#I may have fucked up my foot from spending too much time standing at the stove this week

[eatember]

-

[romana-after-dark]

Pushing Buttons

Darkish!Nathan Bateman x fem!reader

Masterlist : Taglist

Summary: You purposefully piss Nathan off just to get used and degraded.

Warnings and Content: Hate fucking, everything is consenual but it not really what a good dom/sub dynamic should look like hence it being in the dark blog. Rough sex, spitting, lots of talk of sweat and spit. Foot fetish, Nathan is face stomping, which means he's got his foot on readers face, and the heel goes in her mouth at one point. I refuse to write literal non con on here and feel embarrassed for a foot fetish okay. LOTS OF DEGRADING TALK, like, seriously degrading. Only a little bit of aftercare and it's not an established part of their dynamic. Mentions of ass eating. Nathan and reader just being gross.

A/N: This is not the Dark!nathan I was talking about ealier but this was kinda a warm up to get a little more of a hold of his character. I may have to watch the movie again to get a feel for his mannerism. Or maybe I should write him drunk. Anyway. This came about after a convo with @hon3yboy and she encouraged me to write this after sharing hony thots about foot on face lol. Gonna take a quick sec and promo her, everyone should check out her Werewolf!Marc series

800 Words

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

You’d done it on purpose, honestly. You’d pissed Nathan off intentionally after he’d been ignoring you all day. 

He was supposed to spend the day with you, take you hiking and fuck you in some steamy spring, but instead he had spent all day in his office coding. You tried to hang out in the office with him, to get him to remember his promise but instead you just got mad when you took a peek at his coding. You didn’t understand much about coding, but you looked at his notes and figured it out.

“You’re programming her to blow you?!?!?!”

This erupted in a big fight, Nathan insisting he wasn’t programming his AI to blow him, but to suck dick in general. You didn’t believe him, or maybe you did but you were too mad to think clearly, and ripped his computer off his desk and threw it on the floor.

That’s how you ended up here, tossed on the couch like a rag doll and molded into every position Nathan wants as he hate fucked you. At the moment, he had you on your knees and braced up against the arm rest as he knelt. With his fingers in your mouth, you gagged up spit that he smeared all over your face, rubbing your eye make up on your skin.

“Open.” Nathan order, and you vaguely open your eyes and mouth to accept the glob of spit that he didn’t even try to aim on your face.

“Dirty fucking whore, always trying to piss me off just so she can get abused.” Without a doubt, that’s what you did, but you fucking loved it. Sure, this wasn’t the perfect relationship, but it wasn’t really much of a relationship. You weren’t his girlfriend. You were just here. And although it was never meant to last long, you enjoyed the chaos.

Nathan pulled out, and before you could think much on it, he grabbed your hips and pulled you back before shoving your face into the couch and adjusting his own position. Standing on the couch cushion now, Nathan steadies himself by twisting one of your arms behind your back and putting the other one on the backrest for stability.

His right foot was planted directly on your face.

Nathan Bateman was barefoot most of the time. Living in a home with heated floors, he liked to “Let them bad boys breathe” It was his same justification for sleeping naked. 

Planting his foot on your face was a new level of degradation as he fucked you, his words bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. 

“Pathetic, dirty bitch, letting me step on your face, letting me shove your face in my ass.” Nathan panted over you. He was fit, but the activities you both engaged in always made him breathless, his sweat dripping down from his hairless head and onto your face. You tasted the salt, moaning as your cunt clenched around his massive length. 

Nathan laughed a cruel, mocking laugh. “That turns you on? You’re fucking disgusting, you’re so pathetic, I should just- ohhhhfuckohfuck- I should just cum inside and got let you get off, leave you rutting against the couch like a bitch in heat.” Nathan filled you up over and over again, each thrust inward making his sweaty foot shove you into the cushion. “You're desperate enough, bet I could make you hum anything just to get off. God, sofuckingtight! Shit!” His grunts grow louder, his hips more frantic and you know he’s close, and so are you.

“Bet you’re the kind of girl I could fuck right up against a dumpster, just shove your face against the filth so I don’t have to look at your fucking face-”

That did it. “NATHAN!” You scream as you cum all around him, mouth wide open so his sweaty foot slide down enough you can taste him, but you don’t care. Nothing mattered when Nathan was inside you.

Nathan was cumming, filling you up as he called you his “disgusting little cum dumpster” and spitting on you one last time. With all the moisture on your face, his foot slipped off you and Nathan fell forward, his cock brutally spearing you as you both collapsed onto the couch.

“Fucking bitch.” Nathan smacked your ass as he walked butt naked, only to stop, pause, then turn around. Returning to your fucked out body, Nathan took his discarded shirt and wiped your face off before pulling a throw blanket over you. He leaned down, pinching your face in his fingers and speaking firmly. “Sleep”

Nathan pulled on his basketball shorts, and as your eyes drifted off into dreamland, so thoroughly exhausted, blissed out and satisfied, the sounds of Nathan taking the rest of his rage out on the punching back lulled you to sleep.

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

I know it's not my strongest work but I just wanted to test out some Nathan Bateman

Also, im updating my tag list so even if you commented to be on my tag list, please comment again. Before, i just had TLOU and Moon Knight, but I've been expanding so comment Oscar or Pedro characters please!

IDK whose all interested bc Nathan Bateman and its like foot fetish based lmfao so just tagging @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction and @alwaysmicado who support my insanity.

[tangerinesgf]

Waiting Out The Storm

Tangerine x gn!reader

Summary: Tangerine just got home from a long job and you wanna go see him, but it's storming outside.

Tags/warnings: nothing really, just a bit hurt/comfort (mostly comfort not so much hurt actually), fluff, language (it's still Tangerine after all)

A/N: Here's a fluffy fic for ya'll before I come back with my angsty one, cause I already have a great (some might say horrible) idea for one. Also I spend a weird amount of time researching various British terms for weather for this fic.

"I know, love, I wanna see you too, but you don't 'ave a car and mine's total loss."

'I can just walk over, it's not that far.' you proposed, knowing full well it's at least a 15 minute walk.

Tangerine walked over to the window by the kitchen that looked out on the dim-lit street. It had been tipping down all day, but since Lemon had dropped him off at home it really started raining cats and dogs. London weather, everyone.

He should've just asked Lemon to drop him off at your place, but he had wanted to clean himself up a bit first. Yes, he had shown up at your doorstep covered in blood more than once, but he liked to avoid it if possible. Unfortunately that meant that the both of you were now stuck at home, talking over the phone instead of wrapped around each other.

"Use your eyes, darlin', it's raining sideways, there's no way I'm letting you set even one foot outside in that shitstorm."

'I have an umbrella.'

"Nice try, I'll come by in the morning, don't think it's goin' to let up tonight." He could hear you groan from over the phone at this.

There was nothing Tangerine wanted more than to hold you in his arms right now, tell you how much he missed you while placing little kisses all over your face. Unfortunately he was limping because some bastard had hit him on the leg with metal pipe and he wouldn't risk you getting sick only to see him.

"Go get some sleep, love, it's late."

'Fine.' you mumbled, clearly not happy about this, but it's not like you had a lot of other options at the moment.

"I love ya, sweet dreams and all that." He could hear you chuckle at that and he wished he was with you to see that smile on your face, however small it may be at this moment.

'Love you too, Tan.' And with that he heard you hang up the phone, finding himself alone once again.

After staring outside for a couple more minutes he decided that he should probably go to bed as well, after all he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep while in Madrid either.

About an hour later Tangerine was still awake, not used to sleeping alone. Just when he decided to pick up the book you had recommended to him, he heard what he thought was a faint knock on his frontdoor.

He climbed out of bed, put his joggers back on and strolled towards the door. When the knocking on his door became louder, seemingly more urgent he made a grab at the gun he kept in his drawer.

Pointing it in front of him, he slowly crept to the front door. Unlike your small apartment, Tangerine's house didn't have a peephole in the door. He made a mental note to go get one sometime this week. So for the lack of better options he threw the door open and pointed the barrel of the gun towards the figure on his doorstep. Their hands flew up in the air at the sight of the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Tan. Paranoid much?"

Wait what?

Slowly the person lowered their hands and pulled the hood covering their face down. "It's just me."

You were standing on his porch, completely soaked without your previously mentioned umbrella. Luckily you did wear a raincoat, although that didn’t stop your pants from getting wet. He could clearly see the the difference between your light blue jeans that had turned darker because of the rain.

"Fuckin' hell, what the fuck are ya doin' 'ere?"

"Couldn't sleep, I needed to see you." Your voice was barely audible above the rain, but neither made a move to get inside yet.

The rain will still pouring down, completely soaking your previously covered hair. Your face was red from the cold and Tangerine could hear you repeatedly sniffing your nose. That would probably turn into a cold later.

"So ya decided to walk to walk almost a kilometer in the storm?! Are you nuts?!"

"Look I'd love to continue this conversation, but can we please move it inside, I'm fucking freezing."

It only really hit him in that moment that you just walked almost 20 minutes in the rain and were currently still standing in it, practically shaking from the cold.

"Fuck, yea ofcours, come in."

Tangerine stepped aside, making room for you to set foot inside, and placed the gun back in the cabinet.

"You can put your coat on the heater, I'll get ya some towels and dry clothes."

"Thanks."

He quickly walked upstairs and grabbed the pajama pants you'd forgotten last time you were here and one of his dress shirts for you to put on.

When he came back you were still standing by the front door, rain dripping onto his welcome mat. Tangerine handed you the clothes and you made your way to his bathroom, leaving wet foot prints all over his house.

Once you were cleaned up you walked back into the living room. Tangerine loved it when you wore his clothes. His dress shirt was way too big for you, it basically swallowed you, but he absolutely adored it.

Once you were sitting on his couch, wrapped in his softest blanket Tangerine offered you a cuppa and sat next to you.

"What were you thinkin', love?"

"I-"

Tangerine cut you off before you could finish your answer. "I told ya to stay home."

He wasn't really upset with you. In fact Tangerine was ecstatic to see you again after 3 weeks, but he didn't understand why you couldn't just wait until morning. Why you would risk your health just to see him. In his opinion he really wasn't worth all this trouble.

"I know." You simply said.

"Then why'd ya come?" His voice was soft, truly just wanting to understand you.

"I had to see you, see that you're okay." You mumbled just loud enough for him to hear.

Oh.

Tangerine followed your eyes, but you avoided him. He knew that you worried about him, how could you not with his particular job. However you had never really voiced that to him, not like this.

"I'm sorry." you murmured.

With your apology all the remaining tension instantly left his body. All you had wanted to do was see for yourself that he made it home safe. Tangerine had told you that he had only gotten beat up a bit, but it was only now that he realized that every time he returned from a job he went straight to you. This was the first time where he hadn't been able to. He had never realized how much you apparently needed that physical confirmation.

Tangerine moved closer to you, gently took the mug from your hands and placed it on the coffee table. "C'mere."

He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your waist. As you buried your face in the crook of his neck, Tangerine placed a gentle kiss on your crown.

"You could 'ave told me. Don't want you worrying about me." He tried to make it sound teasing, almost like a joke to lighten the mood, but it didn't really work.

"I'm always going to worry about you, Tan."

Tangerine wished he could just take all your worry away, promise you that he was always gonna make it back home to you, but he knows he can't.

He can't promise that he won't accidently catch a bullet to the neck and bleed out in some god forsaken country with you on the other side of the world. The thought of leaving you behind has him sleepless at night. Tangerine knows you felt the same way, tonight was only a confirmation of that.

"I know, love." He pulled you impossibly closer to him.

There wasn't much else to say at the moment. Tangerine knew the two of you should probably talk about your feelings, but that could wait 'till morning.

He could feel your warm breath on his neck as it slowly evened out. When he looked at you, your eyes were closed, fast alseep. Tangerine leaned his head on yours, finally able to catch some much needed sleep.

Taglist: @waiting4ff @venusthepirate @megumisbabymomma @bratdoll666 @assmaster37 @wrendermeuseless @kpopgirlbtssvt @dontknownameauthor @earth-elemental18 @thirstyfortangerine @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed)

[wonjinburger]

writing prompt #04

bumping into each other as solo travelers ; park sunghoon

태양보다 찬란한 . . . 그게 바로 나

INFO : : park sunghoon x reader / romcom

wc : <1600

notes : this was lowkey rushed bcs i had an idea at 12am but i had to go sleep but i couldn't risk losing the idea

20 JANUARY 2023 : :

2:04 - it's currently 2am and i've just landed in paris, and i'm now heading to my hotel room to take a long ass nap.

13:12 - jk the nap lasted from around 11 hours. now it's 1pm and i'm going to go out for lunch. i've heard a lot of good word about a specific cafe so i'm gonna go try it out!

13:37 - the weirdest things just happened what the fuck? i bumped into this guy, who was really hot btw, by accident. obviously i apologized for it like a normal person but he just scoffed at me and left?? thanks for that random stranger.

23 JANUARY 2023 : :

12:02 - i just had a quick snack and i'm currently on the train to versailles, i wanted to have a quick look at all the beautiful architecture. i find versailles to be such a romantic and beautiful place lol

12:28 - i've arrived at versailles! i have a tour booked for today at 1pm, so i guess i'll walk around versailles for now.

13:13 - no fucking way, the guy i bumped into a few days ago is here too, like, in the same tour group as me. i said hi and he basically looked at me weird and left me standing. thank god idk this guy and i'll never see him again, he seems like an ass.

14 APRIL 2023 : :

10:16 - hi journal, today i'm in the netherlands, i heard about the keukenhof tulip garden and of course i had to come here. i just had breakfast at the hotel i'm staying in and i'm about to head out to the garden to see all the pretty flowers!

11:11 - THE GARDEN IS SO PRETTY OMG BUT THAT EXPERIENCE WAS LOWKEY RUINED. by who you may ask? by FUCKING FRANCE DUDE?? WHY IS HE EVERYWHERE???? like i was taking photos of the pretty flowers and boom, suddenly i see him through the lens of my camera, please get this guy out of my life

11 MAY 2023 : :

00:01 - i have finally done one of the things off my bucket list, and that is to visit switzerland! i always saw tiktoks and photos of the amazing view and obviously i had to come see for myself, but it's 12am rn and i am really tired so i'm gonna go sleep, then i'll explore in the morning

11:42 - okay i woke up a few minutes ago which is quite late, but i'm gonna go down to the hotel's cafeteria and have some brunch before i explore the town

4:51 - hi this isn't funny anymore, i literally just set foot into an eatery near one of the places i was visiting and i see france dude, AGAIN. can he just get out of my life atp please, i'm so sick of seeing his annoying (but ig good-looking) face. AND WHY IS THE ONLY AVAILABLE SEAT LIKE NEXT TO HIS TABLE???

-- (☆)

i'm going back home to korea today, i think i've been travelling way too much, so i'm going to go home and rest up and spend time with my family and some friends.

i boarded the plane and by that point it was 11pm and i was honestly drained. i spent a whole day exploring the more nature-y side of switzerland and the view definitely did not disappoint.

i sat myself down in my assigned seat and was so ready to fall asleep at this point. a guy walked over and sat next to me, and i bet you won't be able to figure out who was gonna be my plane seatmate for almost 12 hours. yeah it was france guy. he seemed pretty surprised to see me too i think.

after he sat himself down next to me, he looked at me, maybe i was staring too hard.. "hey" i looked at him, question marks practically all over my forehead. "can you stop staring at me" i scoffed at him, this guy is ridiculous!

the plane took off a few minutes later and i was starting to doze off, and unfortunately for me i left my neck pillow in my luggage by accident, so my head was dropping left and right.

i suddenly woke up and it felt like i was lying against something? i sat upright to see what i had been sleeping on, and it was france dude? he woke up when he felt me getting up. "you're finally up, my shoulder feels like it's about to dislocate"

'okay sorry for accidentally sleeping on your shoulder but like, rude much'

"oh shit, i'm so sorry. i left my neck pillow in my luggage and i think i just passed out suddenly" he scoffed and i was so close to losing my shit not gonna lie. but the next moment, he handed me his neck pillow and i looked at him while holding the neck pillow. "just use it, i'd rather you use my stuff than you use me" damn okay stranger. "oh, thanks?" and soon he attempted to go back to sleep.

it was currently 8:59am, which meant we still had probably less than 2 hours left of this plane ride, and i was thanking heavens because 12 hours next to this guy would've been hell if i weren't fast asleep.

france guy was moving around in his seat and i assumed he couldn't fall back asleep. i tapped on his shoulders a little to get his attention "hey, you can have your neck pillow back, seems like you can't sleep, and i'm pretty energized right now" he looked at me and sighed "it's fine, i'll just give up on going back to sleep".

after that it was pure silence. and i couldn't stand it so of course i had to open my big ass mouth.

"so.. you travel a lot?" he nodded his gaze fixed on his phone. "alone?" he nodded again still focusing on his screen. damn talking to this guy is so hard. let's bring up the past! "you remember the first time we met?" he finally looked at me. "we've met?" are you fucking serious right now.

"i bumped into you on accident in paris back in january?" he thought about it for a second before replying. "oh! i remember now, you bumped into me and almost spilt your hot coffee all over me" "hey! it almost spilt on me too okay, and i apologized for it" he shrugged it off and went back on his phone.

"you know, i kept seeing you around while i was travelling and at some point i thought you were stalking me" he looked back at me again, his eyebrows furrowed this time. "what the fuck why would i stalk you, i don't even know you?" "it happens sometimes" "hey, for all i know you could be the one stalking me right now" i was taken aback, speechless, i can't handle this guy oh my god.

"you know, your looks and personality clash a lot" he gave me a look that said 'wtf do you mean'. "you're a good-looking guy, like, i'd definitely date you if your personality was nicer" he stared at me for a while and chuckled a little. "for your information i have a great personality" "it sure doesn't seem that way" he scoffed and put his phone down before looking me in the eyes.

"i'm nice to people i'm close to, last i checked, we don't even know each other." "maybe we can change that" he looked shocked by what i said. honestly i'm shocked too, but i mean, he's pretty hot, it would be a wasted chance.

"you want us to get close?" i nodded. "you're ridiculous lady" i rested my head in the palm of my hands as i kept eye contact with him "it's y/n, lee y/n. and you are?" he looked at me in disbelief for a while. "i can't believe this is happening." he let out a deep and heavy sigh before introducing himself. "i'm park sunghoon."

"nice to meet you sunghoon. oh, i was gonna ask if you were korean, but your name just confirmed it for me" "are you heading home right now?" i nodded to his question. "homesick?" he asked, and i nodded. it seemed like he was feeling homesick too. "maybe we should hangout sometime while we're in korea" i blurted out suddenly, to my surprise he didn't oppose of this idea.

i then pushed my phone towards him, "can i have your number then?" he looked at my phone, then at me. "are you hitting on me?" i don't know, was i? i mean, i am interested in him, so i guess? "yeah i am, so what do you say, can i have your number? and maybe we can go out sometime and maybe even travel together?" he stared at me in shock, but his reply lowkey shocked me too.

"sure, let's go on a date soon"

[fight-the-corn]

TCFSV SBI x reader part 3

Seasons changed from Autumn to winter. Times has still been rough for me. I hadn't seen The Blade for about a month and a half. I was still bruised, still breaking, but I kept his words at heart. I knew he could take care of the people that had caused me so much pain, but I was scared. Scared of losing them-they were all I knew. Scared of the responsibility of living in my own at sixteen, scared I might be out into the foster system. There were too many things that scared me about the situation. I just didn't know what to do.

December 7th was when my world changed.

It was a relatively normal day for me so far. I got out of bed, went to school, came home. It had been snowing for the past few days. The roads were banked with at least a foot. It was cold, very cold. The weather app would say something like 15 degrees, but it felt like hell had frozen over. For me, maybe it had. Maybe I was trapped in with the creatures of the night.

I got home to yelling. Again, nothing unusual. Slipped up to my room. Did my homework. By the time I finished, it was about 6pm? 7pm? I don't remember. I went downstairs to get some food. That's where I went wrong.

My mom was standing in the kitchen. I greeted her quietly, eyes down. She didn't respond.

"May I have some food, mother?"

She looked up. Her eyes were rimmed red. She was clearly high at the moment.

"You-you fuck... Fucking whore!" She slurred. She grabbed my wrist. This itself wasn't where I had an issue. I was used to this behavior.

"Mother, do you need something? Can I help you with anything?"

" get out of my house. We have friends over tonight. They'll be using your room. "

"What? Mother, it's freezing outside! I can't spend the night out there!"

"You can and you will. You sure as hell won't be in this house tonight. "

She threw a coat at me. "Out!"

She shoved me towards the door. I stumbled, still in shock. "you're kicking me out? It's 15 degrees!"

She didn't respond, just walked to the door in front of me and opened it.

"If you don't leave right now, it'll be worse. And if you hang around here, I'm calling the cops. Now fuck off."

---

Techno wasn't worried about her. He didn't think about her. He didn't think about the fear in her eyes of the bruises on her face. If Wilbur or Tommy teased him, he'd say he just didn't want to owe anyone anything. Phil would look at him smiling. One time he tried to lecture Techno on emotions and how they were important and totally fine. He didn't stand for that. He was not attached to the girl. It's not like he was ready to take out the pair of assholes who called themselves parents at any second, as soon as she gave the okay. Totally not. He just didn't like that she had to live a life like that. so he gave her the Syndicate number.

Now, the Syndicate number is somewhat of a business number. Phil had the phone that it called, but he usually left it in the kitchen, so if it rang, whoever was closest would pick it up. Usually, the Syndicate used it for buisness, tip offs, and favors. It rarely rang.

So Techno stepped back. Didn't visit again. Tried to leave it be until she decided what she wanted. It wasn't until December 7th, at around 10 pm, did the Syndicate phone go off.

---

It was getting late. It had been dark for at least 4 hours. It had felt like the temperature was continually dropping for the first three hours. Now, it just hurt. Everything hurt. I was shaking but I wasn't cold. I sat down against a wall for a minute, then decided I needed to keep moving. When I tried to stand, I couldn't move my muscles. My fingers were starting to turn blue. It hit me then, if I stayed out, I wouldn't survive the night. I wanted to cry. I was scared. Lonely. Cold. I had no plan. I didn't know what to do.

Then, I remembered the favor.

---

It just so happened that Wilbur wanted some hot chocolate. He was hearing up milk when the Syndicate phone rang. Not startled, but slightly surprised, he went to answer it. They weren't awaiting any calls. What surprised him even more was the voice on the other end after he spoke.

"Hello, may I ask who's calling?"

"Can I please speak to Blade?"

It must be the girl that Techno had given a favor to. He hadn't said much about her, just that he owed her a favor and she was under his protection. She sounded young. And cold. He could hear her teeth chattering on the other end of the line.

"May I ask who's calling?"

"I'm Olivia."

" Alright, give me one sec. "

Wilbur went to walk up the stairs. Techno was in his room. Wilbur knocked on the door, and smugly looked at Techno.

"You have a call."

" What? "

"A certain girl called asking for you. You may want to get it?"

Techno stood and quickly walked down stairs. Wilbur followed, wanting to see if unfold.

"Hello? "

Techno spoke into the phone. Wilbur could hear her voice through the phone.

"Is this Blade?"

"Yes. What do you need."

"Um, can I call in my favor? "

" I don't know, can you?"

"is that a yes or a no? If it's a no, um, that's ok, I'm sorry I bothered-"

"Its a yes. What do you need."

"Oh. Um, can I ask for you to set me up with a warm place for the night? Or is that too much?"

Wilbur stopped smirking. A warm place? Really? She had access to all the Syndicate resources and she asked for one night somewhere warm? What was this?

"Nah, that's not too much. We can do that. What are you thinking? Hotel?"

" Um, I'm not particular. I don't want to trouble you. Just somewhere to go where my fingers won't be blue anymore. "

She sounded like she was trying to make a joke, but even through the phone Wilbur could hear the fearful undertones. Wilbur froze. He saw Techno did too. Was she outside? In this weather? With the wind and the snow?

"Can I ask where you are right now, Olivia?" Techno speaks into the phone, voice more urgent.

"I'm on Logsteadshire road. "

" Outside? "

"Yeah"

"And how long have you been there?"

"About 2 hours? Maybe 3?"

Wilbur spoke up now, whispering to Techno. "i'll get a guest room ready. Bring her here. "

Techno nods.

"I'm coming to get you. I need you to walk around, don't stop until I get to you, okay?"

" I can't stand up though. I'm too cold. "

Techno swears under his breath, rushing to the car. "Ok. Can you try?"

" it's ok, I'm sleepy. I'll just take a nap until you get here. "

"No, Olivia, I need you to try to stand, okay? At least keep talking to me."

" Ok. Actually, I changed my mind. You don't need to come get me. "

Technoblade was already speeding towards where you were, but he asks why to try to keep you talking. "Why is that?"

" I'm not even that cold anymore. "

This makes him press the gas harder.

"Then can you try to stand up?"

" Mmmmhmmm. "

It was quiet for a second.

"My legs aren't working. I can't feel them."

"That's ok, I'm almost to you. Then, we'll get you to a nice warm fire, and you'll have lots of blankets, okay?"

"Mkay. That sounds nice."

He turns the corner on to Logsteadshire Road, slowing his speed to look for you. You come into view, huddled in the snow. He jumps out of the car, quickly walking over to you. He reached down, picking you up. God, you're freezing. He sets you in the passenger seat, then goes around and gets himself in. You're still talking into the phone, so he reached over and buckled you up, then took the phone gently out of your hand.

"Hi Olivia. I'm here."

"Blade! I didn't know if you were going to come!"

"I owed you a favor, of course I came. We have a good place for you, we'll be there soon. You're gonna be okay."

"Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this, I'm sorry for bothering you. "

"It's fine. Just rest, you're safe."

Soon, he looks over, and she's asleep in the passenger seat. Quietly, under his breath, he mutters, " I'm glad you did call. "

[bitter-hibiscus]

hav a good sleep and good luck spending money !!!!!!!

okay okay i might have mentioned this to you before but because there's already the foot clam and then rise added the council of heads i think it would be rlly funny if all the different hidden city/yokai related 'factions' were named after different body parts especially the. the arms dealers. so like a lot of these gangs are joining together after the kraang left the hidden city a little bit shaken up theyre unifying they may even have the beginnings of stronger tech

so the hamatos are stretched pretty thin they're getting worn down on all sides and big mama js a very prominent antagonistic force on the day to day bc shes taken to having grunts film their fights with the various gangs to hold over her audience between nexus fights as rise in technology means alternate means of entertainment means less buisness for her. or something i actually hadn't thought of the details of big mama before typing this out but they confront her and she ends up injuring either raph or april haven't decided yet

tension is high around the lair bc no one has really had time to recover emotionally from the kraang and they're out fighting constantly (casey is actually p normal about it bc all he knows is fighting. casey needs therapy probably) so like they're all pissy they're all one bad day away from snapping

getting heavy inspo from the donnie betrayal arc from the idw comics my best friend the idw comics donnie thinks that forging an alliance with big mama is the only way they'll get the upper hand. leo is like violently against this because raph/aprils wounds are still fresh literally and figuratively and he absolutely does not want donnie giving his resources to whats in his eyes enemy #1. donnie disagrees and thinks that her influence in the hidden city and ability to find people and know when fights are happening would be really useful leo orders donnie to stand down (leader moment!!! so proud of him) but donnie refuses point blank. things escalate when donnie reveals hes already spoken to big mama and they've worked out a deal and it turns into a family wide argument

leos side is raph (im leaning toward raph for injury reciever i think. i just feel bad fridging him after the movie already did) april (april donnie fight!!! i also just dont think she would trust big mama) and like most of the 1-2 time appearance side characters. maybe casey sr too? but i could see her hoping mama can like get normaler because that's what she did. what are your thoughts on this

donnies side is mikey (who loves a redemption arc and wants to look out for donnie) casey jr (he probably knew mama in the future when there was literally no choice but to be allies) and draxum (dont get me wrong he HATES big mama but he agrees with donnie that shes useful to them + he likes mikey best) also todd. he gives them lemonade

splinter is probably more of a mediator than anything he would love for his ex almost fiance to decide to turn to good but he wants to trust the judgement of his eldest and the son he made leader so he stays with them and lets draxum watch donnie mikey and the gang

so donnie and mikey (+ co maybe) take up temporary residence in the hidden city probably in the battle nexus hotel. haven't decided if one of them has to fight in the nexus but it would be neat

they also 100% meet big mamas assistant who was very heavily implied in the show to be a turtle that was left in the lab and captured by big mama. it is venus she shows them secrets and shit and is like plot relevant and stuff

tagst mostly what ive got in my little brain so far im bad at wrapping things up so im not really sure how that would go yet. i do thibk its really funny that like half of donnies side are looking at big mama like omg i could fix her and he is telling them to shut the fuck up and draxum is solemnly nodding in the bg

OH HOLY SHIT I LOVE HTAT. I LOVE THAT SO MUCH

I think Cass/Casey Sr would be against Big Mama but only because one of the turtles would've told her about what she put them through and she'd be like AH! A WORTHY OPPONENT! BUT AN OPPONENT NONETHELESS!

[srslysierraa]

Since you’re desperate for requests

Hc for Tengen and Kyo with s/o who sews as a hobbie. Or s/o who is overall creative and crafty❤️

String of Us.

prompt ;; being a Hashira is draining, that's something even a crow would know. And though you may not able to stand alongside him in holding a katana, you can always be his recharge station with the way you hold a thread and a needle.

type ;; fluff! headcanons.

chars. involved ;; tengen uzui | kyojuro rengoku

a/n ;; I'm a bit confused on if i should make it that Tengen's three wives are still here, and we're like the fourth s/o, or if we're his only s/o. In the end i chose on the latter, but it's not even brought up much so it doesn't matter.

k.yojuro rengoku

You guys have known eachother even before his father went into his despairing phase.

Needless to say, both his father and Senjuro loves you.

You're good at sewing things together, or even making something from scratch, and even if it's not sewing – you're just happy to be able to spend time with Senjuro creating the weirdest of things.

Of course, you and Kyojuro does this too. Whenever he has time.

You'd make him all kinds of Haori, most having that flame pattern to go with his title as the Flame Hashira, and you best believe he has worn each one at least three times to a mission.

He'd brag about it too! Anywhere, anytime, if given the chance.

His Haori got ripped thanks to a demon? "Ha! It'd be a shame for me to return in such a state, though I'm sure (Y/n) would simply fix it with their extraordinary skills, i still cannot forgive you for ruining their hardwork!"

You made a new one for him to wear? "Why of course! (Y/n) made it for me you see? They are nothing but talented, being able to create such an amazing— what do you mean you already know what I'm gonna say?"

And not even just his Haori, you made a thing for his katana? He'll never put it off. Something you made for his uniform? Front and center on his chest, wearing it like a proud badge.

If something you made fell apart? Lost? He'd approach you, slowly, before asking if there's anything you'd like to do - like a picnic, a walk, anything, so he can soothe your mind (well, more like his) before telling you. That smile never leaving his face.

Or option two, wait until Senjuro's the one who tells you.

Also! You better believe he'll buy you stuff for your hobbies when he's out on missions, if he sees a roll of fabric with cute motives, he'll buy the whole thing and rush home as a gift for being away.

Or even cute trinkets he thinks you can sew on things. Anything he thinks you'll like, he'll get it.

All in all, he loves you, and finds the things you do to be endearing and interesting. 10/10 man.

t.engen uzui

See, if Kyojuro brags about you anywhere, anytime.

This man brags about you EVERYwhere, EVERYtime.

Unlike being with Kyojuro, most of the time you can't even do the things you want to do peacefully because he'll butt in with his smirk like- "Oh my, is that for me? That's definitely for me. I mean, look at how flashy it is!"

Like yeah, okay, i get it, now go away so i can finish this for fuck's sake-

IMMEDIATELY WEARS THE THING YOU MADE, no question asked.

Would even request stuff to you, he'd be back from a mission, all sweaty and stuff, and yet the first thing he'll say is. "(Y/N). I just had this flashy idea for a kimono i could wear for new years! And, and—"

He'll stop himself when he sees you tapping your foot with your arms crossed, before pouting.

"I meannn, can my beautiful (s/o) do something really cool and flashy for their obviously great husband?"

How are you going to get mad at that?

He'll watch you intently, it can be a bit annoying when he asks numerous questions about what is what, where goes where, and then boasting about how he could probably do it if you teach him.

But there's also moments where it's soft, and nice. He's sitting next to you, watching you focus as your hands worked its way with a needle, careful not to make mistakes.

The look on your face was enough to get him to smile, and of course lifting you up from the ground and spinning you around whenever you give him something new. Whether it's something he wants or something you made as a surprise.

Save Sanemi. He's so tired of Tengen's loud ass bragging about "MY (S/O) MADE THIS AND ALL OF YOU NEEDS TO SEE."

But he's just really proud, he'll wear anything happily, even if it's plain. That's how much he loves you. And he will spoil you with the things you need to continue your hobbies.

Who knows, you might even get yourself a new pair of kimono on your birthday. Really roughly made, but you can tell he tried especially with the amount of badazzle on it. One might even say it's quite flashy.

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

The Office

Pairing; CEO+Dad’s Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary; You and Bucky fuck for the very first time in his office at the company’s building.

Word Count; 4574

Warnings; NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI, undefined age-gap, “cheating”, language, cursing, Sir!kink, dirty talk, pet names, slight degradation, hair pulling, oral (male receiving), face-fucking, spitting, fingering, teasing, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note; I can’t get enough of CEO+DBF!Bucky so this will be the first of many fics like this! I hope people will like it and be interested in more! Jesus I need to bathe in holy water now. Hope you all enjoy <3

Main Masterlist || CEO+DBF Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Sign up HERE to join my taglist!

Bucky had begun texting you while sitting in a meeting with your dad and some of the company's other employees. You weren't doing anything important, just at home reading a book, so you were more than happy to text back and forth with him. The meeting was relatively standard and straightforward, it wasn't too much of an importance, so it allowed Bucky to talk with you without feeling guilty while the rest of them sorted out the details. Once in a while, he would chime in with his views and opinions. The text messages were pretty innocent, to begin with. The standard “hello” and “what you are up to” was exchanged between the two of you before more of the dirtier stuff ensued.

You thought about it for a second before you sent him an answer. You and Bucky had started fucking around a few weeks ago. You had met him when your parents had friends and colleagues over for a grand party like they had most of the time. You had just moved back home after living on your own in another city for three years, so this was your first time seeing Bucky in person. You had heard a lot about him and seen pictures when he started working with your dad, and they had formed a tight friendship, but you had never met him in person. He was even more handsome than what the pictures could show when you got introduced to him, and you had started to take a liking to him instantly. He had done as well because not even a week after you met, you and he had started a relationship. To begin with, it was only fucking around, but as the weeks went by, you felt like there may be more to it; sparks were felt between the two of you. None of you had done anything about it yet, mainly because it wouldn’t be received well by the public, your family most likely would disapprove and because of his wife Natalie and her whole family.

Which you didn’t find wrong at all that he was “cheating” on her with you. They both hated each other’s guts and would more than anything like getting a divorce. Bucky had told you that she had cheated on him multiple times, and he had done as well with her, but they played the happy couple when they were out in public because of their families. They got married at a very young age because their families are rich and powerful and wanted their kids to get together, so they are now stuck in this toxic relationship together. But soon, you and Bucky would have to decide where the next step of the relationship would go. Would you continue to sneak around, or would you form a proper relationship and come out for the whole wide world? It was only a matter of time before you needed to decide.

You and he would primarily meet up on neutral grounds. In his car or a hotel but on a few occasions, you had fucked in his or your parent's house in your room. This would be the first time you had done it where he worked; you assumed it would be in his office. It would be risky, but the thought about him taking you hard against every surface had your thighs clenching in need of him.

A soft whimper escaped your parted lips at his promise to fuck your brains out. He was never afraid to be direct with you about his needs and feelings. He always meant what he said, and that was one of your favorite things about him. You could always trust that he would be true to his words.

It would take you about 30 minutes to get over there, so you needed to leave right now. You did a quick freshen up before you called a taxi to get you over to the company’s building. Being in the car gave you time to think this through. You weren't sure how you and he would pull this off. Everyone would see if you entered his office and then wonder what was taking so long and what in the hell you guys were doing in there. In their eyes, you and Bucky weren't even friends. You barely spoke with one another when other people were around, as not to raise any suspicion. For them, you were the boss's daughter while Bucky was his partner, and nothing was going on between you two; besides, Bucky had his “loving” wife, Natalie.

The building stood tall as you arrived. Clouds were teasing rain, and it was a bit cold. The skirt you were wearing made your body chilly, but you kept it on for Bucky's sake. You looked up at the structure before you went through the main entrance. The security guards and the workers at the reception greeted you as everyone was well aware of who you were. You all greeted them with a smile as you walked towards the elevators. Entering the elevator, you became impatient as it took its time to travel up the floors to the main offices in the building. Your legs were uneasy as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. A thin layer of sweat formed on your hairline as you came up with scenarios with how you and Bucky could get caught. You shook your head, trying to get those thoughts down. You trusted Bucky, and besides, this was something you wanted to try out.

When you arrived at the floor, and the door slid open, you saw your dad, Bucky, and some of the employees coming out of one of the conference rooms. The meeting must have just finished. As you walked over, you tried to put on a smile to mask your nervousness. None of them had seen you yet, except for Bucky. He had you in his sight out of the corner of his eye, a slight smirk on his face as he saw you strutting over. You came to stand between him and your dad.

Bucky couldn’t have been more subtle with staring you up and down; your dad was standing right there after all. His tongue darting out between his lips to wet them, clearly having an image on his head about you bent over at his mercy.

��Hi, dad! Mr. Barnes, it's nice to see you again.”

Bucky gave you a simple nod of his head, acting like he isn't just about to have his way with you in his office with your dad not having a clue about what a whore his sweet and innocent daughter is, “pleasure seeing you again.”

“Sweetheart,” your dad gave you a one-arm hug as he had a smile on his face at his daughter visiting him at work, “what are you doing here?”

“I was in the area and thought I could drop by before moving on with my day.”

“Aw, honey. I wish I could spend some time with you, but we have a meeting again in 30 minutes.”

“It's alright, dad. I'm on my way out again anyways. Have some errands to run,” you lied.

“Excuse me, sweetheart.” He turned to say something to the others. While everyone had their attention on your dad, you turned slightly towards Bucky to give him a “chill out” look. The outfit you were wearing had him on edge and excited to have you in his office as soon as possible. Since the crowd was paying attention to your dad, it allowed Bucky to give you some instructions. He leaned in a little closer to you, but not too close in case someone saw.

“Here,” he slipped you his card, the card for the private elevator he had that went from the parking lot and up to his office, “take the elevator. No one is going to see you. Also, I want you to have your panties off before you come upstairs. You got it?”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. Your body felt hot and warm. The palms of your hands had a thin layer of sweat on them as you took the card from him. Your heart was hammering against your chest. This was really about to happen.

“Y-yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Like clockwork, your dad turned around towards you again just as Bucky leaned away from your body. “Well, I'll see you when I get home later, sweetheart.” He went to hug you again, and you returned the action.

“Bye, dad. Bye, Mr. Barnes, I'll see you around.”

Everyone said their goodbyes to you before you left. You went out of the building and around it to where the cars went down into the parking lot. Once down there, you made sure that no one was around to see you before you scanned the card for the elevator. The journey up to his office gave you the opportunity to take your panties off. You held them in your hand as you almost bounced up and down in fear and excitement for what was in store for you when you reached his floor.

When the elevator reached the office, and the doors opened, you saw that Bucky was waiting for you, his back facing you. He was staring out the big windows that decorated almost his entire office room.

“Did you take your panties off as I told you to do?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He turned around so he could be met with you. His tongue wetting his lips as he beckoned with his finger for you to come over to him, “get over here now.” Not even thinking for another second, you were quick to stand by his side by the window, waiting for further instructions he had to give you.

“Give them to me,” the palm of his hand was held out for you to hand them over to him. With shaking hands, you handed them over, and he opened his suit jacket to put them in the inside pocket so he could keep a hold of them.

“Is someone going to come in?”

“Shh,” his hand came to caress the side of your face—his thumb stroking your cheek. The simple action had you relax a tiny bit. “Don't worry. I locked the door, and besides, I told them not to disturb me. Do you trust me?”

“I do, Bucky. With my life.”

“Well then,” his finger pointed down to the floor, and you knew immediately what he was getting at, “get down on your knees for me.”

In front of the window of all things?! For everyone to see? But frankly, you didn't care. Let them see it all. You would give them all a good show. Besides, they wouldn't be able to know that it's you because the next building over was some distance away. All you cared about was to have his dick in your mouth right now and nothing else.

Like second nature, you quickly sank on your knees where you had spent more than once worshiping his cock, and this wouldn't be the last one either. He looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire at you being so easily submissive to him. His tongue peeked out from his mouth at you on your knees for him.

His thumb traced your lips as his other hand was palming the bulge in his pants. You granted him access into your mouth as you sucked and swirled your tongue on his digit.

“I can't wait to have your lips wrapped around me, kitten. Do you want me to fuck your mouth?”

You nodded your head and released his thumb from your mouth, “please, Bucky, I want it so bad.”

Your eyes followed his hands, your lips parted, as he undid his belt and pulled down his suit pants along with his underwear. Coming face to face with his dick, ready to be sucked by you. You wrapped your hand around his shaft and looked up at him through your lashes, waiting so that he could give your permission at proceeding, knowing how much he loved it when you waited for him to provide you with a green light.

“Suck it, baby girl.”

You opened your mouth to swirl your tongue around his head before you wrapped your lips around him so you could suck on his mushroom tip, your tongue teasing him. You could see that he was becoming impatient, so you engulfed him halfway through while massaging his balls in your hand. The action had his hand fist in your hair, making a gasp being sounded against him by you, as an exhale of satisfaction escaped him.

He needed more, so with the help of his hand in your hair, he pushed his dick further into your mouth till the tip of him reached the back of your throat, making you gag around him. The vibrations from your mouth had him shiver all over. Your eyes were watering as saliva started coming out the side of your mouth. Looking directly up into his eyes as you took whatever was left of him the best you could and bobbed your head on him, watching as his eyes struggled to stay open to watch how good you were taking him down your throat.

“F-fuck. That's so good, baby. You love sucking my cock don't you, pretty girl, hm? Such a good girl for me, aren't you?”

His dirty talk turned you on, and all you wanted to do was touch yourself at his words. You released him from your hold. Saliva was hanging from your mouth, and his dick was glistening all in it. Your hand jerked him off so you could answer his question, your voice almost like honey as you spoke. The wetness from you made it easy to glide your hand effortlessly on him.

“Yes, Sir.”

A deep groan was sounded from within his chest at the nickname he loved to be called by you. You on your knees so pretty and messy for him had his dick twitch in your grasp.

“Good, baby. Look at you. Such a beautiful mess for me, kitten.”

“Only for you, Sir.”

His head leaned back some as you took him in your mouth again. Your mouth is an expert at taking the whole of him. “Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Do you want me to cum in your mouth, baby girl?” He asked while slowly thrusting his length in and out of it. All you could do was moan, letting him know that you wanted to taste him.

He picked up his speed and fucked your mouth, making you gag around him each time his tip tickled the back of your throat, and you loved every second of it. His hands came at the side of your face so he could hold you steady as he used your warm and wet hole as he pleased. The sloppy sounds of your mouth, your gags, and moans around him only enticed him even more to reach his end.

His thrusts became uneven, and not a second later, he came deep in your throat. Sounds of pleasure dissolved in the office space as your mouth took all that he had to offer. You swallowed around him, milking him for all that he was worth, as you moaned at his delicious taste. You didn't pull away from him until he had spilled every drop in you.

“Show me your mouth.”

Pulling away from him, you opened it to show him all of the cum. He learned down till his face was inches from you and proceeded to spit in your opening. The action had your desperate clit pulsating.

“Can you swallow all of that for me?”

Closing your mouth, you swallowed all of him, his cum and spit, and opened up once more to show him what a good girl you had been at drinking all that he gave you. His hand was petting your hair as a sign of appreciation for you being so amazing for him.

“Such a dirty girl. Was that good? You love the taste of me, don't you, doll?”

“Mhm, yes,” you responded while licking your lips. Your hand was jerking him off again as you couldn't get enough of the feel of him. Your words and actions had him lean back some.

“You've been such a good girl, and I want to give you a treat. Do you want it?”

His words went directly to your tingling clit, and you needed to push your thighs together to get some form of friction down there.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Get on all fours on the couch, with your ass facing the desk.”

You got up and walked over the few meters to the couch, taking off your skirt and sweater until you were only in your bra, and then got in the position as he had wanted from you. He went over to his desk to have a better view of you—leaning on it as his hands held the edge of it. You supported yourself on your elbows as you pushed your ass up and out, earning a groan from Bucky.

“Like this?”

“Just like that. Now touch yourself for me.”

Pushing two of your fingers inside your mouth to get them wet before your hand went underneath you to circle your aching and needy clit, letting out a sigh of relief at being able to feel something finally. You pushed the two fingers inside of you, letting out a low moan and they stretched and penetrated your tightness, closing your legs some at the feeling. It was nothing like Bucky's fingers or dick, but it would have to do for now. You started to move them in and out of your tight pussy, going at a slow pace, to begin with.

Bucky hadn't said anything yet, so he must be enjoying the show you were putting on for him. He let out a moan just as you turned your head to find him pumping his shaft while watching you intensely as you pleasured yourself. Your teeth captured your bottom lip at the sight of him.

“Fuck, kitten.”

You pulled your fingers out and started circling your clit again, whimpering as you were close to your orgasm. The two of you held eye contact as you watched each other.

“So good, Bucky.”

“You're such a good girl, baby. Showing me how you touch yourself. Is this how you look when you're in your room late at night? Touching yourself like this while thinking of me?”

“Mhm, yes.” His words made your fingers move rapidly into your tightness again, wanting to get to that sweet release you were craving desperately.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum; please can I cum, Sir?” You pleaded, needing to get some form of relief. Tears were teasing to spill out of your eyes if you didn't get your way soon.

“No! Stop!” He didn't want you to cum just yet. Whining at his words but complying anyway, you knew you needed to listen to him, so you brought your fingers out of your hole and into your mouth to suck your juices off. You tried as best as possible to hold eye contact with him as you sucked and swirled your tongue around your digits, moaning at your own taste, as you swayed your ass from side to side for him.

“Fuck me, Sir, please.” He didn't hesitate for one second in getting behind your bent-down form at the speed of lightning. One of his hands caressed and grabbed one of your ass cheeks before it landed on your hip to hold a tight grip on it while the other held his shaft as he teased your fold with the tip of him.

“Please, Bucky, don't tease.”

“I'll give you what you want, doll.”

He slowly pushed himself in your warmth, wanting you to feel all of him. The feeling of fullness almost had you cumming right then and there. He filled you up to the brim, wanting you to feel all that he had to give, and you weren't one bit disappointed. He pulled out till only his tip was inside you before he slowly pushed himself into you again, doing this a few times to get you familiar with the feeling. He just wanted to cum right then and there at the tightness of your walls clenching around his throbbing dick.

“Bucky, please go faster. Fuck me, please,” you whimpered out, wanting him to fuck you completely senseless.

His thrusts were hard and fast as he fucked you into the couch, hips slapping against your backside, making you jolt forwards with each move of him. Your mouth hung open as silent screams came out of it.

“This pussy feels so incredible. Fuck, so tight.”

His hands held your sides while his fingernails dug in your skin, creating dents. He moaned out as he watched his dick disappear into your hole with every move of his hips. Your head was buzzing, and your face was buried deep in the cushions at the intense pleasure Bucky was giving you. “Oh god, please don't stop, babe,” you pleaded of him.

Bucky took a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back, making your back arch. You bit your lip at his rough and dominants actions. The hand in your hair and his abusive thrusts was too much and so intense, but you loved it to the fullest. Tears came out of your eyes as he was taking you so good from behind.

“You like this? Don't you, baby? You like when I fuck your tight and pretty pussy?” Take what belongs to me? Hm? Letting me fuck you like a whore while your dad is just down the hall?”

Your head was foggy from the incredible fucking he was giving you. The lack of answer from you had him unsatisfied, so he smacked your ass cheek hard, making you squeal out at the pain.

“Answer me!”

“Y-yes… I love your cock fucking my tight little pussy. Please don't stop, baby.”

“Such a good whore for me. I'm not gonna stop, kitten, I promise.”

The thought that your dad and everyone else that worked in the building was just out the door, not having a clue as to what was going on in Buckys office, was so intoxicating—not knowing that Bucky was having at it with the boss's daughter.

You turned your head, at the best of your abilities, to look at him. His eyes were shut tight, and his face in pure concentration as he moved his body against yours. He met your gaze, both of you looking at each other as you neared your orgasm. One of your hands grabbed onto his forearm that had a tight grip on your hip. His other went underneath you to play and tease your clit.

“Please, Bucky, I need to cum. I need you to fill me up, please.” The pathetic pleas for him to fill up your pussy was what brought forward his release and made him finish deep inside of you.

His seed filling you up was what brought forth your own release. The way your walls became tighter around him had his hips snap rapidly against you as he gave you all of his cum. Moans and soft whimpers on a loop by the both of you as the pleasure overtook all your senses. Bucky thrust through both of your orgasms, not stopping until you were both satisfied.

Your face was in the cushions as you tried to slow down your breathing. Bucky caressed your sides and peppered kisses all over your lower back. Praises being given to you for being such a good girl to him.

“You're so good to me, beautiful.”

He pulled out of your hole. The two of you hissing out as you both felt overly sensitive. Bucky helped to clean both of you up with a few wipes he kept on his desk. He made sure you were ok before he went over to the windows to grab his underwear and pants, pulling them on where he stood.

You put your skirt and sweater on and fixed yourself up as you sat and watched him get ready. God, he looked so handsome that it had your stomach burst out in butterflies. Now all you wanted was for him to hoist you up on his desk and take you hard against it. But you saw him have a look at his watch, his eyebrows furrowed together.

“The meetings in five.”

He came over to you just as you were getting up. You hissed out as your body felt sore and spent up, but good regardless.

“Are you ok? Did I do too much?”

That was Bucky for you. Always worried that he had gone overboard, but you always reassured him that you had enjoyed yourself.

His hands came to rest at the side of your face, looking you up and down to make sure you were all good. Your own hands went over his ones.

“Hey, I'm alright. Just a little sore, but you know I loved it, and I can handle it, Bucky.”

“I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I'm all good, babe, I swear.”

You took his face in your hands now as his ones traveled down to the small of your back so he could pull you flush against his body. His face leaned down some so he could capture your lips with his, giving you one of his sweetest kisses. His face moved down to suck and lick at the side of your neck in the most loving way.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he reached into the pocket of his jacket to retrieve your panties, ”I believe these belong to you.” That cocky smile of his decorated his face as the panties dangled from his finger. Right. You had almost forgotten about those. “Thanks.” You took them and slid them up your legs.

“I wish you could stay longer. There are more surfaces in this office I would love to take you against.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he held you close. You would love nothing more than to stay here and let him have his way with you, but you knew that he needed to attend the meeting because if not, people would come knocking on his door, wondering where he is.

“I know, me too, but you know my dad is going to come knocking on the door and wonder where you are if you don't show up.”

“Yeah, I know. C'mon, I'll walk you out,”

He followed you to the elevator so he could say goodbye to you. A kiss and a hug were shared amongst you before the elevator dinged that it had arrived.

“We can meet later tonight if you want? Natalie is going out; God knows where, so we can stay at my place this time.” He asked you. “Whatever you want, just let me know, ok?” “I would like that, Bucky. I’ll let you know when.”

You stepped inside of it and pressed the button to go down. A smile on both of your faces as you gazed at each other the few seconds you had before the doors slid shut.

“I’ll miss you, doll.”

“I'll miss you more, Sir.”

Thank you for reading <3 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated if you liked it! As well as a reblog to share it with others!

If you are going to join the taglist please show support in following my blog as well! Thank you :)

Marvel Taglist: @whothehellisbuckybarnes @x-goddess-of-nature-x @trulysuccubus @skyesthebomb @whoreforsamwilson @natashadeservedbetter @beth-winchester21 @capxwinter @missswritings @sariche @claudiaatje @myakai13 @paintballkid711 @ttalisa @teti-menchon0604 @J-e-nster @-im-fantastic- @donut-crazs @tatestripedsweater @uraesthete @mae-black @midnightdragonzero @julia2000love @yvngzxx @midnightzonzz @kaystacks17 @missroro @living-that-best-life @alwaysclassyeagle @gaudy-butterfly @thisgirlisonfayeeer @amelia-song-pond @kaitieskidmore1 @keithseabrook27 @acciosiriusblack @purpleelfwizard @bloodrosefruy @angelhairpastauwu @turnerlvt1999 @cigarettesonmars @stardust-galaxies @aayaissaa @laurentrvn @itzstacie-blog @axen-gers @i-love-scott-mccall @waywardwifey

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @sirrwritesalots @academiawhore @feescher @doyoumindifislytherin-1 @yippikaiyaymotherfucker @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @hemsbucky @lokiscollar

Let me know if you want to be added/removed!

If your name is in bold and crossed out it means I can’t tag you for some reason. My apologies!

[nightowlwriting]

summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you���re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

[mypoisonedvine]

The Wrong Idea | Lee Bodecker x reader

summary: you weren’t exactly a rebel in the eyes of the law, but that didn’t mean you cared for the corrupt, alcoholic town sheriff.  and that certainly didn’t mean you would care at all for him marrying your mother.  if only you’d known how much worse it could get...

word count: 4.5k

warnings: smut!! (heavy dubcon/noncon), age gap (reader is 19), stepcest, loss of virginity, pain kink, creampie kink, infidelity, degradation, oral (m and f receiving), spanking, choking, slapping, daddy kink, authority kink, subtle ddlg themes?, reader’s mom being toxic af

You’d never cared for the Sheriff.  Even you, being generally a well-behaved young woman, thought he was a little too intense and a little too corrupt.  Up until now, you’d assumed your mother agreed with you on that, because she never protested to your complaints about Sheriff Bodecker and his ‘fascist reign of terror’ as you called it.  Apparently that was a poor assumption, though.

“You… what?!”

“I never told you we were seein’ each other because I knew you had your childish rebellion against him and his police force,” your mother explained with a demeaning eyeroll.  “But now that we’re engaged, I can’t hide it anymore.”

“How long has this been going on?” you asked quietly, still in shock at what you were hearing— and unable to take your eyes off of the sparkling diamond wrapped around her finger.

“Oh, I’d say… about two months now,” she decided.

“Two—” you stopped and started over, so bewildered that you couldn’t finish your original sentence.  “You’re engaged after two months?”

“Don’t make that face at me, you look so ugly when you scowl like that,” she frowned.  Of course, she could never miss an opportunity to nag you.  “He’s a respectable man, and he treats me well.  The wedding is in three weeks— and he’s generous enough to let you live with us after that.  Says there’s a spare bedroom for you in his house.”

“His… his house…” you slurred, suddenly feeling light-headed.  “I’m… we’re moving…?”

“Yes, honey, and with your work ethic it’ll take you the whole three weeks to pack up, so you should start now,” she informed you with that cruel, fake smile of hers.

She walked away as you sat down on the couch, staring off into space, trying to comprehend what you just heard.  It’s not like you thought your mother was flawless or anything, or that you and her had a perfect relationship, but you thought she would’ve been a little more… gentle about all this.  She could do better than him anyways!  But she didn’t care about that, only money and status.  You could almost laugh at her small-mindedness to think the Sheriff of a nothing-town like Knockemstiff was actually plentiful in either of those things, but right now you couldn’t laugh.  You couldn’t even cry as you packed your things and said goodbye to the home you’d known your whole life.  You were just numb.

//

You couldn’t look him in the eye when you arrived at his house, duffel bags in hand and shoes stained with the dry red dirt of summer.  It was nicer than your old place, and if it were anyone else’s you’d say it had charm, but everything was tainted because you knew it was his.  You could sort of tell that this had been his bachelor pad for a while, but it had a half-assed attempt at hominess with the rug in the living room and a centerpiece on the kitchen table.  He even had a TV, presumably funded by bribes and all his other nefarious dealings— meaning you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to watch it.

“Nice to meet ya, properly,” Lee greeted, though his monotone didn’t come across as particularly impassioned.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” you mumbled quickly, hoping to get this conversation over with.

“You don’t have to call me Sheriff anymore, you know.  Not in the house, at least.”

You nodded but said nothing, following him as he motioned for you and moved into the hallway.  You trailed behind him, noticing the eerie lack of any personal effects on the walls (no family photos, apparently, and not much of a family to photograph in the first place from what you’d heard), and stopped when he reached the door at the end.

“This is your room,” Lee informed you stiffly.  Opening the door, you were horrified by the assault on your eyes of pink.  Pink everything: pink wallpaper, a pink fuzzy quilt, pink bedframe.  There were even assorted stuffed animals on the bed, disturbingly enough.

“When my mother told you she had a daughter, did she not mention that I was grown?”

“You may be nineteen, honey, but you’re nowhere near grown,” he scowled.  “She didn’t tell me she had a daughter until two days before the weddin’.  This is what I managed to... improvise, since then.”

You almost had sympathy for him, just in that you two were both victims of your mother’s eccentricity.  Almost.  

“Must’ve inherited your expensive taste from your ma,” he frowned.  “Sorry, princess—” the nickname made his lips curl like the word itself tasted sour— “but this’ll have to do.”

“Oh, I’m nothing like her,” you sneered back, “cause I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.”

“What are you two chatting about?” your mother’s voice called from the kitchen.

Both of you answered at the same time: “Nothing!” 

With a grimace, you dragged your bag into the room and shut the door in his face.  It was those little acts of rebellion that had to tide you over.  You weren’t audacious enough to do anything actually cruel, or illegal, but you weren’t going to make this any easier for him.

At first it was just refusing to leave your room.  That worked for a week, until you realized you were going to starve to death.  So then the only times you saw him were at the dinner table, which you made into a protest by pretending he didn’t exist and refusing to answer his questions.  You occasionally relented when he asked you to pass something from your side of the table, but you never looked at him while you did it.  

He didn’t seem angry or sad about your determination to avoid him, if anything it seemed like he was happy to pretend you weren’t there either.  And that should’ve made it easier, but for some reason it bothered you even more.  You realized that maybe his attention did matter to you, even though it was negative attention that you were hoping to inspire, but you knew that was ridiculous and you tried to fight it.  Still, for all your plans to never see him, you sure did think about him a lot.  You thought about where he might be, so you could be somewhere else.  You thought about what he must be doing at work, and how he was probably continuing to be a nasty mean drunk as frequently as possible.  You wondered if he and your mother were making love just across the house, although you were lucky enough to never hear anything.  Just knowing that could be happening made you feel sick, even though you realized it was none of your business.  

You sometimes found yourself listening for it at night, just in case.

//

Your mother had decided to spend her new husband’s money on a trip, but the man himself couldn’t tag along— too much work to do, apparently.  The prospect of being left alone with him was nightmare fuel, but you didn’t even try to ask her to stay… you knew she wouldn’t listen.  She’d been totally absorbed in her own world since the wedding, seeming to be very fulfilled by the social role of ‘Sheriff’s wife’ to the point that she had lost all interest in her former position as ‘your mom’.  

There was a balance to the silence with her gone, though.  You avoided him, he avoided you; it was a tense truce, but a survivable one.  At least without her, nobody was going to try to make you two get along.  Friday night was different, though.  This time when he came home from work, you knew you were stuck with him until Monday morning.  That thought made you realize that you needed to get out and you didn’t care if you weren’t dressed for it.  It was hot, and it was just a walk so nobody was going to see you in this miniskirt anyway, right?

Too bad Lee was sitting on the couch, still in his uniform, not giving you any mind but likely to harass you before you could make it outside.  You figured if you just walked casually enough, he wouldn’t even notice, so you made your way towards the door.

“You’re not going out like that,” he announced suddenly, seemingly without even looking up from his newspaper.

“Says who?” you deflected quickly with a raised brow.  It wasn’t that you wanted to pick a fight, but you just couldn’t understand why he would even care what you were wearing.

“Says the guy who doesn’t want you to give all the neighborhood boys the wrong idea.”

“What idea?!” you asked, crossing your arms.  He shot you a look, quickly raking in your body and outfit which made you feel more observed than you cared for.

“The idea that you’re a slut,” he explained coldly.

You gulped at his words but tried to keep a poker face.  You didn’t let it get this far just to give up.  You were so sick of his shit; what made him think he could boss you around when he’d never even tried to get to know you?

“What makes you assume that’s the wrong idea?” you shot back, fighting the nervousness in your voice.

You hadn’t expected him to stand up instantly, the coffee table wobbling a bit when his knee bumped into it.

“The fuck did you say?” he hissed.

With his teeth bared at you he looked like a predator, and you felt like small, helpless prey.  You tried to muster some of your former confidence, but everything came out shaky and weak.  “I— I said that maybe it’s not the wrong ide—”

He pounced, crossing the room and slamming you back against the wall, a hand at each shoulder; you instantly cowered, shrinking back and turning your face away from him as far as you could.  You never thought he’d put his hands on you like this.  Your heart was pounding so loudly that you were surprised you could hear his hoarse whisper.

“Watch your tone with me.  I’m not kidding around.”

“I’m an adult,” you weakly fought back, “I can do what I want.”

“Not in my fuckin’ house you can’t!” he bellowed.

For some reason, it all hit you at once.  All the emotions you’d been suppressing since your mother had gotten engaged— all the anger and fear and betrayal and indignation, they came bubbling up before you could stop them.  

“I don’t even want to be in your ugly fucking house!” you cried in response.  “I don’t wanna be anywhere near you!  You’re a fascist and a tyrant and a pig!”

You expected him to get more aggressive but he suddenly stilled.  It was the scariest anger, that outwardly-calm type that made your blood go cold.

“Go to your room.”

You didn’t question it, turning to walk away (any excuse to get away from him, right?), but you didn’t expect him to follow you in and shut the door behind the both of you.

You were paralyzed with fear as he stepped past you and sat on your bed.  It was sort of strange as you realized you’d never seen him in your room before.  He stood out against the somewhat childish decorations, but you were in no mood to appreciate the humor of the situation as he patted his knee.

“Lay across my lap.  Don’t make me tell you twice.”

He couldn’t possibly be doing what I think he’s doing, could he? you wondered to yourself, but did as he asked.  You realized you’d never been so close to him before, the warmth of his body radiating through his clothes.  He smelled like cologne and booze, although you didn’t think he’d actually had much to drink yet today— at least compared to his normal habits.  It was almost worse to think that he wasn’t acting on drunkenness now.

“It’s prob’ly too late for it, but you are in serious need of discipline, young lady.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, but your body reacted to it differently than you expected.

His fingers slipped between the top of your skirt and your skin, having to pull pretty hard to get it down due to how tight it was.  You bit your lip and hoped he wouldn’t notice your arousal, but as your pussy was exposed, you could feel the breeze from the ceiling fan and you knew you were undeniably wet.  You didn’t know why, but you were.

“Count them for me,” he instructed coldly and before you could ask what you were counting, he brought his hand down firmly.  You felt his wedding ring in the slap and it made you feel a little sick.

“O-one,” you stammered.

He delivered four more, alternating cheeks, and you tried not to react with visible pain.  But as the intensity increased, you realized that not reacting might’ve actually been making it worse.  Either way, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying out when the eighth made your whole body lurch forward from the force.

“Eight!” you squealed, but both of you noticed the way you pushed your hips forward.  Unintentional as it may have been, you were trying to rub yourself on his thigh, desperate to be touched where it felt like all the energy of your body had focused.  You were sure you’d never been so horny before, and now your clit was nearly throbbing.  What the fuck is wrong with me?!

He quickly delivered the final two slaps before grabbing your neck, hoisting you up until you were on your knees before him.  He examined your face closely and you tried to keep your lip from shaking.

“You’re worse than I thought,” he hissed.  “You are in dire need of a punishment.  You should thank me for going so easy on you so far.”

You realized when his grip on your jaw tightened that he was being literal.  “Thank you, for going easy on me…”

“Where’d that fire go, huh?  Guess you’re all talk,” he laughed.  

He roughly shoved his fingers into your mouth, moaning lowly as your tongue rubbed against the pads of his fingers.  “This fuckin’ mouth.  You just don’t know when to keep it shut, do you?  Come on baby, open up.  I’ve got a better use for it than your fuckin’ disrespectful attitude.”

He used his free hand to work on his belt right in front of your face, and your eyes went wide.

“Don’t act so surprised sweetheart,” he said with a hint of irritation, “this is exactly what you’re asking for.”

You gasped a bit when his cock was freed from his trousers, springing up and already red at the tip.  You’d never seen one this close before and it was intimidating in every way.

“Like what you see?  You’re so wet for it,” he purred.  You tried to speak but words abandoned you. 

It was all a blur as he held your mouth open and shoved his cock inside— it tasted like skin and salt, and the size made your chapped lips crack until you worried they would bleed.  His moans were deep and gravelly, making your skin break out into goosebumps as he pumped smoothly into your pliant mouth.  He slapped your face a few times, not quite hard but plenty strong enough to make it sting.  You winced with each impact, the tears which had welled from your gagging finally falling down and dripping from your chin.

“Suck on it, princess, like a popsicle… fuck yeah, like that,” he groaned, and your mind resisted obeying him but your body was completely at his mercy.  “Aw baby, ya look so good chokin’ on my cock.  Is that what you were gonna go do in this slutty little outfit you’ve got on?”

You tried to shake your head but he was holding you down, not even giving you a chance to breathe.  His protruding stomach rubbed against your forehead when his cock was this deep in your throat, and the disgust and fear somehow made your arousal stronger.

He let you go, finally, and you pulled back with a gasp and a cough.  You weren’t given much reprieve, though, as he started to tug at your blouse as well.

“No, wait,” you whimpered, weakly trying to bat his hands away.

“Wait?  I think I’ve been waiting long enough,” he growled.  “Your ma’s a fuckin’ tease, hasn’t touched me since I got her that ugly fuckin’ ring.  Let’s hope you learn from her mistakes.”

Your blouse was torn open and tossed aside, leaving you only in the pulled-up skirt and your bra.  Reaching up to cover yourself, you were discouraged by the shockingly-gentle brush of his hands. 

“Don’t cover yourself, sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured.  His gaze made you feel hot all over, and it wasn’t just because of the summer weather outside.  “Nobody ever looked at ya before?”

You shook your head, looking down at the floor.  A finger under your chin guided you to look up at him.  

“Nobody ever touched ya before?” he pressed, his stare boring into you.  You shook your head again.  “Fuck,” he whispered, but then he started to smile proudly.  “Knew you were a good girl, princess, you just didn’t wanna act like one for some reason.  You gonna be good for me now?” 

You nodded weakly, swallowing as you tried to comprehend what was happening.  

“Then I’ll be good to you, too,” he promised darkly, a shimmer in his eyes that made you throb between your thighs.  “Come get on the bed, pretty girl.”

You almost resisted, but it was your need driving you now, not your mind.  You had been waiting too long to let a boy touch you, and now that a man had touched you, you felt all kinds of wrong and yet craved more.  Before you had even finished sitting down beside him, he was slipping off your bra and pushing you back onto the quilt.

“Sheriff!” you yelped instinctively, a little disoriented as he started to climb on top of you.

He chuckled, clearly amused by your unexpected appeal to authority.  “Wanna know a secret, sweetheart?  Wanna know the real reason I said you didn’t have to call me that anymore?”  He leaned down, his breath hot and moist against your neck when he spoke: “Because it made me so fuckin’ hard when you said it.”

He pressed his cock, still wet with your spit, against your thigh; maybe just for emphasis, a reminder that he was still hard and wasn’t anywhere near done with you.

“What are you gonna do to me…?” you asked weakly, your voice so wavering and broken that you cringed just hearing it.  

“Just gonna make you feel good, princess,” he smiled, and before you could ask what that would entail, he was groping your tits in his large, calloused hands.  A low groan echoed in his chest, and you tried not to squirm as he teased your nipples between his fingers.  They were already hardening from the moment he’d touched you, but somehow it was getting even worse when he played with them, watching your face and surely seeing the shame you wore there.

His hands trailed lower, rubbing your waist, your thighs… you found yourself anticipating that he’d remove your panties, so much so that when he did, you quickly lifted your hips to help him slide them off.  You couldn’t believe how easily you were letting him do this to you.

“I can tell how much you want it,” he taunted lowly as the fabric slid down your legs and was tossed to the floor.  “I can smell how much you want it.”  He growled a little before diving in, licking a thick stripe through your folds and taking a moment right at the end to tickle your clit with his tongue.  “So fuckin’ sweet, princess; I knew you would be,” he praised.  You were forced to wonder how long he’d been thinking about this.

The noises were beyond obscene and you felt your face burning— but there was a burning in your gut, too, and shooting down your legs.  You’d never felt like this before (being a very good girl who never even touched herself), but you knew that if he didn’t stop, you would come.  And you really, really wanted to come.

Everytime he put pressure on your clit, your leg quivered involuntarily.  It was nearly too much, the sensation so powerful it almost hurt, but he pushed you right to the edge without knocking you off.

“Please,” you found yourself begging before you could stop it, “please, Sheriff—”

“I’m not your Sheriff anymore, sweetheart,” he informed you gruffly, popping up from between your legs with the entire bottom half of his face covered in your arousal, “I’m your daddy now.  Go on and beg your daddy to fuck you.”

Eyes shot wide open, you stared back at him in bewilderment.  Rage flashed in his eyes, and he snarled as his hand suddenly wrapped around your neck, tightening and choking you. 

“You heard me,” he groaned through his teeth.  “Beg me.  To fuck you.”

“Daddy,” you stammered, hoarsely fighting to speak through the pressure on your throat, “fuck me, please.”

He slammed his cock into you and you nearly screamed.  It burned and you instinctively tried to crawl away but, of course, his weight on top of you made it impossible.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned.  He laid down on top of you entirely then, slipping his arms under your torso and holding you tightly.

Each thrust made you feel like you had reached your limits, as if you couldn’t be stretched further which was probably true.  And yet, in spite of it (or worse, because of it), you found yourself moaning and writhing under him, even arching your back to make his movements smoother.  He laughed a little as he bit at the shell of your ear.

“You love it, baby,” he moaned, “you love my cock.”

You couldn’t respond, just sob as you clutched at the shirt still on his back, your jaw tight as you tried to bear the pain.  

“It’s not always gonna hurt like this,” he promised between heavy breaths, “s’gonna feel good soon.  Gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, pretty girl.”

Truthfully, you weren’t sure if that meant that this would happen again or not.  At the moment, you were incapable of thinking that far ahead, too focused on the way the sting of the stretch was melting away and morphing into such powerful pleasure that you couldn’t even see straight.

He kissed you, and only then did the weight of it hit you.  Who he was, what he was doing, what you were doing… it had been distant and vague before, but something about his tongue inside your mouth made you remember that the metal digging into your back was his ring; that the lips on yours were sworn to somebody else— and at that, the one exact person that made this so fundamentally wrong.

Tears welled in your eyes, gentle sobs shaking your chest.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he whispered, pulling back and kissing your tears away, “feels good, don’t it?  Feels good when daddy fucks you?”

You knew speaking would only make you cry more, so you only nodded your head shamefully.

“That’s my good girl,” he moaned as he fucked you deeper, harder, rougher.  Your fingers held onto the back of his neck, running through his hair and pulling him closer.  He kept mumbling praises but they fell on deaf ears, pleasure clouding your mind and making every hair on your body stand upright.  He didn’t stop as he reached down between your bodies and laid his hand over your stomach, growling with satisfaction at what he found there.

“I can feel me inside ya,” he grinned.  “Feel that, sweetheart?  Feel how deep I am in your wet little cunt?”

When you didn’t answer, you got a quick slap to the face.  “Yes,” you replied quickly, “yes, I— I feel it.”

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting you there until you nearly screamed.  You couldn’t figure out why something so objectively painful only pushed you closer to your peak, making every spot inside you more sensitive, but somehow it did.

“Gonna come, pretty girl?  Want daddy to fill you up?” he groaned against your ear, pushing down on your stomach even harder.

“Yes, daddy!” you sobbed.  “Please!”

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me,” he hissed, “don’t fuckin’ stop.  Keep milkin’ my cock and m’gonna fill ya up so good, princess…”

You couldn’t stop even if you tried— your orgasm hit you in powerful waves, your head falling back as your walls clenched involuntarily (as did your fingers and toes, so hard that your nail tore the sheets a little bit, which you wouldn’t notice until the next day).  He grunted as he came, pumping into you with each thrust until you felt more full than you ever had before, in a way you could never describe.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, him catching his breath and you losing yours as his weight threatened to crush you.  “Fuck,” he groaned as he sat up and pulled out.  He grabbed your legs and held them up for you, staring at your abused pussy and making you feel uncomfortably observed.

“Push it out for me, wanna see my come leak outta ya,” he purred, moaning a little when you did as he asked.  It felt even hotter as it gushed out of you, and you mindlessly bit your lip.  He tucked his softening cock back into his trousers, rezipping them and buckling his belt.  “We’d better get ya cleaned up, huh princess?” 

The bathroom wasn’t far, so he carried you, setting you down to stand on your own as he started to draw a bath.  You watched him, although you weren’t really watching him so much as staring into the void of space that happened to be in his general direction.  You were so out of it that you didn’t even register when he turned around and smiled at you with an air of pride.

“You look so good like this.”  

It pulled you out of your trance, though you had to ask him to repeat himself with a mumbled “huh?”

“I said you look good like this,” he explained, stepping closer.  “Fucked out, braindead, just my empty-headed fucktoy.”

“I… I don’t…” you began to disagree.

He used your jaw to turn your face to the mirror, and you gasped when you saw yourself: your hair was a mess; your whole face was red, especially your eyes and nose from crying, but plenty on your cheeks where he’d slapped you; your lips were swollen and slick; bruises were already forming on your arms where he’d grabbed you, and along your neck and shoulders where he had bitten you.

His form dwarfed yours as he stood behind you, looking at your reflection with a smile.

“Look at us,” he announced wistfully, “one big happy family, huh?”

[jeagerism]

heaven (it’s calling my name)

✒ word count : 7.1k

✒ characters : eren yeager x reader

✒ explicit warnings : smut, like graphic shit i’ve never written, u give eren brain (a blowjob), yes ppl call giving head giving brain, eren repays the favor, i think he choke u a little at one point, consensual sex bc we fuck heavy with that, eren wraps it b4 he taps it, he’s respectful and hot

✒ warnings : modern!au bc canonverse eren makes me sad, eren is the definition of "cold boyfriend who’s only soft around you", except he’s kinda not ur boyfriend, oh god, he calls you teach a lot, and sweet thing and pretty thing he just thinks ur an object, im joking, he’s really bad at history, eren is a little shit, he majors in criminal justice bc one day levi mentioned he’d be good at it, and eren looks up to levi cry cry cry, oh yeah it’s a college!au too bc eren would...be in col….my heart hurts, im down bad for a yt man

✒ summary : Eren’s an annoying type of pretty. The type of pretty that hurts to ignore.

✒ notes : fuck u mechelle, even tho u wont see this

You’re quite sure that you’re five minutes away from leaving Eren Yeager to lie in the mess he’s made for himself.

Sliding your notebook away from you on the library table, you sigh through your nose, pulling your phone from your pocket to check the time. The giant numbers on your screen are a cruel reminder that you’ve been waiting for Eren for going on thirty minutes now, going between sending him warning texts to cursing Erwin out in the shared group chat between him, yourself, and Levi. The passing time only makes you more and more agitated, watching the water droplets drip down the stupid drink you’d brought for him when you’d arrived earlier. 

A part of you curses yourself for deciding to take up tutoring him in the first place. 

Which isn’t to say you had a problem with Eren Yeager, at least not always. You’d see him fairly often before starting these weekly sessions, given the fact the two of you ran in overlapping social circles. You see him at parties, and game nights, and even the soccer games Levi always asks you to show up to. Some part of him just made you want to pull your hair out, from the way he fought with Jean at every social gathering, to the way you'd been forced to sit next to him during every spring break trip since you'd started college.

He was always too loud, too jumpy, too much.

Nevermind the fact that he looked terribly attractive most days, or that he was always the one to get everyone home safe if they drank too much, or that he’d bugged Erwin for his soup recipe because Armin had gotten sick one week.

He also never showed up to his lectures, and would always ruthlessly bicker with Jean whenever they were in the same room. You don’t think he’s ever been on time to anything your friends have invited him to.

Or to the study sessions he’d gotten Erwin to beg you for, you think. Dropping your head forward against the uncomfortable wood of the table, you release a quiet groan.

"How am I supposed to help him when he doesn’t try in the first place?", you’d sighed to Erwin. "He barely shows up for his own classes—which, may I add, he wouldn’t need a tutor for if he did—so what makes you think he’s going to come to a tutoring session with me?"

Every part of you is aching from spending so long cramped into the material of your chair. Brushing your shoes against the bag by your foot, you begin shuffling the papers strewn across the table into a neat pile, gathering your different colored folders together. Papers you’d spent forever printing out for Eren, because he’d complained about getting so many things mixed up. Folders that Eren had teased you for relentlessly during your first few times together, something about "history being white and not orange".

Just as you’re standing to swing your backpack over your shoulder, hurried footsteps meet your ears, a hand slamming itself down atop the table in front of you.

"I’m here." 

Rolling your shoulders back, you give the boy in front of you an unimpressed look. He doesn’t look the least bit sorry that he’s missed the crucial time you’ve been giving up for him, pale grey eyes trained directly on the hand you’ve got on your bag. Your eyes drag down his figure, across the hair that’s gathered at the back of his neck, run down sneakers and withering brown hair ties circling his wrist.

Your words come out in a flurry, "I have been waiting for you for so long that I finished an entire essay, Eren. I had other things to do today, things that could’ve been done if—"

Eren cuts you off, plopping himself down in the seat adjacent from yours. He gets to work pulling out a notebook from his backpack, scrawled writing labeling it for history. The straps from his bag are tattered, some parts held together by mere threads. You never comment on this, because you know the only reason he has one at all is because Armin had bought it for him as a Christmas present awhile back. His hands, ivory and gaunt, flip the pages over until he’s seemingly satisfied with where it stops, and he glances back up at you, waiting and calm.

"C’mon, Teach," he drawls, nodding his head for you to retake your seat, "don’t got all day. You’ve got other things to do, remember."

Something about the way he talks to you makes you want to strangle him, and shut him up, and everything in between. He doesn’t make any other moves than that, lips set in a straight line, seemingly uninterested in whatever you’re going to say next, as if he knows you’re not going to leave.

This is your fifth studying session you’ve had with him, and he’d been late for the first, and the second, and now this one as well. You’re doing this for Erwin, you remind yourself, and also because the sooner you helped him pass, the sooner he’d be out of your hair. 

As frustratingly captivating as Eren was, he also annoyed you to no end, and you know there were plenty of others that would agree with you.

However, the idea of getting up and leaving him here puts an uneasy feeling in your stomach that you don’t like.

So, with a baited breath, you drop back down into your seat, ignoring the corner of Eren’s mouth lifting when you say, "I thought I told you not to call me that, stupid."

Ignoring your comment, the brunette scribbles a circle onto the edge of his paper, humming as he waits for you to push your folder over to him. You do, tapping your finger against the page to guide him. He begins working silently, flipping pages in between bouts of silence while you wait for when he’ll need you.

After a few minutes, he looks up from the folder halfway, head still bowed the tiniest bit. "Thanks," he utters, refocusing after nodding his head to himself. 

Your face feels warm when you look away.

The following few weeks after that are better.

Despite endless warnings, he still shows up late, but the time gets less and less with every tutoring session you have. He shows up with his things all organized, and he even brings you bottles of water instead of the abnormal amount of Kickstart he always had with him. You almost think it's his way of making up for the tardiness. You almost want to kiss him for it. That realization has you cutting one of your meetings short, letting Eren and his confused look make his way home without the normal amount of work you send him off with.

During another Saturday evening spent pouring over books, nestled into the corner of the couch in your shared apartment with Levi and Erwin, you watch Eren with a curious stare. He’s got a pencil twirling in between his fingers, rambling on about some part of his lecture that he didn’t understand earlier today. His legs are clad in the stupidly soft sweats he’d stolen from Erwin months ago, a price for carting him back home after he’d puked on the younger’s clothes. He’s buried in the old mathletes sweater he’d coveted for ages, and his long hair is tied up in his same overly messy bun, select strands tailing out every which way; curling around the nape of his neck, hanging in front of his eyes.

"Teach?"

"Hm?"

Eren waves his hand in front of you, skinny fingers passing in front of your vision once more before he lets them drop back down to hit his lap. "Zoning out on me again?" The candle burning on the corner of your entertainment stand casts flickering shadows across his face, silhouettes dancing across the bridge of his nose, the height of his cheek. "Terrible instructing method if you ask me." He gives you a boyish grin from his side of the couch. "Don’t know how we’ve made it this far with that."

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest. "I don’t know how anyone else puts up with you." 

"You do, don’t you," he calls, and he’s not smiling anymore, simply observing the squinted eyes you give him. The upward motion of his eyebrows draws his lips into a tiny pout. "What, not up for admitting your crush on me, yet?"

"Shut up," the slight shake in your voice must not be noticeable, and if it is he makes no note of it, chuckling and leaning his head back into the cushions of the couch. 

"Listen this time, yeah? Otherwise someone might think there’s not a thought inside that pretty head." He starts back on his babbling of topics he’d found difficult, tossing in little jabs at his professor, about how stupid Jean had looked when he’d passed him on his way back to your apartment. 

A part of you thinks it's to keep you on your toes. Another thinks it's just an effort to get you to smile.

And you do. Because his teasing words weren’t as far off than he may have thought.

Eren has a maddening habit of messing with you to distract from the work he’s supposed to do, prying embarrassment from the center of your soul in order to achieve breaks from the endless studying he needs to pass his final.

Said finals are tomorrow, which gave you plenty of reason to show up at his door hours before, arms full of material he’d need to remember if he’d intended to pass. He’d let you in with a heavy sigh, body pressed against the front door as you slid past him, eyes taking in the warm beige of the interior. Something you were sure Armin and Mikasa had managed alone, seeing as Eren’s entire color palette consisted of blacks and the occasional splash of white and blue. 

He leads you past the living room, where Jean is stuffing his phone into his pocket next to Mikasa, who’s slipping on her shoes. She gives you a nod as you slip off your own, and Jean does as well, before his eyes are snatched away by Eren’s hand, extended with his middle finger poised towards the boy, slight smile offered along with his crude gesture. He keeps it faced towards him all the way until the two of you disappear around the corner, concealed by the hallway walls. 

"You didn’t have to do that," you murmur, kissing your teeth with a shove of your shoulder into his. Eren shrugs, uncaring as he twists the doorknob of his room, pushing his door open for you to step into his room. The front door closes as you do, and you look back at him in question.

"They’re going to some bullshit soccer game." He’s gone to every bullshit soccer game this season.

Laughing, you plop down on the edge of his bed, laying the armful of study material down onto his bed; you jerk your head towards where his history textbook rests on his bedside table. Seeming to get the memo, he hefts it into his arms, scooting up to the headboard of his bed. He gestures for you to do the same, watching your form as you lean back into the wall, sorting things as you normally did for your meetings. "Well, when you pass, we can go to the next. If it’s not too bullshit for you."

He doesn’t respond, and when you look back up his eyes are already on you. 

"We could?" You nod, humming. "Like, you and me?" 

"Yes, Eren," you reassure, growing increasingly warm at the devoted attention he has on you. "Wouldn’t mind if you wouldn’t. Plus, imagine how many girls in your chemistry class would be jealous that Eren Yeager is going to the football game with someone that isn’t them."

A quiet noise of disbelief falls from his lips, "You play off as shy a lot for someone who makes jokes like that." Another mumble comes from his direction, muffled by the hand he passes over his mouth. 

"What?"

He bumps his knee into yours, shaking his head. "Nothing."

"Ah, yeah right," you protest, slapping his thigh with the orange folder grasped in your hand. "What’d you say?" Again, he shakes his head, moving his head to see in front of you. "Eren." You move in front of his line of sight, lips pouting at him. "Just—"

Reaching out with a frustrated sigh, Eren’s hand cups your jaw, stopping you in your place. His washed out eyes meet yours, unwavering as he keeps you in position. "I said," he voices, not even pausing to blink, "what if I don’t want to go with anyone else?" His thumb brushes the apple of your cheek, soft and slow, his face moving closer to yours bit by bit. "You’re pretty," he whispers. There’s so little space between the two of you that you’re sharing the same breath; the little wisps of hair gathered at the front of his face tickle your own, and his nose nudges yours when he speaks next.

"Not so forward now, hm?"

And it’s hot. The air, his hand where it rests against the underside of your jaw, the way his eyes bounce back and forth between your eyes before they lower again. It’s suffocating, and you’re sure that any longer here, with him, will only make the next few weeks even more complicated than being in his presence did in the first place. There’s a numerous number of reasons why letting Eren get this close is wrong, nearly fatal. 

Which is why you pull away. There’s a surprised glaze that passes through his eyes before he’s back to his normal, dead stare. Goosebumps rise on your skin.

"I should, uh, go? We can, like, study more later. At the library, or the campus coffee shop, just not..." Not here. Pushing your hair behind your ears with a deep exhale, you gather your jacket and bag into your hands from the corner of his bed. You eye the colored folders sprawled beside him, but they’re too close to him for you to even consider going back for them. You could always ask for him to bring them to you later. In public. Where it wouldn’t just be the two of you, alone.

Eren Yeager is collateral damage. You know this. He’s failing a couple classes, he never showed up for those classes, hell, he’d even ditched your first studying session without a word to you. You’re astoundingly aware of it all.

Your feet tingle where they meet the floor, and you’re about to stand when he calls out to you.

"Where are you going?"

"Home?" You turn your head to face him, eyebrows raised in question. He’s got one of those stupid pens in his hands, twirling it around with a disinterested gaze that almost made him seem bored of you.

"Who said you could go? You’re staying."

"Why?"

Whatever resolve you have to leave him here clings desperately to the forefront of your mind. He leans back, back meeting the wooden headboard of his obnoxiously comfortable bed, eyes barely open, yet you know for a fact he’s watching you anyways. And as he opens his mouth, lips tilted up at the corners like he knows something you don’t, you can feel that resolve slipping through your fingers like water.

"To help me out."

"Eren."

His head tilts to the side, gesturing for you to move forward. "Help with school, Teach." His voice sounds teasing, eyebrows raising. "That test is tomorrow, so unless you’re planning on teaching me on the way, you’re staying." Tapping his finger against the textbook now open across his thighs—when the hell had he done that?—he sighs at the squinty eyed look you’re giving him. "I can call Armin if you don’t want to." And then, quieter, he says, "And I won’t try and kiss you again."

I’m not sure if I want that, you think. What comes from your mouth is different, more practical, controlled. "Yeah?" 

"Scouts honor," he swears, shrugging his shoulders, finger still prodded into the pages of his book. The comforter is soft underneath your fingers when you sit back, scooting back up beside him. Once your back meets the headboard, orange folder in hand, you nod your head. After a few seconds of silence between you, other than the sounds of shuffling paper and humming, another quiet murmur comes from his way. "Not unless you want me to."

"Eren!"

"Chill, I’m ki—I’m just kidding!"

"This is bullshit."

It’s the fourth time Eren’s said that in the last thirty minutes, becoming increasingly more annoyed with the information presented to him with every minute that passes. You can’t blame him though. He’d worked silently beside you for another four hours after your almost kiss, other than the times he’d ask you about something he’d read or check to see if he’d gotten an answer right. And even your hands were cramping up from writing corrections on his fake tests, the words swimming on the paper.

"You're almost done," you comment, pen scratching against the paper with every letter you write, "here—you even got most of the questions right on this." You toss the stapled bunch of papers over to his side of the bed, the two of you having migrated to different spots during your endless working. The papers hit the bed just beside his knee. 

Eren eyes them with quiet disdain, but picks them up anyways, scanning the words for less than a second before he lets it fall back onto the mattress. Despite his attempted disinterest, you catch a glimpse of a small smile when he looks back down at the textbook in his hands. 

"Does that mean we can take a break?" He reaches up, hands clasping above his head to stretch. A soft groan escapes, eyes closing. He looks tired, you notice, strands of unkempt hair invading his face, mouth set in a tiny grimace. "I’m tired of reading about old people and the Mediterranean Society—"

"Mesopotamian," you correct, but he’s already sliding off of the bed, your words falling on deaf ears. He stretches again once he stands, his shirt rising to expose pale, silky looking skin. Checking the time on your phone, you hum in thought. "Fifteen minutes. Then we go back to working. If we work fast enough, we could be done in...an hour?" 

Nodding his head, Eren brings a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Be back in a second. Want anythin’?" His eyes pass over you while you shake your head, washed out grey feeling like needles on your skin. He passes through his door without another word, pulling it closed gently behind him.

Sighing, you lean your head against the wall, flexing your hands to work out the cramps. You’ve been writing for hours, either correcting Eren’s mistakes, writing out guides for what he needed more work on, or the piles of work you’d needed to work through on your own. You close your eyes, waiting for Eren’s return while still wringing your hands out.

"Falling asleep on me already, Teach?"

Said boy plops down on his bed, resuming his previous position. He’s got two bottles of water in his hand, one of which he holds out to you. He eyeballs the way you rub your hands after accepting it, still attempting to remove the kinks. 

"No, sorry, just ready to get this over with." Grabbing your pen from where it lays between the folder in your lap. "Ready to—what’re you—" Eren pulls the pen from your hand, tossing it to the table beside his bed, where it rattles before rolling and hitting the floor. "Hey," you whine, eyebrows furrowed at him.

He envelopes one of your hands in his, holding it stationary before slowly beginning to knead his fingers into the muscles in your hand. 

"You kept wincing every time you wrote something down earlier," he explains, not bothering to look up to see your reaction. You’re almost thankful for that, widened eyes trained on his face, then where his hands are holding yours. "And seeing as it's kind of my fault you’re doing all this anyway, figured I should do something to help." He continues massaging your hand, switching to the other not soon after. 

Still watching him, you tilt your head to the side in curiosity. "Why do you even take history anyways? You hate it. And you’re...not very good at it. No offense."

His gaze travels back up to yours at your words, seemingly unamused at your jab. "Shut up," he replies. Scooting even closer towards your spot against the wall, he huffs. "I forgot to sign up until the last day sign ups were going on. Accidentally checked off the class and now here I am." He shrugs, and stops massaging your hands. However, he doesn’t let them go, holding them in his hands, resting on your legs. "It’s a Gen Ed course, so I was gonna have to take it eventually anyways."

Eren’s eyes on yours make you realize that you’re just sitting here, too distracted by holding his hand and hearing him speak softly instead of finishing what you need to do now. 

"We should really go back to studying. Got alot more to do."

He raises an eyebrow. "Do we?"

"You’ve got a final in fifteen hours and we still have so much to go through." You suck in a breath, releasing it slow and steady, shoulders relaxing.

His grasp slides up from his hands to just below your elbow, hold light. "Hey, Teach?"

"Hm?"

"Can I try something else instead?"

Your heart jumps in your chest, and even though you know what he’s going to do, you nod your head anyways. Even though you’d been hesitant about it before, you want him to kiss you anyways.  

And I won’t try and kiss you again. Not unless you want me to.

"Yeah," you whisper, already leaning towards him. 

He pulls you in by his hold on your arm, a little too fast, chest knocking into his with a shallow breath. He kisses you with fervor, his lips fitting against your own. You move forward again, Eren’s head tilting back to accommodate the decrease of space. Rising onto your knees, you slide your way onto his lap. The crinkle of paper meets your ears, and you disconnect your lips as you look towards where the noise came from. Eren groans in annoyance, snatching the few stray papers and folders within his reach up, and tossing them over the side of his bed. He even shoves his history book to the floor, hitting the carpet with a loud thump. 

"There," he grits out, pressing a kiss to the edge of your mouth. "Now stop worrying about the stupid work and—"

"Can I suck you off?" 

The words have him freezing in his pot, lips still working around the middle of his sentence. Splotches of pink begin flooding his face, and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck with a muttered curse. "You can’t just say things like that, you know." The steady stream of air from his breathing makes you shiver, hands steady on his shoulders, fingers smoothing over the muscles of his shoulders underneath his shirt. His cheek is warm against your shoulder, and a small part of you revels in the glory of making him flustered. "Not after how much I," Eren breathes, lips skimming over the sensitive skin of your neck.

"How much you...?"

Slowly, Eren removes his face from its hiding spot, pulling back with baby pink cheeks. "How much I’ve wanted you before. How much I want you now." His fingers trace shapes into your sides, and for once you think you see something other than disinterest in his eyes. "Pretty hard not to notice someone like you, Teach."

Surging forwards, you connect your lips with his again, messy and all teeth and tongue. His mouth is warm against yours, nipping at your bottom lip for access, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You pull back, huffing at the way his lips chase yours. Sliding back off of his lap, you push your knees into the soft mattress, sitting pretty and quiet before him.

You’re pretty sure you’re way too far in to be embarrassed now, what with you asking to give him a blowjob a mere two minutes ago. But when he’s looking at you like this, watching you through lidded eyes, you’re still, the prickling feeling of self consciousness hot on the back of your neck.

"Getting all shy on me again?", Eren murmurs, eyes low and dark. The intensity of his gaze makes your stomach clench in anticipation. 

Breathing in to try to calm your trembling hands, your hands reach for the strings of his sweats, pulling them undone with bated breaths. You tug the fabric down enough to reach inside his boxers, pulling the length of his dick free. Hesitant, you wet your lips, eyes locked onto the path of veins that stretch to the underside of his cock.

"Hey", Eren breathes, sliding his hand along the underside of your jaw, soft as he tilts your head to face him. "We stop anytime you say so, yeah?"

You nod, humming despite the part of your brain telling you not to embarrass yourself. You brush your fingers over the pretty head of his length, excitement racing through you at the muffled groan he releases. A quiet hiss escapes Eren, hands twitching at his sides, fisted into the grey sheets. He’s hard when you take him into your hand, barely grasping it with your hand loosely wrapped around the base. 

"You can grip it tighter than that you know," he murmurs, head tilted to the side, cold eyes taking in every movement you make, "you’re not gonna hurt me, pretty thing."

Heat spreads from the back of your neck to your cheeks. "Okay, uh, yeah, I..." You readjust the hold you have on his cock, wide eyes jumping back up to meet his at the groan that rumbles from his throat. "I don’t wanna be bad at it." 

"Bad?", Eren exhales, watching as your hand begins stroking up and down the length of his dick, hips stuttering, pushing it even further into the warmth of your hand. Swallowing, his next words are choked out, "I don’t think you could be bad at this if you tried." He settles even further back, watching as your pretty hand works his cock up and down. 

You give a few more experimental pumps of your fist, drinking in every moan and twitch. Beads of pre cum drip down from the tip, following a  direct path down until they meet your fist, adding lubricant to the steady stroking of his cock. When you look back at him, eager to commit the moment—the moment you made Eren Yeager helpless—to memory, your heart jumps in your chest at the sight before you.

Eren’s eyes are still on you, just barely able to see from the lazy drooping of his eyes due to the pleasure. God, he’s stupidly fucking pretty. The type of pretty that makes you angry; but also the type of pretty that makes it easy to move forward, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. "Shit, you’re..." It takes almost everything in you to continue instead of getting lost at how good he looks like this—head tossed back against his headboard, small whines and breathless praises thrown into the air between you. "Oh, fuck, you can...yeah, like...like that. You’re so good." You swirl your tongue around the tip, taking as much of him as you can, jerking what you can’t fit in your mouth with your fist. 

"Hey, shit." The hand cupping your cheek guides you backwards, lips disconnecting from the head of his cock with a soft pop. A string of spit connects your lips to the tip, catching the light from his bedside table. "Pretty," Eren whispers, thumb swiping over the mess of spit and pre cum that covers your chin. He drags it across your bottom lip, gathering it and dipping the finger back into your mouth. Lips closing around it, you pause at his unblinking stare, before hesitantly swirling your tongue around his thumb like you’d done to his cock; another deep groan comes from the swell of his throat. "You’re killing me, Teach."

He leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his firm grasp on your chin keeping you pulled against him. He moves you backwards enough for your elbows to meet the mattress underneath you, back falling against it soon after. From above you, Eren looks ethereal, lips puffy, cheeks and the tips of his ears tinted pink. He abandons his hold on your chin for placing his hand beside your head, caging you in between both arms. "Wouldn’t mind seeing you like this more often."

Dipping back down to you, his nose bumps into yours as he reaches down, palm sliding across the expanse of your thigh, pulling it to rest against his hip. His fingers stroke the skin, soft hum reverberating from him. 

"You’re so soft."

Your head is mush at the feeling of his hands all over you, lips smoothing over every patch of skin they can find. His hand travels from its place on your thigh, fingers teasing the edge of your hip, trailing up and around your navel, and over the fabric covering your chest before he rests it against your throat. His fingers leave a pleasant weight at the base, just barely enough pressure to know they’re there. Eren’s hair falls in a curtain around him as he presses his mouth to your own, wanting and desperate. "Want me to touch you, pretty thing?" 

He gives your throat a final squeeze before abandoning it in favor of tracing his hand over the area where your thighs meet, teasing his fingers over the space between them. "Want me here?" 

"Please," a whimper accompanies the forward grind of your hips against his hand, something that has him chuckling. You’re too desperate to be embarrassed, eyes stinging with tears. "Please." 

Eren presses another opened mouth kiss to your lips, before trailing down, peppering kisses across your neck. He continues his journey down, pausing in between to mark soft spots of skin, temporary tattoos that resemble his desire, until he’s resting his cheek against your inner thigh. Glancing up, Eren’s lips lift upwards in the tiniest of smiles. The strands of hair framing his face tickle. "Still okay?"

Nodding, your chin brushes your chest when you meet his gaze. "Yeah, just," an exhale, "want more." A few beats pass, eyes darting back and forth between him and the grip he has on your thigh. "Please."

He huffs out a laugh. "Since you asked so nicely." Tapping against the side of your hip, Eren loops his fingers through the band of your shorts. "Up." At his command, you lift your hips from the bed, letting him tug the shorts and underwear down your legs, tossing them somewhere behind him. The first touch of his fingers against your core makes you cry out; he tugs your thighs open further, your cunt open to his fingers completely. His fingers dive between your folds, welcomed to the wetness gathered there. Another lewd whimper falls from your pouted lips.

"You’re so noisy," he scolds, thumb rubbing gentle circles on your clit, tutting when another stuttering moan comes from your mouth. The hand that’s not making a mess of you is clutching the skin of your thigh, keeping it pressed into his mattress. "Barely even done anythin’, and you’re this loud." His hand cups your dripping cunt, middle finger sliding between your folds with ease. "You sound so pretty though, don’t you?" Eyes fluttering shut, you drag your bottom lip between your teeth to quiet yourself, hips pushing themselves against his touch. "Ah, eyes open, sweetheart." Your thighs twitch ever slightly, hole clenching and sending a fresh wave of arousal to meet Eren’s fingers. 

"Can’t," you whine, voice cracking. His fingers slip even closer to your entrance, making you clench around nothing, desperate for something. Your head drops back even further as the brunette sinks two digits into your little hole, hips attempting to arch off the mattress. "E-Eren!" 

"You can’t," he repeats, working his fingers inside of you with a disapproving hum. "Baby’s gone stupid over my fingers already, hm?" A short cry is given as his answer, whining as his fingers slip out from inside of you, leaving your core empty once more. Another few seconds pass before something hot fans out against your swollen cunt. "Gonna let me make you cum, sweetheart?" 

You nod hurriedly, your hips canting into the air, only for them to be pushed back down. 

"Use your words, sweet thing. Not too fucked out that you can’t tell me what you want, are you?" Wet fingers scale your side, all the way up to your chest, where he cups your breast through the material of your shirt, swiping his thumb over the cup of your bra. "Wanna come, yeah?" 

"Y-Yes, Eren, please make me come, I—" Fisting the cotton material of his blanket, your head dips even further back into the mattress. 

Chuckling, Eren’s hold on you tightens, and he pulls you closer to him, nose brushing the inside of your thigh. "Don’t worry, pretty baby," he drawls, teeth nipping at the inside of your thighs, "I’ll make you come." Eren’s tongue flattens against your slit, pulling a long, drawn out whine from your throat. He’s got his forearms wrapped securely under your legs, mouth pressed perfectly against your core. His tongue traces circles against your clit, before sucking the bud into his mouth.

He’s cocky enough without you shouting his name like a prayer, but you can feel the rumble of his words as much as you hear them when he says, "Fucked so stupid all you can think of is me, huh?" His tongue dips below to lap at your juices before dragging up to tongue at your clit; you keen, chest heaving. You let go of your grip on the sheets, hand clumsily travelling towards where his is wrapped around your thigh. He flips his hand over, palm up to meet yours, fingers tangling together when you slide your hand into his. His touch is grounding, fingertips tingling where they press against his own. "Don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this; wanna do this every day. You’re so wet, so pretty, aren’t you? Just for me?"

"Yes," you choke out, tightening your hold on his hand, squeezing it harder and harder, "it’s all for you, Eren, o-only for you."

"Good," he calls, fingers joining his ruinous descent of your cunt, swiping through the wet mix of spit and cum, stroking up your slit. Eren tucks two fingers into your entrance, pausing once they’re knuckle deep, seated within the warm, wet walls of your cunt. "Gonna make you come, yeah?" He starts on your core with a newfound pace, fucking you with his fingers eagerly. His tongue dances over your clit, adding fuel to the loud squelching made every time his fingers sink back into your cunt.  

Your juices coat his fingers entirely, making it easy to slip them in and out of your tight hole. Your core feels full, stuffed with his fingers, entrance stretched by the scissoring motion of the slick digits. Lewd moans and whimpers fall left and right from your pretty mouth, mixed in with shouts of his name, begs for more. A wave of pleasure crashes through you, stomach clenching tight, your cunt clamping down on his fingers. "E-Ere—" The boy between your legs takes one last lick against your messy slit before you fall apart, body shaking underneath his hold. Legs attempting to close around his head, Eren pushes them back down, greedily lapping at the cum gushing out of your sweet cunt.

By the time your breathing has returned to normal, he’s pressing his lips against the inside of your thigh. Your hand is clutching his in a death grip still, to which you blink bearily at him, lower half still tingling from the aftereffects of your orgasm. Eren lifts himself from between your legs, trailing open mouthed kisses up the base of your stomach, pushing the material of your shirt up to make room as he goes. He stops just below your breasts, biting a final kiss there. "Still good?" 

Nodding shallowly, your hands tangle into his hair, pulling his face down to your level. His eyes stare through you, pale grey making your core clench around nothing once more. "Think you’re pretty, too," you murmur into the space between you. He pulls back with a short laugh, stretching his arm to pinch the hem of his shirt between his fingers. Quickly, he pulls the offending material up and over his head, throwing it to the other side of the bed. His eyes scan the bedside table to his right; it gives you a chance to ogle at the bare skin before you, contracting with each inhale and exhale. Reaching down, Eren opens the drawer, rifling through the contents before coming back with a square foil packet between his ring and middle finger. 

Bringing the packet to his mouth, his teeth rip into the side, dragging the excess away. He works the condom out of the packaging, letting the wrapper fall to the floor beside his bed. Rolling the condom over the head of his cock, Eren continues until it’s resting at the base.

"You would be the type of guy to have condoms in your bedside table."

Scoffing, he drags you closer by your ankles, slipping his hold up underneath your knees to slot himself between your legs. "I got them for you."

"Who said you would’ve ever gotten to use them?", you laugh.

Eren grips the base of his cock, sliding it through your folds. "Guess I don’t have to worry about that now, do I?" He looks as good as he always does, sweat beading on his forehead, eyes trained on the place where your bodies meet. Letting your slick coat his cock, he pushes his hips forwards, tip prodding at your entrance with a choked moan. The head of his dick sinks into your heat with ease, your last orgasm making your walls take him in with no problem. 

"Look at you, pretty thing," he growls out, "taking my cock so well." He doesn’t stop until his hips are flush against yours, pelvis brushing against your abused clit. Eren rolls his hips, his dick sliding from back from your hole, before being sucked back into your greedy cunt. Your nails dig into the bed, letting out stammered whines and pitched mewls as he fucks into you. His cock brushes your sweet spot, drawing a near pornographic moan from your mouth. "Such a perfect little cunt, taking me like I was made for you." He taps his finger against your clit, rubbing the swollen nub in fast, circular motions. 

"So...So good, Eren, I..." you cry out, mouth agape, legs beginning to tremble with pleasure. Your cunt leaks steady onto his cock, soaking his length with your juices. Clenching around him, your cheeks warm at the moan that Eren gives. His pace becomes rushed, pounding against the spot inside of you that makes you see stars over and over again. The delicious drag of his cock against your warm walls makes you crazy, body jerking with every sharp thrust into your pulsing cunt. The pitch of your cries is so loud Eren smushes his thumb against your lips. And without thought, you take his thumb into your mouth, velvet tongue encasing the digit.

A growl slips from his mouth, eyes rolling slightly at the sight. Each moan that you release vibrates against his thumb, serving towards his hips snapping against your pelvis harder, the sound of skin slapping skin reverberating throughout the room. "Come," he commands, cock setting a bruising pace against your slit. "Come around my cock, pretty thing."

His words have you keening around his thumb, your body going into overdrive at the sparks of pleasure that shoot through your entire body. Eren continues his short thrusts into your cunt, panting before he goes still, a pleasant, unfamiliar warmth invading your walls. He goes still over you, releasing one final, drawn out choked groan. After a moment, he removes his thumb from where it's resting against your tongue, his cock slipping out from your wet hole, and collapses beside you with a short exhale. Eren wraps an arm around the front of your waist, laying it there for a second, still, before pulling you into his side. You rest your cheek against his chest, body still buzzing. 

Once your breathing returns to normal, feeling returning in your legs, you wet your lips with a laugh. "We never finished reading the rest of the material, you know."

Eren’s chest shakes underneath your head, cheek vibrating with the deep rumble. "Fuck Mesopotamia, Teach." He walks his fingers down your arm, all the way down until he’s lacing his fingers with yours. "But we could always do some more studying."

You hum, even though your eyes are practically already closed, body feeling heavy and warm. You’re leaning into him more, nearly half asleep when another rumble pulsates against your cheek.

"Sure I’d remember anything if your study methods are jumping me." 

You’re walking back home from your final class days later when your phone buzzes in your hand. Unlocking it, your eyes zero in on the notification on the screen. It’s from Eren, and your lips tilt up gently into a smile. 

He passed his final with an eighty-nine. 

[blessedlance]

pretty baby.

[r18+]

[wc:] 4k

[cw:] sub!atsumu, softdom!reader, femdom, oral (f. receiving), riding, pegging, mommy kink, puppy kink, minor dacryphilia, collar-play, restraints

! haikyuu manga timeskip spoilers. atsumu is 24. !

a/n: oh my god i haven’t written for leisure in literally 10 years i hope this is bearable LOL. @luvsicksubs​ wrote a lil tidbit about sub!atsumu a while ago and i have not known peace ever since so big thank you to ari for the inspo! pls enjoi :9

Atsumu’s been gone lately. A lot.

 Too much.

 You know it’s not his fault. The Jackals' practices have been brutal lately. So when Atsumu does eventually trudge his way back to your shared apartment every evening, he can only muster up enough energy to shower and collapse into bed. You’ve had to wake him more than once, chiding him to get up and at least dry his hair before bed.

“You can’t afford to get yourself sick by sleeping with wet hair, ‘Tsumu.” You’d whisper, shaking him gently awake. Usually he’d just groan in response and bury himself further against your body heat beneath the comforter--unwilling to give up even a second of precious, blissful sleep. You’d even gone so far as to physically pull his heavy, six foot athlete’s body out of the bed and into the bathroom to dry it for him once or twice.

It’s for his health, you reason. You can afford to pamper him a little--especially when he’s been working so hard. And the way his body slumps while he sits, his features softening--long eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks as he dozes off into half-sleep at the feel of your fingers tussling his hair with the gentle heat of the blow dryer… He becomes so soft in those moments, like putty in your hands.

It’s dangerous, because it makes you crave the sight of him like this--fragile and reliant on the comfort of your touch--even more.

You sigh. Reminding yourself again, for seemingly the millionth time since this excessive practicing for the championships started,

‘It’s not his fault.’

He’s been good. So, so good. Trying so hard to make sure you know he loves you and he’s sorry. Texting you to check in whenever he has the chance.

 > how are you today?

> how’s work going??

> what’s for lunch??? ლ(≧ڡ≦ლ)

 Sometimes sending videos of himself and Hinata hashing out new plays (only the ones they’ve mastered, though. You may be intimately familiar with every embarrassing piece of him, but he still wants to try to look cool in front of his girlfriend.)

And it helps. It really does. But you also know the texts are just as much for his own sake as they are for yours. You know how needy Atsumu gets when you two are apart.

 You remember the time he’d called you from his hotel room after an away game in Tokyo. How he whined into the phone at the sound of your voice when you whispered.

“Touch yourself for me.”

The way a soft cry escaped him at your command--your name leaving his lips with a breath.

 You want to feel him like that again. To see him beneath you, squirming and desperate--begging for you to just touch him, just sit on his face, his cock, anything you want just please--

 You abruptly stop your line of thinking--not daring to continue dwelling on this recurring fantasy. Atsumu doesn’t deserve the punishment you crave to dole out on him to relieve this frustration.

 … But he might want it.

 Championships are tomorrow. Just 24 hours stand between you and the feeling of Atsumu Miya’s taut muscles beneath your fingertips.

You take a breath, summoning the remnants of your willpower.

You could do this. You would make certain that the wait would be worth it.

For both of you.

 ---

 The Black Jackals win their first match because of course they do. Honestly, sometimes you feel a bit bad for the opposing teams. Their skill, their teamwork, their passion, their absolute willpower to win is stifling. Atsumu texts you that they’re going out for celebratory dinner and drinks. Bokuto’s idea. (Obviously). He promises he’ll be home as soon as he can. They’ve all got tomorrow morning off, and a whole day before the next round of matches. Some indulgence is well-deserved.

You type out your reply.

 > Take your time and enjoy yourself! You’ve earned it. 💕

 Knowing you’ve got at least two hours or more before the boys’ exhaustion ushers them all home, you decide to spend some time... preparing.

 You’re reclined on the couch, watching something you can comfortably give your half-assed attention to while scrolling on your phone. You hear the front door unlocking, the handle turning, and your heart leaps into your throat. The thought of finally, finally having Astumu all to yourself makes you absolutely giddy.

You turn expectantly, and can’t help the way your lips curl upward into a smile.

Atsumu pushes the door open and turns toward you, already smiling when he opens his mouth.

 “Hey.” You murmur.

 “Hey.” He breathes back, and you watch the way his features relax at the sight of you. The way the confident, assiduous Atsumu Miya--a man who wakes up every single day and strives for perfection in everything and every one---melts into something softer.

Something that’s silently begging for you to tear him apart and piece him back together again.

He slips off his shoes, drops his gym bag to the floor, and brings his long, heavy body to lay over yours on the couch.

His face--tinted pink (presumably from the drinks)--buries itself against your neck, lips pressed to your skin.

Your fingers assume their familiar position, nestled in the blonde locks atop his head.

 “Missed you…” You say lowly against his ear.

The small shiver that runs down his spine does not escape your notice.

 “I’ve been here every night!” He protests.

 “You know what I mean.” Your fingers press against his head, tugging on the strands the slightest bit.

 “Mmm…” He affirms softly--your skin keenly feeling the gentle hum against its surface. He knows what you mean. He’s been here, yes, but it’s felt more like the ghost of him--wisping into your bed for a few hours and gone again in the morning.

 “You were really in the zone today.” You comment. “I felt bad for the other team.”

 He huffs out a small laugh. “Don’t. They played fine. We were just better.”

 “Hmm…” You take your unoccupied hand and run a single finger up the curve of his spine.

 He exhales, and you listen for the tremble in his breath you know will be there.

Just a little more.

 “Either way, you were so good.” You can’t contain the coy lilt your voice takes on. You know damn well what you’re doing--using the very words that always make him quiver. He knows what you’re doing, too.

Atsumu thinks he doesn’t mind.

 It’s quiet for a beat. The two of you simply basking in the warmth of your bodies pressed against each other. You stretch beneath him, and… readjust yourself in a way that presses your breasts against him just a little bit more...

And Atsumu finally, finally breaks.

 He inhales sharply, and lets the subsequent exhale freely pass against your neck. A muffled word that sounds a lot like a plea leaves his throat.

 “What was that?” You ask, purposely grazing your lips against his reddening ear.

 “Please…” He begs.

 You consider being mean for a moment. Consider pushing him to his limit in desperation. The way those sharp brown eyes would turn glassy and tearful, his dark brows pulled together, pleading you to hurry up and take him--touch him--let him touch you--fucking anything. However you want, wherever you want. Make him vocalize that burning desire, and only concede when he well and truly begs.

 But that can always be arranged another time.

You’re far too heady with desire yourself to enact such cruelty on him right now. Not after he’s been so good.

 You shift your weight, moving to switch your positions by sitting up and pressing him beneath you. Your straddle his hips, purposely pressing your weight down against his pelvis ever-so-slightly.

 “You’ve been working so hard, ‘Tsumu…” You murmur, lowering the top half of your body to lean over his. Hands sliding under the hem of his shirt, running up along the taut muscles that tremble at your touch. “Such a good boy…”

Atsumu’s bites his lip in an effort to stifle the deep moan that leaves his chest. The way his body almost involuntarily reacts to that phrase every. single. time… It’s just too good to pass up.

You wet your lips.

 “Let me make you feel good.”

 And you press those lips ever-so-softly to the juncture between his jaw and neck. Soft touch turning to a light bite, and then back to a soothing kiss.

 Atsumu is crumbling--his hardening length pressing insistently against you.

 “I got everything ready. We can use whatever you want: rope,” and you press a slow open-mouth kiss to his neck,

“your collar,” then one to his collarbone,

“a toy,” traveling down to his pecs,

“the strap…” ending just beneath his belly button.

You look up at him from beneath your lashes, watching keenly for his expression to shift in interest at any certain one.

 Atsumu doesn’t give an immediate answer, his gaze unable to meet your own. Your hands trail back down his body, grazing a nipple with your fingernail just to see the way he twitches at the sensation. 

 “C’mon baby, how am I supposed to treat my good boy if he doesn’t tell me what he wants?” You purr, bringing your hands to the hem of the worn, oversized t-shirt covering your top half down to the juncture of your thighs. You’d snatched it from his dresser earlier to lounge in. Another carefully plotted detail. You knew just how riled up he got at the sight of you wearing his shirts. Even more so if he lifted it only to find those black and gold lacy panties underneath… Or if there was nothing…

Stretching your body, you pull the shirt up and off of your torso, tossing it aimlessly behind you. Atsumu’s gaze immediately returns to you--spotting that very set’s match: a black bra with intricate gold stitching around the lace adorning your skin. His hands are on you in an instant--palms sliding up your ribs to reach your breasts and gently squeezing around them.

Astumu had never been good with the concept of patience.

 Normally, you’d stop those big, calloused setter hands in their tracks--admonishing him for not asking permission, first. But this was about him. About fulfilling every whim his exhausted mind and body had the energy left to want. You could allow a little insubordination tonight.

 “You even wore my favorite.” He grins, that cheeky, self important tone of his sneaking back out. You smile coyly and tilt your hips downward, pressing your bare core against his still-restrained cock. He inhales sharply--dropping the attitude once more.

 “Part of the reward.” You grin. “Now, what does my good boy want?”

 His eyes drift upwards from their fixation on your breasts, meeting your gaze.

 “I want…” He bites his lip. “Wanna make you feel good.”

 Your eyes widen at the admission, but he’s speaking again before you can inquire.

 “You’re always so patient with me when practice gets like this. I just want to... To give you a reward, too.”

 You’re taken aback for a beat, pleasantly surprised at the acknowledgement. Atsumu still manages to surprise you with how observant he is. One of the more unexpected traits he shares with Osamu. Your eyes soften and you reach up to gently cup his face. He turns his head to kiss your hand and murmurs against your palm.

 "Let me taste you. Please."

 He knows how you get when he’s busy like this. How--despite your authority and confidence in the bedroom--you still long for his affection and crave his touch when he’s gone.

And this… This is the perfect way for him to express his gratitude while still pleasing both of you.

 “Okay.” You breathe, moving to kneel over his face. “Whatever you want,” you gently drop your weight toward his mouth. “my sweet boy.”

 He practically preens at the praise, moaning against your core. Again, Atsumu demonstrates his struggle with patience and savoring the moment. In an instant, he’s gripping your thighs and pulling them closer against the sides of his face. You know you could sit your entire weight atop him and he’d thank you, but tonight calls for something gentler. It’s enough to know you’re the only person who gets to see him like this. The only one who gets to watch the diligent, cocksure Astumu Miya, one of--if not the--best setters in Japan, become so vulnerable and desperate beneath you.

 He flattens his tongue and runs it slowly up from the start of your opening to the top of your clit.

 “Fuck, ‘Tsumu…” You moan, hands rushing to grasp at his hair. He groans, too, at the sensation of your fingers tugging--the hum sending a vibration through your body. You grind your hips, silently urging him on, and his tongue laves at your clit with small kitten licks. The feeling of those tiny, gentle laps against your most sensitive spot, so diligent and soft--it’s like electricity coursing through you, running up into every limb.

 “Mmhmm.” He hums against you. He knows just how you like it. When he services you like this--like the obedient puppy he is. “So wet… Y’taste s’good...” He says, hot breath fanning against you while he catches his breath for a moment.

 You press yourself back against him insistently. “Who said you could take a break? Use your fingers, too.”

 His mouth is back against you immediately, right hand sliding beneath your thigh to reach your opening. Carefully, he presses two fingers against it--testing the give, while his tongue continues to lick and suck at that sensitive nub. Spit has dribbled down from his mouth to where his fingers are pressed, and he slides his digits against the wetness, adding to the natural lubricant. Then, finally, he pushes those long middle and ring fingers up and into you. They slide in easily despite the way you feel yourself clench around the intrusion. He was right--you’re soaked. He finds a comfortable rhythm to compliment his tongue’s lashings easily and your head falls back, a deep moan escaping past your lips.

 “‘Tsumu… ‘Tsumu, fuck just like that--you do it so well for me, baby… Right there--”

 You’re cut off by the feeling of his fingers curling within you--searching, and then pressing against that spot so nicely.

Your thigh muscles twitch against his cheeks--breath fleeing from your lungs at the sudden rush.

 “Yes, ‘Tsumu--fuck yes.”

 You chance a look down at his face. Those long lashes closed, brows knit together in concentration while he pleasures you. Atsumu’s a pretty boy, but you think he’s prettiest like this.

 Fuck, you want more of that desperate expression. Want to edge him over and over until he’s drooling and can’t remember his own fucking name.

 You’re getting close. That climbing ecstasy rising dangerously high within you. You pull yourself off him before you can climb too high, and the release of suction from his mouth makes a small, wet pop.

 “You eat it so well, baby. So, so good for me, pretty boy.” You coo, caressing the sides of his face. His lips are pink and wet and you return your hips to their place atop his length. His lip wobbles with a whimper, back arching against you in search of more.

 “I think you’ve earned your reward now, don’t you?” Your eyelids fall, half-closed seductively while you lean your chest toward his face. You reach behind your back and release the clasp of your bra. His hands tighten themselves into fists, trying to restrain the urge to reach up and touch. The fingers of your left hand splay out against his chest, holding your weight, while the right moves down to pull off his boxer briefs. Then, your wet folds are sliding against his erect, bare, length. Slowly, up and down.

 “Mmm please can I--can I touch--”

 You interrupt him with a small lick against those still-wet lips and chuckle quietly to yourself.

 Oh, so now he’s ready to ask first?

 “You can.” You affirm, reaching down to line him up with your entrance. His breath is coming harder now, those hardened pecs rising and falling beneath you. The anticipation is rapidly unraveling him. Atsumu’s hands are on your back, tugging your chest back down towards him. As they slide forward around your ribcage to grasp your breasts, his gaze flits up to you.

 “Can I--?”

 “Mmhmm.” You nod--knowing what he wants. His mouth closes around your nipple, sucking with that perfect amount of harshness to tighten the coiling pressure in your lower body. His tip rests right against your opening. You can see the precum dribbling out of him--can feel the way he’s pushing himself slightly further up--desperate to get inside. Were this any other time,  you’d reprimand him for such impertinence. Tie his hands above his head and deny him completely. ‘And you were being so good, too, asking permission and everything. You wanna be inside that bad, maybe I should remind you how it feels to be on the receiving end, hmm?’

But, honestly, he’d nearly tipped you over the edge with just his mouth earlier. You were becoming impatient, yourself. 

 Finally, blessedly, you sink yourself down onto his cock, revelling in the way his mouth falls open and his head flings backward against the couch pillow with a cry.

 “Mmm.. ‘s it that good, baby?” You tease.

 “‘S been a while… So tight…” He hisses, almost like it’s too much.

 “Yeah?” You tease. Your hips are gradually picking up speed. Slowly rising up, up, up, as far as you can go before it feels like he might just fall out of you, and then your hip fall again, taking his full length deep inside.

 “‘Tsumu…” You say, rising back up again. “I wanted to pamper you tonight... “ and you slide back down. “Give my cute, sweet boy a reward for all his hard work.”

 Atsumu keens, whimpering beneath you.

 “But I think I wanna be a little selfish, too.” You breathe, leaning in close enough for your breath to fan against his face. “Is that ok baby?”

 A high pitched moan leaves Atsumu’s throat, and you clench around him.

 “Yes…” He sighs between ragged breaths. “Yes... Please, I--”

 “Please, what?” You interrupt him.

 “P-please…” You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. “Please, mommy…”

 “Ohhhhh, that’s my good boy.” You moan, restarting the rise and fall motion of your cunt around him. “Gonna make you feel so good. Just the way you deserve, ‘Tsumu. But you have to promise you won’t cum until I say so, mmk?” You’re holding his face, running your right index finger along the line of his jaw with a feather-light touch.

 And Astumu Miya shudders beneath you, staring up in reverence. The way those big brown watery eyes look at you… He’d look so cute with a collar clasped around his neck right now.

 He nods. “I--I won’t. I promise. Please.”

 Your hand moves up to stroke his hair softly. “Good boy.”

 You restraighten your back in your seated position atop him. Your hands come to rest against his chest for leverage, and you begin riding him in earnest. Atsumu’s eyelids fall closed again, head thrown back while his mouth hangs open in pleasure.

 “Is this what you wanted ‘Tsumu? Just want to feel me fuck myself on you until I’m satisfied?” You tease as you bounce. You slow to almost a halt and grind your hips in a circle, feeling the way his cock buries itself to the hilt. Atsumu’s hands are balled into tight fists against the couch. He’s moaning freely now--little cries escaping him as your cunt eagerly swallows him down over and over and over again.

“So good… You’re so good inside me, ‘Tsumu. Stretching me out so much every time. I know you know how good that feels.”

 “Ahnn--!” He keens at the memory. The way your soft hands had pressed his legs up against his chest. Wetness from the lube dripping down so tantalizingly slow between his ass cheeks. The cock of your strap buried within him. How utterly full he had felt, stretched around it while you softly cooed praises at him, stroking his cock.

 Fuck he wanted to cum like that again.

 More than that, he just wanted to cum. His hands clench and unclench--mouth hanging open while he revels in memory--in the feeling of your tight, wet, heat sliding up and down him just how he likes--how he needs.

 “I told you it was OK to touch, baby.” You reach down to grasp his hands with your own, bringing them to rest on your hips. “Hold onto me while I fuck myself on you.” You whisper.

 Atsumu’s eyes open at that, watching your body bounce on him. HIs left hand hastily comes up to grasp a breast, relishing the feel of the soft, pliable skin in his grasp.

 You gasp lightly at the sensation of his hand grazing your sensitive nipple. “Fuck yeah. So good for me baby--so good. Gonna make you cum in me like this--”

 Atsumu’s head falls back against the cushions again, his expression knotted in pleasure. “You feel so good. So good… Please… Please I’m-- Ahh!-- I’m getting close.”

 “Aww you’re close already? You wanna cum baby?” You shouldn’t tease. You know you’re close, too. That cresting peak getting closer and closer with every push of his cock into your deepest places. Your breath is ragged from the exertion of your body. You reach behind you blindly, refusing to miss an instant of Atsumu’s delicious expression. Eventually, you find the small bullet vibrator you’d stashed beneath the cushions earlier. You bring the toy to your clit and immediately feel it; that powerful wave looming just behind--threatening to take you over the edge. You steele yourself the best you can, inhaling deeply.

 Atsumu slides his eyes open at the sound and unleashes the mostly ungodly, moan. His voice trembles when he speaks.

 “Can I--can I come? Please--please baby let me come. Let me come.” His hands hold fast to your hips, grip growing steadily tighter as the sensations continue to climb. Faster now--exponentially faster. He’s not sure he could stop if he wanted to.

 “Mmmm hearing you beg like that… Good boy. You can cum, baby. I’ll even cum with you for being so good. Go ahead. Cum in this tight pussy.” Your words are rushed, breath catching here and there. “Give it to me.”

 And Atsumu shatters.

 The way his cry lilts up--high-pitched and unabashed. That wave crashing into him so hard and so completely it takes you down under with him. Atsumu’s mind is empty. Nothing but blinding white as he expends everything he has in him in an instant. His name spills past your lips over and over like a mantra while you ride out your high. The two of you so in-sync, it feels as though your cunt convulses in time with his every pulse. Everything feels so, astonishingly good and intimate.

 You’re both breathing heavily, eyes shut tight as that shared bliss slowly dissipates. You let yourself come down to rest on his chest. It’s suddenly very quiet save for your shared breaths. Eventually you rise onto your elbows, face directly over his.

 “I love you…” Atsumu murmurs, eyes slightly flitting about while he studies the intricacies of your face. He memorized them all long ago, but even in this he is never sated. Your eyes soften, chest fluttering at his tone: so tender and soft.

 “I love you, too.” You say, gently caressing his face. “So much.”

 Atsumu can’t help the smile spreading across his face. In one quick motion, his arms are around your neck and tugging your face down toward him. His head tilts, lips melding themselves against yours when they make contact. The kiss is unusually tender, his lips trying to convey what his words cannot: how he is so thankful and lucky to have you. You, who understands how dear his passion, his career, is to him yet helps him remain grounded so that it does not consume him entirely. You, who remains so, so patient when he is away. You, who is always there to help him take care of himself when he is too busy or exhausted. You, who holds him when he finally fractures under the stress of giving his everything all the time--and who helps him put his pieces back together again and get back at it.

 Your head returns to its resting place on his chest. His heartbeat steady beneath you, lulling you to sleep. You both need to get up, clean up, and get into your actual bed, but the bliss of finally feeling Atsumu’s hard body beneath you. Knowing it is completely yours, at least for a short while… You don’t want to relinquish it for even a second.

There’s another beat of silence before you speak.

 “Wanna go to ‘Samu’s and get tuna tomorrow?” You ask.

 Atsumu groans his approval loudly--so much so one would think he hadn’t just finished a massive meal with the Jackals. That signature cheeky grin returns to his face.

 “Oh my god I love you.”

[captains-simp]

Carol Danvers ~ Sister's Best Friend

Carol Danvers X Natasha's Sister Reader Smut

Word count: 3,589

Includes: fingering, oral and face sitting

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You groaned as you heard your sister's bed hitting the wall repeatedly and the occasional loud moan. She really had no shame, or consideration.

It was annoying enough for you that she was interrupting Teenage Bounty Hunters but did she really have to give you this reminder of how single you were? It had been way too long since you got laid.

It was rare to have the opportunity to spend time with your sister. Her work life as an Avenger dug into her personal life big time but despite being a huge work-o-holic, Natasha refused to ever let it ruin the irreplaceable relationship you too had.

So of course you had lept at the chance to go away with her for a week. You knew she was going to bring Wanda; you weren't mad at that though, in fact you were ecstatic because you loved to see your sister in the company of someone she was able to connect with in ways no one else could. They made each other happy, and it made you happy to see. (Although you weren't appreciating hearing the evidence of their sex life.)

But your sister had failed to inform you Carol would also be staying with you. You knew a lot people would give their left arm to be in Carol's company for a week. But you had had a crush on the blonde hero for so long you struggled to be around her without becoming a flustered mess.

Nat knew this. Everyone who knew you knew this. Except Carol. It was hard to cover up the intense blushing and stumbling of words that only occurred when Carol was flirting or just being near you.

Despite Nat's constant teasing about it and pushing you to do something about your crush on her friend, you knew nothing would ever come of it. Carol seemed like a worse work-o-holic than Nat. Definetly not someone who was looking for a relationship. At least, that was what you had assumed.

With a heavy sigh, you turned up the volume on the television but the thudding continued to echo around the house making you cover your ears with your hands and stare at the television.

"Fuck her and her great sex life." You mumbled begrudgingly but froze when you heard a familiar laugh that made your stomach flip.

"You never heard them before?" Carol asked as she leant against the door frame and looked at you with an amused grin.

You had to remind yourself to breathe for a moment as you realized your crush was standing a foot away from you in only an oversized shirt and shorts that you couldn't see. It was only an assumption she even had them on.

You blushed slightly and stared at the tv again - afraid she would notice that your gaze had lingered a little too long on her long, toned legs, afraid she somehow knew you had imagined those legs around your head for a split second.

"Er no." You laughed nervously. What the fuck was wrong with you?! Carol may be an enhanced human, but she was still human. You should be able to function around a human, even if she was illegally hot.

You were caught off guard when Carol slumped down on the sofa next to you; her shirt riding up enough for you to realise she was not, in fact, wearing shorts. You gulped and figited slightly on the sofa.

"I've lost count but my god it doesn't get any less annoying. They're always sneaking off at parties thinking no one can hear, they're lucky I always distract people to another area so they never get busted. Not even a thank you." Carol huffed before glancing at the TV that was showing some sort of action scene now, it was hardly something you were going to pay attention to now.

"She can be inconsiderate." You nodded. "One time I made extra cookies and without even asking she just took the extra ones." You recalled sadly, still mourning the loss of that perfect batch.

You instantly stopped when you realised the two things had zero correlation and you must have appeared just as annoying as your sister to Carol. But when you glanced over at her you saw she was smiling at you in that impossibly cute way made the smile lines around her eyes prominent.

"You must have been livid." She joked. You could only nod.

Your conversation had apparently come to an end and the only thing filling the silence was the TV and the occasional moan. At least the bed had stopped thudding.

You suddenly wondered if Carol felt uncomfortabke being there. Did she want to leave? Should you offer to drive her? You glanced over at her only to see she was already looking at you. Studying you. As though those piercing brown eyes could see every inch of your soul. You felt extremely nervous under her gaze and you hated the familiar feeling of your face heating up. Yet you couldn't help but sneak a glance back at the blonde woman.

She had a mischievous smirk across her lips that made her look more kissable than usual. You gulped as she shifted closer to you on the sofa while you kept your eyes glued to the tv, even when you felt her soft fingers dance lightly on your leg.

You wanted to melt from the simple touch because - unlike her - you were wearing shorts and having your legs crossed made them rise up way too much.

Her warm breath tickled your neck and sent goosebumps throughout your body and left your core throbbing for attention. You hated that it was so easy for her to have that effect on you.

Carol's fingers become a little less light and were now starting to caress your lower thigh. Your breathing increased rapidly along with your need for her but you didn't dare voice those thoughts. Even when her palm came into contact with your skin and pressed down firmly.

"Do I make you nervous, y/n?" She whispered into your ear softly and you couldn't respond. You couldn't get yourself to produce any words as you were so caught up in the movements from her hand.

Carol chuckled slightly and you felt your body become weak from the simple sound. She bit down on your earlobe softly and you had to bite on your lip to stop a moan escaping your mouth.

The gorgeous woman pulled away slightly to look you dead in the eye and your breath caught in your throat. Her eyes seemed darker than usual; as though she was planning a crime in her head and you found yourself thinking you would go along with whatever she asked of you.

Her brown eyes travelled down your face and once they arrived at your lip that was still captured between your teeth she groaned in frustration.

Before you could question what she was doing she pushed you down and pinned you against the arm rest of the sofa. You winced at the pain in your back but found the heat between your legs ignite like a fire and couldn't stop the slight moan.

You widened your eyes in shock at what you'd done but quickly shut them when you felt her soft lips collide with your own. She kissed you desperately, as though she was finally getting something she had wanted for a long time and you didn't hesitate to return the pace and even laced your fingers in her long, silky hair. You tried to push her towards you more but she pulled away to your disappointment.

"Fuck. Finally." She muttered as she positioned herself to straddle your waist then returned to you. Except her lips went past your own and instead attached them to your neck.

You moaned loudly as you felt her come into contact with your sweet spot so quickly. She took this with a new kind of vigour and bit down on the spot making you grip her hair harshly.

The blonde hero then sucked on your skin and you didn't question it for a moment, too caught up in the feeling of her lips against your own and wondering how amazing it would feel if she did that motion somewhere else.

When she pulled away she gazed down at your neck with a proud smirk and traced the mark gently with her finger then kissed you on the lips quickly.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." She said with a slight laugh.

"Kiss me?" You asked hopefully and she nodded as she leant back to sit on your waist.

"That and mark you as mine." You couldn't help but get extremely turned on at her words. "I've wanted you for the longest time now, y/n." She admitted with confidence as she played with the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slightly to exposed the lower half of your stomach.

She put both hands on your stomach and ran them across the exposed skin. It felt like you were on fire. The contact was one you had craved from her for a while.

"Me too." You said breathlessly, still not over how her lips had felt against my neck. Carol caught onto this and tore her gaze away from your stomach to look at you.

"Breathless already?" You blushed at her question and turned your head to the side.

She moved to lay against you and kissed your jaw as her hands wondered up your shirt, your mind too clouded to remember you weren't wearing a bra under your bed clothes.

However, this fact was brought to your attention when you felt her soft hands cup your breasts under your top. Your eyes shot open and she moaned slightly against you as she felt your hardened nipples that were begging to be touched by her.

She granted their wish and pinched them lightly between her thumb and finger making you moan out in response. She did all this while kissing down your neck again and leaving more hickeys on either side.

Your back arched slightly from the attention and you pulled her face towards yours to kiss her again. She happily obliged to this and bit down softly on your lip. You moaned slightly and parted your lips to let her tongue roam your mouth. Your tongues danced together before Carol's tongue brushed along your teeth and the roof of your mouth, only pulling away to breath before attaching your lips again.

Her hands wondered back down your stomach and rested at the hem of your shorts. You were caught off guard by her hand wondering further only to pull the elastic of your panties towards her and let them go so they snapped against your skin.

You whimpered a little at the motion making Carol smirk against you. She started to massage your upper thighs firmly, occassionly letting her fingers under your shorts only to retract soon after.

You were starting to get frustrated at the repetitive action, wanting her fingers to go further and stay there.

Carol tapped either side of your hips lightly and it took you a moment to understand what she meant. You lifted your hips slightly and moaned when you felt your cores rub together for a split second. Carol pulled your shorts down to your ankles and flung them across the room, not caring about them now they were separated from you.

She stopped kissing you to look at your now bare legs and rested her hand on your panties, letting her finger dip slightly to feel the outline of your pussy lips and the soaked fabric that covered them.

Carol groaned when she realised how wet you were and looked up at you with a dark glint in her eye that was unmistakably lust.

"Is this all for me?" She whispered as she rubbed you through your panties making you squirm slightly beneath her, hating that there was a barrier between you.

"Yes." You breathed out and tried to push your hips up into her but she placed a hand on either side and firmly pushed you back down.

Her dominance only turned you on more as you lay waiting for her to stop her sweet torture and finally give you what you wanted.

Her fingers travelled along the elastic of your panties and she dipped a finger in to stroke your lower lips. You tried to hold your moans back but this was apparently the opposite of what the blonde wanted.

She grabbed your chin in her free hand so you had to look at her, hovering over you like an angel.

"Don't stop yourself. I want to hear those pretty little moans of yours." You could only whimper out a response as you nodded your head eagerly.

Suddenly, you felt a single finger slip into your pussy and you couldn't help but moan out loudly.

It had been so long since you had been touched there, and the fact that it was by someone as beautiful as Carol made things even hotter.

"Good girl." Carol growled with satisfaction and kissed you hard as she slipped her finger fully into you.

You tangled your fingers into her hair again to hold her close to you as she pulled her finger out only to have it return quickly, not realising that everytime she did her palm would press against your clit making the pleasure increase.

She pulled your panties down with her free hand and you eagerly spread your legs in response to give her better access. As soon as you did she slipped a second finger inside with ease and pumped it into you in unison with the first.

"So fucking wet." She muttered between kisses and you moaned more as you felt a gush of wetness hit her fingers at those words.

She started to speed up as her thrusts became harsher, slamming into you at a pace that mirrored you heartbeat.

You started to rock with hips along with her thrusts, desperate to feel as much of her as you could and almost screamed when you felt her fingers curl up to hit your g-spot. It made my body resonate with fire and you threw your head back in pleasure, not believing you were being fingered by someone so beautiful and skilled.

When she pushed a third finger into you you moaned louder and gripped onto the back of her shirt to try to handle the intense amount of pleasure you were feeling. It was like you needed something to help you hold onto reality while the girl ontop of you was rocking your world.

From that reaction, Carol started to fuck you at a harder, rougher pace. Everytime her fingers hit the edge of your pussy you couldn't help but cry out her name along with a string of moans and profanities.

You didn't want it to end, but the pressure was starting to build up in my core, Carol could tell by your walls squeezing around her fingers.

Your body's desperate attempt to keep her inside of you was futile as she instead took this with a new kind of vigour and fucked you faster.

"Carol...please...don't stop!" You begged not caring how you sounded. You just needed her with you, ontop of you and inside you to help you through the high you were about to experience.

"Cum for me." She encouraged and bit down on the top of your neck. With a caress of her fingers you came undone beneath her, screaming her name as you came harder than you ever had before.

You continued to cling onto her back as she helped you through your orgasm by slowing her pace and watching you experience that extreme amount of pleasure that was caused by her.

You kept your eyes shut as you tried to regain your breathing. You were so focused on that and your now throbbing pussy that you were hardly aware of Carol's weight leaving you.

When your eyes finally fluttered open you saw that she had positioned herself between your legs - just inches away from your pussy - and was looking up at you with her signature mischievous grin as she licked each of her fingers clean.

You knew it was her pre-warning that she wasn't done. You were so exhausted that with any other person you would deny them any more, but the after effects of your orgasm were enough to remind you of how she could make you feel with her fingers. You were dying to know what she could do with her tongue.

Carol smirked when you nodded your head and kissed her inner thighs, working her way closer to your core. She flicked her tongue against your bundle of sensitive nerves causing you to lean back and grip onto her hair again as you watched her.

You could feel her smirk against you as she ran her tongue up through your folds then latched onto your clit, sucking hard as you moaned loudly and wrapped your legs around her head to push her into you as much as possible. You wanted to feel her tongue against every inch of your core.

At that thought, she sunk her tongue into you, making you gasp out at the motion before throwing your head back to moan in unison with her.

Feeling the vibrations from her mouth enhanced the pleasure that you could only express by pulling on her hair harder and squeezing your thighs around her.

Her tongue roamed your pussy like she was trying to memorize every inch of it and you loved it. The muscle moved around desperately, hitting all the right spots that made you shudder.

Every time her tongue pressed on one of those areas she withdrew to bite down on your lips making you groan from such an amazingly sharp pain. You couldn't help but wonder if she had a biting fetish or something - not that you were complaining.

Once her tongue dove into your core again you felt her thumb press firm circles around your clit that made your hips raise off of the sofa.

Carol withdrew her thumb to push your hips down again and held you there as her tongue continued to work wonders inside you.

You could feel yourself start to get close to your second orgasm with Carol as your walls started to clench around Carol's tongue, hoping it would stay inside you but instead pushing it out.

She brought her thumb up to your clit again and pressed down directly on it making you moan louder than before and arch you back in ecstasy as you came on Carol's tongue.

You gripped her hair and squeezed your thighs, desperate to keep the beautiful hero where she was to help you ride out your high.

Carol happily accepted this as you felt her tongue desperately move around inside of you in an attempt to get to every last bit of cum she made you release.

She then licked up your lips one last time before lifting herself up to grin triumphantly at you.

You smiled back and - despite your exhaustion - pulled her up with her legs either side of me and guided her towards your head.

She smirked as she realised what you wanted to do before giving you a questioning look.

"Aren't you tired?" You nodded. "That's why I'm staying laying down." You stated matter-of-factly as you pulled her panties, eager to see and taste her.

The moment you pulled her onto your mouth she gasped out. You didn't hesitate to suck on her clit softly, loving the initial taste of her wetness. You got the response you were hoping for and felt her hold onto your hair as she adjusted her position slightly.

You then licked up her folds and moaned at the sweet taste of her that instantly left you wanting more. You sucked on her folds to further please your taste buds and her as you gripped her butt.

You then bravely dipped your tongue inside her earning a loud moan from the woman ontop of you. She started to grind herself onto your tongue and you smiled proudly as you pushed your tongue the rest of the way in and relished in the taste of Carol.

After a few minutes of altering between sucking on her folds and sinking your tongue into her, Carol started to moan your name like a prayer. It was music to your ears that made your stomach flip and core start to heat up again.

Her movements against your mouth started to become more erratic and you knew with one swipe of your tongue you could make her come undone above you.

Excited at the possibility, you sucked on her clit harshly and heard her scream your name before feeling her warm liquid on your tongue that you eagerly lapped up.

Carol shuddered ontop of you before letting go of your hair and falling down beside you.

"Guess we're the inconsiderate ones for once." Carol laughed, you felt yourself blush as you realized just how loud you had both been. Although you didn't regret a second of it.

"Stay in my room tonight?" You asked with a burst of confidence.

Carol smiled at you and leaned over to kiss you on the lips passionately.

"I would love to." She smirked. You smiled at her answer as you wrapped your arms around her neck before falling into another deep kiss that wouldn't be the last.

[kimnjss]

keep going | jjk

⤑  series: cherry pickers

⤑ pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: smut!! (and the start of angst at the end...)

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 4.8K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: cursing, slight dirty talk, oral sex (m/f. receiving), handjob, cum shot, face sitting, spitting, grinding, (half-assed) 69-ing, nipple play, groping, dry humping, they’re both half drunk nd messy.

⤑ A/N: hiiii! how are you? sooo ., i decided to make the party two parts bc i had terrible time management today nd it’s getting late - buut i really wanted to post today. sooo part two up tomorrow!!

MAY 8TH, 2020 | 23:30

Jungkook hears your squeal over the booming bass of the music, long before you're appearing through the crowd of drunk partygoers. Jimin is steps behind you, large black glasses resting on the tip of his nose. Eyes likely bloodshot underneath them obvious from the stumble in his walk. Your hair fans out behind you as you run, jumping with a shout onto your boyfriend. Who is more than ready to catch you. Hands splayed over the small of your back, while your legs wrap around his waist.

Giggling, even though nothing's really funny. Cold hands finding his cheeks as your hair creates a curtain on one side of his face. “My baby!” Speaking a bit too loud for how close you are, but he doesn't mind it. Especially since you're quick with covering his mouth with yours. The strong taste of alcohol hitting his tongue as if how drunk you were wasn't already obvious.

The kiss doesn't last long because you're being distracted by your thoughts, lips parting from his, you begin to bounce in his arms. Thighs brushing against his waist and the skirt of your dress riding up the swell of your ass. “Jimin said you got dressed up for me,” You're wearing this pretty smile on your face, cheeks tinted pink and he's not too convinced it's just from the alcohol.

He nods without a bit of hesitation because he had nothing to hide. Wouldn't even be stood here in this outfit if he didn't think you'd find him attractive in it. Another squeal is leaving your lips, legs leaving his body as you jump down out of his grasp. Taking a step back to fully take in his appearance.

“You look good enough to eat,” Moving in close to him, your arms lift to wrap around his neck. Tugging gently so his face is level with yours, the tip of his nose nudging against your cheek as you lean up to reach his ear. “We'll get to that later, though.” A gentle kiss pressed to the outside of it and you're sure you hear a moan leave his lips.

Not dwelling too much on the sound, you pull back, taking his hand in his, leading him into the kitchen where you swear you saw Jimin disappear. Probably in search of smoother drinks to accompany the numerous shots swimming in his stomach. Jimin was quite the drinker and a bit hard to keep up with, either way, you managed without falling over. That was definitely a plus.

Jungkook had been here an hour or two before you showed up. Found Taehyung in the crowd and Yoongi after that, the three of them spending time drinking and talking while he waited for you. Your friends were cool and he was enjoying the music and everything, but at the end of it, he was most looking forward to seeing you... even if he had been with you just the day before.

Shots were passed around and Yoongi had his mind set on getting absolutely trashed, him and everyone within a ten-foot radius. Which had him refilling every single empty glass in sight. Including Jungkook, despite the fact, he was on the far end of the couch. So yeah, not as drunk as you, but definitely heading in that direction.

Who cares, though? It was a party after all.

MAY 9TH, 2020 | 00:19

Sat up on the kitchen counter with Jungkook beside you, quietly sipping from his cup while you talk a mile a minute with the guys in the room. Taehyung has taken an interest in Jimin who has made it his entire business to play hard to get. The whole nine yards, honestly, not looking directly at him while he spoke, acting aloof when it was clear to any of your close friends that Tae was enjoying the undivided attention.

Yoongi had gone somewhere a good half hour ago, nothing but a brief mumble of his departure which was drowned out by the music. Hoseok was leaving a few moments after him, loudly declaring he wanted to go dance. Yet, you have yet to see the inevitable circle form around him.

That left Joon and Jin with you and Jungkook, the four of you laughing and talking loudly about something that you'd no doubt forget in the morning. Well, three of you... Jungkook only half listened, the rest of his attention on you. Hadn't taken his eyes off you since he was setting you down on the counter and it was getting a little hard to ignore his stare.

Jungkook was always obvious, hardly ever beat around the bush... especially when it had anything to do with you. So just one look in his direction and you could tell that he was undressing you with his eyes, playing a dirty movie in his mind where the two of you were the stars.

Normally, you'd tease him. Get him all riled up until he was whining, basically begging for some type of release. It was always fun to see how far you could push him, how much you could get away with before he was becoming a mess of himself. 

Strangely tonight, though, you didn't feel like teasing. Wanted him just as much as he wanted you, if not more. And with this liquid courage cruising through your veins, you didn't care if he knew it. You didn't care who knew it. Jin has sparked Joon's argumentative spirit, claiming he was right about something that Joon literally based his entire life on.

It's not often you get to see Joon get riled up, especially in the face of a stranger. But the oddly sexy vein popping out at the side of his neck is very low on your list of concerns. No, your focus is on Jungkook and how you can get him from this room to upstairs a little more private.

“Koo,” His head snaps in your direction in an instant at the sound of your voice, cloudy eyes taking in your outstretched arms. Instantly putting together that you were beckoning him toward you, he doesn't waste a moment to stand in front of you. Palms settling down against the tops of your thighs, the coldness of them forcing goosebumps to rise on your warm skin.

Long legs stretching out to wrap around his hips, pulling him closer. You always wanted him closer. Fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down closer to you. He kisses you immediately, hands wrapping around your thighs, using his grip to pull your body toward him. He's hard. Can feel it pressed right against your thigh, a curious hand dropping down his torso until you're able to reach him.

Jungkook flinches at the touch, hips jerking forward and teeth scraping against your lower lip. The subtle pain pulls a moan from your lips that's quickly muffled by the determined twist of his tongue. Hesitant fingers inch underneath the hem of your dress and then back down your thighs, up a little higher, and then back down. His fingers repeat their movement three times before you're pulling away from his lips.

“What are you doing?” Your words come out through a laugh, hands on either side of his face as you look down to watch his fingers on your skin. “I'm just checking...” All slurred and barely coherent, he's not looking at you instead he's tracking the movements of his fingers as if he was in the midst of creating a masterpiece on your legs.

You can't help the laugh that slips past your lips at his focus, fingers racking through his short hair. Pushing the fluffy strands out of the way so you can get a better peak at the look of concentration on his face. “Checking what?”

Dark eyes lift to find yours, teeth catching his lower lip as he searches your features. Looking for any hint that you were uncomfortable. That you wanted him to slow down. Something that you constantly caught him doing if the two of you were moving past a peck. It was sweet, nice of him to always be thinking of you. But it did make you feel fragile like you needed him to look out for you. Never did you like this feeling, but coming from him... it didn't feel so bad.

“How high up you'll let me go this time. Do you want me to stop?” There's a second question hidden in there. He wasn't just talking about his hands on his legs, but rather how far you were willing to go tonight. It's obvious because Jungkook was horrible at hiding what he was thinking, every thought written on his face at all times.

Which is why you're so quick to shake your head, using the hold you have around his waist to pull him further between his legs. His hardening length brushing against the crease of your thighs and you're humming at the feeling of warmth that spreads throughout your body. “Not yet. Keep going,”

That's all he needs to hear and it's like a switch has been flipped inside of him. Whatever restraint he had been using since you first jumped on him going out the window as his hands move higher up your legs, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck. His teeth catch your skin, blunt nails dragging their way to your ass and all you're left to do is whine and moan underneath him.

A hand running down the front of his pastel-colored pants to cover his crotch. Fingers flexing around his bulge, shamelessly palming him through his pants in the middle of Yoongi's kitchen. He's letting out a breathy groan, head falling back as his hips move in motion with your hand.

He looks so hot, it's almost unbelievable. Eyes squeeze shut, with his lower lip tucked between his teeth. Thick neck on full display, you can't help but lean up and kiss it. Sucking open-mouthed kisses into his skin, while your hand moves over him. 

“Fuck,” he groans, loud enough for just you to hear. The sound sending a pang of arousal pooling between your legs. “I want to fuck you so bad,” It's a drunken confession that he's barely aware of, his focus on his hands squeezing your ass over the fabric of your dress.

Leaning back enough so your eyes catch his, he's looking at you with such desire and want. A look that you're no stranger to, but it definitely has you feeling a little less out of control tonight. Tilting your head up, you press a soft kiss to his lips, pulling back just before his tongue is able to slither past your lips. 

“Wanna go upstairs?”

MAY 9TH, 2020 | 00:57

Jungkook takes two steps toward you the moment Yoongi's bedroom door is secured shut. Hands on either side of your face, holding your head steady as he goes in for a kiss. A sloppy rushed kiss that pulls deep groans from his lips. Fingers curling in your hair while his hand drops low on your waist, pulling your body into his.

He's spent long enough holding on to restraint, not wanting to tip the scale in either direction in hopes to keep you from pulling back. Only going as far as you'd let him, but now you were giving him the green light for more. And although, he wasn't sure how much more you were willing to give... he was going to enjoy all he was able to take.

His mouth falls from yours, fingers moving toward the neckline of your dress. The same tiny dress you deemed too tight to wear anything underneath, besides the lace thong that does nothing but look pretty against your skin. With a fluid motion of his hands, your tits are spilling out the top of your dress, nipples peaking from the cool air circulating around the room.

His cock stiffens in his pants at the sight. Trying not to be obvious with the way the sight of your bare chest makes him drool. This was so far from being the first time he's seen boobs, but this was the first time he was seeing yours and that felt like the first time ever. He didn't know what to do with himself. Brain working overtime trying to figure out where to start. He wanted all of you, that much wasn't a secret. But he knew that he had to be careful, this was a privilege of course. A rarity. One wrong move and he fuck it all up for himself. 

The blank stare on his face does nothing for the pounding in your chest. Wishing that he'd just say something instead of staring the way he was. Not even looking directly at you. Did he think they were weird? Were you doing too much? Should you cover up?

Two strong hands wrap around your thighs, lifting your body off of the ground. Finally, finally looking up at you with those dark brown eyes of his. So easy to read, so filled with lust. For you. Long strides taken across the room and before you know it, your body is being surrounded by fluffy sheets and the smell of Yoongi.

“You're so perfect,” He sounds like he's in disbelief, shaking his head at his own words as he climbs onto the bed with you. Your head trapped on either side of his arms, hips pressed flush together. He fit so well between your legs.

Warm lips meet yours, tasting heavily of alcohol and his fruity lip balm. He's swallowing the moan that falls from your lips, tongue pushing against yours as his hips move in a slow rut. Kissing you breathless with his hand wrapped around one of your breasts, thumb flicking against your nipple. So easily pulling moans and whines from your lips with a simple flex of his muscles. “I can't believe I'm with you,” His words murmured against your lips, but your heart is standing at full attention, ready to swell in his favor.

Pulling back only to leave a trail of wet kisses down the length of his neck, mapping his way to your breasts. A breathy cry of his name falls from your lips when his teeth scrape against the hardened nub. Chuckling soft, his eyes lift to meet yours as he wraps his lips around it. Tongue moving just as it had been inside your mouth and you can't help but wonder how it'd feel in other places too.

Always ten steps ahead of you, Jungkook's hand outlines the curve of your breasts all the way down to the dip of your waist, passing your hips until the tips of his fingers catch the hem of your skirt.

He pulls off your chest with a pop, a thin line of spit connecting his lower lip to your skin. His tongue juts out to break it while his gaze lowers to watch himself reveal more and more of your skin with each movement of his hand. It's not long until your entire dress is bunched up at your waist, the maroon thong you had shimmied into on full display for his greedy eyes.

The growing wet patch between your legs is all he can seem to focus on. Jungkook startles you with his quickness, head dropping between your legs in an instant. Arms looping around your thighs to hold them apart, nose nudging against your covered clit as his tongue flattens against your slit.

“Holy fuck!” It's like someone has lit your entire body on fire. Back arched off the bed and toes pressed against the sheets. He's letting out a laugh, the prettiest sound you've ever heard paired with that toothy grin of his. Three gentle kisses are placed right on top where his tongue just had been.

Reaching down to find his soft head of hair, you gently drag his face up away from your sensitive pussy. His nose bumping against yours and his stiff cock resting just above your clit. Much harder than before and you can only guess why. Yet, despite his obvious arousal and his desperate want to continue, he's still able to compose himself enough to ask.

Pressing the softest of kisses to your lips, fingers pushing strands of your hair out of the way. “Keep going?” Silently hoping that you answer in his favor. Pretty much over the moon when you're nodding, hips lifting to meet his. It's his turn to curse, teeth cutting into his lip to keep from being too loud.

Kind of hard with the way you were grinding against him. Even through your useless panties, his boxers, and pants, he could feel you. How warm you were, wet too. So sure that his fingers would slip right in. How many would you actually be able to take? Just one? Two? Maybe three?

Had to be at least three if you expected to take his dick after. Never one to brag, but Jungkook was a decent size. Thick in the places that it mattered most, long enough to boost his confidence. Definitely took pride in the way your eyes would go wide when seeing it. Were you thinking about it too? Him fucking you.

“Yn, fuck.” He's hissing through clenched teeth, only now noticing the work you've done at the front of his pants. Buttons undone and fly wide open, your warm hand down the front of his briefs to fish out his throbbing length. It only grows harder in your soft grip, twitching at the brush of cool air.

It takes two of your small hands to cover him, the pink mushroom tip peaking out from your closed fists. Hands twisting in opposite directions and he doesn't even hesitate to fuck into the hole you've created. Eyes fluttering as breathy moans fall from his lips, heavy balls slapping against your covered pussy.

Jungkook's got a firm grip on your breast, the other hand clutching the bunched up fabric of your dress. Head bowed as he watches his cock disappear and reappear between your hands. He has no shame in the fact he's imagining it's you he's fucking. That he's being squeezed by the tightness of your walls. Imagining that you're reaching your limit too, instead of him selfishly getting his release. Every single time.

He loses it when you're sitting up, spitting into the palm of your hand to create a much wetter slip for his cock. Hands tightening around him and moving at a much faster pace. He's gasping and groaning, fucking forward as if he's buried inside of you. And you're close too, it makes him feel a lot better about the loud way he spills his load onto your stomach.

Warm and sticky against your clammy skin, you're lifting a hand off of him to dip your fingers into the mess. He watches the way you drag through it, bringing your index finger up to your mouth. “Oh, God.” He groans, earning a pretty giggle from you. His mouth is on yours again within an instant, fingers tangling in your hair as his tongue rolls around the inside of your mouth.

Tasting himself on your tongue and that just makes him want you more. “Please let me taste you.” His eyes still feel heavy and his body too, but that's the least bit of his concern. He wants to make you feel good. It's only fair, with the way you're constantly catering to him. You deserved it. “Please,”

Not even worried about sounding desperate or even whiny, he just wants you. He wants you to want him. And you do. Have wanted him since the first time you met him if you're honest. Tonight all of that was only amplified, a mixture of the alcohol and the realization of how quickly you had fallen for him.

Didn't even realize it was happening until it was done. Jungkook was quickly becoming it for you. Not a day went by where he wasn't on your mind, yearning to see him, to talk to him, to kiss him. Needy in ways that were nearly foreign to you. Always so good at keeping it together, but when it came to him you just couldn't.

And you didn't really want to either.

“Okay,” His face breaks into this huge smile and you can't help the laugh that falls from your lips. “Okay?” He has to check, make sure that he's hearing you right. And when the sound of your laugh fills his ears, followed by another confirmation he's almost ready to jump for joy.

Springing up, he's shrugging his shirt off. Wiping the drying cum from your stomach as a true gentleman would. Tossing the dirty fabric to the side, he's shifting to lay on his back before you're stopping him. “Take this one off too,” Reaching for the sleeve of his undershirt and he doesn't waste a moment before tugging it over his head and tossing it to the side.

He's moving to lay on his back before you're allowed the proper time to admire his well worked on chest. The ripples in his stomach that can only be accomplished with hours upon hours in the gym. His head lifts to find you sat up in the same spot, this quizzical look on his face which you return with a laugh.

“Come sit on my face,” He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, reaching out for your wrist, to gently drag you toward him. Your eyes are saucers, cheeks flushed at the thought of being sat up on him like that. “Why?” It's obvious to the both of you why, but you wait for his answer anyway.

His shoulders lift in a slight shrug, lips stretching into a slow sexy smile. “I've always wanted you to sit on my face,” He's so calm about it too as if he didn't just admit to the dirty secret thoughts that bounce around his head when the two of you are alone. You're so inclined to give this man whatever he wants that you don't bother to fight it anymore, simply lifting yourself up to stand over his head.

Taking in the way he's smiling up at you like a kid on Christmas, arms looped around your legs to help you lower yourself onto him. The tips of his fingers latch onto the waistband of your panties, tugging them far enough down your legs so he's getting a good look at your bare pussy.

Lips glistening with your arousal, slightly puffy from the bit of stimulation. There's a small patch a hair above it, trimmed into a neat triangle. Almost like an arrow saying: Jungkook's mouth goes here. And he's forever one to follow a sign. With his arms looped around your thighs, he's lowering you comfortably over him. He lands an open-mouthed kiss on your clit, using the grip he holds on your thighs to hold your body still.

Gasping, your hips jerk, body lunging forward to brace yourself on his stomach. “Fucking cute,” He murmurs into your pussy, head tilting to the side so his tongue can reach deeper inside of you. Paying close attention to the sounds of your whines to make sure that you're enjoying yourself just as much as he was.

Much sweeter than he had thought, arousal dripping down the sides of his lips. You've got a tight grip in his hair, hips moving in stuttered thrusts against his mouth. A hand pressed onto his stomach, nails scraping against the skin. He's cautious with introducing his fingers to the mix, teasing your hole slowly before he's pushing one in. Cock stiffening at the loud wail that leaves your lips, legs spreading wider for him.

It's never felt this good. Not when you're alone with your own hand down there. His is much longer, thicker. Reaching deeper inside than you ever could. With lips latched around your clit and a single finger fucking inside of you, Jungkook's pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven. The sounds of your moans being the welcome bell.

His tongue moving around your clit in quick circles and he swears he feels your walls clench around his fingers. So wound up, it's not long before you're nearing your end. And he takes the chance by pushing another finger alongside the first one, much tighter and harder to move but the sound that leaves your lips eggs him on.

“Shit, baby...” He pants against you, the warmth of your hand around his shaft making him lose focus. You stroke him lazily, barely able to keep your head up with the way he's making you feel. But you manage, tongue poking out to roll against the tip. His whines vibrate against your pussy and throughout your entire body, forcing an involuntary roll of your hips.

Fingers plunging deeper inside of you as his hips lift, cock brushing against your lips at the same time he's curling his fingers. Pressing against the rough patch that has you spiraling out of control, hips bucking against his face and grip tightening in his hair. “Jungkook, fuck! I'm...” Pretty much delirious at this point because he has no interest in letting up, determined to knock you over the edge if it's the last thing he does.

A string of curses leaves your lips. Sloppy kisses landing on his length, a failed attempt to muffle them. All at once you're feeling pressure build and snap in the pit of your stomach, a wave of heat washing over you. Your legs shake on either side of his head, loud cries of his name and incoherent sentences falling from your lips.

Jungkook holds you steady through all of it, the movement of his tongue slowly as you come down. Lips puckering to plant a gentle kiss to your lips, just as your body is falling limp against his. Slowly pulling his fingers from inside of you, he doesn't waste a moment with sucking your juices from them, humming contently at the taste.

“So sweet,”

Shifting in his hold, you move to sit on his lap. His nose, mouth, and chin are shiny with your arousal, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded, hair a knotted mess. He looks absolutely fucked out and it's so hot. Lowering yourself, your mouth is finding his, tongue plunging into his mouth as you lower your body. The tip of his cock nudging against your clit, forcing a moan from your lips.

All it would take is a certain angle of your hips and he'd be sinking inside of you. Stealing away your virginity with a single thrust of his hips. You wanted that so bad. With him. Only him. “Jungkook.” Sighing his name out, his cock twitches between your legs. And from the way his eyes go wide, you can tell he's just noticed how close you actually were. 

“I want you to fuck me. Please, Kookie,” There's slight whine in your voice, but you don't care how desperate you sound. You've never wanted something this bad. Felt it in your chest, your stomach, your core. You wanted him.

He doesn't say anything for a while, eyes scanning over your features for a little longer than you'd like. Before he's letting out a soft sigh, his hand reaching up to push his hair back on his head. Sitting up with you in his lap, his hand lifting to wipe at the wetness around his lips. “Fuck, princess. Not tonight. Not yet,” Two large hands set on your shoulders, he's offering up an apologetic smile.

A pout is already forming on your lips. You can't help it, your brows just seem to automatically furrow and your lip pushes out. “Why not?” His hand is lifting to pat your hair, head tilting up to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Because, when I fuck you... I'm gonna fuck you.” You'd think he was explaining the cuteness of puppies with the way he was looking at you. The tone he was using. “And you've been drinking. I need to make sure you remember every second,” His fingers rub against your scalp lightly before he's going in for another kiss.

Not even a moment is granted for the sting of rejection to settle in. The moment he's pulling away and gently nudging you off of his lap to redress, there's a loud knock on the door and you're becoming all too aware of the party that was still going on downstairs. A loud crash follows the knock and you can hear shouts from two very familiar voices.

And then another, much harder knock. Joon's voice sounding from the other side. Hurriedly explaining all the commotion going on downstairs. 

“Hoseok and Yoongi are fighting!”

— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you… forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

 taglist: @randomkoalablog @smoljams @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hehehehahahohohuhu @houseofarmanto @preciouschimine @chocobetterknot @kookiesjoonies @ashleyjoyx @thia-aep @jinhitwhore @silentlyimpractical @acc3ssdenied @triviasjms @joonies-babyy @bangtansonyeondayyyum @bangtan-noona @mipetronella @lilacdreams-00 @strawberryforever25 @tae165 @jikooksgirl19 @dee-ehn @butterflylion @alterlovess @joontopia @my-odd-mix @yeontanie21 @sw33tnight @kookiesdoe @daydreambrliever @elliemeetsevil​ @hellotherehoneybee @bangtansbun @taefect94 @tricethecharm​ @pjmcth​ @0xmysticx0​ @samros95​ @codeinebelle​ @vmin-soulmate​ @bluewhale52​ @thecityrain​ @rageyoudamnednerd​ @kookoo-kachoo​ @diminieshoe​ @kelitt​ @soulstaes​ @ayyyocee​ @betysotelo18​

taglist: @elephantdoors @ratking101 @amour-quinn @gemad08 @yoooonie @ughtear @ambersaesthetics @peachy-tata @moonlitmyg @trinityxsope @diorhobii @miagracegrande @tom-hollands-wife @loveyoongles @seokjinslittledumpling @kerikaaria @ggukkieland @gwsyoongi @salty-for-suga @beeeb05 @dionysusrage @jungkookspromise @princecalpal @agustneeds @neverthefirstchoice  @agustdakasuga @veronawrites @omot7 @agirlintheparkjimin @wildly-lost-lantern @goldenkookietae @ephyraaaa @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @sungieshines @embrace-themagic @kim-ji-hyeons-world  @mrksmrks @hyunjinhasmyheart @paddingtonrue @itsrapmonstanotdancemonsta @veryuniquenamegoeshere @niieceyy @lowlifeoeuvre @lee-karliah​ @angiexyoung @marifujioka @softlyjins @mochibabycakes @producerjk​ @hqtetsurou​

taglist: @heyitsbreeeeee​ @munkey888​ @bbyjoonies​ @prdshobi​ @myworldisgone11​ @kthvol6​ @soloikeadates​ @illwritetomorrow​ @jiminbabyluv​ @parkjammys​ @mypurplelamp​ @hansolsrightnut​ @vanillabrightlightning​ @huhuehuey​ @jiminshibaby​ @rjsmochii​ @certifiedcrazycatlady​ @jayyayyy17​ @my-current-mood-is​ @bangpink123​ @btsbed​ @definitely-not-tina​ @jeonsbae01​ @metaethically​ @kb-bangtanenthusiast​ @ardenlovesyou​ @simplymemyself​ @jin-from-the-block​ @janieooo​ @xxstrangegirlxxx​ @pastelbleuet​ @pxjiminsi​ @ruinsofangels​ @ladyarmanto​ @bloopkook​ @hopiebabie​ @bigimpression​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @hisunshiine​ @uxwi​ @yayo-kittty​ @taejinminsu​ @miss-jupiter​ @btsbangtanbois​ @sugalou​ @pjminmin​ @yoongiofmine​ @94ser0da​ @kim-jias-den​

taglist: @imezz​ @itookallthejamsbruh​ @kimsouthjoon​ @ephyra1230​ @awhnamjoon​ @jkismyasmr​ @eyereen​ @gldnrecs​ @jiminddaeng​ @morndas​ @daebakrex​ @getmemyfries​ @v3nti​ @drippingguk​ @iridescentstories​ @cheesecakes-randomshitz​ @jakiki94​ @tatiquichi​ @tatajoonie​ @weasleyswizarding-wheezes​ @shadowhale​ @kuggnuj​ @cynicalitys​ @saymynamewithluv​ @kooafraid​ @milkteade​ @revehosh​

taglist: @squirrelandcrafts​ @sweetnight​ @trynavibewhileicry​ @eatjeanjin​ @nightapple4jk​ @localjisung​ @aureumjeon​ @kooknova​ @ardoren​ @diamonddia-mond​ @dammit-jjk​ @jwlmnbt​ @jiminsreads​ @poisoneveyyy​ @girlontheblock​ @bunny-on-crack​ @sweetestdreamssuga​ @tommasauras​ @cecedrake2217​ @bangtan-ology​ @hobiismyhopeu​ @subtlepjiminie​ @bangtangrl​ @kooks3uphoria​ @vampgguk​ @alpaca1612​ @gukkiecuddles​ @hazefilter​ @nochujjk97​ @smol1​ @mama-m0chi​ @blue1928​ @babelleerr​ @rlynotme​ @jaywalksalloverme​ @bansheehunteremissary​ @justmythings16​ @giadalin​ @ladyartemesia​ @xxunmeixsenpaixx​ @ot7always-main​ @msunnsstuff​ @tew-atx​ @lierr007​ @bishuthot​ @jaebeomsblackgf​ @taexmichi​ @patpus​

taglist: @anothershorthuman​ @izzyexe​ @letmebreathepls​ @okaysoplshelpme​ @chogiyeol-utopia​ @iforgotthemelody​ @kookiepout​ @sunshine-ybba​ @lovelyseomin​ @super-btstrash-posts​ @calikoocat​  @richkookie​ @yoong-i​ @koochiekoo​ @thephotoend​ @heavenspidey​ @perseephony​ @secretlycrazyhummingbird​ @mina-bear​ @holdinbacksecrets​ @drumsofheaven​ @na-na-na-nanna​ @sunset-and-daydreams​ @luvtaeha​ @yoongipsychic​ @bipolarbeyotch​ @fanfics-for-fun​ @anoncutiw​ @stillphoria​ @lomeinchicks​ @anjcia​ @keenmedstudent​ @xtrataerrestrial​

A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Two Peculiar Admirers | Shuntaro Chishiya, Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Characters: Chishiya, Niragi (ft. Kuina)

Summary: Niragi finally finds some time alone with you, but of course, Chishiya is right on his tail.

Warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, conflict, angst, mention of sexual assault

Word Count: 3.3k

Author’s Note: The ending is a little unrealistic because I wasn’t sure how else to conclude it. This is for you anon!

You and Chishiya slowly made your way down to the pool to spend the next few hours at with Kuina. On the way, Chishiya had to keep sniffing and wiping his nose to stop the blood dripping. It made you frown. There was no way just smacking his nose would make it bleed that much.

Chishiya soon asked you a question that was itching in the back of his mind. “So, you know Niragi huh?” he questioned, looking at you.

You looked back at him confused. “Huh?”

“I said so you know Niragi?”

“Oh,” you understood, turning your head ahead of you again. “Yeah, I know him. We aren’t close, but he seems to think we are.” You laughed at the statement, seeming to find it as a joke almost. But Chishiya was not laughing.

“Yeah, I know,” he said bluntly. “Look I know you may think he just has some harmless crush on you, but he honestly is a really evil person Y/N.”

Chishiya wasn’t sure what he was going to get out of telling you that. Was he generally worried for your safety around Niragi? Or did he just want you all to himself? He didn’t know his aim himself.

You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn’t like the way he was talking to you, like you were stupid or something.

“Chishiya, I know. I’m not an idiot,” you said, matter-of-factly.

Chishiya had a small moment of panic. He was afraid he had offended you. “Yeah, I know! That is not what I meant at all,” he recollected himself, waving his hands in front of him in worry.

You both then walked in silence the rest of the way down to the pool. It was rather awkward after that, making the air a bit tense. Chishiya wanted desperately to restart a conversation but he couldn’t think of anything to say.

When you arrived at the back entrance of the hotel that led out to the pool, as soon as the large glass doors opened your ears rang from the loud music. It was the same as every night, people drunkenly dancing and trying to make the best of their own lives while they lasted.

Chishiya quickly scanned the area. There was no way he’d be able to keep an eye out for Niragi in this kind of crowd. He thought it was best he just stayed close to you in case the insistent man decided to approach you.

He turned towards you to see you distracted by a few rowdy people by the pool. He reached out and carefully linked his arm with yours and pulled you towards him.

You turned around, surprised by the sudden bold move and looked up at Chishiya, but he didn’t meet eyes with you. You shrugged and just thought it was his attempt of flirting.

Chishiya dragged you around the area looking for Kuina. He kept you joined as his hip, sometimes accidentally pulling you a little too harshly by the arm and making you wince in pain. He was lowkey freaking you out. He’s never acted like this before.

When he found Kuina over on a small, secluded table near the wall, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to face Niragi alone now if he found him.

“Kuina!” you yelled out as you saw her too. She shifted her eyes and saw you and Chishiya, a smile painting itself across her attractive face. You pulled your arm out of Chishiya’s grip and ran over to her.

Chishiya watched and grinned happily at you two as you jumped into her arms for a big hug. He was glad to have you with him. At least when you were by his side, he can protect you from that homicidal prick.

You all sat down, sipping drinks that Kuina went and got from the bar for all of you. All three of you enjoyed yourselves and laughed at each other’s jokes and stories from life before the Borderlands. It felt nice to connect with your friends more emotionally.

You stood up after a while and turned to the two of them. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom,” you said. After drinking multiple margaritas, you were a bit dizzy and desperate for the toilet.

Chishiya stood up quickly. “I’m coming with you,” he said, already climbing out of his seat.

You shook your hands towards him. “No, no, no! Chishiya it’s fine! I can go by myself. Thanks anyway though.” You sent a cheeky wink his way and started walking away from the table.

Chishiya watched as you started getting further and further away from him. He began slightly panicking. He knew that if Niragi saw a chance to get you alone, he wouldn’t hesitate to take it.

Before he could even stand up again, Kuina grabbed his arm, making him turn his attention towards her. “Oi, what’s your deal tonight? You’ve been bouncing your leg under the table and fiddling with every little thing. The hell has got you so worried?” Kuina asked with a curious look on her face.

Chishiya glanced quickly back towards you to check you weren’t that far before turning back to Kuina. “I think Niragi’s been stalking Y/N. I’ve been keeping an eye out because I’m worried that he’ll snatch her the moment she’s alone,” he whispered to her.

Kuina’s eyes widened in shock. “Niragi’s after her?! For what?!” she whisper-yelled.

Chishiya shook his head in uncertainty. “I’m not too sure, but he seems to show a lot of interest in her,” he said, turning to see you making your way through the entrance to the hotel.

“I have to go.” He shot up out of his seat and tried to evade his way through the crowd that suddenly appeared near the entrance. His anxiety spiked as you left his sight, and he began panicking on the inside. He had to get to you before Niragi did.

But through his panic, he failed to notice the tall man follow you inside, closely behind with his usual rifle slung over his shoulder. He finally caught you alone, and he wasn’t going to waste the time he had.

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

You happily strolled down the few hallways to reach the lobby. There was a women’s bathroom nearby there that you could go to, so you slowly were making your way there.

You didn’t expect your path to be so abruptly interrupted by a sudden hand over your mouth. Your eyes widened and you instantly gripped the hand’s wrist, attempting to pull it off. You thrashed around violently and your heart pumped adrenaline through your body widely as the stranger locked their other arm around your waist, beginning to pull you backwards into a nearby room.

You kicked and bashed your body against them to try and break free, but nothing was working. This person was much taller and much stronger than you.

As you saw the door frames appear on either side of you, you reached out and gripped it as tight as you could, attempting to pull yourself out of their grasp urgently. You were panicking, screaming against the hand that was over your mouth to alert someone nearby, but no one would’ve been able to hear you.

Your stomach dropped as your attacker pulled harshly suddenly, almost breaking your fingers gripping desperately on the door frame from the force. They slipped from the wood and you fell backwards into the stranger’s chest. They quickly regained their balance from your fall and kicked the door shut with their foot.

You still had fight in you, giving them a painful jab to the ribcage with your elbow. They groaned in pain and their grip loosened on you, allowing you to take your chance and crawl away towards the closed door.

But they saw your plan and grabbed you by the ankle, pulling you back violently towards them causing you to almost faceplant onto the floorboards below you. They got to their feet quickly and jumped over you to the door, locking it in a rush then turning back to you.

As you regained your strength and kneeled back onto your heels to get away from, you noticed their familiar face. Of course, it was him.

“Niragi?! What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, stumbling to your feet and holding onto the wall for support.

“I thought you were someone else! What the hell was that for?!” you yelled at him.

Niragi dropped his rifle to the ground. How he managed to still have it on him after that you had no idea. But the look he was giving you now made you not care so much.

“I did that because I wanted to do this.”

Before you could even retort against his statement, Niragi rushed to you and pressed you harshly against the wall with his hands on your waist while pressing his lips against yours.

Your heart stopped. You didn’t know what to do. You stayed completely frozen in his arms as he began moving his mouth against yours, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip. That’s when you came to terms with what was happening.

You pressed your hands against his chest and shoved. Niragi stumbled back with a smirk painted on his pierced face.

You couldn’t say anything. You were so in shock.

“Aw, have I left my little mouse speechless? It would be a first for you wouldn’t it sweetie?” he cooed, cradling your cheeks in his hands and lifting your head so you were looking directly into his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, I just want to eat you up.” He pressed his lips against yours again, placing a gentle hand on your neck to turn your head sideways to make the kiss deeper.

You slowly closed your eyes and melted into his kiss, making him smirk against your lips. It felt strange. This man has done nothing but annoy you and stalk you the whole time you’ve been at The Beach, yet that moment felt so right.

You wrapped your arms around his upper back and balled his buttoned shirt into your fists as you leant closer to him, making him snake his arms around your waist to pull your closer, if that was even possible.

You pulled back from him after a couple of minutes, leaving a trail of saliva between your lips. You laughed and wiped your mouth before looking into his darkened eyes.

Niragi growled as he felt your hands slowly make their way under his shirt. “Are you sure you want to do this now?” he asked, raising a suggestive eyebrow to you.

“Isn’t that why you tackled me into this room with you?” you fired back, running your hands along his broad back.

Niragi chuckled and smirked. “I guess so.” He yet again crashed his lips onto yours, continuing where you left off.

Just as you felt him moving his hands lower on your body, the door handle suddenly jiggled violently from the other side, making you and Niragi jump in surprise. Someone was trying to get into the room.

“Y/N?! Are you in there?!” you heard them yell. It was Chishiya, you could recognize that voice anywhere.

You turned your head towards the door, thinking whether you should answer him or not. Niragi groaned in front of you, annoyed about being interrupted. “Just leave him, he’ll leave soon,” he said, leaning his head down and running his tongue along your neck to get your attention on him again.

You thought for a second before turning back to him again. “Okay.”

Before you knew it, the door suddenly erupted with a huge bang, making it shake violently. “What the fuck?!” Niragi yelled in surprise. He wasn’t expecting Chishiya to get so insistent so quickly.

“Y/N?! Y/N are you in there?! Answer me!” He sounded a bit desperate. He probably heard Niragi swear, making his suspicions rise.

You pushed on Niragi’s chest to get him to give you space to move. But he refused staying tightly pressed against you, almost covering your entire body with his.

You frowned up at him. “Niragi, please move!” you begged him, pushing against him with more force.

“Why? Why does it matter if Chishiya sees us?” he questioned you.

He had a point. Why did you care so much if Chishiya saw you? It should not matter to you, but why did it?

You took too long to think about what to do before the hinges of the door came loose from Chishiya’s barging. It gave way and he stumbled in, locking eyes with the scene before him.

There you stood, pressed up against the wall by Niragi with dark bites littering your neck. He felt sick from the sight.

Before you could even defend yourself or say anything, Chishiya barged his whole body towards Niragi, causing him to lose his footing from the impact and fall onto the ground, his temple narrowly missing the corner of the bed.

“How fucking dare you! You really think you can act all sleazy and creepy towards Y/N without me noticing?! As soon as she left the table, I knew something was bound to happen! And look where I found her! Forced up against a wall by you with fear all over her face! You really think I’m that fucking stupid Niragi?!” Chishiya spat out harsh words to Niragi over and over while you stood there awkwardly, trying to think of something to say.

After Chishiya had finished he turned around and had a worried expression. “Oh my god, Y/N are you okay? Where did he hurt you?” he asked in a panicky tone. He checked all over your body for any more bruise marks or any other injuries, worried that Niragi had harmed you.

“Um…” you said, not knowing what to say.

Chishiya stopped in his actions when he heard a sickening laugh behind him. He turned around to see Niragi throwing his head back and letting out the loudest and most psychotic laugh he had ever heard. Anger boiled in his blood.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” he said harshly.

Niragi regained his breath and pressed his hand against his chest, trying to calm his heartbeat. “Oh Chishiya, you’re so idiotic. Trust me, she wanted it,” he chuckled, climbing back to his feet.

Chishiya frowned at him. “What do you mean? Of course she didn’t.”

“Oh, then how do you explain her kissing me back? Or running her hands up and down my back? Or her moaning underneath my tongue on her neck?” Niragi licked his teeth like a dog to annoy Chishiya.

You knew that last part wasn’t true. Niragi was most likely telling fibs to push Chishiya’s buttons.

Chishiya turned back to you with a hurt expression. You couldn’t look him in the eyes. You were now feeling ashamed for even being attracted to the deluded man in the first place.

Your actions spoke louder than words as he understood what you meant. He looked down and shook his head before lifting his feet and walking towards the broken door briskly.

“Wait, no. Chishiya,” you said, grabbing his arm to stop him from leaving. He stopped and looked you in the eye with his empty orbs.

“I-I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, lowering your head in shame and loosening your hold on his arm.

“No, it’s fine Y/N. You don’t have to say anything,” he said in his usual careless tone. “I get it. I just think you could’ve told me that you weren’t interested in a nicer way than this.”

He ripped his arm out of your grasp and made his way out of the room. You felt your heart rate pick up as you watched him disappear around the corner. You couldn’t let him leave like that.

As you were just about to chase him out, you looked back to Niragi, who had watched the whole ordeal that just happened between you and Chishiya.

“So, you want to meet me at my room at one?” he asked in a suggestive tone.

You cringed at his words. “Go to hell,” you spat before following Chishiya to try and reason with him.

Niragi smirked at your words. “Ah, there she is. There’s the flame I fell in love with,” he mumbled to himself. He leant down and grabbed his rifle off the ground and slung it over his shoulders. “Maybe next time, when we don’t have any interruptions.”

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

“Chishiya!”

You jogged to keep up with his fast pace down the hall, making his way back to the pool to see Kuina again. He ignored your yelling, wanting to be far away from you at that moment.

“Chishiya can you please just listen to me!” you said desperately, grabbing his shoulder to turn him to you.

Chishiya suddenly whipped his head around to meet your saddened eyes. “For what Y/N?! Why are you following me?! Why don’t you go back to Niragi?! You seemed awfully comfortable with him when I found you!” he exclaimed. His yelling echoed down the hall, making it seem louder than it was.

You felt tears begin to make their way down your cheeks. You felt helpless in that moment.

You knew that Chishiya liked you more than a friend, but he had always remained such a gentleman to you. He never made you uncomfortable or overstepped your boundaries, so why did you kiss the man that had been stalking you? Who had been saying creepy comments towards you every day? For crying out loud he forced you into an empty room with him. Why did you kiss him when you already had such a lovely and attractive man right in front of you?

You couldn’t help yourself. You grabbed Chishiya by the collar of his hoodie with both hands and pulled him towards you, crashing your lips against his. He didn’t react at first, probably due to shock. But soon, he relaxed and placed his hand on the back of your head and another on your waist.

This felt right. Kissing Chishiya felt more loving and more compassionate than kissing Niragi. Why didn’t you kiss him first? It was honestly a stupid mistake.

You two stayed in the hallway for some time, moving your lips against one another’s passionately. Chishiya was the first to pull away.

He was angry at himself. He shouldn’t have enjoyed that after seeing you with Niragi. But at this point, he was so desperate for the smallest bit of love that he didn’t care.

“Why?” he asked, brushing a piece of hair out of your face gently. You looked into his eyes deeply and smiled sadly at the small specks of tears growing in his eye sockets.

“Because Chishiya, I didn’t realize what I had until I almost lost it,” you said, wiping your thumb underneath this eye to collect his tears before they escaped.

Chishiya kept a neutral face, not knowing how to respond. He was so happy that you liked him back, even if he had to go through a free trial of hell to find out.

He could feel more tears building up in his eyes, so he brought his lips back to yours to distract him from crying. He closed his eyes and let the waterfalls cascade down his face, some mixing with yours that remained on your cheeks.

You both stood in the hallway alone, no one around to interrupt or come between you. Chishiya cherished the moment while it lasted. If having you like this in his arms every day, pressed as close to you as possible both physically and emotionally, then he thought life would be worth living a little longer.

He could deal with a punch to the face from Niragi every now and then if he’s got you to look after him.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Personal Training (Choi Jongho + Song Mingi) Rated

Pairing: Dilf! Choi Jongho × Younger! Reader (Female) × Dilf! Song Mingi

Genre: Smut, Slight Angst, Fluff.

Summary: Wanting to get closer to her P.T for so long, who would have thought it would take his friend to be able to break the tension between them?

Word Count: 4.6+K

Warnings: Age differences (but still within legal boundaries), public sex, thigh riding, oral (male and female receiving), face fucking, orgasm denial, slight size kink, slight degradation, brief mention of the word 'daddy', unprotected sex (always use protection), creampie, threesome, Dom! Jongho, Dom! Mingi, Sub! Reader.

Taglist: @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @brie02 @deja-vux @daniblogs164 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny

· • • • ✤ • • • · ·· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·· · • • • ✤ • • • ·

"Oh god no."

The muscular male let out a long and exhausted sigh as he watched the perky and enthusiastic trainee wave at him as she poked her head at the entrance door to the gym. His athletic friend next to him heard his exhaustion and looked to see what the source of the trouble was.

"Who's that Jongho?" He pointed to the girl who was letting herself inside the gym, hassling a little when her bag got caught as the door was closing.

"That's Y/N, the newest person I'm training. You know? The one I told you about?"

The light bulb went off in his friend's head, recalling Jongho mentioning bits and pieces of information about the new trainee that enlisted his help. He looked back at the young woman, assessing her briefly with his eyes.

"She's cute."

Jongho shook his head as he picked up the weight he had dropped when he heard the excited voice call out to him.

"Yeah I know Mingi. Too cute." He grumbled.

The lively girl ran up to her P.T and the stranger that she had never seen before, but one look at him and she was just as mesmerized by him like she was with her trainer. He was taller than Jongho and although not as bulky as him, he still had a handful of muscles that were making her weak.

"So what are we working on today?"

Jongho gave her a puzzled look.

"Ummm we're not scheduled to train today Y/N. Remember? It's sort of a holiday, hence why the gym is empty." He reminded her, although it didn't surprise him that she'd show up just to see him.

"If we're not supposed to be here, then why are you here?" She counteracted his statement, arms crossing over her chest as her foot tapped against the floor mat.

Jongho looked over to Mingi, who looked like he was about to burst out laughing, lips pursed tightly to keep from making a sound.

"Me and my friend were actually just leaving now Y/N, so it was really pointless for you to come. Just go out, have fun with friends. Have a little cheat day if you even want." He tried everything to get the girl to leave, hoping she'd get convinced. He thought he made good progress when she slumped her bag over her shoulder, but he was wrong. Y/N wasn't about to let him go that easily.

"Then may I join you two? I don't have any plans for the day and I'd just...really like to spend some time with you today Coach." She bit her lip at him, hoping he'd get the hint.

Jongho's eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets, his friend turning around to take a sip of his water bottle as he slowly walked away from the pair, smirking to himself at how funny the situation was. Clearing his throat, Jongho stood up straighter and looked Y/N in the eye.

"I'm- I'm sorry Y/N, I think that it'll be best for you to go now."

He turned around and began picking up his stuff, trying to ignore the fact she was not only still standing behind him, but was actually coming closer to him.

"Do you not think I'm pretty coach? Am I not attractive enough for you? Have you never thought about me in that way.....even once?" He could hear the heartbreak in her voice, positive that if he turned to look at her, a childish pout would be plastered on her features. Indeed, as he glanced briefly back at her, her bottom lip was slightly quivering.

"I think you're very beautiful Y/N, but thinking about you in that way, much less getting into a relationship with one of my trainees is very unprofessional. So I think it's best if we keep our ties strictly business related. Plus..... I'm way older than you."

She shook her head at that,

"So? I don't mind the age difference and it could stay a secret between us if you'd like." She took his hand in her own, squeezing them as if her life depended on it, her eyes begging him to finally say yes.

"Y/N I..... I'm sorry. I can't."

Pulling his hand away, Jongho quickly gathered his stuff before rushing past her to make his way to the showers, leaving the helpless girl there stunned and with a hollow feeling. She looked at his figure that disappears with a heartfelt longing. She couldn't understand why he was so cold to her. There's no way he wasn't attracted to her, she'd caught him staring at her one too many times while she did squats and there was even that time where he nearly kissed her as he helped her do crunches. So why did he avoid her as if she had the plague. She didn't realize that she wasn't completely alone until she felt a figure looming behind her.

"Tsk tsk tsk. What a shame to leave such a pretty and young woman like that when she's practically throwing herself at you. He always was rather dense and stoic you know."

Placing his hands gently on her shoulders, Mingi rubbed his thumbs on the top of them, a slight smile tugging at one of the corner's of his lips.

"If I were him, I wouldn't hesitate to say yes to someone like you."

Y/N shuddered slightly when she felt his lips press against her ear.

"I'm not Jongho, but if you wanna forget about him for a few minutes, I'll be in the male sauna room. If you're interested of course." Even though she couldn't see his face, Y/N could practically feel his lascivious smile bearing down on her smaller figure, and it made her press her thighs together. Patting her on the bum with a firm grip, Y/N inadvertently exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding in as she watched Mingi send her a flirty wink before making his way down the hall and out of her sight. Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip as she pondered over Mingi's words. She wasn't going to deny that he wasn't attractive. He was devilishly handsome, not to mention tall as hell and the size difference between them was making her soak her panties even more. And she had absolutely nothing else to do......

What was the worse that could happen?

· • • • ✤ • • • · ·· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·· · • • • ✤ • • • ·

Hearing the door open then close immediately, Mingi smiled at the figure that had just came in, her body covered by the small towel tucked around her chest. Looking her up and down, Mingi not so subtly grazed over the bulge that was already poking out from underneath the towel tied around his waist.

"So you actually came. I'm actually quite surprised."

Patting his lap, he beckoned for her to come over and place herself on top of it, which she obediently did with no hesitation. When she sat down, the knot at the front of the towel came loose, nearly falling down, but luckily she caught it just in time before anything peaked out.

"Oh come now little one, don't be shy. Why don't you show me that pretty body of yours?" Mingi lifted his hands to her waist, smoothing out the cotton fabric that was keeping him from gazing upon her bare figure.

Lifting herself up just slightly, Y/N slowly peeled the towel off herself, letting it drop to the floor before perching herself back on top of Mingi's thick thighs.

"Oh geez. You're even more stunning than I imagined. Absolutely breathtaking."

Y/N closed her eyes as she let Mingi wander his large hands across her bare body. She felt embarrassed about being unable to contain her soft, murmured shaky breaths as he cupped both breasts in his palms and massaged them amply. She shuddered when his thumbs brushed back and forth across her nipples, highly sensitive to any touch placed on them. Mingi of course knew this and thus decided to take advantage of it. He tweaked and pinched at her tiny buds, enjoying the tiny shrills she was voicing out.

"If you're already like this with my hands on your chest, how will you be when I play with that pussy of yours my little one?"

Y/N emitted a long groan, her already aroused core secreting more slick that was pooling on the towel underneath her. She didn't think that nickname would affect her so much, but it was definitely doing something.

"Like being called that? Like being reminded that I'm not only taller but also much older than you doll?" And he hit on another one of her weaknesses, turning her into absolutely putty, even more so as his hand came down to brush against her mound.

"You really are something else doll. Jongho told me several things about you. Showing up in skimpy workout clothes just so he'd look at you, purposefully bending over so he'd check out your ass. Even asking him for help during stretching just so he'd lay his hands on you. By the looks of it, you're just a little slut that wants to get fucked so badly."

Y/N whined as his fingers came down to work on her clit, swirling around it in a slow and gentle pace.

"You're so dirty you even accepted to get fucked by your crush's best friend because you're that desperate." Mingi shook his head with a fake disappointment. His fingers started to go a little faster, rubbing fervently across her little button. Y/N's breathing started to quicken as well, her hips grinding against Mingi's thigh to the rhythm he moved his fingers on her clit.

"It kinda irks me to know I'm just a replacement for Jongho......" He let out an amused scoff as he suddenly halted all movements on her clit.

"Guess I'll have to fuck you so damn hard so you forget he even exists."

Y/N gasped when she was suddenly pulled off his lap so he could turn her to face him. Y/N's face turned a bright crimson color when Mingi pulled the towel off his waist, his cock springing free and standing erect. She couldn't stop staring. There was no mild way to put it: Mingi was huge. Bigger than anything she'd seen or taken in any of her holes. It scared yet thrilled her to think that cock would be in her at any moment. Mingi clasped a hand on her chin, making her turn her gaze back to his face.

"Glad to know you're drooling over my cock. "

Taking hold of her waist once again, Mingi guided her so she would be sitting right on top of his right thigh. He exhaled deeply when he felt her wet folds come in contact with his bare skin. He couldn't wait to feel her come undone all over them. Giving her ass cheeks a tiny squeeze, he dropped one hand down to strike against one of them.

"Don't just sit there little one. Rut yourself on my thigh like a bitch in heat." He ordered her.

Steadying her hands on top of his broad shoulders, Y/N began to grind her hips down onto his thigh. Mingi's thighs were extremely thick, toned, and the muscles were absolutely amazing for riding. Everytime she'd push herself up, Mingi would make sure to flex his thigh so that her bundle of nerves would be more stimulated. She kept a nice and easy pace so far, feeling bliss at rubbing her core all over his thigh. Mingi didn't seem too pleased though.

"Come on darling. I know you can do better than that."

Taking it as a challenge, Y/N gripped tighter onto his shoulders as started moving faster. She shut her eyes as her mouth began heaving out harsh pants. She rode Mingi's thighs as if it was the last thing she was going to do. His hands which were on her hips decided to take control, moving her down as they wanted her to. Mingi forced her even faster on his skin, his eyes fixed on seeing how her folds were coating the top of his thighs with her slick. And he could tell she preferred him guiding her pace, her breathing had hitched and become more intense when he took over her.

"Oh? Are you going to cum already?" Mingi chuckled when he noticed she started whimpering.

"I- yes." Y/N admitted shyly, her hands dropping from Mingi's shoulders to his chest, palms pressed against the top of his pecs.

"Damn. How horny and needy were you that you're about to come undone this fast?" Mingi teased her, to which Y/N pouted.

"Very."

Of course she was, Mingi thought. She came all the way over just to see if Jongho would fulfill her fantasy and fuck her, so no doubt she was horny since she left her house. Luckily for her, Mingi was a very giving individual.

"Then go ahead little one. Cum all over daddy's thigh."

Y/N let out a sharp and high pitched cry as she started to cum all over Mingi's thigh. He held her in place, continuing to rubbed his thigh against her clit to further heighten the sensation of her climax. Leaning his face forward, he placed tiny kisses in between her breasts as she started to recover from high she went through. With her back turned and Mingi's face buried in her chest, neither one of them noticed the door opening until the one coming in slammed it close behind him in am angry manner.

"What the fuck?!"

Both of them turned to see a very furious Jongho standing there, fists clenching and unclenching as he took in the state the two people in front of him were in. While Y/N looked horrified to see him there, Mingi had a shit eating grin plastered on his face as he gripped the girl closer to him.

"Nice to see you Jongho. Came to watch the show?" Mingi snickered.

"What the hell do you think you're doing with her Mingi? You're taking advantage of her!" Jongho accused in an indignant manner.

Mingi raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm not taking advantage of her when she herself came to me willingly. Honestly I'm just doing what she wanted you to do to her."

Jongho widened his eyes at that.

"Wait what are you-"

"Come on! Stop acting dense man. You know she's been wanting you to fuck her since the day she met you, yet you barely even bat an eyelash at her. So I'm giving her what you won't and she's not complaining."

Lifting her up, Mingi turned her to face Jongho, setting her back on his lap as he made sure to spread her legs so his friend could see the mess that had already been made in between her thighs. Although he tried to look away, being faced with his trainees nude figure had an immediate effect on him, which his friend obviously noticed.

"Just look at her lust filled face, look at her wet pussy begging to be fucked and tell me- No.... tell her you still don't want her."

Jongho looked up to find Y/N staring at him with pleading eyes, her bottom lip caught in her teeth. He started to have an internal conflict with his mind and body, one reminding him to stop and turn around right then while the other screamed at him to just give in.

"So what'll it be Jongho? Are you really gonna leave this beautiful girl, who's lusting for you, just like that?" Mingi spoke up again.

Before Jongho could say anything, Y/N's voice finally piped up.

"Please Coach. Just this once? Don't you want to fuck me?"

Jongho stifled back a groan at her persistence, his resolve was growing even weaker, more so when he saw Mingi lean in and start kissing across Y/N's neck. He pressed his lips against her, murmuring something which she seemed to agree with. Next thing Jongho knew, Y/N got off Mingi's lap and went over to him, getting on her knees in front of him as her hands reached for the towel that was girded at his hips.

"Wait- what are you?"

"Just let her be man. She just wants to show you how much she wants you."

Jongho gulped when he felt Y/N's hand wrap around his base. Looking up at him, she started to pump her hand up and down his shaft, her thumb circling around his tip so his precum could help in easing the handjob she was giving him. Y/N hummed as her eyes fell from Jongho's face to his cock. He was so thick, thicker than Mingi, although not as long as his friend. Nevertheless, he was packing a lot and his size made her mouth water. She began thinking about how far it could reach in her mouth. Itching to find out, she brought the head to her lips, tongue dipping into the slit before swirling around it to coat it with her spit.

"Fucking hell.." Jongho gasped, hands coming out to cup her jaw as she eased her mouth down his length, not stopping until she gagged when she felt him hit the back of her mouth, surprisingly not just the man in front of her, but his friend who was anxiously watching in the back.

Y/N closed her eyes and hummed as she pulled off his length before sinking it back inside her. Every time she stuffed him back in, she made she to give his length a long suck that made Jongho moan out in ecstasy. He couldn't deny it, he was enjoying it. Enjoying watching as his hot, young trainee was slurping around his cock, head bobbing as her tongue stroked all over him, making sure that not one inch of him was left dry or unsucked. Her cheeks were stuffed with all of him, tongue too busy occupied with making him feel good. Too good in fact. Before Y/N could even realize it, Jongho was pulling her off him. He chuckled lowly when he heard her disappointed whine as he made her stand up again.

"As much as I would have enjoyed watching you swallow me, I think I'd prefer to cum inside that little hole of yours. If it's all right with you of course." Jongho smiled so innocently at her, thumb grazing over her upper lip as he pushed her back to sit down on the upper deck of the sauna, right next to Mingi. He moved her so she laying right in between them, parting her legs so he could drop his head to hover right above her mound.

"I know someone who would be more than willing to have you swallow his cum though." Jongho signaled towards Mingi, who shifts himself so his cock could be right in front of her face. He smirked at her surprised face, slapping each of her cheeks with his tip.

"That is if she can even make me cum." Mingi challenged, sparking the competitive side of Y/N.

"Trust me, you'll be spilling yourself in her before you even know it." Jongho assured him.

Y/N parted her lips and moaned as Mingi engulfed her wet heat with his long dick. He gave a few experimental thrusts, wanting her to get comfortable before he got rough about it. He loved playing that game, starting off sweet and gentle before face fucking his lovers until they were a complete and utter mess around him. He rested his fingers on the sides of her cheek, carefully guiding her movements so she could suck him as he liked. He was caught off guard when she suddenly moaned loudly around him, the vibrations being felt all over his lower half.

"Jongho can you at least give a warning?" Mingi had looked over to see Jongho already burying his face in Y/N's heat.

"Nope. I prefer the surprise factor." He winked over at him.

Parting her wet lips, Jongho licked a long stripe along her slit before laying his tongue flat against her little button. Alternating between flicking his wet muscle on her clit and then tugging it forward with his lips as they lightly nibbled on it, Jongho's ears were attentive as he tried to listen to any sound coming from her mouth that were currently muffled by Mingi's cock. But her body reactions were enough to let him know she was enjoying it, given how she'd grind her hips up closer to his face.

"Someone is enjoying getting eaten out." Jongho smirked as continued suckling onto her clit.

"Yeah so much that she can't concentrated on sucking me off."

Deciding that it was time to get her attention back, Mingi gripped her jaw as he pushed his entire length until she was choking around him, holding it there before pulling out. Y/N had just enough time to take a deep breath before he was plunging his cock back inside. She was spurting out garbled whines, drool starting to trim down the sides of her lips and falling on the sides of her cheeks. She was so stuffed with Mingi's cock while Jongho ate her out to the fullest and it only fueled the growing arousal piling up inside her. She concentrated on relaxing her jaw and slurping around the cock lodged in her throat while simultaneously trying to enjoy as her coach's mouth worked on her core, expertly bringing her closer and closer to the edge with each swipe of his tongue. Feeling Mingi's dick twitch, she herself was about to spill over when Jongho dipped his tongue at her entrance, nose pressed down agains her clit.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum- cum inside that pretty mouth of yours."

Without any further words, only shaky grunts, Mingi held her face in place as he furiously rutted his hips up, pumping his cum into her mouth which she gulped back with no problem. Once he came down from his high, he pulled out his softening dick, a line of spit being drawn as he removed his cock. Her lips were swollen and covered with a mixture of her saliva and his cum, making her look even more irresistible, especially when her bottom lip was poking out, presumably due to the fact the man between her legs had detached his lips from her heat a few seconds ago, denying her from the orgasm that she was just about to have. With a frown plastered on, she looked down at Jongho, who was sitting up and climbing in between her body.

"Don't give me that look you little vixen. It's only serving to make me want to fuck you even harder." He admitted, lips ghosting over her own.

"So why don't you?" Y/N questioned him, to which Jongho responded by pulling both of her legs and resting them on his shoulders. Taking hold of his dick, he rubbed his bulbous tip along her reddened clit before slapping it a couple times.

"Think I won't?"

Pushing in with one quick thrust, Jongho's immensely thick cock started working her open, walls stretching out to accommodate the intrusion of his member. Y/N could feel him so deep inside her, she was sure if she be able to, she'd probably feel him on her lower abdomen. She could already feel him rearranging her organs from how hard he was pounding into her, it would be a miracle if she'd even be able to walk afterwards. When she tried to close her eyes and drop her head to just succumb to the feeling, she felt Jongho's hand clasp around her chin and hold her face up so she could look at him.

"Don't shut your eyes. I want to see every expression you make as I fuck your tiny pussy. After all, isn't this what you wanted?"

Y/N cried out louder when his pace got faster and harsher. She tried desperately hard to keep looking at him but it was unbearable, especially when her inner thighs were starting to get sore.

"Wanted me to fuck you? Are you happy you finally got what you wanted?"

She could only manage to respond with groans and pants. Their heated and sweaty bodies began sticking to each other, the loud slapping of skin resonating through the room. Jongho kept his eyes fixed on her, staring with fiery intensity at her. He kept driving his cock into her, pounding so deep that he'd be able to break her if he wanted to. But he was content with watching her slowly come undone by him, her shaky breaths and trembling thighs signaling him that she was on the verge of exploding all around him.

"Awww you're gonna cum already? Are you that easy? Or is it cause your finally getting fucked by a real man that you're coming undone so fast?"

Y/N whimpered and started writhing underneath him, tears pooling at the sides of her eyes as the knot in her stomach was seconds away from breaking loose. Jongho's hands gripped down on her thighs to keep him steady as his hips continued slamming against hers. His fingers dug into her soft skin, threatening to leave bruises from how strong he was clutching at her. His face continued to look smug and full of pride as he looked at how worn out his trainee was looking. He'd never outwardly admit it, but he enjoyed seeing her disheveled appearance after working her so hard and push her limits. Only now that feeling was intensified by the fact his dick was getting wet by her juices.

"Cum all over me then. Cum all over my fat cock you little vixen." He ordered her, eyes filled with lust and desire to see her break in front of him.

Unable to keep her eyes open anymore, Y/N scrunched her eyes shut and blood rushing to her head as her walls contracted around Jongho's cock, clinging to him as a flood of release was spilling all over him. Her palms were heavy pressed onto the wood deck under her, laying flat as she began to unwind from her orgasm. Just a minute later after savoring her reaction, Jongho's hips jerked sporadically as he started emptying himself inside her. Keeping himself lodged in her warmth, he slowed down his thrusts, making sure to pump all of his essence inside her before gently pulling out of her. Both of them released hisses at the sting and emptiness of not being connected anymore. Jongho looked in fascination as the brim of her hole was still leaking out his white, milky cum, a sense of pride washing over him at seeing a part of him be plastered into her body.

"You ok?"

Y/N let out a tired groan as Jongho helped her sit back up.

"I don't think I can walk." She wrapped a hand around her stomach, already feeling a burn on the muscles. Jongho giggled at her, pulling her against him as he kissed the top of her head

"If you want, I can take you off the schedule until you recover properly." He offered.

"And not see you?" She raised an eyebrow.

Poking her nose, Jongho shook his head.

"Silly silly girl. Obviously I'll come over to check up on you."

Y/N's face brightened up with a smile as she realized what he meant. A loud and exaggerated clearing of a throat broke them out of their little world.

"Well since obviously I'm not needed here anymore, I'll just take my leave now."

Picking up his towel and wrapping it around him again, Mingi went over to the door to give them privacy, but not before making sure of something.

"Just be sure to invite me once in a while to join you both."