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buckybabesonly · 1 year

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Nothing Breaks Like A Heart

Summary: You finally confess your feelings to Bucky, hoping he might like you back. He turns you down.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Avenger!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Mentions of heavy drinking, no other significant warnings really without spoiling the plot 🤫

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: If you enjoyed this one, please do leave a comment / feedback / reblog! ❤️

Loving Bucky was like drinking honey. It was warm and comforting, sweet and overwhelming for your senses. You looked forward to seeing his face everyday and adored hearing him laugh, his whole face creasing when he doubled over at something funny you had said.

He had become an unlikely close ally since you joined the team. More than just a colleague. The time you’d spent together in the last year had been a defining period for you, as you had really grown to treasure his presence in your life.

God, the way this man made you feel. You didn’t think you’d ever be lucky enough to meet someone who would make you so happy.

It would be even better if you actually had the gall to tell him how you felt.

Being emotionally vulnerable was difficult. You wanted more, but it was scary. However, you recalled a piece of advice that one of your college professors had told you years ago, wise words which stuck with you. If you never try, the answer will always be no.

You had it set in your mind that you were going to tell him. You were, but maybe not today. You would wait for tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Your inner turmoil was frustrating. You fought androids and aliens and god knows what else, but you were afraid of this?

It could mess everything up, you reasoned. If he didn’t return your feelings, then you would make everything awkward, and maybe you would lose him even as a friend. You didn't know if you could handle that.

Despite this, a tiny hopeful voice in your head told you that Bucky felt the same about you. The way he always looked for a reason to spend time with you, how he shared his deepest secrets with you. The way you always partnered up on missions, and how you always had each other's backs. The way he comforted you when you were sad, allowing you to cry on his chest, soothing fingers stroking your hair.

When you first joined the team, he had been the first one to properly befriend you. Your first encounter was in the kitchen, where you had ended up in the middle of the night after being unable to sleep.

You were shocked to see Bucky propped up on a breakfast stool at the kitchen island, book in hand. You had waved nervously at him, going over to the fridge to get a carton of chocolate milk.

“Can’t sleep?” he grunted. You glanced to see what it was reading, seeing 'The Hobbit' embossed in gold letters across a hardback cover.

“Yeah,” you said softly, tugging down at the hem of your sleep shirt. You hadn’t exchanged many words with him at this point, but he seemed friendly enough. “You want a glass?”

He contemplated for a second before he nodded. “Sure.”

You ended up sitting opposite each other, glasses of chocolate milk in hand.

“How come you’re awake?”

Bucky smiled wryly. “I have trouble sleeping.”

“Nightmares?”

“Something like that.”

You hummed to yourself, taking a sip of the sweet beverage. There was something childish but comforting about chocolate milk - you always used to have it with your mom when you were small.

“How you feeling?” Bucky asked, breaking the silence. “Settling in?”

You nodded, the grip around your glass tightening. “Yeah, kind of. Everyone’s nice.”

Bucky seemed to know that you wanted to say more, silently promoting you with his eyes to continue.

“Everybody seems very tight knit - I guess that makes me a bit nervous? Trying to fit in.” You looked down, chewing on your lower lip. "I've always had a bit of trouble with that."

“I get you,” Bucky said, eyes still observing you. They were the color of cobalt - stunning. “Don’t worry. I think you’ll do just fine.”

That was the first meeting, and since then, you had only grown closer to him. Your mid-night conversations were a frequent occurrence. At least once or twice a week, you’d find each other in the kitchen at ungodly hours. Over time, you had introduced other activities to pass the time - board games, watching TV shows, fun idle gossip. Each time, you were always accompanied by chocolate milk.

“My mom died when I was six,” you had told Bucky during one of your late night rendezvous, half a year into your time with the team. “I don’t have many memories of her, but I remember that whenever I was sick or sad, she would have chocolate milk with me. It always cheered me up.”

You exchanged nuggets of information about each others pasts, and soon, you were sure that Bucky knew enough about you to write your biography. You felt surprisingly fine, opening up to him about anything and everything.

The seasons passed in a flash, and it was suddenly the one year anniversary of your joining the team. You found Bucky in the kitchen once again, at 3AM on a Thursday. You had a smile ready on your face, though your limbs ached. They were littered with bruises and cuts from your latest mission, but seeing him put a bounce in your step.

Bucky was staring down at his phone, the glow illuminating his face in the semi-darkness. It was chiming loudly with notifications, his expression unreadable.

“What’s that?” you asked, making your presence known.

Bucky already had a glass of milk out for you. He placed his phone down, grimacing.

“Sam got me doing this online dating thing,” he said casually. Your smile fell, unable to hide your surprise. “Modern dating is kind of crazy. Women are so much bolder than in the 40s."

Online dating? What?

“I didn’t know you started online dating,” you said, trying to keep your voice light. You didn’t even know Bucky was Iooking to date. You were deflated - any hopes that Bucky returned your crush were promptly dashed. You tried to swallow your disappointment.

“I wasn’t, really,” he said. “I guess it’s not the worst idea, though.”

Damn you, Sam Wilson, you thought.

“You meet women in real life all the time,” you said, taking your usual seat across him. “No one catch your interest?” You played nonchalantly with your fingers, trying not to pick your nails - a nervous habit.

Bucky pursed his lips, eyes landing on you for a moment before he looked at the ceiling.

“Ah, I don’t know.”

“You met anyone nice so far?” you probed, your jealousy spiking.

“Early days,” he responded. He slid his phone across the surface of the island, showing you the dating app he had open. The girls were plentiful, all beautiful and clearly enthusiastic. Bucky’s inbox was full of flirtatious greetings, but you noticed he hadn’t yet responded to a single one.

“Hmm.” You struggled to keep your face neutral. You felt the sinking realization that he must have never thought of you that way. Otherwise, why would he be looking for someone when you were right there?

You couldn't focus properly on the conversation anymore, your mind racing as Bucky moved the topic onto something unrelated.

Fantasising about Bucky had been dangerous. You had spent so much time imagining the day you would finally confess, and he would reciprocate your feelings and you would have the happy relationship you yearned for. Even if you didn’t confess first, you were hoping he would.

Up until now, you had sometimes told yourself that Bucky was just being patient. That he was old-fashioned, so he was taking his time in courting you.

You realized now that you were simply never considered an option.

The next few weeks were torturous. Christmas was fast-approaching, but you were far from being in the festive mood. You had to put on a front with Bucky now, pretend everything was alright and not feel too tempted to ask about the progress of his dating life. Things were tough, and you were feeling unhappier day by day.

You had always known, deep down, that your feelings for him were more than just a crush, and had been for many months. It ached, the feeling of knowing your emotions were not returned.

One horrible part of you wondered why. Were you not sexy enough? Not smart enough? Not charming enough?

Maybe all of the above.

Seeing Bucky nowadays made you ache. You found yourself feeling sad whenever he cracked jokes with you, shared his thoughts with you, when the backs of his hands brushed against yours as you walked side by side.

He would find someone that he actually wanted to be with, to do all that and more. It wasn’t his fault, and you knew he had no idea that you were in so much pain, that he had single handedly eviscerated you.

Tony's Christmas party was a perfect opportunity to drown your sorrows. So cliché. You knew it was a bad idea, but that didn't stop you knocking back drink after drink by the bar, ignoring Natasha's requests to dance. After all, if all the Hollywood rom-coms you had watched were any indication, this was one of the key steps to getting over a guy.

The party was kicking off, and the room was spinning like a ride at a fairground. Your alcohol tolerance had always been low, and now you were paying for your actions. Your skin was burning hot and prickling, and you were struggling to walk straight. Although, this was exactly what you wanted - it was somehow cathartic, purging you of all the pent of frustration inside.

A dark figure appeared in your eye line. Your vision refocused until you realized who it was - your favorite, handsome face was looking very annoyed right now, mouth set in a firm line.

“You’re drunk,” Bucky stated, his voice filled with annoyance.

“Duh.”

“I’m taking you back to your room,” he said, his hand latching around your bicep.

“No,” you said indignantly, jerking away. Your face blanched at the sudden movement. “I don’t feel well."

Bucky rolled his eyes, opting to steer you towards the balcony instead for some fresh air. He shut the French doors behind you, allowing the silent night air to consume you, isolating the two of you from the crowd.

“Sit,” he said, gently helping you down onto a wrought iron bench. “What were you thinking? You know you can’t drink.”

“I know.”

“Something wrong?” Bucky knew that the answer was yes - there was no other reason for you to be drinking unless you were upset or mad.

“I wanted to forget,” you croaked, leaning your head back to get a proper look at him. The sight of him devastated you. He looked so beautiful, so far out of your reach.

“Forget what?”

You stared up at the ink black sky, at the stars. The night air was cool against your burning skin. Everything was quiet, save the sound of his breathing in your ear as he leaned close to you. In that intoxicated moment, you thought you had nothing to lose, forgetting that Bucky was truly your everything.

“How much I love you,” you whispered, tilting your head to look at him through beseeching eyes.

Bucky sucked in a breath of air. His entire stance became rigid at your words. The way you stared at him imploringly confirmed that he hadn’t misheard.

“How long?” He was frowning even as you gave him a trembling, sad smile.

“A long time.”

He raised his hand as if he wanted to touch you, but settled it back down on his thigh. Your face crumpled at his obvious discomfort.

“I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.

Those words alone were enough to make your throat tighten and the needles in your chest multiply ten-fold.

“Tell me you feel the same way,” you said suddenly. It was a plead. You hated how desperate you were in this moment, but you needed him to know how you felt, and you needed to know whether you had a chance. Call it liquid courage, but you felt like you had nothing to lose when you grasped one of his calloused hands in yours.

Bucky was silent for a long time, staring at you with sadness and regret in his eyes. You hated how uncomfortable you must’ve been making him. God, what were you thinking, burdening him with your feelings and putting him in this position? You scolded yourself mentally, feeling nauseous.

Your hand was tight around his, your knuckles white. With every silent second that passed, your fingers loosened, falling limp. His hand was warm, yet you had never felt so cold.

He pulled his hand free, clenching it into a fist.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. Each word was a knife sinking into your chest. The realization hit you suddenly, thick and sour.

You felt bile rise in your throat. You stood up then, the floor shaking beneath you. You almost collapsed.

“Be careful - ”

“Oh god,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

You darted away with surprising speed, wrenching the doors open and hurrying back inside the room. You ignored the sounds of him calling you as you rushed through the crowd, trying to put one foot steadily in front of you and praying you wouldn’t fall.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You held the tears in until you returned to your bedroom, slamming the door shut. You bolted into the en-suite and fell onto your knees in front of the toilet, the acid in your throat finally seeing the surface as you vomited.

Your stomach heaved, emptying yourself of all its contents. But you couldn’t get rid of the horrible, cloying feeling in your gut that came with Bucky’s rejection.

You fell asleep on the bathroom floor, tear tracks on your face and fresh wound in your heart.

You were dreading seeing him the next morning. Thankfully, you arrived in the conference room before he did. The others were there already, gathered around the table. Sam took one look at you and snickered. You were dressed in black, hair in disarray and a pair of large sunglasses on your face.

“Someone had a bit too much fun last night,” he sang.

You grimaced, closing your eyes at the way his voice boomed in your overly sensitive ears. “Stop shouting,” you croaked.

Bucky entered a few minutes later. You kept your head down, refusing to look at him or otherwise acknowledge his presence. To the others, your hostility could be passed off as a result of your clear hangover. But the excruciating humiliation of your confession to him hung between the two of you, making you squirm in your seat.

You didn’t speak for the rest of the meeting, keeping your sunglasses on and staring stoically at Steve as he delivered the mission briefing. As soon as he dismissed the team, you jogged out of the room, but was accosted by Bucky in the hallway.

“Can we talk?” he asked loudly.

You didn’t want to make a scene. You put a fake smile on.

“Sure.” Your eyes were still swollen behind your dark shades as you tried not to let the sight of him bring out any more tears.

He led you into an empty room a few doors down. His face was set like stone, only the slightest crease in his forehead hinting at something akin to distress.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” he said carefully.

“It’s okay.” You winced in discomfort, even just the sound of your own voice bringing you pain. You wondered if he had rehearsed a speech, to let you down easy.

“You should never drink that much again.” His voice was sharp, critical.

“I can take care of myself,” you said, taken aback by his tone.

“It’s not worth it,” he said, his attitude easing up. “I’m not worth it. I don’t want you to feel this way because of me."

You felt your shoulders sag. You felt so tired, defeated.

"I can't control the way I feel," you whispered.

Bucky kept a reasonable distance between the two of you, like he was afraid to go near you now that the pair of you were alone. You wished you could read his mind, know what he was thinking.

His next words were chilling. "You’re my friend, and I care a lot about you.”

The emphasis on the word ‘friend’ didn’t go unnoticed. The way he looked at you was orchestrated, pointed. He was letting you know, in no uncertain terms, what he wanted to say. You were almost grateful that he didn’t directly bring up how you had told him you loved him, as if to save you your last shred of dignity.

He stared at you now with such intensity, the meaning clear in the way he looked at you. We are just friends.

He was doing you a favour. Still, your heart shattered. Your hands were shaking. There it was again - that awful, stinging pain of rejection.

“Okay,” you said faintly.

“I'm sorry if I ever made you think that we could be anything more," he began. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

“Let’s not do this,” you interrupted. If he kept speaking, you felt like you might die. You wished the ground would swallow you up.

Bucky licked his lips but remained silent.

“Please..." You hated how your voice shook. "I would really appreciate it if we could just move on. Let’s not bring this up again. It would really help me.”

Bucky folded his arms tightly across his chest, nodding stiffly.

“Okay.”

You backed away from him, grateful your eyes were hidden. You left the room and didn’t look back.

You managed to act normal around Bucky. Well, semi-normal. The rest of the team didn't even seem to notice anything was amiss - you still spoke to Bucky, managed to look at him as if the very sight didn't break your heart, kept a smile on your face.

But that was in front of them. For anything else which wasn't out of necessity or mission-related, you avoided interacting with him. When you woke up in the middle of the night, you no longer plodded into the kitchen, instead staying in your bed, sobbing and staring at the ceiling.

You no longer laughed and joked with him. You turned your attention to the others instead, talking to Steve and Clint and Natasha and whoever else was there, in a desperate attempt to hide the fact that you were trying to keep it together. You wanted to keep your mind distracted.

It was horrible.

Things would not be the same again, at least not for a little while. You needed time to make yourself get over him.

It was easier, when Bucky returned to the compound one night with a blonde on his arm. She was giggling and clinging onto him, and your heart sank when they stumbled into the elevator just as you were making your way to your floor.

You couldn't have been more shocked at the sight of them. Bucky had red prints all over his cheeks, and her lipstick was smeared. The smell of alcohol was in the air.

"You're not supposed to have civilians in here," was the only thing you managed to say, shock infiltrating your system. The blonde giggled.

"Oops."

Bucky only shrugged, his hand slipping into hers as the elevator rose. Your heart clenched.

He was doing this on purpose. He wanted to show you that he had no interest in you, leave you without any doubts. You didn’t know that Bucky had it in him, to be so cruel. If you weren't trying to hold back your tears, you would've almost felt impressed by his antics. The worst thing was, you truly understood why he was doing this.

You think you may have hated him in that moment.

The elevator doors dinged open, and you stumbled out. Tears began prickling in your eyes, and you were sure Bucky could see.

You didn't say anything as you marched to your room, the elevator doors sliding shut.

You had always been good at pretending. Pretending you were happy when you weren't, pretending you were calm when you were furious, pretending you knew the answer when you didn't.

Bucky saw past a lot of that. He could tell when you were lying, could see when you were holding back. He read you like an open book.

He was important to you, and still would be even if he had rejected your confession and rubbed the presence of another girl in your face. You told yourself that it was a good thing - he was performing a service, encouraging you to move on. Besides, he didn't owe you a thing. He could do whatever he wanted with anyone else.

You couldn't lie convincingly to yourself.

Bucky's birthday rolled around all too quickly. You had it marked in your calendar, though you would've remembered even without the reminder.

Despite your conflicted feelings, you wanted to get him a gift. You had planned the perfect one months ago and had enlisted Bruce's help in finding it. You still wanted to see the look on his face when he opened it.

Bucky roamed the hallways on your floor the morning of his birthday, frowning slightly when your bedroom door opened, Bruce appearing in the frame. He caught a glimpse of where you were perched on your bed, face flushed in mild excitement.

Bucky gave Bruce a smile which may have looked more like a grimace, the latter giving him a polite nod before continuing on. Your door swung inwards, but Bucky stuck a hand between it and the frame, poking his head through.

"What's that all about?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

You shuffled something behind your back. You hadn't spoken to Bucky much as of late, barely acknowledging any of the awkward encounters that had occurred in the past months, instead choosing to face him with a professional-politeness.

"Nothing," you said, not particularly aware of what it would look like to have Bruce emerge from your bedroom.

"Is something going on between you two?" he asked directly. He gave a laugh void of humor, the sound escaping him in a huff. "Do you have a thing for emotionally damaged men?" He gestured to himself with his vibranium arm.

The small smile on your lips fell. Anger simmered in your eyes.

How could he? How could he reduce his feelings for you to nothing and stomp on them like it was trash?

You stood and marched towards him, a wave of fury overcoming you, thrusting a wrapped parcel into his hands.

"He helped me get your present, actually. Happy birthday," you spat, watching as Bucky's mouth fell open silently. You pushed past him, unable to look him in the eyes, feeling your stomach twist.

Bucky remained rooted to the spot, fiddling with the wrapping paper hesitantly before he ripped it open.

It was a first edition copy of 'The Grapes of Wrath', excellent condition. The subject of Bucky's favorite books came up after your first encounter when you saw him reading 'The Hobbit'.

"Is it about angry grapes?" you had asked, confused when Bucky laughed. He promised he would buy it and lend you the book one day.

Bucky's ground his teeth, every cell in his body telling him to go after you. But, for all the reasons he had told himself since the day of your confession, he made himself stay put.

Bucky had missed out on a lot in his life since falling off that train in the Austrian Alps. His whole trajectory had changed, and instead of growing old in his century, he found himself in the 21st, thrust into the modern world and navigating his new life.

He always thought, back in the 40s, that he would meet a nice girl and settle down after the war. He would live in a cozy, tiny home and have three kids, maybe four.

He missed out on that and more - though he had been quite the playboy back in his time, he had never experienced true love. He had never met that one woman he would die for.

Bucky had commented off-hand once on how lucky Steve was to meet Peggy before he went into the ice. Steve had reminisced on that with a bittersweet smile, before telling him, you’ll find your Peggy.

Falling in love with you had blindsided him. At first, he viewed you as a friend, a sweet girl who he grew to trust.

Then, he realized that he was slowly being drawn to you, like magnets he couldn’t pull apart. He realized that everything you did was endearing, that you occupied his thought space all the time, that having you around helped him feel comfortable, safe.

You were young, determined, and so innocent. You were somebody who deserved someone as pure and good as you. You weren’t his Peggy - you were something more, so unique and unapologetically you, and he wanted you as his person so badly.

But you deserved someone good. Somebody like Steve, who stood for the best values and only acted for the good of mankind. Not someone morally-gray and jaded like Bucky.

He wanted someone to spend his life with, for sure. If he couldn’t have his idyllic life in the post-war period, then he still wanted to find a partner in this new, still-unfamiliar time.

You fit that profile. He wanted you.

But he would never forgive himself if he weighed you down with his sins.

When you told him you loved him, his heart had broke. He wanted to tell you how much he valued you, how he dreamed of kissing you. He wanted to be a part of your happy ending.

But how much of a happy ending could he really give you? Could he give you children, knowing they would always be in danger from his enemies? Could he give you a wedded, domestic life, when all he knew was how to fight and cause pain?

He had to make his sacrifice for the greater good. Even if he had to crush you, he had to do it.

Someone like Bucky wasn’t supposed to get happy endings. You were, but just not with him.

You couldn't stand to be around him anymore. It was affecting your concentration, your work. It reached a breaking point two weeks after Bucky's birthday, when you requested to speak to Steve privately.

"You want to leave?" he asked, his face appalled.

You nodded curtly. "You’ll still be able to contact me, if you really need me. But I don't think I can stay here anymore."

Steve didn't look as confused at your profession as you expected.

"Is this about Bucky?"

You cringed. God, did he know about everything that happened?

"I don't know what's going on between the two of you," he clarified quickly, "but I can see that something happened. He's not the same, either."

"I'm not in a good place right now," you admitted shamefully. "I'm not saying that this is goodbye forever, Steve. But for my own sanity, I think I need a break."

Steve heaved a sigh. "I know you wouldn't ask unless you really needed it. And you don't need my permission, you know."

"I know," you said, giving him a small smile. "But I just wanted to let you know that I'll be here whenever the team needs it. Emergencies only," you joked. "But for now I think I'll get out of here. Maybe go upstate."

"Have you told him?"

"Don't need to," you said, defensiveness creeping into your voice.

"I think he would like to know."

“We’re not really on speaking terms,” you said bluntly.

Steve clasped a heavy hand on your shoulder. He knew better than to argue. He was sure you’d figure things out for yourself, anyway. “I’ll miss you.”

Now that you had completed the professional courtesy, you decided that you would leave in a few days. You still had some matters to wrap up, and to say goodbye to your teammates. You loved them, and they deserved a proper farewell.

"This isn't goodbye," Nat had said sternly, pulling you into a tight hug. Her voice was quiet and soft in your ear as she whispered, "If you need me, I'll be there."

You squeezed her tight, threatening to tear up. "Thank you."

"Keep your ass out of trouble," Clint had said, winking at you. “And check in with us now and again, yeah?”

Sam was clearly unhappy about everything. And he definitely noticed that you had picked a day to make your announcement when Bucky was conveniently away from the compound.

"Am I gonna see you again?" he asked, raising his eyebrows after you'd embraced.

"Couldn't get rid of me if you tried," you promised, punching his arm.

You retired to your bedroom that night, sure that Bucky would hear the news later after he came back. You kept your phone switched off and door locked for the rest of the evening, making sure the your belongings were packed.

Just past midnight, you crept out of your room, duffel bag over your shoulder. You made your way through the compound, down the floors into the underground garage. Bucky's motorbike wasn't there - he still hadn't returned.

You were grateful. You climbed into your car, and tossed your belongings in the back. You had to stop thinking about him - if you let yourself do it for too long, you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to go.

With a heavy heart, you left this chapter of your life behind.

Your phone rang for days afterwards. Missed calls, voicemails left unanswered, texts left unread.

You couldn't bear to face him. If you pretended he didn't exist, maybe it would ease the pain.

You didn't know where you were driving to. You simply knew you had to get as far away as possible, clear your head. You were at a crossroads, and you needed to pull yourself together, but for now you would allow yourself to wallow.

You had been spending each night in a different motel. Wake up, drive, sleep. Wake up, drive, sleep. You wanted to put as much distance between yourself and Bucky Barnes as possible.

You had no idea how you had gotten everything so wrong. Did you really misinterpret the signals? Was every intimate moment between the two of you simply platonic?

You didn't want to feel so beat up over a guy, but he wasn't just any guy. He was the first man you had ever loved.

Life was funny, sometimes. You supposed that you couldn't always expect happy endings.

You kicked open the door of the latest motel, a bag of takeout in your hands. You noticed the dark, shadowy figure on your bed in an instant, your hand sliding to the dagger sheathed in your belt on reflex. Before your brain even had time to catch up with what you were seeing, you had aimed and launched it, shocked when a familiar voice rang out.

"Calm down, tiger," he rasped. The bedside light flicked on, and Bucky was suddenly there, twirling your dagger between his fingers. He tossed it to the side, letting it land on the carpet with a soft thud.

A week had passed since you last saw him. Seeing him sent an electrifying jolt straight through your core.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. You were shocked, but your first thought was that something terrible had happened. "Is it the team? Are they in danger?"

Bucky looked irate, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His hands were knotted together, worry hiding beneath his anger.

"I've been calling you for days. You left without saying goodbye. Hell, you left without saying anything." His voice was gruff and accusatory.

That gave you the answer you needed. The team were fine, and he was simply here to rant. You felt the initial shock of his appearance wear off.

He stood up and stepped towards you, and that was when you noticed the state he was in. His usually close shaven beard was slightly unkempt, and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked worn out.

"Yeah," you retorted, "I kind of did that on purpose."

"Why?" His voice was a whisper. "Why would you do that?"

You were exasperated. You did not envision yourself having to explain your decisions to him. His appearance both delighted and depressed you. It was tiring, having these two sides battle each other whenever you saw him. Your love for him versus his heavy rejection.

"I can't be around you anymore," you admitted, your voice tight. "I thought I could, but I can't."

"Why the hell not?" he pressed stubbornly.

"You know why!" you cried out. "Why are you doing this to me, Bucky? I told you I loved you and, okay, you don't love me. Fair enough," you said, frustrated. "But to go out of your way to hurt me? Remind me that I'm nothing more than a friend? Bring other girls back to the compound so you can fuck them?"

Bucky flinched. "I never - "

"No!" you shouted, cutting him off. "You don't get to do this, Bucky." You felt wetness on your cheeks, and realized you were crying. It only made you more exasperated. "You don't get to tear my heart out of my chest and come here when I've been trying to get away from you."

He stormed up to you, hands reaching for you, but you batted him away.

"Don't!" Your hand hit his chest, barely moving him an inch. "Just stop! Please!" Your voice broke, and you shook with tears. The dam had broke, and seeing him here was just too much.

"Please don't cry," he pleaded, his face anguished.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice breaking. "What do you want from me?"

Bucky looked so upset, taking another step forward, but you walked backwards until you hit the door.

"You don't want me," you exclaimed through your tears. You needed him to understand how much pain you were in just by seeing him. "You can't be here, Bucky. I can't look at you and remember how you just don't love me back."

Bucky pulled you into his arms, tightening them when you struggled. He was stronger than you - you had no choice but to become a prisoner against his chest. You were crying as you had many times before in his hold, but this time it felt different. Your heart was pounding and you were aching, wanting to melt into him but also aware of the anger and sadness flaring within you. It was torture.

"It hurts too much," you managed to get out through your wailing sobs.

He didn't say anything until you stilled. He let you cry, your tears soaking through his shirt. Your quiet sniffs and hiccups accompanied his words when he finally spoke.

"You weren't supposed to appear in my life," he said, his voice tense. "You weren't supposed to be so wonderful, so comforting. You made me feel so safe."

You didn't say anything, confusion rendering you temporarily speechless.

"I thought I was fine on my own. I've been a soldier all my life, just focusing on fighting everyone else's battles. And then I met you."

You had no idea where this was going as Bucky's arms seemed to tighten all the more around you.

"It felt...strange, how I wanted to kiss you. How I wanted you there, next to me, all the time.”

You looked up at Bucky, really taking in his exhausted eyes, his chapped lips, the way he was looking at you now with an exquisite softness.

"I felt like I was doing something wrong. I thought - I don't want to - ruin you," he said. "You are so young and have your whole future ahead of you and I didn't want to bring you down with all of me. My history, my demons, my baggage. And I ended up hurting you."

A spark of hope appeared, wanting to ignite into a flame. You expelled a shaky breath.

"Do you love me?" you asked, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he continued to hold you.

He nodded, his words like velvet. "How could I not? Of course I love you."

Of course, he said. But your insecurities prevailed, and you shook your head.

"You did a good job of hiding it," you said sadly.

Bucky closed his eyes regretfully.

"I know. I don't know what I was thinking. I thought if I could push you away, make you fall out of love with me, you would find someone worthy."

"What makes you think you're not worthy?" you retorted.

"Some days, I feel like no amount of good deeds I do can redeem me," he murmured.

"Bucky," you said slowly. "You're one of the best men I've ever known. Your heart is so kind."

"I'm sorry." He grasped one of your hands, brought it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Part of me thought you would shrug, get over it and find someone else."

Your smile was full of sorrow. "Then you have no idea how much you truly mean to me.

Bucky cupped the side of your face. Seeing you in this state had truly been a wake up call for him. When he found out you had left the compound, all his resolve had crumbled. He realized that he had hurt you so deeply that you couldn’t physically be around him. That was when he knew that the connection between the two of you was too rare to let it slip, when he felt an immense pain at the idea of never seeing you again.

Having you in front of him now was heartbreaking. Your eyes were puffy, and you looked tired and so frail. He loved you, and you were supposed to take care of the people you loved. He swore on his life that he would dedicate himself to showing you what you really meant to him.

"When you asked me what I'm doing here," Bucky said, a hopeful smile on his face, "It's to tell you that I love you, so much. And I'm here to take you home."

You nodded, fresh tears filling your eyes, except this time they were borne from happiness.

"Let's go."

He had already packed your belongings for you, you realized when he released you to hoist your bags over his shoulder, which he had placed by the door. He paused, slipping his hand into his pocket and placing a tiny kid-sized carton into your hand. "Almost forgot. For the journey."

Chocolate milk.

You threw your arms around him, jumping to hook your legs around his hips. He dropped your bags as you kissed him, his hands reaching to support your thighs as he returned it with equal passion.

"This room is paid for," you gasped into his mouth. "Let's go back tomorrow."

He was silent when he walked back to fall onto the bed with you on top of him, his mouth never once leaving yours.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky angst #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #bucky oneshot #bucky fanfic

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dandelions4us · 2 months

Text

Party’s Over

Regina George x Reader Summary: Where Regina ends her own party for her cramping lover Words: 1,1k A/N: Is it noticeable I’m having period cramps and need some comfort from the prettiest (and meanest) queen bee of all? I hope not

As the night went on, Y/N couldn’t believe how many more people could crash into her girlfriend’s party. To say the house was full would be an understatement. She sipped on her solo cup, something she could not pinpoint, even if her life depended on it, and searched for Regina with her eyes.

Spotting the blonde head among the croud was easy, though, she could recognize the girl with her eyes closed. She was talking with some people, standing confident in her beautiful maroon dress – it hugged her soft curves perfectly –, her signature smirk adorning her crimson lips and she gently flipped her hair off her shoulder.

Y/N smiled to herself, feeling lucky to have such a wonderful girlfriend. But it faltered quickly as she felt the pressure she knew way too well right at the bottom of her belly. It wasn’t surprising, giving the ache she felt on her lower back since the moment she woke up.

“Fuck.” She mumbles, walking off towards a bathroom to make sure she didn’t just start her period. She didn’t, which was good, as she sighs in relief. Washing her hands and splashing a bit of cold water on her neck, she embraces herself ready to play it cool for a few more hours, not wanting to ruin the party for her girl.

“Hey, I was looking for you. Everything ok?” Regina asks when she finds her, hands gingerly resting or her waist. “Yeah, I’m good. Just went to the bathroom to freshen up a bit.” Y/N smiles, placing her own hands on the blonde’s shoulders.

“Good. Come here, I have a few people I’d like to introduce you.” She responds, kissing her girlfriend quickly before pulling her by the hand to a small group of peers.

To be honest, Y/N did a fairly good job of play pretend for two hours, but it was starting to get to her. The cramps were just getting stronger, making her whole body achy and tense. But she kept her facade as better as she could, not willing to spoil Regina’s fun, knowing she would drop everything to make sure she was fine.

They were now sitting outside by the pool, an array of chairs and couches, talking animatedly with everyone else. I mean, most likely Regina talked and Y/N just agreed and nodded along, smiling every now and then.

When a strong cramp came, she scrunched her face and pressed on the pillow covering her stomach. The blonde must have felt how her body tensed under the hand she had on her girlfriend’s thighs ‘cause she turned her head, a concerned look on her eyes as she looked in hers.

“What’s wrong, baby?” She whispered, her thumb caressing soft shapes where it rested. “It’s nothing, don’t worry.” Y/N tried reassuring, but it wasn’t as convencing as the previous times. Sensing her discomfort, Regina excuses both of them and walks away to a more secluded area, hand now on the small of her partner’s back.

“Wanna try again and tell me what’s bothering you?” She asks softly, looking down with honeyed eyes. Y/N sighs and relents. “It’s just cramps. I have them a few days before my period also. Nothing too bad, I promise.” Right after she ends her sentence, another wave of piercing pain stabs at her womb, making her fold and frown.

“Oh, I can see that.” Her girlfriend says, sarcastically, but sighs, concerned. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve got you some painkillers and a hot water bottle, maybe also put you to bed.” “Thay’s exactly why.” She furrows her eyebrowns, confused. “I didn’t want you to step out of your own party just to take care of me.”

“That’s nonsense. Baby, I would drop everything to take care of you, gladly.” She takes the shorter girl’s cheek on her hands, soft but firm, to prove her point. “You’re my girlfriend and I love you. Of course taking care of you and making sure you’re ok is my priority. Not some silly party that wouldn’t be as joyful if you weren’t with me, ok?”

Y/N couldn’t help but tear up a bit, but she blamed her hormones. “Okay.” She agreed quietly. Regina smiles, leaning in for a brief but passionate kiss, trying to show all of her love and care through it.

“Now, come on, let’s get you upstairs. Somewhere quieter and confier.” And holding hands, they both walk up Regina’s room. She sat her girlfriend in her bed and then rummages through her closet for comfortable clothes she could wear.

“Here, love. Change into these while I go downstairs to grab you some medicine and put an end to the noise.” She hands her the pile of clothes. “You don't have to end the party just because of me, Gina. I can rest just fine.” She frowns. “Don’t be silly. I’m coming back to cuddle you so there’s no reason to keep randos in my house. So stay put, I’ll be right back.”

She leaves, closing the door and Y/N can’t help but smile like a school girl over her affectionate lover. She changes clothes, relaxing breathing Regina’s perfume on them. She also puts a pad on, just in case her period comes while she sleeps – she’d die of embarrassement if she bleeds on her girl’s bed.

The noise disappears quickly, Y/N can hear the commotion of people leaving and a faint voice of her girlfriend shouting. In about ten minutes, she returns, bearing meds, water and snacks.

“I have no idea where my mom put our water bag and my heating pad broke, so I’m sorry.” “Gina, it’s okay! This is more than I could ask for, thank you.” “Only the best for my baby.” She smiles and walks over to the bed, giving her partner a few pills and the water.

The hurting girl drinks half the water bottle and nibs on the snacks so her stomach wouldn’t be so upset because of the meds and alcohol she consumed.

“There you go. You should rest now. I’m sure you'll be feeling better tomorrow.” She fluff the pillows and covers her sweet girl with the thick duvet before climbing in bed herself (now in her sleep attire).

She scooches closer, tangling their legs as she holds her tight against her chest, kissing her head lovingly.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me, Gina.” Y/N whispers, face nuzzling oh the blonde’s neck. “Of course, baby. You don’t even have to thank me. I’d do it over and over again, just for you.” She responds, one hand scratching her girlfriend’s scalp while the other held her as close as possible.

“I love you.” Y/N says, feeling relaxed, loved and safe. “I love you, too, princess. Sleep tight, I’ll be here when you wake up.” Regina whispers, kissing her temple tenderly.

And just like that, they both fell asleep in each other’s arms, secured in a cocoon built with pure love and care.

A/N: I had to take matters into my own hands. I could not go any longer without more fanfictions of my favorite blonde. Hope you guys liked it! <3

#regina george x reader #regina george x fem!reader #regina george x you #regina george #mean girls #mean girls the movie #mean girls the musical #mean girls 2024 #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp x you #renee rapp #reneé rapp x reader #reneé rapp

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ot8archivesblog · 3 months

Text

Party

꒰ ͜͡➸ Pairing: Minho x Female Reader

꒰ ͜͡➸ Genre: College AU, Smut

꒰ ͜͡➸ Warnings: (Obviously) NSFW content, alcohol, mentions of drugs, cigarettes, smoking, drinking, explicit content, overstimulation, fingering, pet names, praise (like good girl)

꒰ ͜͡➸ w/c: 3,5k

꒰ ͜͡➸Masterlist

So I read this request a day ago and thought of it as really interesting because I'm currently writing a story which is similar to that, so I wanted to give this specific scenario a go.

You haven't mentioned which Gender the Reader should have, so because of the roommate being female (and as far as I know there are no mixed rooms) I will assume that the Reader is female as well.

This is actually my first attempt to write NSFW so I hope it'll be good and let me know how you think of it.

Have fun <3

(Not proof read because it's 1 am and I was too lazy so please excuse any mistakes <3)

Request by @the-unknown-daisy

Your bag hit the ground the moment you finally closed the door to your dorm room.

Your best friend was currently sitting on her bed, painting her nails, while you let yourself fall onto your bed.

"Everything okay?" She turned her head to you for a second, taking in the little ball you had curled into, before she went back to concentrating on the task ahead.

She knew you had been like this for a few weeks now and she didn't know what was bothering you.

You normally always talked with her about stuff like that, but this time you decided against it. Exam stress was getting to you and you felt as if you weren't doing enough, but it felt stupid to voice it like that.

You knew she would understand and support you, but you still didn't confide in her.

She had been so happy these past few weeks, always meeting up with Changbin and spending time with him, that you didn't want to spoil her mood with yours.

Changbin is a really nice guy and he was making her so happy, sometimes you envied her.

Of course you wished them nothing but happiness, but it often happened, that when you saw them interact, you wished to be able to have someone like that in your life too.

You weren't lucky with boys though. All your relationships had ended on a bad note and you were just annoyed by it at this point.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you getting ready for something?" Stupid question. It's Friday. There would obviously be a campus party somewhere.

Students could barely contain their desire to drink and party all week, of course no one would miss the weekend parties.

Normally you would go as well, not as often as your best friend, but also quite often. However you didn't really feel like it the past few weeks and you didn't want to drag anyone down with you.

"Yep, the party is at Changbin's dorm this time. I would have either spend the night with him or at a party anyway so it's pretty convenient." Your best friend answered, while she finally closed the bottle of nail polish.

"You're coming with me, by the way." She nonchalantly added, as she blew on her nails.

"Wait, what? When did I say yes to this plan of yours?" You tilted your head, confusion taking over your features.

Had you promised to go?

"Well you didn't. But I told Changbin I would bring you along. You've been quite down these past few weeks and I wanna cheer you up." She got up from her bed and went over to yours, sitting down next to you.

"Plus you know Changbin's roommate?" Of course you did. Who didn't know him.

"You mean Lee Minho?" Her face lit up at that.

"Exactly! Isn't that enough reason to come? He'll be hanging out with Changbin, I'll be hanging out with Changbin and you'll be hanging out with me." She beamed at you and you could only sigh.

Of course, like everyone, you thought that Minho was very attractive. Hell, their entire group of friends was. But you still felt rather down and meeting someone like him in this condition, wasn't going to get you any plus points with him.

You turned to your friend to tell her that you didn't want to come, when you noticed her smiling down at her phone.

"I'm Telling Changbin you're coming! He missed having you around too." At that point you couldn't say no any longer.

She was being so happy over the fact that you could spend the night together, that you didn't want to let her down again.

"Fine, I'll come."

The last few hours had been spend with getting ready and by now, you were already tired.

You didn't know how you'd get through the night, but your best friend was convinced that if you looked hot, you would certainly feel hot and she wasn't wrong.

You did actually feel better, if you didn't think about the tiredness seeping into your bones. An energy drink would fix that.

Your best friend was wearing a pretty white top, that stopped right above her belly-button and a short pinks skirt with high heels.

Her makeup was close to that, but not too much pink.

While you were wearing tight black jeans and a black top that had only one sleeve and also stopped right above your belly-button. However it was also V-formed, showing more of your cleavage than your besties top did.

The dorm wasn't too far so you made your way over there, slowly strolling through the night, which was immediately illuminated by the party lights.

The music was already at full power and you could nearly hear it on the entire campus.

Professors thankfully never minded, so they could keep doing their little parties.

You followed your friend, never letting go of her hand as she lead you inside the dorm, finally meeting up with Changbin.

"Hey baby, you're here." He pulled her closer by her waist and planted a soft kiss onto her lips, which probably would have turned more passionate if you hadn't been standing next to them.

"Hey there little one, I missed you." The taller male greeted you by ruffling your hair up.

"Missed you too." You replied while your eyes scanned the room.

It was already extremely full and it was only 11 pm. You didn't want to know how full it could get.

You had been to quite a few parties but you were always amazed how many people actually fit into these dorms.

They weren't small but they weren't exactly big either.

Changbin had been playing beer pong with some guys until we had interrupted him. So he resumed in doing so, while one of his arms was securely wrapped around your friends waist.

"Binnie." Your best friend whined and he chuckled.

"Sorry guys, finish without me." He turned to her and kissed her, before leading you two away.

"Minho just wrote me telling me he's on his way back with Chan." Changbin commented as he made his way through the crowd and into the kitchen, offering us something to drink.

"Where did they go?"

"They went to get the others. Jeongin was at his parents for a few hours and Chan and Minho went to get him." The older answered, while giving us two glasses.

Not even seconds after he had given them to us, the crowd outside got louder.

"Seems like they're back." Changbin chuckled and went to meet up with them. We followed him closely.

"Hey, look who is finally out of her prison." Chan joked as he side-hugged you.

You had become friends with most of them after your best friend started dating Changbin so this was pretty normal behaviour.

"Sorry, sorry, didn't know I was missed so much." You chuckled as you leaned into Chan's side, when your eyes found Minho's.

You never knew what he was thinking. Could never figure him out. He was a mystery to you and many others.

Chan left first, going to greet some friends while Changbin, Minho, your friend and you made your way to the terrace to get some air.

A lot of people were out here as well but you all sat down on the couch.

"Let's play a game." Someone suggested and everyone agreed on truth or dare. The typical party game that everyone loved to participate in when their brains were non-functional.

You were sipping on your drink while the game commenced.

Till now you had been playing it safe, mostly taking truth, as you knew not many would pick up on it due to being drunk. However someone did pick up on it.

"Three time in a row. You have to pick dare." Minho said as he leaned back on the couch, his eyes fixed on you.

It had been Changbin who had spun the bottle, so why was he interfering?

You said but complied, picking dare this time, which made Changbin grin.

"Kiss Minho."

You were left speechless for a moment. Of course you knew how the game worked, but you hadn't expected this from Changbin. He always went easy on you, which is why you hadn't really been worried when the bottle picked you.

"What, never kissed anyone? I won't bite unless you want me to." Minho commented, a smirk finding its way onto his lips.

You got up from your place, walking over to Minho.

People were sitting next to him so you couldn't do so to kiss him. While you were still contemplating what to do, his hand found your waist and pulled you onto his lap.

"Not so shy." How could you not be, when you were about to kiss the Lee Minho?

Your thighs were on either side of him, as his hands still kept a steady grip on your waist. You leaned in closer, stopping right before your lips could touch his.

At this point both of your eyes were fixed on the others lips and you could feel his smirk on yours.

"What are you waiting for, Princess?"

That's all it took for you to connect your lips.

The kiss was slow at first. Your lips still finding the perfect rhythm to move against each other. However, it didn't take long before the kiss got more heated. He bit your lower lip, asking for entrance which you immediately complied with.

His tongue found its way into your space, exploring your mouth while you tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

It didn't take long for his tongue to find yours, his hands moving up and down your waist at this point while you could feel that you were sitting atop his member, as he got hard.

Your hands found their way into his hair, holding onto him as you moved your hips for a second, making him bite your tongue at the movement which made you gasp in return.

You both parted from each other, a delicate string of saliva still connecting your lips to each other, as you tried to breathe in as much air as possible. This being the only reason you parted in the first place.

The game had commenced while you two had been shamelessly making out and you finally realised that you two weren't alone.

You immediately got off his lap and went back to your place, however your lips were still burning with the feeling of his on them.

The game got boring soon and most disappeared back inside, including Changbin and your friend, while you were now sitting next to Minho, still outside.

He was smoking a cigarette right now, accompanying it with a glass of vodka.

You never really smiled but at this point and the level of drunk you currently were at, you were curious.

"Let me try."

Minho turned his eyes to you, the cigarette still on his lips. He seemed to contemplate it for a moment, until a smirk formed on his lips.

"Sure, but allow me to try something." You didn't really mind. He is Changbin's friend so you trusted him as well.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette, before his long fingers found their way onto your chin, pulling you closer without a word. They put slight pressure on your chin, which made you part your lips and you immediately understood, parting them a little more.

He came closer to you, your nose nearly touching his as he leaned his head to the side, to blow the smoke inside of your mouth. You inhaled, but he didn't give you a lot of time to think as his lips smashed onto your again.

The smoke not being the only thing that went into your mouth as his tongue followed suit. You held onto his shirt, returning the kiss while his hands found their way to your ass, squeezing them for a second before he lifted you onto his lap by your waist.

You immediately adjusted to the situation, sitting up slightly. Your hands finding his neck as you returned the kiss. Your tongue finding his, the fight for dominance not taking long as Minho immediately won it.

You both parted again, out of breathe. It was way too hot between you two. And you both wanted nothing more than to taste the other.

Without a word he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his torso as he carried you to his room.

His room was a no-go zone at parties like these. Everyone knew that. The moment he entered you noticed that the room was empty. He closed the door behind you two, locking it before he resumed his way to his bed, letting you fall on it.

Minho didn't wait for another second, his lips were on your neck this time, as his hands found your waist again. His lips were leaving butterfly kisses all over your neck before he finally found a spot he was satisfied with.

His lips latched onto the soft skin and he sucked on it. Gaining a sweet moan from your lips. He grinned, finally letting go of the skin, admiring the dark hickey that was forming.

"You're okay with this, right?" He asked, just to be completely sure, before you two went any further.

Your nod was more than clear, however that wasn't enough for Minho.

"I need your words, Princess." Those words went straight to your core and it needed a lot of self-control to not cum untouched.

"Yes, please." You didn't need to tell him twice. He removed your shirt from you, his hands immediately unclasping your bra as well as his lips found their way onto your chest.

Soft butterfly kisses littered it at first, before his mouth found one of your nipples catching them between his teeth. At first he softly licked it, watching goosebumps erupt all over your skin before he softly bit it, again pulling a moan out of your throat.

Your sweet sounds were going straight to his member but he tried to control his desires, wanting to prep you enough for him.

You could feel yourself getting wet and it only got worse the more he continued. You needed to feel him inside of you, but you could barely form thoughts, let alone words. Everything felt so good for your touch starved body. And it didn't help that Minho was so perfect at everything he did.

He stopped torturing your breasts, continuing his journey down, a soft kiss on your belly-button and you felt his teeth on the hem of your pants. His hands skilfully opened them before he pulled them down and threw them away.

Just as he had done with your shirt and bra.

"Already so wet for me. What a good little, Kitten." A whimper escaped your lips the moment you felt his hand on your inner thigh, moving closer to your heated core.

"Minho." You managed to moan but the boy only smirked as he moved your drenched panties aside to let one finger graze your folds. He was only rubbing them slowly, but this was enough for you to arch your back already. His fingers felt so good, you could barely wait for them to finally enter you.

"You want me so bad?" He looked up at you as you nodded as much as you could. "I will need your words, Princess."

"Yes, please Minho-..." A moan escaped your lips as his finger entered you. Your hands found the blanket behind you, as you had nothing else to hold onto.

He moved his finger slowly at first but the moment he felt you losing your mind his pace picked up, hitting all the right places.

You were so close to your release when you felt a second finger entering you. You pushed your head into the mattress, trying to ground your thoughts but everything felt so hot. You could barely wait any longer.

"I'm so close." You whined which only made him pick up his pace.

"The cum for me, Princess." Seconds passed after his sentence before your orgasm came crashing down on you. He helped you ride it out until he pulled out his fingers, licking them clean.

"you taste so good." He chuckled.

"You made such a mess, only because of my fingers?" You blushed. "Let's see what a mess you'll make for more." He knew he prepped her enough so he finally got rid of his clothes as well, letting his member finally out of its confinement and you understood why he had to prep you so good.

His member was a sight to behold and you could feel yourself getting wet again only at the sight of it.

He got on top of you, pulling a condom out of his drawer before you stopped him.

"It's fine, I'm on birth control." You needed to feel him inside of you, without a condom.

"Are you sure?" He asked, wanting to be completely sure that you were okay with this.

"Yes."

He threw the pack of condoms away, not wanting to waste another second on them before he connected his lips with yours again.

The kiss was as messy as the first ones but this time you could feel him positioning himself at your entrance.

He broke the kiss, his eyes finding yours. Analysing if there was any doubt before he pushed the tip in slowly.

Your warm walls immediately welcoming him.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He moaned as he slowly kept pushing his member deeper. You were holding onto him, your nails surely leaving marks on his back as your back softly arched. You needed him inside of you, all of him.

He finally bottomed in, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before he pulled out nearly completely only to push it inside a little more forcefully this time.

His groan and your moan mixed as he kept a fixed pace. Your back arched as his member hit your sweet spot every time he pushed it back inside of you. His hands holding your hips so that he could burry himself as deep as possible.

You felt so good around him, your pussy clenching around him as you felt yourself getting closer.

One of his hands moved to your clit, softly rubbing it as he thrust into you, making you scream his name out in pleasure.

You were happy it was so nosy outside, or everyone would have probably heard you two. It was impossible to contain your moans.

"I'm close." He notified, hid hold on your waist tightening.

"Please come inside." You moaned, wanting to feel the warmth of his cum inside of you, to fill you up with it.

"You you want me to fill you up with my cum?" You didn't have to look at him to see the grin.

"Such a needy, whiny brat. If I had known this we would have done this earlier. So good for me. You better take it all. Every drop." He chuckled as his thrusts got sloppier and harder.

You were close, your pussy clenching around his member which made him groan.

"Clenching so good around me, such a good girl."

This only threw you over the edge, your pussy clenching around him as you arched your back, your orgasm hitting you like a truck for the second time.

He helped you ride it out, his thrusts not faltering as his pace only picked up, indicating that he was getting closer to his release.

You felt overstimulated, your pussy was burning as you tried to match him but there was no need, as he came only a few moments after you had.

His hot cum filling your walls as he held your hips still to push his member as deep inside of you as he could.

His back was arched as he threw his head back, your pussy so tight around him that it felt as if it was squeezing every drop out of his members.

"So greedy." He chuckled as he pulled out, admiring the mess you two had made.

"I told you to take it all, Princess."

He teased as he noticed some of his cum sliding out of your hole, only to push int inside with his finger again, making you moan in the process.

Your clit was extremely sensitive and every touch felt burning hot.

"Min, mhh." His eyes focused back on your fucked out state and he grinned, pulling his finger out of you and in front of your lips.

"Taste our mess." You immediately parted your lips taking his fingers into your mouth and licking them clean.

"What an obedient Kitten."

You were exhausted at this point, hoping that he wouldn't make you leave now, but it seemed as if he had no intention to do so.

He pulled you closer to him, covering you both with a blanket.

"Rest for now, let's clean this mess up later." A soft kiss was placed onto the back of your neck as you back was pressed to his chest, his hands secured around your torso.

It didn't take long for your eyes to shut and for you to fall asleep next to him.

No one had ever made you feel as good as Minho had, and you were certainly hoping this wasn't the first and last time you did this.

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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months

Text

The Last Ride Chapter Five (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

series masterlist

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

contains: drinking, arguing, insecurity, 3.6k words

a/n: holy shit so many words. what the fuck

“Okay, okay, I got one. Lucky Charms or Frosted Flakes?” A familiar voice asks.

The soft breeze that fluctuates throughout the air sifts through the boy's hair softly, the sun beating down only furthering the color in his eyes.

This was always my favorite weather, not too overwhelmingly hot and stagnant, but also not a windy mess of a day—Just calm.

I scoff jokingly as I come around the fence, my demeanor more relaxed than it usually is on the ranch. “Frosted Flakes, duh. What do you take me for?”

Chris smiles and gives me a raised brow look, almost mocking me in a sense as he speaks. “Yeah okay, little Ms. ‘I like my eggs poached’.”

“Hey! Not everybody can scramble them hard like Birdie.” I say in defense, pulling myself up to perch on the ledge he’s leaning against.

He rolls his eyes and glances around at the ranch, probably counting off our tasks to make sure we haven’t missed anything. As he thinks, his body shifts closer to mine, his arm brushing my thigh and setting off sparks throughout my body.

It’s just Chris, just annoying egotistical Chris who happened to place his hand on my thigh, and I happened to like it more than I'd care to admit.

In the couple weeks since my birthday, we’ve fallen into something of a friendship. The teasing is still persistent, but it’s a lot less serious. There’s something new between us, something that feels like understanding but also seems a bit more tender.

Chris turns back to me, smiling brightly. “Well, I think it’s ‘bout time we call it a wrap, huh Scotch?”

He pushes off the fence and comes to stand in front of me, placing a hand on my hip and guiding me off of the ledge. Heat floods my skin at the casual touch and multiplies when he doesn’t immediately pull away once I’m on the ground. The moment holds for a second as our eyes lock; his thumb resting on the tiny patch of skin right above where my shorts end and my shirt begins.

When the moment ends, I expect him to do what he always does and deflect but this time he doesn’t. He just gently pulls away and smiles at me, as if finally acknowledging this dynamic between us.

We walk back to the truck to meet up with Uncle Buck, Chris growing a bit unusually quiet, nothing but the sound of our shoes on the dirt and the occasional rock getting kicked to the side. I reach over and gently push his shoulder in question and he meets my eye. He stops walking and I follow his slowed pace, now turning to stand in front of him. “What’s up?”

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks, visibly cringing at himself as he asks and I can’t help but smile at his new sense of awkwardness. “I just mean like, do you want to get out of the house?”

“Depends on what you have in mind.” I lie, nodding my head up slightly knowing damn well I’d go anywhere he wanted at this point. But, Chris doesn’t seem to know this, shifting the feet in his cowboy boots like he’s nervous, like I make him nervous.

“My friends and I usually meet up at Hank’s on Friday nights. It’s pretty fun, I think.” He says, looking over my shoulder and moving around his toothpick that rests in his teeth.

“Who’s Hank?” I ask, a bit concerned with the idea of going to a stranger's house for a first hangout. But, Chris just laughs, breaking the tension with a sound I'm more than happy to hear exit his lips.

“It’s a honky-tonk, girl.”

“Oh,” I think for a second, racking my brain to attempt to figure out what the hell a honky-tonk is. “Still lost, bud.”

He rolls his eyes, a proud smirk growing on his face. “Ain’t you ever seen the Hannah Montana movie?”

My jaw drops and I blink at him rapidly, processing the new ammo he just gave me for free. “Holy shit.”

“Alright, don’t start-”

“Pop it, lock it, polka dot it, countrify, then hip-hop it-” I sing obnoxiously as I slide around in front of him doing the dance.

His tongue glides over his front teeth, hiding the smile that so desperately wants to come out. “You know what? Stay home. You ain’t invited anymore.”

“Want me to do The Climb next?”

Chris shakes his head and steps around me, a small smile playing on his lips as he begins to walk towards the truck again. “Shut up. It’s a country bar. You coming or not?”

I sigh dramatically as I catch up to him, cocking my head to the side. “Way to make a girl feel special. ‘You coming or nah.” I mock.

He reaches out and grabs my elbow, tugging me to a stop. “Please come.”

I fight every urge to stop fully in my tracks at his words, the sudden affection catching me completely off guard. “Wouldn’t want a city girl like me ruining your fun with the boys” I tease, mocking his Southern accent.

He doesn’t reply, instead just staring down at me with a look of seriousness that I have yet to see through his eyes. “I’m kidding, I'd love to go,” I say, suddenly feeling smaller under his gaze.

He gives me a bright smile, the sun hitting just right to light his entire face up as relief sets into his shoulders. And just like that, I’m a goner.

*********************************************************

Aunt Birdie sits on the edge of my bed, watching as I sort through every piece of clothing I brought to Louisiana. I’ve been trying to put an outfit together for an hour but nothing is working. Everything is either too LA or meant to be work clothes only. I don’t want his friends to think I’m bougie but I’d rather die than wear overalls off of this ranch.

“So…” My aunt starts, trying and failing to sound casual as she kicks her feet gently. “Chris, huh?”

I toss her a look over my shoulder, immediately stiffening up. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

“Oh, sure, bunny.” She answers with a knowing smirk. “Just friends.”

I sigh and stand from the floor in defeat before falling backwards onto my bed letting out yet another breath. This is impossible. “I’m not going.”

“The hell you ain’t!” She exclaims, hopping up and walking over to my closet with a new sense of urgency. “What’s wrong with this one?”

She pulls out a red, simple dress that I don’t even remember packing and holds it against her body, looking down at it with a confused expression. I tap my finger against my chin as I think but then throw my head back in frustration. “I don’t know. Just tell me what country girls wear, please.”

Birdie frowns and lowers the dress, coming back over to the bed to sit beside me. She taps my leg so I will sit up and look at her. “Is that what all this is about?”

Not wanting to admit how insecure I’m actually feeling, I say nothing for a second and then shrug as a familiar pit digs deeper into my stomach. “I just don’t want to stand out.”

It sounds pathetic, I feel pathetic, but the last thing I need is to look like some prissy LA girl that Chris dragged along. I just want to be liked.

My aunt laughs and places her palm to my face, cupping my jaw delicately. “Hate to tell you this darling but you’d stand out if you were a grain of sand at the beach.”

I groan, dropping my head onto her shoulder in full defeat. “Great.”

“Just be you, my love. If Chris wanted one of these little country chickenheads, then why did he go looking for you?” She insists, handing me the red fabric and standing.

Giving her a small smile, I take the dress and head to the bathroom, stopping on the way to grab my cowboy boots. It’s about time I give them a try.

The mirror and I aren’t friends in any capacity. My hands smooth over the dress, my mind still fighting every urge to text Chris and say I can’t go, but I don’t let myself, instead taking in a breath of air and letting it leave my lungs.

A smile replaces my once sad face. I'm going to a bar with a cute boy, and I'm excited about it.

Once I’m ready, I check my phone expecting to see a text from Chris saying he’s on the way but there are no notifications. I scrunch my face up but head to the living room to wait, the sight of him waiting on the couch taking me by surprise.

“How long ago did you get here?” I ask in confusion, looking over to where my uncle and aunt sit.

“Not long. Just an hour and a half.” He looks down dramatically.

“Chris! Why didn’t you-”

“I’m joking. Like ten minutes. You ready?” He says, standing with a smile on his face and dusting off his blue jeans.

“Why didn’t you just wait in the car and text me or something?” I ask as I walk over to meet him at the door.

Three pairs of eyes stare at me as if I’ve lost my mind, Chris’ holding genuine offense. “What?” I question defensively, my gaze shifting between the eyes on me as my eyebrows furrow together.

“Man, those city boys ain’t worth a damn.” He mutters as he holds the door open, waiting for me to walk first and following behind shortly.

I’m still a bit confused but I shake it off as I climb into his truck. To my surprise, it’s spotless like he’s just gotten it detailed and I look over at him when he gets in. “Why is your car so clean?”

The smell of cleaning materials and an air freshener overtakes any other sense.

Tossing an arm over my headrest to reverse, he kisses his teeth and shakes his head. “Can’t ever win with you huh? If it’s messy, you talk shit. If it’s clean, you talk shit.”

“I’m just saying.” I laugh, trying not to focus on how close his face is to mine. “Last time I got in here, it was a biohazard.”

“Last time, I wasn’t tryin’ to impress you.” He replies, sending my heart into overdrive. I can’t even think of a witty response so I just lean back in my seat, biting my lip to hide a smile.

Chris reaches forward and turns up his music, melodic rap music flooding the car, and then leans back. He places his elbow on the center console, his palm facing up, and I can’t help but stare at his hand, wishing he’d reach over and take mine.

Something takes over me and in a surge of confidence, I lace our fingers together, turning and looking out the window so I don’t have to see his reaction. He seems to tense up for a second so I let his hand go and move to pull mine away, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he intertwines our hands again, smoothing his thumb against the back of mine, and doesn’t let go until we pull into the parking lot.

Chris jogs around the car and opens my door, extending his hand to help me out of his tall truck. When I’m on the ground, he takes a step back and trails his eyes over me. “You’re wearing the boots.” He comments quietly, taking my hand again and leaning us towards the bar.

“For the first time,” I say looking down at them with a smile. “Hope I styled them right.”

He looks over at me again, his easy smirk pulling back up to his face. “You styled them right.”

I sigh at the way he always talks in circles instead of giving direct compliments, trying to push away how it reminds me of Jace. But he notices and squeezes my hand so I’ll look up at him. “You’re gorgeous, Scotch. Everyday. But especially in those boots.”

Thankfully, he swings the door open to Hank’s before I can melt into a puddle on the sidewalk and we head inside. He spots his friends and starts toward them, tugging me behind him.

Hanks was definitely unlike any other bar I’ve been to, a more laid-back, old-fashioned vibe as a crowd of cowboys overtakes the open space.

As much as I can love parties, the pit in my stomach before entering them never goes away.

A couple of the boys whoop out Chris’ name when they notice him and he chuckles, pulling back his free hand to dap them up. I stand awkwardly behind him, preparing myself for the moment when he’ll drop my hand now that we’re with his friends. But it never comes.

Instead, he pulls me to his side and introduces me with a smile. It’s a pretty big group, four girls and five boys, and they’ve pushed two tables together to make room for all of them. They all give me a friendly smile as Chris rattles off their names; a wasted effort since I’ll never remember them all.

“Y/N?” One of the girls says and I squint at her in confusion before recognition hits. “Hi, Abby!” I answer, relieved to know at least one other person besides Chris.

The girl next to her, Kayla, tosses Abby an annoyed look and scrunches up her nose. “How do you know her?”

I listen as Abby explains how we met in her store as Chris leads me to the chair across from her and pulls it out for me.

One of the boys, Jason, who I remember Chris describing as his best friend, leans across the table giving me a mischievous smirk. “So you’re the girl haunting our group chat, huh?”

Tossing a look at Chris as he settles next to me, I smile and shake my head. “I don’t think so. Your boy here hates me.”

Jason laughs and opens his mouth to say something but Chris cuts in quickly. “What’s everybody drinking? I’ll get a round.”

Everyone shrugs and says they’re good with whatever but their eyes all seem to settle on me as if I’ll need a special order. I roll my eyes, agreeing softly that anything is fine.

Chris heads off to the bar and the boys turn back to each other starting up a conversation about sports. Kayla stares me down, flipping her jet-black hair over her shoulder, and I narrow my eyes back.

“What were you from again, Amber?” She asks sweetly, feigning innocence.

“Y/N.” One of the other girls corrects, but they lower their eyes to the table when Kayla glares at them. She turns back to me, poking her lip out in a forced pout. “Oops, sorry. That’s right. That was Chris’ last hoe of the week.”

I smile widely, knowing she thought that would really get me. “Interesting. Which week were you?” I ask, adopting her sickly sweet tone.

This is a game I've played before, and I've won it in the past.

The table goes quiet as she sneers at me before Jason barks out a laugh and Abby fights back a smile.

“Don’t be bitter, Kayla baby. You know I’m still single.” He says as he slings an arm over her shoulders. She turns to him and sniffles before knocking his arm off. “Shut up, Jay.”

I strike up a conversation with Abby and the other two girls about their shoes until Chris finally returns with the drinks.

He sets the tray in the middle of the table before he comes back to his seat and leans in to whisper in my ear. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to. Hank only serves us the real cheap shit.”

I pull back and give him a look of disbelief. “You think I’ve never had cheap vodka?”

Kayla snorts across the table and I glance over at her, starting to get annoyed with her attitude. “What’s cheap to you? Forty dollars? Please. You’re strung up tighter than a corset.”

“You got an issue?” Chris asks, leaning forward and staring at her until she sits back. I place a hand on his arm and smile, shrugging my shoulders. “It’s fine. Wanna see a party trick I learned?” I ask the table.

When they agree, I lean forward and pick up a shot glass with my mouth, tilting my head back and rotating it with my tongue until the liquid splashes down my throat. When it’s gone, I lower the glass back to the table, all the while keeping my arms at my sides. “No hands.” I sing, giggling a bit when the table starts to whoop and cheer for me.

“Alright, that was kinda cool, Scotch, I’ll give you that. But can you do this?” Chris says, grabbing a glass of Guinness from the tray and chugging it down until he splits the G.

I smile at him and shrug. “Maybe not but mine was more impressive.” I tease as he wipes his mouth.

“You’re right, it was. Teach me how to do it.” He says, reaching down and grabbing the base of my chair to slide me closer to him.

*********************************************************

“So you actually want to try not to hit the white ball into the pocket,” I call out with a grin. “I don’t know if you knew that or not.”

“Oh yeah. Thanks. That was real helpful.” Chris yells back sarcastically as he digs out the ball.

I’m sitting on a decently comfy chair in the back of the bar watching Chris get obliterated in pool. The rest of the girls went to join line dancing, something I was definitely not ready for, so I decided to stay back.

Jason sinks the 8 ball into the pocket, grinning and holds his hand out for payment.

“No way you’re not cheating,” Chris says as he slaps a twenty into his friend’s palm. He sighs and comes back over to me, bracing a hand on either arm of the chair and leaning down. “And you. Ain’t you supposed to be my good luck charm or something?”

I shrug noncommittally. “I tried. I can only do so much.”

“Is that right?” He says laughing as he reaches down and grabs my sides causing me to squirm. God, I regret the day I ever let him find out I was ticklish.

Someone calls Chris’ name and he turns, saving me from my torture. “Hank the man!”

A man who looks about my dad’s age steps around and gives us both a wide smile. He’s got kind eyes and the type of receding hairline that just makes me want to trust him.

“What’s going on with you, huh? You come into my spot and you don’t give me a wink!”

“Aw, you know it’s not like that. I was a little distracted.” He answers, nodding his head back at me and sending heat up my neck.

Hank looks back over at me and extends a hand, introducing himself. “You must be Y/N.”

“Don’t say that. She’s gonna think I sit around talking about her all day.” Chris sighs in fake annoyance.

“Don’t worry. I already assumed you did.” I chime in, laughing. Hank chuckles and taps Chris on the chest. “I like her. Keep her close.”

Chris smiles over at me, electricity humming between us. “Trying to figure out how to do that as we speak.” He admits.

I study him, wanting nothing more than to stand and kiss him with every bit of emotion I can muster but refrain.

“Well, you better figure it out. I ain’t seen a beauty like that in this town since your mama.” Hank jokes, nudging a shoulder against Chris’. And before he even responds, I sense the change in the atmosphere.

Chris narrows his eyes, his nostrils flaring out as he levels the man with a stare. “Shut your fucking mouth about that.”

Hank looks startled, clearly not meaning any offense but Chris storms out of the bar before he can apologize. The bell over the exit announcing his departure.

I stand there dumbly for a second before I follow him out, calling his name. He slows slightly, looking over his shoulder at me, but the fire in his eyes hasn't cooled a bit.

“Not now, Y/N.” He snaps as we reach the car, going around to the driver’s side and slamming it shut before I can even open my door. I hesitate for a second and he lays on the horn as if I’m taking an hour. Biting back my irritation, I hop into the truck silently, stealing looks at his hardened profile as he speeds out of the parking lot.

Once a bit of time has passed, I chance speaking, hoping to help him out of this sour mood. “Are you alright?”

He chuckles bitterly, shaking his head in annoyance. “Stop pretending like you care.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, turning my body towards him and hardening my eyes.

“You heard me. Why does it matter? You ain’t my girl. You’re just some broad who’s gonna fly out of here in a couple of months and never look back.” He rants, his breathing heavy.

I blink at him for a few seconds trying to reconcile this boy next to me with the one who I just spent the night with. Before I give him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me, I turn away, whispering a quiet “okay”, and focus on the passing town.

When we pull up in front of the house, Chris opens his mouth as if to say something but I quickly toss the door open and slide out. Not allowing myself even the slightest glance at his face, I slam the door shut and head inside.

And just like every time I’ve ever gone out with Jace, I end the night wondering where exactly I went wrong.

🏷️/ @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

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bakugoushotwife · 9 months

Text

Daddy's Home For Good

a/n: this was requested by one of my lovely followers privately, and I absolutely love the idea of whipped daddy gojo just insanely in love with his wife and the idea of being a dad soon! so enjoyyyy. this is a part two but can be read as a stand alone.

part one : daddy’s home

pairings: satoru gojo x fem!reader

cw: lactation kink, pregnancy, descriptions of pregnant body, reader was curvier to begin with, fingering, nipple play, brief childbirth i guess? unedited as always.

wc: 3.3k

It blew him away, really. How quickly the urge to be a father came on, how good it felt to act on these needs with you, and how successful his attempts turned out to be. When you came to him with all those positive pregnancy tests, he didn’t think life could get any better. This truly was the highlight of his life, and anyone that knew the man that existed pre-you would absolutely cackle at the sight. Satoru Gojo, buying baby clothes and bibs and strollers to take his son around town in, to show off the latest member of the Gojo family tree.

It was almost ridiculous. Every time, on his way home from grueling missions or a packed day of training those kids he loved so much, your husband came home with some sort of accessory or necessity for the baby boy you were growing for him. He always had that signature satisfied grin on his face, his eyes wide with pride and love. He just can’t wait to see your reaction to these onesies, he knows the colors go perfectly with the nursery scheme. He picked out the paint for the room as meticulously as he picked out these onesies—with all of his love and care in mind. He looked around to see the empty living room, figuring you were either in your shared room resting, or doing some more nesting in the baby’s room. He sighs happily, slipping out of his shoes and putting his keys down, that shit-eating grin still adorning his features as he waits for you.

You—his most precious wife, glowing and beautiful with that bump of yours. He just can’t help himself, Satoru has always lacked impulse control and the way you waddle out from the bedroom to greet him makes his chest warm with emotion and his dick pulse with another one. You were eight–almost nine– months along, his son inside you causing your breasts to grow two cup sizes, though they were already massive. Your hips had widened even more, your hair and skin seemed to shine brighter. You were mesmerizing, the perfect image of a mother. You grin happily, resting your hand on your growing stomach while you make your way over to him. You were the reason he got to be this happy, and he would pamper you in every way because of it. The next Gojo boy could arrive any day now, and he could barely wait.

“My beautiful woman!” He cheers upon your approach, holding up the shopping bags filled to the brim with clothes and pacifier clips and little shoes and anything else you can think of when it comes to a baby’s needs. His smile spreads wider when he sees your forced surprise. You were impossibly sexy like this, stroking your belly and leaning against the couch as he pulled out the dinosaur onesie he was most proud of. He loves the soft look in your eye as you look at him, the adoration you have can only mirror the kind he holds for you.

“Look at all this, Daddy spoils us.” You giggle, shaking your head as you examine all the clothes and toys your over excited husband brought home. You couldn’t wait to give birth at this point either. You thought you looked horrendous, sweaty and swollen at all hours of the day. You can’t get any sleep because of your size, and no clothes were comfortable. You loved being pregnant but…you also loathed it once you got this big. “Haru is so lucky to be your son, yeah?”

Satoru beams at this, nodding his agreement. “Oh but of course, nothing but the best for my loves.”

You can’t help but admire him this way. He’s so in love with you and the prospect of a family, he can’t stop himself from bringing home an obnoxious amount of gifts for you and baby both. This far into the pregnancy, as the days draw closer to Haru being on this side of the world with you, your anxiety increases as well. It was such a relief to have a husband like Satoru by your side. He took care of everything, leaving you to rest and take it easy, reading your books and preening about as you wish. It seems he had the inevitable nesting instincts, keeping the house clean and making all the meals for the two of you.

He would always say he had to keep you healthy since Haru was sucking out all your nutrients. He had surprised you honestly, doing all this research to keep you comfortable. Half the gifts he brought home early on were suited for you, the highest end maternity clothes and body pillows—though he preferred you use him when he was home. He made sure the cleaning products he used were all non-toxic and safe for you to breathe, once again completely surprising you during the earlier months of your pregnancy. He even brought his students in to meal prep freezer food for the recovery, that way Satoru never had to leave your side and could give all of his attention to you and your newborn son. He was so beautifully excited to be a father, and you were so content to be the one giving him children. As long as he kept this treatment up, you’d continue to pump out Gojo’s until he wanted to stop.

Which didn’t seem to be on his mind at all. Seeing you like this right now, swollen and fatigued from all your hard work, he wanted this all the time. It was such a dominant and possessive and honestly out-dated thing to desire so deeply, to keep you pregnant and at home caring for all the other babies all day long, but fuck this would never get old. Your giggles as you pull out yet another adorable little outfit for your son, the sweet way you bat your lashes up at him to say thank you, the darkening patches spreading across the cloth of your t-shirt…it all made his body break out in a sweat, a need to please you growing in his gut.

You hear his shaky breath, looking up at him to see his chlorine colored eyes darkening steadily, and his hand covering his crotch.

“Sato? What’s wrong?” You ask, your sweet voice sending shivers down his spine and making him blush in embarrassment at the same time. You were much too big to try to accommodate his sexual desires, much less, it’s wrong that he’s so turned on by you leaking breast milk in front of him.

He shakes his head, giving you a nervous chuckle and waving off your concern. “Oh, nothing, wifey. Don’t worry.” His eyes flicker over your form, stuttering around your chest before they meet your worried ones.

You notice, of course you would notice. He knows you’ll think he’s a pervert for sure now, even though he most definitely was and you most definitely already knew that about your husband after the years of marriage and dating. You gasp once you see the dark wet stains in your top.

“Shit–I’m sorry, that’s been happening here recently—I think it’s a good thing but uh, I’ll go get changed, I’m sorry—”

He grabs your wrist before you can spin around and head back to the bedroom. His brow is furrowed, and his other hand comes to hold your chin. He seems even more upset than before.

“Don’t ever apologize to me…that’s what’s gonna feed our son, I never wanna hear that again.” He mumbles, eyes darkening again as they fixate on the damp markings. His hand lets your wrist go, coming up to brush his thumb across the fabric. It gives you a chill, your nipples have always been far too sensitive to his touch, now more than ever. You breathe in sharply at the feeling, and he bites down on his lower lip.

He, as always, is far too sensitive to you as a whole, now more than ever. Your little gasp encourages him to keep going, maybe the idea wasn’t so horrible after all. He brushes his thumb against your hardened nipple now, watching your face closely. The moment is so quiet and delicate, he doesn’t know if he should speak, to excuse or explain himself for this. You look down at his touch and then back up at him, and his pupils expand. He likes it, he wants to see more of your leaking tits, you realize.

“Ohhhh…” You grin as you understand his earlier strange behavior. “So Daddy likes Mama’s leaky boobs, huh?” You tease, a cute little smirk displayed on your face. God, sometimes you were too much for him. He was trying to stifle these urges, to respect the mother of his unborn child more than this—but you’re making it impossible. His breathing gets a little shakier with your taunts, and he ashamedly nods his head yes.

“Don’t be shy, Satoru.” You purr his name like always, pushing his big hand harder against your chest. “It’s cute…you love everything about makin’ me a mother.” You coo, your other hand reaching for his cheek now. He leans his face into your hold, tremendously vulnerable now that you’ve caught him. Though, you don’t seem disgusted by him, so maybe there’s hope. Especially at your last sentence, it seems you understand him in a way he didn’t even quite get. Why would he be craving the taste of your milk right now, the sight of your pretty chest dripping with the nutrients his son would soon need? Because he caused all of it? Yeah, he understands now. His cloudy blue eyes finally meet yours again, and he nods.

“Mhm, can’t help it, angel. You just look so hot like this, and I just wanna make you feel good..” He says, tunnel visioning back to your chest. He slips his hand out of your grip, opting to slide them under your shirt instead. You nod slowly, your breath catching in your throat when his warm palms cup your heavy tits. It’s so sensitive, they feel so weighty and full, you can’t help but moan a little bit as he massages them. He gently pushes you back into the couch, helping you get comfortable on the broad cushions. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fuck you the right way, but that was the least of his worries right now. He wouldn’t be able to carry on unless he saw you, unless he tasted the food that would help his son grow big and strong like him.

You’re blissed out immediately, just from the relief of his touch. He supports your heavy tits in his hands, softly stroking over your wet nipples with his thumbs. His cock jumps with your every moan. He thinks its hot, the way you move your hips still, wishing he could fuck into you and do this at the same time. It makes him smile, how needy you became within seconds, and he wonders if you had thought about this too. He regretfully lets go of your chest, supporting them carefully until they rested against you. He didn’t want to cause any pain, no no. His only job was to bring relief and pleasure.

He didn’t even understand how good it felt to be fondled and worshiped like this. He kneels between your legs on the floor, looking over your gorgeous pregnant body leaning perfectly against the couch. He pushes your shirt up–one that actually belonged to him–but god it worked perfectly on you now. The shirt rests above your engorged breasts, revealing your fully naked form to him. He shivers. He knows with your size as of late, it’s hard enough to put on the t-shirt. Pregnancy was such a gift. Here you are, your belly huge and perfect, the veins on your chest more pronounced, your nipples more pink than usual and dripping with liquid. He moans aloud, just from the sight of you.

You giggle at the sound, heat licking up your body. As ugly as you thought you looked these days, your husband never thought you looked better. You reach around blindly for him, unable to see him from the way you were leaning combined with the massive bump in between you two. He hums, leaning up a bit so you could grab a gentle fistful of his hair. When he leans up enough to make eye contact, you nearly laugh again. He’s under a spell, his eyes frenzied with desire. He looks at your chest again, slick and sheeny and your nipples just aching for some relief.

“You want me to suck on you, Mama?” He asks with a smirk, his hands rubbing circles into your stomach as he eagerly awaits your response.

“Please Daddy, miss your mouth so much, everywhere.” You huff, tugging on his hair to pull him closer to your needy breasts. He won’t make you beg. That’s the least he could do for his gorgeous baby mama. He hums, his tongue parting his lips and his eyes focused on yours. He leans in and licks the wetness around your nipples, groaning at the sweet taste of your milk. His large hand gently massages the fullness of your neglected breast, his tongue flicking over your pebbled bud for more of your essence. You moan and whimper, wiggling around helplessly. He was amazed by your sensitivity, your back arching off the couch when he wraps his lips around your nipple.

He moans, your milk falling in drops in his mouth. His eyes flutter shut, your moans were impossibly sexy and his cock was starting to hurt. He knew he couldn’t use you like that, so he just ruts against the bottom of the couch, suckling on your tits like he was the one who needed the nutrients.

It felt amazing, the wet and warm relief of his mouth sucking out some of the pressure was too much, you could feel your pussy leaking your normal fluids all over the couch cover. “Oh Daddy, you’re makin’ me feel s’much better~”

He nods, swallowing everything he’d collected thus far to swap to your neglected one. He sees you reach for your pussy, though with the size of your stomach, you can’t reach. He chuckles softly, taking it as a sign of your permission before he swats your hand away and replaces it with his own fingers. He circles your clit, making you gasp and part your legs even more for him. His mouth closes around your unused bud, and your whines are like a symphony. He knows you’re going to cum soon, and from the way he ruts against the couch…he will too.

You’ve done your research, you know that orgasms and nipple stimulation can lead to your water breaking but with everything else you had tried to induce your labor lately, you didn’t think this one would work. You tried the exercise ball, you ate dates, you even tried eating spicy foods but all for naught—your son seemed to be as stubborn as his father.

So when you’re screaming and cumming hard just from Satoru suckling your chest and his minimal pressure to your clit, the extra rush of water is hardly noticed. Innocently, Satoru thinks maybe you squirted from such a naughty act. He’s brainless for the moment anyway, his vision blackened as he busts in his pants, all from the pleasure he brought to you and getting to indulge in one of his fantasies. He’s panting, laughing at himself for cumming untouched. He stands and kisses your forehead, letting you get your breath back as he steps off into your bedroom to change and bring you a towel.

“I hope that made you feel good, angel, you’re out here embarrassing me.” He chuckles, crouching to wipe you up.

You go to respond, giggling, when the sharp pain cuts you off. It felt like a period cramp, but much more intense. You had had these all day, convincing yourself it was another Braxton-Hicks instance, but you knew. In your heart of hearts, it was time.

“Satoru–”

“What’s that look for babe? You look like you’ve seen a ghost–”

“Haru–he’s coming.” You blurt out, eyes wide and face paling several shades. He does the same, hands flying to his hair in shock.

“Right now? Oh my god—” He’s running around immediately, calling Megumi to come watch the cats and calling Shoko to meet you at the hospital and sprinting to the nursery for the hospital bag before he’s back with clothes for you, dressing you with shaky hands. “It’s really time!”

You nod, checking the bag while he puts your pants on, sliding your feet into sandals. “It’s really time. Oh my god, Sato..our baby is coming!” You squeal in between bouts of contractions.

He gives you a broad smile, gently helping you to your feet. He slings the hospital bag on his shoulder, the plan for Haru’s arrival having been in place for weeks. He’s a mess of nerves as he tucks you into the car, making sure for the fifteen-hundredth time that the car seat was installed correctly before he finally gets in the driver's side. He keeps a protective hand over your stomach the whole time, frowning in sympathy every time you endure a contraction.

Part of these nerves are his excitement, his relief that his strange inclination ended up inducing your labor, and his overwhelming desire to meet his son. “Our baby is coming.” He echoes, a whisper as the hospital comes into view.

8 hours later, little Haru Gojo makes his first appearance into the world. He’s beautiful, and strong, and certainly makes his presence known with his loud cries and haughty grip on his father’s thumb once he’s been cleaned up and given back.

Satoru is in awe. His son, this tiny little bundle of blankets laying in his arms, the creation of him and the woman he loves so dearly. Eyes of the same shade of blue look up at him, smiling. The boy coos loudly too, babbling and reaching for his father’s face. Satoru sits next to you on your bed, utterly in love. “He’s perfect. Thank you, my angel.” He says, carefully leaning over to kiss your temple.

You smile softly, exhausted but thrilled at the same time. You love the tamed look in your husband’s eyes, a new kind of softness invented specifically for his child. He cuddles the boy close, holding you in his other arm. His family, just the start. His heart is so full, and once again he’s surprised that he could feel so intensely. He watches you rest against him, your eyes tired and full of love for your son—the Gojo family.

“Thank you. You gave him to me.” You remind, reaching your hand out to smooth the white peach fuzz sprouting on Haru’s head. He scoffs at you, and the baby starts to writhe towards his mother.

“Oh gag, that’s the easiest job in the world. You’ve gone through so much just to give me this little boy, hush and let me worship the ground you walk on, please.” He insists, letting his fingers trace the tiny nose and lips of his little son. He smiles at Haru's puckers and squirms, knowing he was probably hungry. He gently places him in your arms, his strong chest helping you sit upright. He smiles, watching the magic that is you feeding his child. “Looks like I’ve got some competition..”

You slap his shoulder and roll your eyes, giggling at the first of many dad jokes that Satoru had no doubt researched as well. He just sighs lovingly, wrapping his arms around you and supporting all your weight, keen to wait on you hand and foot until you are fully recovered—and even then. He’s beyond grateful for this life. Maybe all the pain and heartache was worth it. He gets to call himself a husband and now a father, a future he had never imagined for himself. He owes it all to you, the woman who quite literally birthed his dreams.

“I’ve got more where that comes from so…stay on your toes, Mama.”

#gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #kyleewritesjjk #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo #gojo saturo

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silent-raven13 · 9 months

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Spoiling Miles

Hobie loves to spoil his boo, his baby, his boyfriend. whatever Miles want or doesn't think he need, Hobie is there to give it to him.

Miles busy drawing his art looks over to his empty marker: Damn, ran out.

Hobie appears with five markers: Here you go, sunflower.

Miles blinks in surprise: Wow, you got me markers. You didn't have to-☺️

Hobie: I want to, luv 😘

Another time

Miles being cold on a mission: Geez, is cold here!🥺

Hobie yanks Peter's pink robe off him: Hobie! That's mine! I'm cold, too!

Hobie grunts: Suck it up! -turns to Miles- hear you go, luv! -placing the pink bathroom around his bf-

Miles giggles: thanks, bae! -happily wears it-🥹🥰

Peter shivering in the cold: What about me!?😐😭

Another event

Gwen said to Pav: Miles is a princess boyfriend, huh?

Pav: Princess boyfriend? Don't you mean Pillow Princess?

Gwen: No dummy. Princess boyfriend. Hobie spoils the crap out of him. Look! -she waves Miles over- Hey Miles! Didn't you say you were craving for an empanada?

Miles went over to them: Yeah, I'm thinking of going to the cafeteria to- -Hobie place a foam container with empanadas in his bf's hands- Hobie, how did you- I thought you were in your world?😮

Hobie: My spidey sense was sensing you were hungry, luv. I got you empanadas! You were lucky, these were the last ones!

Miles smiles happily: Thanks bae. You're so sweet. -happily eats them-💕

Pav took the yellow sticky paper from Hobie's hand seeing him hide it away from Miles: It's said, 'Miguel' -his eyes widen- Those are Miguel?

Gwen: You stole them!

Hobie: Anything for my Sunflower -he shrugs- besides I switch them with someone else's plate.

They heard a loud crash as they turn over to find Miguel upset he got a salad: QUE ES ESTO!!? 😤 -he went into the cafeteria to start a fight-

Hobie shrug: Let's leave. -quickly went to Miles to go sit away from Miguel-

Another time

Gwen and Miles walking in Central Park.

Miles: I don't think I can ever leave Hobie.

Gwen: What makes you think that?

Miles blushes: I'm a princess boyfriend, so I would expect too much for a partner. And Hobie already got me so spoiled. 😌🥹

Gwen: Honestly, I think he spoils you too much.

Miles: What makes you say that?

Gwen:... Miles, he's carrying you right now because you didn't want your new J's covered in mud! -she points at Hobie-

Miles turns to his boyfriend, who's carrying him in bridal style. His arms wrapped around Hobie's neck and gawks: Oh hey, baby! -he kisses Hobie on the lips- Thanks, love you!🥰😘

Hobie smiles happily: Love you too, Sunflower! -turns to Gwen- don't get jealous now, Gwendy! -he kisses his boyfriend again-🥰

Gwen: UGH! 😑

-Yes, Hobie steals to give his boo anything and everything, but Miles doesn't need to know that 🫣🤭-

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #spiderman #spider verse #across the spider verse

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sjswrites · 9 months

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Aggressive Affection

Masterlist

Summary: Your girlfriend, Nat, just came back for a mission and she has a new way of showing her affection.

Warnings: Swearing, A lot aggression

A/n: I just wanted to credit the Tiktok couple I got this from. @ 6lair. Definitely check out their playlist of aggressive affection. It's hilarious and cute. Anyways, I could only see Nat doing this so here we are.

The car lowly rumbled into the compound parking lot as a crossed-armed redhead occupied my parking spot. The window slowly slid down as her eyes held daggers at my throat.

“Where the fuck were you?!”

My jaw hit the floor as her angry growl echoed off the walls. “Excuse me?” Her serious demeanor slight pulled back out of fear. “First of all, I know you’re not speaking to me like that.” Her act refortified. “And secondly, you could’ve called and I would have gladly told you where I was.”

“Well first of all,” she said, mocking my tone. My raised eyebrow checked her as her voice whined, “you didn’t kiss me this morning.” My smile poked through. “And secondly, you shouldn’t be touching doors.” She leaned her head into the car as I fought my laughter to stay in character in whatever weird skit this was. “Now give me a kiss.”

“I’m sorry.” My chuckles escaped as I pecked her lips. “You were sleeping and I wanted to surprise you with-”

“And you carried these bags!” She snapped at me. “That’s it! You’re bedridden for the rest of the day.” She scolded.

My hand shoved her face out. “Oh my God, Natasha. You’re being fucking ridiculous.” The windows glided up as a little pouty lip popped out.

“You’re breaking my heart, darling. You’re not allowed to call me that.” Her voice slightly muffled through the window. She opened the door and offered me her hand.

“I’m just saying, baby,” My arms draped over her shoulders. “You just got back from a three-month mission.” She leaned down and laid another kiss on me. Soft and loving. Unlike her tone. I slowly pulled away to finish my thought before it got swept away with the flood of affection from my girlfriend. “I should be spoiling you.”

She walked me back and forcefully shoves me into the rear door of the car. “Stay.” Her red locks ducked into the car as I rolled my eyes at her. She emerged with the bags as she stared me down. “You better wake me up next time.” With all four bags dangling from her one arm, she grabbed my hands with the other. “I never wanna miss another goddamn minute with you and your beautiful self. Understand?”

“Fine. I will because I love spending time with you, especially after you just come back from a mission.” She stepped in front of me and opened the door. “I think it’s very fucking sexy that my girlfriend saves the world for a living.”

“Good because I love keeping you safe.” She followed me into the kitchen as she continued to berate me. “I also love how understanding you are about my job! Fuck! About everything!” She slung the bags onto the counter. “You are quite literally the best thing that has ever happened to me!” A little smug smile slipped onto her face while started cooking.

“Oh yeah? Well, you make me the happiest woman on this Earth. Now shut the fuck up or I will kiss that little fucking smile off your face.”

“I wish you would.” Her smile broaden as she taunted it in my face.

“Maybe I will!” I shoved her.

“You won’t!” She shoved me back.

“Watch me!” My fingers pinched her chin and brought her lips down to mine.

“I am so confused. What is happening right now?” The Russian voice asked as she pulled away.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” Natasha threw her hands up. “You!” She sat up on the counter while I continued cooking. “I’m gonna make you my fucking wife.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time because I swear, I would be so lucky to call you my wife.” I pointed at her with my spatula before slapping it onto the counter. “You always make me feel so happy and safe. I swear to God, I love you more and more every single fucking day. I didn't even think that was possible!” Natasha marched off down the hallway.

“Is this how all relationships are?” Yelena asked Kate.

“Nope. Not at all.” She simply replied.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not upset by it.” I giggled and whispered. “Honestly, aggressive affection suits her.”

“Woman! If you keeping doing that adorable little giggle, I’m gonna take you to our room and please the shit out of you.”

“That’s my cue to leave.” Yelena got up and left with Kate.

“You better get your ass in bed right now so I can feed you your breakfast and IF you eat it all, I’ll let you have dessert.” I plated her food and walked down the hallway.

“What are you talking about?! Of course, I'm going to eat it all because you're an amazing cook!” She wrapped her arms around my waist and walked behind me as headed to out room. Her lips gently kissing my shoulder and neck as she whispered in my ear. “And you always taste delicious for me.”

Masterlist

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #black widow #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 4 months

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A gift for @turbulentscrawl i did my best bvhfvihiv

Rated T | Warnings: god why is this cute??

“Eyes are up here,” Not any hint of annoyance, just making you aware he knows where you are looking. “(Name).”

“I know.” Somehow you are aware of the cipher while staring, “Do you paint your nails?”

The Professor blinks and then looks at his hand, the one with fewer scales on it, “No, they grew out like this.”

“Do you file them?”

“When I have time. They are not easy to keep at this length.” This must be your way of trying to get to know him. He hears you are a chatterbox from the others, preppy, fairly excitable. A few hunters like to pick you out because you are easily frightened, a screamer. Luchino has heard it but sounds more silly than terrified, he even heard you giggling when Fool’s Gold caught you.

Maybe you are mentally unwell? Not unheard of for some to mentally break down in high stressful situations.

“Have you ever accidentally scratched yourself?” The cipher is almost done.

“Once or twice,” The cipher pops, “Go.” He runs in front of the hunter giving you time to find another cipher.

A tie, you got pity from the hunter called Disciple, not sure how. You claimed meowing back at her made her help you find a dungeon.

The next time you are around the Professor, you are staring at the snake in the case. He has passed you twice and you haven't moved from your spot. Maybe you are like Emil? Though you seem more stable than him.

“(Name), tell me something about you.”

“I like dinosaurs.” Speaking up, “Where I'm from there are a ton of movies about them. I like Godzilla.” Not a dinosaur but he is cool.

“Fascinating,” Luchino said at his desk writing notes, “You said you were from a time further ahead of Lucky Guy.”

“Yeah. Not by much.” You get up to see what the Professor is doing, “Oh, you don't name them?” Disappointed.

“Would you like to name them?”

You smile and point at each of the reptiles in the room giving them a name and nickname.

You are fairly harmless, too harmless, and fearless too. One who can stare down those like Undead deserves some matter of respect. Still, he wished you would have not taken the role of kiting the hunter when you have no known ability to help you.

“You stare a lot.”

“Sorry, this time it was your chest.” Looking at him, “Do you hate them?”

“Hate what exactly?”

You still are digging through the chest, “Your scales. I think they are pretty.” You are the first person to compliment them.

“Thank you.” Being polite, “Do you know how to use that?” Seeing you pull out a perfume.

“Nope! Gonna find out soon.”

You got chaired but not before you used the perfume bottom like ‘pepper spray’. The hunter was not happy.

After matches, you return to his room to look at ‘Carl’ the snake. You feed ‘Josh’ the gecko. And sleep in a corner next to ‘Liz’ the iguana. Simple names, he nearly found himself writing those names in his reports.

“If I could be anything,” You one day say out of the blue, “It would be a dragon.”

“And pray tell why a dragon?”

“Easy, because dragons are cool.” There is a charm to how your answers have the simplicity of a child. “You?”

“Hm,” He already has seen a possible future of himself as the ‘Evil Reptilian’, “A bird.”

“That sounds sad.” You say, “I thought you said cat so you can enjoy naps and stuff.”

“A bird can go anywhere it pleases,” He leans against the chair as he loosens his braids, “A cat requires a person to care for it.”

“Doesn't seem too bad. Just be cute and fluffy all day and be taken care of.” You stare at Liz who is staring at you.

“Is that something you want? To be taken care of?” Curious.

“Of course!”

“And what about being a dragon?”

“I can be a dragon and be spoiled by my human followers.” You laugh ‘evilly’ at the end.

Shaking his head as resumes working.

#idv #reader insert #idv professor #luchino diruse #luchino diruse x reader #luchino diruse x you #professor x reader #identity v x reader #identity v professor #professor x you #idv x you #idv x reader #identity v #identity v x you

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

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The Grey Zone 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, age gap, bullying, toxic parental figures, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your parents has never been good, and that with a family friend takes a strange turn(goth!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: This is what happens when I decide to say fuck it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

The scent of matcha dampens your corset. Lucky for you, it’s black and won’t stain. That’s the one worry you rarely face in your life; stains. Dark fabric does more favours than just slimming you.

Still, that sunny side isn’t enough to brighten your mood. Your day has been shrouded in dark clouds. Your wasted Starbucks matcha and spoiled study sessions weigh down your feet, the thick treads of your boots clomping down the pavement. And on the bus, you nearly fell right on your face with no seats free to sit.

You look up as you approach your father’s ranch house style home. He didn’t take much pride in you but the house was always a gem for him to show off. Almost all your life, it was under one renovation or another. He was always trying to fix things up, including you.

Your mother enabled his endless ‘improvements’ so long as he bribed her with something pretty. That was her thing. He builds, she decorates, and you are the one ornament that doesn’t fit. At least, that’s what it’s felt like since your turn towards black nail polish and fishnets at thirteen. Seven years later and there was still the same angst woven into your parental relationships.

You tramp up the steps of the porch, not noticing the figure sat on the handcrafted bench near the large squared paned windows. Mr. Hansen sits with a can of craft beer in hand, arching a brow at the can as he reads it skeptically. He glances over, not so surprised by your sudden appearance.

You take your earbuds out as the racket scratches from the tiny speakers. You thin your lips, smiles not exactly your forte. He sits up and puts the can down on the bench.

“Tastes like fermented socks,” he says coolly, “your dad never has anything good.”

“Mm,” you grumble as you grip the leather strap of your studded knapsack. “Yeah…”

“You want it? Just don’t tattle on me,” he offers as he taps the aluminum brim.

You shake your head.

“I won’t tell,” he smirks.

“You’re right, it tastes like socks,” you say dully.

He chuckles and brings his hand up, smoothing his palm across the buzzed side of his head. He looks at you, a bit longer than usual. You have the urge to take out your phone and check your reflection.

“I should–”

“That new?”

You speak at the same time. Awkward. Mr. Hansen isn’t usually that out of sync. He has a confidence that makes you feel even more clueless.

“What?” You blink and twist your toe into the wood.

“That shirt.”

You look down at the boned black corset with the violet trim, over a plain black turtleneck. You got it from a vintage store years ago. You’ve worn it so much, the boning holds the shape of your body. You shake your head and shrug.

“Hmm, looks nice.”

The compliment catches you further off guard than his solitary presence. He’s blunt and to the point. The only person you’ve ever heard tell your father the truth. And you know your style is not to everyone's taste.

Looking at him, it's definitely not his. Cream coloured pants, burgundy loafers with golden buckles, and polo striped in shades of goldenrod and garnet.

“Thanks,” you keep from sucking your lip in, not wanting to smear your lip stain. “I should… go.”

“Sure,” he sits back, leaning against the window frame, “if you see your dad, send him out. He ditched me like fifteen minutes ago to find some nonsense sports card.”

“Right,” you continue across the porch.

In your peripheral, his head turns but you don’t meet his gaze. You pull open the screen door, innately aware of him watching you. Why?

The interior door is ajar. You step inside and the spring of the screen snaps it shut behind you. You put your bag on the console table just inside, and lean on it as you unlace your boots. Your mother would subject you to her shrill disapproval if you leave dirt on the runner again.

As you stand, you check your reflection in the round mirror hung on the wall, a frame of golden oak leaves around it. You don’t look that bad. You fixed most of your smeared eyeliner before you left the mall and your lip stain has stuck pretty well. You might be a bit shiny from sweat but nothing egregious.

Before you can grab your bag, the screen door opens. You wince and look at Mr. Hansen as he enters. He is close as he lets the door shut softly and you quickly snatch your knapsack and move away from him.

“Second thought, gotta hit the bathroom,” he explains but pauses and wiggles his nose, the gesture made more obvious by the trim of hair beneath, “smells like grass.”

“Uh, yeah,” you sling your bag from your elbow, “spilled my tea.”

“Probably a good thing if it smells like a lawn,” he scoffs and kicks off his velvet loafers.

“Probably,” you agree glumly and turn away.

“Too bad though. Hope you didn’t burn yourself.”

You stop again, at the bottom of the stairs. You glance back at him. He’s being strangely nice. This isn’t the same man who called you Wednesday Addams and teased you how he was certain that you must sleep in a coffin. Is something wrong? Is your dad okay?

“Hey,” your dad’s voice booms down the stairs above you. You spin and look up at his descent. He carries the old cigar box he keeps his collectibles in, “home early. Thought you were studying.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m just going to do it here–” you say.

“Your mother wants you to help with dinner tonight,” he doesn’t let you finish. As he nears he stops, looking you up and down like he always does. You have to know that he hates everything about you. “Colourful.”

“Dad,” you whisper a weak plea.

He doesn’t answer you as he shoulders past. You frown but don’t look back. You don’t want to show how much it hurts. Even if it happens every day, it still crushes you. It’s just clothes, why does he care so much? You remember the day he stopped taking you to car shows with him, the day you refused to take out your earrings. That was the switch.

“Studying, huh? Boring, but admirable,” Mr. Hansen comments, “think most dad’s would love to hear that from their daughters, huh, Ray?”

Your father just huffs, “depends what they’re studying.”

You keep on up the stairs. You won’t argue, not in front of company. Especially not in front of Mr. Hansen.

“Degree isn’t worth much when you dress like that,” you hear his remark before you get to the top.

You peek back downstairs but can’t see the landing below. Funny, you got a job and they don’t care what you wear, they just want you to show up. If only you had the courage to say it out loud. If only it would make a difference.

You shuffle to your room, just down the hall from your father’s. He occupies the primary room and your mother sleeps in her studio, just the next doorway. They can be amiable, given they don’t spend too much time together. Their relationship is more transactional than affectionate.

You wouldn’t know much about that, though. You’re only guessing. The closest you got to a relationship was when Travis invited you under the bleaches… that’s a memory worth forgetting.

You close your door before you can get carried away. You stopped worrying about your parents’ marriage right before high school. You realised then, there wasn’t any use in fretting in it. In fact, you became almost hopeful that one day they would split.

You put your bag on your bed and look around. The vanity you painted black stands beside the dark curtains. Little bat stickers decorate the edges of the mirror, your collection of antique vials and painted bottles line one side, and your make up chest sits on the other. It’s your little cave, the one place no one can tell you who to be.

You turn on the lamp in the shape of a crystal ball. You undo your corset and peel off your turtleneck, leaving the damp clothing in the hamper. You pull on a black and white striped sweater instead.

You unpack your laptop and climb up on your high queen. The frame has curling iron posts, a particularly gothic design with a peak at the center of the headboard. You love it even if it scratches the paint off the wall.

You pile your pillows up, building a cosy nest to catch up on your work. It’s maybe ten minutes before there’s pounding on your door. Your mother doesn’t wait for an answer. You’ve learned not to expect her to. You look over as she flips on the overhead lights, ruining the subtle ambience of your bedside lamp.

“Uh, hello,” she snips, “your dad said he told you about dinner.”

You frown, “it’s only four–”

“Yes, and? I’m making a bouillabaisse. It needs lots of time,” she retorts, “besides, the table will need to be set for our company.”

“Company? You mean Mr. Hansen–”

“Er yeah,” she sniffs, “don’t be so dumb and stop asking questions.”

“Just curious,” you close your laptop and push yourself across the bed, “coming…”

Your voice trails off as your mother’s already gone, your door left slightly ajar. You huff and follow her tracks, her steps on the stairs as you get to the hallway. You pull your door shut behind you, checking to make sure the fault mechanism catches.

You continue downstairs and follow the impatient clanging of your mother. She’s never very subtle. She already has a glass of red on the counter. She’ll bark at you over it as she tells you exactly how to cook and refuse to do any of it herself.

“Oh, honey,” she says dramatically as she slams the soup pot on the burner, “you look so grim. What happened to that new gloss I bought you?”

“The pink stuff?” You utter as you pick at your sleeves.

“It went so nice with your complexion,” she preens, “it would look so nice with a new dress. I was online shopping today–”

“Mom,” you cross your arms.

“Don’t be a brat. You know, when I was your age, I would’ve loved if my mother still bought me clothes. She made me work for everything I had. She wouldn’t even buy me tampons.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“Don’t be sorry, get the fish out. Don’t forget the mussels…”

You do as she says. You take out the vast array of fish along with the vegetables she lists off. She empties her glass by the time you start adding ingredients to the blender for the base. You’ve never been a fan of the dish but the last time you tried to convince her on something similar, you went to bed with a stinging cheek. She pours a second glass as you run the motor, holding it extra long to override her nagging.

She leans on the counter, swirling her glass. You can smell her cabinet-laced breath. She’s tipsy already. You add oil to the pot and wait for it to heat up.

“You look so dreary in black,” she mopes, “what happened to my little girl?”

“I’m twenty,” you offer flatly.

“Oh, you started this long before that,” she snarls, “you never wanted to be pretty for your mama.”

“I…” you look down, “this is pretty. To me.”

“You look like one of those girls on the internet…” her head wobbles and she slurps from her glass, “I’ve seen the type. They wear tights like yours and nothing else. What are you always doing on your computer, anyway?”

The accusation scalds you. You shake your head and add the chopped onion, fennel, and leek to the hot oil. This isn’t the first time she’s made the insinuation. Like that time she found certain websites saved on your father’s iPad. It couldn’t have been him, he wouldn’t look at those things. And there was only one other person to blame.

“Schoolwork,” you sigh, “mom,” you look at her wine glass, almost empty again, “how about some water–”

“How about you don’t tell me what to do,” she points at you with a long red nail, “I am your mother, not the other way around.”

“I know,” you grab a rubber spatula and push around the veggies and oil. The fragrant aroma rises in the air. It stokes your appetite.

“Mmm, something smells delicious,” Mr. Hansen’s voice enters ahead of him as you glance over.

Your mother turns and leans her elbows back on the counter, pushing her chest out. You know this part too. Not just with him but the gardener and even the garbage man. Your eyes flick to Mr. Hansen’s before you quickly return your attention to the pot.

“Looks delicious too,” your mother slithers as she leers at him, “Lloyd, I didn’t even get a chance to thank you for the merlot!” She raises her glass sloppily, “there’s enough left for you.”

“Ah, Connie, that’s nice of you,” he replies as he nears, “but it’s cabernet, actually. And my stomach was turned by that craft bullshit.”

He comes close to the stove, standing beside you as he peers down into the pot. The heat from the stove couples with that of his proximity. Your mother drains her glass and pulls away from the counter.

“More for me,” she chimes and grabs the bottle.

You feel a warmth on your lower back as Mr. Hansen’s cologne mingles with the scent of your cooking, “what’s for dinner, sweetheart?”

You realise he’s touching you. His hand slips under the wool of your sweater and his thumb rubs the skin along the top of your pants. You freeze and keep your hand steady as you simmer the veggies. You peek over at your mother, she’s too distracted with her glass.

“Bouillabaisse,” you answer in a brittle voice. You shift and his hand falls away, grazing the top of your pocket, a tickle on your ass.

“Mmm, fish,” he purrs, “I’m starving.”

“Shoo, shoo,” your mother waves her hand at him, “won’t cook faster with you hovering around.”

“Fine, fine,” he raises his hands defensively, “don’t burn yourself, Connie. I see you doing all this hard work–”

“Oh, you,” she sneers and grabs the dish cloth from in front of you where it hangs from the oven handle. She whips the end in his direction, “no wonder you and my husband get along.” She snaps him with it again, “you’re a bunch of jackasses.”

He cackles, unbothered by her anger, but retreating nonetheless. You keep your head down and your mother takes another thick gulp. She scoffs.

“Men,” she slurs, “no good. If you won’t listen to me about anything, you take that in, hon. They’re all trash.”

You refuse to look after Mr. Hansen or think about the shadow of his touch on your skin. Men are confusing, that’s enough to keep you away.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #the grey zone #the gray man #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #au #dark fic #dark!fic #series

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blue-sadie · 11 months

Text

Spoiled Brat

Neteyam x Na'vi Reader

Summary: being the center of attention and the biggest spoiled brat neteyam decides to tame

Warning: tail play, spanking, hair pulling, name calling, aged up characters

Yn/3rd person pov

It was pretty obvious how you had everyone in the village wrapped around your finger just by batting your eye lashes you'd have anyone on their knees just by winking at the men you had their hearts.

But their was only one that wasn't fooled by your petty looks and he isn't bothered well you hang on him or your pitiful whining.

"Neteyam" I whined clinging to his arm as he treaded through the forest "no" he muttered shrugging me off of him I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

I huffed before leaving him to get attention from one of the other hunters "hi ryker" I winked sitting infront of him as he was sharpening his arrows.

"Oh hey yn" he smirked laying his stuff down putting all his attention on me "how are ya" he asked putting his hand on my thigh.

I watched from the corner of my eye as neteyams body tensed as ryker leaned into me "wanna go somewhere private" I whispered into his ear lightly nibbling on his earlobe.

"Hell yeah" he growled standing up and pulling me with him but neteyam stood in our way "the hell you going anywhere with her" he huffed pushing ryker away from me.

"Let's go" he hissed pulling me away from ryker and pulled me to the village I bit my lip looking up at him his jaw was clenched and his muscles flexed.

"I've been looking for you" kiri grumbled walking towards us "not now kiri" neteyam growled but she didn't even acknowledge him and pulled me from his hold.

"I finished your outfit for tonight now come on" she said pulling me towards her family hut I looked over my shoulder giggled as neteyam clenched his fists while glaring at me.

"Here it is" she squealed and my jaw dropped "these are just the accessories"

"And this is what your wearing under it"

(You choose)

"Oh wow" I marveled as the crystals gleamed in the light "thank you" I squealed hugging her tightly "well it's not every night you get to choose your mate".

"I'm gonna go try it on" I smiled running into my hut which was next to their because our family's were close friends.

As soon as I got to my room I quickly changed and excited for the outcome "how do I look" I smiled walking out my room.

Kiri and my mom clapped as I twirled "tonight is gonna be amazing" I sung "you look beautiful my dear" my mom smiled as she pushed a strand of hair behind my ear "any man is lucky to have you".

-At The Party-

"Aww thank you arki" I smiled excepting his hand as he lead me through the crowd "you look amazing as always" he beamed back at me as he took me to a small sitting area.

"I was wonde-" "bet it loser" ryker pushed arki out of the way I looked at arki with a sorrowful look "sorry" I mouthed and he just nodded before leaving.

"So we got interrupted early" he said giving me a creepy look "yeah we did" I murmured looking around for neteyam.

"You look beautiful tonight" he growled leaning closer to me I shivered and my breath started to become uneven "have you chosen a mate yet" he said toying with the crystals on my thigh.

"Yes" I said bluntly "who is better then me" ryker seethed taking his hand off my thigh and standing gaining a few peoples attention.

"I'm the best hunter and the best looking" he yelled flexing his muscles before pointing at each man and insulting them personally before moving on to the next.

"And don't get me started with neteyam" ryker laughed dryly as he pointed at neteyam who glared daggers at ryker.

"Who thinks because his dad won the war he can do whatever he wants" ryker shouted walking up to neteyam and pushing his chest.

"Back off" neteyam growled "or what is little neteyam gonna cry to dadd-" ryker was interrupted by neteyam punching him square in the face knocking him to the ground.

"Fuck you" ryker screeched going for neteyams legs causing neteyam to fall and they took turns being on top and punching the other.

"they fight like pussys" kiri muttered standing next to me I only nodded and watched smiling as jake came pulling them apart "clean up duty for 5 months and no flying for 2" he muttered smacking both the boys on the head ryker came towards me but i quickly followed neteyam as he left the party.

"Hey nete" I murmured grabbing his arm but he quickly pushed me off "leave me alone" he growled walking off into the forest "you I'm just trying to help" I yelled causing him to stop.

"Help, help me all you ever do is cause shit for me" he yelled coming towards me "all you even do is cause shit" he pulled at his hair as he came a few inches away from me.

I felt small under his hateful gaze but also kinda excited as I felt myself become damp I quickly closed my eyes and decided to do something reckless and kiss him.

Our lips molded together and I braced for a slap or an insult but it didn't come instead I felt his hand wrap around my body bringing me closer to his He used his tongue to push into my mouth to cause me to moan and try pull away but he held fast and slowly pushed me into a tree "nete" I whined against.

He growled out pulling away before turning me over so my chest was against the tree "you know how long I've wanted to do that" he muttered into my neck as he bit and sucked on the exposed skin I leaned my head back against his shoulder but squealed out as I felt him smack my ass "neteyam" I murmured but he pushed me against the tree.

"This is your punishment for being a spoiled brat" he muttered standing to the side for me "now count for me pretty girl" I gasped as he spanked me again "count" he said firmly "o-one" he spanked me again "two".

"Ten" I cried out that I was finally done "now was that so hard" he smirked wiping the fallen tear of my cheek.

He carefully brought me into his arms before picking me up bridal style "w-where are we g-going" I hiccuped gazing at his face which still kinda was batted and bruised.

"A place where I go to cool off, I need to fix up my face and put ointment on your ass, I wouldn't want to leave such bad bruisingon you".

It was silent the rest of the walk but I cuddled into his chest and felt his heart beating it was carm "I'm sorry about tonight" I murmured making him glance at me "you did nothing ryker should learn his place" he huffed as he wondered into the roots of a big tree "here we are" he said and softly placed me down on my feet.

It was actually quite spacious and had a few things laying around, some chests and a comfy looking hammock.

"So this is were you hide from me" I teased watching him as he opened the chest grabbing a few things he smirked back at me "whatever you say brat" I rolled my eyes at the nickname "now come here" he chuckled and bit his lip as I walked over.

"I gotta say my sister knows how to make the best clothes" he smiled walking behind me "this might be cold ok" he murmured his hand slipped under my skirt and touched my skin and he was right the oil was icey I let out a soft moan as he started to massage the oil into my skin.

He chuckled "save some for later" he growled playfully and gave my ass a slight tap as he pulled away "I might need your help with some of thses" he said walking back over to the oils and wiping his hand off on a towel.

"Where did you get all the oils and stuff" I asked walking over to him and leaning over his shoulder to look at them "kiri she's tought me some of her training" he said looking through the ointments "these are the ones I need help with" he handed me a few bottles and a cloth to help apply them.

"Come sit over here" I murmured walking over to a nice spot so he can sit he walked and sat and stared up at me as I wet the cloth "this might sting a little" I whispered and started lightly dapping the wound on his cheek he hissed at first but eased into it "were you gonna mate with ryked" he asked staring into my eyes.

I shook my head immediately "no fucking ways he's an ass" I muttered moving onto the next cut "so who were you gonna choose" he asked pushing my hand away from his face I looked at him dumbfounded "no I just kissed you for nothing" I said rolling my eyes.

He smirked standing up and putting his hands on my hip before laying his lips on mine, my arms settled on around his neck as his hands moved to my ass "jump" he murmured against my lips I did and wrapped my legs around his waist.

His lips moved to my neck as he took to the hammock and layed down with him beneath me he pulled away "I knew you'd look fucking amazing on top" he grinned making me stick out my tongue and his hands immediately went to undo my clothes "someone's in a rush" I giggled and undid his loincloth cloth.

I gaped at his size "wow" I murmured and watched as he ran it up and down my slight "I want you to sit on it" he growled out putting his hands behind his head watching with lustful eyes, I let out a shakey breathe as I sunk onto his thick cock moans and whimpers leaving my mouth as I began to move.

"Fuck" I moaned putting my hands on his chest to steady myself, I gasped feeling his tail wrap around my neck slightly choking me he chuckled at my struggled moans and gazed up at me with half lidded eyes "ride me bitch" he muttered smacking my thigh I whimpered out as I started to bounce on him "fuck sake" he groaned.

His tail tightened around my neck making my eyes roll "nete" I cried as I started nearing my climax "fuck your clenching around me" he groaned thrusting up into me "fuck gonna cum" I moaned arching my back "cum with me" he yelled out.

My body shook with pleasure as i cam and my eyes flattered as I felt neteyam fill me up his hot cum "neteyam" I murmured breathing heavily as I layed down onto his chest.

"That's my good spoiled brat"

#avatar #avatar pandora #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #avatar x reader smut #avatar smut #neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x na'vi reader #neteyam x na'vi reader smut

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popponn · 8 months

Text

a fool in love. [isagi yoichi x f!reader]

notes: no listen downbad!yoichi is kind of a walking disaster because this is the kind of guy that goes 'oh making you happy makes me happy' and he is mister egoist who goes a bit unhinged whenever he wants something do you get it. it's kind of doomed in a very cute way. (aka this is a fit of madness pt three. the only thing im willing to examine with seriousness here are isagi yoichi's deep blue eyes.)

You knew it wasn’t as if it was a bad thing. But, in a way, as happy as Yoichi makes you—you kind of wish he doesn’t turn off half of his brain when it came to you.

So far, the most often times he could do that was when soccer came up. And most of them ended up with longing stare and him turning his head back one last time as if saying 'sorry'. One time, you actually ended up throwing a snot soaked tissue because he felt bad leaving for practice when you were bedridden with a flu. It was adorable, but honestly a bit pathetic, in a cute way.

Though, those moments are indeed cute when you compared them to the others.

“I’m craving something salty and buttery,” you said at 2.34 am and you had to physically restrain him from cooking for you. Doing that to an athlete on his prime while being half asleep taught your backbone that it was a terrible idea. It made cracking noises for a week straight.

“Oh, that shirt is cute,” you once praised the white t-shirt he wore while lounging around with his friends in the living room. Suddenly, it was his favorite shirt. Last month, thankfully, that old, greying thing was replaced by another t-shirt you bought him before it had seven holes in them.

“God, I fucking hate him,” you would mindlessly comment about someone and Yoichi’s mouth went on a field trip. This happened around way too much already. One time happened when you said this half-jokingly after his match and high adrenaline Yoichi thinking someone genuinely did something to you was a sight. Hot, but unsuited for public consumption.

At this point, you really didn’t want to know what the line was for him outside of his soccer. It also didn’t help that it seems like most of his friends—especially Bachira—are a bunch of shit stirrers who supports him.

“You know, it’s sweet and stuffs,” you sighed, one day, deciding that being honest is the best way to go. “But, I really wonder, why you are like that sometimes?”

Yoichi, who walked beside you whilst pushing the shopping basket in one hand, smiled bashfully. “Uh, well—I got… carried away sometimes?”

“Definitely,” you sent him an unamused glance whilst showing him the shopping list written in his phone. “It’s not that I hate every time you do it. I just want to know why.”

Yoichi laughed nervously at that, averting his eyes away from you as he grabbed a pack of butter from his right. It took him sometime to answer, and as he did so Yoichi’s expression turned nostalgic and fond, “Remember when you said that you wouldn’t want me to lose my focus on soccer even if we are together?”

“Ah.” You did remember it. It was a long conversation that was both necessary and heavy back then. At this moment, though, it became just another chapter in your life with Yoichi.

“Well, I kind of swear to myself after that—” Yoichi stopped walking and turned towards you, looking at you through his blue eyes with many promises and softness. It took everything in you to not hide as he continued, “—that I will make you the happiest person on earth even with everything going on. So, yeah?”

And suddenly, you found yourself very lucky. “Oh.”

“And also, uh, I like how it feels when I spoil you and stuffs…? ” Yoichi murmured almost inaudibly, sounding unsure and embarrassed, before quickly laughing it off in the boyish manner you had came to known since long ago. A hand warped itself around yours and Yoichi smiled, a hint of red still coloring his cheeks, “So, uh. You know.”

Like a second nature, you intertwined your fingers along with him and gave him a smile just as shy and gentle in return, ”…seriously? You do it just because it makes you happy? Now, I’m sad.”

“And now you are just teasing me,” Yoichi replied easily. Then, he leaned his head, peering into his phone in your hand, “What else do we have to buy?”

“Hmm…” you hummed, eyes not turning away from him. “I think we got it all.”

#bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #bluelock x reader #blue lock scenarios #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff #isagi yoichi #isagi fluff #blue lock isagi #blue lock imagines #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #bllk isagi #im a bit unwell for him #please talk isagi to me........someone.... like he is sweet guy who knows what he wants. talk about cute and [redacted]#drabbles

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morallyinept · 5 months

Text

A full transcribe of EZRA'S dialogue/lines from the film PROSPECT.

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

Please also see my Writing For Ezra Guide for further analysis of his character and dialect.

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

__________________

Edited - I've been made aware of some errors since the original posting of this, so I've edited it to correct. Special thanks to those who have let me know! 🖤

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FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

*Fading in* … Curious.

Don't see too many kips around these ways anymore.

Not a kip… a returner!

Is that a serious question?

I believe you, gentle man.

But my partner always needs a little convincing. He'll just kill me, if I let you go without a thorough search. I never caught your name, friend.

Nice to meet you, Damon. I'm Ezra. I can't tell you how refreshing it is… hoo, to encounter another talker. It's been quite some time since we've run into anyone with fluid in motion. Where're you from, Damon?

How poetic. I take it you're a, hmm… floater? Freelancer. You don’t look very Fringely.

Yeah, don’t we all.

Alright, Damon. Understand what, now?

Damon, it has truly been a pleasure, but… pleasantries passed, it's time to gut the fencer. To be completely candid, this haul has proven to disappoint. Me and my partner both feel we deserve… satisfaction. You understand?

So, how did you get here, Damon?

Your ship. Where is it? Or perhaps a ship is a tick too rich for you, a drop pod, I reckon.

Excellent. The starter, if you don't mind.

Where is it? Don't make me root for it, Damon. I guarantee you, I'll make it an unnecessarily painful process.

That is not necessarily true. Nevertheless, continuing within the act of killing is a broad spectrum of technique. So, there is still an incentive for you to acquiesce if that's where you're getting at.

A twist? Go on.

And why would you be so cryptic under rails? You are lucky I am not immune to intrigue. But be careful you don't overplay this technique.

I've seen my share.

That's a theory.

It's funny. I don't see any mercs. Where are they?

Okay. I'd like to believe you. Admittedly, more out of desire than good sense. But Damon… if there is talk of the queen’s lair, the excitement is all but in involuntary.

And there's three of us. We split it in thirds. That's an even split.

This is so exciting!

__________________

What did your outfit look like, back in the day? You've always went solo?

Fancy. We had a full crawling party when we arrived here. Not one of your freighter takes, a testin' screamer.

Mercs in the Green, huh? Last I heard the word "merc" was way back when Crebon raiders hit up all the corporate expeditions.

Caero clan? You friendly with these fellas?

These cables… Goddamn it.

You know, this is something I have never seen in all my time on The Green. A little girl.

Damon, I have clearly underestimated you, I must stop doing that.

Damon… Does this mean that the plan is off? You have me all up and bothered over the queen's lair, Damon.

Alright, you can have your fabled spoils all to yourself. But if your talk of the queen's lair is true… this is just a scratch.

Your girl is scared. You should listen to her. No harm done, yet.

It's a shame, Damon. We could've been rich together.

__________________

You got a field-kit?

Hey! Field-kit!

Are you gonna shoot?

That is… technically true.

Kevva waits, girl! Shoot or help! Just make a move.

Get me a kit and we can talk.

Your offer is indeed generous. Y'know, I'd be more than happy to sign and seal, save for one glaring slip. My ship.

Well I did. Then there was an event with my crew concerned in a bit of Aurelac and… words and metal flew. And now, I don't. We're in the same trough, you and I. Can’t say I was pleased to find your mare all black and cockways as she was supposed to be my redemption as well.

Whoa! Whoa! Just slow down a beat there, little bird. At least wait for the counter-offer.

How is it you intend to get home? That is the goal. Am I right?

The Mercs. They’re real aren’t they? Mmm-hmm. And the queen's lair? Mmm-hmm.

You are making a run for them.

Listen, I know well the lure of vengeance. I myself have… frequently indulged, and I have not often found regret. But in this moment, right here, I'm afraid for both our sakes, I must riposte.

I say, we go to your mercs. I play the prospector. And together we ravage the queen.

Let me help you. I can harvest. I can offer protection. A girl your age, a child, wanders into a camp of fringely mercs, raw. At the end of the tour, what happens? You appeal to their sympathies? They have none. They are ruthless profiteers. You must have something to offer or they will find something to take from you.

That's the fringe, girl. If you're one to point fingers at extortion, well, there's not much I can say.

Now, hold on. I'm keen to make the case that Damon killed himself.

He was trying to steal my trophy case, is what he was trying to do. A man's work is no petty thing. To you, his daughter… I truly apologise for my contribution to his passing. But he was stealing my entire harvest. And actions like these foment the threat of appropriate reactions. Your father knew that, and if didn't, then he had no business in The Green.

I am, indeed. But, are you?

It was all in the name of self-preservation, birdie, it was nothing personal.

I’m your safest route home and in the end we’ll both be rich.

Of course. There is one more thing. My filter's spent. I'm gonna need a hook-up.

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What is your name?

Do you mind if I take a look?

What do you know about these mercs? When did they arrive? How many are there?

He didn’t tell you anything? It's bad practice keeping you in the dark, if you ask me.

A deep partnership is only made so by candid discourse.

Number Two was more of a utility than a partner. And it seems like your father treated you the same way.

What's your name?

Well, I have to call you something.

Oi, Number Three. Watch that tube, girl. Straight finger.

Thank you.

If you don't know the thing about channel rats, is when they fornicate, they excrete a hormone substance - I don't really know what it's called - but it's uncannily sticky, it cocks up electrics. And it smells exactly like, but significantly more potent than, stale human urine.

Anyways, we stripped every panel in that ship. We clubbed those rat beavers to death. Two at a time. It was a toilsome marathon of carnage. We never did find the nest.

You know, eventually, you're gonna have to trust me.

Just give me a moment.

You should keep the thrower low, we could be surrounded.

I said, keep it low.

Don't show any sign of aggression. Drop it. Put your hands above your head.

Just do it.

Just do it! Now!

We have to follow him. The wound would appear… ideal bite. It still has some venom. The dust. It’s found its way in and now it festers. The Sater are religious settlers and tedious scavengers. They should be amenable to trade for medical supplies.

We don’t have a choice.

Shoot me, then.

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(Greets in Sater language) I have sustained a wound that, due to inadequate treatment, now festers pink. I was hoping you had some juice?

Thank you, sir. We are tremendously grateful.

I thought perhaps it might interest you for trade.

A wise and understandable measure. We shall stow them at our discretion and return shortly, unarmed. Is that acceptable to you and your colleagues?

Here.

__________________

That was beautiful.

Juice. It's good for you, cleanses the dust.

Thank you for your kindness. Now, as you can see, I have sustained a trauma to my shoulder. I would much like to flush it with your magic juice. And to keep straight… we would also be very much interested in proper dressing, and filter refreshers, if you have them and can spare them? In return for your gracious offering, we are prepared to compensate with generosity in equal measure.

I'm sorry, I don't understand.

That is a bold offer.

What do you need her for?

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(Ezra’s radio transmission) Hello! Hello to the green! I got… *inaudible*... I got one or two fourteen grade root pearls that I'm willing to part with for well over the peakest of rush rates. Nothing funny. Just a desperate man trying to make a bad deal with the right hold out. If anyone is out there, don't hesitate to click on...

Take your helmet off.

You look like shit. Eat it. There’s cases of 'em in here.

Here. I need your help.

After you left, those Sater weren't too keen on helping me out… So I had to treat myself. I botched the excision. I was unable to clean and scrape the blackness. Now if I don't lose my arm, it'll kill me. And I can't perform the procedure by myself.

No.

You ever use one of these before? It's easy. Prime it like this… then there are five levels of intensity. Two for the flesh, four for bone. You got it?

Thank you.

I won't feel a thing. Hack away. Quick, confident strokes are best. Try to go full circuit on the first cut.

I've never had to use these surettes before. Kind of nice… tingling, almost like… oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit!

Oh, shit. Oh, shit, oh, shit.

No, I don’t know. Keep going, you're doing great. Keep going until you hit bone.

I’m gonna miss him. My primary weapon, been with me my whole life. Always there, ready to help, no job too gritty, no love too intimidating.

Up to four, as soon as it's off, give my stump a hearty coat in the juice and cream it all shut! Clear?

How are you so calm? You've done this before.

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So, where’s home?

Spoken like a true floater. What's that book you carry around?

"Streamer Girl"?

You wrote a novel?

There's not a lot of literature in circulation out here.

Well, it seems I must.

You memorised it?

Not at all. It's quite impressive.

Focus on what?

Well, you can't… you can't think like that. You go down that path, it's not good. If you need someone to blame, you blame me. You need to think about your next move. Be on that freighter in a tick.

It’s nice to meet you, Cee.

__________________

Well. There's our ride.

Stay clear and close and I’ll talk us through. When it comes time to dig, I’ll need you to be sharp. I've never harvested one-handed before. I'm gonna need some help. But we'll keep it creamy and it’ll all be fine.

Damon, here for the dig. You wouldn't believe the time we’ve had of it, getting here. I wholeheartedly apologise for being late. But after the storm tidied us off mark, we were already a cycle back and naturally-

I wholeheartedly apologize. You wouldn't believe…

Well, actually… uh, before we get started. I'm afraid I must interject. I haven't been completely candid with you yet. After an erring landing and toilsome trick, there is one more significant detail to our story, one that forces us to leverage our talents for little bit more than the agreed upon price.

It's not more of a cut we're after. The points are more than adequate payment for the two of us. Rather it's a means of transit we lack.

Well, now, what she means to say is that while transport is a requisite part of the deal, we are willing to forgo two points. Which by any reckoning is exorbitant compensation for a hop into orbit.

Oh, come now. In a prize… Scrap well over the weight of the passenger and a half. Cargo braces. That's one hundred, one-thirty right there.

You're not understanding me. Everything has changed. If you're not willing to scrap payload, scrap crew for all I care, but you'll find a way, if you want that buried treasure.

I am the gatekeeper to more wealth than any of us have ever seen, and you've been wasting in The Green for far too long to let that slip away. I'm afraid, I am the only means to the successful end of your venture. And I say the terms have changed. Thirteen, plus a ride for me and my partner on your handsome craft or no deal. Find a way.

My boy, this is a winner! I think a little back up thrust is an easy drop under the circumstances. What do you say, boss?

Gentlemen. And women… Let's get rich!

__________________

Strange method for an execution. What did this fella do to land him in the box?

How convoluted!

Somebody ought to give her a go.

That's the price for a dry breach. But my chem will calm the brine.

Hello, sweetheart.

It's a big one.

You got it? Hold it nice and tight.

Hold it like you love it.

Oh. That's perfect.

Slippery son of a bitch.

No, no, no. Shit!

Not to worry, we go again.

(Muttering to self) *Inaudible* (?)leech on the(?) …cock spitters … cannot fuck more nuggets in this sleep for snatch, pearls…

It's a little difficult to carve weak-handed!

Now hold on!

Those shots will bring the rest of ‘em in.

I don’t know.

Greedy fool! Couldn't help himself. Took a stumble, getting a closer look. Now, time presses and I am gonna need assistance if we're-

Go, go, go!

Move!

I'm out.

If we uncouple you can run a distraction, opening me up for the backstab.

Are you sure?

You run fast and you don’t stop. You keep plenty of trees between you and her. You come straight back here as soon as I make the kill so we can re-couple. Clear?

You need to go. You grab the gun and you go. You can make it.

Get outta here!

__________________

DELETED SCENE:

What is your name?

Well, I have to call you something.

Once, a long time ago, there was a channel rat. Well, first there was an entire nest. Caulked up in the floorboards of my skimmer, this was back when I was running catkins with my brother in Parson.

If you don’t know, thing about channel rats, is when they fornicate, they excrete a hormone substance - I don’t remember what it's called - but the relevant details are that it is uncannily sticky, it cocks up electrics, and it smells exactly like, but significantly more potent than, stale human urine.

So, this horny cohort is scrambling around unseen, plastering up my walls with their piss paste, and the smell… was so horrific. And we had to wear nuke suits all the time, even when we slept.

So, after we exhausted our repertoire of civilised extermination methods, it soon devolved into barbarism.

We stripped every panel in that ship and clubbed those rat beavers to death, two at a time. It was a toilsome marathon of carnage. But the bag of corpses steadily grew heavier.

We never did find the nest. But by the end of the run, we were down to what as far as we could tell was the last rat standing. This little bitch waits until we make ground fall, saunters into the galley, climbs up onto the table, and I spin you not, stands right up on its hind legs and starts calmly munching on a piece of bush bread.

Maybe it was our impending reunion with civilization, or maybe it was exhaustion, but neither of us could bring ourselves to bash that last channel rat. So we just sat there and watched it eat the entire biscuit.

When it was done, it walked over to the airlock, waited at the hatch as if it expected us to just open it, so we did. And then walked out.

You remind me of that channel rat, so in the absence of a given moniker, I will now call you Channel Rat.

Number Three it is.

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#ezra prospect #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #ezra prospect 2018 #prospect film #prospect 2018 #ezra dialogue

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saetoru · 2 years

Text

SPOILED PRINCESS — IMAUSHI WAKASA.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ imaushi wakasa x reader — 2.3k words — wakasa thinks you act a bit too bratty for attention

≣ contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, jealous! wakasa (of benkei), (slightly) insecure! wakasa, semi public sex (in the gym after hours), he sucks your tits bc that's what i want you deserve, begging, unprotected sex, creampie, use of pet names (princess + baby (and brat lol))

≣ notes ⋮ idk everyone always writes shin jealous of waka, but i present to you all: waka jealous of benkei. anyway i am so ill over him i would eat my own liver for one chance with him

“are you done yet?” you whine, and wakasa is sure that this much eye twitching must be bad for his well-being. if he’s being honest, he’s sure you must be bad for his well-being at this rate.

“no,” he grunts, continuing with his paperwork.

wakasa figures running a gym is as lucky of a job as he’ll get. he’s passionate about fighting, even if he doesn’t always seem it—and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t think he can ever forget his glory days. he doesn’t think he can ever move on from the fights and the rush of adrenaline, so he stays as close to fighting as he can, even if it means running a gym—but paperwork always comes with owning an establishment, and he’s no exception.

you, on the other hand, seem to hope he is.

“waka, you said fifteen minutes,” you grumble, “and that was forty minutes ago.”

“it’s taking longer than i expected,” he grunts.

“then save it for another—“

“babe,” he grits his teeth, making you pause as you hear the warning tone in his voice. it makes you pout, crossing your arms as you huff and turn your nose away from him. “i have to finish these papers.”

“fine, i’ll bug benkei then,” you grumble. you’re petulant in your tone, it doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but he doesn’t say anything as you march out of his office.

at least he’s granted some peace—and fewer distractions as he works means working faster, which means more time with you.

but then he hears it. it’s quiet at first, he doesn’t seem to notice as he speeds through his papers, but there’s the sound of your giggles that has to be exaggerated. he scoffs, eye twitching before he slams his pen down and wanders off to the gym, eyes instantly finding you, boring into your figure as he watches you grin down at benkei.

“now you’re just showing off,” you shake your head, and wakasa’s vein all but pops as you stare at benkei’s arms as he bench presses…whatever insane weight he can bench press.

wakasa has a soft spot for his friend, he really does—but he can’t help the bitterness creeping up and hunching over his shoulders, weighing him down as he watches you enjoy your time with his friend. and being impressed, no less.

“you’re the one who bet i couldn’t handle the weight,” benkei chuckles, curling his arms up and down with ease, making wakasa’s lips purse unhappily.

why do you look so happy to be occupied by benkei of all people? why are you so shocked a man his size can handle that much weight anyway? wakasa has never been too jealous…but benkei, benkei is a sore spot.

there’s something gnawing at him—something heavy and weighted and spiteful that the same man he once rivaled is the same man you’ve chosen to spend your time with while he’s busy.

“it was a joke,” you snort, “you seem like you have something to prove, though—” you’re cut off by the clearing of your boyfriend’s throat, making you turn your head at him, brows raised like you weren’t expecting his intrusion.

the idea that he’s intruding on a moment between another man and his girlfriend leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

“thought you were heading out,” wakasa eyes benkei, watching as the bar gets set down before his friend sits up.

“i was,” benkei nods, “until someone whined about being bored,” you have the audacity to look sheepish when benkei gives you a pointed look, making wakasa’s teeth grit. “you’ve got a handful with this one.”

“yeah, seems like it,” wakasa grunts. if benkei notices the slight hostility in wakasa’s tone, he chooses not to mention it. instead, he rises, offering a good-natured smile before flicking your forehead gently—a gesture that makes wakasa clench his jaw.

“well, see you both tomorrow,” benkei waves off before making his exit, leaving your attention to fall on your evidently unhappy boyfriend. you raise a brow, making your way over as your thumb runs over his tightened jaw.

“you seem tense,” you mumble gently, “waka, what’s wrong?”

“what’s wrong?” he raises a brow, making your hand retract with a slight flinch at the sharpness of his tone.

wakasa doesn’t think he’s a guy who lacks confidence—in fact, he likes to think he’s a rather self-assured guy. he’s never lacked attention, never doubted his appeal or his charm, never had trouble getting the attention he craves should he crave it at all. but something about you feels different—something in him yearns to be more than a pretty face, something important.

and benkei is gentle, soft and comforting under the exterior, someone who can carefully cradle you like a jewel in the palm of his hand. wakasa isn’t sure if he can compete with that—as much as he hates the thought. there’s a small ounce of guilt that pangs in his chest for doubting you—you who cups his face like he’s the earth’s core under your palm, you who kisses his nose like he’s warm rays of sunlight against your lips, you who offers him love even if you have to peel away layers of yourself to give him what you think he deserves.

so he grunts, eyeing you with a lazy glare that makes your head tilt in confusion.

“baby, you’re—”

“want me to call benkei back so he does some push-ups? maybe he’ll let you sit on his back,” he grumbles, jealousy seeping through his words before he can stop the flow. you have the audacity to chuckle, like this is funny, like it’s nothing serious.

“so you do have a jealous side. good to know,” you tease, pinching his cheek. he grunts, swatting your hand away as he glowers at you, taking a step back when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. “don’t be stubborn,” you furrow your brows, “it was just benkei. he’s your friend—”

“don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” he shoots back, “need my attention so bad, huh? well, you got it,” he growls.

wakasa’s lips are on yours before you even have a chance to process his words—they hungrily devour you like he’s a starved man, lost in his own deprivation. you can only gasp against his mouth as he nibbles and sucks on your bottom lip, pressing his firmly against you like he’s knitting himself along your seams.

“w-waka, someone could—”

“we’re closed,” he cuts you off, hand snaking up your shirt to knead your breasts. you gasp, fingers curling tightly around the fabric of his shirt as his lips wander to your neck, sucking sweetly along your pulse point.

“but the sign hasn’t been—”

“don’t care,” he says simply, “gonna fuck the brat right outta you,” he speaks lowly against your ear, making you shiver as he reminds you, “you wanted this.”

you did want this—you just figured it’d be in the comforts of your own home. but there’s something uncharacteristically needy in his demeanor, something that makes it hard for you to deny him. so with a shaky moan, you tilt your head to give him more access to your neck, letting him scatter wet kisses along your skin and suck marks where he pleases.

you’re not sure when he even stripped you of your clothes, his movements a blur as he has you sprawled against the same bench benkei laid just moments ago, hovering over you and raking his eyes over your bare chest. his lips latch onto your nipple in an instant, making you gasp as your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging at the strands when his tongue rolls over the pebbled bud. you whine when his hand cups your other tit, thumb running over your nipple before squeezing it.

“waka,” you moan, hips bucking up to rub against his clothed erection. he groans against your chest, slotting a knee between your legs and giving you a small bit of the friction you crave. “p-please—”

“please what,” he raises a brow, “you were whining my ear off just a bit ago. use your words now.”

there’s a whimper caught in your throat when his fingers press against your heat through your underwear, thumb rubbing circles over your clothed clit and making you huff frustratedly for more. a small part of him feels satisfaction that he’s able to rile you up with so little.

“please waka,” you pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to him. your lips are right against the shell of his ear as you speak, “please fuck me—wanna feel you,” you whisper, hips rubbing against his straining cock once more.

with a groan, he slides your underwear down your legs, freeing his pulsing cock from the confinements of his boxers. your hand reaches to wrap around his length, smearing the pre cum around the tip before stroking him slowly, pulling a low groan from him as his head falls to your shoulder. turning, you press a gentle kiss to the side of his head, squeezing around his tip as you stroke your fist up his length. you drag your fist along his cock a few more times before he stops you, forehead pressing against yours as he looks at you with hooded eyes.

“you’re fuckin’ mine,” he says lowly before bringing the blunt head of his cock to your dripping entrance, sliding along your walls and collecting your slick along his tip. you whine, head falling back against the bench as your legs wrap around his waist.

“yours—all yours. please, n-need you, waka,” you plead, and with a low chuckle, you feel his cock inch past your folds, curving into you perfectly as he bottoms out. you groan into each other’s mouths, panting through labored breaths as he gives you a moment to adjust.

each roll of his hips feels like electricity running up your veins, making your hips cant up and meet his thrusts and your hands fist his long tresses, tugging at the roots when he angles his hips and slams against your sweet spot. you feel his thick veins glide against your walls, adding to the friction of his cock bullying into you slowly, hard and deliberate.

“this what you wanted?” he coos, grabbing your cheeks with one hand and squeezing them together, grinning down at you as he takes in the fucked out expression on your face and the haziness of your eyes, “wanted me to fuck you in my own gym? drop everything to make you cum, huh? ‘s that why you were whinin’ so much?”

“wak—oh, fuck,” you gasp, mewling when his other hand travels between your bodies to harshly thumb your clit, making the steady ache to your orgasm build. he hisses as you clamp around him, the warmth of your walls encasing him like a tight hug, your slick coating his thick girth as the squelching sound of him fucking into you echoes through the empty gym.

“what, you can’t speak, baby?” he grunts, thrusting sharply into you, making you sob as tears cling to your lashes. he’s cruel with his pace, not faltering in his movements as the fat tip of his cock kisses your spot over and over again. “so fuckin’...s-spoiled—like getting fucked like you’re spoiled?”

“‘kasa ‘m close,” you whimper, making him growl against your jaw as he nips at the skin. he’s sucked enough spots into your flesh to make him grin down at you satisfied, eyeing the marks with a pleased glint in his eyes.

“yeah, i bet you are,” he grins, “cause i know how to fuck this pussy, don’t i? anyone else make you feel like this? hmm?” his thumb presses down on your clit harder, making you cry out as you pull at the strands of hair combed through your fingers.

“no, jus’ you—jus’ you, waka,” you wail, making him hum with a satisfied grin.

“sound so pretty when you’re crying for me,” he groans, hips rutting sloppily against you as he approaches his high, breath heavy as he pants against the crook of your neck, burying his head against you as he lets out a needy moan. “sound even better when you’re cumming—gonna cum for me, princess? let go, baby.”

his words are enough to make your lips part with a silent scream as you cum, hard. your hands trail to his shoulders, nails digging into the skin as you gush around his cock, making him groan brokenly as your walls spasm around him. he’s panting erratically into your neck by now, but a needier part of him forces himself to wrench away and stare at the way your face breaks with pleasure. he groans at the sight, voice cracking as he grunts your name when his own orgasm crashes over him in waves.

“f-fuck, baby—feel so good,” he rasps, “shit, ‘s so good.”

you feel the warmth of his cum spilling into you, each hot rope painting your wall with every twitch of his cock, his hips desperately rolling to fuck you through your peaks. you feel his arms tremble as he hovers over you before he collapses onto your body with a soft moan as he finishes.

you let his face dig back into your neck, humming quietly when his plants a light peck into your skin.

“i like when you’re jealous,” you say cheekily, “we get to do this.”

“i hate when you’re a fuckin’ brat,” he grumbles, “don’t talk to benkei. he’s weird and annoying.”

“that makes two of you.” you giggle when you feel him bite at your shoulder lightly, hand threading through his sweaty locks as the other runs along his bare back in slow circles. the bitterness in his mouth from earlier dissipates as the honey trickles through his lips when you pull his face to give him a sweet kiss. “but you don’t have to be jealous,” you murmur softly, “i love you. even if you ignore me.”

“love you too. even though you don’t shut the fuck up.”

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#thirsts.#wakasa x reader #wakasa smut #wakasa x you #imaushi wakasa x reader #imaushi wakasa x you #imaushi wakasa smut #wakasa x y/n #tr x reader #tr x you #tr smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers smut #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #tokrev x you

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