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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years

Text

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin. He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #winter solider smut #definitely not canon #i refuse to believe steve went back in time for some 1940s kitty kat and left his best friend behind #tony and nat are alive bc they are the only truly valuable characters #sebastian stan #also youre the daughter of agent hill #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #winter soldier #wEiNeR sOlDiEr

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fairyavengerwrites · 3 years

Text

treat you right ⇝ steve rogers

content warning: explicit smut, 18+ MINORS, PLEASE DO NOT ENGAGE. cheating, mild angst and fluff, oral (f recieving), fingering, vaginal fucking, mild size kink, dirty talk (Steve’s apparently freaky) unprotected sex (wrap it up ladies and gentz pls)

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

word count: 1,859

author’s note: i think this came to me in a dream? so obvs it had to be written. was originally gonna be Bucky but I think it’s Steve’s turn. i happened to write this half delirious in the middle of the night, so even though i’ve checked it like seven times please expect spelling errors!! so... yeah, enjoy!

You let yourself into Steve’s apartment at the compound, knowing that he wouldn’t mind you letting yourself in and waiting for him anyway, not once he saw the state you were in.

You were beside yourself, really, brokenhearted and upset. You’d gone to yours and your boyfriend’s shared apartment after a long day, hoping to surprise him by coming home on time for once, only to find him balls deep in your bed. With the girl he told you not to worry about. And her best friend hovering by them, kissing him and running her hands all over him. You didn’t even let him explain, just beelined out of the apartment, right back to the compound.

Since starting this job, you and Steve had almost become inseparable, and he knew more about you than anyone else on Earth. He’d even known about your relationship troubles, and your suspicions of your boyfriend, advising you on what to do about the situation. Steve had also told you to break up with him, and now you were wondering why you hadn’t listened to him and done it sooner. Oops.

You were already settled on Steve’s sofa, partway through a tub of Ben and Jerry’s when Steve arrived at the apartment, immediately sensing your distraughtness.

“What’s the matter, doll?” He dropped his bag where he stood at the door, kicking his shoes off before striding over and dropping on the sofa next to you. You sniffled, feeling the tears finally brim at your eyes.

“He was cheating on me, Steve,” you answered tearfully, clutching the ice cream closer to you. “I got back to him i-in bed fucking that girl and her friend.”

“Doll,” Steve said gently, extending an arm out to you. You instantly moved into him, burying your head in his chest as you started to sob.

“You were right, Steve,” you hiccuped, muffled by Steve’s shirt and the sobs. He started stroking your hair, staying silent to let you express the emotions you were feeling. “I just- I feel so, so stupid! The signs were there, and I-I tried to be angry, but it still hurts.”

“Of course it will, doll.” Steve’s tone of voice was soothing, calming you down a little. “You were with him a long time.”

“A waste of four years,” you muttered, shuffling so that you sat up properly. “I hate feeling like this, Steve.”

“Well, how about this- a pizza and your favourite movie?” Steve prompted, still softly stroking your hair. You nodded, smiling faintly at him.

“Now you know how to treat a girl right, Steve.”

An hour and a half later, you and Steve were one pizza and half a bottle of your favourite wine down, belittling every single aspect of your former boyfriend.

“And you know what I just cannot get my head around?” you said to Steve, placing your glass down on the coffee table.

“What?” Steve prompted, nodding for you to go on.

“I don’t even know how he was pulling all those girls! I mean, I don’t have any other experience to go on, but by god, he was terrible in bed. I always dreaded it each time.”

“He didn’t please you? Satisfy you?” Steve answered, furrowing his brows. You shook your head. You surprised yourself by how comfortable both you and Steve were discussing this.

“He would just rub me a little and then put in and he was done in five minutes,” you explained, sighing.

“Nothing else? No foreplay?” You shook your head again, grimacing at the lousy memories.

“No. It seemed nice for my first time, but it soon became unexciting.”

“I hate to see you not being treated right, doll,” Steve muttered stroking your cheek. All of a sudden, you became all too aware of your proximity to Steve, and you bet that you were close enough for him to hear your heart pound. The mood in the room had changed like the flip of a switch, and you could feel everything in that room. “You want me to show you how it’s done?” It took you a moment to understand, but you could feel yourself flush as you realised what he meant. You nodded eagerly, moving in just a little bit closer to Steve.

“Use your words, doll, and I promise I’ll make you feel good. Make you forget that bum.” Both his hands cupped your jaw as you barely whimpered, already breathless.

“Steve, I-I want you to m-make me feel good,” you stuttered, clutching onto Steve’s shirt. He flashed you a quick grin before caputring your lips in a passionate kiss, pulling you onto his lap with one muscular arm so that you were straddling him. That same arm kept itself wrapped around your hips, pulling you right up to his chest as he dominated the kiss. Unable to stop yourself, you moaned gently into the kiss, feeling yourself beginning to get wet in your panties. He never made you feel like this, not this fast. It was electrifying and you were loving it.

The hand that had been cupping your jaw moved down to your body, palming your breasts through your shirt. You started to softly roll your clothed core against Steve’s own, your instincts taking over, and you moaned when his teeth pulled on your bottom lip. His large hands temporarily moved from their places to pull your shirt off of you, and he paused to look at you, groaning whilst he unclasped your bra.

“Shit, doll,” he muttered. His hands covered your tits, stroking your peaked nipples. “You’re a goddess.” You gasped when his mouth nibbled on your left nipple, stroking and pinching the other one. You gripped Steve’s broad shoulders harder as you started to roll your hips faster. Then, Steve swiftly flipped you so that you were lying on your back, caging you in his arms. He kissed you again, and your curled your arms around his neck. A moment later, he started making his way down your body, placing light kisses as he moved down you. You whimpered and sighed as you felt the ghost touches in apprehension of what he was going to do next, your mind marvelling at the possibilities.

Steve worked quickly at your jeans, peeling them off to reveal your panty-clad mound, your wetness leaving an almost embarrassing sized wet spot. Well, you would’ve been embarrassed if you weren’t so lust stricken. Steve groaned at the sight, and in the same moment ripped them of you. You couldn’t help but moan at the example of strength he showed, your hole clenching around nothing.

“You’re so soaked, doll, all for me,” Steve growled, before he dived into your pussy, lapping and sucking like you were his last meal. You had never felt so good in your life, and the sensation was so overwhelmingly delightful.

“Steve!” You moaned, tangling one hand into his hair. The other was clutching onto the sofa cushion for dear life. You could feel the pleasure building itself up and up and you held onto every bit of it.

“Taste so sweet, doll,” Steve muttered, sliding a thick finger into you. His mouth continued its attack on you as his finger started to slide in and out of you. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you let the pleasure take over you, losing yourself in the feeling. You continued to whine, unable to keep yourself still. Steve’s other hand placed itself over your hips to stop them from moving so much when he added a second finger. Then, all of a sudden, you felt immense pleasure wash over you in waves when he forced a third finger inside of you, feeling impossibly stretched, reaching a crescendo as you came. Steve did not stop his violation of you until you stopped squirming about.

“Steve,” you moaned again as his head poked up. He grinned at you, his mouth covered in your juices.

“That was beautiful, doll,” he said, crawling back up your body. “But I’m not done with you yet.” You whimpered, thinking of all the things he could do with you next whilst he started kissing you feverishly once again. You melting into him, hooking your arms and legs around him. You didn’t notice him strip himself of his trousers and pants, but you did feel his heavy, thick cock on your clit, creating friction on your lips as he grinded gently against you.

“Now you tell me if this hurts, doll, ok?” Steve whispered, placing a tender kiss on your cheek. One arm balanced him above you whilst the other lined him up against your hole. You nodded, biting your lip as you looked at Steve. He promptly thrust into you, sliding until he was at full hilt. You gasped, this time uncomfortably as you realised just how big Steve was.

“Want me to wait, doll?” he asked. You nodded, clutching onto Steve. His free hand moved onto your lips, circling your button gently as you forced yourself to relax. Moments later, you felt the ache ebb, and you urged Steve to start moving.

“Please,” you begged, and Steve grinned at you, starting to slowly thrust in and out of you. Your head fell back as the delectable feeling started to roll over you again, clouding your brain. You couldn’t hold back any of the moans you let out, relishing in the heavenly stretch. “Steve!”

“I know, doll. You wanna cum again, huh?” He moved back down to your chest, nibbling on your nipple between words. “I wanna make you cum forever, doll, watch you orgasm over and over.” You couldn’t even respond, lost in the feeling of his cock filling you, reaching every inch of you.

“Fucked you dumb already, haven’t I?” Steve didn’t stop his tirade as he continued rutting, speeding his hips up. “It’s ok, doll, I’ll keep ya stuffed as long as you want me.” You were near sobbing, screaming as another orgasm neared you. You never realised sex could feel this good, that it was supposed to feel this good. He was right, you never wanted to stop.

“You gonna cum for me again, doll?” Steve asked, and you nodded eagerly, wanting it more than anything in your entire life. “Go on, then, doll. Cum.” His other hand, the one on your clit, moved faster, adding to your pleasure as you let it wash over you once again, this time wailing as you finished for the second time that night.

“Steve!” You cried, chanting his name over and over as he started snapping his hips faster.

“So beautiful, doll. Gotta fill you up now, though, make you mine,” he growled. You were tender as he kept moving, chasing his own orgasm. You laid there, spent but satisfied as he stilled in you, finally cumming himself, filling you as promised and groaning your name. He stayed there, hovering over you and kissing you anew.

“Steve,” you moaned gently. “That was.. that was so good.” You chuckled, throwing your head down.

“Hey, doll?” Steve asked, and you hummed to let him continue. “I should’ve asked this first, but let me take you out tomorrow. On a date.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #captain america #captain america x reader #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu smut #mcu fic #reader insert #chris evans smut

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hornime · 3 years

Note

hello hello!! happy 500 :D i’m a new follower and i’d like to request a pit stop (i’m pretty sure that’s the alphabet thing) with mr kenma pls and thank u <3

part of my 500 event! [CLOSED]

NSFW ALPHABET | KENMA KOZUME X GN!READER

warnings: 18+, timeskip!kenma, gn!reader, mentions of: filming, exhibitionism, choking, bondage, voyeurism, edging, roleplay

a/n: thank you for requesting!!!! this was super fun to write and i hope u enjoy <3

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

kenma’s competitive with himself, and that’s something that definitely carries into the bedroom. he’s analytical, so he’ll ask you questions that you really cannot take seriously after getting your brains fucked out like how many times did you cum? and on a scale from one to ten how good did that feel? although its not the traditional sort of aftercare, you know that he’s only doing it so he can make the experience better for the next time, and so far he hasn’t failed in doing so.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

himself: his fingers. he’s gotta use them for a lot of things: clicking the mouse while he’s gaming, signing business contracts, making you cream around them, sticking them down your throat, you know, day-to-day things. he looks at his hands with pride with the way they’re able to manipulate anything—especially you.

partner: your wrists. he loves the duality; when he’s holding your forearms above your head and thrusting into you mercilessly, he gets a sort of satisfaction in how limp your wrists go, your clenched fists drooping helplessly in his grasp. but he has reverence for their strength; when you’re choking him, fingers digging into his pulse points, he can’t help but focus on the way your wrist pushes down on his collarbone, the post-sex aches there simply reminders of how he fell to putty in your hands.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

would rather cum on you than inside. let’s face it, he was probably a hentai addict at some point and got hooked on the lewd way they showed backshots, facials, and the like. also a sucker for cumming in your mouth when you give him a blowjob and making you stick your tongue out before swallowing. put on a little show of licking your fingers or your lips and he’ll instantly get hard again.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

wants to fuck you while streaming. even after graduating high school, he’s not the tallest nor the strongest, and he’s constantly getting comments like how did he bag someone as hot as ‘em? or they’re probably just in it for the money on videos that he films with you. he’s not an idiot, he knows that even if he was the world’s hottest person there’d still be hate comments because that’s just how the internet works, but he really really wants to shut them all up by pausing his game and folding your body across his desk. there’s no way in hell he’d follow through with that though, because his career—and probably both of your lives—would be ruined, but he’s not opposed to making some faceless porn videos if you’re down for that kind of thing.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

kenma kept to himself for most of his life, so while he didn’t really have hands-on experience, he did get a lot of knowledge from hentai and mangas and such (which really is a double-edged sword because no, not everyone’s nipples are that sensitive, but its fine). so he kinda had a lot of unrealistic expectations and not a lot of sexual encounters to disprove them. but when he blew up on twitch and youtube? phew this guy had people THROWING themselves at him. and so he did indulge a bit, ‘gained some xp’ and ‘leveled up’ as he’d say, before stumbling upon you.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

when you ride him and he’s sitting up so your chests are pressed together. kenma’s the type of person to see kissing as super intimate (yes, even more intimate than literally being inside you) so he loves this position because he can make out with you. he lives for those heated makeout sessions when you’re both moaning into each other’s mouths and nipping at each other’s lips. also likes the position where either you’re sitting with your back to his chest or vice versa and getting each other off.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

i feel like he’d be pretty serious at first, in the early stages of your relationship, but as you got more comfortable, his dorkiness would shine through. like, this guy plays video games for a living, alright? he’s bound to make a few dumb references while you are ‘doing the dirty’, maybe let loose his killer wario impression when things get steamy.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i feel like kenma definitely dyed his pubes blonde as part of a prank at some point so that it matched his hair LMAO. and hygiene-wise, i mean, he still is a musty gamer boy except now he’s getting paid for it. so he probably didn’t take care of it at all before really settling down with a long-term partner (cough, you). now he keeps it trimmed (and he might dye it again for kicks).

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

i feel like it varies from situation to situation. depending on the mood and whatnot, he might really cling to the romance stuff and kiss you on the neck or forehead or murmur i love you, that kind of thing. other times, it might just be all about physical pleasure. it all chalks up to what kind of sex you guys are having, really.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

likes to be watched when masturbating. this pretty much goes hand-in-hand with his fantasy of railing you while streaming, but he’s a fan of either having you sit in front of him and boss him around while he’s jerking off or recording himself. also he might have posted a couple of the videos he films for you to a brand new account on twitter, accidentally blew up, and caused the hashtag #isthiskodzuken to trend for a couple weeks... oops.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

filming/voyeurism: kenma spends all his time in front of cameras, and that part of his life is just part of his sexual preferences now. would almost always be down to film a sex tape. when you guys are separated because of work or whatever, your messages are just lewd pictures and snippets back and forth. its really fucking with your data plan.

roleplay: he has an active imagination—need i say more? he’s constantly coming up with scenarios in his head and he’s definitely bought you a sexy cosplay costume on multiple occasions. i can’t see him into anything too intense like ddlg but i’m sure there’s some more milder stuff sprinkled within his sex life.

edging + bondage combo: when he’s subbing, kenma’s definitely the type who wants to relinquish all control. he just wants you to do whatever you want to him and tease him until he’s crying and begging to cum. will squirm a lot, which will eventually prompt you to tie his hands behind his back, which he realizes he likes a lot more than he thought he would.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

his office (feeds into his boss/employee fantasy) and in the bedroom, but just not on the bed (on his desk, at his gaming chair). the bed is for the more lovey-dovey sex.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

this is oddly specific, but i feel like he’s the kind of guy that’ll get really hard if you massage his hair, lull him into a false sense of security, and then wrap your hand around his neck. the moment you squeeze, his face’ll go red and the blood goes rushing to his dick.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

threesomes or sex with other people watching. although he might be an exhibitionist, he’s pretty hesitant when it comes to actually being that vulnerable for another person. there’s a fine line between the thrill of possibly doing it with other people and then the reality of actually doing it with other people and its a line that he most likely will not cross. after all, even though he’s more extroverted than he used to be, sex is still something you still had to coax him out of his shell for.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

giving (50%): he likes the ego boost that comes with making you cum with just his mouth and, since he keeps note of the kinds of things that really get you over the edge, he’s constantly getting better at it. likes fingering even more, though, so he’ll almost always have his fingers in your hole while he does it.

receiving (50%): loves getting blowjobs while he’s gaming and his headset mic is on (exhibitionist, cough cough). his favorite time to get oral is when you’ve got him tied to a chair and are taking your own sweet time, daring him to cum at the frustratingly slow pace you’re going.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

regardless of the scene, he goes relatively slow. likes savoring the moment and likes seeing your reactions to each of his individual movements even more so he wouldn’t like rushing things.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

honestly, not a fan of them. he gets really flustered after sex, like red-face-and-heavy-breathing-and-messy-hair kind of flustered, so he sucks at composing himself. the last thing he wants is for his stakeholders to realize he got the soul sucked out of him from the burning blush on his cheeks, therefore he like sex when he can take his time with it.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

will be down to experiment if you’re clear about it. open communication is a big one for taking steps in sex because he’s not the best at reading people. so as long as you explain what exactly you want to do, sure, he’ll try it.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

not more than a couple rounds, but they will be excruciatingly long. he’ll make you cum multiple times before he takes care of himself just because he loves seeing your expression when you finish. but once he cums, there’s not much going to happen after that. baby burns out fast.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he loves ‘em and uses them at any given opportunity. he’s still a bit lazy, but does it really matter when he can just buy something to make you both feel good with minimal effort? after all, he has the money. kenma always has the latest ‘gadgets’; in fact, there’s an entire box of toys in his closet. his favorite would have to be the app-controlled vibrator—he loves using it on you as much as he loves you using it on him.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

as much as he likes making you cum, he likes seeing your face and hearing your noises more. so yes, he’s a teaser. he just loves how receptive you get when you’re begging him to touch you more, to fuck you faster, that he can’t help but drag things out longer than necessary. it’s really your fault that he does it, at least, that’s what he tells you.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

loud, loud, LOUD. kenma whimpers and his moans usually get higher-pitched the closer he gets to his orgasm. when he’s busy focusing with you, though, all that’s pouring out of his mouth is absolute filth, talking about how sexy you look and how good you’re taking him. might degrade you here and there when he sees how easy it is for you to finish with him just using his fingers—he can’t help it.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he has the money and the inability to take life too seriously, so yeah, he’s ordered a silicone mold of your genitalia, whether its your pussy or your cock. its embarrassingly useful when he goes on business trips and its the one thing he never forgets to pack (he forgot his passport once but you bet he had his custom sex toy tucked safely in his luggage like the crazy bastard he is). got you a dildo in the shape of his dick for your birthday so he wouldn’t feel as weird about it.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

six and a half inches, slight curve to the left, and for lack of a better word, pretty. it sits prettily in your palm, has a pretty pink shade on the tip, and overall always leaves you satisfied. for what he can’t do with his cock, he has plenty of toys to compensate anyway.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he was pretty conservative about it at first, but once you gave him a taste of his desires and some of your own, he was hooked. what started as taking out his frustrations after a particular bad game became compounded with rewards after a particularly good game, and now he thinks of sex as a good luck charm before he even turns on his pc. so yeah, you got a pretty needy guy on your hands.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s out almost immediately. he puts a lot of effort into fucking you well, and i mean, he doesn’t have the best stamina despite years of volleyball. basically the pleasure goes straight into his brain, electrifies his nerves for a solid couple hours, and then the moment he cums it all just shuts down. if you make him drink some monster you’ll probably be able to fix the circuit board and get him started up again.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu! smut #hq smut #kenma smut #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma #inky.500 #inky.responds #kinky.inky

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quickspinner · 3 years

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Oops - Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

Summary: A little too much alcohol, a drunken hookup, it happens all the time, right? Marinette didn't mean to drink so much, and she didn't mean to wake up in a stranger's bed, but she did, and now this morning isn't going at all the way she expected. When Luka asks to see her again, she can't think of a good reason to say no...and the one night she never meant to have turns out to be the beginning of something she never could have anticipated.

Alya thinks its hysterical--only Marinette could take home a one night stand and end up with a date. But when the one night stand turns into a series of hookups, Alya's starting to get concerned. Clearly it's up to her to rein Marinette in before the girl gets seriously hurt.

Rating: M - this is a little spicier than my usual fare but not really explicit? There’s a lot of off screen sex and reference to sexy things and adult activities, some drinking (obviously), cursing/foul language.

Credit to my tumblr followers for this one, because one day I went "hey, you guys want to see some bits from the folder of fics I'm never going to finish?" and one of the bits I posted was the beginning of this story, and people liked it more than I was expecting, and then it was "well, you know, I did think about doing blahblah" and "I'd sure love to see that!" and the next thing you know I've added five thousand words with no sign of stopping. In Marinette’s words: Oops. So, with much love to my followers and readers across platforms, here's the fic I never intended to finish, and I hope you enjoy it!

I'm splitting it into two chapters but they'll both be uploaded within a few minutes, so if you finish the first part and the second one isn't posted yet, just wait a little and try back. Also, much love to @livrever for talking me down off the ledge and beta reading this one.

Marinette woke up with a mouth that felt like cotton and a pounding headache. She groaned, and pressed her face into the pillow. It...smelled funny. Not bad, just...not like home.

Oh. Because she hadn’t gone home last night. At least, not to her home.

“Are you shitting me right now?”

Marinette jumped, and sat up, clutching the sheets to her still-naked body. Her head reeled and she whimpered as she pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. The door to the bedroom was cracked and she could see a sliver of light beyond it that blinked in and out. It seemed her...friend, was pacing in the other room, and from the sound of it, he wasn’t very happy.

“—crosses a line, Jean. What? No, that’s not the point, Jean, you got me hammered without my consent! How can you not see the problem here? No, you know what, my head is killing me and I’m sick of yelling at you, obviously this can’t be fixed. As of right now, we are no longer friends. Don’t call me, don’t talk to me, if you see me coming just walk the other way. I’m done with you.”

There was a thump and a sigh and an emphatic “Fuck.”

Marinette just sat there, holding the sheet over her chest, and blinked, trying to figure out what she should do and think through the fog in her brain. She didn’t exactly have a whole lot of experience in these situations. Was she supposed to just…

Before she could form any ideas, he came in with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. He had a pair of tattered but well-fitting jeans on with patterned boxers peeking out from the waistband, but no shirt, and there was a lot of muscle and bare skin on display and oh God he had sex hair, and it was her hands that had done it. Marinette swallowed and twisted her fingers tighter in the sheets, suddenly feeling a bit lightheaded.

“Hi,” he said gently. “I’m Luka, in case you don’t remember. Sorry if I woke you. How are you feeling? I mean, hung over, obviously, but on a scale of just let me die to I might conceivably want to live to tomorrow …” He gave her a smile that perhaps wasn’t entirely confident, and Marinette couldn’t help a small smile back.

“I think I’m not quite up to dancing to the metal band playing in my head, but pretty far from oh God where’s the bathroom, so I’ll take it, all things considered.” She took the glass of water he offered and he opened the aspirin bottle and shook a couple out into her palm. That was sweet, she thought. At least he wasn’t just tossing her clothes at her and kicking her out. How could she have let herself end up in a position like this?

Luka sat on the edge of the bed and watched her take the pills. “Man, you’re really gorgeous. I thought at least some of it would be the booze, but—“ He looked away, clearing his throat. “Lucky me.”

Marinette’s face burned. “Thanks,” she said softly, not sure what else to say. At least he was nice, she thought. At least she hadn’t slept with a jerk. And he’d certainly been...considerate. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t enjoyed herself, just...

“How much do you remember about last night?” he asked. His voice was rough, but he kept it soft. “I’m sorry for asking but I was way more drunk last night than I ever let myself get and I don’t think I blacked out but some things are...spotty.”

“Most of it, I think,” Marinette flashed him an embarrassed smile. “The good parts for sure. The details and...transitions, I guess, are a little hazy. I don’t remember how we got here from the club, for example.”

“But you remember being here, with me.” His eyes fell to her neck and shoulders and he winced. “Man I really marked you up, I’m sorry. I hope that’s not going to get you in trouble.” His eyes widened slightly. “Please tell me you aren’t married.”

“No,” she yelped. “No, I’m not married. Totally single.” She put her face in her hand. “Absolutely, devastatingly, recently single.”

Luka let out a sigh of relief and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Bad breakup?”

She sighed. “Very. Bad breakup, bad best friend applying bad breakup logic that lands me my very first one night stand. Yay me.”

“Um, I’m honored?” Luka grinned sheepishly. “Although, I mean...it doesn’t have to be. Just the one night, I mean. Not that—” He cleared his throat and looked away. “Even as drunk as I was, I know I had a lot of fun last night.” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “And even before I got too drunk to function I wanted to get your number.” He rolled his eyes. “Apparently one of my so-called friends decided I needed a little extra liquid courage.”

“I wish I had an excuse,” Marinette muttered, shoulders curling inward. “I just...didn’t want to be sad anymore.” She frowned as what he’d said and the conversation she’d overheard connected in her brain. “Are you...okay?”

“I’m pissed off,” Luka huffed, and then smiled again. “But I’m fine. I didn’t do— much I wouldn’t have done anyway. Just, not necessarily in that order, or that soon. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m...not sure,” Marinette sighed, adjusting her grip on the sheet she held to her chest. “I don’t know how I feel. I definitely did some things I wouldn’t have done sober. You, specifically,” she joked weakly. “Not that you aren’t—not that I didn’t—“

“I get it,” he chuckled.

“But...I’m on birth control, and…” she turned and craned her neck to look at the spilled box and empty wrappers on the nightstand. “We used protection, and…” she looked at Luka, worrying her lip.

“I’m clean,” he supplied.

“Me too,” she whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “And you’re hot and you seem nice and it’s not like it didn’t feel good, and I definitely wasn’t sad for a while, so…” She shrugged. “I’m a little embarrassed but...I think I’m okay too.”

“Well, no need to be embarrassed with me,” Luka grinned. “I’m definitely not judging.”

They sat smiling at each other for a moment, and then Luka seemed to remember something, because he winced. “Umm...about your dress,” he coughed. “I am so, so sorry but it seems drunk me was kinda impatient and your dress is in pieces on my living room floor.”

Marinette just blinked at him for a moment...and then she started to laugh. Luka grinned, and then started to chuckle along with her. She laughed harder and grabbed her head. “Ow, ow, oh my God.” Without thinking she leaned forward to drop her head on Luka’s shoulder.

He stiffened up for a second, but then relaxed, and one of his hands slipped into her hair. His fingers began to rub in small circles.

“Mmm, that’s good,” she sighed, and felt Luka’s chuckle.

“Well that sounds familiar,” he said, his voice going a little deeper. Marinette shivered. She felt him swallow, and his face dipped slightly towards her. “I like your perfume,” he said, and had to clear his throat again. Marinette’s face warmed.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. His fingers continued to rub her aching head, and the pain actually seemed to be receding a bit, though whether from the massage or the painkillers he’d given her, she wasn’t sure.

She should sit up. He was a stranger, after all, and just because they’d—she wasn’t exactly experienced at this kind of thing but this wasn’t really fitting in with what she imagined a morning after to be like. She probably looked weird, leaning on him like...like they were a couple or something, and—

Luka’s hands shifted and began to comb gently, slowly through her hair, and Marinette let out a small moan. She felt his breath hitch and bit her lip, embarrassed. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“What for?” he asked, but there was a rough edge to his voice that—she was being silly though, he’d performed last night, and then they’d done all that drinking, and...and those other things, and it was no wonder if his voice was—

That voice was doing things to her, though, and reminding her of—things, and this time it was her breath that caught as the fingers that had been moving through her hair kept going down this time, sliding along her spine, raising goosebumps and reminding her that she was still very much naked.

“Do you, um,” Luka began, in the exact same deep tones that had made her leave the club with him last night. “Do you have anywhere you need to be right now?”

His fingers stilled, resting at the small of her back, and Marinette couldn’t see his face since hers was still buried in his shoulder. It was hard to think when he was so warm, and her nose was brushing his collarbone, and she’d hardly have to move to press her lips against his smooth skin.

She barely knew him. But...well...that hadn’t stopped her last night, so...

Marinette took a deep breath, and lifted her head, sitting back slightly to look at him. His breathing was steady as he looked back at her, almost too steady, but his eyes were dark.

“No,” she managed, barely above a whisper.

Luka’s hands moved up her back to trail up and down her arms. “Then, do you want to stay for a while longer?” They were swaying towards each other. “Maybe…” They were kissing before he could finish the thought. Marinette put her arms around his neck automatically, but as his arms went around her, pulling her closer, she dropped her hands back down again to rub over his broad, firm shoulders.

“Again?” he managed to get out between the fevered kisses, and Marinette made an affirmative noise, but he didn’t move until she broke away long enough to gasp, “Yes.”

He was pulling away the sheet between them even as he wrapped one arm around her and dragged her more fully onto the bed, settling her below him with surprising gentleness. Okay, that was hot, Marinette decided, burying her fingers in his already-messy hair as he began retracing the path he’d marked along her neck last night. Last night had been a really, really stupid decision, but this? As he pulled back to look at her, eyes clear and sharp instead of the hazy, unfocused gaze he’d had the night before, and brushed her hair tenderly back from her face before kissing her again, softly, and then deeply, Marinette began to feel that this morning was by far the best decision she’d made in a long time.

***

He should get up, Luka thought hazily, listening to his shower running. He should at least put his boxers back on or something. Change the sheets. Make some coffee. Something.

Instead he lay there, limp and relaxed, listening to the shower, and trying to hold on to this feeling of languid contentment.

God, he felt so good. Marinette was an amazing partner, sweet and so responsive, practically melting under his touch, firm and toned but soft in all the right places, and her little gasps and hums drove him crazy. She was bolder than he expected, an amazing kisser even drunk off her ass last night, and her mouth was so pretty and soft, and this morning...his body hummed with echoes of pleasure as he thought about it.

He rolled over, hugging his pillow, and grinned. He could still smell her perfume. That scent was engraved in his mind; it was one of the things that was clearest to him from the jumbled mix of memories of the night before. Luka remembered dancing with Marinette, dropping his head to hear something she was saying, and inhaling that scent, vivid despite the riot of smells that permeated the dance floor. He remembered being surrounded by it in the blur that was the cab ride home. He remembered gasping it in on the living room floor...did they fall? He thought he remembered one of them tripping over the doorstep. Even just now, with all his senses full of her, he had found traces of it on her skin, at her jaw and right behind her ear.

Luka shivered, buried his face in the pillow, and breathed deep.

He’d played a killer set last night, he’d gone home with a beautiful woman who was great in bed, had somehow managed not to humiliate himself despite his spiked drinks, and he had nowhere to be today. This morning would be perfect if he wasn’t dead certain that Marinette was going to leave and he would never see her again.

He really wanted to see her again.

Which was why he hadn’t wanted things to happen this way, damn it. He sighed, this time burying his face in the pillow to muffle his groan. He was supposed to flirt with her, get her number, ask her out, think with his brain and not his—hormones.

He was still going to kill his so-called friend. There was no justifying what Jean had done. If Victor had been working it never would have happened, but he’d called out for the night and apparently whoever had replaced him had been more than happy to make sure Luka’s drinks were stronger than advertised.

Bastards, both of them.

Even if it hadn’t turned out too badly.

Rock Giant blared out from his nightstand, and Luka flopped on his back and grabbed for his phone, forcing his eyes open as he answered it. “Hello?” he grumbled.

Silence. Luka frowned, and opened his mouth, but the person on the other end finally said, “I’m looking for Marinette.”

What? Luka frowned, and then pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. It was pink.

Right. Because he’d found Marinette’s dead phone on the floor this morning when he got up, and he’d picked it up and set it in his charger, while he took his own to the living room to call and yell at Jean. Then he’d hurled his phone into the couch and left it there.

Shit.

“Ah,” he said, reaching up with his other hand to run his fingers through his hair. “She’s, um, in the shower. I can tell her to call you when she gets out.”

“Tell her to call Alya. If I don’t hear from her in fifteen minutes, I’m calling the police,” the girl on the other end of the line said coldly, and then hung up.

“Oops,” Luka muttered, setting Marinette’s phone back on the nightstand with a sigh. He hoped she wouldn’t be too mad at him. He probably should have come up with a more ambiguous excuse, something she could use for a cover if she didn’t want to admit to this Alya person that she’d gone home with a guy, but he wasn’t exactly thinking on his feet this morning.

He should get up. He sat up with a groan and swung his legs over to sit on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his hands over his face.

He registered that the shower was no longer running at about the same time that the door opened. Luka looked up and his jaw dropped as Marinette shuffled shyly into the room.

Shit, he’d seen her naked less than an hour ago, why was he still blushing? She was wearing two of his shirts, a t-shirt with one of his button-ups over it, open at the front and with the sleeves rolled up, cinched at her waist with her scarf from the night before. He couldn’t look away from that scarf for a moment, a pink, gauzy thing the sight of which brought Luka another vivid memory of pressing his face against her neck to inhale her perfume as he untied it. His eyes flicked up to the lovely pattern of bruises along her neck.

“Thanks for letting me raid your closet,” Marinette said, tugging slightly at the hem of his shirt. She had what looked like a pair of his black bike shorts on underneath. They were too big for her but damn did her legs look good anyway.

“No problem,” he coughed, and cleared his throat, reaching for the glass of water that was still sitting on his nightstand. Ugh, when did he become such a horn dog, drooling like this over a woman who had already more than satisfied him. Why did Jean have to decide to be a jerk last night, of all nights. Luka didn’t want things to end like this.

“Well, I should...If you maybe have a bag I can put my dress in? Then I can just go and get out of your hair.” Marinette couldn’t seem to be still, feet shuffling, hands fluttering, not looking at him.

I have to fix this, was the only thing he could think as he stared at her. I’ll regret it forever if she just walks out.

“Actually,” Luka said quickly, trying desperately not to sound too desperate, “I was going to ask if I could buy you breakfast.”

That stilled her. She froze, staring at him, and he forced himself to go on. “No pressure,” he shrugged, “But the café on the corner has a great all-day brunch menu. And I’d like to make it up to you, about the dress.” He grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. Marinette’s eyes followed the motion and he thought he saw pink tint her cheeks. Well, at least it wasn’t just him. “Breakfast probably doesn’t begin to cover it, but it’s a start. If you don’t mind waiting for me to shower.”

Marinette was shuffling again. “O-okay,” she said. “I’ll, um...I’ll wait for you in the other room?”

Luka chuckled. “Sure.” He waited a moment, but when she just stood there, he tossed aside the sheet covering his lap and stood. “I’ll be quick,” he told her with a grin that he was extremely sure she didn’t see. She squeaked as he passed her and he had to smother his laughter, even as he closed the bathroom door behind him. She was too cute, and her ogling made him feel less like a creep for his own.

Then he cursed and opened the door again, leaning just his upper half out. “Oh, I need to tell you, you need to call, um, Alya? I’m really sorry, but we have the same ringtone and I answered without thinking. Can you call her back before she sends the cops after me? I can’t deal with Officer Roger this early in the morning.”

Marinette paused, and then let out a strangled laugh, dropping her head into her hand. “Yeah,” she sighed, but she was smiling when she looked up at him. “Sure, I can do that.”

Luka smiled back. “I'll only be a few minutes.”

He did want to be quick, but he also wanted to be clean and attractive, so he throttled back his impatience as best he could to make sure that he both smelled and looked good. The bedroom was still empty when he came in, but the door wasn’t shut all the way and he could hear Marinette on the phone. He felt a little guilty for eavesdropping, but it wasn’t as if he could help it.

“—about that but it’s not like I ditched you on purpose. Well obviously I was wasted, Alya, so I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. No, I’m really fine. I’m kind of embarrassed and I feel really stupid, but...it turned out okay. Hmm? No, he’s really sweet and considerate. He’s, um, buying me breakfast, so…what? No, Alya, I’m not stupid, I know that. He’s just being nice and—okay that is none of your business! ” There was a giggle that followed that, and then her voice dropped too quiet for him to hear, and another giggle, one that made him smile from the sheer joy evident in it. “I guess I got lucky in more ways than one.” She sighed. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me. I really am fine. Not even sick, much. I mean I had a headache for a while, but...” She giggled again. “Luka took care of it. Mm-hmm, so good, Alya, oh my God.” Luka grinned to himself as he dug in his closet to find the stack of leftover merch he had crammed into the back corner. “Nuh uh, also none of your business. Anyway, I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way back, okay?”

Stop being a smug bastard , Luka told himself, but it wasn’t working very well. Given the state she had reduced him to, it was gratifying to know she’d enjoyed herself too. Well, he had known that, he’d made sure of it, but it still felt good to hear it from her. Maybe his odds were better than he thought. He found what he was looking for and tried to turn his smirk into something less incriminating before he opened his door and emerged into the living room. From the way Marinette’s face turned red, he failed. “I really gotta go,” she mumbled into the phone, eyes on him. “Bye, Alya.”

“I hope this will do,” Luka said, offering her the cheap mesh tote with his band logo on it. “You can keep it, we use them to bag up merch when people by t-shirts and stuff for the band...I hope it’s…”

“It’s fine,” Marinette smiled, taking the bag. The pieces of her dress were already neatly folded on the couch, and she turned away from him to put them in the bag.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Luka told her, frowning a little. “I’m...not usually like that.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette sighed. “It was kind of flimsy, with just those straps to hold the pieces together. I’m not usually like this…” she gestured with one of the folded pieces, “either. I’m not, you know, sexy like that. I made it because I thought...well, I thought he would like it, and maybe I could wear it for a special occasion at home, but I never meant to wear it out , and then when everything happened, I thought I’d never wear it at all, but then Alya insisted that I had to wear it at least once and…” She shrugged, and slipped the handles of the tote over her arm, smiling up at him. “I’m just as happy to have an excuse not to wear it again.”

“Well, you looked amazing in it,” Luka told her, the corner of his mouth twitching. “But I have to disagree with you about not usually being sexy. My clothes have never looked so hot.”

She tried to hide how much she enjoyed the compliment, but couldn’t quite manage it, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She’d had a breakup, he remembered, and probably wasn’t feeling too good about herself when she walked into that bar last night, dressed to the nines, and started knocking back drinks.

Then her blue eyes flicked up to give him a look through her lashes. “I find that hard to believe,” she murmured, and then blushed.

Oh he was gone. Luka found himself reaching for her, but stopped his hand before it touched her cheek. “Can I kiss you, Marinette?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Now, you’re asking?”

“Yes, I’m asking,” Luka replied, amused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Marinette’s eyes darted to his mouth, and then back towards the bedroom. “I don’t, um...think I can…”

Luka chuckled. “Thanks for your opinion of my stamina, but frankly, me either. I’d be more than willing if I could, but, right here right now? I just really want to kiss you.”

“Why?” Marinette blurted, and then covered her mouth. Luka blinked, but before he could come up with any kind of answer, Marinette straightened and squared her shoulders. “Look,” she said briskly. “I’m sorry, I just...I’ve never done this before, and I don’t know what...I don’t know what the rules are? The...etiquette, or whatever...I mean I kind of thought once we were done with…” Her eyes shifted towards his bedroom again. “I thought it was just, over? And I would go home? So I’m...I guess I’m confused. About why you’re still...um...breakfast and kissing and all that, it just…why would you still want that, after you—I mean we—aren’t we, you know…” She floundered.

“Okay, hold on,” Luka raised his hands placatingly. “Relax, Marinette. That was kind of a lot to take in.” Luka chuckled, and looked away for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. “I’m not gonna say I’ve never done this before, but...listen, I don’t have a playbook. This isn’t...a business transaction, or whatever. I just do what feels good. Dancing with you felt good. Kissing you felt good. Everything we did after felt good. This morning felt really good.” Marinette blushed, a smile tugging at her lips. “I just feel good with you. I don’t see any reason to put a time limit on that, just because we’re, um. Worn out.” They both giggled self-consciously, and Luka reached for Marinette’s hand, cradling it in his. “If you want to go, or you need to be somewhere, or if you’re just tired of kissing me—”

“I don’t,” Marinette said quickly, taking a half step forward. “I’m...not.” Luka smiled.

“Then just do what feels g—”

She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, dropping the bag on the floor. Luka’s hands found her hips automatically, steadying them both from her hasty move, and the kiss softened as they both relaxed into it.

“You’re right,” Marinette breathed, sending a shiver up his spine. “It does feel good.”

Luka kissed her again softly, savoring the soft plumpness of her lower lip between his, and rested his forehead against hers. “I could kiss you all day,” he rumbled, and cleared his throat. “But fainting from hunger probably wouldn’t feel so good, so. We should probably go.”

“Okay,” Marinette said, and then bit the lip he’d just been enjoying. “But maybe we could...keep doing what feels good? For a while? Until I have to go?”

“Hell yeah,” Luka grinned, and grinned wider when she rose up and kissed him again. He picked up her bag and offered it to her, and walked her to the front door and opened it for her, his other hand still entwined with hers.

They made it to the landing when Marinette hesitated at the top of the stairs. Looking over her head, Luka saw one of his nosier neighbors staring up at them, judgment in every line of her body. Marinette was frozen under the stare, red slowly creeping up her face. He could sense the sudden panic in her, and put a hand on her hip.

Luka leaned down by her ear. “You were the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen last night,” he murmured, smiling when Marinette shivered and turned her head slightly to listen to him, jolted out of whatever spiral she’d been in. “You completely blew my mind this morning. You’re a goddess. Own it and walk out of here like one.”

Marinette felt as if Luka’s words sank into her skin, warming her in such a way that she almost forgot what they were talking about. She was busy reliving the way he had arched against her, the praises he had whispered into her skin, the way he had clung to her, moaning as he came apart. She did that to him.

Luka watched as Marinette bit her lip, fighting the smile that was suddenly trying to break out. He brushed his lips against her temple and she looked up at him, still blushing but with a sparkle in her eye that did things to his heart. She reached back and caught his hand, tangling her fingers with his, and marched down the stairs, offering a cheerful smile to the old lady at the bottom. “Good morning,” she said, and Luka grinned shamelessly as they walked out of the door.

When they made it out of the building Luka suddenly pulled back on her hand, and Marinette gasped as he whirled her up against the wall and leaned down. Marinette rose up on her toes to meet him, cupping his face in her hands and they kissed fiercely. Luka braced his hands on the wall and leaned into her.

“Perfect,” he breathed, though even he wasn’t sure whether he meant her performance just now, or her in general.

Marinette’s hands slid from his face to his shoulders as she blushed and looked down, but then she looked back up at him, beaming, and Luka couldn’t help smiling back at her as he cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly one more time. “Breakfast,” he sighed, and pushed off the wall. He held out his hand, and Marinette put hers in it, and they were both grinning as they meandered down the sidewalk.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and Marinette sighed blissfully.

“I feel...really good,” she answered. “Thank you.” She paused, and scrunched her nose. “Is that weird to say?”

“No,” Luka laughed, and brought their hands to his lips to press a kiss against her fingers. “Thank you too. I had a really good time. I’m glad you did too. I’m glad that...well, with the way things started. It could have all gone really badly, or not at all, and...I’m really glad I could show you a good time.”

Marinette blushed. “It was good. Really, um. Really good.” She sighed. “I promise I know more words than this.”

Luka chuckled. “It’s okay. Here, it’s this one.” He opened the café door, but he didn’t let go of Marinette’s hand, following right behind her into the café. They were directed to a booth, and he tugged at her, urging her to sit next to him instead of across.

Marinette only hesitated a moment. Do what feels good . Luka’s arm felt good against her shoulders as he laid it along the back of the booth, and he leaned down and kissed her without any trace of self-consciousness. Marinette’s fingers curled in his shirt. Kissing him felt really good. She should be embarrassed; she should be pushing him away. Hadn’t she heard over and over how important image is, and here she is making out with her one night stand, wearing his clothes, in a public diner booth.

Do what feels good .

It definitely felt good.

“God that feels good,” Luka sighed as they parted, and Marinette giggled. He kissed the top of her head, and then picked up the menu as a slightly wary waitress approached. Marinette glanced up at him in surprise at the rather domestic gesture, but then quickly away again. Stupid. They’d already had that conversation. It was just an impulse, not something to read into. Marinette looked up at the waitress instead, feeling her cheeks heat.

The waitress didn’t look phased at all. If anything, she looked bored. “Coffee?” she offered in a disinterested tone.

“Um, no, thank you,” Marinette managed to smile. “I’d like some lemon tea with honey, please.”

The waitress nodded, and glanced at Luka. “Usual, Lu?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Luka said, flashing a quick grin before looking at the menu again.

“Come here often?” Marinette teased, and Luka chuckled, then coughed lightly.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s close and I’m lazy, so…” He shrugged.

The waitress returned and set down a little pot of hot water, a cup with a tea bag in it, and a container of honey.

Marinette pulled away from Luka slightly to prepare the tea, but his arm remained behind her on the back of the booth.

“Here,” Marinette said, sliding the tea over to him when it was ready. “This’ll help your throat.”.

Luka blinked, and then smiled. “Thank you,” he said, and Marinette found herself blushing under his suddenly soft gaze.

“No, thank you,” she said, and he laughed as she reached over and stole his coffee cup. She sipped it carefully. It wasn��t quite as sweet as she liked it, but it was good enough. She glanced up at Luka over the rim, and he was still giving her that soft look.

“I should figure out a ride,” Marinette murmured, looking away, and she picked up her phone.

“I can get you a cab if you want,” Luka offered, but Marinette shook her head.

“My roommate’s boyfriend works nights around here, and he should be getting off soon. I’ll see if he can pick me up first.” She smiled at Luka. “If not, we can revisit the offer. Thank you.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, and she kept him close for another, and her next text to Nino wasn’t entirely coherent.

They had to disentangle from each other when their food came, but Marinette remained very aware of Luka’s arm brushing her own, and the soft smiles he gave anytime she glanced at him. She glanced away, tucking back a lock of hair to cover up the fact that she was grinning like a fool. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? she wondered. Was this just like, afterglow or something? Would it fade away once she left?

Luka touched her shoulder and Marinette jumped. He blinked. “Sorry. I was just asking if you got your ride worked out, but I guess you were a bit zoned out.”

“Sorry,” Marinette said quickly, and stuffed her phone back in her purse. “Yeah, Nino’s going to pick me up here in a little bit.” Luka nodded.

He put his arm back around her when they were finished eating, and he ordered another lemon tea instead of the coffee she expected. “You were right,” he smiled. “It did help.”

Marinette mixed it up for him again when it came, and then settled in and leaned against Luka’s side as he sipped it. He smelled nice, and he was warm, and she loved how easy he made everything feel.

Luka watched Marinette’s eyelids begin to droop. He nuzzled her hair and kissed her temple, but she just smiled, her eyes still closed. She was adorable, and Luka sighed before jostling her slightly.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he warned, and Marinette blinked her eyes back open. “I don’t particularly mind, but we can’t stay in this booth all day.”

“Can’t we?” Marinette sighed. “I’m so comfortable. You’ve been...really great Luka. I’m kind of sorry it has to end.”

Luka took a breath, and took the plunge. “Well, about that. I was hoping maybe we could see each other again.”

Marinette blinked uncomprehendingly, and then blushed as she sat up and looked at him. “Y-you mean, like a...a b-b—”

“I mean like a date,” Luka corrected, mouth twitching. She was really too cute. “The kind with talking and dinner and movies or whatever. I’d really like to spend more time with you, Marinette. Talking, and not just...well. I’d be lying if I said I wanted to stop doing everything else, but...I want to get to know you.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “R-really?”

Luka tilted his head slightly. “Why are you surprised?”

“I just don’t—I mean I didn’t think I’d be…” Marinette ducked her head, drawing circles in the ring of condensation forming around the base of her water glass. “You don’t even know me.”

“True.” Luka raised his eyebrows, and shifted his gaze away so he wasn’t looking quite so fully at her. “That’s why I’m asking you out. I don’t know you, but I want to. If you want to call it quits now and go home and never see me again, I’ll accept that, but...it’s definitely not the way I want this to go.”

“I…” Marinette looked down, twining a finger nervously in her hair. “I don’t know, Luka. You’re really sweet and—I really did have a great time with you. It’s just…I don’t want you to get hurt because I’m on the rebound, I…I don’t know if I’m ready for another, um...relationship, right now. I mean...”

Not what he wanted to hear, but...“Okay. That’s fair,” Luka nodded, the fingers of his free hand beginning to tap the table lightly.. “What if we just keep things casual for now? We can go out sometimes, and have some fun together...do what feels good…” he squeezed her hip, and watched her try to keep back the smile that wanted to break out, “get to know each other, and if you want to see other people or whatever, I’m cool with that for now. I’d just really like the chance to spend more time with you. If it doesn’t go anywhere then…” He shrugged, “at least I tried. You’ve put me on notice now, so it’s my choice to take the risk. I think you’re worth it.” His heart was beating so fast, and the tap of his fingers picked up tempo as he watched Marinette consider.

“Why?” Marinette whispered at last, with a sigh that hurt his heart. Her last relationship must really have done a number on her.

Luka cupped her cheek in his hand, coaxing her to look up at him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just...have a feeling about you. I’ve learned to trust my instincts about people. I can’t explain it logically, I just...know. You’re someone I want to know. I felt it from the moment I saw you, before I’d even had a single drink.”

Marinette pursed her lips, looking up at him. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to live up to that,” she said after a long moment.

Luka let his thumb stroke lightly against her lower lip. “You don’t have to live up to anything. Just be you, and let what happens happen.” He bent and kissed her, slipping a hand behind her neck to get a better angle as he plundered her mouth in a way that was definitely not appropriate for a public place. Luka was pretty far beyond caring at the moment though. That this gorgeous, sweet, vibrant woman, could question that someone might be drawn to her, attracted to her for more than a passing moment...it just wasn’t right.

Marinette relaxed into him with a quiet moan. Her hand slipped under his jacket and pressed into his chest, feeling him up shamelessly, and his own fingers tightened on her hip.

“So,” he breathed, when he finally let her slip reluctantly away. “What do you say?”

Marinette looked up at him, and bit her reddened lip, and then quietly asked, “Are you free this weekend?”

Luka grinned. “Actually, not so much, I’m usually playing gigs on weekends...how about Thursday? That way I don’t have to hurry away.”

Marinette hummed, and pulled out her phone. He watched the fingertip she pressed against her lips as she considered her schedule, and admired her bright eyes when she smiled up at him. “Okay, Thursday works.”

“It’s a date,” Luka smiled so softly that Marinette’s heart fluttered. How did he do that, kiss her like that and then do something so—so sweet .

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, she thought as he got out his own phone to swap numbers with her. What if she fell for him?

But...he sounded like he wanted her to fall for him. Maybe? But what if he fell for her, and she was just using him for sex? Because he’d made her feel so, so good...important and beautiful and wanted and…

It might not even be like that again, she told herself. Maybe I just imagined it because I was lonely and depressed and feeling unwanted...maybe I would be thinking about anyone who gave me some attention that way. Maybe we’ll just...fizzle out and it won’t even be an issue..

Luka curled his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up. “You okay?” he asked softly.

“I…” her voice was shaking, and she took a breath and forced a smile. “Yeah. Just. I’m tired.”

He didn’t believe her. “You’re okay,” he told her, kissing her cheek gently, and then the corner of her mouth. “Whatever’s going on, it’s going to be okay.”

Marinette’s phone beeped, and she picked it up with relief. “He’s almost here.”

She slid out of the booth, and Luka followed. He left some bills on the table and took her hand as they walked out.

“That’s my ride,” Marinette gestured as Nino pulled up at the curb. She turned to face Luka, stepping close. He set his hands on her hips and squeezed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek, but she paused, and then turned and caught his mouth instead. Luka moved easily to meet her in one of those slow, deep kisses that made it seem like he had no other place in the world to be. She stroked his cheeks with her fingertips and kissed him again, and then again as she slid her fingers back up into his hair. “Goodbye, Luka,” she whispered, and he shook his head.

“See you later,” he corrected softly.

As he let go of her she felt something slide along her hip and looked down to see the pink scarf that had been tied around her waist slipping away. She looked up at Luka’s grinning face as he winked at her and draped the gauzy scarf around his neck. He raised the fabric to his face and inhaled. “See you Thursday,” he told her, eyes twinkling, and turned to walk away.

Marinette’s knees felt shaky as she stepped down the curb and opened the car door.

Nino was hunched down in the front seat, both hands pulling his cap over his face. “Geeze, Nette,” he muttered as she fell into the seat and tucked her feet inside. “I really didn’t need to see that.”

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly, but as she flipped down the visor to check herself in the vanity mirror, she saw pink cheeks and sparkling eyes and a broad smile, and knew that she wasn’t convincing. She pressed her fingers to her lips and, for Nino’s sake, fought down the urge to squeal.

Her glow dimmed a bit as she followed Nino up the stairs to the apartment she shared with Alya. She loved her friend, but...she wasn’t looking forward to this conversation. She tugged the collar of Luka’s shirt a little higher on her neck, and tried to remember what Luka had told her. She had nothing to be ashamed of.

“Well well well,” Alya drawled as Marinette slipped into the apartment after Nino. “Your very first walk of shame.” She smirked. “Marinette, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What I had in me was a lot of vodka,” Marinette huffed, and came over to the table, accepting the glass of ice water Alya pushed across to her.

Alya waited until Marinette had the drink at her lips to add, “And a hot guy, apparently.”

Marinette choked, just as Alya had intended. “Alya!”

“Don’t tell me he wasn’t, girl,” Alya snickered. “You, my friend, look very well fucked.”

Marinette blushed hard. She was, at that, but Alya didn’t have to put it so...crassly.

Nino groaned. “You know what, just...knock and let me know when you’re done. I don’t want to think about it.” He went down the hall into Alya’s bedroom and shut the door.

“So you said goodbye to Mr. Right For Tonight?” Alya asked, tapping her fingers against her own glass. “You have all your stuff, right?” She frowned. “Are those his clothes? What happened to your dress?”

“I have it with me,” Marinette defended, picking up the bag she’d dropped. “He just...thought I’d be more comfortable in something else.” Not for a million euros would she have told Alya the whole truth about the dress. “And yes, I said goodbye. For now, anyway,” Marinette muttered, and caught Alya’s gaze when she looked up. Something in that look made her squirm. “Actually we have a date later this week,” she admitted.

“A date?” Alya raised her eyebrows. “Marinette, maybe I need to clue you in on a few things about this whole one night stand business. As in, one single night. After which you…” She made a fluttering motion with her hand. “You’re not supposed to get a date.”

Marinette shrugged, and reached over to pluck a croissant from Alya’s plate, just to have something to do with her hands. “Oops.”

Alya’s frown deepened.

“What? It’s no big deal,” Marinette defended, though she wasn’t even sure why she felt the need. “We just...thought we’d like to see each other again.”

Alya looked troubled for a moment, and then grinned. “It was that good, huh?”

“Well—” Marinette squirmed in her seat again. “It was fine, okay? He just...seemed nice.”

“Uh huh.”

“It was your idea anyway!” Marinette pointed out defensively.

“My idea was for you to go out and get buzzed and enjoy being drooled over,” Alya grinned. “You decided to get hammered and then get laid all on your own. I hope you’re satisfied .”

Marinette couldn’t cover the silly smile that wanted to come up at that, but when Alya snickered, Marinette shook herself back to reality and sighed. “It was probably my imagination making things better than they were. I was feeling pretty down last night and I did have a lot to drink. And it has, you know. Been a while.”

“Maybe started seeing through beer goggles?” Alya teased. “Not that I blame you, I thought he was pretty cute when you were dancing, but I’d had a few myself by then too. Not your usual type, but it’s good to branch out.”

Marinette blushed. She didn’t want to tell Alya that while her memories of the evening were hazy, she remembered Luka in the morning very clearly, not only the lines of his body but the broadness of his back beneath her arms as she clung to him, the ripple of the muscles tensing and releasing against her as he moved, the dark intensity of his eyes and the way they fluttered closed when she did something he liked.

She picked up her water glass and took a long gulp. No, she hadn’t needed the liquor to be attracted to him. Not at all.

Still. She wasn’t exactly thinking clearly, even now. “Watch,” Marinette sighed, setting the glass down. “The date’ll be a bust and that’ll be the end of it. We probably won’t have anything to say to each other and we’ll exchange awkward texts for a few days and then we’ll never speak again.”

“Hmm,” Alya raised her eyebrows. “We’ll see. It’s fine if you want to have fun, Marinette, you sure as hell could use some. Just be careful, always use protection, and don’t let him take any nudes.”

Marinette blushed deeply, and bit into her croissant. “Thanks so much for your concern,” she muttered around the mouthful.

***

Marinette knew she was in trouble as soon as she locked eyes with Luka and her stomach started doing somersaults. The slow smile he gave her was so distracting that she barely heard his greeting, or the compliment that followed. She didn’t remember putting her hand in his, it was just there, his fingers rubbing lightly over her knuckles. They hadn’t even made it to the restaurant when Luka tugged her into a shadowed corner and kissed her in that slow, purposeful way he had. His voice surprised her a little, smoother than it had been, without the roughness of hard usage, but, she found, just as seductive. Any resistance Marinette might have had crumbled the second he turned them out of the light and breathed may I ? against her lips.

When they did finally make it to their table, Luka was just as easygoing as he’d been on their first...night, and he meant it when he said he wanted to get to know her. He asked her questions, and seemed interested in what she said, even when she babbled, watching her with a quietly amused smile. He was interesting, too, telling her about his travels for the past year with his band. They had a surprising number of tastes in common. His eyes were fixed on her whenever she spoke, and he was touching her whenever he got the chance, taking her hand or playing with her fingers, brushing her hair back or letting his hand rest on her shoulder. Despite the kisses they shared whenever one of them couldn’t help themselves, his touch didn’t feel like seduction, just tenderness. Marinette felt like the center of his world, and after so long living on the sidelines of someone else’s life, she reveled in it.

They were laughing as he walked her home.

“You did not,” Marinette gasped, one hand over her mouth and the other curled around Luka’s arm.

“We totally did. What can I say, it was a full moon and my best friend is crazy.” Luka shrugged, and grinned while Marinette laughed.

“Wait, so are you a werewolf?” Marinette asked teasingly, as they approached the awning of her building.

“No,” Luka chuckled. “Unless you’re into that. If so, I can see what arrangements I can make for the next full moon.”

“You’d get bitten by a werewolf for me?” Marinette giggled. “How sweet.”

“I’d rather be bitten by you,” Luka teased back, and his hand found her hip, and her arms came up around his neck, and then they were kissing. Heat welled up in her, making her push up against him. Luka made a sound low in his throat and his hands slid to her lower back, pressing her closer. Oh, she wanted him, and by the feel of him he wanted her too, and…

Well. There really wasn’t any point in denying their mutual desire, was there. Marinette pulled away to press her lips along his jaw, and he made that sound again as he tilted his head for her.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” Marinette asked, toying with his collar. “My roommate’s out of town tonight, so we won’t be, um...bothering anybody.”

“I’d love to,” Luka told her, voice deepening. “I’d hate for you to be lonely, all by yourself.”

“Oh, I can entertain myself,” Marinette said daringly, looking up at him through her lashes. “I have an excellent imagination. There’s definitely advantages to having the real you here, though.”

“Play your cards right and I’m sure we can manage the best of both worlds.” Luka bent and kissed the join of her neck and shoulder, sucking hard enough to make her shudder. “You can start with telling me how you imagine we get upstairs. Are we making out in the elevator or am I chasing you up the stairs?”

“Elevator,” Marinette sighed, head tilting as he retraced his favorite route up her neck. “I don’t want to wear your legs out just yet.” She paused to consider. “Maybe you could chase me that far, though.”

Luka pressed another long, slow kiss to her mouth. “Then you’d better run,” he told her, grinning playfully. “I won’t be responsible for what happens when I catch you.” They both giggled, and then Marinette broke away, running for the building doors. Luka darted after her, staying just at her heels, sweeping her up in his arms just in time to carry her through the elevator doors. Marinette spared a brief moment to wonder what she was doing, being so bold, and in sight of the entire lobby, too, but Luka grinned at her, and she forgot to care. Marinette leaned over him to press the button for her floor, and then forgot everything but his mouth under hers.

Later, when they said a lingering goodbye at her door, and he asked her if she’d like to go out again, she didn’t even hesitate before agreeing. She’d figure out a way to explain it to Alya later.

Fiction Master Post

#quickspins #oops #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #i'll never not know you #pro lukamari #nsfwish fic #alya salt #depending on your sensitivity #one night stand to lovers

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whumpwillow · 3 years

Text

unrequited love | hero x villain

yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee it’s here!!! the first day of Whumpay2021 and also my very first writing event that I’m participating in! I’m gonna try and fill all the daily prompts because they’re all amazing 🤍 starting with some hero x villain angst

Day 1: “I thought you were dead.” / “I wish you were dead.”

warnings: unrequited love, broken nose, drugs mention, not much else since this is more angst than whump oop

Their fights always went much the same. A punch here, a dodge there, a power blast and a daring escape. Well, at least on Villain’s part anyway, that last bit. Hero never knew when to run from anything, even when Villain had left a perfectly good opening before they got down to the dirty work. But no, Hero was too honorable to leave, forcing Villain to fight them for real, as much as they didn’t want to.

Hero constantly got in the way of their plans. Always disrupting a heist or storming into a perfectly good hideout that Villain thought had been concealed well. It was downright annoying…at first. Then it became expected, and eventually, begrudgingly accepted.

It didn’t bother Villain, they began to realize one day. It struck them in the middle of a fight as surely as Hero’s right-hook did, catching them too off-guard to dodge.

They liked it. This game of cat and mouse. Cops and robbers. One chasing the other, never quite catching up, but always there, always persistent.

Perhaps that’s what drew Villain to Hero. Their unwillingness to give up. They were so good, so bound by a duty they personally enforced, holding themselves to an unbreakable standard. Villain was half-hearted at best with everything they did, always had been. High school dropout, lackluster effort in finding a proper career. None of it ever really held their interest until they started scheming…and fighting against Hero.

Villain didn’t know when they began feeling it, but they realized they could feel the blood pumping hot through their body and their heart racing with anticipation. They were so, so alive. Not merely drifting through the world as a breathing body, but living. Adrenaline coursed through their veins, the thrill of the fight and the chase and the escape driving brightness behind their eyes that had been so dull until now.

“You’re so full of yourself sometimes,” Hero said, a hand on their hip. Never far from the little throwing knives they kept there.

Villain tossed a smirk their way. “Shouldn’t I be?”

The answer was no, Hero replied, but it didn’t matter in light of their banter. Villain loved the quips they offered with a wit as quick and sharp as their daggers.

“You should be finding a legal way to make money other than this,” Hero remarked.

Villain rolled their eyes and smiled. “Where’s the fun in that?”

They leapt away into the night before Hero could catch them.

Till next time, my love.

The first time that thought had passed through their mind, Villain had stopped short on their journey over the rooftops, crashing into the side of a building and breaking their own goddamn nose. They’d laid on the cobblestones of the alley below, legs folded beneath them, laughing hysterically as blood flowed down over their lips, chin, and neck. They leaned their head back against the cold brick walls, looking up at the darkening sky with its clouds and burgeoning stars.

They loved Hero.

What a mistake that was.

Villain was a fool, but not so much as to be blind to the fact that Hero hated them. It was all too evident in their eyes, that burning glare, in their face, the tick of a jaw, the flare of their nostrils. It was laced through every way they carried themselves; this was just a job to them.

Villain had, at first, thought of it as a game. Then it was a hobby, of sorts, akin to skydiving or bungee-jumping. Something that gave them a rush, the knowledge that they still had a heart that could beat inside their aching chest.

Then it was a drug, something Villain couldn’t live without.

They rubbed a hand over their face. Carded it through their hair. Was it even Hero they loved, or the adrenaline?

No. Hero.

Their quick wit, their sharp words and sharper daggers. The way they moved, darting around corners and jumping through the air as if it was all a grand show. They were so achingly beautiful.

And they would never, ever love someone like Villain.

“I wish you were dead.”

Hero spat at them from the ground, coughed, and brought themselves up to their elbows. Villain had knocked them down this time, this fight, and Hero glared with the fire of a thousand suns. They hated being defeated as it put a strain on the high standards they held for themselves, but Villain would never kick them while they were down.

Villain smiled, leaning back against the wall. “Ha. Wishes are useless, Hero. Believe me.”

A dashing smile. A casual shrug. That was all they could manage of their insouciant façade, and apparently all Hero needed. They darted from the window, vaulting over rooftops until they knew they were a safe distance away that Hero couldn’t follow.

And then they broke.

Falling to their knees, they clutched at their chest where they felt their heart shatter, as it always did after a fight like this. It was a pain that let them know they were alive.

“I wish I could love you,” they whispered to the sky.

Useless.

—

gosh im so happy to be posting my writing, I hope y’all like what I’m posting throughout May 🤍

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underyuuta · 3 years

Note

gojo looking up from under his sunglasses sends me in a different dimension!!! >.<

gojou satoru x fem!reader | w.c 851

a/n: oops, just wanna clarify that readers room is basically like the dorm room type thing that the students stay in but reader is v much an adult,, this was gonna be longer but i am in a bit of uh a smut rut kjsdfhk so this is where we’re at,, i’ve also had this ask in my inbox for so long,,, sorry babes

18+ adults

warnings: none really, a bit of dubcon

An entire week spent surviving grueling mission after grueling mission. Sleepless nights, emotional duress and physical pain being exactly what you signed up for, yet the need for a break was urgent.

So sue you if you wanted to finally spend some time alone, ignoring the feigned look of hurt Gojou sends you when you brush off his invitation for drinks with an even more uninterested looking Nanami.

You wanted peace and quiet and most of all an orgasm.

The stress that had built up over the days was no easy feat to undo, you had to start simple. A scorching shower seared off whatever leftover sweat and grime had built up, helping a few of those aching, taut muscles to finally relax, eventually turning the water to a teeth-chattering cold to leave you feeling a little refreshed by the time you step out.

There was no greater satisfaction than slipping on the oversized threadbare t-shirt you chalked down as pajamas, foregoing any bottoms as you flop onto your bed with a quiet oomph.

For a moment you consider just curling up under your blankets and knocking out for, hopefully, the next day or two. But the tight coil in your chest and unsatisfied frustration tugging at your entire body is practically begging you for release.

With heavy limbs you crawl up the bed, letting your head flop against the pillows as you draw your knees up and apart, taking a moment to massage over sore breasts and smooth out the cotton rumpling around your midriff. You let out a sigh as you bring your fingers to your lips, letting spit collect at the tip of your tongue before flattening it against the second knuckle of your ring finger.

You let your mind wander a bit as you drag your finger down against the muscle, slipping the digit into your mouth, swirling and swirling your tongue as you think of something a little more satisfying to have in its place.

Marking your satisfaction with a hum, you retract your finger with a soft pop, waiting no time and spreading your legs just a little further, teasing at your clit with another mindful sigh.

You let your thoughts fill with romanticized versions of past encounters, fluffing the memories up to be far more satisfactory than they had been, letting arousal seep through your body, a soft moan escaping you as you continue to tease, basking in the tingling running up your spine with each press of your finger.

“Hey!” The door to your room slams open before you can even let your eyes flutter shut, legs slamming closed with your hand trapped against your cunt as you look over in horror at Gojou slipping in, the force of the door being slammed shut open fixing it back into place.

“W-Wha- you! Out!” You stumble over your words, moving to grab at your blankets in a poor attempt of saving some of your dignity. He tilts his head at you, that stupid grin that’s always a fraction too wide still adorning his expression.

He drops the plastic bag hanging loosely in his fingers by the door. As he takes a step forward you shoot up, scooting back on your bed as if you could possibly escape him in the state you’re in. There’s another tilt of his head, just enough to look at you over his sunglasses, a shiver running down your spine at how he looks so utterly fascinated.

A part of you hopes he didn’t see, that he didn’t notice. But Gojou Satoru sees all.

“Now, now, no need to stop on my account,” He’s at the foot of your bed within seconds, tugging at your blankets in a more playful than predatory sense, “what do we have here?”

“Stop you animal!” There’s a pause in his motions, that nonchalant grin shifting with a sharp inhale as he yanks at the blanket with far more force than before, leaving you helplessly exposed before him.

“Ah de-stressing after this hard week? Mind if I watch?” In the back of your mind there’s only a split second of horror, two seconds of embarrassment and three of confusion. All washed away by the insatiable look in Gojou’s eyes and the burning curiosity that grips at the forefront of your mind, making your fingers itch for something.

“I…” What’s the worst that could happen? There was no knowing when your next mission would be your last. So without another thought of hesitation you nod your head, teeth digging into your bottom lip as he climbs onto your bed, settling himself just below your legs on his stomach, resting his chin on folded hands as his sunglasses sink to just barely sit at the tip of his nose.

There’s a beat of silence before you let your legs fall apart again, focusing your gaze on the way Gojou doesn’t even blink, a sharp inhale through his nose and a slight smirk spreading across his lips the only reaction you get.

“Let the show begin.” He grins up at you, an undeniable challenge lacing his words.

#THANKS POMMIE #idk why i was tryna force myself to write more when this is just fine as a cheeky lil drab #anyway gojou satoru is a piece of shit #i need to make a banner for my megumi drab oops #miki writes #under.gojou #post now think later thats what i always say <3 #tw dubcon

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heauxzenji · 4 years

Text

I Win

Pairing: Nishinoya Yuu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Self-indulgent smut aka the best kind of smut

Warnings: Smut/NSFW, oral sex, squirting, sinning, dom!noya if you squint

Summary: After a long day of intense competition, you lose your game against Nishinoya.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble oops but felt good to write a longer piece for once! I’m honestly shook that its over 1k on word count but I’m proud of me.

TY @ceo-of-daichi for proofing! I love you angel baby.

I’ve also decided to start a taglist- let me know if you’re interested in joining it!!! Tagging @super-noya @sugawara-sweetheart @scorpiosanssexy @nonexistent-social-life and @crushzone simply bc I luv them. ❤️❤️❤️

You had been neck and neck all day. There was just something about the cat and mouse games you and Nishinoya would play. Clandestine lingering touches, glances that lasted maybe a bit too long in the eyes of your friends, exaggerated breathy laughter that almost sounded like moans escaping your lips- it was all in a day’s fun for the both of you. It was a game to see who could win and come out on top. The one who came out on top.... got to top, of you know what I mean.

But alas, today wasn’t your day. You were getting impatient, growing hungrier and hungrier for actual contact, leaving you wriggling around on his lap for any form of friction between him and your comfy pants. There was just something about the way his tongue worked around the ice pop he was eating that made you melt almost as if it were you in the summer sun. You wanted it to be you- and so there you were, left staring, aching for his touch.

“C-can we go upstairs?” It spilled from your lips before you got the chance to catch it. Nishinoya knew what that meant, and so did you. You had lost the game. He suggestively raised an eyebrow through the bleached blond pieces of hair that framed his forehead.

“Why would we go now?” he questioned, amping up his teasing by swiping his tongue across his frozen treat, and turning up the tv volume with the remote.

“The show’s just started getting good.”

He sunk into the couch a bit more, causing you to shift to a position in which your head rested right next to his lap on the couch, just barely touching him. He was trying to give you a chance to back out, but you couldn’t anymore. The growing heat in between your legs and the tingling sensation in your abdomen were overtaking your other senses. You lifted your head ever so slightly to prop it up onto his thigh, chin poking into his flesh. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him again.

“Baby,” you whined. “Please? Please can we go upstairs?”

“There’s no need,” he said, lifting your head by your chin to meet his. He placed a cold and sweet kiss to your lips, barely swiping his now pale blue tinged tongue against yours before gazing at you with intense, lust hooded eyes.

“The couch will do just fine.”

In an instant you were pinned underneath him. Your breath hitched at the back of your throat from the sudden movement and contact of Nishinoya’s lips at your neck, suckling at it hungrily while pulling small bits of flesh through his teeth. You start to pull him closer, fiddling with the bottom hem of his shirt all the while wanting him to take it off.

“Aht, aht,” he swatted your hand away as he removed his mouth from its perch of your collarbones. “You lost, remember...”

You poked your lip out in protest. His hands made their way up your shirt, stopping to knead at your breasts while attaching his mouth to yours once again, the familiarly sweet taste of garigari-kun enveloping both of your tongues. You were melting under his touch, spreading your legs a little wider so that you could feel the friction of his thigh against your clothed sex. You bucked your hips up only a little, just to be stopped by Nishinoya tugging at your sweatpants. Getting the hint, you help him pull them to your ankles. He can see the wet spot against your panties and how it’s slowly growing wetter. He smirks, taking advantage of his effect on you.

“You’ve wanted this all day, haven’t you?” He trace one finger against the dampness. You could only whine in response. Moving the covering to the side, he revealed your slick folds. He blew cool air to your heat, causing your hips to buck and writhe at the sensation.

“No teasing Nishi... please,” you whined.

“Losers can’t be choosers,” he hummed, lining his eyes with your now dripping hole. He attached his hot mouth to your core, sucking up all the wetness you made for him. The moan that escaped your lips sent your hands flying for his hair as he started to flatten and flick his tongue against your clit methodically.

You started to grind your hips against his mouth and face, trying so hard to get all of the friction you could as he ate you. He was always so invested in making you feel good, and he wouldn’t stop until he felt your thighs tremble from the space you had them clamped around his head. A string of curses left your lips as he plunged his tongue inside of you, swirling it up and then around your clit again.

“Mmm, you’re so delicious,” he mumbled against your other set of lips. He slid in one of his fingers, followed by a second, and slowly began building up a rhythm. His eyes met yours as he slowly curled the digits inside of you.

“F-F-Faster,” you choked out. “Please faster.”

He flashed you a sinister grin, immediately picking up the pace and bringing his thumb up to press against your clit.

“Like this?” He teased.

You could only moan in response as he quickened his pace even more. Your walls started to spasm as you chased your orgasm. It was coming in hot and intense, and the way he was curling his fingers against the velvety warmth of your sweet spot caused you to make that familiar sloshing sound- you knew it was going to be messy.

“Come on, pretty girl,” Nishinoya cooed in your ear. “I know you can give me a good one...”

“N-Nishi I think I’m gonna-“

“I know,” he said, pressing down on your abdomen even harder with his free hand.

“Come on angel. Cum on my tongue.”

The knot that was growing in your stomach snapped as those words rolled off his tongue.

He clamped his mouth around your sopping cunt, making sure to give it a particularly hard suck.

And with that you felt the warmth trickle out of you with a squelch, and the heat of your body ran with it- draining you entirely. You completely collapsed into the couch beneath you panting in a fucked out bliss that left you seeing stars.

Nishinoya pulled himself back onto the couch, maneuvering himself to a position where he was the big spoon to your now limp body. You were still panting as he placed a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“I win,” he smiled.

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hen-of-letters · 3 years

Text

@spnprideweek day one: flags

This little ficlet for #spnprideweek is brought to you by my big, non-binary bisexual love for this beautiful fandom, and my desire to fix that moment in 'Baby' when Cas indulges Dean by saying "werepire", but Dean doesn't hear him and Cas doesn't know. It ended up getting a bit long, so there's more under the cut or over on AO3. Thanks!

Dean's at Pride, and feeling a rising level of discomfort.

It's not the fact that he's wearing eyeliner in public for the first time in his forty-two years. Hell, he'd been wanting to do that ever since he was a kid, dreaming of being a rock star. The covers of music magazines in gas station racks had been windows on a world free from the brutally narrow definition of what his Dad meant when he told him to "be a man". Gradually, though, he'd learned what is gloriously apparent today under the hot June sun: that there are as many ways of being a man as there are men.

It's not because the sleeveless white t-shirt he's wearing is somewhat snug. (The heat had made him shed his pink, purple and blue plaid shirt - the one he'd worn today because Claire always called it his 'bi flannel' - and tie it around his waist.) He and Cas are both wearing a little of their contentment on their waistlines these days, and he believes Cas when he says that he adores his body because he means it when he says the same to Cas.

It's not the big, heart-shaped sticker slapped on his chest, which is striped in the colours of the bisexual pride flag in a way that's much less subtle than the flannel. Dean's always known that he wasn't only into chicks, but putting a name to it is new. Dean's had jobs and Dean's had roles, but having an identity had always seemed like a luxury well beyond Dean's means. Now he's not constantly running for his life, though, he has the breathing room to figure himself out. And he's good with this part of himself. More than good.

It's not the two flags that are padding the pockets of his jeans. One, he'd bought for Cas: it's striped in pale pink, pale blue and white. Earlier, he'd gone with Cas when he'd met up with some friends he'd met online (having managed to get past all the cats this time). The ex-angel had found that discussing their experiences of being trans had helped him feel happy in the body that had become his own. Dean could only feel immense gratitude for the way Cas' face had lit up afterwards when he'd talked about how he was creating himself, becoming himself, and embracing the human condition of change.

Dean hopes that the gift of the trans pride flag will show Cas that Dean understands and loves him, and the same is true for the other flag, which he'd picked up for Jack. It's yellow, white, purple and black. Dean had had to do a little research when Jack had used the term non-binary - it's amazing how the world can move on while you're living in an underground bunker. He'd kept on researching, too, after he'd learned the basics. Maybe he was still figuring himself out. Maybe there was more to discover about himself, and wasn't that fantastic?

Jack is wandering around somewhere with Claire and Kaia. Jody and Donna are here, too, with Alex and Patience. Adam and Michael have probably partied their way through fifty international pride parades by now, but they should be meeting up with everyone else later. Sam and Eileen are not far away. Eileen was the one who's slapped the bi pride sticker on Dean's chest - with unnecessary force, if you asked Dean. She'd grinned at him, showed off the identical sticker on her own chest, and said, with a suitably cheesy wink, "we need to stick together". He remembered the moment he'd nervously asked her the sign for 'bisexual', and when she'd shown him - the letter signs for 'b' and 'i' - she'd added, "me too," and Dean had scooped her up into a crushing hug.His love for his family is endless, and them all being here is definitely not why he's uncomfortable.

And it's not the body glitter freckling his cheeks and his shoulders with gold, although his feelings might change by the time he tries to remove it tonight. He'd been gilded with it when he'd been dancing up a storm with a group of drag queens. They'd admired his eyeliner - a deep brown shot through with gold along his upper lashes - but winked and said it was "a little subtle for Pride". As soon as Dean had seen the tube of glitter, he'd yelled "hell yes!" and even managed to hold still long enough to be coated in the stuff before moving his body to the beat again. Although he's sure his feet will be aching later, so far his favourite cowboy boots are not the source of his discomfort.

It's not the bright pink feather boa, either, which he'd acquired from the same source as the glitter, when he'd been sent off with a kiss to the cheek and the words "be bold, honey!" He'd expected the boa to tickle or irritate, but for some bizarre reason the sensation of feathers around his shoulders and the back of his neck feels incredibly comforting and reassuring. He feels warm and safe and oh. Oh.

As that particular realisation sweeps over him, Dean tightens his hold on Cas. He's standing behind him with his right hand on Cas' hip, and his left arm is up over his shoulder and wrapped around his chest. His hand is splayed out, at once putting his silver wedding band on display and somehow attempting to conceal Cas from the eyes of his many admirers (and, well, good luck with that. Cas is incredibly beefy these days).

Which brings us to the source of Dean's discomfort; to the thing that's deepening the furrow in his brow and the dimples beside his pursed lips: namely, the sheer number of guys hitting on Cas.

It's not like Dean can blame them. Cas' muscular frame is wrapped in black jeans and a tight black t-shirt bearing the Led Zeppelin 1975 tour logo. The short sleeves show off the floral tattoos trailing down his left arm. Cas is wearing a rainbow-coloured enamel belt buckle and, because he's determined to be the death of Dean, black cowboy boots. Before they'd left, Dean hadn't been able to resist grabbing a black kohl pencil and smudging a little along Cas' upper and lower lashes. And, okay, maybe Cas' wide-eyed bewilderment every time he's flirted with is vaguely amusing. But when Dean is right here? Not cool.

Right on cue, here's another one. From over his husband's shoulder, Dean levels his very best glare at the guy. It's a look that can stop a demon dead in its tracks. A vampire would tremble. A werewolf would wet itself. But one young gay guy with a few drinks in him? Totally unaffected. Like the others, he's all smiles and understanding when Cas politely, if awkwardly, waves him away. (Literally. With a final dorky little wave goodbye.)

Dean realises that he's moved his right arm around Cas' waist, so now Dean is wrapped around Cas like some kind of koala/octopus hybrid. An octoala? A koctopus? Definitely koctopus. Heh.

Dean snorts at the thought, which is somewhat unfortunate, given that his face is right next to Cas' ear. Cas flinches and turns his head around to fix him in a squinty glare.

"Koctopus?" Dean says, apologetically.

Cas narrows his eyes further and tilts his head to the side.

"Um, the way I was wrapped around you. I was like a cross between a koala and an octopus."

Dean nudges Cas. "So what does that make me? C'mon, you know you wanna say it."

Cas just tilts his head a bit further to the side, either in confusion or outright despair. Dean has untangled himself from Cas and stepped back, and looks down at the ground, suddenly self-conscious.

Dean feels Cas' hand on his shoulder, and then it smooths over his back, finding the back of his neck underneath the boa. Whatever his shape, Cas' touch has the exact same effect on Dean. He looks up into the impossibly blue eyes of his husband.

"You're a very glittery," Cas begins, softly, "and very beautiful," one corner of his mouth lifts, and then he purses his lips together, trying to hold back the smile, "koctopus."

The corners of his eyes are crinkled. He's not amused by the joke, Dean knows, just absurdly pleased to be saying something he knows will make Dean happy. Of course Dean knows that Cas loves him, knows the whole cosmic-realm-crossing magnitude of it, but in little moments like this, he's floored by it. Dean can't help his sudden exhale or the massive grin that breaks across his face. He wraps his husband up in hug that they hold for a good long moment, before Dean leans back to kiss Cas.

No one had ever explained to Dean how difficult it is to kiss someone when you can't stop smiling. He'd never had that problem before Cas, but now it's practically a daily occurrence. It's a menace because kissing Cas is one of Dean's favourite pastimes. Now, they trade little pecks between wide, toothy grins, until passion takes over and the kisses become heavier.

It takes someone wolf-whistling for them to part, and then they're back to grinning and staring into each others' eyes, until Dean spots something on Cas' face. And something else. And something else. In fact, there's something all over Cas, and that something is gold glitter. It's on his face, his hands, his Zeppelin shirt, and even in his hair. Dean runs his fingers through the unruly curls - Cas has been wearing his hair longer lately - in an attempt to shake it out, but only deposits more glitter into Cas' locks.

"Oops," Dean says, "I kinda glitter bombed you there. It's all over your shirt, too. Sorry, Sunshine."

He doesn't sound terribly sorry.

"This is your shirt, Dean."

"Aw, man."

He does sound a little sorry now, but his future laundry woes are forgotten when Cas presses another kiss to his pouting lips. They're forgotten again when something across the crowd catches Dean's eye.

"Oooh," Dean exclaims as he drags Cas towards the stall he's spotted.

It's selling cowboy hats in every configuration of colour imaginable, and Dean is practically jumping on the spot excitement. Cas looks his husband up and down, slowly.

"You think your outfit's lacking accessories?" he deadpans.

"Yup," is Dean's gleeful reply, "and so's yours."

Cas' groan is lost to the noise of the crowd and the beat of the music, so no-one will ever know if it was one of protest or defeat. He does, in fact, end up wearing a black cowboy hat with a rainbow band, so if it was protest then it was highly ineffective. Dean's has a pink crown, purple band and blue brim, and he's carrying another black one with a band in the non-binary flag colours for Jack. Cas admits that Jack's going to love it.

"Damn, this is awesome," Dean says as they head back to meet up with the rest of their family.

Walking hand in hand with Cas, Dean's thoughts wander. Dean could kick his younger self for every time he'd called someone gay or a girl as a way of saying they were weak. Because all he can see in the people around him is strength. He grins again, giddy with the atmosphere of defiant joy. All around him is everything he'd spent his life fighting to protect: freedom, family, and love. Holding his husband's hand a little tighter, he's grateful that in the end he gets to have both: freedom and peace.

#sorry to be late posting this - I was poorly but then I'm also naturally blessed with the writing speed of a sloth #thank you so much for hosting this event #spnprideweek #spn #supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #dean is bi #trans castiel #non-binary Jack Kline #my fic #happy pride 🌈

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Note

Also, we talked a mill years ago about an Inuyasha AU? You wanted to make G wear the necklace etc. Which OBVIOUSLY is a fantastic idea and I really which you would, please 🤣😘💗

Okay, so this isn’t exactly the necklace bit, but it’s the most Inuyasha crossover thing I could think of at the moment! Also I’m sorry that this has been sitting in my inbox for so long! <3 Oops!

Geralt turns into a human one night a month, during the new moon.

wordcount: 1.7k

TW: emotional Geralt whump, angst with a happy ending, pining

---

“Stay in the room,” Geralt instructed, glaring Jaskier down from his place near the door. The bard nodded obediently and made a show of pulling his recently acquired book from his travel bag.

“I might go down and perform for a bit, but I promise not to bring anyone back and I promise not to start any fights.”

“I’d rather you didn’t leave the room at all,” Geralt grumbled, “But I suppose the coin wouldn’t hurt.”

“Where are you going, anyway?”

“Next town over. Nightwraith.”

“Why can’t I come with you?” the bard pouted. His lower lip stuck out slightly and his eyes crinkled so cutely that it always made the Witcher question his ‘human’ parentage; there was a siren’s power in the way he turned up his nose and fluttered his pretty lashes. “Surely I could sit incredibly high up in a very sturdy tree and watch my glorious companion in all his… glory?”

“Excellent word choice,” Geralt rolled his eyes. He hefted his swords over his shoulder and shot the bard another meaningful look. “I’ll see you in the morning. Stay. Safe.”

“Yes, Milord,” Jaskier sighed dramatically, flopping back against the pillows and opening his book. “Return to me in as few pieces as possible, dear heart.”

“Hmm.”

And with that, Geralt disappeared into the late afternoon light.

---

There had been several distinctive changes to Geralt’s physical body after the second round of experimental Trials; his hair, of course, and his ghostly-pale skin were the most obvious. His greatest secret, however, and the strangest of all the Trials’ side effects, were the temporary changes he underwent on the nights of the new moon. His Witcher strength and senses abandoned him and his body returned to its pre-Trial state. He became, for all intents and purposes, a normal human man.

He hated it. He hated himself. There was no power behind his punches on his human nights and while he remained graceful and competent with his swords, he lost his speed and dexterity. It left him feeling helpless and alone, and an onslaught of emotions (which he was usually able to suppress or ignore) flooded his mind, pulling tears from his eyes and putting a ruddy redness on his cheeks and ears that he found ugly. No doubt Jaskier would find him just as hideous. And useless…

If he couldn’t protect the bard, the handsome young human who smiled at him as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be friends with a Witcher, then what good was he? Keeping Jaskier safe, keeping him alive and smiling like that, was what motivated Geralt to slump his way back to their room even when he wanted nothing more than to drop to the ground and pass out from exhaustion. Making sure Jaskier was okay (and, alright, getting his wounds fawned over and his hair washed wasn’t too bad either) was what kept him alive.

I can’t believe I forgot to keep track, Geralt berated himself as he set up his small campfire just inside the mouth of a cave. I almost revealed my secret to Jaskier.

Geralt wasn’t sure which outcome he feared more: Jaskier seeing him in his less horrible state and rejecting him completely for keeping secrets/being a true monster, or Jaskier finding his human body attractive and being even more disgusted by his Witchery appearance. Geralt wouldn’t be able to stand either outcome, so he disappeared into the woods or back to the Path (if Jaskier was stuck in a town, teaching or performing) whenever the night of the new moon arrived.

He sighed and crossed his legs, resting his elbows on his bent knees and setting his chin on one upright palm. He glanced up at Roach and grumbled out an excuse: “I just don’t want to lose him.”

Roach whinnied quietly, reproachfully, and Geralt nodded.

“You’re absolutely right, I should tell Jaskier about all of this, but if I tell him now, after travelling together for so long, he’ll think I don’t trust him. And I do trust him! I trust him as much as I trust my brothers, maybe more considering their pranks… But I don’t want to scare him off, either. I’m such a fucking coward.”

As the last light of day slipped away beneath the horizon and darkness fell, Geralt felt his hair grow coarser and heavier atop his head. His eyesight dimmed and his knowledge of the landscape - every scent and sound - disappeared from his consciousness. The scars on his skin faded away into nothing as his pupils dilated into circles, the irises shifting from honey-gold to a deep, forest green.

From a nearby bush, Geralt heard a familiar voice mutter, “Holy shit.”

He leapt to his feet and backed against the cave wall, throwing his arm across his face to hide it. “Dammit, Jaskier, I told you to stay at the inn!”

The bard took a nervous step forward, away from his hiding place, and waved bashfully. “Sorry, dear heart. Are you really- is it really you in there, Geralt?”

“Yes?” the Witcher-turned-human raised an eyebrow, lowering his arm back down to his side with no small amount of shame. “Who else would it be?”

“Well,” the bard said, taking a measured step forward. “I wasn’t sure if this was, like, a reverse-werewolf type deal. I didn’t know if you’d have the same memories as before or- or if-”

“It’s still me,” Geralt blushed, actually blushed, and dipped his head down to avoid Jaskier’s curious gaze. “I’m sorry for not telling you before, but-”

“Don’t.”

Geralt glanced back up, even more confused, his emotions playing havoc with his pulse. “I- Don’t I owe you an apology?”

“No,” Jaskier said, settling down on the rocky ground across the fire and gesturing for Geralt to join him. The flames lit up his face, highlighting the roundness of his cheeks and the softness in his eyes. So youthful, yet so determined. “If you’re still Geralt in here” - he tapped the side of his head and grinned playfully - “then you’re still my best friend.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh yeah, my Witcher is definitely in there somewhere,” Jaskier laughed brightly. The sound wound down and he wiped a tear of glee from the corner of his eye. After a long, sobering pause he asked: “So is this what you looked like before… they did all that stuff to you?”

“Before the Trials? Yes. This is what I looked like fifty years or so ago, when I was young and mortal. My shoulders are wider, of course, but that’s just old age.”

Jaskier made his way slowly around the fire, inching closer to Geralt, who had finally taken a seat on his bedroll. When the bard was right next to him, close enough for Geralt to feel their combined body heat through his shirt, he took a lock of Geralt’s hair in his hand. “It’s… it’s not as soft, like this. But it has curls! And it’s almost red!”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier looked overjoyed at the change, and every one of Geralt’s fears flashed before his eyes. He was tempted to wrench away, to fling himself up into Roach’s saddle and ride hard until they both needed a rest.

But Jaskier had begun talking again, and Geralt did his best to pay attention. “It’s different, but not bad. I think you’re only slightly more handsome when you’re a Witcher, but your eyes are a lovely shade of green and I’d love to do up your hair someday… if you’d like that. If you’d let me.”

Geralt made a startled noise and turned his head sharply, his eyes boring into Jaskier’s very soul. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course!”

“You don’t- you aren’t mad? Or scared? You don’t think I’m more approachable like this? You wouldn’t prefer me to be like this - like a human - all the time?”

Jaskier shook his head, a sadness Geralt often noticed but didn’t understand falling over his face. “Oh Geralt, you silly, silly, wonderful man. I don’t lo-” - he paused, took a deep breath, and continued - “I love you, okay? As a Witcher. Like this. I have always loved you and I will always love you, regardless of what you look like, but I fell in love with the White Wolf. The man whose reputation needed mending and whose heart… whose heart is so incredibly large despite how often the world tries to harden it.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt gasped. He clutched at his chest, the ache he felt there intensifying a hundredfold under Jaskier’s steady gaze. “I love you, too. I never thought-”

“You often don’t,” the bard teased, closing the space between them with careful, intentional slowness. “Now, keep up the good work and stop thinking entirely. Just kiss me, Geralt. Please?”

“Would you like it if I kissed you?” the Witcher asked, incredulous. Jaskier lifted one delicate hand and slid a lock of Geralt’s curly hair back behind his ear. He pressed a soft kiss to Geralt’s cheek and smiled.

“Very much, darling.”

“Alright,” Geralt breathed, closing the space between them. It felt so much more intense like this, with his heart beating as quickly as Jaskier’s, threatening to burst from his chest because it was overflowing with happiness. His hand, smooth and unblemished in its current state, cupped the peach-soft skin of the bard’s cheek. He ran his thumb over the hinge of Jaskier’s jaw, feeling the bone and joint working as their mouths moved together. When they finally pulled apart they were both beaming broadly, “Was it okay?”

“You’re very soft like this,” Jaskier noted. “But I miss your eyes and your hair… when will my Geralt return?”

“I’m still yours, Jaskier. Even when I look like this,” Geralt frowned. Jaskier took one of the Witcher’s hands in both of his and held it flat over his heart.

“I know, my dear. And I’m always yours, of course. It’s just… odd. I’ll get used to it the more often I see it, I’m sure. How long does it usually last?”

“I’ll be back to normal when the sun rises.”

“Until then?”

“Come here,” Geralt held up the corner of his blanket. Jaskier shifted so that they were cuddled together, side-by-side. “Better?”

“Now that I’m with you? Of course.”

#geraskier #geraskier ficlet #geraskier inuyasha au #idk what i'm doing anymore #stina what have we created #vaguely inuyasha based content #human geralt #getting together #first kiss #bouncey's endless au collection #bouncey's endless getting together fics

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

Their Doll 17

He loves you

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: you and Bucky stay in bed for a while. Y/n meets Sam

Warnings: fluff, kissing, implied smut, there’s probably some swearing somewhere

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

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Layers of pale sunlight streaked through the thin, flimsy white curtains, forming a rich sheen of dull yellow light across the room. The encroaching stream of gold cast over y/n's face blinked her awake, her heavy eyelids fluttering and her mouth opening in a sinfully beautiful yawn. Or at least Bucky thought so, but he thought everything about y/n was beautiful.

Bucky had been laying there for a near hour now, blue eyes gazing over his girl's features as she looked blissfully peaceful immersed in a deep sleep. Last night's events must've really fired her out. Y/n's small hand was splayed against his bare chest, chin tucked into the crook of his neck and body embraced by his warm, flesh arm. His fingers danced in small swirls against her back, drawing small figurines ever-so-lightly against she sunlit-skin.

A soft smile had found his lips, tugging them upwards into almost a grin at the sight of y/n in his arms. Her leg was still thrown over his waist haphazardly, his shirt ridden up to around her ribs, panties doing little to conceal what the shirt had revealed.

Y/n's head lifted slowly, his soft smile contagious in the way it curled upon her lips, too.

"Morning, soldier." She mumbled, raspy and broken with a mixture of the strain and sleep. He pulled the girl into him further, his small smile growing when he felt her nuzzle into his warmth. Her disjointed voice was cute, Bucky thought, a reminder to him that he wasn't the only one still struggling to fit in.

He'd spent nearly five months in Bruce's lab, on ice once again as the man and Tony both tried to figure out how to rid him of his winter soldier side. They'd recovered him the first mission they'd gone on, the one without Steve. And not even Steve new Bucky was back until a week ago, although the soldier was only released from the lab yesterday.

Bruce had offered to take Bucky to the party with him, but the super soldier had politely - albeit quickly - declined his offer, knowing almost off instinct that the party scene wasn't one for him. Instead, he'd asked for directions to y/n's room, where he had waited for probably close to an hour before y/n had come storming in.

"You sound like you've been gargling glass." Bucky teased, unable to keep a deadpan expression as the words formed on his lips. Y/n's mouth opened in shock, and she used one arm to prop herself up whilst smacking Bucky's chest with the other. He chuckled, grabbing the hand she'd used to hit him before lifting it to his lips. Bucky kissed each of her fingertips in-turn, before bringing it to cup his face and holding her warmth against his skin. He turned his mouth towards her palm, plump lips fluttering against it as y/n looked in with pure...adoration in her eyes.

"I love you." The words tumbled from her lips like a simple thank you before she could think it through, Bucky's lips stilled against the palm of her hand, his eyes searching hers as if he was trying to find a hint as to why she just said that. It took her a moment to realise that he could be confused, after all, she blurted the words rather quickly and even she wasn't sure that she would've heard them had they come from someone else's mouth. "I love you." She said slower, as if she was hand picking each word before she said it. "I'm totally and completely in love with you." She murmured, eyes captured by the awe struck across Bucky's face.

"W-why?" He finally mustered the courage to say, dropping her hand back to his chest. Y/n took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she did so as if to prepare herself for what she was about to say.

"Because, you were my calm after the storm. Everything bad that seemed to happen, you were there to pick up the pieces after." She explained, moving the hand that'd been dropped to his chest to rest over Bucky's heart. It was racing.

"But all I did was...look at you. Sometimes I was the problem." Bucky argued, almost with himself. It was like he didn't believe what y/n he said, like he thought she was trickling him.

"But your eyes...they quelled the anger, the frustration, the hurt and the pain," y/n continued on, "it's like the real you - not the winter soldier - was always waiting, like you were simply hiding in the sidelines." She confessed, a slither of a tear making its way across her waterline. She opened her mouth to say more, but she found her lips already pressed against his.

Bucky rolled them over, his frame hovering above y/n's as he covered her face in small, affectionate kisses.

"I love you too." He whispered against her ear, giving the lobe a playful nip that made y/n squeal and giggle, a sound that had Bucky grinning boyishly and tickling her sides with his slender fingers, relishing in the cute sound she made.

"Please!" She gasped, face red and tears of laughter streaking her face, "please, h-have mercy!" She pleaded with him.

"Only if you say it again." Bucky smirked, straddling her hips and tickling his fingers against her sides.

"Say what?" Y/n breathed, her small form writhing beneath his as he kept up him ministrations.

"You know exactly what." Bucky mumbled as he leant over y/n, beginning to kiss and suck her neck too.

"I love you." She said softly, voice not as crackly now that she'd spoken a little bit more. Bucky's fingers halted for a moment, his nose brushing against hers and their breaths mingled as his stared deeply into her eyes.

"I know." He whispered, pecking the tip of her nose before beginning to tickle the poor girl again, a wolfish grin playing against his lips.

"You promised!" Y/n gasped, trying desperately to get out his grip.

"Oops." Bucky mumbled against her lips, connecting them once again.

...

We had stayed in bed most of the morning, desperate to avoid Steve and my dad for as long as we possibly could. But at noon Bucky ushered me out of bed, claiming he was to meet with a friend and that it was bad for us to spend all day in bed.

I had sighed, getting out of bed with a huff before he was pulling me into his lap, back against his chest and his lips kissing my neck softly. His warm skin against mine made me relax, his hand on my cheek tilting my head back to meet his in a sweet kiss all the convincing I needed.

Sweaty, hot, and flustered, I panted as I climbed the stairs to the floor my apartment was on in the tower. I swiped my forehead, grimacing at the sticky feel of my sweat covering the back of my hand.

To blow off some steam and the manifesting stress of yesterday, I'd decided to go on a short run. That had turned into five bloody miles. So naturally, I was a knackered, panting mess with hair clinging to my face and sweat forming dark patches under my armpits.

I conquered the last flight of stairs - too stubborn to take the elevator as I was more likely to bump into Steve or Tony that way - and dragged my feet the whole way to my room.

I pushed the door open, a hundred-percent ready to flop onto either my bed or my sofa and die. But when I walked in, I was greeted by the sight of Bucky and some guy I'd never met sat at the small breakfast bar in the kitchen of my apartment, two coffee mugs resting in front of them.

The sound of the door opening had caught both mens' attention, both facing me. I offered a weak smile, shoulder slumped with her tiredness. I was mentally cursing, embarrassed that Bucky's friend was seeing me like this the first time we's met.

"Hey, doll." Bucky smiled, clearing his throat when I looked at him questioningly. "This is Sam. I hope you're okay with us using your room." Bucky said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck and giving me an apologetic smile, "Steve was meant to show me to mine last night. Obviously that's not going to happen now." He said, met with a chuckle from Sam.

"You must be y/n. It's great to finally meet you." Sam smiled kindly, his face soft and he seemed to not be affected by my state, or if he was he didn't show it. I smiled back, slightly wider this time.

"Yeah. It's nice to meet you to, although Bucky's never mentioned you before." I commented, trying to keep my tone civil, the ache in me to just collapse to the floor growing. He chuckled, so did Bucky.

"I, uh, I met him a while back. Six months ago maybe? Of course, he was trying to kill me at the time." Sam said comically, slapping a hand onto Bucky's shoulder a Bucky looked down at his drink, pearly whites shown as he laughed.

"Oh." Was all I said, instantly connecting the dots. That's when I was with HYDRA, I realised. The second time. Sam stood slowly, grabbing his jacket from the back of the barstool before turning to me.

"Well, it was wonderful meeting you."

"You too." I smiled.

"And thank you for the coffee." He finished, directing it at Bucky this time. The soldier smiled and waved at Sam as he left, standing from his own seat to deposit the used mugs in the little sink. Sam's exit was announced bu the thud of the door as it swung shut.

"At least give a girl some warning, next time." I instantly chided, shoulder slumping at Bucky sauntered over to me. He was amusedly smiling, teeth on show as her hooked arm arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest.

"Sorry." He mumbled, placing a chaste kiss into my hair. "Now go have a shower, you need it." He said, pushing me away and turning me towards the bathroom.

"Hey!" I complained, yelping as I felt his hand connect with my ass as I began to walk away.

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barbecuebabybackribs · 4 years

Text

Being in a Poly relationship with Emmett and Rosalie would include:

(Gender Neutral Pronouns

I hope you guys enjoy this! It just popped into my head so I decided to write it out for all of y’all. Also this is super long!! Just a heads up, Enjoy and stay safe guys:) )

To say you surprised them would be a big understatement

They’d both be really conflicted- neither of them wanted to admit they wanted to pursue you

Edward would take pity on them

“Emmett, Rosalie, you both want to be with Y/N- the other won’t be upset if you admit it.”

“...”

Emmett is absolutely pumped- having one mate? Amazing, fabulous. But having two? ABSOLUTE HEAVEN

Rosalie is a bit more conflicted- you’re a human, so fragile and vulnerable. Being around her would mean you’re constantly at risk, not to mention the fact that you becoming a vampire at one point or another shakes her to her very core.

Emmett agree’s to not ask you out until Rosalie is comfortable with it, IF, she agrees to befriend you in the meantime

The next time your in the cafeteria- sitting alone picking at the cheap school lunch, when two people sit at the table with you

When you look up you realize Emmett is on your left and Rosalie is on your right- your surrounded by the schools power couple- the schools very attractive power couple

“Um, Hello?” you say nervously due to the fact they never interact with others outside of there family- let alone you.

“Hello, I’m Rosalie, your Y/N, Right?”

“Yeah, and I know you, You’re Rosalie Hale, and That’s Emmett Cullen, your basically the talk of the school.”

“Oh really? So what have they been saying about us?” Emmett would laugh- knowing some of the rumors going around town were a bit wild.

You’d talk for the rest of the lunch period, telling them about yourself and all the rumors about them- some as simple as Rosalie being a bleached blonde, some being that Emmett ran a satanic sex cult and Rosalie flirts with people to lure them in- that one had Emmett and Rosalie nearly rolling on the floor with laughter

For the next week they’d always sit with you at lunch and you started to consider them friends

The next week they showed up after your last class and walked you to your car

The next week at lunch they started telling you about how they were heading up to Seattle during the weekend

“Hey you know what? You should go with us!”

“Oh? I would hate to impose and be a third wheel.”

“Come on, we’d love to have you there.” Emmett would smile and wrap and arm around you.

You’d look to Rosalie to see if she was okay with it, She had a smile on her face so you assumed she was down

“Yeah, it does sound like fun.”

They’d pick you up from your house the next day in their Jeep

Emmett was blaring music which caused you neighbors to give you a dirty look

Emmett insists you see the “Gum Wall” Which was both interesting a gross

Rosalie takes you to the top of the Space Needle

Rosalie almost has a heart attack- if that were possible- when you stand up to fast and get light headed

Emmett forces you to sit back down and tries to keep Rosalie from calling Carlisle

“I’m sorry guys, I just got light-headed since I haven’t eaten yet today.”

They both forgot you had human needs and Rosalie sits with you scolding you for not telling them you were hungry earlier while Emmett finds food for you

Comes back essentially holding enough food to feed 20 people

“UM! That’d a lot!”

“Well I didn’t know what you wanted so I got one of everything.”

You awkwardly eat as much as you can- offering a lot of it to them and being a tad confused when they decline

You end up giving the leftovers to homeless people

You end up having an amazing day, they take you and bid you farewell- saying you had to do it more often

Watching them drive away you realize you’d fallen for them

You low key feel guilty and the next time the sit with you, you can’t get the thought of you being a horrible person and homewrecker out of your head- I mean they’re in love with each other, who are you to think you even stand a chance?

They both realize something’s off with you and ask Edward later that day if he noticed anything in your thoughts- even though Rosalie told him to stay out of your head.

He tells them what you had been conflicted about

They’re conflicted

Emmett’s pumped you officially like them- and both of them, part of him was worried about you only falling for one of them

Rosalie was happy you shared there feelings but the fact you thought negatively of yourself because of them ate her up.

Rosalie tells Emmett it’s time to consider asking you out,

It still takes them a few weeks to officially ask but suddenly your receiving presents from them and being invited to all kinds of outings

You make them string friendship bracelets and they think it’s the cutest thing in the world- they both wear them 24/7

Movie “Outings”

Hiking “Outings”

Port Angela’s “Outings”

Going to lunch wear only you eat

Getting ice cream where only you eat.

Basically any human thing they can do, you’re right there next to them

Emmett takes you to play football and only laughs at how bad you are

You’re jaw drops to the floor when you see Emmett throw the ball out of the field

“How the hell?!?”

“Oops, to much power in that one.”

Rosalie takes you on a self pamper day

Hair- Check . Nails- Check. skin Care- Check. Gossip- Check.

You go home that day having dirt on everyone in the town

One day your surprised to see they aren’t waiting for you after class, you stick around for a few minutes to see if they’re late- but they never show

Eventually you head to your car and see them waiting for you there and they finally officially ask you out

Rosalie starts to say it but hesitates and Emmett says it for her

“Y/N, We wanna go out with you.”

“... Like... to the movies?”

“No, we mean, we want to date you.” Rosalie says, tightening her grip on Emmett’s hand

Your silent for a few seconds and they’re worried you’’re going to say no

Pleasantly surprised when you break out in a big smile and say “Yes!”

“Awesome.” Emmett says pulling you into long bear hug- which he squeezes a little to tight but you just savor the moment

Rosalie is standing next to the both of you, absolutely shocked and excited, gets a big smile on her face when she see’s you and Emmett’s smile and hears how fast your heart is beating

You all enjoy your evening together- your smiles never leaving your faces

They drive you home and Rosalie gives you a hug goodbye- which turns into a group hug when Emmett joins

They never tell you but they heard you call your friend practically squealing in excitement as you told them you’d just got back on a date with “Rosalie AND EMMETT”

They both went home down right giddy- they got cornered by Alice, with Jasper and Edward both in the corner snickering

After you officially start dating Emmett and Rosalie don’t hold back

Emmett has picked you up and carried you around school multiple times

Rosalie had to be physically restrained when someone had the audacity to grope your ass

She still gave them a piece of her mind tho- and it’s rumored they never laid a hand on another person again

They help you study and do your homework- they do have lot’s of experience after all

When your parents aren’t home you all stay up late in the living room watching movies- Rosalie finds your mom baby photo album of you and gushes over tiny you

You end up falling asleep on Emmett’s shoulder- Rosalie takes a photo of you two

Dates with each other but also dates where its just you and Rosalie, you and Emmett, or just the two of them

Emmett kisses you first- takes you surprise and kisses you after he dropped you off at home, then drove away with the biggest cheeky grin in the world

Rosalie is low-key jealous they kissed you first

Next time you see Rosalie? She dips you over and gives you a big ole kiss

Smugly smiles when she see’s you have the biggest blush on your face known to man

After the initial kiss it’s just part of the daily norm

A kiss when you first see each-other, when you say goodbye, a random smooch or two threw out the day

You get all kinds of envious glares from others

Also people who just think you’re sickingly cute

Rosalie decides it’s time for you to know about vampires when you start asking why they never eat on your guy’s dates and there eye’s always change colors

Take you on a long hike so there’s no one around to hear, also encase you feel the need to scream in confusion/fear

You think they’re joking at first

That is until Emmett picks up a boulder and throws it like it’s a baseball across the field

You sit down on a log to process for a second

“Y/N... Are you okay?”

“I made out with a vampire... I made out with two vampires... I’m DATING TWO VAMPIRES!”

You have a million questions and they answer them all

You ask Emmett to pick you up with one hand- he does and laughs at how surprised you are

“You’re like the hulk!”

You dramatically lean against a tree and tell Rosalie she’ll need to carry you back since your just soo tired- you mean it mainly as a joke

To your surprise she carries you bridal style all the way home- laughing at how giddy you are over such a simple thing

They don’t have fully have sex with you while your human but they are willing to do a lot of other things

They forgot how much humans blush at simple things and it makes no-beating hearts ache

Introduction to the family is a bit awkward but pleasant

Esme absolutely adores you and loves cooking you complex dishes

Carlisle is so happy to see you making his “Kids” happy and also is happy that you’re such a lovely person in general

Edward and Alice basically already know everything about you

Alice gets a little to excited and talks about how good of friends you’ll be and how she’s already planning your new wardrobe

Rosalie pry’s her away from you

Edward doesn’t say much to you but is nice, a little moody but nice

Bella makes sure you feel welcome and tells her if your’re ever struggling to come to her because she’s been in the same situation and knows what it’s like

After meeting them it basically becomes your second home

They get a bed put in there room so you can spend the night

They love cuddling with you while you sleep, adoring how you’ll softly mumble random words

Cute little picnic dates

You watch Rosalie work on cars and attempt to help her

She ends up teaching you the basics

Sometimes you read to her while she works on cars, or you simply keep her company

Emmett and you wrestle a lot- although he obviously always wins besides the few times he lets you win

You’ve randomly leaped onto his back to many time to count- he loves it

You all go on vacation together during the summer

You go to some private beach and gush over how there skin sparkles so beautifully

Rosalie and Emmett nearly die on the spot when they see you get hit by a car

Rosalie holds you while Emmett calls 911

They realize the cops won’t get there in time- but they don’t want to “doom” you to the life of a vampire

“It’s okay guys, you don’t have to do it.” You would smile weakly at them

“Don’t say that, you’ll be fine.”

It was a lie and you all knew it

When your heart beats starts to slow down and you’re eyes flicker closed they silently agree they have to do it

Emmett is the one who bites you- a lump forming in his throat as you groan in pain as the venom starts to take affect

Rosalie cradles you softly as you start your transition- they end up moving you when they hear the ambulance coming close

They calls the rest of the cullens and let them know- Alice had already seen it but she was to late to call and warn them

They all come to you but all silently agree to only let Rosalie and Emmett in the room your in until you’re ready- most newborns want to be alone

When you wake up and your blood red eyes flicker around the room, you jump up so fast you break the bed frame

All previously dull colors are now vibrant and almost headache inducing, you can hear everything in a room that was previously silent, and the smells- the smells were the worst part, everything was so overwhelming

Not to mention the almost unbearable burning in the back of your throat

“Y/N, are you alright?”

You look over to see a very stressed looking Emmett and Rosalie

“Uhm” You rasp out before clearing your throat, “I.. think so?”

Rosalie offers you a cup of blood Edward had caught for you

You hesitantly take it and ask “What... What does it take like.”

“Take a sip and find out!” Emmett slaps your back and then rubs it supportingly

You take a small sip, surprised at how much it lessens the burning in your throat “It’s.. okay.” You say not wanting to admit it was really good to you- although you do finish the glass

Alice proceeds to carry a whole mirror into the room so you can see yourself- you stare awkwardly at your reflection that now seems foreign

Vampire lessons by everyone

Jasper and Emmett teach you to fight

Carlisle teaches you restraints

Edward and Bella teach you the whole cover story

Rosalie and Alice teach you “How to act human 101″

Emmett and Rosalie both find you one day obviously upset when you realize you’ll have to leave behind your friends and family

They help you learn to cope and let you know it’s completely normal to feel what you feel

Emmett cheers you up by throwing you fifty feet in the air- which was a unique method that worked wonders

Emmett sneak attacks you and you flinch so hard you put a hole in the wall

You get him back by tackling him to the ground- which only works for a second before he’s rolled on top of you and hungrily looking at you lips

You end up making out in the middle of the woods

When the rest of the cullens go back home you decide to stay at the beach for another week

During that week you all agree to take the next step- multiple times

It’s a good thing jasper is out of there because you are full of lust for literal days

You all go home and Edward immediately cringes at Emmett’s thoughts

You home to reveal all your previous rooms stuff had been moved to Rosalie and Emmett’s room- Well now Rosalie, Emmett’s, and Your room

You all are cuddle bugs

Resting your head on Rosalie’s chest is your favorite thing

Well, Clinging to Emmett’s back while he makes his way threw daily life is also up there

You all go hunting together and are one powerful gang

In Rosalie’s eyes your all damned but at least you’re damned together

You all spend the rest of your very long lives protecting and loving each other- even threw the roughest of times nothing could break you apart

You all love each other and that’s enough

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 3 years

Text

Relaxation - (Ezra x f!reader)

Summary: After a long day of prospecting you help your partner Ezra unwind. A mutual on another site posted the bts gif of Pedro as Ezra getting a massage... and it gave me this idea :x oops Rating: Explicit Warnings: mutual pining, language, slight mention of an age gap, piv unprotected sex, slight fingering, and creampie AO3 Link | Masterlist | Join my taglist via here!

Another long day of prospecting on The Green with your companion Ezra was in the books. You had secured quite a few gems in today's dig which was great since the past few days you had not done so well. The trek back to your tent wasn’t short which wasn’t fun after the long and tiresome day. Both you and Ezra groaned and sighed along the way, joints and muscles sore from digging all day. A hot shower and some rest was much needed.

Finally arriving back at your tent you both stripped down of your suits once closed inside from the toxic area. Chucking the helmets and air filter equipment aside, suit shoved down to your feet and kicked aside.

“Whew I am utterly exhausted, birdie.” Ezra groans as he trots over to his cot. “Every fiber of my being aches. I haven't felt this sore in many cycles.”

Ezra stretches out his arms and legs, rolling his head to feel some ease in his joints and muscles but it was to no help it seemed. You walk over and sit on the edge of his cot, placing a hand on his arm. You felt sore too but knew Ezra was probably suffering more since did the majority of the digs work and was older in age than you.

“Would you like me to try and help ease the ache Ez?” You ask.

“Whatever do you mean?” He asks, eyeing you.

“I can give you a massage to help ease the pain in your muscles some if you'd like. Might help.” You shrugged.

“I would be absolutely enthralled by that birdie. Maybe it would help. However, I do not wish to bother you and make you in more pain by helping me.” He states.

“Ez, I am fine. I offered as well. Now go change into your sweats.” You chuckle.

He rolls out of his cot, grabbing his sweat pants from the foot of his bed and heads into the small sectioned off bathroom to change. Returning a few minutes later and only in said sweatpants. You motion for him to go crawl back into his cot, face down and he follows suit. You sit back on the edge of his cot, looking at him and question how to get a good angle to do your work.

“Um Ez? Is it okay if I uh… straddle your body a bit? I think I'd have a better angle to massage that way.” You blush.

“Not at all. Go forth.” He mumbles from his face half in the pillow.

You slide a leg over his torso and gently sit on his rear. Popping the cap of the lotion bottle, you squirt some in your hands and start to spread it on his back. Your hands work at the right muscles in his shoulders and neck first. Gently rubbing circles into the tight muscles. Ezra groans in response, enjoying the ache already starting to ease. Your hands slide down to work at his spine and sides next. Feeling as if you got most of the tenseness out of his back you ask him to flip over. Moving off of him to sit beside him and then restraddling him but at his knees instead this time. As you work at massaging the ache in his body away you can't help but to admire him. The faint few scars he has here and there from his life of prospecting, the soft belly and bit of dark hair trailing down into the waistline of his sweats. Your hands work at the planes of his chest and down his arms, slowly working down his sides too. After a bit your hands work at rubbing his hips and upper thighs but after a bit Ezra groans and pushes your hands away.

“I think that’ll do little bird.”

“Ez, I haven't even done your legs and feet yet…” You state and look down for a second, only to catch a growing tent in his sweats.

Ezra catches your gaze. “M-my sincerest apologies birdie. Please ignore that. Like I previously stated that’ll do. Thank you for the superb massage.”

You don't move from your spot but, instead slide your hands down his side again and gently massage his hips, your hands trailing inwards just a bit. Ezra groans again.

“Ez?” You question and look up at him. Your eyes locking. You continue your massage, hands trailing inwards more, slightly grazing the tent in his sweats. “Want to explain?” You smirk.

“Birdie…” He sighs. “ I-I am and have been utterly infatuated with you for a while now. We’ve been partners for some time, it was bound to happen at some point for many reasons. I acknowledge if you do not reciprocate these emotions. I did not mean for this…” he nods his heads toward the tent in his sweats. “To occur.”

You chuckle and slide forward, straddling his hips now, which entices a groan out of him. Leaning down, hands sliding across his torso, landing on his chest, you bring your face to his.

“I like you too Ezra. Have for a while. If you want… I can help ease the ache there too.” You say with a smirk as you lean forward pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Oh birdie… I would be enamored by that.” He sighs into the kiss.

You lean back up, staying straddled on his hips and grinding down on him some. Ezra bucks his hips up in response, hands finding hold of your hips. Continuing to slowly grind against him you work at removing your tunic and bra, tossing them to the floor.

“Kevva...” Ezra sighs at the sight of your breasts. “May I?” He asks, sliding a hand up your side slowly.

Giving him a confirmation nod, his hand finds its way to grasp a hold of one of your breasts. He gives it a gentle squeeze. Raising himself up a bit onto one elbow he takes the breast in his hand into his mouth. His tongue rolls around the bud, getting it to peak. He swaps elbows to rest on and then does the same to the other breasts.

You slide back from his hip a bit and caress your hand over his growing bulge. He doesn’t give you a warning before his arm intertwines around you, flipping you underneath him. His fingers hook into the waistband of your pants, giving a gentle tug before looking up into your eyes for confirmation still game. You give him a nod and he pulls them and your underwear down your legs. He wets his lips as he takes in your naked body before him. You shuck the rest of your bottoms off to the foot of the bed.

Exquisite.” He smirks. “Just like I knew you'd be.”

You blush and trail your hands from his arms to his hips, tugging on the waistband of his sweats down his body, revealing his cock already leaking from the tip. You wet your lips at the sight and wrap your hand around it. You run your thumb over the tip, spreading his pre-cum around which entices a groan out of him.

“Fuck… birdie that feels… oh that feels pleasant.” He says between pants. He discards his sweats the rest of the way and sits back on his haunches.

You pump his cock a little bit, warming him up as you lean forward to press a kiss to his jaw where the bare patch is in his beard. You trail your kisses across his jaw and down his neck, stopping at his collarbone.

His hand snakes its way down to your core where he taps both thighs to spread farther, which you do. He caresses the inside of your thighs and then teases a finger at your entrance when reaches it. He eases a thick finger into your folds, pumping it in and out of you. You gasp at the sensation. He eases another thick finger into you, continuing the same motions.

“Shit Ez… your fingers are so thick. Feels so good.” You moan.

“I have to say birdie, I am without doubt my cock will feel better.” He smirks.

You look back down at his thick length, clenching around his fingers at the sight of it. You know it will and you can't wait.

“Ez, please.” You whine. Your hand finds his length again, giving it some strokes.

He groans and bucks up into your hand. “What do you need?”

“Let me ease your ache… and you can ease mine too.”

His hands find hold of your hips with one hand, the other grabs his cock and lines it up at your entrance, sliding the tip of it through your folds teasingly. He slowly pushed into you inch by inch until his hips are against yours, bottoming out inside of you. You both let out gasps at the feeling of each other. You feel so full and Ezra loving how tight you are.

“Fuck birdie. You feel amazing.” He states, not moving yet.

“So do you. Please move Ezra.”

Ezra slowly pulls out, leaving just the tip remaining before pushing back in. He keeps a slow pace, loving the feeling and wanting to revel in the moment. He dreamed of this day for a while and it’s finally happening. He doesn’t want it to end anytime soon. His hand on your hip slides to squeeze your breast, teasing the nipple some. As he continues the slow pace and teasing you, he leans forward and his mouth captures yours. His tongue caresses your lips, asking for entrance. Once allowed in his tongue glides against yours. He kisses you for a good few seconds but then removes his lips from yours and rolls over, so you are now on top of him.

“Take jurisdiction birdie. Ease my ache.” He groans, holding onto your hips.

You lift your hips up off of him before slamming back down, picking up a bit faster pace. He groans at the feeling. You lean forward a bit, hands bracing on his chest. Your lips find his jaw and kiss along it, trailing down to hsi neck and nipping some.

“Kevva…” He sighs.

His hand finds your clit and starts rubbing circles as you continue to ride him fast, working to get you close to release. You whimper at the feeling, already feeling warmth take over your body. After a few more thrusts you start to jitter some feeling close to the edge.

“Ez, I’m close…” You whine.

He smirks but stays silent and continues to let you ride him, taking what you need from him as he works your clit. After another thrust or two you let go, soaking his cock with your release. His fingers work you through your high and once you come down from it he flips you back over to be underneath him again. He slams his cock in and out of you at a fast pace, chasing his own release. He was close. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he grunted with each thrust. You kiss the bare patch in his beard, your favorite spot to kiss now.

“Birdie, I do believe I am near.” He huffs. “Where would you like me to relieve myself?”

“Inside my Ez. I am safe.” You sigh.

He groans in response, enjoying that he can find release inside you and fill you up. He feels his release coming, just on the edge, a few more thrusts should do it. However, you trail your hand down and gently fondle his balls which send him over the edge. He never knew what that could do but it was just what he needed, With that he releases inside of you, filling you full of his seed. He slows his thrusts, coming to a stop. He smiles and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Did I ease your ache Ez?” You smirk. “Because you certainly eased mine.”

“My ache has been utterly eased. I am forever indebted to you birdie.” He smiles. “I appreciate your care for me this eve.”

He slowly pulls out of you, seeing his seed spill out of you a bit. Getting the sheet to his cot wet. “We may need to freshen up and replace the bed. Seems we have caused a bit of a disarray.”

“A shower would be nice. Even though my quote on quote ache has been eased… I still feel a bit sore from the dig today.” You blush.

“A scorching shower sounds utterly astonishing to me. Plus, maybe…” He smirks.

You roll your eyes at his comment and roll out of bed, making your way to the sectioned off bathroom in your tent to which he follows.

“We’ll have to do some harder digs in the future I guess if they lead to this…” You wink.

“Agreed.” Ezra smiles, starting the shower up to finally ease the actual ache away. Taglist: @sarahjkl82-blog @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @blackberries45 @s-unflowxr @donnaa @darnitdraco If you are crossed out means I could not find you to tag

#ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #prospect #pedro pascal #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own

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shoyothemoron · 3 years

Text

Cerulean Butterflies

Dabi x Good Girl Reader

You just can't help but let him in when Dabi comes calling, even though he's definitely out of place in your perfect little life

Angst? Idk kinda ,more like one sided pining

Words- 1.4k

Warnings- Sex is kinda eluded to but nothing graphic, just Dabi being a brat

A/N- Oh ho ho I finally posted some original work and OOP MY SECOND FIC. Anyway I’d love feedback. And I hope I got his personality right <3

You sighed, throwing your laptop off your lap and on to the other side of the couch. Looking around your neat apartment you were pleased at how productive you had been today. The group presentation that was due the next day was turned in. The assignment due next week could totally be put off until tomorrow. Your laundry was tumbling in the dryer, and you had meals prepped, so no more worrying about cooking for the next few days

Rubbing your eyes you decided could go on your phone or read a little bit before going to bed, so you hopped up to put on your pjs. But before you could reach your bedroom, you stopped at the open window in your living room. You covered your eyes and groaned.

You shook your head trying to undo your thoughts. Tonight had been going SO well. Of course he had to worm his way into it. For some reason, nights like the ones outside your window would always remind you of him. Nights where the moon was full and the sky wasn´t black but indigo. And you could see every cloud illuminated.

You needed to stop thinking about him. You knew men like him liked to chew up and spit out girls like you. He knew what he wanted, and there was a reason he was so good at it. But you couldn't help it, he could deliver you to heaven and cradle you as you fell back down. Dabi was addicting.

You made your way to your bedroom, trying to stop yourself from thinking of him. But as soon as you had put on your pajamas, you heard a knock on your door. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, and the most devilish motherfucker you knew was standing on your doorstep. You sighed and pulled on a cardigan, trying to come up with a good reason to send him away.

Opening your door, you lean against the doorway to block him from entering.

“What Dabi?”

You watched his eyes as he racked them up and down your figure, and suddenly every bit of confidence you had melted away. His gaze just held that type of power over you.

“Aw, no hello kiss?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

You blush, and can´t meet his eyes. Pouting you say “No, I only give kisses to good boys.”

He scoffs. Yeah that was to be expected.

“Listen Dabi, I really can't help you with whatever you need this time...” You still cant meet his gaze, and you just hope, by some miracle he´d maybe turn around and leave.

He signs “Doll,” His sudden change of tone makes you look up in concern, and he meets your eyes.

His eyes always shocked you, the cerulean made you question how eyes that beautiful really existed. You shifted your gaze to his scars and staples, and you felt a pang in your heart.

No! You couldn't get soft now, not when you almost had a strong start.

“I'll spare you the details, but things haven't been going well for me recently, and I know you don't like when I steal...” Now he's the one who can´t meet your eyes.

Steal? What was he… Oh, he was hungry.

Well, now you felt like a dick. Looking in his eyes you tried to come up with a reason to say no. Really you did, but you couldn't deny him. So you move out of the door to let him in

He bussels into your home, suddenly a new man, “So what's for dinner?”

You purse your lips staring at his back. Fucker, he knew you couldn't say no when it came to stuff like that.

You made your way to your kitchen, rolling your eyes as you say, “Whatever I decide to make for you.”

“Aw is someone pouting? Just admit you can´t resist me.” He says the last part in a sing-song voice and you want to kick him out right then and there, he could go hungry for all you care. But when he looks away, his smirk drops and suddenly your ache to cradle his face and kiss every inch of it. He looked so tired.

Deciding against punching his already imperfect face, you start working on his meal. It feels like it takes forever as you cut food and stand in front of the stove, you can feel his eyes on your back the whole time. You try to ignore them and act natural, but it wasn´t until the very end when you were standing in front of the stove stirring the food when you suddenly felt a presence behind your back.

“So,” Dabi says as he wraps his arms around your waist and presses himself against you, “how will I ever repay you?”

“Don't go acting like a gentleman now Dabi,” you slap away the hand that was getting a little too close to your chest, “I know when I´m being exploited.”

“Good them we’re on the same page.” He chuckles and smacks your ass, making you squeak.

He moves to lean against the counter a few feet away, and you will yourself to not look up into his eyes until the food is ready.

When you finally hand him the plate, you sit side by side at the island. After a few moments he asks “What are you thinking about?”

You immediately look away from him. You had been thinking about something, but you couldn't bring yourself to tell him. You were even having trouble telling yourself.

In reality you were scolding yourself, telling yourself to stop thinking about what this thing right in front of you meant. Because it could never mean what you really wanted. Because what you really wanted was to turn to him and scream that you loved him. You wanted to shake him and yell hysterically and maybe just hurt him a little. To say ‘Can't you see that when you're here you're my everything. Can't you see me falling right in front of you, won't you catch me?’ But you didn't think you would ever be able to tell him.

You were also terrified to fall in love with him. Because even though you might love him, loving and being in love were separate things. And you knew that if you fell in love with him and he adored you like you wanted to be adored, he would have to ask you to do things you didn't know you could do. Things that any self respecting girl with a future ahead of her would run from as fast as she could. And you couldn't blame her. You could never abandon the future you were so delicately building for yourself.

So you would pretend that you couldn´t understand your feelings, that you didn't know how you felt about Dabi, that everything was a bundle of hatred, guilt and lust. But you knew yourself, and knew it was pretend. But how could you tell him? How do you tell someone like him you loved him?

So instead of telling the man you loved the truth, all you said was, “How obnoxious you are.” As you stole something off his plate.

“Me? The obnoxious one? Well that's certainly out of charter for a good girl such as yourself...” He began as you giggled, bumping his shoulder.

And so the night would go. It would go like every night before, and every night to follow. Unless one day you had the nerve to ruin it all. You would talk with him while he ate, making each other laugh, and roll your eyes. You would end up a blushing mess every now and then. Eventually you would fall into bed, where he would make you feel SO good, good enough to forget, to let the butterflies in your stomach consume you, to enjoy their frantic wings and how brave they made you feel. You would go back and forth from bed, to the kitchen, to bed. Until finally he would keep you warm as you fell asleep. He would warm your bed for long enough. And you would wake all by yourself, only to remember him in flashes that would make you blush. You would remember him until you could will yourself to stop, until you organized your life again, into its neat clean rows. But sometimes you´d slip up, remembering, leaving you alone with only a feeling. He would leave nothing but a storm of cureulian butterflies.

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generallybarzy · 3 years

Text

the queen + her good boy. ---m.barzal

inspo: kings & queens, ava max… “you might think I’m weak without a sword, but if i had one it’d be bigger than yours” ……… that’s so hot….

an: here’s that smutty fic that turned out being a loooooot more than a blurb, oops. I literally can’t stop thinking about this cincept and I definitely think its something Mat’d be into. A lot of people see him as a sub and a lot see him as a dom, and I’m pretty much on the “he’s a soft dom”/switch side but now I appreciate both so…. this fic is the outcome. im so so proud of this, i think i used realllllly good descriptions and its really hot but i also don’t like bragging so please tell me if you like it cause i speedwrote this in like 2 days. praise me like the reader praises maty. Reminder that all you girls are 👑queens👑 and you better make any guys treat you as such. Only reciprocate and make him feel like a king if he deserves it 💕.

warning: smut.

word count: 4.3k

The first time you said it, it surprised him.

You weren't unhappy with your sex life in any way. You weren't bored, you weren't looking for a change, you weren't trying to make it more exciting. You were content. It was beautiful, you both gave and received, it was an even back and forth, and you had plenty of different "modes". You communicated and had little important talks about sex, you made it the best it could be. You weren't stuck in a sexual rut, in fact, you couldn't be happier with where you were. Something just felt so right about those words.

The first time you said it, Mat's mouth was between your thighs.

You were spread out on the couch, legs on Mat's shoulders and hands tangled in his hair as he knelt on the floor between your thighs and lapped away at your heat. It felt so good, so fucking perfect that you couldn't control yourself. You were yanking on his dark locks, tugging his face closer, spurred on by the wet noises of his mouth, his chin, his nose all up against your pussy, eating to his heart’s content, his nose bumping against your clit and making your legs squeeze around his head. You felt so in control, being able to push and pull him any way you want, and Mat felt so at your will, letting you guide him and tell him what you wanted most.

And when those two words slipped out in the heat of the moment, Mat realized just how much he loved the position he was in.

"Ohhh, good boy."

The sound that escaped his throat was like a moan, a whine almost, as his pretty eyes shot up to look at you, at the way your chest was rising and falling with each heavy breath, at the way you were looking down at him, a fire in your eyes.

His eyes wide, his jaw slack and his face shiny with your slick as he leaned back from your cunt to gaze up at you, the dumbstruck expression making his pleasure evident.

“Oh, damn.”

“You like that, Maty?” You bit your lip, watching the way his hand moved down to the stirring in his pants and loving the way you affected him. “You like it when I call you that, baby?”

“Hell, yes.” He shuffled around on the floor, tugging his tight jeans down his thighs and pushing them aside to ease the pressure on his straining cock. “Say it again.”

“Only if you get back to your job.” And with that, you tugged him closer until his mouth reconnected with your clit. “Right there…” He went to work, sucking and kissing and bringing his fingers up to dip at your entrance, pushing and pulling you in all the ways he knew you loved. “Oh yeah, Maty. Just like that.” You stroked his hair, gentler than before, curling your fingers through the fluffy locks and dragging your nails over his scalp just how you knew it comforted him. “You’re so good to me... Always treating me so nicely, making me cum so good. You’re my good boy, aren’t you, baby?”

He moaned again, vibrating against your warmth. “Mhmm. Yeah, princess.”

Your eyes fell shut momentarily, satisfied, and savoring the feeling before an idea struck you. “No,” You pulled his hair and forced his gaze up to you. You “Oh, no, baby, I’m the queen now.”

“Fuck. Fuck yes you are.”

"You like this? You like being so submissive for me?"

"Holy shit." Mat’s hand fell to his cock for a few helpless strokes. "Yes. Fuck yes."

“Now,” You put your foot on the back of Mat’s head and pulled him in again, tired of all the banter and just wanting your release. “Are you gonna be a good boy and make your queen cum?”

“Yes, queen.”

And he got to work.

It didn’t take long after that, and when you were finally spent and panting and Mat had emptied himself all over his own hand, you pulled him up onto the couch with you. His knees were red and lightly carpet burnt from kneeling before you for so long, but you both knew it was just reciprocation for all the times you had bruised your own knees for him. Your fingers stayed knotted securely in his hair, right where they belonged, the two of you curled together on the couch and he kissed at your neck as your breathing steadied down to a normal pace. “Maty…”

“Hmm?”

You touched his cheeks and lifted his face from your neck to get a good look at him. His cheeks were pink, his eyes averted and soft, and the smile on his face was haloed with your stickiness. Baby’s a messy eater… “Maty, I didn’t know you were into that.”

“I didn’t know either.”

“It’s so hot.”

“Mhmm.”

You leaned in to kiss him, still tasting yourself on his tongue. “I’m glad you admitted how much you liked it. A lot of guys wouldn’t be comfortable saying that, I don’t think.”

“I just like hearing that I make you feel good.”

“You do. So good.”

He sighed against your skin and grinned. “You think this is gonna become a regular thing now?”

"I don't know. I like you being in charge." Mat hummed in response and went back to kissing your neck. "But I like this too. I like calling you a good boy. Cause you are."

"Mmm."

"I like both equally."

"Me too." Mat's lips found your own again, more chaste and sweet this time. "We can do both."

The next time it happened, you planned it out.

There had been a long, tiring game that night, and even after they finally won, Mat still didn’t feel like celebrating. The score had been much to close all night, and when Mat finally got home, all he wanted to do was finally sit down and rest and indulge in his girl.

His queen.

“Hey, pretty baby.” You greeted him with a kiss and led him to the bedroom, dropping your robe to reveal your pretty lingerie set, working him out of his tie and suit jacket as he stared in awe. No words needed to be spoken. It was a common occurrence after tough games for you to take good care of him, he knew what he needed to do, even without your soft words. “Lay down for me, baby. Be a good boy.”

He whined at the words, flopping down on the bed and knowing exactly what was coming.

“C’mon, baby.” You worked him out of his dress pants and shirt, kissing up his thighs and up his abdomen and chest and his neck until you were nibbling at his jawline. “You gonna behave for me tonight, Maty?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, what?”

He moaned.

"C'mon, baby."

“Yes, my queen.”

A hand came up to his hair and his eyes went wide, watching, waiting for your commands. “Good boy. I know you will.” You straddled his now-naked thighs and leaned into his ear, nibbling gently. “ First I need you to get that pretty cock of yours hard for me. Can you do that?”

He whimpered helplessly, grinding himself up against you, only half hard.

“Yeah, I think you can do it.” You took him in your hand, playing with the weight and stroking in just the way you knew he loved. The way you knew would get him hard. He was practically throbbing, aching for need already, and you could feel him grow harder with each passing moment. It was a tender moment, sitting there together in warm silence, listening to Mat’s breaths, and feeling his growing desire for you, just sharing that moment of intimacy. “Maty?”

“Hm?” His eyes opened, gazing up at you in awe.

“You want me to take care of you, baby?"

"Yes, please."

"You gotta earn it first, you know that, right? You gotta deserve it. Wanna eat me out? Make me cum first? Earn your orgasm?”

“Yes, yes!” He was eager to respond, nodding his head quickly and shaking around his hair. “Fuck, I promise I’ll make you cum so good-” he was moving to sit up, so you placed a hand right on his chest and gently pushed him back.

“No, baby, stay here. Lie back and be comfy.” You brushed the hair away from his forehead and crawled up his body, watching his jaw drop as he realized what you meant. Your eyes went cautious for a moment, silently asking if this is alright, but he just opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue for you to sit yourself down onto while you steadied yourself with his hair.

Your throne.

“Go ahead baby, do what you do best.”

And he went right on ahead, his tongue lapping at your aching hole, his hands coming up to hold your thighs in place, his nose pressing against your clit, always eager to please his queen, always eager to show you just how good he was, to remind you just how much he worshipped you. You ground your hips down onto his face, a spark of pleasure erupting from the way his nose hit your sensitive clit, and you reached down to tug on his hair, tilting his face up perfectly against your pussy. “Yes, baby. Like that.”

He groaned from beneath you, unable to form coherent noises, settling for groans and whines that sent vibrations straight through your core. The peaks and dips of his face felt so euphoric between your thighs, you wanted to explore and memorize the terrain, and the way your soft skin slid over the scratchy scruff on his cheeks had your legs trembling. If it weren't for your grip in his dark waves, you would have fallen over.

It wasn’t long before his skilled mouth had you shaking, reaching your limit. You leaned back to let him breathe before you could finish, and caught a glimpse of him beneath you, his eyes dark and wide, his tongue swiping over his lips and cleaning himself of your slick. He wasn’t doing a good job, though, as he was stickied and wet from his chin to his nose, his cheeks red and lips swollen from all the work he’d been doing. Messy baby.

“Well,” You ran your fingers across his forehead, pushing dark curls away from the sweat they were sticking to. “Finish the job, pretty boy.”

“Yes, my queen.”

With his eyes still straining up to yours as his mouth connected with your clit and his finger found your hole, it was only seconds before you spasmed around him, your slickness leaking down all over his face. Mat moaned into your flesh- his cock throbbing at the sight of you coming undone atop of him, at the feeling of your hands yanking his face closer, your pussy throbbing around his two fingers and they dipped in and out and curled just how he knew you loved- and you dripped into his mouth, fully spent and satisfied.

When he could finally form words, he whispered, gazing at you in awe: “How was that?”

“Mmm,” You were still trembling from that hell of an orgasm, sliding down to sit on his chest instead, and Mat almost came at the feeling of your wet against his skin. “Mmmm, Mat. that was so good, So perfect baby.”

“Was I good? Did I earn it?”

“What do you think?” After all of that, you almost forgot what he’d done it for.

“But say it.” His eyes were pleading, wide and bright. “Please.”

“Oh,” You leaned down to give his lips a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Oh, baby, you’re such a good boy for me. Good boy, good boy. Made me cum so good. I think you deserve a treat, don't you?”

"Please, my queen."

It wasn’t long before the words made it into your daily life.

It wasn’t a serious dom and sub role like something out of “Fifty Shades” or some gross preteen-written fanfiction, definitely not, but just a cute little tease that you liked to bring up now and then to fluster him. Mat loved to be reminded of how good he was to you, he loved to know he was doing a good job and that you appreciate him, and you loved to dish it out. If it were any other guy, you wouldn’t do this for them, but Mat just… deserved it so bad. He really did treat you like his queen.

He loved to tease you. Many times, he'd catch you in the mirror before dates and his sneaky hands would find their way down to your ass, and you would scold him and swat those hands away. "Oh, come on, baby. My queen looks so delicious tonight." He’d be gazing at you in the mirror, leaving sloppy kisses all the way up your neck, but you just got your hair perfect, you just applied your makeup perfectly, there was no way you were about to ruin it, especially for such a naughty boy.

"Keep behaving like that and you won't get anything tonight, baby. Bad boys don't get rewards, you know that."

"I'm being bad?" He smirked, sending shivers down your spine.

"So bad."

"Oh, I can get a lot worse."

He'd tease you, alright, but you always found ways to tease him right back.

Like the time you were out with his friends, and one of the wags mentioned "Oh yeah, Y/N definitely runs the show in this relationship." and everyone laughed and cheered about how "Barzy's so whipped!" It was all in good nature, everyone knew how much the two of you loved each other, and all his friends laughed at it, but Mat only shrugged and mumbled something like "Sometimes I’m in charge…”, though you knew he wasn’t afraid to admit to his friends just how much he loved his queen. Not that he’d ever tell them… about that.

“I might be in charge, but Maty here is good at following my orders. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Mat’s eyes widened for a moment as you reached up and curled a hand to cradle the back of his neck and play with the dark curls peeking out of his hat. His cheeks went red at the use of his pet name in front of all these friends.

“Yeah, of course, your majesty.”

The words were spoken sarcastically, and to anyone else, it seemed like playful banter, simply teasing. But both you and Mat- and only the two of you- knew that under the table, something was stirring up in Mat, and when you got home tonight, he was definitely gonna be the one in charge.

You loved the teasing, but sometimes you weren't in the mood for that. Sometimes you were in the mood to be absolutely cherished and catered to. Treated like the queen you are. And luckily, Mat was there, willing and ready to dish it out.

After such a long day at work, all you wanted when you came home was to fall onto the couch and lose yourself in your loving boyfriend. You’d called Mat the moment you got off work, practically begged him to come over to your apartment for the night. Not that it was really begging, because he caved immediately at the thought of spending more time with his girl. But the thoughts of the dishes in the sink, the dinner that needed to be prepared, and how your apartment that looked like an absolute wreck when you left this morning plagued your mind as you took the final steps through the hall to your apartment door.

The second you opened the door, you found yourself encased in big arms.

“Hey, baby.”

“Mat. Ugh, I had the worst day.”

“I can tell.” His lips found your cheeks sweetly, and your eyes took a moment to glance around the room.

“Did you… clean?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back from your hug with a proud smile. “I know when you’re stressed you busy yourself with a lot of work, so if I do everything for you, there’s nothing for you to do tonight but cuddle, right?” You didn’t know what to say. Your jaw had literally dropped, and, if you weren’t so dead tired, you would have jumped him. “I did the dishes, cleaned up a little, got our favorite show on, and I’m one click away from ordering some food if you’re down.”

“Mat, you didn’t need to do all this.”

“Nothing’s too much to do for my queen.”

You smiled at the pet name as you felt the familiar heat curling through your stomach. “Thank you for this. So much, baby.”

“No problem, seriously. I guess I’m just… a good boy, for doing all this?” He said the words with a smile, a suggestion. And you were down.

“Maty, baby. You are. You’re such a good boy. What do you want tonight?”

“Whatever you want. I’m all yours for the night. Do whatever you want. Anything. You deserve it.”

Just those words had heat flooding into your panties, as you remembered what it felt like to have his cheeks scratch against the insides of your thighs.

“Eat me out, baby.”

At your words, he dropped to his knees in front of you.

Woah.

His hands quickly unbuttoned your pants and yanked them down to your ankles along with your panties, and his mouth followed, pressing sloppy, wet kisses down your legs. He hooked one of your knees over his shoulder and nibbled up the soft flesh of your inner thigh, leaving tiny love bites all the way. “Mat, Mat.” He glanced up, his eyes fiery and needy. “Mat, take your clothes off. Wanna see you.”

“Fuck, yes, my queen.”

His shirt fell onto the floor, followed quickly by his sweatpants, and finally his boxers. Just like always, the sight of him had you aching for more, your heat pounding with your heartbeat so hard you swore he could hear it from his position. Seeing him naked, vulnerable, submissive at your feet just… stroked something in you. Your confidence, maybe. Seeing such a big, strong, dominant guy so willing and needy for you, willing to do anything just for a taste, it made you feel so powerful. You controlled his pleasure.

He was already half-hard, gripping himself tightly and giving slow, steady strokes.

“Ah, ah, ah, hands off your cock, baby.” His eyes shot up to yours and his hands flattened on his thighs, cock twitching wildly in the air, straining for you. You knotted your fingers through his locks like always and tugged him in.

And he got to work.

His mouth felt heavenly against your heat, his tongue wide and thick and hot and lapping at you as if he was a starved man and you were the most delicious feast he could ever eat. As if what was dripping for him from between your legs was like honey, was like the food of gods, and he had tried his hardest to prove he was worthy of just a taste, just a breath, just your mere presence. And he was taking his precious time savoring the taste because you were the best flavor he could ever imagine. The sweet taste of your skin, where the perfume lingered as he bit down into your shoulder, the taste of whatever chapstick you put on when you kissed him, and now the intoxicating drip drip drip between your legs.

One of your feet was already flat on his back, so when he lifted your other leg over his shoulder, you hesitated.

He glanced up from between your legs with a smile, cocky and sure of himself. “Don’t think I can hold you up, babe?”

“Can you?”

“Trust me.”

And with your back against the wall, Mat hoisted both your legs onto his shoulders and scooted closer to you, until his face was flush with your heat, your feet flat on his back and your hands in his hair pulling him in. You tossed your head back against the wall as his lips closed around your clit, abusing the bundle of nerves just like you loved.

“Fuuuck, yes. Good boy.”

“Ohhh.” There were the words he craved so bad to hear.

The room was full of wet, sloppy noises, the noises of Mat’s tongue and face against your slickness, but through it all, you heard something else. A familiar sound of steady, rhythmic slapping.

“Mathew!” As much as your body complained, your hands tugged Mat’s face away, looking down at the dizzy, dumbstruck look on his face, his hand frozen on his cock. He’d been caught, and he’d be punished. “Bad, bad boy. Hands off.”

“Fuck.”

Your hand cupped his cheek, dragging a thumb along his bottom lip and swiping away some of your slick. “You don’t like listening to me? You like being a nasty, disobedient boy?”

“No, fuck, I’ll be good.” His hands gripped his thighs tight, trying to calm himself and keep his hands away, his cock red and angry and straining for you.

“Hmm. Maybe I’m being too hard on you. Teasing you like this and not giving you any release. Maybe I need to show you a little mercy. You think you deserve it?” He said nothing, not wanting to seem too needy and instead waiting patiently for your answer. Did he deserve it? He didn’t know yet. It was such a privilege to even be in this position with you. Your hand stroked across his cheek again. “I think you do. Poor baby, let’s put your hands at work somewhere else.”

He quickly got the hint, bringing one hand up to grip your thigh tight and trailing the other all the way up the inside of your thigh and gathering your wetness between his fingers and bringing them to his lips to lick them clean.

He was back at work.

You were a drug, and he was addicted. He couldn’t get enough, he’d do anything to prove himself worthy for just one more taste. One more taste of that glorious honey dripping from your legs. And he’d continue to prove himself time after time because you didn’t deserve anything less than his best. You were his queen, and he worshiped you.

“Oh yeah, yes baby.” He’d found the perfect rhythm in you, the perfect beat to have you shaking and moaning and trembling around his head. His grip on your thigh was the only thing keeping you grounded on earth, otherwise, you would have floated away into the euphoria of how it felt to have his tongue against your clit and his long fingers curling just right and grazing against your g-spot with every movement. You couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning when you’d wake up covered in his fingerprints and lovebites and wear them like little secret trophies. And you couldn’t wait to go about your day with the lingering thought that someone like this awaited you at home to tend to your every need like this. Nobody you talked with throughout the day knew of the little markings of your late-night adventures that were kept hidden away under your clothes. Nobody but Mat. His fingerprints would be embedded in your skin as if your body wanted to remember every crevice of the way he touched you, his teeth would be tattooed on your shoulder, his face and fingers would still taste slightly of you from the night before. His fingers would delicately graze every mark he left, asking if it hurt and asking if it was worth it, smiling and passing compliments and praise back and forth because that’s the kind of love you had. The kind that could go from nasty and wild to soft and delicate, the kind that could be both at once.

“Good, good, good boy. Ohhh, so good for me, baby. You know that? You’re the best. Always treating me so well. Making me feel so good.”

“(Y/N)...”

You swiped your hand over his forehead and brushed his hair away from his sweaty brow, locking eyes in a delicate moment. “Make me cum, baby, please.”

“Of course, my queen.” The words were spoken into soft flesh as he came back for the final stretch, his cock painfully hard and needy for your hand, your mouth, your attention, beading with precum as Mat grinded helplessly at nothing, just looking for any friction. Just a little bit longer, he knew, and he’d get his reward. Just a little bit longer.

He could barely breathe, the further in you pulled him, just surrounded by your scent and your heat and your wetness, but what need did he have for breath when you were gifting him the most valuable thing in existence? Yourself, your heart, the sweet, sweet nectar dripping from your core, the birdsong of moans falling from your lips, the choir of angel’s voices from your lips that cried his name. That was all he needed.

Finally, finally, your grip loosened from his hair and your legs fell limp and weak onto his shoulders. He gave you a moment to breathe, to collect yourself, and rest on him before continuing on. He stood, lifting you with him and helping you settle your feet onto the floor, shaky and off-balance.

“Woah, Maty.”

“Did I do good?”

“Like always, pretty boy.” You tilted your head up to see him finally extended to his full height, once again reminded of how powerful you were to have someone so much bigger than you down on his knees for you. “Good, good boy. Always so amazing for me, so willing, so selfless, so giving. I love you. Mat. You deserve the world for being so good.”

“I love you too.”

“Seriously, thanks for tonight.”

“Mhmm, any day, anything for my queen. Thank you for existing, you fucking goddess.”

“Mmm.” You shared a sweet kiss, dripping with love and adoration and care for one another, your eyes locked together in an intimate embrace before your arms slid from around his shoulder. “Now, baby,” You back him against the wall, slowly dragging your hands down his chest, over the peaks of his nipples and the crevices of his abdomen and bellybutton, and right to where his cock was straining red and angry for attention, dropping to your knees for him. “Lemme make my good boy feel like a king. He deserves it.”

"Oh, baby."

And when you finally took him in your mouth and his hand tightened in your hair, his whines told you that he was the furthest thing from a good boy. "Let me show you how a queen rewards her most loyal subjects..."

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