#I toned down the salt on these but if you want it hit me up :p

[cardigan-ns]

BATHE ME CLEAN

Father Charlie Mayhew x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY - You came to him about your awful home life, how badly your parents and sibling treat you. He sees this as discrimination on him, and takes care of it for you. But you’re too vulnerable to notice his sickening ways.

WARNINGS - abusive parents, murder, blasphemy, father Charlie being unhinged as hell.

NOTE - Listened to a but-load of Ethel cain while writing this - “Family Tree” to be specific.

Father Mayhew’s eyes weakened as you sat there vulnerable and ripped open beside him, it was very late, so late that nobody was there, the sky had gone pitch black and there was nothing outside but the banshees and the looming creatures in the forests. You had on a pale pink dress and red heels, as if you’d just slipped them on and ran down the cobblestones to speak to him. And here he sat with you on the pew, watching you pour your innermost to him.

A sniffle came from your nose and your eyes faltered from the alter to his red boots, to your red shoes. The taint of the red carpet, as if you were drowning in a haunting memory you cannot let go of. “How long has this been going on for?” Father Mayhew swore to keep his anger in check as you, a beautiful girl, wept infront of him about how your father had hurt you, and your mother added salt to the wound by throwing your psychology books in the river behind your house. Your mother called it demons work, how you were figuring out the mind of the insane and sinned. Father Mayhew always credited you on it, when you’d come to him with awards and test scores you acccomplished, after every Tuesday mass. When he found out your mother shamed your academic passion, a wave of impurity took over him, he wanted to hurt her, so very badly.

“Since I was a little girl, maybe 5.” You breathed out as if that’s all you’ve ever known. Father Mayhew closed his eyes in pain at how your father had always hit you. He was a stern and troubling man, Charlie always clocked that everytime he walked through those wooden doors. But he was a good actor and he always played the role of the proud father who funds her education and always puts a smile on her face. “And yet you cannot escape them in college?” You shook your head at his question, your parents, for the sake of convenience and so they wouldn’t murder eachother while you went to a different state for university, forced you to pick a place closest to home, 5 minutes walk away. You couldn’t breathe with how trapped you felt.

“You aren’t going home tonight.” He was stern but soft with his eyes and the way his hand touched your knee, you slowly gazed to your side to see his somber tone, how he was adamant you don’t return home, a dead-of-night runaway. “Where will I go? I haven’t exactly got a good relationship with my older sibling.” Father Mayhew clocked your brother was a deadbeat, had a child young, and “supposedly” killed his girlfriend. You mentally disowned him, yet your parents praised him to the nines.

“Stay here, at the church, with me.” After every passing syllable his charm worked on you like a touch of an all powerful God. You were too struggled to think about the underlying connotations to his invitation. You just needed freedom. “Is that allowed?” His firm hand squeezed your knee, giving you a rush, and giving him the possession he needed to have you right where he wanted you. “Nobody will have to know.” His evil lips curled into something sinister, his eyes dark with sinful thoughts. “Plus I could use a little helper around the church. The nuns are on an exhibition in Rome, leaving me to my own devices.” He was convincing, you wet your bottom lip as it had gone dry from the crying, and you nodded, another small tear couldn’t help but fall. “Thank you.” You mumbled.

Father mayhews eyes became caring and wholesome once more as his thumb left your knee and reached up to your eye to wipe the stray tear away. “Hush. no time for tears. You’re in safe hands now.” His voice was husky as he whispered lowly, words barely audible by how nurturing he was being. You were so painfully wrapped around his finger, painted in his charm. You’d run to a werewolf down a darkened alley if it walked to you slow enough, ready to tear you apart limb from limb as you mindlessly apologise for being so easy to kill.

“I want you to go home and pack a bag. Silently, do not be seen or heard, are you listening?” The thumb that was wiping your face, now cupping your cheek, he felt protective over you, even though he was only a few years older, how dare your family hurt such a sweet and loving girl, all you ever wanted was to understand what made them the way that they are, and now you’re left in shambles under his touch. “I’ll be right back.” You shakily do what he tells you and you touch the hand on your cheek that heals you piece by piece. Your mind wasn’t even going to how touchy he was, just that a noble man like himself was seeing you truly without the mask on.

He watched you stand now, his eyes pained to watch you go, he knows you live walking distance away, you’ll be back quick enough but he can’t stand the thought of watching you walk so openly in the pitch black, any psycho could come and swoop you away from him, and the thought of never seeing you again brought a great darkened root pain to him. “Watch where you’re going now, my dear.” He stood and opened his arms for you to feel his full embrace, his big arms clothed you, capturing you in his sanctity. “I’ll be here waiting.” He kissed the top of your head and rubbed your shoulder for you to go.

While you made your secret venture back home, Charlie walked into his office, opened the wooden cabinet and opened a wooden box at the base of it. “The sinners of the world will feel the sickening vengeance of my wrath, as I heal the do-gooders of their demons.” He muttered to himself as he beheld the large blade he kept for emergencies, untouched, except for when it needed some care after sitting in a box for so long. He was going to christen this knife with the blood of the damned. All for his sweet angel.

As he thought out a plan he paced around the room, practicing the ways in which he was going to perform his slaughter. He himself was damned, but he would never hurt you the way your parents do. The way your brother’s envy masks the true beauty of your soul. He needed you to be loved, and he’d done that silently for the past year. He muttered verses to himself to delude himself he was the saint. Throughout his planning you’d come back, and you knocked on his office door, he quickly placed the knife back in its box and shut the cabinet just in time for you to make your entrance. “I’m back.” He smiled a glowing smile, seeing your back and how it seemed to be filled to the brim with things, he walked towards you. “Let me show you where you’ll be staying, follow me.” He locked arms with you and took your bag off your shoulders, you shouldn’t carry the weight of it, he put it over his own shoulder and walked you to his convent flat, he pat your soft hand as you walked.

He opened the door to his living area and shut the door, he wanted you, in every way, but you needed to settle first, and for that, he’d make you the safest you’d ever felt. You looked around and took in how plain but wonderful it looks, he seemed like a total neat freak, nothing was out of place, except the rather strange book choice he had on the coffee table. You shook your head and figured everyone was allowed some guilty pleasure. “It’s wonderful.” You smiled adoringly to the man who gave you a new start, and he gave you a proud huff, “it’s really nothing, if it were up to me, I’d have much more colour.” He clasped his hands together and rocked back and forth a little, “shall we get you to bed?” Your eyes perked up at the thought of slumber, and you nodded with a hum.

As you followed him down the short narrow hallway, you noticed this area was quite empty, you thought a convent would look bigger. But this wasn’t the convent, this was his quarter, but how were you to know the difference. “There’s only one bedroom, I hope you don’t mind.” Your brain spaced at his words, why on earth would he offer you to stay if he only had one bed. But his eyes were so inviting and innocent that they trapped you. “That’s okay. Where will I sleep though?” You figured he had a couch in the room. “Beside me, of course, I’m not going to banish you to the floor, don’t be silly.” He laughed a little to himself as he opened the door, your eyes landed on the bare room, white bedsheets, with a cross above the bed. You yawned at the sight of the bed, and Father Mayhews eyes graced your tired expression, he had such a soft spot for you it was making him weak. “Go lay down, my dear.” You ushered to the bed, and you obliged.

As your back hit the bed you closed your eyes, as heavy as they felt you opened them once more to see Father Mayhew at the end of the bed. His hands reached towards your heels and he slowly slipped the red heels off of you, patting your ankles when he took each shoe off. “Sit yourself up a second.” He spoke and you listened, back against the headboard as she pulled the duvet back and placed it over your body, almost poetically. His hands then touched your legs over the blanket. “Now rest, dear. I’ll come to bed in a while, I just have a few things I need to take care of.” His grin made you believe he was up to holy things, priest activities, like blessing the church for another safe night. But “take care of things” could also mean something that he was actually going to do, murder your family.

“Goodnight, Father.” You mumbled as he blew out the candle that was illuminating your sweet face. “Goodnight, may the angels rest your weary head.” He spoke as he kissed atop your head, and left you alone.

You heard a loud crash and bang that shocked you awake, it was coming from the living area of Father Mayhews quarter, you rubbed your forehead as you sat up, you didn’t know what time it was but that it was still awfully dark in your room. “Father?” You whispered a little scared, the noise was terrifying. Charlie threw his head back as he stumbled in and hearing your call made him curse to himself. “Fuck, I woke her up.” He thought.

“It’s just me, angel.” He called out from the living room, he decided he must come in and soothe your fears. He opened your bedroom door and his silhouette lingered at the door, he wasn’t dressed how he usually was, nor in pyjamas. He was in dark leather trousers, a black shirt, and something over his head which looked lack a cloth mask, but it was pulled up to his hair, a few stray strands peeking out messily. “You gave me a scare.” You mumbled from the bed, now sat up, he only tilted his head and smiled, flicking a miraculous medal in his hand, he shoved it in his pocket and took brisk steps to your aid, his firm hand touching your arm, the light of the open door brightening your face. “It’s safe now. You’re safe now.” He mumbled to you, as if assuring himself what happened in your childhood home was right and just, and you were none the wiser and would continue to be.

The more you looked at his darkened features you noticed a small speckle of blood on his nose, you reached your hand up and wiped it away, his eyes gazed at your touch and his mouth parted slightly, feeling dirty and guilty, having a touch so pure on his disheveled core, made him sick. But also gave him the impression god forgave him, by how welcoming your touch was. He then gained up the force to push your hands down to either side of your head, your eyes felt under watch, and trapped. “Father?” You questioned what he was doing, and his eyes lingered on yours for a little too long. He wanted you, that wasn’t unclear, but he’s drowning in guilt, having you after he’s sent your parents to hell…that’d be one hell of payback for them, it’d fill him with an ungodly amount of ego. But you looked so concerned for him, and then you uttered words he knew he couldn’t dampen. “Come lay down. You’re exhausted.” You expected he’d taken a midnight run, and that’s why he was so cold and worked up, the adrenaline was there but not because of good willed exercise. “I am.” His grip loosened on you and he sighed, he ripped the mask from his skull, and kicked his boots off.

“Close your pretty eyes.” He alerted you as he was about to undress. “Can’t have you tainting a priest, now can we?” He huffed a quiet laugh and you rolled over and let him get his sweatpants on. Once he was decent he laid down beside you and facing you, his hand cupping your cheek and your eyes consumed him whole, you felt like you still owed him every ounce of you, and he’d let you. But tonight was about seeking refuge, and you both had what you wanted, you had a safe home and he had someone to protect.

[tteokdoroki]

yuuta is rly good at fingering u with his long pretty fingers don't @ me 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. smut, fingering, praise kink, edging, afab!reader.

im going to scream and cry !!! yuuta is the type to draw out your pleasure — there’s nothing he loves more than seeing you feel good. it helps him get off faster when your back arches off of his sticky chest and your face is hot or teary eyed. when there’s salt on your skin and your thighs are quivering either side of his lap. his hard cock pressed against the curve of your ass.

yuuta doesn’t even need to get off, he’ll rut against you while you squirm and whimper against his thighs, your head thrown back against his shoulder because you can’t control your pathetic moans.

“do it for me baby, you can cum for me.” his fingers are skilled against your hot cunt, working you open like it’s nothing. he’s able to reach the deepest parts of you when you’re strapped against his lap my his strong arms — finger tips brushing up against your wet walls eagerly. “come on, i know you have it in you… you just can’t help but want to be good for me. you wanna let me see it.” he drawls, breath wet and hot as it cascades over the back of your neck.

he whines almost impatiently, dragging his thumb over your swollen clit in rough shapes. yuuta is mean with his fingers too, just when you think you’re about to hit release. your insides are gooey and pliant around his digits as they rapidly pump into you, hardly giving you a break from the heavy pleasure building up in your lower tummy, and then he stops.

if you whimper and cry about it, yuuta only giggles sweetly — his voice full of amusement as his slender fingers slowly pull out of you. “oh look at you, you’re so fucking wet. s’a wonder you haven’t cum yet, gorgeous.” you can practically feel his grin against the shell of your ear, your hole embarrassingly clenching around nothing. “my poor baby, don’t you want it so bad?”

one second you’re begging, pleading and clawing at yuuta’s hand to stop edging you, for something more — the next he’s bringing a hand down to slap your achingly desperate mound and chuckling breathily at the way your entire body jolts against him, your juices splashing about the place. “do you think you can take more of me? i think you can. it’s cute, how you’re always so eager for me.”

please, then he’s easing three fingers (instead of two) past your sopping entrance, moaning lightly and condescendingly along with you as you struggle to take him. “there we go, i knew you could do it, angel.” yuuta mumbles sweetly, contrasting with the way he so harshly finger fucks you — bearing down harshly on that gummy spot that knocks you over the edge of euphoria. “there it is, my baby’s special spot. that’s where you feel it most, right?”

you’re nodding along dumbly and before you know it, your release is streaming out of you and over his fingers like an erotic river, blood rushing through your ears and a scream of his name tearing in your throat.

but yuuta’s far from done, fucking his long fingers back into you and smearing your orgasm all over your puffy folds.

“i knew you could do it,” he says, his praised coated in a salacious tone that tells you that you’re in danger. “now let’s try that again, shall we? but this time, you’ll take more of me.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[solbaby7]

Hii could I please get a neat Moscow mule with a salt rim ❤️

🧉here you go 💗💗

[ “i don’t like the way he / she looks at you” + smut + az ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

There had always been whispers about Illyrian males and the possessive streak that scorches its way through their veins. How it awakened with their first cry at birth and remains until their last breath.

You’d never thought you’d witness it firsthand.

Seeing that shift in Azriel’s features is unmistakable. The comfortable lines of his stoicism usually rests heavy along his brow bone, casting shadows along his eyes until the rich amber of his iris is stark in contrast. Even then, you’re used to seeing some semblance of warmth residing in there but the danger lingering within them now is staggering—forces the object of his surveillance to raise a hand to the back of their neck, eyes scanning the crowd for the culprit.

Az is too good to be caught though. Too skilled to be seen. A wolf that blends in seamlessly in a crowd full of sheep and he detects it immediately when another predator is present. “Who is that?”

You follow his line of sight, grumbling in distaste almost instantly when you notice that familiar tuft of curly blonde hair. “Tyson,” His brow raises at your tone, stance sturdy and arms crossed over his chest. You can feel the heat radiating off of him; briefly acknowledging the sentient shadows that nudge you in closer, partially hiding you behind his bulk. Protecting what they deemed as theirs. “—but all the Valkyrie’s call him tick.”

“Tick.”

“Yeah,” Your head nods along in confirmation, fingers hooking in the loops of your leathers to shimmy them up higher on your hips. “‘Cause he latches on like one—damn near impossible to shake.”

There’s a brief pause, a rumble of a noise vibrating through his chest like a lion in wait that rests on its haunches. Azriel’s prey drive is triggered, specially attuned to the way Tyson leans casually against a post, blue eyes trained on you while you warm up, taking time admiring the way your leathers fit like second skin. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

He’s skilled with a sword, Az notes, but that wandering eye is sure to get him killed. The shadowsinger can feel the way his fingers form into fists when Tyson’s gaze meanders down the slope of your back and settles around the generous curve of your ass. It wobbles temptingly as you practice, core tight and form stunning as all sorts of daggers are shot through the air at warp speed.

Every blade hits its respective bullseye.

You're one hell of a prize. One that Tyson so foolishly thinks he’s good enough to win.

Shoulders square, feet apart, knees ever so slightly bent. Even breaths as you line up the next blade, eying where you wish for it to land. "How does he look at me?"

"Like he wants to fuck you."

You pray he doesn't notice the way your body freezes in place, grip faltering on the hilt of your dagger. A thick swallow, throat clumsily clearing and lashes fluttering with nerves as you make a point to keep your face forward. "How would you know what that looks like?"

"Because, I want to fuck you." Thighs clench at the flippant way he says it—so casually. Like it's common knowledge. As if he hasn't just rendered you speechless and filled you full of want off one sentence alone. The smell of him engulfs you when he closes the distance, his chest to your back. Shadows teasing at the sides of your thighs like phantom palms that waste no time memorizing the new terrain. "You're holding that wrong."

"Am I?" More intelligent words are robbed right off of your tongue when he presses against you, the weight of his growing erection digging into your spine, teasing around the dimples that rest right above your ass. You can't help but lean into him, allowing him to adjust your fingers around the daggers hilt.

Never once had you thought such a simple touch could ignite this kind of spark within you. A fire that damn near burns you alive; it begins in the pit of your stomach, gnawing at organs and muscle, tearing through soft tendons and sinew in its desperation for release. "Like this, baby." His lips graze the curve of your ear, forcing goosebumps to assault your skin.

Azriel doesn't adjust a thing about your form. Instead, he openly gropes at the fat of your hips. Slides his palm possessively over the soft swell of your abdomen. Trails a hand up the crease of your breasts until a five finger grip is curling its way around your throat. "What are you doing?" You whisper, craning your neck to provide more access. Allowing the steady pressure squeezing at your jugular.

He's putting on one hell of a show.

Staring that blonde bastard right in the eye as he drags his nose along your temple, pressing his lips against your skin just because he can. "Pest control." A thick thigh nudges its way between your legs, the bulk of Azriel's body blocking you from all peering eyes but one.

Tyson vibrates with rage as Az guides your hips, dragging your clothed cunt along solid muscle until lids flutter and lips part. It's an agonizing kind of pleasure—one that's everything and nothing at the same time. Stimulating but not fully satisfying when you really crave the turgid length of his cock that strains against his leathers.

It takes a second too long to realize that he's not really doing this with your pleasure in mind.

He barely pays you any real attention as discreet shadows creep under your top to twist at taut nipples, squeezing and pulling until the heartbeat in your chest travels all the way down to your pussy.

No, he merely uses you as a pawn. Plucking and toying, licking and biting at the junction of your neck until all that can be scented on you is arousal and Illyrian. "Az, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet, sweet thing. Want him to look at you when you cum for me."

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Two.

Previous Chapter. Next Chapter. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Pairing - Dad's Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky try to navigate what it means to be soulmates - and how difficult it is to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings - smut. cursing.

Word Count - 4k

Author's Note - part two!! thank you SO much for all of the love on part one - it has made me immensely happy. you're all the sweetest and i'm so grateful. i'm going on vacation in a few days, so i'm taking a hiatus for a few weeks as i won't have cell service. so, consider this my parting gift to you <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! I will get excited with you!!

Masterlist. Inbox.

Sunlight streams through the billowing white curtains, rousing you slowly. The gentle breeze cools the room, salt sticking to the air. Warmth is seeping into the glass of the windows, encouraging you to kick your sheets to the foot of your bed, limbs stretching and rolling.

You wake, and for a moment, you feel perfectly at peace. You feel light, tranquil, relaxed. You flex your neck from side to side, yawning as you do it. You notice that the sun is already up, beaming into your bedroom. It's going to be a very warm day, you think. I better pack sunblock.

You glance to where your bag is thrown haphazardly on the floor, contents spilling everywhere. It's unlike you, to not put something away properly. You take pride in being a tidy person. You must have been exhausted when you got home last night.

That's when it hits you.

Bucky.

The events of yesterday coming crashing down around you like a tidal wave. Hearts racing, hands interlacing, lips melding. Bodies tangling, breaths matching, knees buckling. Two souls, tied together forever.

Your Tethering.

To Bucky. Your Dad's best friend Bucky.

His absence is suddenly all you can think about. He's not here, and you feel like half of your heart is missing. You ache. There's a discomfort that you know can only be cured by the presence of your soulmate.

You're deep in thought when your phone rings, startling you. It's Bucky.

"Mornin' sugar," he drawls. The low tone of his voice is like molten honey, gorgeous and golden.

"Good morning, Buck."

You hear him exhale at the sound of your voice.

"I know we said we'd meet at ten, but can we make it earlier?" he asks. Then, quieter, "Feel like I can't breathe without you."

He murmurs the last part, as if it's a secret. Something sacred.

"Of course, Buck. I can be ready by nine?"

"Thanks, sweet girl. I'll pick you up?"

"Perfect. See you then."

"See you then."

It's almost painful to hang up the phone. It's like there's a gravitational force in The Universe, willing you against it. You ignore it defiantly and press the red button, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

There's something in your gut telling you that this might just be the first day of the rest of your life. You certainly can't go back to the way things were. You're not sure if you want to.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky arrives at 8:45.

You're in the bathroom with the door closed, so you don't hear him pull up. You feel it. Like a magnetism, alerting you to his whereabouts. You breathe a little easier immediately, knowing he's outside.

You grab your bag and the picnic and pull on your shoes, eager to see him. You feel like a teenager again, giddy with anticipation. Apart from, this isn't your average first date. No, this is your last first date ever. This is a first date with the man you're bound to spend the rest of your life with. No pressure, you tell yourself. One step at a time.

Your heart kicks up in double time, thundering against your ribcage. You inhale deeply, cracking your knuckles. You can do this. It's just Bucky.

You bound down your stairs, practically running to his truck. Bucky's leaning against the passenger door, the wind ruffling his hair, sunlight reflecting off his steely blue eyes. He's wearing shorts and a white button up, which is blowing gently in the breeze. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms, exposing his gorgeous tanned skin. He has several shirt buttons undone, accentuating his broad chest, sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket. He looks so handsome. So classically elegant. Like he belongs in an old movie - a perfect leading man.

He eyes you carefully, gauging your reaction. You can tell he doesn't want to overstep, worried about pushing you too far too fast. You walk over and run your fingers across his exposed chest gently, tracing a path up his neck until you're caressing his cheek. His stubble tickles your fingertips, causing a smile to curl at the corners of your mouth. You finally meet his gaze, and all your stress is forgotten. You feel peaceful again.

"Hi," you whisper.

"Hi, pretty girl," he murmurs back, hands finding your waist. "You alright?"

"I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he grins. "So, how do you feel about a day of sailing? You, me, and the ocean, baby."

"I think that sounds perfect."

He opens the car door for you, helping you up and into the passenger seat. He climbs in, clicking on his seat belt and starting the engine. Before he pulls away, he turns and looks at you, holding your stare for a moment. Bucky reaches for you, lacing your fingers together, resting your intertwined hands on your thigh. He begins to drive away, taking you towards the ocean. Towards your future.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You know nothing about sailing.

Luckily, you don't need to. Bucky's quite content to keep you sitting pretty on the top deck while he does all of the work, pulling and tying and knotting. The crisp white sails billow in the wind, the ocean waves providing a steady, constant soundtrack. Birds fly overhead, sunshine beaming down, the wood underneath you warm and smooth. It's paradise.

You're soaking up the sun rays when you hear a click. You sit up to see Bucky holding his film camera, pointed right at you.

"Creep," you tease.

"Just want to have something to look back on. Our first day as soulmates. It's an occasion, you know," he grins.

He moves across the boat to sit next to you, thigh pressed up against yours. He's so close you can taste the spearmint on his breath. You tangle a hand in his hair, caressing the back of his head.

"I brought you a few new things to try," you tell him. "Some recipes I'm testing. I want your honest opinion. No sugar coating. Promise?"

"I promise," he winks, holding up a scouts honour. "I wouldn't lie to you, honey."

You reach over and grab your picnic basket, unwrapping various beeswax packages and laying them out in front of you.

"Okay - we have white chocolate and pistachio muffins, raspberry and lemon macarons, earl grey and lavender cookies and carrot and cinnamon cake."

You glance over at Bucky, expecting him to be deciding what to try first. Instead, you find him watching you carefully, gentle smile etched across his face.

"What?" you laugh.

"Nothing," he beams. "I just... I love it when you start talking about food. You're passionate. You light up."

"Don't make it weird," you joke, slightly taken aback by his honesty. He did promise not to sugar coat.

He reaches for a macaron, eager to try one after you mentioned them yesterday. He pops one in his mouth, and lets out a groan that can only be described as pornographic.

"Fuck," he moans. "This might be the best thing I've ever eaten."

"You promised you wouldn't lie," you laugh.

"I'm not," he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart. "I swear to you. These things should be used as medicine. They'd cure anything."

"Shut up," you tease bashfully, bumping your shoulder into his.

He tries the other sweets one by one, complimenting you immensely. He's so specific in the way he commends your baking. He comments on certain flavours, and textures, and the way everything melts on his tongue. He really takes the time to think about what he says. It's so intimate.

"You're gonna do this for a living, right?" he asks, turning to face you.

"I hope so," you confess. "It's all I want to do. Going to culinary school was a huge risk, but I did it. It was difficult, but they were also the best four years of my life. I just learned so much. I want to put it all into practice."

"I think you should. It'd be such a waste if you didn't. You're so talented, sugar."

"Thanks, Buck," you grin. "I just don't know where to start."

He thinks for a moment.

"If you could do anything, anything in the world - what would you do?"

He's looking at you so intensely, you almost want to shy away. His steel blue eyes are boring into you, reading your mind, figuring out your soul.

"I'd... I'd open a bakery of my own. I want a lot that overlooks the ocean. With big windows."

Bucky smiles gently, adoration written across his face.

"I'd be your most loyal customer," he vows. "Oh, I have a better idea - I'll be your quality control. I'll taste test everything before you sell it. You know, just in case."

"Just in case," you laugh. "Right."

"It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it," he winks.

The sound of your laughter is like dopamine to Bucky. It fires off neurons in his brain, receptors buzzing and alight. He almost feels drunk off the sound, floating above ground.

You relax into him, laying down and resting your head in his lap. He's warm, and soft, and so comfortable. You could lie here forever.

He runs his fingers through your hair gently, playing with the strands. The repetitive rocking of the boat lulls you into an easy sleep, the sunlight wrapping around you, taking the place of a blanket. Bucky watches you drift off, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

A particularly strong gust of wind wakes you, rousing you from sleep. Your fingers are interlinked with Bucky's, head still resting on his strong thighs.

"How long was I out?" you ask, looking up at him.

"Like, twenty minutes? You looked peaceful, thought I'd let you rest."

"Sorry, Buck," you chuckle.

"Hey, don't apologise. I'll take it as a compliment. You know, they say you only sleep around the people you feel safe with."

"They say a lot of fuckin' things," you laugh, repeating his words from yesterday.

"I do, though," you say after a moment. "Feel safe with you. It's not just the soulmate thing. I always have."

Bucky leans down to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. He pulls away and kisses the spot where you were just connected.

"We should talk about us," you murmur, sitting up to face him.

"Uh oh. Are you breaking up with me?" Bucky jokes, nudging your knee with his.

"Yeah, right," you scoff. "As if you'd be so lucky. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

"I'll survive," he winks. "But we should. Talk about us."

You look at each other for a moment, carefully. You notice that the ocean is reflecting in Bucky's eyes, waves gleaming and blue.

"I don't know where to start," you whisper.

"Maybe start at the beginning," he suggests, reaching out to rest his palm on your thigh, fingertips rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

"I... I think - I think we should do exactly that. Start at the beginning."

He nods at you reassuringly, urging you to continue.

"I want to start slow. Really slow. I know we already know each other, but this... this is different. We don't know each other like this."

"Like soulmates," he agrees. "It's a whole other level. A league of its own."

"Exactly. I know we're Tethered, but, I think we should treat this like a normal relationship. We should date, and just... take this step by step."

"One step at a time," he confirms. "Prepare yourself, honey. I'm about to date the hell outta you."

"Someone save me," you laugh, throwing your head back. "All those poor girls that have come before me - they had to put up with this?"

He laughs with you, the sound rumbling in his chest.

"Trust me, sugar, you're different."

Bucky leans forward and slots his lips to yours, hands going to your waist to pull you closer.

Kissing your soulmate is unlike any other feeling. It's complete serenity. Two bodies, designed by The Universe to fit together perfectly.

Your fingers thread through Bucky's hair as you move to sit in his lap, straddling him. You grind your hips forward, illiciting a groan from the both of you.

Bucky slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting the sugar there. He can't get enough. You're so sweet and soft underneath his hands, underneath his tongue. He wants more.

He tips you backwards, so you're lying flat on the deck. Bucky moves to kneel in between your legs, prying them open gently. He kisses his way from your ankle to your knee, occasionally nipping at your flesh. He likes the idea of there being a mark on you that he left. He feels more protective of you than he ever has of anyone. The feeling vibrates through his bones, fires up his nerve endings. He needs to feel every inch of your skin as soon as possible, or he's convinced he'll burst into flames.

He smooths his hands up your thighs, fingers catching in the waistband of your shorts. He shimmies them down your legs, and inhales sharply at the sight before him. You're laid out on the deck of his boat like a goddess, the white shirt adorning your body matching the white lace underwear underneath. The sun rays are beating down, illuminating you, making you glow from the inside out. Bucky can't breathe, looking at you. He feels like all of the oxygen has been stolen from his lungs, replaced with pure desire.

You're breathless, panting, chest heaving. You're shaking with anticipation, willing him to do something. Anything.

"Bucky," you whine. "Please."

He's never heard a prettier sound. It's like angel song, the way you say his name.

"Patience, sweets. I thought we were taking it slow."

"Asshole," you laugh, poking him in the chest with your toe. "You're a hypocrite."

"Am I?" he smirks, running his fingertips across the inside of your thighs.

"Yes. You can't kiss me like that and then tell me to have patience."

"My apologies, ma'am."

He leans over and kisses you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away. Bucky slips your underwear down your legs and tucks them into the pocket of his shorts, ignoring your scoff as you watch him do it.

"Come here, pretty baby," he murmurs, tugging at your hips to pull you closer to him.

He nudges your core with his nose, inhaling deeply. It's filthy, the action, but it makes you ache with want. He licks into the crease of your thigh next, tasting the salt on your skin. Your hand flies to his hair, tugging the chocolate strands. You whine again, and Bucky commits the sound to memory.

He surprises you by sucking your clit gently, causing your hips to buck up towards his mouth. He splays one hand across your stomach, holding you down. He uses his other hand to insert a finger into you, groaning at your warmth. He crooks it up, and you keen.

"I know, baby, I know," he coos, adding a second finger.

You're not sure if it's because of the glaring sunlight or because of Bucky, but there's a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin, dripping down your temple. You're burning from the inside out, white hot heat running through your veins.

He thrusts both fingers in and out of you steadily, curling them on the up stroke. You throw your head back, hips wriggling and writhing.

"Where you going, pretty girl?" he drawls. "Come here - that's it."

He pulls you back to him, fingers never stopping. He looks up at you, and notices that you've thrown a hand over your face, shielding yourself.

"Don't go shy on me now," he practically purrs, smiling when you move your arm away. "Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Fuck," you moan, suddenly glad you're in the middle of the ocean. The sounds you're letting out are filthy.

"I know, pretty baby. I know."

His fingers push you closer and closer to the edge, speeding up slightly. You're whining, keening, hips bucking up into him. You can't stay still. You feel like you're on fire, red hot electricity running through you. It's never been like this with anyone before. It never will be again.

"You're close, honey, I can feel it. You're almost there," he drawls. "Atta girl. Come on, baby. You got it. Good girl."

His low, honeyed words throw you into your climax, back arching off the sun warmed wood. Bucky talks you through it, encouraging and praising you in hushed murmurs. You see stars, bright white patterns flashing behind your eyelids. The world goes quiet for a moment, and all you feel is peace.

Bucky brings you back to reality by rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin of your thigh, still muttering softly. He lets you catch your breath before leaning over and kissing you gently.

"You okay, sugar?"

You smile at him in a daze, still floating on air.

"I'm good, Buck. Very good, actually."

He laughs at your response, moving your hair away from your face. You sit up to look at him, admiring him carefully.

"You're so pretty," you whisper. "I mean, I've always known it. But now, it's so... blinding. You're the most beautiful person in the world."

He's not sure how to process your words. He's never felt so loved, so safe, so appreciated before. It's overwhelming. He doesn't know what to say - so instead, he kisses you hard.

"You're the sweetest girl in the world, you know that right?" he whispers against your lips.

He moves to sit behind you, so your back is resting against his chest. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like warmth, and salt, and home.

"I don't think we should tell my parents," you say lowly, afraid to ruin the moment. "Not yet, anyway."

"I agree," he reassures. "I think we should figure this out first. Figure us out."

You lean up and peck his lips gently, pulling away to trace your fingertips over the contours of his face.

"It's gonna take a while to figure this out, isn't it?"

"That's the thing, sweet girl. We have all the time in the world."

You relax back into his arms, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into complete tranquility.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You spend all day on the boat with Bucky, soaking up the sun. Your shirts are billowing in the wind, hair blowing in every direction. The ocean rocks you both in routine motion, gentle and calming.

He teaches you the basics of sailing, sitting knee to knee with you while you repeatedly tie knots into pieces of rope. He stands behind you comfortingly as you pull and tug at the rigging, supporting you only when you ask for help.

The two of you sit tangled together on the deck, enjoying your picnic. You take a moment to rub sunblock into Bucky's shoulders, ignoring the heat that rises in your chest when he groans in delight. He's irresistible. This is more than just lust. This is a magnetism, an almost animalistic connection. It's quite literally written in the stars.

The both of you are clearly reluctant to go home. You sit in Bucky's truck outside your apartment for hours, talking about nothing and everything. You don't invite him upstairs. You know that if you do, you'll jump his bones instantly. You've both agreed to take this slow. You have to start being strict with yourselves, or you'll just keep ending up in bed.

Eventually, your stomach rumbles, making Bucky chuckle.

"You should go. Eat something."

"I know. I just... I like being with you."

He leans over the centre console to press a kiss to your lips, revelling in the way you taste like the ocean breeze.

"There's no one else in the world I'd rather be with," he murmurs against your mouth.

You pull away and take a deep breath, preparing to leave Bucky for tonight.

"Thank you, for today. It's been perfect."

"Perfect day for a perfect girl," he winks, making you both laugh.

"One step at a time."

"All the time in the world," he echoes.

"Goodnight, Buck," you whisper, moving in closer to press your forehead to his.

"Goodnight, honey girl," he whispers back, pecking your lips quickly.

He jumps out of the drivers side to help you down from the truck, holding your hand carefully. You smile at the déjà vu. He does too.

You look back at him once more before closing your front door. He's already looking at you, his eyes never once leaving your frame, smile never leaving his face.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're curled up on the couch when your phone rings, startling you from your peace. You look at the caller ID in confusion.

"Stella? Hey - you okay?"

"Hey, you. Long time no see, huh?"

"It's been a while," you laugh. "I didn't expect a call from you."

"I'm sorry we haven't talked in so long. I've been super busy - I'm opening my own café! It has a bookshop inside it too - oh it's gorgeous, you wouldn't even believe it."

"That sounds amazing, Stella. I'm so happy for you, wow."

"I'm actually calling because I have something to ask you."

"Ask away, Stell."

"I have a sort of... proposition for you. An offer, if you will."

"You're really building the anticipation here," you chuckle.

"Sorry, sorry! So, I'm gonna need a Head Baker. I can't do it, because I'll be manager, and I'm the owner which is a tough job in itself. Opening a café is fucking difficult, you know!" she laughs, before continuing. "You'd have complete creative control - you'd design your own bakes, everything would be completely down to you. There's quite literally only one person in this world that I'd want to do this job, and it's you."

You almost can't believe what she's telling you. It sounds perfect. It sounds like a dream.

"Stella - are you sure? This is a huge deal. You want me?"

"I only want you. I can't picture working alongside anyone else. We made such a good team in culinary school, and we always said we'd find each other in the future."

"I... I don't even know what to say."

"Say yes!" she encourages, giggling down the phone.

"Yes!" you echo, giddy with joy. "God, Stella, yes!"

You're smiling from ear to ear, unable to wipe the grin off your face. Your dream job has been presented to you on a silver platter. You'd be stupid not to take it.

"I mean - when do I start? What should I wear? Do you want a set menu, or can I change it up all the time? Vegan options? Gluten free?"

"I can send you all of the boring stuff in an email - contracts, salary information, all that shit. You can quite literally do whatever the fuck you want, girl. I trust you completely. I trust your culinary skills even more."

"Oh my god, I'm so excited. Thank you, Stella. Seriously. This is just amazing."

"I can't wait to have you here with me again!"

You process for a moment, trying to make sense of what she just said.

"Wait... what? Where?"

"In California. The café is here, in California!"

You can't hear her next words due to the ringing in your ears. Your chest tightens, your hands ball into fists, your breathing becomes ragged.

There's a million thoughts racing through your mind, and you can't quite get a firm grasp on any of them.

Bucky would never leave this place. This is his home. I can't ask him to abandon his life here - I wouldn't want to. We've been soulmates for two days. What about his job? His friends? Would I leave everything behind and move across the country for him? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I can't have my cake and eat it too. He'd give everything up for me in a heartbeat - I can't let him. It's not fair.

You're suddenly intensely aware - you have to make a choice.

Bucky or your dreams.

Tag List -

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tag list continued here <3

[chxrryhansen]

rafe with a gun kink??

-💋

you never disappoint with these asks bae!!🫶🏻 sorry i turned this so dark also kinda poetic?…

DARK CONTENT WARNING!!

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

you yelped as your shoulder banged against the door frame, rafe shoved you into the bedroom, slamming the door closed.

his jealousy had hit, once again. some guy flirting with you his party had gotten him all riled up, as if the stranger didn’t know you belonged to rafe, everybody on the island did. you hadn’t even flirted back, of course you wouldn’t of, you simply told the man you were taken and that you were sorry…but rafe’s insecurity got the better of him, just as it always did. his need and want for validation from you towering over his sanity.

“r-rafe stop! you’re hurting me!” He shushed you by covering your mouth with his hand.

“shut the fuck up. apologising to the fuckin’ asshole. ‘i’m sorry i have a boyfriend’ what the fuck are you sorry for you slut, sorry you can’t fuck the guy? no chance.” he murmured, his mental state slipping as he pulled your pink mini skirt up against your hips, exposing your white cotton panties making you cry out.

you wished he could hear himself right now, he sounded insane. suddenly he reached behind you, grabbing something out of his drawer. your eyes widened in fear, the realisation of what the item was hitting you like a train.

rafe laughed at your expression “don’t look so scared baby, tell you what, you be fuckin’ quiet n’ stay still, and daddy won’t blow your brains out for being a dirty cheatin’ whore. how does that sound, hmm?”

the tears began to leave your waterline, droplets of salt pouring down your flustered cheeks as you sobbed. he had never gone this far before, i mean sure he’s threatened you plenty of times but never to this extent.

instead of taking your panties off like a normal person, rafe got down on his knees, tearing them off with his teeth. the cold air hitting your cunt left you breathless, yet the warm air from his breath filled your lungs once again. rafe slid a finger inbetween your slit, gathering your wetness and pulling back to show you his soaked digits.

“fuck, baby. who knew you were such a slut”

his laugh was dangerous.

“kidding, i knew. i fuckin’ knew you’d love this shit, cause’ your just such nasty little whore aren’t cha’. disgusting slut.” you whimpered at his cruel words, yet you couldn’t deny the sap leaking from your cunt. like honey oozing from bark. without even slipping a finger inside your pussy to stretch you out, rafe lifted the gun, pressing it against your entrance.

“your gonna’ be a good girl, and your gonna’ take daddys gun inside your pretty pussy like a cheap fuckin’ whore. if that’s how you wanna’ act thats how im gonna’ treat you.”

without warning he pushed the gun into your pussy, your cunt gripping it like a vice. you screamed as he penetrated you, the weapon hitting your cervix with his first movement as he rammed it into your hole.

“shh shh shh, it’s okay, sweet girl. let it all out.” he whispered, his tone still volatile.

there was no doubt the man from earlier could hear you, and everyone else downstairs. rafe made sure of it.

[pin-k-ink]

linger // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ quickie, rough sex, semi public sex, masturbation, biting/marking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, dirty talk, making out, hoshina is fucking horny

wc ⇢ 2.7k

Your hips swayed hypnotically as you strode through the bedroom doorway, duffle bag slung over one shoulder. Soshiro couldn't tear his eyes away from the enticing roll of your curves even if he tried.

He sat rigidly on the edge of the bed, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists atop his thighs. Jaw clenched, throat bobbing convulsively as he fought with everything he had not to pounce and haul you bodily into his lap right then and there.

Two weeks. It had been two goddamn weeks since Soshiro last had a chance to properly touch you. To run his palms over the lush valleys and dips of your body he knew so intimately. To grip your hips as he buried his cock to the hilt inside your velvet cunt while your fingernails scored down his back deliriously.

His cock strained painfully against the front of his sweatpants, rapidly swelling thicker at just the memory of your breathless cries and the way you trembled around him so perfectly. Soshiro cursed under his breath as you bent over, ass practically on display in those tight leggings, gathering something off the floor.

Fuck, he was going insane not being able to put his hands and mouth all over you. The itch beneath his skin was becoming unbearable with each passing moment spent in your proximity but unable to indulge. Soshiro's focus zeroed in on the inviting curve of your spine, imagining dragging his tongue along that tantalizing path and tasting the salt on your skin.

You straightened up and he quickly averted his gaze, chest heaving like he'd just run sprints. Hands flexing with the effort of not reaching out and touching as you sauntered closer.

"You know..." Soshiro ground out through gritted teeth. "A guy could start feeling real neglected with how much time you've been spending away lately, gorgeous."

He caught the flash of a smirk over your lips out of the corner of his eye and clenched his jaw tighter, fingernails biting into his palms. You always got that little amused quirk whenever he started getting frustrated over lack of sex.

"Maybe if someone wasn't always so impatient about getting me naked and into bed, this separation anxiety wouldn't hit him so hard," you teased lightly.

A muscle in Soshiro's cheek twitched at your taunting tone, heat lancing straight through his core. He jerked his piercing gaze up to pin you with a glare smoldering enough to scorch.

"Don't play coy, babygirl," he growled raspily. "I know you miss feeling me buried deep too, fucking you until you're a whimpering mess beneath me as much as I crave it."

The blatant confession hung heavy in the charged air between you. Soshiro watched hungrily as your cheeks flushed and pulse fluttered in that pale throat of yours. Taking your lip between your teeth in that maddeningly alluring way that always made him want to bite and suck until they were swollen.

God, he needed to touch you. To slake this scorching thirst driving him half out of his mind before leaving for your damn deployment. Soshiro couldn't take being separated from your body for that long without at least one more drawn-out tasting to tide him over.

He was on his feet and stalking towards you before the conscious thought fully formed. You sucked in a sharp breath but held your ground, back stiffening as if preparing for the onslaught of his intensity.

Strong hands gripped your hips with bruising force as Soshiro crowded you backwards until your spine met the wall. His hungry gaze raked over your parted lips, the rapid flutter of your pulse, those dark eyes gone wide with a heady mixture of arousal and trepidation

"Tell me you don't need this too, gorgeous," Soshiro rasped against the tempting curve of your jaw, nipping with just enough delicious sting to make you jerk. "Just one round before you leave me behind again for god knows how long..."

Despite his demanding tone, his touch remained reverent. Palms spanning the dips of your waist, the flare of your hips, committing every inch to rapturous memory. When Soshiro finally claimed your mouth in a searing, lush glide, it took every ounce of restraint not to simply shove you down and take you against the bedroom wall right then and there.

Soshiro's hands roamed over your body greedily as your heated kiss quickly turned frantic. He backed you up until the wall was a solid line against your spine, grinding his painfully stiff cock against your clothed pussy shamelessly.

When you started tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants, he groaned into your mouth - finally about to get some relief for the aching tension that had been torturing him for weeks on end. But then you suddenly wrenched away, leaving him panting harshly.

"S-Stop, Soshiro..." you managed breathlessly, hands braced against his chest. "I have to be on that transport in less than thirty minutes, we don't have time..."

A gravelly snarl ripped free from his throat as you wiggled out of his grip completely. Soshiro's fingers flexed with the visceral need to simply grab you again and take what he so desperately craved one last time before being denied for god knows how long.

But that sane part of him understood your duty couldn't be delayed or ignored no matter how delirious his hunger raged. So he could only watch in agonized silence as you scooped up your bags and moved towards the bedroom door with one last apologetic look over your shoulder.

When you finally slipped out of sight down the hallway, Soshiro's knees nearly buckled. He collapsed back onto the bed, chest heaving, and scrubbed his palms over his face roughly. The scent of your arousal still clung to his skin like a cruel torment, cock throbbing almost painfully where it remained trapped in his pants.

"Fuck!" he growled, fisting his hands in the disheveled sheets as desperate arousal crashed over him in searing waves.

Soshiro's other hand drifted down to frantically work at freeing his leaking cock, desperate for some meager shred of relief from the exquisite ache. His eyes slid shut as he pictured it was your delicate fingers wrapping around his girth instead, mouth going dry.

How many nights had he lain awake consumed by memories of you taking him to the root, inch by slick inch between those plush lips? Or the heat of your silken walls fluttering around him as he bottomed out inside you over and over again?

The first few strokes were hardly enough to staunch the overwhelming tide. Soshiro growled in fresh frustration, pumping his fist up and down his throbbing erection with increasing urgency. But without the blissful completion of actually burying himself to the hilt inside your lush body, it was all just a futile exercise in delaying his torment a while longer.

Suddenly, an idea sparked molten urgency in Soshiro's gut. You had said less than thirty minutes, right? Which meant if he moved quickly and caught you before the transport took off...

Soshiro scrambled up from the bed, tucking himself back into his rumpled sweats hastily. If he hurried, he might still make it to the loading docks in time. One final, searing reunion branded into both your memories before a drought of indeterminate length had to endure.

Soshiro was out the door hardly ten seconds later, practically sprinting down the corridor as he rapidly formulated his impromptu strategy. He knew you'd try to turn him away at first out of duty, but between breathless pleas and that molten smolder he could pin you with...

Well, Soshiro thought with a wolfish grin as the loading ramp came into view, there was no way in hell you'd refuse letting your man indulge in one last soul-searing joining before your separation. Not when he planned to take you apart with such feverish, rapturous worship that you'd simply have no choice but to surrender entirely over to bliss until your imminent departure.

Soshiro spotted you immediately, checking over your field gear amidst the milling soldiers prepping the transport for launch. His hooded gaze raked over the lines of your combat suit hungrily, cock giving a traitorous throb at the memories of peeling you out of that second skin far too many nights ago.

He licked his lips unconsciously, then began prowling forward with unhurried purpose - gait rolling with that innate leonine grace that never failed to raise goosebumps along your arms when he moved with such predatory intent. Soshiro waited until your back was turned before closing the final distance in a few powerful strides.

Without preamble, he banded one thick forearm across the soft planes of your abdomen and wrenched you backwards into the solid wall of his chest. You made a startled noise that barely had time to escape before his mouth sealed over yours in a searing, velvet brand of possession and liquid heat.

Soshiro relished in your instantaneous surrender - the way your lips parted readily for the insistent glide of his tongue and hands fisted in his rumpled shirt with bone-deep yearning. He angled his hips with practiced rolls, pinning you flush against the rigid throb of his cock as a low, thrumming growl echoed between your joined forms.

"I couldn't let you go that easy, babygirl," he rasped against the fevered hollow beneath your jaw, worrying the sensitive flesh with scraping teeth. "Not without giving that beautiful body of yours one more reminder of what it has to look forward to as soon as you come back..."

You whimpered out a breathless sound of pure need, already arching wantonly into his roaming palms as they roved over the taut feminine lines beneath that unforgiving combat suit. Soshiro groaned in approval, tongue chasing the erratic flutter of your pulse before he sealed his mouth back over yours in a lush, demanding glide sure to leave you addled and aching for countless nights to come.

With zero compunction for your imminent departure timeline, he deftly maneuvered you both into the nearest unoccupied utility closet - far too consumed by the intoxicating ambrosia of your rapturous surrender to let any further distractions intervene. Soshiro kicked the door shut behind you with one booted foot and pressed your back flush against the metal surface.

"Gonna fuck you right here, gorgeous," he snarled raggedly, yanking down the zipper of your combat suit with shaking hands. "Gonna fill you up so deep, leave you dripping with my cum while you're out there..."

"Soshiro," you gasped out, clinging to his shoulders as he rucked the fabric of your combat suit down around your hips. "We have to - ngh - to hurry..."

Your words cut off in a keening moan as he hoisted you bodily up onto a nearby storage rack, shoving the bunched fabric of your suit aside to expose your drenched panties. Soshiro licked his lips, pupils blown wide and fixed with laser focus as he tugged the soaked cotton aside and bared your glistening sex to his hungry gaze.

"Oh, I plan to, babygirl," he rasped. "So don't you worry - we'll be quick and dirty, just like old times."

With no further warning, Soshiro buried his cock to the hilt in a single, brutal thrust. Your answering cry was equal parts pained and delirious as he pinned you flat against the wall with the force, hilting himself over and over again in a frenzy of need and wanton greed.

You writhed against him, nails clawing at his back and teeth scoring the thick column of his throat as the rack juddered against the wall with each frantic snap of his hips. Soshiro's own hands were busy groping every lush curve within reach, teeth and tongue marking every exposed patch of skin he could reach while his cock plunged ever deeper inside your tight cunt.

"F-fuck, missed you," he ground out raggedly, fingers digging bruises into the plush swell of your hips as he hauled you against his body in time with each urgent thrust. "Missed this - ah, fuck - s-so goddamn perfect."

The air was a cacophony of panting gasps, breathy whimpers, and the obscene squelch of your bodies colliding in the scant space between. Each brutal impact sent fresh sparks of electricity crackling through your core, drawing your legs tighter around his hips and dragging his mouth back to yours in a sloppy, messy clash.

You both knew you didn't have long. Soshiro's pace turned ever more feverish, the air between your joined forms so hot and heavy it was like drowning in liquid fire. The friction of his rigid cock pistoning inside your fluttering cunt, the bite of his fingers on your hips, the slick glide of your tongues tangling - it was all too much and not nearly enough.

You tore your mouth away to gulp down a breath, eyes screwed shut and teeth clenched as your release built with white-hot intensity. Soshiro took the opportunity to suck a dark, blooming bruise onto the tempting curve of your neck, sharp canines digging in with just enough sting to tip you over the edge.

Your inner walls clamped down with near painful force as orgasm hit like a shockwave. You shuddered violently against him, nails scoring angry red furrows into his biceps as you squirted wetly around his plunging cock. Soshiro let out a garbled moan at the sensation, head thrown back and neck corded with tension.

He fucked you through it, pace growing more and more erratic as your trembling cunt rippled and pulsed around him in a mind-numbing blur of pleasure. You felt his cock jerk and spasm inside you as he bottomed out one last time with a hoarse cry, hot ropes of cum filling you so deep your thighs quaked from the sheer intensity.

Soshiro's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, forehead pressed to yours and palms cradling your face reverently. You were both a sticky mess, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he wanted was to bask in the warmth of your embrace a while longer, basking in the afterglow and chasing the lingering tingles still sparking up and down his spine.

It was only the urgent blare of an overhead siren that forced him to let you slip from his arms, reluctantly pulling out and setting you gingerly back onto the floor. You swayed slightly, still woozy and unsteady, and Soshiro grinned crookedly.

"Sorry about that, babygirl," he husked, tucking his softening cock back into his sweats. "Got a little carried away there for a minute."

He reached over to gather the leaking cum seeping down the inside of your thighs, scooping it back inside and working his fingers in deep. You made a helpless sound in the back of your throat as he curled them upwards and rubbed mercilessly against that spongy spot on your front wall, sending a fresh shockwave of pleasure through your sensitive body.

Soshiro withdrew his fingers with a smug smirk and tugged your panties back into place. He watched the way the fabric clung to the slick, puffy lips of your pussy, cock twitching traitorously as the urge to simply rip them away and go for round two reared its head once more.

Instead, Soshiro helped you wriggle back into the bunched fabric of your combat suit. He silently zipped you back up, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your brow. "You better come back to me safe and sound," he murmured gruffly. "Or I'll come get you myself."

You hummed in agreement, tilting your head up for a final, searing kiss. Soshiro held you close as he savored the plush glide of your mouths sliding together, his tongue coaxing your lips apart and stroking yours with a reverent, tender languidness.

Too soon, the overhead sirens blared louder and louder, and you were forced to reluctantly pull apart. Soshiro's eyes were bright with longing, but his smile was reassuring. "I love you, sweetheart," he murmured, brushing a thumb across the apple of your cheek.

You returned his tender smile and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Love you too," you murmured back, giving his hand a parting squeeze before slipping out the door.

Soshiro watched as you disappeared down the hallway, heart hammering a furious rhythm against his ribcage. Two weeks, maybe three at the most. That's how long he'd have to hold out before the two of you were reunited.

Soshiro licked his lips, recalling the way you tasted - how you felt wrapped so tight around him, and his cock gave another traitorous throb.

Yeah, he was definitely in for a long haul...

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: GETO (PT. II)

A/N: I…guys this one is…dirty. For so many reasons. I don’t. I can’t look myself in the eye. Suguru made me do it 😅

C/W: Voyeurism, Mature themes, 18+ (Part I here)

Music inspo: This is SO Chase Atlantic coded

Acceptance.

They say the first step to recovery from addiction is acceptance.

Fine, then.

Suguru Geto’s addiction to you is absolute. And he has no interest in recovery.

He’s accepted it. You own him.

Granted, he didn’t realize just how tight your leash is. Not until last night.

Suguru is a logical, reasonable, creature of habit. He doesn’t need much. Really, he doesn’t.

But fucking you to sleep nightly is non-negotiable.

Or rather, fucking his hand. While watching you watch TV. And swirl a glass of Pinot noir in your gorgeous mouth. With your graceful fingers mindlessly swimming in a bowl of popcorn.

Extra butter. With tons and TONS of salt!

The first time you ordered your side snack at the movie theatre, Suguru almost keeled over.

But then he made the glorious mistake of flickering over to you, mid movie. Just as your index finger slid between those pillow soft lips. Pulling remnants of salt and butter away, leaving a trail of lip gloss behind.

He could’ve sucked it off your finger right there and then.

The way you pistoned in and out of your mouth. Doe-eyed and trained on the screen. Not a thought in your head. It was his gateway drug.

The butterfly effect.

A moment in time that rerouted fate.

His excruciatingly beautiful, platonic best friend, now a visceral need.

And just like any addiction. There were stages.

Denial: He doesn’t see you that way. No, of course not. His mind just got caught in a horny spiral. He’ll snap out of it. Things will go back to normal.

Anger: How could you do this to him? You know how disorienting you are. That smile. Always looking up at him with puppy eyes and parted lips. You’re a cocktease. Begging. Pleading. Needing him to debase you to nothing. Is that it? You want him to ruin you, don’t you? And he could. Fuck you into next week. Until you’re screaming and crying. He’d smear those tears all over his cock and fuck them back into your pouty mouth. It’s what you deserve.

Shame: It’s perverse. You call to vent about your day. He rubs himself raw while you talk. You kiss his cheek. His dick leaks. How could he do this to someone who trusts him like you do?

It was a vicious, muddled cycle. He could barely function around you.

Rushed greetings. Kurt words. Clipped responses. Avoidance.

He had to protect you from his depraved thoughts. Shield you from sordid actions taken in the dark — as if they would spontaneously materialize in the light to harm you.

And they did. But in the opposite way Suguru intended.

“Hey, HEY! Suguru, what the hell is up with you?”

You squeezed his wrist with all your might. It felt like nothing. But the weight in your tone hit him like a freight train.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been distant."

“I’ve been right here.”

“You’ve been distant, Suguru.”

Quartz showers streamed down your beautiful face and his cock quivered. Drooling along his thigh. So. Fucking. Pretty when you cry.

Did you know?

How irresistible you looked?

Glassy eyes. Trembling lips. Vulnerable. Soft enough to hunt.

Did you know?

How he clawed his palm bloody to keep from gripping your neck. Shoving you to your knees. And giving you a reason to whine his name like that again.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?”

“I have to go—“

“I don’t care!”

“Wha—“

“I don’t care!! I don’t care what it is okay? I just…I miss..I miss my best friend.”

You elevated off your heels. No where near eye level, but enough to cradle his face in your dainty hands.

And God dammit. He might as well have been wearing a dog tag with your name on it.

If lost, return to Owner.

Between your misty eyes. Swollen lips. Face like a canvas to paint with his cum. He bit back a pathetic groan. And choked out an apology.

Most importantly, he made a promise to never hollow out your friendship like that again.

So, instead he fills it. With ropes of his arousal. And fuck, it’s rhapsody.

The stages. The anger, disbelief, shame…it was worth it. Because this ecstasy? It’s sublime.

Constant ascension. Never once reaching cruising altitude.

…which made the fall agonizing.

Last night, in a sick, twisted turn of fate - his camera feed cut off.

One minute Suguru is pumping into his abused rubber cocksleeve. Sliding his eyes up and down your hips until he was dizzy in the head. Pre cum squelching out of the little space between his cock and the ring of his 5th battered toy. Unintelligible praises leaking out of him, cementing his devotion. And just as the curtains began to fall on his vision. Balls heavy and hot with his seed—

Then he saw nothing.

Suguru couldn’t recognize the man in his room last night. Fingers aching. Mind racing. Dick red, angry, pulsating for its one and only vice.

Alarm bells rang between his ears. Crash landing into an abyss. Mayday.

Mayday.

In that moment. He knew he needed more. More skin. More angles. More you.

And so, he’s standing outside your Pilates studio @ 7:28 PM. Two minutes until you’re done.

A Dragonfruit smoothie rests in his hand.

And a new camera system rests in his back pocket.

———

“Ugh, I needed that.”

You sling a cold eucalyptus towel around your neck.

“And I need him.” The comment emanates from one of your girlfriends. Both of you rounding the corner out of the studio.

Suguru.

You don’t have to look out the glass windows to know exactly who she is referring to.

“I mean, seriously. How can you not climb him like a—“

“Stop it!!” Your protest made less believable because of your sheepish giggles.

“We’re just friends.” You mutter. Pulling your gym bag out of the front lockers.

Yeah, who are you trying to convince? Her? Or yourself?

Your eyes flicker to your platonic, gorgeous best friend. Raven mane in a glossy, high ponytail. Freely cascading down his back. Curly wisps framing his razor sharp angles.

He stands tall. So Muscular. Quietly masculine. Despite how dreamy his hair is.

“Omg! Your hair!! Whats your routine?” - every woman who meets him, ever.

“Genetics.”

Suguru responds the same way every time with a dimpled smile. The other party is always immediately caught in his web.

His eyes. They lure you in like quicksand. Onyx. Swarming with grey and violet specks. Stormy. Perpetually faraway.

He’s the perfect gentleman. But always a little bit above it all. Just out of reach.

It’s mesmerizing.

You can’t blame the women for trying any and everything for a tiny piece.

Suguru catches your gaze. Silky smile pulls across his lips. He beckons you with one swirl of the liquid gold in his hands.

“What are you doing here, pretty boy?”

“Happy to see you too.” He counters with a low chuckle.

You coax the sweet treat away from him. It’s precisely what you need.

Suguru always has his pulse on you. Somehow he knows where to be and when. Every time.

“Mmm” your eyes flutter shut. Savoring the sickly sweet, cold mush on your tongue.

“Exactly what you wanted?”

“Exactly. Have I told you I love you lately?”

“Not nearly enough.” His baritone hovers over you. Traveling down your spine at light speed.

Has he always sounded this sultry?

You lazily pull yourself out of the sugar-induced dopamine hit.

Suguru moves into you like a storm cloud. Accentuating the comical difference in stature. The world around you slowly dissipates.

Lost in the desert mirage of his gaze. Everything feels conscious.

Your shallow breathing. The thrum of blood surging through your vessels. Heart rattling against its bony cage.

Time stops.

Then it happens all at once.

Before you know what is happening, your best friend’s well built arm is around your waist. His large, veiny hand palming the nape of your neck.

His lips. His plump rosy lips are on yours. Sweet and warm. Pulling, pushing, melding with you into play dough.

He’s delicious.

More delectable than you knew possible.

“Mmmgh” You moan and Suguru takes the space to push his tongue into your mouth. He’s blinding. Expertly tickling the ridges and corners of your mouth. As if to show off just how skilled he is with his tongue.

“S-Suguru..”

He pulls away far before you’re ready. Shocking you out of your lusty daze. For a moment he just rests his moist lips on yours. Exchanging breaths between each other. As if only you two are the source of oxygen around you.

“Wha…what was..”

“There’s a guy burning a crater into your back.” He finally responds. Gruff. Strained. You’ve never seen him without a tight leash around his self-command.

“I didn’t want him thinking he has a chance.”

And just like that, the familiar tame control lines his velvet baritone.

Suguru places a chaste kiss on your cheek before starting to walk in the direction of your apartment. As if the world didn’t just tilt on its axis.

You’re able to maintain a fairly normal conversation with your best friend the entire walk back to your apartment. You both laugh and joke as if he didn’t just fuck your mouth with his tongue. And as if you didn’t feel drunk off of it.

You’re just friends.

…right?

You toss your keys somewhere to your left. In the periphery you see Suguru smile and shake his head. Well aware of your messy tendencies. He leans down to take your keys and place them on the door hook.

The devil on your shoulder is deafening.

Test it.

Test him.

Your hand moves before your mind.

Your fingers hook under your sports bra. Pulling it over your head in one smooth motion. Before your mounds bounce in full view, your arm cups them against your chest.

You turn to Suguru, now topless.

“Gonna hop in the shower for a little. Are you staying for dinner?” Willing your voice to be steady and light. A casual question amidst the mayhem in your mind.

And, as expected, Suguru is the perfect gentleman.

His olive tone is even. Hands slotting into his athletic pants. Faint smile tracing on his lips, dimple apparent in his left cheek.

His eyes don’t falter below your neckline. Not even for a moment.

“Not tonight, pretty. There’s a show I want to catch. Rain check?”

Of course, you’re just friends.

Best friends.

You flash him a genuine smile. Swallowing the nagging flecks of dissappointnent beginning to weave itself within you.

“Rain check!”

And maybe 10 or so minutes after soaking in your steamy shower. Trying to wash the remnants of his kiss out of your memory, you hear your door slamming shut.

You make a mental note to ask about what show he was referring to.

———

Whiskey glides hot and cold down Suguru’s throat.

Back flushed against his desk chair.

Patiently awaiting his 10:00 PM viewing.

His dick is a steel rod. Blushing and moist. Draped in a pair of your used panties. He swiped them on his way out of your apartment.

Suguru drags his palm lazily up and down his shaft. Soaking your lingerie in beads of pre cum. It’s like he’s feeling you rubbing your plush cunt up and down his rod.

Fog is settling opaque in his mind. While he pets the flame stirring between his legs.

You haven’t even come into frame yet. But Suguru admires the pristine view he has of your room. Porcelain duvet messily strewn about. Half open night stand. Magenta vibrator propped against the corner of your drawer.

How often do you touch yourself?

What do you think about?

How pretty do you sound? When you milk pleasure from your dewy core?

“Fuck,” Suguru hisses.

He brings the whiskey glass back to his parted lips. The thought of seeing you work yourself to a peak drove his hand up and down his cock too fast. If he’s not careful he’ll cum before he’s ready.

No.

Not tonight.

Tonight he wants to savor his relapse.

24 hours sober of you was unbearable. He deserves this indulgence.

Suguru tilts his chin up. Damp hair feathering his shoulders and back feels refreshingly cool against the lava circulating beneath his skin.

“You like teasing me don’t you?” He murmurs, slowly pumping his cock through his strained grip.

The way you pulled off your sports bra. Well before you reached your bathroom door. Pretty bedroom eyes raking his face. Testing him. You knew he would go home and feverishly fuck his fist for you. Didn’t you?

A siren’s melody pulls his hazy, dazed attention back to screen.

“There she is.”

Suguru leans closer to his screens. Giving himself kudos for choosing a camera system with audiovisual integration this time around.

You step in full view of his camera and his body stills. Completely statuesque. Mouth ajar. His cock drool dribbling down his stiff hand is the only source of movement in the room.

“Fuck…fucking hell.”

There you stood. Thong as richly colored as the wine in your glass. Accentuating the dramatic dip and swell of your pretty waist and hips. The wavy lines from your slender shoulders to your full tits are enough to make him seasick. Your nipples are so hard. Puffier than he imagined.

You are immaculate.

A divine being. Heaven’s incarnate.

And even if you weren’t. Even if you were the devil. He’d follow you to the depth of hell.

A thick surge of pre cum flicking back against his lower abs pulls him briefly out of his trance. Suguru didn’t realize how hard he was strangling his length. Which is violently jerking in haphazard directions.

Begging for its real owner.

Suguru drags in a deep breath. Reluctantly unraveling his needy hand away from his manhood. Another sip of icy brown liquor.

Savor this.

As if your souls are tied, you take a sip of red wine before settling in your bed. Back against your head board. Feet planted on your plush duvet. You let your knees fall to the side and Suguru nearly drools on himself.

A blooming rose.

Presenting your swollen, misty petals to him for worship. His eyes drop to your core. A thin line of fabric laid so perfectly between your folds.

Suguru has to remind himself that you aren’t in front of him.

And he can’t just dive into your dewy cunt. And nuzzle against your bud. And lap up the honey in between your folds.

You rest your head against the wall. Exposing the delicate lines of your neck. His left hand magnets back to his cock. His right hits the record function on the screen.

You are too special not to capture.

But, even if he couldn’t record you on this system, every moment right now is etched into his mind for an eternity.

Especially the way your dainty fingers travel down your chest, along your torso, beneath the hem of your panties and settle over your clit.

“That’s it, princess.” Suguru chants beneath his clipped breaths. Dragging your soaked underwear along his messy shaft.

He matches his pace to your tiny circles. Small, gorgeous pants tumble out of you.

Your other hand palms at your tits. Pinching and pulling at your pert nipples. Your hips buck at the sweet pleasure and pain.

“Good girl”

His arousal continues to collect at his base, trickling to his inner thighs. The sound of his hilt slamming into his hand fill the room.

“God. S..Suguru…”

His name thunders between his ears.

His name wrapped in that melodic, lusty falsetto of yours.

Suguru’s brain can barely register the way your tits bounce in rhythm with your hands. Pistoning your fingers in and out of your sweet cunt. Ascending to euphoria. He can barely register the way your lips are swollen and abused from your teeth. Or the light sheen of sweat along your collarbones.

“Fuck, Suguru please..” you moan. Both hands now working your flower.

Suguru is slack jawed. Completely short circuited. He cannot move.

Unblinking, he studies you. Hands at his side. Cock spearing high in the air, leaking.

His mind is flooded with the thin, featherlight moans and whines. Sticky arousal leaks from your needy opening around your fingers. Coating your inner thighs. How you twist and groan away from your own pleasure - so clearly overstimulated but not stopping your fingers, anyway.

“Say my name, pretty girl. Say my name.” Suguru rasps out. Sharp pain lightening through him from the dryness in his throat.

And you do. You moan his name when you reach nirvana. Heaving and whining and squirming in your mess. You called for him.

“God, I’m disgusting.”

You laugh through the remnants of your high and bury yourself under the duvet. Lazily tapping the bedside lamp. Bringing Suguru’s private viewing to an end.

And his smile is vulturous.

Suguru’s hand runs the length of his insatiable cock. Slow, lazy strokes. Haphazard twitches pushing out globs of cum. Begging for an encore.

You think you’re disgusting?

Ohhh, sweet girl.

You don’t know the half of it.

[gejo333]

Art credit:@clementinekim_(Instagram)

An Unexpected Match XIII

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

18+ Warning

Summary: Two week honeymoon with your hubby Miguel🥰

I’m sorry this took so long.😅💕💕💕

Pt. 1 Pt.15

Enjoy!💕

Wc: 5k

————————————————————————

The smell of salt, the sound of the Aegean Sea, and the sun's warmth relaxed your entire body. You happily lay on a sun bed in your bikini at your private pool as you read a romance novel Stephanie has been dying for you to read for months. And you were glad to have finally picked up the book because she was right. It was really good.

However, as you flip the page, your relaxed state dissolves as you feel heat grow between your legs. Your eyes peer right over your book as you look at your husband, who is in the jacuzzi resting. His eyes were closed as his arms lay on each side, showing off his perfectly toned biceps. You said you would join him after you read a chapter or two of your book. But after reading that spicy scene and glancing at your husband, you couldn't resist.

For the past four days since you arrived at this 5-star resort in Greece, you and Miguel hadn't left your private cabana. You couldn't keep your hands off each other. You were only pausing briefly to have some sleep or to eat. This was the first time you two had decided to take a relaxing break from being entangled with each other and take in the beautiful view around you. But of course,  it's barely been an hour, and you want him to touch and kiss you.

You couldn't sit still anymore as you got up and walked to the jacuzzi. Your foot dipped into the water, sending a warm chill up your spine. The water wrapped around your body as you descended the steps before fully submerging until the water was under your collarbone.

You swim over to Miguel and sit right next to him, tucked under his right arm. Your head rests on his chest as you gaze at the beautiful ocean-front view. His arm behind you comes down and wraps around your waist, and his hand gently caresses your upper thigh.

"Missed me too much, cariño?" He kissed your head. You rolled your eyes as you didn't have to even look at him to see the smirk on his lips.

You kiss the corner of his mouth, "Mhmm, maybe just a little bit." Your lips move down his face to his neck, finding his sweet spot before straddling his lap. His hands find their way to your waist as he pulls you against him.

His fingers glide up your side to your neck as he lifts your chin. Your lips meet his as you open your mouth to let his tongue wander.

Your hips move against his crotch, making his grip on your waist tighten as he grinds his clothed erection, making you moan against his lips. Your arms feel up his toned tan abs as they go around his neck, and your fingers comb through his dark curls. Miguel's hands grab your ass as he stands up in the jacuzzi, making his way out and back inside your luxury cabana.

Your body hits the soft duvet as Miguel's lips move down your neck, "So beautiful and all mine. Isn't that right, cariño?" His voice rumbled against your skin as his lips continued to your chest, moving your bathing suit as his mouth latched to your nipple, making your grip on his hair stronger as the sensation of his mouth went straight down south to your core.

"Y-yes." You breathed out.

While his mouth and hand worked on your breasts, you felt his other hand feel its way down your stomach to your bottoms as he pulled the bows on one side, which was keeping them from falling off, now thrown across the room, leaving you fully exposed.

You arch your back as you feel his thumb rubbing your clit as he enters, not one but two fingers thrust inside you. Your grip tightens in his curls as you feel his teeth bite your nipple, sending a whirlwind of pleasure through your body. Miguel's lips kissed from the top of your breast to the collarbone and the crook of your neck, leaving marks.

"M-Miguel, please don't give me hickeys. You know I don't like them." Your husband's lips nipped your ear before he smirked at you, kissing your lips.

"No promises cariño." He purred in your ear, which made you send him a glare as you tried to hide your smile, which only made him chuckle as he removed his fingers from you, grabbed your hips, and inserted himself fully inside you, letting a gasp escape you, taking you by surprise.

Miguel grabs your waist as he lifts you onto his lap, making you moan out loud as his cock enters deeper inside you as he bounces you up and down his shaft.

You wrap your arms around his neck as you claw his upper back every time his tip hits your cervix, making you dig your nails deeper, which further ignites his desire to keep fucking you harder, ending up in an erotic cycle you both didn't mind being in.

...

The bed was soaked in sweat, and both of your pleasure as your head hung back, feeling overstimulated. Miguel sucked on your now bruised neck as he continued to thrust up into you. If it weren't for Miguel holding you in place, you would have collapsed to the bed as he fucks you stupid.

You let out a raspy moan, feeling the high from God's know which orgasm you lost count a while ago. Your throat was tired from the amount of screaming you'd done the past couple of hours.

"Last one, mi amor. I promise." Miguel kissed your sweaty temple. Your last orgasm unraveled by him as he spilled deep inside you. He collapsed his back down on the bed with you falling and resting on top of his chest with him still inside you.

"You think you got me pregnant yet?" You chuckled as you looked at him with a loving smile before getting off him. You were too sore to move to the bathroom to clean up, so you decided to wait till tomorrow.

You pushed back the sheets and duvet as you rested your head on your pillow. Miguel sat up from his position and let out a deep chuckle at your comment. He moved towards you and said, "Well, with how many times we have done it these past few days, I wouldn't be surprised, but..."

"But?" Your smile widens as he hovers over you.

"But maybe we should try again just to make sure," Miguel smirked as he took your chin and kissed you before covering you both with the sheets.

...

You lather your arm in soap and gently wash yourself in the tub. After taking a shower to properly clean up all the sweat and other liquids covering you, you took a relaxing bath to soothe your sore body as Miguel was surprisingly still asleep. You smiled; your husband needed the rest. Not just with the amount of fucking you both have been doing or from the slight jet lag, but he works so hard every day as an incredible CEO and a loving father and now husband. So you didn't mind him getting the extra rest.

When the water in the tub grew cold, you got out and wrapped a towel around your body as you looked into the vanity mirror. You huffed out a breath of annoyance as you noticed the trail of hickeys all over your neck and chest. You noticed the trail continued down your body when you slightly moved your towel.

"That man is going to get it for marking me up."

"What am I going to get?" Miguel chuckled as he walked into the master bath only in his boxers. You turned around to face him as he stood right before you. You purse your lips into a pout as you point to the hickies on your neck. Your frown deepens as you only see a smirk on his face, proud of his work.

"Smug bastard." You mumble as you turn around again to face the mirror and figure out how to cover these marks. Miguel's hands were at your hips in an instant as he pressed his crotch against your backside.

"Well, this bastard wants to have a taste of his wife." Miguel kissed up your neck, sending a shiver up your spine.

"I don't think you deserve a taste of me." You cross your arms as you move your face so that his lips miss yours, which sends a curious eyebrow arch and light glare your way from your husband.

"Well, cariño, if my tongue can't have you, then I know something else that can." Miguel lifted your towel and spread your legs as you let a breathy moan as you felt him enter his cock inside your wet folds from behind.

"Miguel." You growled out in warning. "I was hoping we go out...go out...and explore."

Miguel breathed in your hair as he turned your chin to face him. His lips met yours as he began thrusting himself inside you, making you lean over the bathroom counter.

"Of course we can, mi amor. But let's finish this round, and we'll get ready."

You huff in annoyance, knowing this wouldn't be the only session, especially since he just woke up. Of course, you're not complaining about the surge of pleasure coursing through your entire body, but he's going to regret marking up your neck.

Damn, maybe you shouldn't have let him sleep in. The amount of vigor he sends through each thrust hurts slightly as his tip consistently slams against your cervix. But it only added to the overall pleasure. One of his hands went to your lower abdomen as he pressed his palm against you, feeling himself move inside you and making him rougher with his movements.

The doorbell rang, followed by a woman calling behind the main door, "Housekeeping!"

"Puta madre," Miguel growled as he picked up his pace to see to your climax. After hearing your sweet moans come out seconds later, he pulled out and put himself back in his boxers, ready to confront the people at the door. (Son of a Bitch)

Despite your legs feeling like jelly from only one round, you stood up and placed your hand on his chest, stopping his movements. "I think I should go answer the door." You smile as you go on your toes and peck his lips before you leave and grab your robe to cover yourself.

The doorbell goes off again. You quickly get to the door before the housekeeper opens it.

"Hi, sorry for the wait." You brushed your hair behind one of your ears, a nervous habit.

Standing before you was an older woman and a woman near your age. The older woman's eyes widen as she notices the hickey on your neck. You move your hair to cover them as a blush falls on your cheeks.

"Good morning, Mrs. O'Hara. We hope you and Mr. O'Hara have been enjoying your time here. Would you like us to clean the house?" The older woman spoke with a warm smile.

"That would be amazing. We were planning on heading out in 30 minutes. Is it ok to come back around then?"

"Of course, Mrs. O'Hara. Is there anything else you need?" The other woman spoke.

"No, nothing else. Thank you. Have a nice day."

"Thank you. You too."

You smile before closing the door and return to where Miguel sat on the bed, getting rid of his morning wood. You made your way to him as you got on your knees.

You gave him a few strokes from your hand that couldn't even fully wrap around his massive shaft. You dragged your tongue up his member before kissing his leaking tip, your gaze not leaving him once. You open your mouth for him to slide onto your tongue and down your throat.

"Fuck, I love you and that pretty mouth of yours." Miguel moaned out as his hand reached the back of your head. His fingers intertwined into your hair as he gently thrusts into your throat. You hum in approval against his cock, earning another groan from Miguel's lips.

Miguel gently thrusts more of himself into your mouth; being used to his size in your throat, you were able to stop from gagging as you continued to move your tongue along his cock. You make sure your tongue grazes over the vein on the underside of his member, sending a large amount of pleasure through him.

Miguel groaned in pleasure as he gently thrust a few more times before spilling into your throat. You happily swallow every drop before removing him from your mouth. You lick anything remaining on your lips as you stand up and kiss his cheek.

After getting ready, you walk out of the cabana hand in hand. You smile up at him as he looks down at you lovingly, stopping briefly to kiss your lips sweetly. You caress his cheek as you look into his red-brown eyes. His hand is placed on top of yours, showing his wedding band.

"I love you." You breathe out.

"I love you more, mi diosa." (my goddess.) He kisses you again before you go to the resort's main building.

You sat on the lounge sofa as you looked at the scattered hotel experience brochures on the table.

"Mi amor."  You looked up to see a fork with a piece of your favorite fruit in your face. You were so excited looking at all the excursions and activities you forgot to eat. You smile lovingly before you open your mouth for him to feed it to you.

"Thank you, Miggy."

"Have to look out for you sometimes." He smiles happily down at you as he kisses your cheek. You lean against his chest as you open one of the brochures to show him.

"This one is a catamaran that takes you to these gorgeous caves that boats can go through, or we can jump in and swim. Ooo, snorkeling on a reef sounds fun, too! I wonder which one we should choose..."

Miguel lifted your hand, kissed your wedding ring, and then entangled his fingers with yours. "If you can't decide, let's do both. We're here to enjoy our time together. When we get back, we won't have that much relaxing time since your internship will be starting a month from then. We have an endless amount of funds; let's use it to enjoy ourselves to the fullest."

After an enjoyable breakfast by the crystal turquoise waters and booking all the fun excursions with the concierge, you  find the perfect place at the beach to relax under the sun.

You take your sundress off wearing a brand-new white bathing suit. You couldn't help but be a little cheesy. You were on your honeymoon, after all.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt a toned chest against your backside as lips lightly kissed your neck, making you giggle.

"Miggy, you're tickling my neck."

"If I can hear your beautiful laugh, I might just continue."

You turn your head to kiss his lips. You felt his tongue slip through your lips, surprising you as you gently slap his chest, parting your lips from his.

"Miguel, cálmate." You smile as you give him a playful glare, and he smirks. (Calm down.)

"What can I say, Hermosa? I love you so much and can't help but show it."

You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck as you get on your toes and sweetly kiss his lips. "I love you so much, too."

"How about-" he kisses your lips. " I'll go get us-" he kisses the part between your neck and shoulder. "Some drinks."

"Thank you, honey. Love you."

Miguel kissed you on the lips, squeezing your ass and quickly moving away before you could hit him. He only winked at you with a goofy grin before returning to the bar.

"Fuck, she's hot."

"Hey there, cutie."

You were relaxing on the lounge chair, enjoying the sun, when a shadow appeared before you. Opening your eyes, a frown appeared on your lips as you saw two men around your age, or most likely seniors in college, standing in front of you.

"Um, can I help you? You're blocking the sun."

"We were walking on the beach and saw this smoking hot babe in a white bikini, and we thought we would shoot our shot and buy you a drink."

"I'm a married woman. Even if I weren't, I would still say no. So, have a nice day." You sarcastically wave them away. But, of course, these guys were the extra obnoxious douches.

"Oh, come on now. Just one drink. Plus, how do we know you're married? I don't see your husband any-"

"Mi amor, are these men bothering you?" Towering behind the two men was your pissed-off husband.

"Yes, they were."

The men's faces grew pale as they saw a large, well-built man give them a death glare.

"Uh, s-sorry, man. Our bad. We'll get going."

"I think that's wise. This is a private and very exclusive beach that I highly doubt you two are members of. Please don't make me catch you bothering my wife or anyone else again. Got it?"

"Y-yes."  The two men quickly walked away.

You stood up from your chair, hugged his waist, and kissed his cheek. "My hero."

Miguel smiled lovingly at you as he leaned down to kiss your lips. He sat on his chair, his beer in one hand and another arm around your waist. You sat between his legs, resting your back against his chest, stealing kisses from each other occasionally.

After lounging at the beach all day, you return to the luxury cabana you've been staying in.

When you finally returned, you immediately plopped onto the bed, closing your eyes.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you were startled when you felt arms lift you from the bed bridal style. You headed out to the outdoor terrace, facing the gorgeous view of the ocean. Your gaze landed on the table beautifully set up with food, wine, and candles, giving natural light.

"This is beautiful, Miguel. What's the occasion?" Miguel sat you in one of the chairs before sitting beside you.

"No occasion. I know you wanted to explore more today, but I just wanted to have dinner with the two of us."

You leave your seat and walk to his side of the table. Miguel happily moves his chair out so you can sit on his lap. "I don't mind if it's just you and me. Not one bit."

A giggle leaves your lips as Miguel kisses your neck and the top of your chest. You grabbed a fork, picked up a piece of food, and fed it to him.

"Is it delicious?"

"It is. But I've had more delicious things." Miguel took the fork from your hand and set it on the table. You scrunch your brows, wondering what could be better than a 6-star dish.

"And what could that be?" You chuckle.

Miguel kissed your neck up to your ear as he whispered, " You." Lifting your bridal style in his arms, he kissed your lips in a heated, loving manner as he led you inside towards the bedroom.

———-

After another long night of passionate lovemaking, you wake up to another lovely morning with an ocean view. You turn in bed to find it empty. Frowning slightly from the lack of extra warmth, you leave the bed and head to the walk-in closet. After putting on some panties, pajama shorts, and one of Miguel's T-shirts, you walk towards the living area. However, you find it empty. You then hear your husband's laughter echo outside from the deck.

You smile as you walk outside and see him on FaceTime with your daughter. Walking up to sit next to him on the sofa, he smiles lovingly at you and kisses your cheek, saying, "Good morning, mi amor."

"Mama!"

"Baby bug! I've missed you!!"

"I've missed you too, Mama! When are you and Papa coming home?"

"A little over a week until we come back home," Miguel answered, and Gabi's lips turned into a pout as tears began to form from the corner of her eyes.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. It's going to be ok. We'll be back in a flash." Tears threatened to spill from your own eyes as it broke your heart to see your daughter sad and missing you and Miguel.

"Gabi, remember what I told you?" Gabriel spoke up as he wiped her tears away.

She rubbed her eyes as she shyly shook her head.

"Mama and Papa have to go on a long journey because they need to talk to a magical waterfall to ask for a baby so you can have a brother and sister."

You tried so hard to keep a straight face. Out of all the ways to explain how children are made, he says this? You sighed, and a smile graced your lips. Gabi's pout turned into her adorable smile as she believed her uncle's story.

"Papa! Mama! Can I have a little sister, please!"

"Sadly we can't decide princesa. Only the magical waterfall can." Miguel told her, joining in on the story.

"Oh, ok."

"Baby bug, if you have a little brother or sister, I bet they would love to hang out and play with you no matter what." Your words kept a smile on her face.

"Alright, Gabi. We have to get you to your play date," Gabriel said, to your daughter's disappointment.

"But I want to talk to Mama and Papa more."

"It's ok, princesa. You can talk to us when you finish your play date."

"Promise."

"We promise. We love you, baby bug." You blow her a kiss, which she does back as she says she loves you both before hanging up the phone.

Miguel puts your legs on his lap before pulling you closer to him. He leans over and kisses you, which you happily reciprocate. The kiss leads to a heated make-out session, distracting you both until you hear an alarm from Miguelon 's phone, indicating it is time to head over to the dock for the catamaran.

After getting properly dressed, you head to the pick-up destination. The catamaran wasn't private, as none were available, so you and Miguel would be sharing it with three other couples.

When the boat arrives, you stare in awe at its beauty. Feeling Miguel's hand on your lower backside brings you back to reality as you walk on the catamaran.

You both found the perfect place to sit and relax in the sun together.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome! We will be arriving at the caves in 30 minutes. Please feel free to enjoy the open bar while you relax."

"Do you want me to get you a beer?" 

"That would be amazing, Hermosa. Thank you." Miguel pulled you close and quickly kissed your lips before you went to the bar to get the drinks.

As you were waiting for the drinks, your gaze lazily wandered. Suddenly, you noticed a man checking you out. He winked at you, but you scoffed and rolled your eyes. Luckily, his girlfriend saw it, and you smiled when you heard a smack. Thanking the bartender, you walked back to your husband with the drinks.

"Here you go, honey." You pass him his favorite beer.

"Thank you, mi amor." Miguel kissed your cheek before taking a sip of his beer.

"Oh! I want to get a photo of us before we enter the water."

Miguel smiled as he grabbed your waist and brought you to sit between his legs, letting your back rest against his chest. You raised the phone to take a photo, with Miguel stealing a kiss or two between photos, which made you giggle, urging him to stop the PDA. He whispered into your ear, " Then I'll just have to make up for the time showing you how much I love you back in the bedroom." This sent a nice chill up your spine.

"Hey! Would you like me to photograph the two of you?" A redheaded woman around your age with a warm smile approached the two of you.

"That you be amazing. Thank you." You hand her your phone. She happily takes a few photos, which turn out to be amazing. You need to put one in a frame.

"Thank you. Would you like me to take one for you?" You offered.

"That would be amazing. Let me get my fiancé." The woman leaves before returning with a man. Your eyes widen when the familiar, slightly older face awkwardly smiles back at you.

"This is Matt. My fiancé. I'm Chelsea, by the way."

Who would have thought that the guy Miguel stole you away at the bar that night years ago would be right in front of you?

"It's been a while, hasn't it." Matt chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"It has. About that night. Apologies for stealing her." Miguel chuckled as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him.

"No worries, man. All good. Plus, if I didn't leave when I did that morning after bumping into the both of you, I never would have bumped into the love of my life in the elevator." Matt brought Chelsea close and kissed her cheek.

"I could say the same thing about finding my true love." Miguel looked at you with a loving gaze. If he could, he would give you the entire universe.

"What brings you here?" You asked.

"Matt popped the question to me yesterday. So we decided to go on this catamaran to celebrate. What about you?" Chelsea asked.

"It's our honeymoon. We got married last week."

"Congratulations! Hope you've been having fun here."

"We have." Miguel looks at you, your cheeks tinted pink, as you notice the lustful cloud over his eyes.

You talked more with Chelsea as you waited for the boat to reach its destination. As soon as your skin became too warm under the sun, you sighed in relief when the captain announced your arrival.

When you were allowed to get into the water, you didn't hesitate. You went in, followed by Miguel. Since the water was very salty, it was easy to float. You swam up to Miguel, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his lips, and placing his hands on your hips as he brought you closer.

"Ready to explore?" You ask as your lips separate from his.

"You or the caves?" he chuckled. You lightly slapped his chest, trying to hide your smile but failing.

As you swim to one of the caves, the water becomes shallow enough for Miguel to stand. When you arrive at the cave, you pass through a sheet of water flowing over the entrance. You swim in first, followed by Miguel.

Your eyes widen at the cave's beauty, with the blue water and natural light coming into the cave, reflecting a beautiful blue on the walls. As you continued deeper into the cave, you could finally stand.

A breath shuttered out of your chest as you felt Miguel pressed up against you. His fingers brushed against your neck as you pushed your hair to the side as he kissed your neck. You smiled as you leaned into his touch.

"Miguel, we shouldn't. Someone might see." You giggle as his lips lightly tickle your neck.

"Cariño, there are multiple caves. And the couples who decided to go for a swim went to different caves, for what I'm assuming the same reason for what we're about to do."

"You'll say anything to get into my pants." You smiled as you turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Can you blame me?" He chuckled as he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he kissed your lips.

You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. His tongue is in your mouth as the make-out session grows more heated.

Miguel moved you towards a ledge. As he lies you down on the smooth rock surface, he brings you closer, head between your thighs. His hands go to the side of your thighs as he slides the bottoms of your bathing suit off.

Your slight, worried glance made him chuckle as he wrapped your bottoms around his wrist so they wouldn't get swept away by the water.

"You only have 30 minutes." You chuckle out a breath as he lifts your legs to his shoulders.

"I'll make sure to make it count."

You let a small moan escape from you as his teeth nip your inner thighs before placing his lips on your clit. Your fingers intertwine in his hair as his lips and tongue savored every part of you.

---

Your body was shaking after coming down from your fifth orgasm from your husband's mouth. A warm chill went up your spine as his tongue moved from your clit to your stomach, breasts, and neck, then captured your lips with his.

Another moan escaped from you as you felt him push himself inside you, still able to stretch you no matter how many times he's fucked you.

After having more fun in the cave, you enjoy the rest of your time on the catamaran, drinking and enjoying the ocean view.

It was now nighttime, and after taking a shower to wash off, you decided to cuddle in bed together and watch a show.

Resting your head against his chest, his arm wrapped around you, holding you close as your legs intertwined with his to keep your feet warm.

"I'm sad this honeymoon dream we're in will end in a week. But it also means the start of a new chapter in our lives, which I'm excited for."

Miguel looks at you with a loving smile as he brushes some of your hair behind your ear. "Every day with you is my dream. I love you, cariño."

"I love you more." You lean up and kiss him. He cups your cheek as his thumb grazes over it.

"I love you more than the universe and will for eternity."

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Two more to go!🥰

Tag List

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[ravenromanova]

Please be mine

Pairings: Roommate Bucky x Female reader (Best friends to lovers)

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18. Daddy kink, Size kink, Fingering, Sex in a tub, Breeding kink. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDERAGE!!!!!!!!!!

Summary: Bucky helps when youre stressed out

Kinktober masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!!

~

The cool autumn air hit your skin as you walked back to your apartment after finishing your last class of the day. You trudged along the way wishing that you brought a jacket today. Luckily the walk to your apartment wasnt that long so you weren’t in the cold all that long. When you made it back to your apartment your roommate and best friend Bucky was already home so you didn’t have to bother unlocking the front door.

“Hey sweets” Bucky greeted you when you walked through the door. His warm voice sent a shiver down your spine as he spoke.

“Hey Buck” Your voice was small and sounded very defeated when you spoke. Bucky stood up from his place on the couch and walked over to where you were in the kitchen. He stood in front of you and ran his hands up and down your arms in a soothing motion.

“What’s wrong sweets?” He asked causing you to bury your head in his chest and groaning. Bucky laughed a little and wrapped his strong arms around your back and started rubbing it.

“Mrs.Harkness gave us a ten page essay assignment thats due next week. So not only do i have to come up with a topic for that but i also have the paper to finish for Mr.Starks class, AND i have a test for Ms.Potts the same day the essay is due” Your words were muffled as you spoke but Bucky got the gist of it. He put his finger underneath your chin and tilted your head so you looked up at him.

“First you need to breathe before you go into a panic attack. Second i know you have a lot of work to do but you need to relax.” You were about to say something but then he put his finger against your lips. “No arguing printsessa“ He said in a little bit of a firmer tone and you didn’t have the energy to fight so you just nodded.

“Good girl now go sit on the couch and I’ll run you a bath” Bucky says walking you to the couch and then he kisses your head before he walks off to the bathroom. You sit on the couch trying not to blush and swoon from how sweet he’s being.

You and Bucky had met your junior year of high school and since then the two of you were inseparable. So naturally when you two both got accepted into NYU you asked him if he wanted to get an apartment with you. He accepted the offer telling you he’d love nothing more. And your friendship only grew stronger after that and you even started to fall for him. Your feelings grew for him each day and when he took care of you it just made then stronger.

What you didn’t know was that the reason he did all those things for you was because he was madly in love with you. Bucky loved to take care of you when you were stressed or sick. It made his heart feel all fuzzy when you would let him take care of you, the smile you would give him whenever he did melted his heart. Unfortunately you two were completely oblivious to how the other felt even though all your friends told you.

“Come on printsessa” You heard him call for you from the bathroom. You made your way to the bathroom and smiled at the setup. He lit your favorite candles, added your bath salts and bubbles, got your favorite book, snacks, hot chocolate and then laid your clothes on the counter for you when you were done.

“Thank you Jamie” The words were soft as they passed your lips making him smile. He walked up to you and wrapped you in his arms.

“You’re welcome sweets” His lips found their way to your forehead and your knees almost gave out. He kissed your head again before he started to walk out of the bathroom to give you your privacy.

You dont know what came over you but you grab his hand to stop him from leaving. He looked at you confused as you grabbed his hand and pulled him a little closer to you.

“Stay” You whispered looking up at his blue eyes. His confusion grew more as you spoke.

“What?” He asked and you wrapped your arms around his neck causing his breath to catch in his throat.

“i said stay” You repeated yourself and Bucky’s heart started racing.

“Y-You want me to stay in here while you take a bath?” He questioned making you laugh a little.

“I want you to take it with me” His eyes widened at your words and you swore he almost choked.

“I-I what?” Bucky’s voice was shaky as he spoke. It’s not that he hadn’t thought of it but he never expected you to take such a bold approach.

“You said i needed to relax…and i want to relax with you.” Your voice dropped an octave causing a shiver to run down his spine. Bucky nodded and slowly took off his shirt. You walked over to the sink with your back towards him before you slowly started taking off your clothes. He watched you undress and he swore he almost died right there. Never in a million years did he think he’d ever see you like this, naked and vulnerable. Once he undressed he walked up behind you and wrapped his hands around your bare waist.

His hands needed the soft skin making you groan in delight. He took your hands and lead you to the tub letting you get in first then he sat behind you. You laid back on his chest as his hands were around your waist again. It was in this moment the both of you knew you were no longer friends. His hands were under the water gripping and rubbing your skin with need. You rested your head on his chest and took one of his hands and moved it lower.

Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat when his fingers came into contact with your pussy. “Are you sure? Because if we do this there’s no going back. You’re mine” He said lowly against your ear causing you to shiver.

“I’m sure…I wanna be yours” You whispered looking up at him and he crashed his lips into yours taking his hands out of the water to cup your face. The kiss was everything you wished it would be with him, his lips were soft and he tasted like cherries.

Bucky turned you around and sat you over his lap so he could see your pretty face when he fucked you. His hands dipped back into the water and started to rub your pussy.

“So fucking tight” He praised sticking one of his thick fingers in you making you moan.

“Oh fuck” Your head starts to go fuzzy when Bucky curls his finger and hits your g-spot. He puts another one in making you grip onto his shoulders for dear life.

“So fucking perfect” His voice is gruff as he whispers in your ear before he starts kissing your neck. He takes his time leaving marks on your neck while fingering you with ease.

“I-I’m gonna cum-oh fuck-“ You feel your first orgasm rip through you when he hits that spot just right. Bucky smiles into your neck and continues to fuck your through your high.

“You did so good baby” Bucky praised you again giving you a sweet and gentle kiss. He then lifts you out of the tub not caring about the water all over the floor and brings you to his room. You giggle when he tosses you onto his bed and crawls to you so he’s on top.

“Are you sure you want this? We can still stop and pretend this never happened if thats what you want.” He asks rubbing his thumb over your cheek. Bucky didn’t want to stop but he also didn’t want you to do anything you’d regret and end up hating him.

“I’m sure you have no idea how bad i want this Bucky please fuck me” You beg clawing at his chest bringing him closer to you.

“Okay okay pretty girl” He chuckles moving down to your thighs. He kisses your soft skin with so much gentleness your heart melts. You buck your hips against him basically begging for him to be in you.

His strong hands grip your skin before he takes his cock in his hands giving it a few tugs. Once he’s hard he takes the tip and runs it through your dripping folds. Bucky slowly eases into you giving you a second to adjust to his size.

“S-So b-big daddy” You mewl feeling his cock hit your g-spot. He starts thrusting into you at a slow pace to ease you into it. You weren’t a virgin by any means but fuck Bucky was the biggest you’ve ever had. Your senses were filled to the brim with Bucky as he delightfully stretched you out.

“So fucking tight and warm” He praised picking up his pace. You gripped at his shoulders bringing him closer to you and bringing him in for a kiss. The two of you were fully intoxicated by each other in this salacious moment.

“Right there daddy oh fuck” You mewled throwing your head back and Bucky took advantage of your exposed neck. He sucked dark marks on your neck and smiled at his work.

“Take it baby take it like the good girl you are and let daddy fill you up” He grunted gripping your thighs with more force than before. You almost screamed at his words as they filled you will some need you didn’t know you had.

“P-Please fill me up daddy please breed me.” You begged making Bucky groan in satisfaction. He picked up his pace chasing his high.

“Such a good girl” He praised giving you another sweet kiss as you felt your orgasm building up. It didn’t take long for you both to finish with loud moans and heavy panting. Bucky filled you up with his load and fucked it into you making sure that none of it would drip out. Once he was satisfied that none would he slowly pulled out and laid next to you as you panted.

“I love you” He blurted out making you whip your heads towards him. He didn’t even realize what he said until you smiled at him and cuddled into him.

“I love you too” You said softly and he wrapped his arms around your waist and sigh happily. The two of you shared another sweet kiss before you two fell asleep in each other arms happy as ever.

~The end~

[pretzel-box]

woe, Reverse AU angst be upon ye (not necessarily a request, just a thought i had, but if anything strikes feel free to go ham :3 i also like to think about this with the og universe because i love feeling emotional pain 🧘🏾)

but instead of the reader having a classified file for themselves (& having it for sale), there are videotapes (or maybe different colored pendrives? CDs work too, i guess!!) scattered across the abandoned offices, and at first Sebastian isn't sure what to do with them, but then he meets p.ai.nter and they recognize those immediately, questioning why Sebastian is carrying that stuff with him in a concerned tone, and Sebastian just stares at the computer like, "??? okay, what's up with it?"

p.ai.nter is hesitant to show him what those hide at first, but eventually agrees to let him watch, then warns him that he is not going to like any second of it

Sebastian gets comfortable in front of the screen but is only greeted with an extremely heartbreaking scene– it's (now an experiment) reader visibly shaking as they stare in horror at their new body, unable to speak in any way while sobbing and whimpering, hugging themselves (or maybe their tail? guess it depends on the way readers want to look) and wondering what they had done to deserve this outcome, to be stripped of their humanity

now i personally like to think that the reader struggling to speak is something that comes with their body being altered, like everything is big so they're not used to any of it so really all they can do is cry and struggle to say a coherent sentence because it sounds like a garbled mess, but that is also me wanting to add salt to the wound because this is supposed to be sad ooooo ⚡⚡

anyway, at the end of it all (cause there was more than one video, a whole documentary on reader and the experiments done on them), Sebastian is left feeling too many emotions and he doesn't even know when he started crying but he is (since the reader he knows now is different from the one he just saw in the videos but deep down it hurts so much because that is the same person in different years of their life) and p.ai.nter isn't sure how to comfort him so they keep apologizing till Sebastian finally chooses to leave

next time he stops by reader's shop he can't even bring himself to stare at them properly because he's afraid he'll start bawling his eyes out, meanwhile, reader is just staring at him like ":3? no snarky comments or banter today wow what happened to him" unaware that he has seen The Horrors

that's all thanks for coming to my tedtalk

Authors Note: This is inspired by this request but not 1:1 written like it. This is pure angst and some gore. READ AT OWN RISK.

Tags: GORE, Angst, Reversed AU, mentions of syringes, drugs and operations.

Words: 2,7k

The sound of a click filled the room, followed by the small red light blinking on the video camera, indicating it was recording. Sebastian glanced at you with irritation as you held the camera—a little relic you'd scavenged from a deeper part of the facility—not too long ago. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of the leather jacket you had once sold him.

"And we are live!~ Say hello to the viewers, Seb!" you teased, shoving the camera playfully in his face. He immediately pushed it away with his hand, his scowl deepening.

"I get it, I get it," he grumbled, pointing at the camera with a mock glare. "You found a new toy. Now what? You planning to make a movie or something?"

You shot him a sharp look, the room growing colder as if you were subtly irritated by his comment. Sebastian could sense he'd hit a nerve, a rare feat considering your usual carefree attitude. But then, unexpectedly, you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach and flashing him the signature grin that always greeted him when he came to your shop.

"I’ve already starred in plenty,” you replied cryptically, your words hanging in the air with an eerie undertone. Sebastian opened his mouth to ask what you meant, but you cut him off with another sly comment. “Maybe you’re the next big star, Solace.”

After leaving your shop, Sebastian wandered through the halls of the Hadal Blackside facility, the encounter with you replaying in his mind. He’d grown to enjoy your company—your banter, your teasing, the way you challenged him. But today, something about your behavior felt off. Beneath the jokes and sarcasm, there was something else—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And that unsettled him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

How could he be in a relationship with someone so different, so complex? You were like a puzzle with missing pieces, a riddle that refused to be solved. The more he thought about it, the more it nagged at him. His legs carried him on autopilot through the winding corridors, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.

It wasn’t until he found himself in the office segment of the building that he realized he’d been walking without really paying attention. His hand hovered over the keycard reader, and it struck him that he hadn’t even looked for the blue plastic card he needed to get through the next door. The desk was a mess of papers, ink, and tapes.

His eyes fell on an old, unlabeled tape, the kind they'd used for surveillance back in the day. Scrawled on it in red ink was a series of numbers: *Z-13.* The sight of it piqued his curiosity, a nagging feeling that it was significant. Without thinking, he slipped it into his pocket. He’d find a way to watch it later.

Sebastian rummaged through countless drawers, lockers, and cabinets, searching for the keycard, but instead, he kept finding more of those mysterious tapes. Each one seemed older than the last, covered in dust and marked with strange codes.

His practical side told him he should probably look through all of them, not just the one he had picked up. So, he gathered them into a makeshift box he'd found lying around and continued his search for the keycard, all the while wondering what secrets these tapes might hold—and what they had to do with you. He know the Name Z-13 was related to you.

If there was anything he knew for sure, it was that you were full of surprises. And maybe, just maybe, these tapes would help him understand you a little better.

By pure coincidence, Sebastian ran into P.AI.nter a while later as he continued through the seemingly endless corridors of the facility, taking casual steps despite the weight of the wonky box filled with random tapes he was carrying. The AI's sketched face flickered to life, its eyes narrowing with a curious gaze. "Quite the haul today, Sebastian," it remarked, its voice tinged with artificial cheerfulness. "Planning to deliver all of that to our trusty shopkeeper?"

Sebastian grunted in response, setting the box down on the floor with a thud. He raised his hands above his head, stretching to relieve the ache that had settled in his shoulders from lugging the heavy box around. "Can you play them?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and exhaustion. It was a simple question, and he knew the answer even as he asked it—of course P.AI.nter could play a few tapes.

But as soon as the question left his lips, the room fell into an uneasy silence. P.AI.nter’s usual cheerful demeanor seemed to shift, its sketched form glitching for a moment as if processing something more than just data. The AI stared at Sebastian and the tapes, an uncharacteristic hesitation creeping into its expression.

"It's just a tape, Sebastian," P.AI.nter finally replied, its voice flat, devoid of its usual light-heartedness. There was something in the way it spoke—something guarded, almost cautious—that only fueled Sebastian's curiosity further. The AI’s reluctance was like gasoline on a fire.

“A tape I want to watch,” Sebastian shot back, his patience wearing thin. He was tired of the evasiveness, the constant roadblocks whenever he sought answers. He moved with purpose, selecting one of the tapes and sliding it into the nearest recorder, right next to P.AI.nter’s screen.

“I have to warn you, Sebastian,” P.AI.nter said, its tone shifting to something closer to pleading. The air between them grew heavy, the tension thickening as the tape began to whirl in the machine. Sebastian paused, the gravity of the AI's words weighing on him.

"You won’t like any second of it," P.AI.nter added, its voice barely more than a whisper. There was a finality in its tone, a sense of foreboding that hung in the air like a storm about to break. The familiar face of his AI friend got replaced by some white noise and then a black screen.

Sebastian’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched the screen flicker to life, unsure of what he was about to see but certain of one thing: whatever was on these tapes, it was something the facility—and P.AI.nter—wanted to keep hidden.

“Hellooo! I'm one of the new researchers here at the Hadal Blackside. I'm recording Tape Nr. XXXX in Containment Cell XXXX. Wish me luck!”

Sebastian watched as a cheerful person appeared on the screen, holding a camera up to their face. Excitement radiated from their eyes, and despite the poor quality of the footage, their energy was infectious. Some of the information on the screen glitched out, redacting key details as if the tape had deliberately scrambled those moments, keeping certain things obscured.

The person on the screen shifted their stance, and the camera followed their movement. “This is a video for my friend who was super excited to hear about my job. I totally stole the camera for this, so shhh, we can't get caught,” they whispered conspiratorially, a playful grin spreading across their face. There was something unsettling about their carefree demeanor, yet Sebastian couldn't help but feel a small flicker of amusement. The tape felt like a low-quality YouTube vlog, reminiscent of simpler times, with this familiar-looking worker goofing off for the amusement of a friend.

“They told me this is super secret stuff,” the voice continued, the lens panning around the containment cell. “But I just have to show you this.”

The video abruptly cut to another segment, the view shifting to reveal a massive anglerfish-like entity lurking behind an enormous glass wall. The waters it swam in were inky black, like thick oil, giving the creature an unsettling and eerie aura as it moved in the dark liquid.

“Isn't it cool?” the person behind the camera asked with an almost childlike wonder, pressing their flat hand against the glass. “They’re hiding this here! They do some voodoo fish shit in this facility. Even the human centipede would turn pale in envy.”

Sebastian froze as he watched the footage. The creature behind the glass was terrifying—a monstrous anglerfish, its grotesque form barely discernible in the murky waters. It was an unsettling sight, made even more disturbing by the fact that this reckless researcher was standing mere inches from one of the most dangerous entities imaginable, their tone light and casual as if they were commenting on the weather.

A chill ran down Sebastian’s spine as he continued to watch the video, his breath caught in his throat. The footage shifted again, but the image of the monstrous fish remained burned into his mind. His gut twisted with unease. What was this person thinking, standing so close to something so deadly? And why did they seem so familiar?

As the old tape continued to play, the weight of the discovery settled on Sebastian’s shoulders like a heavy boulder. Whatever secrets were buried in these tapes, he was certain they weren’t meant to be uncovered—especially not by him. Yet here he was, staring at a reality that seemed more and more like a nightmare. The things he saw so far in the blackside were not as terrifying as this giant monster that rested behind that glass wall.

The tape ended abruptly, and for a moment, there was only silence. Sebastian’s hands trembled as he reached down to turn the cassette over, the worn edges rough against his fingertips. He knew there were at least four more tapes waiting in the box at his feet, each one a potential gateway to another nightmare. His breath caught in his throat, a cold sweat forming on his brow. Still, his curiosity and a gnawing need for answers compelled him to continue.

With a shaky breath, he pressed the tape back into the player, flipping it to the other side. The screen flickered to life again, this time showing a cold, sterile operating room. Several figures in hazmat suits moved with practiced precision, their faces obscured by masks and goggles. The room was pristine, a stark contrast to the horror Sebastian knew was about to unfold.

“This is Experiment Nr. XXXX,” a calm, clinical voice narrated. “And our newest trial patient, Z-13, who volunteered for their transformation.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he recognized the person strapped to the operating chair—the same person from the earlier footage. They were bound tightly, their limbs secured as though they were a dangerous criminal. There was no mistaking the fear and confusion in their eyes, even through the drug-induced haze.

“Z-13 was administered XXXX, XXXX, and XXXX 20 minutes prior to the start of this procedure,” the voice continued with an unsettling detachment. “Their pupils are dilated, and the patient has entered a state of delirium, necessary for the next phase of the experiment.”

The camera zoomed in on the bound figure, their eyes bloodshot and unnaturally wide, darting around the room in a frantic, unfocused search for something familiar. Sebastian felt his stomach churn with a sickening realization—this was no volunteer. This was a person trapped, forced into an unimaginable horror. The idea of volunteering was just another lie, a thin veneer over a darker truth.

Sebastian’s fingers dug into his knees as he watched, his body tense with dread. He knew what was coming next, but the tape did not shy away from the gruesome details. The hours that followed were a blur of pain and suffering, each tape more harrowing than the last. Scenes of torn flesh and oily blood filled the screen, detached limbs falling to the sterile floor with sickening thuds. Each cut, each scream was more unbearable than the last. And those eyes—those haunted, slowly awakening eyes—followed Sebastian throughout each frame, pleading silently for mercy.

With each passing minute, it became painfully clear that the drugs were losing its effectiveness and the person that was tied to the chair gained the ability to feel every single thing that happened there. The delirium ended and the terror began.

The scream tore through the speakers with such intensity that Sebastian flinched. It wasn’t just a scream—it was a raw, visceral sound, a guttural cry filled with a mix of agony, fear, and desperation. It was a sound so primal that it clawed its way into his very bones, settling there with an uncomfortable weight. It was the worst thing he had heard in ages. Every nerve in his body screamed in empathy for the poor soul on the screen, the person whose existence had been reduced to nothing but a vessel for pain.

“Silence them,” a cold, emotionless voice commanded from off-screen.

Almost immediately, a set of cruel, metal clamps were forcefully shoved into the patient's mouth, prying it open with a brutality that made Sebastian wince. These were the kind of instruments used for people with severe jaw fractures, designed to immobilize and inflict pain to prevent further injury. But here, they were used as a tool of torture, a means to quiet the suffering that had become too loud for the facility’s sterile walls. The rough, unyielding metal dug into their flesh, tearing into the soft tissue of their mouth, blood trickling down their chin. The sight was gruesome, and Sebastian could feel his stomach twist with disgust.

The person’s screams were abruptly cut off, replaced by a wet, choking gurgle. They were left to suffer in silence, their jaw now clamped shut, the metal rods cruelly keeping it from moving even a fraction. Tears streamed down their face, their eyes wide with terror and pain, every muscle in their body taut with agony.

And just when Sebastian thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the camera shifted. The surgeon, clad in a sterile suit that seemed to mock the very concept of humanity, moved over the patient's eyes. Those eyes—once filled with life, now wide with shock, pain, and a frantic, animalistic fear—darted around in sheer terror. They were crying frantically, tears mingling with the blood on their face.

“We will now begin our final part,” the disembodied voice continued with a chilling detachment. “Removal of the natural human eyes to replace them with XXXX using XXXX and XXXX. The expected results will lead to an ability to see underwater.”

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat as he watched a gloved hand reach for a long, thin needle, the metal glinting ominously under the harsh, fluorescent lights. The needle was positioned directly over the patient's eye, the sharp tip hovering just above the delicate orb. Their wide, terrified gaze seemed to plead with the unseen surgeons, with the camera, with anyone who might be watching—to stop, to help, to do something.

But there was no help. There was no mercy.

The screen flickered for a moment, and then, mercifully, the tape cut to black. The room was plunged into darkness, the only sound the low hum of the equipment around him. Sebastian sat frozen, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing with the horrific images he had just witnessed. His hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white, the tension radiating through his entire body.

He was left alone in the darkness, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. The horror of what he had seen, of what had been done to someone who had likely never asked for any of this, crashed over him.

Then P.AI.nters face greeted him on the screen.

“They first drugged them, then they put in a row of ocean animal dna into their body.”

He was pointing out the steps that the surgeons did in the tape.

“They cut off their fingers, waiting for them to grow back. They took of the part from the knees to the feet…and then they noticed that it wasn't enough.”

Sebastian raised his hands, to put them over his ears.

“They lost both their healthy legs. Next was their ears, they cut it off. And then…they silenced them by closing their jaw.”

He could still hear P.AI.nter.

“And then they lost their eyes. The transformation from the human self to…the thing they are now…took 7 weeks. They attached and deattached plenty of stuff on them.”

For a moment he felt the urge to shut P.AI.nter off for good.

“Our shopkeeper went through much, don't you think?”

A loud sound filled the room and then there was darkness.

[gojo-enthusiast]

Kento Nanami — No Words, Only Moans

mlist<3

18+, MDI, degrading, angry sex, overstimulation—

Your darling husband Kento Nanami was not happy with you today. You had always known he was a rather patient husband, so you naturally got away with little back talk, and snarky remarks. This morning you made your husband late for work, when you decided late at night to rearrange his shoes and clothes, you hadn’t realized you didn’t hang his dress shirt he wore for missions, now his laundry is wrinkled, and on the floor. Gojo now calling Kento asking him where he is at?

All through out the day, you had called him asking him common sense questions, like “what are your thoughts on white bread and wheat bread” but to you, you were seeking attention from your agitated husband, and seeing him getting frustrated by your actions, only fueled for you to piss him off more. Finally after the last call, Kento finally was done with your attitude. “Fuck, quit calling me for the rest of the day. You’re driving me berserk.” He snaps. “Excuse me?” You ask in an agitated tone. “You have been picking on me all day, if you don’t have an emergency do not call me, I am working. Fuck— Itadori-Kun, don’t touch that! Gojo-San, you fucking dumbass!” He shouts, hanging up the phone. At this point you knew, you fucked up. Your ass was grass when he got home, he either was going to scold you, or not talk to you until he cools down.

You paced around the living room, as 5PM hit, meaning your husband was going to be home in 17 minutes. Sitting on the couch, cuddled under a blanket, biting your nails. You see the nob turn, and keys dangling. You hear a light mutter behind the door, and a frustrated grunt. “Fuck fuck fuck.” You think to yourself. You rushed to the bathroom, instantly turning the hot water on for a bath, knowing your husband was going to be angry with you, you were trying to soften up his feelings as much as possible. As you hear the front door slam shut. You begin to start putting some epsom salts and essential oils in the bath, something to calm him down. Your heart is racing, your skin has chill bumps. You lacked much cursed energy, so you lived your life as a normal person, but at this moment, you sensed his presence the closer he got, until he was at the bathroom door, staring at you.

“Hey Ken— I drew you a bath.” You lightly said, watching him loosen his tie, you could see his blue shirt was still wrinkled, and he looked disheveled. “Let me take your clothes and I’ll wash and iron them.” You add lightly. Your husband has YET to say a word. You walk over to him, grabbing the tie that was bundled in his hands, and begin to unbutton his shirt, wanting to take full care of your Kento. You felt his head droop down, his mouth next to your ear.

“Listen to me carefully.” He says in a seductive growl. “You’re not allowed to speak, until I say you’re allowed the speak.” He says, making your heart race even faster, “take off your clothes and bend over the counter… now.” He growls. You look up to say something, but you knew if you did so, you might be the next thing he exercises. You look up at him, with your innocent doe eyes, pleading with him to be easy on you. But you saw clear in his eyes, tonight is about him, and him only, he will use you till his hearts content. “Now.” He says louder. You nod lightly, pulling your nightgown off, only left in your silk panties, that you hadn’t even realized you soaked in your arousal. “Wtf is wrong with me?” You think to yourself.

You bend over the counter, hearing your husband turn off the tub, and then come up behind you, his clothed manhood pressed against you, as he gently rubs the fat of your ass, before he lands a hard slap on it. Making your legs shake, and a yelp coming out of your lips. “HUSH!” He shouts. You close your mouth, feeling your arousal slip out of you. “Look at you, soaked. Is this what you wanted, you act like a fucking brat all day, for me to fuck you?” He hisses, he was beyond furious, you could feel the heat coming off his body. He peeled your underwear off, dropping it at your ankles. A moment later, you feel him push a silicone item inside your hole, your walls hugging it so perfectly. “Ah—“ you moan. Then another slap on your ass. You covered your mouth. “Fuck, Do you not fucking listen?” He asks. You nodded, and then stifled the moan that almost escaped your mouth when you felt the machine turn on. “Stand there, and take it. I’m gonna take a bath.” Kento smirks to himself. “Don’t you fucking dare move or talk. I only give you permission to moan.”

Kento watched you as he sat in the bath, relaxing after a long day. He watched you as the vibrator which he controlled on a remote, made you cum over and over and over. It had been the 5th time now, you were crying in pleasure, you couldn’t speak, but your moans were confirming to him, that you were wanting to be fucked merciless. Your hearing had gone in and out, but you heard your husband step out of the bath and walk up to you. He pulled the device out of you, and quickly replaced it with his cock. Instantly slamming into you. “You little slut, you like it when I fuck you like this? You’re gonna fuckin take it.” He grunts, his hips were like a stallion, he slammed them forcefully and fucked you stupid. You felt him pick you up, showcasing yourself to the mirror. “Watch how I fuck your slutty cunt. Watch how I fix that brattiness.” He grunts in your ear, you sat there and watch your husband fuck up into you roughly, “Ken-“ you groan, feeling so overstimulated. “SHUT UP!” he shouts, biting your shoulder. You yelped out from the bite, feeling your stomach tingle, “shut up shut up shut up!” He chanted, he didn’t want to hear you, he wanted to hear nothing come out of your mouth. “I only want to hear your pussy, she listens, unlike you.” He growls, slamming faster, placing his hand on your clit, rubbing quickly. He loved the way you would clamp down on him as you were approaching an orgasm.

You blacked out after squirting all over the mirror, you woke up 10 minutes later, to you lied on your stomach, and your back arched. Kento was slamming into you still. His cock was throbbing, he had busted already, yet he needed more. “Fuck!! You make me so fucking angry. You never fucking listen.” He says as he thrust. “Kenny, I’m sorry baby. Please slow down.” You moan, feeling your walls and stomach tighten again. “I can’t hear anything, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He grunted, he was so entranced and addicted to your pussy that nothing you could do, could calm him the fuck down. “Please, ah- Kenny.” You whimpered, you moaned so deliciously, making his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, I could fuck you forever. I don’t want to hear— hear your words, I just want to hear you cry for more.” Kento groaned, his cock was so sensitive, yet he couldn’t stop. “Ken, feels so so good. I’ll be so so good now, I just-just missed you so so much.” You moan out. “I wont ever leave you.” He moaned into your ear, as his thrust began to get sloppy, and his head next to yours. You felt him pull out, flipping you over, inserting himself back into you sopping sensitive cunt. He thrust quickly, while her hand found your clit and rubbed it quickly. “Cum, now.” He grunted, as his cock twitched and started shooting out inside of you. “Ah yes yes yes!” You chanted, cumming and squirting all over his cock. “Kento, please slow down.” You moaned, feeling your legs spasm. You simply couldn’t take it anymore. “Water, I need water.” You groan. Your husband’s vision, finally clearing and his head less foggy. “Hmm?” He hummed as he slid out, and lied beside you, slipping off the bed to grab water. You stared at his figure, as his cock began to finally soften, and he looked thoroughly satisfied. He handed you a bottle water, and you downed it like you were dehydrated. “I’m sorry kento.” You pout. He kissed your forehead, and whispered. “I’m not done with you yet. You better get your breather in, you messed with me for 8 hours, we have 5 more hours to go.” He said, as you watched his cock swole back up. The only thought in your head— “oh fuck, I really fucked up.”

[evilgwrl]

Hi girl I had a really bad couple of days, yesterday was my birthday and it went horrible and today i got yelled at because I had a panic attack and wanted to leave the gym early and my parents said I was wasting their time...

Could you do a panic attack comfort fic with Johnny and/or Simon? But not like during the panic attack, maybe reader tells them about it later and just isn't doing so good. I love your work 🩷

Thank you my love. I’m so sorry this is very late and I’m so sorry for what you’re going through. Panic attacks are incredibly difficult to both go through during the moment and after. I hope you’re alright, message me whenever.

I hope this is kinda what u were after. Happy belated birthday, darling. :)

CW: This can be read as both platonic or romantic, completely up to you. Allusions to panic attacks/ poor mental health(?)

You could feel it before it began, the coil of tightness that winded in your chest, skidding along your bones, agitating your lungs as they constricted, refraining from oxygen.

You could feel it after, too.

It was difficult, always hitting when you least expected, your mind chanting that you were okay, just quiet enough to not be heard by the rest of you. You sat there, thighs tapping together as your feet rocked, heart settling into a monotone thump against your rib cage.

It was loud, overly loud. Maybe your ears were just more sensitive. It was a chorus of voices colliding against chipped walls and dusty ceilings, fans whirling like ticking clocks as plates clattered on worn tables. It was too loud.

“Are yae listening?” Soap quipped, a sheepish smile on his face as your gaze faltered, watching him for a moment before excusing yourself. Your name fell on deaf ears as you walked off, huddled inside your room. The barracks were quieter than the food hall, the occasional rattle of feet passing by your door.

You clutched a folded book in between sweated palms, the pages whirling into one as words seized before you, pupils dilating with exhaustion as you huffed a breath. The knock on your door was nearly silent, a loud pause shattering against the door frame as you sighed.

“Hi Johnny,” your voice was quiet.

His hand was rubbing at the back of his neck, a subtle look of confusion upon his features, “Y’ alright, lass? Walked off back there with nae warning.”

Your brows furrowed, rubbing against your lashes in an irritated manner as you opened your mouth like a guppy, quickly closing it as your own vision met an icy arctic. “I- It’s nothing.”

Soap’s push was gentle as he guided himself into your private quarters, shutting the door with a gentle click. “What is it, bon?”

Your thighs sunk into the comforter as you adjusted yourself onto the pillows resting at your headboard. They felt featherless, an empty bag of cotton that guaranteed no support. “I just haven’t been doing the best, but I’m fine, really, just not a good day-“

“Yae can’t be doing the best and be fine, can yae?” Johnny’s voice was overworked, normally a higher tone of banter that had now subsided into a tone of pure comfort and concern. Your eyes became overwashed with salted moisture, a steady shake of a breath gripping at your oesophagus as you flickered your pupils down to your fingers, the same fingers that were finding comfort in coiling around one another.

“It just gets difficult sometimes, Johnny. I – I don’t know how to explain it. It hits me, and it just feels like it will never go away like I’ll be stuck in this deep hole forever. It’s like being sucked into a rip and the only way out is to drown.”

The Scotsman was quiet, which was unusual. He wasn’t the best with comfort, normally using humour to counteract his own personal issues. “Lass, I’m sorry-“

“I promise it’s fine, Johnny.”

His hand was gentle over yours, a grip that broiled your skin into a thin sheet of worn paper, written with scribes that he understood you, that he cared for you. Your eyes met, subsided tears washing over you with a gentle glaze as his lip quirked, lifting slightly into a smile.

“It dan’t always have tae be fine, yae know that, right?”

“Yea-“

“I dan’t think yae do. Y’er allowed tae feel… scared. Or, unsure. Feeling certain ways dan’t make yae weak, lass.”

Your arms were cold as they wrapped around his larger frame, immediate heat engulfing you as you adjusted your frame, steady hands slinking into the tension of your skin as you breathed into the crook of his neck. His skin was tainted with thick aftershave, hues of mint burning through your senses as it tickled your nose hairs.

The scruff from Soap’s shaven face rubbed against the flesh of your cheeks as you pressed against one another. His lips were thin yet silken, engraving a stain into the structure of your forehead as you breathed out a shallow thank you.

You weren’t sure how long you both sat there, wrapped up in each other in a swell embrace, hearts combining into one beat as your hair mangled into the gel of his mohawk. Your eyes fluttered shut, consumed by exhaustion as a final mark from the Sergeant laced your skin before he left, allowing you to sleep.

You woke alone, a scribbled note next to you along with a jumper. The heart was messy, written on an old napkin, the words ‘Our bravest soldier’ mangled into the thin paper. You smiled, grabbing the jumper as you slid it onto your frame.

The room was quiet as you sat there, picking up the book again, a lighter feeling in your chest. There was a knock on your door again, a loud one that you could tell was attempting to be quiet.

His eyes were humble, a sunken carob that spoke without a voice. Whilst concealed by his usual mask, his face seemed bare, vulnerable. Ghost, unlike Soap, wasn’t one of many words. He stood there, tall and structured.

“C’mere.”

His scent was reminiscent of whiskey and gunpowder. Simon was cold to the touch, gradually melting into you as his head rested on yours, the prickle of his kiss planted amid your hair.

The Lieutenant knew of pain; he had grown around it, blooming from violence and the anarchy of death. He also knew words weren’t his thing. He did know, however, that he hadn’t moved for the past hour, your sleeping frame curled into burly arms as he watched your lashes dip into your cheeks, a monotone strum sounding from his chest as he rocked you into a state of comfort.

[gretavanlace]

Softer, Softest

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: sexual content, language, slight angst, penetration, cockwarming, etc

Okay, the quickest of blurbs (under 1k) because I have neglected my josh lane lovelies so, so terribly. I received a request for bad day/comfort josh but now I can’t find the ask. Did I answer it and forget? Perhaps. Who knows? Anyway, this is just a fast fix, but I promise a full length josh fic is right around the corner ❤️

Josh is lounging across the living room couch, battered paperback in hand, when you push open the front door with a clattering of keys and the thunk of your bag hitting the floor.

”Stay there.” You implore, when he moves to stand in greeting. Just the sight of his face, so beautiful and bright-white love, has tears threatening in your eyes.

He notices right away, and his own eyes turn wide with concern, “What is it, dove? What happened?”

”Nothing.” You shake your head adamantly as you kick off your heels, leaving them where they don’t belong in a way you normally never would, “Nothing I want to talk about, anyway. I just had a shitty day, and I missed you.”

”C’mere, baby…” his voice is soothing, lulling you like a melody as he pats his thigh, “Come sit.”

Hiking your pencil skirt up enough to straddle his lap, you settle in against him with a sigh of content. He is warm, and he is home.

His palm strokes up and down your back, wrinkling the silk of your shirt under its weight, “I’m sorry you had a bad day. How can I help? Are you hungry? I could make you something. Or draw a bath with those salts you like, read to you?”

You shake your head against his shoulder with a heavy sigh, “No. This. I want this.”

”Alright,” you can hear the soft smile in his tone, he is pleased to be what you want in your moment of struggle, no matter how small.

Fingers crawling upward, he squeezes at the clip tucked into your hair and releases it, then scratches lightly at your scalp to give you a shiver.

”That feels nice.” You murmur, nuzzling into his neck until he is all you can smell.

”Here,” he whispers, gently nudging your shoulders, “sit up a little.”

You do as he says and study his lovely face as he concentrates on working the buttons of your shirt before pushing it off of you. Next pop the clasps of your bra, and the bliss of being free of it sends another delicate shiver undulating up your spine.

“There we go, dove.” He pets at your hair again and then pulls you back in, blunt nails lazily tracing your back until you feel like glittering liquid in his embrace.

”Thank you, Josh.” Your lips brush against his soft skin as you speak, “I’m sorry.”

”What are you sorry for?” He asks, matching your quiet as his hands continue to coddle you.

”For being a baby.”

”You are a baby,” he reminds you, words filled right up with love. “You’re my baby.”

Suddenly, your heart feels too big for your chest. How did you ever get so lucky? Do you even deserve him? Certainly not…no one does. “I love you. I love you so much. I just want to disappear inside you and live there forever.”

He laughs at this, that tiny giggle that melts you right down to your toes every time it peeks out, “Isn’t it usually the other way around? Me disappearing inside you?”

You giggle to match him, “Classy, Joshua.”

”I am but a caveman,” his fingers swirl circles into the dimples of your lower back, “a disgusting specimen of the lesser species.”

Another laugh flits off your tongue. You know he is trying to cheer you up, and as always…it’s working. “You are no such thing. You’re so good to me.”

A comfortable silence creeps in, but your mind is working overtime. His comment, me disappearing inside you, playing on an endless loop until you can’t stand it any longer.

”Hey,” your voice is meek, timid and unsure, as you toy nervously with the mala beads looped around his neck.

”Hmm?” He pecks a tender kiss into your hair.

”Am I really your baby?” Why do you feel so shy about this? Normally you’re adventurous and even more outgoing than he is, which is really saying something. But right now you feel…inexplicably bashful.

“Of course you’re my baby,” his lips are pressing kisses against your head again as he audibly breathes in the scent of your hair.

“Can you…” you twist those cool, smooth beads around in your fist idly, “I want…”

”You want what, dove?” He soothes your nerves with that loving lilt laced through his tone, “Tell me. I’ll make it happen. I’ll give it to you.”

”I want to be closer to you,” your words breathe into his ear just before your teeth sink gently into his silken lobe.

He knows. He somehow always knows.

“Lift up, baby bird.” His voice, rasping with subdued lust and stark devotion, needles at your heart until your head swims.

You rise up on your knees and watch on as he tugs your skirt up even higher and then pulls at the waistband of his pants.

You lovingly tease him about these khakis and their elastic waist. You call them his ‘dad pants’ just to watch him become uncharacteristically crass and grab his crotch with a ‘I’ve got your daddy right here, dove’. But right now? Right now you’re more than grateful for the lack of buttons and zippers for him to contend with.

With your gaze fixed on his gorgeous cock, he sweeps your panties to the side and eases you down onto it. Hissing as the heat of your cunt envelopes him.

”Is that better, baby?” He asks shakily, once you’re seated in his lap, filled up tight and snug with him.

“Much.”

You relax fully in his arms and it tugs at his heart-strings, making him even more completely fucking gone for you. He would set this whole world on fire if you felt even a little bit chilly.

A haunting, calming song begins to hum out of him, the vibration of it purring from his chest and straight into your heart.

”You sound so pretty,” you praise, cheek pressed just beneath his throat until the weight of the world seems to lift away and disappear.

”And you feel so pretty, dove.” He’s lightly scratching your back again, coddling you into a haze. “Softer than satin absolutely everywhere. Inside and out. Soft here,” the back of his hand brushes down your arm, “softer here,” his thumb kisses your lips, “softest here.” His hips lift ever so lightly.

Without waiting for a response, he begins humming to you again…guiding you gingerly into sleep while he rests, safely nestled inside you.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama @alwaysonthemend

[gojobbg]

ravish | reader(f) x bf!yuji

pairing: reader(f) x bf!yuji (aged up)

synopsis: after days being gone for a mission, yuji comes home and loves on your body, particularly your mouth

warning(s): face fucking

a/n: just a small thang. to those who have sent asks, im working on them! school/work drains me but ive been making progress in all of them, i swear xo also do we prefer proper capitalization or all lower case writings? just tryna gage based on other smut ive seen.

It was a mystery to recall how you ended up in this predicament.

Your pink-haired lover had you stripped, the entirety of your body exposed before him. Your back was pressed against the cold wall of your bedroom, with your knees digging down against the beige carpet. And before you was your lover, your beloved curse user. And his painfully hard cock.

You couldn't hold contact with his eyes, but whenever you did leave sight of his tantalizing limb, you'd be met with dark, hungry eyes. Those jade orbs had you in a chokehold, especially with how many days its gone without looking at you. You could tell Yuji was preparing to pounce you, as his pensive expression worsened the small pool developing in your flower. He was admiring you, as it has been a week since he couldn't.

"you're so beautiful, m'love," he murmurs quietly. "how is my girlfriend this beautiful?" You shake your head shyly, unable to accept his compliments. But your face goes crimson when his toothy grin disappears, and his lips straighten. "m'gonna show you how beautiful you are..."

Gently, Yuji puts one of his hands on the back of your head, cushioning it against the hard wall behind you. With the other hand, he holds his twitchy cock and looks down at you adoringly. "let me in, love." Obediently, your lips separate.

"Good girl," he whispers before completely filling your mouth. He doesn't ease it in, his tip quickly reacquainting itself with the back of your throat. Tears well up in your eyes, your breathing comes unsteady. Muscular thighs and toned abs fill your blurred view as the taste of salt dragged along your tongue. Squelches from your salivating mouth supplemented the silence alongside Yuji's satisfying grunts. "you... take my cock so well, pretty girl. god, mmph, i missed you and this pretty little mouth of yours."

His member slid in and out of you with ease, his cock shining gloriously from your saliva. You could feel your honey spill from your flower, your cunt eagerly waiting its turn. You could barely breathe now, relying on your nose to keep you going. Albeit this fact, you didn't want Yuji to stop. You wanted him to use you as he so desired. To be loved and ravished by him.

"babygirl, your mouth feels... so fucking, ah good-!" He proceeds to go faster, his balls slapping your chin with each thrust. You moan around his cock, which earns you a throaty string of curses from your insatiable partner. "more... god, i want more."

He then grabs you by the base of your ponytail, pulling you away from the wall. With both hands to the sides of your head, he continues to face fuck you. His hands guide you, bobbing your head up and down his desperate shaft. Your thoughts were fucked empty, you could no longer think. All you knew was this cock, and nothing more.

"your mouth is so fucking hot, y/n, holy shit," he praises through grunts. Your chin began dripping with saliva, your hands holding onto his thighs in struggle. He chuckled at your nails digging into his legs, knowing you were reaching your limit. You could feel his veins shape into your cheeks, and on your tongue. "i'll fuck you as soon as you get me to cum in your mouth. help me out, will ya?"

You finally hollow your cheeks, your mouth completely coating his cock. Yuji hisses in ecstasy, his hands moving your head just a bit faster. His tip keeps hitting the back of your throat, now causing you to swallow each time. He feels the walls of your throat close, wanting nothing more than to shoot cum right down it. "baby, i'm gonna cum..." He warns you, sweat beginning to bead on his abs.

You hum around his cock in affirmation. He chuckles again before looking up, profanities jumping from his tongue. With one final thrust, he forces his entire shaft into your mouth, part of it housed in your throat. Your eyes widen when you felt his hot load burst and roll down into your throat. Your eyes itched from tears, and you kept gagging on his cock. He was so big, you couldn't handle it. It's only been a week, and your mouth was virgin to his length.

He pulls out slowly, with his tip bouncing off your bottom lip. "come," Yuji's warm smile welcomes you, with two hands being offered to you. You take his hands and rise, your knees burning from the carpet. "you did so good for me, baby," he murmurs, his index and thumb holding your wet chin. Your lips were pink and tender from his relief, and he quickly mends them with a passionate kiss. Calloused hands find their way to your ass, his fingers teasing your pussy a bit with precum ornate on his tips. "looks like your ready for me, baby."

You nod your head shyly, unable to get the words out. Yuji chuckles, a toothy smile illuminating your world. With a kiss on your head, he lowers himself to one of your ears. "since you sucked me off so well, i'm gonna fuck you until the sun comes up. does that sound like a plan, princess?"

[nctsplug02]

johnny + sexting/videocalling when he's away on tour?? 🤒🤒🤒

Happy Thanksgiving! j.suh

GENRES: fluff, smut, phone sex, idol x non-celeb fem reader!

WARNINGS: phone sex.

the dinner you cooked an hour and a half ago was getting colder and colder by the minute but you were too drunk to even eat what you’d made.

wine and cooking dinner did not mix well, especially when you’re a light weight!

RING RING!

you lift your head off the counter and scrub your face with a sigh. “what time is it?”

you reach and grab your phone, hitting the green button. “hello?” silence. “hello?” you look at the screen with barely open eyes. “oh, oops.” you giggle to yourself and swipe the screen until it shows you’ve picked up.

“yes, hello?” you put the speaker to your ear and rub your eyes.

“baby!” you wince and yank the phone away from your ear. “shit!” you hiss and rub your ear, looking at the screen to see your husband with his face up close.

it was a facetime call not an actual call.

“hellooo,” johnny says into the mic. “did i wake you up?” he pulls his face away and raises an eyebrow.

“just a little bit. i closed my eyes for five minutes… that’s all.” you smile and set your phone down against the bottle of wine.

“what were you doing before you knocked out?” you giggle and shake your head. “alright, i didn’t knock out. i only closed my eyes for a good five minute, i swear. but, i did a little bit of cooking and had a few glasses of wine while waiting for your call.”

johnny rests his phone on something and sits back on the beige couch. “what about you, handsome? finished with the concert, i see.” you rub the running mascara from under your eyes.

“mhm, i just got out of the shower. couldn’t stop thinking about you. i’m sorry i can’t be there for thanksgiving, my love.” johnny manspreads and sighs with a pout.

“i—it’s fine, baby.” you clear your throat and move your eyes back to johnnys face. “i’m just thankful that you’re with me spiritually and virtually.”

“spiritually?” johnny chuckles in a confusing tone. “yes, although you’re not here physically, i can feel your presence all around the house.”

“you sure it ain’t a ghost, baby?” johnny laughs when your face changes into a grumpy one. “shut up, don’t scare me like that!” you look around and hug yourself.

johnny laughs while shaking his head, his hand rubbing his jaw. “i was just kidding, my love.”

KNOCK KNOCK!

“room service,” johnny sits up. “looks like my dinner’s here.” he leaves the frame for a good two minutes before coming back.

you watch as johnny sets up the coffee table in front of him. “what’d you order for dinner, babe?” johnny pulls the top cover and reveals a juicy, thick steak. “steak,” he sets the top cover aside. “mashed potatoes and roasted, salted green beans on the side. all that topped off with some red wine.”

you moan and grab your phone, twirling yourself around hopping off the stool. “i wanna show you what i made for thanksgiving.”

“ouu, yeah! i’m excited and a bit sad to see what i’m missing out.” you giggle and walk towards the stove. “it’s really nothing. but, i didn’t want to cook a whole turkey since it’s just me so, i decided to go for something we usually don’t cook for thanksgiving.”

you reveal what’s sitting in your pot and johnny let’s out a horrified gasp. “what?! does it look bad?!” you turn the camera back to you.

“no, baby! i’m just… you cook seafood while i’m gone?!” you laugh and bite the tip of your finger. “well, i didn’t want turkey and mashed potatoes so, i went with what i was craving.”

“ugh, you’re gonna have to make that again but when i get back, please.” johnny groans. “i promise, baby.”

you put the top cover back on the pot and you go back to the stool. “i just brought a plate over to miss hapkins next door. she was telling me a few weeks ago that since her family wouldn’t be able to travel to her, she wasn’t going to do thanksgiving.”

johnny coos at you and tilts his head. “that’s what i love about you, baby. you’re so kindhearted and caring. i love that you decided to include miss hapkins in our thanksgiving.”

“but, now i really don’t wanna eat my steak anymore.” johnny chuckles and sighs. “i miss your cooking, babe.”

“it’s just two more weeks, john. just two more and then home meals are back.” you pick up your wine glass and the wine bottle. “just like you, i’m also having red wine.”

“1869?” you hum and set the bottle down after pouring it near the rim. “you bought that without me?” he whines and you just laugh. “i was gonna save it but… hey, i deserve a treat sometimes too.”

“of course you do, baby. always.” johnny actually picks up his fork and steak knife, cutting off a sliver of the juicy meat.

johnny holds up his piece and tilts his head so he’s in frame. “happy thanksgiving, my love.” he says.

“yes, happy thanksgiving, baby.” you hold up your wine glass, clinking the glass on your phone before taking a sip.

the sweet, rich taste of red wine melting down your throat.

“mmm,” you smack your lips and set your wine glass down. “how’s the steak, baby?” johnny nods with long hums, his eyes shutting as he takes in all the flavors. “it’s perfect. it’s juicy, flavorful, thick but melts on your tongue—mmm,” johnny sighs and cuts himself another piece.

you grab your phone, glass of wine, bottle of wine and you head to the living room.

“although,” you hum. “i prefer the way you make our steak over this.” you giggle and seat yourself on the love sack, setting the bottle of wine on the ground.

you hold up your glass again. “two more weeks, john. we can wait it out.” you take a sip.

johnny groans, “you know what else is in two more weeks?” you hum and ask, what. “your ovulation week.” your cheeks heat up. “once i get home, i’m not holding back, baby.” johnny shoves the meat into his mouth and chews.

“i am not drunk enough for this.” you laugh and shake your head. “what, you don’t wanna have a baby with me?”

“i’d love to have your baby but… i want to right now.” you could feel your panties dampen.

the thought of johnny fucking you full of his baby got you off. him going at you so many rounds that your swollen cunt is oozing out his cum. his slender fingers pushing his cum back in while whispering to you that there was no such thing as wasting good stuff.

“aw, baby.” johnny coos and sets down his knife and fork with a thud. “but, just like you said, two more weeks.”

you roll your eyes and chug the rest of your wine. “babe, you don’t even know how wet i am right now. i’m literally dripping all over our love sack.”

“i don’t believe you,” johnny sits back and groans. “how can i prove it to you?”

you knew exactly how johnny wanted you to prove it and you were trapping yourself in it.

“show me your pretty pussy and let me be the judge of how wet you are.” you bite your lip, eyes moving down to his now visible bulge. “my eyes are up, baby.” you giggle and move your eyes up.

“c’mon, take off your pants and show me how wet i make you.”

the tone of his voice is like a spell, your shorts and panties are pooled on the ground and your body is twisted in a way where johnny can see your pussy.

“fuck, y/n.” johnny growls lowly and cries out. “i wish i was home right now. i’d take you so hard on that love sack.”

“move yourself to the couch and put your phone down, baby. prop it up with the candles on the coffee table.” you listen to johnnys directions and you move yourself to the black couch, propping up your phone with the cherry red and white candles.

“that’s perfect, baby—fuck, y/n!” johnny grabs himself through his sweats.

“touch yourself, baby.” johnny undoes the strings of his sweats. “i wanna see you play with yourself.”

you lay back so that you’re barely propped up with your knees to your chest and arm between your legs. your fingers massaging your clit and ever so then dipping inside your hole just to tease johnny.

“that’s it, baby. pinch your clit.” you squeal when pinching your clit with your fingers.

johnny pulls himself free, he’s rock hard, precum oozing from his tiny slit. “finger yourself, baby.” you dip a finger into your hole.

“fuck, it just slipped in like nothing…” johnny groans, flexing as he smears the precum around his head.

“just a little faster, baby.” you whimper and pick up your pace, dropping your head back and shutting your eyes. “add another finger.” you add a second finger, shuddering at the slight stretch.

johnny curses under his breath and picks his pace with his strokes. “how does it feel, baby.” you shake your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“not the same,” johnny pauses his strokes. “what do you mean, baby?” your eyes water up, “it’s not the same, johnny.” your legs fall together and your fingers come to a stop.

“we can make it feel like it’s the same, baby. i want you to keep your eyes closed and listen to my voice. imagine it’s me who’s pleasuring you.”

“it won’t be the sam—“

“just listen to my voice, baby.” johnny whispers. “listen to my voice and listen to how i want you to touch yourself.”

you take deep breaths, breathing out slowly and quietly while johnny softly hums.

“let’s backtrack, alright, beautiful?” your lips twitch into a faint smile. “i want you to touch yourself, not finger but touch your clit for me.”

your fingers find their way on your clit, softly rubbing and pinching your clit.

“that’s it, baby.” johnny pulls off his shirt. “don’t cry, take deep breaths, alright?” you nod and rub eights on your clit.

“you have the cutest pussy. cute little pussy that struggles to take my dick.” you moan and ball up your fist, sinking your teeth into the flesh, hard enough so that your teeth leave light indents.

you’re too busy listening to johnnys voice to even notice that johnny had pulled out a cotton fabric. “let’s skip past one finger and do two, i know you can do it.”

with your middle and ring finger, you slip the two into your cunt and let out a cry of pleasure. “oh, fuck.” you gasp and softly jerk forward. “that’s it, gorgeous. look how good you’re taking my fingers.”

johnny wraps the cotton material around his cock and begins to stroke himself. “fuck, baby. you feel so good.”

whimpers slip past your lips as you pick up your pace, the heel of your palm rubbing against your clit, giving you more friction and more pleasure.

“that’s it, y/n. take all of me like a good slut.” johnny moans and strokes himself faster. “faster, baby.” you whimper and gasp repeatedly while your fingers rub your g-spot.

“j—johnny,” you dig your nails into your thighs that hold your legs in place. “i—i’m gonna c—cum.”

“mhm,” johnny hums, his hands fisting tightly around his cock. “cum for me, y/n. show me who makes you feel good.”

your pants and moans filling up the room while your orgasm crashes over you. your legs shake and tremble, and your body jerks repeatedly like you’d been shocked. your fingers slowly and desperately still fingering your cunt.

“s—shit, i’m cumming. fuckfuckfuck!” johnny groans loudly.

johnny balls up his shirt and bites down on the fabric, covering up his moans and whimpers. his fist stroking the tip and painting his abs with white ling streaks.

“oh, fuck…” johnny slowly fucks his fist, his angry red tip popping up every second. “so fucking good.” johnny sighs, letting his hand drop and melting into the couch.

“you made a mess.” you giggle when finally pulling the strength to sit up.

johnny lifts his head and looks at his screen, seeing you barely sat up with your wet pussy on display for johnny to see.

“i made a mess?” johnny scoffs with a sexy smirk. “look at the mess you made.” you smile at him and shake your head.

“i can’t believe i got off to your voice, again.” you groan and grab your phone. “again?” johnny laughs and sits up, grabbing a few tissue from the table near him and cleaning himself up.

“is that my—wow, johnny. you’re gonna make fun of me for getting off on your voice but you’re jerking off with my panties that i’ve been looking for for a month!”

“well, i couldn’t bring you so i improvised.” johnny says a defensive tone. “whatever.” you laugh and shake your head in disbelief.

shuffling can be heard from johnnys side. “geez, it’s already one in the morning.” johnny says as he flips on a light. “already? it feels like we just got on the phone.” you frown and roll off the couch, making your way to the bathroom.

“we’ve been on the phone for over an hour, babe.” johnny says with a laugh. “it felt shorter but anyway, i’m gonna take a quick shower and i’ll call you back in fifteen.”

“why can’t we just keep calling?” johnny frowns and he flips the lights off and hugs his pillow. “because i need my phone to play music so i can karaoke.” you start the shower. “i bought you an ipad, laptop, and second phone for a reason.”

you roll your eyes, propping up your phone on the sink. “you’re so clingy.”

johnny scoffs, “says the one who gets off to my voice.”

you pull off your shirt, “at least i don’t need your boxers to help me do so.” you drop your bra and shirt.

“fuck you.”

you step into the shower. “i love you too.”

AN| hiiii, i know i’ve been really inactive but life is getting so rough right now and it’s really kicking my ass. happy thanksgiving, babies! i love you all and i am very thankful to have a growing account with all those who support and love me and my work. i’m trying my best to write with all my free time but yk sneakylink takes it all up. i know i dragged the end but we don’t talk about it HAHAHSJA. anywho, thank you anon for requesting this!!! happiest thanksgiving! 🩷

[billthedrake]

SUGAR DADDY (PART ONE)

I was cooling down from my run, and I was paying more attention to the traffic light to cross. I almost didn't see them.

But the man saw me, a look of embarrassment sweeping his face before the familiar friendly tone won out.

"Luke?" he said.

"Mr. Keenan," I replied automatically, as if the recognition was coming out of my mouth before it hit my brain. Mr. Keenan was my buddy Rich's dad, a successful corporate lawyer or something. I know Rich had issues with his father, made even worse by his parent's divorce, but Mr. K was always beyond nice to me. And truth be told, I always found him incredibly attractive. Tall, handsome, salt and pepper coming in on the temples, kind of like a TV dad. Even now he was in a nice-cut navy suit, dress shirt and no tie.

His blue eyes were taking me in. It had been over three years since I'd last seen the man, since high school graduation, and I'm sure I looked different now. "I almost forgot you went to school here," he said. "Georgetown?" he prompted.

"Yes, sir. They haven't kicked me out yet," I smiled in my self-deprecating way.

It was then that I noticed the woman standing next to him. She couldn't have been any older than me. She was pretty, real pretty, with that sorority girl look. Straight blond hair and big tits for a girl with her trim frame. At least they showed off well in that spaghetti strap cocktail dress she had on. Her high heels didn't get her close to Mr. K's 6'3" height but they added a couple of inches.

I now had a pretty good idea why Rich's parents got divorced.

The man's date was good at hiding her annoyance at my presence but not good enough that I couldn't see that she wanted to get on to where they were going. Part of me couldn't blame her. It was fall, the evening was cool, and she was underdressed for it.

Mike Keenan realized where I was looking and that embarrassed look came back on his face. "Luke, this is Kimberly..." he turned to his girlfriend or date or whatever. "Luke's from back home," he explained. Almost with an emphasis of meaning.

Turning back to me. "We should go, buddy... but it's great running into you, Luke."

"You, too, Mr. Keenan," I said. It was only then that I was self conscious about standing on a busy Georgetown sidewalk in my sweat-drenched running clothes, the cool getting to me now that the exercise was wearing off.

He flashed his trademark smile, like he always did when I came over. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, deftly extracting a business card. "I'm in DC a few nights a week these days. Reach out and we'll catch up, OK?"

"Sure thing, Mr. K," I said, taking the card in my fingers.

Then I watched as my friend's dad and his college-aged girlfriend went walking on to their date spot.

****

"I was gonna ask if you can keep things under wraps about Kimberly," Mr. Keenan said as we waited for our burger at a nice but not overly fancy bistro that DC seemed to have a ton of. I'd met Mr. K closer to his hotel, just two nights after running into him.

"Oh yeah, sure," I said. If the man had asked me to give an alibi to the police for something I probably would have. I mean, Mike Keenan always was great to me, encouraging me in my baseball playing and even helping me out with college admissions stuff, since my folks were more blue collar. His dating life was really none of my business, but I felt like it was conversation worthy. "How long have you two been dating?"

He squirmed in his seat and sighed. "A while... not too long..." he said then gave me a long hard look. "Listen, Luke, you can keep this between us, right?"

The blue eyes and handsome jawline and perfect teeth were gonna make me crush out a little on the man, like I did back in high school. "Absolutely," I replied. Earnest as hell.

He smiled. He could read my sincerity, and I think it amused him. He leaned back and had a soft leer on his face, a side of him I'd never seen. "She's not my girlfriend," he explained. "I met her on one of those sugar daddy sites."

I may have been a dumb jock, but I figured out what he meant pretty quick. "You mean she's a hooker?" I asked. I had to laugh, and Mr. K laughed back.

"No, well, not exactly," he replied. "But there's a little of that, even if we both pretend that's not what's going on." His eyes searched out mine, and I knew he was trying to read if I was freaked out or judgmental. I wasn't, just surprised.

I tried to pass off my shock with a joke. "She expensive?" I said.

He grinned, with a I-can't-believe-you-asked-that look. But he replied anyway. "Very. But I can afford it."

Something about his tone and lecherous nature got me hard. Not chubbed, but full on erect in my jeans.

The man mistook my horniness for a different reaction. "Sorry Luke," he said. "I shouldn't have said that... only you asked."

"No, it's good," I assured him. "Just didn't expect it, is all."

"Fair," he said. He sighed again. "Seriously, Luke, not a fucking word to Rich. Or anyone. I mean it."

"I won't, Mr. K, promise," I assured him. He probably didn't want to talk about it anymore, but I was very curious. "So... how's it work exactly?"

"How's what work?"

"The sugar daddy thing."

He seemed more businesslike. Maybe he enjoyed being able to confide, or maybe he just was humoring me. "I pay for Kimberly's apartment and of course for dates," he explained. "There are gifts, too, but she doesn't make me jump through hoops like some of the others."

I was letting it sink in that this one wasn't Mr. K's first. I knew the guy was loaded, but that kind of money was wild to me.

"Damn, I should get a sugar daddy," I joked.

Without missing a beat, Mr. Keenan shrugged his shoulders and said, "You could. If that's what you wanted."

I blushed. I was still pretty closeted though Rich Keenan knew. Maybe Mike Keenan knew too.

The man seemed to enjoy catching me off guard. "A colleague of mine goes for high-class call boys, but I've been trying to convince him to go for something more legit." This was definitely a new side to Mike Keenan than I'd seen.

He paused. "Sorry, Luke. I'm not really suggesting... You know that, right?" The old Mr. K was back.

"Yeah, Mr. Keenan," I said. I wasn't totally naive, but this evening had already made me feel more green than I wanted.

He held up his empty rocks glass in a gesture for the bartender to bring another. He then turned to me. "You have any special men in your life?"

So Mr. K did know.

I shook my head. "I've hit the apps some," I said with candor. "But no one special."

He patted me on my shoulder, like he used to back when I'd come over to visit Rich. Like a buddy or a dad. "Well, you've grown into a fine young man, Luke Bowman. I'm sure that someone special will come soon... maybe when you're not expecting it."

OK, I was more than a little crushed out.

***

Something about seeing Mr. Keenan was a spark in my life that I needed. I'd spent too much of my college years scared. Scared of getting out there, of meeting men. I liked men who were older. Coach types, though that was out of bounds and not realistic. But I changed the age range on my app profile and decided I was going to be open to engaging with men who turned me on there.

It was hit or miss. I heard from some real obnoxious guys. I went on some dates with a really fucking hot doctor who was great sex but then basically ghosted me. I had a couple of hookups that were good for what they were.

I wasn't being a man-whore exactly, but I enjoyed making up for lost time a little.

Strangely Mr. K became my confidante. I don't know why I thought the man would be homophobic, hell maybe deep down he was, but we each shared a secret with the other. And once he was back in DC for business that spring, I met him every other Wednesday for burgers and beer, depending on my game schedule. I got the increasing feeling that he valued his time with me, since he and Rich didn't get along well these days. The man carried a lot of guilt for his broken marriage, but he'd be the first to admit that he'd probably do the same thing all over again.

"Buddy, college girls are the best," he leered one Spring night as we finished our meal. Mr. K let his hair down a LOT with me these days. "I know they don't do anything for ya, Luke, but Jesus, fuck..."

I laughed. I knew Mike Keenan was a grade-A horndog and probably not a good man in that way, but I enjoyed seeing his naughty side.

"You ever think about dating one for real, Mr. K?" I asked. For most of our meetings, it had been mostly my buddy's dad asking me about my life, but it was just now getting to the point where I felt like I could ask personal questions like this.

He shook his head. "It wouldn't work. Besides, I wouldn't do that to Rich." It was a strangely profound admission.

I gulped. Yeah, I could see it from my buddy's perspective, having a stepmother his age, or younger even.

"That's cool, Mr. Keenan. But you gotta live your life, too," I said.

That caught the man off guard. He looked at me then smiled. He reached over and ruffled my hair. "You really think that, dont ya?" he asked.

I nodded, embarrassed.

He grinned. "Don't worry, kiddo. I'm enjoying my middle age years. A little too much."

"With Kimberly?" I prompted. He hadn't mentioned her in a while.

"I called off that arrangement," he said bluntly. "She wanted more."

"A ring?" I laughed. I didn't get straight people, not really, but at the same time they were my entire world.

That leer returned to the man. "No. More money. I'm taking a break for now."

"How long will that last?" I teased.

"Dunno. A month. Maybe two. Till I get horny again."

"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have to wait that long to get laid, Mr. K."

It was meant as a playful comment, at least in my head. But the second it came out I realized I'd said too much. That Mr. Keenan could read everything in my face, everything I'd kept hidden. How attracted I was to him, how crushed out I was on him, how jealous I was of Kimberly or whatever sorority chick he was banging.

The look on the man's face could now see it all.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I started getting a panic attack. I stood up from the bar stool. "I should go," I said.

A hand reached out and gripped my forearm. Mr. K's grip was surprisingly strong. "Luke. It's OK."

Somehow, his understanding made it worse. I shook my head and broke free. "Sorry," I muttered. Then made a beeline for the door.

I felt dumb and intensely vulnerable as I walked to the bus stop. I'd messed up this friendship thing I had with Mike Keenan, but maybe it was fucked up that I was hanging out with my friend's dad like this in the first place. No maybe about it: it was majorly fucked up.

I was a block away from the stop when I got a text.

"Can I convince you to come back, Luke?" the man wrote. "I get it buddy."

I knew the smart thing would be to keep walking. To send a polite no thanks reply. Or just ignore the text. Instead I typed. "Yes Mr. K." And I walked back to the restaurant.

Mike Keenan was standing outside, looking handsome as fuck in his expensive suit. He had a worried look on his face, and I knew immediately he'd dashed out after me but didn't know which way I went.

His face brightened when he saw me. "We don't have to stay here," he said. "I settled up."

"Oh," I said. "Sorry..." I started to apologize, but he stopped me.

"You were honest," he said directly, blunt but still friendly. "Besides, what man doesn't like to hear he's attractive?"

I gave a wan smile and hunched my shoulders in a shrug. "A lot of straight men, I imagine."

I couldn't tell if Mike Keenan was just humoring me. He had a look of sympathy on his face for sure as he reached out and patted my arm. "How bout this? No labels between us, Luke?"

I didn't get what he was saying exactly, but I knew it was meant to reassure me. I nodded.

"Feel like coming to my hotel?" he asked. "We can just talk."

"Yeah." I was feeling a ton of emotions coursing through me. But I wanted more Mr. K time. "Sounds nice."

That seemed to relax him and put him in a good mood as we walked the few blocks to the nice, business-class residence hotel where he was staying. I couldn't help but sneak looks over his way. He just looked incredible in his suit, not a trim cut one like younger guys sometimes wore but it still flattered his build and height. In my mind, the suit made him look like one of those DC power players and in some messed up way that turned me on.

We weren't too chatty as he led me up to his room. It was fancy to my eyes but had that empty aura that hotel rooms do, even if Mr. K's luggage and belongings were around.

I was looking around the place when the man stepped up right behind me and wrapped his arms around my midsection. I smelled his cologne and felt his kisses along my neck. I guess we were going to do more than just talk.

"Oh, God, Mr. K," I hissed. This probably a record time for how fast I could throw hard. That boner was nearly instant.

"You can call me Mike," he said.

"OK," I said dumbly.

His hands traveled up and down my T-shirt. I was primed to be turned on by this man, but he was going to put me in heat.

"You OK with this, buddy?"

"You have no idea, Mist.. Mike" I replied.

My slip up got a chuckle from him. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of my shirt and the touch of his hand against my belly felt electric. "You have an amazing body, Luke."

"You too, sir," I replied.

He kissed some more along my neck and his voice got deeper, hoarser. "Do you suck cock, Luke Bowman?"

The grunt from the man was an indication I'd said the right thing. "I don't know that I'm good for all the other stuff," he said, "but I'd REALLY love to feel your mouth on me, buddy."

I knew what he meant. The man wasn't going to reciprocate, and I'd have to be fine with that. I was. "I don't need anything in return, Mike," I said. "I want to suck you."

He had that huge horndog grin on his face when I finally turned to face him. We were matched in height but he felt like my opposite in so many ways. Older, successful in his career, straight, though I was getting the fuller meaning of his "no labels" comment.

Especially as his face inched in and his lips met mine. I was kissing Rich Keenan's dad and the forbidden nature of that just added to my thrill. I took a second to feel up his sides, under the suit coat. Mr. K didn't object, he just went deeper with the kiss. Mike Keenan was a great kisser.

"You're a very handsome young man," Mr. K finally said as he pulled back.

"God, Mike," I grunted. This was every JO fantasy I'd had coming to life.

With that naughty look on his face, he reached down and started unzipping. I didn't even look down, not yet, but I could tell from his shoulder motion that he was hauling out his cock.

"Please, buddy," he hissed.

"Here?" I asked dumbly. In my hookups before BJs had been naked and on a bed.

"Here," he growled. This was that other side of Mr. K, the kind who hired sugar babies to get his needs taken care of.

I squatted down. I was a catcher for the Hoyas baseball team, so at least I had this motion down, I thought to myself.

Mike Keenan's cock was gorgeous. Big and meaty and cut but not overly long. It jerked and pulsed as he looked down on me.

"You done this before, right?" he asked. That concerned paternal voice coming out.

I nodded. "Some," I replied. "I wish I had more practice." Then with an honesty I probably shouldn't have had, I added, "I want this to be good for you, Mike."

He chucked and moved his hand to run through my hair. It was strangely affectionate. "You'll do great, buddy."

That was all the encouragement I needed. Leaning in, I could smell the mild, natural musk of a man's crotch, which was matched by Mr. K's saltiness as I began licking him. I gripped the base of his prick to steady it for my sucking, but I maybe didn't even need to do that. Mike was rock hard.

"Yes..." he hissed as I went down on him. I was still pretty green at sucking cock, but I was probably better than Kimberly or whatever sugar baby he'd lined up in the past. Or even the former Mrs. Keenan, I thought crudely.

That knowledge had me going for it. I swallowed four inches of the man in one go, held just a second to let my throat get used to it. Then I started going up and down. It took a second for me to get my rhythm and another for me to get the suction. But I knew I did by the urgency of the man's fingers in my hair, not exactly pushing me down on his crotch but aiding and guiding me in my bobbing motion. He was probably thinking of some chick while I blew him, but I was OK with that.

Only his next words broke me of that idea. "Luke, buddy... you're getting me there," he hissed. Mr. K was very present in this blowjob. I paused a second and looked up at him, and could see he was looking down at me.

I wanted to get him off. So I looked back forward and went for it. The best I could deliver. I hoped it was enough.

The fingers grew tighter. "Gonna cum... Don't pull off," Mike growled. "Please."

At that moment I felt bad for straight men. Even if I should have felt bad that Mr. K wasn't gonna suck me. I just felt any woman was stupid not to want to swallow Mike Keenan's cum.

"UNNFH!" came the sound of his release as he flooded my mouth and throat with his salty-sweet cum. Maybe Mike was backed up, but he was a heavy shooter all right. I accepted it all, swallowing it in waves as quickly as he fed it to me. I think my sucking sensation only added to his orgasm. He finally pulled out, prick wet and still hard.

"God fucking damn, buddy, that was great," he said with a satisfied smile. Then as he caught his breath and I stood up, he added, "Can I jerk you off or anything?"

That sounded great. "You got any lube?"

He nodded and walked over to the bathroom to root around his toiletries bag. He stepped back in, his prick softer but still sticking out. With a grin, he tossed me travel container of lube. "Don't be shy," he said.

I was already undoing my shorts, which fell to the floor. Then I peeled down my underwear, letting Mike see my hardon. It was a trip for me, being mostly naked in front of him. Maybe he wasn't gonna be fully gay for me, but he was open to seeing my dick as I squirted the liquid on my stalk and start stroking.

With a grin he stepped up to me, a little to the side, placing his hand on my belly and working up beneath my shirt as he met me for a kiss.

That's all it took. I didn't come instantly but instantly I began that climb to orgasm. Mr. Keenan's kiss and touch was the extra stimulation to get me there.

I moaned into his mouth as I shot my cum, shooting out onto the hotel carpet.

He broke the kiss when I was done and patted my chest. "You needed that, buddy," he said with satisfaction.

"I did," I nodded. "Thanks."

Things felt a little awkward now. I'd crossed some major lines with this guy that evening, and now that I'd gotten off I felt majorly self conscious about it.

"You OK, Luke?" he asked as we tucked back in.

"I'm OK, Mr. Keenan."

"You can NEVER tell Rich about what just happened," he said.

"You know I'm gonna keep everything private," I said. "You can trust me."

He nodded. "Why don't you get cleaned up. Feel like a drink? I have some scotch here or you can raid the mini bar."

I nodded. "I don't know anything about scotch, but you can teach me."

He chuckled. "All right."

It felt nice to just talk. Mr. K let me open up, about men and being gay and what I really wanted from dating and sex. The man talked about his very limited experience with guys when he was a teen.

"I should have figured men would be better at giving head," he said with a playful leer. "That was incredible, Luke. For real."

"I'm glad," I said. Maybe this wasn't a healthy hookup, but it had felt incredibly satisfying for me, a dream come true.

"You're going to make some dude VERY happy," he said with a smile.

"I hope so," I said with a defensive chuckle. "I hope he makes me happy too."

Mr. Keenan got what I meant. "Yeah, you deserve that," he said a little chastised. He polished off the last of his liquor in the rocks glass. "Listen, it's been a long day."

"Yeah, I'll head off," I said, drinking the rest of my scotch and standing up.

Mr. K pulled his walled out and fished out a couple of twenties. "Here you go... you're not taking the bus back. Especially at this hour."

I tried not to take it. "It's Ok, Mike," I said.

He shook his head. "Just get a fucking Uber, Luke. I insist."

"OK," I said, capitulating. The man could be bossy, and I didn't know whether I liked that or not.

He was quieter now, as he led me to the door but he said before I stepped out. "I'm gonna sleep like a baby tonight, buddy. Thanks."

"You too, sir."