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buckyalpine · 6 months

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TW: drugging, sa, Bucky x protective reader

I’m in a whumpy angsty mood where I want everyone, I mean EVERYONE to be protective and caring over Bucky, taking care of him and making sure he’s okay.

TW: Sexual assault (not reader), drugging

Bucky takes a sip of his drink and immediately knows something isn’t right. He doesn’t get drunk, he can’t. So why did his entire body suddenly feel lax and his vision hazy. He blinks a few times, trying to focus but it only makes everything worse, his skin feeling warm.

“Doll?” He tries to get up and look for you, only to stumble as he gets out of the chair. The rest of what happens in a blur when a pair of soft hands help steady him.

“Has anyone seen Bucky?” You come around to the lounge area in search of your favorite super soldier, surprised when he wasn’t sitting with the rest of the team either.

“Thought he was with you” Steve looked confused while Sam smirked; everyone knew the way Bucky trailed behind you like a lost puppy, so it was strange that you of all people, didn’t know where he was...

“Last I saw him was....he’s gone” Nat frowned, seeing the bar stool not only empty but also knocked over.

“Where could he be” You scanned the room once more, feeling uneasy when you still couldn't find him. “Let me go check his room” You decided to make your way up to the elevator while Nat followed just to be safe, the both of you surprised to see the door slightly ajar.

“No”

The muffled sound coming from his room made your heart race faster, his strained voice barely audible.

“Please, no”

You saw red, striding over to his room, bursting through the door, gasping when you saw a woman straddled on top of him, her hands working at the buttons of his shirt. Her eyes grew wide, yelping when you ripped her off him, throwing her to the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You spat, punching her across the jaw, your knuckles connecting with her teeth causing your skin to split while she cried out.

“Well-well he wanted me too!” The woman spat causing another surge of anger to flow through you, lunging for her again.

You were ready to tear her to shreds but a soft whimper pulled you out of your rage. You turned to see Bucky’s tear streaked face, waiting for you to hold him. Nat nodded for you to go to him, grabbing he woman by the hair, covering her mouth from screaming too much, not wanting to stress Bucky more.

“Don’t make a sound” Nat hissed in her ear, pinching a nerve to keep her still while calling for he rest of the team to come up.

“Doll” Bucky clung onto you like a small child, still struggling to understand what was going on, all he knew was that he was safe again when you protecting him.

“Bucky, I’m here baby, it’s okay, I got you” you cooed, holding him tightly, covering him with the sheets, your heart breaking over his vulnerable state. He shook his head in confusion, while you stroked soft circles on his back to calm him.

“Is he okay?” Nat tightened her grip around the woman while you blinked back tears, soothing Bucky.

“What the hells going on” Tony frowned, approaching the room with Steve and Sam in tow after seeing Nat’s text message.

“She drugged him. Tried to have her way with him” Nat snarled while Steve’s jaw clenched at the sight of he woman who nearly rolled her eyes while his best friend was in distress. He held back from doing something he'd regret, mumbling something to Nat before coming over to Bucky. Bucky stayed hidden in your comfort, whining whenever you shifted, terrified you’d leave him, needing you more than ever.

“Stay with me?” He pleaded softly, still feeling so out of control, his head spinning, the touch of the other woman still burning his skin. “Don’t want her, want you”

“I know baby, it’s me, don’t worry, not going anywhere” you whispered, kissing his forehead as he relaxed slightly, closing his eyes. “Stay awake for me though Bucky, alright? I need you to stay up”

“But m’so tired” Bucky slurred, his eyes growing heavy once again, your hand gently patting his cheek to keep him from sleeping.

“I know baby” You continued to rock him while he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“You’re gonna kick her ass for all of us, right?” Sam whispered to Nat, the redhead silently nodding, already planning on ripping the woman apart as she dragged her away.

“Buck, you alright?” Steve spoke softly, his eyes filling with tears at the small nod Bucky mustered. Sam joined his side, gently squeezing Bucky’s shoulder.

“We’re here for you, okay? Just stay awake for us Buck”

Bucky let out a muffled hum, his body still running hotter than usual, making it harder for him to stay awake.

“Sam, get him some water please” You whispered while he nodded, running off to grab some, coming back seconds later. You brought the glass to his lips, helping him drink before setting it aside. “Baby, can I take this off? I’ll help you feel better” Bucky let you take off the rest of his shirt, everyone leaving the room so you could help him with the rest of his clothes, covering him back up in your arms once he was just in his briefs.

Tony brought over his suit to run a quick rest over the drugs that were now in his system using a needle to get a sample of blood to scan.

“Its okay, it’ll be quick terminator, I promise” Tony whispered, doing his best to only take a tiny amount not stressing him more, so he could get an immediate reading on what Bucky had been given, breathing a sigh of relief when it wasn’t anything that would cause major harm or damage. “Standard narcotics. Just a fuck ton though. It’ll be out of his system without an issue but stay with him”

You nodded, carefully monitoring Bucky until he was less groggy and disoriented, the both of you still wrapped up in the sheets. He blinked at the sight of your slightly bloodied hand, kissing your palm before pressing it against his cheek.

“Are you okay baby” you whispered against his hair while he continued to nuzzle into you, not wanting to leave your warmth.

“You protected me” He whispered, burying himself further into your hold, finally being able to fall asleep now that enough time had passed. “My angel”

“I’ll always protect you my love” you whispered, holding him tighter as he closed his eyes, “Always”

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navybrat817 · 2 months

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Anything special for Bucky's birthday?

Something small, nonnie.

For Years or for Hours

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky is the love of your life and deserves to have a peaceful birthday.

Word Count: Almost 1.2k

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, implied explicit sexual content, being in love, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I wanted to do something more, but today got away from me. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The sun had just risen outside of Bucky’s hut in Wakanda, the rays peeking in and beckoning you to wake up and venture out into the world. You weren't ready to rise and meet the day quite yet. Not when Bucky was beside you, holding you in his sleep like you he’d lose you if he loosened his grip. You wouldn't dare disturb his slumber. Not when he more than anyone deserved to rest peacefully.

So you decided to count the freckles on his nose.

“My beautiful man,” you whispered, placing your left hand on his cheek. “Love of my life.”

The wedding band on your ring finger matched his in design, symbols of the never ending love you had for each other. Time stood still and moved all at once when you said “I do”, but forever didn’t start with your wedding day. It began the day you met. Every moment after that paved a path that entwined, neither of you having to walk alone again.

“One,” you whispered, kissing a freckle on the tip of his nose. You’d never get over the sight of him. “Two…”

You didn’t know Bucky had freckles until he was in your face during a training session, the definition of up close and personal. It was right before you shared your first kiss, which was ages ago and felt like yesterday. He rolled on top of you and pinned your arms above your head, his breathing heavy and eyes stormy as you gazed up at him. Instead of trying to break free of his strong hold, you went lax underneath him and smiled.

“Are you yielding?” He asked, releasing one of your wrists when you made no attempt to move.

“Wow. You have freckles,” you exhaled, brushing his soft brown hair back that fell in his eyes. “I never noticed them before.”

It was as if Bucky removed an invisible mask and allowed you to see his true self for the first time before he pressed his lips to yours. It sparked a flame inside of you that no one could ever put out. And if being in love with him taught you anything, it was that masks hid your true selves and built walls to keep others out. You helped each other knock them down.

He was your partner in every sense of the word.

“Mmm. Tickles,” he mumbled as you kept kissing his nose, his voice throaty and low as he opened his eyes. His broad torso rolled as he arched his back and you had to suppress a shiver when he groaned. “Were you counting my freckles again?”

“You caught me,” you whispered, pecking his nose once more and not embarrassed in the slightest. “I can’t help it. You’re so pretty.”

Amusement filled his eyes as he slid a palm down your ribs to your hip. “I thought you were the pretty one in this relationship, Mrs. Barnes.”

Your cheeks warmed at the reminder that you were his wife. “We can both be pretty, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, tilting your head back so he could brush his scruff against your neck. You joked once that people called him the White Wolf because he liked to “scent” and leave his mark on you. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

“Why should I go back to sleep, hmm?” He asked, placing an open-mouthed kiss over your racing pulse. It was enough to make you whimper when you tried to find your words. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You menace,” you moaned, tugging on his hair for good measure, which only made him let out that lustful groan you loved. “Because it’s your birthday and you deserve to sleep in, old man.”

His first birthday as a married man.

“And we won't say how old I am today,” he said, his hair falling in his eyes as he pulled back and smirked. “And I was kind of hoping I'd wake up with my cock in your mouth.”

“Bucky,” you breathed out, fighting the urge to laugh at his admission as the tingle between your thighs grew. Whatever thought was in your mind went away. It didn't matter. All you could imagine were his eyes staring down at you in wonder and ecstasy as you took him in your throat. “You know what? Fine. Your wish is my command.”

You’d please him with whichever hole he wanted to use.

“But I’m awake,” he teased, chuckling when you silenced him with your lips. He didn't let you pull away, feeling as if the hut tilted on its axis as he deepened the kiss you started. It was like your first kiss all over again. The promise of something more.

A lifetime together.

“Pretend you're asleep,” you suggested when you grudgingly pulled away from his sinful lips. “But if Steve and Sam ask, we woke up to watch the sun rise.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed when you smiled, your heart rate picking up. “Don't talk about those punks when you're about to go down on me,” he half growled.

“Yes, White Wolf,” you teased. They would no doubt message him birthday wishes, along with Natasha and a few others, once they were awake. He deserved all the love today and every day.

Before you could kiss down Bucky's body, he stopped you with a gentle grip. “Wait,” he whispered, his eyes searching your face. You didn't know a gaze could be so soft until he looked upon you. This was a man who knew your hopes, dreams, fears.

And loved you all the while.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked when he reached for your left hand.

“I just love you so much, doll,” he said, running his thumb over the ring as your eyes filled with tears. You blinked them away quickly enough to catch his tender smile. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

When you got home, you’d celebrate his special day in regular fashion. You’d take him to the new science exhibit that he mentioned wanting to see. The two of you would cuddle up to watch his favorite movie after dinner with the gang. He’d eat the cake you baked just for him. And there would be a present or two for him to open before you went to bed.

But the gift he wanted most was to have a day without a reminder of the fight. Where he could breathe in the air, take in the quiet, and feel a sense of peace with the person he loved beside him. You knew the only way to give him that was to get him out of the city and back to his hut. Even if it was only for a short time.

In his sanctuary, he’d find tranquility on his special day and you’d show him how much you loved him. Memories the two of you would carry for a lifetime. Because he gave you the world by asking you to be his and you’d spend forever making him happy. Just like he deserved.

“I love you, too, Bucky Barnes,” you promised, kissing the freckle again on the tip of his nose. “Happy birthday.”

Oh, Bucky. We love him. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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luveline · 8 months

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Ik ik you have written this with other characters but I would love to see hotch and giggly gf where he’s trying to initiate sex but she keeps giggling and laughing

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

cw suggestive theme mdni

Hotch isn't hesitant about touching you. Your lips moving slowly under his, he palms down your soft stomach to your waistband, only breaking the kiss to meet your eyes.

"I think you're trying to suffocate me," you say, breathless and laughing, your fingertips at the back of his head and pushing upward. You rake your hand through his hair, sending chills to all manner of places.

"Why would I do that?" he asks, pinky finger sliding beneath your waistband as he roves to your hip. He gives the fat there a squeeze. "I like you too much to kill you off."

You're lax beneath his weight and touching. "It's hot in here, Hotchner. Help me take my shirt off."

He's sure you're asking because you genuinely want his help, and not for the salacious activities he's trying to initiate. Regardless, he peels you out of your shirt and ducks down to kiss your naked skin. You squeal, asking, "When was the last time you shaved? You're scratching me."

"You sound like you like it," he says, pressing an open-mouthed kiss hot to the skin below your bra.

"Of course I like it," you say, your hand again falling into his hair. You smooth it from his forehead and look down at him with altogether too much love.

He sits up. Unabashed, he cups your breast through your bra. His fingers to one side of the curve, his thumb flat to the centre of your sternum, he laughs at you laughing. "Is it too much?" he asks.

Your smile is giddy and lazy and beautiful. "Too much for what? I've kissed you with worse."

"A little more than kissing," he says, his hand following the slopes of your body to again harass your waistband.

"Do you remember how much I laughed when you came back from Pakistan? You tried to kiss me and–"

"You could barely look at me. I remember, honey."

"It wasn't like that!" Your laughter shakes you. He can feel it in both hands. "Sorry, it just surprised me! You're the one who insisted on voice calls only, how was I supposed to react?"

Hotch loves to listen to you laugh. Giving up on his seduction, he rests his stubbly cheek on your abdomen and kisses lazy half-kisses from the bottom of your ribcage upward. "You said you liked it."

"I did like it. But even if I didn't like it, it's not like you can say you don't like it when your boyfriend does stuff like that. You could've just found another woman who liked it to replace me."

He speaks straight into your skin, words muffled. "I don't want another woman. I want you. That's why I shaved it off."

"I missed some of that."

"I said," he repeats, lifting his head, making sure to scratch you with his stubble as he goes, "I don't want another woman–"

Your guilty eyes give you away. You heard him the first time. Hotch does some giggling of his own and wraps his arms behind your back to get comfortable for whatever lovey dovey mood it is you've found yourself knee deep in. You squirm a little.

"What?" he asks. He knows when you have something to say.

"I thought you were, you know… I thought you were kissing me."

"Oh, so you were paying attention."

You bite your lip. Hotch grins —okay, yes, he was more than content to spend the night languishing half-clothed, but he wants worse to collect your wrists above your head and press them down into the pillows, feel your leg shake where it fails to cling to his waist.

"I love your laugh, honey," he murmurs, starting the long journey back to your lips. He places soft kisses like stepping stones until he's just below your jaw. "But I like this more."

"What more?" you ask.

He leans in to kiss you, the pressure of his lips on yours enough to split the seam of them. Your breath catches as he eases your pants down your hip, thumb digging into your skin as he goes.

"This," he says softly, adoringly. "Can I help you take these off?"

You don't need his help, apparently. You wiggle out of your pants before Hotch has time to blink, kicking them down the bed, quashing a self-satisfied laugh with his lips as you pull him down by the neck to kiss you again.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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writella · 9 months

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Hi! @sinsandsweetness mentioned you when I had requested something from them. Theirs was just so wonderful and needed that day.

I was wondering if you would be comfortable doing a variation of that idea. Daryl x fem!reader, gentle smut while reader needs some comfort and closeness. I understand if you wouldn’t want to.

Thank you so much.

Hi! ♡ Sure :) I can do that. Perhaps I can use it as an exercise for myself to write something shorter. I think this came out a little more fluffy than maybe you might have wanted but I still added in everything! Let me know what you think! And thank you so much for being my first anon and first request- this was so exciting for me!

Also, for any other readers, I ended up not needing to use pronouns so you can consider this afab!reader, but you can still picture it as a fem!reader, anon, it still works both ways. ♡

This includes some smut, soft!Daryl, both reader and Daryl feeling down, and both of them expressing their care for one another.

Your bedroom window is always three inches open. You knew Daryl could get through without the help, but him coming into your room at night had become a recognized habit, so you decided it was best to do it anyway. It was a sign that he was welcomed, that he didn’t always have to sneak in for whatever reason he did. You would have always let him in. He should have known that.

You didn’t question it though, talking about your feelings to him wasn’t your strong suit either. Especially not tonight when the light breeze blowing from your window touched the tears rolling down your cheek, making them chill.

You turned from it, just in case Daryl decided to come that night. You didn’t want to worry him or seem like a child. Bad things happen everyday in this world. You don’t see anyone else at camp crying all the time. Yet there you were, finding it hard to shake these feelings for the third night in a row.

You heard the sliding of the glass now, Daryl’s finger pressing up on the window to make it wider. He held the sides and put his legs through first. Normally this would have been seamless and silent, but Daryl was getting comfortable with this routine, becoming more lax with his stealth in this case.

You wiped your tears quietly, your hand movements very slow, not daring to move too far to the sides just in case he saw your fingers. You hoped he would just think you’re awake but not crying.

“You up?” He asks, his voice is a whisper, but nonetheless you hear his ever present rasp.

“Yes,”

He takes off his shoes, and his pants, and his vest, hanging it on the hooks of the back of your door. He sits on your bed then, just on the corner, his hands on his knees, motionless.

You look up at him, trying your best to make your inhale not sound like a sniffle. “Daryl?”

“Hm,”

“Are you okay?”

“Are you?” It’s a retort, but he says it just as genuinely and softly as you asked. “Why were you crying?”

You’re silent for a minute. Why is it as if you have all the words when you are alone, but the second someone is around, the second that someone shows they care, you are wordless? Your mind is so heavy, the thoughts spiraling, but your mouth is completely empty and dry. Speaking becomes impossible now. “I don’t know,” is all you can say.

You come up to him and sit beside him. He only looks at you quickly through the corners of his eyes, but keeps his head down, his hair in his face.

You hold his opposite shoulder and his leg and move your head into the crux of his neck, closing your eyes. Your hand then moves to his cheek, gently brushing up and down, feeling the bristles of his facial hair. It makes him lean into you.

Finally, his head turns to your face, your hand still resting at the side of his. Your thumb brushes over his sad eyes and his lips and he wipes your slow coming tears.

He kisses your nose, rubbing his into yours, until he starts to kiss your lips. His hand comes to your jaw and neck as he deepens it, laying you on the bed. The two of you move upwards until you reach your pillow again.

He delicately takes off your shirt, and pants, and underwear and you try to help him do the same.

He lays on you now and you hold his head and neck. His hands are at your hips as he slowly presses down on you, moving. You press up into him. He kisses your neck, peppering it lightly.

Afterwards, he pushes himself inside of you and moves only a little until his motions stop. His arms and body wrapping around you in totality. Your arms try their best to reach everywhere on his back, your movements so slow, delicate, and tender. You untangle pieces of his hair softly. He is inside of you, but truly you are hugging, embracing each other with love.

As a moment passes you finally whisper, “It’s so hard to pretend everything is okay all the time.”

You’re on the verge of tears again as you admit it. “There are things about the past that I don’t want back, ever, but some days I just really wish we didn’t have to fight… sometimes I just get so tired… sometimes I think I would-”

A scary thought comes that you decide not to share.

Daryl looks at you now, holding your head. It’s almost as if his hands are just that big as he holds both sides. You feel the warmth radiating off of them to your cheeks and your ears. He puts his forehead against yours, sending all his love through to you. “We don’t gotta pretend in here.”

He kisses your lips again, it’s sweet and light. You’ve never felt him do it like this before.

He begins to truly move inside you now. Your arms wrap around his middle back, it’s like you’re still hugging until he takes your hands in his, resting them parallel to your head as he holds on and he pumps just a bit faster, creating a deep and steady rhythm.

His head is curled into your neck as you sigh into him, his body making you feel a release from your worries. It causes him to meet your eyes again but they are closed. He kisses you once more, ‘I love you,’ his lips are truly saying as they melt into you, ‘It’ll be okay. I’ll make it okay. Just for you.’

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #twd fanfiction #twd smut #afab reader #daryl dixon x afab!reader #💌 ask answered 💌#anons ♡#wonders with writella #wonderings with daryl

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mostlymaudlin · 1 year

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would you still love me if i was a worm?

ive always wanted to manufacture a situation where andrew gets to ask neil this bc i just think he deserves to be a ridiculous bf who seeks validation in silly, petty ways <3 and i think I’ve finally got something — it’s def silly but that’s the point lmfao

Andrew wakes when Neil gets up to pee.

“Sorry,” Neil whispers, brushing his knuckles against the back of Andrew’s hand as he slips out of their bed.

Andrew doesn’t bother trying to fall back asleep immediately. He’ll just wake up again when Neil returns. Instead, he pulls his phone from under the pillow and scrolls through iFunny, staring blearily at memes that do not live up to the app’s name and fighting sleep.

By the time Neil gets back, Andrew has lost the ability to move his heavy thumb, his eyes drooping as he stares at a pixelated screenshot of a screenshot of a Tweet posted to Facebook. Neil takes the phone out of his lax grip, turning off the screen and shoving it back under the pillows.

“Go to sleep,” Neil whispers. Andrew opens one eye to glare at him. He would still be sleeping if Neil hadn’t chugged a whole can of seltzer water right before bed and damned them both. Unfortunately for Andrew, the act of looking at Neil in his rumpled, tired state only makes his chest go tight in that angry, riotous way that only Neil can inspire in him. He shifts closer to Neil, pushing at his shoulder until Neil gets the message and rolls onto his side. Andrew presses up against Neil’s back, shoving his face into his bedhead and inhaling deeply. One arm wraps tightly around Neil’s waist, the other wiggles underneath the pillow they now share. Andrew throws a knee over Neil’s thigh for good measure. Neil sighs happily, resting his palm over the back of Andrew’s hand where it rests on his chest.

The lure of sleep threatens to pull him back under, but the meme he’d been staring at is still burned into the backs of his eyelids.

“Hey,” Andrew murmurs into Neil’s hair. Neil hums in acknowledgment. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Neil stiffens for a second, and it takes a beat for Andrew to register that they don’t really use that word. They talked about it once, a few years ago. Neither of them have anything against it, but agreed it felt shallow. Andrew thinks the word sometimes, when his brain is too lazy to be specific about what exactly Neil stirs in him. It doesn’t really matter. It’s just a word. He presses a kiss to Neil’s shoulder, and Neil relaxes immediately.

“I don’t know,” Neil says. “Why would you be a worm? How would I even know who you were?”

“You’re supposed to say yes,” Andrew says, squeezing in reprimand. “That your feelings for me transcend species.”

“Okay, well, mine don’t,” Neil says. “Worms are gross.”

In a flash of irritation, Andrew releases Neil and rolls back to his own side of the bed.

“Andrew,” Neil says, sitting up. “You can’t seriously be upset about this.”

“I can do whatever I want,” Andrew says.

“I mean, yeah,” Neil says, interrupted by a yawn. “But you’re not a worm. And I do love you.”

Andrew wrinkles his nose, flopping onto his back. “That’s gross.”

Neil huffs. He reaches a hand toward Andrew, waiting for Andrew to roll his eyes and nod before running his fingers through Andrew’s hair.

“It’s true,” Neil says. “And also based on reality.”

“Whatever,” Andrew says, he catches Neil’s wrist and tugs. “Come here.”

They resume their earlier position. When they finally settle, the slow, steady rhythm of Neil’s chest rising and falling has Andrew’s consciousness slipping. He jolts a bit when Neil speaks again.

“Would you love me if I was a worm?”

“Yes,” Andrew says, even though Neil is so annoying that Andrew should squeeze him until he pops.

“What would that even look like?” Neil asks. “Would you kiss my worm body?”

“I’d put you in a little worm enclosure,” Andrew murmurs, eyes closed. “I’d get you good worm food and toys, and keep you in a room where you could see Exy games on TV.“

“Oh,” Neil says. “That’s really nice, actually.”

“Mmhmmm.”

“I’d do that too,” Neil says, yawning again. “But different. I’ll think about it more tomorrow.”

Andrew doesn’t really care anymore. He’s warm, and he’s human, he’s holding a warm and human Neil. Sleep finally pulls him back under.

#my writing #shdjfjdjfjf I’ve been trying to do something w this for so long y’all have no idea 🤣#aftg #aftg fic #flash #Andreil

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spidybaby · 7 months

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Okok but hear me out, it's okay if you don't wanna do it, I just keep thinking of this scenario😭 Reader helping Pedri shave even if she loves his beard and now that he's injured, he's growing it and one day she notices and it's like "Ok, let's do some shaving" and he's like "No, you like it and I'm not playing, the beard is staying"

"I hopped off the plane at LAX with a dream and my cardigan." You sing using the hair brush as a microphone. "Welcome to the land of fame excess"

"Woah" Pedri shouts as he walks into the bathroom. "Am I gonna fit in?"

He was helping you with your routine

You both laugh but continue with the singing, changing to a Quevedo song.

"Dale caele uh uh uhhhh," you point at him, he blush at the thought of the World Cup and the video of him singing this song. "Dance with me."

You play a bachata song, grabbing his hands and pulling him to be closer. One hand on your waist and the other intertwine with yours.

"Te diría que volvieras pero eso no se pide." He sings while moving his hips at the rhythm of the song.

You dance in the middle of the bathroom. Laughing and enjoying each others company, something you loved about him. Every moment was like the first time.

"Okay, let's finish here so we can see that movie you like." He kisses your cheek, breathing your smell.

"Can I help with your skin care?"

"Only if we match headbands."

You laugh, nodding your head. You open the drawer where you have some hair bands, clippers, bobbypins.

You grab two blue headbands, the same ones you got with the purpose of him using it while leaning how to do his skincare.

"Okay, come here." You place the headband on his head, making sure to place it right so his now dry hair doesn't get wet again. "Pepi, not to be a hater, you know I love your beard, but I think you need to shave."

You squish his cheeks, kissing his now ducky lips.

"Oh please, mom says it looks good." He pouts, bringing his hands to his face. "Plus, I'm not playing, so it's not like I have to forcefully shave it."

"And it does look good, you look amazing."

He notices how you want to say something else but you stopped.

"But?"

"But you're letting it grow a little too much."

He turns to the mirror, hands patting his cheeks, trying to make it less crazy.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, mi amor." You massage his shoulders, kissing the nape of his neck. "You know you look amazing with every look you pull."

But he's not convinced. Now that you mention he did, in fact, let it grow a little more than usual.

"Pedro?" You ask after he stared at himself for a good five minutes. "Sorry if I made you feel bad, I didn't mean that."

But it wasn't about that. It was about him maybe being to attach to this look. It makes him look older, and to him, that's good.

Being in a job where most of your workmates are older or with stronger looks makes him feel some type of way. Being young is good, but not when the ultras decide to comment on how of a kid he resemble.

"Do me a favor."

"Yes, whatever you need."

"Come here." He opened his arms to you, embracing you and making you turn to the counter of the double sink.

He kisses your head, getting out of the hug but not letting you go. His hands on your hips, lifting you carefully, making you take a seat on the counter.

"You, preciosa." He taps your nose. "Are going to be my barber today."

He prepares everything, taking a new razor, some shaving cream, and his after shave lotion.

You watch him move around the bathroom. Still feeling a little bad about the comment, not thinking it will make him feel some type of negative way.

"You didn't do anything wrong, stop with those puppy eyes, amor." He says, placing the things next to you.

"You really don't have to. I love your beard so much."

"A new look never fails, plus this baby will grow back in a few days, so don't worry." He leans over to kiss you. "Now, grab some shaving cream and apply it to my face."

You let him guide you through it, carefully smearing the cream on him. Laughing at him, looking weird.

"Pedro." You laugh, he kissed you and left some cream on you face. "Stop it, let's be serious."

"Okay, now pay attention." He says, tapping the back of the razor on your head. "Don't press it too hard, like when you shave. And don't worry about timing, we have all night."

You nod, nervous about the job. He wet the blades and handed you the razor. You think where to start and decide that you're using the same logic that you use when saving.

So you begin with his left cheek. Hand shaking a little, and tongue out in concentration.

"Ouch." He screams, backing off and turning his back to you.

"Joder. Pedro, I'm so sorry." You were panicking, thinking you were being gentle.

He turns back to you, laughing. You grab the hand towel you have on your lap and throw it at him.

"Not funny." You pout.

"You should have seen your face." He laughs, forehead sticked to yours. "Such an easy target."

"Quit it." You warn him with a smile. You push him by the shoulders. Opening the water and wetting the blade again.

After some time and some light jokes, you finished the job. You turned on your seat to the mirror, where he was retouching some areas you were scared of doing.

You helped him with taking every extra of cream. Adding some after shave lotion, carefully patting his skin to finish with the job.

"God, you look so fresh and handsome."

"I'll give you two days before you start asking me to let it grow."

You laugh, splashing some water from your wet hands onto his face. "I love every look."

"Thanks for the help, missis Barber." He jokes, arms around you, chin on top of your head.

"Same time next week?"

"Yeah, fuck no." He says, making you both laugh.

♡♡♡

🏷: Miss @gadriezmannsgirl 💕🤭

264 notes · View notes

ohbo-ohno · 7 months

Note

the little pavlov of it omggg

Love the idea where you develop a sort of pavlov response to whenever Simon places you in Johnnys cage— more specifically when he chucks a blanket over it making it dark. You’re left in there for hours, sometimes longer, and any initial fear that you felt beforehand slowly fades into some semblance of calm. (It helps that Simon and Johnny don’t interact with you during this, although Simon definitely has to scold Johnny more than once to get him to listen.)

It’s not immediate, but over time your brain is eventually like: ‘Oh— okay, it’s dark. Time to calm down and chill the fuck out now.’ Simon has an inkling but nothing that confirms his suspicions yet.

Maybe one day something happens and you’re just too worked up to listen to Johnnys reasoning or Simons warnings. You end up on the bed with your back to Simons chest, his legs caging yours so that you can’t kick, one hand holding both your wrists and the other covering your eyes. Johnnys between you, trying to get you to calm down.

“—overwhelmed aren’t you lass? Just need to get it out of your system—“

And eventually, overwhelmed, you break down and just go lax in Simons grip. Johnny crowds closer, cooing at you.

“There you go Bonnie, that’s it—“

Simon keeps your eyes covered, waiting until your sobs taper off until you’re just left hiccuping.

(They’re so gentle with you afterwards too. Some part of you wants to recoil from their touch but you’re too exhausted, too comfortable and warm between the two of them to do so. You end up drifting off tucked under Simons chin and Johnnys arm thrown over you.)

🍋 Anon

i read this right before falling asleep earlier then spent many minutes staring up at the ceiling thinking about it. like. oh my GOD lemon

like a bird. we're using bird logic for this. everyone is going to collectively pretend that you are very easy to brainwash.

the dark and warm comfort of johnny's cage... it becomes a safe space for you. you're very very rarely fucked with when johnny isn't locked in there with you, and pretty early on your brain connects the dark cage with safety, a little bit of peace. simon knows that (has done it very intentionally, in fact) - when you need a space to calm, he throws the blanket over you. When he wants to emphasize a punishment or smth, no blanket and no darkness.

simon covering your eyes, and after a few minutes johnny's mouth :( you need dark and quiet to really calm down, and all of johnny's teasing starts to work you up again. so the three of you end up almost piled on top of each other, simon with a hand over your eyes and one over johnny's mouth to keep the both of you quiet and calm

sooo much aftercare, because you're a little shaky when they let you see again. feel really vulnerable, need a lot of support <3

#🍋 anon #asks and answers #dlmliyh #i think? sure

144 notes · View notes

smileyerim · 1 year

Text

where we end is somewhere far, something hard to understand

part 1: i don't care what we are it just has to work

You’re his. All encompassingly his. Even if he doesn’t know it, or worse, doesn’t want it, you’re his. All you can do is just hope he’s yours too.

title: Understand by Hippo Campus

pairing: idol!chan x hannah’s roommate!reader

genre: smut MDNI, angst, fluff (in that order)

length: 6k

warnings: sex between adults, oc has low self esteem, unresolved ending

net tags: @kflixnet @straykidsland

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The exciting nerves are bubbling in your belly as you stare at the empty duffel bag lying limp on your bed.

Tonight is the night you’re going to see Chris again. He and the rest of his team arrived last night and although it’s silly, it feels as if you could sense his presence from the moment his plane touched down in LAX. He’s been texting you between schedules about how excited he is to see you and how embarrassed he is going to be when you see the crop tops he’s been given to wear on stage.

Plopping down on your bed, Hannah stares at the duffel bag.

“What’s that for?” You blush in response, head hanging low as you roll a pair of gray sweatshorts.

“I’m spending the night with Chris.” You say and Hannah bellows out a loud disgusted noise and you roll your eyes.

“It’s not like that.” She rolls her eyes at you this time.

“Of course it’s like that.” She says, giving you a look of disbelief.

“No, we’re just friends! He got 2 beds!”

She hums and gives you a knowing side eye, “That means nothing if you don’t use them.”

You squeal and move to push her off your bed and out of your room, the blush taking over your cheeks getting to be too much for your liking.

“Okay, okay!” She exclaims as she stands, hands up in defense.

“Fine I won’t tease you over the fact that you’re,” she pauses to give you a fake gag, “sleeping with my,” another fake gag, “brother-”

You cut her off with a yell of her name and she bursts out in laughter “stop it, seriously.” You whine and she lets up, her arms coming around your shoulders to hold you in an unexpected hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She sways you side to side as you exhale your anger and let your arms around her waist to hug her back.

“I just,” she says into your hair and your heartbeat quickens.

“I love you both. A lot. So please be careful.” You lean back and laugh before attempting to shut her down again.

“Hannah, it’s not-” she cuts you off.

“No, Y/N, seriously listen to me.” Her arms tighten around your neck as she intertwines her fingers together. “He’s my big brother and I know him better than anyone. He likes you, he likes you a lot.”

You blush at that, staring down at the toes of your shoes touching and she continues.

“I don’t want to see either of you getting your hearts broken so, please, for me, just be careful.”

You nod, the blush on your face still just as hot as before as you look up and meet her eyes again.

There’s a lot that you were hoping you’d never know, and Chris’ feelings for you was one of them. Your ignorance can’t keep you hiding forever behind your insecurity. You need to learn to accept that maybe, just maybe, Hannah’s right.

“We’ll be careful.” You whisper while holding eye contact with her. The corners of her eyes turn up as she smiles and pulls you into another squeeze and you laugh the tears that threaten to fall away.

After a beat of laughing and holding each other, Hannah can’t help herself but to quip, “use a condom, don’t get pregnant.”

“Hey!”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You’re standing in front of the mirror with sweaty palms observing your final outfit when Hannah calls you from the hallway to inform you that the Uber is here.

One shaky sigh and a final once over of your outfit consisting of simple green cargo pants and a black bra top with chunky silver chains around your neck. It’s a bold outfit, not something you usually find yourself donning but today is a special occasion and you want to impress.

A blush trails up your neck and settles on your cheek at the idea of seeing Chris later after the show and watching his reaction to you. If he thinks you’re beautiful in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, he’s definitely going to find you stunning now.

“Y/N! Come on!” You let out a sigh and one more once over before you grab your purse and walk out the door.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The venue is packed out wall to wall with fans from your perspective from the second floor VIP box Chris set up for this show. There’s a faint scent of stale fog machine in the air and as each moment draws by you feel the urge get stronger and stronger to drink.

So you do, and are about to down your third free shot from the all inclusive bar before another one of your roommates comes up to interrupt you.

“Easy tiger, what’s got you so worked up?” She says, gently prying the plastic shot cup out from between your pinched fingers.

The truth is you don’t know exactly why you’ve grown a sudden affinity for alcohol. You would be lying to yourself if you tried to claim it had nothing to do with Chris, but you can’t quite pin what is making you so nervous.

You shrug at her, avoiding her eyes as you take a smug sip out of the beer bottle you were hiding behind your arm from her.

“Look, don’t be nervous tonight. Just try and have fun!” She says, placing a cautious hand on your shoulder. You don’t remember ever telling this roommate about your situation with Chris, so you aren’t sure how she knows about your need for nerves. Out of the 4 girls total in your apartment, you only really had bonded with Hannah.

“Can’t you see? I’m drinking to not be nervous and to have fun.” You quip and she rolls her eyes at you.

“At least let me catch up.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Your heart drops the moment he steps onto the stage, the roaring screams of the crowd plugging your ears at the same time that all of the breath is stolen from your lungs. Your vision zeroes in on him and a rush of adrenaline flows through your veins.

“Woah, he’s hot” one of your roommates from beside you giggles and you can’t help but agree.

“That’s my brother! Shut the fuck up.” Hannah exclaims from the other side of you and you laugh at the exchange.

“She’s right.” You tease, knocking shoulders with Hannah when she makes a shocked face in response.

You try your best to keep distracted through the show, drinking beer after beer until your limbs feel a little floaty and the smile on your lips is permanent. Chris is putting on an amazing performance, his natural and trained talent shining through with every song that goes by. You can’t help but move along to the deep bass in the dance songs and sway with the rhythm to the slower ones.

Once the show is over, your heart drops at the prospect of leaving the comfort of your viewing box and venturing out and meeting him. Hannah grabs you by your wrist, whispering a quiet “come on” in your ear before leading you down the hallway to a winding set of stairs going down into what you presume is the basement of the arena. You didn’t realize how drunk you were until this moment, the chains around your neck feeling too heavy and too foreign to be yours.

All of your plans and all of your suspected self control go out of the window the moment you spot him, it’s like all of the air has been sucked out of the atmosphere. He’s taken his makeup off, he’s changed into a much more casual outfit of jeans and an oversized white tee-shirt. He's wearing a baseball cap backwards, too. He’s no longer Bang Chan, the star on stage, but Chris. The same guy you’ve been pining after for months. The same guy you’re pining after even now.

He laughs at something the man beside him says when he spots Hannah as she runs through the crowd of bodies to him. He wraps her up in a hug quickly, an emotional look taking over his face as he holds her tight. He’s whispering something in her ear that you can’t seem to make out. An overwhelming feeling of fondness comes over you as you watch them together, it almost makes you feel like crying.

That is, until you actually start crying when his eyes meet yours over her shoulder. A smile larger than you’ve ever seen on him spreads over his face as he lets Hannah go and makes a straight bee-line over to you.

The tears in your eyes fall the moment he makes it over to you, picking you up by the waist to spin you around in a twirling hug. You grab the back of his neck and squeal in his ear, finally feeling at home for the first time in months.

He lets you down, but he doesn’t let you go when you finally lock eyes, “Hi, beautiful.” He breathes out dreamily, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

“Hi.” You whisper back to him, another tear slipping down your cheek.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You can’t help but bask in the new feeling of shit just getting real when Hannah landed a kiss on your cheek before you stepped out of the passenger side of her car in front of the swanky hotel you will be calling home for the evening.

Your hands won’t stop shaking around the duffel bag you brought, stepping into the lobby and taking a seat. Chris had texted you earlier that his manager would come find you and let you into the room.

The silence in the empty hotel room engulfs you whole. It feels suffocating being left here alone with your thoughts, only the sound of the air conditioner humming in the background to distract you.

You’ve never liked the quiet all that much, always preferring to have at least one stimuli to distract you from your constantly whizzing thoughts. You always feared that you would wear yourself out by obsessing over them, so constant distraction became your best friend.

Now, however, you don’t have a choice but to sit with your thoughts. Immediately your mind is filled with him. His laugh, his smile, the way he performed on stage tonight, the way he looked at you when he noticed you backstage. Your heart flutters at the last thought and you allow your reverie to be filled with daydreams of you two together. Your first kiss, holding hands, telling him just how much you love him.

That last one hurt, even if it was just your own imagination, a tear pricking your waterline. You’ve spent hours upon hours imagining him with you and feeling the pain of being without him, but he’s never been closer than now and the idea of still not having him while he’s here is heartbreaking. So heartbreaking you aren’t sure what you would do if it came true.

Your tears aren’t left to fall for long as you’re shocked out of your daydream when you hear the telltale sound of a keycard being slid into the lock and the hotel door unlocking. Standing quickly you sniffle your runny nose away and blot under your eyes to clear up any runny mascara and wait.

Your eyes meet as he moves through the doorway and the same smile from before returns to his face. He ditches his suitcase in the entryway and hustles over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his nose into your neck. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold the back of his head, eyes closing in bliss. Chris heaves out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding and melts into your embrace, holding you tighter and tighter as if you might fly away.

You can feel his heartbeat and you’re sure he can feel yours, a smile lifting up the corners of your lips at the feeling of finally having arrived; the feeling of him being here and holding you. Your hand moves instinctively to scratch at the hair on his head and he responds with giggles and a slight squirm in your arms.

“That tickles.” He says into your neck and you respond in your own laugh.

“Sorry.” You whisper back, stopping your movements and dropping your hand to cup the back of his warm neck.

“No, don’t stop.” He says and the smile on your lips grows wider before you hum contentedly and resume your scratch.

He sighs out another big breath, slumping his shoulders to rest slightly against the top of yours, “I didn’t know how much I needed this until now.”

The tears threaten to fall again at that sentence, a pang of hurt strikes your heart behind your sternum as you process his words, choosing just to nod against him.

After what feels like hours he finally pulls back, pausing for a moment to make eye contact with you with a look in his eye you don’t know how to read. He steps back once more, hands still on your waist and skims his eyes up and down your body,

“Wow, look at you.” He says in disbelief and a blush creeps up on your cheek, feeling a bit too exposed by the potentially excessive exposed midriff provided by your mid rise bottoms and bra top.

“What?” You laugh out, trying to read him. Luckily he doesn’t make you read his mind, giving you a look of disbelief before looking back over your outfit and letting out a wolf whistle.

You laugh before his hand moves from your waist to grab the tips of your fingers, gently lifting your arm above your head to signal you to twirl for him. You smile, blush on your cheeks reddening as you do so, feeling his eyes examine you.

When you’re back facing forward he grabs both your hands with his and finally resumes your eye contact with a dreamy look in his eyes.

“You look amazing.” He says with a lilt in his voice that communicates to you he meant every word.

You look down in an attempt to calm your nerves down before responding, “thank you.”

“Did you do it for me?” He says and you let out a nervous chuckle before meeting his eyes that are staring at you with an intensity you weren’t expecting.

Slowly, you nod your head up and down, fluttering butterflies escaping their cage in your belly at the prideful smile he gains after your response.

“Lucky me.” He says pulling you into a hug once more.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Unfortunately, your time with Chris gets cut short by the time 1AM rolls around. He has early morning schedules and then is off to the next country on their tour list later tomorrow night. So you decide to turn in a bit earlier than you had wanted for his sake.

An issue came to rise when you unzipped your duffle bag to grab your change of clothes for the evening, eventually coming to the unfortunate circumstance that through Hannah’s interruption when you were packing earlier you had forgotten a sleep shirt.

You squeeze your eyes shut, sweatshorts in hand as you contemplate your options. You could go without a shirt and just wear your casual crop top intended for tomorrow's outfit, but you don’t want to be an outfit repeater. You could just go without it, but that idea gets shot down the moment you remember your current relationship status with Chris.

The last, and frankly only option, is to ask Chris to borrow a shirt himself.

It shouldn’t be so hard, right?

You stand awkwardly in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning a shoulder against the doorway as Chris brushes his teeth. It’s insane to you how he manages to still be so attractive when spitting.

“Hey, princess.” He says after finally getting rid of the toothpaste suds in his mouth. You feel the need to take a step back at his pet name, so you do.

Looking down at your socked feet in embarrassment you say your next words.

“We- I-” you take a deep breath, “there’s a problem.”

His face drops and he steps into your space, grabbing you by both biceps, “what’s wrong?”

An embarrassing blush creeps up high on your cheekbones and you nibble on the inside of your cheek, “I don’t have a sleep shirt.”

He lets out a sigh of relief and an exasperated laugh, “That’s it? Man, you scared me.” He says with a squeeze on your arms before dropping his hands.

You giggle along, accepting that your flair for drama may have influenced his fear.

“Sorry.” You whisper, looking down at the floor again in even deeper embarrassment.

“I have a ton, hold on.” He says and you step aside to allow him to enter the main room.

“On second thought actually,” he looks at you with a flirty twinkle in his eye as he’s unzipping his suitcase.

“You could just go without one.” The butterflies in your belly burn to a crisp at the fire that just lit up inside of you, more embarrassed than ever.

“Oh, God, look at you!” He’s clearly amused at your growing humiliation, bellowing out a loud laugh and grabbing his stomach.

Oh, you think to yourself, he was joking.

You begin to laugh along with him accepting finally the ridiculousness of the scenario, nearly missing when he throws a shirt at you.

Keeping your head low as you giggle quietly to yourself, you make your way to the bathroom to get ready for the evening.

Once you emerge from the bathroom ready for bed dressed in Chris’ shirt, you find him sitting on the edge of his bed, back facing you.

He’s quiet, shoulders slumped in his muscle tee and staring at the wall. He seems peaceful but also pensive. It’s at this moment that it hits you how deeply you care for him. It’s not like you weren’t aware before, but seeing him so vulnerable and private is bringing up feelings you didn’t know you had. The man sitting with his back facing you is not Bang Chan, star and leader of Stray Kids, he’s not even Chris, the man you have a hopeless crush on.

He’s human, entirely human. He’s vulnerable, weak, and alone as all humans are. You’ve played up this image of him in your head for so long that you forgot who he was at his core. He has seemed so big to you, so unattainable and perfect that you forgot who he truly was. Just like you, a person at his core.

You step towards him and sit down beside him on the bed, the warmth of his thigh invading yours. The moment your skin makes contact with his he slumps over to the side, lying a heavy head on your shoulder. Although no words are spoken, you know exactly what he’s communicating. You lift your hand closest to him and rest it on the back of his head, petting his hair down in response. He sinks deeper into you, his shoulders relaxing at the comforting contact. Your heart leaps out of your chest painfully and you bite your lower lip and squeeze your eyes shut as you feel the telltale warm sting in the corner of your eyes that you’re about to cry. Chris’ hand finds your thigh and his thumb moves back and forth slowly over your skin only expanding the emotions you’re feeling.

You aren’t sure how long you sit there with him in meditative silence, but it’s not before long that you notice his frequent yawning. With a chuckle, you move your shoulder a bit to urge him to sit up. He whines as you stand to face him.

“Let’s get you to bed.” You say and he pouts a childish frown and shakes his head no which makes you laugh.

“I haven’t gotten to tell you how good you look in my shirt yet!” He says, eyes widening while giving you a once over.

“Oh, well, you just did.” You quip, nudging him with your hip as you move to pull back the covers on his bed.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You’ve been lying in bed for what feels like hours awake by the constant flittering thoughts of the man resting in bed 10 feet away from you. He’s here, he’s actually here and yet you’ve never felt further from him than now. The intimacy of the moment you two shared before bed has not left your mind since your head hit the stiff pillow below you.

Fuck it, you decide as you slip out of bed and make the 2 step journey over to his. Chris feels the bed dip beside him and the chilly night air kisses his skin when you lift the covers. Slowly, you move to lie your head down on his chest, a palm on his bare peck and an ear to his collarbone.

“Y/N?” His arm out of instinct wraps around your middle and pulls you flush to his side.

You hush him before replying with a muffled, “Just let me be close to you.”

He has no response, lying stiff while your hair tickles his nose.

Feeling his stiffness, you grow embarrassed. Maybe you read the goodnight hug the wrong way, maybe you’ve been reading the entire night the wrong way. So you cower, lifting your head off his chest to look up at him. “Do you want me to leave?”

He doesn’t respond right away, still in shock that you’re here, surprised by how much holding you in his arms feels right. You feel a bit silly now that you’ve actually followed your desires, but there’s something about being so close to him that feels so right you don’t have the bandwidth to be embarrassed.

“I-” he says, his hands traveling up your back, palms flat against your skin pulling you closer. His eyes dart between your two, reading the desperation and love swirling around in your eyes.

Before you know it, he’s kissing you. Rules and fears be damned, he needs you. He can’t go home with the regret of not doing something to show you how he feels for you.

You respond as quickly as your brain will allow you to, immediate alarms going off that you may be dreaming setting your reaction time back a millisecond or two only to be awoken by the force of his lips against yours grows stronger in him kissing you harder, begging for you to reciprocate. Your eyes flutter shut as you move your lips against his, a move greatly appreciated by him as he responds to pull you in closer, kiss you harder than you thought possible. A groan slips out of his throat when your tongue penetrates his lips, swirling delicately with his. Your kiss is exactly what Chris had always imagined it to be: gentle and passionate, a desperate oasis in a desert.

His hands light fire as they trail down your body to find their home at your hips, squeezing and rocking you onto him in a straddle. Your ass makes its home on his thighs, saving the main course for later. For now all you want to do is taste his lips and revel in the feeling of finally arriving at the destination you’ve been dreaming of for months. You feel on top of the world with how he’s kissing you with so much yearning like he’s been waiting his whole life to be here under you.

His mouth trails down your neck and your hand flies up to rake in his hair to encourage him to continue. He leaves multiple sloppy wet kisses in his wake and a couple love bites too. He spends an extra long time marking near your carotid artery, growing obsessed with the feeling of your wildly beating heartbeat against his lips.

Once he reaches near the bottom of your throat, he chuckles before saying, “It’s so weird, you smell like me.” He says into the neckline of his shirt between kisses.

“I don’t smell like you, your shirt smells like you.” You quip back at him, scratching his scalp and lightly tugging when he finds your sweet spot.

He leans back, a disbelieving look on his face, “Duh.” he laughs.

You shrug, hands leaving his shoulders to find the bottom of your shirt to take it off swiftly and throw across the room.

If his eyes were wide before, they’re as big as saucers now as he stares in shock at your exposed chest.

“Better?” You flirt, hands moving back up to intertwine behind his head.

He leans in at that moment to press a tentative gentle kiss to your chest, “Much better.”

He re-embarks on his journey of kisses down your body as one hand flirts its way up your stomach to grab your breast whole, your nipple immediately hardening at the contact from his icy hands. You flinch back and Chris smirks into the top of your right breast,

“Sorry, cold hands.” He says with a squeeze to your left breast.

“You’ll just have to do something else to warm them up then, huh.” You say between loud pants, anticipating Chris’ arrival at your nipple with too much excitement.

Chris’ mouth moves down quickly to your nipple to leave an open mouthed wet kiss before sucking your nipple into his mouth to flick the hardened tip with his tongue. Your jaw falls slack and a moan erupts from your throat. Chris uses the opportunity of your distraction to snake a free hand down to your ass, giving a tight squeeze.

“Something like that?” He flirts, smirk on his lips as he moves his mouth's attention over to your other breast, leaving his hand on your ass, roaming back and forth in a pet, squeezing often to ground himself. He grows tired of playing it safe quickly, the arm that was on your ass moving to grip around your waist to hold you as he flips you over onto your back. He thinks you look the most beautiful like this, hair splayed all over his pillowcase, topless and with eyes filled with a ferocity he’s never seen from you before but is eager to investigate.

Your hands quickly find the bottom of his muscle tee, pulling the item off of his shoulders and over his head in record speed. He kisses you again as your hands explore the rigid expanse of his torso, trailing the tip of your fingers between the valleys of his abdominal muscles. His own hands have a mission of their own complete as the arm he’s not using to hold himself up tickles down between the valley of your breasts, over your navel and finally to land on your inner right thigh, teasing the side of his pinky finger over your already aroused center. You moan his name when his pinky finger swipes up over the valley of your labia.

“Pl-please.” you moan, pushing your chest up into his, teeth gnawing on your lower lip, hips rolling up in the process in an attempt to get friction from his hand. He just stares in awe at your beauty, unbelievably excited that he’s here experiencing this with you. He sits up on his heels now to slowly draw your shorts off your hips and down your legs. He moves torturously slow, wanting to savor as much of this moment as possible. Once your shorts are long gone and you are fully exposed to him lying on the bed, he loses all sense of self control, one hand flying up to stroke your thigh while the other moves directly to your center, using his 2 first fingers to spread your lips apart. With your lower lip between your teeth you watch him take care of you, admiring you for all that you are in front of him.

In a move you weren’t expecting, his hands chase over to your calf, lifting your leg to be at eye level for him, placing a delicate kiss to the spot just above your inner knee. You can practically feel your heartbeat at your core by how desperate you are for him to just do something. His kisses are slow and delicate as he moves up your leg getting closer and closer to the ultimate prize. Each time he stops to lick and suck you whine, urging him on forward.

He finally places a delicate kiss to your cloaked clitoris, earning a loud moan of his name out of you. He sticks his tongue out to lick a wide strip up over your clitoris, pushing back the hood in the process to give the direct stimulation you need to make your mouth water. One of your hands is grounded in his hair, the other on your breast tweaking with your own nipple as he does his work.

“F-fuck.” you exclaim, hand on his hair tightening their grip as your legs tighten around Chris’ shoulders when he delivers a powerful suck to your clit, tongue moving forward in the act to flick at your exposed nub.

“Again?” He teases, the vibration of his words against your center feeling deliciously satisfying.

He doesn’t wait for your answer, sucking your nub into his mouth one more time and pressing the tip of his pointed tongue into the nub in a nearly orgasm-causing explosion of ecstasy.

When his tongue trails down to your leaking entrance, you pull on his hair to bring him back up to face level with you for a heated kiss. His free hand is busy underneath your kiss as he slips a hand into his shorts and boxers to pump himself a few times to ensure he’s ready. He breaks the kiss only to sit up on his knees between yours and wiggle the basketball shorts down his hips. He stops for a moment right before his dick springs out to admire your expression, totally zeroed in on his crotch with wanting eyes.

When his shorts are finally down his legs you reach out to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, earning you your first moan of his for the evening and his head flying back to stare at the ceiling, your hands tightening in an experimental squeeze before pumping him up and down a couple strokes, thumb pressing harder into the sensitive spot right below the head each time you come up. Soon enough his hand is swatting you away and he’s leaning over you again, cock lightly touching your clit as he kisses you.

“I don’t have a condom,” he says into your lips, rocking his hips slightly forward to offer you stimulation on your clit from his hard head.

“I don’t care, I just want you.” You say against his mouth and he groans, quickly lining up the head of his cock to your entrance and pushing in slowly. You both disconnect your kiss to throw your heads back in earth shattering moans. His shoulders move in a shiver at the sudden stimulation, moving out to rock back into you gently again. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as you moan into his mouth as he fucks you deep and slow, fully inside of you at each stroke. His cock hits a new angle when your walls tighten around him and you let out a loud yelp, eyes squeezing shut. He smirks at your reaction, shifting his knee to redirect his cock to hit that spot again, again, and again.

“Holy fuck, Chris.” you say into his neck, pulling him down to rest his upper body weight on his forearm near the side of your head.

He responds with a sharp breath in your ear before picking up his pace to fuck you faster into the mattress. His free hand comes up between your bodies and grabs one of your breasts, squeezing the nipple between his first 2 fingers, drawing another moan out of you.

“Fuck,” he says, digging his knees deepeer into the mattress for more leverage to fuck into your harder and faster.

“That’s it Chris, holy shit.” you moan, hand flying up to his hair to grip at his short locks.

He lets out a loud moan at your tug on his hair, hips stuttering for a moment at the new wave of pressure that came over him. That urges you to grip tighter and tug again, his hand tightening around your breast in response.

“I-Chris,” You moan after a particularly satisfying stroke and he nods in understanding, picking up his stroke pace once more.

“Me too.” He says and you use your hand in his hair to pull him down to kiss you as you both reach your highs with spotty vision and unbelievably sincere moans. He continues to rock into you until his cock is too soft to continue to help you both ride out your highs to the full finale.

Once he pulls out he falls on top of you, head on your chest with an oof. You two remain there for a moment catching your breaths slowing down your heavily beating hearts. Your hand that was previously pulling on Chris’s hair loosens its grip, stroking the back of his head with gentleness as you bask in the afterglow realization of what had just happened.

He’s the first to open a conversation with a simple, “Wow.” followed by laughter on both ends.

“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “Wow.” you mimic him, beginning another fit of laughter to break out between you.

“Were you- uh- were you planning for that to happen?” He says after resting his chin on your shoulder to look into your eyes.

With a soft smile on your face you answer honestly, “Nope.” you giggle and he matches your smile back to you.

“Me neither,” he says, draping an arm across your exposed waist.

“But,” he says as he turns his head to look once more at your naked body, “I’m not mad about it.” he says in a high pitched tone and you laugh again at his antics, truly feeling on cloud nine. He could say anything to you and you’d probably find it endearing enough to giggle at. That’s how happy you are right now.

His hand moves down to your thigh, squeezing a couple times and splitting your legs apart, causing the uncomfortable leak of semen to trickle out of you.

Noticing the change in your facial expression, he moves his hand back up to your waist to move your face towards him to place a barely-there chaste kiss on your lips. It’s so gentle and sweet that you can’t help the smile on your face growing against his lips. He joins you soon after until you’re both just smiling against each other's lips. He leans back only to nuzzle his nose against yours, causing your nose to crinkle and a giggle to escape from you. He then places a final true kiss to your lips with a contended hum.

“Why don’t you go wash up, yeah? Then we can talk about what that just meant.” Your eyes widen and you nod, slowly getting up out of bed and padding towards the bathroom with a permanent smile on your face.

Neither of you know much but what you do know is that you two are far from the finish line on your relationship. In fact you’re at the start of the race towards a goal that is very far away and neither of you understand quite yet, but you’re okay with it.

Where you two end is somewhere far away from where you are now, and you couldn’t be happier.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

a/n: the relationship in my life i wrote part 1 based off of has ended up causing me a lot of pain in the time between posting part 1 and 2 so writing this was very difficult. Due to that, I spent much less energy attempting to write something good, more just desiring to write something. I'm sorry it's not the same quality as part 1, I was half desiring to write my own imaginary happy ending, other half just wanting to abandon it and no longer be reminded it ever happened. Thank you for loving part 1 so much, I've never had a taglist this long. It means the world to me

taglist: @elizabeth11moreno @goldieharry @want2besomeoneelse @ynieeeeeee @dreamyenskz @nattisbored @hyunjinsbbokari @skzlzks @lin0ot @iamkuhreesbang @chrisbang-addict @icyllic @a-aaaaaaaaaaaa @idunnomanmynamewastaken @b4ngch4nsimp @hakunaamaatittiessss @writeingdocs @starch1ve @sherryblossom @moonmooncr

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hyunsvngs · 6 months

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ok so since this is halloween it’s my last chance to dabble into vampire hyunjin. more specifically vampire hyunjin feeding on you.

he hated the prospect at first; he doesn’t want to hurt you but you insisted and it actually became a very intimate thing for both of you, a time to bond. plus he stays satiated a lot longer when it’s your blood.

the best way to go about this is to get you really relaxed, sleepy even. it always starts off as a hug, an embrace. you’re both seated in front of each other on the bed and he’d just beckon you to come over and give him a hug. you’d both be bare from the waist up as skin-to-skin is very important. you’d straddle him, legs encircling his waist and snuggle your face into the place where his chest meets his neck, so warm. he’d hold you close to him, his fingers tracing soothing figures on your back, his other hand softly caressing your hair. he’d be humming and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. it’d be almost imperceptible but he’d be gently rocking you back and forth. after a few minutes he’d notice your breathing becoming deeper and slower, your head heavy on his shoulder. "ok angel i’ll start to feed now, yeah?" he’d keep his voice low not to disrupt your peace "mmh mmh" you’d mumble sleepily. he’d softly push your hair to the side, letting the cool air brush your shoulder and earning himself a pretty sigh from you, and graze your skin with his hooked knuckle, admiring your vulnerable state, all for him.

he’d start by kissing you there. more pretty sighs. from you and him. then one single lingering wet open-mouthed kiss on the side of your neck, as if to prep the area. he’d finally sink his teeth into you and despite his efforts to be a clean eater, you’d immediately start to feel the thick blood dribbling from your neck to your clavicle. you can already feel your own blood sticking to your skin, pressed between your breasts and his toned chest. it’s messy. it’s very wet but so warm. the feeling drives you crazy.

as soon as he plants his fangs into you hyunjin feels you tense up in his embrace, but not for long. after the initial shock subsides, he instantly feels you go lax in his arms again, if anything you snuggle further into him, whining. he’s baffled. so much trust, so much devotion, so much abandon. he doesn’t deserve this, you. it’s too much. but he knows he’s damned anyway.

even in your sleepy state you find the strength to gently run your fingers through his hair, shushing him while he keeps feeding on you. whispering to him that it’s ok, as you would to a child who just lost his favorite toy. he’s quite literally sucking the life out of you and /you/ are consoling him? he does feel like a child in your arms. he holds you tighter, making himself small, frantically lapping at your neck. you slowly rub his back, getting sleepier and sleepier. the sounds he makes are delicious, literally hearing him gulp at each pulse, drinking you. you are so so tired but it’s getting you worked up. you start to gently rock your hips against him and you swear you hear a muffled moan from him. you relish in seeing him so relieved, his eyes fluttering close, knowing you caused his peaceful state. he’s slowly killing you, will surely do if he doesn’t stop soon, but it feels like a hug. it IS a hug.

OKAY IMS ORRT IM LATE REPLYINF TO THIS BUT ITS BECAUSE I HAVE GENUINELY NOTHING TONSAY BC THIS IS ACRUALLY WRITTEN BEAUTIFULLY??? THE IMAGERY… I COULD TALK FOREVER….. I COILD ANALYSE THIS

everyone READ

#juno’s asks ♡#sweet baby anon #asks: hyune

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mixelation · 1 year

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okay i wrote a scene from the reborn au. here's team disaster

Tori sat in the grass, her water canteen propped up between her knees. A stack of mismatched bento boxes Kushina-senei had “lovingly” filled with food sat next to her. Kushina-sensei herself paced the grass in front of Tori, occasionally blocking her view of Deidara and Itachi beating the snot out of each other.

Tori had been aware, in her previous life, that Itachi and Deidara were simply on a different level from other ninja. Now this knowledge was even more acute. Itachi’s form was perfect and deadly. Deidara’s style was more lax but just as quick and lethal. They frequently blurred in front of her, moving too fast for her eyes to track, and she knew this is just them fucking around because Kusina-sensei told them to spar. She couldn’t imagine a world someone like her could keep up.

Kushina pouted as she paced, occasionally shooting Tori a look like she expected Tori to do or say something. Maybe she wanted Tori to ask questions, or to demand to be taught the crazy spinning kick Itachi just used to knock Deidara over.

Tori smiled back at Kushina. It didn’t bother her too much that she wasn’t some sort of genetic freak like Itachi and Deidara. Sure, she’d like to be able to keep her own in a fight if one happened to happen to her, and using ninjutsu would be cool, but her motives for becoming a shinobi of Konoha had very little to do with wanting to kick ass and a lot more to do with wanting a soft, safe bed at night and a whole research department to exploit during the day.

(Also, Kushina’s cooking was pretty good. The free lunch was a nice bonus.)

Besides, if Tori decided she wanted to kill some ninja that was out of her league, she’d figure out her own way to make it happen. She’d done it before with less.

Itachi finally cracked a tree trunk with Deidara’s head, and Kushina-sensei paused her pacing, propping a hand on her hip. Her brows furrowed minutely, but it wasn’t out of concern for Deidara. No, Tori was positive that Kushina-sensei was frustrated because Itachi and Deidara needed no coaching or teaching from her whatsoever.

Tori felt a little bad for her. Kushina-sensei was kind of pushy and loud, but she enthusiastically presented them with a homemade lunch everyday, and she’d seemed so excited to teach them that first day. It wasn’t fair that she got handed a team with two ninja that were secretly S-ranked missing-nin instead of cute genin who actually needed her guidance. That was why, when Kushina-sensei shot Tori another look, Tori hopped to her feet and clapped her hands together in the world’s worst applause.

“Nice hustle, Itachi!” she called.

Itachi turned to stare at her over his shoulder, like she’d said something a little bit stupid. If she didn’t already know him, Tori thought this expression would be a bit intimidating. Unfortunately for Itachi, she’d met infinitely scarier people. She clapped harder.

Deidara was mostly unharmed, except for maybe his ego. He shoved Itachi as they walked up the hill to meet Kushina-sensei and Tori.

“Next time we use jutsu, yeah!” Deidara declared. “Then you’ll be eating bark.”

“Uh-uh, not unless we get a higher clearance training ground, you know,” Kushina-sensei chided, now with both hands on her hips. “Okay, since Itachi won, he spars Tori next.”

There was a long, awkward pause.

“I’d rather not,” Tori said.

Kushina-sensei just raised her eyebrows at her. “Well, you’re gonna,” she replied.

“I won’t break anything,” Itachi added solemnly.

“I don’t want to,” Tori insisted. “I don’t see what the point would be.”

She was just going to make a fool of herself. She’d be okay with a proper teaching spar– the kind where the more experienced shinobi carefully guided the spar. She didn’t trust Itachi or Deidara to have the slightest idea how to do this. Kushina-sensei was ordering her to go let Itachi kick her ribs in for no reason.

“Kid, I am your Jounin sensei, you know,” Kushina-sensei told her, eyes just a little incredulous. “You have to do what I say, no matter what.”

Deidara was looking at her the way he would right before she did any sort of fuinjutsu, like he expected her to accidentally set the grassy field on fire or something. Was talking back to a teacher really so scandalous?

“Do you need a pep talk, girl to girl?” Kushina-sensei pressed, eyes lighting up in a way that Tori did not want to deal with.

“Fine, fine,” Tori grumbled. Meeting Itachi’s eyes, she said, “If you do break something, you owe me dinner for a week.”

Itachi faced her the way Deidara had looked at her sometimes, when they’d been renegade ninja buddies for a month. It wasn’t that he thought she was weak or delicate, or even that Tori couldn’t be incredibly dangerous under the right circumstances, but more that he’d already sorted her into a category of non-combatant. There was an uneasiness in his body language, imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t used to reading him. Itachi still thought of her as a civilian, and one he theoretically liked. Fighting her hand-to-hand was as inconceivable to him as it was to her.

He did proceed to fight her with kiddy gloves on, she thought, because she saw every hit coming even as she failed to dodge. The fight ended with her limping back to the pile of bento, sweaty and bruised all over and slightly embarrassed. This would have almost been better in her old life, where expectations for her taijutsu were in the negatives.

“Okay!” Kushina-sensei cried, sounding more excited than she should be. “Let’s analyze what happened!”

The analysis was basically just Kushina waving her arms and listing things Tori needed to improve, because Itachi’s taijustu was borderline perfect. Tori opened her canteen and took a long chug of water while Kushina-sensei babbled. A couple of insights were useful, but most of it boiled down to “Itachi is just better than you in every way.” It would be humiliating, Tori thought, if she were actually twelve or if she didn’t already have a history with both Itachi and Deidara.

It wasn’t completely not embarrassing, though! For once maybe they could do an exercise Tori would excel at, like having a pleasant conversation with a stranger, or what to do if the scroll you stole was sealed up tight.

Deidara turned his head to hide a smirk at her expense. Tori considered chucking her canteen at him.

“Oh,” Itachi suddenly said, head whipping round from where he’d gotten bored and turned to watch a dragonfly. “Tori, I’ve been meaning to tell you. Your tree-walking is all wrong.”

Tori stared back at him. “What?”

Kushina-sensei practically exploded with joy at the chance at a teaching moment. They were all ushered down the hill and over to the tree line to watch the incredibly mundane sight of Tori walking up a tree.

“What, because she’s slow?” Deidara asked, watching as Tori flipped herself over to stand on the bottom side of a branch. The long braid she’s tied up her hair in dangled centimeters from brushing the grass below.

“I think I’m doing fine,” Tori sniffed. Kushina-sensei too seemed confused about what the problem was. Sure, Tori slipped or mistimed the jutsu sometimes, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t getting better and better with practice.

“No, you’re…” Itachi trailed off, staring at her. Unlike for their spar, he’d activated the sharingan. “You might be doing that in the least efficient way possible. Who taught you?”

Tori glared back at him. She was barely using any chakra to stick herself to trees and buildings nowadays, thank you very much. If she was expected to be even more efficient then she might as well just quit being a ninja now.

“No one taught me,” Tori replied. “It’s just the leaf exercise but on your feet, isn’t it?”

Kushina-sensei’s eyes widened in horror, and Deidara burst into hysterical laughter.

“What?” Tori demanded. She was standing on a tree, wasn’t she?!

“Oh, Tori….” Kushina-sensei said.

As it turned out, tree walking wasn’t just activating and deactivating the leaf exercise to stick plant matter to yourself as you hopped around in a tree canopy, carefully timing sticking and unsticking yourself to the tree with every step. Apparently that was an insane way to do it, and Deidara kept spontaneously choking on his own laughter over how insane a thing to do it was. No, tree-walking only required a thin layer of chakra on the bottom of your shoes, and you could easily stick and unstick yourself without having to constantly adjust it.

It was a team effort to explain this to her, everyone talking at once. Apparently if you’d already solved a problem in the most cursed way possible, everyone wanted to correct you. Still, she managed to parse what she should have been doing from the cacophony of noise.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tori demanded of her feet, glaring down at her sandals as she walked up a second tree, this time with about a million times the ease.

“Wait,” Deidara wheezed, straightening up from where he’d had to lean against another tree he was laughing so hard. “Tori, how have you been water-walking?”

Tori stared back at him, expression dead. “You don’t want to know.”

#reborn au #my writing

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navybrat817 · 2 years

Text

Don't Let Go - Prologue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Series Summary: Bucky Barnes breaks your heart after a passionate night together. Doing your best to pick up the pieces, you try to distance yourself and move on. When he comes back into your life and refuses to walk away, will you give him a second chance or let him go for good? Prologue Summary: Bucky reflects on the past, present and future with you while you sleep. Word Count: Over 800 Series Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal sex (wrap it before you tap it), pregnancy, angst, angst with a happy ending, miscommunication, violence, more tags to be added, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: This is series I hope you have out in a few weeks! This idea wouldn't leave my mind and I hope you lovelies enjoy this journey. While the prologue is from Bucky's POV, most or all of the series will be from your POV. ❤️ Beta read by the beautiful @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Also thanks to @11thstreetvigilante, @sweeterthanthis and @dreamlessinparis for letting me scream about this. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblogfor new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

The safehouse was quiet as Bucky did a second sweep, his feet silently padding across the floor as he listened and looked for anything out of place. He couldn't be too careful. He wondered if he should've taken Steve up on his offer to stay, but you were already overwhelmed with one overbearing super-soldier. If anyone would keep you safe, it was going to be him. Not to mention, he selfishly wanted time alone with you to fix his mistake.

Even when you vehemently snapped that once you were safe, you'd be out of his life.

Not happening, doll.

Once he was satisfied that everything was in order, he made his way back to the bedroom at the end of the hall. You were still asleep on your side of the bed with a soft blanket over you, having dozed off minutes ago. He was thankful you managed to get some rest. You fought to close your eyes when you got ready for bed and you needed a good night's sleep.

You also didn't want him to sleep in the same room as you, but you lost that fight.

He knew this wasn't easy. You were a good agent, always had been, but you were attacked in your home. Between that and the news he received, both of you were in a bit of shock. Now you had to deal with him watching over you and being involved in your life.

For the first time since he could remember, he had hope for tomorrow.

Even in the dark, and though he couldn't see your face, he knew you weren't fully relaxed. Your breathing was even, but your muscles were tense. You were on edge the moment you came face-to-face with him again and the earlier argument exhausted you. The stress of everything couldn't be good for you.

I know you're afraid, but I'll help you get through this.

Bucky quietly slid into the bed beside you, hesitating for a moment, before he slid an arm around your waist. His hand rested on your stomach and he took pride in feeling you go lax under his touch. He closed his eyes as he nosed along your neck, breathing in your sweet scent. Memories of that night flooded him like a tidal wave: how pliant you were under his touch, how beautiful you looked when you let go for him, how you accepted every part of him.

You didn't try to fix him because you didn't think he was broken.

He wishes he could hold you like this every night, just like he imagined since you first fell asleep in his arms. It was difficult to not get aroused with you curled up against him, but he knew you'd sooner stab him if he tried anything. He would tread carefully for the time being.

How did I think I could ever walk away from you?

After what HYDRA made him do for all those years, he wasn't sure if he could be a warm and gentle person again or if he deserved a chance at happiness. He had no choice in the matter for what he did, but it didn't wash away the blood from his hands. It didn't take away the guilt or memories. You reminded him that he was still Bucky and someone worth caring for. Maybe even love.

He repaid your kindness by treating you as if you meant nothing to him.

The hurt in your eyes when he callously dismissed you haunted him ever since. Natasha told him more than once that he was an idiot for what he did, even when she tried to distract him from his feelings for you. If anything, it only fueled them more. You were it for him.

Give me another chance and you won't regret it. I swear, I won't hurt you a second time.

It pained him to have you so close physically, yet so far away in your heart. He broke it as a means to protect you, but he was only kidding himself. You got under his skin in the best way and he couldn't let you go. He couldn't let you run again either.

You had every right to give up on me, but why did you run away from everyone?

As strong and capable as you were, he knew the attack was just the beginning. Someone was after you. He had to find out who wanted you and why. There was also a lot to talk about and work through. You weren't ready for what still existed between the two of you and you sure as hell didn't trust him. He couldn't blame you for that, but he was a part of your future whether you liked it or not.

I won't let anyone get you, doll. You or our baby.

*****

Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

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ladytauria · 4 months

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AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH “Let me ride you.” for... jaycass :"O

ahhh thank you so much for the prompt <3

so, initially i wasn't sure what to do for this one, but then yesterday, i read a post from @deepwithintheabyss, and, uh. well. later that night i wrote the first 300 words for this <3

it ended up being jaytimcass instead of just jaycass, and uhhh. somehow it spiraled into a little over 4k of... pure smut. featuring: established jaytim with dom tim and sub jay having a threesome with dom cass <3

oh, and a tiny bit of incest, because in one line tim does call cass his sister<3

same day edit: some rephrasing, sentence restructures, and some clarifications added in certain spots. nothing major has changed, though, so if you've read it already you don't need to reread <3

>> AO3 <<

Tim and Cass (and to a lesser extent, Steph) share everything. That’s just a fact. Clothes, safe houses, gear, food, showers, toothbrushes—

—and sexual partners.

Albeit, Jason’s more than that to Tim. Tim loves him, wholeheartedly, which—everything he’s ever seen and read says that should mean he wants to keep Jason all to himself.

And he does. Mostly. With one little exception.

Tim loves him, adores him, and that means… he wants desperately to share him with Cass. Not all the time, or even frequently, but. She’s such a part of him that it feels only natural for her to share in this too, even if it’s only once.

Which is the only reason he brings it up to Jason at all.

Jason’s response is a quick and emphatic no. Tim doesn’t pout or plead—he takes the rejection gracefully, kissing his cheek and reassuring him that no is a complete sentence, and if he’s not comfortable, that’s okay. Tim still loves him, he’s not upset.(Maybe, privately, a bit disappointed, but he knows better than to say that.)

He’s pretty sure that’s the end of it.

Until Jason brings it up again, later. The image, the thought, hasn’t left his mind, and… tentatively, he’s willing to try it.

Which brings them to now. Here. In Tim’s bedroom, the lights low, the three of them stripped to their underwear. Cass hangs back for now, perched to the side, watching.

Tim straddles Jason’s thighs. It splays his legs wide open, the kind of stretch that might burn a little if he wasn’t as flexible as he is. He’s got both hands buried in Jason’s hair, tipping his head back so he can kiss him hard and deep—fucking his mouth with his tongue.

Jason moans under him, hands resting on Tim’s hips. Spit smears around their mouths, dripping down their chins. It’s wet and messy and good, especially with how lax Jason’s mouth is. If Tim’s own tongue wasn’t in the way, he’s sure Jason’s would be hanging out like a dog.

God.

He’s so good. Part of Tim wants to glance over at Cass, ask with his eyes, Do you see this? Do you see how beautiful he is for me? But he doesn’t, because right now, this is about Jason.

About getting him comfortable and aroused and ready for Cass to join them.

He plunges his tongue as far in Jason’s mouth as it’ll go, straining his frenulum in the process. It’s worth it for the noise Jason makes; for the flex of Jason hands on his hips. Fuck. Tim loves how strong he is, how easily he could manhandle him if he really wanted to.

How he doesn’t, because he wants Tim to manhandle him instead. (And Tim does, and can, because he may be small, but he’s strong.) He wants to be good. And that—

It’s heady.

He tugs Jason’s hair with one hand, drawing a delicious noise from him. His other hand slips down, gliding over Jason’s neck, shoulder, to grip at his bicep. The muscle is pliant under his hands; squishing easily when he kneads at it. Under the fat and lose muscle, though… Solid as rock. That makes Tim moan, licking into Jason’s mouth one more time before pulling back.

The lack of air is making him dizzy.

Jason, too, he thinks, judging by the way he blinks blearily at Tim, sucking in a deep lungful of air like he’d forgotten he was supposed to be breathing. It’s cute. Cuter still is the high noise Jason makes when Tim attacks his neck with lips and teeth and tongue. He refreshes old, faded markings before moving down, down.

He slides his other hand from Jason’s hair now—down his neck, over his shoulder and down to his collarbone, where it’s joined by the other. He cups Jason’s pecs in his hands. They fit in his palms almost like tits, fat and relaxed muscle plush and soft as he kneads with his fingers.

Jason’s moan is high and sweet.

It gets higher, sweeter, when Tim wraps his mouth around a nipple.

He usually likes to start slow. Soft. But he knows Cass’s mood tonight is neither of those things. Patient as she’s being, there’s an antsiness in her. Tim had offered to reschedule, but…

He’d known by the look in her eye what his sister wanted. He also knew that Jason was more than capable of rising to the occasion, regardless of how Tim chose to prep him. Still. Tim was going to get him used to it now, starting by sucking hard on his nipple… and following that with a scrape of his teeth.

Jason shudders, his skin pebbling with bumps, a sweet little whimper in his voice.

He hears Cass shift. Chances a quick glance over at her, and nearly smiles at what he sees, the way her gaze has gotten more intense. More interested. He can’t blame her. Jason really does make such lovely sounds.

It motivates Tim to draw more from him. He plays with Jason’s nipples until the man is shying under his touch—then, he leaves a ring of bruises around his pecs, loving the way he squirms.

Tim can feel Jason’s hips working. Small, minute shifts, seeking friction. His cock strains at his briefs—tight, black, with a little bit of red lace trim. Tim presses the heel of his palm against it, letting Jason grind on it.

It makes him pant, open mouthed, body trembling with each breath. When Tim takes his hand away, he whimpers again, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. A glossy sheen of tears coats them, starting to gather in the corners.

Adorable.

Tim kisses his nose, and shoves at his shoulders. Jason goes, falling back into the bed willingly. He looks up at Tim with the sweetest expression—needy and wanting and so so adoring. Tim loves him.

Jason lifts his hips obediently when Tim hooks his fingers in the waistband of his briefs. They look so good on him it’s almost a shame to take them off, but. Tim knows for a fact what’s underneath is far prettier. He tugs them down his legs and tosses them toward the hamper.

Tim skims his fingers up the underside of Jason’s cock, watching the way he shudders; bumps pebbling on his skin. The flesh of him is hot under Tim’s fingers—precome saturates the head, drooling down the shaft. Tim swipes his finger through it, and sticks it in his mouth, ignoring the needy whimper Jason makes, instead humming, pleased, at the feeling of salt on his tongue.

“Grip the headboard, Jay— Good boy. Knees up for me, yes, just like that, that’s beautiful.” Tim reaches—Cass hands him the pillow he was looking for, and he thanks her with a brief smile. Jason blinks at her, like he’d forgotten she was here—and then smiles, shyly.

Cass smiles back, ghosting her fingers over the underside of his thigh. Jason shivers, arms twitching. Before Tim can ask, he’s raising his hips, letting Tim slip the pillow under them.

Cass hands him the lube next.

Tim cups Jason’s balls. Lifts them to expose his perineum, and drizzles lube over it, letting it dribble down to Jason’s hole. Jason flinches, keens. The headboard creaks under his grip, his hands twisting around it.

He stays where he was put, though, even as tears trickle down his temples. Cass hums, pressing up against Tim’s back, stroking over Jason’s calf as she hooks her chin over Tim’s shoulder.

Tim rolls his balls in his palm in reward—Jason shudders, head tipping back with a soft moan. Then Tim lets them go so he can slick up two of his fingers. He circles them around Jason’s rim, massaging the muscle. The muscles in Jason’s thighs twitch as they quiver. His belly jumps.

Tim pushes in with his index finger; just to the first knuckle. He keeps rubbing his rim with forefinger, biting back a smile as Jason fights to stay still. His cock drools, dripping onto his abdomen. Cass pets over Tim’s belly, humming as she watches. Her other hand is still tracing patterns over Jason’s calf.

He pushes in to the second knuckle, rubbing at Jason’s walls. Jason is hot around him, his passage silken. He pumps his finger once, twice—then withdraws. Jason whimpers, though it cuts off sharply when Tim plunges back in with both fingers, to the second knuckle. Jason clenches around him, wiggling his hips, a needy, plaintive sound in his throat.

Tim works his fingers, quickly working his fingers in to the third knuckle. Jason’s passage spasms around him, as if he can milk his fingers.

“Needy,” Cass says.

Tim hums in agreement, and Jason whines, pouting at them both. The pout drops off his face when Tim crooks his fingers, rubbing over his prostate. Jason’s lashes flutter, mouth open in an O, more tears rolling down his face as he whimpers. His hips twitch a little, like he can ride Tim’s fingers.

The angle’s not good enough, though, and he’s forced to simply take what Tim gives him.

When Tim adds a third finger, Jason keens again, bucking, hands straining against the headboard. He can feel Cass’s breathing deepen, feel the way her hand presses down on his belly, the way she presses closer against his back.

“Taking me so well,” Tim croons as he stretches Jason open. He tears his eyes away from Jason’s face to watch his hole, the way it swallows Tim’s fingers. Such a pretty sight. He hums to himself.

Tim keeps teasing him, massaging his prostate, stretching his walls, until Jason is sniffling, crying, sweet, desperate sounds falling from his mouth. Then, Tim takes pity. Cass slicks up the plug Tim had set out, passing it to him when it’s ready. Tim withdraws his fingers. Jason doesn’t even have time to whine before Tim is rubbing the base of the plug against his hole.

It’s a little thicker than even three of Tim’s fingers—he watches Jason’s hole stretch to accommodate it, enjoys the way he strains, arching up off the bed, sweet little cries leaving him.

Tim rocks it until he’s sure it’s nestled right against his prostate. Then he pats Jason’s thigh. “Good boy,” he praises.

Jason sniffles at him, widening his eyes, pleading silently.

Cass laughs sweetly in Tim’s ear.

“Not yet." His cock throbs at the way Jason’s face drops. He holds his hand out automatically, accepting the final toy from Cass—a cock ring.

Jason whimpers at the sight of it, but he doesn’t put up a fuss when Tim works it over him, fixing it to the base of Jason's cock. He kisses the tip, precome smearing on his lips, and pets Jason’s flanks.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says. “You just relax for me. Deep breaths—just like that, very good. Keep your hands on the headboard for me.” He cards his fingers through the hair on Jason’s belly a few times, watching as Jason does what he’s told, eyes fluttering shut.

When some of the tension has eased from his shoulders, Tim moves, sliding up to sit next to Jason’s head, leaning back against the headboard. Cass crawls after him, her movements graceful and languid like a predator. Jason, eyes open again, watches her with wide eyes. She straddles Tim’s thighs and twins her arms around his neck, toying with the short hairs at his nape, making him shiver minutely. Tim cups her hips, stroking his thumbs over the v leading to her groin.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

“Hi,” she echoes, mouth twitching. The light in her eyes is dancing with amusement and anticipation. Tim tips his head back as Cass kisses him; mouths moving in perfect sync, tongues slipping and sliding together wetly, neither of them taking more from the other than they’re given. Push and pull—back and forth. A dance Tim thinks both of them were born knowing the steps to.

The headboard creaks. Jason whines pleadingly.

They ignore him.

Tim’s hands smooth up Cass’s rib cage, counting each bone under her skin before palming her breasts. He knows Cass doesn’t usually wear a bra—that the lacy thing cupping them is for their benefit alone. He plays with her nipples through the fabric, enjoying the way she rolls her hips against him in return.

When she nips his tongue, he goes for the band, unhooking it with practiced ease. Cass shrugs it off, tossing it carelessly over her shoulder.

The headboard creaks again as Jason makes a soft, plaintive sound. Tim smiles into Cass’s mouth before she breaks the kiss. This time, it’s her turn. She pays only a little attention to his chest—pinching his nipples until he squirms. Then she focuses on other things, spaces of his body that Tim had never known were sensitive until she found them. His side, his stomach, even spots on his back. Cass works them all while Tim holds onto her hips and moans.

It drives Jason crazy beside them. Tim can hear him squirming. Hear the sweet, needy sounds he makes. Can picture the way tears fall on his cheeks. It would be so easy for him to look over, to see it for himself, but.

Ignoring him while they put on a show will drive him that much crazier. And Tim loves to drive Jason crazy.

Tim’s turn again. He kisses Cass’s neck, using far less teeth than he had on Jason and leaving no marks. His hands roam her body, mapping out the places that make her squirm, make her breathing hitch, make her even moan. It’s always a treat, getting a sound from Cass. She’s so silent. (Tim likes that too, though: reading her pleasure from breath and expression alone.)

They don’t stop until both of them are leaking through their underwear; damp spots where their arousal pools the thickest.

Tim discards his—Cass does the same above him, both of them tossing them carelessly. He turns to Jason again, finally, finding him watching them. He’s just as Tim pictured; face rosy red, tears glistening in his eyes and on his cheeks, hands twisting around the headboard, grip white-knuckled. A pearly pool of precome glitters on his stomach.

Tim strokes his cheek with his knuckles, stopping to cup his jaw, thumb catching over his full bottom lip. Jason’s lips wrap around the tip, suckling., looking up at Tim with wide, pleading eyes.

Tim smiles at him. “Good boy,” he praises. “Being so patient, keeping your hands where I told you… Do you think you can keep being good for me?”

Jason nods, immediately, curls falling into his eyes.

Tim brushes them back to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Of course you can,” he croons. He takes a condom off the bedside table, sitting up. He works his hand over Jason’s cock, gentle, making sure it’s thoroughly coated in pre before he rolls it on. He can hear the way Jason’s breath hitches in anticipation. “You’re gonna stay nice and still, and let her ride you, aren’t you?”

Jason’s breath hitches, and he nods again; quick, sharp jerks. “Yes. Please. Pleasepleaseplease.”

Tim strokes his face, fingertips skimming over his jaw. He looks over at Cass, nodding, giving her the go ahead.

She’s all languid limbs when she climbs over Jason, settling onto his thighs. Tim lies on his side, ignoring his own erection in favor of propping his head up with one hand, and trailing the other over Jason’s chest, twirling his fingertips through the wiry curls.

Cass wraps her hand around Jason’s cock—looking pale and small against his cock. The contrast makes his fingers itch for a camera. She rubs the tip through her folds, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth parted.

The headboard jerks under Jason’s grip, knocking against the wall. Tim kisses his jaw. Cass teases Jason for a moment more—Tim can see her eyes glittering under her lashes, the twitch at her mouth that shows just how much she’s enjoying the sounds Jason makes.

And then…

Cass slams down, taking Jason to the root with a single thrust.

He shouts—Tim is half worried the headboard is going to snap under his hands. It doesn’t. Instead, it slams back against the wall again; a loud sound that makes him glad he doesn’t have neighbors. Jason’s chest heaves, his arms shake.

Cass sets a hard, brutal pace. Tim can barely hear her soft grunts under Jason’s cries. She switches back and forth between riding him and grinding on him, rubbing her clit against him. Fat tears roll down Jason’s face; his skin is flushed from head to chest. His tongue lolls out of his mouth—Tim can’t resist plunging two fingers between his lips.

He’s rewarded by Jason sucking; cheeks hollowing, swallowing around them. Tim pets his tongue idly, turning back to watch Cass.

He can tell the moment she comes—clamping tight around Jason’s cock, her movements stilling. Jason lets out a strangled cry, teeth grazing over Tim's skin. Cass's head tips back, chest thrust forward. She still looks so composed; only a slight flush on her skin; the barest sheen of sweat.

She isn't still for long. Bending backwards, reaching for the remote at the foot of the bed. Jason’s brow furrows in confusion at the sight of it—until she presses the button, and the plug in his ass buzzes to life. Jason’s breath hitches. He whines needily around Tim’s fingers. He pumps them, fucking Jason’s mouth properly, watching the way his eyelids droop. He pants, breath hot and humid.

Tim brushes his mouth against Jason’s ear. “Such a good boy, letting her use you like this,” he whispers. “Letting her use that pretty cock of yours to make herself come. A sweet little toy for her.”

Jason moans around his fingers, shivering, looking up at Tim through his lashes. His sucks turn more insistent, and Tim chuckles. “Do you need something more in your mouth, baby?”

Jason whines, nodding. Tim drags himself back up, moving until Jason’s head and shoulders are pillowed on his legs. He takes his fingers, wiping them on Jason’s cheek. He feeds Jason his cock.

Tim will never tire of Jason’s mouth. His body is a furnace, running a few degrees hotter than everyone else’s. He feels molten and soft around Tim’s flesh, and when he sucks—

Stars dance in Tim’s eyes.

He pets Jason’s face, deepening his breaths to try and keep them even. Jason moans, whines, cries around Tim’s cock—but he never, ever stops sucking and licking, doing his best to bob his head, and staring up at Tim, hazy-eyed and adoring. He soaks up ever stroke of Tim's hand like he's starving for it.

If Tim was even a fraction less horny it would make his heart ache. As it is—he just gets harder, belly tight and hot.

He's nearly undone when Cass comes again—Jason's mouth tightening around him, moaning long and low, the sound vibrating around his cock.

Tim reaches out with his other hand—Cass takes it, tangling their fingers together. She’s showing signs of exertion now, sweat glittering and glistening on her skin. As beautiful now as she is on stage, arms raised in a perfect pirouette.

She squeezes Tim’s hand.

Tim squeezes back. He taps Jason’s cheek with the other, getting his attention. “You’re going to make Cass come one more time, baby,” he says. “And then you get a reward, alright?”

Jason hums, blinking slowly up at him in acknowledgement. His lashes are clumped with tears, eyes rimmed with red. Tim strokes a finger down the line of his nose, over his bulging cheek.

Cass’s pace is slower this time—her hips rolling. Her breaths quicken, quiet moans tumbling from her mouth. The movements of Jason’s mouth grow clumsier; too focused on Cass. Tim doesn’t mind. He is too.

When Cass’s stomach starts to tighten, the muscles flexing, showing off her abs, Tim lets go of her hand, rising up a little to pull her into a kiss over Jason’s head. He hears, feels, Jason groans—the vibrations make him moan. A particularly hard thrust has Cass tensing, then coming with a sigh, melting against Tim’s mouth.

She pats his cheek when she pulls away, smiling at him, eyes hazy and face pink, looking far more relaxed than when they started. Tim smiles to see it. She slips off of Jason, resting on his other side, curling her legs under her.

Tim eases his cock from Jason’s mouth—when he whimpers, Cass replaces it with her fingers. Jason’s eyes blow wide in surprise, and then he sucks eagerly. Cass smiles down at him.

Tim settles between his legs, cupping his balls lifting them as if he's testing the weight of them before making a low, sympathetic noise. "Aw, poor baby. You're so full. I bet it hurts, doesn't it?"

Jason whines around Cass’s fingers. Tim is sure he would be begging to come if he could speak—especially when Tim rolls them in his palm, rubbing them with his fingertips. Jason thrashes his head, his hips moving in short, aborted jerks as he tries to stay still, like Tim asked.

“What do you think, Cass?” Tim asks, contemplatively. “Has he earned it?”

Cass hums, her mouth quirking on one side. “Hasn’t made you come yet,” she points out, to Jason’s distress. Idly, she starts circling one of his nipples with her free hand. Tim watches his chest jerk, both up and away.

Tim lets his eyes widen, pretending surprise. “You’re right. He hasn’t. That’s not really fair, is it Jay?” he asks, and Jason whines, pouting around Cass’s fingers. He’s so cute, with his curls falling into those big, pleading eyes, glassy with lust and tears.

Ignoring him, Tim hums contemplatively. “Although... I did promise him a reward for making you come again." He pets Jason's thigh, cocking his head like he's thinking. “Hm… I suppose for your reward, darling, I’ll take this off for you.” Tim eases the cock ring from him, and lets it fall on the bed beside them. “But if you want to come…” He grabs the base of the plug, Cass turning it off as pulls it out. “You’re going to have to do it on my cock. Think you can do that?”

Jason nods, frantically. His cheeks have hollowed, and Tim knows he’s got to be sucking Cass’s fingers like a champ. He can see her moving slightly, probably petting his tongue.

Tim lets the plug drop on the bed with the cock ring. He grabs the lube again. Hisses at the cold liquid on his heated flesh before he strokes himself, smearing it everywhere. He doesn’t bother with a condom; just lines himself up with Jason’s hole, lifting up one of Jason’s legs and pushing it toward his chest.

With one snap of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt.

Jason sobs. His cock and balls twitch, a spurt of precome splattering on his skin. He tightens beautifully around Tim, making him snarl at the tight, wet heat of him.

Cass hums, watching with dark eyes. She presses her mouth against Jason’s temple and whispers, just loud enough for Tim to hear, “Beautiful.”

The praise makes Jason shake, sobbing again. Cass brushes hair from his forehead, looking from him to Tim, clear approval in her eyes. Keep him, she tells him silently, without so much as moving her lips.

I intend to, Tim says back, snapping his hips again. Jason keens.

Cass keeps petting Jason, touch firm and soothing, letting him suck on her fingers as Tim fucks him. He uses the same pace as Cass, right at the very start. Hard and punishing, slowing occasionally to roll his hips, angling for Jason’s prostate.

It doesn’t take very long at all for Jason to come. Especially not when Cass starts teasing his tit again—scraping a nail over his tight, puckered nipple.

Tim has to hold his hips and Cass his shoulders to keep him from arching completely off the bed, mouth hanging open in a silent shout. He paints his own chest with come—Tim helps him, massaging his balls and perineum while fucking him shallowly.

When Jason collapses, he looks half passed out.

Tim pets his flanks, giving both of them a moment to catch their breaths and then... he keeps going, chasing his own bliss in the tight heat of Jason's body.

Cass drags three fingers through Jason’s come—examines them curiously, tilting them in the light. Then, she slips her fingers from Jason's mouth, holding up the ones covered in his come instead. Jason swallows them down without hesitation, moaning when he tastes himself on her fingers, and that—

That’s when Tim spills, deep inside him. He feels Jason shudder, hears his quiet moan, feels the way he clenches around him. He clenches tighter when Tim pulls out, as if he can hold him inside, but Tim ignores him. A line of come follows his cock; Tim scoops it up with his fingers, stuffs it back inside, using them to keep him plugged while he snags the plug. He uses his come to slick the plug before working back inside him. As soon as it's settled, Jason sighs sweetly, relaxing back against the mattress, suckling contentedly on Cass's fingers.

Tim crawls up to the headboard, settling down on Jason's other side. He strokes Jason's cheek. "You can let go of the headboard now, sweetheart," he whispers. Jason blinks up at him. It takes him a second to comply, and when he does, it's slow, finger-by-finger before he lowers his arms. Cass slips her fingers from his mouth, then; she and Tim each taking one of his arms, massaging them. Jason hums, low and rumbly like a purr.

Tim raises Jason's hand to his mouth, turning it to kiss his palm before threading their fingers together. "Very well done, sweetheart. You were so good for us, thank you."

Jason shivers, blinking sleepily at him, a little smile on his mouth.

Cass sweeps Jason's bangs from his face again so she can kiss his forehead. "Good boy," she tells him when she comes back up. Jason blinks at her, wide-eyed with surprise. Then he flushes, smiling shyly at her. She smiles back, sweetly, patting his cheek before leaning over him.

Tim meets her halfway, sighing into her slow, languid kiss.

They say sharing is caring, and right now, Tim couldn’t agree more.

#jaytim #jaytimcass #timjay #batcest #tauriawritesfanfic #tauriawritessmut #paprikadotmp4 #asks and answers #prompt fills

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demetris-cocksleeve · 2 months

Note

Okay but Ojiro with a thigh kink please because I hc he loves having a chubby or thicc partner for cuddles because so soft. And he just has to be big spoon. When cuddles aren't enough, he nestles between her thighs and turn into a whiny, whimpering mess, rutting against her as she pets his hair encouragingly.

(A/n: You're speaking my language-😋)

(Not quite what I wanted, but it's what happened...)

Word Count: Womp womp

Summary- Ojiro has a thigh kink

Warnings: I dunno, not proofread

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

(There's no good gifs of him- send help😭)

Ojiro Mashirao x Fem! Reader: Thigh Highs

-----------------------

You can feel his stare burning holes through you as you do the dishes, though it only makes you smirk. You know what you're doing, and so does Mashirao. It's a little game both of you like to play.

Well...

It's a game you like to play and it's his pride that he tries to hold on to.

Wearing thigh high socks with your shortest pair of shorts to see how long he can hold off jumping your bones. (Spoiler: it's never that long.) You know how he gets with your thighs; especially when they pudge out over the top of the fabric. You see the way he swallows and sets his jaw. The way he has to force his eyes to leave the stretch of skin; how his fists clench and unclench as he gathers himself.

It's exhilarating being able to make the man known for being calm and collected almost feral.

The water is shut off with a flick of your wrist, and you bend down to grab a towel from one of the lower drawers, not bothering to bend your knees. Not when he's almost there. Finally, you hear the tell-tale pop as Mashirao rolls his shoulders, the tendons audibly shifting from the excessive force.

"That's it."

Before you can blink, he has you pinned on the cold counter as he bends you over.

You can feel the heavy length pressed against your thighs through his sweatpants.

"You just love to tease me, don't you?" Ojiro mumbles into your shoulder, pressing the barest hint of a kiss into the skin.

You huff a laugh, pressing back only to have his hips shove you right back to where he wants you. "Can you blame me?" You breathe.

He's grinding into you, cock dragging along the back of your thighs in a way that has your head going a little foggy. You start to feel a damp spot on his sweats, and your neck goes lax, resting your cheek against the smooth granite.

Another wave of slick pulse from you, and you can't help but think that you've probably soaked through your shorts by now. It's when you shift and feel the sticky wetness on your thighs that you're proven right.

"Press your legs together, baby. I want to fuck your thighs." Mashirao pulls back just long enough to pull down his sweats and boxers.

You arch your back as much as your position allows and flex your thighs, the hot, wet tip of his cock pressing against them right after. Mashirao wraps a toned arm around the front of your waist and uses his free hand to keep your torso down. Using the new leverage, Ojiro forces you to keep position and starts to thrust.

The slide is a bit dry at first, but by the time he's found the rhythm he wants, there's enough slick and precum that the vulgar *schlick* of his length moving between your thighs is echoing through the small kitchen.

"Fucking hell, baby- just like that, keep your thighs tight for me."

Your eyes slip shut as you snake one of your hands down your shorts to rub at your clit. The cold touch of your fingers causes your hips to jump a bit, but you ignore it. Instead, circling your fingers around the sensitive bud as you focus on the sounds Mashirao is making. Every grunt and moan rumbles against your back and shoots straight to your heat, and you let yourself fall to the pleasure.

You don't bother trying to stop yourself as your hips begin to buck against your hand, Ojiro's iron grip keeps you in place anyway.

His hips start to stutter, and his thrusts become almost erratic at the same time your vision starts to blur. You can feel your climax coming. You just need a bit more.

"Come on, Y/n, cum for me. I want to hear it." Ojiro groans out, breath hitting your skin in short bursts as he pants.

He shoves his face into your shoulder with a guttural moan as his hips still. Thick ropes of cum paint your skin white and soak into your thigh highs as it runs down your legs.

You're not too far behind.

"Mashirao~" you mewl, fingers working overtime to get yourself off.

Finally, that peak comes. It crashes over you as you coat your hand in your arousal.

Your face feels hot against the cool countertop as you try to steady your breathing.

Ojiro is still plastered to your back when you do, pressing kisses into the hollow of your throat.

"You win," he mutters with a grin.

#ojiro mashirao x reader smut #ojiro mashirao x reader #ojiro x reader #ojiro mashirao #mashirao ojiro x reader #mashirao ojiro

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joshkiszkasgothgf · 1 year

Text

Made for Each Other - Josh Kiszka (FWB to Lovers)

Not gonna lie this is gonna be pretty fluffy. I’m needing sweet lol

(Some word help for this one. You’ll see me use “Sug” a couple times. That Is the shortens form of Sugar, so “Sug” is gonna be pronounced with a Sh- sound like in “sugar”)

Warnings: 18+, post show sex that’s passionate but pornographic, AFAB body parts in this but I tried to keep it sans pronouns, degrading sex nicknames and dirty talk, bareback

✨Masterlist✨

Now, is a friends with benefits relationship with the lead singer of one of the most popular rock n roll bands to grace the stage in the 21st century a good idea? Probably not. In the grand scheme of things he has an army of loyal fans willing to take up their pitchforks should they find out you hurt “their” curly haired vocalist. He’s also always in the public eye, touring the world constantly, and nose deep in a journal or book like writing is his religion.

Has saying yes to him also been the best decision you’ve ever made in your life? Most certainly yes… and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

The day he asked was a normal day. You had to run some errands and, hating to go alone, you asked Josh if he’d like to join you. He responded ‘Do you even have to ask I’ll be at your house in 10,’ and the two of you headed off shopping.

Unnaturally, Josh was quiet and bashful the entire trip. Not once did he make an innuendo clad joke or chat up every person he could. No, he stayed close to your side like a puppy, arm wrapped through yours. It was cute just how soft and sweet he was being.

It wasn’t until the two of you returned home that he finally opened up on his unusual behavior…

“Look,” he starts, rubbing at the hair in his chin, “I really do like you and I want to continue spending time with you,”

Okay you’re nervous now, but you decide to hear him out…

“…but I want to share more of myself with you and I’m just not in the right mindset for a relationship right now. Not while the band is still finding it’s footing.” Josh wraps his arms around himself, fingers splaying across his shoulder blades. He always has a way of lengthening his sentences when he’s nervous about what he’s talking about. Shifting from foot to foot, playing with his hair, he says, “Is it selfish of me to ask to enter into a friends with benefits situation? Because I need you in my life, but I don’t have the ability right now to give you the time and energy you deserve, but if I don’t have the get to be intimate with you I’m going to lose my mind.”

You stare at your friend in surprise, your jaw lax as the normally energetic man bashfully asks something you always kind of hoped he’d ask one day. Setting down the groceries on the table you turn to look at him, “How tightly were you holding that in?” You ask, teasing him a little in the hopes to calm his nerves.

It works; a playful grin pulls at his lips, “So hard I was clenching my core I was holding it in so hard.” Josh makes a silly face imitating him walking around with his core clenched, playing it up by walking around like an old man.

Your laughter fills the kitchen and the bright look that overtakes his eyes and face turns your entire nervous system to mush. Unable to help it you come over to him, cupping his face in both your hands and pull him into a kiss… Your first kiss together.

After a mind-meltingly long lip lock you’re sure took hours from your day, but really only robbed you of 5 minutes; Josh pulls back and presses his forehead to yours, hands mirroring yours and cupping your face he quietly hums out, “So is that a yes?”

With a nod, a mischievous grin, and quick jot down the hall to your bedroom the two of you christen your new step immediately, celebrating this change in your current relationship. And leaving you incredibly glad you didn’t buy anything perishable .

It’s been 3 months since then. The boys have been doing back to back dates on their Dreams in Gold tour; and you have been watering all their plants and feeding their cats (Jake seems to have a small family of them that have happily taken up residency in his garden. Much to you, Jake, and the cats’ delight.)

You and Josh agreed the two of you could continue to date around and see other people, not that you had done anything of the sort. Missing your best friend and his brothers has taken up the majority of your brain space as you work and continue living your life while the boys are off living their dreams. You chat with Josh daily, he sends you poems and song lyrics, asking for your input, sharing snippets and tidbits of their trips and telling you all about the history and the stories.

Friends with benefits in a way that neither of you had originally meant or realized. You’ve become friends whose benefits are in the form of words and time and sharing life. The sexscapades that have happened are great too, but he’s been away a lot since the two of you struck your new deal. The two of you crave each other the way a fish craves water, necessary in a way both primal and conscious.

Perhaps that’s why you’re hauling ass out of the airport to meet the boy’s manager who pulls you into a tight hug and begins filling you in on how you’re gonna surprise Josh the boys tonight. You listen intently, allowing them to lead you to the car.

The car ride to the venue is full of you and their manager chatting about the hijinks the boys have gotten themselves into. You laugh so hard that upon arrival your stomach is cramping and the two of you end up laughing hard about that which adds even more time as the two of you lay limply in your seats gathering yourselves.

It isn’t until their tour manager knocks on the driver window that you realize 15 minutes have passed and you’re late to surprising the boys Josh. The two of you snort and quickly leave the vehicle rushing inside to assume your positions.

You avoid the boys entirely, the plan being to hide you in the balcony side and surprise Josh the boys after their set. Their manager sets you up with them in the balcony seats. The show goes by spectacularly, building an energy of love and magic in the venue.

You spend most of the show with your jaw dropped, eyes wide and sparkling as you watch the man you now know you love do what he loves. Tears slip from your eyes at the realization and like a strike of fate, Josh’s eyes meet yours, even up in the balcony.

The man deserves credit for not letting it slip how surprised and excited he is to see you. Instead his eyes alight with a new kind of fire, his performance heightening further (if that’s even possible) and the crowd absolutely loves it. His eyes continue to find you. You know he knows your there and it only makes you more excited to see him.

“Can we go side stage,” you whisper to their manager (and you’re new friend), “I need to be closer.”

They smile at you endearingly, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry but not until they start the encore. I’m worried if you’re side stage Josh won’t go up to finish out the show. He’s missed you a lot.”

Your heart flips and you whip back around to watch them, eyes wide and starry as they meet his which are equally as dreamy.

He mentally calls out to you telling you to come down to him.

You don’t know why but the urge to jump from the balcony and into his arms claws it’s way into your chest and you look at their manager desperately. If you don’t get closer to him you may explode then and there…

They sigh and stand, holding their hand out for you. You take it and they lead you up the stairs and towards the employee entrance that leads backstage.

You’re practically vibrating with excitement, the halls a blur as you race with the boys’ manager through them to the stage area. Their manager pulls you into Greta’s dressing room and tells you to sit and relax while the boys finish up.

The last 15 minutes of the show seem to crawl by. You watch on one of the monitors in the green room and grin the entire time, eyes trailing Josh every time he pops up on screen. It’s not long until they’re saying goodnight and heading off stage.

Josh races off the stage the second he can, feet carrying him as quickly as they can to you, needing to hold you and make sure you’re actually there. ‘I hope it’s really who I want it to be,’ he thinks, desperate to see you, ‘please let it be who I want it to be.’

From the green room you hear a collection of hollers and “woah!”s as Josh tears through the halls to the green room. When he gets just down the hall from it he sees your boot clad feet crossed in front of you on the coffee table, your favorite concert backpack sitting on the floor next to the table.

Like an energy drink that pushes Josh faster he shoots down the hall. Soon enough he’s leaning over you and pulling you into the sweetest, most passionate kiss the two of you have ever shared. The hair above his lips tickles your nose and you note just how much you missed the feeling. His smell invades your senses and the smell of sweat has your brain jumping straight into the gutter.

Josh must sense your thoughts through the kiss because he smirks and pulls his lips millimeters from yours to rasp, “Where’s your head at, Sugar?” The lust has his voice deeper than usual, accent thicker with the want spilling from every ounce of his body.

You’re proud of him for holding back and not taking you right then and there in front of everyone. In fact, the only reason he pulls away at all is his mother clearing her throat from the doorway.

“Save it, kids. I haven’t even met this wonderful person you’ve been telling me about and yet I’ve already seen you making out. I’d like to take a couple steps back, if that’s alright.” She holds her hands up as if to tell you two to slow down, stepping in to grab a water bottle for each of the four boys, passing one to Josh then to each of the other boys as they walk through the door.

The next couple hours are a blur between the boys changing and packing up, rushing to the bus and taking some time for fans; it isn’t until you’re sitting in Josh’s hotel room, watching him walk around and gesture wildly as he chats your ear off that you’re actually sitting in the same room as him for the first time in months. Tears prick at your eyes, you stand and make your way to him.

With a firm grip on his shoulder and a pull you’re spinning him around into your arms. The hug is exactly what you need. It fills you with warmth and a feeling you aren’t quite sure how to name.

Josh has stopped talking completely, your action taking the breath from his lungs in the best way possible. His arms, which are still out from his last sentence, wrap around you, just as tight as your hold on him. With slow, soft force, Josh moves the two of you into a lazy sway, the both of you worn out from your long days.

Josh has always loved your ability to make him feel as comfortable in silence as you do when he’s speaking. Even when he isn’t saying anything it still feels like you’re listening to him.

His hand runs down your back, then back up and the two of you stay like that for countless minutes; absolutely absorbed with each other. Eventually you pull back and Josh cups your cheek, turning his hand to stroke it with the back of his fingers before tucking some hair behind your ear and pulling you into a kiss you can only label as romantic.

This kiss is unlike anything the two of you have ever shared. Unshared feelings pour into it from both sides and it’s like the two of you are communicating through touch alone. He leads you back to the bed, sitting you down then helping you lay so he can crawl over you.

You shimmy further up the bed and he follows you, lips still connected. Greedy hands run along the dips and curves of his body, gripping his waist then dragging your nails back up to his shoulders. Even through his shirt the feeling is enough to cause his dick to twitch in his pants.

In a blur of movement between kisses the two of you strip each other and he’s pressing into you. You’re so wet he slips right in, causing him to groan deep in his chest. “Fuck I’ve been thinking about you all tour.”

You moan at his confession, body responding positively to the words, “You’ve been on my mind nonstop,” you manage to croak out, throat thick from not speaking.

Josh sends you a devilish grin, cock dragging against your walls as he pulls his hips back, sinking slowly back into you. He continues the motion, letting the thrusts speed up until he’s fucking you like he did before he left for tour. He fucks you like he doesn’t think he’s gonna see you again, hips pistoning at that delicious speed you love.

Your moans and whimpers only egg Josh on further, and that feeling you couldn’t name earlier is back. A blooming heat in your chest, spreading through your body and heightening your pleasure as you take in the pussy drunk man thrusting into you.

He looks so good like this. Just like on stage he looks like he’s in his element, like fucking you is what he was made to do. One of his hands slide up your body to tug at your nipples the other slips down to drag over your clit, which is hard and begging for his attention.

The contact has you writhing and moaning almost unhinged. “Shhh,” Josh breathes out a laugh, leaning down to hide his face against your neck, “Not so loud, Sug. Do you want everyone to hear you being my slut?”

Your walls clench around him in response, a little whimper getting lost against his head as you turn your face to bury it against his temple. Trying very hard to keep your moans under control, Josh’s thrusts become faster trying very hard to make you lose control.

You feel him chuckle at your bodies response to his words and change in pace. “What a good pussy for me. How’s it feel, my sweet sex angel?”

In response your orgasm washes over you, walls clenching down hard on him and a fucked out moan spilling from your lips. He chokes a little, smirk slipping from his face, replaced with a look of concentration as he tries very hard not to blow his load yet.

You shake your head when you can finally speak again and lean up, lips finding his ear, “Cum for me, Joshua. You’ve been a good boy all tour long, you deserve to cum in your toy.”

A choked sob leaves him as his cock twitches once, twice, on the third the dam breaks and you feel his cum pour into you. His body twitches and shudders from the intensity of his orgasm, arms wrapping tight around you, clutching you as he shakily comes down. You hold him, scratching lightly as his scalp so as not to overstimulate him.

His head rests between your breasts and he collapses against you, body weight resting on you placing delicious pressure against your cervix from how deep he is, still filling you up. You’re sure his cum must be spilling out around his cock by now.

Eventually Josh takes a deep breath in and you know he’s ready to sit up. Your arms slip from him and he pushes up to look down at you, a sleepy, fucked out grin on his face. “I missed you so much,” he slurs, “I know you said we could see other people while we were away from each other, but I just couldn’t. It felt like cheating.”

Your heart flips and you nod along with his words, “I couldn’t either.”

The look of relief on his face simultaneously breaks your heart and fills it with joy. “Really? You waited for me, too?”

You nod again, pulling him down to press a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re the only person I’ve wanted intimately since we started this. And I mean intimately both as intimacy and sex.” Fingers still tangled in his curls, you rub strands between your fingers, the feather soft texture calming your nerves from your confession.

Josh meets your eyes, a look in his eyes that matches the feeling you couldn’t name. And that’s when it hits you…

Love.

You were in love with him and from that look… he might be in love with you too.

So, gathering your courage, you allow the same feeling to cloud your eyes and watch his features change from nervous to relieved and overjoyed. In that moment the two of you are more in tune with each other than either of you have ever been with anyone else. After a breath finally one of you breaks the silence,

“I’m ready for a relationship if you are.”

There it is. The sentence you’ve both been wanting to hear for months. Well isn’t this exciting…

✨Masterlist✨

#greta van fleet imagine #josh gvf imagine #josh gvf smut #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh x reader

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