#all that pent up anger would just come out sexually i think

[sturnioloho]

i love when matt outs himself

[jen-with-a-pen]

𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦

summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

word count: 6.5K

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.

If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is. 

Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter–  to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day. 

You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.

When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.

Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.

After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.

You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week. 

With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.  

Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together. 

Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”

The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival. 

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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’ 

“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door. 

“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.

You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.

Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger. 

“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.

It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder. 

The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit. 

“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.

“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip. 

Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing. 

“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.

You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.  

“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.

Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.

“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”

“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink. 

Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it. 

You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time. 

You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell. 

Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.

The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.

“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear. 

“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”

White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.

He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.

“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.

His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.

You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below. 

With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.

“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost. 

“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape. 

“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”

He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully. 

“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.

“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.

“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”

He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.

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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium. 

There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form. 

Your face burned.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.” 

He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.

♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.

You swallowed a groan. 

“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear. 

“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”

“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”

“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”

Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours. 

“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.” 

You wanted to take his finger and break it.  

You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.

You doubted it was convincing.

“Fine.” 

He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion. 

When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.

“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”

“When the hell did you–”

“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.

“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance. 

He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.

The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles. 

“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.

Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.

It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike. 

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The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”

“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. 

Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–

“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously. 

“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side. 

“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.

“Because there’s only one fucking bed?” 

“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.

You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”

His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward. 

You swallowed. “You heard me.”

One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard. 

Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body. 

“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.

“Look at me!” 

“No! Fuck– Get off me!” 

With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.

You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.

“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.” 

His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”

You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone. 

“Is that all, Sergeant?” 

His Adam's apple bobbed.

“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.

“You heard me.” 

The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged. 

“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.

“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”

Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.

“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you. 

And you let him.

“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.

“Holy–fuck, holy shit.” 

Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why. 

He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your heart stopped.

“You’re telling me.”

Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door. 

Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy. 

Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.

Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however. 

He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?” 

You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”

“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.

“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release. 

“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.

“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”

He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”

“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”

“Number fuckin’ one.”

The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core. 

Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.

“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.

He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs. 

“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass. 

SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”

SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”

SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.” 

Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him. 

“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”

You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure. 

“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you. 

“Fuck! Again! Please, again!” 

He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you. 

“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode. 

“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”

“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.

For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile. 

“Thanks.”

He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”

You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”

“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.

“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”

“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.

[smileysuh]

good & bad TEASER

🌙 staring. Kim Mingyu & Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “My new therapist says it’s healthy behavior to let Wonwoo do what he wants to do ever so often,” you explain, watching Wonwoo beat Seungcheol at the arm wrestling and proceed to down two shots in celebration. “I’m not sure how she can think him coming to frats, getting drunk, and getting into pissing contests is healthy, but hey, it’s not my job to counsel power holders.”

tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, dry humping, horny!gyu, dom!wonwoo, Wonwoo tells virgin!Gyu what to do, hand job, Wonwoo using his power to help y/n ride Mingyu, manhandling, size kink, groping, nipple pinching, praise, degradation, voyeurism, pussy stretching, cream pie, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous & baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 8.8k

🍭 aus. superpower au, uni au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I was thirsting for another Meanie fic and I came up with this super power, I'd never seen it before and I thought it would be fun :)

teaser

“I hate being inside her head.” Wonwoo has never told you this, but most nights, when you go to sleep, he waits for you to be fully passed out before coming out again. He sits on the couch, watches anime- Mingyu’s gotten on his case for it a number of times, but Wonwoo hates boredom like he hates sand, hot weather, and the way Mingyu hums to himself when he cooks for you. “I don’t like being inside,” Wonwoo states again, more firmly this time.

“If you had your preference, how often would you be out?”

The answer comes quickly, “A hundred percent of the time.”

“And this is not something you can talk about with y/n?”

“It would make her uncomfortable,” Wonwoo says. “She never talks about it, but- she’d never had a proper relationship, she can’t with two dudes in her head or hanging around all day. I bet she can’t even touch herself without worrying me or Mingyu will pop out- I can imagine it would be very uncomfortable, and if I asked to be out all the time, it would put even more pressure on her. I don’t want that.”

“You care about her a lot.”

Wonwoo doesn’t see the need in responding.

The therapist clicks her pen. “Do you often think about these things? About… y/n’s sexual restrictions due to you and Mingyu?”

A wave of heated anger flashed over Wonwoo’s skin at the question. “I’m not a fucking pervert.”

“I never said you were, I’m just trying to understand the way this unique power affects that aspect of y/n’s life, of your life. Humans are sexual beings, and repression of desires like that can lead to anyone being pent up and frustrated.”

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👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr Friday, July 26th, 2024

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[imfinereallyy]

“Steve, it’s an emergency. I need to kiss you. Actually, I need you to kiss me. But I can’t just do it without asking because what if you don’t want me to, and I practically attack you? So yes or no? I swear it’s for a good cause.” Eddie comes running up to Steve in the bar, panting so hard Steve can see the chest movements.

They have taken Robin to a bar out in Indy to get her laid finally. Or at least a tongue in her mouth. The girl is pent up. And it’s Steve’s job as best friend to make that happen (Robin has told him to stop saying that, ‘it is gross’). Eddie is the only other queer person they know and, luckily, has made quite a few trips to Indy to know which bars were the good ones. He tells Steve that, like Robin, he is desperate to get laid, so this is the perfect opportunity.

Steve does his best to try and ignore the burning jealousy he feels at that. Eddie doesn’t know about his feelings (hell about his sexuality), and Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn’t see him that way.

“Huh?” Asks confused, his brain struggling to process.

“Okay, I see you’re stuck on how to answer, but Steve—“ Eddie grips Steve’s shoulder, and Steve tries not to swoon. “—my ex, the extra shitty one, is here, and if he sees me alone I’ll either a) go home with him tonight and—“

Steve cuts Eddie off with a searing kiss. The thought of Eddie going home with someone else was enough for Steve’s brain to catch up to speed. Steve presses Eddie against the bar. The loud bass of the music suddenly becomes a light thrum in the background. All that he feels is the delightful pressure of their lips together. Eddie’s hands slide up into Steve’s hair as he gets pressed harder into the bar. Steve’s hands' grip Eddie’s waist and give them a tight squeeze. The idea of bruises being left behind, a mark of what they are doing here, makes Steve deepen the kiss. His tongue used to massage Eddie’s, tasting the menthol and rum on his breath. Eddie moans loud and heavy, vibrating Steve’s entire body.

“Eddie?” A voice interrupts them. Steve feels his anger spark back slightly but wills it down because the interruption is probably needed. They are very close to getting kicked out for public indecency.

“Oh hey, Ryan.” Eddie looks the blonde man up and down. He’s cute, Steve notes, but he lacked personality in his appearance. He isn’t what Steve expects from an ex of Eddie’s. He isn’t naive enough to think Eddie dates exclusively metal heads, but he expects someone to match Eddie’s energy. This guy—Ryan apparently—looks like every other guy you’d find on a Sunday in Supermart. Boring and lacking imagination.

“Who’s this?” Ryan looks at Steve pissed.

“Steve?” Eddie wraps an arm around his waist, bringing Steve close up against him. “This is my boyfriend.”

“This dude’s your boyfriend?” Ryan snorts. “C'mon baby, I know you can do better.”

Steve feels his anger finally pop. “He is not your baby. Yea, he can do better than both of us combine, but I’m lucky enough to get him. Now, you interrupted our time together, and we both know you saw what we’re up to, so don’t act like it wasn’t on purpose.”

Ryan startles backwards, “I—“

“Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear. I meant leave the fuck right now.” Steve grits out, some of his Upside Down protection mode popping out. Ryan scatters quickly.

“Jesus, Steve, that was amazing. I’m sorry I had to make you uncomfortable with that.” Eddie’s eyes find his and cuts Steve off before he can protest and explain no, he really did like that “—and you never even let me explain reason b, by the way! Reason b is b) he would probably humiliate me in the middle of the club.”

Steve nods at Eddie but has one track mind at this point. He grabs Eddie by the face this time before crashing their lips together once again. This time Steve moans into Eddie’s mouth as they both get lost in the kiss.

Steve pulls back ever so slightly and talks directly into Eddie’s mouth, “Sorry. I think he’s still staring. Needed to do more.”

Eddie, with swollen lips and a kissed-out face, looks around the bar to find nothing. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

Steve smirks and pulls Eddie by his belt loops so they are flushed together. Steve leans into Eddie’s ear and nibbles at his lobe. “Hmmm, you’re right. I think he’s actually in the bathroom. Maybe we should kiss in front of him there.” Steve whispers hotly.

Eddie’s brain, which has short-circuited much like Steve only minutes ago, finally catches up. Eddie groans, his face collapsing into Steve’s neck. He licks a stripe up Steve’s neck all the way to his mouth. “Fuck. Yea, baby, I think I saw him too. Think kissing, though, won’t be enough. We might need to up our game.”

Steve nips at Eddie’s lips, “I was hoping you would say that. Guess I just know how much you love your games, Eds.”

They meet each other for one last searing kiss before rushing to the bathrooms to share a very tight, very heated stall.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Too Good to Say Goodbye

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cursing, Hurt/Comfort & Implied Smut, MAJOR TW: stillborn

Summary: Y/N is tired of constantly being dissed by Logan and he doesn't seem to care, at least not until it's too late.

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I Part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10

F1 Masterlist

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I clasp my jacket closer to my body as I wait for Logan to open the door of our shared apartment. It's pouring rain and my dumbass forgot the keys, I sigh as I pull my phone out, dialing my lovers number.

one ring

two rings

three rings

four- declined.

*new text from "Logie Bear🐻💙"*

Logie Bear🐻💙: Babe I'm on the sim, give me a few.

Me: I'm out here in the pouring rain and I left my key, You said you'd unlock the door 5 minutes ago.

Logie Bear🐻💙: You fucking made me crash.

Logie Bear🐻💙: I'm coming.

A scoff leaves my lips as I shove my phone into my soak jean pockets that stuck to my skin, a few minutes later I hear the lock click and the door swigs open revealing a less than happy Logan.

"Damn, were you watching our home videos while waiting for me to open the door?" Logan laughed as he took in a soaked me before side stepping so I could walk in.

"I've been outside for 10 fucking minutes in the pouring rain Logan and you're making jokes?" I almost screamed at him

Unbelievable, all I do for him and this is how he treats me?

"Woah babe, take a joke," Logan starts before his phone starts ringing "Yeah? Oh for sure, right now? Uh huh, Okay I'll hop on. Yup yup, just give me 5. I'm grabbing a snack" with that Logan hung up the phone "I'm hoping back on the sim with the boys, so just take a shower and dry the floors, you're ruining the wood."

I wanted to scream, I'm ruining the floors? I wouldn't be ruining the floors if you would've opened the door 10 minutes ago like you fucking said you would.

I made my way into our shared room, grabbing my clothes and speaker before making my way to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, I connected my phone to the speaker and started playing "Hold Me While You Wait" by Lewis Capaldi on a low volume before stripping out of the soaking wet clothes that stuck to my skin.

My shaking hand turned the tap to hot as the water started spurting out of the shower head, which made me sigh thinking about the shower head I gave Logan every time we showered together. Today makes 3 weeks since we last fucked, and that was also probably why I'm so aggravated at everything he does. All this pent up sexual tension between us is driving me crazy.

Before stepping into the now steamy shower I turned the volume up on the song currently playing. Once in the tub, I let all my problems wash off of me and down the drain as I let the boiling hot water hit my skin. After what felt like 3 minutes of pure bliss, I hear a faint knock at the door before hearing it open. Peaking my head out the shower curtain I'm greeted by Logan just standing by the door.

"Hey Logie, care to join me?" I said in a low & seductive voice, watching as he steps fully into the bathroom and closes the door. A victory smile makes its way on my lips as I pull myself behind the curtain once more, quickly lathering myself in foamy soap.

I can hear Logans footsteps getting closer to the shower, but instead of getting in I hear him pick up my phone, turn the volume down, set my phone back down and as he's leaving he mutters "Not tonight. Boys are on the game and i can’t focus on them because your depressing songs are too loud."

Are you fucking kidding me?

That had been my last straw. In one quick movement I turn off the shower, throw my robe on and march out of the bathroom and into his sim room.

"Are you fucking kidding me Logan?!" I shout as a burst in the room, face red from anger. I can hear a mix of muffled oohs, laughs and you're in trouble. I couldn't bring myself to care about anyone on the sim with him.

"Hey! I'm on the sim! Watch your tone!" Logan shouted back, earning him a glare that said turn your fucking simulator off now.

"We're gonna have a serious talk. Now" I said in a stern voice. That made Logan turn the game off and actually face me

"What the fuck do you want to talk about that you bust into my sim room and interrupt me when I'm on with my friends WHO HAPPEN TO BE A COWORKERS?!" Logan shouted, his beautiful face now a shade of red that no-one liked, his eyes as cold and sharp as ice.

“I WANT TO TALK ABOUT YOU. YOURE BEHAVIOR, THE WAY YOU’VE BEEN ACTING TOWARDS ME, THE WAY YOU DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME ANYMORE, DO YOU EVEN STILL FUCKING LOVE ME?!” I tried to stop, I really did but all the anger built up inside of me over the last few weeks just started pouring out “WHATS BEEN GOING ON WITH YOU LOGAN? YOU’RE NOT YOURSELF AND ITS EFFECTING ME, YOU KEEP SHUTTING ME OUT, AND MAKING ME FEEL BAD ABOUT MYSELF! AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU ANYMORE? HUH!?” the more I screamed at him and the more I cried, I saw not one bit of remorse in his eyes.

“Are you fucking done being dramatic now?” Logan says with a scoff “Nothing is fucking wrong with me. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you’re the problem? No, you haven’t because you think so highly of yourself. You think that you’re the fucking shit and you’re not!” his words hit me like a punch to the gut.

the tears welling up in my eyes, now falling like heavy rain down my face. “You’re not the Logan I fell in love with,” my breath shaky “I don’t know who you are. I want my Logan back. I want the Logan who came to all my wrestling matches, the Logan who regularly took me out on dates despite his hectic work schedule, I want my Logan who got mad at me when I paid for dinner because ‘it’s a man’s job to pay for his girls meal’, the Logan who always took me to his races and showed me off like I was a rare jewel he found,” the waterfall beneath my eyes couldn’t stop me from staring into his soul while i said this last part “I miss my Logan who stood by me when we had our miscarriage” That seemed to get a reaction out of him.

“You have the fucking nerve to bring up MY baby. Don’t you EVER bring up MY baby like that again. You HAVE NO RIGHT.” Logan said tearing up

“YOURE BABY? HE WAS MINE TOO. IT WASNT JUST YOU THAT LOST A BABY, IT WAS ME TOO. HOW DO YOU THINK I FELT PUSHING OUT OUR BABY KNOWING HE WAS DEAD? I WANTED TO FUCKING KILL MYSELF LOGAN. I FELT LIKE I FUCKING FAILED YOU AND OUR SON.”

“MAYBE YOU FUCKING SHOULD’VE KILLED YOURSELF. HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF THAT?! IF YOU KILLED YOURSELF I’D BE SO MUCH BETTER OFF.” a sob escaped my lips as Logan finishes talking. “You act like I can’t find someone else, like I can’t impregnate another woman. You’re nothing but another piece of ass to me, that couldn’t fucking keep my son alive in you.”

Logan storms out of the room, slamming the door as he goes.

“Well, I’m so glad you told me this now because I’d HATE for our DAUGHTER to be in a house where her dad thinks so lowly of her mother!” I scream while I barge into our shared room, grabbing a suitcase and filling it up with all my shit I can fit in it.

Soft footsteps make their way to the room, stopping just before the door. Slowly I hear the door open and see Logan slowly walking in.

“what did you say?” he asks me in disbelief “did you say ‘Our Daughter’?”

“YEAH IM FUCKING PREGNANT AGAIN BUT SINCE IM JUST ANOTHER PIECE OF ASS TO YOU, IM FUCKING LEAVING AND YOURE NOT GONNA FUCKING SEE HER.” I yell, closing up the suitcase and heading for the door before feeling a tug on my wrist

“no baby, please. I’m sorry, i’m so sorry. let me make it all up to you and be in her life. i’ll change, I’ll be better, I’ll do anything to get you back.” tearing now streaming down Logan face

“I’ll be back in the morning to get the rest of my shit.” I said before tugging my wrist back and slamming the door shut behind me.

pt2 maybe?

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed !!

@forevercaffeinated-lee

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[ariasakka]

Enji in bed 18+ MDNI

How would Enji be in bed? Post+pre atonement arc. Here’s what I think.

I think how he would be sexually before and after his “atonement arc” would contrast each other quite a bit.

Reader notes:

2k words. Not an experienced writer just have lots of creative thoughts I must get out of my overfilled brain.

Warning. My pre atonement Enji headcannon is rough and aggressive obviously so please do not read this if it will upset you. Post atonement I actually think he’d be quite sweet. Feel free to just skip to the post atonement arc Enji part if you prefer.

You can find all my Enji stories under the hashtag EnjiAria

During marrige-pre atonement:

Kinks. He most definitely probably has breeding kink and is rough. Definitely also has a “daddy”or “yes sir” name calling kink. He probably likes degrading his partner a bit in bed as well. Has a dacryphilia kink. Power imbalance kink. During his younger years/before his marriage becomes estranged he likes degrading.

Enji never liked to show his anger outside of his own home. He would often come home with pent up anger from his hero work and needed someone to take it out on. He usually liked relieving his stress sexually with Rei. Enji likes to start out being rough, then make you cum, then end with roughness again. He’ll start out fucking her roughly, not letting her have time to adjust to his length or girth, hearing her scream as he thrusted too fast and too deep for her. Pressing down on her back (if she was on her stomach) or hips (if she was on her back) to hold her in place. Watching tears form as she desperately tried to take him. He basked in her pain. He was also very experienced and always knew how to make a woman finish. Though it is no lie he does like quite a bit of pain and aggression he will never finish a session without making his partner cum. If they don’t cum he’ll get angry and threaten punishment such as relentless face fucking or anal. After he can tell she’s submitted to him by letting him roughy have his way with their hole he’ll reward his partner with an orgasm. He’s good with his fingers. He’ll still pound into his partner roughly but use his fingers to trace circles over your clit to make you cum. He doesn’t go gently, he works at a rough pace with pressure. He loves overstimulating his woman. He wants you to cum fast. As you cum he likes to grab your throat and make you tell him who your pussy belongs to, who your body belongs to, who owns you. Once you’ve finished he picks back up his pace. Balls deep slapping against you relentlessly. He’ll continue this pace, slap your ass and pull your hair until he finishes. As he fills you up he’ll tell you how perfect you are to breed. Once he finishes he’ll leave you there on the bed and go about his day with less stress now.

His dirty talk pre atonement era:

“You look so good carrying my children, it shows me who you belong to. You belong to me.”

“Take it, I’m going to keep giving you babies over and over again until your body breaks.”

“Crying already? You say you can’t take it but you always end up cumming so hard from this. You’re so filthy. You love it when I show you who you belong to don’t you.”

“That’s it, take it. Rip that cunt open on my cock. Let me breed you.”

“You’re such a worthless whore the least you can do is give me this.”

“I always love breaking you in.”

“Shh stop screaming it’ll only make daddy go harder.”

“If you don’t cum on me right now I’ll fuck your other hole and I’m not talking about your throat sweetheart.”

“You should thank me for getting you pregnant”

Outside of the sex he still liked intimidating his wife. Making sure she knew where she stood. Gripping her arm tightly when she displeased him. Not allowing her to leave the house or wear certain clothing. Watching her obey him out of fear turned him on. It always made him hard and she knew it. She could see it. (Later in life he definitely regrets enjoying that.)

Though he was not a good person in his younger years I don’t see him cheating at all oddly. I think he would be loyal and use his wife for sex only. He seems old fashioned I don’t think he would use toys for himself or for his partner. At most he might like tying her hands or her mouth with his work tie. He would also probably forbid his wife from touching herself sexually, wanting himself to be the only one to give her pleasure or pain. He wanted this for a few reasons, he was possessive and insecure she wasn’t allowed to think of anything but him. He also wanted her to always be able to get wet easily whenever he needed to relieve stress, get off, or breed her, he feared if she pleasured herself on her own she wouldn’t be able to take him as easily. If he ever found out she touched herself he punished her by bending her over his knee and spanking until she was in tears. Then making her get on her knees to apologize profusely before ordering her to suck him dry.

Hear me out…I’m so sorry but I feel like he’s obsessed with receiving rimming. Especially when he’s too exhausted to do too much to you. He would love just laying back gripping his fingers in your hair guiding your tongue over his ass while his legs are spread open. Or closing his thighs berrying your face in him causing you to go deeper into his ass.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Post atonement era Enji:

First off he most definitely immediately got divorced. He felt immense regret for how he treated his wife and wants her free from him. He still holds love for her. He was never in love with her but he wants her to be happy he can’t move on and grow if they are still together either he fears it would make him revert back to his old ways. He built a new home for Rei and his kids to live in. He has as little contact with them as possible for their own sakes. He does his best to continue his growth in every way he can..including sexual.

Outside of marriage after the divorce Enji is gentle, sweet, no breeding kink but still very dominate.

Kinks. Praising, overstimulation.

Dacryphilia kink. (From pleasure not pain)

Caretaking/caregiving. Daddy kink.(not age play just likes taking care of you. By daddy kink I mean the name calling again not age play.)

His type. To me he doesn’t have a spesific type but prefers women smaller than him, tan skin, small or average chest, long hair. Being smaller than him Isn’t hard bc he’s big so almost everyone is smaller than him. If not that exact description he at the very least just prefers women with long soft hair. I could see him taking a liking to both submissive and dominate women but would prefer someone who’s a submissive bottom. Though he doesn’t like being as aggressive in the bedroom anymore he prefers to be the one doing all the work, the one pleasing his woman.

He does not want you to do anything to him. Sucking his dick, rimming, trying to make him come if you’re already finished. He wants everything to be about you. If you want to suck his dick or more you’ll have to beg him. He’ll allow it but only if he can see that you’re getting just as much or more enjoyment out of it than him.

He has deep regrets for how rough he was with Rei’s body. As a way to atone for that in his mind he wants to treat his current partner gently. He’s insecure he doesn’t know his own strength in bed, he’s not used to being gentle. Has to have you watching him at all times especially when he’s eating you out he needs to see your face to make sure he’s going a good enough of a job. He needs your approval constantly weather that be through words, moans of pleasure, or your eyes, anything to let him know he’s giving you nothing but pleasure. He would grow to be quite the pleasure dom in his old age. He needs you to cum constantly. He will always make you cum first. He LOVES overstimulating you, making you cum over and over again until you tell him it’s too much. He feels as though he doesn’t deserve to cum after everything he’s done. He would much rather make you cum, it’s enough to satisfy him mentally. Physically that’s a different story. But I do see him liking not finishing. It makes him feel like he’s edging himself and being good for not cuming because it should all be about you anyways.

I see him being with someone quite inexperienced who often can’t handle him going very long or deep so he’ll often not finish. He doesn’t want to finish by himself as he feels like it’s disrespectful to you so he’ll constantly edge himself for days from watching you feel pleasure until he’s finally at his breaking point and can finish as fast as you. He’ll still always make you cum first though.

After his divorce he immediately got a vasectomy he’s too scared of ever having kids again. He still loves filling you with his cum. He’s never used condoms and doesn’t like them. If you want kids he’ll decline but he will roleplay breeding you if you want.

Though he wants to be more gentle now he’s still slightly kinky. He still loves name calling “yes sir” “daddy”. He enjoys making you cry out of pleasure from cumming too much or out of pleasure from him being the first one to make you squirt. He loves light choking, gentle slaps, but nothing that will actually ever hurt you. He’s always constantly looking at your face to make sure you smirk or bite your lip after each slap to assure him that he didn’t go too rough. Dispite his fear that he’ll be too rough he’s actually is a lot more gentle with his partner than he realizes. His touches are so soft and gentle they wouldn’t so much as break an egg yolk. But because his partner is inexperienced they prefer this gentle edge to him. Being with someone inexperienced in my opinion would be a good fit. They wouldn’t push his limits by asking him to go rougher or trying kinkier things. He always fears loosing control and reverting back to his old self. Being with someone who needs him to always be slow and soft will keep him in place and help further his progress.

If his partner was a top he would allow you to have your way with him sometimes but ultimately at the end he would be right back on top of you fucking you on your back. I see him trying to be a bottom to please you but at the end of the day failing because being a top-dom is just in his nature.

Dirty talk post atonement:

“That’s it come on my fingers sweetheart I need to taste you after.”

“You taste so sweet. I can’t get enough. Think I can make you cum a 3rd time baby?”

“Shh let me do everything don’t you think about doing anything for me. Watching you cum is all I need I promise.”

“You feel so good wrapped around my cock sweetheart you’re spoiling daddy with this cunt.”

“Let me fill you up you deserve it after cumming so good for me sweetie.”

“Shh don’t worry daddy won’t go all the way in, I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll go easy. Gentle. I promise.”

“Look at me, keep your eyes on me or I’ll stop licking your pussy.”

“Tsk tsk sweetheart look at me if you want me to keep thrusting. I need to see it in your eyes that I’m doing good.”

“Is it too much? Tell me when you’ve had enough and I’ll stop.”

“Is this okay? Yeah sweetheart…right there? Like that?”

He would ask you not to touch yourself without him. He wouldn’t forbid it. He just wants you to come to him to feel pleasure. He would feel like he’s not doing enough if you feel like you have to use other methods to finish instead of waiting to use his body.

He’s old fashioned so he wouldn’t prefer using toys. Definitely not on himself. He wants you to be able to get you off with his body. Cock, fingers, tongue, nose tracing up and down your clit, anything. He would feel like he’s inadequate if he has to resort to toys to get you off. On the other hand if you wanted him to use toys on you or you using toys on him he wouldn’t decline. He’s wrapped around your finger he would basically do anything you asked no matter what it was.

Outside the bedroom. Preferred to be the provider. Enji loves to spoil you. He doesn’t want you to worry about anything, he has more money than he’s able to spend he would want to spend on you asking you to quit work and just do whatever you want. He wants to see you happy as much as he can. To be honest he does always tend to prefer a domestic relationship him being the provider and you being the homemaker but if he meets someone career oriented he will support them working. Just seeing you happy will turn him on mentally.

I don’t see him getting married again. If he got into another relationship he wouldn’t be expecting it or feel deserving of it. I think his next partner would be serious and life long (unless they ended it I couldn’t see him being the one to break it off) but at the end of the day he would be too worried getting married would make you feel trapped. Ending up being with him for the sake of ease instead of want. He wants you to constantly choose him everyday and not be forced to stay. It’ll reassure him that he’s still making progress.

[dandelions-143]

Obsession

Minho Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Paring: Rich non-idol Minho x Dancer curvy/midsize fem!reader

Word count: 2,685 k

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, you will be blocked if you don’t have an age in your bio or you’re under age. Explicit Content, Sexual Situations, Adult Themes, Substance Use, Strong Language.

Summary: Minho becomes captivated by a dancer named Y/n, feeling an intense connection and possessiveness towards her which leaves Minho coming back for more almost nightly. But is Minhos possessiveness really just that… or is it bordering an obsession.

Minho fell back on the large California king bed. His sweaty back hit the rumpled black silk sheets, causing the fabric to stick to him slightly. He watched as Jisung had a pretty redhead on all fours, taking her from behind. Minho was exhausted, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

He had just finished, so the exhaustion was a relief. All the tension left his body, at least for a while. He was always tense and on edge, and sex was usually the only way to relieve that tight tension.

Minho reached over to the nightstand to grab a pack of cigarettes just as Jisung finished with the girl. “Thanks, that was amazing as always.” Then Jisung fell back on the end of the bed, trying to catch his breath.

The girl got up from the bed, grabbed her clothes and money from Jisungs dresser by the door. “See you boys, same time next week,” she said matter-of-factly. Jisung smiled and nodded in approval, but Minho just stared at the ceiling, taking a long drag from his newly lit cigarette.

A silence fell over the two men before Minho began to chuckle. “You know, if we keep this up, people are going to start thinking we fuck each other as well.” This made Jisung laugh out loud, his big eyes going even rounder than usual. “It’s not like we haven’t come close before. I mean, a threesome is a threesome.” The men just chuckled at themselves.

To many, this would seem very odd: two grown men who are best friends engaging in threesomes with beautiful women and occasionally very handsome men. But to them, it was normal. They lived harsh lives despite the rich and lavish lifestyles of their parents. These moments of sexual intimacy gave them both a way to release any pent-up anger or tension. They couldn't care less how it looked to the outside world. It wasn't a secret, but they did keep it from their families, especially their fathers.

Minho began to sit up to pick up his clothes from the floor. He needed to get home and shower before meeting up with Hyunjin, who had recently been employed by his father. He felt bad for the guy; his life had been a train wreck lately, and Minho wanted to help him as best as he could. “Where are you going?” Jisung asked as Minho pulled on his black boxers.

“I have to go meet up with Hyunjin. Show him the ropes and get him settled in. You know my dad recently hired him as one of his carriers, right?” Minho said, pulling on his shirt and then his pants. Jisung, still lying on the bed, only nodded. “Yeah, let’s hope he does a good job. If he gets caught with that much dope...” Jisung didn't need to finish his sentence; they both knew what would happen. It had already happened to Chan once. Thank God his father was disgustingly rich and had his hands in the police force, or Chan would probably still be rotting in prison.

A thought crossed Minho's mind. Hyunjin didn’t have a wealthy father; he only had his friends and the money he earned himself. Minho wanted to ensure Hyunjin stayed safe. Just as Minho was putting on his shoes, his phone rang. He sighed, not in the mood to talk to anyone except Jisung. But when he saw his father’s name flash on the screen, he answered on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“Mhm… well- oh, okay.”

“Yeah, I’m headed there now. Okay, thanks. Mm, bye.”

Minho hung up the phone and stood from the end of the bed. He turned to Jisung as he tucked in his shirt. “I hope you have a suit. Meet me here around 10 tonight. It seems a business deal we set up went through, and both our fathers were paid very handsomely for it. So they are going to treat us tonight once I’m finished with Hyunjin.”

Jisung sat up at the sound, his pretty, toothy smile showing shamelessly. “What kind of treat are we getting?” He began to get up, the silk sheets sliding off his naked body. “Not sure yet, but I’ll let you know once I find out. I gotta run. See you later.” Just as Minho was slipping out the door, he heard Jisung's phone ringing, knowing it was probably his father calling to tell him the same thing.

After hours of showing Hyunjin how Minho's father liked things done and then actually taking him on a small drug run, he was annoyed and slightly spent. He walked through his front door and there sat Jisung, man splayed on his couch in a black-on-black suit. “Oh come on... it’s not even 10 yet,” Minho groaned when he saw his best friend.

He just was not in the mood to deal with Jisung's sunny disposition. Jisung only smiled widely with a little shrug. “I had nothing else to do, so I got ready and came over to wait on you.” Minho only scoffed and headed to his master bedroom where he could shower and get ready.

After about 20 minutes, Minho emerged in a similar-looking black suit, but he was wearing a crimson red shirt under the suit jacket. It was unbuttoned quite a bit. His hair was slicked back, a few strands falling in his eyes. “Did you ever find out where we are going?” Jisung asked as he got up from the couch, straightening out his suit and running a hand through his hair.

Minho spoke as they left his home and got inside the waiting black car parked in front. “We are going to that gentleman’s club my father just opened a month ago. He said he’s got us a private room together or we can have a private room for each of us. He said to do as we pleased.” Minho had a soft smirk on his face when Jisung giddily clapped his hands, “Hell yeah, I’m so ready to have some boobs in my face.”

Minho chuckled at Jisung, “Do you even know what a gentleman’s club is?” Jisung's smile dropped a bit, “Umm, a strip club?” He spoke slowly, unsure of the answer he was giving. Minho only smiled and looked out the tinted window from his position in the back seat, “Close enough.”

It didn’t take too long to get to the gentleman’s club. The place was in a very expensive part of town, near some of the most high-end hotels and three-star Michelin restaurants. The building itself was rather large, but simple on the outside. More discreet than one would expect, but once the two men stepped inside, the simple and discreet atmosphere was completely gone.

The establishment was VIP only. You had to have a membership to even get in, and that was a lengthy process in itself. But, of course, Minho and Jisung walked right through the doors as if they owned the place. The entire club was lit up with red lights, black velvet furniture, and everything was trimmed in gold.

There was a large stage with a live band playing. Booths covered in red velvet lined the walls and other areas. Each section had a smaller stage with a singular pole in the middle. There was also a bar where people could sit and order drinks. Waitresses were running about taking orders because, of course, you could have an elegant dinner here as well.

Girls were dancing to the music in barely-there lingerie, spinning and twirling on the poles, but none of them were naked, and most looked very put together. Minho heard Jisung whistle and nudge his arm. “This place is… way different from the strung-out strippers we have enjoyed in the past.”

Just then, a petite older woman clad in a very pretty dark green cocktail dress walked up to them. Jisung was instantly enthralled with her. “Will you two follow me? Your room is ready for you.” She turned on her heel to lead them through the crowd and to the back down a dark hallway. As they came to a stop at one of the closed doors, Jisung smiled sweetly at what he assumed was the hostess, “Do you dance as well?” he asked, leaning against the door in the coolest way he could.

Minho shook his head and opened the door, causing Jisung to stumble inside the room. He let out a soft yelp before he fell completely onto the plush carpet of the room. “Damn! Why’d you have to do that! She was gorgeous.” Jisung complained as he got himself up and walked over to the black sofa, plopping down onto the cushions. “She works for your dad, she’s his secretary. I don’t think you fucking the secretary would go over well with him.”

Jisung huffed out an annoyed sigh, “And how do you even know that?” Minho simply tapped the side of his temple, “I pay attention, something you should do more of.” The men were interrupted by a light knock on the door and then two waitresses came in with food and a large bottle of their favorite drinks. Minho politely thanked them as they left. His father must have really made sure they were well taken care of.

Jisung was rattling off about having to wait too long for their private show to start when this sultry, hypnotic beat began to play. The song had a slow, seductive rhythm. The atmosphere in the room shifted, becoming more intimate and charged with a sense of anticipation. Jisung instantly shut up when a very beautiful woman stepped out onto the stage.

Minho's eyes were transfixed on you, your body curvy and soft, with an hourglass figure that moved gracefully to the rhythm of the music. Your skin glowed under the dim, seductive lighting, and every curve was accentuated by the delicate, barely-there lingerie you wore. Your presence exuded confidence and allure, making it impossible to look away.

He felt his heart race as his eyes locked onto yours for the first time. His breath caught in his throat, and it felt as though time had slowed down. Every detail of your appearance, from the delicate curve of your smile to the graceful way you moved, captivated him completely. A warmth spread through his chest, and he couldn't help but be mesmerized by your beauty. It was as if everything else in the room faded away, leaving only you in sharp focus.

“Holy fuck..” Minho heard his best friend exclaim beside him, “She’s gorgeous.” Now Minho was not a possessive person, especially over someone he hasn’t even met. He had only laid eyes on you but, oh man did he want to have you all to himself. He didn’t like the way Jisung was speaking about you.

Minho leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes following every sensual move you made. You could feel both of the men’s eyes on you and this was nothing new to you. Working at this club and other clubs in the past, men were always around, always ogling you, always stupidly drooling over you like they had never seen a woman before.

But what made this encounter different is one of the men was watching you in a way you had never been looked at before. His eyes were extremely pretty and focused, not on your body but, your face. He kept making eye contact with you and it made you feel shy.. you never felt shy.

Minho felt Jisung tap him on the arm with the back of his hand. “Hey, do you think she would be down for more than just a dance?” Jisung was alluding to their usual threesomes they liked to partake in, but Minho was not interested in that. “I think she would be for the right price, you know?” Jisung just kept talking. Minho wanted his friend to just... shut up so he could enjoy you.

When you made eye contact with Minho once more as you dropped to your knees in a sensual move you had done many times before, he muttered, “Ji, get out.” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t sound mad or angry; he just simply told Jisung to leave the room.

Jisung, of course, laughed a little as if he thought Minho was just joking. “What?”

“Leave the room, now.” Minho never took his eyes off you, even as you twirled easily around the pole. “But—” Jisung began, but Minho cut him off, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Jisung, get the fuck out.” He didn’t care where his friend went at this point. He didn’t care if he found another room, stayed at the bar in the main hall, or just simply went home, but he suddenly didn’t want anyone else’s eyes on you... especially not his best friend's.

Jisung let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes dramatically as he stood up from the couch. “Fine, fine, I’m going,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. He took one last glance at the stage, clearly frustrated by the abrupt interruption of their evening. With a huff, he made his way to the door, his footsteps heavy against the plush carpet. As he reached for the handle, he cast a final glance back at Minho, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity flickering in his eyes, before exiting the room and shutting the door behind him with a definitive click.

Minho leaned back, relaxing against the couch just as the first song ended. You moved like this was just another night as the next song began, but you heard the handsome man speak directly to you this time. “You don’t have to dance anymore.” It sounded so sweet... his voice was soft and calming even. Not at all what you expected to come from him.

With his angular face, his sharp pretty eyes, and pouty lips. “Come sit with me.” He wasn’t asking so... since you were being paid for this, you did as he said. As you got closer, you could see a few tattoos peeking out from the collar of his shirt. Before you could plant your curvy, thong-clad ass on the sofa, this man stands, takes off his suit jacket, and places it around your shoulders... to cover you up.

This was not normal... not for you... and not while you were working. Even though this wasn’t a place where the women got naked on stage, you never wanted to cover up. “You don’t like what you see?” you asked, trying to sound a bit playful but also trying to see exactly what this man was doing. If he wasn’t here to see your body, then why the fuck was he here?

You watched as his pouty lips quirked to the side in the most adorable little smirk. “I actually love what I see, but I can’t concentrate and talk to you when your body is just… out for me like that.” You raised a brow at him, a questioning look on your face. “You want to talk to me?” The question came out in an astonished way.

He simply nodded, “Mm, I’m Minho and you are?” he asked, holding his hand out for you to take. With his suit jacket off now, you saw more of him. His hands were slender but not overly large, and black tattoos peeked out from the sleeve of his button-up. His build, from what you could tell, was muscular but not overly so. The more you looked at him, the more truly handsome you realized he was. His eyes though... they were the best part of him. They were not small but not large. Sharp and dark, they had this sparkle about them... like a fire was lit in them. It made you self-conscious but not in a bad way.

You took his hand, finally, “I'm Y/n.” As your hand met his, a surge of electricity seemed to pass between you both. Minho felt an unexpected warmth and a sense of connection that was almost tangible. The callouses on his hand, a testament to his tough life, contrasted with the softness of your touch, creating a moment of profound intimacy. You, on the other hand, was struck by the firmness and confidence in Minho's grip, feeling a blend of curiosity and a strange comfort. You both were momentarily lost in the sensation, realizing that this simple handshake held the promise of something deeper.

Eventually, you pulled your hand away, almost too swiftly. Your eyes broke away from the intense stare he was giving you. “So...” you slid his jacket from your shoulders, exposing the lacy black lingerie once again, “What do you want? Another dance?” You leaned closer to him, trying to slip back into work mode. “Or... I can do a lot more than dance... your father said to give you whatever you wanted.” You began to slide your hand up his arm, feeling his muscles flexing beneath his deep red dress shirt.

Just as your hand began to cup his cheek, he gently grabbed your hand and placed it down on your lap. “You’re free to go,” he simply said. Minho didn’t look angry; he didn’t look upset... he was calm. You watched as the man stood, a very evident hard-on in his pants, and you could tell he was a bit embarrassed by this. The very first crack in his very cold, hard mask.

As he walked towards the door, he glanced back at you once more, gave you a little nod as if to say thank you, and then he was gone.

He took a moment to lean his shoulder up against the wall just outside the door. What the fuck… Minho thought to himself. He had never felt so many emotions all at once due to a woman. His heart was pounding, his hands were clammy, he couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful you were. It almost made him sick as to how weak in the knees this woman HE DID NOT KNOW made him feel.

Every night for the next two weeks, Minho booked all your time. You didn’t dance for anyone else or in the main hall for the crowd. You only danced in that same private room and only for Minho.

He watched you silently, with a stoic expression, his intense dark brown eyes the only sign of emotion. He never spoke to you again like he did that first night; he just watched, sipping his whiskey or bourbon. You found yourself wanting to talk to him more each time you saw him.

You were curious about this man who only wanted to look at you without touching. On this particular night, Minho seemed anxious. He wasn't exactly distracted since he kept his eyes on you, but he kept fidgeting. His hands ran through his dark hair, messing it up, and his leg bounced a little. He was drinking more than usual.

When the last song ended, you stopped him from leaving. “Minho...” you said softly from your kneeled position on the stage. He paused mid-stride, his back turned to you. He didn’t respond, but he was listening. “Are you alright?” you asked, feeling the need to check on him.

You heard him sigh softly before turning to face you. “Don’t I look alright?” he replied, his eyes pinning you down, making you feel self-conscious again. You slowly stood up, your heels softly clicking on the stage as you walked over to him. “No, you don’t. You seem anxious. You don’t have to tell me anything, but I’m here to help.” You reached out, sliding a hand over his and up his arm.

Minho jerked away and bit down on his bottom lip. “I- I don’t like to be touched like that.” You thought it was odd, so you tilted your head in curiosity. “But then how do you love a woman or a man? You have to touch and be touched.” A soft smirk formed on Minho's lips. “If you’re talking about sex, then I don’t love or make love… I fuck. As far as domestically loving someone,” he paused, “That has never happened and will never happen.”

His last sentence seemed final, as if he didn’t want to continue the conversation. Minho turned to leave again, but you caught his hand, which he didn’t pull away from this time. “Why do you book me every night I work? Doesn’t it get boring seeing the same girl on stage every time?” You were genuinely curious, but a part of you didn’t want him to leave just yet. You liked the energetic, charged feeling he gave you. There was a static in the air between you two, and you looked forward to it.

Minho turned around, taking a stride closer to you. He was so close you could feel his body heat. Leaning in, his lips almost touching yours, he whispered, “No one else is allowed to see you but me. You’re my dancer.” His voice in your ear did interesting things to you, curving your back and parting your lips. As he pulled back, your eyes met his, holding that stare.

Then you said the words you never said to any client, “Let me touch you.” You never made sexual advances like this, always making sure clients knew you weren’t offering sex for money. But with Minho, you wanted to see what his body could do to you. You wanted to be the one he allowed to touch him.

Your eyes dipped to his lips as his tongue licked over his bottom lip. For a moment, you thought he would refuse, but then he said, “Sit.” He pointed to the couch. You didn’t hesitate and sat down on the plush couch. Minho gently pushed your shoulders back so you were leaning completely against the back of the couch.

You watched this beautiful man, who probably never knelt for anyone, sink to his knees in front of you. He began taking off your heels, dropping them to the side. Then his warm hands slid up your calves, over your knees, to your thighs. Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, and the anticipation made your chest rise and fall dramatically. Minho's eyes were focused on one spot directly between your thighs as he spread your legs apart.

“I said I wanted to touch you..” Your voice was timid and soft. His touch made it hard to think. Those eyes shot up to yours, piercing deeply, “I don’t like to be touched, but I will gladly touch you.” And just like that, you were his, at least in that moment.

Minho's hands slid up to your hips, gripping them firmly and yanking you towards him, causing your ass to rest on the edge of the cushions. He hooked a finger in the gusset of your lacy, light blue, slightly transparent bodysuit, pulling it aside to expose your very wet pussy. You swore you heard a soft rumble deep within his chest as he looked at you, vulnerable and ready for him.

Minho wasted no time, leaning closer and biting at the inside of your thighs, causing you to suck in a sharp breath. His teeth on you were unexpected but felt amazing. Then his soft, wet tongue was on you, slowly licking between your wet folds. Minho stayed silent, but his face said volumes. His eyes locked on your face, filled with lust. His hands massaged and kneaded your thighs as he licked slowly over your entire pussy.

When your legs began to tremble from the intense pleasure, he finally latched his lips onto your clit, sucking gently. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but moan loudly. Minho's eyes never left yours, and the connection felt electric and undeniable.

“Fuck!” you mumbled, lifting your hips and tangling your hands in his hair, tugging as his suction became more intense. His hands moved from your thighs to your ass, lifting you just enough to grab handfuls of your flesh.

“Minho.. Minho.. don’t stop.” You chanted, soft sighs and whimpers escaping constantly. The moment you began chanting his name, he seemed charged with even more need to please you. He pressed his tongue in and out of your needy hole, his entire face pressed into your pussy, his nose sliding up and down your swollen clit.

Minho wasn't afraid to get all your juices on him, loving your smell and taste. His cock grew extremely hard in his pants. It was uncomfortable, but he endured just to see you laid out like this, a dinner only for him.

As your orgasm built, your body reacted uncontrollably, your back arching, hips grinding against Minho's eager mouth. The tension coiled tightly in your lower abdomen, ready to snap. Just as you were about to tip over the edge, Minho's fingers joined in, sliding two digits into you, curling them perfectly to hit that sweet spot inside you.

With a final, desperate cry of his name, your orgasm crashed over you, waves of pleasure coursing through every nerve in your body. Minho didn't let up, his mouth and fingers working you through your climax, drawing out every last tremor. As you came down from the high, Minho moved back, his handsome face shining slightly with your juices.

He simply licked his lips then sucked the rest of you off his fingers. You watched him put your clothing back in place and then slowly stand. You saw the imprint of his cock in his pants, and you genuinely wanted to give back what he just did for you. You moved to kneel in front of him.

Minho watched you, his hands hanging loosely by his side as you ran your hand over the bulge in his pants, but when you went to unbutton his pants, his hand stopped you. He shook his head and helped you to your feet, his hand holding yours a bit longer before letting go. “You should get home soon, I will see you soon,” he muttered before leaving, his energy still filling the room after he was gone.

You were being paid a lot to give your time to Minho, but why did it feel like every moment with him was worth far more than money? The connection between you two was undeniable, leaving you wanting more and questioning what drew you so deeply to him.

Thank you all for your support! I’m writing a bit slower due to life stuff but, I will continue posting as often as I can! As always all interactions with my works are appreciated! I hope you enjoyed!!

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[toxycodone]

OK if I can share some chilchuck thoughts just as like. a showcase of how I view this man.

As usual if you all have anything to add or argue. Feel free.

sfw

He's emotionally stunted (duh) and repressed. This makes him not only difficult to befriend, but also very hard headed when it comes to romance.

Like, aside from all the professionalism stuff, he always holds you at arm's length. Even after discussing and becoming aware of this, it's a constant internal struggle

Is a romantic relationship with this man possible? Yes, of course. But he struggles with his own insecurities about it. Aside from all the dangers of his profession, he's at the mercy of his own mind. He worries a lot about keeping you around and happy. And most of all, your own safety. It would be a nightmare if something happened to you (and the guilt of him dying permanently and leaving you behind wracks him with guilt).

I think this leads him to prefer "unserious" short term relationships. Maybe just built on the idea of sex/mutual agreement not to get too intimate with each other. But with him, the longer it lasts, it's inevitable it becomes serious because he will end up caring for you intensely no matter what.

So that makes him want to cut it off. Or ignore you. And it requires a serious "what are we" conversation and encouragement that hey. sometimes love is worth the pain and difficulty navigating it

And so he'll....albeit reluctantly, try to start something with you.

It's awkward at first and difficult to navigate through the tons of boundaries he sets up. But eventually he does let his guard down and relax into it. Chilchuck is more keen on lowkey forms of PDA and such but he can really be a sweet guy

nsfw

Absolutely a top. Mostly dom leaning? but he isn't totally married to that (or anyone really anymore huh)

He likes positions that make him feel big and in control, especially if you're a race that is bigger than him. He knows that what he's working with isn't going to be big by your standards, but he knows the positions that can make it feel like more or hit the right spots.

His lockpicking skills give him nimble fingers too. so thats something

He's not shy and will stick fingers in your pussy/ass while he fills another hole. doesn't matter. If you wanna feel stuffed goddamn he will try his hardest

Definitely not a whimperer. He growls and curses like a fucking sailor in common and his native tongue. It's almost somehow more inappropriate when he's saying it??

He bites. And scratches. Chilchuck tends to have pent up anger (or just feelings in general) and will take it out on you sexually

and for that matter I think he can be crude when speaking to you too. Often tells you that he knows you can be louder, calls you a slut, or growls and tells you to take it. Or if you need to be quiet he's threatening for you to stfu or he'll stop and leave you begging for him. yeah. he's. aggressive

But he can be romantic too, just tell him that's what you want. He definitely has experience. It'll be awkward at first (again, the emotional constipation coming through) but as he gets into things...it becomes more and more sweet and intimate.

[mncxbe]

what do you think about enemies to lovers with akutagawa x ada fem!reader with a really big sexual tension between them?

Yes. Just yes🫡 that's all I have to say. Hope you like it♡

•☆○

Laced♡

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡/ one bed trope

Akutagawa didn't know how he ended up like this, sharing a bed with you in a crappy motel room in Shinjuku. He took a deep breath in, feeling the thin particles of dust tickle his nose and sneezed, mentally cursing his overly sensitive body.

From the other side of mattress you mumbled a half-hearted 'Bless you'

"Oh shut up" he hissed, his head snapping in your direction. You were laying on your side close to the edge of the ragged futon, a chiffon robe wrapped loosely around your frame. The neon lights that filtered through the windows illuminated your figure well enough for Akutagawa to make out the little bird drawings that adorned your nightgown.

"Your voice is pissing me off" he added, voice laced with venom as he took in your figure.

"Then stop sneezing and coughing every five minutes. I'm trying to sleep" you replied in a casual tone which only fueled Akutagawa's anger.

God, how he hated you and your composed demeanour; a futile attempt to prove that you were better than him. He vividly recalls your first encounter when his former mentor introduced you to him and the way your eyes scanned his figure with pure amusement. Oh, he resented the way you always looked down on him, thinking that you were superior only because you were working at the Agency.

The fact that you were constantly competing for Dazai's praise only made things worse. Each time the brunette would pair you up for a mission you'd go out of your way to ensure that you did just a tad bit better than him, whether it was stealing the target's phone, a classified file or simply taking extra credit.

And what was worse was that this wasn't even a fair competition: no matter how hard he tried to prove himself to his former mentor, you'd still get all the 'Good job Y/N'. All you had to do was breathe and Dazai would shower you with praise. It was so easy for you and it filled him with burning rage, a fire that grew hotter inside him by the minute; you were utterly insufferable and yet...

Laying beside you in this god forgotten room, Akutagawa couldn't bring himself to hurt you. He knew he could; you were both far away from home and the mission Dazai assigned you was dangerous. If you were to get injured it wouldn't come as a surprise. Plus, your ability was no match to his so he could easily kill you, destroying the source of all his anger and pent up frustration that plagued him day and night.

Still, something was holding him back; a force that he could not explain. He simply scoffed, gritting his teeth.

"I cannot fucking control it. Get your own room if you really can't stand my coughing."

You remained silent and the man cursed under his breath. After a while you rolled on your back and sighed.

"It's too hot in here."

"It's the middle of August, what did you expect?"

"Some air conditioning maybe?" you said in that condescending tone he so resented.

"You're so irritating." he stated, not daring to look at you. He knew that if he did he wouldn't be able to keep up this act and God knows what he'd do.

"Come on Ryuu. I know you don't actually hate me. You're just mad about Dazai liking me better"

Akutagawa's body tensed upon hearing your words. "Don't call me that."

"What, Ryuu? Why not?" you asked innocently.

"Because you know I can't stand it." he lied. He did in fact love the way his name rolled off your lips; it was so soothing but he couldn't bring himself to admit it. "And don't drag Dazai into this."

You let out a low chuckle "But he is part of this. He's actually the reason for all this. For us and-"

"There's no such thing as us" he spat, nails digging deep into the calloused skin of his palms.

He could feel you scoot closer to him, one of your hands gently brushing a strand of charcoal hair from his face.

"Isn't it?"

Your words lingered between the two of you, a heavy, unspoken truth. There was no you but both of you somehow wished there was. Despite all the resentment he bore towards you, Akutagawa knew there was something more to his feelings. He couldn't exactly pin-point what it was tho, but it seemed that you shared the same thought.

"What are we?" you asked eventually, fingertips sliding along his jawline as you moved even closer to him.

Your touch sent goosebumps all over his body, igniting his skin. Yet he didn't push you away. Instead, he turned to his side to face you.

"What do you think we are? We're rivals for fuck's sake" he stated and you would've believed him if it weren't for his arm which wrapped around your waist.

"Are enemies usually so desperate for each other?" you chuckled, cupping his face.

"I'm not desperate" he hummed as he began caressing the side of your body. His fingers traced the outline of your body over your robe, languidly sliding back and forth from your hip up your waist and along your ribs; causing you to shudder.

"You sure are desperate tho" he said, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. His slender fingers hooked under the loosely tied knot of your robe, undoing it.

A light hum escaped your lips when he touched your bare skin.

"Hey Ryuu." you purred, threading your fingers through his hair "Do you think things would've been different if we weren't in different organizations?"

"Not at all. I'd still hate you" he said plainly. Akutagawa was completely entranced by you; his mouth voiced of abhorrence but his hands spoke another language, gently cupping one of your breasts as he kneaded your soft flesh.

He pulled you closer until your lips were mere mere inches apart. "You don't think you could ever like me, do you? It would be so ridiculous."

"Really?" With a mischevious smirk on your lips you took his hand from your breast and guided it between your legs; Akutagawa gasped as his fingers brushed against your wet panties. "I think I like you already."

"You little..." he cursed under his breath as he closed the distance between you, lips finding your own. He kissed you deeply, feverishly and pushed you onto your back, climbing on top of you.

When he eventually broke the kiss he looked down at you, trying to ignore his forming bulge that pressed against your thigh.

You only giggled, tracing your thumb over his lower lip. "How about you put that mouth of yours to good use, hm?" you teased but Akutagawa noted the hint of urgency in your voice.

With a sly smirk on his face he slowly moved lower onto you, tracing feathery kisses along your heated skin until the nestled himself between your thighs. Each touch elicited sweet sounds from you which echoed through his entire being.

Before he hooked his arms over your thighs to keep you close your gazes met for s brief moment and he nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

"As you wish, pretty girl"

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Can you please write an Kenny Omega X Fem Reader Story(smuty/flirty), Reader is the younger sister (by 10 years) of Matthew and Nicholas. Reader and Kenny always flirts and teases each other because they have an thing for each other but Matt and Nick are the overprotective big brothers and don't let them alone together, but on one night reader sneaks out of her hotelroom and to Kenny's and they start to make out and ending up having passionate sex

No one has to know

Kenny Omega X young bucks sister reader

@saramusazzi99 @swaggybae asked to be tagged :)

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, unprotected sex

Kenny Omega Masterlist Main Masterlist (word count 2k)

I was getting tired of the games Matthew and Nicholas were playing. I get that they were my older brothers and they only wanted ‘what’s best for me’ but what they claimed was best for me was complete BS. It’s no secret that Kenny and I have feelings for each other. Everybody knew about it, the sexual tension between the two of us was deadly. Despite everyone thinking we fucked I have never even got the chance to kiss that gorgeous man. Why? That’s because for years my brothers have done everything in their power to keep the two of us apart. They even went as far as hiring a private investigator to follow me around to make sure Kenny and I didn’t have a secret relationship going on. I don’t think Matt and Nick even understand all the harm this is causing. All I wanted was Kenny and all he wanted was me. Keeping us apart was just making us fall harder in love with each other. It’s hard seeing all of my friends get married and have kids knowing I probably won’t get to experience that due to my stupid brothers. I tried to date other people, I tried to accept it and move on but I couldn't. No one came close to Kenny. Everything about him was perfect, I loved every inch of him. He was the love of my life and I knew I wouldn’t give up on him, I wouldn’t give up on us. 

Kenny’s pov

Ever since I turned 40 I have looked at life differently. I never wanted to get married or have kids. I didn’t even like the idea of being in a relationship. Wrestling was always my number one priority. That was until I started developing these feelings for Y/n. I’ve known Y/n for as long as I can remember. She was the little sister to two of my best friends Matthew and Nicholas Jackson. I don’t know when I developed these feelings for Y/n, one day I just woke up and I realized I was in love with her. Sure she was younger than me, almost 12 years to be exact but neither of us seemed to mind the age gap. She was gorgeous, whenever she entered a room everyone turned, everyone smiled. She just had the aura that made everyone want to get to know her. I know she hated it, she was oblivious to the fact that everyone was head over heels in love with her. I remember her telling me she hated all the attention, how she wished she could hide and have five minutes to herself for once in her life. I always made sure to keep an eye on her, I wanted to keep her safe from all the weirdos who dared to lay eyes on her. I was always jealous of how I couldn't have her. Matt and Nick won’t allow us to be alone in the same room together. I understood that they were protective of their little sister but come on. I think I was the best fit for Y/n. No one would keep her safe and love her forever like I would. 

Although this back-and-forth flirty game of us not being able to get to first base has been happening for years the moment I turned forty I decided now was enough. I was done playing games. I was tired of all of this. I didn’t want to give up on us but something had to change. 

That night when I got to the arena the first thing I did was march into The Bucks office. I slammed the door and began letting out all my pent-up anger from over the years. “You two realize that you are ruining Y/n’s life right? You claim to know what’s best for her but the truth is you won’t accept what’s truly best for her. Or should I say who’s best for her? I’m sick of the two of you getting involved with Y/n and I. You know I would do fucking anything for her. You know that I would make sure nothing bad ever happened to her. I would love her to death. Tell me again why is it that the two of us are forbidden again? Is it because I’m your best friend and she’s your sister? I’m the best one for Y/n and you know it! You’re telling me you don’t even care that guys like Adam Cole and CM Punk are literally obsessed with her! You would rather have your sister go out with someone like PUNK, you know the guy we all got in a fight with and fired, over ME!!!!” I didn’t even know what I was yelling about. I just kept on screaming. Matt and Nick did nothing, they just sat there and let me get everything out. 

“I’m sorry Kenny but it’s still a no. I’ll admit you’re a great guy and all but I won’t let this happen-” I cut Matt off before he could finish his sentence. “You do realize she hates you right? I can’t blame her, you guys are literally out of your minds! Y/n is a grown-ass woman, I think she is capable of deciding who she dates!” I still don’t get why I can’t be with Y/n. Did they think I wasn’t good enough for her? Me? Really? Have you seen the other guys who are after her??

Just as Matt and I were in the middle of a screaming contest Y/n walked into the room. “Well look who it is!” I told Matt “I think Y/n should decide whether she wants to go out with me or not!” “You know I want to go out with you Kenny. You know I feel the same way about you that you do for me” she told me “See!” I told them, still they wouldn't buy it. 

“I don’t care about what either of you says, you will not get my blessing!” Matt yelled, 

“I hate you!” Yelled Y/n before she stormed out of the room. Nick called after her “Don’t go too far, you have a match tonight!” 

That night I liedy in my hotel room alone once again. I hated this, I hated everything about this. The Bucks didn’t approve of this relationship but never told us why. Just then I heard a faint knock on my hotel room door. I looked at the time and was curious on who would be at the door at this hour. To my surprise I found Y/n standing there wrapped around in a hotel robe. I quickly pulled her inside, locking the door behind me before asking “What are you doing?” 

“You know exactly what I’m doing. I’m going insane without you. I need you, I need you so bad” The look in Y/n’s eyes was one of pure desire and lust. She knew what she was doing. 

She let the bulky hotel robe hit the floor, revealing a black silk robe. I knew what that meant. She pulled me close as she began to passionately kiss me. All of this felt so wrong but so right. I had waited years for this moment, there was no way I would let it slip through my fingers. I kissed her back with such passion I didn’t know I had. 

We took our time with everything. This was our first time together, we wanted to savor every moment in case it didn’t happen ever again. I carefully removed her silk robe to reveal a gorgeous black lace lingerie set. “I don’t deserve all this,” I told her as I blushed. “Yes you do, I wanted to do something special” She replied. 

We were tangled in each other, fighting for dominance. I found myself lost in the moment, oblivious to what was going on around me. I had Y/n pinned underneath me. I kissed and nipped my way up and down her body before ending above her navel. Just before I was about to go any further I felt as if reality set in. “Shit” I whispered to myself. “What? What happened?” Y/n called out. “Give me a second, I need to find a con-” Y/n cut me off “I don’t want that,” she said. “What?” I replied shocked, “I was hoping you would get me pregnant tonight” I froze at her words, I didn’t know how to respond. “What do you mean by that?” “You do realize if I was pregnant with your child they wouldn’t keep us apart right? They hate us together but would hate us even more if we had a child out of wedlock. They would force us to be together after that”

 She had a point. Didn’t know if I was ready for a kid right now but I was too turned on to care. “Fuck it” 

I can’t explain how I felt. I just felt at peace, I felt like I had found my home. I felt safe inside her. It was like I found the missing puzzle piece. The two of us fit perfectly. I had never made love with such passion and love. It was emotional, tears were shed. Not tears of pleasure or pain but tears of overwhelment. Everything we waited for was finally happening. I still couldn't believe this was happening. “I love you Kenny” Y/n whispered as we met each other’s thrusts, our fingers intertwined with each other’s. “I love you too Y/n, more than you could imagine” I responded. 

My body was on fire, all my senses were overstimulated. I was close and so was Y/n. “Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me to fuck a baby into you?” “Please, I never wanted anything so bad” If that wasn’t the confirmation I needed Y/n wrapped her legs around my waist. Forcing me closer into her. 

I continued to fuck us both through our orgasms. I’ll admit I had never cum so hard in my life. I could feel my load paint her walls, filling her up to the brim. I collapsed on her chest as the both of us tried to catch our breath. After a while I carefully pulled out of her, making sure not a drop of my cum spilled out of her. “What are you doing?” Y/n asked giggling as I carefully lifted her legs above her head. “We can’t afford to waste a single drop if you want to carry my baby”

[bitethedevil]

Imagine if Raphael was on the Material Plane in human form when he happens to cross paths with his little mouse (who he is infatuated with) and then, for one reason or another, someone mistakenly assumes that Tav is his spouse and refers to Tav as such ("Oh, apologizes, sir! I didn't realize your spouse would be joining you!"). How do you think he'd react? Do you think he'd go deer in headlights for a second? Would he just roll with it? Would he clear up the confusion?

(I deviated a bit from this ask. Just felt like writing a silly little thing. This one is just Raphael being his dramatic self and a complete ass to Tav lmao. Idk I really had fun with this one but it's not super romantic or anything. It's also not super edited)

Let's Get Divorced (Raphael x Tav)

Tav was in a bar, drinking with the most sweet and handsome man she had ever seen. He was kind, he was interested in her, and he had the cutest smile. It had been a little while since she had last been with someone, so she had high hopes that she would end up in this handsome stranger’s bed later.

Defeating the Netherbrain and getting rid of her tadpole had really done something to her libido. It is as if her brain was still craving that excitement that only multiple near-death experiences can bring a person, and now it was compensating for it by being constantly horny.

She managed to steal a little kiss from the cute man she was drinking with, and she felt her heart beating a little faster. She had him. She was sure of it. She would finally be able to release all that pent up sexual frustration she had.

She went up to the bar to get more drinks and to cool down for a short moment. Her blood was pumping from the kiss. That is when she heard an all too recognizable voice behind her:

“A moment of your time, if you would be so kind, mouse.”

Her heart fell and she turned around. He was looking just as disgruntled as the last time he sought her out and asked her for the Crown. She kept finding excuses for not delivering it to him, even though she had signed his contract. She was way too drunk to have this conversation with Raphael.

“Please,” she said. “Not tonight…”

“Not tonight, not last week, not a month ago,” he said annoyed. “I am running out of patience, dear.”

“And I’m sorry, I’ve been busy…” she said. “I obviously don’t have it on me right now. Just please…not tonight.”

“Busy, are you?” Raphael asked with a sneer. “And what is it that you are so terribly busy with this evening?”

“Uuuh…” Tav said and tried to think of an answer that was not ‘getting laid’, but her mind was not her friend at the moment, and she came up blank.

“That’s what I thought,” Raphael said. “You will take me to it, and you will personally hand it to me, tonight. I am not leaving before I have the Crown of Karsus in my hands.”

“Tomorrow, please,” she pleaded. “Come by tomorrow, and I promise you that I will give it to you.”

Her eyes quickly went to the man she had been talking to and she could see that he was staring at the two of them.

“Please, Raphael,” she said again.

Raphael slowly turned at looked at who she was looking at, before turning back to her.

“Is that what you are so occupied with?” Raphael asked her. “Chasing boys?”

“No…” she said.

Raphael gave her a look.

“Yes…” she admitted. “So what? Look, I promise I will hand you the Crown tomorrow. I will even place it on your head for you, just…let me have tonight…please.”

“You make me come to this disgusting establishment, you waste my time, you find excuse after excuse…” Raphael hissed at her. “I will not abide it, little mouse.”

“’Little mouse’?” she heard a voice behind Raphael ask. “Is he your husband or something?”

Her eyes widened slightly. Raphael’s anger disappeared the moment he heard the voice behind him, and a cruel smile spread across his face as he looked into Tav’s eyes.

“He is,” Raphael said smoothly and turned around to face the man she had been talking to. He put an arm around her waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him. “And you are?”

The man’s eyes went back and forth from Tav to Raphael in confusion. Tav was just as confused as to what just happened. She laughed nervously.

“Oh, he’s not…” she explained and pointed at Raphael. “I’m not married.”

“This again, my love?” Raphael asked her with feigned hurt and then looked at the man to address him. “She claims that she does not get enough attention at home, my little mouse.”

“Hahaaa, very funny. I have no idea what—” she said but was interrupted by Raphael, as his arm tightened around her waist.

“It is not the first time I have had to collect her from one of the city’s taverns, of course,” Raphael said with a dramatic sigh. “She keeps throwing herself at the patrons, you see. She can get quite unpleasant when she drinks too much.”

“He is not my husband!” Tav said to the man and tried to pry Raphael’s grip off her waist.

“I…I’m sorry, sir,” the man said to Raphael. “She never told me she was married.”

“I’m not!” she said loudly, still trying to squirm out of Raphael’s grip.

“Oh, that does sound like her,” Raphael said and punctuated it with a patronizing tap on her nose, still effortlessly holding her, despite her putting in her full strength in to get out of his grasp. “She has always been inclined to forget her obligations, isn’t that right, dearest?”

She looked the poor, sweet man who looked so confused and sad at the revelation. The whole situation was extremely awkward.

“Raphael, I will get you the damn…thing…” she said through gritted teeth, looking Raphael in the eyes. “Tell him that we are not married!”

“You say such hurtful things when you drink, my love,” Raphael said. She could see that he was fully enjoying this.

“Again, I am truly sorry for this misunderstanding,” the man said. “I will just…go…”

“No, no, don’t go. He is not my husband. He is a literal devil!” she said to him.

“She likes to exaggerate, don’t you, dear? Come, let us go home,” Raphael said to her as if he was dealing with an insane person and started dragging her out of the bar.

“But—” she said and took one last glance at the man as she was being pulled away.

Raphael only let go of her once they were outside the bar.

“It seems that your oh-so-busy schedule has been cleared,” Raphael said with a smile. “Now, take me to it.”

“There is no way that I would ever have married you of all people, just to make that clear,” Tav grumbled, slightly slurring. “Even the idea of it is offensive.”

“Oh, you wound me,” Raphael said with a cold expression. “Although, much like a marriage, we are bound together unless you fulfill your part of the deal. Of course, with us it is less of a ‘till death do us part’ arrangement and more of a… ‘when your death do us unite’ sort of thing. Let me remind you that I still have a contract, with your signature on it, that promises me your soul if you do not hand me the crown. As things currently stand, I own you, little mouse.”

Tav sighed deeply.

“Let’s go get fucking divorced then, I guess,” she drunkenly mumbled and turned to walk towards the direction of her house, to go get the crown for him, so that her part of the deal was fulfilled.

Raphael mood seemed to brighten at her surrender, and he offered her his arm to take as they started walking towards her home. Tav linked arms with him not to stumble.

She was moping about the fact that Raphael had ruined her chances at going home with someone. It was as if Raphael had read her mind.

“Before we do, I want to express how grateful I am that you finally came to your senses,” Raphael purred. “I am not without generosity for those who help me, and you clearly had a goal in mind for tonight. I would be a neglectful husband to leave my little mouse wanting, would I not?”

Tav’s brow furrowed as she looked at him. He smirked at her. Her eyes widened in realization.

…Oh?

[hailuchiha]

Caretaker

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

!! MINORS DNI !!

!! 18 + NSFW CONTENT!!

!! ALL characters involved are ADULTS ; NO minor characters!!

Summary: Itachi was supposed to return DAYS ago! It wasn't like him to ever return late from a mission. His sister, whom he left in the care of his partner Kisame, has been a ball of anxiety, getting worse each day. Kisame is also worried now, but when things come to a head, he takes his frustration out in a different way.

prompt filled for this anon ask

size difference; sort of noncon; cnc; sexual frustration; betrayal of trust; frustration; anxiety; found family drama; partially clothed; out in the open; power imbalance; anger issues; belly bulge; choking;

1.7k words

Caretaker

It had been days.

Itachi was supposed to be back days ago.

Kisame, whose care he'd left his precious sister in, almost felt as agitated as the younger Uchiha felt. While he knew how capable Itachi was, he just couldn't account for his partner's absence being this long.

Besides, he was running out of things to say to calm the brat down. At least, he was running out of believable things to say.

Plus, brat was sort of an insult to the gorgeous young woman.

"Kisame," she whined, her doe eyes wide and tearful as she stomped up to him. "Why isn't aniki back yet? You say everyday that he'll be back any day!"

"How the hell am I supposed to know," the swordsman growled, also running thin on patience by now. "Just... go hunt a rabbit or somethin to keep yourself busy. And useful."

The young woman frowned, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder as her hands went to her hips, lower lip wobbling a little despite her frown.

"You're saying I'm not useful?" she said in a dangerous tone.

Kisame wanted to roll his eyes, trying not to stare at her heaving bosom and the pretty flush heating her cheeks.

"Don't start this again, woman!" he responded, though his bark had no bite. "Just don't pester me anymore."

"Huh. Some caretaker you are," she scoffed, even as she started to turn away. "You know, Itachi left me with you so you'd take care of me."

She had been backing off, not really even insulting him. But something about either what she said or the way she'd said it made his pent up emotions flare up.

He threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her indignant squawk as she was carried like that, and left the clearing to head into the cover of the surrounding darkness of the forest.

"Hey," she cried out as he threw her gently onto moss-covered ground.

"You're quite the ungrateful brat, aren't ya," he hissed, climbing on top of her and refusing to let her squirm about or escape him.

Something feral flared inside Kisame, and he gave into it, grinning wildly as he groped her ample breasts, his large hands squishing and squeezing the soft mounds.

She was panting from the exertion as she bucked under him, trying in vain to throw off his balance. Kisame would have been impressed at her valiant efforts if he didn't find her helplessness, her inability to even budge him, hilarious.

"You wanted me to play caretaker, huh?" Kisame huffed, bending down to kiss and lick at neck before biting down harshly. He smirked when she yelped, glaring at him with a mixture of shock and fear.

"You'd better stop!" she said, but her voice was all wobbly and breathless.

"I think not," he said, grinding down on her so she felt his cock rubbing firmly against her belly. "Since you couldn't appreciate all the hard work I did taking care of ya, providing for ya, all this time your brother's been gone, methinks you need to be taught a lesson. As your caretaker, I got the right. 'Sides, I deserve some sort of payment too for dealing with ya."

With that, he didn't wait for the Uchiha woman to respond, and simply tore off her underwear and leggings in a single yank, leaving them tangled at her ankles when they got stuck on her shoes. He pulled up her dress so it was pooled up around her tiny waist, the pale, silky smooth skin of her bare legs exposed for his hungry eyes. His cock twitched in appreciation, a wet spot appearing in his pants where he leaked precum already.

"Fuck," he mumbled, eyeing her pretty little cunt, watching almost mesmerized even as his oversized fingers idly played with her soft lips.

His eyes shot up when she whimpered, trembling, and he smirked when he saw the needy look in her eyes even as she tried to cross her legs to keep some semblance of decency.

Kisame chuckled, flicking her nose before gripping her plush thighs and spreading her legs, not allowing her to hide.

"Now, now, little one," he crooned. "Don't be all shy on me now! You were mouthy enough to pester me the whole two weeks your brother was gone."

"P-Please, Kisame," she still begged, eyes not meeting his even as her warm walls became slick with Kisame's attention, his finger making delicious wet sounds as it moved within her folds.

"Please what?" he asked with a smirk.

"L-Let's not do this... I won't bother you again," she said, not meeting her eyes, her nails digging into his still-clothed thighs.

Kisame barked out a laugh.

"Tell that to your greedy lil cunt," he countered, smacking her pussy and delighting in the strangled sound she made. "You even went through the trouble to shave it. Didja do it for me? Now be a good girl and let daddy have some fun... You've stressed me out enough the past few days," he said, pulling out his cock and smirking as he saw her eyes widen in horror.

Kisame knew he was girthy, that he was bigger than the average man... It came with the territory, what with him being around 7ft tall. He wondered if she was just playing coy, or if the little Uchiha would turn out to be a little cockslut after all.

He continued to pump his fingers in and out of her wet cunt, opening her up and relaxing her while using his other hand to tug at his cock a couple times till it glistened in his copious precum.

As he took out his fingers and replaced them with his thick head, he caught her eyes as she bit her lip, eyes trying to see where he was entering her. It took a few tries, his cock catching on her entrance every time he tried to push in. But finally, it worked. Kisame groaned at the sight of his fat cockhead slipping past her wet folds, stretching her pretty pussy painfully wide, if the grimace on her pretty face was anything to go by.

The young woman's face was flushed from the strain, and he took a moment to marvel at how pretty she looked, before slamming right in, not giving her more time to adjust.

To his delight, she threw her head back, as if in pleasure, her eyes rolled back and mouth dropped open in a soundless gasp as her pussy was stuffed with his oversized cock.

"Fuck," he groaned, wishing he'd undressed her completely when he bit into her shoulder and was met with the dissatisfying material of her dress rather than her delicious skin.

With no more patience, he started rocking into her, barely pulling out before slamming back in, groaning as the soft sound of her muffled gasps echoed around them, his eyes feasting upon the way her full breasts bounced each time he thrust in.

When her shoes became a problem, not allowing him to move as freely as he liked, he yanked them off in frustration before ripping the tangled mess of leggings and underwear off as well and tossing them aside.

Then, he pulled her onto his lap till her cunt was flush against him, his cock driving even deeper into her warm, wet folds.

With her back arched deliciously in this angle, the Uchiha's moans became louder, and she could almost swear the cock ploughing her was going all the way up to her throat. She felt a little dizzy, but she couldn't help but let her legs fall open wider in invitation, her blurry gaze fixed on the large blue form of the man she'd come to see as sort of a big brother over the years. Not anymore, she thought giddily to herself.

Kisame was pleasantly surprised when she giggled, looking completely out of it, and he responded by fucking her harder. He had his answer- she was definitely a cockslut.

"What's so funny, baby," he crooned, bracketing the endearment with sharper thrusts groaning as her nails dug into the exposed skin of his thighs in reflex.

"Jusss thinking about how y're not my brother anymo," she managed, though her speech was slurred and her breath being repeatedly punched out wasn't helping.

Kisame raised a brow, almost breaking into a cackle. This was fucked up.

"You're a dirty lil girl, yanno?" he said instead, sounding far too breathless for his liking.

She just giggled and wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling moans out of them both as the movement sheathed him in her smaller body completely.

As he continued to move into her, she thoughtlessly pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss, moaning as his hips stuttered in response.

The older man swore under his breath and hiked her hips higher, angling himself so he could rub her clit without breaking his momentum.

Her hands flew up to grip his arms, thighs twitching around him where they bracketed him, as high pitched moans fell from her reddened lips. Kisame could get used to the sight.

He chased his building high, keeping up the pace and not letting up as her body jerked and shuddered with pleasure, her cunt gripping his cock impossibly hard and throbbing around him as she came first. Kisame groaned, almost spilling then too, but he managed to wait till he'd fucked her through her orgasm before pulling out one last time and burying ballsdeep again, filling her with his load till her soft tummy bulged prettily.

Her eyes were still glassy, her chest heaving as she came down from the high, and Kisame gave in to the urge to lean down and capture her mouth in a filthy kiss.

"Good kitty," he muttered before pulling out, smirking at the sight of her pussy gaping wide open from taking him, and streaks of their mixed cum started to spill out.

"Let's getchu cleaned up," he said, pulling his gaze away from the delicious sight, only to chuckle when he saw her blissfully passed out.

Oh well. He didn't mind getting her cleaned up and dressed. Being caretaker wasn't so bad after all, the swordsman mused.

A/N: uh. this turned out to be very fun to write. i was planning to introduce itachi too but this got too long. maybe next time lol any typos will be fixed as soon as i find them

[sturnioloho]

I’m not sure if you already answered this but based on the clips you’ve posted what do you think chris and matt’s kinks are?

your good at these lol

this is a great question and thank you! i think chris very much has a primal kink. the growls when he eats food and whines when he wants hugs, random hissing and baring his teeth lol. he’s intense naturally so i feel like it’s very fitting for him. the clip of him saying himself he feels primal lol. during past fortnite streams i remember him saying he wants to shoot and hunt through grunts and gritted teeth. peak primal kink. i’ll see if i can find it somewhere. i think him and matt both would be into lil sexy costumes

i think matt is into degradation. w how callous he can be w his brothers sometimes lol. lots of passive remarks. very stern. very to the point. very much do as i say. my unpopular opinion is that he’s a dom. or atleast a switch. i feel like since his brothers r much louder, talk more and have more of the spotlight, he takes that power back in the bedroom. i feel like all that pent up anger from being unheard, frustrated and talked over just comes out as dominance for him. if i could describe what i think he’s like sexually from one clip it would be the “oh you want us to edge you?” clip. just that attitude of his would run rampant in the bedroom. it’s very hot to me. HEAVY brat tamer vibes

i remember chris saying matt always answers with the most logical n to the point answers (paraphrasing here) n i also feel like that come out during sex. i feel like he would love to make u work for it. i remember a clip of someone dropping something and he very sternly said something a long the lines of “you can pick that up” it caught me so off gaurd lmao. i feel like he would be into spankings. i also think he would like fucking in the woods lol. i feel like he would whimper when u suck his dick. i feel like he would like some sort of power play. for some reason a maid comes to mind. like just sitting and watching u clean while he leans back. him telling u that u missed a spot. probs sum humiliation kink mixed in w the degradation too. getting heavy orgasm control vibes. he won’t let u cum until you stumbling on ur words cuz ur begging so hard.

[thyln4gf]

Lets have some fun, shall we?

✞ This is a little different from what i usually do! This piece of work consists of some of my favourite F1 drivers as sexual gestures/things, and shortest, smallest blurbs ever about them (also a song for each). Its made based on purely my intuition and imagination, so just sit back and enjoy i guess.

✞ Word count - 1467

✞ Warnings - heavily sexual content.

✞ Drivers included - Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo, Lewis Hamilton, George Russel, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Alex Albon, Sebastian Vettel, Jenson Button.

✞ Authors note - requests open! Doesnt matter if you want more for a particular driver, or something completely new.

Charles Leclerc (closer to you - jungkook)

Drunk sex - He's definitely the type to underestimate his limits by a little, or maybe even a lot. Some people would say that those type of decisions are the worst ones that they have ever made. To him? Heaven on earth. Nothings more thrilling to him than the fuzzy feeling taking over his brain, the haze over his eyes - feeling like his body is operating on its own. You know what they say? If you take away one of your senses, the other gets stronger. So by taking away his ability to think properly, he's allowing himself to feel the pleasure even stronger than before. He finds solo sessions like that okay, but with you? Sheesh... He might as well have been a man who wasnt breathing, judging by the desperation he takes and eats you up.

Carlos Sainz (american teenager - ethel cain)

Morning sex - think of him being absolutely exhausted after a hard day at work, coming home to you - youre also exhausted, you were taking care of the kids, ran some errands, took a few calls. So you two cuddle up and fall asleep right away. Now lets take ourselves to the morning - its 7am, and the sun is already shining through the window. He wakes up to the feeling of your warm body, your bare skin against his. He might try to resist his urges at first, but then he'd inhale some of your scent - and he would immediately cave in. You cant resist his offer either, its tempting - being a parent, and having a husband who's always travelling... what could be a more perfect time to get going at it? The drowsiness after a good nights sleep still lingering and the rays of sunshine slipping through the window makes it much, much more addictive.

Max Verstappen (change (in the house of flies) - deftones)

Angry makeout sessions - now, lets be real. Did you expect anything else? This man has a lot of pent up anger. Not enough of that, he's a pretty angry man in general. He can be gentle, yes, and he has showed you exactly that multiple times. But one has to let off some steam and let the anger fade away. To him, making out with you is the perfect medicine. The softness of your lips and his aim to please you distracts his brain, and his senses get busy by letting his hands squeeze and caress your body anywhere he can reach. He seems to love your hips and your thighs - sometimes, he'd grip hard enough to leave some bruises. Not that you mind - it reminds you of the fact that he's yours, that he's desperate for you, and that he's not going anywhere. He needs you.

Daniel Ricciardo (teeth - 5SOS)

Getting handsy at the club/party - he doesn't even need those shots for the confidence, he already has enough. But something about the atmosphere gets him going. Is it the dim lighting? The smell of alcohol, sweat, and all those different perfumes mixed into one? Whatever it may be, he's definitely getting extra touchy. Rubbing your thigh while sitting in the booth, grabbing your waist to dance (not wrapping his hands around you, no - grabbing and squeezing it with his fingers), and all that jazz. Its almost like his hands have a mind of their own - he's far from the possessive type though. He just cant resist the inviting temptation to feel you with his hands.

Lewis Hamilton (renegade - aaryan shah)

Inappropriate thoughts during the wrongest moments - i dont have much explanation for this one, but it just makes sense. It does. Imagine listening to your boss talk about something incredibly boring. The conference is dragging on, on, and on. You can see someone napping, someone is doodling away in their notebook. Him? He's thinking about how he spent the night with you. He's thinking of how pretty your face looked, the tears smudging your mascara all over your cheeks, the pretty sounds you were making. And it was all for him. He quickly gets brought back to the earth as the boss calls his name. He's a lucky bastard though - he was always good at not letting his thoughts show on his face.

Lando Norris (monster - lady gaga)

Public fun - whatever the fun it might be. Anything ranging from caressing your waist in front of a group of people, to having sex in the most unconventional places ever. If there's even the smallest chance of getting away with it? He's doing it. And if the risk is even bigger? Even better. It excites him and turns him on like no other. The only thing thats more exciting about this is you, and the fact that he gets to do all those things to you, with you. Unlike Daniel - this little bitch is possessive as hell. He wont hesitate to give you hickeys where everyone can see them, while everyone can see.

Oscar Piastri (boyfriend - dove cameron)

Worshipping your partner - he's quiet, and he's kind of reserved. Doesnt mean that he's not as nasty as his teammate - just in a different way. He's more private. He'd enjoy being dominated by you, and only you, despite being a dom leaning switch himself. Youre his weakness, his royalty. You could be using him as a mere fucktoy, and he'd let you. He would also probably agree to a threesome with Lando - with the goal of being able to dominate and get dominated. He loved the idea of the whole focus going towards your pleasure - worshipping you.

George Russel (masterpiece - MIW)

The "face-off" - him sitting down on the edge of the bed, feet firmly on the ground, you straddling his lap. Youre grinding against each other, the room getting filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, and more and more of his moans. Most importantly? Youre staring into each others eyes. You enjoy watching him turn into putty underneath your touch. You find the way his big eyes look up at you pretty - so you cant resist the urge to ride him until he's actually crying, and cant think of anything else but of getting more. He kisses you as a distraction - its one of the sloppiest makeout sessions that you guys have ever had. But, dont lie to yourself - its one of your favourites as well.

Alex Albon (whore - in this moment)

Using toys - he isnt scared of a little "help" in the bedroom. This man is far from insecure, and it shows. He doesnt see it as a sign of weakness, if anything - he thinks that they help to show his skills and abilities better. He's a giver - he often finishes from giving you the pleasure only. He's also willing to try whatever you want to try - he feels honoured and even flattered that you trust him enough to voice your deepest fantasies. And he will do anything in his power to fulfill them - he wants to hear just how good you moan for him. His pretty princess.

Sebastian Vettel (sonne - rammstein)

Smiling - this man smiles, grins, and smirks through anything, to the point it can make you uneasy sometimes. He's praising you? He's smiling. He's dirty-talking into your ear in front of people? He's smiling. He'll do that anytime, anywhere. But his favourite reason to smile is hearing the sounds you make - he thinks of the fact that they were brought out of your mouth by him, and a smile just slips. The only moment where you can see that smile falter is when he's on his third or fourth orgasm - he simply cant focus on anything else but you and the way your body feels. "Thats it schatz, just like that" - and thats how you know that this man is far gone already.

Jenson Button (diggin' my own grave - FFDP)

Neck kisses - it almost feels like your neck is the staple of his life. He can and will snuggle into it and kiss it any chance he gets. Its not even always sexual - he sometimes does it subconsciously - but its definitely one of his favourite aftercare activities. And you havent complained once. You enjoy the feeling of his warmth lingering on the skin of your neck, and the way it gently tickles whenever he decides to rapidly attack it with the kisses. Your scent and your warmth feels comforting and almost hypnotising to him. But sometimes it just cant help but have the opposite of the calming effect on him - and a second round happens.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

vacancy (between your legs)

pairing: chris x reader (imagining this with re6 or re8 chris)

cw: hate sex (they actually don't hate each other tho), oral, p in v, some degradation, incredible confidence in the pull-out method lmao

summary: you are on chris' squad and he's the captain, but you have the hots for him, so you push his buttons on purpose. when you bicker in your motel room, one thing leads to another and...

a/n: idk? i wasn't gonna post this bc i posted hate sex w/ leon, but what am i gonna do? leave it in the drafts? no

wc: 1.8k

It’s a dingy motel, but it looks like paradise when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a tent. At least they have running water. You get your own room because you’re the girl in the group, which everyone bemoans. You’re just one of the guys to them, at least, when it comes down to choosing how to delegate the beds. Chris lets you have your own room. He’s still the Captain, though, so when he asks if he can use your shower, you agree, avoiding the argument. When he exits the shower - just a towel wrapped around his waist, something you’re trying hard to ignore - he’s grumbling about how you used up all the hot water, and it doesn't really matter if that’s true or not because you’re both on edge and likely to explode at each other at any opportunity.  

“Wow, can’t believe you have the audacity to ask me to use my shower in my room and then complain that I used the hot water?” You’re only somewhat irritated with him, but your words are laced with bitterness. 

“Are you serious right now? I’m the boss here, and I could just as well kick you out of this room and have it to myself.”

He’s right, but it’s not fair. More importantly, you’re agitated. Exhaustion? Hunger? Pent-up sexual frustration that threatens to break now that the man you’ve been drooling over for years is almost naked in front of you?

“So what? You want me to say thank you, Chris, sorry, I mean, Captain, for being so, so nice to me.”

You know how much he hates being called by his first name out in the field, so you taunt him with it on purpose.

“Why do you insist on pushing my buttons?”

“You started it!”

“Are you a fucking child? Because you’re acting like one.” 

Chris would rarely fight a woman, but you’re not any woman. You’re constantly bitching at him, going against his orders, and you’re sexy as hell when you’re mad. Plus, he’s seen you fight - verbally and physically - and metaphorically, you’re entirely within his weight class. 

“You’re the one who started complaining, that’s all I’m saying. Can you just leave me alone? I’m stressed enough as it is.” “You think you’re the only one? I’m trying to keep my cool because one of us has to, and you don’t know how to hold your tongue.”

“Don’t keep your cool, then. Hit me with it.”

You’re not even into degradation. You just like the way his voice gets deeper, more gravely when he’s pissed off. 

“You’re a bitch, you’re a brat, you’re self-entitled, too stubborn to admit when you’re wrong, and you’re a goddamn pain in my ass.”

“Is that all? I thought you could be nastier than that.”

“Nasty? You want me to play nasty, huh? I would say that since you can’t do field work and you can’t do desk work, then maybe you’d be more useful on your knees under the desk, but you know what? More than anything, you’re disobedient, so I doubt you’d even be able to take cock like a good girl.”

“Sorry that I don’t fulfill your perfect submissive fantasies. Doesn’t mean I’m not any good on my knees.”

“Really? Then prove it.”

“That’s what you want?” 

Both of you are running on auto-pilot, completely enraptured by the thrill of anger and arousal. He wants to sink his teeth into your skin and you want to drag your nails down his. Flesh on flesh, hot and sweaty. The closest you’d ever been to sex was sparring. He had you pinned to the mat. You needed to pick a different partner because you couldn’t learn when you got dizzy every time you tried to train with Chris. 

“Yeah, I’ll give it a trial run, see if it’s worth it, and maybe if you can satisfy me, you can still have a job working for me.”

You stand there for a moment, stunned into silence, working on forming a sentence, but no words come out. Chris raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down. He isn’t backing down from your proposition. If it were any other man, you would walk out the door - not before spitting in his face or kneeing him in the balls, but this is Chris, this is different. 

You’ve wanted to sleep with him since the day you met him. You butted heads constantly because you were both stubborn and happened to be on different sides of every issue. Also, you learned early on that you got more attention for being obnoxious, so as long as you weren’t out in the field, in a life-threatening scenario, you intentionally pushed his buttons. He almost caught onto your little charade once. 

“How are you able to cooperate out in the field, but in the office, you have to argue with every word that comes out of my mouth?”

He’d gotten real in your face with that one. Hand on the desk next to him, cornering you so you couldn’t scurry away (not like you ever would). Most girls would’ve apologized to scary Captain Redfield, but not you. You went home and immediately grabbed your vibrator from your bedside table and replayed the conversation. 

He’s winning, but he was always going to win. You’re playing a long game that he isn’t privy to, one that you’d always lose. 

You sink to your knees. You’re a little sad that he doesn’t make you beg for it, but you go ahead with undoing his belt and getting his pants down his thighs. You presumed that he would be big - you thought you’d caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants once, but you couldn’t be sure, and what were you gonna do? Ask him? 

Once he’s down to only his underwear, your suspicions are confirmed. It’s a little intimidating, actually. Do or die. You take his dick out, only to find out that it barely fits in your hand. Sure, your hands are small, but you can hold a handgun. You struggle with bigger guns (and bigger dicks as it turns out). You lazily stroke him, looking up into his eyes, and he looks pleased - smug, really. For once, it feels like you’re on the same team. You’re both winning when his cock is down your throat. The only courtesy he gives you is a makeshift ponytail so you don’t get hair in your mouth. He doesn’t give you an ounce of sympathy when you choke. You look prettiest with tears in your eyes. He knows you’ll smack him on the thigh if you want him to stop - and you hit hard. 

Not today. You suppress your gag reflex and breathe through your nose. It isn’t the hardest thing you’ve done today. You fought off a horde of zombies that morning - sucking dick is nothing. You’re not new to either. 

You’re about to break Chris’ composure. You feel him throb in your mouth. But he pulls away in time. You won’t win that easily. Maybe you are still fighting.

You stand up, still in a haze. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or are gonna strip?”

You walk backwards to the bed and let him follow you. You rid yourself of your shirt and pants on the way there. You sit down and take off your bra without breaking eye contact. You spread your legs before taking off your panties and start to touch yourself while he watches. He tries to hide how much the show you’re giving him affects him. 

You can tell he’s flustered when he pushes you onto the bed and says “Save the theatrics.” You think he’s going to kiss you, but instead he bites your bottom lip. Two can play the teasing game. You grab his face and pull him into a kiss and he lets you. 

He rubs his cock along your folds and says, “Are you always this wet?”

Around him? Yes, actually. You’re too wet for words now, so you’re lucky it’s rhetorical. 

He hesitates. Neither of you thought to bring condoms on a mission. 

“Just pull out,” you say, “if you can.”

“Trust me, I’ve been in this game longer than you’ve been alive-”

“Slut,” you say under your breath. 

“Me? You’re the one who’s spent the past year trying to get me to fuck you.”

You go slack-jawed. One, because the cocktail of pleasure and pain you feel when he slips inside you is heavenly and two because you realize he’s known you wanted this the whole time. 

“How’d you know?” you try to ask, but it comes out less than inteligible, covered by a strangled moan. 

“Like I said, I’ve been doing this a long time. Your little act was obvious.”

Seems like it worked out in your favor. Too bad you’re getting pounded into the mattress and can’t get out a clever retort. Your brain is useless, you’ve lost all words besides his name. 

“I would’ve fucked you a long time ago if I’d known you feel this fucking good.” 

He lifts your legs up, and puts them over his shoulders. Your moans are almost screams. The pleasure is overwhelming. 

“Do you ever shut up? What’s everyone else gonna think when they hear you?”

They’re definitely going to hear you. It’s a good thing you don’t care. 

Chris’ hand wraps around your throat, but he waits until you nod - immediately, enthusiastically - to press his fingers down. You feel oddly safe knowing that he knows how to choke you out - you assume it means he also knows how to avoid choking you out. The pressure restricts your airways just enough to make you feel lightheaded. 

You’re finally a little quieter. For once, he liked you loud. Your constant complaints are a nuisance to his eardrums, but your moans are gorgeous. Chris’ other hand plays with your clit, bringing you closer to your peak. 

You have to cum first. There’s a split second where he worries you won’t and you’ll drag him over the edge first, forcing him to cum inside you. The disobedient bratty side of you takes over and you do try to hold out, you clench your inner walls just to watch his self-restraint falter. But the sight of him above you, his heavy breathing, swears muttered through gritted teeth, the feeling of him buried to the hilt inside you - it’s too much. 

Your back arches off the bed, your legs tremble and you soak the sheets as your orgasm takes you by surprise. Chris barely pulls out in time, cumming on your stomach as you try to catch your breath. You’re still shaking when he falls on the bed next to you. 

“Goddammit,” he sighs, “you’re great in the field and in the bedroom.”

“Roger that, Captain.”

He laughs. “I never thought I’d say this, but please, just call me ‘Chris’.”

“I’ll remember that for round two.”

[savnofilter]

Makeup Sex HCs

-> dabi/t. todoroki, s. todoroki, e. kirishima & k. bakugo

Dabi | Shouto Todoroki | Eijiro Kirishima | Katsuki Bakugo x [GEN]Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, makeup sex. 🧍🏽‍���️

COUNT: 1.1K words [1-3 mins each].

READ MORE: masterpost + [students | bakugo | adults masterlists]

A/N: ive been wanting to write this for a hot min and now i finally did sjdjsjdn anyways this will be my last nsfw work for students. pretty anti-climatic but 🤷🏽‍♀️ i will be releasing the rest of my sfw stuff for them somewhere else so stayed tuned for that. 👀 ANYWAYS I AM SAUR READY FOR THE DABI CONTENT IM GONNA BUST 🥰 THANK YOU ANON AND HAPPY YEAR YALL. 🤢🤟🏽🤟🏽🤟🏽

if its serious & Dabi knows hes fucked up, hes gonna force himself to talk about it.

don't think that he’ll be mature 100% but he will communicate with you.

is a little manipulative (don't come at me we know he ain't at therapy) and might divulge to get into your good graces once again.

makeup sex with Dabi entirely depends on how serious he finds the situation.

if it's something super serious (to him) then he will not go for sex and will not want to be touched physically like at all. comfort wise too.

but when it's something where all you two need to do is properly communicate, he's actually more empathetic. you could almost say the makeup sex between you when this happens is more… intimate.

if submissive!Dabi is something you like, here he is!

don't expect him to go full on tho, he’ll just relinquish a bit more of letting you take control as a form of apologizing.

[+] only you have been able to see him in such a position… you better be thrilled.

gets more needy tho? the audacity… if you love brats there here he is.

tries to say stuff to throw you off, shit like if you're teasing him he'll say something along the lines of, “stop playing and come sit on my cock, doll.” or “look at you slobbering all over my dick, you greedy XYZ.”

a little whiney about it too, has no shame whatsoever, though.

if he's the one giving you head, it's very messy and sloppy like he's making out with your nether regions. his goal is to have you c(um)e undone and having you surrender your thoughts to him.

when you two actually get to fucking though, it's really rough and grabby at first. it's as if you two are trying to fight each other whilst also attempting to one up another in pleasure.

very much a lot of rough thrusting, pinning, bite marks, hickies and hand prints galore.

then it soothes out—once all the pent up energy is exerted you two transition into a more, and this is where I talked about earlier, intimate love making.

mumbling apologies, a teary eye if you manage to make eye contact with each other and soft mutterings of how good it feels.

it's like a rollercoaster ride of high and low emotions, the end result being the balance of both.

probably the same kind of style as Dabi.

honestly it wouldn't be surprising if the root of the makeup sex being unresolved things, as in the inner conflicts that you two don't even address.

quiet aggression waiting for its release between you two.

makeup sex would be more like a week or a few days after, where you two are probably having a normal session but then the pent up and forgetting energy comes up and gets released during the deed.

Todoroki grips you way more often and holds you close as if you might disappear in one second.

uses a lot of his hands and probably toys too to let out his pent out anger.

will have you bonded up so he can freely do what he needs to do with having to keep his attention divided by keeping you down and pleasuring you.

a ton of words of affirmation here, both you and him.

that's how it normally is, but he throws in some endearing terms a lot more this time around.

“that feel good, baby?” “who makes you feel good like this?”

his attention is solely focused on you and not so much his.

will probably edge you until the point where you both need to climax as he enjoys seeing you tear up and beg for him.

the makeup sex was probably about jealousy if we're being honest here.

Todoroki is just so emotionally constipated but he doesn't know how else express it.

is definitely working on it though.

probably the most emotional out of them lol.

Kirishima is the type to cry and be a mess, super emotional and empathetic.

isn't doing crazy positions or trying to rough you up, unintentional or not.

very much, “I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry” sort of attitude 😭

feel like when thinking of Kirishima, since he has this hidden, passive aggressive side that it'd transmute into rough handling but no I think he'd let all his barriers down for something like this.

would probably get rougher near the ending tho, like harder thrusts and more bite marks.

he wants to be in your good books again and is doing his best to be that again.

everything is sloppier too, just pure rawness tbh.

the makeup session may take place a few hours later or a day later, if it doesn't then that's how you know it's something serious that can't just be mended with a bit of physical bonding.

so in a way when you two make up like this, Kirishima feels grateful because of the unspoken common rules in your relationship.

he puts his all in to make sure that even with your disagreements he still loves you a lot. :’)

surprisingly so, i honestly believe makeup sex with this man would be soft.

it's passive aggressive at most, the only thing being harsh is the rough grip here and there or a little taunting whisper every so often.

lots of eye contact and just admiring you under him.

likes to be on top so he can shield you from everything else in the room and wants your attention all on him.

make up sex with him is smothering in the way that it's like he's trying to mold himself into you and only you.

doesn't care about what you guys fought about or disagreed earlier, he's more or so focused on the connection this will bring.

Bakugo is more quiet during this time, not really saying much but lets a few noises slip by every so often.

if he does talk, it's not very loud or aggressive, more of check ins like, “you okay?” “you like it when I XYZ?”

it's like Bakugo is treating you in a fragile manner, not wanting to shatter you or startle you. :’)

this is one of the times where his energy level isn't on 1000.

ALSO HAND HOLDING FOR SURE.

prefers to mostly do positions where he can see your face too, wants to make sure you're okay.

he's very mellow and the sort of energy is needed for the mending between you two.

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