#well that and I just want the weather to warm up
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Butterflies
i have no chill so yes i'm back with a new fic a week after the last one. idk how or why i'm like this so don't ask. this is my second entry for @threadbaresweater's "summertime (and the livin' is easy)" collab event! my chosen prompt for this one was geto + botanical gardens. this got away from me literally in the first sentence AHAHA.
read on ao3 | wc: ~1.8k | cw: gender neutral reader, first date, minor miscommunication, both suguru and reader are bashful as hell and have been crushing for a while, several types of bugs are mentioned towards the end, but i think that's everything!
When Suguru had invited you to visit the local botanical gardens with him, you’d accepted without much thought, assuming that all your other friends would be there, too. You’d all spent nearly every waking moment together since the weather had gotten warm enough and the days had gotten long enough to spend more time outside, so it seemed like a foregone conclusion that this was going to be another one of those days.
You were quite mistaken.
Suguru was standing alone outside the front gates waiting for you, and while he was usually the first person to arrive whenever you all got together, Shoko, Utahime, or Kento usually weren’t far behind and consistently arrived before you did, so you were a bit surprised.
“Is everyone else on their way?” you asked as you approached, one hand above your brows to block the sun from your eyes as you looked up at him; you’d forgotten your sunglasses, again, something Satoru teased you about constantly. Even with the small amount of shade your hand afforded you, you squinted a bit up at your friend. His hair was pulled fully up into a bun, a hairstyle he didn’t wear as frequently as he did when you were all in high school, but with a heatwave rolling through the area, you weren’t exactly surprised he wanted all that hair off his skin.
After a moment you realized the sun was creating a sort of halo around him. Like an angel, you thought to yourself. He’s certainly pretty enough to be one. The thought caught you off guard, and you hoped it wasn’t obvious that you’d grown flustered by your own thoughts; you didn’t need him finding out about the crush you’d been harboring on him since you were teenagers, especially when no one else was there to save you from yourself.
His brows pinched in confusion, and he cocked his head ever so slightly to the right. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“Satoru and Shoko and everyone,” you said, now feeling a bit confused yourself. “Are they just running late? Usually at least Kento is waiting with you by the time I show up.”
A look of understanding crossed his face then, and his face visibly reddened. “Ah,” he sighed, looking away from you and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s uh. It’s just us, actually. Sorry, I thought you knew that when you accepted the invitation.”
“...Oh,” you uttered intelligently, feeling your own face beginning to heat as well, and not just from the sun beating down on you. It never occurred to you that Suguru would want to spend any alone time with you, away from the group; not that you didn’t get along without everyone else – you definitely did, you were just usually around the rest of your friend group – but the occasion for one on one time hadn’t arisen since you’d been partnered for assignments in school.
“We don’t have to go in,” Suguru offered gently, meeting your gaze again. “We can pretend this never happened. Or we can see if anyone else wants to join, I know Satoru’s not doing anything today.” When all you did was blink dumbly up at him, he looked away again, staring down at his feet. “I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
That brought you back to yourself, and you shook your head vehemently. “No!” you burst out, then cringed at your own raised volume and squeaky voice. “I-I mean, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. We can still go in. I looked this place up when you invited me, and I really want to see their pollinator sanctuary.”
Suguru’s shoulders dropped in relief at your words, and his small smile returned almost instantly. “I’d like that.”
As he turned and headed towards the gates, you followed barely a half step behind. You started to pull out your wallet as you drew closer to the ticket booth, but Suguru stopped you.
“Don’t worry about it,” he told you. “I bought our tickets already.”
His words had your face burning yet again, and you looked away sheepishly. “Thanks.” You followed him up to the gates, pausing long enough for the gate attendant to scan the tickets Suguru had bought – he’d printed them out, so the employee didn’t have to try and scan his phone screen, which struck as so distinctly Suguru that it made your heart flutter, though you’d never admit that to another human being.
Tickets now scanned, the pair of you were free to explore the grounds at your own pace. Ever the planner, your friend led you over to the large standing map. “Do you want to start with the pollinators?” he asked. “Or would you rather save that for the grand finale?”
Taking a few moments to consider, you looked over the map; the grounds were bigger than you thought, and you knew with the sun beating down on you, it wouldn’t be long before you were tired of the heat and ready to go somewhere with cold drinks and air conditioning. “Let’s do that first,” you said after a bit. “I don’t wanna run the risk of missing them because they’re hiding from the heat.”
Suguru nodded easily in agreement with your words. “I think that sounds like a good idea,” he confirmed. When he reached up and started tracing a path on the map from the “YOU ARE HERE” sticker to the pollinator sanctuary, you couldn’t help but watch, his hand making the sections of the map look smaller than they actually were.
“It looks like we need to go this way,” he said quietly, and though you couldn’t quite tell if he was speaking to you or just thinking aloud, his words were enough to bring you back to yourself. “The pollinators are near the back, but this section with the trees should be pretty shaded for the walk back. What do you think?”
He turned to face you then, head tilted ever so slightly as he waited to hear your answer, oblivious to the way you’d been ogling his hand. You blinked dumbly for a moment, processing his words as you did your best not to make a fool of yourself.
“That sounds good, yeah,” you agreed sheepishly. “This way, right?”
When he nodded, you turned and made your way down the path, Suguru at your side. He was right, the path he’d chosen was pretty well shaded from the sun, offering you a bit of relief as you walked. The pace you maintained was steady; you weren’t rushing by any means, but you were eager to see the pollinator sanctuary, so you were walking a little faster than you normally might have.
Birds chirped overhead, singing to each other as they hopped from branch to branch, and the sound made you smile; summer wasn’t necessarily your favorite of the seasons, but right now the pros were definitely outweighing the cons.
“Thank you,” the raven haired man said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, and you looked up at him in slight confusion.
“For what?”
“For agreeing to come here with me,” he said simply. Then, looking a little bashful again, he added, “And for not freaking out on me when I told you it was just us after you got here.”
“Oh,” you said quietly. “I was happy to accept your invitation. And I’d never freak out on you for something like that, y’know. You’re easy to be around, and if nobody else is here it means I actually get to appreciate your presence.”
“You make a good point. Satoru does tend to demand to be the center of attention when we’re all together, doesn’t he?” A soft smile painted his lips as he spoke, and his words made you giggle a bit.
“Yeah,” you agreed. “He does.”
Conversation was easy after that, talking about everything and nothing all at the same time, but it felt so good to talk with him; to spend time with him without anyone else around, something you rarely got to do, and never felt like you could suggest yourself until now. Now, though, you were sure you’d be spending a lot more one on one time with your companion.
“Oh, what was it that Satoru was trying to explain the other day? He kept comparing it to digi…mon…” you trailed off mid sentence as you stepped out from under the trees, completely forgetting what you’d been saying as you saw the pollinator sanctuary unfolding before you. Your steps slowed, and you looked around with wide eyes, taking in the sight of all the insects flitting between the brightly colored flowers: the honey bees climbing out of blooms covered in pollen; hummingbird moths hovering as they sipped before zipping to the next flower; bumblebees droning through the air; butterflies flitting from plant to plant.
Suguru slowed to keep pace beside you, and unbeknownst to you, he was looking at you far more intently than anything else in the garden. He paused for a moment, letting you walk a bit ahead of him as he admired you. As he watched, a few butterflies flew closer, dancing around your head as they came to investigate the scent of your shampoo. You stilled, though your eyes were wide as you tried to watch what was happening above you. One by one, about half a dozen butterflies landed in your hair, almost forming a crown around your head, making you look like some sort of nature spirit.
“You’re beautiful,” Suguru blurted out, and the sudden compliment startled you a bit. You turned back to face him quickly enough that all the butterflies went fluttering off again, now that they knew you were not, in fact, a flower.
“Huh?”
“You’re beautiful,” he repeated, though a bit more bashfully this time. “I’ve always thought that, y’know? I just didn’t want to make things weird between us by telling you that.” He closed the distance between you as he spoke, and he offered you a sheepish little smile. “I hope it’s okay that I’m telling you now, though.”
“Yeah,” you murmured back, smiling just as bashfully in return. “That’s more than okay. You’re beautiful, too, actually. I’ve always thought that.”
A small laugh bubbled out of Suguru at your words, and his expression grew impossibly more fond. “I’m glad we’re on the same page about that, then,” he mused. He was quiet for a moment then, his dark eyes contemplative, before he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.
The touch surprised you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You felt your face burn a bit more as he pulled away, but your smile only brightened as you looked up at him.
He smiled back just as brightly, and as he spoke again, he took your hand and laced your fingers together gently. “Do you want to keep going?”
“Yes, I’d like that very much.”
taglist: @mitsuristoleme @kentohours @peachdues @ghost-1-y @witchbybirth
@marinnnnnnnnn @dr-runs-with-scissors @enchantedforest-network
divider by saradika-graphics
#fallon's fics#geto jjk#jjk geto#suguru geto#geto suguru#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#jjk fluff#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk
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The Lives and Losses of Lovers
Description: This is actually inspired by a post by @lum1nesc3nce, which you can find here! TLDR: Zhongli x God!Reader, where Zhongli kills his lover but they stay alive. This does have a bit more of a Yandere!Zhongli flavor, though, so be warned!
CW: Yandere Themes, Descriptions of Violence, Descriptions of Blood, Murder, Mild Gore,
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
The patio is warm, blessed with the touch of the sun’s earliest rays. Already you and Zhongli sit in two comfortable chairs; he sips on tea, you on coffee. It is a scene that has played out a thousand times, yet one Zhongli never tires of. He never tires of seeing your face aglow, of feeling your body leaning against his, of knowing you are here, miraculously breathing life through your bones and skin.
“My dear, I was wondering,” Zhongli starts, his soft contemplative voice shattering the flimsy silence blanketing the porch. “Would you like to accompany me to Liyue Harbor to purchase some groceries?” It is a reward–he thinks as he revels in your surprised reaction–for how understanding you have been in these turbulent times. With the whole mess regarding the Fatui cleared up and a mundane mortal life ahead of him, Zhongli can afford to spend more moments with you in sweet, blissful love.
Perhaps one day it will make up for that vile scene years ago, the moment his heart became stone: your body splayed stunningly on the ground, looking like the most gilded, horrific masterpiece he had ever seen. Painted in sunlit hues, his spearhead sticking from your chest splattered with blood made of molten gold.
Even nearly dying you looked breathtaking.
He is still suffering from regret for the decision. At the time, the situation was looking grim; Guizhong and Azhdaha were both gone, leaving you his only close friend. He spent many moonlit nights sharing tea and hushed conversation, as well as tears and heartfelt confessions with you. Zhongli is not the god of words, but just the sight of your iridescent eyes made him want to tell you every trouble and every worry had. You were his most valuable treasure, his lover through and through. Your contract with him, to always stand by side, loyal to one another, made him so weak, so soft, so human.
But that was the issue. Everyone knew of his love, his tender affection; unbecoming of a god who wielded earth and stone as weapons. His life was plagued by phantoms day and night. When he dreamed he envisioned you being kidnapped by some evil god like Osial and being tortured. Killed. Doomed to a fate worse than death, even. In the day, every action you did reminded him of a delicate tree weathering a deluge. Your branches swayed in the intense winds and even the earth couldn’t anchor you.
So he pleaded. He begged you to stay tucked away in his private domain where no great evil could stalk after you, promising to love you for an eternity of eternities. He would love you until every mountain had become a valley. But you refused, saying you wanted to live every facet of life, turning the world like a kaleidoscope in your hands.
The mirrors shifted and the skies turned red.
Those prophecies he had dreamt, uttered to him by ghosts haunting his mind, came true. You were taken away by some pesky, lowly god, and confessed all that you knew. That was fine. Zhongli was made of stone and Cor Lapis, and even if this insignificant insect of a god knew his weaknesses–few as they were–Zhongli eviscerated them.
But the contract.
When the god was sealed away beneath the sea, Zhongli fell to his knees, mouth opened but unable to utter any words.
Zhongli is not the god of words.
It is horribly tragic, he mourns as he stares at your hollow expression, that you must face the wrath of the rock because of a ridiculous choice of words. “To always stand by his side.” You have technically betrayed him.
The earth shakes for weeks afterwards. The sudden freak earthquake is talked about for weeks on end before people move on, as life does. Zhongli does not. His memory of you remains petrified, his new specter. He will never truly love again for thousands of years. Every time he is reminded of you, a piece of his heart chips away
But then you came back.
That day is amber, crystallized in his mind. Seeing you in the bustling streets of Liyue Harbor, so lost after centuries away from home. At that moment, Zhongli decides he will not make the same mistake twice. He would have preferred more time to draw you in carefully, but he is afraid now. Afraid that some hideous twist of fate will rip you from him again. So he whisks you away to his private domain, and drafts up a new contract, binding you to him in matrimony forever.
Please forgive him, he begs after you sign the contract in gold, tears dripping down your cheeks. He only wishes to protect you; he has always wished to protect you. But the world is cruel to lovers, and not even the strong can uphold such a delicate thing.
In Zhongli’s private domain, wicked things like time and fate are nonexistent. Zhongli is the only god that rules these lands. He is a benevolent god, if a little possessive. After being deprived of you for so long, he craves your presence, he claims. Day and night, he tries to spend every living moment with you. When he cannot, you are ever-present in his mind–a living, breathing thing instead of the dead spirits that once terrorized it for all those years.
Some days you seem despondent, craving room to spread your branches far and wide. But Zhongli simply chuckles and kisses the top of your head; he smells the gentle scent of your shampoo, knowing this is what is best for you. He whispers it quietly, lacing sweet nothings and honeyed words into his voice as he pulls you into his arms.
You haven’t tried to fight him on this in years, either. It’s part of the reason why he has proposed going on a little trip to Liyue Harbor. Perhaps if all goes well, he’ll allow more trips out of the private domain. All supervised by his watchful eye, of course.
After a few moments of stunned surprise, you finally have the courage to speak. “I-I’d love to. Thank you, Zhongli,” you say quietly. Zhongli smiles, leaning to press a delicate kiss to your lips.
“You are very welcome, my treasure,” he whispers, a hand reaching to cup your face; his thumb reaches to brush your lips tenderly.
He can tell that you are still afraid of him, fearful that he will hurt you again. No matter. One day, Zhongli hopes, you will shed your fear like a caterpillar in chrysalis, and emerge into a glittering world full of Zhongli’s love for you.
#yandere#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere genshin#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere zhongli#yandere zhongli x reader#cries in sleep deprivation#i have a calc test tomorrow sobs#this is also probably not a slay but we live#why was the title the hardest thing to write like#still not happy with it tbh#will probably change it#well besides the dialogue#dialogue is my enemy fr#im going to sleep
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Heaven is here
Old Crosshair x f!reader
Rating: Explicit
Wordcount: 4.5k
Summary:
You live on Pabu together with your husband Crosshair, it’s been many years since you turned your back on the war in the galaxy and decided to build a peaceful life together on the Island. Don’t be deceived by the domestic fluff, this is filthy smut.
Notes:
Sooooo…I know you’re all waiting for my Old Hunter fic but what can I say, when this art dropped my hand slipped and here we are with over 4k Crosshair smut and fluff. There’s oral f recieving, unprotected sex, Crosshair is a tease as always. I don’t even know how to tag this, domestic kink? Wife kink ? Is it dubcon if he gives you more orgasms than you think you can take? Also Tech lives, because he does and I will die on that hill. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and for all my Hunter girlies (gn) don’t worry I have not one but two drafts ready to go over.
Even with the risk of another sea surge, you and Crosshair took on the challenge of rebuilding a house in Lower Pabu many years ago. Perched atop a substantial rock, it offered seclusion, tranquility, and an unparalleled view of the ocean—a retreat away from the lively upper streets, precisely what you both had wanted when you decided to move in together. With your own private beach cove accessible from the terrace, and ample space for a garden around, it was a dream, that would have been impossible to fulfill in bustling Upper Pabu. Despite the misconceptions perpetuated by others, over the countless years of marriage, your love and attraction for each other have not faded; instead, they have grown deeper and stronger with time. You love the peaceful life you built together, as a former Jedi you had your fair share of war time yourself and when you arrived here you never looked back. If you are not occupied with helping the refugees on the island heal from their traumas, you spend most days swimming, cooking, baking and tending to the garden.
Today is a quiet Benduday morning, the weather is wonderful like almost always here on the island and you're already up, allowing Crosshair to sleep in after a late-night fishing trip with his brothers.
After your usual reviving morning swim, you whirl through the house and refresh the guest room's sheets, and the blanket in Batchers basket, so Omega can stay overnight whenever she wants. Occasionally, also Hunter stays for a night or two, seeking respite for his heightened senses, when he gets too overwhelmed or just wants to spend a quiet evening with Crosshair.
Preparations for the weekly family dinner, a tradition that you hold dearly since many years and rotate with Phee and Wrecker's partner, are well underway. Wrecker's favorite cookies bake in the oven, Techs favored wine is already in the fridge and the fully opened expansive glass doors, leading to the terrace and garden, invite in a refreshing ocean breeze, accompanied by your favorite tunes—a perfect start to the day, just how you like it.
With Crosshair seemingly still asleep, you choose to whip up his favorite pancakes for breakfast, relishing in the soft flow of the morning. As you gather all the ingredients und cut up the first Jogan fruits of the season, from your garden, you can't help but smile, grateful for the bliss of this idyllic day. You often spend time with the others but family dinner days are the best because everyone makes an effort to be there, even Echo comes by when he’s around and it’s always chaotic and fun. You decide to make some juice, a platter of fruit and finish up the pancakes before you go wake your husband, humming along and dancing around as you swirl through the big open kitchen.
*************
As the sun ascends higher in the sky, its warm rays peek through the bedroom curtains, gently nudging Crosshair from his slumber. Stretching lazily, he finds himself alone in bed, the absence of your warmth prompting him to go look for you. When he realizes the delicious aroma of fresh fruit and cookies fills the air, teasing his senses and drawing him downstairs, he already knows where to find you.
The last days were unusually hot even for Pabu, so he opts for a pair of lightweight black linen pants and skips a shirt for now as he makes his way down to the lower floor of your home. Passing by the guest room, he notices the neatly made bed and fresh sheets, a display of your thoughtfulness towards his siblings, who occasionally like to stay over. That you care for them as much as he does is something he always deeply loved about you.
Arriving down in the main living area with the big open kitchen, that you wanted and he was happy to build for you, he's greeted by the sight of you, happily moving through the space in one of his shirts, loosely cascading around your curves. Your hair, still slightly damp from the morning swim and wavy from the salt water adds to your radiant aura as you hum along to the melody of your favorite song. The scene before him fills him with a profound sense of contentment and he pauses, taking a moment to soak in the beauty of the moment, grateful for the life you've built together. It's a scene he never imagined could be his reality, and he still finds himself savoring every moment of it, cherishing the warmth and comfort of home in your loving presence.
************
As you begin to mix the batter, the vibrant aroma of baked goods and fresh garden fruits wafts through the air, filling the kitchen with a delightful scent. The table on the terrace is already set with two big glasses of fresh juice and an assortment of fruits harvested from your garden, ready to complement the morning meal.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps on the stairs interrupts your daydreaming, and you glance up to see Crosshair descending.
His distinguished grey locks cascade in gentle waves, slightly tousled from a long night and his linen pants hang effortlessly low on his hips, accentuating his body in all the right places. Despite the passage of time, he remained as lean and sculpted as ever. After experimenting for a while and despite Echos half serious attempts to convince him a scomp link would be best, he opted for a detachable cybernetic hand covered with a skin like texture, some days he likes to cover it with a glove and some days he prefers to not wear the attachment at all. The scars that once marked his skin have faded with the years, becoming mere whispers of the battles he's fought and the challenges he's overcome and the line of soft grey hair tracing a path down his belly never fails to draw your attention.
Gazing upon him, you're overcome with a surge of love and admiration for the man before you. Despite the inevitable march of age, he still exudes an undeniable beauty and sexiness and the effect he has on you only seems to deepen with time.
He leans against the dining table, a soft smile gracing his lips as he watches you dance around the kitchen, humming along to the lyrics of the song.
"You're like a dream," he says, his voice filled with admiration.
You glance over at him, a playful twinkle in your eye.
"Join me," you invite him, extending your hand.
With a chuckle, he shakes his head. "I'd rather watch you dance. You're mesmerizing."
As the song fills the air, you swirl around getting the cookies out of the oven, your movements perfectly synchronized with the music.
Crosshair's gaze never leaves you, his admiration visible in every glance. He knows that moments like these, watching you dance with such joy and abandon, are something truly special.
“…hmm…mhh…heaven is here if you want it…mhh..”
As the song reaches its peak, you sing along with passion, your voice intertwining with the singers.
"…all gilded and golden, yes, I'm your girl…Hell, if it glitters I'm going…," you sing, your voice ringing clear and true.
Crosshair's smile widens, his heart swelling with love and pride as he watches you, his partner, his wife, embracing life with unbridled enthusiasm and determination despite all you’ve been through.
"…hmm…with my gun in my hand, you know I always get my man..." you hum.
With a gentle smile, he approaches you, enveloping you in a tender embrace from behind before pressing his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. His head rests against yours as he inhales deeply, savoring the comforting scent that surrounds you both.
“I love you so much,” he whispers.
You dip your finger in the pancake batter and offer him a taste, letting him lick it from your fingers with a wide grin.
"Mm, Jogan pancakes…my favorite…you spoil me" he remarks with a smile, clearly enjoying the indulgent treat.
"They just started ripening in the garden, I picked the first ones this morning", you add watching as he savors the flavor.
“Let me help you, what can I do?”
"No, no. Go sit on the terrace, my love. I'll bring the pancakes and fresh caff in just a few minutes. Enjoy the sun before it gets too hot outside."
With a final lingering kiss, he reluctantly releases you and makes his way out onto the terrace, the sunlight casting a warm glow upon his features as he steps out, greeted by the inviting sight of the table already adorned with freshly squeezed juice and an array of meticulously cut fruits. The cushions in the lounge area are all arranged with care, and the blankets neatly folded. He flops down onto one of the big cushions, contentment washing over him as he takes in the salty breeze.
Through the open floor to ceiling terrace windows, he watches you move happily around the kitchen, effortlessly stacking the pancakes onto a large plate. The love he feels for you swells within him, a profound gratitude for the care and affection you shower upon him and his family and it’s not something you feel obliged to do but it actually makes you happy. It's a feeling he never grows accustomed to, despite all the years, he’s sometimes still in disbelief that he could be so blessed.
But this morning, there's a special glow about you, an aura of warmth and love that envelops everything you do, and he feels his cock growing hard in his pants watching you. As you reach up to retrieve the caff from the upper shelves, the hem of your shirt, his shirt, rides up, revealing a glimpse of your beautiful soft ass and he inhales sharply when he realizes you're wearing absolutely nothing underneath.
With each movement you make, each delicate gesture, he feels a surge of desire building within him. Unable to resist any longer, he begins palming himself through his pants, his arousal growing as he gives in to the intoxicating effect you have on him.
*************
The pancakes are done, each one perfectly cooked and stacked high on a nice plate. You pour two cups of freshly brewed caff, adding a drop of sweet syrup and a splash of blue milk to your own before gathering everything up and making your way out onto the terrace. As you step outside, you find Crosshair basking in the sunlight, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his body, his gaze lingering on you with an unmistakable hunger and a prominent bulge evident in his pants, that really don’t do a good job in hiding it.
When he sees you approaching he gets up and with a few steps he is right before you wrapping one arm around you, immediately sliding under your shirt and squeezing your ass, taking the plate and cups from you with the other hand.
He sets them down on the table, before quickly indulging in a sip of his caff. Then, without hesitation, he scoops you up into his arms, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss as he lowers you both onto the cushions, pulling you on top of him so that you are straddling him.
"Sorry love, forgive me but breakfast will have to wait," he says with a desire burning in his eyes.
With a swift motion, he removes your shirt, leaving you completely exposed to the warming rays of the sun. His eyes roam over your naked form, appreciating every curve and contour as your hair falls in soft waves around your shoulders. His touch is gentle yet possessive as his hands explore your body, his desire undeniable in the hardness pressing against your stomach.
"Do you know how utterly perfect you are?" he murmurs, his voice laced with adoration. "Always so good to me, always caring, always loving."
Before you can respond, his lips find yours once more, his tongue pleading for access before before he starts trailing down your neck with hungry open mouthed kisses and soft bites that will surely leave a mark. Despite the many years, he still enjoys marking you as a silent affirmation of your bond.
Crosshair's touch ignites a fire within you as he begins to explore your body with his hands and lips. His kisses are soft and teasing, further trailing down from your neck to your chest where he cups your breasts, massaging them with skillful fingers. You gasp as he takes one of your nipples between his lips, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before giving it a gentle nip.
"Oh, Cross," you moan, your voice a breathy plea as his ministrations send waves of pleasure coursing through you.
He hums in response, his hands continuing their sensual assault on your body as he moves to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. His touch is both tender and demanding, each caress fueling your desire and you can already feel how wet you are getting.
"Stars, you're so beautiful…mmh…let me take care of you" he whispers, his voice husky with desire as he gazes up at you with a hunger that leaves you weak in the knees.
Before you can fully process his words, Crosshair swoops you up, effortlessly lifting you until you are straddling his face.
“Mmh…so fucking beautiful”
Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his warm breath against your core, his tongue darting out to taste you.
"Fuck," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, one hand reaching out, desperately searching for something to hold on to, as he begins to lick and suckle at your sensitive flesh. Each stroke of his tongue sends shivers of pleasure racing through your body, building the tension coiled tight within you.
“Stars…you’re so wet for me….let me make you feel good” he murmurs between two painfully slow licks up and down your folds, the vibration of his voice sending a jolt through your core.
"Please," you whimper, arching your back as Crosshair's tongue works its magic. "I need your fingers inside me…or your cock"
He lifts his head, glancing up at you from underneath, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. "Not yet, love," he says, his voice husky with desire. "I want to make you come first."
You moan in frustration, but his lips descend once more, and all coherent thoughts evaporate and your mind goes blank when he starts sucking on your clit.
Crosshair's movements are relentless, his tongue dancing over your clit with a practiced rhythm that leaves you teetering on the brink of release. He knows exactly how to push you to the edge, his touch driving you wild with need. His hands get a hold of your hips pushing you further down onto him.
"Fuck," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair. "I'm so close."
"Come for me, and I promise I’ll fuck you however you want," he growls, the vibration of his voice sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. "Just let go and give me everything."
His words are the final push you needed, the dam of pleasure breaking as you tumble over the edge into bliss. Your back arches, a guttural cry escaping your lips as you ride out the waves of ecstasy crashing over you, your pussy clenching around nothing leaving you desperate to be filled.
Crosshair continues to devour you, his firm grip on your hips steadying you so you don’t fall over and his tongue working tirelessly to prolong your pleasure until you are a panting and whimpering mess in his arms. As you come down from your high, he gently lowers you back onto the cushions, his hands caressing your trembling body with infinite tenderness.
"You're incredible," he murmurs, wiping away the remnants of your juices on his face and pressing soft kisses against your skin as he holds you close. "I'm so lucky to have you."
You smile, your heart overflowing with love for the man who knows just how to make you feel alive. But your whole body thrums with need, your pussy throbbing with desire after his skilled tongue brought you to the brink of ecstasy, even as your mind reels from the intensity of your orgasm, the ache for his cock remains.
"Don’t forget you promised me something" you whisper.
"Tell me, darling," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. "Tell me what you want."
Your breath catches in your throat as you struggle to form words amidst the lingering haze of your orgasm.
"I need you inside me," you manage to gasp, your voice thick with need. "I need you to fuck me, Crosshair. Please."
No matter if it starts with him being the one who’s horny, he always manages to make you the one begging to be fucked.
“How do you want me?” he asks, his fingers trailing down between your dripping folds, pressing against your entrance, desperately aching for his attention.
You can barely form coherent thoughts with him teasing you like this.
“Just…ahhh…just fuck me…please…Cross, fill me up”
With a satisfied grin, he scoops you up from the cushions, his strength and desire obvious as he bends you over the terrace railing. Your heart races as he positions you, your naked body exposed and vulnerable to his every whim. Gripping the railing for support, you arch your back, presenting yourself to him in all your glory.
"Stars, this IS the best view in whole Pabu" Crosshair groans, his voice thick with desire as he quickly sheds his pants and lines himself up with your dripping core, his tip deliciously pressing against you and a sharp slap landing on one of your cheeks.
"So fucking perfect."
You let out a lewd moan, when he slowly slides into you. His big cock stretching you in all the right ways until he is fully sheathed. It’s a feeling you can never get enough of.
You arch into him, making sure you take him as deep as possible. It feels incredibly good to finally get what you wanted, to be so full of him, but he doesn't move. Instead, he teases you, his fingers finding your clit, pinching and rubbing it in just the right way to send shivers down your spine.
"Please, Cross," you beg, your voice thick with need. "Move... I need you to move." the ache between your legs growing more furious with each passing moment.
He grins, enjoying the desperation in your voice, but he doesn't relent just yet. Instead, he slaps your ass, the sound muted by the waves crushing beneath you.
"Stars, I love it when you're so needy," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as he bends over you.
You whimper in response and finally, he begins to move, slow and deliberate at first, savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him. But as your pleas grow louder, more desperate, he picks up the pace, thrusting into you with increasing urgency.
Your body starts trembling as he thrusts into you with relentless force. Each powerful stroke sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, driving you closer to the edge with every movement.
Crosshair's hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements as he pounds into you with primal need. "That's it, baby," he grunts, his voice ragged with lust. "Take me. Take all of me."
Your senses reel as pleasure consumes you, the rhythm of his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Your body responds eagerly, meeting his every stroke with unrestrained enthusiasm as you surrender yourself to him completely.
"Oh, fuck, Crosshair," you cry out, your voice a symphony of pleasure as he drives you to the brink once more. "I’m close, don’t stop."
He doesn't hesitate to comply, his thrusts becoming even more forceful as he drives you towards another mind-shattering orgasm. With each powerful stroke, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, the pleasure building to a fever pitch as you chase release.
And when it finally crashes over you, it's like a tidal wave of pleasure, washing over you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. But even as you come apart in his grip, Crosshair shows no signs of slowing down, mercilessly fucking you through your high.
“Cross… slow down, it….it’s too much.. please” you whimper, your voice barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin and the waves crash on the rocks beneath you.
But he's unrelenting, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you with a hunger that borders on desperation.
“No love, I want you to give me another one, I know you can do it” he growls, his words laced with desire as he continues to drive you toward another peak of pleasure.
With each powerful thrust, he pushes you closer to the edge, his hands roaming over your body as he praises you.
"Fuck, you're so hot," he grunts, his voice rough with lust. "You're doing so good for me."
His words send a thrill of excitement coursing through you, spurring you on to new heights of ecstasy.
He punctuates his praise with sharp slaps to your ass, the sting mingling with the pleasure to create a sensation that leaves you dizzy with desire.
"I know you like that…" he groans, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he continues to pound into you. "… my fucking beautiful wife, taking me so well."
You can only moan in response, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as he drives you relentlessly toward another orgasm.
“Now come for me, I… I want to feel this beautiful pussy of yours…clenching around my cock”
He watches you with hungry eyes, his own release growing closer with each passing moment, his thrust becoming sloppy and his cock tightening up even more.
“Let me make you come undone," he urges, his voice a husky growl as he thrusts into, lifting your hips, slightly changing the angle to pound against your most sensitive spot.
With his encouragement, you let go, your body wracked with pleasure as you tumble over the edge once more. And when you come, when that tension in your core snaps, your mind goes completely blank and all sounds fade into the distance. This state of mind is something you only reached in your active days, mid battle, when you had to center yourself in the force and with him. If it’s possible to become one with the force, this is how it has to feel.
Crosshair follows you shortly after, his own climax ripping through him as he feels you clenching hard around his cock and he spills himself inside you, his orgasm mingling with yours in a symphony of passion. You collapse against the railing, spent, sated and panting, your mind blissfully blank as you bask in the last waves washing over you and the afterglow of your lovemaking begins to settle in. Luckily he is holding you steady against him, as your shaking legs begin failing to hold you up.
Together, you hear the waves crashing on the rocks below, the sound a soothing backdrop. In that moment, with Crosshair's arms wrapped tightly around you, you feel complete, your body humming with satisfaction as you revel in the pleasure of being thoroughly and completely ravished by the man you love.
His touch is tender as he lowers you back onto the cushions, your legs still unwilling to support your weight.
He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before he disappears into the house but it doesn’t take long until he returns with a damp towel in his hands to clean you up.
He lowers himself back down on the cushions beside you, his fingers trailing gently over your skin.
“I love you so much” he murmurs looking at you, and you could loose yourself in his eyes, so full of love and adoration for you. He wasn’t good with expressing his feelings when you met but his eyes always told the truth.
“I love you too Cross” you say, cupping his jaw and pressing a soft kiss on his lips.
“Let me clean you up and get our breakfast over here,” he whispers with a satisfied grin.
With a loving care that fills your heart to the brim, he wipes away the traces of his cum that is leaking from your core and trailing down your legs, his touch soothing and intimate.
Once he's satisfied that you're clean and comfortable, he turns his attention to the abandoned food, gathering up the plates of fruit and pancakes and cups of caff that were left forgotten in the throes of passion, bringing them over to where you lay on the cushions. With a soft smile playing at his lips, he begins to feed you.
"Here, darling," he murmurs, his voice soft and affectionate as he offers you a piece of pancake. "Let me take care of you."
You accept his offering eagerly, too blissed out to eat by yourself, savoring the taste of the sweet syrup and fluffy pastry as Crosshair feeds you with a tenderness that takes your breath away. With each bite and sip, you feel the life coming back into your body and the warmth of his love enveloping you, wrapping you in a cocoon of blissful contentment.
As you eat, you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking, the lingering effects of three mind shattering orgasms still thrumming through your veins. The terrace is bathed in sunlight, the gentle breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean as it rustles through the air. In this moment, with your husband by your side, you feel completely and utterly at peace.
Together, you eat and laugh and as the last of the pancakes disappear and the caff is drained from your cups, you lean into Crosshair's embrace, savoring the feeling of his arms around you. In the quiet intimacy of your terrace, you revel in the simple joy of being together, your hearts beating as one in perfect harmony.
With a content sigh, you rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. In this moment, surrounded by his love and warmth, you know that there's nowhere else you'd rather be than here, in the arms of the man who completes you in every way imaginable.
#crosshair smut#give this man a wife#he deserves everything#the bad batch#star wars#tbb#the bad batch season 3#tbb crosshair#bad batch fanfic#bad batch smut#tbb smut#crosshair x reader#crosshair x you#soft dom crosshair#old crosshair#the bad batch happy on pabu#tbb pabu#pabu crosshair
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How the Rhodolite princes would react to their firstborn/newborn
Rating: PG-13 (?) Ikepri itself contains a lot of mature themes however, as such, mdni 🔞
Warnings: Brief mentions of (past) character death, grief, pregnancy/childbirth themes (no actual birth depicted), gn but implied afab, & the usual tragic Ikepri cannon.
A/N: Tried to write how they'd hold their kid and what they were feeling when meeting them. Spoiler warnings for the Rhodolite princes routes, tried not to bring up anything major though (Luke's is probably the most spoilery?). Tried to keep the princes' spouses GN, though implied afab bc newborns. (One very brief mention of Belle, but mc/reader is not Emma.) Might eventually make pt2 with the others..? Please read the warnings and proceed only if comfortable! :)
(Apologies for anything that seems ooc, I haven't written much in awhile and this is my first piece for Ikepri! I'm more used to fics rather than hcs, but I tried my best! o7)
JIN 🦅
There's so much Jin can't help but worry about. His past, his future, his country... and now he's got not one but two loved ones he would do anything for. The little bundle of joy in his arms reminds him of the times when his younger brothers were born, and how cute they used to be (well, some of them, anyway). The bleary, garnet eyes trying to look into his own have him wondering.. is this how he looked to his dear mother? There's so much he cherishes, and so much he fears, but he won't let the history of Belle repeat itself. He'd fight the entire palace if he had to, but for right now, he'll settle for tackling pesky burps and dirty diapers. Jin coos at his baby, baritone voice suddenly startling the poor thing, and he can't help but pout. The baby in his arms continues to fuss, feeling hungry.
Jin pulls something out of his breast pocket, looking over at his spouse. "So.. how much longer until they can have lollipops?"
CHEVALIER 🐅
Chevalier would likely be a bit awed upon holding his firstborn, much like the quiet way he takes in Emma's precence. Chevalier is known to be awkward with his affections, as he's far from practiced, but it's been shown on several occasions how he tries to gently pet an animal that dares to come close, or how he clumsily takes care of his love when she's feeling under the weather. He may look fine on the outside, but he's actually quite hesitant, trying to sort things out logistically at first, before sort of just settling for standing there and holding his newborn with both arms. He stares down at their gentle features, taking in every detail, making sure they're comfortable and warm in their sleep.
Looking over at his beloved in all their tired glory, in his very own Chevalier-approved affection he says, "You did well, Simpleton." While he only speaks four words aloud, his faint smile speaks the thousands he didn't quite know how to express.
CLAVIS 🐆
"Dearie me," Clavis says, holding his newborn, full of wide-eyed excitement. "They look so much like you, I can see the bunny ears already."
Being someone who values life so dearly, bringing a new one into this world, with the love of his life no less, is enough to send Clavis' heart soaring into the stratosphere. He just can't help but want to drown them in affection, but they're so small and fragile, and Clavis knows better than to risk scaring them now. He's so, so gentle with his child, unconditional love flowing off him in waves as they bond quietly (please don't get used to this, it will not last), and looks upon their splotchy tufts of lilac hair. The Lelouch genes live on through yet another generation, he smiles to himself. Clavis slowly comes over to stand by his love, placing a gentle kiss on their head.
"You're so lucky to have such a wonderful husband like me. But I'm even luckier to have you both in my life."
LEON 🦁
The happiest day in Leon's life. Second only to your wedding. Scratch that, the wedding is second.. he thinks. He's a bit frazzled from work, labor stress, and all the chaos, cut the guy some slack. No one is immune to this sweet lion's charisma, not even a newborn. They can't help but stare at his flowy hair and bright eyes, like a cartoon character come to life right before their eyes. Leon gently caresses their neck, very lightly pressing a kiss into their soft kiss to their temple. What kind of person will they grow up to be? Will they eat as much as he does? Will they fall asleep when they read too? There's a lot that runs through his mind, but ultimately, he is hopes for them to be healthy, and live happily. This child is going to be absolutely spoiled (within reason), and always have someone in their corner, rooting for them and ready to help learn from their wrongs. For now, he can worry about righting their posture instead. He tries to hold them like he read (how his partner read) in the parenting books, supporting their necks and all. It was really hard to stay awake during those, but the excitement of fatherhood helped him push through, and he's going to put it all into practice now.
"When do we start working on the second one?" (If not for the literal newborn currently in his hands, he'd be busy dodging several pillows.)
YVES 🐈
There's a lot of suppressed guilt for his mother's death in mind, and so many worries for his darling's health before, during, and after. He's a bit scared to hold his newborn, for fear of his clumsiness and "bad luck". With some assurance, he finally takes hold of them, and he could not physically be more careful with his firstborn. Clear eyes like the sky blink sleepily up at him, and Yves is fighting back tears solely for fear of them landing on the baby and somehow hurting them. The smile on his face could split his cheeks if it got any wider. The baby falls asleep in its father's arms, and he even tries breathing softer so he won't wake them. He's just trying his best, please reassure this sweet cat, he means well. (And he absolutely lost the battle against those blasted tears anyway.)
"Thank you for loving me, and for bringing our child into the world with us. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
LICHT 🐺
(Twins having twins cliché may seem redundant, I made 'em different for each brother, pinky promise.)
Licht was blessed with not one but two bundles of joy. Beautiful twin boys, who had what looked to be his vibrant silver hair and his beloved's eyes. He couldn't help the memories that surged, of happier times, and the worst of times. He knew all too well just how ruthless the court could be, but he had a chance to make things different this time. Licht seriously considered building that house he'd once mentioned, and moving you all somewhere much more peaceful. One twin in his arms, one with their other parent, he feels all thought subside when the one he's holding tries to grab at his sleeve. Licht's now-famous smile blooms across his lips much the way the sun's rays appear over daybreak; subtle, then all at once. He takes a gloveless hand, letting their tiny hand hold onto his finger as best they can, eyes gleaming from the sight before him. Licht looks over in wonder at his spouse, only to find them already watching with a tired, quiet smile.
"Things won't be easy but.. I know we can handle anything. I adore you. And I adore them."
NOKTO 🦊
(Twins for both may seem redundant, but I changed things up drastically ok, we got this.)
Nokto wasn't entirely surprised to have twins, but he had also hoped luck would be in their corner in avoiding similar fates. Two little girls, jewel-like eyes like his, and his beloved's hair color (or so it appears, though it's hard to tell for sure with so little peach fuzz). Nokto sits at the edge of the bed, holding one newborn in his arm, and reaching his other hand out for the one in his love's arms. Aside from the memories of his own upbringing, he's now having Typical Girl Dad thoughts about how to keep them safe and teach them how to stay away from cooties (boys), among other things. With a soft sigh, he gently burps his newborn after she's done feeding, rocking her slowly as she tries to chew on her father's lucious locks. Laughter bubbles past his lips at her cute antics, and Nokto feels the stress fade away, even if just a little. His heart is still getting used to receiving love and believing in it, but it's grown enough by now to love his 3 new favorite people in the world.
"If they like my hair this much now, just wait till they start to grow their own."
LUKE 🐻
Luke could not be more the picture of a teddy bear than with his newborn all swaddled up and snuggled in with their giant of a dad. He can't help but wonder if his sister is watching over them, laying next to his spouse on the bed, their newborn but a tiny dot among the two full-grown humans taking up most of the space. He promises to be there for his child the way he never really had anyone, and hopes to live more in the present now, the stakes feeling higher than ever before. A whole new life, created on purpose, gently resting in one arm and atop his broad chest, nestled comfortably and trying to suck on their thumb. Luke holds his spouse's hand with his free one, squeezing it gently, looking into their eyes with the intensity of his own emeralds.
"Look at 'em.. they're so small. Just like you," he jokes before letting out a big yawn, "But sleepy, just like me."
All rights for the characters and original intellectual property belong to Cybird. My writing belongs to myself, Maladaptivedaydreamsx, and shall not be reproduced elsewhere without permission. Ok to translate as a reblog to this post. Ok to reblog, no permission required (for those who like to be safe and ask first, all's good little homies) 💜
If you enjoyed these, I might try to make a pt2 with the other characters soon? Likes and reblogs appreciated, thank you kindly for reading! If you have any hc's of your own, please feel free to respond with them, I'd love to hear what you all think! 😊❤️ (If you'd like to be put on a tag list for any future works, please reply, though it will be a general list for writings as I'm getting back into things slowly atm,, 🙏🏻)
Also, to the lovely person who sent this in likely about 2 years ago (after I'd stopped writing on here bc life happens) ... if you're still somewhere in the fandom and end up seeing this post, thank you for your patience, and for sending something in. I'm finally trying to combat the writer's block again! 🙌🏻
#ikepri headcanons#ikepri x reader#ikepri fanfic#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen prince fanfiction#ikepri jin#ikepri chevalier#ikepri clavis#ikepri leon#ikepri yves#ikepri licht#ikepri nokto#ikepri luke#jin grandet#chevalier michel#clavis lelouch#leon dompteur#yves kloss#licht klein#nokto klein#luke randolph#ikemen fanfic#ikemen series#mon écriture 💌#aerin.writings#my post 📫#l'hôtel.ikepri#l'hôtel.écriture#aerin.fics
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X-Men Fic (Rogue/Gambit) : Toys
A/N: Yes, this was inspired by that clip that's been going around of Gambit's VA for XM97 playing with action figures. I cannot believe this is what I'm writing for my first real fic for this fandom. Dear lord, forgive me for the shenanigans... also, unbeta'd. I just wanted to get it out into the world and be done with it.
I'll post this tomorrow on Ao3
Rated: T for suggestiveness
Summary: Rogue catches Remy playing with toy action figures of the X-Men. Shenanigans. Set in the 616 comic verse, but some fun meta-y references to XM97
****
Toys
Upon arriving home, Rogue comes in through the open kitchen window because why bother with stairs when you can fly? It’s been a long day, a long week, a long life… All she wants to do is curl up on the couch with the cats and a trashy book and hopefully Remy’s home so she can get a back massage. Hell, forget the book, she’ll gamble for the massage first. Save the trashy for later.
She grins, thinking about her husband’s warm hands on skin.
Remy is, indeed, home; standing at the kitchen island, his back turned towards the window, so engrossed in what he’s doing that he doesn’t hear her come in. And what he’s doing takes her by surprise.
The kitchen counter is covered in half open boxes, plastic containers, cardboard, and little zip ties. There are a good, half-dozen or so action figures all lined up in a semicircle; each one of them a well detailed, classically designed replica of, well… the X-Men. Oh, dear god, what did she walk into?
“I’ll take ya down in one slice, bub,” Remy says, holding the Wolverine figurine in one hand, his voice low as he attempts Logan’s gruff voice. Remy LeBeau is good at a lot of things, Rogue would be first to give you a list, but doing impressions is not one of them. She bites her lip, fascinated to see how this plays out. Remy grabs the Magento figurine as his voice shifts to imitate Erik. “You incels!” Remy screams; loud, exaggerated, and carefully enunciated. “How dare you try to take down me; the questionably dressed, ego too big for my helmet, Master of Magnetism?”
Rogue puts a hand up to her lips, holding back an amused snort. Oh, Remy…
Remy loses the impression as he lunges the Wolverine figurine at the Magneto one. The Magneto one floats away. “You fools! Don’ you remember I control the metal?” Shaking the Wolverine figurine violently, Remy lets out a feral scream and the figure is flung to the side, landing with a clatter in the sink.
Magneto is discarded for a moment as Remy picks up the Scott and Jean figurines. Scott has his hand to his visor while Jean has both her hands on the sides of her head. “Jean! I seem to have made a tactical error,” Remy cries in Scott’s no-nonsense voice. His voice then slides higher as he mimics Jean. “Scott, my telepathy. It out o’ whack! Oh, Scott!... Jean!… SCOTT!.... JEAN!!”
Rogue is dying inside. She holds herself tightly, trying as hard as she can not to burst out laughing.
Scott and Jean are shuffled into one hand as Remy picks up the Magneto figurine again. “Enough of this!” Remy says, back in the Magneto voice. He then lets out another dramatic scream as he tosses the Scott and Jean figurines onto the pile of boxes, scaring Oliver, who had been inspecting one of the twist ties.
He picks up the Storm figurine next, raising her arms to the ceiling. “An’ now you deal with Stormy, who will smite you with her lightning blasts.” He jolts the Storm hands into Magneto, making little sound effect lightning blasts as he does so. “Fool, I am impervious to lightning… How dat possible? Lightning an’ magnetism are not the same thing!... I can control static electricity!... Dat…still don’ make any sense!... Begone, weather witch!”
Rogue has tears in her eyes. She’s biting her lip so hard, it’s beginning to hurt. Thankfully, Remy is so lost in his make believe world that he can’t hear her snickering.
The Storm figurine is placed gently face down on the counter as Remy picks up the Gambit figurine. Rogue’s eyes grow wide, intensely waiting to see how this will play out…
“Ohh, you goin’ down now, mon ami,” Remy’s voice grows low and serious. He starts making explosion sound effects, as if the Gambit figurine is throwing little playing cards at the Magneto one. Remy then throws his head back in a villainous laugh as he goes back to the Magneto voice. “You seriously think a few mild explosions could ever touch me?”
Remy stops, and grins that cocky, beautiful grin of his. “Non, but it enough to keep you distracted.” He starts turning the Magneto figurine around, as if it’s confused. “See, I always gotta ace up my sleeve.”
In a quick second, he drops the Gambit figurine, and grabs the Rogue one. Her arm is out, one leg up, poised to fly. Remy slams the fist of the Rogue figurine into the Magneto one’s head. “Howdy, sugah.”
Rogue tilts her head, amused. Remy’s imitation of her own voice is so comically off, and yet incredibly endearing.
“How ‘bout you leave my family alone!” The Rogue figurine crashes into the Magneto one again. This time, Remy charges the Magneto figurine, causing it to glow purple. He tosses the charged Magneto figurine up, letting it explode in mid-air with a bang. The charred remains drop to the counter with a clang before it bounces into the trash next to the counter.
Remy then picks up the Gambit figurine and brings it in close to the Rogue one. “Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are when you’re punching people, chere?...Why don’t you shut up and kiss me, Remy…” Remy starts clicking the faces of the two figurines together, making little kiss-y noises and ‘mwa’ sounds as the action figures ‘make out’.
Rogue grins wildly, expecting nothing less. She crosses her arms across her chest, casually walking forward to let her presence be known. “Whatcha doing, sugah?”
Remy gives a startled jump, the figurines dropping out of his hand with a clatter. He’s not the least bit sorry he’s been caught, however, a devilish grin quickly sliding onto his lips. “Jus’ havin’ a bit of fun testing some of these toys that show sent us.” Rogue picks the destroyed Magneto figurine out of the trash. “Some of dem defective,” he says slyly.
“Defective huh?” She drops the figurine unceremoniously back into the trash and comes in close, wrapping her arms around his neck. She knows the show is a sore spot, no matter how much free merch they’ve gotten from it lately. “You still salty about all that?”
He lets out a grumble, but still wraps himself around her, just the way she likes. “Don’ act like you wouldn’t be, too, if they killed you off like dat. Middle of the first season, too. What’d I do to deserve dat?”
“They just knew you were the best one.” She runs her fingers through his hair. “Who else gonna go out in a fiery blaze of heroism like that?”
He smirks, though she can still see a hint of sadness in his eyes. “It was pretty epic, non?”
“The best…” She draws him in for a kiss, sweet and gentle and comforting. “Forget that show, Remy. That ain’t our life. This is.” She kisses him again, a little bit harder, grounding herself in his embrace. He had tortured himself wanting to keep watching that show, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She didn’t want to imagine herself going down a path she would never recover from. “Besides…” she says, trying to keep it light. “I’m sure season two will have me pulling your pretty ass back from the dead one way or the other. And if it doesn’t, you best bet I’ll get those writers fired and write it myself.”
“I ever tell you how sexy you are when pulling me back from the dead?”
“Shut up and kiss me, Remy.” He does and they do. Forget the massage tonight, they’re going straight to the trashy. She’s hungry to feel him everywhere tonight.
They break apart once again, breathing heavily as Rogue leans her forehead against his. ��Hey, Remy?”
“Oui?”
“Why don’t we leave this mess for later and go play with some of the toys we’ve already got.”
He laughs into another kiss. “You always have de best ideas, chere…”
****
Later…
In the stillness of the night, long after Remy’s fallen asleep, Rogue gets up for a glass of water.
The kitchen is how they left it hours ago, a mess of trash and action figures scattered around the room. The cats had gotten into some of it. Poor Scott had fallen to the ground. She picks him up, placing him next to Jean, giving him a little pat as she does so.
She wants to ignore the others. Wants to ignore the strange sensation it is to have your likeness in toy form. Still, she’s drawn to the little action figure her. She picks it up, inspecting it. It’s her old green and yellow uniform, one she hasn’t worn in years. She doesn’t even know where it is, probably having been trashed in some long ago fight. Unsurprisingly, the boobs are a little too big, the waist a little too small, and the hair a bit ridiculous. But it’s oddly still her. A little version her.
She looks down to the Gambit figurine and smiles. The trench coat, the staff, the ridiculously abbed pink breast plate. The cocky little grin. They got his likeness perfectly. And yet it doesn’t even hold a candle to the real thing.
“Love ya, Remy,” she says softly, as she takes the Rogue figurine and gives the Gambit figurine a kiss with it. She laughs at her own silliness, but still takes a moment to place the figurines together, resting against each other, as they should be.
She grabs her water and turns off the light and heads back to the bedroom, where she’ll soon curl up against her husband and fall asleep.
#xmen#x men 97#(sorta)#rogue#gambit#romy#anna marie lebeau#remy lebeau#roguegambit#romy fic#xmen fic#idk what else to tag it#s.o. writes things#good lord it's late#maybe that's a good thing#i'll just put this out in the world and maybe one of you will find it humorous#please let me keep playing with the toys - i'm still learning
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ROTTMNT: Rain
A timid snapping turtle checks the art room of his little brother, making sure not to disturb him. Though, Michael didn’t take long to notice Raph sweating behind the corner.
“What’s up, Raphie?” Mikey calls out, pausing his brush stroke.
“Well, uhm..” Raph presses his index fingers together. “Do you have a minute?”
The box shell puts his brush down.
“Sure!”
While walking in, Raphael speaks up: “Donnie has been staring at the rain for hours. I kept askin’ him to come back inside, but he keeps saying that he’s fine and wants to stay. Can you talk to him?”
“Again, huh?” Stepping away from the canvas, he moves past his brother, giving him a reassuring shoulder tap.
“Sorry to lay this on you again.. you’re better at understandin’ him than me.”
“Don’t worry, Raph! The doctor is on it~!”
The two exchange a wholesome smile and wave.
Crawling out the lair, it didn’t take long to find Donatello. He sits on the edge of the nearest building. Soaked by the rain, he stares into the distance.
“Hey, D! How’s the weather?”
Though, Mikey didn’t even get a soft hum back. Even sharing the same ledge didn’t get the turtle doctor a response.
“I see.” Dangling his feet in the air, Mikey takes in the sounds of the rain and the gentle lights of the city.
“I know that rainy days calm you and that you can enjoy them for hours while zoning out. I get that. I zone out while I paint.” Leaning forward to see Donnie’s face, he adds: “But it’s time to go inside now, kay?”
Donnie’s shifts his focus back to his brother. Still in a daze he nods, he wants to speak up as well, but no sound comes out.
“It’s ok. You don’t have to talk. You’re just a tad overwhelmed. Just nod or shake your head. Using sign language is fine, too!” Mikey shows a wide grin.
Donnie smiles back, knowing that Mikey is the only one that can hear him, even when he can’t vocalise.
“Are you ready to go?”
Donnie uses sign language to say: “Yes.”
“Great! Now, how does a warm bath sound? Because if you get a cold, Raph is gonna be mega mad!” Mike imitates an explosion with fireworks. “Just like that!”
The soft shell signs in response: “Nobody can stay mad at you. It’s fact.”
“Aw, shucks, D~.” Mikey gives his shy brother a playful elbow nudge.
Both of them hop down to the sewer lid.
“Also, a warm bath sounds nice..” Don signs before jumping into the sewers.
#ficlet~!#pb&j duo#I feel like these two can relate to each other in this#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt donnie#rise donatello#rise michelangelo#rottmnt raph#rise raphael#rise donnie#tmnt incorrect quotes#rottmnt incorrect quotes#rise raph#rise mikey
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My Man: Jey Uso
Jey. The frost on the window grew as the night sky was tucked into a dark grey cloud. You think back to the weatherman stating the forecast for this weekend: nothing but cold air dropping down to the low twenties. Usually, you were more of a spring person, but this cold weather was rubbing off on you. It was perfect. Perfect for cuddles, hot chocolate, sweaters, beanies, boots, and beautiful fall colors. A smile plastered onto your face as you stir the soup in the pot. You thought about who you'd be cuddling with, keeping you warm on these cold nights. Joshua Fatu is your amazing boyfriend that you've been with for three years now.
You met him at a friend's family gathering, and you two hit it off pretty well. Since that day three years ago, you two have been inseparable. You can honestly say you were in love with this man. As cliché as it sounds, he wasn't like the other men, not that there were many. You can count on one hand the men you've ever given a chance; that's how serious you were about protecting your peace, and by protecting your peace, you were protecting your heart.
Sometimes, you think back and laugh at the time men did the bare minimum and were expecting to get in between your legs. One guy had the nerve to think he was going to trap you into a situation ship, you turned him down immediately. You were about to give up on love because, honestly, the dating pool was looking shallow. Nowadays, everyone wants to be in situation ships, "Let's see where it goes," and "I'm not looking for anything serious, but I am into you." You didn't have time for that bullshit. If a man wasn't approaching you to settle down and build a future with you, he had no future. Not even friends. No, you weren't one of those hardcore women; you didn't mind being submissive to a man. Submission wasn't the issue; it was men thinking they could get away with the bare minimum, be manipulative, and still have a "yes woman." Sometimes, you honestly think some men hate women; they can't date their homeboys, so they settle. You had one call you every name in the book because you told him to let his homeboy stick his tip in since he hates women so much. You still laugh about that to this day.
But back to your man, you do love this man—that 6'2, brown-skinned, tattoo-covered man of yours. Baby, when I say he walked into this relationship ready, I mean he was ready. He told you immediately that you would be his wife one day, and you believed him. You feel a special connection with him. No trying to use you or neglect you. Just a grown man, on his mature man shit. Not only did he love you, but he loved being around and caring for you and vice versa. In a generation of people who can replace you and throw you to the side like dust, you will cherish your man who stays, communicates his needs, and is willing to work things out. Not only did he communicate his needs, he created a safe space for you to do the same. Additionally, he listened, comprehended, and never invalidated you. And you shared the responsibilities around the house because he didn't just assume them as yours only. A man like that you would submit to and let him lead because he knows how to be a leader.
The type of man to drop money in your account, no questions asked. The type to pop up at your job with flowers and lunch. The type to spoil you and make sure you never go without. The type to give emotional, physical, and financial support without feeling like you have to beg for it. The type to be intimate in more than just sex. Respected your "no" and never tried to manipulate. Although with you, you were always up for some love-making with Joshua. You didn't have to ask him to go deep because he knew how you liked it. You didn't have to force an orgasm because he'd have you cumming in more ways than one. You wanted to be fucked? He'd have you bent over the counter, and he gave you the best back shots. Wanted it nice and slow? He'd have your body rocking like a gentle wave as he made love to you.
You weren't just addicted to the physical aspect of sex, but rather to him. One touch from him electrified every nerve in your body. So it wasn't just sex; it was the true bond and expression of love for one another. He knew how to make your body react on command. His aura. Everything about him screamed maturity and love. The way your legs shook as he talked you through your orgasm had you throbbing at the night, potentially ending like that.
You honestly weren't asking for much, just to be loved and treated with love, loyalty, and respect, and you'd do the same. When your friends would shit on their men and complain, you didn't dare open your mouth. No, your man isn't perfect, but you sure weren't about to be dogging him in front of other people, especially women. The same ones encouraging you to leave your significant others will be those trying to get in their bed when you all are done. Besides you don't like people in your business anyway.
Simply put, that was your man.
You're zoned out as you stir the pot of lasagna soup that you almost don't hear his footsteps as he jogs down the stairs from your bedroom. You suddenly feel his presence behind you as you take in his subtle scent. Momentarily, you close your eyes and allow his scent to fill your nose. So soft, creamy, and seductive. He wraps his strong arms around you and pulls your back onto his front. He places a spine-tingling kiss on the most sensitive part of your neck. His gold chain leaves a chill on your neck as well.
"Mmm, hey baby, it smells good in here."
"Thank you, baby; I'm making lasagna soup, garlic bread, and a Caesar salad." You weren't the best cook, but you loved experimenting in the kitchen, and for the most part, you weren't terrible.
"Sounds good, I'll get the wine and set the table."
"Okay, baby, thank you." He grabs your chin, turns your face to his, and gently kisses your lips. One that has you molding into his body with ease. Just as quick as the kiss came, it left as he pulled away, and you were already missing his lips. "One more." You damn near beg. He licks his lips with a knowing smirk as he pats your hip.
"One more, and we won't be making it to dinner. I'll go set the table now." He says, pulling away. Shaking your head, you return to your pot with an unwavering smile.
My man.
#wwe smut#the bloodline#wwe fanfiction#jey uso smut#jey uso x reader#jey uso x black reader#main event jey uso#jey uso imagine#wwe bloodline#wwe x reader#jey uso fic
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Too Sweet (Part 1)
Stalker Professor!Cody Rhodes Stalker fem!OC
Desc- Zoe is a 23 year old enrolled into University who is well known across campus fr participating in Ballet & even auditioning for one of the most important roles of the year, but she seems to be quite infatuated with her professor without realizing he is 100x more infatuated and obsessed with her, the two grow a bond and soon realize they would do whatever it takes just to be happily together forever.
Contents- Fluff, Angst, Smut in some chapters, Use of Alcohol & Marijuana, Arguments, Soft/hard Dom x Bimbo like pairing, Mutual Stalking, Murder, Violence, Gore Details, Kidnapping, inspired of off the show ‘You’ & ‘Black Swan’
🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @cococodysleevlesshoodie
{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}
She was all he could ever think about, she was his perfect girl, she could do no wrong, she was always on time for lessons & homework, her essays were phenomenal, she was gorgeous, her dark brown eyes, her brunette hair that laid across her shoulders or flowed against her skin whenever she took a single step. Her voice smooth like honey, her smile as bright as the stars within the night sky, she was a ballet dancer & a perfect one at that. He was obsessed with her.
Zoe Caterina was the full of epitome of perfection to him, everything she did had such grace & class tied into it, she was his A+ girl, and he wouldn’t let anybody get in the way of that. No matter what.
Zoe was just obsessed with him as he was with her, His voice spoke in a delicate yet deep manner anytime he was teaching, his hand gliding over her arm sometimes when he went to her desk to examine her notes or whatever it was when she was enthralled into her homework.
The way he left sweet notes on the corner of her papers involve “I’m proud of you” “Good job sweetheart” “You did so good for me on this assignment.” She knew it wasn’t how he normally treated students, but that meant she was special, he found her special. She didn’t just want him, she needed him.
The way he entertained her flirting & even flirted back with her a little bit made her feel like she was melting slowly into a puddle, She needed him.
6:30 AM October 1st 2023, Connecticut
Zoe laid in her dorm that was shared with her bestfriend Alice who was staring down the T.V as the news repeated words of a murder scene that was being investigated on campus, Zoe huffed as she sat up on her bed “You think they’re gonna call today off?” Alice scoffed and ran her hand down her face before grabbing her coat “Fuck no. CTU Couldn’t give a single shit about this, I’m off to class anyways so that should answer your question.”
Zoe watched as Alice left the dorm leaving her by herself “Shit..” the brunette climbed her way out of bed and decided to wear something warm since fall had arrived & it was beginning to be a tad bit chilly.
Her only schedule for the day was to attend Mr Rhodes’ lesson for the day in Psychology which is what she was majoring in. After that she would then go to her daily ballet lesson she grew up taking per parents request. Zoe was a straight A student & made it clear to everyone that she would graduate and be a successful woman.
Zoe’s boots pattered against the semi damp concrete ground as a light rain came through, she inhaled the refreshing scent of rain & the fall weather all together and felt a wave of relaxation rush through her body before entering the lecture hall & making her way to class. She was always on time before everyone else so she could get the best seat in class for her comfortability, Mr Rhodes looked up from the assignments he was grading and watched as the young lady gently sat her bag down next to her seat as she unpacked everything she would need for today’s notes. He loved her organization.
“Aren’t you all snuggled up today” he called out towards her in a teasing manner as he examined the leggings she wore underneath her plaid skirt, she wore a fluffy brown sweater followed by her scarf & boots clearly showing she was quite cozy & warm, Zoe looked over at him & smiled shortly “Well It seemed chilly out, And I wanted to be as warm as possible.” She added before walking down the short steps to approach his desk “You seem dapper as usual” she stated while examining the suit he wore followed by reading glasses that sat perfectly against his black hair “Yeah well you know me sweetheart, I like to keep things classy.” He let a faint smirk appear on his face before watching her hum in response “Well you look good Mr Rhodes, I always thought the suits looked rather dashing on you.” He chuckled lightly at her compliment before nodding in agreement “Thank you doll, now go take a seat, get comfortable.”
She smiled politely and went back to sit down as other students scattered into the classroom, Zoe liked sitting alone, she liked having personal space & being able to listen thoroughly to what he was teaching without any distractions. However it was slowly becoming difficult for her despite the personal space.
She was currently auditioning for the main role within swan lake for a Ballet show & one of her classmates Nina was also auditioning for the tole, Nina was a competitive girl and this meant she would be making Zoe’s life hell for as long as she possibly could, whether it was in Ballet or for Mr Rhodes attention.
Zoe scrabbled down notes into her notebook as she listened and soaked in every word he spat out. Nina sat 3 rows behind her snickering into one of her friends’ ear “teachers pet.” The group all giggled and whispered causing Mr Rhodes to turn around in their direction and pull of his glasses “Nina is there something you’d like to share?” The girl froze “I- Wel- I was just-“ He raised an eyebrow and looked over at Zoe who was watching everything unfold before crossing his arms “You were just disrupting the lesson? Picking on another student for actually paying attention? I suggest you quiet down a bit before you make yourself seem more ignorant than you already are.”
Zoe smirked to herself before looking back down at her notes as she listened to him embarrass Nina in-front of everyone. After class she put everything away & was the last one to leave the room, Mr Rhodes placed a hand on her lower back & sighed “I’m sorry about that doll, Don’t let her distract you she’s just..bored” the girl smiled up at him & nodded her head in understanding “Y’know I never get distracted. I’m one of your top passing students.” She chirped back proudly as he chuckled and pat her lower back “you know, If you having nothing going on you can join me at Ballet, not actually join, join, but just..observe” she suggested softly while her hands lightly gripped at the ends of her skirt as he stood in silence for a bit & tried thinking, usually after this period he had 2 hours of free time, “I don’t see why not, I’d like to see your talents.” She smiled widely from ear to ear as she quickly started walking and had him follow behind her. As the two walked down the hallway laughing talking about whatever Nina stood in a corner grasping onto a pillar as she stared them down and glared directly at Zoe..
After a solid 20 minutes of walking the pair ended up in the Ballet Studio, Mr Rhodes sat in the observation section while Zoe adjusted her pointe shoes to her liking as she sat in her black leotard with her hair up, he watched as a guy approached her in completely slum like clothes clearly high out of his mind, “yooo, Mae’s been calling you, we’re all planning to sleepover at her place tonight since that whole murder scene shit from this morning is worrying her.” Zoe looked up at the guy causing Mr Rhodes to raise his eyebrow & watch the scene unfold as a wave of jealousy soured through him.
“Shit, I uh- I don’t know if I can Keith, I have to finish an essay by tonight, but tell her I’ll be safe yeah?” Keith..who the fuck names their kid Keith? Mr Rhodes thought before paying more attention “got it, man this shit is crazy you better be careful getting home, you never know who’s out there.” Zoe smiled as she nodded at his words, once he walked off her instructor made her and other girls get up and start stretching before the woman announced who would be the Prima Ballerina for Swan Lake. Nina walked into practice fashionably late & shoved her bag onto the ground while glaring down Zoe, she lined up with everyone and started stretching & noticed Mr Rhodes sitting & watching.
A surge of embarrassment drowned her for her current actions making her focus & act more properly and professional in hopes of impressing him the way Zoe does, but his eyes weren’t focused on Nina. They were focused on Zoe, the way he stared at her made Nina feel jealous & even angry. Something in her snapped, as the girls stood still for the announcement Mr Rhodes became slightly alarmed with the way Nina glared down at Zoe, The ballet instructor cleared her throat as she spoke out to her students “Since Satia is sick she will not be the Prima Ballerina of this Years Swan Lake, as some of you know we just finished auditions for this role but we have decided that our Prima Ballerina will be Zoe. She has shown great determi-“ Nina screamed out in frustration and turned towards Zoe and showed her so hard to the point where her ankle was sprained once she hit the floor “SHE DOESN’T EVEN DESERVE THAT FUCKING ROLE! SHE CAN’T EVE-“ The instructor turned and glared at the red head who was shouting in pure rage and envy “ENOUGH Nina!”
Everyone rushed towards Zoe as she held her ankle the instructor called out for anyone who was with Zoe to please come get her, Mr Rhodes sprinted out of the observation room & quickly came to her saving “I’m with her-“ Zoe stared up at her instructor with a stern look “I’m not giving up this role Mrs Venn, It’s only a swollen ankle I can do i-“ “Alright fine. Just be careful alright?” The instructor sighed as Keith also ran in the room to help the other man pick up Zoe “Nice suit man” Mr Rhodes furrowed his eyebrows & shook his head “Yeah thanks.” He held Zoe close to him bridal style as his free hand grabbed her bag that sat in a corner “let’s get you home yeah?” Nina sat as she was hysterical crying and shoving away her classmates as she watched him carry off Zoe.
The brunette gave him her address & eventually after walking with her in his arms they finally got to her dorm, he crouched lower so she could be able to unlock her door & come inside, He sat her down on the bed she pointed towards and sighed “You alright doll? Hows your ankle?” She sighed shrugging as she sat in her bed “I’m fine Mr Rho-“ “Cody. You can call me Cody outside of class.” Noted. “i’m fine Cody. It’s nothing but a small sprain, I’ll be better by tomorrow.” He smiled at her positivity “I don’t know how you do it sweetheart, keep things positive. I’ll handle Nina in class tomorrow morning.” Zoe smiled and suddenly got a thought “Hey un- I hope I’m not overstepping but I was wondering since you here..Can I get your number incase of an emergency? Y’know since all of this murder scene stuff & Nina going psycho..?” Cody smiled “It would be no problem at all sweetheart.” He dug in the back pocket of his pants and had her type in her phone number & sent her a quick test text. The girl smiled widely.
She needed him.
“I better start heading out beautiful, rest easy alright? If you can’t come to class tomorrow don’t even worry about it. I’ll mark you down as present for your perfect track record.” Zoe smiled at his kindness and nodded her head “Thank you Mr Rh-Cody, I appreciate it.” And with that Cody left her alone in the dorm room, the door shut behind him & she sat there thinking about what all happened today. Her mind surfaced back towards to Cody, His black hair, His voice, His strength proving carrying her was lighter than a feather. The way he spoke to her in a sweet manner ‘Sweetheart’ ‘Doll’, the way his fingers grazed her skin, the way he rushed over to her in a panic, she needed him. Zoe sighed out softly as she ran her fingers down her leotard down towards the depths of her thighs.
She needed him.
Manirhodessxox’s Masterlist
#cody rhodes#oh my fucking goooood#cody rhodes imagine#cody rhodes fic#cody rhodes x you#cody rhodes smut#wwe#wwe imagine#wwe smackdown#wwe jey uso#wwe john cena#wwe gifs#wwe fanfiction#wwe chyna#wwe cody rhodes#wwe superstars#wwe wrestlemania#wwe raw#wwe lb#wwe nxt#wwe x reader#wwe liveblog#wwe backlash#cody rhodes fanfic#cody rhodes fanfiction#cody rhodes edit#cody wwe#cody#fanfiction playlist#Manirhodessxox
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Gonna experiment with a tag list! So if you want to be tagged for The Thief and the Rake (Feysand Regency AU) just comment or let me know!
Here’s a snippet from chapter one to tide you over.
A whisper. Mist swirled out of the corner of her eye.
Feyre inhaled as she twisted, an arrow quickly in her hand and nocked in her bow. Quick enough to see a fluffy brown-red tail disappear through the trees and over a small hill.
The fox trotted away from her and she followed, hiding behind trees as she went, careful to step onto the soft wet leaves littering the forest floor.
He was a handsome creature, his coat dark sable brown and flecked with the old warm red of summer.
It was a shame to take him, she thought as he rose above the fog line onto a moss-covered rock, surveying the land in front of him with his nose tilted up to the wind. There wasn’t ever much meat on them, not that she could be picky. But his pelt would fetch something small at market. Enough to risk an arrow.
At least she and her family would have one more meal, enough to buy a few hours, a day to keep her going to the next fox, or rabbit, or God willing a deer…
Feyre nocked her arrow and pulled back the bowstring across her hollow cheek.
The crack of a twig to her left had the fox curling into fog and mist, and Feyre whirled around, heart racing, bow still nocked to fire.
”Lu!”
Lucien Vanserra’s eye went wide and his hands shot up as he stared down the length of her arrow.
Slowly, a mischievous grin spread over his face.
Feyre huffed and put down her bow.
”You just cost me lunch and ten shillings for a fox hide. I hope you’re ready to pay up.”
Unlike Feyre, her friend was dressed for the weather, a well-cut wool coat in hunter green hugging his form and skimming down to his knees, with heavy weather-stained boots coming to meet them. He had a brown felt top hat that complimented his glistening auburn hair.
Lucien looked made for the forest, and if she didn’t know him she’d think he was a sprite come to lead her to some sort of mystical adventure. With his vibrant red hair pulled back into a low plait, and his golden skin radiating warmth in between the barren branches, he seemed a creature from her old maid’s tales.
He pulled a basket from behind him, offering it to her with a flourish. “Aunt Susan and the cousins left for a few weeks to visit Uncle Tomas in Bath. I think I can do you all better than ten shillings and invite you to dinner.”
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This was in my head for a few weeks.
(low-key thought, I really love how this turned out)
#borderlands#borderlands 3#zane the operative#really I just wanted an excuse to draw him in a tacky hawaiian shirt#well that and I just want the weather to warm up
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Me, in a snowstorm with a temperature of -9 but feels like -35, wind so strong and cold that it was taking the air out of my lungs, and very UNCLEAR roads: No yeah I can make it to work
Me when I fishtail through an intersection: Yeah no I can't make it to work
#the weather outside is FRIGHTFUL#and my space heater is doing its best but its certainly not delightful#since i have no place to go (unless i want to crash)#i guess ill just let it snow?#i did not sleep well last night :(#my space heater and radiators are doing their best but theres nothing that can truly warm this place in the winter#i have gorgeous windows. HUGE windows in my living room that let in so much light#but they also let in so. much. cold#i did not go to bed dressed for the cold. so sleeping wasnt ideal#when i got ready for work i did it all wrapped in a blanket like a child#and when i got home from trying to go to work i actually got dressed properly for cold#socks. fuzzy pajama pants. hoodie#you know its bad when im wearing socks. i hate socks. theyre sensory hell#but my friend gave me cute Christmas socks so now they're part of my apocalypse outfit#im supposed to drive to see my family today but theyre four hours away and the weather is probs worse there#and my van doesn't have traction control#idk if i want to risk it. i guess ill see if it clears up by this afternoon#wish me luck and good weather#it is so. fucking. cold here in my bed. im under two blankets. im suffering
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I hate how nothing seems to get the scent of lilacs correctly, even products that use actual lilacs! I just want the things i have to smell like the real thing
:(
Oh well, I at least have a bunch of things that try to do it and smell good anyway
#emma posts#it must be a really hard scent to replicate or preserve#I do stock up on seasonal lilac stuff i like every year for as long as I can though#I’m still going through my deodorant and body wash stash#used up the cleaning supplies though but those are harder to get#I usually can only get them while seeing a few doctors of mine and I don’t see those ones as much#the cleaning products also seemed more expensive 😬#the wax melts are available at the grocery store year round though! and my clay hairpins will last for ages#as well as my resin stuff with the flowers in it. provided I keep caring for them properly#that’s a secret that they don’t (that’s a lie. they probably do) want you to know about.#those clay hair pins and combs that look like those flowers can be worn whenever. not just for weddings#and my mom got me two small ones for Christmas! I’ve wanted some for years and I’m so excited to wear them when the weather gets warm enough#at the moment though it’s too cold for me to put my hair up very often and I’m always wearing a hat when I go out
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Simon taking care of you when you accidentally injured yourself. Just fluff cuz I need fluff :D .
cw: pet names (princess, love etc.)
“Simon, I’m home!”
You opened the front door, only to see Simon sitting on the couch. Hearing your voice, he raised his head from the book he was infatuated with these days, and a low hum left him as a welcome.
“I’ll go shower first, the weather’s hot as hell, and I’m stink.”
You tossed the key onto the plate, nonchalantly passed your lover, but Simon could sense the difference in your movements.
“Stop.”
He stood up from the couch, and came straight towards you.
Oh no, you’re so fucked up.
“Hey, Si! I’m dirty! put me down!”
Simon ignored your yelling, scooping you up and over his shoulder.
“Don’t move.”
He demanded, and you swallowed hard when he grabbed your left ankle, and lifted the trouser legs.
“You’re hiding this from me?” His coffee-like brown eyes narrowed in disapproval, throwing you daggers while all you could do was let out a sigh.
“Sorry, Simon. Don’t want to concern you.”
Crooking his eyebrow, Simon darted his eyes back to observe the wound on your left calf. A long, deep cut went across half of your flesh, blood just managed to stop dripping, and fortunately didn’t stick your injury to the clothes.
“Where do you get this?”
“The parking lot of the market. Didn’t see a rock and stumble over it, and the pin sticking out of a wall dug into my leg when I tried to steady myself.” You shrugged.
You knew he was worried and hated to see you get hurt, that’s why you try to sneak to the bathroom and deal with it yourself. Simon’s eyes softened when he learned how you get yourself injured, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t allow you to do things alone for at least a week.
“let’s go shower.” He picked you up swiftly as if you weighed nothing, and you just melted into his touch.
“You gonna help me?” Even though you knew the answer, you still asked when he strode to the bathroom.
“You think there’s other options?”
“... No.”
“Good Girl.” planting a kiss on your forehead, he kicked open the door.
“Close your eyes, don’t want to sting them, love.”
Your satisfied grumble when his hands attentively scratched your head made Simon chuckle. He put you in the warm bathtub, and the little chair looked comical under his bulky stature, but you didn’t laugh at him this time, instead focusing on his hands.
His hands, working magically through your hair, carefully not to tug your hair with too much strength. The hands that always protect you, the hands that are littered with scars, soaked with blood, but massage your shoulders when you are tired, shuffle your hair when you playfully argue with him, place on your belly when he hugs you from behind and whispered his affection to you.
He reserved all his tenderness to you, and you wondered why you were lucky enough to have this man as yours.
“Told you to close your eyes, love.”
You smiled when Simon finally discovered you had been staring at him from the start.
“Am I not allowed to watch my beautiful husband?”
“Don’t complain when the sud run into those pretty eyes then.” He huffed out a laugh.
When it came to you, he just couldn’t do anything but surrender to your adorable cheekiness. He thought when he couldn’t help but give your cheek a peck.
You sat on the edge of your bed now. Simon had dry your hair, and made you put on your underwear and his black shirt.
He was kneeling in front of you now, picking through the gauze and disinfectant. He seemed to find all the things he needed. Placing them aside, he took your ankle in his hand again.
“It’ll hurt a bit.”
He traced circles on your thigh to soothe the pain when he sprayed the antiseptic on your wound and waited for it to dry.
“You’re doing well, love. We’re almost finished.”
He cooed when he saw you blinked away a tear hanging on the corner of your eye.
Nodding, you watched him cover the wound with gauze and secure it.
“Thank you, Si.”
You chanted softly when his thumb caressed on the tape. Simon didn’t let go of your ankle when you thanked him, but landed a kiss beside the gauze.
“A spell for faster healing” The childish glints in his eyes were obvious when he lifted his head to meet your eyes.
“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person, baby.” You poke his cheek with a laugh.
“Guess there’s more of me yet for you to figure out.
He threw the bottles back into the medkit, and finally stood up after kneeling for ten minutes.
“Anything you want now, princess?”
“cuddle with me, Simon. The wound hurts.”
“Who’s the one trying to hide it thirty minutes ago?”
Lying on your back on the bed, his blonde hair shined under the light, but not brighter than the languid smirk he wore on his lips.
“Are you saying you don’t want to cuddle with me now?”
“Are there other options?”
“of course not, handsome.” You worm yourself into the comforter, and beckoned him to join you.
Slump down on the bed, he wiggled himself into his usual cuddling posture, arms snaked around your waist, and covered your belly with his palm.
“Anything for you, love.” You felt he kissed the shell of your ear when your eyes closed under the coziness.
#cod imagine#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#cod x reader#cod x you#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader
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Curiosity Killed The Cat
prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 5.1k+
note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.
warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.
browse the Clingy Baby collection masterlist here
Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.
You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.
Rooted.
But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.
You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.
This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.
You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?
Curiosity, indeed.
Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...
"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."
"And the jalapeños?"
"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."
"Cream cheese?"
"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."
Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."
"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"
"Lemme pick you up."
"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."
He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"
"Let's do a white tonight, please."
"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "
"Hang on," you pleaded.
"What's wrong?"
"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"
"We haven't been to Paris in months."
You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."
Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."
"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"
"So, is that a yes?"
"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"
"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"
"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."
"I'll bring the camera."
"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"
"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.
"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"
"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"
There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "
"It's 15," he growled.
"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."
"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "
"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."
"Don't hurt her - "
"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."
The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.
He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).
For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.
"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."
You sniffled, unable to respond.
He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"
You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."
The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."
"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."
"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."
You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.
At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.
"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.
"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"
You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.
Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.
And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.
You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.
Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.
Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.
So now... To hear this... You were devastated.
You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.
You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.
"She's different, man."
"How so?" Sam wondered.
"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "
"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.
"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."
"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.
"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."
"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."
"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"
Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"
"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."
"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."
"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.
"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."
"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."
"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"
There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.
So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."
"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"
You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.
"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.
"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"
"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."
"Peach - "
"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.
"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"
"Sure."
Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"
You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.
Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest.
Got shopping done on Amazon.
Browsed through Target's online selection.
Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade.
Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.
Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?
You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"
"Out with Nat," you eased.
He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"
"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."
His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."
"I know."
"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.
And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.
When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."
The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.
You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.
Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.
Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.
Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.
After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.
"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.
"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.
"What?"
"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"
"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."
"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"
"About...?"
"Me."
"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."
Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.
"Huh?" Nat wondered.
"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.
"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."
Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"
"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"
"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."
"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.
"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."
"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."
"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."
"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."
"They can take it."
"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"
"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.
"Bucky," she growled.
He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."
"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."
"Why lie, then?"
"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."
"No shit."
"Well, did you get into a fight?"
"No."
"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"
He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."
"You had to do something."
"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."
Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"
Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."
"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."
"I didn't mean - "
"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."
Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"
"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"
Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.
The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.
Clingy...
You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...
His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.
When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"
You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.
He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."
"I'm here."
"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.
"What's wrong?"
"You. You're what's wrong."
"What the fuck does that - "
"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."
You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.
"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "
"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."
"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."
You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "
"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."
You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."
"It's not."
"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."
He nodded, "What else can I do?"
"Nothing - "
"Peach."
You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"
"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.
"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"
"All right... Sure, okay..."
"And face masks."
He sighed, "Okay."
"And mani-pedis."
"Baby."
"You said you were making it up to me, right?"
He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."
"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."
"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."
"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."
"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."
You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.
Felt okay.
Appeared okay.
And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ your gentle hands are enough
simon riley x afab!reader
cw: nsfw, angst kinda?, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, praise kink, creampie!!, reader referred as 'pet' like twice, smut with sadness, hurt/kinda comfort, mention of johnny's death, simon is scared of commitment :(, we still love him.
reblogs are immensely appreciated! <3
NEXT PART (HEA): i want your hands on me for all my life
notes: my first ever fic that i'm posting on this site !! feedback is appreciated ♡ dedicated to @rowarn for being lovely and entertaining my rambles!
You and Simon weren't exactly dating.
He visits you almost every night whenever he's in the city and he's always gone before you're out of bed. But you relish on the rare occasions that you're awake before him — the moments you get to brush your hand through the raised scars littered all across his face, the moments you get to tangle your fingers in his hair to hear his little grunts.
Simon Riley has rough hands, scarred and calloused from years in the battlefield. Yet when those hands are caressing your body softly, you know he's being unnecessarily gentle to not let you feel the roughness in his hands — as if he was trying to prevent all the hurt and pain he's inflicted with his fists from bleeding into you.
You pretend to have only just woken up, eyes blinking slowly trying to adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the blinds.
"Morning, Si."
"G'morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?" He places a warm palm on your hip, not fulling resting the weight of it.
"I always do when you're here." You raised your hand to his chest and feel his heart thumping steadily below you. His body always runs hot no matter the weather and it makes you nuzzle into him more during the bleak winter.
Silence engulfs the two of you, lulling you into a vulnerable state of bliss as you recall the events of last night.
You had barely opened the door for him last night before his hands were all over you, lips crashing onto yours as he kissed you with desperation. Strong hands working swiftly to remove your clothes gently as he pushed you towards the bedroom.
Simon was always gentle with you, but you've been with him long enough to know the difference between him missing you and him scared at the thought of missing you.
Instead of gently laying you down on the plush mattress, he pushed you with a little bit of force than usual.
"Simon!" You yelp. You must've been too distracted by him to fully notice that he was now fully naked below you.
He had a glint in his eye that let you know you were not going to be able to rest until he coaxed multiple orgasms from you.
His hand was constantly on your body, not wanting to go for a second without feeling your skin under his. Greedy kisses were peppered all across your collarbone that were now marked with the imprint of his teeth.
You knew Simon was trying to memorize every inch of your body, leave his marks on you because he was going to go back on deployment soon.
This realization is what snaps you out of your peaceful reverie. That your Simon is going to leave you soon.
The mere thought of having to see him leave your apartment in a few hours and not getting to see him for another week? Months?
It leaves a sour taste in your mouth that made you frown and turn your head away.
Simon, ever so vigilant, notices your downturned lips. He cups your chin and swivels it to face him. He nudges his nose with yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?"
You hate that he was playing dumb. Hates that he thinks you don't know his antics by now. Hates that he thinks you don't know him by now.
"You know why, Si." Pushing your hands on the plush bed, you rest your back on the headboard. You stare at Simon disapprovingly, upset that he's trying to pretend everything is fine.
He sighs heavily and run his hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was.
"How do you know?" He finally lets out, still laying down on his side staring up at you.
You scoff at him. Maybe because you've seen him through his highs-and-lows. You've seen his little smirk at your antics. Listened to his stories intently as he fondly recalls memories with his squad mates.
But you've also seen him coming to you bloody, battered, bruised, and shaking as you stitched his back. You've seen him scare himself awake at night, dreaming about the last time he saw Johnny.
He chuckles when you stare at him pointedly and finally sits up. He waits for you to stop sulking for a few minutes, before sighing once more.
The bed creaks with his weight as he tries to stand up from it, turning towards the window. You know what's coming next and you are fully aware there's nothing you can do to stop him from going on deployment.
What you can do, is at least try to make him stay a little bit longer.
You crawl forward from your position, throwing both your arms around his wide torso — at least try to, he's way too wide for you to fully engulf him in your arms.
"Don't go."
Your lips are pressed against his back as you softly plead with him to not go. Simon takes both your arms in his hands and angles his upper body towards you. Slowly, you move up from your sprawled-out position and kneel in front of him.
"Please." You slowly pull away your arms from his grip. He reluctantly lets you go before you slowly wrap them behind his neck. You inch closer to him, slowly leaning down and kissing his neck.
Simon moans languidly, still groggy.
"You play dirty, love." He cups your behind, angling his neck upwards to give you more access.
"You love it."
"Being cheeky, are you?" You grin against his neck, biting down softly. Arching your neck subtly as Simon tugged on your hair.
These were truly the moments you truly enjoy the most. Not that you don't enjoy sleeping with him, you definitely do. But being able to love him freely in the daylight made it much more intimate.
You suspect it's why Simon always tried his best to leave before the sun came up.
You know Simon loves you, albeit in his own unique way. He's never been nothing but kind and gentle to you, always making sure you feel safe and taken care of with him. From locking your door with the spare key he has after he leaves, to making sure to take care of you after having sex — always gets up to clean any messes he had left on your body with gentle wipes and ending it with a soft kiss to your forehead.
Despite your numerous attempts to get him to open up about his past, he doesn't bite often. Though, you know some part of him wants nothing more than to tell you every single thing about himself when he speaks little snippets of his past.
He doesn't tell you anything overly upsetting, always keeping it minimal and with as little details of violence as possible.
Perhaps, his idea of a small mercy.
Maybe he thinks he's doing you a favor, giving you little bits of himself hoping you eventually realize how damaged he is. He doesn't understand how those flickers of vulnerability makes you hungrier for more of him. You wanted him, thorns and all.
Simon lets himself get roped back into your arms, all his muscles relaxed, no trace any tautness or rigidness lingering. He feels safe in your arms.
"How long Simon?" You finally ask, preparing for the worst.
Simon was mostly gone for around a month.
But on the rare times you couldn't see him for more than half a year, it was like hell. It hurt so deeply knowing even if he had been killed off somewhere, you might not even know. The only traces left of him would only be the few shirts he's let you take and the Simon-shaped hole he would have left in your heart.
It scared you that you could never be able to smell his earthy musk lingering in your sheets again, that it would fade one day and you wouldn't remember what it smelled like anymore.
"I dunno. More or less three months?"
You hated when he was vague. He was often trying to spare your feelings.
"So... more."
He nods with his face still hiding in your neck. You can feel him press his nose harder and inhale deeply.
Deep down, you feel crushed. You always do when he has to leave. You want to tell him how much you love him again, how much you need him, and you wanted him to say it back so badly.
You thought you had gotten so far with him, slowly breaking down his walls after getting him to start staying over instead of leaving. Something changed after he lost Johnny — he was more touchy, more clingy, but he never let you get any closer anymore. You could physically feel him wince if you told him you loved him during one of your vulnerable moments.
The first time you told him you loved him, he looked at you with a somber look. He didn't say anything, but he pulled you close and gave you a bone-crushing hug.
I'm sorry.
He gave different reactions every time. Some days he'd simply sigh and drag his fingers through your hair lovingly. On worse days, he'd shake his head and do nothing else.
It was like an impenetrable wall had suddenly appeared when it wasn't there before.
You take a deep breath. Simon has been nothing but gentle with fragile you. He's been trying his best to not taint the heart that you've freely ripped out of your chest for him.
Maybe this time, you can do something for him and let him go back without the weight of your love on his shoulder.
"Better make the most of it then, eh?" You pull back from him and hear a grunt of protest. You start pushing him until his back hit the headboard gently. Kissing your way down to his groin, you tug at his boxers impatiently.
"Sweetheart you don't have to-"
"I want to." You cut him off.
"Fuck. You're gonna be the death o' me, love." He lifts his hips and lets you drag his boxers down, revealing his semi-hardness.
God, his cock is so beautiful. It's so thick you could barely wrap both your hands around it even when he's not fully hard.
"I'll make sure to send you off gently with a kiss, Simon." Your mouth slowly engulfs the tip of his cock, licking all around it. Simon lets out a groan as he grabs your head gently.
"Oh, fuck. That's it, sweetheart. So sweet, being so good f' me." He encourages sweetly and it's enough to get you preening and moving your head excitedly down his length.
Just as you know his habits, Simon also knows what makes you tick. Getting praised by him almost always makes you putty in his hands and he makes sure to take advantage of this information to its full potential. He loves to praise you even for the smallest of things, such as cooking for him when he gets back.
Telling you how lovely you are and how he's thankful for you taking the time to cook for grumpy, old, Simon.
You continue taking more of his length in your mouth, gaggling slightly from the sheer size of him. You can taste the salty precum on your tongue and your eyes roll back from pleasure, taking him in more enthusiastically.
"Slow down, love. Don't want- ugh.. you t' hurt yourself." Simon tries to pull your head back to give you space, but you're not happy about it. You glare up at him best as you can before taking him down to the hilt.
Nose pressed deep, you can smell the slight tang of his musk, making you slightly delirious. You moan, sending vibrations up throughout his body.
Simon trembles with pleasure, groaning.
"Yeah, you like that sweetheart? Love choking on my cock? Hmm?"
At his words, you slowly take your mouth off of him, replacing it with your hands. Slick from your spit and his precum, your hand glides along his shaft easily as he bucks into your hand.
"Mhm.." You put your mouth on him once more, only pulling away to rub it all over your face. "Love it so much, Si. Love having your cock in my mouth. Can't live without it."
Simon admires you, cockdrunk on his leaking shaft. Even with his mess all over your face as you slobber on him, he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous.
Looking up at him, it's like you can see hearts in his eyes. You've been wet since the moment you woke up to him next to you, but him looking at you like you're the only person he wants to see on him makes you feel on top of the world.
Unable to take it anymore, you whine pathetically and start humping the bed.
Simon sees you writhing on the bed below him and chuckles as you continue kissing all over his cock.
"Look at you.. so needy, sweetheart. You don't need to hump the bed like a dog in heat. I'm right here, love." With that, he gently pulls you off his cock. You groan dismay, body going slightly limp from desperation.
"Need you so bad, Si." You beg him, tears starting to form in your eyes. You think you're going to crazy if he doesn't fuck you soon. He's about to leave soon for months and you're desperate for him to leave his mark on you.
Simon gently tuts and caresses your cheek. He's in awe of how he's got such a lovely, needy, pet wrapped around his finger. He hasn't had someone this devoted to him in a very long time — someone who's always excited to see him come home, someone who's never asked for him for more than what he can give.
Maybe it makes him a narcissist that he's happy of the fact that you're so desperately in love with him, you'd rather have parts of him than not at all.
But during early mornings where he'd find you sniffling into your pillow, he feels pain in his chest where his heart resides. He knows you cry over him.
He mourns the love that you two could have, but he'd rather mourn over the fantasy he's created in his head — the fantasy where he wasn't fucked up and is able to receive the kind of love you freely give, than have you be heartbroken when Simon inevitably doesn't come home one day.
"I got you, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good." He rumbles against your lips. In a split second, he'd managed to lay you out on the bed and now hovered above you.
He takes a moment to stare at your face. Wide-eyed, sweating, and panting heavily. He peppers kisses all over your face.
His little pet all worked up over sucking his cock.
He's staring at you for a few seconds, making you writhe around, but you never break his stare. It was as if the both of you were trying to commit each other's faces to memory right in this moment, not knowing when you were going to be able to see each other again.
You bring your hand up to his face, slightly wiping the sweat away from his eyes.
His eyes.
The moment he looked at you, you know you were done for. Those eyes never fail to send shivers through your whole body, as if your entire being was standing to attention when his eyes were on you.
"You're so pretty, Simon."
That seemed to break him out of his trance. He grunts slightly as if disagreeing with your statement. You sigh, knowing he's never going to see himself the way you see him.
That's okay. You'll spend as much time as he'll give you to convince him.
Simon kisses and caresses down your body as you moan from the feel of it. Teasing you with his lips and leaving small marks all over. When he gets to your thighs, he slowly raises both of them as he lightly rubs his scruffy chin on it.
"Lift those pretty legs f' me, hm?"
When you don't respond, he gently bites to get your attention and you huff. You grasp your bedsheets so tight your knuckles were going white when you feel his hot breath on you.
"Such a pretty pussy. Just for me, yeah?" He kisses your folds gently, the sensation of his scruff causing a prickly sensation, making you wail in pleasure.
"S-Simon!" You were so needy and sensitive — Simon loved that about you.
"So sensitive." He murmurs against your weeping pussy. He runs his finger across your folds, gathering the wetness. You look down at him as he tastes your wetness on his finger.
"Fuck, Simon."
"Mm, my favorite taste."
After a few moments of simply kissing all around your folds and your clit, Simon decides to stop teasing you. He presses his face in your folds and licks a stripe across it.
He repeats this action multiple times, sucking on your little bud in between. He rolls his finger around your clit as his mouth makes suckling noises. The sensation of his tongue and finger on you make you gasp loudly — your eyes rolling back.
You arch your back and don't stop chanting Simon's name like a prayer. Like he was going to disappear if you stopped calling his name.
"That's it. Let me hear what you want, pretty." He brings two of his fingers back inside your walls, lightly caressing them. He's teasing you, waiting for you to beg him to put his fingers inside of you. You break instantly, begging for him to use his thick fingers to please you.
"Please, Simon. Please, please, please. Need your fingers in me."
How could Simon deny you when you beg so sweetly?
Humming against you, he slowly sinks his fingers inside your aching walls. You sigh in contentment, unconsciously clenching on his fingers.
"Relax love, you're choking my fingers." You relax a bit at his words, trying to get your breathing back to normal. The death grip you
It seems that Simon had other ideas, because as soon as you loosened, his fingers started picking up. You start wailing again at his sudden shift in pace, grabbing his hand that was gripping your thigh.
His hand lets go of your thigh and entwines it with yours.
"Doing so good for me. You can take it, sweetheart. Be good and cum on my fingers, yeah?" At this point the both of you were panting heavily, his heavy cock still leaking precum onto the bedsheets. You didn't realize it before, but you're just now realizing how the bed is creaking from his hips.
Simon pants heavily, the room getting warmer by the second. His heavy groans makes your pussy throb around his fingers as you feel a pressure building in your lower belly.
"Si- please. So close."
Knowing you're close sends him over the edge, his tongue works faster and sloppier in tandem with his fingers. Simon moans and and your back starts to arch higher than before.
You're now making a mess on the bedsheets, wet noises can be heard loudly as it echoes throughout the entire room. You feel hot, sweaty, and suddenly everything's too much.
The lights are too bright, the noises too loud, and you feel so sensitive it burns.
"Simon, I-" You whine, legs starting to thrash as Simon pulled his fingers away to hold your legs. You feel your nerves lighting awake as you feel every single sensation as he sinks his tongue inside.
"Love you Si, love you so much. I'm—" Your body seizes and freezes for a moment and a little flick of his tongue against your bud makes you lose it. Your orgasm washes through you like a crashing wave, causing you to tremble in his hold and let out gasps as you struggle to breath normally and let your legs fall.
Simon lets you catch your breath as he lifts himself up, still hard. You rest your eyes on him and you see him lick his lips — his entire mouth and chin shiny with your slick.
He hovers above you once more, leaning down to give you a kiss. You reach up enthusiastically, pulling him down by his neck. He grunts at the sudden force as you slant your lips against his. It's messy, his lips slick with spit and yours with a small trace of drool. The kiss is desperate, teeth knocking into each other more than once.
It goes on for a while before Simon starts to pull back. Before he's successful, you wrap both your legs around his waist and Simon gasps at the sensation of his cock pressed against your slick.
"Need you inside, Simon. Want you in me." Murmuring against his lips, your hand desperately wanders down his sweaty body and grips his cock.
He lets out a grunt at the sudden warmth enveloping him and is unable to control as his hips involuntarily thrust forward.
"Yeah? You want my cock? Take it, sweetheart. It's all yours." He watches in a daze as you slowly align him with you. The moment he feels his tip rub on your slippery folds, he lets out a whimper.
"Please Si.." You whisper to him. "Wanna feel you inside me so bad." Simon coos at you, seeing you beg him to fuck you never fails to make his brain circuit for a few seconds.
He teases you a few seconds longer, just to hear you beg more for him. He begins to feel bad when you start humping the air in hopes of getting his head inside you.
You're babbling incoherently now, eyes closed, hands wandering all over Simon's body. He gives you mercy and starts to push inside your throbbing hole. It takes a bit of time, but when his head manages to push through, he's already able to feel your walls pulsate around him.
"Oh, sweetheart. So needy f' me." He's also barely coherent, his eyes focused on his cock deeper inside your tight hole. "What are you gonna do when I'm gone, hm? Who's gonna fuck you this good?" Simon barely realizes what he's saying until he's spoken them. The thought of someone else fucking you when he's gone lights a fire inside him.
"Oh, fuck." His cock is fully in you now and you can feel every vein pulsating inside of you. Your hands are gripping Simon harder, possibly leaving red marks all over his body — you relish in the thought of Simon looking in the mirror and seeing the marks you left on him. "No one, Si. No one's gonna fuck me as good as you. Don' want you to go. Want you here with me." Your mouth hangs open uselessly, overwhelmed with the pressure of Simon in you.
Hearing you admit so openly you weren't going to fuck anyone else drives Simon even crazier. You realize now how much of an impact your words have on Simon when he starts pounding your poor pussy that was still sensitive.
"Yeah? That's right, sweetheart. No one can fuck you like I can." It takes him a few seconds to get his words out, huffing above you. You can barely hear what he's saying, ears ringing from the blinding white, hot pleasure coursing through your entire body. Your hands try gripping him as long as you can but his thrusts are causing your body to jostle relentlessly, and now your arms flail helplessly before holding onto the headboard.
Simon is no longer on his forearm, his head resting in the crook of your neck as his hands grip your waist. You're sure his hands are going to leave prints in the morning from how hard he's gripping you.
You don't mind at all.
Your brain feels foggy, only speaking Simon's name over and over again. Simon's no better than you, grunting and groaning at every thrust that leads him deeper into your hole.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He moans. "So good for me, so sweet for me." Your legs no longer have the energy to stay corded behind his back, limping helplessly beside you as Simon fucks you.
You feel another orgasm creeping up on you as your walls begin to clench around Simon's cock. Simon hisses at the feeling, leaning up to look at your cream gathering at the base of him. He looks up to the ceiling, gasping in pleasure.
"Si, I'm so close, I-" He brings his head down to give you a chaste kiss before pulling away, nose touching yours and staring into your eyes.
"Let go f' me, sweetheart. Gonna cum on my cock and be good?" He coaxes you, one of his hands going to your face. You don't even realize you're crying until Simon wipes your tears away.
You can't take it anymore, the loving look in his eyes and feeling him inside you breaks you.
"Love you so much, Si. I love you so fucking much." You cry out to him as you're finally sent over the edge. You wail loudly, back arching as Simon continues to thrust at a slower pace, going deeper than before.
"God, fuck. I love you, I love you. Fuck." He continues to mumble against your neck. Your jaw goes slack and another orgasm seizes your body as you clench and gush all over him.
His thighs are drenched from your slick and when he feels your walls pulsing repeatedly over him, he feels shivers all over his body and he cums.
The blinding pleasure takes him off guard, thighs shaking from the sheer force. He continues thrusting shallowly, dragging out his orgasm as his cum fills up your hole to the brim.
He gasps and bites down on your neck, not stopping until he's fully come down from his high.
You're shell shocked, one hand over your eyes as you thinking about what just transpired. This was nothing like before. He'd never said 'I love you', ever. You take a moment to regain your thoughts, heart thumping wildly.
By this point, your hopes had soared like never before, the small part of you that still believes you can have something with Simon begins crawling out of you — coming back alive.
"Si-" You start as you catch your breath and lift your head slightly to look at him.
"Sorry." He mumbles lifting himself from your body, plopping himself on the pillow beside you.
There's nothing but silence for a few minutes. A part of you wants nothing more than to confront him, get him to face his feelings. But you know Simon and that if you did that, he'd panic.
So, you wait. And wait. And wait.
Until he coughs.
"I have to go. Supposed to meet the boys in an hour." He grumbles, fumbling around to get himself off the bed and find his clothes.
Your heart breaks. Was he really going to go away for a few months without talking about what just happened? You had to make a choice. Either speak now or forever hold your peace.
"Simon." You speak with such a finality in your tone that it renders Simon frozen. He pauses putting his pants back on and stares up at you, terrified.
"I love you." You say, loud and clear. You've told him you loved him in the throes of passion and in the sleepy haze of early mornings, but never when both of you were wide awake. Like a secret that's only meant to be whispered so as to not let it get snuffed out.
You see his eyes widen for a fraction of a second. He seems to debate what he wants to say. You badly wish for him to just say something, anything at all.
He doesn't.
Simon continues to put on his pants and slip his shirt over his head. Once he finally gains the courage to look at you once more, he had to clear his throat. The forlorn look on your face would haunt him until the day he dies.
He knows you love him so deeply and honestly, that there was no questioning your devotion to him. He knows that you feel for him so deeply, you'd rather hurt yourself over and over than let him go.
But he's also once harbored care and affection to someone, fighting side-by-side with someone he thought was going to never stop speaking gibberish in his ear.
If Simon almost couldn't survive losing Johnny, there was no way you were going to survive losing him.
With his heart in his throat, Simon stares at you, fighting back tears that threaten to escape. God, he wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you and tell you he loves you more than anything in this world. That he'd fight through any battlefield with broken limbs just to come home to you. But he knows he can't give you that promise. That promise that he's going to die of old age with you.
He expects you to cry or scream, but nothing in the world would be able to heal the way Simon's heart breaks when you only give him a sad smile.
"That's okay. I know you're not selfish enough to love me back."
He knows he should just leave, but he can't help himself from hurting you once more. Simon steps forward, cradles your head in his hands and lay a kiss atop your head.
And then, he leaves.
#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost smut#ghost x reader#cod smut#cod x reader#simon riley angst#simon ghost riley angst#cod ghost x reader#sgtales
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₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊Cool Off₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊
♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader
｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡
♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?
♡︎ word count: 3.4k
♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?
♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this
banner by @cafekitsune
You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -
meet up with your friend
shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets
doctor’s appointment
You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.
But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.
Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.
The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.
You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.
Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list
get some dessert for Zayne
And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.
☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊
“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.
It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.
You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.
“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.
Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.
“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”
You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.
With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.
Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...
“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.
Busted!
For like a hundredth time.
You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”
He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”
You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.
You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!
In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.
Zayne's voice fades into focus.
"Is everything okay?"
“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"
"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.
You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.
You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”
It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.
When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”
Right, the heat.
You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.
Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?
You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’
Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.
You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.
Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”
He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.
Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.
He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’
You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.
“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.
Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.
Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”
You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.
He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.
“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”
The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.
He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.
He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."
You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.
His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.
"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.
Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."
Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.
Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.
"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.
The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.
Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"
He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.
Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.
Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.
Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’
You shrug ‘Just pull out.’
‘That’s not very respo – ‘
‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.
He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.
Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.
‘Yes… I need you.’
With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.
His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.
'Zaynee-' you whine.
He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.
But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.
His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.
As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.
He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.
“Zayne - I'm close”
“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.
'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'
You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.
You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.
You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.
‘I’m gonna come soon –‘
You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’
His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.
His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.
His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.
After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”
You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”
“I can show you later.”
#my writing needs to be hornier#guess i'm back to writing#love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#zayne x reader#zayne smut#love and deepspace smut#zayne x you#lads zayne
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