization hit you like a slap to the face.
You froze, mouth hanging open, eyes on Mithrun. He only stared, as he tended to do, waiting for you to say something. But you couldn’t. You’d been slapped in the face by reality and now everything ached.
“I’ve got to go,” you managed to squeak out before running toward the door. You left his bedroom behind and darted down the hallway of the Canaries Headquarters. You shared a room with a few other criminals, but they weren’t there when you burst inside and collapsed onto your bed. You were in your late 100’s yet there you were, screaming into your pillow like a 60 year old.
You’re in love.
“I’m in love,” you said out loud, which you immediately regretted because that made things real.
You’re in love. You’re in love. You’re in love and it hurts so much because Mithrun could never love you back. Were you a masochist? Probably. Your heart hurt. You suddenly understood the concept of heartbreak, it felt as if your heart was about to physically fall apart. Realizing that you’re in love should be a happy moment. It shouldn’t hurt so much.
Alright, you decided. You’re going to ignore it like an adult. You’re going to take this secret to the grave.
Captain Mithrun’s team was a mess.
But they were fun.
“Hey,” Lycion elbowed you one night at the dinner table. He leaned down to whisper while you were mid-bite of a piece of chicken. “Do you think the Captain would let me check out the fighting scene on that island? Like, we could put off the whole negotiations thing for a day so I can go see it?”
Mithrun personally wouldn’t care, you knew, but he would refuse Lycion’s request for the sake of getting into the dungeon faster. You swallowed your food and sent him a glance, “Why’re you asking me? Pattadol’s the one that does all the decision stuff with Mithru— the Captain.”
“But you know him best.”
True enough. Still, you were just the healer, still a criminal sentenced to another 40 or so years of Canary service. You sent Lycion an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I don’t think he would.”
“Can you ask him?” Lycion used that purring voice he always utilized on certain targets unwilling to obey.
You remained unaffected, “I don’t see why you think me asking him would make a difference.”
“The Captain would do anything you asked!” He explained, “Within reason, of course. You’re his girl.”
Your heart skipped a beat and you forced the satisfaction down. “I’m not his girl. And he pretty much does whatever anyone tells him to do as long as it doesn’t interfere with his goals, so I’m not any different.”
“You’re blind,” Lycion muttered, “so blind.”
Mithrun had been pulled into the stupid pit thing or whatever with that stupid Kabru guy. You were going to pull your hair out.
When he reunited with the Canaries, he actually looked rather well-taken care of. You begrudgingly admitted that Kabru may not be as stupid as you thought, but you couldn’t let go of your anger at the entire situation. You still wanted to pull your hair out, mostly because you were resisting the urge to wrap your arms around the Captain and squeeze until your bodies melted together.
Mithrun noticed your stress and slowly approached you. He patted your head, “I’m fine,” he said.
He could be shot in the chest and he’d still claim to be fine.
“When this is all over,” you managed to say through the fog of anger and worry and adoration and fury, “we’re taking a holiday. We’ll go to the Eastern Archipelago and we’re sitting on the beach and we’re going to do very safe things like build sandcastles or take naps.”
Mithrun looked down at you. He stared, as was his tendency. Then he raised both brows and you thought that just for a second, there was a hint of a smile on his lips. An affectionate smile. Perhaps it was hopeful thinking, an illusion brought forth by stress. You weren’t sure.
His hand that was on your head slowly ran down the side of your cheek and to your chin, lifting your face so you’d look at him. He didn’t hold you for long, though, letting his arm drop to his side when he had your attention.
“When we have time, I will go where you go,” he said.
You wanted to smack him in his stupid beautiful face for being so sweet. What was wrong with him? Was he in a good mood? You could only narrow your eyes in suspicion.
Of course, Mithrun walked away after that, back to the mission at hand. Yet his words echoed. I will go where you go.
That was more like something you would say to him. You’ve made the decision to be at his side for the last 40 years. You would follow him to the ends of the earth.
Surely, he didn’t mean it.
But then again, Mithrun wasn’t in the habit of lying unless it served his purpose. And he wouldn’t lie to you, of all people. Surely not.
The demon was gone and Mithrun had lost his purpose in life.
How scary, you thought. How terrifying to lose your one reason for living. You’d most likely be on the ground, slumped up against a tree and expecting to wither away just like him. But unlike you, Mithrun had people who cared for him, who wouldn’t accept that fate for him, who loved him.
Senshi and Kabru said their pieces. The Canaries all agreed with a chorus of encouragement and opinions and friendship.
You offered your hand, like you always did, like you’d been doing for the last four decades.
He took it.
Mithrun placed his hand in yours. And the anticipation bubble that had been building in your chest for so long finally popped. But you were okay. It was okay. He was okay.
Mithrun pardoned you, surprisingly. You told him that wasn’t necessary and that he should use his pardon on someone else who had a longer sentence. There were only 40 years left for you. Surely they wouldn’t be as long as the last 40 years had been.
“No, it's you I want,” Mithrun said rather casually, “you’re staying with me in Melini.”
He wanted something. He wanted you.
You forced yourself to stay upright, “Alright. If you insist.”
Living with Mithrun in this state was very different. It was fun, heartbreaking, difficult, easy, calm, chaotic. Some days, he laid in bed and stared at the wall. Other days, he made noodles and walked through the forest and sat on the beach with you, doing very safe things like building sandcastles and taking naps. Many people in town assumed you two were married. You always corrected them, Mithrun never did.
He observed monsters and would need healing sometimes. You would push up the sleeve of his tunic and trace your fingers along old scars, none of them perfect. Then, heal him, as you tend to do.
“Are you sure you want this?” Mithrun asked one day.
You looked up to meet his eyes. Ink black, your favorite color. “What?”
“You can spend your life any way you want now,” he explained, his voice flat, “you’re free. I’m not your burden anymore.”
Your heart clenched in your chest. “You have never been a burden to me.”
“I used to hate you for keeping me alive.”
“I know.”
“And you never hated me?”
“I sometimes did,” you admitted softly, fingers tracing over his skin. You recalled this certain scar, from a pair of scissors you wrestled out of his hands at two in the morning years ago. “But it was the kind of hate that only stems from love.”
“You have always treated me like a human,” Mithrun murmured. His free hand went to your chin and lifted your face, “Like someone that deserves to live. You loved me despite my inability to give you anything in return. But I’m able now,” he leaned closer, “so allow me this.”
Damn. That had to be the first time you’d ever heard Mithrun say anything like tha—
He was kissing you.
It took you a moment to realize what was happening. His lips were on yours and your heart felt as if it might explode. Your hands shook as you raised them, eventually finding their way to his hair. That felt right. This was right. He deepened the kiss, slowly pushing forward. It was slow and careful and calm. It held so many words that neither of you were able to say. As he gently ran his hand up your thigh and to your hips, you couldn’t help but shiver.
40 years of longing accumulated into this moment. In a dark house in a new kingdom in a demon-free world, you started something new, and for once it wasn’t difficult at all.
#sorry if this bad it reads badly to me#but I had fun writing it#I don't rly do hurt comfort often#if that's not what you were looking for or expecting then I'm sorry!#I just got brainworms about this specific thing#mithrun#dungeon meshi#asks#delicious in dungeon#mithrun of the house of kerensil#dunmeshi#mithrun x reader#dungeon meshi x reader#dungeon meshi spoilers#spoilers#reader insert#x reader#female reader#the canaries#my writing
66 notes
·
View notes
Note
49 please!
<3
Always for you friend <3 a bit of Gale x You!Tav for you
Nightfall
He finds you sitting on the docks, your feet dipping into the river water below. The sun set just moments ago, sinking beneath the horizon and leaving behind lingering golden tones, quickly fading. Your eyes are trained there, on the deep orange and bruise purple tones of the clouds as evening turns into dusk, and then to night. It’s quiet out here at the end of this distant forgotten dock, the fishermen and laborers all having gone home to their dinners and their rest. But you’re still here. For a moment, you’re still here.
And he’s here with you, sitting down beside you, brushing his fingers against yours as he rests his weight back against his hands. He doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s simply waiting on you to speak what’s on your mind. It takes you a moment to find the words, and when they finally come, they’re soft and blunt.
“This could be our last night alive.”
You know what’s at stake. Tomorrow, you try to find the brain and put an end to its threat. But success is never guaranteed.
You could die. You could both die.
He looks at you for a long moment before turning back to watch the horizon, as purple shifts to indigo and then to midnight blue.
“Perhaps. And perhaps not.”
You turn to look at him, gazing for a moment at his profile as it is illuminated by the faint orange light of dusk as it fades into twilight blue. Though worry churns in your gut, he looks completely at ease, eyes on the horizon. On something beyond that horizon. Something only he can see.
“What would you do is this was our last night?” you whisper.
He thinks quietly for a moment before he gives you a soft smile and takes your hand, steady, sure. A complete turnaround from how he felt days ago, when he faced the idea of meeting the brain for the first time. When he contemplated going to his death alone. When he painted the sky with an aurora of green and purple, his gift to you, a goodbye to remember.
But it wasn’t goodbye. He’s still here. And neither of you are alone.
“Dream,” he says. “Dream up a way to guarantee I see a thousand more days turn into night, like this, with you at my side.”
You say nothing to that, but you smile. A month ago he wove together an aurora to tell you goodbye. Now, you lay with your backs against the docks and your bare feet trailing in the water, your fingers intertwined between you. Together, you watch the stars appear in the dark blue sky, one by one, as dusk turns into night.
And you dream of a thousand more nights like this.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#gale dekarios#gale#my fic#mini fic#bg3 fic#I hope you like it!#I wanted to write something soft#no edits tho we die like tadpoles or whatever
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
So a romantic partner and I were talking about my disabilities, chronic pain, and my excitement for a mobility aid. He mentioned that it was weird that I had been in pain so much lately, and I said something like, “weird for you, but my normal. Welcome to being disabled!”
To which he replied “for now.” He was very, very insistent I wouldn’t be disabled forever.
I didn’t know why but it made me so, so angry. When I tried to tell him no, my issues are degenerative and lifelong, genetic with no cure, he basically said he refuses to accept that to be “optimistic.” He got mad when I pushed back that he needed to mitigate his expectations because I’m working really hard on acceptance so I don’t push myself too hard and hurt myself more (which I 100% have been doing.)
My guy/gal/person/whatever: if you cannot accept me disabled, I am going to assume you can’t accept me in my entirety. Sure, I get being hopeful about new therapies and treatments - I always am! - but there is a point you need to accept that pain is a part of my life. Disability is part of my life. Sometimes those things are small, sometimes you can’t ignore them. There are plenty of days I’m walking around and seem fine, sure, but that’s only because people don’t see the aftermath. The pain management, the chronic fatigue, the fainting. People don’t see me on my bad days because I’m *not able to leave my apartment*. Not to pull a cliche, but if you can’t love me just as enthusiastically on my days when I can’t get out of bed from pain, you don’t deserve me on my days when I can walk around the store for 30 minutes and maybe do some craft projects.
More importantly, I tend to trust you less to help me on the former days if you can’t accept my disability for what it is and meet me where I’m at.
It’s taken me a long time to accept my pain and disability, a lot longer than I’d like to admit. While I do not love my pain and limitations and don’t pretend to, they are part of me. I don’t expect other people to love them, but I do need others to accept them.
My walker doesn’t mean an end to fun days with my friends on the Terrace splitting a pitcher of beer, it means more of them. Accepting my disability doesn’t mean rolling over and rotting, it means working with what I can do to make the most of my life. Accepting pain doesn’t mean I let it rule me, it means I do things to avoid triggers while still living my life. Limitations don’t mean I can’t do anything ever, sometimes it just means getting creative in how I do things (and I am aware how privileged I am to make that statement, because other disabilities or my current without needed support would be much more devastating.)
Disabled is not a bad word.
#rivkah irl#disability#chronic pain#heds#chronic illness#chronic fatigue#disability pride#invisible disability#disability awareness#disability acceptance#pain acceptance#relationships#actually disabled#mobility aid
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Visions - Peter Parker
@theslayerofthevampires asked: Hey! You asked for requests so here I am:) I was wondering if you could do a Peter Parker x psychic reader one and this could take place around homecoming era where the reader has had the gift of premonitions ever since she was little. She attends school with Peter Parker and friends unaware that he's Spider-Man. One day when she helps Peter pick up something that he dropped and she has a premonition that involves the Peter being trapped under rubble the premonition is so violent that it cause her to faint
Hey there! I hope you enjoy this oneshot. It went kinda long and I cut it off at an odd moment because I wasn't sure how to continue it without it being super long! Thanks for sending this one in :)
Peter Parker x Reader [Fluff and Angst]
Warnings: Violence, visions, mention of death, fainting
-
Starting a new school again made your head hurt like hell. You and your family had to move to this new area because of your dad’s job and thankfully, this was supposed to be the last time you guys would move. Hopefully, you’d enjoy this new school you were going to, as a sophomore. It was upsetting that you had to leave your friends once again, after living in your old home for about two years.
Your head was hurting even more than normal, since you started to have more and more premonitions after moving to such a big city. Your dad’s job usually took you all to somewhat remote places. The most remote place you had to live was in a small town in Alaska for about three years, when you were in elementary school.
These premonitions started the night your grandmother passed away. It was awful, the first ever premonition you had was the view of your grandmother’s funeral and you hadn’t known at the time that she had just passed away.
Thankfully, there had been a little box set aside for you from your grandmother that explained why you had this supposed “gift”. It passed onto every other generation of women born in your family, after the last person with the gift had died. You were “blessed” (you had believed yourself to be doomed) with the gift of seeing the future. You would get random visions every day, lasting only a few seconds at a time. Sometimes touching something or someone would trigger a more powerful vision, one where you’d feel like you were really there.
This big new city had been causing you to have visions every other hour of the day, it was terrible.
And this school was huge! You had applied to it when you heard you were moving and thankfully your application was accepted. Each classroom had about 30 people in them, and the courtyard was twice the size of the football field.
The start of the first day was a bore so far. You were in your fourth class, right before lunch, and you stared at the board as the teacher droned on and on about following their rules.
“All borrowed pencils will go back into this container here. I count all my pencils at the beginning and end of class, so please return them. You will need access to a laptop this year for my class, because we will be writing a lot of essays. If you need a laptop, you can always rent one in the library here on campus, using your student ID number. We will also be using a textbook and various online sources, so please look on my syllabus to see which textbook to pick up at the library sometime this week.” He continued and you took a few notes to remember the things he was talking about.
“This is so boring.” Someone whined behind you, and you mumbled back, “Right?” This spurred on a surprised laugh from the person behind you, so you turned around to see who it was.
It was a guy, with dark brown hair parted at his forehead, wearing a graphic t-shirt of an old cartoon character. “I’m Ned, it’s nice to meet you.” He whispered to you, eyes going back and forth from the teacher to you.
You nodded politely and smiled to him, telling him your name, “It’s nice to meet you too. Cool shirt.”
Ned visibly brightened up and you smiled even more back to him. You turned around when you heard your teacher clear his throat and continued the lecture. A few minutes went by and finally the teacher said to introduce yourself and talk with others around the classroom.
You turned your chair around to face Ned and smiled at him again. “Hey, so we have history together. Do you know anything about this class and teacher?” You awkwardly bring up, trying to start a conversation.
“Oh yeah! He’s kind of a jerk when he doesn’t have an energy drink on his desk. And his breath stinks really bad, so prepare yourself if you ever need to talk one on one with him. But I think he lets people choose their own partners in class.” Ned rambles, then looks at your notes, “Wow. You’re prepared! Are you like, good at school? You should join our team for the Academic Decathlon this year!”
You laughed slightly, “I mean, I just write down what seems important and remember the dates.”
“That’s perfect, we’re always looking for new people to join. Are you good with math and science as well?” Ned asked and you nodded.
“I am, I was actually in a math club in my last school.” You shrugged, and Ned’s eyes widened.
“If you join our team, I will literally do anything you want as a favor. Seriously, we only had like 3 girls last year, it’s always good to diversify our team! Please, join. You seem cool too, since you recognized who was on my shirt.” Ned begged, leaning closer to you on his desk.
You let out a surprised laugh, “I’ll think about it. Maybe if I meet more of the members, I’ll join?”
“Stay with me during lunch, I’ll introduce you to my friend Peter! He’s part of the club too. And Liz Allen’s part of the team too if you heard of her.” Ned mentioned.
You shook your head, “I don’t know anyone here. Just know the classmates that sat next to me during class.”
“Oh, okay! Yeah, I think you’ll get along with the rest of the team, they’re pretty nice.” Ned shrugged.
-
You sat next to Ned after grabbing some food. The cafeteria was somewhat busy, but it seemed like everyone was grouped up mostly, and getting ready for Homecoming. You took a bite out of your food as Ned spoke up to someone, as they sat next to him on the bench.
“Oh hey, this is Peter Parker, my friend I was talking about earlier.” He introduced you and Peter together. You smile and wave politely to him, finishing your bite.
“Hi Peter. It’s nice to meet you. You’re on the Academic Decathlon team here?” You started the conversation between the three of you and Ned launched into explaining to Peter how you two met and how he thought you’d do great on the team.
“Yeah! I think the teacher would welcome you on the team anytime during the year, so it doesn’t matter if you’re new. Plus, I think there’s a trip soon, for our competition, so that would be fun. I’m not sure I’ll be there for it, but you should totally go with Ned.” Peter told you and you nodded.
“Oh sweet. I think I’ll join you guys for a meeting then and I’ll see if I like it.” You responded and took a sip of water.
“Why do you keep cancelling things, Peter? It sucks, you’re like my best friend and you’re always going on about your internship. Tony Stark’s gotta let you off the leach sometimes.” Ned complained, noticing Peter’s words about possibly not going on the trip.
“Woah, Tony Stark?” You asked, impressed. Tony Stark didn’t hire high school interns, you had researched that a while ago when you lived somewhere in California. There was a Stark Industries building a few streets away from your old school and you wanted to intern there for a little but was told it wasn’t possible.
Peter must be super smart, you figured, to get an internship at that company.
“Oh yeah, I’ve been a bit busy with that. And I always have to make sure I’m available for Tony Stark whenever. He could need me anytime, so I want to make sure I can help him out.” Peter replied, making Ned pout.
“That’s so annoying. Can’t you like tell Tony to chill out or something?” Ned groaned, rolling his eyes as Peter shook his head.
“I can’t just blow him off like that. And… besides I talk to his assistant, or something more than I talk to Tony since he’s really busy.” Peter huffed out.
“Still, that’s so cool you know him and have an internship. What do you guys do?” You asked, and Peter lit up, starting to talk about robotics and technology he was working on.
“Well, he’s got me reading and learning about MIT’s newest robot. I think he’s working on something with the Avengers too, so we only talk every so often about this stuff.” He brought up and you oohed in interest.
“The Avengers are cool, I heard something’s up with Captain America though. I don’t think we know all the details though, since the news keeps repeating what they’re saying about him.” You said, and Nod hummed in response to your words as he chewed on something.
“I used to think he was awesome until he did those videos for gym classes. Now he’s just some weirdo boomer.” Ned groaned.
Peter laughed, “He’s kind of strong regardless of that.”
-
A few weeks went by as you started to get used to living here. You became friends with Ned and Peter, along with MJ, who had started to tag along whenever you brought her into the conversation. You joined the Academic Decathlon team, and also started to become friends with a few of them there. You mostly hung out with Ned outside of class, going to his place and building some Lego sculptures as you two watched old timey shows on TV.
Peter would sometimes join along, always appearing to be sweaty for some reason. You and Ned would tease him about running errands for Tony Stark, but Peter would brush it off and say he was just busy a lot now. You met his aunt, May, who was such a sweetheart. She had squealed in joy when Peter said you were his friend, which made you all laugh.
“Peter typically only stuck with Ned all the time! I’m just so happy he’s growing up and getting more friends in his life.” May remarked afterwards.
You introduced May to your mom one day since they both had similar interests. May’s job with a charity organization had connected her with one of your relatives out of state, which led to her connecting more with your family and you. It felt like a small world when you found out about her connection!
You, Ned, and Peter (and sometimes MJ) started going to a deli near the school to finish up some homework and then hang out and decide if you guys would go to Ned’s place or Peter’s place, since both you and MJ lived a bit further away from the school.
You got pretty close with MJ, outside of the group when both Ned and Peter would hang out to do stuff together. MJ was someone who really recognized there was something different about you, when she caught onto the fact you’d randomly know if there would be something special about the day.
She had mentioned it in conversation once and then kept quiet about it after you got a little antsy about the fact she was onto your secret.
“Yeah, I see when you blink out of our conversations sometimes and come back looking a bit different. It’s like you went somewhere, didn’t you?” MJ said, to which you quickly laughed loudly and brought up another subject.
She would wink at you whenever you randomly say not to do something or go somewhere. It made your heart jump a little in concern, but it made you happy that she didn’t do anything else about it.
Sometimes, just you and Peter would be hanging out when Ned’s family needed his help with something, and you and Peter would quietly stay together in Ned’s room while he went and helped. It was never awkward, but it felt peaceful and you two got along great.
He talked about Star Wars a lot and even lent you one of his special edition versions of the second original movie. You would bring up a lot of random facts you learned about Star Wars, something you’ve started doing to see if Peter also knew that much about Star Wars, since you were a fan.
Sometimes he would bring up some inventions that he was thinking of. When you responded once to one of his ramblings about making something stretchy and sticky, with “Isn’t that what Spiderman uses?”, he turned red and apologized about being nerdy with science.
You didn’t think he needed to apologize for something that seemed to make him genuinely happy, and when you said that he laughed and said it was a bit of a habit. He seemed to talk more about stuff that made him happy after that and smiled more openly around you.
-
You had an appointment today to talk about moving your English class to an Advanced Placement English class with your counselor, which was lucky because Peter had an appointment with the same counselor today as well. You both walked together to the office, and you sat down outside the counselor’s office while Peter walked in first since he had his appointment before you.
You pulled out your phone to scroll through as you waited. After ten minutes or so, you glanced up at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.
“Okay Peter, you seriously have to consider at least hanging onto a few extracurricular clubs if you want to be taken seriously for consideration of a scholarship to Ivy League schools. I know you have your internship with Stark Industries, but you should keep your options open.” The counselor spoke up loudly as the door opened.
You stood up when the door opened, smiling at Peter as he walked out the door. He looked a bit upset, but still smiled back, “Your turn. I’ll wait here for you.”
You nodded silently, wondering if he was alright. You’d speak to him after your appointment. The counselor welcomed you in by saying your name.
“Hi, it’s good to finally see you again after emailing you a few weeks ago. So, how are you settling in? Do you like it here?” She asked as you sat down, and the door closed again. You shifted in the chair as you set your bag down on the floor.
“It’s going well, I like it here. I’m actually friends with Peter.” You nodded back towards the door, and she smiled in understanding.
“Aw, I’m glad you guys get along. I see here you’re also in the Academic Decathlon as him. Are you enjoying that? I think there’s a trip in two weeks! Are you going?” She asked a few questions and you fiddled with your fingers as you answered.
“Oh yeah, I’m going there and yeah, it’s really fun. Everyone’s pretty sweet in the group.” You answered back.
“Well, I’m happy to hear you’re settling in nicely. So, you wanted to move classes to a higher placement? I thought I saw you had a little trouble with reading in your file, do you feel ready to move to a higher class?” She asked, and you almost flinched at the question, being reminded of your visions. They happened more often while you were reading, and during school, that caused a few problems.
“Oh, it’s getting better, I think I can handle it. I just have a little trouble with reading out loud sometimes, I have trouble focusing on the words.” You explained, avoiding outright telling her the reason why you had trouble with that.
“Okay, well we can always have accommodations be made for you if that ever becomes a problem in the classroom, but I think it’s good we met up, so we understand where you want to go now. I’ll place you in the advanced class and I’ll email you in about a week to check in on how it’s going. I’ll send you your new classroom number and your new teacher’s email address. You’ll start going to the new English class tomorrow, does that sound good?” She spoke and you nodded along to what she said.
“Yeah, thank you. That’s all good!” You responded happily.
“Well, I think that’s it for this meeting. Thank you for coming in, I’ll see you later. Let me know if you need anything or want anything, dear. It was nice to meet you.” She said as you started to get up.
“Okay, thank you again. Bye!” You started to leave but she quickly gasped, “Oh wait! I forgot, give this paper to Peter for me, please. Thank you again.”
You took the paper she was holding and walked out the door, smiling politely at her. You didn’t look down at the paper, fearing it was something private and only for Peter, so you gazed up and walked towards the chair Peter was sitting in.
You hold the paper out in front of you as Peter gets up from the chair. “Hey, did it go good?” He asked, as you hand him the paper.
“Yeah, I got into the class I wanted.” You nodded, then added on, “Oh yeah, she wanted to give this to you, she forgot to give it to you before you left.”
Peter blinks down at the paper and sighs, then drags his bag down his shoulder, onto his arm and opens up the zipper.
“Shoot. I got to show this to Aunt May.” He said as he grabbed a folder from his bag, He flimsily opened it and started to put the paper into the folder. Just then, the door opened loudly from the other side of the office, causing Peter to flinch and drop his folder and papers.
He groaned loudly and leaned down, and you leaned down with him, helping him pick his stuff up. “Oh, is this all the stuff to study from the team?” You asked, seeing a few papers about some subjects’ you guys have been studying for.
You pick up one of the papers and hand it over to him, his fingers sliding against yours as he accepted the paper and your eyes glazed over as a vision hit you when you were unprepared. You stayed frozen in the moment, trying to blink off the vision but none of that worked, especially since it hit you so strongly this time.
At first, all you saw was darkness and heard deep rumbling and cracks, then you refocused your eyesight, blinking at what appeared to be a person struggling underneath rubble. You gasped as you walked forward in the vision, noticing it was Peter, your friend. He was stuck, struggling, and heaving as a piece of huge concrete laid atop him.
“I gotta get out of this, I gotta…” Peter gasped, over and over again, trying to breathe in fresh air. Blood was leaking down his face, and he was slurring his words, and you knelled down near him, your heart pounding harder than ever before.
“Peter!” You cried out, trying to help him but you couldn’t, you were ghost like in your visions. Your vision turned black, as if staring at the ocean during a dark night, waves of worry hitting you.
Your body hit the floor before Peter could even react, absolutely surprising and worrying him as your body lay down. Your eyes were closed, and you were incredibly pale, looking sickly. Peter quickly dropped his things, calling out your name as he picked you up.
“Oh my! What happened?!” The counselor gasped loudly, as she stepped into the room.
Peter shrugged, feeling panicked, “I think she fainted! Can I take her to the nurse?” He looked down at you, softly putting his hand near your wrist to check your heartrate. He sighed in relief to see it was mostly normal, just a little lower than an average teen’s heartrate.
“Of course, please do.” The counselor responded and Peter picked you up completely, leaving his stuff on the floor for later.
He took you to the nurse’s office as fast as he could, putting you on one of the beds in the corner of the room. He explained what happened to the nurse as he started to freak out a little more, sitting down next to your bed.
“Should I do anything to help? Can I call her mom? I know her, she’s really good friends with my Aunt. Is she going to be, okay? Can I stay here with her during class? I don’t want to leave her alone, especially if she’s hurt.” Peter rambled, putting his hand near yours and holding onto it tightly. He didn’t want to let go, he was worried.
The nurse sighed, “Well, you can stay, go ahead, and call her mom for me. She should be fine. It sounds like she might have just had a little fainting spell. Maybe she has really low blood sugar, but we’ll know when she wakes up.”
Peter thanked the nurse and called your mom, explaining what happened. In the meantime, you slowly started to wake up, still reeling from what you saw.
“Peter!” You gasped as you started to fully wake up, and he squeezed your hand softly, “Hey, how are you feeling?”
You felt horrible and scared for him, your eyes searched up and down his face, trying to see if there was any blood there, but you knew it was going to happen in the future. You were terrified. “Are you okay?” You still had to ask, still scared by what you saw.
“Wait – what, of course I’m okay! Are you? You fainted! Do you need some water? I called your mom and she’s coming by to pick you up from school so you can stay at home. Are you feeling alright?” He rambled, face slowly red from not breathing in.
“Mm, good. You need to stay safe. I’m okay, just… tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” You lied to him. His face contorted worriedly, as he squeezed your hand once more and you tried to smile at him.
“I promise I’m okay Peter.” You wanted to say it was him that would not be okay, that he needed to stay safe, but you couldn’t. You were glad your mom was coming to pick you up. She was one of the only people that understood your visions.
She didn’t have them, but having grown up with her mom having visions, she knew what they were, and understood that they were passed on through the family. In fact, she was probably going to ask you once you guys were in private if things were okay and if you guys needed to do anything.
There was only two other times your visions had helped prevent tragedies and emergencies.
The first time was when there was an earthquake in California when you and your family lived there, and the vision warned you that the large tree in your backyard would collapse against the house and severely injure you and your dad. You had the vision eight days before the earthquake, and you all made sure to be away from where the majority of the earthquake would hit.
The second was during your cousin’s first birthday party, where she had reached out and grabbed the lit candle off the cake and dropped it into a bush, where a large fire started and caused an explosion in your uncle’s house. You got that vision after touching the birthday invitation note, ten days before it happened.
They both terrified you and your family. And you were so very grateful that you guys managed to avoid it.
You hoped you’d be able to prevent this from happening. You tried to look for clues of your vision to see where it happened and when it would happen, but you hadn’t really gotten over the shock. You’d look over it when you could, but for now you couldn’t really recall the details.
You really didn’t want Peter to get hurt so badly like this. And since this was such a big city, it probably would hurt multiple people, instead of just Peter. You were terrified.
You blinked back into focus when Peter said your name, and you looked over at him. “You good? I’m really worried about you. You seem really sick.” He asked worriedly.
You shook your head, “It’s fine, I promise. Thank you, Peter. Really, thank you for helping me and bringing me here. You’re a good person.”
He blushed slightly as he gazed back at you, “Of course. I know we just met this year, but we’ve become really close, so I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. I care about you, you know?”
You felt your heart flutter slightly at his kind words, “I really care about you too. You’re special to me.” His eyes widened at that, and his hand unknowingly went slack in yours, and you quickly added on, “Uh, you and Ned and MJ… yeah. Really special.”
He quickly smiled softly to your words, but his eyes seemed a little duller than they did a moment ago. “Yeah, of course. I feel the same way about you. And them too, I guess.” He shrugged at the end silly, causing you to chuckle just a bit.
A knock at the door caused both you and Peter to look over, to see your mom walk in. You grinned at her as she came in, and silently nodded back to her when you saw the silent question in her eyes.
She signed you out of school for the day at the nurse’s desk, “Thank you for taking care of her.” She said to the nurse, but she snorted and pointed over to Peter.
“This boy here is the one that really cared for her. They’re so sweet, what a lovely couple.” The nurse said sweetly, and you coughed as Peter’s hand moved out of yours swiftly.
“We’re not a couple!” You yelped out at the same time Peter said, “Not together!”
Your mom and the nurse laughed at the two of you. “Oh, it’s alright, either way, you guys seem close. I’m glad my daughter has met someone so kind.” She said to Peter in a grateful tone.
Peter’s ears turned red at your mom’s words, and he nodded back, “Oh yeah, she’s kind too.”
“Hm, well anyway, say goodbye to Peter. I’m taking you home to rest. I can tell you need some rest.” Your mom said towards you, and you nodded and glanced over to Peter as you slowly got up from the bed. He helped you up, using his hand to support your back as you stood up.
“Thank you again. You’re really sweet. I’ll see you tomorrow maybe. I’m not sure if I’ll go to school tomorrow.” You spoke in a low volume to Peter, who smiled sweetly at you. You wanted to reach out and hug him, but you held off.
“Yeah, it’s no problem and text me after you get some rest! I’ll tell Ned and MJ you went home today.” He responded. You and your mom left the office after a few more moments, and Peter watched as you left.
He couldn’t help but worry about you, wondering why you fainted. He was scared to see you look so sick at that moment. It was also at that moment that he realized how much he really cared for you, much more than a friend would care. Either way, he was happy you went home to rest. He just hoped you’d feel better soon.
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Factory Reset !
Detective Harrington in early morning of the first Friday of the week pours himself a cup of joe as his cellphone begins to vibrate in his pants as he alerts himself about the importance of the day.Jays phone rings after he takes a inhale of the aroma traveling straight through his nostrils and his nerves rush in to overdrive sendings him in shivers as he wakes up for the morning.The minute he presses a answer call button placing the cellphone by his ears as a buzz worthy sounds vibrating through his ears in to his soul as he stops cold and he mindless stares ahead.A young man’s voice enters his ears leaving him to his core as his mind begins to spin in to a new atmosphere and whirling in to the sky everything fades out of existence like his soul jumps. He cannot fight the idea that something he is off in to a new life like his life has changed completely in a matter of seconds falling out of his body as he transported through time and space. A man appears in the midst of his darkness he is being called to him like a moth to a flame his feet begins to life and he is going insane deserving my absolute control over everything.
“Detective Harrington Welcome!”
“Where…where am I?”
“You are being processed”
“For what? I never asked for this?”
“So what my friend”
“Your white ass did”
“I am about to break you “
“No stop!”
“SHUT UP!”
“You are fucking pig”
“A white piece of shit “
“Look at me”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“You arrested me “
“I don’t remember “
“You deserve this”
“You framed me”
“What if I did ?”
“Take a deep breath”
“Heavy and heavier “
“Stand your ground “
“Lock your house down”
“Go to your office “
“Close the door “
“Good boi”
“Mmmmm”
“Go kneel on your desk”
“Bark like a dog”
“Smile for me”
“Change your clothes “
“Go to the train station”
“Step on it”
“Travel to this location “
“Take three rides and get off the train”
“Walk down to the street and down the block “
“Enter the alley side door and greet me”
“Watching the suspect enter the train sir”
“Good job officer “
“Advise “
“Make sure he gets off at three stops “
“Guide me! “
“Give him a shove “
“Yes Master”
“Sir Yes Sir”
“Officer Harrington “
“Oh Hey!”
“Are you alright?”
“I am drunk! I think”
“You’re fine”
“I promise”
“Take our hands”
“Ok we need to get you help “
“You are high”
“No! I don’t do drugs “
“You did yesterday “
“No! I can’t “
“I wouldn’t “
“Guys! Wait”
“Where are we?”
“Guys!”
“Who are you ?”
“Master “
“Why are you calling him that?”
“Flick the lights on”
“Yes Master”
“The fuck!”
“Take the needle”
“Firmly “
“Inject him”
“Woah! Wake up “
“Must obey “
“Must submit “
He stops cold at fainting on his new masters command he hits the floor as his eyes are whirl around and slide back his eye balls in to an upper position inside of his socket and he succumbs. The man exits the shadows in to the lights in a super fashion knelt next to him placing his palms on him rubs his stomach slowly but steadily waking him up and he stirs back to reality.
His body loves the sensation of my hands on to bin with love crawling on him as he cock straightens upward hard with pleasure in moments of rock hard nature throbbing him to the side.Harrington can’t help but smile taking up his hand in mind as he kisses or slowly up to his neck and flowing to his lips in time to meet his neck and the two are forced to kiss as they are connected.
The man points to his bed wear he lays out new clothes for him to which Jay felt a very renewed desire of this life to begin yet ever again as our lips connect them again and with that he held on to me with craving he cannot and will not control.Sitting down on my bed just watch him go on his transform removing his shirt over his head, letting his pants drop exposing his underwear to the world, his dress shows kick off and he quickly dresses now in all back a sign of submission to his Nubian king.
I am on the scene Master Lawrence “
“Find him, hunt him down”
“With pleasure”
“Use every skill in your book”
“Use your badge correctly “
“I will bear him to he submits “
“Good boi”
“Mmmm! I love being bad”
“I tracked him down”
“Go off grid “
“Capture him”
“Yes Master”
“Rub through it”
“Bring him to the station”
“Enslave him and my fellow cops “
“Yes Master”
“I love you “
“Will call you soon with completion “
The end
#jay harrington#cell phone#sounds#hypnosis#mind control#reprogramming#hypno slave#hypnotic love#white bois#rehabilitation#male transformation#slave doll android#White Bois Truth#Hypno Official Job Slaves
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
period cramps go brrrr
my brother: yknow i had this really bad stomach ache yesterday
me: o rly
my brother: yeah it was the worst i had every had. i bet you never had any
my cramps: oh honey you have no idea
#pain#help#it hurtssss#period#cramps#period cramps#i was going to go meet my friends and then i fainted#fucking cramps#PAINNN#ugh#women
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
my friends have been asking for this since. checks watch. january the year before the last one. i thought since i dropped him here too i'd post it here as well.....
#he/they insanity#WAIT HE'S LIKE 2 YEARS OLD ALREADY. FAINTING#anyway yeah we have like our own little group of characters and they kinda do things and i can't believe i had this mf for so long and#i Still. am attached to him. like sometimes i remember him and i'm just like... ohmy god. it's them.#and sometimes i go visit my friends and then we're like. Oh My God Do You All Remember So And So and i'm flooded with memories#fun fact they originated from like a fucking minecraft server and okay it's a ride and you need context#we had a silly podium where we'd meet up and talk about things. and somehow it turned into like a fucjing president altar and we had like#a president. and like politics. and like judgements and trials and banishments from the land#and this guy was like a catboy maid president. like that was my minecraft skin. and it'd be like. nya! politics! BANYASHMENT#and then i made him go through fucking hell.
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Might just pass the fuck out actually
#it has not been a good day. the first thing i had to do today went badly and i’m not looking forward to doing the second thing#and it’s hot and my house feels like a soup and my knee is acting up so i’m essentially walking like i don’t even know what#i was going to say frankenstein’s monster but i don’t even know if he has a limp#i wish the lecture i have tonight wasn’t the FIRST one in the course. if i’d already done a couple i feel like it’d be more acceptable#for me to email the lecturer or the guidance person or somebody and be like ‘hey chief i had an absolute disaster this morning.#is it okay if i take a personal day to cry into chinese food and try to drown myself in the bath? i’ll watch the lecture tomorrow & recap’#but i haven’t established a reputation for showing up & being competent yet#ugh and i looked on the website and the cohort is exactly 8 people which… idk what i was expecting but why must it be small#if i get asked to introduce myself i’m just going to cry on camera#god i bet i do get asked. that’s going to be fucking horrible#‘i’m ellen; i don’t work anywhere because i left my first shift at my new job in tears today bc i almost fainted because my knee decided to#give out; i know enough html and css to know that this course is going to kick my ass. i’m also learning python#because my friend roped me into it. also sorry that i’m eating right now but i decided there was no way i was getting through this class#without ordering fried rice. i don’t know why i’m here. nice to meet you i guess’#i’m so hungry but i don’t want to eat anything because i want to order food. but also. do i have the mental fortitude to talk to someone#on the phone. but i don’t have the mental fortitude to cook either…… it’s a big problem#ultimately cooking would be physically harder but i would also get my food sooner. calling them would be mentally harder and i would get my#food later. ohhhhh god and i just remembered this other takeaway place that opens at 4:30 (💖) but they’re CLOSED ON MONDAYS#i guess there’s also the chinese place in the village. AND their prawn toast is better. and they open earlier and deliver super fast. 🧐#i might just order beef fried rice from them and whatever happens to me happens to me. (i have a beef intolerance lol#but they cook their chicken in a way that makes it really chewy. it won’t make me sick or anything; never has before; but it’s not the vibe.#it’s chinese food cooked by english people. that’s the problem. the prawn toast is good though)#anyway! for personal reasons i will be passing out#personal
1 note
·
View note
Text
Change My Ways For You
Pairing: College!Fuckboy!Bucky x college!fem!reader
Summary: One of the only girls in school that didn’t want Bucky Barnes was somehow the one he fell in love with
Warnings: Smut, fluff, reader doesn’t take any of Bucky’s shit, himbo!Bucky, Bucky being a fuckboy,a bit of forced proximity, small part where Bucky is fucking someone else (ew), pinning, Bucky proving himself to be a sweet boy, non consentual kissing, Bucky being tooth rottingly sweet, Bucky calling reader sweets sweetheart and sweetcheeks, Steve is a dick (sorry not sorry), PROTECTED p in v (they are responsible in this one), fingering, fluffy smut, dirty talk, cockwarming?, so much praise, talk about STDs, delayed aftercare, talk about no aftercare, Bucky learns about aftercare so all is good
Word Count: 14.6k This is a long one
A/N: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading and helping with the direction; however, any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. This fic is the most adorable and full of emotions. The angst, the fluff, the feelings and especially Bucky. The way they act around one another — it’s absolutely great and definitely a read worth it!
“I have to admit, some of your grades in this class are less than I expected. Some of you have excelled in my class, but there are quite a few students to which their performance, to put it nicely, has been subpar.” A few students in the room look around, trying to see who looks guilty of having shit grades. You couldn’t care less; you know your grades are great so it’s not your problem if someone else is failing.
All you want to do is get out of class and go back to your dorm to sleep, having stayed up way too late to finish a research paper for a different class. Your professor walks back over to his desk and leans back on it, sighing and taking off his glasses to wipe them on his sweater.
“Now, while I understand that this course is not for the faint of heart, I still expect all of you to put in effort, and based on these,” he holds up the essays that were due last week, “I can tell that some of you just don’t care. Not even mentioning those of you who didn’t turn in your paper.”
You hear a scoff a few rows behind you and you know it’s Bucky Barnes without having to turn your head. He is the resident fuckboy, not caring about school or his education, just going to parties and fucking every living thing in sight. Sometimes you think that the only reason he is even in college is to have the “college experience” of “being free and having a bit of fun.”
He’s never turned your head, rather just been a thorn in your side three times a week when you go to class, always joking with his friends next to him or talking about his latest trist. You don’t want to hear about how loud a random girl screamed when she came on his cock. You were here to get your degree and finally move out of this shitty town you were stuck in.
Honestly, you doubt that Bucky was even giving anyone orgasms. In your experience, men who brag about how good they were in bed were nothing but a disappointment, giving you about 30 seconds of mediocre sex until they came inside a condom and rolled over only to ask you, “did you cum?” The answer was always no. You didn’t have the patience to stroke any man’s ego when they couldn’t even make you wet.
Bucky did nothing but make you roll your eyes, annoyed by the absolute gall of himself. “Now, because I don’t want my class average to go down because of a few dumbasses, I have sent some of you an email to meet me in my office after hours in which I will pair you up with another student in hopes that it will give you a kick in the ass since I cannot be bothered to spend more time teaching you.” You like your professor, you really do. He was one of the chillest professors you’ve had, but a twinge of fear goes through you. You fucking hope that he doesn’t pick you to help another student, especially Bucky.
You hang on to the sliver of hope that he won’t pick you. He knows that you’re busy, right? Between work and school you don’t have any time to tutor anyone. The topic stays on your mind long after you leave class, delaying looking at your email just in case he picked you to help another student.
As the hours went by, however, you knew that you had to check it. You cursed when your laptop had battery; if it didn’t, it would have given you an excuse to not show up if you were picked. Nonetheless, you opened your school email, only to find out that you had been picked and you needed to go down to your professors office in a half hour.
Getting dressed, you had the most intense scowl on your face. This was the last thing you needed added onto your plate. You only hoped that he would pair you up with someone who didn’t need that much help, but you were proven wrong when you walked in only to find Bucky sitting down looking like he would rather be anywhere else.
“Take a seat, please.” You huff and sit down, moving your body away from Bucky as much as you could. You didn’t really feel comfortable around him. He’s never done anything to you per say, but you’ve seen his shameless flirting and it makes you uneasy and never want to be on the receiving end of it.
You don’t pay attention to anything your professor says, something about helping Bucky over the next few months until he’s passing or fails out of the course. You’re too lost in thought to care. On top of everything you have going on, now you have to help the one person you can’t stand.
Your professor dismisses the both of you with instructions to meet at least twice a week to study together. Bucky walks out before you and you assume that he has sprinted away to go to another party given that it was late afternoon, but you find him right outside the door.
“So, sweetcheeks, I guess you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me now.” His eyes run up and down your body, like this was the first time he’s seen you. It makes you shift and wrap your arms around your middle, trying to soothe yourself. Bucky clearly takes this the wrong way and thinks that you like his hungry eyes and steps closer to you. “How about I give you my number and we can meet up, ya know, to study? Or if you ever need something, I’m sure we can figure something out.”
You don’t want to give him your phone, thinking about where his hands have been. Ever since his step closer to you, you can smell the scent of sex on him. If you look closer at his beard you can see the glisten on it, most likely from some girl he ate out right before he came to the meeting.
“Just tell me your number, James so we can get this over with. I don’t want to help you and you don’t want my help. Clearly you don’t give a shit about this class and you only want to get in my pants.” He raises his eyebrows at your tone, a little shocked that you spoke to him like that. Before he opens his mouth you continue, “I mean, look at you. You’re flirting with me when I can fucking see that someone’s pussy was on your face, and that makes you think that I want to have sex with you?”
He opens his mouth one more time but you aren’t finished, finally able to snap at him for all the times he’s pissed you off. “I’m not going to be one of the girls you add to your roster so you can get that idea out of your head right now. The only time I am going to interact with you is when I have to, okay? Now give me your number so I can go back to my dorm and fucking sleep.”
Bucky is shocked, not having anyone talk to him like that. It pisses him off that you rejected him. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but he has time to change your mind. He can’t lie, your sass was making his pants tighter, but he relents and gives you his number before you walk away while he watches your ass, palming his dick through his pants.
He needs to relieve the pressure in his groin and he’s sure as hell you’re not going to help him and his hand is nowhere near good as a pussy, so he goes out to Steve’s party, knowing that he can get a girl in minutes.
“Fuck, yeah baby, that pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock. Shit, love that ass too, you gonna let me fuck it? Yeah, I bet you fucking would too.” Bucky doesn’t know how the two of them ended up in the bathroom, fucking each other’s brains out, but he’s not complaining. When she offered to get on her knees and suck his cock he pulled her into the nearest room, cumming on her face before pushing her into the mirror, smearing her makeup and his cum all over the mirror.
The slam of his hips was brutal, surely going to leave bruises on her hips but he didn’t care, as long as she wasn’t complaining, he would do whatever he wanted with her, fucking her like she was a slut. “Fuck, baby, gonna make me fucking cum. Pussy is so fucking tight.” He lets a groan out, close to cumming.
Usually he didn’t make much noise during sex other than dirty talk, only breathing heavily and groaning when he was about to cum, but he was always composed. Sex felt great, but he never felt the need to moan. He never understood why men would moan like a slut just over some pussy, and he doubted that he would ever embarrass himself like that during sex.
“Love the way that ass bounces, so fucking hot.” This was the way Bucky fucked - from behind watching the girl’s ass jiggle. He wasn’t one to fuck any other way. Bucky didn’t give a shit to watch her face or look into her eyes, he just wanted to cum as fast as possible so he could move on with the rest of his day. He thought missionary was quite possibly the most boring position ever created, not like he ever made it to a bed anyway.
“Shit, gonna take my cum, bitch? Yeah, you fucking are, just a little fucking cumdump for me, letting me fuck you in a dirty bathroom, too horny for my fat cock.” He was babbling, just wanting to cum so he could go back out to the party and have another drink, maybe even pick another girl up for later.
Bucky lets out a low groan, filling up the condom with his cum. Once his orgasm is finished, he pulls out, taking the rubber off and throwing it away. Pulling his pants back up, the girl turns around, clearly affronted. “I didn’t even cum, baby.” Her voice was high and annoying, making Bucky roll his eyes.
“Sorry, but your pussy made me bust early.” He chuckles knowing damn well that it was a lie. He just couldn’t be bothered to make her cum. Why would he put in the extra work to make her cum when he was just having fun? If she wanted to cum so bad she could have handled it herself. He wasn’t stopping her from using her own hands. Bucky either ate a girl out until she came to get her nice and wet if he was feeling generous that day or left her to her own devices while he took his own pleasure from her body.
She blushes, “oh, thanks, that’s sweet of you.” Bucky just wants to get the fuck back to the party and she’s talking too fucking much. “Maybe we can do this again.”
He can hear how hopeful she is and he felt just a little bit bad so he decided to humor her. “Sure, Sherry, whenever I’m free. You know college life and all, working hard in classes every day. Gotta keep up that 4.0 GPA.” As he heads for the door, he hears her squeak out, It’s Sally!
The next day is when you’re supposed to meet Bucky in the library to study, but it’s been a half hour and he still hasn’t shown. You decide to study what you need to. If Bucky wanted to fail you weren’t going to go out of your way to help him. You weren’t his mother; he was a grown man and he was responsible for himself.
Nearly an hour later, Bucky stumbles in, clearly reaping the effects of the alcohol binge he must have been on the night before. It was no wonder why he was failing his classes. When he sees you, a smile graces his lips, trying to make you forget that he was more than fashionably late. “Heeyyyy, sweetcheeks. You been waitin’ on me long?” The closer he gets the more you can smell the musk of sex and alcohol.
“James, are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” You know he is and you fight the urge to turn your nose up at the offensive smell coming off him.
“Huh? Oh, shit, I am. Well would ya’ look at that?” He laughs before plopping down in the seat next to you, his smell even worse than before. He tries to give you what you assume is a sexy look, but he just looks like he just awoke out of a coma. “How about you help me change them then, sweetcheeks? Maybe even give me a good scrub, make sure I’m real clean? Oh, and sweets, call me Bucky since we’re gonna get real close.”
There is no way that he is trying to have sex with you when his stink is filling up the entire section of the library. Anger bubbles up in your chest. You were here to help him and he is taking this whole thing like a joke. “I don’t have time for this, James. Unlike you, I actually care about my grades and don’t think with what’s in my pants.”
As you go to walk away, Bucky tries to grab your wrist, wanting to mess with you some more, but his motor skills haven’t come back yet and he was too slow. “C’mon, sweetheart, I was just messin’ with ya’, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Bucky holds his tongue about wanting to sniff your panties, not wanting to antagonize you further, but you just keep storming away and soon enough you’re out of Bucky’s sight.
Bucky huffs, annoyed that you walked away from him. Not because he actually wanted to talk to you, no of course not, it’s because no one has ever walked away from him. He walks away from girls after he fucked them, not the other way around. Grabbing his shirt, he lifts it up to smell it, turning his head away when the stench hits him. “Damn, no wonder she fucking sprinted away from you, Barnes.” Bucky stands up, almost falling over when gets lightheaded, the effect of drinking all night with no food catching up to him.
He slowly makes his way back to his dorm to shower and get out of his grimy clothes, feeling it stick to his skin in the worst way possible. He realizes that he only gave you his number and you didn’t give him yours so he has no way of texting you to see when your next session is. Maybe he would have made it on time if you texted him. It wasn’t his fault he was late. Honestly, you should have reminded him since you are supposed to be helping him.
The next day Bucky sees you in class and luckily he doesn’t reek this time. Instead of sitting in his usual seat, he goes down a few rows and plops down next to you. “So, sweetheart, I don’t mean to question your teaching methods, but seems to me like you’re a pretty lackluster teacher, runnin’ out on me like that.” You slowly turn your head, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man. How dare he say anything about you when he showed an hour late and proceeded to ogle you like a piece of meat?
“Excuse me? You wanna say that again, James? Because I don’t think I heard you right, because you better not have just said that I’m the problem.”
“I was just teasin’ ya, sweets. But if this is gonna work ya gotta help me a little bit. I mean, you’re the teacher and all.” You wanted to slap that smug smirk right off of his face.
“If this is going to work, James, then you need to try. I’m not going to pull my weight and yours so get that idea out of your head right now. I’ll be in the library at 4:30. If you’re so much as a minute late, I’ll tell the professor to get someone else to deal with you.” With that you got up and changed your seat, not wanting to be around him for another second.
Bucky felt his pants tighten again. He really needs to do something about your attitude, like fuck it out of you. It wasn’t a lie that he found you attractive and the thought of bending you over your desk and watching your ass bounce made his cock even harder. Bucky was contemplating asking the girl next to him for a handjob but the thought of her hands around his cock didn’t seem as good as what he thought your hands would feel like.
So instead of that, Bucky moved his seat to the back of the room so he could jerk off. A man has needs after all and Bucky has never had to worry about someone taking care of his boners until now.
Bucky decides not to push his luck and he actually shows up to the library on time, sans all of his books, but at least he’s there. He sees you in the corner, hunched over your laptop, typing away. You look cute too, with your tongue slightly passed your lips in concentration and eyebrows pulled together. Reading glasses perched on your nose. His sweetheart was working hard. What the fuck, Barnes? Bucky is taken aback by his own thoughts. He has never looked at a girl like that, when none of his thoughts are about how many different ways he could fuck them.
You roll your eyes when you see that Bucky didn’t bring anything with him, just the air of arrogance that seems to follow him wherever he goes. “Would ya’ look at the time, sweets? I’m early. See I happen to take my education very seriously.” You swear, if you roll your eyes anymore because of this man, they’re going to be stuck in the back of your skull.
“Yeah, yeah. What did the professor say you needed to work on?” You want to get straight to business. The faster you get this done the faster you can leave.
“Uh, well. I don’t exactly know what.” He tries to smile to soften the blow of his incompetence as he sits next to you, but you are almost vibrating in anger at how useless he is.
Huffing, you angrily click at your laptop, going to check the email your professor gave you, knowing that Bucky couldn’t be trusted to remember. “James, please tell me how your grade is a 13% and you’re still in college?” You had no idea that someone could have a grade that low and not be kicked out of the entire course.
“What! No way, let me see that.” You slide the laptop over to him, showing the proof of his negligence. “Well, damn, we have a lotta work to do then, sweetcheeks.” You ignore his comment and pull up his most recent essay, surprised that he turned it in at all, but not shocked to see how terribly he did.
“James, what did you even think this essay was about?”
“Uh, nature and care?” Your mouth drops open and you just stare at him for a minute, making him squirm under your gaze.
“James, this was an essay on Frankenstein, and you were supposed to analyze the difference between nature versus nurture. You wrote about the fucking trees!”
Bucky clearly didn’t understand the problem with his essay. “Yeah, that’s nature!”
“No, James. Nature as in how you are, like how you were born, not how you were raised. You were supposed to compare how Victor was nurtured all his life but was full of hate and spite, but the creature never had any care but he was benevolent until everyone who encountered him abhorred him!”
You were talking too fast and Bucky didn’t understand a word of what you said. You were using words that he had never heard of before. “So, you can fix it, right, sweets?” That same sly smile was on his lips. The look on your face was enough to make him backtrack. “Uh, so we can fix this right? You know, since we’re a team now.”
The resting bitch face you gave him had him shifting his eyes around the library, trying to avoid it. As soon as he did, however, he regretted his decision when his party hook up locked eyes with him. His eyes immediately went to your laptop, typing random words onto the document you pulled up, trying to seem busy.
“So, sweetcheeks, I’m picking up what you’re putting down. So Victor is a bitch and Frankenstein is cool.” The sound of your voice correcting him by calling the creature Frankenstein is drowned out by the shrill voice of his past trist.
“Hey, baby, haven’t seen you since that party. See you're working hard, keeping up that 4.0 I see.” She lets out a giggle and strokes his bicep. You raise an eyebrow but don’t say anything about his supposed GPA. You’re taking great pleasure in watching Bucky squirm, clearly not wanting anything to do with her now that he’s gotten his rocks off.
“And who is this? I bet my smart baby is helping her study, right? That’s so sweet of you to help out, really. Not everyone would want to help the ugly girl.” You wheeled your head back, about to bite her head off for daring to say shit about your looks when the foundation on her face was three shades lighter than her chest that was almost spilling out of her way too small top. Now you were never one to judge, but if someone comes for your looks, you come right back at them.
Before you got the chance to tear her a new one, Bucky interjected. “Ya’ know me, always helping out where I can, even those less fortunate than me.” His eyes were glued to her chest and you doubted that he even knew what she said to begin with. “Listen, Sandy, how about we catch up after I’m done and I can help you out too?”
The “sexy” look on her face dropped. “My name’s Sally, nevermind, you can have the ugly bitch!” Bucky cringes slightly at getting her name wrong again; he was never good with those. You don’t know why you were involved with their lovers quarrel, but a twinge of hurt sprouts in your heart. You didn’t even do anything to her and she had to come at you for your looks, and Bucky didn’t say a fucking word.
Grabbing your things, you pack them with more force than necessary, but you don’t give a fuck. “Sweetheart, where are ya’ going? Don’t listen to her, she’s just a bit jealous that I’m with ya’.”
How does he not see what he did wrong? You just glare at him before turning on your heels and walking away. There is no way that you’re going to spend anymore time or energy on him when he isn’t going to try. If it was anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t be so hurt, but for just one second you thought that Bucky wasn’t as bad as he made himself out to be.
“Sweets, c’mon, we still have that essay to write.” Was this man really following you down the hall? Yes, yes he was.
You spin around, eyes ablaze just to walk back up to him and push his chest. “You have an essay to write because I. Am. Done. You don’t give a fuck about this and I refuse to put myself through this for nothing.”
“What did I even do?” Now you were shaking with anger.
“What did you do? You haven’t tried at all, showing up late, trying to get me to fuck you, and worst of all, you let someone talk about me like that right in front of you and didn’t say a fucking word. You know, for a second there I thought you might be a nice guy, but you proved me the fuck wrong.”
Bucky had the nerve to look angry at what you said. Pushing you against the wall, he stares into your eyes. “Sweets, you’re really starting to piss me off. I’m fucking trying and it’s not good enough for ya’. I ought to fuck that attitude right outta ya’.” His eyes drop down to your lips and you’re too stunned to speak, not expecting him to push you up against a wall.
He was starting to scare you, getting into your space like this, but before you could tell him to back off his lips smashed against yours. It was rough and fast. Your lips stayed still but your eyes were wide open, shocked at what he was doing. You tried to push his chest, but he only got closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, one hand dropping to your ass.
You struggled to free one of your hands, but as soon as you did you slapped Bucky in the face as hard as you could given your angle. He pulls back, shock on his face at the fact that you hit him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing! What made you think that I wanted to kiss you, asshole!” You try to wipe your lips, wanting to get the memory of his lips against yours off.
Bucky just stood there, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know what came over him. You shook your head and practically ran away to your dorm so you could shower and wash his touch off of you. The next day you were glad you didn’t have class with Bucky, but the remains of his kiss were still lingering. You didn’t even want to help him to begin with and this is how it ends up? With him forcing you to kiss him.
You didn’t want to tell anyone what happened, just wanting to forget the whole thing. But you couldn’t avoid Bucky for long since you did have to share a class together. He tried to come up to you, but you saw it out of the corner of your eye and switched seats before he could reach you. The entire hour and a half lecture was spent making sure Bucky wasn’t making his way any closer to you.
Instead of rushing out when class was over, you made your way down to your professors desk. “Professor, could I talk to you in your office for a minute? It’s important.” He might be relaxed most of the time, but your professor always made sure everyone in his class felt like they could talk to him if needed.
Nodding his head, he leads you to his office and closes the door behind you, but not before you catch a glimpse of Bucky looking like a kicked puppy. He knew what you were about to talk about in that office, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Have a seat and tell me what’s going on. You’ve seemed off the past couple of lessons and I’m starting to get worried.”
You gulped, not knowing why it was so hard to say that you don’t want to tutor Bucky anymore. You didn’t want to let your professor down. Maybe it was because he reminded you of a father that you never had, but you just wanted to make him proud, showing him that you were capable of what he entrusted to you. He was looking at you, waiting to listen.
“Um, well, I have been distracted, but I think that it would be best for James to-” You can’t finish the rest of your sentence when you look at your professor. He trusted you to help Bucky and you can’t throw his trust away. “I think it would be best for James to have a more structured plan and I wanted to discuss that with you.”
The pride in his eyes was undeniable and you forgot about all the shit Bucky has put you through over the last few days. “Of course, what did you have in mind?” When you get out of his office, Bucky is still waiting, most likely missing the next party one of his friends is having.
You don’t even look at him, only grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him with you all the way down to the library. “Sweets, listen, I didn’t mean to make ya’ feel-” Turning around, you cut him off and he stumbles to a stop.
“No, I don’t want to hear it, James. You listen to me. We will meet in this library every other day at this exact time and you will keep your mouth shut and work. Do you hear me?” Bucky feels his pants tighten, but doesn’t say a word about it, slightly scared to talk back to you.
He just nods his head, finally noticing how beautiful you were. How your eyes held so much emotion in them, even when you didn't let it show on your face. Or how your lips form a small frown, the sides pulling down giving you an adorable pout. The small belmishes on your face, the tiny imperfections, created the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.
“A nod is not an answer, James. Use your words.” Bucky swears that he could have cum in his pants at that exact moment. No woman has ever been so dominant with him in or out of the bedroom.
He gulps before finding his voice again, hoarse but still working. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t let ya’ down again. I swear.” You stare into his eyes for a few seconds longer, determining if you believed him or not, giving Bucky more time to appreciate every part of your face he didn’t notice before.
You let go of his shirt and keep walking and Bucky follows you like a lost puppy, eyes downcast to your ass but not being able to see much with your hoodie going down past it. Instead of going to the corner of the library you were at last time, you walk to one of the private study rooms. “Sit and get your shit out.”
Bucky wastes no time following your direction, loving how brazen you were. You sit down next to him, giving him the opportunity to smell your perfume, the light scent intoxicating. “So, teach, what are we working on first?” His eyes are bright and attentive, taking in your facial expressions. He’s trying to butter you up, make you less angry at him.
“We have to fix your atrocious essay. It’s worth the most amount of points so hopefully it will bring your grade up.” You root through his binder, nothing organized at all. When you find it and pull it out you sigh, not knowing where to even start. “Okay, first things first, you need to at least understand what this is about.”
You explain everything to him, stopping to see if he is still following along, surprised to see him paying attention, going so far as to interrupt every so often to ask questions. For the first time since he got to college, Bucky is trying. The two of you sit there for a few hours, going over the essay line by line, fixing his mistakes. To your surprise, his grammar wasn’t too bad. At least he had something going for him.
The next few lessons go by the same way, Bucky working hard to not piss you off, but also to improve his grades. There were no flirty comments, no complaining about you being bossy. He was falling for you, something that Bucky never thought would happen to him.
He didn’t know how it started. Maybe it was that day you told him off, grabbing his shirt and putting him in his place. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. You were so beautiful and smart. God you were smart. It amazed him how easy it was for you to explain the assignments to him.
Bucky stopped going to parties, too. For once he didn’t find interest in getting shitfaced drunk and sticking his dick in a random girl; although it was giving him his first ever case of blue balls, it just felt wrong to have sex with another girl. He tried once at the last party he went to before he decided to stop going, but her hand on his cock didn’t make him pulse with need. Bucky ended up faking a phone call, saying that his friend was in the hospital and he needed to go see him.
As the weeks pass, Bucky can tell you’re getting soft on him, especially when you called him Bucky for the first time.
“C’mon, sweets, it can’t be that bad helpin’ me out.” Bucky leans back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered on his face.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, James because from where I stand, I’m losing IQ points by the minute with you.” You still try to sass him but Bucky can tell you’re fighting off a smile. The two of you talk like actual friends now - no more jabs at his promiscuity and no more ogling.
“Ah, I think it’s the other way around. I can feel myself gettin’ smarter with ya’.” Bucky puts his head on the table in front of you, moving so he could look at your face. His eyes glisten, showing the sweet man hidden underneath his tough exterior.
“Oh, give me a break, Bucky, you’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll do all the work for you.” You smile, looking down at him with the same adoration he’s giving you. His name leaving your lips felt right, smooth and sweet.
Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting his name to sound so damn good coming from you. He doesn’t say anything in fear of you going back to calling him James. Now that you’ve called him Bucky, he never wants to hear his first name come out of your mouth again. He wants to be your Bucky.
You can’t deny the feelings you’ve developed for Bucky. The man charming his way into your heart, but you know you can’t act on them. You doubt that Bucky has ever been in a serious relationship, only going for one night stands. Even though you’ve seen first hand how sweet of a man he can be, you still aren’t convinced that he would be interested in dating.
But Bucky doesn’t share the same sentiment. Today is the day he’s going to ask you on a date, hoping that you’ll say yes and give him a chance to prove himself to you, prove that he can be the man you deserve. Like always, you’re in the library before him, already set up and waiting. When you see him walking over you wave, the same gorgeous smile he fell for gracing your lips.
You could tell that he was nervous, stuttering and not meeting your eyes. “Bucky, what’s going on with you? Don’t tell me that you forgot to turn in the essay that we’ve been working on.”
Bucky smiles sheepishly at you. “No, sweets, I remembered to turn it in. I, uh, well, ya’ know. I got a question for ya’.” Mentally slapping himself in the face, Bucky blushed.
Staring at him suspiciously, you pushed your laptop away, giving him your full attention. “Well, sweets, you’ve been so good to me over these past few weeks. Really turned me around. I didn’t think that I would be able to do all this college shit, you know?” It wasn’t a question that he wanted you to answer. “You made me change my ways. I don’t want to go to parties and get blackout drunk anymore. To be honest, I’d much rather spend my time with you.”
Bucky takes a deep breath while you gaze at him with a blank expression on your face, making him even more nervous than before. “Doesn’t matter what we’re doing, s’long as it’s with you I don’t care.”
You cut off his rambling, afraid of where he is going. “Bucky, what are you trying to say to me?” You know what he is trying to say, but you don’t know how to react to it. It’s not like you haven’t imagined what it would be like to go out with him, but that’s just not the man he is.
“I’m tryin’ to be romantic right now, sweets.” He lets out a little giggle, playing with his hands to try to calm himself down. “What I’m tryin’ to say is, would you like to go on a date with me?” Bucky feels his heart drop when you only stare at him, not even blinking. His knee starts to bounce, the anticipation becoming too much for him.
You sigh, thinking about what to say to him. The two of you have a good friendship, one that you never thought you would have, but starting a relationship with him is terrifying. “Bucky, listen.” Just from the way you started your sentence, Bucky regrets saying anything. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I really do, but I can’t deny that your past scares me.”
“What do you mean, sweets?” For a man so observant, he can be a little dumb.
“You don’t do relationships, Bucky. You’re used to no strings attached and dating includes a lot of strings.” Bucky clenches his jaw, of course his past would come back to bite him in the ass.
“I don’t want no strings attached anymore. I want to be with you and only you.” You close your eyes, putting your head down slightly. You want to believe him, you really do, but you don’t want to get your heart broken. Gently, Bucky’s hand grabs your chin, moving you to face him. “Let me prove myself to you, sweets, just give me a chance and if I blow it I give you full permission to kick my ass.”
That brings a small smile to your lips, but you’re still not convinced. “What if you get bored of me? Being with the same person over and over again?” Bucky’s heart aches at your words, not used to seeing you unsure of yourself. How could he ever get tired of you? He knows that he is the one who caused your insecurities. If he didn’t sleep around as much as he did, then you wouldn’t worry about his loyalty.
“Sweetheart, ever since you put me in my place, I haven’t touched another woman, can’t even think about someone who isn’t you touchin’ me. Just one chance is all I’m askin’ and I promise that I will show you how much I care.”
Closing your eyes, you lean into his warm palm, letting yourself feel him. His eyes hold so much vulnerability and you feel yourself losing the ability to say no to him. “Just one chance, Barnes. And if you hurt me I swear to God.” You’ve never seen Bucky smile so wide, pure joy adorning his face.
The smile never left his face, only growing wider. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweets. What about you come over to my dorm and we can have a movie night? Maybe you could even stay over?” He looks sheepish, worried you’ll turn him down. At the quirk of your brow he rushes to explain himself. “Not like that! Just to hang out.”
You head back to your dorm to get a change of clothes while Bucky waits outside so he could walk with you back to his. As soon as you walk out, he is rushing to grab your bag from you, insisting that he carries it. “Bucky, I can carry my own bag, you know. I’m capable of that much.” He loves your little attitude, never accepting his help.
Throwing an arm over your shoulder, Bucky leads you away, not giving you your bag back. His dorm is just what you expect from a college frat boy: trash can overflowing, clothes on the floor, food left out, bed a complete mess. Scratching the back of his neck, Bucky shyly looks at you. You decide to only give him a little bit of grief for the mess. “Am I allowed on the bed or have you fucked someone here?”
Bucky’s eyes widen, frantically shaking his head. “No, never brought anyone back to my dorm.” Toeing your shoes off, you ask him where the bathroom is, changing your clothes before you flop onto the bed, letting yourself sink into the fluffy mattress. For a minute, Bucky feels his brain malfunction. The sight of you in his bed is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He would give his left arm to have you naked right now, his cock buried deep inside you, your pussy pulsing around his cock, moaning when he rubs little circles on your clit.
“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna put on a movie, loverboy?” Shaking his head, Bucky nods and heads over to grab his laptop before climbing into bed, leaving space in between the two of you in case you didn’t want to be too close. “I didn’t know that hanging off the side of the bed was your style, but if you want to leave me to freeze feel free to do so.”
Bucky doesn’t know how to act around you, this whole dating thing is uncharted territory for him. He just moves over, your thigh pressed to his. Bucky had to will his cock to not get hard, the softness of your body was making it hard to think straight. The fact that he’s only jerked off for the past month isn’t helping either.
You move to get more comfortable, which so happens to include you snuggling into his side, curling your arms around his bicep. Bucky has no clue what the movie is about, the image of all the things he wants to do to you in this bed are too much for him. He doesn’t know what the feeling passing over him is. He likes this. He likes the feeling of your body pressed to his. Not in a sexual way, although he wouldn’t mind that either, but in a completely innocent way. Bucky never stayed around after he came, always getting dressed and leaving. He’s never had a woman press their body against his just to find comfort.
Somehow, Bucky is following along with the plot of the movie, but he knows that it was just because of how you interacted with all the characters like they could hear you. Bucky would usually hate that, he hates when people talk through movies, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. If anything, he was glad that you kept talking, giving him the opportunity to hear your voice.
Halfway through the movie you stop talking. When Bucky looks down he sees that you fell asleep on his chest. Of course at that moment Bucky’s bladder decided that he needed to pee urgently. He tried to hold off for as long as he could, focusing on the part of your mouth and the bit of drool leaking from it. But try as he might, he needed to use the bathroom.
He tried to maneuver you to not disturb your sleep but you woke up as soon as he moved. “Where you going?” Shit, he’s going to have to pee with a boner because your sleepy voice sent blood right to his cock.
“Just gotta take a leak, be right back.” You just snuggle deeper into the pillows, humming in understandment. Bucky has to put one hand on the wall in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet at an awkward angle trying to push his erection down with his other hand so he could pee. It took a bit of work, but he was able to go without making a mess. Now, Bucky might be a lot of things, but unhygienic isn’t one of them and before he goes back to bed he washes his hands.
Once he walks back into the room he sees that you’re more awake than before but still laying in bed. He hits the lightswitch on his way over and turns on the lamp, letting the soft glow illuminate your features. “What took you so long? Almost fell back asleep.”
Before he could answer, you wrap your body around his and feel his hard cock through his sweats. Pulling away slightly, your face gets hot. That’s why he took so long. “Shit, sweets, I’m sorry. It’s just, well, you were in my bed, and you look so gorgeous. Not that I’m expecting anything! But the image of you is fucking hot. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.”
Your giggle catches him by surprise. “It’s okay, Bucky. Can’t imagine going from having sex all the time to being abstinent for a month.” With the soft glow of the lamp, you see Bucky’s blush. “Just don’t think I’m going to fix it for you though.” He shakes his head and chuckles lowly, pulling you back into him, keeping his pelvis away from yours even though his dick was begging for release.
Bucky doesn’t say anything back, but his hand moves to your waist, resting over your shirt. His thumb rubs small circles before he trails his hand up to your ribs and you can feel the heat of his palm through your shirt. For a few minutes he keeps his hand there, feeling your heartbeat, all the while moving his face closer.
He can feel your heartbeat pick up the closer he gets. You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and inviting. You’ve never been this close to his face, seeing all of his freckles up close. You don’t want him to pull away, not when your whole body is thrumming with need. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that Bucky could be this gentle.
He moves his hand up to your arm, delicately trailing his fingertips up and down, giving you goosebumps. Bucky is waiting for you to make the first move this time. The first time he kissed you was crass and unwarranted. The little gasp that leaves your lips when his palm rests on your cheek makes his cock jump.
Eyes fluttering shut, you lean in first. His plump lips meet yours and you moan into his mouth, not expecting his lips to be so soft and warm. You move your hands to his chest, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel his whole body pressed to yours. You ignore the erection pressed against your stomach, completely lost in the sensation of his mouth on yours.
Bucky frees his other hand from under him and wraps it around your waist, pulling you on top of him. The pressure of his hand caused you to arch your back, gasping when your core meets his hard dick. Bucky doesn’t waste the opportunity to put his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste. He has to use every bit of self control in his body not to buck his hips up, but he doesn’t have to because you grind down onto him, searching for friction. The harder you kiss him, the more his will slips from him and he was the first to break the kiss, a trail of saliva still connecting you to him.
Both of you gasp for breath, having deprived yourselves of oxygen for too long. “Why’d you stop?” God, you were perfect. Eyes wide, pupils blown, kiss swollen lips - Bucky knew that he wanted to keep you like this all the time, having you look at him like that was addicting and he was already hooked.
“If we keep going I won’t be able to control myself and I told you that I’m going to prove to you that I’m in this. That I don’t want you just for sex. I’m going to treat you right, make sure you know how much I care first.” You have to bite your lip to stop the moan leaving you. That was the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. The fact that Bucky, the resident fuckboy, is denying sex because he wants to show you what you mean to him first has your cunt clenching around nothing.
You can’t think of words to convey how much that means to you, so you just slam your lips against his, kissing him with as much passion as you possibly could. Bucky has to use every morsel of restraint to move you off of him. “Sweets, you’re going to kill me with this.” The giggle you let out makes leaving his throbbing dick alone worth it, but you take pity on him and ask if he wants to go to the bathroom to fix his issue.
At first he declines, but he eventually caves and goes into the bathroom, shuts the door and handles his business. You scroll on your phone for a bit but you’re surprised when he comes back so fast. “Loverboy, this better not be a sign that you don’t last in bed, because when we do have sex, I want you to fuck me properly.”
As he flops back down on the bed, he groans. When, you said when, not if, when. “Sweets, if I hadn’t just came my dick would be rock hard again. You can’t say shit like that to me.” He rolls over, stradling you. “And sweets, I promise you, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name.”
You just raise your eyebrows, choosing to tease him a bit. “Well, based on the time you spent touching yourself, I’m not convinced. Hope your reputation hasn’t gone to your head because I’ll be honest if you can’t fuck me right.”
Bucky squints his eyes at you before leaning down, like he was going to kiss you again, but at the last moment, he pulls back and tickles your sides. Your laughter is easily one of his favorite sounds. “Bucky! Stop or else I’ll never have sex with you.” That makes him pause, even though he knew it was an empty threat and lays back down next to you.
“Okay, okay, sweets, I’ll leave you be. But I wouldn’t be opposed to you tickling me.”
“What, is this a kink that you have, being tickled?” He scrunches his nose while he laughs, knowing what he was going to say next.
“No, but I would love it if you would tickle my pickle.” He smirks like it was the best joke ever told, proud of himself. You groan and turn away from him so he can’t see your smile. “C’mon, sweets, that was a good one.”
If you turn around you know you’ll see his puppy dog eyes. “Buck, that was the worst joke in the history of jokes.”
“Ah, ah, I can hear your smile. You loved it.” You don’t respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you liked his joke. It’s silent for a moment and you are about to turn back around but Bucky talks before you can. “Do you mind if we spoon? I mean, you don’t have to stay overnight, but if you want to, ya’ know.”
“Well, it is pretty cold outside, and I would hate to have to walk all the way back. And who knows, I could freeze to death at my dorm. Better be safe than sorry.” Bucky knows what you're doing and plays along.
“Of course, sweets, can’t have my girl freeze. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t keep my girl warm.” You skooch back, pressing against his chest and his arms circle your waist, chin resting on your head. “Night, sweets, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Only if I don’t run away, loverboy.” You feel the vibrations of his chest as he chuckles before leaning back to turn the lamp off, falling asleep with your soft body pressed to his.
Over the next few months, Bucky proves himself to be the perfect boyfriend, always asking you how your day was, remembering all the little things about you, kissing you and holding your hand around campus, not giving a single fuck who saw the two of you. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit he was whipped.
“Buck, c’mon, this is the best fucking party of the year, you have to go. It’s gonna be packed with girls in slutty costumes, Halloween man, everyone wants to fuck everyone.” Bucky only rolls his eyes at Steve.
“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, parties aren’t for me anymore. Hangovers suck dick and I have better things to do in my free time.” Steve doesn’t seem to understand how much Bucky loved you. He’s never said it, at least not yet.
“Like what, hanging out with the nerd who hasn’t put out in three months? C’mon, I know you want some pussy and it’s gonna be on a fucking platter tonight.” Bucky sees red, not giving a shit that Steve is his best friend. No one talks about his girl like that, no one.
“Steve, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but you fucking know how much I care about her. If I ever hear you call her that shit again, I’ll put you in the fucking hospital. I couldn’t give less of a shit about how long I have to wait for her to know that I don’t just want a pussy to fuck, not anymore. I’m done with the parties and the random girls, okay. So get that through your thick skull.”
He doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, storming out of Steve’s dorm and walking away, not even caring where he was headed. He doesn’t know how he got there, but he stands outside of your door, raising his hand to knock. You always answer the door for him and this time is no different.
“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You were so tuned into him, reading him like a book. Without waiting you pull him into your dorm, shutting and locking the door behind him, leading him to your bed. His jaw was clenched, eyes set. If he was a cartoon, steam would be pouring from his ears.
“Fucking Steve.” He kicks off his shoes and gets comfortable in your bed, you following right after. You would go anywhere he goes.
Cuddling up to him, you pull him into you and his muscles relax at your touch, body responding to yours without thought. “What about Steve? You two get into a fight?” You never really liked Steve, but he was Bucky’s friend and you would listen to whatever he had to say about Steve. He was just like Bucky was before he met you.
“Being a fucking asshole. You wanna know what he said to me?” Bucky doesn’t wait for you to answer, only turning his head to see you better before continuing. “Wanted me to go to the Halloween party tonight, talking about all the girls that want to fuck as if he doesn’t know that I’m with you.” That doesn’t seem as bad as you thought, thinking that they got into a fist fight. It doesn’t surprise you that Steve was still trying to convince Bucky to go back to his playboy ways.
But Bucky wasn’t finished. “He had the fucking nerve to say that I should go because we haven’t had sex yet, like I give a shit about that. Fucking disrespected you right to my face.” You couldn’t deny that you were turned on by the fact that Bucky was defending your honor even when you weren’t there, not letting anyone bad mouth you.
“And what did you say, Buck?” Fuck, your voice was breathing, heartrate picking up. You wanted to hear what he said, how he told his best friend off. Bucky didn’t seem to pick up on your arousal, still too heated from his argument.
“Fucking told his ass that if he ever says that shit again, I’ll fuck him up. No one talks about my girl like that, don’t give a shit who it is.” You swear you could cum right now. Why was that so hot? Maybe it was because you’ve never had a man that didn’t let anyone disrespect you, or maybe you just liked to see him mad.
“I want you, Bucky. Want you to fuck me.” It just comes out, shocking the both of you. Bucky whips his head around, eyes as wide as your own.
“What?”
“I want you to fuck me. I’m ready, know you don’t just want to use me.” Bucky’s dick is rock hard in seconds, all the anger in his body disapparating instantly.
“Are you sure you want this, sweets? Because I have no problem waiting.” Throughout the course of your dating, Bucky can’t count the amount of times that he’s been hard and left his cock untouched. It’s gotten to the point where the two of you knew he was going to get hard when he was around you, not that it bothered you, knowing how much you were affecting him, but Bucky’s used to ignoring his erection now and he has no problem waiting for it to go away if you don’t want to have sex with him.
“Yes, Bucky, I think I’ve made you wait long enough. And to be honest, if I make you wait any longer I don’t think you’ll last more than a minute.” The mouth on you marvels Bucky every time.
“Excuse me, sweets, but I’ll have you know I’m no two pump chump.” You only raise an eyebrow and Bucky huffs before kissing you again. It’s slow and hot. Bucky’s never kissed like this before, but with you he just can’t help but savor the feeling of your lips on his. He doesn’t want to rush, if he could he would kiss you forever, stuck in limbo, floating with only your touch to ground him.
You whine, hands pulling at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. Bucky moves back, smirking at you. “Desperate, aren’t we? Just wanna feel me ‘gainst you, huh?” Teasing hasn’t been something Bucky really did, always hurrying to the main event, but he wants to make you crave him as much as he does you.
The glare you give him holds no heat, not able to be mad at him when he’s looking so damn hot above you. Bucky relents, just this once, and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach. He sucks a breath in through his teeth when your hands land on his abs. “Holy hell, woman! Your hands are fucking ice cubes!” You giggle but don’t pull away, sitting up and moving your hands across his back, slipping them into his sweats, finding his bare ass and squeezing.
“Well, loverboy, warm them up for me.” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief, chuckling at you. He takes your hands out of his pants and lays you back down, letting his warm palms circle the soft skin of your belly under your shirt.
“Can I take this off, sweetheart? Gonna let me see those pretty tits?” Your cunt pulses at his words. Men that you’ve been with before haven’t talked to you like this, making you yearn for them.
“I mean, you can take it off but they’re not that pretty.” Bucky wheels his head back, clearly offended by your statement. For the first time, you shy away from his gaze. You weren’t exactly insecure about your body, but you also weren’t the most confident and you doubt that your body is better than the surplus of girls Bucky’s had.
“I beg your fucking pardon, sweets. I’m gonna need you to run that by me again.” Bucky lowers his face to yours, and you’re sure he is looking right through you.
“Well, I doubt they’re the best pair you’ve seen, Buck. Don’t roll your eyes at me either.” You catch the eye roll Bucky gave you. He wasn’t rolling his eyes at you, but rather the words you were saying.
“I can’t believe my ears, sweets. The smartest girl I’ve ever met is saying what is quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve heard. And that’s coming from the guy who is friends with Sam.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes and instead of saying anything back to him, you grab the bottom of your shirt and take it off, revealing your naked chest to him, foregoing a bra.
Like any man, Bucky gets distracted by the sight of your breasts on display for him. It takes him a second, but he shakes his head and comes back from his daze. “Fuck, sweetheart, you got the prettiest set of tits I’ve ever fuckin’ seen. Fucking perfect.” Bucky isn’t lying either, he really does think that you’re the most beautiful woman on the entire planet, every part of your body is perfection. “Should be a model, sweets, let everyone see how gorgeous you are.”
You feel the heat creep up your neck and rest on your cheeks. You aren’t used to being looked at like this. The look he’s giving you is so much different from when you first started working with him. It’s not filled with lust, although you can tell it’s there, but filled with awe and love. “Uh, uh, don’t look away from me. Want you to look at me while I make you cum.”
He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before moving down to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot that he found the first time you made out. The little gasps and whines that leave your lips has his cock begging to be touched, but right now it isn’t about him, it’s about you.
You arch your back, pressing your soft breasts against his solid chest, drawing his attention away from your neck and to your tits. Trailing kisses down your chest, he swirls his tongue around your right breast, purposely avoiding your sensitive nipple. He doesn’t listen to any of your protests so you take matters into your own hands and grab a fistfull of his hair and jerk his head to where you want him to be.
The moan that leaves Bucky is pornographic, having no idea he liked his hair pulled that much. Bucky abides and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. “Oh, Bucky, just like that, feels good.” Bucky has to buck his hips into yours, never hearing something so sexy in all his life.
His other hand comes up to grab your other breast, rolling your nipple in between his fingers, every so often switching to give each one the attention they deserve. The longer he plays with your breasts, the more you feel your panties soak and you can’t take it anymore, needing some type of release.
Bucky pulls away with a pop, the cool air hitting your wet nipples makes you gasp. “Baby, I need you to touch me.” You can sense the words about to leave his mouth and answer his unspoken question. “Touch my pussy.”
Letting out a deep groan, Bucky grabs the hem of your sleep shorts, pulling them and your panties down when you nod. Your hand jets down to cover your pussy when you remember that you haven’t shaved, not expecting to have sex with Bucky tonight. “Wait, I have hair right now, maybe we shouldn’t.”
Bucky just blinks at you. He can’t believe that you would deprive him of your pussy because of a little hair. “Sweets, I have been a patient man, but I swear to God if you don’t move your hand and let me see my pretty pussy I’m going to lose my mind. You really think I give a shit if you have some fucking hair?”
You just smile sheepishly at him before removing your hand. “There she is. Look at her, so beautiful ain’t she? Yeah, she’s dripping for me, knows who she belongs to.” Fuck, you didn’t expect him to be so enamored with your cunt. “Ya gonna let me touch my pretty girl?”
You gulp before giving a breathy yes and Bucky spreads your legs a little wider and brings his right hand up to your pussy lips, gently tracing them making you twitch and giggle. “Bucky, that tickles.” Bucky smiles and his nose scrunches before his thumb goes from your hole up to your clit. “Fuck, Bucky, rub my clit.”
He just stops his movement, resting his thumb on your bundle of nerves. “This is where I’m in charge, sweets, and I don’t think that was a very polite way of talking to the man who is touching you.” You huff, not used to taking orders from anyone, but you want him to keep touching you so you relent.
“Will you please, rub my clit, loverboy.”
Bucky clicks his tongue at you. “Now, sweets, that didn’t sound very genuine but I’ll let it slide this time because I want to see this pretty pussy soak my sheets.”
He starts to rub your clit from side to side, making you jerk your hips away. “Don’t fucking DJ my cunt. Circles, Buck, circles. You’re making me lose faith in you, babe.” Heat makes its way up his neck, his selfishness finally catching up to him. He doesn’t say anything, but switches up his method to what you said and you giggle at his confidence wavering.
His little slip up doesn’t slow him down, though, quickly finding the pace and pressure that seems to work best and draws those pretty sounds from your lips. Bucky knows that he isn’t going to be able to get enough of this, of you laid out on his bed consumed by the pleasure he is giving you.
“You want my fingers inside ya? Cause I wanna feel my pretty girl cum around my fingers.” You can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t remember if you’ve ever gotten to the edge this fast. All you can do is nod, moans and gasps the only sounds leaving your lips.
When his first finger slips inside you, your back arches and somehow the moans leaving you get even sexier and Bucky slips another finger in. “That’s it, pretty girl, suck my fingers in. Doing so good for me, knew you’d treat me so well. Don’t ya think, sweets?” The way he talks to your pussy has you leaking more arousal out.
“Please, Bucky, don’t stop, keep going just like that. M’gonna cum.”
A jolt of excitement shoots up Bucky’s spine. He wanted to see you cum so bad. Using every bit of self control in his body not to speed up, Bucky kept the same pace, curling his fingers to find that spongy patch. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, sweets, need to feel my pretty girl cum on my fingers. Promise I’ll feed her my cock after.”
Bucky groans with each clench of your cunt around his fingers, more desperate than you for your orgasm. “C’mon, sweets, give it to me. Can feel your clit pulsing. Be my good girl and give me what I want.” That was all you needed to fall off the edge, trusting that Bucky would catch you.
Bucky’s sure that the sight of you cumming is the greatest thing in the world. He couldn’t dream of fucking you and not seeing you fall apart for him. He never stops moving his fingers, riding out your orgasm, only relenting when you push his hand away. It takes a few minutes, but you come back down, an open mouth smile on your face, eyes closed and Bucky falls even harder for you.
Blindly, you search for his pants, wanting to see his cock. “Bring him out, Buck, wanna see my new friend.” If it wasn’t for the orgasm he just gave you, Bucky would have been positive that you were drunk off your ass. Doubling over, Bucky cackles, not expecting to hear that come out of your mouth. “Don’t you laugh at me, loverboy, know your cock is huge. Let me meet him. Wanna put him in my mouth.” You give him a lopsided smirk.
“Don’t worry, sweets, you can meet him.” Bucky struggles to hold back his laugh. In all fairness, he did refer to your pussy as her, but the thought of you calling his dick him is hilarious. Nonetheless, Bucky strips the rest of his clothes off and you practically drool at the sight of his dick.
A little over average length, but thick as hell. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a cock that thick and you know he is going to destroy your cunt. Under his cock, his balls were heavy and full, the amount of cum in there building up just for you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him into you and Bucky has to catch himself with his arms so he doesn’t crush you with his weight.
You both gasp when his bare cock rubs against your soaking cunt. Bucky has to close his eyes and think about all the assignments he still has to complete to stop himself from cumming on the spot. “Want it inside me, please, Buck, give it to me.” Bucky is near the verge of crying when you grind your cunt on him.
All you want is for him to fuck you until you can’t see straight and so does Bucky, but it takes everything in him to put away, knowing that the next words to come out of his mouth aren’t going to be sexy. “Hold on, sweets. I have to get a condom first.”
You don’t like that one bit, wanting to feel him inside you with no barrier. “Don’t need one, ‘m on the pill.” That has Bucky about to cum all over his sheets and your pussy. He knows that he needs to be responsible, not only for him, but for you too.
“Sweets, I, well, I haven’t been tested since my last partner. I’ve never done it without a condom, but I don’t want to risk it until I get tested.” He hangs his head in shame, yet again his promiscuity is coming back to bite him in the ass. What he wouldn’t give to feel your sopping cunt choke his dick, hell only knows, but his statement seems to sober you up.
“Oh, yeah, that’s probably for the best.” You can’t meet his eyes, the conversation awkward enough even if you weren’t about to fuck. Bucky takes in a deep breath and huffs out, clearly not knowing what to do next so you decide to lighten the mood. “Well, loverboy, you better wrap that bad boy up so you can prove that you can actually fuck me like you said you would.”
You got Bucky to crack a smile before he gave a small smack to your thigh and walked over to his nightstand to get a condom. You wolf whistled when you saw his toned ass. “Damn, baby, you’ve been holding out on me?”
Bucky wheels around and says some clever retort, but you don’t hear it, not when his cock swings around with him, bobbing at the sudden change of direction. Not only that, but with each step he takes, his dick bounces up and down. “Sweetheart, it’s all yours. Stare all you want but close your mouth before I put somethin’ in there.”
Bucky rolls the condom down his length, giving it a few pumps while he admires you laid out on his bed, naked and ready for him to fuck you. Before he climbs back into bed, you stop him. “Wait, loverboy, do a little spin for me, let me see him move.”
Throwing his head back, Bucky lets out a belly laugh, and he just so happens to make his cock and balls bounce. “C’mon, s’all I want.” When he calms down, Bucky relents and circles his hips a few times, his cock, although stiff, moves with his hips and you have to close your legs to try to relieve the ache in your core. “Fuck, need you now, Bucky.”
“Yeah, sweets, you need my cock? Does my pretty girl need to be stuffed with my cock?” No smart retort comes to your mind, only the need to have him fill you up. It’s been way too long since you’ve had sex and you know Bucky’s cock is going to ruin you for anyone else.
“Please, Buck.” Fuck, the way you’re looking at him, with wide, pleading eyes, and a pout on your lips has Bucky’s dick pulsing. He climbs on the bed, in between your legs. “How do you want me?” You’ve overheard Bucky relive his one night stands more than once in class, before he fell for you. He was always adamant that the only positions worth doing were the ones where he could see the girl’s ass, and how boring positions where he could see her face were.
Bucky stares at you for a second, cupping your face and leaning down to give you a tender kiss. “Want you just like this, sweets, wanna see you.” You swallow hard, willing yourself not to cry at how intimate he’s being. Despite your best efforts, tears well up in your eyes, making Bucky panic.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” His eyes hold so much love, something Bucky never thought he would feel for a partner. You wrap your legs and arms around him, clinging like a koala.
“Not a damn thing, Buck, just love you. Love you so fucking much it hurts.” Bucky feels his heart swell. If this is what it felt like to love and be loved, Bucky would spend the rest of his life trying to keep you, show you how perfect you are, love you as hard as he can and then some.
“Sweetheart, I can’t even put into words how much I fucking love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, made me change from the asshole I was.” Bucky had his own tears welling up in his waterline.
“Buck, make love to me, show me how much you love me.” Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his dick, drawing a gasp from his lips, and line him up with your pussy. He presses his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes as he pushes in, cock stretching your cunt with every inch.
Crashing his lips into yours, Bucky tries to hide his moan, whiny and long, never feeling such intense pleasure. Neither of you can kiss, just gasping into the other’s mouth. When his hips are flush with yours, balls resting against your ass, Bucky has to stop. If he moves he’ll cum; he knows it. He’s never felt like he would cum on the first stroke, but the way your cunt hugs him has him doubting that he’ll last more than a few minutes.
You can’t handle it, the stretch of his cock almost too much, but you needed him to move. “Please, baby, move, need it.” The moan that leaves him is sinful and you involuntarily clench around him.
“Sweets, can’t. Need a minute.” His arms go to your waist, and he pulls you up, groaning when his cock shifts deeper inside you, and sits with his back against the headboard, keeping you wrapped in his arms, bodies pressed so close together you could feel every muscle. Bucky closes his eyes, resting his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and relishing in the intimacy of the moment, with your breasts squished against his chest, feeling every breath you take, loving your soft hands scratching his scalp.
“Do this with all the girls, loverboy?” The breathiness in your voice has his cock pulsing against your walls.
“Never, sweetheart, never. You feel so fucking good.” Bucky sounded like he was about to cry with how hard he was trying not to cum.
You wanted him to fuck you, pussy leaking down his thighs. You decided that if you annoy him enough he might just fuck you dumb. “Guess I was right then, loverboy can’t last in bed. Gonna tell everyone how I broke your cock, how fast you came for me.”
That seemed to strike a nerve and Bucky rolled over, pining you to the bed with his body. You gasped at the quick motion and the jostle of his cock. “Sweets, now is not the time to tease me. Use your mouth for something better.” He could already hear your, like what, so he cut you off before you could get anything out. “Like moaning my name while I fuck you.”
He doesn’t pull his cock out far, wanting to stay as close to you as possible. Pushing back in, he groans, having to will himself not to cum. You feel so good, pussy wrapped around him perfectly. “Sweets, love you so much, never wanna leave this pussy.” You whine, a jolt of pleasure going through your clit at his words.
“Love you too, Buck. Want to stay like this forever, want you.” It’s Bucky’s turn to whine, rutting into you, the coarse curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, the sensation of your breasts pressed to him new to him.
He can’t help it, you just look too pretty underneath him, grabbing both of your hands in his, lacing them together and putting them above your head and pressing his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes. His lips meet yours, both of your whines and moans mix together.
The constant roll of his hips is pushing you to the edge faster than ever before. You take one of your hands, still laced with his, and place it over his heart, feeling the erratic beat. The coil in your stomach is curling tighter and tighter. “C’mon, sweets, can feel you clenching ‘round me. Give it to me, cum on my cock.”
Bucky is doing his best to hold on, wanting this moment to last, to relish in the bubble the two of you have created. His moans get louder, his own orgasm creeping up on him. Wiggling your other hand out of his grasp, you run your fingers over the back of his head, crashing your lips on his before you fall off the edge, eyes rolling back and body quivering, his body the only thing grounding you.
He had to pull out, your pussy almost milking his cum out, but he didn’t want to cum just yet. He wants to make you cum again, this time while he looks at your face, seeing it scrunch up in pleasure. You didn’t seem too happy at him for pulling out, needing him to be as close as possible. “Keep fucking me, Bucky. I need you to cum for me.”
Bucky groans before guiding his cock back home, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels your pussy somehow got even tighter. Not wasting any time, he starts thrusting again, this time much faster, still rolling his hips, hitting your sweet spot every time.
Pulling his body away from yours, Bucky sits up, resting your thighs over his, keeping his dick inside of you, not missing a single thrust. With the new position, he can see your breasts bounce, but more importantly, how beautiful your face looks screwed in ecstasy. “So fucking beautiful for me, sweets. Love the way your pretty tits jiggle, look gorgeous when your getting fucked dumb on my cock, gonna keep you like this all the time.”
In this position, your clit is being neglected so you reach one hand down, desperate to cum again. Bucky quickly swats your hand away, replacing it with his own. “Ah, ah, I’m gonna make my girl cum. Just want you to lay there and look pretty for me. Can you do that for me?” You just moan in response, thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit, bringing you to the edge again. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Yes! I’ll do anything you want.” You feel Bucky’s cock pulsing inside of you, thrusts becoming sloppy and losing their rhythm. “Cum for me, Bucky, fill me up with your cum.” You both know that he is wearing a condom, but the thought of his cum rushing into your pussy, stuffing you to the brim, is enough to have Bucky emptying his balls into the rubber, groaning deep, almost whining your name.
He can’t stop thrusting into you, still rubbing your clit, desperate for you to cum around him. “Sweets, so much fucking cum for you, know you can take it. Fuck, cum for me, milk my cock, get every drop out.” Bucky was right, you looked absolutely divine when you came. At that moment you’ve never looked prettier.
Bucky never felt an orgasm that intense, leaving him weak in the knees. Collapsing onto your chest, not able to hold his own weight up. You huff, air being pushed out of your lungs, but you don’t mind, his weight soothing, helping to bring you back down from the highs of your orgasms. You both lay there, hands stroking each other until you fully come back to reality.
“Gonna pull out, sweets, okay?” Bucky has never had his cock in a girl this long after he’s came, and it was getting too sensitive. Words don’t come to mind and you just nod your head dumbly, both of you hissing at the sensation.
Without a word, Bucky gets up and heads to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. All of a sudden tears well up in your eyes, body cold and craving his touch. He’s been so sweet to you for the past months, proving that he didn’t just want sex with you, but now he’s walking away as soon as you’re done.
The buzzing of your body goes away, dread filling you. Rolling over, you burrito yourself under the covers, facing away from the bathroom, not able to stop the tears from streaming down your face. It only takes a few minutes, but to you it feels like a lifetime, until Bucky comes back, sliding under the covers himself.
“So, sweets, what do ya’ want to do? I could go for a bite to eat myself. Don’t know when the last time you ate was though.” Bucky, on the other hand, was basking in the afterglow of the best sex of his life, already thinking about all the things he could do with you, all the ways he could get you to cum for him.
When you don’t respond right away, Bucky thinks you fell asleep. Leaving a kiss to the back of your head, he gets up and puts his sweats on, not bothering with anything else and heads to your kitchen. He doesn’t feel like making a full meal so he decides to just make a quick sandwich and head back to bed after eating.
You burst into full blown sobs when Bucky leaves, assuming that he left your dorm all together, having no idea that he was just outside. How could you have been so stupid to think that he really wanted you? Bucky goes to take a bite out of his snack when he hears your sobs, immediately thinking the worst - he hurt you, did something you didn’t like.
Rushing back into the room, Bucky climbs back into bed, rolling you over without warning. “What are you still doing here? Thought you left?” How could you ever think that he would leave you?
“No, sweets, just went to make a sandwich. What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Bucky has never been so fucking scared in all his life, terrified that he hurt you.
“Thought you left after you got what you wanted. You just left me in the bed after we were done.” Bucky’s eyes widened, not expecting you to say that. He doesn’t know what he did wrong. He’s never stuck around after sex, confused at what’s going on with you.
“Sweets, I’m so sorry that I made you think that, but I don’t know what’s going on. Need you to talk to me. I don’t want you to think I don’t care.” Your bottom lip wobbled, of course he didn’t know about aftercare. It wasn’t his fault that he never had a relationship like this. It meant so much to you that he was asking how to fix his mistake.
“I get really sensitive after sex. It’s annoying actually, but I need to be held and told that you still love me.” You avoid his gaze, more tears making their way down your face, Bucky wiping them away. How could his perfect girl think that her needs were annoying or an inconvenience to him.
“Oh, sweetheart, come here.” Bucky pulls you into his lap, almost petting your hair. “You did so good for me, you know that? I love you so fucking much and nothing is going to change that, okay?” He pulls your head back to look into your eyes.
“It’s just that my last boyfriend said that he couldn’t look at me after sex, said he couldn’t see me the same way.” What in the fuck.
“Sweetheart, I need you to understand that I know that I’m the fucking luckiest man alive to be able to be with you any way you let me. When I look at you I’m so proud to call you mine.”
You bury your head in his shoulder, letting him hold you and whisper sweet words in your ear. For his first time doing aftercare, Bucky is doing great and soon you come all the way down. Pulling away from him you giggle. “Love you too, Buck. Thank you for that. I know some men don’t care about that. After they get what they want they leave.” Bucky hangs his head in shame, thinking about all the girls he made feel like they were worthless. “I know that you did the same thing, but the fact that you were so willing to change means a lot to me.”
Bucky knows that there’s a lot he has to learn about being in a relationship, but he wants to learn it all to be the man you deserve. He is going to treat you like the goddess you are for the rest of his life, he knows it, already planning on picking out a ring, because he’s gonna love you for a long, long time.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes smut#bucky x you#bucky imagine#bucky smut#sebastian stan x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#fuckboy!bucky#bucky x f!reader#bucky fluff
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
I love a good florist Steve, but what I love even more is a good but naturally bitchy florist Steve.
He'd have his own flower shop and years of dating experience behind his belt. He is not just a good boyfriend, he is THE good boyfriend. Going to his shop isn't just to buy a bouquet of flowers, oh no. It's a whole relationship coaching thing, he teaches husbands to do better, gives courage to teenagers asking their crushes out, gives advice regarding flower language to elderly ladies who just want to be slightly passive-aggressive...you know, the normal thing.
He has a catalogue with flower pictures to help people who have no idea what the flowers are called, they just know they were orange and didn't easily wilt.
He shows a local teenager the cheaper but still fancy options and throws in a bunch of free flowers that aren't really up to his standards. "Okay, you say she likes pink flowers. Does she like things to be a bit more decorated or does she prefer simplicity? You don't know? Okay, can you describe what she normally wears? No, I'm not being creepy, but you can sometimes tell the person's preferences from their clothes. Now answer or leave dateless."
He chats with the elderly ladies of Hawkins when they ask for a flower to gift to their fellow church ladies when they host their meetings. He cackles when he hears some of their orders. "Oh wow, Ethel, a yellow hyacinth? Would you like a gift card with that, something like sorry you're such a jealous hag? No? Of course I know the meaning, it's my job."
"Are you expeting her to say yes to the date with that atrocity on your face? Yes, I know it's a moustache. But it's also an atrocity. Shave it and thank me later. Now, would you like a ribbon for that bouquet?"
And most of all, he grills the unlucky conservative men in Hawkins who come to him for flowers for their wives without any idea what they like. "I see, so you want something pretty. What does your wife like? Flowers? Well, that's not specific. What kind of dresses does she wear? Expensive? Can you tell me anything about your wife's personality? ...nagging. No, I can't just mix something together, unlike you, I take pride in gift giving. Okay. I don't think this is a shop for you. Yes, that's what I'm saying, I won't play a part in your wife's disappointment. Oh sure, go take your money elsewhere, but I can give you this advice for free - you married a unique human being, so treat her like one. And if you really want a happy marriage - maybe come back when you learn something about her as a person. No need for that language, have a good day, sir."
For those that are more receptive, he goes through their partners' personalities and hobbies, suggesting date options and absolutely roasting the bad ones. "A football match. When your girlfriend hates sports. I don't care if it's your boys playing, you can try telling her that this is important to you and you'll take her out another time, but if you try to pass this as a date, you'll be single before you say "sorry". A date is for you as a pair, not for you only."
But the best thing his shop brings him is Eddie Munson, who sneaks in, absolutely ready to be roasted, and asks for a bouquet of bright colorful flowers for his best friend Chrissy. "She just got divorced from her asshole husband and I want to show her that she can have nice things. Platonically. But she deserves so much more. Uh...she really loves warm colors, so maybe yellows and oranges? What are they called...gerberas! She likes gerberas! And she likes things to be a bit messy and imperfect, so maybe some leaves there as well? A green ribbon would be nice."
And Steve just beams at him as he gets to work and says "Oh wow. Whoever your partner is, they are so lucky if you remember all of these things even for your friends. Makes a guy jealous."
Eddie just wiggles his eyebrows at Steve and mutters, "that position's sadly open. Has been for a while. Interested?" and he almost faints against the counter when Steve turns around.
Eddie is ready to run.
But Steve just fluffs his hair, reapplies his lipgloss and asks: "Where do I apply?"
#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#steddie drabble#steddie au#florist steve harrington
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
happy new year | l. norris
warnings: smut, whole lotta smut, everyone gets head, dirty talk, lando won't shut the fuck up, spitting lol, praise, don’t really know what’s going on half the time
authors note: found this in my drafts from december please enjoy x
31st december 2022, monaco - 11:54pm
“come on mate, get another drink down you,” max fewtrell handed his best friend a jagerbomb, his spare hand resting on landos shoulder, his drunken self unable to stand properly.
lando smiled slightly, before taking the drink and shotting it in one. it had been a few days since him and his girlfriend broke up, and he wasn’t anywhere near over her yet. he didn’t know if he ever would be, judging by how he felt right now. he wanted to be at home, bottle of some 40% spirit in hand and trying to forget.
max wouldn’t let that happen though, forcing him out tonight so he finally left the confinement of his apartment, hoping that the party scene would alleviate some of the stress on landos shoulder.
“come on, there’s so many fit girls here, take your pick,” he slurred, before being pulled away by his girlfriend for the traditional new years kiss.
lando hadn’t realised it was almost midnight, and suddenly he felt his stomach drop at the reminder that last year he was doing this with his ex. he grabbed another drink from the bar and got it down him quickly, planning on sitting at the bar while everyone around him spend the next few minutes with their loved ones.
until he saw you.
his eyes were glued to you the moment he saw you, stuck on how the short red dress you were wearing clung to your curves, stuck on how your hair tumbled over your bare shoulders, stuck on how the sparkly eyeshadow glistened under the neon lights or the club and lit up your whole face.
you made eye contact was you turned towards the bar, and obviously he caught your fancy, with a black button up that pronounced his muscles more than usual, a chain around his neck, and his hair in defined dark curls that contrasted his tanned skin. he looked almost like an angel descended from the heavens, except an angel would never have such a sorrowed look upon their face.
he beckoned you over with a flick of his fingers, eyes never leaving your body, and you may have been upset if you weren’t as gone as you were. you settled yourself in between his legs, taking the half drank glass from his hand and finishing it off for him, leaving a faint red mark on the rim.
he was infatuated at first glance. his hands settled in the dip of your waist, almost engulfing your body with their size. his mouth slowly curved into a smirk as he watched you lean over him to place the now empty glass on the bar, allowing him a small look at your lace bra you were wearing under your dress.
he checked the time on the clock. 11:57.
“what’s your name, gorgeous?” he asked, thumbs drawing lazy circles against the fabric of your dress.
you told him your name, before then asking for his, and his eyes widened with the realisation that you didn’t know who he was, or you were too drunk to realise.
“lando,” he smiled softly, voice deep and husky.
11:58.
“you here with anyone?” he asked, eyes dropping down to your red-stained lips before meeting your eyes again, the actions so quick you could barely recognise it happening.
you shook your head. “well, my friend, but she’s here with her boyfriend so…”
“i’m in the same boat,” he chuckled softly, subconsciously pulling you closer and closer towards him, so your thighs were brushing against his, “my mate max is here but he’s ran off with his girlfriend now.”
“god i hate people in couples,” you laughed, receiving one in return from lando, “they act all in love with no regard for those of us who are single.”
11:59.
“tell me about it,” lando rolled his eyes, his hand slowly climbing up your body so they were now resting against your rib cage.
you looped your arms around him, hands settling in the nape of his neck, a finger wrapping around a loose curl in his hair. he stood up now, looking down on you, and leant down so your faces were mere centimetres apart.
“you know it’s almost midnight,” he whispered in your ear, breath warm against your skin.
you hummed in response, feeling your heart beat doubly as fast against your ribs, the air suddenly feeling so much warmer.
“and i don’t have anyone to kiss.” as the final word left his mouth his lips attached to your neck, soft under ear, leaving a sloppy kiss that made you want more, want so much more.
“i don’t have anyone either,” you almost whispered, scared you had the wrong impression, but of course you didn’t.
chants of people in the background took you out of your little bubble, as the familiar ‘ten, nine, eight,’ sounded through the club.
lando leant right in, so your lips were practically touching already. “can i kiss you?”
you nodded just as the clock struck midnight, and his lips crashed into yours, with a sense of lust that you hadn’t felt in far too long.
the kiss was wet, it was sloppy, but it was desperate and needy and it sent a shiver through your body down to your core. your hands buried themselves in his hair, pulling against his roots and causing him to groan into the kiss, allowing him to stick his tongue in and control the kiss.
your tongues moved in harmony as his hands ran down the lengths of your body, as if he was scared this would be the last time he could touch you, the last time he could feel you under his fingertips. they eventually settled against your ass, cupping it lightly as he pushed your hips against his, so you could feel his semi through his jeans.
you wanted to kiss him forever, wanted all of him all at once. you decided that if the world ended now, you would be happy to die here and now, in landos embrace, his lips pressed against yours.
he pulled away, but only for his lips to find your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses until he found that sweet spot, the spot that made your neck roll back, giving him more access to suck against your skin, undoubtably leaving deep purple marks wherever he went.
your hands detached themselves from his hair and instead you dragged them down his body, fingers spaced out as you passed his pecs, passed his abs (though you were very tempted to linger there), and finished at the waistband of his jeans, dipping an index finger inside to trace the elastic of his boxers.
you felt him groan against your skin, pulling away to give you a look as if to say ‘really? in public?’. deciding to play it innocent, you just beat your eyelashes at him, a confused look on your face, and slowly ventured lower and lower.
lando wasn’t having any of that, however, grabbing your wrists easily in one hand and dragging you over to the door, pulling his phone out to call a taxi. you tried to kiss him again, but he just tutted, with a dangerous glint in his eye that told you you were in for it when you got back to his.
the taxi arrived sooner rather than later, and lando made an effort to sit in the front, leaving you in the back alone. you were confused, wondering where the sudden coldness had come from, wondering if you had pushed it too far. but when he turned around midway through the journey, and mouthed ‘behave now, and i’ll be nice later’, you knew it was going to be a fun night.
you quickly sent your friend a text to let her know you were okay, not that she would read it for another few hours, before deliberating whether or not to behave. on the one hand, behaving means that you wouldn’t piss lando off and that he’ll ‘be nice’ later, whatever that meant. but one the other hand, you kind of wanted to push his buttons, see what you could get him to do. which is why you decided to call your friend and stir up some trouble.
“hey bitch!” you practically sang into the phone, the drunkenness being more apparent than ever. you could see lando in the rear view mirror, and watched as his face seemed confused, but not upset.
“hey!” she slurred back, as drunk as you were, “where the fuck are you?”
“i’m with this guy,” you smirked to yourself as you started your plan, “but i can’t lie, he just doesn’t seem all that you know. like he seems like he’s all talk and he won’t deliver.”
lando raised an eyebrow at that, but still didn’t say or do anything, thought you could tell he was definitely listening in now.
“then why are you going with him?” your friend asked, and you could faintly here the music of the club in the background.
you hummed into the phone, but loud enough for lando to hear as well. “don’t know, maybe i just feel bad for him. he just doesn’t seem like he knows how to fuck, you get what i’m saying?”
lando’s fist clenched at that comment, but he still kept his cool, at least from the outside.
“like, i don’t know, he just doesn’t seem like he knows how to make me cum.”
that particular comment must have hit a nerve because lando leant back and grabbed the phone from your hand. you pouted and lazily attempted to grab it back, but really you were glad you were able to rile him up.
he quickly spoke to your friend, telling her you were okay and where you were going, before hanging up and ignoring your pleas for your phone.
it was only a few more minutes before you were back at lando’s flat, and he still ignored you while he paid the driver and guided you up the stairs, other than a link through your arm to make sure you didn’t fall. you liked the fact that he was still a gentleman, even though it seemed like he was about to not be.
“lando-” you whined as you waited outside his apartment, watching him unlock the door, but he cut you off before you could say anything else.
“what did i tell you?” he asked, voice still and stern, not facing you at all.
you tried to grab his wrist to get him to face you but he resisted. “to behave.”
“and you didn’t behave, did you?” his voice was almost patronising, but it was deep and rough and so fucking sexy that you didn’t care. “so now, i have to show you that what you were saying to your friend isn’t true. unless you’re going to apologise and tell me you didn’t mean it?”
he was giving you a chance to back down, to take the easy route. but it was new year’s day and you were never going to see him again, so you decided to have some fun.
“i don’t know what to tell you, you just don’t seem like you could make a girl cum,” you played it like you didn’t care, when your heart was racing knowing that something good was coming next.
he finally opened the door to his apartment and picked you up, your legs naturally looping around his waist as he pulled you into a rough kiss. it wasn’t like the one earlier, where even though it was rough there was a sweetness behind it, but instead this was pure lust and need in a kiss. his tongue explored every part of your mouth, at a ferocity that you felt like you were on fire, and that no bucket of water could ever pull you out.
his hands settled under your ass, kneading the skin under the silk of your dress. your hands found his shoulders, broad and wide, and you needed them stabilise as your world was spinning around you.
he carried you through his apartment, with you getting a brief look before he threw you onto his bed, leaving you looking up at him with rosy cheeks and lust-hazed eyes.
in the light he looked majestic, with two dimmed lamps either side of you projecting warm orange hues onto his face. fuck, he was gorgeous, chiseled by the gods themselves, and as he undid the buttons on his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, your mouth almost started to water at how beautiful he looked.
you pulled yourself up, going to try and finish undoing the buttons to take his top off, but he stopped you, once again capturing your wrists but this time pinning them behind your back.
“you don’t get to touch if you misbehave, baby,” he said, fake-pity written all across his face.
his other hand pulled your dress off your shoulders, and he let go of your hands for just a moment to remove it from the rest of your body. your heels were next, as he undid them slowly and carefully, taking his time to admire you, watching as your patience was running out.
left in just your lacy red lingerie, you watched as he climbed back over you, obvious hard on that he ignored as his lips met yours in another kiss. it wasn’t quite like the other one, slightly softer, as if he was checking that you were okay with all this. and of course you were.
he pulled away. “i can’t make you cum, yeah?”
“that’s what i said, isn’t it?” you teased back, tilting your head while trying to catch your breath.
“well, i guess you won’t be coming tonight then,” he almost sighed, before diving into the crook of your neck and leaving harsh, aggressive kisses wherever he could, adding to the deep purple marks he caused earlier on.
he slowly made his way down your neck, before finally making it to the valley of your breasts, where he sucked harder than before, obviously trying to deepen the colour and add to your pleasure. his hands found your breasts, taking one in each and kneading them, a soft massage that felt better than it ever should have done. was it the alcohol? or was it him?
he pulled your right boob out of your bra, eyes widening as his index finger and thumb took your nipple in between them and started to roll it gently. you arched your back in reponse, a weak moan falling from your lips, which pushed your breast into his fingers more. his other hand pulled out your other breast, but instead of his fingers his lips attached to it, and your mouth parted subconsciously as a wave of pleasure washed over you.
god, he was good. and he knew he was good judging by the smirk on his face. you almost regretted not letting him pleasure you how he was planning to.
almost.
“fuck, lando,” you let out a breathy whine as he swapped over, both of your nipples having an overwhelming sense of pleasure, “look so pretty sucking my tits.”
you could tell he liked that, as a vibration shook through your body when he moaned against your skin. he pulled away, much to your dismay, but you stopped minding as he slowly made his way down your body, still leaving the open mouthed kisses as he reached your belly button.
“you know,” he almost panted, hands still fixed on your tits, “i was gonna make you feel so fucking good.”
one hand leaves your nipple, a cool trail down your stomach before it settles at your waistband, mimicking your actions from in the club. your hips buck against his hand, causing him to chuckle slightly, as you crave more and more and more of his touch’s
“i was gonna make you come on my tongue, it would have felt so fucking good,” his sultry voice was working wonders as his fingertips traced the patterns in the lace, “would have had you screaming my name as i sucked your clit, would have felt fucking euphoric.”
even his words made you feel something, made you feel like any moment now you were about to combust. one finger trailed down your panties, feather light over where you needed him the most, but with the lace barrier in the way.
“god, you’ve ruined these, huh?” he chuckled, feeling how your wetness had soaked through your underwear. “so fucking wet and all i’ve touched are your tits. so responsive for me.”
you wanted to talk back, wanted to have some bite to you, spur him on even more, but you couldn’t conjure up anything while he left soft kisses on your inner thighs.
“still want my mouth, baby?” his voice was sickly sweet, but the tone behind it was cruel and teasing, because obviously you still wanted his mouth.
you nodded as best as you could, but he shook his head a response, a ‘tut tut tut’ leaving his mouth.
“need words, darling,” he almost sang, “or else you’re not getting anything from me.”
you mustered up every last drop of energy you had and spoke up. “please, lando. i want you.”
“want what?”
it took every fibre in your body to not tell him to fuck off there and then. you wanted to, you really wanted to, but you also wanted him. and that want won.
“want your mouth on me, please, lando.”
and that was enough for him, as he pulled down your lace panties and finally revealed your pussy to him.
“fuck me, darling,” his finger trailed over your folds, feather light, as he took in the sight of it, “you’re glistening, look, you’re dripping out.”
you would have felt embarrassed, but the dutch courage must have taken over. “not used to seeing a girl so wet, huh?”
his tongue poked his cheek. “easy, pretty girl. let me make you feel good.”
he gently blew over you, making you squirm slightly, before he dived straight in and began sucking your clit. the pleasure was instant, your hips bucking into his face as he chuckled against you, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. everything he had made you feel up to this point was microscopic compared to the pleasure you felt now.
it only grew when he slid two fingers into your pussy, curling them up at hitting that spot inside of you, looking over as your face contorted in pleasure, eyes closed, mouth hung open, he thought you looked like the prettiest girl in the world.
you were already close, no idea how as you hadn’t been going for that long. but the mix of his fingers in your cunt and his mouth on your clit was bringing you to the edge.
“i- i’m close, lando,” you stuttered, speaking hard when so much pleasure was coarsing through your veins.
he tilted his head slightly. “you’re close did you say?”
you nodded, feeling your orgasm approaching faster and faster, you could already feel it happening now. to add to everything, his fingers somehow reached deeper inside of you, contorting in a way where everything was just so fucking good.
“i wait,” he let out a soft, fake laugh, “i forgot. i can’t make you cum.”
and with that he pulled away, leaving you recovering from a high you never even got. you had to take a minute, your body feeling worse than ever as the euphoria slowly went away, and the lack of human touch was getting to you.
“what’s wrong, baby?” he faked pity, reaching down to swipe his thumb across your cheekbone. “you weren’t expecting to finish, not according to what you said in the car.”
you slowly opened your eyes, seeing his gorgeous face looking down on you, and fighting the urge to throw a punch. you subconsciously leaned into his touch, craving it despite the atrocity he just performed, and watched as he undid his belt with his other hand.
“here’s the deal,” he pulled away, leaving you with a whine, before unbuttoning his shirt and taking it all off, allowing you to see his abs for the first time that night. “you’re gonna suck me off, and if you do a good job, then, and only then, do you get to cum. understand, darling?”
you nodded. secretly, you wanted to suck him off anyway, and with this deal you would get to come as well. he took a step back from the bed, tapping his foot against the floor as a gesture for you to come down. you couldn’t understand though, brain slightly fucked from the shortly lived pleasure, and instead looked at him confusedly.
“get on your knees for me, baby,” he cooed, and you did as he said, sinking onto his wooden floor and looking up at him, waiting for his next order. with the promise of an orgasm at the other end, at this point you would do anything to get to the prize.
he started to unzip his jeans, and as you went to help, he instantly took a step back. “hands behind your back, no touching remember?”
you poured, but did as he said, linking for fingers behind your back as you waited for him to get ready. he pulled his boxers down, and jesus christ were you not ready.
he looked big through his hard on in his jeans, but you were not ready for all that. you could tell you were shocking your shock through your face, and he let out a soft chuckle and grabbed your chin with his right hand.
“think you can take it?” he asked, holding it with his other hand as he kept your eyes on it, watching as your mouth suddenly seemed to water.
you nodded. “mhm. just wanna make you feel good, baby. that’s all i want.”
he smiled down at you. “give me a kiss.”
you tried to climb up to kiss his lips, but his hand kept you pressed down, and you understood instantly. you leant forward to press your mouth against his dick, kissing the tip gently and watching as his head fell back. you left open mouthed kisses all down his length, finished at the base before climbing all the way back to the top. you started leaving kitten licks on the tip, watching the veins in his neck pulsate at your actions.
“god, you’re so fucking good,” he grunted, hand moving from your chin round to the back of your head, nestling in your hair as he started to take control. “you gonna take me all in?”
you hummed against his cock, opening your mouth as he guided you down, controlling your movements as he gently fucked your mouth. you tried your hardest not to move or choke, instead trying to focus on his pleasure.
you couldn’t help your eyes watering though, and when he looked down he obviously felt bad, relaxing a little bit as he let you take more charge.
“look so pretty naked on your knees for me,” he cooed, taking in sharp breaths as your tongue swirled around his tip. “who knew that such a sweet looking girl could give head like this? yeah, keep going, fuck, you’re so fucking good.”
you just kept going, knowing that the more you pleasured him the more likely you were to get pleasure yourself. lando didn’t want to seem selfish, however, as his hand wrapped forward to stroke your cheek again.
“fuck, play with your nipples for me,” he ordered, slightly out of breath, but moaning as you started to play with yourself. he let out a groan as you moaned around his cock, head bobbing like this was your last day on earth. “such pretty tits, should be framed in a museum how good you look right now.”
you could tell he was close by how his breaths got shallower and shallower, and his thrusts into your throat got weaker. he pulled away though, leaving a string of saliva from your mouth to his cock, which you licked up instantly. you went back to kissing his cock, waiting as you squeezed your nipples even harder.
“you were so good, huh, baby?” he picked your naked body up, grabbing your hands and wrapping them round his neck, telling you that you could finally touch him again. “listened to everything i told you to do, such a good girl.”
his praise was music to your ears, and his actions matched the tone of his words. he lay you gently down on the bed, climbing over you as his lips met yours in the softest kiss of the night. it was an ‘are you okay?’ kiss, an ‘i hope i didn’t go too far’ kiss, a ‘you look beautiful’ kiss, and it was possibly your favourite of the night.
“gonna fuck that dripping pussy,” he mumbled into your lips before continuing the kiss, lining his cock up against your entrance, tapping it against your clit purely to watch you squirm with elation.
and as he thrusted into you it was like your world had stopped. fuck, he felt so good inside you, filling you up more than you could have imagined and left you choking on air as inch by inch he entered more and more.
lando felt much the same, obsessed with how you felt clenched around him, how tight you were as he continued in. he waited once his whole dick was in, holding back from setting a rhythm until he was positive you could take it.
“feel so good clenched around me,” he muttered out, leaning back so he could check you were alright, check that you were ready for this, “such a tight little pussy needs to be stretched out.”
you nodded at him, a signal to start moving, and he did as he was told, beginning to thrust in and out of you at such a pace that your mouth flew open in shock. his hands dug into your hips, undoubtably causing marks as he fucked you deep and hard.
the moans emitted from your mouth were ungodly, borderline pornographic, and led to you covering your mouth in embarrassment. lando was having none of that, however, stopping his movements to gaze into your eyes.
“don’t you dare not let me hear those pretty sounds,” he thrust at the end of the sentence, as if to solidify his point, and you allowed yourself to moan, “want all the neighbours to hear how good i’m fucking you.”
you were so close to the edge, once again seeing it in the distance, and you clenched around lando trying to let him know. he chuckled and leant into your shoulder, kissing over the deep marks he’d left earlier, just adding to the euphoria you were feeling.
“gonna cum,” you whined, grabbing one of his hands and guiding it to your clit, needing that final push to make it over the edge.
he understood instantly, rubbing rough circles while sucking against your neck. the pleasure was washing over you in waves, and it wasn’t long until you felt your orgasm rush through your body, every part of you feeling lighter and in a state of happiness you couldn’t remember ever feeling before.
lando kept going, however, chasing his own orgasm, and you decided to help him get thrre, however harsh it was for you. your lips found his neck for the first time, leaving sloppy kisses along his collarbones that were followed by a row of dark purple and red.
“fuck me,” he grunted, thrusts getting sloppier as he got closer and closer to the edge. “gonna pull out, yeah?”
you nodded against his chest, nails tracing over his abs as you rocked your hips in tandem with him, so sensitive that you might even come again.
as he kept thrusting into you, you remembered how much he loved being praised earlier, and thought that might help get him over the edge.
“being so good, fucking me so well lando,” you sighed, whispering into his ear as you kissed up his neck.
you felt his thrusts stutter with your words, obviously having a positive impact as a blush rose to his cheeks. his hands gripped even harder around your hips, and you began to feel another orgasm coming.
“such a pretty boy, so so pretty, look so good and fuck me so good,” you kept going, your hands leaving him and instead finding your clit. “got the prettiest dick as well, feels so good all wrapped inside me.”
“fuck-” he choked out, before pulling out and finishing all over his chest.
he panted while you got yourself to finish, cumming over your fingers. you threw your head back against the pillow, watching your chest as it rose and fell, trying to catch your breath.
lando joined you, lying across the bed while pulling himself together. you decided you weren’t finished, however, crawling over on top of him and licking his cum off of his abs, making sure to get every last drop off. his hands tangled themselves as you finished, pulling you up to him so he could kiss you again, making out like teenagers as you just enjoyed each others company.
“so,” lando finally broke the silence as he pulled away from the kiss, “i did make you cum.”
you shrugged as you rolled back to the side of him. “was it more fun that i challenged you?”
“definitely. never known someone so responsive to some dirty talk,” he jested, earning a slap on his bicep.
“never known someone love to be praised so much,” you retaliated, shutting him up as he went to grab you a glass of water.
he returned quickly, along with some boxers for him and a baggy t-shirt for you. you noticed the t-shirt it had ‘mclaren’ across it, and you hummed for his attention as you threw it on.
“you like cars then?” you asked, not expecting him to laugh in reponse.
“yeah, you could say that.”
you tilted your head in confusion, but decided you were too tired to understand whatever was going on. “you don’t mind me staying the night?”
“not at all.”
“you gonna tell me why that was so funny in the morning?” you asked, knowing it would be your last question before you drifted off to sleep.
he hummed. “of course. happy new year.”
“happy new year.”
#f1 smut#formula 1 smut#formula one smut#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris blurb#lando norris drabble#formula 1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula 1 blurb#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
PEEPING TOM
A/n: Its good to be back, I also will be doing kink tober! Yay!
Synopsis: In which you find a peephole in your wall, allowing you to spy on your neighbor Gojo Satoru
Word count: 3.2k
Warnings: Peeping Tom, mutual masturbation, masturbation, slight dub-con, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, breeding, Dom!Gojo, fingering, rough sex
MINORS DNI
~
The first time it happened, it was an accident.
It was day numero uno in your new dorm at Tokyo Jujutsu High. You were hesitant at first enrolling, being suddenly uprooted from an overall normal life into a world of curses and sorcerers was a, well, definitely a shocking experience for you. In fact, today was a boring blur for you, by the time you were done moving in it was nightfall and the only people you met were principle yaga and an old guy.
So you didn't expect the most exciting part of your day would be finding a peep hole right at eye view of you when you sat up on your bed.
Of course you pay no attention to it, this was a pretty old Japanese building after all. It was when you were searching up what the hell “spackle was” when you heard a loud “FUCK” coming from the other side of the wall.
Well that's interesting.
You know it's wrong, you wouldn't want peering in on you. But curiosity got the better of you as you sat down on your bed and aligned your eye with the hole.
From what you could see, your nameless neighbors room was pretty neat, but your mind went completely blank when a set of abs came into your vision, followed by the side profile of one of the most handsome white haired man you had ever seen.
So yeah, the first time you peeped on your neighbor was a mistake.
The second time. Not so much.
~
"Hey! My name is y/n l/n im your neighbor"
Piercing blue eyes look you up and down and your breath catches in your throat.
His eyes, framed by a shock of defiantly white hair, hold a mysterious depth that seems to invite you into an endless ocean of secrets. They twinkle with a mischievous glint. His lips, full and inviting, flash you a devilish smile that hints at an irreverent sense of humor. The white hair man leans on the door frame.
“Ahh so your the new girl”
You gulp, trying to keep your eyes from raking over his well built body that were sporting sweat pants that rode just slightly low on his hips and a black shirt that exposed the tone muscles of his arms.
Lawd have mercy, we must stay focused, we must stay focused.
"Yeah uh, I just wanted to get your name, you know, since we are gonna be neighbors and all….." You trail off at the end, fiddling with the ends of your uniform skirt.
You can feel his eyes bore into your head as you averted his gaze. He chuckles and blows out air from his nose in amusement.
“Gojo satoru. You can call me Satoru, since you know, we are going to be neighbors and all” He almost coos mockingly.
You nod and hold out your hand.
“Nice to meet you Satoru.”
~
For the next two weeks you find yourself slowly adjusting into your new life. You spend most of your time either training or hanging out with your new friend Shoko, since you are deemed ‘too new’ for any missions which is fine by you. During this your interactions and conversations with Gojo are kept rather short. You laugh at the jokes he and Geto come up with during class, roll your eyes at the snarky comments he makes about how ‘new’ you are, and occasionally even give him a smile in the hall. But for some reason you can't seem to get him out of your head; your eyes often wandering to stare at the back of his white hair during lessons, watching how his long digits gracefully twirl a pencil around, finding yourself wondering what else he can do with those fingers.
And it is for those very reasons you find yourself lying in your bed, unable to sleep.
Huffing, you sat up in your bed and turned on the light on your night stand. As you leaned toward the wall to grab your phone, that’s when you heard it.
A faint groan.
….
You shouldn’t.
It's wrong. You already peeped once, and that’s enough.
But god, curiosity is killing you right now. It was eating away at your brain like termites and you couldn’t seem to let the question go.
So you made a promise. One look. One final quick last look and that would be it.
Oh how curiosity killed the cat.
The moment your eye was aligned with the hole, your mind went blank and in front of you was a sight ever to behold.
There on white bed sheets was Gojo, shirtless, sweatpants slightly lowered furiously fisting his dick. For a couple seconds, you couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him; how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back, the glide of his hand up and down his long dick and how the top of his fist captured his redish pink tip with every thrust.
Once the initial shock was over you immediately pulled away, hand covering your mouth to silence your gasp. You should've never looked, never crossed the threshold between curiosity and invasion of privacy. But as you move away to go back to sleep and forget all about this, you wince.
Oh no.
An all too familiar ache has started to form between your thighs and you felt your stomach twist into knots and form into a million butterflies. Frantically, you pull down your short, silently cursing when your eyes are met with a small damp stain at the base of your underwear.
This couldn't be happening. Quickly you crawled back under your covers and turned off the lights, praying that the feeling would go away. Surprise surprise, it didnt.
Biting your lip, you grabbed a pillow and placed it between your legs, squeezing your thighs together. A couple seconds later without realizing it you had started to slowly roll your hips on the soft object, desperately seeking some way to alleviate your pain.
But it seemed like that only made things worse.
Your skin was buzzing, and your breaths had turned deep and heavy. The slick accumulating in your cunt has started to become borderline uncomfortable and the twisting in your stomach didnt seem to cease. You needed release.
One more look. One more look than one orgasm and thats it.
Frantically you crawled back to the small hole, letting out a soft whimper when you're met with the sight again. This time his eyes were squeezed shut, and white substance filled the space between his fingers as he hurriedly fisted himself. Without even thinking, you slipped a hand under your underwear and letting out a sigh of relief when your index finger came in contact with your clit.
Quick, you'd make this quick.
Using your wetness, you began to circle your finger around the nerve, falling into a slow rythm. You tried your best to cover the wet clicking sounds coming from your ministrations, but after a couple minutes you couldnt see to care any more. You let your mind drift to thoughts of Satoru. How would he look above you, sweaty and in euphoria? Oh you bet his dick would feel so good inside of you, fill you up and hit all the right places. Fuck it you'd probably let him cum in you, spill his seed in your cunt and fill you up over and over again.
Your movements had become frantic now as you desperately chased your orgasm and from what you could tell it seemed like he was getting close too. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to suppress the moans and your thighs started to tremble as you got closer to finishing. Suddenly, your stomach dipped and tightened as a surge of mind numbing pleasure took over you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and mouth falling agape.
After a couple seconds passed, you were left panting and you dazedly glanced back through the hole to find that Satrou had also finished; white streams of cum painting his toned stomach and fist.
You blink back the euphoria that slowly escaped your brain.
Ok. Never again.
~
That was a lie.
You started to pick up the fact that Gojo had a routine. He’d jack off once in the morning and once at night, and boy, where the sounds impossible to ignore. So, you started to fall into this routine with Gojo. On cue, when you heard his shaky breath and silent whimpers, your hand would automatically slip into your pants, circling around your wetness to the sound of his shaky sighs. On the days you slept through the ones in the morning and missed it as night as well, you’d touch yourself on your own time, cumming over and over again to the thought of Gojo pumping his thick cock in and out of you.
You didn't know what the end goal was to this and hell you knew it was wrong. But the pleasure was too overwhelming, the sound of Gojo was too overwhelming, too damn compelling.
So here you were again, another night laying next to the peep hole, hand down your pants intently listening to the fast pap pap pap that came from the other side of the way.
But something was different tonight. Your skin felt like it was on fire. Your walls pulsed and squeezed around nothing with every light rub for your clit. This was becoming dangerous, the pleasure was becoming too much, the thought of gojo fucking you was becoming too much.
You let out a whine that comes out louder than expected but you can't seem to care. You dig your ass into the mattress and arch your back slightly. You're not thinking of your fingers as your own right no, no, they are Gojo’s long pale ones rubbing fast circles on your throbbing clit. His name falls from your mouth like a silent plea over and over, begging him to fuck you. You're so engrossed in the pleasure that it took you 20 seconds to fully realize that the sounds on the other side of the wall had stopped. Confused, you align your eye with the peep hole and a gasp rips out of your throat.
Instead of finding Gojo’s body layed out your met with the sight of another eye. A blue eye. Staring right back at you.
You pull away from the wall and cover your mouth. Before you can even process a thought your door swings open and in steps the last person you wanted to see.
"You've been peeping on me." Gojo coos, a shit eating grin spread on his face. Hes disheveled, white hair tousled, black tank top slightly riding up and grey sweat pants riding down showing his white happy trail. But most notable was his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his pants, a slight stain adorning the material right where the tip is.
"You've been peeping on me!!!" You stammer, pulling your knees up to your chest.
“Oh really? Is that the best defense you’ve got?” Gojo chuckles and rakes a hand through his white hair, taking a few steps closer to your bed.
“What are you doing? Get out!”
“Oh? Is that what you really want? You want me to leave?” Gojo is at the foot of your bed now, and your breathing becomes faster when he climbs on. “Because I can leave. I can leave and tell everyone what a little whore you’ve been, listening to me morning and night.”
“You-” You can't even finish your sentence because he's on top of you now, legs on either side of your body and you gaze up helplessly at him.
“Of course I noticed princess,why do you think I was doing it so much anyway?” He places his index under your face and tilts your chin up so your lips align with his. “Loved hearing those whines…. Wanna hear more so badly” He murmurs before placing his lips onto yours. You sigh into the kiss, letting his warm tongue entangle into yours. He holds the back of your neck to deepen the kiss before peppering his lips along your jawline and your neck. A hand slips below your flimsy tank top and another pulls at the hem of your underwear. Before you know it your completely naked, your chest rising and falling and Gojos hungry eyes scan your body.
He licks his lips.
“You gonna let me hear more?”
You gasp when you feel a long finger slide down your slit connecting the wetness before dipping into your tight hole. Gojo leaned close to soothingly press dry lips to your temple. “Shh,” He whispered, the resulting puffs of air washing over the side of your face making you shake. “This your first time being touched like this baby?Or did you not know about this special little g-spot you’ve got right here?”
Your toes curl when he touches a spot deep inside you that sends bolts of pleasure coursing through your brain. You don’t even notice that he’s pulling down his pants until he pulls his fingers away, a string of wetness connecting his digits with your pussy, and your eyes are met with the sight of his length.
You unconsciously buck your hips up at the sight of it, practically humping the air, and Gojo has to secure your hips down to the bed to prevent you from hurting yourself. You could hear your heart in your ears and adrenaline coursed through your veins at rocket fire speed. The need in between your legs was too much, it was clouding your head and twisting your stomach so tight you almost felt sick. You jolt when his fat tip bumps into your clit; collecting your juices before pressing against your quivering hole.
"Shhhh, we are going to have so much fun together baby.”
You're cut off by the feeling of his length spreading you so helplessly wide and his tip smashing against something which must be your cervix you think. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides into you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, your cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making Gojo let oout a low groan of his own and pushing even deeper into you.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said hoarsely.
“Satoru please-”
You dont get to finish the thought because Gojo pulls out and ram back into you with such fever everything goes blank for a second. His thrusts started out shallow and slow, testing the waters for how much he could get away with. What your limits were, and if you could fully take him for what he wanted. But that quickly changed to harsher thrusts, until he’s using you like his personal cock sleeve, shaping your insides and bruising your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity.
Every thrust knocks the wind out of you, his tip smushing right against your cervix only to be pulled out and rammed back in again. And the sounds, god the sounds where sinful. Wet skin against skin echoed through the room the sloshing of cum
It was too much, the feeling of your wet gummy walls gripping him so tightly, fuck, his hand felt like sand paper compared to this, how was he able to fucking live without your pussy in the first place. There was no way Gojo could stop now. His body had kicked into auto pilot, a primal need for you settled in as he thrusted in and out, creating a methodical fast rhythm that echoed in your ears. The sight of you right now, the feeling of your pussy clamped on his dick did not justice to the image his fucked his fist to. No, this was better, this was heaven.
“So good- don’t stop, please don’t stop!” your babbling strung out of your lips too absorbed in the thought of how god damn good he was fucking you, his thick cock driving in and out of your velvet walls. It was as if you were made for each other, your cunt sucking him in with each push and shove that hit at just the right spots.
“Say my name baby” he coos and an involuntary cry escapes your lips, a passionate fusion of pleasure and intensity. Amid the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that washed over you, your mouth began to call out your boyfriend's name. Again and again.
“Beautiful girl, such a natural submissive” he whispered hoarsely. Your stomach coiled with anticipation, heat encircling your core like a tightening cord. Your senses tingled, your mind a haze of desire, all consuming thoughts centered around Gojos electrifying touch. You pressed back into him, arching off a second later and then your hips rocked down. Words became superfluous, you couldn't say anything, not with the way you were panting and twitching, so insanely close to your peak that you wouldn’t ruin it with your words.
“Do it,” Gojo said into your ear with conviction. “Wanna see you cum all over me, fu-fuck, been waiting for that.”
His words seem to flip a switch in you. The heat on your stomach is unbearable, you can’t take it anymore, it’s consuming you, driving you over the edge so fast that you can’t put a stop on it. Your pussy tightens so hard around Gojos dick that he nearly has to stop his thrusts, your scream is muffled by a hand clamped over your mouth as you feel yourself splitting in two, coming with his cock buried deep inside you. Gojo doesnt stop, He fucks you hard into the futon; your eyes roll back, toes curling as waves of pleasure crash over you, your entire body trembles over his thrusts.
"Oh shit!" He gasps as your cunt clamps around him. He growls something unintelligible as his thrusts become erratic and sloppy. “"Gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up it's what you were made for- ah, fu-uck- cumming!" Gojo pressing him flush against you choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny.
“Wa-wait! N-not ins-si-” You squeal but cut your self off when you feel something deliciously warm enter your battered pussy. You babbled and squirmed as it built and built and built, like there was a dam of his seed spurting into you. You unintentionally, probably instinctually, squeezed around him, drawing more out and he whined and murmured his praise. “Good girl, get as much as you can.” He petted circles over your stomach, over the bulge of where his cock and cum lay. “Such a pretty tummy….” You threw your face into your arms and shook.
The two of you stayed like that for a while–Gojo keeping you plugged with his cock while you both watched your breaths, listening to eachother and occasionally leaning in for a messy kiss.
“So, I guess we are both peeping toms then.”
A/N: Im too lazy to write an ending
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#jujustu kaisen fanfic#jjk x reader
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
in secret | csc
pairing: idol!choi seungcheol x model!reader
themes: secret relationship, situationship
warnings: minors dni! smut, fingering, mentions of reader having breasts and a vagina
ring. ring. ring.
you didn’t bother checking who was calling as there was only one person to call you during your schedule.
“you know you can’t keep calling me while i’m at work cheol.”
you hear a chuckle on the other end of the line as you pick up another booty call from seungcheol. you had met him through an event where you accidentally bumped into him as you were leaving your dressing room and the rest was history.
“yet you still always answer baby.”
“only because god knows how pouty you get when i don’t.” you laugh as you wave your collegues goodbye, your fittings and schedule over for the day.
you had walked over to your car still on the phone with cheol as you unlocked your car and got in to continue your call in private.
“what is it you want tonight? i’m pretty tired for sex today.”
ah, yes. you were in a friends-with-benefits type of relationship with cheol after that one incident where you both were at a after party in which both of you had alcohol in your system but still sober enough to decide to have sex in his car before he drove you home to your apartment.
“i’m not calling you for sex—well tonight i’m not.” he laughs as you hear the faint sounds of the radio in the background. “i was passing by your favorite restaurant and bought too much food for one person to eat alone so i was gonna ask you if i could come over and share a meal with you tonight.”
“woah, who are you and what have you done to the cheol i met first?” you teased him as you pulled out of the parking and into the street to head home to your apartment a couple of blocks away.
“i can be a gentleman too if i wanted to you know? rude that you think otherwise.” you could see him pouting my the way his voice sounded over the phone.
“i’m kidding baby i know you are but yes you can come over. the doors are unlocked and i’m a few minutes away.” you answer.
“how many times do i have to tell you to not leave your doors unlocked? you’ll be the death of me woman seriously.”
“and how many times do i need to tell you my apartments security is really good. anyways, i got to pass by a shop to buy some stuff for my apartment. i’ll see you later.”
“m’kay, drive safe. see you later.”
༝༚༝༚
“—and then they forced them to hug it out with hannie after they had won the prize and could go home early! it was the funniest thing i saw today.” cheol laughed from the other side of the table as the both of you ate dinner together.
“i would’ve loved to see that in person.” you laughed as you imagined it happening infront of you.
you were familiar with his group, seventeen. he had ‘forced’ you to watch gose episodes and some of their (more specifically his) fancams from previous concerts during some of your more casual meet ups. you had enjoyed it so much you actually had a slight infatuation with wonwoo much to cheol’s dismay that he wasn’t your bias.
“you’d love the boys. they are the same on and off camera, i’m super proud of them really.” he gushed as he sipped on the beer you had bought before coming home.
“i’m sure they feel the same way about you,” you reassured him as he smiled at you.
cheol was a great leader, he was kind but firm especially when it came to his brothers. he would rather pay fines and reassure his fans than keep them overthinking about things. he was a pure soul—maybe that’s why over time you had slowly fallen for him.
“thanks baby.” he mouthed to you as you both enjoyed the rest of your dinner in comfortable silence.
you watched as he finished his food the same time you had before grabbing the plastic containers and throwing them in the trash tidying up your dining room before plopping down on the couch beside you. you had been planning on setting boundaries with him as you knew your feelings would get hurt if he finds a girl he actually wants to pursue and not just fuck.
you had past flings and relationships before you had met cheol. it was never easy for you to fall in love with the way you’ve fallen for cheol—not even with your exes. you had been the secret girlfriend or lover before so why was it so hard to be that with cheol? oh right. you weren’t even his girlfriend. you’re just a one-call away fuck when he needed you to be. but you’d also be the first person he’d run to when the world around him became too much for him to handle.
“cheol?” you called out softly as you approached the couch.
“hmm?” he hummed as he looked up from the tv to look at you.
you watched his brown eyes lock on your own as the nerves in your stomach knotted. you couldn’t do it but you knew you needed to before you hurt yourself by loving a man that wasn’t even yours to love.
could you stomach not being able to hold him the way only you could when it was just the two of you? to live with the thought that he’ll settle down with another woman and that he couldn’t do it with you? to know that you were good enough to fuck but not commit to fully?
“how long will we continue like this?” you ask as you take the spot on the couch beside him.
“what do you mean sweetheart?” he asked as his brows furrowed in confusion.
“this cheol. you and me. is this all we’re going to be? a quick fuck and leave?” you could see the way the gears in his mind were then turning.
he didn’t know what to answer.
“i thought we were fine with this kind of set up? you didn’t want any commitments and i didn’t too especially in the industry we are in.”
“i was at first. things happen seungcheol—things even sometimes i can’t stop.” you argue as you watch him fidget with his hands.
“i—i can’t do it (y/n). there’s so much on the line for me—for you! i have an album release coming up. you have your runway and cover launch. if anyone finds out, the backlash would be too much for both of us to quiet down quick enough that it won’t ruin everything we’ve built.” he reasoned as he stood up from the couch.
“am i really just a good fuck to you?” the question hung in the air as you watch him try to answer you but decided not to and grabbed his keys making a beeline for the door.
“so much for being a gentleman. goodbye asshole!” you shout at him as he leaves your apartment in silence.
you broke down in tears burrying your face into your throwpillow mourning a relationship that was never there to begin with. you had shared you body with him—intimate moments of just you and him as he worshipped your body. you had not only fucked but there was that one time in which he made love to you after he had been away on tour for a month. he touched your body as if he was memorizing every mole, scar and dip of your body, kissing every patch of skin he could as he slowly thrusted in and out of you as if trying to engrave you in his brain yet he couldn’t commit to you even if he did all that.
you knew since the beggining that you were playing a dangerous game when you had met and started messing with each other in secret, so you couldn’t blame him fully for hurting and leaving you when you wanted things to get serious.
you cried for him that night, vowing never to let anyone mess with your heart the way he did with yours. you allowed yourself to mourn him and what could’ve been before drifting off to sleep.
༝༚༝༚
a month had passed since that night, everything was getting better. you had walked for one of your dream brands in their show in paris before being flown back to korea for a cover shoot. you had managed to avoid thinking about him successfully burying yourself in your work.
you had glanced at the calendar hung on the wall in your little office where the date tomorrow was encirled with red ink with his handwriting messily scribbled beneath the date.
new album release in which you’d drool over wonwoo instead of me :(
you had avoided opening twitter to stop yourself from looking at updates from seventeen hoping for a glance of him even going as far as to download weverse to catch a live of him. yet your finger hovered over his contact on your phone wanting to call and check in on him as he was always nervous whenever he had events coming up.
“no stop that. you’re not going to make yourself available for someone who thinks your just a good fuck.” you mutter to yourself as you close your phone.
your room still had traces of him you haven’t got the guts to get rid of yet. his perfume still sits on your vanity as he sometimes stays the night and always forgets to bring his perfume with him to use which resulted in him leaving his bottle of perfume in your room. his jersey from that one gose episode hangs from the chair in the corner of the room from that time you asked him to bring you home wonwoo’s but refused to do so saying it would be weird to see you wearing wonwoo’s jersey when you were fucking him. his toothbrush is still by the sink in your ensuite and his spare clothes are still on your top drawer waiting for him to come and use them—but he won’t because he’s doing better than you are and moving on from your little situationship.
his side of the bed still smells like him despite you spraying your perfume on it. he just manages to haunt you in the solitude of your own home. you’re thinking gets interrupted by a call from an unknown number on your phone.
“hello?” you greet unsure.
breathing is the only thing heard on the other line so in your better judgement you turn the call off thinking somebody just dialled the wrong number by accident.
you shrugged it off before tossing your phone to your bed and rearranging your vanity to keep your mind busy.
ping!
a notification interrupts your rearranging seeing your phone light up as a message comes through.
open the door.
“open the door?” you read out loud as you see the text. confused as the number isn’t saved you decided to check your front door as a safety measure.
you peep through the hole in your front door to see no one there but you decided to open and check. you glanced at the hall seeing no one there but to your surprise there was a paper bag on the floor. you picked it up and placed it on your kitchen counter before locking the door behind you.
you opened the bag to find an unsealed album with wonwoo’s signature on it. confused you rummage through the bag to pull out wonwoo’s jersey from that one gose episode.
“what the hell?” you asked confused as you pulled your phone out to check the number that had texted you. it wasn’t a number saved in your phone but you had an inkling to whom it was from.
you decided to call the number to confirm your suspicions. you had waited a while before the call got answered. and boy were you ready to give them a piece of your mind.
“hello?” he answers as you pace back and forth in your kitchen holding the album in your hand.
“yes, hello to you too. what the fuck is this? why would you send me an album signed by wonwoo and his jersey from that one gose episode? are you that fucked up seungcheol?” you fumed as you waited for him to say something.
“well?” you pushed as he wasn’t answering you.
“hi, uhm, it’s not seungcheol. i’m gonna introduce myself first, my name is joshua hong. i’m seungcheol’s group member and he borrowed my phone to text you. he isn’t here right now but i’ll make sure to relay the message you had for him. also, don’t worry about me spilling your secret i’m not gonna tell anyone about the two of you. you have my word for it.” you could feel the heat build up on your cheeks in embarrassment.
“i’m sorry! i thought you were seungcheol. i probably should’ve let you talk first before i went off on you.” you apologize as you hear joshua chuckle.
“don’t worry about it, i get where you’re coming from. don’t tell cheol but you were right setting boundaries to your situation with him.”
it was nice to know joshua was on the same page with you regarding the matter.
“yeah but it may have cost me his presence in my life. well, until he had contacted me again today.” you admitted as he sighed.
“i told him he should’ve used his own number to contact you but he wouldn’t listen to me. that man honestly, he can be so dumb with things like this but is so smart in other things.”
“i was debating calling him just hours ago. i know how tense he gets with your album releases but i—“
“you wanted him to reach out to you because you already told him what you wanted out of your situation. yeah, i know. he told me about you guys a week ago.”
“he did?” you asked surprised.
you really didn’t think he’d talk about you and your situation with anyone else. truthfully, you didn’t know how you felt about it. seungcheol had all the time during your no-contact period to reach out but he never did so you thought he was fully over your relationship. hearing from joshua that he was talking about it with someone else somehow gave you a thought that he might actually be thinking about you still.
“he hasn’t been able to talk to anybody else about it because of the circumstances but i could tell something was troubling him so i just waited for him to open up to me without being forced to and he did eventually. i know he misses you—he hasn’t shut up about it to me,” he sighs as you pick at your nails. “he means well, y’know? he just has a lot on his shoulders being our leader and the shield that protects everyone around him but i know deep down your good for him and i know he knows it too. just hear him out please?”
“i will, thank you joshua. congratulations on your new album by the way. i’m sure you’ll be hitting the charts and winning awards for it soon enough.” you thank him as he says his thanks and ends the call leaving you to your thoughts.
your phone sits on the counter as you gathered up the courage to text him and soon enough you pressed send.
where are you? we need to talk.
༝༚༝༚
seungcheol had arrived at your door an hour later, knocking lightly on your door you might’ve thought you hadn’t heard him if you didn’t know he was coming over. you opened the door for him not bothering to look at the peephole as he shuffled quietly past you and into your living room. he glanced around the apartment seeing it was still the same way as the day he left you so suddenly. he normally felt at home but this time he felt so tiny and out of place despite all the times he used to come over. he glanced over the familiar paper bag on your kitchen counter with the album and jersey he dropped off.
he could feel your gaze at him but he avoided making eye contact with you which he used to love doing. your eyes were his favorite thing to look at—no matter what you were doing your eyes always showed how you felt despite you not saying it verbally. he would tell you how much he loved your eyes even if he was in the middle of fucking you. he’d often tell you to keep your eyes on him despite you being so fucked out yet you’d do as he asked because you loved how he looked at you. deep down he thinks he knew that the moment he started to look for you in the people he’d interact with everyday was the moment he started seeing you more than just another person he’d call to fuck—he loved you long before he had the guts to let you know and seeing you for the first time after no contact truly did things to him.
“hey.” he spoke softly as he finally looked at you for the first time in a month.
god, you looked so beautiful even if your face held no emotions as you looked at him.
“i did all the talking last time so i think it’s fair i give you this moment to air out your thoughts before i make a decision.” you answered stiffly.
he nodded in understanding as he tried to gather his thoughts together before he opened up his mouth to speak.
“truth be told, i got overwhelmed when you were insinuating that you wanted to be more than just what our set up was but that isn’t a good enough explanation for what i was feeling at that moment.”
it was true, with everything on his plate at that moment it just got suffocating for him so he left without saying anything. it was one of the most stupid thing he had ever done in his life because he wanted nothing more to say something—anything to you.
“i had so much time to think about us over the month of no contact. i learned things about me that i wish i knew the moment you confronted me about what we were and how things were going to play out for us in the long run. i want you, (y/n). i wish i told you that night that i left. i don’t want you just physically because you are so much more to me than just a body to fuck. don’t get me wrong the sex is amazing with you and i feel like i’m on another world when i get to touch you, hold you, and just be with you.” he explains as he inched closer to you.
“but i’m scared to love you. i don’t want to ruin what we have because i’ve seen other couples in our industry get destroyed just because they love each other. i know i can handle the backlash i’d received but i’d hate to be the reason you’d be getting them too—fuck, i love you. god knows when it happened but i do and i can’t stop no matter what i do to try and supress my feelings. you weren’t and aren’t just a good fuck to me—your my entire world and i’m lucky enough to be able to orbit around you like how the moon does.” he could touch your face with how close he was to you by now. the tears falling down your cheeks and he wanted nothing more than to wipe away but he didn’t still unsure about if he could touch you that way again.
“you were the first person i felt both wildly unsure and unwaveringly certain of and i kept falling for you and the little things you’d do. i missed looking into your eyes, kissing your lips when you rambled too much, playing with your hair when we cuddle after sex, the little noises you make when you lose at games, and the way i’d wake up with you in my arms when you let me stay over. i missed you so much baby. i’m so sorry i didn’t contact you sooner.” cheol could feel his voice break as you cupped his cheeks. he leaned into your touch as he caught your scent—your vanilla scented shampoo and a hint of his own perfume mixed together. he loved it.
“you’re an asshole y’know?” she spoke through her tears as she allowed him to run his fingers through her locks. “i missed you.” she peered up at him as he smiled at her.
seungcheol had gazed into her eyes—he stared at her like she was the stars in the sky and he was basking in their glow. he missed her truly and he was going to show her how much he had missed her.
his eyes glanced down on her lips before he had closed the space between them with a kiss. the kiss was full of emotions; longing, happiness, and desire. it had been the longest since he went without being able to touch her body, the longest time being a month when he was away on tour.
he doesn't know when his obsession with you started, but one look at your bambi like eyes and he was hooked. jailed and chained to nights filled with your doe eyes brimming tears and cries of pleasure. oh the sweet sounds you’d make because of him.
"you like that? hmm?" a moan escapes your lips as he palmed your soaked sleep shorts.
“yes.” you answer breathlessly as you feel him lift you up and lock your legs around his hips. gravity causing you to settle down with your cunt pressed against his hard dick.
“oh fuck.” he groaned as he felt your wet cunt slide down his dick. “i missed having you like this baby.”
he had managed to get you both into your room as quickly as he could without bumping into your stuff with his lips on yours before setting you down in your bed. he littered your thighs with kisses as he pulled your shorts down revealing you slick cunt.
“no panties tonight, hm?” he smirked as you blushed.
“you make me go insane baby.” he removed his shirt along with his bottoms bearing all himself for you to see—not that you haven’t seen it before.
cheol dipped a finger into your core, working around the sopping wet muscle to fit in a second. he never broke eye contact with you, even as you groaned at the sudden contact as his finger grazed your bundle of nerves .
"it's okay, baby. come look at me, please? look right at me. that’s it, that’s my good girl."
as his fingers began to speed up, the tension in your thighs loosened, giving him more access to the rest of you. your walls took them in with ease as you welcome the familiar sensation of his fingers being stuffed in you, the wet sucking noises beginning to fill the room along with your moans. his breath is steady as ever, as if he's breathing you through this in an effort to slow you down from getting there before he even gets to truly have his way with you the way that he intends. he hadn’t fucked you in so long—he was going to take his sweet time.
your eyes locked into his—his favourite sight ever seeing you like that, breath hitching in the back of your throat catching the soft cries of his name that you tried to utter. pulling back, cheol removed his fingers from you with a slick pop, sticking the digits into his mouth, cleaning them of your cum.
"always so sweet," he remarked, dragging his thumb across his lip, and bringing it to yours. instinctively, you began to suck on it, slowly letting the taste of your own arousal coats your tongue. you could feel his hard-on pressing into your thigh, the heat between your legs drawing him in ever closer. it was intoxicating. in all your relationship's timespan, you were never sure of the exact moment that you had started to like him at a different light, but you knew that it lay somewhere in the hours he spent buried in between your thighs as he ate you out like he had been starving for years.
"i wanna feel you," your voice was just above a whisper. interlacing your fingers, his hand much bigger than your own, his entire body appeared massive in the small slivers of light that were in the room. your hand wrapped around the base of his swollen erection, a string of curses escaping his lips as you ran your hands up and down the length, icy fingertips teasing at his prominent veins. shifting his weight and allowed your hands to guide him, lining up perfectly with your glistening slit as his head teased at the entrance a few times, positioning itself just mere centimeters from your cunt.
"i love you so much cheol—fuck." you moaned out as your fingers dug into his back.
with eyes locked onto each other, your mouth fell open as he bottomed out. it took you no time to adjust, but the shockwaves ripped through your body just the same as they always did when you were this sensitive for him. he knew that you didn't have long from the way your walls clenched around his dick. it took a few seconds of adjustment, but he nestled himself inside, lowering his head to whisper into your ear.
"i'm gonna move now, 'kay baby?"
you nodded, arms pulling him down to your chest more as his dick dragged itself against your walls. after a few soft, shallow thrusts, your nails bit into his shoulder—the signal that he could go faster. his hips began to rock more evenly, building an even pace as the sounds of your walls began to fill the room. each kiss of his tip against your soft spot gave way to a familiar, lewd squishing noise coming from your delicate hole. your whines only urged him to go a step further, nails raking down his back so hard you were sure you had begun to draw blood. his body was marred with scars, but you knew that every scar on his back had been left there by you, an ever present reminder of the sleepless nights together you two shared.
"cheol—please, please harder," you croaked. he was right where you needed him, but not giving in. he was such an tease.
"are you sure you want more?" his demeanor shifted as lust consumed him.
"i'm not gonna hold back, you know," he started.
"i missed fucking this cunt—fuck—not gonna slow down until you're shaking."
he started ramming into you even harder, each thrust jolting your body backward and further up the surface of the mattress. he was slipping, eyes beginning to lose their light even as they were still locked onto yours. you could feel his grip around your waist getting stronger, digging into you. the veins in his arms started to bulge, he was losing himself in the euphoric washes of your body. you were shaking already, clamping down on his thick cock erratically.
"not going to stop until you're so cock-drunk on me."
every dizzying motion of his hips had your blood rushing to every part of your body. the wall in your abdomen began to shatter as you could feel your own mind slip.
"cheol—it's—i'm—baby—i'm gonna—" you could barely manage getting the words out. he placed a thumb in your mouth again, giving you some semblance of comfort all the while egging you on.
curse him and his high endurance.
"go on, cum for me. cum for your cheol baby."
you yielded to him completely, body simply going limp, giving in to euphoria as your climax overwhelmed your frame. you couldn't stop yourself from letting go completely, gushing your own translucent slick over his own lower half, tilting him over the edge.
"fuck," he moaned out as he reached his own high. "here it comes—here it fucking comes..."
he kissed you through it, groaning into your mouth with his cock throbbing inside you and painting your insides with thick, milky white.
"Gotta—fuck—stuff my pretty baby so full."
and that he did.
as his own comedown presented itself, he collapsed onto you. you watched his chest rise and fall for a few seconds, assuring yourself that he was still all the way there. his head lifted, eyes meeting your watchful gaze. they were bright, admirable, and warm.
"i love you," cheol murmured into your hairline, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. he had pulled you to his chest to cuddle after chasing your highs. you squirmed a bit, repositioning yourself so that you could run your fingertips up and down his chest, tracing every curvature of his skin.
"i love you too," you cooed.
prying him off you for a second, you were about to stumble in the darkness toward the bathroom only to be pulled back into his chest with his own brute strength.
"i have to pee, cheol," you laughed as he caged you in his arms.
“let me join you and get you cleaned up.”
“you and i both know that won’t happen when your in there with me.” you chuckle as you melt into his arms.
“well then…round 2?” he smiled.
༝༚༝༚
you had woken up in a state of pure bliss with your body flush against cheol’s as his arm draped over your hip keeping you close to him.
it wasn’t a dream. he was here. your cheol was here.
you traced over his features as he slept soundly. you couldn’t help yourself—he looked beautiful under the light of the morning light. you could get used to this. he stirs in his sleep as you run your fingers through his blonde locks.
“g’morning baby.” he greets voice deep and raspy from sleep.
“hi handsome.” you smile as he pulls you closer to him and pecks you on your forehead.
“i could get used to this.”
“happy album release day baby.” you greet softly as you peppered his jaw with kisses.
“thank you, did you like my gift for you?” he asked as you pull away and slap his chest.
“you’re so horny. can’t we not associate everything with sex?” you tease as he raised a brow at you.
“baby i was talking about the jersey and the album i had wonwoo sign for you.” he deadpanned as you beam in excitement.
“oh my god! i forgot about that—wait right here.” you run out of the room as cheol laughs at you.
he felt so happy seeing you so happy but he wasn’t that happy seeing you walk back into your room with just wonwoo’s jersey on.
“i think this is my new favourite top. whatcha think baby?” you smile as you twirl around to show cheol wonwoo’s name on the back of the jersey instead of his.
“mm looks good.” he answers curtly brows knitting together in annoyance.
“i know right! wonwoo’s built is so much bugger than mine that this looks like a dress on me.” you played with the hem of the jersey as you hear cheol scoff in annoyance.
“take it off baby.” he grumbles as you shake your head no.
“nu-uh, it’s really comfy.”
“baby you have my exact same jersey. just wear mine.” he points towards his jersey as you shrug.
“but wonwoo’s my bias—”
“—and yet you weren’t cumming all over his dick last night were you? come on baby just wear mine.” he butts in as you raise a brow at him.
“are you jealous mr. choi?” you tease your arms on your hips.
“me? jealous of your crush on wonwoo? no way.” he answers defensively.
“you won’t mind me wearing this around then.” you sit at the edge of the bed turning you back on cheol as you scroll through your phone.
you felt him creep up behind you as the mattress dips from his weight. his hand snakes around your throat as your pulled back into his chest a smirk playing on your lips from how he’s acting.
“you’re mine baby. so i’ll give you two options: change and wear my jersey or…” he tightens his grip on your neck as he whispers in your ear. “i fuck you so hard you won’t know anyone else’s name but mine.”
“i think i’ll keep the jersey on,” you bit your lip excitedly as you hear him chuckle from behind you.
“always such a brat. well, buckle up baby. you’re in for such an eventful day.”
let’s just say you were so cock drunk from cheol’s dick that you couldn’t walk straight for a couple hours needing his assistance throughout the day.
#seventeen#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen scenarios#choi seungcheol#seungcheol smut#scoups x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeenfanfic#seventeen smut#choi seungcheol smut#seventeen fanfic#seventeen seungcheol
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
A Beneficial Arrangement
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: A marriage pact with a Viscount. What could possibly go wrong?
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), loss of virginity, vaginal sex. Bickering, developing relationship.
Word Count: 6.1 k
Authors Note: Unbetaed. Anon request fill from HERE (Anthony and a headstrong independent reader make an unconventional marriage pact). Sorry it's taken so long to write this, but I hope you enjoy! <3
It’s a dreary, rather ordinary Tuesday in spring when your life takes a turn.
“The Viscount is in want of a wife.”
That statement is all you hear as you walk past the drawing room where your mother is taking tea with her good friend, the dowager Viscountess Bridgerton.
“My eldest needs a husband,” your mother responds, offering you as if merely chattel; bile rises indignantly as she does so. “But I fear she is far too outspoken to be a suitable Viscountess.”
You sigh in relief, ear pressed to the closed door now.
“Oh, believe me, nothing would be a better match for my darling Anthony than someone who will challenge him, stand up to him,” Violet peals a knowing laugh. “We should arrange a meeting.”
——
3 days later.
He assesses you with a cool eye as your gaze drifts briefly over to both of your mothers, watching expectantly from a nearby table in the tea shop.
“You should know I will only be taking a wife to fulfil my societal duty,” he sniffs airly. “However, I do not expect you to produce an heir. The title may pass to my younger brothers; they are more inclined to form romantic attachments than I. Their offspring can inherit this title; it feels like a curse anyhow,” he adds quieter, his tone mildly embittered.
“Well, on your attitude to marriage, I can wholeheartedly agree,” you state, stirring your tea primly. “I do not wish to be shackled. I wish to remain free. I shall marry, as there is no other path available to me, but I do not plan nor do I ever want to be someone's wife.” You utter the word with disdain as if it is toxic.
His admittedly very handsome face transforms into one of surprise, a faint dot of colour on his cheeks as he peers at you as if assessing you in a new light.
“What?” You frown at him, his silent stare becoming too heavy to bear as his interest and engagement intensify.
“You are the first woman I have ever met who shares my outlook,” he confesses, seemingly caught off-guard. “It is so utterly refreshing… and, frankly, novel.” He pauses to pass his fingers slowly over his lips in a way that makes your stomach swoop, even if you refuse to acknowledge such even to yourself. “I do believe we should meet again to discuss this further,” he concludes.
And thus, you find yourself with the suit of one Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, both of your mothers overjoyed at the prospect.
——
9 days later.
“If I must marry, you are the most tolerable woman I have met, I must concede,” he states nonchalantly as you meet to promenade.
It’s quite an opening line for only your third meeting, even for someone as renownedly blunt as the Viscount.
“And a good afternoon to you too, Viscount Bridgerton,” you drawl pointedly with a raised eyebrow, subtly hinting how his greeting may have been lacking.
He chuckles, a flash of what looks like admiration in his dark eyes.
“As such,” he continues, “I would not be averse to a martial arrangement with you. An agreement, a pact if you will, based on our mutual understanding of what we both want from such an endeavour.”
The speed and pragmatism of his apparent proposal do not surprise you in the least. In fact, you are actually grateful for the lack of ceremony around it. If you must marry, you prefer it be swift.
“Did you mean what you said last week? In the tearoom?” You quiz as you begin to walk shoulder to shoulder through Hyde Park, the early summer air heavy with the scent of roses.
“Every word,” he replies solemnly.
“Then, I suppose this is a beneficial arrangement for me too,” you shrug as if agreeing about the weather, not the very course of your future. But there is something about this man that feels inevitable, fateful, but not in a way you dread. Also, his face is so very pleasing. If you must indeed marry, at least the view across the dinner table will be nice.
“Then it is decided,” he nods decisively, a brusque smile passing over his lips. “I so greatly appreciate your candidness with regard to this matter. It makes the whole business so much easier to deal with.”
He offers a hand to shake, and you take it, bemused, shaking on the deal, pretending this mere touch doesn't make every butterfly in your stomach roar to life.
“I shall make the arrangements swiftly,” he states, again with a short smile and nod.
You are married within three weeks.
——
6 weeks later.
‘‘What on earth is this?” he practically spits as he rounds the corner of Bridgerton House onto the back lawn.
“What does it look like?” you sass, tearing the netted visor from your face.
“It looks an awful lot like my wife is fencing,” his reply dripping with conceited judgement.
“Well, I’m glad to know you do not need glasses, husband,” you respond dryly, nodding to accept the excuses of the butler you were sparring with, who suddenly seems very keen to scurry away now the Viscount has arrived.
“Perkins, do not think this has gone unnoticed,” Anthony calls pointedly after the retreating man.
“Leave him alone!” you bark, taking your husband aback with your ferocity, him turning to you and almost gaping in surprise. “Perkins must do my bidding as lady of the house, and I told him to fence with me,” you elucidate, keen that the innocent party not suffer any consequences for your decision.
“Women do not fence,” he sniffs, changing the subject somewhat.
“This one does,” you riposte, spearing your epee tip into the grass to remove the suede gloves.
“It is unbecoming of a Viscountess,” he adds almost haughtily.
“Good thing such matters hold no truck with me,” you shrug, knowing you are likely provoking him.
To hell with what is appropriate for a titled lady. The title, and all of its stifling rules and expectations, is the very last reason you married the man standing before you. No, the reason is far, far more simultaneously complex and simple than that. He excites you—in ways you don't even want to admit to yourself.
It’s not something you would divulge to anyone, but arguing with your new husband has become your new favourite pastime. On the rare occasions you see him, that is. Since your wedding day, you have mostly been ships passing at the dinner table; otherwise, your lives have been very separate. At night, his rooms are at the other end of the long hallway from yours, and his days are apparently filled with business obligations. While the utter freedom to fill your days as you wish has been a blessing, it’s also been perhaps a touch lonely.
When you do see Anthony, you invariably end up clashing about something. And, well, it’s often the highlight of your week. A thrill zipping down your spine as you do so. The only person you have met who can keep up with your verbal sparring. It makes you excited, breathless, dizzy, a fizz low in your belly that feels entirely beguiling. Today is no different; you feel that same sensation as he stares at you, arms crossed, exasperated.
“Well, if you insist upon this rebellious pastime,’ he sighs after a few beats, snatching your epee, “the least you can do is improve your grip,” he grouses, rolling his eyes.
You startle as he crowds into your back, a warm hand wrapping around yours as he passes you the blade and demonstrates a different way to wield it that you concede feels better. The spike of victory in your bloodstream from winning the argument morphs into something entirely different as he stands behind you, his breath tickling your ear and the tendrils of your hair as he provides instruction.
You try to take the details on board, but your thoughts scatter with his overwhelming proximity. How have you never noticed the stirring amber notes of his cologne before? Or how very broad his chest is compared to his slim hips? Perhaps because this is the closest you have ever been, his body heat seeping into your spine, your heart fluttering hard against your ribs. You can’t decide if this effect your husband can have on you is the best or the worst thing. Somehow, it feels like both.
——
1 month later.
You are both relieved to avoid most of the season on the pretence of being on honeymoon, but inevitably, the time comes when you must debut as a married couple. Speculation about you growing ever since Lady Whistledown breathlessly reported your nuptials, a nearly unknown minor Ton member rapidly snaring the most eligible of perenially eligible bachelors.
So when you enter your first ball as Viscountess Bridgerton, all eyes are upon you. You feel mildly uncomfortable bedecked in jewels and a heavy silk dress, but know refinement is of importance at events such as these. You just cannot wait to get home and get out of them. This will never be your preferred milieu, a sentiment you apparently share with your husband—underneath his calm, unruffled exterior, you sense his dampened disquiet.
“Smile politely, nod in acknowledgement, but don't engage for any longer than necessary,” he counsels under his breath as an inevitable hush falls over the room when your arrival is announced. You are grateful for his steadfast support, his arm looped reassuringly through yours as you follow his advice, knowing he has navigated these waters much more than you have needed to. “The best thing to do is seem frightfully ordinary,” he explains quietly as you complete a circuit of the room. “They are ravenous for gossip; if none is to be had, their preoccupation will swiftly wane.”
Indeed, the initial excitement about your appearance soon dies down as other, perhaps more flamboyant, guests arrive. People approach expressing surprise about your union, but once he economically explains you just knew you were right for each other, they often quickly move on, seeming almost disappointed at the lack of apparent scandal.
As the evening progresses, you school your tongue at some of the barbs you overhear, more out of a wish to be left alone rather than any adherence to social rules. Most of the things that appear to preoccupy the Ton you have little patience for. As Anthony spends some time with business acquaintances, you eventually find yourself in the company of the female members of his family, whom you are quickly becoming very fond of with every passing day in their company. Particularly his benevolent mother and headstrong sister, Eloise. In fact, the latter is the primary witness to the flare of your true nature, fatigue overriding your ability to remain silent.
Cressida Cowper is being particularly venomous about a mutual acquaintance. Eloise is quick with her witty tongue in reply, and you cannot stop yourself from piling on your scorn as well.
“Perhaps if the braiding of your hair were less painful, it would allow you greater empathy,” you retort before you can stop yourself.
Eloise’s responding guffaw sprays lemonade all over Cressida, whose shocked mien is the last thing you see before she turns heel to attend to her ruined dress in private.
“That was sensational!” Eloise wheezes in awe as she blots the remnants of her beverage from her chin.
You sigh.
“It was unwise,” you correct, knowing you have probably just made an enemy of one of the worst gossips of the Ton.
“It was wholly accurate and justified,” a cool, authoritative voice cuts in, and you look up to find your husband before you, a rapt glint in his eye that makes your lungs feel tight. It appears he may have also been witness to the moment.
Eloise’s eyes briefly ping-pong between the two of you, and then she loops an arm into the crook of Anthony’s as you continue to gaze at each other, cataloguing something new about each other that you mutually admire.
“I like her,” Eloise nods at you. “Excellent choice of wife, brother,” she grins.
It breaks the spell between you but seems to further ingratiate you with at least one member of his family. And that makes you feel light as air in a way you don't fully understand.
——
2 months later.
Funnily enough, it’s another random Tuesday when your life takes a complete turn. Yet again, you find yourself in another heated debate with your husband of barely twelve weeks. This time while sojourning at your country estate, Aubrey Hall.
“Must you?” Anthony gripes, standing up from his desk and rounding towards where you stand.
“Must I what? Speak my mind?” you bite back, hands on your hips.
“Be so damn argumentative,” he expounds, hands also on hips, chest heaving a little, “urghh, you are so aggravating!”
“Same!” You shoot back. “I have never met a man quite as disagreeable as you,” you add, not realising as you argue that you have taken steps closer and are now huffing irritated breaths close to each other's faces.
“Why did you agree to marry me then?” he snarls, his gaze suddenly fixated on your bottom lip, unbeknownst to you, it’s glistening and swollen from biting in irritation at his demeanour.
“Right now, I have no earthly idea,” you volley in return, but your pounding heart gives away the real reason. No one makes you feel quite as alive as Anthony, even when he is driving you up the wall, like right now. “Why did you agree to marry me, seeing as I am so very ‘aggravating’?” you spit, parroting the word back at him.
His stare blisters as he draws himself to full height right before you.
“We made a pact,” he huffs, “this is duty, nothing more.”
But the way he breathes and holds himself speaks to something else. A war in his body and mind. The maelstrom in his eyes belying his words… and then it hits you. So singular it knocks the wind from your lungs. This is desire. He wants you. In all the ways a man can want a woman.
And damn it all to hell if you don’t feel precisely the same.
“For me as well,” your tart, mendacious reply is bitter on your tongue.
The tension in the air is taut like a cord, ready to snap. You both toe to toe, noses almost touching, laboured breaths as you stare each other down like some game to see who will capitulate first.
“I do believe we are at an impasse… wife,” the last word dripping with disdain, but he is leaning closer than he ever has, his lips fractional inches from yours.
“It would appear so…,” you concur, “…husband,” you roll the last word slowly, lingering on the end of the first syllable as if it is both a treat and a bitter pill on your tongue.
“I have been raised a gentleman,” he hisses, “but there are times that you test my resolve.”
“I do nothing of the sort!” you decry, knowing you are lying even to yourself now. Somedays lately, you live to simply push his buttons, just to see what he will do. “And resolve of what? To not be a good husband? Because I can tell you, forthright, you are doing a wonderful job of being a terrible husband,” you goad, knowing you are poking the proverbial beast now.
“I give you a wonderful home to run as you please, I give you the freedom to pursue whatever pastimes you wish, I let you speak your mind. As Viscountess, the world is yours. What else could you possibly want in a husband? I do not ask you to do things, wifely things, that I could,” he warns, his voice buzzing low. “I could demand you submit to my will; it is my right,” he growls.
A flame behind your ribs catches fire, even as your eyes flash indignant.
“You do not wish for that sort of wife; you told me as much yourself.” It’s a heated whisper, much breathier than you mean it to be.
“A man can change his mind,” he gravels, “same as a woman can change hers if she wishes.”
“What made you change your mind?”
He fixes you with a hypnotic, weighted stare.
“You.”
The way that one word drips from his lips tilts your whole existence. It’s so loaded you don’t know what to say. Unmoored, your system awash with chemicals, your mind flooding with images of sketches you have seen of men and women together. Of what the marital act can entail. It’s something you believed would not ever be a part of your marriage, your life, even, but now….
Now your handsome husband is staring at you, ragged breaths, face wild, telling you he has changed his mind. Maybe he wants that sort of marriage, that sort of union. Something gallops hard in your chest as he steps away, as if wrongly intuiting you are about to turn down his suit, and something bubbles up from deep inside you.
“Do not dare,” you growl.
His mouth falls open in shock.
“Do not tease me so and leave me wanting,” you continue with a boldness and timbre you barely recognise as your own. “‘Tis crueller to build false hope than to take what you want,” you sniff and stare him down, so wholly decisive in your intentions and desires. If this is the nudge he needs, you’ll give it.
“You want me to exercise my conjugal rights?” he falters, appearing utterly stunned.
You don’t answer; just do one thing, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. You close the last few inches and press your lips to his.
They are soft and plush against yours, making your insides warm and glowing. Then, Anthony makes a noise in the back of his throat, and suddenly, he is kissing you back. So ferociously, you squeak into his mouth as he opens your lips and slides his tongue over yours, his strong arms pulling you into an embrace so you are enveloped by his warm body.
Good lord.
You feel like you are drowning in him as he grabs your jaw, directing the kiss, turning it into something wholly other. Your lips move endlessly together as you both greedily take from the other for what seems like ages. When you pull apart, you are both heaving breaths and staring at each other, almost confused.
“Don’t you dare do that again,” you snarl, wanting to rip every item of clothing from your body and his.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds airily.
And then you crash into each other again. Drinking desperately from each other's mouths, powerless to resist whatever flame draws you together.
He walks you backwards as your tongues tangle, and you startle slightly as your bottom hits his imposing desk. Hands loop around your thighs, and he hoists you into the surface, never breaking the intoxicating kiss.
He tries to step between your legs, but your column dress is too tight to allow it. You attempt to wiggle the hem upwards as you kiss, then, with a frustrated grunt, he bats your hands away and, using a strength that shocks you, rips the silk material asunder from the hem to your hip.
“I loved this dress!” you decry over his lips, unwilling to admit you’d destroy every single dress you own if he just kept kissing you like this.
“I’ll buy you another,” he dismisses, pushing your thighs wide with his hands. “I’ll buy you as many as you want.”
“You had better,” you challenge, scarcely able to believe you even have the wherewithal to debate with him, especially as this is the first time a man has ever touched your bare leg.
He pulls back from the kiss to stare intently into your eyes as his fingertips trace from your kneecap up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You don’t mean to, but you tremble, having never been touched this way before. You gasp as his palm cups the apex of your thighs, his hand feeling so warm through the thin silk protecting your modesty, his fingers swirling circles over your patch of hair as the heel of his palm presses against your slit.
“I can feel your heat,” he hisses.
You can barely process what is happening, your body rioting as he touches and teases you, staring you down. Instinctively, you reach for the tiny buttons at your hip, but your hands fall away as he flicks his middle finger downwards and catches a nub that makes your body buck.
“Anthony,” it falls from your lips unbidden with a halting breath. It may well be the first time you have uttered his first name in his presence.
He groans at the sound. “Please, always say my name like that,” he pleads through gritted teeth.
So you repeat it, the same intonation, even as that finger drags slowly up and down over the swollen pearl between your legs, undone by how good it feels.
“Are you chaste?” he inquires; it’s not judgemental in tone, just pure curiosity, his ministrations lighter.
“Yes,” you admit quietly, “but I do know of the marital act”, you add, wanting him to know you are not entirely innocent.
“Hmm,” he hums, looking at once thoughtful and blistering, his finger moving more insistently again, “I am glad to hear it. Then you shall not be entirely shocked by what is about to happen?”
“So… we are to undertake it? The act?” you stutter, his finger making you feel so good you have to bite your lip.
But he doesn’t answer your question directly.
“Wife, how attached are you to these undergarments?” his tone almost idle, cocking his head to the side as his gaze lingers over them.
You shrug practically. “I have many exactly the same.”
Then, you gasp loudly as the sound of silk tearing fills the room. You are quaking as the warm air of his study swirls around your exposed, damp slit. He shocks you by dropping to his knees before you. Pushing your thighs wide on his desk and looking up at you with burningly intense eyes, he presses his face to your flesh, inhaling deeply, his nose buried in your pubic hair before his tongue peeks out and nudges the swollen nub he was teasing through the silk.
Your mouth drops open, and something inhuman escapes your lungs. Then he does it again, this time enclosing the whole area between his lips and sucking hard on your flesh, tongue curling and ploughing into your folds. The heat, the suction, the muscular swipe of his tongue feels so good your mind blanks out, a tremor in your splayed thighs that he holds forcibly open with warm hands. He keeps doing so for a few moments as your fingernails curl hard into the edge of his desk, scarcely able to do anything but writhe and gently moan. IIdly you think upon all of your curious research, never once had you heard of or read about a man doing as he is now, placing his head between his wife’s thighs and sniffing, drinking from her body.
“You are plenty ready for me, wife,” he huffs, his warm breath tickling your responsive folds, little ripples of pleasure deep inside scattering your thoughts. “Are you averse to me taking you right here?” he waves a hand nonchalantly at his large, imposing carved wooden desk.
“I… I rather thought su-such things could only ha-happen in a bed,” you confess stiltedly, a quiver in your voice.
He smirks up from between your thighs, turning his head to kiss the fragile skin there. “Oh, no, wife. We can fuck anywhere we please…” he pauses and looks sincere, “however, should you prefer a bed…”
“Here is fine,” you rush out, so very keen to have your husband make a woman of you. As if leaving this room may break the spell you are under. Location be damned. You just want to know him. He smirks again, placing a final quick kiss on your flesh, looking very pleased at your response.
“I wholeheartedly concur,” he rumbles as he hoists himself back up to stand, stepping inwards to rock his clothed pelvis against your pulsing nub. There is something hot and swollen in his trousers now, and you realise this must be his member.
“Show it to me,” you enthuse, nodding at the insistent bulge.
“So very impatient all of a sudden, wife,” he scolds with a bemused chuckle, grabbing your wrist and guiding your hand over the bump. It feels so hot and steely even through the fabric. “Unbutton me,” he orders casually, pointing to the fastening at his hip.
Exuberantly, you undo them quickly, keen to see if his member matches the sketches you have viewed. As the front of his trousers falls away, he quickly pushes down his white underwear. There, nestled in a thatch of dark hair at the base, is your husband's cock. Your eyes widen at the sight. It seems more considerable than the drawings you have seen, and you are temporarily taken aback by how red and almost angry it looks at the tip.
“Go ahead, touch it,” Anthony encourages, and with a slight tremble in your fingers, you reach forward and make contact with him.
“Oh!” you exclaim without thought, “it’s so soft, your skin, and so hot!”
He chuckles warmly at your assessment. “Indeed,” he huffs as you wrap your hand instinctively around it, feeling its weight and mass in your palm.
“This will not fit inside me, surely?” you blurt out.
“It will, I promise,” his tone mellow, tinged with understanding even as his breath staccatos when you start to move your hand, the instinct to rub inexplicable, but seemingly precisely what he wants. “Yes, perfect,” he rasps, eyes closing and tongue peaking out to lick his lips.
The odd mix of total honesty and soft appreciation between you as you acquaint yourselves with each other's bodies seems very apt, as if this is the only way such a development would ever transpire. And you realise, as you cradle his most intimate parts, that you trust this man with your very being. Despite your bickering, there is a thread of mutual respect under it that makes you feel safe, seen, and known in a way that no other person has.
“Take me now, husband,” you rattle through your teeth, watching a bead of something sticky form at the tip of his cock as you squeeze him in hypnotic, repetitive motions. The sight makes something in your body turn to fiery liquid, wanting him and that substance inside yourself in a way that doesn't make logical sense.
He growls at your words, grabbing your hand away from his cock and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the back of your knuckles as your eyes lock, a chaste, almost romantic interlude.
But then his hands grab your hips and haul you almost roughly to the very edge of the desk, your torn dress framing your splayed thighs, his trousers around his ankles as he takes his cock in hand and rubs the tip over your folds of flesh in a way that makes you moan under your breath.
“Are you certain?” he checks, even as he pants anticipatorily.
“God, yes,” you confirm, craving him in a way you have never felt about anything before. An urgent hook tugging deep inside your loins, calling to him like a siren song.
“Watch,” he murmurs darkly, his other hand rounding the back of your neck so your gaze is tilted down to where his cock nudges your opening.
So you do, as does he. Stare down to where your body meet, hissing loudly as his tip slips inside your soaked channel. Your eyes want to roll back at the sheer overwhelming sensation of it, but equally, it's such an enthralling sight that you can’t look away.
He moans loudly, lewdly, decadently as he pushes further into your heat, pausing to readjust your legs wider and tilt your pelvis more open.
“This next part may hurt, darling,” he whispers quietly, the first time he has ever used such an affectionate term for you, making your heart race.
“It's alright,” you reassure mutely in return, “I have heard as such.”
The hand around the back of your neck slides gently until he tilts your chin up to meet his tender gaze.
“You are quite the woman,” he says, almost reverential, as he leans in and captures your lips in a sweet, soft kiss.
The movement propels his cock deeper into your body, and you cry out into his open mouth at a stab of sharp pain inside.
“That's it done,” he mutters reassuringly into your lips as you whimper gently.
He stills as you adjust to the girth, the heat, and feeling so very filled.
“More…” falls from your mouth spontaneously, the want rising, hungry for a need to be met, a thirst slaked, unlike anything you have experienced.
The smile that breaks out over his face makes your nipples pebble hard in your stays, and he slides deeper as you cling to him, exhaling unevenly as he keeps sinking further into your pussy, pushing you open. Just when you think you cannot take more, he stops, and you feel his body pressing wholly against yours.
You stare at each other, eyes wild and wide, unable to form words but knowing instinctually how good this feels for both of you. He looks untamed, something urgent rippling in his being. And without breaking the gaze, he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock is inside you, then ploughs back in, in one determined, decisive stroke.
You don't stop the decadent noise that escapes your lungs, your toes curling into the soles of your feet at how wonderful and all-encompassing that feels. Same as you don't miss the victorious smirk on his face at your reaction.
Then it’s a hungry blur of movement as your hands grab his biceps through his clothing, clinging on for dear life as he proceeds to move just like that first thrust. Over and over. Building in pace and with increasing intensity, him sensing your need for such things.
“Anthony…” his name spills over your lips again, and the impact on him is nothing short of extraordinary.
His hands clamp vicelike to your hips, branding heatedly over your skin through your dress, straining the tendons of your inner thighs as he pushes your legs open impossibly wide, his pelvis crashing into yours in a way you are certain may leave bruises. And what shocks you most is just how much you want it. Want him to leave signs of his presence, want to look in the mirror and see the outline of his digits in the globes of your bottom.
He moans your name, hot and desperate, into your ear, his pace never wavering, a drop of sweat forming on his forehead that you can't look away from when he pulls back to tilt your heads together.
“I want to see,” you stumble out, pantingly, as he takes you harder.
“See what?” he sounds almost winded, his thrusts still spearing his cock into your body.
“See you entering me,” you huff into his cheek.
His responding noise is feral and has every inch of your body alight. He bows his spine outward so your bodies only touch where you are joined, and his hand feels heated and heavy on the back of your neck as you tilt your chin down to take in the sight.
His cock, rigid and huge, ploughing repeatedly into your body, shining with a slick substance you can only assume is from within you, the sight making you shudder, but not with anything approaching disgust. It’s something primal. A need to chase a conclusion, the power of the vivid tableau burned into your retinas.
“Don't stop, please don't stop,” you petition, looking back up to his face, your hands sliding up and down his torso now, raking urgent fingernails over his clothing.
He swears, and his lips are back on yours, searing and demanding. This feels like a frantic wave you are riding together, a trickle of moisture running down your spine as you start to push your hips forward as much as you can, meeting his thrusts halfway.
“You are fucking perfect,” he snarls over your tongue, and you couldn't agree more.
Time seems elastic as he lowers you so your back rests on the piles of no doubt important paperwork, not that he pays it any mind, him hunched over you, pulling your hips out over the edge now, the range of motion it allows him making you gasp. He is taking you without mercy now, breath hot on your throat as he moans your name, his hand squirrelling between your bodies and making your vision dance with dots as he passes a slightly calloused tip over your clit.
“Come for me,” he breathes, the request both hopeful and commanding.
“What does that mean?” your question puffed into his lush hairline.
“Oh my darling, just you wait,” his voice dripping with promise even as your skin feels like it wants to vibrate off your very bones as his fingers and cock take you somewhere you never envision. An ecstasy both outside but rooted deep in your being.
He murmurs encouragingly as you struggle for air, your lungs burning, scarcely remembering to breathe, skating some kind of precipice that feels dangerous and addictive. Then, with a flick of his thumb and a gentle bite of your earlobe, you fall into an abyss. Everything all at once quiet and loud, eyes screwed shut as colours burst behind them, and every fibre of your being seems to snap and break, rearranging in a mind-shattering way. Your pussy convulsing hard around his cock that now seems impossibly large.
Then, with a deep booming cry, you feel him lance deeper than ever, his whole body tensing and jerking. A warmth spreads inside, and you vaguely realise he is reaching completion, spilling his seed inside you. For what seems like ages, your mind and body float somewhere, utterly sated, suddenly understanding why this act can be so all-consuming and there is so much written of it.
When your mind returns to the room, you are panting into each other's necks, both breathlessly stunned at how animalistic your first intimacy was. Somehow, your antagonistic chemistry transmuting into an explosive, consuming passion.
“We are going to bed right now,” his tone wrecked, rough, so damn irresistible you want to bite his flesh, even while you still recover from what transpired. Fires stoked again just by those seven words.
He pulls up his trousers haphazardly, picks you up bridal-style, and sweeps you out of his office and up the grand staircase, ignoring the shocked looks of staff at your torn dress and his roughly pulled clothing.
“We are not to be disturbed,” he barks at his valet, who blanches and leaves the room as Anthony practically throws you onto his imposing four-poster bed. Then, as you lay there, he strips naked before you, and you want to nuzzle every inch of his toned, magnificent body.
___
It’s three days before you reemerge from what is now your joint bedroom. From that day on, you are never without your husband for more than two days; such is your magnetic need for each other. And when your belly swells with the first of your many children, he confesses his ardent, undying love for you, you returning the sentiment instantly, having felt the same for what seems like forever.
A hurried, naive pact between two proud, independent souls becoming something wholly other—a loving, passionate marriage of equals. You still squabble with unerring frequency, but now it ends in lovemaking, the intensity sweeping you both into an ephemeral bliss.
A beneficial arrangement indeed.
Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @vane28282 @kisskissshutmydoor
#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton smut#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x female reader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton x y/n#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton smut#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton#1k notes#1k notes omg you guys!#2k notes#2k notes holy crap you guys!#3k notes#3k notes WOAH that's amazing you guys#4k notes#4k notes is INSANE TYSM
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗠𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader
࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: yuuji sees a completely different side of gojo-sensei !
contents: tooth rotting fluff w a dash of angst! established relationship (married), second person & told from yuuji’s pov. extremely whipped satoru! petnames, suggestive dialogue
summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone
yuuji was initially ecstatic about the prospect of living with gojo-sensei. he’d imagined lazing around, gorging on sweets and watching cartoons on tv — maybe a few training sessions squeezed in with gojo-sensei — ideally it would’ve been just the two of them.
his fantasies came crashing down when realised gojo-sensei’s “house” was actually a “home”. the walls in the foyer were riddled with picture frames. he felt like he was intruding on gojo-sensei’s personal life, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the pictures on the walls.
there was a woman beside gojo-sensei in most of the pictures. she had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. a friend? or a girlfriend? — nah. according to fushiguro, gojo-sensei got zero play. though she had to mean something to him. it was evident in the way he looked at her.
his cerulean eyes entirely averted the camera lens, instead devoted to committing every inch of her to memory
“that’s my wife” gojo said softly,“she’s gorgeous isn’t she?” he laughed wryly as he stared lovingly at the smiling woman in the photo. yuuji nodded slowly, studying his teacher closely.
“is she okay with me hiding out here?” he asked tentatively, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.
“ahhh about that” gojo says sheepishly, “i haven’t had the time to mention it to her so you’ll have to wait here while i talk to her” he ran a hand through his hair, snowy white tendrils curling around his fingers.
classic gojo-sensei.
“oh” yuuji chuckled, the situation was amusing to him. he couldn’t wait to tell fushiguro — the sour reminder that he couldn’t had his laughter dying in his throat.
gojo-sensei shrugged off his shoes and patted yuuji’s shoulder, “don’t worry she’ll say yes , i’ve got her wrapped around my finger”
yuuji waited patiently in the foyer, amber eyes flickering over the expensive decor and woodsy frames of gojo-sensei’s family. he could faintly make out traces of your conversation
"oh? you're home early for once" you smiled, leaning into your husband as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "what's the special occasion 'toru?"
"do i need a reason to want to see my beautiful wife?”
“nope” you hummed, “‘m just surprised to see you” not that you were complaining. satoru was a busy man and you cherished the rare moments you spent alone together
“how was your day sweets?” he asked, taking your hand in his, his thumb stroked over knuckles, soft, loving.
“same old” you shrugged, “we’ve got some big case coming up next week, so i was pretty busy today. had a tonne of paperwork and meetings too"
"my busy bee" he smiles, "i missed you s'much, i hate going on these stupid business trips"
"you'd like them more if i came with you" you said teasingly, poking his rib with your free hand "i ran into kento the other day, you sure i shouldn't come back to jujutsu sorcery too?"
"nuh uh" he shook his head firmly, "stay at your law firm pretty, 'm gonna need someone to defend me when i kill all the higher ups"
"what have they done now?" you sigh exasperatedly, turning the knob on the gas cooker and reducing the heat. the faint clicking sound echoes in the kitchen as the orange-blue flames simmered quietly.
"what haven't they done" he grumbled, leaning against the counter. he gently tugged at his blindfold, lithe fingers unveiling the cerulean eyes that you loved so much. his snowy hair fell softly around his face, a curtain that failed to hide the anger he felt coursing through his veins.
"poor baby" you cooed, hands trailing up to his face and cupping his cheeks, your fingers smoothed over the frown etched on his face, pushing his lips together in a duck-lipped pout, "wanna tell me about it?"
"y'know yuuji? the new first year that's sukuna's vessel?"
you nod, allowing your hands to fall from his face and rest on the counter. his greedy hands make their way to your waist, rubbing circles on the soft flesh peeking out beneath your untucked dress shirt.
"well they sent the first years on a mission to rescue people from the detention center, after sending me on that stupid mission overseas mind you, and the kid had to fight a special grade curse"
"is he okay?" you ask, hands ghosting over satoru's bigger, veiny ones. he sighs, a look of mild irritation fleeting over his face at the memory. in retrospect, none of that mattered now. he was home.
"yeah he's fine" he shrugs, "sukuna ripped his heart out and he died, but he revived him eventually"
"your definition of fine is questionable satoru" you snicker, and he feels his heart melting at the sound of your laughter. "why'd they send them on that mission anyways?"
"they just want yuuji dead, he was supposed to be executed remember? and they're really scared of sukuna which is crazy 'cause he's kinda weak"
"someone needs to humble you" you say, amusement dripping from your words like honey, "pride comes before fall 'toru"
"you humble me all the time sweets" he grins, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.
"i'm just doing the universe a favour" you tease, "what do you want for dinner? rice? noodles? or we could order food from that thai joint you like if you want”
"i'll eat anything you cook sweets,” he murmurs, “though i have something else i wouldn’t mind eating”
“satoru” you gasped, “you just got home and you’re already trying to get between my legs” you smack his shoulder playfully
“i’ve missed her too” he shrugs, “i’ve missed all of you”
you shook your head, “can’t believe i married such a feen” a languid smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you could try all you wanted to resist his charms, but he’d always win in the end
"so...about yuuji" satoru starts, testing the waters, "the higher ups really want him gone, i can't keep him at jujutsu tech right now"
"i can see why you wouldn't" you hum, leaning on the tips of your toes to reach for the salt. satoru had a habit of placing the things you needed in places you couldn't reach just so he could have the honour of retrieving them for you
“need help with that sweets?” he asks eagerly, pushing himself off the counter and sifting through the wooden shelves. he easily brings the jar of salt down and hands it to you
"you have to stop doing this, it’s such an inconvenience" you sighed, but you were grateful nonetheless.“you’re insufferable i swear”
“‘m still yours” he says suavely. satoru’s smile is unwavering though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
you can tell the thing with yuuji is weighing heavily on his mind. he’s more restless than usual. his lithe fingers run up and down the counter as he stares into space
“‘toru?” you prompt, nudging him with your elbow, “i can hear you thinking”
“i don’t know where to keep him” he exhales, “i would ask shoko, or kento but then i’d risk getting them in trouble with the higher ups”
“what about the secret room we found in our third year?” you asked, “you could keep him there, unless they found out about it”
“i would keep him there.. but i just...don't want him to feel alone," he says softly. you didn’t think it was possible to fall even deeper in love with satoru, but he never failed to surprise you. “he's just a kid, so i— i want to look out for him.”
he knows it’s a big ask. you can hear the gears turning in his head as he figures out how to possibly convince you to let sukuna’s vessel stay in your home.
"can he stay?" he pleads, "can yuuji stay with us please? it’s only until the kyoto goodwill event" he's clasping his hands together, imploring you with his infinitely blue eyes. you raise an eyebrow. knowing satoru, yuuji was probably waiting around in the foyer
"he's already here isn't he?" you ask, shaking your head fondly as a guilty look flickers across his face. classic satoru. although you would've loved for him to give you a heads up, you didn't mind a bit. it would be nice to have some company when satoru went on his missions
“i didn’t really have time to plan all the details before bringing him with me” he says, sheepishly rubbing a hand behind his neck, his fingers brushed against the soft strands of his undercut, "are you mad? don't be mad baby"
"no" you laugh, "i'm not mad 'toru, he can stay"
it’s the little things like this that make you realise just how much power you have over him. within seconds your husband is whirling you around, hands gripping your waist tightly and pressing chaste kisses on your face as he sets you down
"yuuji she said you can stay" a wide grin blooms across his face as he bounds into the foyer excitedly. the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, reduced to the faint resemblance of a child getting their first sleepover approved
you set the jar of salt down on the marbled counter. trailing after your husband. true to your suspicions, yuuji itadori had been standing awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs together in his hoodie pockets and silently taking in the intricacies of your home.
he couldn’t help but feel out of place.
there were pairs of everything — shoes neatly arranged on the coat rack. umbrellas tucked in a corner in the foyer. coats hung up next to each other on the wall.
the pale blue wallpaper hung row after row of framed photographs. their wooden mahogany panels reflected the warm lights. yuuji’s light brown eyes flickered on the pictures in all their glory and glossy sheen.
the ones that caught his eye captured a young fushiguro’s trademark scowl, the irritated quirk of his brow and the curled spikes of his hair that defied gravity.
he was standing beside a girl who looked just like him, except she was slightly taller with long bone-straight brown hair. yuuji’s eyes lingered on her smile as your beanstalk of a husband shook him excitedly
he wondered what fushiguro would say if he knew he’d seen pictures of him as a little kid. ( he’d probably summon his shikigami on him )
“really?” he beamed, eyes momentarily drawn away from the plethora of frames. you feel your heart melt into a sickly sweet puddle of happiness and warmth, as you watch satoru drape his arm over yuuji’s shoulder
“yes really” you laugh, “it’s nice to finally meet you yuuji, you’re a friend of megumi’s right?”
yuuji nods frantically, his mop of pink curls bouncing enthusiastically . his mannerisms were nervous and eager. he wanted to fit in. he wanted you to like him. you could tell — he reminded you oddly of your husband ( they were practically the same person in different fonts )
“speaking of megumi, he doesn’t know yuuji’s alive so please don’t let it slip when he calls you” satoru murmurs, taking slow steps towards you.
he knows he’s asking for too much now. you practically raised megumi and it would be nearly impossible for you to keep something like this from him. satoru can see the cogs spinning in your head, the subtle anger in your heart and for the first time in years he’s afraid.
“we’ll talk about this later” you say through gritted teeth. he pleads silently with his eyes and you swallow your protests, you exhale loudly before turning towards yuuji again “c’mon yuuji, i’ve just started on dinner”
yuuji kicks off his shoes and nudges them neatly beneath the shoe rack before padding after you. satoru isn’t far behind
“it smells really good mrs. gojo” yuuji says politely, as he takes a seat by the kitchen island, legs dangling as he drums on the smooth marbled counter.
“thank you yuuji” you beamed, “do you prefer rice or noodles?”
“ahh i’m not really picky” he says, “i like all kinds of food really, but i suppose rice? if it isn’t too much of a hassle, i really don’t want to be a bother-”
“slow down yuuji” you said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “i’m really glad to have you here, it gets kinda lonely when ‘toru’s away on business trips so make yourself at home okay?”
no wonder gojo-sensei was always happy, his wife was an angel. yuuji thought as he nodded fervently
“i can make the rice baby” satoru offers, his hands make their way around your waist, he doesn’t miss the way you stiffen under his touch. you’re mad at him, and he knows you have every right to be
“thank you” you said, putting as much feeling into the words as you could muster, “come with me yuuji, i’ll show you around”
yuuji was positive he was intruding now, standing in the middle of megumi’s room while you stripped navy blue pinstripe sheets off his bed and replaced them with canary dressings.
“are you sure i can sleep here?” he asks, “ i don’t mind taking the couch..”
you seemed horrified at the idea of yuuji sleeping alone on the couch. he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that you actually wanted him here. he was so used to being unwanted
growing up with his grandpa was something he wouldn’t trade for the world, yet he’d always craved the warmth of a mother. a mother’s love was the purest, and there was nothing more blameless than the softness in your (e/c) eyes when you looked at him
“i mind yuuji” you frowned” and i want you to stay in gumi’s room, his clothes should fit you since you’re around the same height”
“thank you again for letting me crash here” yuuji didn’t think he could say it enough. he didn’t deserve such kindness, not when the king of curses lived rent free in his head
“don’t mention it yuuji” you said, “i meant what i said downstairs, i could really use the company”
you ruffled his hair softly before resuming your ministrations of making the bed. you tucked crisp sheets beneath the mattress and fluffed up pillows with ease.
“you’re a really good mom, why don’t you and gojo-sensei have any kids of your own?” yuuji only realises the question is slightly insensitive after the words hang in the air and an unreadable look fleets across your face, “i’m so sorry that was really rude of me-”
“you’re good yuuji” you laugh, you sit down on the freshly laid duvet and pat the space beside you. yuuji hesitates but he sits down eventually
“it just never happened y’know? we adopted tsu and gumi a few years back, plus toru’s always seen his students as his kids, he cares about you guys a lot”
“even me?” it doesn’t seem plausible to him. all he’s seemed to do is cause problems for gojo-sensei ever since he ate that gross finger
“especially you yuuji” you smiled, ruffling his hair, “you remind me of him funny enough, even though i used to hate him back in our school days”
“really?” he gawked, he was practically falling over megumi’s bed with anticipation.
“really” you affirmed , “he was a real piece of work back then, i bet he’s the reason yaga has so many grey hairs”
“how’d you fall in love with him then?” yuuji enquires, brown eyes sparkling with immense curiosity “and how’d you meet?”
“are you guys gossiping about me?” satoru gasps, peeking around the doorway, “how mean of you yuuji, i thought we were friends”
“ahhh we weren’t gossiping per-say, mrs. gojo was about to tell me how you met”
“can i tell him?” satoru’s eyes sparkle, “the way i remember it i walked into the common room and cherry blossoms started falling, classical piano was playing softly in the background and-”
“that didn’t happen” you said, “he’s finally going senile” you tried and failed to push satoru out the doorway but he stood his ground.
he stood almost toe to toe with you, a pleased grin blooming on his face as he towered over you. yuuji’s eye’s flickered between you and your husband, cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he stifled giggles
“it did happen!” satoru insisted, “i’m sure shoko has a recording of it somewhere, now as i was saying.. she took one look at me and fell head over heels in love”
“you’re deluded” you muttered, “i didn’t love you until our second year, get your facts right”
“so you did fall head over heels in love with me” he grinned, “so early too? i knew you couldn’t resist my charms — owww!”
satoru feigns as you finally manage to shove him out the door after hitting his shoulder. by now, yuuji is a spluttering mess on the soft tatami mats lining megumi’s floor
“i’ll tell you what really happened one of these days” you said over your shoulder, “you can shower and settle in, take as long as you need, we’ll wait for you to come downstairs before we start eating”
your smile falls the moment the door clicks shut behind you. satoru feels his heart shattering. he’s so sure he’s going to die because his wife is mad at him. the universe might as well combust into nothing but ashes
“baby-” satoru starts, catching your wrist in his palm. he grips the bone loosely, careful not to hurt you “‘m sorry, you know that, but megumi can’t know”
you trudge down the stairs in silence, opting only to speak when you’re seated beside satoru in the living room. your cat natsu watches you wearily from her cat post, slanted eyes shooting satoru a well meaning glare.
“you can’t ask me to keep this from him” you said, shaking your head, eyes looking everywhere but your husband’s piercing blue gaze. “you’re taking things too far now”
“i know” his voice is a mere whisper, the words barely speak themself into existence, “i’m being selfish again, but you’ve gotta understand (y/n)”
“i can’t” you splutter, you feel tears treading your waterline “put yourself in his shoes, c’mon satoru we’ve seen him at his worst, why would we do something that could hurt him?”
“i’m not doing this to hurt megumi, i’m doing this to protect yuuji”
“just think about it please” you frowned, “if instead of executing suguru they kept him alive and let us think he was dead, you’d never forgive them”
he doesn’t miss the way your voice catches over the three syllables. he doesn’t miss the way your fingers tremble against his forearm. he hates this — arguing with you, he could think of infinite things he’d rather do than this.
“that’s different” his voice is wavering now, “suguru made his choice, yuuji didn’t ask for any of this” he winces as the words fall from his lips. to think he’d stooped to speaking ill of the dead. he doesn’t believe that, not really.
“you still wouldn’t forgive them” you prompted, “and i don’t want ‘gumi to go through any more, tsumiki being in a coma is hard enough as it is”
“i know baby, i know” satoru says softly, he cups your trembling face in his hands and places the sweetest of kisses on the tears that threaten to stream down your cheeks, “trust me on this okay? he’ll be fine i promise”
“okay” you nod, letting your husband, your one and only, wipe away the tears spilling over your lashes.
satoru could really kill the higher ups for putting him in this position. one where he nearly sacrificed his wife’s happiness for something as insignificant as jujutsu sorcery. with his lips still pressed to the corners of yours, he makes a silent vow with himself
it would be you before everything. it was you before everything
“you’re so beautiful” he whispers, his thumb grazing your bottom lip “you. are. everything. to. me” he punctuates each word with a kiss. his lips committing every inch of you to memory
they ghost over your cheek, your quivering lip, your shoulder, your wrist, and finally the silver wedding band encasing your ring finger. and they linger on the cool silver for what seems to be eternity before satoru speaks up again
“dance with me?” he prompts, although he’s not really asking. he’s already whisking you onto your feet and starting up the record player. the vinyl spins on its axis, as constant as his infinite love for you.
“what?” you sniffed slightly, “like we did in our first year?”
“like we did in our first year”
satoru’s hands were on your hip, drawing you closer, he felt your chest brush against his for a second as he leaned into you. you swayed gently side to side, keeping in time with the intricate melodies streaming from the gramophone
his six eyes tell him his student is watching, listening. curious doe eyes peeking from the stairwell. he doesn’t mind. satoru had never been one to hide his affection. you were his. and he was infinitely yours.
“can i tell you a secret?” satoru murmurs, as he twirls you back into his arms. he wishes he could stay like this forever. with you. he’d selfishly sacrifice the universe to keep having moments like this. he would kill for you. he’s positive he would. he’d do it without hesitation.
“i thought we didn’t have any of those” you quipped. satoru feels his heart melting. watching the sadness in your eyes fade into utter bliss was like watching the sun come out after a rainy day. maybe even better.
“it’s a good one i promise” he grins, you raise a brow sceptically but you’re listening “i was the one who fell head over heels in love with you. way back in our first year…and i didn’t even know what love was, i was so confused”
“when did you know?” you asked, “you always say you knew the moment you saw me, but you were an asshole then”
“it was the first time we snuck out together” he admits, “when we went to that night market. you were right, i was jealous of suguru but could you blame me? i wanted you all to myself”
“you’ve always been so greedy” you giggled. satoru doesn’t need the six eyes to see that you love him regardless. it’s evident in the tenderness of your tone and the way your (e/c) sparkle when you look at him
“cut me some slack baby” he groans “i’m trying to be romantic”
“you don’t need to try, i heard through the grapevine i can’t resist your charms” you hummed
satoru cracks a smile at the inside joke, a slow symphony of contentment.he kisses you again and it’s sweet and full of blind adoration. loving you is his religion. the only thing he’s wholly committed to. your hands looped around his neck, carefully avoiding the ever-so-sensitive scar that ran beneath his chin
your hands founds repose in the soft strands of his hair, carefully threading through the ivory curls. satoru could feel himself melting into you, he clung to you as if he was scared to let go and his calloused hands clutched at the warmth that radiated from your skin. he was so impossibly close you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.
yuuji peered at the scene with stars in his eyes. he knew he should look away. that this moment was sacred, strictly for the two of you. but he’d never seen gojo like this before — completely vulnerable, completely himself in the confines of your embrace.
here he wasn’t the strongest, the richest, the one-man clan, the one whose mere existence shifted the balance of the world. here, he wasn't satoru gojo, he wasn't gojo-sensei, he was just 'toru.
© Y2KUROMI 2024. please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.
#𓂃˖ letters from: satoru#❛ 五条悟 ❜#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo fluff#gojo angst#jjk fluff#jjk angst#⭑ : js ‘toru gave me js george vibes#i love gojo too much pls sedate me <3
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Fighting Fate (It’s a losing battle)
Theodore Nott x gn!reader
Inspired by, and dedicated to @musingsofahufflepuff
Summary: soulmate!au in which everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate. Bold of fate to assume it can tell you what to do.
word count: 3.1k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
Ever since your first day at Hogwarts, you’d been told that you were lucky. A one in a million chance. Exceptional. Because as soon as you’d been sorted, and the sorting hat had been lifted up off of your head, your eyes had met his, and the world had burst into color.
It had been wildly disorientating at first- you almost fainted from the visual overload as the banners over each section of students burst into bright color. As you went to take your seat, you got strange looks from several students, but you never felt his eyes leave you.
You’d always thought it was rubbish. Even at the ripe old age of eleven. Your mother had first explained the idea of soulmates to you as a bedtime story. You remember her explaining how everything looked bland and colorless now because you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. But once you did, the world would come to life.
“When will I meet my soulmate?” You’d asked.
“Well, that’s the catch isn’t it? It’s different for everyone. Some meet their soulmate very young. At school even. But some, some will never meet their soulmate. They can be anywhere in the world, fate doesn’t discriminate.”
You’d scrunched your little nose up in distaste.
“That’s stupid. Why do I have to listen to fate?”
Your mother had only laughed, tucking you in and kissing your forehead goodnight. But the sentiment had remained as you grew up. How could someone really just be meant for you? Ridiculous.
Theo had known that you were going to be his soulmate before fate did. He’d watched silently from his seat on the train as you boarded, a nervous grin on your face as you waved goodbye to your family. You were perfect, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. At least until Mattheo swatted his arm.
“What’re you staring at, mate?” He’d asked loudly, gaining the attention of the other boys in the carriage.
“See them, there?” Theo asked, pointing to where you were boarding. “That’s going to be my soulmate.” He’d announced proudly.
“Yeah, okay mate,” the other boys had laughed, quickly moving on to the next topic.
But Theo didn’t take his eyes off of you until you disappeared through the train doors and off into some unknown compartment.
The next time he saw you was at the sorting ceremony. He watched as you confidently made your way up to the front, the smile never leaving your face as McGonagall lowered the hat onto your head. It only took a few moments of deliberation before the hat was being lifted off of your head and Theo’s eyes met yours.
It was like the wind was taken out of him as the room sprung to life, colors swirling around his vision as his eyes raced around the room in awe.
By the end of the night, all of Theo’s friends had been sorted into Slytherin with him. Mattheo, Enzo, Draco, Blaise. Even Crabbe and Goyle.
“I was right on the train. About them being my soulmate,” he’d announced proudly, pointing out different objects and describing the different colors to his friends who wondered in amazement.
You on the other hand, didn’t speak a word of it to anyone until you accidentally let it slip to your mother over break that you could see the pretty colored ornaments strung up on the tree.
She’d been thrilled of course, wanting to know every detail about this soulmate of yours. What did he look like? What house was he? Had the two of you spoken.
You answered each question with less enthusiasm than the one prior, and eventually she got the point and stopped asking.
As soon as the news slipped that Theodore Nott, a child of the sacred twenty-eight, and son of Tiberius Nott no less, could see in color however, it didn’t take long for people to start noticing you. Telling you how lucky you were to have found your soulmate. To be able to see color. As if you wanted a soulmate at eleven years old.
The first few years it was easy to avoid. Being only eleven or twelve, Theo was content admiring you from a far. Third year was when the boy finally got the courage to really try and talk to you for the first time. Sure he’d said hi a few times over the past couple years, but nothing you’d found particularly note worthy. Especially not for someone who was supposedly your soulmate.
“Are you any good at charms?” A voice asks, startling you as you look up from the essay you had been finishing up in the court yard. It was a warm, cloudy day, with only a light breeze, so you’d thought it would be the perfect day to take your studies outside.
You stare up in surprise at the brunette boy in front of you, watching silently as he takes a seat across from you.
In the past, you'd played the avoiding game, quickly scurrying off if you saw the boy or his friends approaching. This year, you hadn't been taking the same precautions, and it seemed Theodore was taking full advantage.
“I’m alright,” you reply hesitantly.
That was a lie. Charms was your best subject, but you were hoping the boy might go away. He didn’t.
"I know that you're top of the class," he responds, staring intently at you with a sly smirk.
That afternoon you begrudgingly helped Theodore with his charms homework, and he happily helped you with your DADA essay. There wasn’t a whole lot of interaction between the two of you, but he wasn’t horrible you supposed. At least he had brain cells to rub together.
After that he kept popping up sporadically throughout your third year.
At quidditch tryouts he'd insisted on partnering with you for several of the drills. You both were offered a place on the team. In the Great Hall he'd seek you out to ask about the homework assignment he'd missed after skiving off of class with Mattheo. The fact that you gave him your notes each time meant nothing. Obviously. And every so often, between the shelves of books in the library, you'd see a flash of soft brown hair, and intense eyes gazing at you before they disappeared as if you were imagining it.
With each increasing encounter, the both of you made idle conversation as you kept the boy at an arms length. It was nothing personal really. In fact the more you thought about it, he seemed perfectly alright. But something in your stubborn thirteen year old self just wanted to stick it to fate. So you continued to ice the boy out.
Theodore however, was nothing if not determined. He knew from the moment he saw you that he was meant to be yours, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers. Thirteen year old Theodore was a stubborn bastard and he knew he was willing to play the long game.
Things grew a bit more complicated in fourth year when you became friends with some of the Slytherin crowd.
It had been an accident really. You’d been reading down by the Black Lake when Daphne Greengrass had stumbled upon you, followed closely by Pansy Parkinson and Lorenzo Berkshire.
“Oh!” she’d said in delight, seeing the book in your hands, “I love that book!”
The two of you ended up talking enthusiastically about the novel for almost an entire hour with Pansy and Enzo butting in every so often to add their thoughts.
“Wait, you’re Theodore’s soulmate aren’t you?” Enzo asks, eventually recognizing you.
You eye the boy cautiously as you nod slowly, suddenly feeling self conscious.
Pansy just wrinkles her nose.
“Sorry you got stuck with such a tosser.” She says.
The four of you are quiet for a moment before your laughter breaks the silence, the other three following shortly after.
After that, you’re integrated into their little group seamlessly. You’d always been a bit of a loner. Sure people would wander up to you often enough to chatter about what it was like to see colors, but that was really all people wanted to know about you. Like it was some trivial party trick.
It was nice having your own friends to study with and wander about Hogsmeade with on the weekends. It was nice to have people who liked being around you simply for being you. Not because some magical force had decided to bind you to a whole other human and grant you the ability to see color.
It didn’t take long for Theo to notice you hanging about more frequently. How could he not? You were so pretty. So smart and witty. So perfect. He was just so happy to have you around more often. Even if it wasn’t to spend time with him specifically.
He reveled in any little morsel of information that he could scrape up from your friends. Your favorite color, your favorite sweets at Honeydukes, your class schedule. Theo was willing to admit the last one was a bit weird, but he was really just hungry to learn anything he could about his elusive soulmate.
Soon enough, it didn’t become unusual for Theodore and Mattheo to join the four of you on your little excursions. Popping up at the Black Lake, or meeting up with you at the Three Broomsticks. He was just always there. As if he was making a point of it. And begrudgingly you began to let him in.
A friend of your friends was okay you thought. Wouldn’t hurt to get to know him a bit. That wasn’t crossing any lines.
For Theo however, this was huge. He was finally getting somewhere. Even if you weren’t ready for any sort of romantic relationship, he was going to be the best damn friend you’d ever had.
By fifth year, there was simply no denying it. Theodore Nott was your best friend. You weren’t really sure how it had happened. The two of you just fit so well together. He had truly wormed his way into your life.
It had started with the study sessions.
"Remember when you helped me with charms in third year?" He'd asked. "I got top marks on that assignment."
As those became more frequent, it had turned into afternoons by the lake with both of you deep in your own novels, but sharing the comfortable silence.
Then it had morphed into weekends at Hogsmeade. Your friends thought they were being subtle when they consistently slipped away, leaving you and Theo to wander about the village. You couldn't find it in yourself to mind though.
You’d tried to keep him at an arms length. You really had. But Enzo couldn’t make you laugh as hard as you did with Theo. And Daphne just wasn’t the intellectual match that Theo was. And Pansy always made sure you let loose sure, but being around Theo was just- freeing.
You still weren’t sold on the whole soulmate thing though. Sure Theo was great. Perfect even. But you just couldn’t shake the icky feeling of blindly trusting fate to decide your life.
Then it happened. No one was expecting it. Especially not Pansy. But you and Pansy and Draco and Theo had all been working late on a potions assignment before dinner, and on your way back up from the dungeons, Pansy ran smack into a certain platinum haired Ravenclaw. You’d later find out that her name was Luna Lovegood. As soon as their eyes met, Pansy stumbled, leaning into you for support. You already knew what was happening as her eyes darted around wildly.
“Oh. I suppose we’re soulmates then aren’t we?” The girl said, a dreamy look overtaking her.
It all seemed too easy for them after that. It was like a flip had switched and the two were just mad for each other. A picture perfect example of what soulmates should be.
You found it to be slightly horrifying how blindly trusting fate could severely change a person and their relationship with an essential stranger.
Theo however, couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. He had what? Almost five whole years on Pansy, and was lucky to get a friendly hug out of his soulmate. Yet Pansy and Luna were inseparable after only a few short weeks.
Not that Theo thought he was entitled to your affection necessarily. But it would be nice if you’d at least acknowledge the bond you two shared he thought.
“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?” Daphne asks one night.
It was one of those rare nights where it was only you, Daphne, Pansy, and Enzo huddled together wrapped in thick, warm blankets inside Daphne and Pansy’s dorm room. Salazar knows where Millicent was off spending her night. A bottle of shared fire whisky sat between you and packs of chocolate frogs littered the floor.
You blink in surprise at your friend’s question. You didn’t talk about soulmate stuff much.
“I do believe in them,” you say with a simple shrug.
“Yeah but you don’t really believe in them, ya know? Why?” She pushes.
You pause again, glancing at Pansy who was looking back at you intently.
“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t like the idea of someone deciding to be with me, just because they’re supposed to.” You say finally.
“I suppose I know what you mean.” Pansy murmurs after a moment.
You look at the girl in surprise and can tell the other two are shocked as well.
“Don’t get me wrong. I adore Luna. Really. I always tell her that I’m so glad that fate put us together. But then sometimes I wonder. If it weren’t for fate, would I have even given her a second glance that day I bumped into her in the corridor?”
There’s a silent lull as your group mulls over Pansy’s words before slowly drifting off to a new topic.
In another dorm, not so far off, Theo lay on his bed staring blankly up at the ceiling.
“Think they’ll come around soon?” Mattheo asks, sensing his roommate’s building tension.
“I dunno. But I’ll wait,” he replies, closing his eyes and letting images of you flood his mind. “They’re worth it.”
That night as you’re leaving to return to your dorm, Enzo catches your arm, pulling you off to the side.
“You can never tell Theo that I told you this, but the first time I met Theo, we were on the train waiting to leave for Hogwarts and he pointed out the window to a someone and said ‘they’re going to be my soulmate’. Then, at the sorting ceremony he got all dizzy all the sudden, and when we got to the common room, he said that he’d been right about who his soulmate would be. You. Just thought you should know.”
And with that, he’s gone.
It’s after that that you really begin to see Theo. You’d never really given him a fighting chance. But now, you kind of wanted to.
It’s the beginning of sixth year when Theo finally notices the shift. Notices you actually seeking him out on purpose, not flinching away when your hands brush, eyes hovering on his lips a bit too long for it to be accidental. And to say that he is ecstatic.
Meanwhile you were silently kicking yourself for taking so long to get over your petty bullshit with fate. Sure you still didn’t love the idea of it all, but after spending enough time with Theo, you could really, truly see the appeal.
After that night in fifth year, you began noticing how Theodore was one of the only students who could keep up with your academic prowess. He could always sense when you were tired, or stressed, or simply in a mood, and always did his best to subtly cheer you up. He was always there. Even after all the years you had put him through the wringer, he remained by your side. And that’s what really convinced you.
It’s also what landed you here, at the top of the astronomy tower, with your head in Theodore’s lap as his fingers raked gently through your hair.
It had become a usual meeting spot for the both of you. Theo had brought you up here a week into the school year starting. It was his safe place. His getaway when everything got to be too much, or when he just needed space to think. When those words had left his mouth you had melted. He trusted you. You had meant so much to him for so long, and you couldn't be bothered to give him the time of day.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, eyes gazing out at the swirling navy sky that seemed to stretch on forever.
“For what, amore?”
“Dunno. Making you feel like you weren’t good enough, or makin you feel like a bad soulmate.”
Theo looks down at you, and you meet his steady gaze.
“I knew I was good enough, amore. We wouldn’t be soulmates if we weren’t perfect for each other.” He replies.
You perk up at this. “You think I’m perfect?” You ask, a dopey smile appearing on your face.
Theo just rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he laughs. He'd grown used to your antics. Just another piece of you that he'd grown fond of.
“I said that we’re perfect together. But you’re perfect too I suppose.”
It hadn’t taken nearly as long as you had expected to reach this point. It seemed that Theo had just been waiting for the word to switch on boyfriend mode. All it took was one spontaneous, heated make out session in his dorm room, and you had the boy wrapped around your finger. (He already had been for years, but you didn’t need to know that.)
“Alright. Wrap it up love birds. You better be fully clothed,” Pansy calls, head peeping up from the top of the staircase leading up to the tower. “You two have been up here for hours, and you can’t have them all to yourself Theodore. They were our friend first.”
“Yeah! Time’s up lover boy!” You hear Enzo call.
Theo groans, head falling back as he rises lazily, offering you a hand up.
“I waited five years for this, can’t you guys let me have my moment?” He calls back.
“No!” The chorus replies.
With a laugh, you grab onto Theo’s hand, tugging him towards the stairs.
“C’mon. If we get Mattheo and Enzo drunk enough, they won’t notice if I spend the night,” you say with a cheeky wink.
“I heard that!” Enzo’s voice rings out.
“You wouldn’t say no to me anyway,” you shout back.
With a smile, Theo follows you down the stairs after your rowdy friends, hand wrapped tightly around yours. It had taken him five long years, and he certainly wasn’t going to let go anytime soon.
I'm a sucker for soulmate aus
#slytherin boys#theodore nott#harry potter universe#slytherin#lorenzo berkshire#matteo riddle#theo nott#draco malfoy#enzo berkshire#theo nott fanfiction#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#daphne greengrass#theo nott x reader#slytherin boys fanfiction#soulmate au#soulmates
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
blame-igotyou
Sparrows falling from the sky
karenfordonte
Caring For Donte
zoomtecnologico
Zoom Tecnológico Chile
salvajeayako
eccentrically me
ruinitpop
Try Not to Ruin It