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slushycoookie · 15 days

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My Husband Has a Symbiote! Pt.3

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3

Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: Mentions of infertility, slight angst, Miguel shows off his geneticist side, Rough sex, Minors DNI!!

Summary: After months of Miguel having the symbiote, it's not working like you thought it would.

A/N: It took me eons to write this part but I'm back! We only have a few more parts of this story before I move on to something else. Enjoy!

You never thought you’d be sitting at the table with an alien. Although, a few years ago, you didn’t think you’d be married to a superhero. Now look at you. Eyeing the symbiote’s head across the table, drinking hot chocolate. You didn’t want to leave them out as they had cups of coffee. And you heard they like chocolate.

“Does it even have a name?”

Miguel and his symbiote looked at each other, “We aren’t really on a first-name basis.”

“You mean, you let this thing fuse with you and you don’t know its name?” You held back smacking your forehead. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“I am.” Your husband reassured you, “Their name is Ravage. I didn’t name them that, they did.” You watch the alien smile, sharp teeth in clear view.

“Why Ravage?”

Ravage uses a tendril to imitate shrugging, “It sounds cool.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“How long were you planning on keeping them?”

“Until you get pregnant.” Miguel explained, “I wasn't planning on keeping them forever.”

You folded your arms, “And what were you going to do with them once I got pregnant?” You raised a brow at his delayed response. The symbiote wasn’t saying anything either, waiting for Miguel to answer.

“Find a new host was a general idea. But you don’t need to worry about that.” You wanted to ask more questions but he held your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze, “Let’s keep trying.”

You squeezed his hand back, your lips forming into a smile. You absolutely wanted to keep trying but thought it was good to set some ground rules. As much as you enjoyed having sex with him every day, you still had lives. You agreed to indulge in the baby-making process around ovulation periods to give the highest possible chance of conception. If either of you were in a particular mood, it was okay too.

After having the conversation, sex with the symbiote was stress-free. You took the enlarged cock with ease, got filled with his seed, and relaxed right after. It was nice at first. But the results weren’t there.

No clear signs of pregnancy after a few months of Miguel obtaining Ravage. You thought you weren't having normal symptoms outside of the usual fatigue and aching joints. So you bought a pregnancy test. Only to be disappointed as the single line appeared in your vision. Pregnancy tests weren’t always accurate so you asked Lyla to conduct a scan on you.

Only for you to come up short.

Before Miguel’s newfound symbiote friend, you were trying to have a baby for eight months. You all did research. You knew it could take a while for conception to take place. Yet, it’s been almost a year, and no progress.

Hopelessness clouded over your mind. Thoughts began to settle in, accusing yourself of the reason why you couldn’t get pregnant. It was all your fault. Miguel said it would be difficult, not impossible. But that’s what it felt like. Impossible.

The thoughts wouldn’t go away. Not as Miguel’s lips peppered your neck, hands fondling your soft thighs. Ready to go for a round in their bedroom after a long day at work. In any other situation, you would’ve felt good. But all you could focus on was being a failure.

“I missed you today…” Miguel’s low tone resonated in your ears. A gentle squeeze on your breast as he continued to your shoulder, tugging on the collar of your shirt for more access to your skin. “Did you miss me?”

You hummed in response, raising your arms for him to remove your shirt. Your stomach twisted at his loving gaze on your naked top half. You knew he loved you. Yet, you were torturing him by not being able to provide what he wanted.

“You okay?”

You blinked, realizing you weren't reciprocating. “Yeah. I’m fine.” You kissed him, distracting yourself with the unnecessary thoughts. Not wanting to succumb to them as you were laid flat on your back. Hands moving from under his shirt to lift it over his head. You focused on his lips moving down your body. Open-mouth kisses covering your upper half.

“Can't wait until these are full of milk…” Miguel said, running his tongue over the swell of your breasts. “Getting ready for our baby…”

You shuddered as his tongue ran over your nipple, sucking on your breast while fondling the other.

All you thought of was you were trying for nothing. This will be another session that will lead you to not getting pregnant. Another disappointing endeavor. Because of you. All because of you.

“Nena?” He called, causing you to perk up. You were doing it again. Not reacting.

“Yeah?”

“Didn’t you hear me?”

You blinked, “Oh, I'm sorry. What did you say?”

Miguel hovered above you, eyes searching your face. “Nothing. Are you sure you're okay? Did something happen at work?”

“No, no I'm fine.” You cradled his face in his hands, giving him another kiss. “Really.”

He sighed, leaning back and pulling her towards him. You were held in his arms, sheltering you from the outside world. “You're not fine. You're thinking. And with your face, I know it's not good.”

Curse your husband for knowing you so well.

“It's nothing you need to worry about.” You buried your face in his hairy chest. Hearing him suck his teeth.

“I always worry about you when something’s wrong.” The hold on you tightened in reassurance. “Now tell me.”

You struggled, fighting back the tears. “This isn't working. None of this.”

“What? Baby, we did know this was going to take a while.”

“I know, but-” Your breath stuttered, cheeks getting wet, “I'm letting you down. I just can't seem to get pregnant.”

Miguel shook his head, pulling you away to assess the damage. He wiped away your tears, using his shirt to remove the incoming snot. “Don't say that. If anything, it's my fault. My sperm isn't doing a good job. With or without the symbiote.”

“You're not the one with an infertile diagnosis…” You harshly laughed, blinking more tears away.

He helped you put on your shirt. “I don't like when you're upset. You know that, right?” You nodded. “We have to keep trying. And if it doesn't work, then we have other options. Like adoption.”

You watched your husband lay beside you, a strong arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. Your head on his chest, his lips kissing your hair. He was right, there were other options. But you couldn't be comfortable with not trying anything you could. Before giving up.

“You could use me.”

Ravage's head hovered above your body in bed. Your eyes darted to Miguel’s sleeping form, unsure if you should wake him. Wait, what did they say? “I could…use you?”

“Yes.” Their smile may appear sadistic if it was anyone else. You kind of saw them as being genuine, “We can fix you. Cure you.”

“Can you? I didn't know symbiotes could do that.”

“Your husband failed to spare the details.” They went closer, you getting to see his intense eyes. “We make everything better. From physical to genetic…” Goosebumps formed on your skin as he emphasized the last word. There had to be a catch.

“If you knew this, why didn't you latch on to me and do it already? Like that time at the lab?”

Ravage huffed with frustration, “We need someone willing. You wanted us to that time. We could do it by force but then…” He trailed off, hoping you would get the idea. You knew if that happened Miguel would be on the alien in a heartbeat. If you were to consider it, he'd have to know. It is your symbiote now too. It wouldn't hurt to share.

“No, absolutely not.”

Miguel declined when you brought it up during dinner the next day. You had to sit with the idea yourself before bringing it up to him. Understand the pros and cons of letting a foreign entity connect with you. You weren't a spider-person either. No superpowers or anything to help you resist. You'd be going in completely vulnerable.

Of course, he wouldn't like it.

“Why?” You asked, “It could fix what I have going on with me.”

“It's only temporary.” Miguel warned, “Once you part with it, it's only a matter of time before what you have comes back. Maybe even worse than before.”

“Okay, but once I get pregnant, it won't matter anymore.”

His brows furrowed, “This is an alien we're talking about here. That's fusing with you. It's dangerous.”

“You didn't ask for my permission when you fused with it! Why should I ask for yours?”

“Because this is different. I'm Spider-Man, you're not.”

You rolled your eyes, “Now, we're having this conversation again?” Miguel huffed, face lowered as he went silent, focusing on his meal. You hated it when he stopped talking in the middle of an important conversation. You usually understood and were patient, but now you couldn't hold your tongue. “If I had powers, would you consider it?”

“No.” He said, his voice strained.

“Then what difference does it make?”

“Because you’re my partner.” Miguel stared at you, hard red eyes into your soul. The grip on his fork was strong enough for him to bend it, holding back his true feelings. “I don't want anything to happen to you. Symbiotes are unpredictable. Dangerous. I'd rather put myself through that and not you.”

“That’s not fair. We’re supposed to be a team.” His face softened as you gazed at him with soft eyes.

“We are.”

Miguel stood, not wanting the rest of his dinner. He mutters about finishing up some work at HQ, making a portal before disappearing behind it. Leaving you to clean up. You weren't diminishing his protests. The idea of dealing with symbiotes was scary, especially with someone who hasn’t used them before. You thought it wouldn’t hurt to try.

But now your husband was angry. He was going to avoid the topic now until you couldn’t take the silence anymore. At least that’s what you thought.

The next morning he came to you, eyes heavy from lack of sleep. A lab coat over his spider suit. To say the words you never thought he’d say.

Let’s do it.

His hair was messy, like his actions as he paced in his lab. You saw multiple images presented by Lyla to support his theory. None of it made sense. You weren't a scientist. But he mentioned how it can be possible as long as you set some ground rules. Control the environment so things won’t get out of hand. And you wouldn’t get hurt.

Your heart squeezed as he rambled, the geneticist side coming out in full force. “You stayed up all night thinking about this, didn’t you?”

“Of course.” Miguel quickly said, his cheeks flushed. “I love you.”

You cradled his face in your palms, thumbs rubbing his cheeks with affection. “I love you too.”

To be cautious, Miguel wanted to test how you reacted to the symbiote. He wanted to monitor you for 24 hours. He first suggested locking you up in the lab so he could be close by but you weren't having that. You decided that staying home and doing your usual tasks would be good enough. Miguel wasn’t a huge fan but he shut up after a few kisses.

You weren't sure how you'd react to the symbiote. If you would feel a drastic difference compared to your normal self. So when Ravage attached to your body, there wasn’t a dramatic shift. No change. Only that they were there. A niggling on the back of your head. It wasn’t annoying, but it would take a while to get used to.

You did everything as normal. Freshened up and grabbed a cup of coffee. Until your mug snapped.

You shrieked at the sudden action, your coffee on the floor, hot droplets on your hand. Miguel was watching you because he called through your watch right away.

“Are you okay?”

You started wiping up your mess, “I’m fine. It just happened so quickly.” Your brows furrowed while sweeping the broken contents. You’d never snapped a mug like that before. Was it because of Ravage?

“It’s the symbiote.” Miguel confirmed, “By enhancing you, it also applies to your physical traits.” Oh right, Ravage did mention that.

You stared at your hands. “Does that mean I have powers?”

“Kind of…Like I said, it’s only temporary.” Right. You shouldn’t get excited. All of this was temporary. “I’d watch your grip.”

You resorted to handling things with your fingers, willing yourself to touch them with the lightest of touch. You understood how Miguel felt about his abilities. If you moved your arm wrong, you’d probably break something. Or someone.

“I’m hungry.” Ravage’s voice resonated in your head.

That was another thing you had to get used to. Every time they spoke, their words would rumble through your body. Prickling your skin in an uncomfortable way that was also satisfying. And no one else could hear them besides you.

“You’re always hungry.” You commented while pulling out a bar of dark chocolate. You broke up the bar into smaller pieces, feeding it to them. “How many times did Miguel have to feed you?”

“Many times.” They said, chomping on another piece. “We don’t just need chocolate to feed.”

You purse your lips, “I’m not feeding you brains.” You gave them a look as they scowled, angrily eating his last piece of chocolate.

“We’re not talking about that. Sex should suffice.”

You perked up, “What?”

“You heard us. Intercourse staves us for a while.”

“Sex is nourishing for you?”

“We didn’t say that. We just like it.”

That explains why Miguel kept wanting to have sex with you. A lot.

“We can’t though. Knowing Mig, he’d want to wait until 24 hours are up.”

“Sex does involve said participants to be next to each other, right?” Their eyes raised in question, “It shouldn't be a problem.”

“No. Not until 24 hours are up.” That's what you said, but it wasn’t what you were thinking. You'd admit getting impatient. You wanted to see if this crazy plan would work. After months of trying and failing, you were tired of waiting. Why couldn't you make love to your husband now to see what happens?

Thoughts kept running rampant as you couldn't sleep. You wanted him to pull you in close, get on top, and have his way with you. You placed a hand on top of his own that rested on your stomach. Your ass, only covered by shorts, started to rub against his lower half. Miguel wasn’t asleep yet when his hand gripped your shirt, a groan slipping out.

“What are you doing?”

You kept going at that same agonizing pace. “Thinking…”

“About?” He made no moves to have you stop, only having a death grip on your shirt.

“How horny I am right now.”

Miguel’s breath quickened at the faster pace. On instinct, he pulled you closer, the large hand splayed across your belly. But he suddenly had a moment of clarity as he pulled back.

“No, it hasn't been 24 hours yet.”

You held back a smirk at how you could feel his cock getting hard against your bottom. “You can still watch me while you fuck me.”

You maneuvered to get back in your original position but he stopped you. “Sorry, I really don't want any surprises.” He gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead before turning over to try and sleep, which may take a while due to his current state.

That's fine, you could wait.

You made arousing your husband your mission. Showering with him, making sure his entire body was clean before work by running the washcloth over his body. Making out with him with the towels loosely hanging from your bodies. You felt Miguel’s muscles tense from every seductive touch. His eyes were hard on you as he knew what you were doing but didn't press further.

You stole another kiss before he went to work, tongue sliding across his own with fervor. When you parted, he took a long, deep breath.

“Me vas a matar (You’re gonna kill me)…” He muttered.

“I love you too.” You waved him goodbye when he disappeared.

Ravage’s pleased hum once again filled your body, “We are enjoying the teasing. But when do we play?”

“Be patient.”

30 minutes until the 24-hour surveillance was up. How convenient it was also around the time you ate lunch with him.

You arrived, displaying a casual demeanor when meeting up with Miguel at his lab. He was rightfully cautious as you walked side by side to the cafeteria. You had sent him a naughty text not too long ago. Everything was okay. Cool and casual. Right until you locked eyes with the broom closet.

With your newfound strength, you opened the door, grabbed your husband, and launched him inside.

The cleaning supplies shook from the force as you closed the door and locked it. Miguel didn’t have time to protest as your lips pressed against his in a rush. Filled with need and wanting. His hands gripped your sides, a groan escaping as he gently pushed you away.

“We have about 24 minutes and 15 seconds until-” You kissed him again and he reciprocated it. He pulled your body close to his, devouring each other in the embrace. But Miguel was such a stickler as he pulled away again. “We should wait-”

“Ravage hasn’t done anything these past 23 hours. If they wanted to, they would’ve.” You pushed him down to the floor, seeing the hunger rising in his eyes. Your stomach fluttered at his gaze, sitting down on his lap. “Now fuck me.”

Miguel didn’t need to be told twice. He kissed you again, a tight hold on your hips as he rolled his own against you. It didn’t take long for him to get hard, ready to release what you had started since last night. You were as desperate as him as hands tore through your clothes. You couldn’t be upset, as you sunk down on his length.

The entire act was filthy as Miguel gripped your plump cheeks while he thrusted up into you. A death grip on your flesh so you couldn’t escape. Rough enough to where the entire room started to shake. His head was deep between your breasts, whining about how good you felt. So good that you could feel the slight prick from his talons. They weren’t fully out, thank goodness, but enough to knead your soft flesh.

It didn’t take long for your climax to arrive. Your warm walls clenched against his length, inviting him to fill your insides. His warm seed coated you as his body stilled.

“Good. Very good.”

You heard Ravage as you gave Miguel another kiss. You weren't exhausted, your body sturdy enough to go for many more rounds. You were never like this before. Miguel had enough stamina to go all night if he could. But you were only capable of a few before passing out from exhaustion. Not this time.

Miguel picked you up and went home, completely neglecting his duties. Ravage started to take over, forming a second skin around your body. No one cared as you locked yourselves in the bedroom.

Miguel pressed you against the bed, bottom raised while he pounded into you. The entire room quaked under his rough thrusts as you were pinned against the wall. Bite marks covered your skin as you subdued him, locking hands and riding him until he saw heaven. Droplets of cum dripped out of you, only to be pushed back in by his large fingers.

You didn’t know how long you were going until you saw the clock. Being almost eight in the morning. Your head was hazy from the constant lovemaking. Heavy snores filled the room as you looked over, seeing Miguel sleeping on his stomach while tangled in the bedsheets. The sun peeked through the curtains and it was too much sunlight to your liking so you went up to close them. Your body felt heavy but also oddly satisfied. This must be the perk of having a symbiote.

“That was fun.” Ravage chittered, pleasure once again seeping through your body. “When can we play again?”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #slushycoookie writes

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stayteezdreams · 4 months

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Eggnog Confession

Plot: While at a Christmas party, San drinks a little too much spiked Eggnog. Now he can't keep his thoughts, or secrets to himself.

Pairing: Choi San x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of drinking/alcohol. Drunk!San. Drunk!Confession. Embarrassed San. "Spiked" Drink in reference to the eggnog being alcoholic without San's knowledge.

Words: 2.8k

You grunted in frustration as you finally got to your apartment door. Your arm and shoulder was aching as San was leaning on you with nearly his full weight. He hummed Christmas songs under his breath as you pulled your key from your bag and unlocked your door.

At first you had every intention of taking him back to his dorm, but your place was closer, and you were already tired. Not just from the Christmas party, but the event in itself of taking care of a drunk San.

You wish you had learned he had drank so much eggnog earlier than you did. By the time you found him he was long-gone. After some pleading from the others who wished to stay at the party a little longer, you ended up being the one to take him home.

"Okay, come on."

San groaned as he drug his feet alongside you. As he mumbled something unintelligible, you frowned.

"What?"

Lifting his head, his hot breath fanned your ear as he spoke again. "You're so beautiful. You're always so beautiful."

You felt your heart rate spike at his words as you swallowed nervously. Shaking your head softly you led him to the couch and plopped him down.

He's drunk, his words don't mean anything.

"I'm gonna get you some water okay?"

He nodded as he grinned lazily, his eyes mostly shut and his face flushed pink. God how you wished you found him annoying rather than cute.

Bringing him back a glass of water, he reached out and cupped his hands around yours, keeping you from letting go of the glass as he drank from it. As you tried to remove your hands he whined, making you let out a soft chuckle.

"I'm not trying to take it, I just want my hands back."

"No. I want them."

"You want my hands?"

He nodded stiffly. "They're so soft."

Ignoring the way your stomach swirled, you let out a soft sigh.

He really just says whatever comes to mind doesn't he?

"You can have them later, but for now I need them."

He paused as he stared at you blankly, after blinking slowly, he nodded softly and let go.

After helping him take off his shoes and getting him a blanket you tried to get him to lie down, with much difficulty.

Kneeling on your knees by the couch you placed the blanket over him. "You'll feel better after you sleep."

"But I don't want to sleep, I want to stay with you!"

He probably doesn't even know who he's talking to at this point.

"We can talk in the morning."

"But that's so far away."

As he pouted, you couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped. Suddenly San leaned forward, his face mere inches from yours. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him in surprise.

"So pretty." He mumbled as he grinned crookedly at you, his eyes grazing across your features.

You swallowed stiffly as you gently pushed him to lie back against the couch.

If you knew you'd have to deal with this, you probably wouldn't have taken him home yourself. You already struggled with your feelings for San on a day-to-day basis. Now, hearing him say things to you you would die to hear, and knowing his drunken words probably aren't meant for you, only made your chest ache.

Seeing that San had settled down, you assumed he was finally giving in to sleep. You patted his knee softly as you began to rise.

"Would you date me?"

You froze as you looked back at him, startled by his widened and intense gaze. For a moment it appeared as though he was sober, but you knew better.

"What?"

"Would I make a good boyfriend?"

Your chest tightened as you softly nodded, your voice soft. "Yes, you would."

"So then why wont you date me?"

His voice was soft, and his gaze sad as he appeared almost heart-broken.

Who does he think I am? Is there some unrequited love he never told me about?

Your heart clenched at the thought of him loving someone like that. Of him aching about their rejection even when drunk. Were they always on his mind like this?

You smiled sadly down at him. "You haven't asked me."

San stared at you in silence for a moment before he muttered out a soft "Oh."

Before you could process it, he jumped forward, grabbing you by your wrist and dragged you down onto his lap.

Your widened eyes stared into his tired yet determined ones. You attempted to stand up, so you weren't sitting on him but he held you down.

"Will you go out with me?"

The tightness in your chest only worsened as you let out a soft shaky sigh. How long had you been imagining him asking you that? Only to hear him mutter it in drunken heartbreak at the thought of someone else.

What if the person he's thinking of heard him now? What if they were in your place instead? Would they reject him again? Or would they realize their mistake and accept him?

You smiled sadly at him as he continued to stare at you. "I'm not who you think I am San. These words aren't meant for me."

Even in San's drunken haze, he could sense the sadness in your words. His eyes focused on your face, on your features he knew so well.

Releasing one of your arms, he reached up and gently touched your face. His confusion only grew.

He frowned as he shook his head softly in confusion. "Aren't you Y/n?"

Feeling as though your heart stopped, you swallowed nervously.

"What?" He stared at you, confusion still present on his face. "What if I'm not Y/n?"

He frowned as he leaned away from you, blinking as if he was trying to make out who you really were.

"If you're not-" Suddenly releasing his grip he shook his head, "-then I'm not interested."

You almost let out a bewildered laugh. Had those words, those heart-broken eyes really been meant for you all along?

Standing up, you stared down at him as he crossed his arms and looked away from you like an upset toddler.

"Would- would you only be interested in dating me if I was Y/n?"

Nodding his head confidently your heart felt as though it was about to pop out of your chest. Are these his genuine feelings? Or just drunken thoughts he doesn't truly mean?

"I only want Y/n."

You stared down at San as he stared off into space, his voice was blunt, but still slurred.

"I want to take them on dates and hold their hand, and kiss them. I want to hug them whenever I want too, and sleep beside them."

He let out a sad sigh as you stared at him in stunned awe. He closed his eyes as he started to feel sleep take over his body.

"But Y/n doesn't want me."

You felt your stomach knot at his words. Why did he think that? You thought your feelings were obvious, at least that's what the other's had told you before. He spoke as if you had rejected him, but you never recalled a moment like that.

"Y/n deserves better than me, but I hate the idea of them being with anyone else. It has to be. It can only be me."

"I think you're wrong San."

"Hmm?"

He turned his head towards your voice, but failed to open his eyes.

"I think Y/n likes you very much."

You saw a smile tug at his lips, "Really?"

You nodded, knowing he couldn't see you. "Really."

The small smile on his face slowly faded as he drifted into a deep sleep. You watched him for a while, unable to move from your spot as your brain seemed to spin.

He hasn't gotten this drunk in a long time, you doubted he would remember anything he said tonight.

Maybe that was for the best.

If his feelings were as he said, he would be embarrassed that this was how you found out. If they weren't as he said, you would both be embarrassed, and you would be heartbroken.

As you placed another blanket over him before heading to bed, you decided not to tell San about what happened tonight. If he remembered on his own, things will go from there. But the fear that the feelings he expressed weren't true, made your chest ache. So for now, you wanted to believe them, just for a little while.

When San woke the next morning his head ached as his vision swam. He groaned as he slowly sat up, taking in his surroundings. It took him a moment to recognize where he was. When he spotted your familiar slippers by the door, it became clear that you had rescued him from himself at the party.

Hearing some noise behind him, he turned around, seeing you in the kitchen. Slowly, he rose from the couch, trying not to lose his balance as he made his way to the kitchen. His eyes grazed over your pajama-clad figure and he felt butterflies in his stomach. Oh how he would love to see this every morning.

San's groggy voice startled you as you turned to see him standing in the kitchen entrance. His hair was a mess and his face puffy from the previous nights escapades.

The memory of what happened the previous night rushed through your brain and you pushed it away as you smiled at him in pity.

"Morning. Coffee?"

He nodded softly, the movement hurting as he sat at the kitchen counter.

"I didn't give you too much trouble did I?"

You felt your stomach sink for a second as his words proved you had been correct. He did not remember what happened. Though, he hadn't been awake very long, memories could still surface.

You shook your head. "It was hard getting you anywhere, but besides that, no."

He smiled softly, light embarrassment on his features. "I don't even remember drinking that much." He frowned as he stared down at the coffee you handed him.

You let out a soft scoff and he looked up at you.

"You know all that eggnog you were shooting back?" He nodded his head and you smiled, "That was spiked eggnog."

"Sp-spiked?!" His own voice made him wince from the volume before he let out a soft sigh, "You mean there was alcohol in that?"

You nodded, "A lot. You really couldn't tell?"

He shook his head with an embarrassed chuckle. "I had never had eggnog before, so I thought it just tasted like that."

You chuckled as you shook your head, handing him some medicine for his hangover, "Well, now you know better."

He smiled at you as he took the medicine. "Thank you."

San watched you closely as you turned away from him, you had avoided eye contact with him most of the time you were talking. Did something happen last night you weren't telling him about?

"So, I didn't embarrass myself or anything?"

He saw you freeze for a split-second, something he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been watching you so closely.

You shook your head and chuckled, "Nothing more than usual."

He smiled as he nodded his head, not believing you.

"Do you mind if I take a shower?"

You shook your head, '"No, go ahead."

As San took a shower, he tried to focus on his memories from last night. He remembered playing darts, and then sitting with the guys. Then he remembered you helping him leave the party.

He groaned as he rubbed his face, trying to remember more.

When you got to your apartment, you set him on the couch, he felt his heart spike a little as he recalled...flirting? No, complimenting. He called you beautiful. Was that enough to make you feel awkward around him?

He shook his head, no it had to be more. As he focused, little pieces came back to him and he felt his chest tightening.

He remembered asking you out, pulling you into his lap, and...confessing his feelings.

He pressed his face against the shower wall as he cursed himself.

He frowned as he recalled you not thinking he was talking about you. You thought he was talking about someone else. Do you still think that? Is that why you avoided it?

Embarrassment and panic kept him in the shower longer than usual, he only got out once the water turned cold.

After dressing, he slowly walked out, finding you cooking breakfast in the kitchen. He watched you for a moment as his memories came back clearer and clearer by the second.

Maybe you hadn't told him about what happened to save-face, his to be precise. You would never want to embarrass him. Turning at the sound of his foot steps, you smiled at him and he felt his heart skip.

You ate breakfast in relative silence. He hoped you thought it was because of his hangover that he was being so silent.

As San helped you clear up the plates, you felt his eyes burning into you and you began to grow nervous. Slowly looking over at him you saw his eyes dart away from you in surprise when he got caught.

You swallowed nervously before you began to leave the kitchen, "I'm gonna go get dressed."

"Wait!"

You stopped as San suddenly called out. Turning back to him you saw various emotions cross his face as he tried to think of what to say.

"I- I'm sorry."

From the caution and embarrassment clear on his face, you understood what was happening.

You let out a soft breath. "You remember don't you?"

He nodded softly and you smiled, though your chest was tight. "It's okay San, I know you were just drunk, don't worry about it."

As you turned to walk away he frowned before quickly following after you. Reaching out, he grabbed your wrist, making you turn back in surprise.

"That's not- I-" He closed his eyes tightly as he let out a sigh. "I'm not apologizing for the things I said. I'm apologizing for saying them when I was drunk."

You stared at him for a moment as you tried to process his words.

Pulling you to face him fully, he took your hands in his. "I meant them. Everything I said was true. I just- I wish I hadn't said them when I was drunk. I wish I had the strength to have said them sooner, and when I was sober." He let out a chuckle.

"So...it wasn't just drunk nonsense?"

He shook his head and your breath caught in your throat.

"Oh."

"This isn't how I wanted to do this." He squeezed your hand a little, "But at least it's done. I was afraid I might never say something. It's okay if you don't want to say anything, or just leave it at this, I don't need you to reply, I'm just glad you finally know how I feel."

Slowly, he let go of your hands, and you recalled what he said last night.

"You were wrong."

San looked at you with a furrowed brow, "What?"

"Last night, there was something you said that wasn't true."

"What?"

"You said I didn't like you. You said I didn't want you. You were wrong. Don't you remember I told you you were wrong, and that I like you-"

"-very much."

You nodded softly as a shy smile formed on your face. "I'm sorry you thought different."

A grin spread across his features as he shook his head, "Don't be sorry."

As you stared at each other for a moment, you both started to giggle, unable to keep your faces straight, and giddiness hidden.

Suddenly San pulled you into a hug as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. He spoke softly into your ear and you felt goosebumps rise up your arms.

"Does this mean I can finally hold you?"

You chuckled softly as you nodded, "Yes."

He let out a happy chuckle as he buried his face in your neck. You wrapped your arms around him just as tightly as you held each other for a moment.

"What now?" You asked after a moment.

San hummed before he got an idea. Pulling away enough to look in your eyes he grinned happily.

"Wanna go on a date?"

"A date?" You laughed and he nodded fervently.

You nodded in return. "Yeah, I do."

Pulling you into his arms again he grinned happily as he slowly walked you backwards towards your room.

"Then get ready, let's go."

"Now?"

"Now!"

"What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know yet, but we'll think of something."

Laughing, you pulled away from him to hurry to get ready, excitement and joy radiating between the two of you as thoughts of drunken confessions and unrequited love were left behind.

xx End xx

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 9 months

Text

complicated

bucky barnes x reader

summary: things had been uncomplicated between Bucky and you, then things ended. Now he’s seeing you again after months and he realizes he never wanted things to end. Do you feel the same?

“...and if my wishes came true, it would have been you.”

Sirens rang in Bucky’s ears; the flashing lights illuminated his face as he stared straight ahead. Agents’ mule around in the background as Sam talks to a few – Bucky never did the talking and he was glad about it, especially now. He hadn’t seen you in what felt like years, but months would be more accurate. You stood tall but looked stressed; hands firm on your hips as you listened to what he assumed was a subordinate. Nodding as they spoke to you, he didn’t know your division was working on this case too. But why would he? He wasn’t a man in the loop, and he liked it that way; Sam was the one that did the planning and arranging, he just showed up for the job.

Bucky couldn’t stop staring, everything around him went dark and it was like there was a spotlight shining down on you. Face stern, hair brushed back behind ears. He knew the look of concentration on your face and for a moment, he smiled. His head ached a bit, he had been bleeding from his head earlier but now everything was dried and matted on his skin.

“You’re staring too hard.”

Bucky blinked and looked at his partner. “You didn’t tell me she would be here.”

Sam shrugged. “Need to know basis, remember?”

Right, his own policy.

“You should go say hi at least, better than staring like a stalker.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

Bucky frowned when his friend patted him hard on the back, leaving him to his brooding. He stood among the crowd of agents, deciding on whether it would be okay to say hello. The two of you hadn’t talked in so long and the last time you did, things didn’t feel right. It wasn’t like you were a couple, it had never gotten that serious. Things hadn’t gotten the chance to even become serious – workload and ambition had gotten the best of you, he tried to be understanding. While you were in this lifestyle for want, he just was around because what else was someone like him to do?

It started off innocently enough – flirtation over beers, blowing off steam with Sam and others in the field. A gang of friends turned family, but things never got complicated. A kiss led to another than he had you in his bed, sometimes in your bed and most times, in hotels while on the job. It had been light, free, and sweet. Then he started to get attached, he felt himself going in a direction that didn’t seem to even cross your mind. Bucky started to crave you in ways more than sex; he wanted to hold your hand, share a meal with you, scratch your back until you fell asleep beside him.

It started to feel dangerously close to love and it scared him.

The sirens died down and that’s when you noticed him. Bucky’s heart flinched when you met his gaze and he couldn’t bring himself to smile, even as you started towards him. His eyes followed your every step and when you finally stood in front of him, he still couldn’t smile.

“Bucky.”

He wanted to smile then, but he just asked how you were. Your face softened; a sigh rolled off your shoulders. “Tired as shit. I’m glad this case is over; I need a vacation.”

The notion of you vacationing finally made him crack and he smirked. “Have you ever taken a vacation?”

“Yeah, when I was twelve.”

Bucky stared at you and then the two of you shared a laugh, and it felt wonderful. It felt like air finally whistled down his lungs and he could breathe. You grinned and touched his shoulder, smile fading as your eyes fell. His shoulders slumped as he held your arm by the elbow, asking what was wrong. It could see it in your face, that you were crumbling from the inside. He recognized the look because he saw it every morning in the mirror.

Your fingers touched the lapel of his leather jacket. “I’m sorry…”

Voice quiet, shameful.

He stood quietly among the noise.

“…I was scared because things were starting to feel different. I started to feel differently about you, Bucky.”

Oh, he frowned. This is where you were going to break his heart. You were going to explain why you had stopped taking his calls, ‘ghosting’ him as Sam explained. Even stopped talking cases with the pair, switching agencies to get away from him. His mouth dried as you looked at him and he wanted to walk away, cover his ears. He didn’t want to hear what you had to say because then he couldn’t go on with his delusion. That you just weren’t ready, that if circumstances had been different, the two of you would be together today.

That everything would be different.

“I was falling in love with you…”

The word love struck him awake and all his senses warmed his body, catching your hand as it fell from his jacket. His fingers gripped around your wrist and his eyes examined your face – trying to understand what you were saying to him, right to his face.

“…I didn’t think you felt the same, we always kept things uncomplicated, and I thought you liked it that way. That’s why I stopped coming around.”

“Shit.”

The word slipped through his lips, and he was instantly annoyed at himself, but you laughed. “Shit? We haven’t seen each other in months, and I just poured my heart out to you – in front of all these people, mind you and all you can say is shit?”

Bucky dipped his head back and took a deep breath, holding onto your hand so you wouldn’t dare leave. He wasn’t going to let you leave his life again, not ever again. Warming his smile, he carefully pulled you closer as if that would give the two of you some privacy. He reached for your face with both hands and grinned.

“I want complicated.”

Your chest ached in delight. “You do?”

Words careful and concerned.

Bucky nodded, face serious. “I love you and I’ve missed you.”

Forgetting that you were a known hard ass among your peers, you practically leaped into Bucky’s arms. He embraced you, lifting your feet off the ground and holding you tight against his body. His warmth engulfed you and all you could do is think of a vacation with him. Lounging in bed, talking walks on the street – hand in hand. Sharing meals and falling asleep to the feeling of his fingers dragging against your back. All the things you had been earning for all these months, were finally going to come to fruition; and when his lips brushed against yours, you didn’t care if the whole world was watching.

Pulling your head back after a moment, you beamed at Bucky. “I love you too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

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reds-writings · 3 months

Text

jealousy, jealousy!

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: hello! welcome to my first bout of writing! feedback is greatly appreciated and i hope you enjoy! there isn't much rust content on here so i figured i'd create it myself lmao

warnings: cursing, steamy scenes but nothing too crazy, sorta sexism, marty hart being himself, rust being pigheaded, mentions of sex, etc etc let me know if i missed anything (minors just don't bother interacting regardless thank you!)

word count: around 5.8k

Never did you think that sitting in the passenger’s seat of Rustin Cohle’s red Ford pickup could have you seething as it did now. This wasn’t at all how your night was supposed to go and the culprit of said unsavory evening was sitting right next to you, cigarette pinched between tense fingers and eyes set hard on the dark highway ahead. The stubborn bastard had made no move to turn on the radio to save you both from the borderline unbearable silence. All you had was the humid Louisiana air from his rolled-down window flowing into the truck’s cabin and you couldn’t quite find it in you to be grateful for the fact he seemed to have kept in mind you detested the smell of that sour burning tobacco.

Just who the hell does he think he is?

The question that repeated itself a mile a minute in your Coors-addled brain as it fought to catch up with all that just occurred not even a mere hour prior. Rust, as you already well knew, did not bother himself much when it came to others unless it strictly involved the endless trials of his work. That was the line he drew on a daily basis. Nothing could be clearer than the fact that Rust had little to no capacity for getting truly personal with most who existed in his orbit.

It was something you dealt with a bit better than the likes of your other partner Marty day in and day out at the CID. Though he may be one mystery wrapped in a more or less fucked up enigma, Rust’s way of functioning stayed relatively consistent. You didn’t dig often given that he wasn’t up and ready to offer much in the first place. He was sharp and strong-minded. Possessing most qualities that make well for a good investigative partner. Lines didn’t get muddled. It was how you preferred it. Up until recently, that is.

You didn’t have much nerve or will to go down that route right about now.

Earlier in the day…

Your fingers were cramping at the end of typing the last dregs of the day’s reports. This recent case was starting to weigh heavier and heavier as an influx of countlessly cryptic details revealed themselves with each milestone of the investigative process. Something about this being darkly occultish as it was made it all the more daunting. There was a sense of underlying dread that this was something bigger than all of you. A sentiment you found yourself sharing with at least one of your partners: Rust. Marty on the other hand was still on the fence, not totally in the business of believing this was more than just some twisted piece of shit who had nothing better to do with his time. You wish you had half the mind to reduce it down to something so simple.

Strange things were not that of an irregular occurrence around these parts. Though said strange things didn’t have the habit of making it to the limelight as the Dora Lange case had. This wasn’t the type of case where one could be fine with just leaving it at work and picking it back up when they returned the next day as normal. Its disturbing details twisted themselves into every fiber of your daily life since that poor girl was found posed in Erath. It was better to eat, sleep, and breathe this case so that it may be solved all the more quickly.

A world with one less monster like the one capable of committing a murder such as this is was a world where you could maybe sleep a little more soundly.

Rolling your shoulders back, you twisted your aching neck side to side, resounding with an aching series of pops. God, I need a drink. You thought to yourself as you leaned back into the roller chair at your desk. The clock on your floor’s wall read 6:02. With all the work on your part done you figured you could slip out with much complaint. Stiffly rising from your spot, you started to pack away any necessary belongings into your well-loved messenger bag. Marty glanced up from his notes with a small quirk of his brow, “You headin’ out?”

Throwing your hair up to save yourself from the impending humidity from outside you replied, “Yeah. Need to wash the day off me and go grab a drink or somethin’. Bein’ out talkin’ to them church folk in the heat nearly all afternoon then witnessin’ Rust make that one boy shit himself was enough for the day.”

Marty snorted to himself at that while Rust made no move to acknowledge your statement from his spot as he analyzed his comically large ledger. The blonde sipped his evening coffee as you finished gathering your things, “Don’t get too crazy tonight now. Lots to do in the days to follow I reckon the more this case stays befuddlin’ as is.”

You scoffed lightly, “I don’t doubt that. I’ll probably just head to that Blue Gator joint off the highway. Grab a few beers. Maybe a dance should one be willin’. Need’ta let loose is all.”

“I’m sure any fella would be delighted to spin the night away with the likes of you, darlin’. Leave it at just dancin’ will ya?” Marty snickered a bit as you scowled and flipped him off idly. You notice in your peripheral Rust go still with a pen in hand but he didn’t make any move to look up or participate in the conversation.

Continuing, you fix Marty with a half-hard look, “I’m sure you have your extracurricular activities beyond the job so it ain’t a sin to have my own. Anways, this is hardly an appropriate conversation to have betwixt coworkers, Martin. Keep your nose outta it.”

Marty let out a surprised guffaw and placed an offended hand over his heart. Rust still hadn’t moved an inch from his position. When you let your gaze drift over towards the silent half of the duo you were met with that cold blue stare of his. The mere instance of contact left you feeling funnier than you’d prefer as of late. Things were starting to blossom into something a little different between you two after the few months of being in each other’s presence. He had been starting to open up in a manner he hadn’t bothered to when he first transferred to the CID here in Louisana. His presence had been quiet but no less intimidating, leaving you and Marty at a loss of what to do to prompt him out of his self-imposed shell.

Now, as this new case unfolded it seemed to trigger a sudden release of the deepest tidbits of his…intense opinions and values that went on within the inner workings of his mind. Marty often found himself wishing that Rust never bothered to open his mouth at all. Anything coming from the brooding Texan seemed to offend Hart on some deeper level one way or another.

For you, while it was not all that pleasant to constantly hear how fucked up we as a collective were and how life had little to no meaning, were intrigued nonetheless. You believed that Rust was just as human as everyone else despite him pushing himself as far away from that narrative as possible. He was just broken in a way that couldn’t ever be truly reversed. So while his infinitely dismal ramblings left you feeling more defeated about life than anything else at times, you couldn’t find it in you to really hold it against him.

When it came to your dynamic, he seemed to have more of an unspoken respect for you than most of your colleagues did within the department. It wasn’t some radical declaration made by him that clued you in on the matter. He mostly just treated you the same as everyone else. Not inherently negative nor too positively outgoing where others could accuse him of giving you some form of special treatment. He listened to you and took your input into genuine consideration which was more than you could ask for when it came to working alongside any of your other male counterparts. However, there were these little instances within the recent weeks that had your mind (and heart) taking another route when it came to how Rust Cohle just might regard you.

First, it started with fresh coffee materializing on your desk by the time you’d be strolling in at morning time. Two sugars with one cream and always in your favorite green mug ordained with hand-painted daisies. Very specific and not at all a detail that Marty ever bothered himself with remembering about you in the time you’d known each other. Not that you ever really cared. No one else here would ever think to offer you a damn thing unless it was maybe the lovely receptionist up at the front.

It wasn’t until one night you had forgotten your keys at your desk and made your way back inside the assumingly empty department only to find the Rust Cohle with sleeves pushed up to his elbows in the small office kitchen cleaning your daisy mug that you’d left haphazardly in the sink before leaving. You watched in silent awe as he had set it gently aside after drying it for what you assumed was for the next morning where he’d be the one who dutifully made your memorized coffee order in secret before your arrival. To him, the act was probably meaningless.

To you, the simple scene made your heart squeeze in a way you didn’t think was possible.

Next, it occurred when he started offering you rides to and fro after your car suffered a nasty rear-ending thus needing to have it sit in the shop for the time being. At first, it was a little nerve-wracking to be in close proximity without Marty present to break any drawn-out silences but after a while you’d found yourself in a rhythm you could call your own. Sometimes you’d talk, sometimes you’d sit and listen to whatever old country cassettes he had stowed away in his glove compartment. It was never dull to you.

Each car ride had you piecing together factoids that unfurled into the evergrowing idea that was your new(ish) partner. You still found yourself sharing more about your own life than he did more often than not but you were okay with that. Even if he wasn’t the most reactive of men, you knew he held on to every word. Anything he decided to sparingly share had you doing the same with a reverence you weren’t sure you carried for anyone else.

After getting your car back and no longer needing his chauffeur services a silent agreement had followed. Neither party was completely ready to let go of the pleasant thirty-three minutes permitted to be spent together outside of work. It was decided that he’d drive you home on nights you happened to leave late, deeming it too dangerous to be traveling home at odd hours in the night although you had already been doing so plenty before he manifested into your life.

Eventually, he even found himself at your house one day after having determined that your porch steps needed fixing…or that your gutters should be cleared…or that the lawn was looking a little too overgrown than what was acceptable. Small acts where you felt that maybe he wanted to be in your presence a bit longer than normally desired when it came to his usual limits of socialization.

Seeing him working around your property with that sweat-soiled wife beater of his and those lithe, god-given arms made that squeeze in your heart reach new heights and your tongue feel like lead. Who knew such pictures of domesticity could have this intense of a hold over you? You usually prided yourself in not being so easily affected by men. Though it wasn’t necessarily news that Rust was his own brand of a striking handsome that stood out against most men you’d come across. The sweet tea you’d supply for the dreadful heat when he’d carry out his projects ended up being more for your own benefit than his.

You caught yourself feeling greedy for more of his presence as he made himself an increasingly present fixture in your life. Which realistically…couldn’t lead to any sort of good.

Bringing yourself back to now, his gaze held an emotion you couldn’t quite place. Hell, most times it was hard enough to know exactly what he was thinking unless he outright declared it. Maybe it was disapproval? Judgement? It wasn’t likely that he wanted to hear about your potential escapades. You probably wouldn’t want to hear of his either (not that he ever does speak of it if he even engages in that sort of activity) but you’d be coming from a different place on that matter. He returns to the pages of his ledger after deciding to break the staring spell, “I don’t see what sorta grand company could be found at an establishment such as the Green Gator.”

His tone came out a bit too passive for your liking. Bordering the ugly lines of judgy which was something that rubbed you wrong entirely, “It’s the Blue Gator-”

“Oh hush up, Mr. High and Mighty. Not every man is as intellectually driven as you find yourself. Most men want fun and ain’t gonna pass it up when it’s in front of em’. They don’t need nearly as much as you do to get their rocks off.” Marty angles himself towards Rust in his chair, already willing to bat for you in his more than unhelpful way.

Rust just scoffed and shook his head slightly, “Wouldn’t expect a thing from anyone in this vast shithole…buncha ignorant shitheels with no sense of fuckin’…” He muttered the rest of his ramblings detailing the severe lack of intelligence that the people of Louisiana seemed to hold while bringing his attention back to his ledger.

His shoulders were set in a harder line than usual. Marty got a kick out of it all, reducing Rust’s distaste to not being able to participate in normalcy like anybody else in the world could.

On your end, it struck a nerve that he clearly found your plans more than dissatisfactory. It left an unpleasant taste in your mouth to be on the potential receiving end of Rust’s ruthless judgments.

“You forget him, y/n. You have yourself a good ol’ time with whatever strappin’ young man of your choosing should he be lucky. Don’t let grumpy guss piss on your parade.”

You find yourself grimacing at how much focus on you and the prospect of potentially getting laid has been put. You look back to Rust but he seemed to be no longer interested in your presence, back in his own world and on the case. Patting Marty on the shoulder you finally make your way to head out, “G’night. I’d love it if we never brought any of this up again. Page me if anythin’ comes up.”

“Y’got it, darlin’. You stay safe.” Marty points at you a bit more seriously and you nod in slight exasperation with a soft ‘got it’ before officially leaving. Rust hadn’t said another word which left you feeling all sorts of confused. Relieved he didn’t further insult your plans for a night out? Disappointed he didn’t put up much of a fight when it came to you maybe trying to avoid any of your current problems with the company of another man? You don’t know what you expected but you did know that you needed to get it together and just let this shit go even for just one night.

And what a night it would be indeed.

Night at the Blue Gator…

The night was proving to be a bit more than uneventful. Perhaps uneventful was just about the only thing your mind could handle at the given moment with everything else going on. The lingering feeling of Rust’s disapproval had also left you more affected than desired. With a few Coors in your system, you find your gaze a little hazy as it passes around the kitschy establishment.

Some George Strait song filters through the bar on top of the active chatter of the patrons taking up a surprising amount of space for a Wednesday night. The cute little black dress you managed to find in your closet and squeeze into was becoming less than ideal as you found yourself hearing the siren call of just calling it quits and crawling into bed back home. Clean sheets and reruns of something like The Golden Girls…absolute fucking heaven right about now.

Briefly pressing your perspiring bottle to your forehead, you soon enough were roped into a dance as some lively Brooks and Dunne tune came on. The fella who managed to drag you on the dancefloor was decent enough. A bit short and plenty bald… with maybe a tad too eager of hands for your tastes that left you feeling a bit removed from the experience as a few more songs went on. You weaseled yourself out of the crowd after ‘promising’ baldy (named Rex or Tex but who’s to really care) you’d make your return after grabbing a refreshment.

Making your way to the bar your legs come to a sudden halt at the sight of a familiar figure slouched on a stool. After your brief shock shifted into a brewing irritation, your feet found themselves mobile again as you sidle next to Rust and order yourself another drink. He put out his cigarette as soon as you were near his side but made no motion to speak so you find yourself shooting first.

“For a place you couldn’t bother gettin’ the name right of you can color me surprised to see you here.”

“A man ain’t allowed to drink after work?” Is his flat reply.

You put your hands up in mock defense, “No need for my permission. Just didn’t think you’d grace the simpletons ‘round here when you can have a drink for free and in peace in the comforts of your own home.”

Rust didn’t have anything to say to that, instead lifting his own drink to his lips, “That man sure had a grip on ya. Doesn’t seem the type you’d to give the time of day to. Less’ you’re that compelled to blow off steam.”

The thinly veiled nonchalance of his insult didn’t go past you. Instead, it caused you to bristle only in the way you could when you had a few drinks in you, a bit more sensitive and a helluva lot more confrontational. Who was he to judge how you spend your time? Let alone who the hell you spend it with? You set your new drink down with more force than necessary and felt your face starting to get hot.

“I can dance with just about anybody.”

“That’s been made clear.”

“And why in god’s name do you care exactly just who it is I dance with?”

“Don't remember ever givin' the implication that I quite cared.” Calculated blue flitted over you as if bored. But you knew better.

“I’m sorry, did you just come here to make me out to be some desperate whore for drinkin’ and dancin’ when I’m a grown-” That got his expression to fall with something closely resembling alarm.

“That ain’t-”

“Last I checked I can do whatever I so fuckin’ please. Do not go insertin’ yourself in the aspects of my life in which you are not fuckin’ concerned. Some of us are lonely and tired and can’t take comfort in stupid murder manuals or severe stretches of solitude. Call it my shitty programmin’ but that’s just how it is for most people. If I wanna drink and let a greaseball feel me up then that’s entirely up to me! Shit, it might be dumber than hell but it’s not like I’m gonna sit and wait around for you to make a move! That’s if you even feel a speck of the way I’m startin’ to towards you. Knowin’ you you’ve probably noticed and just like to see me embarrassed or somethin’.”

Everything was coming out like one big bout of word vomit. There was an even deeper change in Rust’s demeanor but you were too tipsy and too angry to pay much notice. The burning behind your eyes grew stronger as you threw up a finger to jab at his shoulder,

“It is not up to you to judge people for the shit they do that you deem is beneath you every chance you get. You’re not perfect yourself and I know you know it. But thanks anyway for making me feel like a fuckin’ stupid loser-” Your heated rant was interrupted by a fat mitt of a hand making its way around your waist.

“This fella botherin’ you, honey?” The hot whiskey-riddled breath of Tex or Lex or whoever the fuck immediately made your nose wrinkle in disgust. Your patience had run its due course for the night as you roughly shoved him off you,

“Oh come off it, Dex-”

“It’s Rex.”

“I don’t care no more I’m leavin’.” You threw a couple bills on the bar’s surface before making your move past both the offending men. Rex had different ideas and made the choice of gripping your arm tightly without much remorse despite your loud protest.

“You still owe me a dance, bitch. Where d’ya think you’re goin-”

“You best get your hands off her, boy.” Rust’s glare was off-putting even to you. Rex was either too stupid or too drunk to really care as he attempted to yank you back towards him. With your heart racing, all you could think to do was take your heel-adorned food and stomp on his booted one hard. The short bastard yelped as he let you go, giving you the room to skirt past him far enough just in time for Rust to take him by the collar and send him reeling with a swift punch.

Rex surprisingly regained momentum and took his chance to get a lick back at Rust but his opponent was already plenty steps ahead of him. Rust took Rex’s fist, twisting it behind the shithead’s back, and slammed his head into the bar countertop with a sick thud. A commotion had well enough formed by now and it was your obvious cue to start hustling your way out. Rust spit on the man who now had made a home on the sticky floorboards before turning to you. Your chest was heaving as you made way to open your mouth but he wouldn’t hear it as he grabbed your arm and started leading you out.

The bar doors slammed open and the persistently thick air of the South drove you further into rage. You yanked your arm a few times until finally freeing yourself from his clutches. He didn’t stop to acknowledge you, instead making his way toward his truck as if expecting you to faithfully trail behind.

“Where exactly do you get off?!” You demanded, struggling to keep up in your heels which then had you electing to nearly fall over yourself trying to rip them off.

No answer.

“I’m talkin’ to you! What the hell is wrong with you?” Your feet were finally free on the warm pavement of the parking lot. You still received no reply.

“RUSTIN.” Your throat nearly felt raw at the volume of your hollering. He stopped at his truck’s passenger door and opened it. The blood in your veins thrummed while your head and heart felt like they were going to burst out of their respective places.

“Get in the truck.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re drunk-”

“You ain't one to talk. Don’t think I ain’t seen those bottles of cough syrup in your car or them pill bottles you got! I’ll make it just fine-"

“Y/n.” His low baritone left no room for argument, nor did his hard stare. You felt like a petulant child staring back at him with your arms crossed.

Your will to break was unshakeable but you had the inclination that if you pushed him hard enough he’d have you in that passenger seat even if you came kicking and screaming. Huffing out a harsh breath you half stomped your way over and climbed in. Grabbing the handle for yourself you slammed the door before he had the chance to close it for you. You felt a lick of petty satisfaction when you saw his shoulders drop and a hand come up to squeeze the back of his neck. It wasn’t often you could catch Rust off-guard, let alone see him visibly exasperated.

After a moment or two, he rounded his way to the driver’s side and got inside with noticeably less ruckus than you did. He lit a cigarette as he pulled out of the parking lot, but not before rolling down the window in consideration of you. Bastard.

“My car better find its way back into my damn driveway come morning.”

He remained silent for the rest of the way.

Back to the present…

Pulling up to your house, the truck hadn’t even made a complete stop before you unbuckled and hastily hopped on out. You only stumbled a bit as the old Ford squeaked behind you in what was probably the harsh fashion in which Rust must’ve slammed on his brakes at your sudden escape. You heard the truck get thrown into park and a heavy slam of a door shutting as you quickened your pace up the pathway to your front porch. Your heaving breaths were drowned out by the frogs and nearby cicadas that created their own little symphony on your property. You knew Rust was following you but you naively hoped you’d make it up to shut the door in his face just in time.

'Fuck, I forgot my shoes.’ Was your narrow thought as you fumbled for your key ring in the endless depths of your purse. Rust’s footsteps grew closer causing you to whip around and shove him back with a clumsy force much to his surprise.

“Don’t you come followin’ me! I’ve had just about enough of you!”

“Listen-”

“No you listen! Never have I been more embarrassed than you’ve made me tonight. Never have I felt more stupid and small all because you decided today was the day I’d be on the shit end of your scathing criticisms! You can fuck right off with that mess. I’m goin’ to bed.” You turned to start your trek before he spoke up again,

“My intentions were not to come by and make you feel stupid.”

A near-jarring laugh clawed its way from your system, “Oh, so that’s your twisted way of makin’ a girl feel cared for. Is that it?”

He let out a frustrated sound, “What’d you mean by startin’ to feel a certain way towards me. Back at the bar.”

Your heart nearly dropped out of your ass just then. Did you really blab on about that somewhere in the middle of your tirade? God, you could just about go feed yourself to the gators right now. Work would no doubt be complete hell after this nightmare of an outing.

“Take it how you want it. I know with you being as perceptive as you are it shouldn’t come as a mystery what I might feel. You do plenty towards me that’s had me foolishly thinkin’ there could be a one in a million chance of somethin’ but no dice. So what I want to know is why did you follow me out. Why did you come all this way to ruin my night.”

The silence was biting as he offered up no explanation. He seemed to be trying to figure out that answer himself. Instead of the petty satisfaction you felt from seeing him at a loss earlier, he seemed well and truly bothered now which left a sinking feeling in your gut. The thought of the immovable force in front of you being this bothered when it came to matters involving you just made you all the more disoriented. There was only one other plausible explanation as to why he went through all this trouble to insert himself into the mix.

You could almost fall to your knees laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of your creeping realization. It couldn’t be. There was just no way. But given the miserable look of Rust’s obvious inner battle on what he should decide to say to you had you gawking.

The man was jealous. Rustin Cohle, feeler of nothing and believer of none, was jealous. A fit of giggles made their way out of you before you could help it. It might’ve been in poor taste during the seriousness of the moment between you both but you couldn’t stop. Rust seemed all the more distressed as if he’d been caught red-handed. Stripped bare in front of you despite no real accusation of his behavior being made quite yet.

“If I knew any better I’d say you were plain jealous, Rust. Can’t say I see you bein’ capable of actin’ so irrationally. I thought entertainin’ such primal notions was too beneath you. Especially should it involve lil ol’ me.”

But he was indeed more than susceptible to all the irrational factors of his so-called programming when it came to you. You were beautiful. Mind, body, and soul. Your presence brought things to the surface he didn’t believe he could ever have the experience of feeling again. It scared him shitless. Having to face what was making his old tired heart beat into a lively rhythm again after convincing himself things of that nature were abysmally futile. Even as you stood in front of him now, with eyes and hair looking something fiercely wild, feet bare and dirtied from your lack of shoes in that high-cut black ensemble you had on. He absolutely knew that he couldn’t bring himself to deny what his programming was demanding of him when it came to the unknowing hold you had over him. Flexing his shaking fingers as if to render them steady he took a slow approach to you.

This was a moment where you had neither the sense nor the imagination to anticipate what he’d do next. It was as if your heart had forgotten how to keep itself beating. This was the closest you had found yourself in his proximity. Being able to see every fine detail of the tragically beautiful man in front of you could have left you speechless for the rest of your days.

A large, calloused hand came to cup your jaw then the other followed. Both nearly took up the entire sides of your face, and their warmth made you feel as if you were on fire. His grip was firm… more so intenful if you were to put a name to it. Eyes searched each other in the most tortuously bated moment you’d ever found yourself being victim to. If you were to move an inch or look away the spell might be broken forever and you think you might just collapse if that were to happen. When had you gotten this dramatic?

Kiss me. God, kiss me. Just kiss me. You thought over and over as if willing it into his mind. Then, as if he heard you through some unspoken link, he did.

It was like being let in on one big universal secret that couldn’t be fathomed by most. Never had you thought a kiss could wield as much power as Rust’s did. For being such a hard and withdrawn individual, the feeling of his slightly chapped lips on your plush ones felt nothing short of soul-bearing and endlessly warm. Trailing your hands up his broad chest, the quick pitter-pattering of his heart didn’t go past you. Drawing your palms up further you reach to lace deft fingers into the sandy waves that you’d secretly been aching to touch for a while now. His breath faltered as you pulled back for a brief moment. It wasn’t long before the invisible magnet between you both had you returning for more.

The kiss turned more intense, bodies pressing and molding into each other as if you could become one entity. His tongue traced the seams of your lips and you had no qualms with letting him invade your senses further. The need for air was becoming harder to ignore but no force on earth could rip you away. The desire for him was something you’d not felt for another person in you’re not sure how long. If not ever. His breath held traces of the Lonestar he’d been cradling and the cigarette he’d deeply pulled on the way here and it had you absolutely hooked as it curled into your mouth. You didn’t know how long the pair of you stood on your porch necking like a bunch of desperate teenagers but by the time he pulled away you felt dizzy at the sight of his flushed complexion and swollen lips. Possessiveness gripped your being at the thought of being able to have such an effect on him. You. No one else.

Rust’s grip loosened on your heated face as he planted one last sweet kiss on you before stepping away entirely. It was a shock that you had any remaining strength to keep yourself upright. His expression seemed a bit more relaxed, a bit too casual for what just transpired. There was a brief pause.

“Don’t go out dancin’ anymore.”

With that, he turned and made his slow descent back to his truck. Snapping out of your daze once the words sunk into the crevices of your Rust-drunk brain you quirked a brow,

“If that’s your odd way of layin’ claim on me I think I’m gonna need to ask for a more straightforward redo, mister.”

You saw his shoulders shake slightly in amusement as the night found itself ending on a more playful albeit confusing note, “G’night, y/n.”

“I’m bein’ serious, Rust. You can’t just kiss a girl like that then waltz on out. I have questions.” You pointed.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow.” The cowboy gave a slight wave and then got into his truck. Oh, you could wipe that subtly growing smirk right off his stupid face. His dry sense of humor made its presence known at what you thought was the most inopportune of times. You stood there watching his truck disappear into the night, the ghost of him sticking to you like molasses. Your fingertips graced your buzzing lips and you could’ve started giggling again like some schoolgirl. How ridiculous indeed.

You were so not letting any of this go when you got into work tomorrow.

#rust cohle #rust cohle x reader #true detective #marty hart #true detective imagine #rust cohle imagine #true detective season 1 #matthew mcconaughey

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jammiycge · 2 months

Text

Hold me close like you did before

In which the boy who broke you're heart was now running back to you like he had a chance.

(Isagi Yoichi x gn reader)

tags- gn reader but I wrote this with male reader in mind, slight angst, swear words, not proofread, typos or grammar errors, reader implied to have an aloof and cold personality.

———— ★ ————

"I'm sorry..I shouldn't be here." he didn't move off from you though, melting into your embrace. right now, he was at your front door.

he knew it was selfish, he it was unfair for you to endure someone chasing you. he didn't even have the right to run back to you.

"yeah you shouldn't, so get off." Isagi flinches a bit. words cold as ice, it pierces through his heart just a little. he should've stuck to his decision of breaking up with you.

“please just let me stay a little longer? just a little…” his voice trails off, and he buries his face into your shoulder.

"why're you even here..?"

he doesn’t speak, but his body tells the truth. He rests against you, still melting into your embrace. He pulls away from you slightly, but doesn’t pull away entirely so that his forehead is still against your shoulder. His voice is soft, and he feels ashamed when his voice breaks. “because I can’t stand how lonely I’ve been without you.."

"but you're the one who broke up apart. this isn't fair Isagi.." ouch. last name basis? he chose not to comment on it though. he didn't have a choice anyways.

yoichi closes his eyes and sighs. “I know, I just…” he trails off, unsure of how to explain himself. this is the first time he’s talked to you after the breakup. he never thought about what he’d do. his eyes grow soft. “I miss being in your arms like this…”

"that isn't a valid reason, isagi."

he opens his eyes, and a pained expression washes over his face. “I know, but…” He trails off. the look on his face speaks for him instead, as he glances at you with a look of longing. It’s unfair, he knows, but his heart aches when he’s not with you. it wasn't his place to complain..

"it's your fault for breaking up with me when you knew you couldn't handle being away from me." the tone was nothing like he was heard from you. being used to the calm and composed one that he grew fond of.

yoichi winces at your words, but is unable to deny them. “I shouldn’t have broken up with you, I just…” he pauses, as his thoughts trail off. He can’t find the words to express himself clearly. “just please, let me stay. for just awhile longer?” His voice was soft, and his words were pleading.

"no.'' he knew damn well you were sadistic and there was no second chances in your book. you believed that if someone broke your heart once then there should be no reason to love them again.

yoichi looks at you, and his lip begins to tremble. you were always stubborn, but he didn’t know you were this stubborn about this. maybe it was his fault for assuming he was an exception. the thought made him bitter.

“please…” Your stubborn response wasn’t what he expected, and his grip on you tightens for just a moment before letting go. your heart is cold, and all he could think about was how he wanted to warm it up.

"do you think I'll choose you now and everyday..? I hate to burst your bubble, but i won't."

yoichi shakes his head, your words shattering what he hoped was a possibility. instead, the reality of you having moved on sunk in for him. all he could hope for at that moment was that you were happy. he hated the feeling of jealousy that bubbled within him. “no,” he says, his voice was barely above a whisper, “not anymore.”

"you know the answer. so why are you choosing to still love me when you know it'll be ten times harder to do so." the fact i had a way with words was only a stab in his heart. he used to love how i portrayed my love for him before, but now, he hated how its being used against him.

“because I can’t help it,” he says, closing his eyes. He knows you’re right, but his heart can’t stop loving you. The thought of moving on from you is impossible. everything about you was too perfect to let go, and he can’t find a reason to not love you. he knew it was a bit pathetic how he was acting, but the truth was that he still loved you. a part of him always will, he knows that now.

"just let me go."

yoichi's whole body freezes, and his heart beats faster at your words. you were serious about this, more serious than he expected. but you said it so gently, that he wanted to cry. he didn't want to let you go.

he lets you go from his embrace, though not entirely. his hand cups your shoulder, as his eyes are locked to yours. he swallows the lump in his throat and spoke, "..can I ask you a question?"

"..what?"

for me to be quiet was something uncommon. I was a person who was passionate in his words. so to leave me speechless or..wordless in this case was a bit out of place.

he always found you to be passionate and fiery with your words. It was what he fell for in the first place .

"have you found someone else?" his voice was soft, almost pleading. he couldn't stand the thought of you with someone else, and yet he hated himself for being so jealous. he couldn't help his emotions, and he hoped that wasn't enough of a reason for you to hate him.

"no..? you were my first and my last." you gave up searching for love after Isagi. you couldn't bare getting your heart broken after him. however, one part of you still longed for those short-lasting relationships.

yoichi pauses at your response. what? so you hadn't. that was some consolation, but he'd expected the worst. "and you don't plan to?"

"no, and why're you still here?" you didn't care on how rude or mean your responses were. you didn't bother adjusting for him.

your response stung more than he expected. he felt unwanted, but he deserved it.

he'd made his bed, and now he must lay down in it. "okay..." your words and actions were clear. he couldn't stop the tears from falling as he stepped away from you.

you just blinked at him with the same eyes that used to hold so much adoration, all for him, but he wasted it all. you didn't even look like you held any remorse.

everything about you from your words and actions was cold as ice, your words were a cruel reflection of his actions. yoichi can't deny that his emotions are hurt from it. He never knew you could cut so deep. feeling a sense of finality, yoichi simply nods. It's the only thing he can do in response to you anyways.

"..." you didn't even look at him. he knew he couldn't have a second chance in loving you, yet if he knew the consequences. it still hurt as much as he thought it would.

yoichi wanted to follow you, but this time he knew when to stay away. you were serious about this, and he knew that nothing he said could bring you back. He watches you disappear around the corner, and sighs. he turns and places his hands against the wall, letting out a frustrated huff. “I really should have taken you seriously,” he muttered to himself.

"you should've." you managed to catch a little of what he said and responded in a somewhat calm tone.

yoichi heard the tone in your voice and frowned to himself. he wished he could have another chance, but his actions have already spoken. he can't blame you for rejecting him after everything.

“damn it…” he mumbled softly, his words were filled with frustration with himself. he couldn’t believe he’d made the mistake of breaking up with you.

you weren't someone to be played with so easily. but maybe, just maybe, It was your mistake that your missed out on the chance on getting back what your used to love oh so dearly. Isagi didn't know that though.

the two never spoke again.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #bllk x you #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock x you #bllk #blue lock imagines #blue lock x male reader #yoichi isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x male reader #yoichi isagi #blue lock angst #angst

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Text

Niragi Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Heavy BDSM, Edging, Overstimulation, Aftercare, Ownership Kink, Marking, Biting, Petnames, Consensual Dub-Con, Consensual Abuse of Physical Strength, Knife Play, Mentions of Blood, Spit Kink, Cum Play, Rough Sex, Dominant Niragi, Submissive Reader, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, etc.

A/N: If you don't like this kind of content, please don't flag it ! It really hurts us authors and our engagement ! Instead, please consider blocking my account or changing your account viewing preferences so you aren't exposed to unwanted/NSFW content in the future :-). Here is a wonderful post which details how you can do just that <3

You’re his. Simple as.

And he makes sure to remind you - and anyone who crosses your path - on a near-daily basis.

Whenever he sees fit, he’ll just corner you and pin you down, telling you to “Calm down, Angel – you’re makin’ me hard,” – his way of warning you that whatever he has planned for you will only worsen the more you struggle.

And his bulge against your back is a very visceral promise of that.

Loves forcing your hands beside or above your head; it reminds you both of how much stronger than you he is – how weak and dependent you are compared to him.

How he owns you.

Bites your throat and shoulders, sucking marks, crafting you a necklace of bruises fashioned by him – his own branded jewels of love.

He’ll make sure they’re visible, too.

He needs to ward off other people from you by leaving his mark, his signature.

If he thinks you’re being bratty or uncooperative, he’ll go to any lengths to break you down until you submit to him entirely.

“You’re not making this any easier for yourself, Love,” he says. “Just tell me why you’re being so infuriating and I won’t bleed you this time.”

Massively into knife play.

Loves hearing you squeak and moan whenever he holds a knife to your throat or drags the blunted edge up your thighs, pressing it to your throbbing, aching core and cutting your underwear open, ravaging you.

He’s so rough when he’s in this kind of mood.

Will pound you until you bleed. Or give out and admit your feelings to him. Either will suffice; yet Niragi knows which he can draw from you first.

And his stamina and endurance are no joke.

He will outlast you in every faculty.

That’s the territory that comes with being a trained killer.

And he will remind you of that constantly.

“How does it feel–” he rasps, pants, as he pounds you from behind, the bed jutting with each thrust, “–to know you’re being fucked by a killer,”

The question is always rhetorical. He just revels in the feeling of you clenching around him when he recalls just how easily he could end you right here, right now.

But he doesn’t. And he never would.

He loves you far, far too much.

But that doesn’t stop him from being straight-up disrespectful.

Orders you to open your mouth, only for him to spit into it whenever he knows or suspects you’re being untruthful.

Also loves covering you in his cum.

His favourite thing is to cum inside you and watch it ooze from whichever holes he’s chosen to abuse that day, but something about covering you in it makes him feral.

Edges you constantly.

Uses your release as a bartering chip.

“Tell me why you’re being such a brat and I’ll let you cum.”

It’s a trap. Your honesty is punished, too.

Once he tears a satisfactory answer from you, he’ll let you - make you - cum.

And as your orgasm is still rolling through you, he’ll keep going. And going. And going.

At first you could assume it’s his bid to fulfill his own needs, but even after he finishes inside you and he simply doesn’t relent, realisation dawns on you.

Your insides are aching, pleading for a moment’s respite. But Niragi doesn’t stop, battering your hole and keeping it stretched over his bulging cock.

There comes a point where you’re banging your fists against his chest, begging him to stop because you’re so sensitive and it hurts, but he ignores you.

“If I were to let up that easily, I wouldn’t get to have any fun. Quite unfair after I let you cum, isn’t it?”

Looks into your eyes as he does it, too.

Will tie you up if he finds your cries and flails to be too bothersome.

Binds you to the bedposts so there’s nothing you can do but watch and feel as he slams into you at such a harsh, killing rhythm that has you thinking whatever’s leaking out of you right now is blood.

Very much into BDSM.

Will use his strength to bend you into whatever shape your body will allow and bind your limbs together, making it entirely impossible for you to break free as he has his way with you.

“You’re mine,” he’d say, grinding the shape of his cock into your walls; and all the while you’re moaning, crying, tears streaming down your face as euphoria tightens in your centre. “Nobody else can have you - please you - the way I can.”

Big fan of punishment, btw.

There are times where he puts you in a cage and just cums on you, making you stay there until his semen is crusting on your skin, makeshift scales on the creature he has reduced you to.

Also gets a kick out of spanking you, either with a belt or his hand.

When he’s feeling particularly cruel, he makes you count them until you reach the limit he has set for you.

And Heaven forbid you lose count, or you both start all over again.

Niragi likes to make sure that every time you try to sit down, you remember him – what he did to you.

When all is said and done, even when you’re used and stuffed and Niragi is milked dry, he is always up for more.

If you insist you can “go another round,” he’ll push you back down onto the bed.

“Oh, is that so, Sweetheart?” he says, looking down at you with mischief. “I might just break you if we go again.”

He’s joking, ofc.

When you're actually spent for the night, he just collapses next to you and looks upon you as if you are god, eyes dark and round.

Though he'd attribute that longing look in his eye to you being too emotional or clutching at straws - simply projecting that which you wanted to see.

Though, he will admit (only to himself), that it does feel nice to be so seen on occasion, but only by you.

Secretly loves to snuggle. All the time.

And he holds you as you’re drifting off to sleep, keeping you flush against his chest, wondering how he got so lucky to have met you.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-) Masterlist

Masterpost

#niragi x reader #niragi x reader smut #niragi smut #alice in boderland x reader #aib niragi #niragi suguru x reader #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #alice in borderland #alice in borderland x reader #aib x reader #aib smut #niragi x y/n #niragi fanfiction #niragi #niragi headcanons #aib x you #aib headcanons #aib hcs

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artificial-transmutations · 11 months

Text

Visiting the dentist

Rodrigo was really not looking forward to this day. He had a dentist appointment today and really didn't want to go - but his tooth ache was getting worse every day.

He hated going to the dentist with a passion. Everything about it was just painful or disturbing. No one should be allowed to operate a fricking drill inside his mouth! Even imagining the noise, it would produce made the hairs on his neck stand up in terror.

Standing in the cold winter air in front of the dentist's office made the pain in his mouth even worse, but he struggled whether to enter or just screw it and drive home immediately.

It was no use - on a rational level he knew the pain would only get worse. He sighed and entered the dental office. It was warmer in there, which was good. After hanging up his coat, he didn't actually have to wait long. There were no other patients in the waiting area, which was probably because of the time of day. Rodrigo was an author, so he had the luxury of being able to make appointments like this when other people were at work.

He was a little surprised though, as the person who entered the room after him was not the old woman who was torturing his teeth the last time, but a young and reasonably attractive man, who immediately shook his hand. Rodrigo could very much imagine that man not in a doctors coat but on a beach somewhere, just standing and looking good.

"Hi! I'm Garret, how are you feeling today?"

"Fine", Rodrigo lied, and added: "What happened to Dr. Shaffer?"

"Oh, she retired - actually two years ago! You haven't been here for a while?" Garret answered with a warm smile.

Rodrigo shook his head. "No. To be quite honest I don't like the dentist very much. Not you in particular Dr..."

"Just Garret is fine", Garret said.

"Dr. Garret.", Rodrigo continued, "But the whole place just gives me the creeps."

"No worries!" Garret laughed. "I don't know too many people who actually enjoy visiting the dentist. So, Rodrigo, what brings you to us today?"

Rodrigo didn't know if he was comfortable with the doctor being so first-name-basis with him but went along with it anyway. "Right, so, my teeth are aching, and it's really painful by now. I probably should have come sooner, but,..."

Garret interrupted him. "No worries. Let's just have a look and fix you up. Please get on the chair and open your mouth."

Rodrigo gulped and sat on the clean black faux leather dentist chair. This is where the hell began.

Garret carefully probed around in Rodrigos mouth, using his gloved hand to do so. After a while, he sighed and said:

"Well, there's a whole lot of caries in there I'm afraid. I can start to remove it right away, but it won't be pleasant."

"Ugh." Was all that Rodrigo was able to get out.

"There is another alternative, though. It's a bit more costly but it comes with additional perks. We can fix your teeth entirely painlessly by a new procedure. You will be better than new!"

"Painless sounds good. Okay, I'll take it. What do I have to do?"

"Great choice, Rodrigo. This procedure is really quick. Please take off your shirt."

That struck Rodrigo as a strange request, but everything was better than the drill. So, he exposed his unimpressive white chest, while Garret entered a few commands into his computer.

"Alright, this will only take a few moments. Have fun!" Garret smiled. Rodrigo couldn't help but notice the tent in the doctors trousers. Did he get a boner for some reason?

Suddenly, Rodrigo felt warm. The pulsating pain in his mouth ebbed almost instantly, but the changes did not stop there! His skin cleared up and his face grew a tiny bit squarer than before. Then, the changes continued from his face downward. Suddenly, his arms inflated with muscles, as well as his chest. His shoulders widened and his frame became way more masculine. It didn't expand to bodybuilder-like proportions, but he became way beefier than before. His abs became more defined as well. On his chest, a slight coating of hair grew in, and his skin tone became a healthy shade of tanned pink. Inside his pants, he could feel his pelvis growing wider and packing on meat, as well as his legs, which became stronger and fitter as well. Even his feet expanded a good one or two shoe sizes!

Last, but finally not least, Rodrigo felt his cock increase in size as well. It felt like getting hard, and he probably also was - but the final size of his stiff cock was considerably larger than what he measured before.

In just a few minutes, Rodrigo had been improved all over - including, but certainly not limited to, a whole new set of teeth, which were new and healthy as they could be. Full of wonder, he looked up to Garret, only to find that the other man had gotten rid of his own shirt as well and bent down to him, smiling and asking:

"Care to try out the full package before you leave?"

#male transformation #muscle transformation

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fuckmyskywalker · 7 months

Text

"All Over the Paperwork." — Clayton Beresford.

— CW: 18+, smut! Public. Office sex. Mild scent kink. Cunnilingus. Fingering. Boss/Worker relationship/also implied romantic relationship. | Word count: 1k (not proofread!)

— List of films! | Taglist.

— a/n: A day later but once again I'm a bit sick, the festival I went last Sunday got me fucked up lol.

“Sit.” He says, patting the hardwood desk of his office.

Hesitantly, your heels guide you to the side of his desk as you place your clipboard next to his empty coffee cup. There is something about the way Clayton’s eyes glow with mischief that tells you that any idea he has scheming in his brilliant, overworked mind will be something… dangerous.

His legs spread wider, accentuating the classic ‘businessman’ facade that he always struggles to keep. Intertwining his fingers over his chest, his blue orbs watch your every move similar to a predator. Sliding his tongue over his lower lip, your boss leans closer as you hop on the furniture. “Good girl.” He praises you with a smirk, his pearly white-perfect teeth sinking into his rosy bottom lip. “Now open your legs for me.”

Despite the sting of anxiousness that pierces your stomach, you obey, parting your thighs slowly— or as much as your pencil skirt allows you. Clay’s hands rub your thighs tentatively, his thumbs rubbing the sheer material of your nude thigh highs. With every little move, you hear the rustle and wrinkle of the paperwork scattered over his desk; documents to either, read, rewrite, sign, and discard… threatened to be ruined by his greedy starvations.

“Sir.” You call him, despite him constantly asking you to maintain a first-name basis. “The contract with HighGate Inc— It will get ruined—”

“And?”

“What are you planning to do?”

Despite your nervous question, your body language says otherwise. Lifting your body a little so your skirt rides higher and your legs spread further, you see his pretty eyes widen at the sight. Inviting and calling him like a mermaid’s chant— thank God he skipped breakfast. Licking his lips again, Clayton finds himself unable to focus on anything else besides you, and the business contact with HighGate Inc. is the least of his concerns right now.

“I think I’ll eat you out, while you make a mess all over my paperwork,” To reaffirm his statement, his calloused fingers reach the hem of your gray skirt, lifting the little inches that remain in order to expose the rest of your smooth skin; and your lace-covered core. You hear how his breath hitches and once again you are amazed at how insatiable your boss— and fiance can be.

Without further ado, Clayton leans forward, his fingers hooking under the elastic of your stockings so he can kiss your skin freely, peppering the inside of your thighs with nibbles and bites, as well as a few teasing licks. Slowly but surely, he moves his face closer to your aching pussy, stopping to rub his nose against your clothed clit and closing his eyes to inhale deeply. “You smell so fucking good, doll” He moans, his normally sweet voice now thick with lust.

Gasping his name, you look over your shoulder. The door is unlocked, and the tall, curtainless windows of his office scream that danger your mind warned you of before— anyone can walk it, and your panic makes you imagine even a helicopter could fly by and see your boyfriend— the head of such an important company with his face in between his secretary’s thighs. You know nothing will stop Clayton from getting what he wants, and the sight of him enjoying something so raw and natural causes you to yank his short, blonde hair, deliberately rubbing your cunt against his nose.

“What if someone walks in?” Your voice disappoints you, it sounds worked up, needy, not even scared of the consequences.

Ignoring you, unzips your skirt from the side, sliding his hands underneath it to pull your underwear down. Within five seconds, his tongue lays flat on your pussy, smirking at how wet he came to find you. “I don’t care if the whole world walks in,” His husky voice and hot breath hit your core, making you jolt and arch your back. Clayton looks up at you, begging you silently to keep his gaze while he eats you out expertly. The bastard knows how to use that sassy tongue of his. Very good. Diving right in, he slides his tongue in and out, letting the saliva pool at his tongue so it can effortlessly slide down and meet your wetness, making a lewd sound, and an even nastier mixture. Sticky and hot, your arousal and his spit trickle down your thighs, staining the white papers and ruining the ink.

Biting the back of your hand, it doesn’t take him long to work you up. It’s wonderful to see him excited to pleasure you, how his eyes roll to the back of his skull with every hair tug or every time he feels another wave of your slick coating his lips and smearing it down his chin. He replaces his tongue with two fingers, curling them and thrusting slowly as his mouth attaches to your throbbing clit. He definitely knows how to work you up.

“Fuck— baby, you taste so good” With every little noise and messy word that falls down his damp lips you feel yourself tripping closer to the edge, completely forgetting about the mess you are making over his desk. Clayton seems to notice this, he always does, the man knows you like the back of his hand; he continues to lap at your pussy, teasing and tormenting you until you're practically begging for release.

“Come for me pretty girl, let me taste you— make a mess on my face, on my desk.” His sweet voice is a salacious contrast to his filthy actions, sucking your little bundle of nerves harder, crooking his fingers, and rubbing against that spongey spot inside your warm, tight walls even further… until your vision goes white from the pleasure.

Your orgasm is high and fast, and the moans you fought back for entire minutes now fill the thick air of his office, echoing off the walls and probably scaring anyone who is outside his door. As your orgasm subsides Clayton slowly pulls away from your throbbing pussy, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your inner thigh, not caring about the chaos all over his desk.

“Do you think you can print that contract again after I fuck you against the window, princess?”

— 🐚 if you wish you be added to my taglist there's a google forms in the beginning of the post! There you can select which days you would like to be tagged in (or choose the option: all the above!). If you send me a DM or an ask I will tag you on every day! | some tags might not work due to your settings, so let me know!

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 kinktober 2023!#clay beresford x reader smut #clay beresford smut #clay beresford x reader #clayton beresford #clayton beresford x you #clayton beresford x y/n #clay beresford imagines #awake 2007

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xoxo-sarah · 8 months

Text

Deserved it

↝a/n: I need a better title for this. Also this has been in my notes app for so long and I've been too scared to post it.

↝pairing:Steve Harrington x fem!Hargrove!reader

↝ Warning: Billy, Reader is Billy's twin sister, angst , fighting, blood, arguing, slight smut, making out, not proofread

↝⎙ 9.9.23

"I have a hard time believing that." Oh- your smile. How could you look so much like Billy, yet so different? In a good way, of course. One thing that you didn't physically have that was the same was your smile. Yours was, well, nicer. More friendly. Less intimidating.

"I'm serious! Look- ask Nance." If you didn't know any better, you'd probably say he was practically begging you to believe him.

"I dunno, I just can't picture a guy like you being a ladies man."

"Okay, ouch."

Laughing, you couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of playfully picking on this poor soul.

"I was literally known as King Steve-"

"Bull."

That's how it all started. Playful banter between a kid who peaked in highschool and a new girl who had everyone's eyes on her and her own brother. Apparently, your family moving to Hawkins was a huge favor for everyone. You're welcome. You'd probably tell everybody, given the chance.

•••••

"Stay away from that Harrington boy." Billy puffed at his cigarette, before flicking it absentmindedly onto the dry ground.

"Steve-"

"Oh, first name basis now?" He scoffed, drumming his fingers on the car roof.

"He-"

"-Is trouble. He's looking for some dumb broad to pick up and have a good time."

"Billy, I don't really care what you think. And even if I was into him, that isn't any of your business." He slammed his hands down on the roof of the car, making you jump.

"Y/n," Billy tsked, "you are a lot of things, but a dumb slut isn't one of 'em. Now get in the car." Before you could respond, he sat down in the driver's seat, starting the engine.

Slamming the door, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and turned around.

Billy threw his arms up and huffed as he watched you walk away. Grabbing another cigarette, he lit it, letting you walk a bit ahead before he started driving. If you were going to act like a brat, he was going to treat you like one. He wasn't one to give in to anyone, but you had moments that made his cold heart ache for you, he was always going to be there for you, but only for you. You literally shared a womb together. There's obviously a connection that no amount of sibling back-and-forth could wilt, right?

Hearing an engine roaring, you didn't need to glance back to know who it was. Billy slowed, looking at your side profile, noting your sour expression. "C'mon, Cookie. The weather isn't looking too promising for you to be acting like this." Cookie. The nickname he had made up when he caught you stealing a cookie out of the cookie jar that was on top of the fridge. You were lucky he was the one who caught you. If it had been Neil, you wouldn't have gotten the cookie and a new nickname out of it.

"Fuck off, William."

That, right there, pissed him off to no end.

He sped past you, kicking rocks and dirt behind as he went, swerving in and out of the lane to taunt you.

You scoffed, "Fuckin' dick."

"Watch the floor!" Stopped in your tracks, it took everything in your being to not spin around and smack the shit out of Neil. Here you stood, soaked head to toe, along with your backpack and everything in it, and he was worried about the floor.

"I'll try to keep the water from falling until I get to my room." Giving him a fake smile, you marched to your room, slamming the door.

Almost as soon as the door shut, it opened again and Billy came in. He had to of just came out of the shower, steam rolling off his skin. Walking over to your desk, he picked up your deodorant.

"What do you want now?" You practically barked.

He held his free hand up, "Relax. I ran out." He harshly applied the stick with his other hand.

Yanking the stick from his hand, you scowled. "Buy your own. Get out."

"I don't have any money." He yanked it back, lathering his other armpit."

"Get. A. Job." You now harshly yanked it.

"I have a job, I just haven't gotten paid yet."

"That sucks for you. Get out, now."

"I don't think I will." Billy pulled out your desk chair, running his fingers through his wet curls.

"I will scream at the top of my lungs if you don't get your ass out now."

"Fine, whatever. Don't forget to clean the water up." Looking down, you watched as more water continued to drip from your soaked clothes to the hardwood flooring.

The deodorant went hurling against the door and clanked against the floor as he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Stop slamming the doors!"

The feelings of wanting to claw at your skin was intensifying each time your father opened his mouth.

You were in deep need of a relaxer.

•••••

"Billy would kill me- mmph~" As soon as Steve's lips pulled away, yours were chasing them.

"Shut up."

"M'kay." His hands tightened on your thighs as he felt your hips wiggle and closing against his own. Moaning as your pulled at his hair, he didn't have time to be embarrassed. He wanted you. Needed you. Right now.

You had gotten dried off and practically ran to the Harrington's. At first, it was just to blow off some steam, vent, if you will. But Steve had gotten some weed off of a friend and who were you to say no? A relaxer is a relaxer. Things got a little out of hand and you ended up saying a few things no sober person should ever admit. It didn't take much green for you to end up like you were. You were going to blame the plant either way.

Your other hand slid under his shirt, feeling the skin and hair under it. You groaned against his lips, feeling him unbutton your jeans.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, helping you pull his shirt over his head and throw it somewhere on the floor. His hands went back to your thighs as your lips went down his neck, starting at his jaw and going behind his ear and down. You kissed his body as if you were praising it. Every touch of your soft hands left a fire-hot trail, begging for your lips to follow with a cooling effect.

This is surely heaven, he thought.

Steve made a sound, causing you to quickly pull back just as quickly as you had put your hand in his pants and moved lower down his body. Be slowly shook his head, shifting in the seat. "Mmm, no. I want to touch you." Your unsure expression quickly vanished, replaced with a wicked smirk.

"Yeah? How?"

Steve was so glad he has matured from his King Steve days. Younger him would never take the time to worship a woman's body. But yours, oh God, yours deserved every bit of praise and everyone should worship your perfectly imperfect body. Every stretch mark, every crevice, every indent that society deemed 'ugly'. Hell no. He was set on showing you just how much he adored you and your body.

•••••

Steve chased after you, having trouble keeping up. "I didn't - I didn't mean for this to-"

"Stop following me."

"Cookie, please."

You spun around, a look of fury in your eyes. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Stop following me." You repeated, "I never want to see you ever again."

"This wasn't supposed to happen- not like this."

"Oh please, stop with this bullshit." Steve had to stop himself from wincing at the choice of words. Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit. "Imagine how humiliating this is for me."

"It was stupid! Carol and Tommy-they made some stupid bet and I was drunk and I just couldn't say no for some stupid fucking reason. Please,"

It was true, they were all plastered when the bet was made. You had just shown up, a fresh face and already the talk of the town. Every boy in their grade had said something about you and your body. At first, Steve ignored the cruel, disgusting words and acted like your arrival didn't affect him. You two hadn't talked much, but he had heard the way you talked to Billy, someone you had literally known since birth, your sweet voice yet snippy remarks.

Carol had made some jab, and Tommy had found it weird when Steve didnt laugh. Sure, they had grown apart, but it wasn't that long ago when Steve would make those same remarks. The liquid courage had Steve argue with Tommy on how you would totally not date Steve or anyone like him. The next morning, the terrible hangover has Steve promising himself to never drink again. The horrid memories haunted him until he got to school. Tommy had a group of preppy kids huddles around Steves locker. Apparently, Tommy had opened his mouth and spilled out all of what Steve had said. Multiple guys clapped and went to high-five. "King Steve is back!" What was he supposed to do? Almost everyone knew about what he had said, well, not you or Billy. God. Billy would kill me, he thought.

He was surprised no one had told you when you walked though the school doors. Everyone kept quiet, until 3 weeks later. To be honest, Steve had forgotten about it. Or tricked himself into thinking so. At the beginning, you guys getting closer was purely for the bet, but you were so quick witted, so smart, so pretty, so easy to talk to.

Carol didn't keep quiet for long. Just as you and Steve got so close, skin to skin, breath to breath, heart to heart, Carol had gushed about how Steve actually won some bet. Confused, you listened as both Carol and Tommy told you all about it and about what Steve had said. It didn't help that so many people were standing around, watching everything go down. Steve was lucky Billy wasn't there at that moment either.

He tried to reach for your hands, sighing in defeat when you yanked them away. "Please. I can't- we have something good."

"Do we? You embarrassed- humiliated me. You let it happen. No matter what we have done, it never meant as much to you as it did to me."

"It did. It does. Everything we did meant everything to me. Y/n, please."

"She warned me about you, ya know. Everyone did."

"What?"

"Nancy. She warned me about you. You only ever want one thing."

He was at a loss of words, flabbergasted. "What?"

"You got it. So you can leave me alone now."

Steve watched as you walked away, mouth hung open. He didn't know whether to go after you, or marinate in what you had said.

What did Nancy say and why?

Turning a corner in the supermarket, you didn't expect to almost run into something, or someone. "Shit-sorry."

The girl waved you off, fixing her hair. She looked up, watching as you picked up the loaf of bread you had dropped.

"Y/n, right? Billy and Max's sister."

You looked at her curiosity. "Yeah, you?"

"Nance. Nancy."

"Nancy Wheeler?" Her cheeks became red. You had heard of her.

"Steve has told me alot about you."

Oh.

Her face fell a little. "What has he said?"

Alarm showed on your face. He hadn't specifically talked about her, just about how they used to be together and how she could vouch for him being a total took a year or two back.

"Oh, just about how you were together."

Well, this is awkward.

"Yeah." Yeah.

"Ya know, he told me to ask you about his King Steve days." Her own face didn't have the same playful smile yours did. It was unsettling.

"Did he now?"

You looked at her confused, what had you just unleashed?

Apparently it was a lot.

•••••

Steve tried everything to get you to talk to him. He called, never getting an answer, or when someone did pick up, it was either your dad, the clueless mom of Max, or Billy. He brought you flowers that stayed on your porch and rotted. He tried talked to you in school. He never got a response out of you. It was as if you didn't see him.

He deserved it.

One night, he thought it would be a good idea to try one more time when the parents left for date. You were surely home, he didn't know about Max and Billy, but he didn't really care.

He knocked on the door, 1, 2, 3 times.

"Y/, come on, please! I'm sorry!" His head dropped against the door. He was desperate at this point. Even if you opened the door and told him you hated his guts, he would be beyond grateful to just hear your voice on last time. He'd understand you.

Hearing someone making their way to the door, he fixed his posture, waiting.

Right after the door opened, a blow was delivered straight to Steve's left cheek. He staggered back, his back hitting a pole keeping the screening up around the porch.

"You gonna make another bet about my sister, Harrington? You just can't leave her alone, can you?"

Billy's hands continued to pushed at Steve, pushing him further off the porch and into the yard. Insult after insult was thrown at Steve, he could only take it, keeping his mouth shut. He deserved it.

"William!"

Was he hearing things? Had Billy hit him one too many times? Your sweet voice rang through his head, bouncing around, wrapped his throbbing brain in a silk bandage, kissing it better as if it was a simple scratch. "Get off of him! Damn it!" The blows at Steve's side stopped. This time, Billy went staggering back after you had pushed him off of the hunched over boy.

You were too nice.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Billy bellowed. He threw his bloody hands up towards Steve. "You're gonna let him get away with humiliating you?"

"You're gonna kill him!" You made a point to look at the blood dripping from his knuckles and then to Steve's bleeding nose and swelling eye.

"He deserves it!"

"That is not your place!" Billy closed his mouth, looking at you in pure disbelief. You had just yelled at him, truly raised your voice, not one ounce of familiarity behind those eyes that burned in hatred. Your eyes softened, biting your lip before going to apologize. "Billy," before you could continue, he stomped towards the house, bumping into Max, who watched the whole thing.

After looking at the door, contiplating what to do next. You would deal with Billy later. Steve had to be gone by the time your father got back.

"What we had-"

" ‘what we had’? We fucked, Steve. That's it." You sounded tired, exhausted.

Steve stood hunched over, at a loss of words. It wasn't just a simple fuck. There was something there. He felt it, surely you did too. Your bodies fit together too perfect for a simple fling. His hands wouldn't remember every curve of your body for a simple fuck that didn't mean anything what so ever. He refused to take that for an answer. Even if it took a while to show you that you did mean more, he'd do just that.

"Alright."

He turned, walking towards his car.

"Steve," you called out, "you're hurt-"

"I got it."

He didn't waste any time getting in his car and leaving.

If you wanted space, he'd give you space. He'd find a way to make it up to you, even if it took a lot of time and a lot of different ideas and apologies. You both needed time to heal, emotionally and physically.

-----------

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

#🕶️#steve Harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington x you #steve Harrington x hargrove!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things angst #stranger things fanfic #xoxo-sarah 🩷

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rookthorne · 4 months

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐃𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Opulence was so readily and freely available to you in your lifestyle, and you had your love to thank for that. Of course, that meant you were going to find him the most dashing present, and spend a fortune on it, whether he liked the pop of colour, or not.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✦ Mafia!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✦ 1.1k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✦ Fluff, Princess takes care of Bucky

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✦ Just some much needed softness for my boy.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✦ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Christmas was a time for you to let your hair down, and for every year before you had met Bucky, that was exactly what you did. Since this was the first Christmas with Bucky, however, you planned on doing the opposite; pairing it back and reining in the festivities.

He had vehemently insisted that you could do whatever you wanted, going as far to give you his whole wallet and telling you to get out of the penthouse and have fun, but you refused.

Only on the basis that you already had your fun.

Bucky’s present was hung, hidden, in one of the spare bedroom’s closets. A luxurious suit, tailored to Bucky’s measurements — thanks to the sneaky idea of using his usual tailor — in pressed cashmere in the colours of deep reds and maroons. They lacked subtlety, but the Christmas vibe from the paired colours was just what you were after.

He needed more colour in his life, you reasoned.

The click of the lock on the front door made you look up from your phone, where you were mindlessly scrolling. “Baby? Where are you?” Bucky called, his voice strained.

You frowned and answered, “In the study.”

His footsteps sounded slow and deliberately heavy, ladened with the weight of the day. You placed your phone down on the side table and looked at the doorway just as he appeared — exhaustion clung to his built frame, the slump of his shoulders and lack of his signature smirk when his gaze focused on you was all you needed to know to realise that it had been a rough day.

“Are you alright–?”

Bucky shook his head once, and sighed. “Shit day. Shit people.”

You got to your feet and went to the small bar, just next to the opulent electric fireplace, and you pointed at the wine in the small fridge — one that was normally reserved for special occasions. “Do you want one, handsome?”

“Yeah,” he answered tiredly, rubbing his face with his right hand as he fell onto the loveseat. “Why the fuck not.”

The small Christmas tree on the opposite side of the bar gleamed in the firelight, the reds and golds patterned with ambers and oranges of the flames as you poured two glasses full. “Did you want to talk about it?” you ventured, glancing up from the glass to his face, and you caught the minute shake of his head. “Okay—it’s up to you babe.”

You couldn’t take the deep frown of contemplation on his lips, the furrow of his brow that aged him — the ache of your heart deep the longer it was there. It was heart wrenching to see, and you decided enough was enough.

The surprise for Christmas that you had worked hard on was just going to be early; his smile would make all of it worth it.

“How was your day, doll?” Bucky asked quietly, sipping at the wine. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you this time, and you smiled softly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t message as much–”

“Don’t you worry, babe,” you rushed, grabbing his hand. “I had a good day—nothing eventful, thankfully.” The skin of his right hand was callused and warm; scarred from knives and triggers alike. “I actually have a surprise for you.”

Bucky blinked. “Okay, now that’s a shock.”

“Don’t be so surprised, wow,” you teased, and he chuckled. “Now, you wait here. And close your eyes.” The wine glass in your other hand made a small thud when you put it down on the side table. “I mean it,” you said, getting to your feet. “Close them. Now.”

He raised a brow in challenge as you walked backwards out of the door, and you pointed at him. “Do as you’re told.”

“Whatever,” Bucky groaned. He threw his head back over the ornate carved frame of the loveseat, then he put an arm over his eyes. “I’ll just have a nap, ‘kay?”

Sighing, you rolled your eyes before you walked to the closet that held the suit. The fabric of the garment cover was scratchy against your arm, but you powered through to walk back to the study — an otherwise silent space, if you discounted the low mutters and curses in Russian coming from the slumped figure of your love.

Your heart broke at the sight. If Bucky outright refused to tell you what had happened that day, you knew it was a dark, dangerous topic, and you wouldn’t push, but it did not stop the longing you held to help lessen the burden on his shoulders.

“Buck–?” you said quietly, and his shoulders straightened. “Are your eyes closed?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

You rounded the loveseat to find him sitting comfortably, thighs spread and hands relaxed either side of them. “Okay,’ you ventured, moving to stand in front of him. The rustling noises of the cover made you sure he had already guessed what you had brought in — at least he at least didn’t know for certain, not yet, you assured yourself. “Open your eyes.”

Bright, clear eyes met yours, and then they glanced down at your gathered bounty. “Oh–” His hands twitched as he reached out to unzip the cover, and he beamed at seeing the red and maroon fabric. “Baby—what the–?”

“I thought you needed something that’s not black, and something that’s Christmassy,” you explained, smiling down at him. “And your lovely tailor helped me get it together. It’s why I haven’t gone out at all, because I had all of what I wanted to get right here.”

“Oh, baby girl,” Bucky breathed, running his fingers over the fabric. “This is beautiful. Hang on.”

You watched him get to his feet and straighten his shirt. “Unzip it for me?” he asked, fiddling with his cuffs. “I want to wear what my girl got me—‘cause she’s got amazing taste.”

Heat crept up your neck at his praise, but you unzipped the cover with haste and you held the shoulders of the suit carefully. Bucky offered his arm and you slipped his arm through the sleeve, then the other; careful of the breadth of his biceps and shoulders. The suit shuffled and creased as Bucky shucked it up his frame, and it settled perfectly on his shoulders. “Damn, Princess.’

A beaming grin split your cheeks as you watched him turn to face you. The deep red and maroon made his eyes pop with colour, and his tattoos deepened with the contrast. He looked truly beautiful. “Holy shit, babe,” you breathed. “You look—fuck, you look so handsome; dashing.”

Bucky grinned at you, and pulled you close. “Why, thank you, baby girl,” he purred, and he kissed you on the corner of your mouth. “Now, I need to find you a dress to match.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #MB #rookthorne's works

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faghubby · 1 month

Text

Camp Happy part 2

Must read part 1

I watched as Ms Stephanie got on the bus and pulled away. My heart sank alittle watching her go. I looked at the time damn I was late for cooling class. I got there 5 minutes late and knew I would receive some type of punishment for it.

"Paulie, are you having some issues" Ms Sara the cooking councilor asked.

"No, Ms Sara." I replied. She looked down at the wet spot in my pants.

"OH, um I was saying goodbye to my wife" I tried to explain. She took me by the hand and led me outside.

"You can ask for protection if it's thst time of your cycle" she told me. Ms Sara led me into the bathroom. She pulled down my pants and panties in one yank. She reached into a basket on the back of the toilet and pulled out a pantyliner.

"You just remove the paper and lay it in your panties like this" she told me. This all made me leak even worse. My dick and balls aching not being able to grow in the cage.

"Now about being late for class." Ms Sara opened a cabinet and pulled out a pink box. "Have you ever" she took a pink silicone butt plug out of the box. She put on a latex glove and bent me over and applied lube to my ass. slipping a finger into my ass. Then removed it and slid in the plug.

"OH my" I gasped. I pulled up my pants and she took me back to class. I was walking funny.

"5 minutes equals 5 hours" Ms Sara smiled.

Mr Terry met me after class. Ms Sara told him about my punishment.

"Well Paulie has a review with the staff" he smiled. As he led me to the office I was walking slow. He reached behind and cupped my ass. Pushing on the plug. I jumped grabbing hold of his arm. I stared up at him our eyes met. I thought about him and how much him grabbing my ass excited me.

I was led to a room 5 senior staff where there and Mr Terry joined them. I was given a little stool to sit on.

"Paulie, this is a review of not only of how you are doing but how you fell we are preforming" A man with a white beard stated. He had a nameplate in front of him.

"I understand Mr Victor" I replied.

"We met with Ms Stephanie and got her imput as well" Ms Janice stated she taught my woman's pleasure course.

"We have no reports of you tampering or even asking to have your cage removed" Ms Kelly the nurse added.

"Very unusual, do you like being caged?" Mr Victor asked

"It can pinch at times, and today" I fell silent suddenly embarrassed.

"Paulie had some leaking issues today" Mr Terry told them. Ms Sara taught him how to use a pad. This made every one giggle a little.

they talked about me for a few minutes rather then to me.

"Paulie is very submissive, has hardly resistance to anything we told him to do."

"Has he been offered to dress fully?"

"Homosexual tendencies"

"Interactions with other guest?"

They went back and forth with questions and responses. I was surprised by some especially how Mr Terry had stated homosexual behavior he witnessed. He referred to reports but didn't say what was in them.

"Ms Stephanie stated she would be very interested in cuckolding her husband on a permanent basis." Ms Diane stated " as well as keeping him/her as a soft boi"

"Paulie, how do you feel about being cuckold?" Mr Victor asked.

"Well I... I did suggest thst Stephanie" I couldn't finish.

"Paulie have you ever tasted a man's sperm" Ms Diane asked. I just nodded.

"Are you aware thst cuckolds usually lick thier wife's after a man has used her?" Ms Diane stated, I just stared at my feet.

"It's okay Paulie. Mr Terry will help you with this" Mr Victor said handing a binder to Mr Terry.

Mr Terry led me out of the building as we got outside he grabbed my ass again making me jump. He laughed and then so did I knowing he did it tell me it was alright. I thought we where going to the library but instead he took me to the massage cabin.

"Strip" Mr Terry said plainly. I did as told I stood nakedjust my cage which was still leaking. Mr Terry picked me up and placed me on the table. He rubbed oil on my shoulders. I tried to relax. His strong hands worked my muscles. As he worked closer to my ass. His hands groping my ass he poured lube between my ass cheeks. He rolled me onto my back. He pusher on the plug.

"Do you want me to stop" he asked.

"No,but no" i moaned. As he moved the plug appling pressure as he rubbed it against my prostate. I hadlearned about milking. He used some kind of cup to catch my cum as it flowed outof me. My eyes had been closed so when I felt a cup touch my lips I was surprised. Then I tasted salty slime.

"Swallow "Mr Terry ordered me. I did as I was told.

"Feel better" he asked. I did the pressure in my balls was gone. He made sure I ate all of my cum which wasn't bad but a wierd texture. the plug which seemed smaller now. I slid off the table He reached out to grab me. I fell against him. I reached into his shorts and stroked his cock.

"That isn't for you" he smiled and removed my hand. I got dressed embarrassed. Not only about me thinking he wanted me to please him but also that I had just had my ass fucked and swallowed my own cum. We went to the library and Mr Terry helped me go through the binder. He asked me about every sexual experience I had ever had, I had only been with two woman a girlfriend in high school we slept together once. And Stephanie. I had only ever recieved one blow job from Stephanie the night i proposed. Mr terry finished the report with him using the toy on my ass.

He asked about being a girl.

"Do you feel you are a man?" He asked. To drive the point home he pinched my nipple.

"No, I guess not" I admitted .

"Would you like to experience being a woman?" He continued

"No, I know I kinda" I said almost in tears.

"Shh, you are not a man or a woman. We call you a soft boi. It's not quite a sissy. It's more like a young man with femine traits. This is what Stephanie wants. She would like it if you agreed to continue this when you go back home" Mr Terry explained.

"Stephanie would also like to make your chastity permanent" Mr Terry explained. You could recieve relief like I did for you"

"but family, friends, the factory " I said

"Well Stephanie would want you to become her house husband. After all you work for her right, you would just do that from home by cooking and cleaning." Mr Terry explained. I was feeling very vulnerable and found myself cuddling with Mr Terry.

"One last thing" Mr Terry pulled out a form.

"Name change" he stated.

"What I don't understand" I replied he handed me the form. It read Paul Drover name to be Paulie Murphy. That was Stephanie's last name.

"Stephanie would love it if you agreed to remarry her. Take new vows more fitting your new role" Mr Terry explained.

I signed the form. Terry walked me back to my room. I fell asleep immediately feeling completely emotionally drained.

The next day me and Stephanie had a long Skype. She explained her feelings. She also confessed to having slept with Roger an old friend of mine as soon as she got home from seeing me. I confessed that Mr Terry had fucked me with a dildo. She had already been told.

"Did you like it?" She asked. I was forced to admit I did.

The next week was more directed at Stephanie's wishes. I spent alot ofe time in cooking, organization, cleaning courses. Along with how to pamper a woman. I was also given free time to sunbath I choose a bikini so I got tan lines on my chest as well. I also explored the library reading alot about sexual needs, desires. I even met that wierd guy that had pink hair. Her name is Dana. He is a total sissy who's wife sent him to camp whenever she went on vacation with one of her lovers. He had not even seen his wide naked ever. He was there to please her lovers if they wished. We hung out alot. The day before I was set to leave Stephanie was coming to escort me home I got pink strip in my blonde hair, I was hoping Stephanie liked it.

"I love it" Stephanie told me kissing me. She immediately took me to her cabin. Where I licked and sucked her everywhere. When I was done she just laid on the bed smiling.

"That was amazing" she told me.

"Sweety I got you a kind of graduation present" she sat me down and handed me a jewelry box it was a set of diamond earrings. She didn't wait for an answer she pieced my ears with a needle right then and there.

"I also bought you all kinds of new clothes, but I like you to wear this for me now" she told me and pulled out a pink satin nightie and panties that said Stephanie's bitch on the ass. I got dressed as I did she had put on a dildo harness. She bent me over and fucked me. It was only a few minutes before she got tired. So she had me straddle her and ride her cock. As we laid there in bliss of the greatest sex ever. We fell asleep. When we woke it was dark.

"let's go for a walk" she said. My curfew didn't apply if I was with her so I got dressed. Ms Stephanie watched as I slid on a tiny pink thong. I added a pantyliner. Then a pair of black boots shorts. And a pink camp spaghetti strap tee shirt. And open toed sandels.

"It's chilly you might get cold" she told me I grabbed my camp pink oversized hoody that came down like it was a short dress. Ms Stephanie slid on plain white panties jeans and a flannel shirt. Didn't even bother with a bra and boots. I held her hand as we walked out into the dark. The trail was lit. But I heard rustling in the bushes and held her hand tighter.

"It's okay sweety, no reason to be scared" she reassured me with a smile. We walked on.

"You look amazing by the way" she told me. "They tell me you lost almost 15 pounds" Ms Stephanie said. I had not even realized it until I had to ask for smaller clothes. My strick diet and exercise program was sternly in forced.

"Thank you Ms Stephanie" I replied blushing a bit. Her hand grabbed my ass.

"So tell me about what happened after Mr Terry helped you after I left last week?" She said slowing and making me look at her.

"You gropped him?" She asked with a strange look. I wasn't sure if she was mad or surprised.

"I thought" I fell silent

"You will never try and initiate anything intimate with anyone ever again" she told me. "If he had wanted you to suck his cock he would of told you to" she told me.

"I am sorry Ms Stephanie. You are right" I said my voice shaking.

"Would you like to have a man take you, it is a very amazing experience to have a man inside of you" Ms Stephanie explained

"I just, it was kinda just caught up in the moment" stumbling over my words.

"You really liked my strapon" Ms Stephanie pointed out. I blushed deep red and nodded. We where headed towards the music. As we entered the cabin looked like staff was just unwinding from the day.

We where welcomed in Ms Stephanie was offered a drink. She allowed me some apple juice. She danced with several staff members while I stood and watched.

"Why don't you go back to my cabin and wait for me in bed little one. You must be exhausted" Ms Stephanie told me as she went back to dancing with Mr Frank the lifeguard. Mr Terry offered to escort me back after she laughed that I was afraid of the chipmunks.

Mr Terry walked me back I held his hand the whole way.

"Mr Terry I like to thank you. You looking after me in my time here" I said.

"Paulie it has been a treat" he smiled. I stretched up and kissed his cheek. Only after did I think it strange. Should I of offered a hand shake.

"I hope you come back to visit us soon" he told me as I rushed inside and turned on the light.

Ms Stephanie woke me when she came in.

"You are officially a cuckold.ihad noidea how much i needed a real man " she said kissing me. She already was naked as she straddled my face. I sucked a man's cum out of her swollen pussy. "That's your friend Terry you're tasting. Are you jealous that he didn't fuck you?" She giggled. And told me she gave Frank a blow job as well. "I gobbled up every drop. I never ever let you cum in my mouth have i" she was obviously tipsy. She collapsed when I finished I tucked her in and cuddled up with her as she slept.

We left in the morning. We had a 3 hour wait time at the train station. Ms Stephanie decided we would explore the town. It wasn't very big moreover a tourist way station to the mountains. Stephanie puller me into a tattoo parlor. She talked to the artist briefly showing him something on her phone. Then called me over. I was confused neither of us had ever even mentioned a tattoo.

"Paulie"ms Stephanie called me overthe artist had me lay on my back he had Stephanie approve the design when he stenciled it and for the next hour I laid there as I got a tattoo. I was worried since she had him make it on my lower back like it was a tramp stamp. When he was finished I saw the three rings of a chastity cuckold, hot wife, and a bull. I cried as we got on the train, this was my life now, this is who I would be. Ms Stephanie held me.

"It's just the last of that fake male ego leaving your body sweety" she told me. "Just think what mom will think when we get home" .

This made me think of our friends. My parents and brother. What would they all think. I had pink hair and purple sculped finger nails. This made me cry even more.

To be continued

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synnamonroll666 · 7 months

Text

Heavenly Touch

Prompt 13: Masturbation & Massage Pairing: Syzoth X Fem!Reader Description: Being Empress of Outworld leaves plenty of stress on your shoulders, and that stress causes all of your muscles to tense up on a regular basis in the most aching ways. Clearly, you can't rule a realm with all that tension weighing you down, right? One night, when your masseuse is unwell and unable to tend to her usual duties, you ask your trusty servant to do the job instead. And that just happens to go down a path that you did not expect to embark on... Warnings: Masturbation & Fingering (Female Receiving)... Word Count: 1.2k Main MasterList: 🖤 Kinktober MasterList: 🖤 Synny's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @queenkhepri, @bihansthot, and @mmeerraa.

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I sat on my bed as I waited for my servant to arrive. It was an unusual place for us to meet. In fact, he had never even been inside my bedroom before. But this was an urgent matter—one that broke away small barriers that a royal one would have with their servants.

It didn't take long for him to arrive, and he was polite enough to knock and wait for my approval before entering the room. Once inside, he smiled kindly at me before closing the door behind him. He was wearing his mask—as he usually would when he was on duty—but I could tell by that sweet, sparkling glint in his eyes that he had the brightest grin on his lips.

"Your majesty," he greeted me as he stepped forward and bowed loyally. "You said you needed to speak with me?

"My lovely servant, my masseuse is unwell and will not be arriving tonight. Would you mind tending to my sore muscles for me?" I asked kindly. "I'll raise your pay or even give you a day off. Whatever you wish for is yours, my dear."

"O-Oh, well, I wouldn't mind some extra pay." He chuckled rather bashfully as he raised his hand up to rub the back of his neck. "What percentage are you pondering raising my pay to?"

"We will discuss that later." I proclaimed while stretching my arms out, both of the joints in my shoulders satisfyingly popping as I did so. "For now, I just want to relax and forget about the stresses of my day."

"Of course, Empress." He nodded his head as he took off his mask and gloves, setting them down next to the jar of massage oil on my antique dresser.

I stood and reached for the drawstrings of my robe. But just before I pulled it open, I glanced up when I felt a pair of eyes still on me. Syzoth—as bright as he usually was—could still be a tiny bit naive at times. As an amused smile toyed on my lips, I moved my fingers in a "turn around" gesture. After a moment of letting it sink in, Syzoth jumped—as if the sudden realization of what I was doing startled him—before turning to face the wall.

After pulling my robe off, I laid down on my bed—face down on the mattress—while making sure the covers stayed just above my rear. After telling him that I was now decent, I could hear his movements around me—how he unscrewed the lid of the oil jar and spread it over his hands. My body tingled as I awaited his touch with anticipation.

When his hands met my back, I instantly melted into his touch. It wasn't warm—like my normal masseuse's hands were—in fact, they were cold. But surprisingly, they did just as well to tame my throbbing muscles—if not better.

I couldn't refrain from letting out a pleased moan as his strong hands worked to loosen the knots. Though I instantly took notice of how he froze when I first made the sound, and it struck me that Syzoth was a shy man—lewd noises such as that most likely made his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

The thought amused me greatly, and I decided to play a little game with my servant. When his hands went lower towards the small of my back, I let out a louder moan that sounded far from innocent. Again, his hands froze in place, and I had to bite my lower lip to refrain from snickering at my little joke.

But then another thought came into mind—one that I was sure I shouldn't have been thinking.

'I wonder just how low he would go?'

I decided against it for a moment, but then his hands moved lower to firmly caress my lower back with care. Smirking widely, I decided to follow through with my little test.

"Oh, Syzoth?" I spoke up, and he quickly withdrew his hands from my skin.

"Y-Yes, Empress?" The way a stutter broke the firmness of his words only made me want to follow through with my plan more. Perhaps I wanted to see just how much I could break him before he would tap out.

"Would you mind massaging a little lower now?" I asked before continuing with a chuckle. "That throne isn't as comfortable as it looks."

The man went silent for a moment, and I began to feel guilty about this. But that guilt didn't last for too long when he followed up on my question with an answer that surprised me.

"Y-Your rear? O-Okay. Whatever you need, Empress." He uttered quietly. He proceeded to push the sheet covering me down, revealing more of my skin. He then pressed his hands back against my back and continued firmly gliding his hands lower to the area I desired most.

I was more stunned by this than anything, and I quickly began to realize that my servant may have been more bold than I originally assumed. Was his usual shyness and act? Was he more attracted to me than I had thought? So many of these odd questions filtered through my mind as he gently caressed and kneaded my behind.

But then his hands moved in a way that shockingly confirmed all my questions.

His fingers danced across my rounded flesh until they ended up between my thighs. I let out a gasp as one of his thick digits sank deeply into my core before curling into my sweet spot with ease.

I went to roll over—to ask just what was going through his mind to make him do this—but that's when I felt a calloused hand upon my back, firmly pressing me down into the mattress.

"You say you need a back massage to relax, but I think it's something else. Relax, Empress. Let me take care of this for you." He whispered in a tone that sounded far from innocent.

Then he withdrew his finger, only to accompany it with another seconds later when he thrusted them back within my walls. I whined and pushed my face into the bedsheets to muffle my voice as his digits stretched me open, quickly finding my g-spot once again.

Another sharp gasp pulled from my throat when he slid his other hand beneath me and applied another finger to my mound, rubbing it in firm circles to add to the growing arousal I felt.

His fingers worked furiously, mixing my slick with the warm oils coating his digits. My eyes fluttered shut, and my mouth fell ajar as the air filled with the lewd sounds of my moans and the wet slapping sound of his hands making contact with my sex. By the heavens, it was the best massage I had ever been given!

I cried into the bedsheets as I quickly came undone on his fingers, and he leaned down over my body to press a soft kiss to my shoulder. In that very moment, I made a promise to myself that I would definitely pay him the amount he deserved for graciously working overtime like he had. And I would be more than willing to pay even more if he agreed to make this a regular thing. As I laid there, I smiled while one thought lingered in my mind.

'Looks like my masseuse will be looking for a new job...'

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#mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mortal kombat reptile #mk reptile #reptile #reptile x reader #mortal kombat syzoth #mk syzoth #syzoth #syzoth x reader #kinktober 2023 #SinnamonsSpicyFics

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thelittlestsquid · 8 months

Text

The Good, The Bad And... Whatever This Is - Price x F!Reader 18+!

(A/N): I really need to do serious headers. Not today tho. While I finish my König shortfic - heres some smut that ISN'T LEAVING MY HEAD. It's just a small lil thing but I have to get it out into the world. My god. I'm such a whore for this man.

Summary: There's a fine line between right and wrong... But it's blurry and Price is way too horny to care.

Warnings: 18+!, smut, slutty smut, smuuuuut, forbidden love, hidden relationship, slight choking, older man/ younger woman, office sex, language (you know me by now), Jealous sex, breeding mentions

Word count: 1.4k

Price felt like his body was overheating. Like his marrow was cooking his bones from the inside out. He was horny, so fucking horny.

The entire day he had to watch you, running around like the little sunshine you were - making him go crazy.

But he knew he couldn't pull you aside just yet. You had work to finish and so had he - but it was so fucking hard. HE was so fucking hard.

It got harder to focus on his screen. The minutes pass so slow, he wonders if time stood still just to fuck with him. The screen in front of his eyes began to blurr, his mind occupied with you.

Thats it.

Shutting off his computer with his unfinished work, he stood up. Some of his papers - he didn't care if they were important right now - flew to the ground, littering the front of his desk. He didn't waste another minute and made a beeline for the door. Right in front, he stopped himself and stared down at his bulge. Fuck. Grumbling, he stepped back and opened his belt, reaching into his pants to tuck his aching dick into the waistband of his boxers.

He strode into the corridor, knowing exactly where he needed to go. Some Privates and Seargents greeted him, even throwing respectful salutes his way - but he saw none of them. Almost like tunnel vision, he speedwalked straight into the shooting range.

There you were. Bending around a cadet, trying to make him shoot the dummies and not everything else. You're pants tightening around your ass, hugging it in a way that made him almost go crazy on the spot.

You didn't notice him, completely focused on your task. You also didn't notice the way the recruit look at you. Giving you slight side- eyes, clearly very happy how close you were.

You didn't notice. But fucking hell, Price did.

Bastard thinks he's smart, he thought as he leaned against the wall, his cock throbbing against his waistband.

''Seargent'', his low voice rumbled through the relatively quiet room, making you jump slightly. You look over your shoulder, smiling as you see the Captain.

''You need something, Cap'?'', you ask as you hand the gun to the cadet. As you fully turn around, your smile vanishes. Price looks down at you with dark eyes, a serious expression on his usually friendly face.

''I need you to come with me. Now'', not waiting for your answer, he walks back out. With a quick apology to the obviously disappointed cated, you rush out to follow him - quick footsteps following his own long strides.

Back in his office, you eye the papers on the ground. You knew John to be a very clean person. He kept his office pristine and was especially careful with his documents, no matter how important. Whatever made him leave in such a hurry, it had to be important.

You quickly learned that you worried over nothing, as John quickly shut the door, just to slam you against it.

His hands gripped your arms tightly, face only inches away from yours. As always, his breath smelled like the countless cigars he smokes on a daily basis - the scent is mixed with his natural musk and... something else. You couldn't quite place it but you didn't have to anyway - Johns lips caught yours in a heated kiss. His hands roamed your body as he breathlessly broke the kiss, his forehead touching yours.

''You having fun with the cadets, eh? Leaving me here all alone while giving them all your attention, love?'', his hands grab your chin. ''Not a good look, mh?'', you could feel his lower body press against you. You let out a whimper, not expecting to feel his bulge against you lower body. So thats what this was about. Grinning, you put a hand onto his shoulder, fingers digging into his shoulder blades, making his eyes narrow a little. With a wink, you steal a kiss from his cheek and manage to wiggle free, quickly walking to his desk.

''Oh, I had so much fun with the newbies, you know how much I like younger guys~'', you grin. Both you and John knew that was a lie, your secret relationship with the, almost twice as old as you, Captain was the proof. John chuckled under his breath and walked closer to you, not caring about the papers on the floor that got crumbled under his boots. He'd worry about them later. ''So we're lying now? I'd say that's not a good look now, is it? I thought I found myself a proper lady, not a little, lying minx'', he pinned you over his desk, even more papers flying to the ground in the process.

You smiled up at him, clearly enjoying the exchange, ''John, this is your office, what if someone comes inside and uh... sees this?'', you look towards the door, worried that your secret might come out. John, already in the process of undoing his belt, looks down at you and huffs, ''Then we gotta be fast, love, I won't last long anyways, not with how you look right now...''.

Your pants lay disregarded on the floor as Price steps between your legs, his own pants down to his ankles. He takes a moment to take in your form, legs around his waist, your hands holding - or trying to - onto the desk as you stare up at him with evident lust in your eyes. With a heavy exhale, he leaned down and wrapped a hand around your throat to gently pin you onto the desk. ''Enough talking, love. I can't hold on much longer-'', without talking any further, he grabbed your waist with his free and to ram himself inside you, making the entire desk shake.

Price threw is head back, trying to control the loud growl that threatened to escape his throat as you let out a suprised moan. Your sweet noises almost made him burst inside you on the spot, but the last bit of restraint in him held him back.

With one hand still on your throat and the other with a vice grip on your waist, he started to thrust - deep and fast strokes, making you see starts.

''Ngh, fuck- John-'', you started, a little too loud for his liking. The hand on your throat wandered up to cover your mouth, his pace slowing down. ''Calm down, love, we don't want your little cadets to hear you scream your own captains name, no? No, that wouldn't be fucking. right. - eh?'', he started his hard thrusts again, emphasizing each word with a deep, especially hard thrust that makes you see stars. He leans forward to stare into your eyes. ''How about I show them who you belong to, mh? Fuck you nice and hard, making you scream like the good fucking girl you are for me, mh? Fucking put my babies inside you, so they fucking see that. you're. fucking. taken.'', his thrusts got messier as he talked himself further into his arousal.

He grabbed your shoulders to press you into the desk and hid his face in your neck as he let out a deep growl, emptying himself inside you, making you whimper against the side of his head.

''Fucking hell, sweetheart... you're making me go crazy, you know that?'', he mumbles breathlessly in the crook of your neck, leaving a kiss there before he stood back up.

He stared down at your form, still laying on his desk, in a daze. He wondered how he ever deserved you, a young and talented girl. A beautiful woman. John himself wasn't getting any younger but the fact that you still ignored all the rules to stay with him and almost force him to admit his feelings...

You were everything he ever wanted, yet he couldn't risk showing you off, even if he so desperately wanted to.

Blinking, you looked up at John, grinning slightly. ''Are you thinking again? Well, if you have time for that, I believe still have time for another round?~'', you pull him closer with your legs around his pelvis.

Price chuckled and let himself glide inside you again.

Yeah no, he wouldn't risk having to let you go. Ever.

#i kinda want to make this into an entire fanfic tbh #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw #john price #captain john price #price x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price smut #smut #female reader #fem! reader #price x fem! reader

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macatt4c · 7 months

Text

Decided to share a short and sweet post-canon fic of Astarion and my Tav, a nobleborn high-elf bard named Sienna!

TW!!! Pregnancy, Body Image Issues, Shitty Nobility Rules, Angst with Happy Ending!

Fic under the cut <3

“Hells.”

Astarion’s head rose from the novel in his lap to gaze at his wife, who was standing sideways before the tall mirror at the other end of their private chamber. His beloved Sienna had pulled her pale nightdress high enough to reveal the full expanse of her swollen protruding stomach.

“Something the matter, darling?” He asked, flipping the novel close and depositing it onto the side table as he stood from the velvet armchair.

Sienna did not move from her stance, her hand gliding slowly over her belly as she spoke. “Had I always been so… protruding?”

Astarion couldn’t help the chuckle rumbling from his throat. “You are pregnant, my love. Your body is going to change for our little one to grow.” He came to stand at her side. “You knew of this, did you not?”

Sienna sighed, her fingers tracing a stretch mark just below her ribcage. “I know the whole point with pregnancy is that you get bigger because there is a whole person growing inside you. But…” She sighed before finally rolling her dress back to its original knee length. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

Sienna’s words made Astarion frown. He was no stranger to the disdain of one’s own body. Hells, he himself just settled his own personal battle with self image, but that was only thanks to his beloved’s support. So here she was, experiencing something he thought was impossible for them to achieve, and she could only see what she perceived as negative changes to her form. A lasting effect of her noble upbringing, he had no doubt.

“Pregnancy for noblewomen wasn’t seen as a blessing or a gift.” Sienna began to explain, now turning to stare straight into the mirror. “It was our duty, something we are expected to do. Our worth is measured by how many children we can pop out before it kills us.” She let out a chuckle, but Astarion could tell it was forced. “My mother is a prime example of it.”

Ah, yes. The envious world of the nobility. Astarion has had his share of experiences gliding amongst the upper echelons of Baldurian high society. He had seen countless pretty young ladies be married off and then disappear from time to time to bear their husbands’ children. It was a side of this artificially-glittering world he did not pay much mind to, but any person with a brain comprehended the utter bullshit noble ladies had to deal with on a daily basis. But now here he was, married to a noble lady, a noble lady with the same fears and anxieties he once scoffed and rolled his eyes at. It was almost enough to make his barely-beating heart ache.

Cold hands came to hold Sienna’s shoulders as Astarion stood tall behind her. He knew she could not see him, but her just feeling him was enough. His eyes stared forward, intensely at the downcasted eyes of her reflection.

“You of all people should know how foolish such thoughts are, darling.” He spoke. “You have proven time and time again that you are more than just some daughter of a count. You are the hero of Baldur’s Gate and have done more than enough to earn a peaceful life.” He huffed before gently turning her around to face him. “You are worth more to me than just your womb. You are my love, my wife, and soon the mother of my child. You have given more to me than I believe I deserve. You deserve all the love I and our little one will give you. Do you understand, darling?”

There was no missing the tears filling the elf’s gray eyes as she pushed forward to hug him, burying her face in his shoulder. It was somewhat difficult due to the size of her belly, but Astarion didn’t care. He was more than happy to give his beloved wife the love and affection she needed. His words were not empty and honeyed like the ones he used when they first met, no these were words of sincerity and truth. Every syllable was filled with a mere fraction of the love he felt for her. Even after the few years they spent together, it never failed to scare him just how much he loved this woman.

After a few more moments of their silent embrace, Sienna stepped back slightly to gaze at Astarion’s face. “You are so good to me.”

Naturally, Astarion smirked. “Glad of you to take notice. I work far too hard to have such an oblivious wife.”

The snarky response elicited a giggle from Sienna before it was cut off by a jolt from her stomach. Concern filled Astarion’s eyes before Sienna’s smile returned.

“I’m alright.” She assured him. “I believe the baby just kicked me.”

This reply did nothing to relieve the vampire’s concern. “I’m sorry- the baby kicked you?”

Sienna nodded. “It’s called the ‘quickening’ in the motherhood journal I’m reading. The baby has developed legs and is learning to use them. It’s not painful, just… strange, I suppose.”

Just then, she took Astarion’s hand and pressed it into the underside of her belly. After a few moments, Astarion felt it: a thump against his palm. His eyes widened at the sensation, bright red irises shining in wonder, all while his wife smiled back at him.

“How… How is this possible?” Astarion’s voice didn’t rise above a whisper.

“It is a part of life, dear husband.” She said softly, her free hand coming up to cup his cheek. “A life we created.”

The couple stood there for a few more moments of silence before a yawn would finally rip its way through Sienna. A glance towards the window was enough for her to see it was already late and now would be a great time for both her and the child within her to rest. Astarion wasted no time leading her to the bed and pulling the covers back for her to crawl under. But instead of making his routined exit to hunt for his dinner, the vampire instead slipped into bed beside his wife, his head resting sideways on her belly.

“Are you not hungry tonight?” Sienna asked with a frown.

Astarion shook his head. “I am, but that can wait. I merely wish to spend some quality time with my child.”

Sienna chuckled and rolled her eyes. “As you wish. But don’t stay too long. I’d hate for you to starve.”

The vampire smiled and brought a hand to rest gently atop her belly. “I promise, my dear. Just a bit longer.”

#inqyhawke #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate tav #tav x astarion #oc fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #baldurs gate fanfiction

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selfawarejester · 2 years

Text

True North | Edward Elric

pairing: edward elric x gn!reader

summary: ed has thoughts about his soulmate. Soulmate AU, fluff/angst.

word count: 1.5k

a/n: instead of doing my English assignment (which is the same amount of words, mind you), I decided to do this. First fic for the FMA fandom (finally)! Please enjoy <3

Ed could be considered the perfect example of a man of science. After all, despite all his loud and often-inflammatory (to his poor brother’s lament) proclamations against God, he treated science, specifically Alchemy, as a sort of religion itself — he knelt at its altars (or the arrays) and clasped his hands together “in prayer” to make miracles happen. Miracles that were completely logical and comprehensible to him, regardless of their complexity or intricacy.

But one thing still baffled him: one thing that was proven and real, and yet had no scientific basis whatsoever.

The soulmate bond.

Plenty of alchemists have been trying to figure it out for centuries. What makes one seek out their so-called “one true love”? What causes the tug, the force of which increased every passing year after one’s 15th birthday, or the closer you were to that person? What are the deciding factors as to one’s soulmate? These were questions that were slaved over, entire lives spent trying to puzzle out, volumes upon volumes of journals and articles dedicated to the phenomenon; and yet, there was no conclusive answer.

He didn’t like not having answers.

He especially didn’t like how crazy it drove his little brother.

“But isn’t it wonderful to think about, Brother?” He bites back a groan, but still rolls his eyes violently as Al started on another rant about the phenomenon. “A tangible link to the person you’re fated to be with!”

“Yeah, it’s a real doozy.” Ed mumbles, rolling his eyes. “Can we maybe get back to our research?”

Al sighs, and even though he can’t see it, he knows the brat’s shooting him that look — “Why are you so pig-headed, Brother?”, he can hear his innocent little voice.

“Brother…” Al starts off, armor creaking as he shifts behind him. “Haven’t you gotten your soulmate link yet?”

Ed stiffens, page in mid-turn.

Alphonse had been kind enough not to ask, but he’s been expecting the kid to pop the question for weeks now. After all, there was no one more romantic than his little brother; that much was obvious from the novels he snuck around and hid from him.

(And who could have given him those novels except-)

He shakes his head, knocking the thoughts of that person out as well.

“Sorry to disappoint, bud.” He sounds more confident than he feels, that eternal pressure tugging behind his sternum again. “Do me a favor and go through that pile over there, okay-?”

“And you call the Colonel a slavedriver.” A dulcet voice tsks behind him and he stiffens again.

Alphonse doesn’t notice, too caught up in greeting you, clambering up with a delighted call of your name.

The pressure burns now, causing a tremendous aching that makes him squeeze his eyes shut to push past it.

It just had to be you, didn’t it?

He flashes a smile over his shoulder, lifting his hand in a slight wave before going back to his research. Another person might be offended, but of course you aren’t.

You’re an understanding person, after all, who (as a part-time employee) sees all types in this library that the Elrics put up shop in for days at a time.

You’re a sweet person, who smiles gently when you not-so-subtly threaten to kick them out if they don’t take care of themselves.

It’s not that surprising it’s you.

For a little while, he thought it was Winry, as his heart kept tugging endlessly towards the direction in which the train to Resembool always ran.

It’s not until a month after his birthday that you returned, recounting your hometown visit (only a town over from where he grew up), and his chest almost exploded as you walked in, that he realized who his soulmate was.

There could have been worse soulmates, he thought as he watched you speak to Alphonse over his shoulder, not nearly as sly as he wished to be.

You and Al were such great friends — sure, it pissed him off a little, doubly jealous as both of you took up so much of the other’s attention — but it would’ve devastated him if you guys couldn’t get along.

You weren’t difficult on the eyes either — but that could have been the effect of his feelings or the soulmate bond, because though you were the most gorgeous thing he ever laid eyes on, he knew logically that you couldn’t have been the prettiest person in the world… but it sure did feel like it, though.

You were pretty smart — of course, he wouldn’t have cared if you weren’t, not everyone could be the prodigies he and his brother were, but he liked that you could follow along with the basics of what he was saying… even if you were completely uninterested in alchemy.

Which brought him to perhaps your most important quality, your patience. You sat there, day in and day out, listening to his rants and rambles even when it got to the point that common courtesy would have allowed you to flip him off and walk away.

And you just watched him from under Alphonse’s arm with gentle eyes, even though you both knew you were each other’s soulmates.

“Before I forget,” You interrupt Al, looking apologetic. “That new book you were asking about-“

“The one with the-?!” Al stops abruptly, snapping to look at Ed — who, in a moment of utter grace, flips around hard enough to bang both his elbow and his knee on the table.

But the pain and embarrassment might have been worth it to hear your laugh, loud and snorting and musical to his ears.

“I’ll go pick it up right now.” Al whispers way too loud, making you snicker. “Go distract Brother.”

“You got it!” You whisper just as loud, and Al giggles before sneaking off.

Ed bites the inside of his cheek, trying to will his cheeks back to their normal color when you plop down next to him, leaning your head on your palm.

“You ever gonna tell Alphonse? Or even make a move on me?” You were blunt too, awesomely to-the-point even to military officials like State Alchemists. Even Mustang went silent that one time you saw him berating your soulmate and stepped in, asking him about a book that was considerably overdue. He walked away with his chin held high, yet trembling under the disapproving glare of the Lieutenant.

Ed sighs. He knows you deserve better than him. He’s not unaware of how painful this if for you — it’s just as bad for him. He was never interested in romance or soulmates beyond a few discussions between the brothers and Winry about what they wanted their soulmates to be like… which usually ended with Alphonse rolling his eyes and Winry declaring that he would die alone.

He remembers declaring that he would be fine if he never had a soulmate. After all, his mom and that tall, bearded jerk who fathered him were soulmates. The stories their mother told the boys, twinkly-eyes and nostalgic, were what rooted their views on the concept: Alphonse yearned for it, deeply, and Ed grew bitter about it, understanding that even soulmates could ditch you and your two kids.

Until he met you, and suddenly he wanted… more. He wanted to try, to learn, for you. He knew you deserved so much, and even though he wasn’t sure he could give them to you, he wanted so bad to try. He was overcome with guilt and longing every time he saw your beautiful eyes.

But there was another guilt, a greater guilt and responsibility that came first. He mumbled your name forlornly, wishing so bad that he could say it the way he wanted to.

“I have to focus on this first. You know-“

“I know, I know.” You nod, but your eyes at downcast now, and he hates himself so much more now. “It would be nice to be acknowledged, though.”

He leans forward, putting his hand over yours.

You gasp; Ed’s not one to initiate physical contact, having jumped away the first time your skin touched his. The intense look in his eyes as they fix on your face doesn’t help, either.

“I’m gonna do right by you.” He swears right then and there, in his sacred place of worship, surrounded by the greatest works on Alchemy. “I’ll get mine and Al’s bodies back, and I’ll come find you.”

“Yeah?” You breathe out, eloquence stolen from you by his determination.

“Yeah.” He nods, squeezing your hand, a small smile curling up his lips. “I’ll take you to that café you like. It’ll be nice.”

A sudden urge to take it back, to pick another destination you might like better throws him; a café, how dumb was that?! You went there all the time! He couldn’t think of anything better than that?!

But you surprise him, laughing and biting your lip.

“Sounds great.” You say, completely genuine. At the sound of heavy footsteps, you rise, readying yourself to take your leave.

As you round the bookshelf that obscures his workspace from the rest of the world however, you stop for a moment, looking back.

“And once you’re done, you know how to find me.”

And you go, with a cute smile on your face.

And his heart tugs.

#edward elric x reader #alphonse elric x reader #only platonically alas #it’s a travesty that there are so little fics about these two #ed may get the girl in this one but I’ve got your back alphonse!#background Roy/Riza if you squint and apply a romantic subtext #gabiwrites #fullmetal alchemist #fma #fmab x reader

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