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musette22 · 1 year

Note

can i have a soft bucky-supporting-steve headcanon? ive had a tough couple weeks and today is no different (mad at everything, head hurts, waiting for the police to call me because i lost my wallet yesterday, my self-loathing is screaming right now, etc)

thanks. sorry. but thanks.

Hey, lovely! ❤️ I’m so sorry to hear you’ve been having such a rough time lately, that sounds like a lot. I hope things get better for you soon, and in the meantime, have this.

---

When Bucky came back, after he’d figured things out enough to be able to justify it to himself to come back to Steve, he noticed that Steve didn’t seem to draw much these days. Didn’t draw anymore at all. At first, Bucky thought that maybe Steve was just preoccupied. Too busy, too distracted, which would’ve been understandable, given everything they’d both been through recently.

But then, Bucky started to notice moments when Steve would get that expression on his face that meant he’d seen something particularly interesting or captivating, something he was itching to commit to paper (more than once, Bucky found that look directed at himself). The expression was usually accompanied by a twitch of Steve’s fingers, an unconscious spasm of his hand, as if he was reaching for a pencil that wasn’t there. The next time Steve was away on a mission, Bucky searched the entire house from top to bottom, but apart from a few ballpoint pens and the notebook they used to make their grocery lists, he’d found no art paraphernalia whatsoever. Nothing to indicate that Steve still drew, or had drawn anytime in the recent past.

That's not right, Bucky thought, frowning to himself.

He may not remember everything, but he sure as hell remembered the way their old tenement apartment had always been littered with sketchbooks and pencils, strewn around the living room and bedroom, even the bathroom on occasion. He remembered Steve’s hands, perpetually stained by charcoal, the smudges of paint on his cheeks. There were no stains or smudges on Steve anywhere, these days. Bucky would know. He'd checked. Thoroughly.

When Bucky had asked Steve about it the following night, Steve confirmed Bucky’s suspicions: he hadn't drawn in a long, long time.

“Why not?” Bucky had asked.

Steve had shrugged, looking down at his hands. “I stopped, after you- after you fell.” He swallowed, giving a single shake of his head. “I tried, later. God, I must've picked up my pencil a dozen times. But whenever I started drawing, no matter what I did, I’d always end up sketching your face. It just hurt too much. So I stopped.”

Bucky had held him for a long time, after that. Sitting side by side on the couch, just letting Steve lean into him, ear resting on Bucky’s chest, over his heart.

“I’m back now,” Bucky had said, after a while.

“You are,” Steve replied, his voice thick with suppressed emotion.

“So don’t you think it might be time you started drawing again? You used to love it, Stevie. I remember. I remember I used to love watching you.”

“I don’t know if I still can.”

Steve had sounded so lost, right then. So forlorn. Not for the first time, it had made Bucky want to fall to his knees and thank whoever was up there for allowing him to return to this man in his arms, to be here for Steve again, after everything. Steve had his team now, sure, but they didn’t know him like Bucky did. They didn’t always didn't notice when Steve's steady, solid exterior started to show cracks, or how to fix them. They didn't know how absorbed Steve used to get in his art, how it had brought color to his usually pale cheeks, allowed him to quieten his mind and shake off the worries that incessantly plagued him, even if only for a little while.

If Bucky hadn’t come back, would no one ever have remembered any of that? The thought alone was enough to break Bucky’s heart.

When Steve had told him that he wasn’t sure if he could still draw, Bucky had ached to tell him that he could do everything he set his mind to. He was ready to list every single thing Steve had achieved in his long life, to tell him over and over again that he’d never known anyone more talented, more capable, that he just needed to pick up a pencil and start, and the rest would follow. But he knew that Steve would just let the words roll off, too stubborn by half to be persuaded by something so trivial as mere words. From experience, Bucky knew that actions were far more effective in getting Steve to come around to a certain idea than words could ever be.

So Bucky took the long road. Over the weeks that followed, he started ordering art supplies online, to be delivered when Steve was out (Bucky still didn’t like to leave the house by himself, but thanks to the excellent invention of online shopping, he rarely needed to). A variety of pencils, sketchbooks, brushes and watercolors, even a small easel that Bucky hid behind their shared wardrobe – all delivered right to their doorstep. Then, Bucky started leaving items around the house, one at a time.

The first time Steve noticed the small sketchbook that Bucky had casually left on the coffee table that morning, he’d picked it up and looked at it for a long while, before putting it back down. Though Bucky could feel Steve’s eyes on him, he didn’t acknowledge his silent question. The next day, Bucky put a pencil next to the sketchbook. Steve noticed it mid-sentence, abruptly falling silent as he picked it up and held it in his hand, as if trying to get a feel for it. Eventually, he put it back down on top of the sketchbook, and headed for the kitchen to get started on dinner.

This continued for a couple of weeks. Sometimes, when Bucky saw Steve picking up and putting down the various items he’d left for him without using them, even though Bucky could see he wanted to, he just wanted grab Steve by his ridiculously broad shoulders and shake him. But he didn’t. If his time as the Winter Soldier had taught Bucky anything, it was the value of playing the long game; the virtue of patience.

And finally, his patience paid off.

One quiet day in early October, Bucky dozed off on the couch while reading his book. When he awoke, he found himself lying directly in a beam of late afternoon sun, its warmth enveloping him like the blanket his ma used to cover him with whenever he’d fallen asleep on the couch as a kid, making him feel safe and loved; cherished. It took Bucky a while to realize that it wasn’t just the sun that made him feel that way, today. Turning his head a fraction, he found Steve sitting opposite him in the ochre armchair they’d picked out together the other week, his eyes fixed on Bucky and his hand flying over the pages of his sketchbook where it was perched on his lap.

Bucky smiled, slow and pleased. Steve didn’t seem to have noticed that Bucky had woken up, engrossed as he was in what he was doing, so Bucky stayed put and just watched him work, letting Steve draw him for as long as he needed to.

When Steve finally closed his sketchbook with a deep sigh, blinking a few times as he slowly became aware of his surroundings again, Bucky got up off the couch. He stretched like a cat, walked over to Steve, and planted himself squarely in his lap.

“I’m proud of you,” he told Steve, draping his arms around Steve’s neck as Steve’s automatically wound around Bucky’s waist.

“I’m a little rusty,” Steve hedged, his voice husky with disuse and emotion, “but… I don’t think it’s gone altogether. It's still in there somewhere. Just gotta practice, I s’pose.”

Bucky hummed, resting his forehead against Steve’s. “I suppose you do. ‘S a good thing you’ve got such an excellent model, huh?”

Steve huffed a laugh, his arms tightening around Bucky’s waist. “Jerk.”

“Punk,” Bucky said, and pressed a soft kiss to Steve's lips.

#I hope this was more or less what you were looking for nonnie!#sending you lots of love #<333 #stucky #I wrote this in record time #then pressed the wrong button and lost it all #then rewrote it again in record time #word for word #idek how but hey it worked out #remind me to never write directly in my asks again though #minnie answers

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nanaslutt · 7 months

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gojo making you ride his hard fucking abs

well HELLOOO to you too nonnie, this is so brilliant

this scenario makes my brain feel like mush, thank yew so much for the ask babe<3

contains: fem reader, body worship, praising gojo, dirty talk, finger sucking, nipple play, size kink, humping, use of ‘pretty’ and baby’ for reader, gojo cums untouched

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

it was a gloomy morning, gojos oversized button up shirt draped over your figure, elbows perched on the back of the couch as your hands cradled your chin, staring out the tall windows of gojo’s penthouse and down on the common people that were just starting their day

the savory smell of bacon and pancakes cooking filling your nose as you crane your neck to the side to watch your handsome boyfriend prepare breakfast for the two of you

eyes fliting down to his bare torso, abs practically glowing under the hanging fluorescent lights, muscles on his pecs rippling every time he rotates his body, biceps flexing as he mixes more pancake batter together,

pink tongue sticking out against his upper lip as he concentrates on not burning the bacon, how he looked so naturally beautiful always baffled you, his pretty face looking so serious has you smiling to yourself

an intense itch in your brain coming on telling you that you needed to have your hands on your stupidly attractive boyfriend right this second has you pushing yourself up from the couch, strolling over to his massive figure,

creeping behind him, and pressing your tits and the side of your face into his back, wrapping your arms around him, fingers landing exactly where you wanted them to; right on his rock hard abs,

“got tired of people watchin baby?” he smiles feeling your hands caress up his naked chest,

“you’re much more pleasing to watch,” you hum into his solid back,

“seems like i’m pleasing to touch too,” he retorts smugly when your smaller hands start groping his pecs, “my pretty girl is so handsy this morning.”

you have the most satisfied look on your face, unable to believe this rock solid mountain of a man was all yours to touch whenever you wanted

running your hands down the sides of his slutty little waist and up back over his rippling abs, tracing your fingers in the indents between them

his heart rate is picking up the longer he feels your cold hands run over his body, huffing out quiet breathless laughs, looking down at you as your maneuver your body in front of him now,

squished between his large figure and the counter, “ur abs are so fucking hot toru.” you practically moans out, splaying your fingers out over them, leaning into him to pepper kisses right under his pecs,

breath hitching as he looks between the food still cooking on the stove, and your clearly aroused face, leaving hot kisses and licks on his sensitive body,

“ur so distracting baby, gonna make me burn the food i’m workin so hard on for you.” he forces out a laugh, feeling his cock twitch in his pants, growing harder the longer he feels your soft lips on him

“don’ mind me, jus’ appreciating my boyfriends sexy body,” you speak in between kisses,

now he wants to laugh for real, it’s kinda hard to stay focused on the task at hand when your hands are sliding over the deep cuts of his v-line, fingers so very close to the hem of his baggy sweats,

sliding down between the counter and his strong legs, balancing your ass on the heels of your feet as you start to practically makeout with his abs, feeling the vibrations on his tummy as you let out small moans into him,

“h-aaah baby cmon,” he turns off the stove with one hand, shoving both pans off the heat and onto the back burners, running his large fingers through your hair

you lean into the touch affectionately, fingers smoothing over his lithe figure where your lips can’t reach from your current position between his legs, “thought you woke up starving huh?” he states, making eye contact with you, veiw slightly blocked by the massive bulge he’s now sporting in his sweats,

you look up at him through your lashes,”hungry for somethin else now,” smiling, you standing back up, sliding your fingers underneath the band of his sweats and teasing the tips of your fingers there for a second before walking away, using the hold you had on him to pull him along with you like a dog,

“oh, where are you takin me cutie?” his eyebrows shoot up, happily trailing behind you

spinning him in front of you, you pushed him down onto to the couch you were resting against prior to the attack you assaulted on your boyfriend,

he lets himself relax into the cushions, hand sticking out to caress your thigh as you reach underneath your (his) shirt and slide your panties off your ankles before straddling his waist, core placed right over his lower abs,

“want you to just lay there toru,” you lean down into his ear and whisper, making a open mouthed toothy grin appear on his handsome face, “yeah? you gunna ride my abs baby?”, he breaths out, landing heavy hands down on your ass with a smack, massaging your cheeks in his massive palms,

“mhm,” you whimper, pulling your shirt up between your teeth, beginning to rotate your hips in small circles, pressing your soaking cunt into him

“oh shit, you for real? gonna get ur wet little cunt off by rubbin on my muscles?” he bites his lip watching the scene unfold

breath hitching, you stared intently down at where your leaking pussy meets his abs, humping your hips back and forth now, clit catching on the deep indents of his solid core,

“fuck t-toru,” throwing your head back you let the shirt between your drop, covering your body once more, humping him with a newfound vigor

he’s breathing so heavy watching you use him to get yourself off, his neglected cock twitching for attention as he pulls and pushes your ass cheeks together, helping you rub yourself off on him faster,

“makin such a mess on me, look how fucking wet you are!” he groans, pushing the shirt back up your body so he can get a good view of the juices from your cunt flooding his torso,

“feel good baby? i can feel your pussy twitching, she wanna get filled up after you cum all over me?” he’s babbling, feeling on the verge of cumming himself, not even having touched his cock, just from watching your reactions to grinding hard on him, and feeling how you squeezed around nothing at his filthy words,

“y-yeah toru, feels so fucking perfect oh my g-god,” high pitched moans leaving your mouth, one of your hands that was previously on his chest helping you hold yourself up was now sliding up his solid figure, two of your fingers sliding in his open mouth,

closing his lips around them and sucking, using his tongue to lick around them, feeling the vibrations of his moans shake your digits

hes rolling his eyes back, massaging your ass impossibly harder before youre popping your fingers out of his mouth and tracing your spit covered digest down his neck,

reaching his nipples you make quick circles over the hardening pink buds, he bites his lip and throws his head back, trying not to moan like a little bitch at the new sensation,

hes flexing his abs in perfect time with your thrusts, clit getting the perfect stimulation you needed, “please don’t stop p-please please” you’re babbling, hips losing their rhythm and moans getting higher and higher, shorter and shorter, little “ah ah ah!”s leaving you,

“yesyesyes give it to me pretty give it to me, cum all over me, need ‘t feel it please,” he huffs out, he’s mirroring your expression with a slacked jaw, watching intently as your hips almost come to a complete stop before you he feels your cunt gush,

squeezing around his torso with your thighs, your back arches forward each time you’re hit with a wave of your orgasm, barely able to rock on him by yourself anymore from the intensity of your orgasm, he took it upon himself to use your ass to rock you back and forth on his abs, helping you ride it out,

both of you breathing rapidly when you finally come down from your high, looking down at his chiseled body to see the absolute mess you made, abs really glowing now from the sheen of cum you left on him,

“looks like that felt ‘s fucking good,” he says with a dopey grin on his face, chest heaving, your arms fall back behind you to brace yourself, one accidentally landing on his crotch and you freeze

turning you torso and neck in time you look down at his once light gray sweats and see a big damp spot on his crotch, cock twitching in the aftershocks underneath it, when you turn back around he’s looking more fucked out than ever, “looks like i wasn’t the only one who got off on that,” you giggle, breakfast he was working so hard on long forgotten about

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fandoms-writings · 6 months

Text

Now or Never

Pairing: Best-Friend!Bucky x Virgin!Reader (fem intended)

Word Count: 6.2K (it was supposed to be a drabble oops)

Summary: Based off the prompts "You know my door is always open for you, right?" and "You're already wet sweetheart." for my milestone event, requested by nonnie.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, mentions of a bad date, explicit p in v sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, swearing, bucky talks a lot in bed, weed and alcohol consumption. (if I missed any, please let me know)

A/N: thank you so so much to @bucksangel and @itistimeforusalltodecidewhoweare for beta reading for me, i love you both so so much.

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist

You sat in your car, frustration and disappointment rolling off of you in waves.

Another bad date, another guy just obsessed with hearing himself talk and not once allowing you to get a word in. That topped with how he called you a prude at the end left the worst taste in your mouth.

You didn't want to go home to your empty apartment, already sick of the silence filling your car, so you scrolled through your contacts, thinking who would be up for hanging out with so little notice.

Your lip found its way between your teeth as you passed your best friend's name. You weren't sure if he'd be busy or not, or if he'd be in the mood to hang out, but seeing him would help your mood. Plus. . . you blanched at the image that clouded your mind. Maybe he could help with your little problem - if you had the guts to even ask.

You pressed the dial button before you could talk yourself out of it, waiting for him to pick up as you chewed on your nail.

Just when you were about to hang up, giving up for the night, the tone clicked and his voice filtered through the speaker.

"Hey Peach," His voice was gruff and you could feel some of your frustration ebbing away already, "What's going on?"

"Hey, Buck," You sighed, "Are you busy?"

"Not currently, why?"

"Can I come over for a minute?"

"Aren't you supposed to be on a date?" He chuckled. You could hear him shuffling through what you assumed was his kitchen, the opening and closing of cupboards sounding through the little speaker.

"I was." You didn't give him anymore than that, and he was only silent for a small moment before he hummed.

"Alright, get your cute butt over here so you can tell me all about it," He ordered and you couldn't help the heat that grew in your skin at the compliment. "Want me to pack a bowl too?"

You giggled at that before agreeing. "After today, please. I'll pay you back for it."

"How many times do I gotta tell you not to worry about that?" He laughed, "Now get over here. Drive safe."

"I will." You hung up the phone with a sigh before starting your car and heading over to his place, but not before stopping and picking up a bottle of wine on the way.

It wasn't long before you were hiking up the steps to the house he rented. It was small, and not in the best neighborhood, but he didn't have to worry about sharing walls with anyone else and it was bigger than your apartment, so you didn't mind. Plus, you knew he'd never let anything happen to you.

He pulled open the door before you had a chance to knock, giving you a grin that was equally empathetic as it was smug. He liked to relish in the fact that he always knew guys weren't going to be good enough for you, telling you before every date you went on that it'd be a waste of time.

But that didn't mean that he was happy you weren't having a good time.

"Come on," He reached his hand out for you, "Let's get you giggly again."

You chuckled at that before landing the bottle of wine in his outstretched hand, the raise of his eye brows pulling up the corners of your lips.

"Super giggly is the goal then." He stepped away from the door, letting you in before closing and locking it behind you.

"You sure you don't mind me dropping by this late?"

He scoffed at that, leading the way to his kitchen and pulling out two wine glasses, "You know my door is always open for you, right?"

You shrugged, "I know that, but still, you can always tell me no."

"Now, Peach, why would I do that? I'm not going to say no to hanging out with my favorite person." Heat spread through your skin again at his words, and the teasing wink he threw your way.

You didn't mind that he flirted with you, whether flirting was his intention or not, you weren't quite sure. But either way, it made you feel somewhat seen. Liked.

"I thought Steve was your favorite person," You lifted yourself onto his countertop, hissing at the cold that met your thighs. You cursed the version of yourself that decided shorts were a good idea. "It'd be a shame if he heard that wasn't true."

"He knows where he stands with me, don't worry." He handed you a poured glass, clinking his own against it before leaning against the opposite counter. "Now, do you want to tell me what happened now, or do you want to smoke first?"

You chuckled at that, taking a sip of your wine, "How about I tell you while we smoke, then by the time we're good and high, I don't have to think about it anymore?"

He gave you one of his little grins, nodding his head. "You got it."

You followed him outside, getting comfortable in the large papasan chair as he plugged in the string of lights hung over the small porch. He got comfortable in his seat before offering you the bong and a lighter, letting you take the first drag.

It didn't take long to fill Bucky in on what had transpired on your date. How Mark didn't even try to act interested in anything you had to say. How he'd made you meet him at the restaurant instead of offering to pick you up, which in the end ended up being a silver lining because you didn't have to ask him to drive you home.

You'd gotten to the part where your date had called you a prude and what you'd told him to cause that comment, and the words caught in your throat. You'd never told Bucky you were a virgin, not that it mattered, you knew he wouldn't judge you for it. It was just something that never came up.

Maybe it was what happened tonight, the comments and the way your date acted afterwards, that made you not want to tell him. Or maybe it was the pity in his eyes that had grown since you'd started your story. Or. . . or it could've been the rather not small bit of your heart that belonged to him already that stopped you. If others didn't like that you were a virgin in your twenties, and didn't want to be with someone so inexperienced, why would he?

He caught on to your hesitation, setting the bong down as he turned to face you with his brows pulled forward.

"What happened?" He asked, and you looked to your lap, pulling your feet under you and wrapping your sweater around you.

You could tell him, you knew he wouldn't judge you, wouldn't tease you for it. You knew that, so why was it so hard to tell him when you told anyone else without a care in the world? You sighed, barely meeting his gaze.

"Promise me you won't judge me?" You whispered and he leaned forward.

"I'd never judge you for anything. I promise."

You nodded, more to yourself in reassurance to let the words out. "The only thing he either heard me say about myself, or that he decided to pay attention to, was the fact that I'm a virgin," You refused to meet Bucky's gaze as he went still, "That seemed to get his attention because then he started assuming I was going home with him after he pretty much ignored me all night. Like I was some prize to be won. A trophy."

You took a breath taking a small glance at Bucky to see his eyes trained on your face, but no emotion peaking through his features other than his fists clenched in his lap, knuckles white.

"When I told him I was just gonna go home, his attitude shifted again and he proceeded to call me a selfish prude." The words rang in your head again, his mocking tone clear in your ears before you forced yourself to push it out.

Bucky still hadn't said anything, his red eyes locked on your form, tucked into your chair as you reached for your wine glass. It wasn't until you'd taken a lengthy sip and had the cup nestled in your hands in your lap that he spoke up.

"You deserve better than that," He started, "And I'm sorry that he treated you like that, Peach."

Looking over to him, you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the heaviness in them as he refused to look away. You shrugged mumbling that it's fine before looking down to your wine glass again. "I don't really want to dwell on it."

"Okay," He angled his head to catch your eye, giving you a soft smile. "You just let me know when you want me to kick this guy's ass and consider it done."

You laughed at that, clutching your glass in your lap so it didn't fall. He smirked at you, seemingly pleased with himself for getting you to laugh as he leaned back in his chair.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked after a moment.

Your focus zeroed in on him, his arm thrown over the curved back of his chair, one of his legs folded under the other, his free hand resting on his thigh as he studied you. You swallowed around the dryness in your mouth and nodded.

"Is there a. . . specific reason you're still a virgin?" He asked. You could tell he wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable, he was genuinely curious.

"I guess I was scared at first," You started, remembering how you felt in high school when your best friend told you about how she'd lost her virginity. The idea always seemed daunting, like it was something you were supposed to do to 'become an adult.' But it was intimidating. "I didn't want to force it, wanted it to be something natural, I guess."

"And you haven't had anyone to give you that chance?"

You stilled for a second, shaking your head.

He hummed, at your silence, or your answer, you couldn't tell, but he fell quiet after that, staring at the trees in the yard.

You finished your glass of wine and set it aside, you fingers beginning to slightly numb in the cold before you tucked them into your legs, your mind starting to get fuzzy. You couldn't tell if it was the wine or the weed starting to kick in that made you ask, "Is it a bad thing?"

He whipped his head towards you, his brows pulled together in confusion. "Being a virgin?" At your tentative nod, his face softened and he shook his head, "Not at all."

"Then why do people act like the guy tonight whenever they find out?" You muttered and he sighed, shifting so that he was leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Maybe it's intimidating, being someone's first."

Your eyes refused to leave his, your nerves starting to warm as you asked, "What about you?" You asked, readjusting in your seat to angle yourself more towards him, "Would you be intimidated?"

He simply stared at you for a moment before shaking his head, "No." There was something about the way he said it, the roughness of his voice and the confidence in his short answer, that had you trying to subtly clench your thighs together.

You hated to admit it, but you'd thought about it before. Hell, you thought about it on the way over. About sleeping with him. About his rough hands on your skin, what it would feel like to have his lips on yours, his fingers in -

"You okay?" His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked back to him, heat rising up the back of your neck. You went to tell him you were fine, that you just wanted to get a drink, maybe watch a movie, but a voice in the back of your head grew too loud to ignore. "Peach?"

The voice told you to ask him for it. To ask him to be your first. You trusted him with your life, you'd trust him with taking your virginity too. You know you would. But you couldn't ask that. What if he said no? What if he was mortified? It wasn't something you could just tell him to pretend you didn't ask for, that's not how that worked.

He was still staring at you, allowing you to have as long as you needed before you told him whatever it was that was going through your head.

Now or never, the voice reminded you, and you took a breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable rejection you felt you knew he was going to give you.

"I'm over it," You muttered, and before he could ask what you were talking about, "I don't want to be a virgin anymore." He watched you, unsure if you were finished speaking yet, but when the words died on your tongue, he nodded.

"Okay," His voice was rough and hoarse and dangerously quiet as he waited to hear what you wanted to do about what you'd said.

"I trust you," You whispered, "More than anyone." His eyes widened just a fraction as you stared at him. Your hands gripped your legs as you mustered up just enough courage to get the words out, "Would. . . would you be my first?"

The confusion fell from his face, concern taking its place. He cleared his throat and his voice was dangerously low, “Is this the wine talking?”

Your heart fell, you knew you shouldn’t have asked. You knew. Yet you asked anyway. You let out a shaky breath, moving to stand. “I shouldn’t have asked, forget about it.” You stood, moving to pick up what needed to go inside when his hand grasped yours.

“That’s not. . .” He started and you turned to him, he was on the edge of his seat, eyes wide as he stared up at you, “I mean is that something you truly want? It’s not just the wine?”

You took a moment to look at him, to really look. You’ve held his stare so many times before, but you’d never seen the look in his eyes that was there now. Like it was taking everything in him not to jump up and do what you’d asked.

Like he — like he wanted it just as much as you did.

You faced him completely, placing yourself between his knees and resting your hands on his shoulders, his hands falling to wrap around the backs of your thighs.

“I just don’t want you to regret asking me,” he muttered, his fingers drawing patterns across the backs of your legs, “I don’t want you regretting me.”

Your hands settled at the sides of his neck, the stubble on his chin scraping against your thumbs as you pushed to angle his head up to you again. You leaned down, your nose brushing against his as your breaths mingled between you.

“Bucky. . . " You started, but he shook his head.

"Wait," It was a gasp, like he was fighting himself, "You need to know that if you let me have you," he looked up at you and you were finally able to see how his pupils had blown, the blue of his eyes almost completely swallowed, "I don't plan on letting you go. Ever."

Your body froze in his hold, his fingers tightening on your legs. "What are you saying?"

His eyes softened on you and a small, nervous smile grew on his lips, "That I've wanted you since we met, but didn't want to scare you off." He tugged on your legs, pulling you into his lap, your knees landing on either side of his hips. His hands moved up to your lower back, his thumbs barely moving under your shirt, but stopping before he went any further. "I've been pining after you for years."

It was like you were snapped back to reality, the raspiness in his voice and his calloused fingers brushing against your skin bringing you back from your stupor. But there were no words to convey how you felt, at least not any you could form at the moment. The only thing your brain and your heart were telling you, was to press your lips against his.

So you did.

His fingers tightened against your back, pressing you into his chest as his lips moved in tandem with yours. It was slow at first, the soft nips to your bottom lip and the way his tongue hesitantly slid across your bottom lip. Your lips parted and the second your tongue met his, a groan rumbled through his chest, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt. Your hips ground down of their own accord and he swallowed the whine you let out as your core was met with the growing bulge under his jeans.

Time seemed to slow, and by the time you pulled back panting, eyes locked on his, you weren't sure how long you'd been there. But by the way your heart was soaring, you knew you didn't want to be anywhere else, ever again.

"We should go inside," he whispered, bringing up one of his hands to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing against your swollen lips. "I don't want the neighbors hearing you."

~~~

You two didn't last long apart once you pried yourself from his lap. The second you both set everything on the counter inside, his hands found their way to your skin again, pushing up the back of your shirt as he pulled you flush with his chest, his feet guiding you to his bedroom.

The edge of his bed met the backs of your knees, and he gently pushed you back, crawling up with you as you nudged your way up to his pillows. His lips attached to your neck, gently biting where it met your shoulder, his breath fanning against your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

"I'll take good care of you," He breathed, pulling back to look at you, "I promise."

You nodded, reaching around to shove his shirt up his back, "I know, I trust you." He smiled at you before pushing your shirt up, over your head and your arms. and dropping his head and dragging his lips across every inch of skin he could reach.

"Arch your back for me?" He asked, only lifting his lips enough to get the words out before they went back to nipping at your skin. You did as he asked, his fingers slipping through the clasp on your bra and undoing it. He helped you out of it, sitting up to pull it up from your arms and throwing it to the side to join your shirt.

You looked up to find his eyes locked on you and you couldn't help the sudden nervousness rise in your chest as he stared at you. His hands caught your arms trying to move to cover your breasts and he shook his head.

"Don't hide," He said, "You're fucking gorgeous."

You giggled, the butterflies in your stomach from his words mixed with the substances in your system making it impossible to fight it off and he smiled down at you.

"There she is," He whispered, "God, I love your laugh."

"Heavy with the compliments tonight aren't you?" You breathily asked, the heat in your skin rising as he removed his shirt, his muscled chest seemingly glowing in the warm hue of the lights.

"I've been waiting to give you some very specific compliments," He leaned over you, "So you better get used to it."

His lips captured yours again as his hands trailed down your stomach, his fingers gently pushing at the waistband of your shorts.

"Can I?" He asked, his fingers stopping.

"Please."

He chuckled at the eagerness in your voice before he pulled away and helped you out of your shorts, pulling your panties with them. He dragged his fingers down your hips and your thighs as he took you in. You could see his chest rising and falling at an uneven pace before he looked up at you.

"You're already wet sweetheart," He rasped, "Can I play with you?"

The fact that you were bare before him and he was still asking for permission sent even more heat to your core and you could feel yourself clench around nothing as your breath hitched in your throat. You nodded sitting up on your elbows to meet his lowering mouth with your own, earning a moan from him as you dragged your teeth along his bottom lip.

His fingers were sure in their movements as they met your folds, brushing up to circle around your clit before sliding back down to circle around your entrance, your hips bucking into his touch. He pulled his mouth away as he slowly slid a finger in, pressing the palm of his hand down into your clit.

"Oh I love this," He said, his head dropping down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, lightly dragging his teeth across it before swirling his tongue around it. He pumped his finger a few times before slowly adding a second, and growling into your skin as your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling at the strands, his fingers curling up, like he was searching for something.

"What?" It came out as a breath, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak any louder as you tried to keep the noises that built in your chest to a minimum. You knew they were normal, but you didn't want to seem as desperate as you really felt.

"I love that no one else has had the pleasure of seeing you like this, that no one has touched you," He said the words into your skin, his lips brushing against your nipple as he spoke and grinning when his fingers brushed against a certain spot.

"Shit - Do that again," the request broke through your lips in a whine, but you were too focused on him to notice. He grinned, curling his fingers into that spot again, pulling another wail from your throat.

"I love that no one's been inside you, that they don't get to have you," He angled his fingers to brush against that spongy spot over and over as he pumped them in and out, "But I do."

He kept his fingers pace agonizingly slow, to not drive you over the edge so quickly but you couldn't help the movement of your hips trying to get more friction. His other hand came up to your chest, gently pushing you down so you were comfortable.

"I'll go slow at first," He started, his fingers slowing even more, if that was possible, "Let you get used to it - to me, before I ruin you," His fingers began to spread, pushing your walls apart as they dragged across them before coming to a halt. "Do you know the traffic light system?" He asked, and at your nod he grinned, "Tell me."

You swallowed around the breath catching in your throat, "Red is stop, green is go, yellow is slow down." His smile grew.

"Perfect, I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with, so you use that if you need to, alright?" When you nodded, he went back to pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt, noticing you practically biting through your lip to keep quiet and he tsked, his free hand moving to pull it from your teeth, "Let me hear you, Peach."

The second you let your lip go, a lewd moan filled the air. You went to bite your lip again, to hide the noises that were waiting to get out, and Bucky shook his head as his thumb found its way to your tongue, softly pressing down to keep your mouth open.

"Don't hide those noises from me," He practically begged, "I need to hear you." It was the tone of desperation that took over his calm confidence that had you nodding, promising not to hide anymore. "Is there anything you want to do?"

"What do you mean?" You breathed, trying to hone your focus on him.

"Well, it's your first time," He started, pushing his fingers as far as he could and smiling at the moan you let out, "Was there anything you wanted to try?"

You thought back to the times you shamefully allowed yourself to fantasize about him. How he'd feel on top of you, in you. How his hips would feel driving into yours, the fullness you'd finally experience. How the weight of him would feel against your tongue.

You felt your skin get hot as you looked up at him, trying not to cover yourself with how self conscious you suddenly felt. But when your eyes met his, all you saw was patience and adoration as he watched you, so you swallowed down your nerves.

"I want to taste you," You muttered and he groaned, his fingers stilling in you, "and ride you."

"Shit," He smiled at you, "You're really not that innocent are you?"

He pulled his fingers free of you before you could answer, and you whined at the now empty feeling in between your legs, a whine that dragged on longer as you watched him lift his fingers to his mouth. His eyes rolled back and he moaned as he tasted you.

"Fuck," he groaned, "I knew you'd taste good."

He pulled his body up from yours, ridding himself of the last of his clothes, and you couldn't help but look down, eyeing the length of his cock as it stood at attention. Unable to stop yourself from reaching out, your fingers brushed against the underside and the shiver that clearly ran up Bucky's spine gave you a boost of confidence.

You crawled across the bed to where he stood at the end, fighting the nerves that were tingling through every part of you as you slid to the floor in front of him. The carpet dug into your knees as you kneeled, looking up at him through your lashes. His hand came down to trace your cheek before cupping it.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," He said and you smiled.

"I know, I want to." You eyed him before moving your hand to grip him at the base, holding him still while you dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around the head, the taste of his skin and the precum leaking from the tip flooding your tongue.

"Oh, fuck," He gasped and his hips stuttered, pushing himself past your lips just a bit before he caught himself and pulled back. "Shit - sorry."

Instead of pulling your mouth off of him, you looked up at him and hummed before taking him further, watching his eyes flutter closed and roll back as your tongue slid along his length. His fingers twitched at his sides like they were reaching for you but he was fighting himself. You reached up with your free hand and pulled his grasping fingers towards the top of your head where they hesitantly laced into your hair.

He breathed a heavy sigh as he gently tugged on your hair, the whine you let out around him causing his hips to jolt again.

"Fuck, Peach," He rasped, his voice hoarse as he looked down at you. The sound of his voice and the way he looked at you alone was enough to have you clenching around nothing, but what he said next was what got to your head, sending you into a type of haze you'd never experienced before. "Unless you want me to fuck your pretty face, you gotta stop doing that."

Your free hand reached around his thigh, gripping it as you hummed again, the vibrations clearly running through every one of Bucky's nerves as he shuddered.

"Is that what you want?" He asked, a cocky grin growing on his lips as he looked down at you, your head bobbing, "You want me to fuck your pretty mouth before I fuck that pretty pussy?"

A high pitched whine rumbled in your throat and his hips bucked forward, his hand in your hair pulling your head forward. He was gentle with it, only pushing himself so far back in your mouth, doing his best not to make you gag, all the while a string of curses and compliments showered you as your eyes watered and a mix of your spit and his precum had started to slide down your chin.

He pulled your head back, pulling himself from your mouth, the stiffness in your jaw a welcome sensation when accompanied by the heavy look in his eyes. He took your hand in his, helping you move back to the bed and settling in between your legs as he kissed his way down the side of your neck, his hand wrapping around the other side. His teeth grazed your skin, sending chills through your spine as you reached around to grip at his back.

Pulling his head from your neck, his voice just above a whisper as he asked, "Are you ready?" You nodded, but he shook his head, "I need to hear you say it, baby, you gotta tell me." A bloom of warmth spread through your chest at the care exuding from the furrow in his brows.

You wrapped your hands around the sides of his head, your thumbs brushing along the lines of his jaw, "Fuck me, Bucky," You whispered, "please." He nodded before capturing your mouth with his once before sitting up a bit and reaching over to his nightstand, his hand coming back with a condom and a small bottle of what you assumed was lube.

Once he had the condom on, he popped open the cap of the lube, pouring some in his hand and spreading it over himself, then getting a bit more and looking at you. "It's a little cold, but it's gonna help, I promise."

"Okay," You nodded and braced yourself for the chill that came when his fingers rubbed the lube through your folds, your skin sensitive to his calloused skin.

"Spread your legs baby," he watched your legs open for him, "that's it. . . wider." Your legs spread as far as you could, "Such a good girl all spread out for me." He smiled before lining the head of his cock up with your dripping entrance, slowly pushing in with a hiss.

The stretch burned and your hands shot to cling to his arms, your nails leaving crescent shaped indents in his skin. His eyes locked with yours, "Breathe baby, breathe," He strained, "I'm right here." You let loose a tight breath through your nose as you held his gaze. He kept pushing in, taking his time until he was all the way in, a strange type of fullness taking over you - an addicting kind.

He dragged his fingers across your skin, kneading the muscles in your hips, legs, and arms as he waited for you to adjust, talking you through it with a whole array of compliments. When the burn from the stretch turned into a need for him to move, you shifted your hips and loosed a moan when the head of his cock brushed against that same spot his fingers had expertly found earlier.

A breathy chuckle fanned your skin as he smiled down at you, "Ready for me to move?" At your quiet confirmation, he began slowly rocking his hips into yours, the drag of his cock against your walls addicting - but you needed more.

"M-more. . ." you panted and he smirked.

"More what?" He asked, not stopping the slow drag movements of his hips as if he knew it was driving you mad, which he probably did if you were being honest.

You swallowed your nerves, "Faster," he brushed that spot again, "fuck - harder."

He nodded, moving his hands to the back of each of your knees, holding your legs open, "Can I have my way with you? You can ride me later?" You forgot about that, about saying you wanted to ride him. You did, you wanted him under you writhing for you like you were for him now, but you weren't sure you could handle taking over right now so you nodded. You just wanted him to make you feel good and to fucking move already.

"Yes," You whined, trying to move your hips against his again, but with how he was holding your legs, you couldn't move much. "Just move." You didn't care how desperate you sounded now, you were going to go insane if he didn't do something other than slowly drag himself in and out, stopping just before hitting that perfect spot.

"Say please." You scowled at him. Sometimes you forgot how cocky he could get, though this was the first time his cockiness made you even more needy for him.

"Fuck," You muttered, the pressure growing low in your belly, "please Bucky."

"I got you," He pushed you knees closer to your chest as he leaned over you, thrusting into the base, hitting that spot that made you see stars before pulling out just as quick and doing it again.

It felt like the air had been sucked out of your chest as you held his gaze, his hips unrelenting in his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping filling your ears in between the moans that fell from both of you.

"God," He panted, "You feel so good around me, I always knew you would." He dropped one of your legs, reaching up to palm your breast and taking the pebbled nipple in between his fingers, "Fuckin' made for me, weren't you?"

A loud moan tore its way through your throat as you reached for him, your hand finding his neck, nails raking down to the middle of his chest, his hips driving home even harder. You could feel that somewhat familiar crest quickly approaching, knowing the feeling from your nights alone where all you had were your fingers. But you didn't want this to end. You wanted to stay here, his cock filling you up and hitting that one spot over and over.

Something in your face, or maybe it was the way your breathing became more controlled, told Bucky that you were trying to fight it off as long as you could and he smirked before slowing down just enough to let your knees go and tell you, "Wrap your legs around my waist."

You quickly followed his instruction as he leaned over you, grabbing the headboard with one hand and circling your clit with the thumb of his other. You couldn't hold back the almost scream that erupted from your chest at the sensation and he smiled.

"Don't fight it, baby," He coaxed, "Just let it happen." He quickened the pace of both his hips and his thumb, trying to push you over that edge. "C'mon, Peach," he was practically begging now, "Let me have it."

The thread holding you back was fraying quickly, ready to snap and he knew it.

Your breath hitched and he smirked, still keeping his pace as he muttered, "Give it to me."

The thread snapped. Pleasure crashed into you, a roaring in your ears as your body tightened under his, your walls clenching around him as he continued his determined thrusts. Your hands grasped at his back, your nails raking down his skin. Your legs locked around him.

You were sure you screamed.

"That's it, baby," He panted into your ear, his hips becoming sporadic, "Keep coming - fuck - keep gripping me like that." You weren't sure how exactly to do what he was asking, but in your daze, you did your best, tightening your muscles as much as you could.

He gasped, gripping your hip tight enough to bruise you were sure. His hips stilled and his head buried into your neck as he shouted.

He gently rested his weight on you, pushing you into the mattress and trailing small kisses along your neck and shoulder where his head still rested. He waited until you'd caught your breath and your eyes were clear before speaking again.

"Are. . . are you alright?" He asked, worry replacing the pleasure that had been on his face just moments ago.

You gave him a dizzy smile, nodding, "I'm perfect."

A large smile grew on his face as he chuckled, his hand raising to cup your chin, pulling himself forward to gently press his lips to yours. "Good," he muttered against your lips, "You make such a cute face when you cum, did you know that?"

You felt your skin heat as you tried to shove his now laughing face away from you. "Shut up!"

"What?!" He roared, "It's true!" He grabbed your hands in his, pinning them above you. He was still smiling as he looked down at you, his pupils still blown wide, "I wanna see you make it again."

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tarjapearce · 11 days

Text

Pure Instinct

Symbiote! Miguel O'Hara x Spiderwoman! Reader

Art by Lenin Francis Yu

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Preying behaviors, bickering, ambiguous relationships, breeding kink, objectification, creampies, Monster fucking, overstimulation, prey/hunter dynamics, mentions of period. Canon places, Not proofread.

Summary: A little guest from another dimension has a penchant for ovulation.

Another one for the Miguelverse

Special thanks to this nonny for the wonderful idea ❤️❤️

If you had to hear another word about world domination or how mistaken your views as a hero from another anomaly were, you'd surely rip your hair out.

Miguel delivered the last kick on Doc Oc's variant while you handled the trap.

"God, I swear if he keeps talking about the fucking sun on his hands-"

"Can you shut up and help?!" Miguel grunted as one of the villain's tentacles squeezed his skull, with the intention of leaving his head a bloody pulp, while slamming him against a wall.

"On it! " With a huff you shot your webs and kicked Doc Oc's spine, earning a pained growl from the man, but it was enough distraction for Miguel to pull his talons out and slice through metal and wire in a vicious outburst, destroying the tentacles in several rubble pieces.

With a kick and punch combo, Dr. Octavius was stunted. Miguel's webs tied the remaining automated limbs.

"Lyla, we've got him. Prepare the cell."

The little quiet gave you a bit of peace, bit it was quickly interrupted by the dull cramps on your lower belly.

You had to support on a nearby wall and exhale as another stab was delivered to your insides. If there was something worse than having your period, was being a spiderwoman and having your period.

Heightened senses made everything to be felt tenfold. Miguel's mask disappeared and he threw a brief glance your way before securing the area and pick up the anomaly.

"You alright?"

"Yeah just... Wished my uterus wouldn't have a penchant for committing harakiri every fucking month."

His brow quirked and he pressed some buttons to open the portal back to HQ. Dr. Octavius chuckled.

"You'd need a tantō for that."

"What do you think it feels like, dumbass?"

His lid twitched at your brazen disrespect, but ignored it. The least he wanted was to keep wasting time and prolonging the anomaly's staying in this dimension too long.

But the little conversation was more than enough to create a distraction. Doc Oc pounced on Miguel with his bare hands, securing his steely grip on his watch before pushing him through the portal.

"Shit!" Despite the pain you didn't hesitate to jump after them. You shot a web to gain impulse and kick the villain's head before his fist collided with Miguel's face, but this Octavius seemed prone to a greater resistance.

He punched back on your stomach, blowing all air out of your lungs through a choked wheeze.

"Play nice!" Miguel growled before connecting a powerful uppercut underneath Otto's jaw as the latter used the marred machine as a weapon, creating a set of cuts on Miguel's arm.

The mass of fighting limbs and bodies went through different universes, thanks to the code error to finally land in a foreign looking land.

You fell on the floor with a hard thud, unable to stand due the waves of pain that subdued you remorselessly.

Miguel howevee had grown tired and punched Otto on the side of his face, repeatedly until the villain remained unconscious on the floor.

Miguel's attention quickly diverted to his watch that sputtered in sparks and electric jolts.

"Ay por Dios... Lo que faltaba." His hand immediately rubbed his face, annoyed.

You on the other hand had barely mustered some energies to stand up.

"Fuck..." you whimpered and held your lower belly, as a crawl rolled down your spine upon glaring mistrustful at the alien-like features of the dimension. "Where are we?"

"Earth 616, known as Klyntar." Lyla quipped from your watch before glitching next to Miguel.

The foliage was nothing alike, not even the local fawn. All seemed to be doused in a black goo, that if you looked closer you could swear it moved on its own.

The flower's leafs were either exactly that or white sturdy spines that resembled teeths. As if the plant had a set of elongated teeth that protruded on each petal.

Long and sturdy spines that crawled in twisted spirals in whatever surface they touched. The sky was like glancing at a sunset. But unlike it's pretty hues of pastels, the fiery red and orange and yellows took over. Like if witnessing the very sun burning before you, yet it was cold. Eerily cold.

"Yeah, no. Can we... can we go home? Please? Don't wanna remain another second in one of Stephen King's wetdreams."

"I'm on it, signal over here is quite hard to get." Lyla glitched in several spots, trying to get a proper reception for her data

Miguel secured Otto entirely this time, and as he popped some joints back, you couldn't help but shoot at the sentient goo that was already crawling up his ankle and hand. His face contorted into a scowl before seeing the black puddle scurrying away from him, crawling within the dense alien foliage.

His face scrunched in disgust to then haul Octavius on his shoulder.

"What the hell was that?!"

"A symbiote. Amorphous creatures, I'm still trying to get a full on scan on what they are made of." Lyla's excitement would've been contagious if it wasn't for the icky feeling the whole place gave in it's already bizarre layout.

"Parasites, that's what they are."

Miguel mumbled gruffly as he crossed the portal, you followed. Otto was put in a cell. And you went to your dimension for a much needed break.

The boss himself went back to his base, ready to get lost in the many upcoming reports his way, ignoring the sudden itch that seeped through his body.

----

Dread crept in your head the closer you got to Miguel's office. The past weeks have been nothing but chaos in the Spider Society.

Anomalies doubling their presence, canon events bein6 almost disrupted, the cafeteria food lowering their quality and Miguel...

Oh no.

The main reason you were nauseous with anxiety as you entered in the threshold of his lab.

Not only your favorite leader and almost lover had been insufferable, but snappier, less tolerating towards Bullshit and mistakes, to the point of believing himself allergic to them. Cause they got him in such a mood the rest rather go to Jessica to report. Even to Peter.

And things were awful if people started to come to Peter for giving reports.

Sometimes you could hear him grumbling spanish nonsense to none but himself. With a deep sigh and a silent prayer to whoever above for you to not be killed in the go, you surpassed the doorframe.

As soon as you did the subtle tinge in your spider senses, thrummed through your body. A shaky breath was trapped on the state of his lab. Nothing but a mix of pitch black darkness and the red, ominous glow from the screens, barely illuminating his way, and outlining his heaving figure.

"Miguel?"

Your voice taunted and beady crimson eyes immediately locked on you.

"Here's the reports from last week. They're already done-"

Your throat gulped involuntarily upon picking up the ragged pants and heaves exhaling from his trembling mouth.

"Leave." he grunted and you frowned. He wasn't only a pain in the ass but a walking contradiction. How he wanted things done asap if he didn't even bother to take a look?

You were about to protest but a pained and shaky whimper from him, alerted you.

"You want me to leave when you're probably injur-"

"Fucking Leave!"

He roared, more concerned of what might happen if you didn't do exactly as you were being told.

"Mig..." Your eyes widened as he wheezed on the floor, the same black goo you saw back at Klyntar, was engulfing your sometimes lover at an alarming rate, that had Miguel grunting and growling as the amorphous creature fought to swallow him whole. But as you stepped closer he hissed your way, stopping you.

"I-I can smell you." He seethed through clenched teeth, struggling to remain in control of his words alone. But the statement made your brows furrow in disbelief. Hands rose in defense as you approached a step closer, to try and get the sentient slime out of him.

"The hell? I took a shower today you ass!." You mumbled while getting Lyla to fetch the Spider doc to the lab, trying to keep him grounded. Your spider senses tingled louder and harder the more you saw him fight against the thing.

"Not that kind of smell, you foolish woman."

But the sudden change of tone made you shiver. It wasn't him speaking, but something more eldritch and dern that finally managed to swallow him whole and overlapped it's voice with his.

The squishing noise ended in a lurid gurgle as a massive and dark figure stood before you. Breathing as if learning the proper way to inhale it for the first time. Drunk in the very air you exhaled, oozing with pheromones.

"M-Miguel?"

Miguel was big, but not this behemoth of a creature, crawling in it's own skin made out of abyss and darkness, in which chest remained your boss' spider emblem, fiery and bright red, like if fire itself emanated from within.

"I can smell you, little spider"

It took a moment for you to understand the implications of such words. You knew in this specific part of your cycle pheromones turned a bit more pungent. A reason why you remained in your dimension.

Even though colorless, the creature's eyes narrowed in a leering and borderline predatory glare towards you.

For every step forward he did, you took two back

"I gotta... Uh-" Your politeness melted into a pool as soon as the dangerous set of sharp teeth stretched over his lips, revealing a twisted wolfish grin that would put any creature to shame.

Your senses reached the peak of their alarmed state with a single thought.

Run.

Your feet didn't need to be told twice as they took you away from the creature's presence. An underworld roar echoed within Miguel's station.

You didn't know if it was a good or a bad idea. But it mattered little when the creature, the symbiote, chased after you. The earth trembled and echoed with every powerful lunge he gave.

You jumped through a window, and swung through the buildings and cars, throwing an occasional load of webs to slow him down that proved a nuisance if anything.

"Run, little spider, RUN!"

The ominous laugh echoed through the night. He jumped through structures, following the delicious scent you left behind.

If Miguel could recall, he had been studying symbiotes ever since the web of life showed him the many bad turns a Spider could take. He knew they were nasty creatures when finding a proper host.

Vicious and harmful parasites that did nothing but corrupt, if the host's willpower was weak. What Miguel couldn't decide yet was if he was being corrupted for giving in into his need to mate, or if the parasite had made him bigger, faster and more powerful because he knew he needed to mate, accepting his current emotions and feeding the creature's crave with them.

And your pheromones and stress only added another delicious smell to the list. The phenethylamine running rampant in your brain made his heightened senses to tingle in wicked delight.

His smile only grew wider.

With a powerful lurch, he jumped through buildings to finally catch you mid air before you shot your web again. His whole hand wrapped around you while he held you tightly over the building's ledge.

Bit by bit the row of sharp teeth appeared within his mask, to unleash his serpent like and slimy tongue out that, didn't waste a second longer and took a taste of your skin by licking your cheek.

"Let Miguel go!"

Voice firm, although your hands quivered while trying to pry yourself out of his steely grasp.

"Let him go?" Miguel laughed, but you knew this wasn't your Miguel.

Was he?

He wasn't harming you, if anything he was just licking your neck with that abnormally large tongue of his

"He's the one in control, spiderling."

The goo spreaded around you, like tiny and sentient webs that grope and tangled around your inner thighs, up your abdomen, breast and arms, swallowing your body, like it did with Miguel.

The ones around your arms secured their grip around your wrist, pulling and locking the limbs immediately behind your back.

Your little cries only ebbed him to inch closer to your face, the web extensions grope tighter, suffocating your suit.

Miguel's sharp talon slid softly on the fabric, giving the creature the perfect chance to rip the remaining linens to shreds off.

A yelp was drowned as his long tongue slid in within your mouth. Coiling and twisting on yours, subjugating the wet muscle effortlessly.

Your eyes clamped shut upon feeling the same sensation in your nipples.

The symbiote's biomass had split and smaller versions of his mouth appeared to immediately latch on each of your nipples.

With half lidded eyes and a swirling mind, your body squirmed at the delicious sensations running rampant through each cell that composed your form.

You were allowed to breath as the symbiote pulled his tongue out. Within seconds you were flipped upside down, head dipping into the abyss of buildings and landscapes underneath.

For a second you thought you'd fall down, but the steely grip in your body was foolproof. Monstrous hands spreaded your supple thighs open, your skin crawled with the deep, demonic growl grumbling in his chest upon taking a deep inhale of your cunt.

You could see him relish in it, as his salivation increased. Tongue teased by taking a deliberate slow lick on your folds.

"Y-You'll let me f-Nnghh!-"

Your teeth clenched in an acute whimper but eventually a shaky and loud gasp came out of your throat as Miguel or rather the symbiote plunged his tongue inside your heat with ease. Slimy texture tasted and twisted within.

His tongue curled and slurped your insides vehemently, tearing lovely and desperate cries from your pretty mouth. Composure cracked with each second as the tiny mouths sucked and kissed your nipples like no tomorrow. As if coaxing the dormant milk out of them was their main and only mission.

The symbiote lapped and gulped down the juices that soaked his tongue. You mewled and moaned, completely lost in the drowning debauchery the creature provided. His tongue felt heavenly as it slithered and fucked your insides with such viciousness you could feel your tightness trembling and succumbing to his corruption game.

The neglect in your body was catching up to his ministrations. It bent and twisted like putty into his mutated hands. A streak of drool oozed from the corner of your mouth as you gifted his ears with your sweet pathetic little cries.

Clit throbbed the more he pressed and curled his tongue against your cervix, teasing it nonstop.

You shouldn't enjoy it. You couldn't be enjoying it, but here you were, secretly begging him to keep going, to quench that urge flooding your rationality even if it ruined you.

Miguel ate like no other, that was much true, but this dark mass of living alien goo had your walls spasming and milking around him, and your brain synapses crazy with raw delight.

And when he had enough of your sweet cunt, the biomass etched you to his chest. To then jump out the ledge and land into a darkened area from another building.

His body spat you on the floor, but quickly propped you on your feet. His darkened giggles crawled underneath your skin, to then gasp as his hand crushed your frame against the thick glass. Hot pants echoed in a foggy cloud on the sheer surface, chest flattened against the sturdy crystal while your arms remained locked behind you. His fingers immediately pulled back your hair, arching your flexible spine to look up at him.

"Such a needy little spider"

His tongue licked your lips, the mouths latched once more in your nipples, earning him nothing but a exquisite sob

"So eager to be ruined."

Deep within your alarms flared upon feeling something hard and twitching behind you, at first you thought of it nothing but another extention of his mutated form until it positioned right in your drenched hole.

A pant turned into a wheeze as his broad tip pushed in, easing inch by inch.

Your eyes rolled back at the obscene size of his invading cock, stretching and molding your walls to his girth.

A choked gurgle came out of your gaping pit, panting for a much needed gulp of air. Your toes barely touched the ground as he bottomed deep, bulging and pulsing proudly inside your womb.

Your brain was turned into nothing but a puddle, swirling inside your head with every breath the creature behind you exhaled, all while he embedded and trapped you against the wall with his monstrous frame and cock.

The Symbiote's hand held your hips firmly, guiding you up and down with powerful yet paused strokes on himself, like a life sized fleshlight. Making sure your walls learned and memorized every curve and tangent of his twitching cock while receiving him whole with a wet squelch.

"S'big-" you wheezed with half lidded eyes, struggling to remain aware and sane. But how could you achieve such feat when air was lacking in your lungs and your brain tingled with the underlying need to procreate. You were in the peak of your fertile days.

And him was more than willing to give you exactly what you needed. Symbiote, Miguel, it didn't matter anymore who plowed you. You truly couldn't care less.

"Enough games." the creature seethed and with a tighter grip on your hair, he smacked your hips in a powerful thrust, knocking out all remaining air in your burning lungs. Then another and another and-

Oh god

You came. And came hard, clenching ever tight around him in violent and ruthless spasms. Shaky mewls and pleas turned into slurred screams but that didn't stop him. Your toes curled in.

His smile twisted upwards, before shoving it's tongue back in your throat as his hips begun ramming in a merciless tempo. Obliterating any remnants of common sense in your frying and overriding brain.

Good was too weak to actually describe the feeling. Something too raw, too vicious, viscerally inexpressible, like the unceasing whomps of his hips. Like, him.

Your mouth was unable to properly vocalize the searing heat the Symbiote's lust stirred within. Chipping away your need to stop him and simply take his swollen and pulsating cock the many times he pressed in.

Cause in truth, what else could you do but take it? To take it fast and remorselessly deep, with no signs of him stopping. Not when his snarls rumbled behind and his hot breath fanned over your face and neck. The mouths on your breast removed themselves with a pop, leaving your nipples puffed and swollen

Tears pooled in the inner corner of your lids, and soon slid down on each side of your cheek. Your voice was reduced to nothing but meek grunts and hushed breaths, to finally dissolve into a stuttering groan as your eyes widened at the hefty load of his seed being shot deep. Hot and spurting directly in your womb.

Your eyes rolled back as he pressed imposibly deep, overfilling you. His frame trembled upon sensing your womb trapping him, drinking and swallowing greedily every last of his drops, choking him exquisitely. A satisfied and animal-like growl rumbled through his chest.

But it wasn't enough.

His tongue pulled out of your throat, letting you have some air as a reward for withstanding him.

Your arms were numb, like your mind, legs too lightweight to support your whole frame. Too fucked out and overstimulated to articulate a proper word as you slumped against the glass wall that fogged in every weak breath exhaled.

Miguel's eyes raked over your body and smirked proudly. The dark and living webs fetched your quivering figure.

His eyes remained on your leaking hole and pushed all the escaping cum back inside with his slimy tongue.

"It needs to be inside" He grunted and pressed your head against the floor, while his webs spreaded your hips again.

Ass up high, he buried deep once again, earning a sweet and needy scream and some of his cum to spurt out in the floor in a lecherous splatter, pooling underneath your poor bouncing hips.

The rough and rhythmic slap slap slap deafened your pleas and begs. Your breast bounced at the wicked beat of his pistoning hips. Throat scrapped raw, breathless. Eyes glossy, too gone to a dark place where he was the undisputed sovereign.

"You spiderlings are so fragile" The symbiote smirked while his hand held your head in place.

"Miguel-"

His name was repeated over and over, like if you were learning it for the first time. Clit throbbed with such intensity it had your head shaking. Fighting to keep your sanity intact as his heavy balls slapped whatever skin they could reach.

"Can't-" you grunted between clenched teeth, eyes danced erratically, like your blown breaths. Your knuckles and toes turned white at the sheer pressure you held them in.

"You can't what?" The overlapping mirthful voices sent another painful throb in your punished pussy, "Is it too much for you?"

The brief and sadistic laugh echoed through the skies.

"How weak."

With a snarl and a deep plow, he sheathed, the webs lifted you and curled you on your own to see how his enormous cock buried inside and pulsated.

Thick and throbbing veins adorned his base, every contraction meant more hot spurts of his seed, flooding your already stuffed womb.

There was no sound from you this time. Your brain had shut off and you laid limp, on the floor, quivering and twitching at the minimum graze of air. The webs around your wrist were loosened, freeing your tingling arms.

The little puddle of cum kept growing underneath the more your muscles spasmed and contracted.

"Ten"

Your breath hitched, while trying to get up.

"Nine."

He sung and you whimpered, crawling away from him.

"Eight"

Your legs didn't move but rather quiver. It was amusing for him to see you gasp while trying to stand.

"Seven"

"W-Wait" You mumbled, feeling the remnants of pleasure toying with your mind.

Part of you knew that if you stayed, he'd destroy you completely, but if you go, you'd gain a bit more of time to let your body heal enough to withstand another round.

"Six."

You tried shooting a web. But nothing came out.

"C'mon!"

"Five"

A chill ran down your spine as you slapped your wrist, finally mustering some strength to stand up with wobbly legs. Your nakedness didn't matter, not when a symbiote had taken over your boss, corrupting him to the point of him playing the mouse and cat through the city.

"Four" He tittered with malice.

And finally you managed to shoot some. Naked or not you supported on the wall to catch some air before shooting again and swinging.

"Three"

He watched you go after covering your bits to spare you some shame in case someone saw you. But quickly frowned when disappearing through a portal.

The symbiote however left Miguel's body to latch on his back. His eyes held a different gleam, teeth sharper.

Soon, his seed would work, but he had to make sure your womb harbored enough of him so his future seedling grew.

"Lyla, where is she?"

"Back in her dimension-"

He cut her off before she kept talking. The alien goo swallowed him whole again, regaining his gigantic frame.

"One."

The hunt was on.

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #symbiote suit #Symbiote! Miguel #monster fucker #Miguelverse #Spotify

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bunicate · 7 months

Note

i neeeeedddd more wrio <///3 i don’t wanna wait so so long for him to come out <///3 and i wanna read more filthy filthy smuts and suuuper long angsty smutty fics :((( i need him in a way that would get me lobotomized in the 1900’s </3

dnt u hate how genshin is just stringing us along and taking 4ever to give us more wrio stuff ! ! I want him in a very gross way nd I dunno if this little fic is at all filthy, but i wrote smthn while I was having my breakfast earlier ^_^ I also probably misspelled his name so many times bc my grammar check wasn’t working nd i got lazy ! but just know nonnie, ur icky thoughts are welcomed here !

pairing ꒱ྀི wriothesley x fem reader — warnings ꒱ he calls you little girl once ! ! + slight exhibitionism + finger sucking + size kink + blowjob mention / wc ꒱ 1.3k / 18+

you’d like to say that you were good at being discreet. it’s not that you’re intentionally trying to be, but when faced with several trials and tribulations, you believed the gods themselves were testing you.

after all this time, you thought you were inured to wriothesley’s effortless charm. it bothers you that he doesn’t even try— that your boyfriend with broad shoulders, a big chest, and big hands could stand there, and you were already thinking of all the sloppy, messy ways you could end your night.

you spend far too much time staring at veiny thick fingers that dwarf your tinier ones. especially when he holds your pink phone, hello kitty, and heart-shaped charms and all, and his big thumbs end up pressing a button he never meant to. how such a simple and mindless mistake makes you wonder about putting his big fingers somewhere else.

It was a newfound desperation you didn’t know you had in you and it just didn’t stop there. it’s the casual dominance in his behavior that makes butterflies erupt, fluttering their delicate wings in your belly.

when the brown sugar you needed to make a fresh batch of cookies rested on the tippiest top of the shelf you were irked to say the least.

it sat there mocking you because it knows you can’t reach it, and it’s none other than wrio himself who barely extends his hand above his head that brings it down with ease.

and then you see it.

it’s only a slither of skin, only a thick patch of untamed hair leading to his groin.

that’s all it is and that’s all you saw and yet you feel . . . bothered

“i didn’t need your help,” you mutter while pouring the contents into a pink porcelain bowl, careful not to make a mess.

you got snappy because of all things, it’s his height and taut stomach that make you flustered. you cut your eyes and upturn your nose busying yourself with the mixing and measuring, but wriothesley is no fool. your attempt to appear unfazed — not aroused was meaningless. he didn’t bother to question the veracity of you words when the soft cotton flush of embarrassment coats your cheeks like a paintbrush and he was the painter.

he excites you.

you know it and he knows it.

“sure you don’t.”

he’s smug and you don’t like it. you hate it, even. why is he always quick and sharp-tongued, and so astute?

it was one of your earlier dates together. things were still new and you wanted to make a bit more effort and maybe you went slightly overboard. you cursed yourself for wearing heels that day. they were a tad bit too high— but they were pink, and glittery, and a butterfly charm dangled by the strap of your ankle.

you couldn’t not wear them, your outfit depended on them. they just had the unfortunate luck of succumbing to the little pebble that laid in the middle of the sidewalk.

before you could even register your heart-dropping, warm, big, bulging arms enclose your waist, keeping you from colliding with the ground. when you instinctively reach out to grip them you felt the muscle beneath your fingers. you were sure your silk panties were ruined .

and to your dismay, the twitch of your legs trying to smother that burning heat between your thighs didn’t go unnoticed.

so observant wriothesley is, and you hate how easily he could read you, but the desire was mutual.

he constantly had to fight every signal in his body that yearned for you — that yearned to separate those plump thighs and perfectly ruin, and stretch that seeping little hole with his fingers. the thought plagues his mind the entire time.

you both go out for another outing and it was just meant to be an innocent dinner, but god — would you stop looking at him like that?

just stop pouting, stop doing that little furrow with your eyebrows, and stop putting on that sparkly lipgloss.

it’s moments like this where he’s thankful for his status. he’s quiet, and big enough to deter people from peering over his shoulder. a booth far away enough in a corner, makes it easier for the duke to get away with acting out in public— stuffing your mouth with his fingers.

even when sitting he towers over you. the dip of your clavicle kisses by the ends of your hair. so put together even in the process of ruin.

two of his wriothesley’s daft and ring-clad fingers stroke your tongue, spit coating the appendages. he could’ve busied them separating your puffy lower lips, but why would he when he can make you gag instead?

soft moans escape in the form of gurgled cries, you suck his fingers like a lollipop that was just too big for your tiny mouth. he’s rubs the insides of the orifice as if it were your pussy, with expert strokes that send your eyes reeling backward.

you pucker around them, lips tight, and you just croon like a good puppy.

“you like it when I stretch your little mouth? yeah, you do.” as if the arch in your back and the clench of your legs weren’t enough it would be your eyes blinking up at him submissively.

“you can open up a little wider— just like that, baby.”

and he’s knuckle deep by now and maybe he should stop, and not encourage you to be so obscene but he wasn’t thinking straight. it’s been a long enough week, [its tuesday ] but wriothesley works hard and some trouble once in a while can’t be that bad. neuvillette shouldn’t mind. he’s sure if he could see you now he’d be at your mercy. drooling around his rings, tits pushed up and makeup smeared— could anyone actually resist you?

“that’s my good girl, perfect little throat.” and he can’t wait to fuck it. If your mouth looked so delicate stretched around his burly fingers, what would it look like around his much bigger cock. that excites him — to think about the tip of his length poking the side of your cheek and thickening in the expanse of your throat. to be gifted with your drunken expression because he’s just too big and your brain can’t compute.

“you can pretend it doesn’t bother you, but I know you like when it when I get rough with little girls like you,” he drawls, in a deep and husky tone, low enough to fall on your ears alone.

there’s a fire that it ignites within and he controls the flame. you want to tell him no, to defy him, but it would be so unconvincing. you’re nearly falling apart, bursting at the seams with wanton hunger and thirst and it’s written all over your face.

it gives wriothesley a rush the more he fixates on your mouth. he talks big, knowing you're teetering on the edge of a mind break. he whispers how filthy you are for letting him fuck your mouth with his fingers. he teases you breathlessly that spit looks better on your lips then the lipgloss and that you can’t seem to stop re-applying.

things were fairly new, only soft gropes, intense kisses, and humping between leather and lacy frills were exchanged . this was the most erotic he’s seen you as of yet and its the closest you both have ever been. it made him eager for so much more.

“ you like how big I am thats why you’re letting me stuff your mouth."

and he dreams bout filling it some more— to the brink with his milky white, breeding your throat like it was your cunt until rivulets spill from the sides. Its right then and there that he wishes for no one else to be in the room so he can finally have you . he’s broken you down, and all you can do is listen.

"when i take you home, you'll be a sweet girl for me, right? no back talk and no more attitude ?”

you nod and even with a mouthful, you obediently open to speak.

“y-yes sir.”

such dangerous words.

#૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x reader smut #genshin impact smut #wriothesley x you #wriothesley smut

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arlerts-angel · 7 days

Note

Could you write a Ran Haitani x reader smut, but use this prompt somewhere.

“But you like being corrupted, don't you, sweet girl?”

-xx

❛❛𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬'𝑺 𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑺 𝑩𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵.ᐟ❞

being a bonten executive's assistant comes with many perks. . . including (but not limited to) flexible hours, good pay, publicity (apparently), and getting to screw your boss ?!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ a/n: i've never written ran before i'm a little nervous!!! nonnie i hope you enjoy!!! i loved and had a lot of fun writing this 🥰🫶 wc: 866

since getting hired as an assistant to bonten executive ran haitani, the two of you have been photographed together and plastered across billboards and magazines, making headlines across japan.

❛❛𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂. 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋❞

❛❛𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 (𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄/𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄/𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄/𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃)❞

"heh," he scoffs, "these dumbasses think i'm screwing my assistant!"

he tosses the magazines onto his desk and takes a sip of an old fashioned. he presses a button, paging you to his office.

you make your way promptly to his office and ask, "what can i do for you, mr. haitani?" you smile, awaiting his response.

"have you seen the shit on the news lately?"

you shake your head, puzzled by his question. "no, sir. i can't say i have... do you need me to contact some—"

he leans back in his seat, reads the headlines aloud, then takes another sip of his drink, and looks up at you, smirking.

"so... what do you think, little miss bonten?" he asks, enunciating consonants sharp enough to cut. the look he gives you makes your thighs clench.

"the media will twist anything for personal gain, sir–" you say softly, clearing your throat in an attempt to keep your composure.

he chuckles. "that's all? d'aw, too bad... had you said something else, i might have entertained them..."

you swallow the lump in your throat, setting off the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. "i'll tell the bartender to use a lighter hand–"

"you think i'm drunk right now?" he laughs, "not a chance, doll. you're a smart girl, sweet too... i know you are...." he rises from his desk and approaches you, gently lifts your jaw to meet his gaze.

you're certain he can feel your heart leap into your throat and your skin burning with excitement. his hand gently caresses your face. "mr. haitani–"

"don't be so formal. ran is fine." he laughs softly.

"i don't think this is right mr., ahem, ran."

"well, if this is wrong then i don't wanna be right." he smirks. "i know you want it too. you're not as innocent as you let on... you like being corrupted, don't you sweet girl?"

he hears your breath hitch and knows he's got you right where he wants you. he looks into your eyes and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. "show me how pretty you look with your mouth on my cock." he says hushedly.

you kneel in front of your boss, watching him hurriedly unbuckle his belt and reveal his cock to you. you take his length into your hand, stroking gently as you lower your head. he groans as you take his tip between your lips, teasing his cockhead with your tongue.

"you trying to kill me?" he quips. you smirk and take his cock further into your mouth and suck, bobbing your head down inch by inch until you can't fit any more comfortably. his eyes roll back and he groans, placing his hand gently on your head. "fuck," he hisses, "who knew little miss bonten was a pretty little cocksucker?" he smirks.

you moan and quicken your pace, jerking his cock a little harder now. you swirl your tongue on his tip and indulge in the taste of his precum. he grunts and groans, hips stuttering as he begins to teeter on the edge of his orgasm. "not gonna cum yet. not 'til you're bent over this desk."

he helps you off your knees then pushes your lower back down, tits spilling out of your top. he pushes your panties to the side and rubs a finger up and down your glistening sex, gently circling your clit. "this wet for me? fuck... need you to stay like this... always ready to take me."

the two of you moan collectively as he slides his cock into your cunt. he grips tightly onto your waist as he pushes deeper inside. "fuck baby, you were made for me..." he grins and thrusts his hips steadily, rubbing your clit in synch.

your eyes flutter as his tip presses sweetly against your g-spot. the stimulation on your clit sends your head into the clouds. "oh god– fuck! ran!" you mewl.

"you're taking me so well, sweet girl. you gonna cum already?" his smug response earns himself a whine from you. "or maybe you need it faster? harder?" he taunts, pounding his cock into you more hastily. you gasp as the feeling of his finger rubbing on your clit quickens too.

"MMM-! RAN!" you cry, "i'm cumming!" your muscles begin to tighten and your orgasm quickly washes over you. ran moans with you as you ride out your high, his own orgasm approaching. "fuuuuck yeah... cum all over my cock! you're so fucking good..."

he thrusts into you a couple more times then spurts his load inside you. he groans and slams your hips down on his cock, fucking his cum deeper into you. he places a few kisses on your back and shoulders as he comes down from his heightened pleasure.

while you're fixing yourself to return back to work, ran calls for your attention.

"don't let anyone else touch you. i want little miss bonten to myself."

dividers by benkeibear

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ taglist: @bloodsiren @milky-aeons @katkusuo

@i-literally-cant-with-this @manjiro-sanhoe @priv-rose

@reiners-milkbiddies @toji-girl-main @lees-chaotic-brain @darkstarlight82

@blueberrisdove @kodzukein @trevengersprincess

#ran haitani smut #ran haitani x reader smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokrev smut #tokrev x reader smut #tokyo revengers x reader smut #ran haitani #haitani ran

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mncxbe · 5 months

Note

Hi! Your acc is so awesome honestly and so cute it makes my heart do the smiley emote :)

My request is chuuya x reader, where reader isn't feeling well but doesn't wanna bother chuuya (not feeling well as in mentally) but reader really wants to cuddle with chuuya, so eventually they cave and call chuuya to ask if they can come over just to cuddle and watch a movie and chuuya is worried if they're ok. Reader reaches and kinda falls into chuuyas arms and they chill and cuddle for the rest of the night <3

Have a heavenly day!

tysm nonnie you're really sweet♡♡ and I absolutely love this idea. I changed it up a slight bit so I hope it's alright and you like it♡

°☆○

I'll bring the coffee if you bring the wine♡

𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡/ barely proofread sorry in advance for any mistakes

You stared down at the glowing screen, thumb lingering just above the arrow shaped button. Should you actually send the text?

Your boyfriend was probably at home by now so it's not like you'd bother him at work, but you still didn't see it fit to text him so late in the evening. After all, you've only been together for two months and asking him to come over at 10 p.m seemed a little strange; and what if he was out with some friends and you'd mess up his plans?

You took in a deep breath, trying to push these thoughts in the back of your mind. Your day has been more than miserable and all you wanted was to spend some time with your partner. Finally pressing the send button, you set the phone down beside you and turned on the tv, switching from channel to channel in attempt to keep your mind occupied.

Chuuya's reply came through almost instantly. 'Sure, I'll be over in a few. Is everything alright?'. You texted back a quick 'Yea. Just feeling a bit down' before returning your gaze to the tv screen.

Around half an hour later, the light buzz of the electric lock announced Chuuya's arrival. Gathering your remaining strength you got off the couch and tip-toed to the hall to find him taking off his coat.

"Hey baby. You feeling alright?" he asked in his usual gentle voice but you just nodded in response.

You were too mentally exhausted to give him an actual reply, to tell him how burnt out and miserable you felt so you simply reached out your arms and wrapped them around his waist, pressing yourself flush against his chest.

Chuuya immediately returned the hug, one of his gloved hands resting atop your hair as he pulled you closer to him. You closed your eyes, feeling your mind slowly quieting down; the dark thoughts that've been bothering you for days now evaporating into thin air.

You couldn't bring yourself to pull away, not even when he removed his hand from your head and gently cupped your jaw, tilting it up so he could get a glimpse of your face.

"You wanna tell me what's bothering you sweetie, or shall I let you be?"

"I don't really wanna talk about it. I've just had some shitty days and I missed you." you confessed, voice carrying a slight edge that Chuuya didn't miss.

"Alright, how about we go watch a movie then? Sure it's gonna make you feel better."

You made your way to the couch and nestled yourself beside Chuuya, arms wrapped loosely around his waist; his own arm draped over your shoulder, bringing you closer to his chest as he took off his gloves to run his fingers through your hair. Sighing softly, you leaned into his touch, allowing him to coax the summertime sadness out of you with each gentle caress.

You could feel his hot breath against your temple, his lips peppering your face with feathery kisses and you couldn't help but smile; you were melting into his arms like candle wax.

"Feeling better babe?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Way better. Thank you Chuu" you beamed, briefly pressing your lips to his. He gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before returning his attention to the movie you ended up watching, and old picture film about a girl in New York City.

The warmth and comfort of his embrace lulled you into a dreamy langour, eyes heavy with sweet, powdery stardust. Chuuya felt you slowly relax into his arms and smiled, heat blooming in his chest. He watched you slowly close your eyes and remained motionless until the end of the movie when he slowly reached for the remote.

Feeling the sudden motion you groaned, eyes fluttering open as you tugged lightly at his shirt.

"Don't leave yet" you mumbled and he couldn't help but chuckle; your sleepy face was the prettiest thing he's ever laid eyes upon.

He switched off the tv and pulled your head back on his chest, savouring your presence and the quietude of your apartment, dimly lit only by the glow of the city.

"Don't worry dear. I'm not going anywhere"

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #chuuya fluff #chuuya x reader #bsd chuya #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Text

the sargeant's tattoos | b.b.

SUMMARY: It's a lazy morning in bed, and your boyfriend has new tattoos, which means inspection. Bucky lets you do your thing, as always.

🏷️ Established relationship, fluff, body worship. WC: [2.2k].| 📑 This work is part of a series called Coming In Hot, but it can be read as a stand alone. This is specially for the nonnie that missed it. Mwah.

"Can you get back up here?" You giggle. "I wanna see the new one. You said it's healed. Lemme see, Sargeant."

Bucky's got a thing for your legs, he tells you all the time, but the amount of time he's willing to spend sometimes kneeling on the floor just because your bed is basically on the floor is ridiculous sometimes.

He looks up at you, rubbing his scruff on your calf and smiling with the same indecency in his eyes he had when he first walked in and saw you sprawling across the bed with a book in your hands and only your newest sundress—pure want, mixed with devious thoughts and even more devilish intent.

"I like it down here," Bucky answers. He puts on a cute pout, and you grab him by his hair. The soft and now longer strands are perfect for pulling, and you smile with your jaw hanging open at the fact that this bastard hisses with a smile on his face at the strength you use. "Ow. So you get to trace my tattoos for as long as you'd like—ow, woman, god, you're hot when you're needy little this," Bucky's laughter tastes somehow even better when he presses it against your mouth. "But. If I spend half an hour sucking bruises on your legs, I can't? I don't like that. Doesn't sound that fair to me."

You're successful in pulling him back in bed with you.

"I just miss you," you whine. You kiss him back when Bucky dives for several small pecks, holding his head there, as close to you as possible. "And your tattoos are up there with my favorite art pieces. You know that. You also gave me full permission to ogle them for as much as you want, so..." you shrug your shoulders.

Bucky scrunches his nose, then lets all of his weight drop on you.

Your body lets out an 'oof' sound when he does that, but you wrap your legs around his waist even though you can barely breathe.

In a mocking tone of military order, Bucky says. "Tell me I can go back to my duty of honor after you're done with your starin'."

"No!" Bucky's heavy, and if he makes you laugh this is over before it starts. "You said we're gonna go watch a movie, Buck."

"Don't whine at me, darlin'. Tell me I can do it or else I'll just crush you to death," he insists, wiggling his body for good measure.

Muscle.

Your boyfriend left the military many years ago — thank everything that's real — and his only exercises involve a lot more aerobics than you'd like to think of at any given time, but he's also a mechanic.

One who loves what he does, who's always doing the most himself. You've seen him lift things in that car shop you were sure were a part of the decor, and it shows.

"If you stay on top of me like that for one more minute I'm gonna lick your face, Barnes."

The threat almost sounds real, but Bucky knows how to recognize weakness in your voice when he hears it better than anyone.

He leans closer to your face. "Tell me," he whispers, inches away from your lips.

"Fine. You can go back to whatever you want between my legs," you exhale heavily. Oh, what a cruel hand you'd been dealt with. "Now off. On the bed, face down." You wiggle your eyebrows.

A deal's a deal, so Bucky gets off.

Smiling because he's won what he wants, too, but all that matters right now is finally getting the time to look.

When he arrived earlier at your place, you'd been so lost in the ocean of sadness, longing, and desperate need to see him, be near him, kiss him, taste him feel him rub on him gasp his name have him writhing and begging for you, begging for him right back, Bucky BuckyBucky—there was time for nothing else.

Barely a hello.

His working clothes were still somewhere close to your front door, with grease on them and a button missing, most likely.

You hated residency.

Hated being away from him, the boys — your boys — and hated even more that the limited time you had was often wasted doing stupid, grown-up shit.

You missed and loved Bucky Barnes each more every day, ever since the day he welcomed you into his shop and fixed your Baby, and being away from him felt like torture at times.

Specially when he got a new tattoo.

Bucky laid with his stomach on the mattress, wiggled his hips a few times to get comfortable, and placed a pillow under his head.

"Go ahead," he muttered, resting his cheek on your silk pillowcase and casting his blue eyes on you.

You climbed on top of him this time, sitting on his ass.

"Pain level?" You ask.

The first of many questions, as he well knows.

"Mmm. A solid five. The parts closest to the ribs were the worst," he answers.

Your fingertips start tracing the lines of the tattoo that so far you had only seen through pictures.

There was not an ounce of a lie in your previous statements to Bucky:

All his tattoos were art.

This new one was no exception.

"Time?" You ask.

"Seven hours with a few breaks here and there," Bucky answers.

You whistle. "That's impressive, Sargeant."

He chuckles. "It's not that painful," he states.

"So you say," you tease him.

Bucky's still daydreaming about the day you'll allow him to pay for a tattoo on you, and the day is yet to arrive.

The art he puts on him makes him look like art as well.

It was the first thing you said back when at the beginning of the relationship you had a chance to truly look at his tattoos. To lay on his chest and analyze them from up-close without feeling like you were invading the privacy of what they meant.

Each tattoo Bucky had held personal meaning to him — unlike his best friend, Steve, who had a bunch of random (and beautiful) shit permanently drawn on many parts of his body — and it took no genius to figure out Bucky would rather chomp his own feet off than talk about it with anyone.

You knew from stories of the boys that Bucky had the habit of giving people the bluntest answers he'd given on the times they all traveled to the beach and the rare occasions when someone saw him shirtless and asked about his very sick tattoos.

How could you blame those people?

On his right side, drawn across his ribs, there was a raven taking flight. A very realistic one about the size of an adult man's hands spread wide open.

"That's my dad's favorite bird. He liked the poem by Poe—very on the nose, I know. But I like it, too. It's funny this is the first one you ask about 'cause... this was the first one I got."

Unlike with others, Bucky had no problem talking to you.

He told you about the raven, about Saturn on his chest, and the story his mother told him when he was a kid about how she had a guardian angel who picked up rocks and asteroids straight from the planet of Saturn only on the special occasion of her birthday, and how his mother started to give him her special "Saturn stone" to him whenever he felt anxious.

"She said it wouldn't give me superpowers, but that it had superpowers and I had to trust it would just be whatever I need to face off the challenge I was anxious about, and... it worked." That explanation had been so beautiful you told him it made you want to get Saturn's rings tattooed on you, and that had made Bucky laugh. "It's a nice magic thing to believe in. You know... back in the desert, sometimes... I would just pick up any stone, close my eyes, and pretend it was a Saturn ring. Carry it around in my pocket like a lucky charm."

Before the newest addition, Saturn had been your favorite of all his pieces.

Bucky also had tattooed on his left chest a hyper-real android thing that made it look like he was part robot on the inside.

"This one was just after I learned how to accept this," he'd told you, wiggling his prosthetic arm. "Learning how to feel okay with the new me and all that yadda."

Then, there was the constellation.

Wrapping around the left-wing on the back of his left shoulder there was the constellation of Cassiopeia.

"It was... this was Kim's favorite." The sound of Bucky's lost battalion member might be closed, but the scar of losing a loved one was forever. "Stars and stuff like that was the first thing that got him talking back then. You know how he was intimidated by Stevie and I..." You recalled seeing the fondness and the obvious infatuation still visible in Bucky's eyes when talking about Kim, and all it made was bring you this wave of sadness of knowing you'd never be able to meet someone who made Bucky feel so happy. "It was the first thing we really talked about. And we could talk about it for hours."

After you two started dating, Bucky got a new one a few months after on the back of his right shoulder in the same conceptual style as this newest piece.

It was a quote from Wuthering Heights.

Be with me always. Take any form—Drive me mad!

The quote stood between an anatomically correct heart and a book.

Seconds before showing you, Bucky had stood on your bedroom door playing with his fingers and hair, trying to figure out what to say. Then, he had just closed his mouth, took off his shirt and come to sit next to you in bed in complete silence.

When you read the quote, all you could see was your Instagram post.

He had sat and waited for you to find your own words, and it took you a while.

"It's gorgeous."

Bucky had looked at you, smiling so softly it hurt. "An ode to love."

"Is it?"

"It is. It turns out... that there is such thing as a love you'd want forever."

That day was one of your favorites. Ever.

Today, though, you stand there sitting on your favorite seat with your fingers tracing the new conceptual art on his back.

There were a lot of things, but the main connection was time, and in the other lines, you recognized little things that each traced back to one of the boys from his group. To Steve, Sam, Peter, Gabe, Morita—even Kim was there if you paid close attention to details.

It was gorgeous.

Then, you noticed that the dismantled machine on one of the edges of the tattoo was a 1959 Cadillac.

Your Cadillac.

"Bucky..."

"Ah. She found it," he says with a laugh, talking to himself. With a look up, you see Bucky twisting his neck a little just to look at you. "You like it?"

Like it?

To be included in his vision of... what? Family? Love? All the things that time brought to him and mattered?

Your answer is to close the distance between your bodies and press your lips on his. Bucky sighs softly, kissing you back and trying to hold onto his smile.

"I love you so much," you whisper to him. I'm not gonna cry. I'm not gonna cry. To fulfill that, you focus on kissing him some more. "I love how the art on you makes you even sexier. It should be fucking illegal, to be honest, but it's the best eye candy ever so I do not care."

"I'm eye candy?" Bucky asks, laughing again.

You nod. "You know you are." And... there it is. The blush on his cheeks as he shakes his head, trying to play coy or argue with you when he knows it's useless. Caressing his face, you sing the praises your lips are used to. "Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous Sargeant," they're as familiar as the taste of his mouth by now, and how much he seems to drink them in is all that you ever want to see at the end of the day.

Bucky blinks heavily, smiling so hard his cheeks must be hurting.

Then, he opens those hypnotizing blue orbs and leans in to sensually touch his lips on yours.

"And she wonders why I love to spend time between these legs," he hums in feign disapproval.

There's a sharp slap on the side of your thigh, and you yelp.

Bucky's smile turns devious.

"You've done your ogling. Time to stick to your word, darlin'."

He's right.

This time, it's you who sighs before lying down. "Yes, Sarge."

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#usernexusnyx #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #modern!bucky #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes drabble #coming in hot

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k2ntoss · 3 months

Note

Today is my bday, can you give me smth about Jason and sex bday?🥹

first of all HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NONNIE <3 hope you enjoy a lot!!! on the other hand i feel so glad to be able to feed you with some bday sex with pretty boy jason todd so let's go, bday nonnie

before dating you jason has never been one to really think a whole lot about details, he's more reserved with his affection displays with the people he cares about. but it's been over a year and he learnt about himself how he enjoyed giving you little surprises even if it wasn't some special day it made him happy to bring a smile to your face.

for this day he's been busy getting everything ready, the love of his life's birthday was today so he couldn't let the opportunity slip. he spent the whole morning preparing your favorite dishes, putting on a nice spot on your apartment for you both to eat once you were back from work and he remebered the pretty necklace he saw caught your eyes a few weeks ago so he felt proud when he got everything ready.

as soon as you stepped into the apartment he greeted you with a wide smile and a thight hug, a shower of peck on your lips and cheeks that made you giggle "happy birthday, pretty" jason says softly against your lips, his hands in your hips before he starts walking you to the living room, filled with pretty flowers and the cushions laid around the coffee table, a few plates waiting for you and the smell is wonderful.

"jay, you didn't had to... this is everything so perfect" he knows it makes your heart melt because the smile on your lips is wide and bright, jason wraps his arms around your waist as he presses a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

"i had to, you deserve the whole world laid at your feet and i'll gladly spoil my baby" he whispers, his voice soft and filled with adoration because you know he would lay the whole universe at your feet without even asking so you let him guide you to the coffee table.

he sits to bring you to his lap, his arms around your body as he brings small pieces of food to your mouth. jason feeds you, his hands caressing here anf there while he looks at you as if you were a star on the sky, kissing your cheeks when you laugh at his words and the whole scene is filled with love and tenderness. once all the dishes are empty he takes a small bag from under the table, jason is the one taking off the little velvet box before showing you the necklace and he feels his chest fuzzy when your eyes go glassy from tears of joy.

there are no words spoken as he puts the jewerly around your neck before starting a trail of soft kisses from the side of your neck to your shoulder and it's pretty innocent until you move to lay against his chest, the sudden grind of your ass against his crotch drags a low grunt from him as his hands grip your hips "sweetheart..." jason warns you at first but drops it when his lips touch your jaw.

it's enough to make the control on him vanish, he turns you around with such an ease you can't help but let out a soft moan when his lips crash against yours in a brushing kiss "what if we take this to our room?" he asks chuckling, his hands are caressing your thighs as you nod.

"you don't have to say it twice" there's that smile jason loves to see from you, it takes nothing until he's tossing your body to the bed just so he can get on top of you, kissing and nibbling on your neck as both pair of hands are skilled enough to take off the clothes from each other.

he takes place between your legs, stroking himself before he leans down to kiss right on your collar as he slides into you slowly and carefully to not hurt you. the moan that comes out of your mouth makes him grin, your hands on jason's chest while you trace his scars as he starts to thrust in a calm pace at firts, trying to make you needdier for him.

"c'mon jay... you're being mean, i need you" you whine, eyes fixed on his in a pleading way that seems to push the right button because his hips are now hammering against you, the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin filling the room only being overpowered by your moans and jason's low growls.

"happy birthday, sweetheart" he mutters on your ear as his hand grips your throat, he smirks when you cry his name between needy moans "you're so fucking good, aren't you? deserve to be fucked just like this..." he is teasing you, knowing how wild it drives you to have him telling you dirty things while he rails you.

"you like this, right? having your legs spread just for me, such a needy and spoiled little thing" he growls, lips going down your neck and to your chest, his lips sucking on one of your nipples while the other is being pinched by his fingers.

keeping it up, his pace is hard and fast, seeking your climax doing every single thing he knows you like because after all, this is your day and he's there to please his baby.

#⭒ 📬 ⭒#HAPPY BIRTHDAY NONNIE #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd smut #jason todd x you #jason todd blurb #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd #red hood imagine #red hood smut #red hood #dc comics #reader insert

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missblissy · 2 months

Note

Vox x reader but its fluufffy as shit- like im talking hurt/comfort like full on motherfucker is down so infamously bad

((Ofc Nonny UwU Vox is a guilty pleasure of mine, so this was fun to write. Again.... IM STILL A LIL RUSTY SO IM SORRY IF IT'S NO EXACTLY WHAT YOU HAD IN MIND QWQ... But! As always, Enjoy!))

Little taps traveled down the lush golden halls, with a tiny fury in each step. Sparks and zaps and zips twisted from the broken wires popping out of your skin. The arm you clutched tightly let out fizzes and glitches and your broken hand moved on its own.

You found an elevator and slapped the buttons with your good hand then stared at the spycam in the corner, “Vox!” You whined, “Let me in!” Your high pitched cry was more of an annoying beg but still… It worked. The elevator’s door dinged and shut before lowering down into the catacombs of the mega tower.

At first some silly stupid song played in the elevator before a familiar voice came over the speakers, “What did you do now?” It was Vox. You raised a brow, a pointed and angry pout as you took a side glance at the spycam. Shameless guilt was on your face, as you caved and confessed, “It wasn’t my fault! I was just trying to get today’s filming done and that-” You stopped yourself and took a breath before you got worked up again, “Anyways,” You held up the broken arm and hand, “I need a tune up, and you know I won’t let the tech boys touch me,”

The elevator slowly lost its walls and you were standing alone on a moving platform lowering itself to a bridge. You didn’t even wait for it to reach the ground or stop, you jumped halfway down and started skipping along the bridge. With a new tune in your step, happy to have gotten your way, you gave a cheerful wave to the tanks full of sharks while heading towards Vox’s lair.

You first checked his room full of tv monitors and spy cams, he wasn’t in his Little Throne as he put it. So you made your way to his workshop. He was already there sorting through replacement arms for you. With your good arm you looped it with his and gave him a playful nudge, “Thank you, Voxxy~!” You hummed out, putting on extra layers of cuteness knowing he’d be annoyed with you already for interrupting his work.

“Mhmm,” Vox hummed, then reached for a robotic arm. You quickly pushed his hand away from that one, “Not that model,” You told him, “Remember? It’s got that bug that makes the nervous system fail,” He just nodded his head and reached for another arm while gesturing for you to sit down. You did just that, sitting on the workbench with your feet swinging back and forth off the edge.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?” Vox asked while keeping his eyes focused on the task at hand. He took your broken arm and first looked over the damage, then the hand as well. His eyes flicked up to yours as he added, “Or do I need to check the surveillance system?” His hands lightly grabbed you by the crook of your arm, bending it by the elbow to find the hidden port under your skin. He pressed nothing, just skin, but soon it lit up in the shape of a little heart.

You looked away with a pout, maybe the cute act wasn’t going to help. You huffed and rolled your eyes, “She started it!” You yelped, “I was doing the scene for this month’s show perfectly, as always, and the stupid bitch couldn’t deliver her lines right!” All while you ranted, Vox managed to run his finger along your arm and unlock the skin shell, uncovering the wires, blots, tubes and bars that made up your insides.

A heavy gulp came from your throat, and your irritation slowly melted to an uncomfortable uneasiness. It was still so strange to you to be nearly fully made of bits and parts. So was Vox…. but still… It wasn’t a familiar concept to you quite yet. On the outside you looked completely the same as you’d always had in your afterlife. Selling your soul to the overlord was the biggest decision you’ve ever made. Surely one day you’d live to regret it, but so early on into the contract you hadn’t found any solid reason to regret a single choice you’ve made with Vox thus far.

He treated you so much better than Valentino did to Angel Dust. in fact Vox tried his best to keep you as far from them as possible. You were uniquely his. Literally, he made you. Bought your soul, tore it from its flesh and welded it to new metals. And you’d be lying entirely if you said you didn’t feel something for Vox. It was the biggest reason for being his, you felt some type of way and he liked to stroke that ego and play along with it.

Vox gave you a smug look however, with gentle hands he removed the arm entirely, “And who threw the first punch?” He asked. Which was a very good question, because you definitely did. Called out and put on the spot, your cheeks started to burn different shades of pink and red, “You’re still a prototype,” Vox hummed. From what you could feel, it was nice. The way his cool finger tips tentatively work at the seams of your sinews. He clearly was putting care into each and every work on your wiring, “You aren’t yet strong enough to take on a co-star, much less anyone, in a fight,” He said.

He had never been cruel with you, or even mean. Vox could be stern, like now, lecturing you to do better, be better. But his touch was always soft and careful. Like you were his greatest work of art, his favorite thing to work on, and his beloved precious project. And sure, he liked the person you were too. It was just a bonus that you could make him laugh, or get him to stop faking his smiles for real ones.

It didn’t help how often he kept you at his side. Filming was really the only time you were away from Vox, otherwise, you were always near, always in sight, and never too far from reach. Vox preferred it that way, and, honestly… so did you. So it was a welcoming and familiar touch, his hands tinkering away, checking you over as to look for any other damage.

Sheepishly you laughed and said, “Well, at least I only walked away with a broken arm,” And Vox chuckled along with you. The girl you fought couldn’t say as much. You nearly tore her in two… She was just so… annoying! And you got so sick of doing the same scene over and over and over…. “I taught her a thing or two about real tears, that’s for sure,” Your snotted little huff and pout was back, though luckily Vox seemed to enjoy it, “She had it coming, and I basically won if there was even a competition anyways,”

He even agreed and said, “I’m sure you held your own, I don’t doubt you can’t kick some ass,” He then attached the new arm and started flicking and switching things on from within your hardware, “But I can’t have my little super star starting fights, or getting into them, or risk damaging the goods,” He smirked as he looked over his work with pride. Finally he snuck in a kiss and you felt all your rage melt away. First there was one on your cheek, then Vox gave you a quick but deep kiss before pulling away.

Vox then grabbed a new skin shell and snapped it in place, slowly feeling returned. The chill of his hands running down your arm, clearing off all the dust and fuzz, sent little buzzing sparks down the newly awakened skin, “It’s not good for our image either,” Vox added with a smirk and raised brow, “You’re my little super star, hell’s new sweetheart that everyone can’t get enough of,” He then fixed your hair, tuffing it back in place, curling it around your ear, “We can’t have leaks of you beating your co-star into a pulp getting out,” He rolled the sleeve of your shit back down, smoothed it out, and stole another kiss.

You could feel your arm again and life buzzed into the metal, until it heated up and felt all the same as any natural or organic creatures. As much as you like the coddling in his words, you tried out your wrist and looked at your nails, asking, “What am I, if I’m just your little super star? Are you trying to make your own fizz bot? A Vox bot? Whatever you call it, just some way to steal Mammon’s power?”

Vox smirked and pinched your cheek with his fingers and gave a little shake, cooing at you while saying, “To some degree, yes. A bigger, better, smarter one that runs off a human soul,” You pushed his hand away but he just grabbed your hand instead, pulled you off the table, to your feet, and gave you a little spin, “But for now, you’re just my favorite little toy, right?”

A little yelp jumped from your lips as he spun you around, then caught you with one hand. You could not lie, the way this man spoiled you had you hooked, line and caught. He made it so easy for the both of you to forget what goes on outside this workshop of his. He made it easy to forget he owned you…. He made you what you are now.

Or perhaps that part of the deal you like. Who knows. It was unexplainable your attraction to him and you honestly didn’t mind being his pet, his distraction, his stowaway. Whatever one may call it, you were sucked in by his every word and move… every single time. Besides, you could pride yourself on being the one that cheered him up, that made him happy, especially when Valentino upset him. You were the one that Vox poured hours of his time into, who he tediously worked to improve. You were his favorite distraction.

He moved you about in a silly little mock dance, an equally silly tune playing from him, “And for now, your job is to just stay pretty, talented, flawless, and overall perfect just as you are,” His wooing words melted your metal heart. He slowed, holding your hands in his while he then gave a smile, a raised brow, and asked in a way that wasn’t really asking, but rather telling, “So no more fights, and ruining all my hard work, right?”

You blinked up at him, still slightly flustered from the mini dance, and even more so that he held you so close to him, “R-right,” You breathed then gave a small smile yourself. It was a strange relationship the two of you had, it clearly wasn’t something outsiders would understand. He peppered kisses along your new arm and trailed them up your shoulder, leaving a few on your cheek as you giggled out.

He gave you a twirl then spun you off, “Now get back to work,” Vox’s grin stayed full on his face while you got your footing again. With a huff, you crossed your arms and gave a pointed look, teasing him obviously and putting on a bratty act, “I don’t need anymore distractions until about…” He paused and looked at his watch, “Five thirty?”

Your foot tapped a few times and you shifted weight from one leg to the other, hip out in a sassy look, “I’m not a distraction,” You pouted, then rolled your eyes with a grin to match his, “Six thirty,” You challenged him, seeing if he could push off the time and actually commit to his work, “I should be done filming by then anyways,”

“Fine,” Vox shrugged, seemingly unbothered by your teasing, “Six thirty,” He echoed. Vox then blew a little kiss to you, with spark and zap it zipped across the air in the shape of a little heart. The sweet sting of its electric shock warmed your cheek and let out a little snap on contact. You giggled and let your arms fall, a more cheeky look on your face and less of a pout as you spun on your heel and skipped back off to work.

#the queue tag!!#hazbin hotel #hazbin #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #vox x you #reader inserts

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charliehoennam · 7 months

Note

Aww I love your writing so much!!!! 🩷🩷 The detective Loki A-Z felt so accurate 🥹 he’s so precious. Can you write something that kind of goes off the jealousy area? Like it’s a coworker who reader gets close with and is honestly clueless to the flirting?

F o r g i v e n

a/n: here you go, nonny! i couldn't agree more. David is my baby and he deserves some happiness and a warm hug

pairing: Detective David Loki x reader

summary: a new co-worker makes a misguided move on the reader and david gets pissed

warnings: language, angst, arguing (if i missed one, lemme know. minors, do not interact!)

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Sliding your legs over the edge of your side of the bed, you sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes. David’s on the phone with O’Malley. You already know he’s gotta go into work today.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in 30 tops” he says lowly in his gravely morning voice before hanging up his cell phone.

“I’ll make breakfast” you smile sleepily at him.

You reach out to reassuringly squeeze his arm to let him know it’s alright. He’s already mentally beating himself up for waking you up and not being able to be enjoy his morning off with you as he had promised.

You make your way through the one-story house and head to the kitchen to get his coffee going. You decide on making a hearty breakfast because you know very well David will skip lunch today.

So, you settle for a nice egg, bacon, and cheese sandwich on toasted bagels with cream cheese. You make two for him so he can take one to work and hopefully eat while he’s on the road. You even cut up some bananas, apples, strawberries and oranges to make a little fruit salad.

David isn’t the healthiest guy around, but he deeply appreciates that you care for him and his health. He never really had anyone to care about him – much less his health – so he’ll sure make to eat every bite.

You hear his electric razor shut off after his shower. A while later, he comes into the kitchen with his hair slicked back. His light blue button-up shirt is open, exposing his white sleeveless undershirt. His gold chain dangles and dances around his neck as he buttons the cuffs of his shirt.

You can’t help but smile to yourself. You wish you could stop him and slide his button-up off. You love it when he wears his undershirt and chain around the house.

“Honey, think you can get a ride to work today?” he asks kissing the back of your head as you slice up the fruit.

“Yeah, babe. It’s no problem. I already texted Jared and asked him to pick me up.”

His hands working the buttons closed on his front stop as his eyes narrow in on the back of your head.

“Jared? You already texted him?”

“Yeah. I figured you’d leave before me.”

“Oh…”

You know that there’s something he’s holding back from you. You turn your head to glance at him, hoping to get a read of him as you slide the chopped-up fruit in a container.

“Is there a problem with that?”

You already know the answer to that.

“No. Nothing. Just didn’t know you and Jared were so close already. I mean, didn’t he just start there like two weeks ago?”

His eyebrows rise and his lip press flat as he looks down at his hands, letting them finish their work on his shirt.

“Two months ago, but he was pretty much on his own, so I figured I’d be the first to befriend him. The first weeks are the worst when you start working at a new place.”

“Yeah, I get that. Just didn’t think you were already texting each other.”

“Dave, there’s nothing going on between us if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. Your face says it all.”

You’re slightly hurt that he would think there could be something brewinh between you and Jared. It may come from a place of worry, but isn't that trust is for?

“Look, I gotta get going. I’ll see you tonight.”

You nod as you hand him the containers of sandwiches and his travel mug. He leaves you with a kiss on your forehead and you watch him leave, letting the tension hang in the air. You try to put it on the mental backburner as you head up to get ready for your day.

Hearing a honk coming from outside, you look out the window and confirm Jared’s arrival. You grab your bag, keys and phone before heading out the door and walking to Jared’s car.

“Hey, Jare. Thanks for the late-notice lift. David got called in and my car’s still at the shop.”

“You know I don’t mind it at all. It’s been almost a couple days though. Have they given you any updates on it?”

“Something about the starting motor failing. Solenoid damage, I think? They have to replace some coils or some shit.”

“That shouldn’t take more than a few hours to replace though.”

“David says the same thing. He’s getting pretty impatient. Said he’s gonna stop by there today to check up. You know how some mechanics can be when they see a girl with car trouble.” You complete with a roll of your eyes.

“Yeah, some pricks take advantages. I know a thing or two about cars. I’d be happy to look into it for you if you want?”

“Really? Yeah, yeah. That’d be great. I’m gonna wait for David though. He said he’d stop by there today. I’ll give you a heads up though.”

After arriving to work, you head straight for your sector to settle in. You can’t help but notice how kind Jared seems to be towards you in this new light that David casted earlier in the morning.

Jared always offers to refill your water bottle whenever he gets up, always offers snacks, brings you back your favorite coffee or tea after his breaks, compliments your hair or nails or even your perfume. During the whole day, you can’t help but notice he doesn’t treat his other co-workers the same. You begin to wonder if you’ve led him on to believe you’re more than just co-workers or if it’s because he’s new and not very close to the others.

You decide to shake the thought from your head and go on about your work. However, with this new concept in the back of your mind, you start to politely deny Jared’s kind offers. He doesn’t seem hurt by it. A small wave of relief washes over you. Maybe you were just in over your head and overthinking what David had told you.

Around closing time, Jared stops by your station to check if you need a ride home. You check your phone, hoping David texted you with a reply about picking you up, but there’s no new messages.

Your heart sinks a bit. You’d hoped he could’ve at least replied. Is he really that upset with you?

“Yeah, I could use a ride.”

The house isn’t very far. You could walk home, but the rain is already pouring down heavy. And this time of year, the cold winter air is starting to arrive, slickening the streets and sidewalks with ice.

You smile to hide that you wished you didn’t need a ride from Jared. You know it’s not gonna make things easier to deal with at home.

Part of you thinks David is acting ridiculously like a child that's too selfish to share a toy. Only you’re not a toy. You’re a human being and you’re his fiancée. You’re supposed to be getting married.

The other part of you wonders how you would feel if it were the other way around. If he had a new partner on the job and spent hours with her. With everything Jared does for you, would you be ok with someone else treating David the same way?

Trying to settle the internal dispute, you remember that it’s your intentions that really counts. You’re not breaking his trust because you have no intention of getting with Jared. You’re friends and that’s all there is. And you would want David to have a good friend too in your situation.

You walk out together, gabbling on about the day as you climb into his car.

As Jared turns onto your street, you’re laughing over an amusing situation you’d survived in your first week at the company with an unsatisfied client. Jared had had his first unpleasant interaction with a frustrated client. Although he handled it pretty well, he was still a bit disappointed about it.

Grateful the rain has let up, you notice Dave’s car parked in the driveway. Why didn’t he at least text you back if he was home? You feel a slight pang in your chest, but you shove it down as you continue your conversation. Jared knows your line of though has been thrown off and he can only guess it has to do with the black Crown Victoria perched in front of the garage.

“It can happen to anyone,” you say looking up at the tall brown-haired co-worker as he turns the car off, parking in front of your house. You hear a door close from outside and keys jingling, but you don’t think much of it. Most of your neighbors get home at this time as well.

“You can’t please everybody and you have to accept that,” you resume looking down at the dashboard. “You’re not here to please, you’re here to do your job.”

“You’re an amazing person, you know that?”

Something is different about the way Jared is looking at you. It’s intense and you don’t like it.

He leans over the arm rest/storage compartment separating the front seats and places a surprising kiss on your cheek.

You quick react by pulling yourself back and gently push him away with a hand on his shoulder.

“Whoa, Jared. That’s sweet, but i-it’s not like that. We’re just friends. You realize that, right?” you ask frowning at him. “I’m happily engaged.”

“Y-yeah... I figured. I thought I-I’d shoot my shot. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He looks down embarrassed as his cheeks blush a bright regretful shade of red. “I misread things. I’m sorry. That’s on me. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just… Don’t do that again, alright?”

“Yeah. Definitely will not” he chuckles nervously. “It won’t happen again. I promise. Just like you said, we’re only friends.”

You’re not really sure how to react. You can tell he feels really awkward about the whole thing, but you just want to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Flashing a shy, nervous smile at him, you thank him for the ride and climb out of the car. You slowly walk up the concrete path, digging through you bag for your keys.

Upon finding them, you look up and freeze.

David is standing in the path, glaring at the young man in the car. As he keeps his furious gaze locked on Jared, his hands move to rest on his hip. Pushing back his black winter jacket, his gold badge and his standard issue gun are exposed to remind Jared of who he is.

You don’t realize it’s a non-verbal threat. You just think he’s pissed judging by the constant hard blinking of his eyes.

“David, it’s not what you th-“ you start only to be cut off.

“In the house. Right now.”

He has a point. This isn’t a topic to discuss outside for all your neighbors to hear.

You walk quietly past him and march up the porch. You leave the door open for him, but he’s not far behind you. Only a couple moments since he’d been staring Jared down until he finally drove away.

The door slams as he enters the house.

“Are you fucking serious? There’s nothing going on, right?” He asks loudly and angrily.

“Yes, there’s nothing going on, Dave.” You say trying to stay calm, unwilling to match his tone. You’d be angry too in his place.

“You expect me to believe that after what I just saw?!”

“Yes, because that’s the truth. I know how that looked like. He thought I was sending him signs of interest. I won’t lie about that. But I didn’t want him to do that. There is absolutely no interest on my behalf!”

“The fucking chicken hawk just kissed you!”

“I didn’t want him to! I told him that! Maybe if you had picked me up from work or at least fucking texted me back, I wouldn’t have gotten in that fucking car in the first place!” you seethe at him.

“Oh, so this is my fault??” he snaps back at you bewildered.

He opens his mouth to speak, but just in that same moment, his cell phone rings. A hushed ‘fuck’ escapes from his lips as he answers the call. You just roll your eyes and fold your arm across your chest because you already know what that means.

The conversation is quick. You can’t tell much; all you know is that Captain O’Malley is calling him into the station.

“We’re not done on this”, he says with a raised finger in your direction and opens the door behind him.

The door slams shut. You close your eyes and lean against the wall, wishing you had never gotten in that car.

Dragging your tired body up the stairs, you make your way to your room. You notice the comforter is rumpled on David’s side along with his pillows. It’s not as you had it in the morning; it was neat and made to look inviting. You sigh and run a hand through your hair. Now you know why he didn’t answer you at first; he had fallen asleep.

You set your bag atop of the dresser that you share. You dig out your phone to set it to charge. There’re a couple unread messages and 2 missed calls; all from David and right around the time you’d left work.

Sorry, babe. Fell asleep and just woke up.

On my way right now!

You feel guilty thinking about how you could’ve avoided the whole ordeal. Now, David is mad at you and you’re mad at him for thinking that you wanted Jared to kiss you.

You head into the ensuite bathroom to shower and let the water wash away the stress of your day. As the warm water pours over you, you just hope this isn’t what ends your relationship.

Once you’re cleaned and a bit more relaxed, you go about the house to start on some of the chores. Deciding on a simple, quick and easy dinner, you sit on the couch to eat by yourself.

It’s been hours since David’s left and you miss him. You just want him to come home, so you can tell him how much you miss and love him.

You look down at your phone. He read your “I’m sorry” text, but he hasn’t replied. You wonder if it’s because he’s busy or he just doesn’t want to talk to you.

Wanting to stay up and wait for him, you start on the dirty dishes and pots in the kitchen. Then the laundry. You can’t stay still. It bothers you too much and you have to stay awake. There’s nothing left to do around the house, so you plot back down on the couch and surf through the channels to try to find something to watch.

It’s around midnight when you hear his car pull into the driveway. You race to the window to look out and make sure it’s him. He looks tired as he approaches the house with his keys in hand. His shoulders are hunched from the weight of the day’s stress.

You stand by the window and watch as he drags himself inside. He closes the door and hangs up his jacket before kicking his boots off. His back is turned to you and he hasn’t seen you yet.

When he does, he gazes at you for a moment. He’s too tired to argue, but he loves the fact that you’re wearing his sweater.

“You hungry? I made dinner. I can make you a plate,” you say softly breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I could eat.”

It’s quiet between you both. It’s a moment of cease fire. The elephant is still in the room, but you know how his weighs heavily on him. Especially with the case he’s working on. You don’t know much about it. David likes to keep that away from you. All you know is what you heard on the news and that there are kids involved. Those types of cases hit too close to home for him.

You leave him to eat in peace and tell him that you’re heading up to bed.

Assuming he’ll sleep on the couch since he must be upset still, you head to the bathroom to have a final tinkle before bed and brush your teeth. You crawl into bed and hug your pillow as you stare at the wall, luminated only by the fluorescent orange light of the street lamps.

Tears prick your eyes. You hate this distance between you and him. It’s ridiculous, but you know it’s not the time for it.

You hear David’s footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall. The door creaks as he walks into the bedroom.

He goes about his usual routine; set his ring and chain on top of the dresser along with his badge. Then he walks over to the nightstand to open the drawer there. He pulls his gun from it's holster and makes sure its' safety is on. He had set it before already, but it never hurt to double check.

Soon after setting the gun in the lockbox within the drawer, he quietly makes his way to the bathroom. He opens the squeaky faucet and water pours from the shower.

He doesn’t take long. It’s a quick shower to wash his hair and body. He’s too tired to do more than he has to.

You hear him come into the room to grab a pair of boxers from his drawers. He seems quiet and still. Though your back is turned to him, you feel his eyes on you.

He stands still, hands on the wooden dresser as he mentally contemplates what to do. He knows it wasn’t your fault. He knows it wasn’t you who kissed Jared. He saw you pull away and push him back. He knows you didn’t like it or expect it just as much as him.

His head drops and his eyes close. In truth, the time at work had kept him too busy to think about it much, but he did think about you. Part of him felt you were like a victim, caught up in the crime with no fault. The other part of him wondered what could have happened to influence Jared to kiss you.

With a heavy sigh, you sense his footsteps approaching the bed. You expect to feel the wool blanket at the foot of the bed slide off along with his pillow.

To your surprise, you feel the comforter lifts behind you allowing a cool breeze to creep onto your back. Your heart beats faster. The mattress dips with his heavy frame. And you feel an arm drape over your waist.

“You awake?” His voice is a whisper in the dark.

You reply with a nod. You don’t want him to see you’re crying, though you know it’s inevitable.

“Can we talk?”

You quickly wipe your eyes in an attempt to omit the evidence of your pain. Turning onto your other side, you’re face to face. His hand doesn’t leave your waist. You let him slide underneath your shirt to feel your warmth.

“I don’t wanna fight. I don’t wanna argue,” he starts.

“Neither do I, Dave.” Your voice is soft as you reach to tenderly hold his bicep. You want to pull him close and hold him forever, but that might be too much.

“Are you really happy being with me?”

Your heart breaks to think that he feels like you might not be happy with him. You open your mouth to answer him, desperate to chase away his fear, but he continues.

“I know I’m not the best partner. I know for sure I haven’t been in the past. In some relationships, I didn’t even try to be. But I’m trying, sweetheart. I’m trying real hard because I love you and I want to be with you. I don’t know if it’s enou-“

You can’t listen to him anymore.

“Listen to me, Dave. I love you. You are more than enough for me and you make me the happiest in the world. And that’s enough for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You sure about that?” he asks with pleading eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Jared is just a dude I felt bad for at work. I was just trying to be a friend, that’s all. But he misread my intentions. That’s it, that’s all that happened. And I’m gonna distance myself from him because I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

David feels relieved to hear your solution. He didn’t want risk sounding like a possessive jerk and ask you to not talk to Jared anymore, but he likes that you’re willing to make that change willingly for the sake of your relationship.

After all, he can’t be surprised someone else would want to have you. The minute he met you, he wanted you for himself as well. He’s just lucky he got to have his chance before anyone did.

He smiles tiredly at you and closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Think you can forgive me for being a dick earlier? I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“I don’t know. You might just have to make it up to me” you tease with a playful smirk, getting a low chuckle out of him.

“Whatever you want. Just name it.”

#david loki #david loki imagine #david loki prisoners #detective david loki #david loki x reader #david loki x y/n #david loki x you #prisoners #jake gyllenhaal

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geralts-yenn · 11 months

Text

Something like that - Part 1

Syverson (Sandcastle) x female reader (second-person pov) I tried to be as inclusive as possible (there's always room for improvement, please let me know how to do better...)

summary: this is the sequel to bonfire - Sy is finally taking you on a date

warnings: mentioning of masturbation, fingering, p-i-v sex (non barrier contraception - our sweeties are exclusive and have discussed protection)

word count: 3,5k

A/N: I got asked about the first date that my bonfire Sy promised at the end. Thank you for that, nonnie!😘

And then I started off with an idea, and then there was another, and another.... And when I was at 3,5k words and felt like I was halfway through the story, I decided I had to split this into two parts. So be patient, Sy is not done yet with reader...

Inspo boards for this part can be found here!

I'd love to get some feedback. Please don't hesitate to reblog, comment, ask. Like all my fellow writers, I long for every bit of interaction with my readers. If you want to make my day, hit reblog and tell me what you think🥰

taglist: @raccoon-eyed-rebel @deandoesthingstome @mayloma @fvckinghenrycavill @ylva-syverson @ellethespaceunicorn @kebabgirl67 @dopegardensaladhuman @kingliam2019 @peyton-warren

(please let me know if you want to be added or removed)

My masterlist

You were smiling when you heard the notification on your phone. Since Sy had taken you home after the night at the bonfire, he sent you a photo of him every morning. And every day these photos were getting more suggestive.

Today was no exception, and you spat your coffee over the table in surprise as you saw the picture of him, holding his mug in position to cover his bits, because - he wasn't wearing anything. A smug smile was playing on his lips. “Tonight's the night,“ was the text he sent you with it.

You hadn’t been able to see each other all week, but tonight Sy was finally taking you on a date.

You weren’t exactly nervous, but you had to admit you felt giddy when you thought about seeing him again, knowing that he felt the same for you as you did for him. After this long time of longing, you could finally be together. It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t get a little anxious.

What if this isn’t going the way you had dreamed about it so often? What if Sy realizes he doesn’t like you that much? What if you said something stupid…?

But then you tried to calm yourself down. You had been talking to each other every night and it went great. You had never laughed so much with a guy and this was something that you really could get used to.

It was exactly 6pm when you heard the loud noise of a motorcycle. You looked out to the street and in fact, Sy was parking a bike in front of your house. A minute later the bell rang, and you were answering through the intercom. “Third floor” you told him and pressed the button to open the door.

You just realized how stupid it was to say that. He must have visited Megan in this apartment before, they were friends for years.

You opened the door to your apartment and Sy was almost there, taking two steps at once. He wasn’t even out of breath when he stood before you, smiling.

“Hi, beautiful!” he greeted you and gave you a small peck on your cheek.

“Is this all I get?” you pouted at him, and with his smile growing wider, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. The kiss he pressed onto your lips now was nothing like that first one. It was fierce and greedy and hot. You opened your mouth for him and his tongue immediately started exploring and tasting you.

When you finally pulled back, you both gasped for air and both of you were smiling like idiots.

“So, we’re riding your bike?” you asked him with a raised eyebrow. Sy didn’t let you know what he had planned for you, so deciding what to wear was difficult enough. But now you stood there in your sundress and knew it wasn’t the right decision after all.

Sy nodded with a guilty look on his face.

„Sorry, last-minute decision. My truck let me down once again. So, it’s either my bike or you driving.“ He shrugged, looking apologetic.

„I’m fine with the bike. Just come in for a minute, so I can get changed.“ You stepped back from the door to let him in. Sy rubbed his hand over his scalp and this shy gesture melted your heart.

As he entered your apartment you took in his appearance. He was wearing a blue Henley shirt that accentuated his beautiful eyes. Tight-fitting jeans hugged his thighs exactly in the right places. And the brown leather jacket could hardly hide what a bulk of a man he was. You were a lucky girl for sure!

You gestured for him to sit down as you hurried into your bedroom. There were piles of clothes spread over your bed, and you grabbed a simple black shirt and some skinny jeans. A minute later, you were back at Sy and, considering the way his eyes traveled over your curves, you had made the right choices.

You took your leather jacket and your backpack and held out your hand for Sy. He took it with a grin and let you try to pull him up from your couch. He didn't help with his weight, so you didn't stand a chance. Instead, Sy snorted and pulled at your arm himself, and you found yourself on his lap the next second.

"I like you on top of me!" he whispered in your ear with his voice even lower than usual. Then he started to kiss you once more.

Right when you thought your date would both start and end with the two of you making out on your couch, Sy got up with you still cradled in his arms. He carried you to your door where he let you back down to your feet slowly. "Let's get you something to eat, sugar!" he told you and pressed a kiss on your nose.

It had been a while since you were sitting on a motorbike, but with your arms around Sy's waist, you felt like it was the best place to be in the world.

You enjoyed the wind in your hair and the scents that filled your nose as Sy drove you along fields and meadows.

After some time, the scenery changed into mountains. The road took a lot of turns and curves that made you enjoy the ride even more, as you clung to Sy’s body every time he tilted the bike around the corners.

Another fifteen minutes later, you saw where Sy was taking you to. There was a huge ferris wheel and other rides, crowds of people making their way around food stalls and stages.

When he stopped the engine, you hopped down onto the ground, your legs still trembling from the vibrations of the bike ride. Sy immediately wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed your forehead.

"You good?" he asked and you just nodded. Another small peck on your temple and then Sy guided you through the crowds. He asked you where you wanted to go first. You didn't need time to think about it, a smile plastered over your face as you turned to the huge swing ride.

"Oh fuck!" Sy groaned as he realized. "I've never been in one of those. I can't promise I won't get sick." You chuckled as you saw that big bear of a man nervously gulping as he watched the chairs flying around the pole.

"Come on, Sy! You can hold my hand if it makes you feel better!" you teased him. You couldn't believe this was what made the big army captain feel anxious. And it amused you way more than it should.

When you were seated, you held out your arm, and you couldn't help but fall even more for him as you felt Sy's big warm hand wrapping around yours.

Just another minute later, all the doubts were washed away from Sy's face and he was grinning from ear to ear as your chairs whirled over the festival grounds. He even asked you for a second round.

But after that, you could convince him to get some food. You strolled along the stalls and decided to get some burgers.

Sy ate two of them and helped you with your fries when you couldn't fit any more into you. Smiling, you brushed some barbecue sauce from his beard and kissed him.

When you both had finished your meal, you meandered around the stands, holding hands. Sy got you some cotton candy and you headed to a calmer area at the side of the fair, where the two of you sat down on the grass. After you put the last bit of sugary fluff into your mouth, Sy licked over your lips, stealing a kiss from you.

"You're the sweetest thing, darlin" he drawled into your ear, brushing his lips once more over your neck. Goosebumps spread all over your skin.

"Good decision?" he asked you, smiling.

You mirrored the soft look on his face. "Letting you take me on a date? Definitely yes!" you nudged your elbow playfully into his ribs, but he didn’t even flinch.

Sy chuckled. "I was more thinking about if you liked the festival but good to know you don't regret that night at the bonfire yet."

You saw the mischief in his eyes, he knew exactly what he made you feel. But that didn’t stop him from teasing you further. “How about my messages? Did you like those, too?”

Oh, yes, you did like them, a lot. You noticed heat crawling up your neck when you thought about that last picture he sent you this morning. And what you did after you saw it. His grin only got wider as he watched you, standing there with red ears, not answering.

“What?” he asked, laughing. You cleared your throat. Somehow you desperately needed a sip of water. Sy cheekily grinned at you, his eyebrows raised.

“I liked them,” you simply said. But Sy didn’t let go of that topic. “How much did you like that last one?” Without even noticing, you bit your lip as you thought about that selfie that showed almost every benefit Sy’s body had. You couldn’t fight back a small laugh. “Too much” you murmured.

That was undoubtedly what Sy was hoping for. “Tell me what it did to you, sugar.” His voice was deep as he dragged out his words.

Okay, he wouldn’t let go, he wanted you to tell him. So, it was time to be bold:

“I went back into my bedroom after I cleaned up the coffee that I spat all over the kitchen.” You were pleased as you noticed that tiny bit of surprise on Sy’s face over your confession. But this was just for a second before his expression fell back to the smug smile that you knew so well by now.

You didn’t think his voice could drop any lower, but it did. “What did you do in your bedroom?” Damn, he really wanted you to say it. Cheeky bastard! Maybe it was time to make him shut up.

“I dropped my panties and got rid of my shirt, too. Then I got my favorite toy out of my night stand. I put my phone with your photo on my pillow, started to tease myself with that rabbit vibrator and pinched my nipples with my other hand. I edged myself for several minutes, but then I came hard all over my hand, thinking of you.”

Now it was on you to give him a mischievous grin. Sy’s face showed something entirely different. His eyes were wide and dark. His gaze appeared to be hungry, almost feral.

Sy’s Adam’s apple bopped as he swallowed hard. “We need to get away from here, now!” he said. “I need you somewhere where we’re alone” The way he said it made you press your thighs together in an unsuccessful attempt to keep your composure. You needed him, and he needed you.

You pulled him close and the kiss you pressed onto his lips was probably a little too much of PDA, but you just didn't care.

And Sy didn’t care either apparently. He got to his feet, pulling you with him. And as he guided you back to his motorcycle, the whole way back to the parking lot he couldn't keep his hands to himself. You felt them on the small of your back, on your arms, on your hips…

Without any further words, you got onto his bike. You were certain that Sy would bring you to his home, but after only a few minutes you realized he was driving in a different direction. You asked yourself where you were heading as Sy took a turn onto a narrow dirt road. The road led you through some woods and you were really glad that you trusted Sy. This wasn't a typical location choice for a first date.

But when Sy stopped his motorcycle, you were in awe. There was a cute little cabin in front of you, right by the edge of a lake. It had a wooden walkway that stretched from the house to the water.

Sy wordlessly guided you to the pier. He couldn't have used his mouth to talk because he just didn't stop spilling kisses all over your neck and shoulders.

While maneuvering you onto the deck, he managed to take off your jacket as well as his own. He threw both of them carelessly onto the floor.

"Sy, this is beautiful!" you told him and he just hummed in approval into your ear as he started lapping on your earlobe.

A gasp escaped your mouth at the sensation. That was a weak spot of yours. And Sy immediately took note of it and used it against you. Soon he had you squirming in his arms.

He led you to sink onto a large sun lounger and followed you, kneeling between your thighs. Sy definitely had just one goal right now and you couldn’t blame him. You had teased him just a little too much.

He worked on your jeans and after he was still struggling with the tight piece of clothes a minute later, you took pity on him and helped him to get the stubborn fabric down your thighs. Your shirt, on the other hand, was no challenge for Sy and so you were finally spread out in front of him, only in your panties and bra.

You had chosen your best set of lingerie for him, but Sy couldn’t have cared less right now. He opened your bra and tossed it to the side, sinking his face between your boobs.

His hands roamed over your sides, his fingers brushing with surprising tenderness over the swell of your breasts, your ribs and your waist. When they found the elastics of your panties, your last piece of garment was gone, too. As he sank his head further down your stomach, you stopped him. Sy gave you a displeased grunt as you tugged on his neck and pulled him up to your face again.

“I’ll let you do whatever you have on your mind in a minute, but please let me enjoy the view, too!” you purred. You tugged on his shirt and Sy took the hint in a second and hopped out of his clothes as fast as he could.

You couldn’t suppress a needy whimper as he towered over you, his cock standing proud between his thighs. The last time you had him naked in front of you, it was dark and you were nervous and confused. You were still a bit nervous, but this time you took your time to take in his breathtaking appearance.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his smug grin once more showing. You bit your lip and pulled him down to you.

“I like it very much. Now show me what it feels like.” You cupped his butt cheeks in a firm grip and grinded your hips up to him. You moaned as you felt his erection press against you. But Sy pulled out of your embrace as he lay down on his side next to you.

“Let me take care of you first, sugar,” he rustled in between placing soft kisses all over your throat and chest. His hand moved over your thighs and with gentle pressure on your knee, he parted them. You squirmed as his fingers made their way back up your inner thighs. Then they finally helped you ease the ache that throbbed in your core.

Sy’s fingers brushed through your slick folds and circled your clit, enticing desperate moans from you. Sy answered your sounds with a deep groan himself. His other hand joined his ministrations on your pussy, he gathered your arousal and then pushed one finger into you.

Your head fell back. As if he could sense your needs, he hit every spot just right. A second finger joined, and with every pump, you felt the tension building inside of you. A few more jolts and you snapped, your rapture washing over you.

Still trying to catch your breath, you opened your eyes to see that cheeky bastard’s face over you, his grin showing how pleased he was with what he’d done to you. He bent down for a heated kiss and moved to settle between your legs once more.

He positioned himself and then you felt how he sank into you. Taking his time, he slowly stretched your walls, inch for inch until he was finally buried in you to the hilt.

A deep growl rustled through his chest. “Taking me so well, princess!” he praised you. His strokes were slow. Too slow. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pressed your heels into his back. “Please!” you whimpered.

“So needy! What do you want, sugar? Use your words!” He stopped moving completely and gazed deeply into your eyes. He really got off by teasing you, wanted to hear you plead.

“Damn, Sy, stop making love and start fucking me!”

He chuckled satisfied and then he fulfilled your wish. His arms wrapped around your legs and pulled your hips up to him. He lay your calves on his shoulders and started to pound hard into you. The sounds of your bodies slamming together mixed with your pants and moans. Drops of sweat were running down Sy’s temples.

He spread his thighs further apart and with this he slammed into you even deeper than before. You watched his abs spasm with every thrust. His movements got more erratic. His grunts were desperate and shaky now. Just seeing him like this pushed you close to your second orgasm.

“Just like that!” you begged. “Please, I’m so close!” Sy moaned loudly at your confession. He tried to keep up his rhythm and finally, he felt your walls clench around his cock as he had brought you over the edge.

Sy pulled back, letting your ass and legs sink back onto the mattress. You winced in protest as he slipped out of you, but Sy pressed a hard kiss onto your lips. “Shhh, darlin.” he muttered. He towered between your legs and pumped himself, watching you as you lay before him in post orgasmic bliss. He needed just a few strokes and then thick ropes of cum spurted over your stomach and tits. With his hips quivering, he pressed the last drops of his semen out of him and then he slumped down next to you.

He pressed a kiss onto your temple and took some deep breaths. As you started to move, he stopped you by pressing a hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, darlin!” he told you. “Please, let me take a photo of you!” He sounded so casual for asking something so filthy, you just couldn’t suppress a laugh.

“What, really?” You felt shy, but also kind of proud. The thought that he wanted to keep a memory of him marking you like that, felt strangely exciting.

You felt heat burning up your neck, but you nodded. Sy got up with a broad smile on his face and searched through his clothes that were spread all over the deck. He came back with his phone in his hand and pressed another small peck on your cheek before he leaned back and took some photos of you. You turned your head away, but Sy reassured you.

“You’re the most gorgeous thing ever, darlin! You can’t imagine what these pictures will do to me whenever I’m going to miss you.”

That made you laugh. You turned back to Sy, as he lay down beside you again. “I’m pretty sure I know what you will do with these pictures, Sy!” you told him, grinning. Sy mirrored your expression and winked. “The same thing as you did with my picture, sugar. We’re even now.”

You stirred on the lounger, slowly feeling more uncomfortable. You were still naked, it was getting colder and you still had Sy’s cum all over you.

“Sy...” you asked, “do I have to worry about the owner coming around the corner with a rifle or can we actually get into that cabin?”

Sy realized your struggle, and got up with a guilty grimace showing on his face.

“Stay, I’ll get you something to clean up.” he said. You admired his backside as he was wandering around on the pier in his birthday suit.

He grabbed his jacket and fished for some keys in its pocket. As he unlocked the door he turned to you, grinning. "My cousin owns the cabin, he knows we're here, so you should be safe."

A minute later, Sy came back with some towels in his arm and to your disappointment one wrapped around his waist. He sat down beside you and cleaned the reminiscents of his climax from your skin with a warm washcloth. Then he wrapped you up in a soft towel and kissed you softly.

Part 2

#something like that #syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x reader #bonfire series #my writing

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nyctophiliq · 4 months

Note

I need some more Jill Valentine smut in my life.

jill valentine playing with you and her knife !

since i’m barely able to push out some real length smut, here’s a little smutty knife play drabble with jill to sedate those demons inside- hope this is up to your standards nonnie !!!

cw; knife play, knife, mentions of blood, scarring, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering, office sex, sex on a desk, the knife is just a letter opener

stuck at the office, never the best way to spend a friday night but you still weren’t about to ditch work while your girlfriend was tied up in her office, probably forgetting how time has passed since your lunch together. so you scramble to put your things together and head down to jill’s office, planning your speech to get her to resume her work next week.

you open in, listening to the papers rustle on her desk as she flips through the files she’s working on. throwing your bag next to the chair in front of her desk, then taking a seat in said chair you start rambling about how you’re glad to be out of the office finally, going home, and thinking about picking some food up on your way home.

“don’t be foolish, come sit here.” jill pushed the files in front of her on the side, tapping the little space she made on her desk for you to sit down. you compiled, stepping behind your lover’s desk and settling down in front of her.

“you’ve been working all day and night, you should come home and rest.” you couldn’t look into her eyes as you told her your simple request of just wanting the two of you alone, afraid to see her eyes slowly narrow as she was about to tell you that she immense work to get done still. you missed her warmth next to you in bed and waking up to her sipping her morning tea at the end of the bed while zoning out.

the only answer you got was a calm chuckle and something cold pressing on the side of your thigh. you suspected it was her pen that she was scribbling away previously, but you quickly realized that the tip of this object was way too thin to be her pen.

jill smirked at your facial expression, getting up from her seat with her free hand and pushing your legs apart so she could stand between them. she pressed her front against yours, the object in her hand climbing up on the thin sleeve of your shirt over your arm.

the letter opener knife appeared in front of you, jill pressing it against her lips as she let out a devilish laugh. “you came here only to seduce me out of work behind those sweet words, hm? disturbing my work just for that, are you?”

your brain was drained from the ability to make sense, her voice, her eyes, the way that her lips moved against the knife all twisting your thoughts. “i- i don’t…” the tip of the blade touching your chin, pushing and forcing you to look at the officer and her darkened eyes.

she grinned, running the cold blade along your fabric-covered throat until it reached the fabric on your chest. “fascinating.” jill put the blade under the buttons of your uniform shirt, cutting them off one by one and pulling the layers apart.

jill placed the side of the metal piece on top of your breast, after pushing your long-sleeved shirt up your chest, sliding it carefully back and forth before dragging the tip to space in between your tits. the letter opener’s tip slowly dug into your skin, the blade quickly following it and drawing the tiniest amount of blood.

it was embarrassing how much it worked you up, only the sight of jill with the knife and her using it on you was just making you wet by the second. and she seemed to sense you were just as excited as she was when she popped the button off your pants, hooking the tip of the knife into the zipper and forcing it down.

“don’t make any sound, m’okay?”

you flinched at the gentle brush of her fingertips against your clit. “you’re making such a mess. how about we clean you up hm?” she cooed into your ear, the cold blade gliding on your skin upwards with a quick motion, the tip pushing the collar of your shirt from your throat and the edge sitting against the thin flesh of your throat.

your legs and sex twitched as she pushed two of her fingers inside you, the knife at your throat piercing your skin and another thin, long cut decorating your body. the pain coming from the shallow cut stung badly, but it only added to your pleasure.

in a matter of a few minutes, with her lips moving against yours, hungrily kissing you as her fingers torturously slowly move inside you. it’s making you crazy in so many ways, especially when her fingers slip out of you completely and end up hooking into the hem of your pants, struggling to pull them down while keeping the knife against your throat. so she discards the knife, but only for a few moments to rid you of your uniform’s bottoms and get on her knees, her head between your thighs.

“stay very still, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt sweetheart.” she murmurs against the top of your thighs before picking the knife back up and firmly pressing it against your thigh. you nod your head, fingers gripping the edge of the desk as jill’s tongue dives between your sticky lips and laps up all your excitement.

#📗 — written by moss !#resident evil x reader #resident evil x reader smut #resident evil smut #jill valentine x reader #jill valentine x female reader #jill valentine x reader smut #resident evil jill x reader #jill valentine smut #jill valentine x you #jill valentine x female reader smut

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 3 months

Note

hi em! been off the app lately cuz i've been lazy but i'm so glad i'm seeing u on my dash again <3 i can't express it properly but i missed you so so so much !! hope u can give us some sneak peaks of ur next work hihi (no rush maybe just some hints of what to expect)

Hello, nonnie! I'm glad to be on the dash again! YAY! I've missed being online and interacting with peeps, it was quiet but a bit lonely offline.

I've actually got a snippet here that is HIGHLY work-in-progress, doesn't quite slot into my story so far and might need to go through a couple edits/adjustments before finally being incorporated, but still. Hope you like the direction I'm taking it!

Trigger warnings: uncle-niece incest, medieval daddy kink, suggested (though not actual) quasi-Electra complex, psychological fuckery.

Yes, he thinks to himself, struck by your light-hearted praise, your simple joy. Your innocence, near cloying. I could be her ‘papa’.

He decides to test his theory one evening. The babes are with Rhaenyra; those insipid ladies of yours are abed or in the Sept or wherever-the-fuck; the servants have long since left after stoking the fires and turning down the bedsheets. There is no better time.

“Here.” After pressing a parcel into your hands, he waits as your brow furrows and a half smile pulls at your lips, as your fingers move to unearth the object inside, as your frown deepens while you examine what it is he has given you.

“What is it?” You pull the fabric wrappings away, fully revealing the cloth doll. For all the simplicity of its form, it is the finest specimen coin could buy—pale spun wool for hair, amethyst button eyes, silk embroidery, velvet gown. Your palm cups its head like you cup your babes’ heads. You glance up at him. “Oh. For Aelys?”

“No. For you.”

You had outgrown soft toys at a frightfully early age, preferring instead to cart about your small collection of dolls carved from wood and finely painted. He’s not entirely sure you ever possessed one of cloth.

You laugh, a sharp, strange sound, shaking your head. “I—I have no need for dolls, kepus. I am a woman grown, and a mother at that!”

He can hear the slow burgeoning of agitation in your voice, low as it is. Good. The corner of his mouth curves up. “A display of gratitude would suffice.”

“Gra—Is this some sort of game?” you ask. He cocks his head at the tone—the hostility. Curious. He’d barely done anything. You huff, rising from the bed and busying yourself by smoothing out your skirts, breaking eye contact. You stare over at the empty cradle. “I do not wish to play.”

“No game.” Daemon cannot help but notice that, for all your apparent ire, you still clutch the doll to you like it is something precious. “Call it… speculation, if you must.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Really, my girl. You’re far too vexed for a thing so trite. Perhaps I’ve struck upon a source of turmoil.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

You stubbornly refuse to look his way as he rises, his height outstripping yours easily. Barely perceptible is the subtle way your shoulders seem to shrink inward, protecting the vulnerable flesh of your throat as though he means to strike. He notices.

“Don’t you?” he asks. His fingers brush your jaw. When you jerk away, he moves instinctively to clamp your chin between thumb and finger, halting your churlish rebellion. “I’m not blind, you know—to your envy.”

Your nostrils flare despite your valiant attempts at composure. “Envy?”

Almost. You are truly angry now, he thinks. The ideal temperament to bait you into an admission. He lets his head fall, his nose skimming across your temple, featherlight. You shiver at his touch.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “Of your own children, no less. I see it. You desire the attention I give to them, is that it?” You react viscerally to that, but he is quicker; one hand presses you to his chest by the scruff of the neck and the other grabs just below your rear. It is enough to topple you into him. He hums as he seats himself back down upon the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap, his knee bouncing below you. “No. You desire the same attention. I’m their father—and where’s yours? Where he’s always been. Not here. Not for you. Never for you.”

Your indignant squirming ceases, and he hears the hitch in your breath before you deign to speak. “Stop it. Stop. That—that’s cruel.”

Ah, fuck. Too far. He changes course.

“Sh… I know, I know. I understand. Come.” He keeps his voice soft, the sharpest of daggers seeking the yielding flesh between ribs.

Gathering you close, head tucked under his chin, rump to thigh, his hand soothing between your shoulders, he says, “Papa’s here, sweetling.”

Your stomach feels as though it has dropped cleanly through your body, past your feet and into the ground.

Papa’s here, sweetling. Papa’s here, sweetling. Papa. Papa. Papa.

At first, you know not what to do. Scramble off and yell? Pretend you did not hear him? Dive for the sheets, block the world out? Your blood feels like ice in your veins. Your eyes prickle uncomfortably. You are frozen.

Daemon speaks again, palm like a brand through the thin layer of your shift. “There’s no shame in it. In wanting this.”

The urge to flee washes over you once more, building in your bones, threatening to spring you from his hold. “I—”

“Ah.” A sharp, barking vowel of remonstration, the sound a kennelmaster might use to bring his pack to heel.

The sound a father uses to correct a wilful child, your mind supplies unhelpfully.

“Besides,” he continues, casual in his cruelty, sweet poison on the tip of his tongue. And it is cruel, surely it is, it must be, surely it is the very worst, most horrible thing he has ever done, made you small, made you insignificant, made you wish for— “You don’t have a choice. Little girls are meant to abide by their papas, are they not?”

A small, churlish part of you rankles at his words, snapping your head up to glare before you can remember why it is you had been so steadfastly avoiding his stare. The indignation fades as you look upon him. In his eyes, you see what he does not say. A softening.

Tell me to stop, it says, and I will. Deny me if you must, but only if it is truly what you desire.

Almost without sanction, you shudder. You wilt, there is no other word for it, melting like ice in the sun, dripping, limbs trickling to water as you sink properly into Daemon’s waiting arms. They fold around you, over you like they had known to expect you here, like this.

Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. The room is bigger, or you are diminished, startlingly exposed, raw like burnt skin. Your lower lip wobbles.

“Papa,” you whisper, higher and more timorous than you have ever sounded. His arms tighten. You feel him nodding above you.

“That’s right,” he says, smooth in its devastation. Full of warmth, kindness, a muted sympathy. Poor little orphan child. Dead mother, father scarcely worth the name. All alone. It feels like an old wound, one that has never truly healed, something to live with but to never forget. “You’re mine. My babe, aren’t you?”

“But—but ‘m not.” A bizarre urge to beat your fists against his chest and wail washes over you. Regret? Resentment? Rage? You know not. “Rhaenar and—and Aelys—”

“Are mine—as you are mine.” Fingers and thumb pinch your jaw, drag it up. Daemon’s expression is set firm, tender but no less resolved. My word is your law, it says. “I have my heirs. I can have a sweet little girl, too.”

For a split second, you imagine what it might have been like if he had been your father instead—

(If it were Daemon, not Viserys, who had sired you. There would have been no septa to chastise your every failing. No threat of marriage to force your hand. Anything you had asked for—anything you desired—would be yours, scarcely a question asked. And, perhaps most damning of all, he would have given you every scrap, every iota of the attention, the care you have always felt so greedy in wanting. You would never have cause to wonder if your father loved you.)

—And, in that fleeting moment, you find yourself wishing that he had been. That he really was your papa, and not just your uncle, not just your husband. The thought makes your heart thud and your stomach lurch, your limbs acting on that swooping sensation to try and rise from his knee.

“That’s enough,” he says, dragging you back and turning your head into his neck, firm, unyielding, other hand coming down just a little too hard above your backside to be gentle. A warning. “You’re thinking too much. Sh.”

Still, you struggle. “I don’t—”

“You don’t need to think. Empty your head. Let Papa take over.”

It is like you needed permission for it before your body truly relaxes. The tears spill over your lashes, not sorrowful, no, but relieved. You let him adjust you how he likes—little girl, he says, you’re a little girl and it’s not your choice now—arm banding beneath your knees and oh, now you truly do feel little, small and young and yielding, tucked in as baby bird in a nest might be. Cradled like an infant in his grasp, it is warm and safe as it always is, but now that feeling you have never been able to reach out and name has its proper form.

I am just a babe. It slinks through your mind like a single thread in a tapestry, innocuous and necessary for the whole image to come together. I am just his babe now. Above you, Daemon voices much the same.

“That’s it… good girl…”

This is a VERY early draft for jorraeliarzus (beloved), the next instalment in my terms of endearment series. Please be aware that it might not make it into the final version without significant editing.

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x you #daemon x oc #daemon x you #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #got fanfiction #asoiaf fanfiction #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #terms of endearment │ daemon targaryen x reader

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peachsayshi · 9 months

Note

Heyaa peachieee

Are you gonna be continuing the brother's bff geto series ? I like it a lot can't wait to see what happens next 😩❤️

“whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same”

⊱ ─── [ ❦ ] ─── ⊰

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ older brother’s best friend geto x female reader ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬･tags: (part 1/part 2)tension; alcohol; reader is gojo's sister; reader has a big fat crush on geto; size difference; working on the next part just figuring out which direction to go ~

⥽ notes: nonnie! I'm glad you asked because I've had this simmer in my head since I wrote the last part. For those who asked, I will update my ex husband geto series next, and then inexperienced reader x geto <3

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You sway your hips to the beat of the song, the sparkling beads adorning your chest shimmer underneath dim lights. Champagne bubbles pop in your veins, orchestrating the arch and writhe of your sensual movements in the middle of the crowded room. You aren’t paying any attention to the unwanted stares zoning in on your group, too blissed out on the high of achieving another successful milestone in your life.

Graduation arrived faster than you expected. With the ceremony now just a couple of weeks away, you find yourself gifted with all the free time in the world, leaving behind the stress of your assignments and finals but you’re so happy to make it to the end of this long, winding road.

Your friend tugs you close to her chest, her sparkling dress matching your top and your other friend's skirt, and gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek. She’s singing loudly, her inebriated mind making her jumble up the lyrics in a cute manner. You sing along with her, trying to guide her as you hold her cheeks in the palm of your hands and heartily belt out the tune. Two hands then find your waist, and your other friend spins you back towards her to keep on dancing. You circle your arms around her neck, and playfully whine against her as the scent of alcohol and perfume filters the air around you. You don’t even know if your make up is still snatched or if the setting spray you had applied earlier has waned against the sweat misting off your body.

For whatever you don’t even care.

You’ve spent the last four months burying yourself deep into your work, and tonight is about rewarding yourself and living in the moment.

You wanted nothing more than to do just that.

“I’m going to get some water, would you like some?” you hoarsely speak into your friend’s ear, your throat constricting from the tension around your vocal chords.

“Yes, please! We’ll wait for you right here!”

You sashay through the sea of strangers, avoiding the eyes taking in your risqué outfit. You knew that your silver backless top would garner a lot of attention, the fabric only held together by two thin straps around your neck and lower back. However, you liked the change to your usual style of clothing, and looked fantastic on the flattering pair of black pants that you had on while matching perfectly with your platform heels.

Your ears buzz from the sensory imbalance when you leave the underground dance floor and walk upstairs to the bar with the hard thumping bass muffling as you are now surrounded by softer, upbeat tones.

The entire room is packed.

You've only been down for a couple of hours, but you're taken aback at how quickly the bar hit capacity. You shouldn’t be surprised after all, considering that this establishment is the latest hot spot in the city…

… and, of course you would spot him out of the crowd of people.

Suguru is leaning against the bar looking more formal than usual. He is wearing a button down white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and showing off his intricate tattoos underneath. He has on sleek tailored pants, the color mirroring the length of his hair dripping down his back like ink pressing into paper, and the front of his bangs are tied back to reveal that perfectly handsome face which had heads turning at every angle.

Alarm bells ring in the back of your mind, but thankfully you’re relieved to figure out that your brother, Satoru, isn’t around.

Suguru is hanging out with his other friends...the ones you don’t know very well and only met for the first time on the night of his twenty-eighth birthday.

There is a guy with bluish gray hair, who has pretty features and an interesting scar on his face, but upon recognizing him you immediately remember Utahime’s cautionary words to be mindful.

Then there is a second guy whose face isn’t one to forget due to all his piercings and how his hair is styled into two little space buns, and despite his somewhat dissociative expression, he looked like he could pass as Suguru’s brother.

The memory of the party flashes through your mind in between your stunned blinks.

That night was the last time you saw Suguru in person.

After your emotional reaction to watching him kiss somebody else, you thought that avoiding your crush might be the best solution to heal your wounded heart. The only contact you’ve had with Suguru since then has been via text, but even then you were trying your best not to linger in conversation with him.

You still have no idea who that woman was, and shudder at the possibility of Suguru potentially being romantically involved with somebody else.

Suddenly, dark eyes fall on yours and the room around you grows quiet. The music fades into the distance as bodies blur together like colors on an artist’s palette. The only person remaining still is the man before you, standing tall and prominent, with the environment glowing around him like a halo and reminding you that you are simply just a foolish girl who forgot to pull out cupid’s arrow.

You rip your eyes away immediately, the adrenaline forcing you to turn your heel and walk over to the other side of the bar where everything floods back in, where the booming chatter and loud song collides into your ribs and leaves you breathless.

Your heart starts racing - the bar area appears much smaller than it initially seemed when you first walked upstairs but you finally make it to the counter and rest both your elbows on the edge as a way to steady your feet.

You catch the bartender’s attention, who is busy pirouetting between jotting down orders and mixing drinks, while trying your best to ignore his piercing gaze barreling through from the opposite side of the counter.

“Can I get three bottles of water, please?” you speak loudly, having to repeat yourself just one more time to make sure that the bartender heard you.

You only have a couple of minutes of peace before your spine goes rigid. A shocking cold crawls up each vertebrae, and a tickling drip of water cascades down your back which is swiftly brushed away by a gentle graze of knuckles.

You glance over your shoulder to find him right behind you.

“S-Suguru…”

The space between your shoulder blades is burning from the icy contact, and the man sweetly smiles in your direction as he pulls away his cold beer from your back.

This is only testing your patience.

“I thought that it was you,” he says as he places his drink down onto the counter. “I almost didn’t recognize you for a minute…”

You part your lips to reply, but your words catch in your throat. You anxiously shift from one foot to the next, desperately mustering up a quick reason to excuse yourself, but a stranger from behind bumps right into your shoulder at that exact moment which causes you to lose your balance.

Suguru’s hand finds your waist immediately to steady you, his palm rests on the fabric of your top while his fingers catch your exposed flesh. Your skin tingles from his touch, making your cheeks burst with a warmth that has you feeling unusually hot.

The worst part is you feel like he can see how your body is betraying you in this way as his sharply pries you open bit by bit.

His gaze falls to your chest, and he arches his brow slightly when he glances over your outfit, a hint of a smile curling his lip before returning to face you.

“Now what would Satoru say if he saw you in this, hmmm?” he teases, his digits innocently pinching into your soft flesh.

“You’re not going to say anything to him, right?” you stammer immediately as you force the words right out of you.

The last thing you needed was a rant from your overprotective brother.

Suguru shakes his head, “of course not, what Satoru doesn’t know won’t hurt him, I’ll let you have your fun...”

You aren't quite sure if it's the way you can practically taste him on the tip of your tongue, or the lingering alcohol that makes the room around you spin, but statement makes your own eyes fall to his lips with the memory of the way he kissed you now swirling in your mind.

“Are you here alone?” he asks seriously, and as if he can read your thoughts, he slowly drops his hand by his side before taking another step forward to seal the gap of space to prevent causing traffic to the people walking back and forth behind him.

“I’m here with my friends,” you explain, feeling like a caged little bird trapped between him and the bar, “they are downstairs…”

“Three waters!” the bartender interrupts as he slides over the bill.

Suguru is quick to push back the check in the bartender’s direction, “put whatever she wants on my tab,” he announces, and the statement only makes you feel even more self conscious.

“You got it,” the bartender replies with a thumbs up.

Suguru assists in handing you the bottles of water, and you stammer over your words once more when you speak.“T-Thanks, but you really don’t have to do that...”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies with a wink, “it’s good seeing you. I’ll let you get back to your friends.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Your heart doesn’t stop spinning, and neither do you - so, you dull your senses with more drinks. You're not drunk enough to forget that the man you are infatuated with is hanging out just a floor above you, but you are nicely buzzed not to care about how the close proximity messes with your feelings.

Everything is a hazy blur until a few of the main lights start to flicker. The establishment is signaling their first warning that they will be closing soon and as the most sober(ish) person in your party, you take it upon yourself to lure your two friends back upstairs so you can all head home.

The three of you stumble out of the entrance. You’re holding onto your friend’s waist, while the other spins out in the middle of the sidewalk like the music never left her feet.

“Where to next?” she squeals a bit too loudly, and you sassily pull out your phone to show her the Uber application.

“Back home,” you reply, and she pouts like a child whose toy has just been snatched away.

“Boring,” your other friend mumbles, the weight of her body falling onto your shoulder and you almost collapse as you try to keep her upright.

You furrow your brows to check for the quickest pick up, but the earliest ride you can find is fifteen minutes away.

“Need a lift?”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, an echo reverberating around your ribcage and reaching all the way to the tip of your fingers. You swallow the tiny lump in your throat as you raise away from the blue light to put a face to that very familiar voice.

“Whose this?” your first friend mumbles, while the other stares at Suguru keenly with her mouth slightly agape.

“My brother’s best friend,” you mutter awkwardly before proceeding to decline his offer, “it’s alright, the Uber should be here soon.”

“And my car is parked just up the street,” he reassures calmly as he tilts his chin towards the direction of his vehicle before sliding both hands in his pocket. “You don’t have to worry, I just had the one beer earlier when I saw you but I haven’t been drinking…”

“Say yes, he’s really cute…” your friend with interested eyes that have not left Suguru’s, whispers quietly into your ear.

“I can’t help but agree with her,” Suguru smartly replies with a shrug, and that easy smile which makes his face glow as your friend giggles like a teenager.

You can’t help but shoot her a frustrated glare.

“I don’t want to intrude on your evening…”

Suguru huffs out a laugh, finding it cute that you are adamant on getting your way, before refuting that “it is not an intrusion at all, besides, Satoru would kill me if he knew that I just left you behind..."

Grinning thoughtfully in your direction, he made his final plea.

"Just cancel the ride. I’ll get you girls home in no time…”

You do as you're told because you’re too exhausted to protest otherwise.

The three of you follow Suguru to his car. He's a gentleman holding the backseat door open for your two friends, extending his hand out as he helps each of them climb inside. You can see how easily besotted they were by this act, but it only makes your chest tighten with envy.

You almost follow suit but hesitate when Suguru steps in the way.

“Want to sit up front?”

You can feel your worn, drained heart climb up from out of your throat and grip your face with its weak hands to beg you to decline. You should be trying to shield yourself from him, but how are you expected to resist with that kind of softness oozing from his soulful irises?

No wonder he gets so much attention, you think, convinced that he’s somehow cracked the code on how to hypnotize the most vulnerable of hearts with a single look.

You nip at the inside of your cheek anxiously but mindlessly nod yes in agreement.

Suguru shuts the door to the backseat.

You settle yourself in the front seat of his car breathing in the scent of sage with a hint of tobacco and shiver at the memory of how close you were when inhaled this scent last while his body was on top of yours.

The car itself is clean overall, but Suguru has always been meticulous about keeping everything in its place, unlike your brother who lived in a world of organized chaos. Sometimes you can’t help but compare the two of them, like you're trying to understand the details of how they complete one another while still being total opposites.

Your eyes fall to the decorative piece hanging from the front view mirror where you see a tiny polaroid framed within a wonky design.

There’s Suguru, who looks about your age, with the brightest grin on his face and whiskers painted on his cheeks. He is wearing black cat ears to match his two younger step-sisters, Mimiko and Nanako, who are also in the picture and are happily snuggled up in his arms.

“The girls made it for me,” he says, his voice low enough for just you to hear.

“Gosh, they look so young…”

“About four years old. This was a year after my mom got remarried…”

You flash him a smile, trying your best to ignore the way your body is currently simmering over such casual conversation. “It’s a really cute photo, Sugu”

He quirks his brow with amusement, a tender expression masking his face. "I'll show you the rest of them some other time…"

You subconsciously clench your thighs together, startled by the idea of you and your crush cozying up on a sofa while he shows you memories to the pieces of his life that you rarely ever get to see.

Despite your heart beating just a bit faster at the thought, your mind immediatelninterjects as a cautious reminder not to read into the situation.

Suguru fastens his seat belt, and quickly peaks over his shoulder to check on your two friends.

“Are you girls comfortable?”

“Yes, we are! Thanks again for the ride, uhm…erm…brother’s friend, uh…” one of you friends mumbles in an attempt to fish out his name.

“Suguru,” he politely replies then turns on the ignition.

“Thanks for the ride, Su-gu-ruu!” she repeats with exaggeration but for whatever reason it only feeds into your embarrassment.

“Hey, isn’t that…” your other friend intervenes innocently as she arches forward to rest her chin on your chair. “Isn’t that also the name of the guy you have a crush on?”

The weight of the world descends upon you the . Your body gradually shrinks in size, and you can feel yourself growing smaller and smaller as the seconds pass in silence.The slip of her tongue makes your eyes widen, and you ball your hands up into tight fists to form crescents in your palms as you anxiously clench your jaw.

Suguru’s face perks up instantly, and his movements slow down as one hand shifts to find the wheel while the other puts the car in reverse.

The air feels far too light, making it impossible for you to breathe. You know he heard that question, loud and clear, but you’re too mortified to even look at those magnetizing eyes. You can feel the heat of his stare unravel you, but you swiftly spin your head to face the busy streets and blurry lights just outside your window.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

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