#biting things biting things biting things

[bobthebenevolentpirate]

These tags from @/cognitiveinequality perfectly convey my thoughts:

lmao

[yeyinde]

psychic!Reader being relentlessly stalked and terrorised by dead!Ghost.

He's not sure how he died, but considering the aura he has wrapped around him, it was vicious and violent. And while you're no stranger to helping the dead cross over when they need it, but he can't. Or won't. Everything you try doesn't work, and he soon decides that he's fine with that.

Prefers, instead, to follow you around. And at first, it's fine. He explores the world around him—intangible, untouchable—and asks snarky questions about why you're the only the one who can see him. How this came to be. But then he grows bored. Restless. Shifts into bad jokes. Taunts.

Finds the most amusement, though, in muttering in your ear about all the filthy things he'd do to you if he had his body back—in broad daylight, no less. All explicit, ugly things about testing your flexibility. Bending your knees to your ears. Getting that pretty little mouth on his cock—

Watches you shower. Drawls about having you put on a show for him. Slides into the bed with you when he can manipulate and solidify his form better. Icycold hands against your breasts. Squeezing your ass.

Most ghosts continue with their routine. Go on with their lives. Cogs in the machine. But he spends his time messing with you.

The problem, however, is that ghosts can only do much to interact with the physical world. Knocking things over. Stomping their feet down the halls. Saying a word. A name. A whisper. Cold air. Static. A slamming door.

But Simon's pinches hurt. His hand sometimes feels warm when he cups your beasts, or curls his palm over the nape of your neck, pulling you toward his groin only to huff when your face slips through it.

"not there yet, are we?" he drawls, but holds you there anyway just because he can.

Sometimes you have to remind yourself he's a ghost. A spectre. He can't really hurt you.

But when he nuzzles his face into your neck, and bites down so hard it burns, you find yourself unable to explain the raw, bloodied imprint of his teeth there the next morning. Or how warm, how solid, his body feels when he pulls you against his chest, hands groping at you as he stares at the mark he left with something primal twisting across his once pellucid face. Darkening with malintent. Desire.

Maybe you should have taken his threats a little more seriously after all.

[pucksandpower]

Fourth Time’s the Charm

Max Verstappen x Norris!Reader

Summary: it starts, as all the best things do, with a bet (“If I win the race tomorrow and take the championship, you owe me a favor. Anything I want.”)

Note: thank you so much to @altxanna for the fantastic idea

The lights of the Las Vegas strip pulse outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of Max’s penthouse, but neither of you cares. You’re both tangled up in each other under the covers, limbs lazily draped and intertwined. The TV is playing some action movie you both stopped paying attention to an hour ago, the volume low, serving as nothing more than background noise.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” you say, your voice soft as you trace a finger along Max’s arm, admiring the way his muscles shift beneath his skin.

“Just thinking,” he murmurs, resting his head against the pillow. His accent wraps around the words in a way that feels so familiar it’s comforting.

“About the race?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

Max turns his head to look at you, his blue eyes catching the dim light from the window. “What else would I be thinking about?”

You hum, tilting your head in mock thought. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe about how your girlfriend is ridiculously good-looking? Or how lucky you are to have me?”

His lips quirk into a smile, the kind that’s as much in his eyes as it is on his face. “You’re right. I should focus on what really matters.” He shifts slightly, leaning closer to you. “You’re ridiculously good-looking, and I’m very lucky.”

You laugh and shove his shoulder lightly. “That’s better.”

He catches your hand before you can pull it away, his fingers lacing with yours. His expression grows more serious as he says, “But yes, I’m thinking about the race. I’m thinking about winning.”

You roll your eyes at the sheer confidence in his tone. “You think you’re going to win.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Think? I know I’m going to win. You don’t believe in me?”

“Oh, I believe in you,” you say, smirking. “I just also believe in my brother. And if Lando finishes ahead of you, the title fight goes to Qatar.”

He groans dramatically, letting his head fall back against the pillow. “Don’t remind me. The idea of dragging this out another week …”

“What, scared Lando might pull it off?”

He narrows his eyes at you, feigning offense. “Scared? Me? No. I’m just saying it would be … inconvenient.”

“Uh-huh.” You grin, shifting onto your side to face him fully. “I don’t know, Max. Lando’s been looking pretty good lately. He might surprise you tomorrow.”

Max’s hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re really going to sit here, in my bed, and tell me your brother is going to beat me?”

“I’m just saying it’s possible,” you tease.

He shakes his head, but there’s a spark of amusement in his eyes. “Alright, then. If you’re so confident, let’s make it interesting.”

Your eyebrows lift. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

“A bet,” he says simply.

You prop yourself up on your elbow, intrigued. “A bet?”

Max nods, his smirk growing. “If I win the race tomorrow and take the championship, you owe me a favor. Anything I want.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

You consider it for a moment, then ask, “And if Lando finishes ahead of you?”

“Then you get a favor. Anything you want.”

You bite your lip to keep from smiling too broadly. “You really think you’re that unbeatable, huh?”

“I know I am,” he says, his confidence practically radiating off him.

“Alright, Verstappen,” you say, holding out your hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

He clasps your hand in his, his grip firm but warm. “Deal.”

You let your hand linger in his for a moment before pulling it away. “So, what’s this big favor you’re going to ask for if you win?”

He leans back against the pillows, his smirk turning devilish. “You’ll find out when I win.”

“If you win,” you correct, lying back down beside him.

“I’ll win,” he says confidently, his voice low as his hand trails down your back.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet, here you are,” he says, pulling you closer until your head rests against his chest.

You can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and for a moment, the room falls quiet. It’s peaceful in a way you don’t get to experience often, and you savor it.

“You know,” you say after a while, your voice quiet, “if Lando does win tomorrow, it’s not because you’re not good enough. He’s just …”

“Your brother?” Max finishes, his tone teasing.

You laugh softly. “Yeah, that too. But he’s been working so hard for this, Max. You both have. It’s … complicated.”

He runs a hand through your hair, his touch gentle. “I know. But on the track, it’s not complicated. It’s just me, the car, and the finish line. No brothers, no girlfriends. Just racing.”

You tilt your head to look up at him. “And what about after the race?”

“After the race …” He pauses, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “After the race, I’m just me. And you’re just you. That doesn’t change, no matter what.”

You don’t respond right away, letting his words sink in. Then, with a small smile, you say, “You’re really not scared at all, are you?”

“Of Lando? No,” he says, his voice light. “Of you? A little.”

You laugh, shoving him lightly. “Good. You should be.”

He catches your hand again, this time pressing a kiss to your palm. “I’ll remember that.”

You let out a soft sigh, your body relaxing against his. “You’d better get some sleep, Verstappen. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

He hums in agreement, but instead of pulling away, he leans in, pressing his lips to your neck. “One more kiss,” he murmurs against your skin.

You close your eyes, your breath hitching slightly. “Just one?”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his smirk returning. “Maybe two.”

You shake your head, laughing softly as he pulls you back under the covers.

And for now, the world outside doesn’t matter.

***

The final lap of the Las Vegas Grand Prix feels endless. The crowd’s roar grows louder with every corner, drowning out even the hum of the engines. Your hands are clammy as you grip the edge of your seat in the Red Bull garage, your eyes glued to the screen. Max’s car slices through the neon-lit streets of Vegas, and Lando is right behind him.

It’s close. Too close.

“Come on, Lando,” you mutter under your breath, though your heart isn’t entirely in it.

Max is P5. Lando is P6. A single position apart. If it stays this way, the championship is Max’s.

You’re not sure who you’re rooting for anymore.

The chequered flag waves as Max crosses the line, and your both heart drops and soars. P5. It’s done.

“MAX VERSTAPPEN, YOU ARE THE 2024 WORLD CHAMPION!” GP’s voice explodes over the team radio, his excitement nearly incomprehensible.

Max’s laughter comes through the speakers, unrestrained and wild. It’s a sound you know all too well — relief, joy, triumph all rolled into one.

“Yessss!” Max shouts. “That was incredible! Thank you so much for this season!”

You can’t help the smile tugging at your lips, even as the realization sinks in. He won. He really won.

The camera cuts to the Red Bull garage, where the team is in chaos — cheers, hugs, champagne spraying already. Christian adjusts his headset, leaning in to speak.

“Max, congratulations, mate. What an unbelievable season. You’ve done it again.”

“Thanks, Christian. Four in a row — unreal.”

You watch the screen as Max’s car slows on the cooldown lap, weaving slightly in celebration. You know him well enough to see it, even through the helmet — the ease in his shoulders, the grin he must be wearing.

Then his voice cuts through the radio again, this time steadier, more purposeful.

“And just so you know, I’m calling in my favor now.”

Christian’s confused laugh is audible even through the crackling radio. “Your favor? What are you talking about?”

You freeze, the air catching in your lungs.

Max chuckles, low and mischievous. “I had a bet with my girlfriend. I told her I’d win tonight. She owes me a favor, and I know exactly what I want.”

Your stomach flips, a mixture of dread and anticipation.

GP’s voice comes through, confused but amused. “Are we supposed to know what this favor is?”

“No, no,” Max says, his tone casual but firm. “But you’ll find out soon enough.”

Christian presses again, trying to pry it out of him. “Come on, Max. What’s the favor?”

There’s a pause, the kind that feels deliberate, like Max is savoring the moment.

“I want to marry her. Tonight. Right here in Vegas.”

The words hit you like a bolt of lightning, your pulse racing.

GP bursts out laughing. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Max replies, his voice steady, no hint of hesitation.

You sit frozen, your heart thundering in your chest. Did he just-

“Max,” Christian says, a mixture of disbelief and laughter in his tone, “does she even know about this?”

“She does now,” Max says, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

The team radio falls silent for a moment, and the TV commentary fills the void as the podium finishers begin to line up. But you barely register any of it.

Max is proposing. No — not proposing. Declaring.

The camera pans to his car as he pulls into parc fermé, the four-time World Champion. The team swarms him, pulling him from the car, hoisting him into the air. The crowd’s cheers are deafening, but all you can think about is his voice in your head.

“I want to marry her. Tonight.”

You barely notice when someone taps your shoulder, Max’s PR officer. “You should get down to the celebrations,” she says, her voice brimming with excitement. “He’ll want you there.”

Your legs feel like jelly as you stand, weaving through the sea of Red Bull personnel to get to the barriers.

***

When you finally see him, his helmet is off, his face flushed from the race and grinning so wide it’s like he’s glowing. He spots you instantly, cutting through the crowd like no one else exists.

“Max,” you start, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“You heard me,” he says, his voice low but firm, his eyes locked on yours. “I want to marry you tonight.”

You stare at him, still trying to catch up. “You’re insane.”

He steps closer, his hand finding yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Probably. But I’m serious.”

“Max, you just won a world championship,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’re supposed to be celebrating, not-”

“I am celebrating,” he interrupts, his voice softening. “With you. And I don’t want to wait anymore. I’ve known for years that I want you. Why wait?”

Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest. “This is insane. People don’t just get married in Vegas on a whim.”

He tilts his head, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “People do it all the time, actually.”

“Max-”

“I love you,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “I love you, and I want to start the rest of my life with you. Tonight. Right now.”

You can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you — the team, the media, everyone waiting for your reaction. But in this moment, it’s just the two of you.

“Say yes,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours. “Say yes, and let me win you, too.”

You laugh, a shaky, breathless sound that comes out more like a sob. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it.”

You take a deep breath, your hand tightening around his. “Fine,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

The smile that breaks across his face is pure joy, unfiltered and blinding. He pulls you into his arms, lifting you off the ground as the team around you erupts into cheers.

“Alright, Verstappen,” you say, laughing as he spins you. “You’ve got your favor. Let’s get married.”

***

The wedding chapel is everything you expected it to be: over-the-top, tacky in the most endearing way, and bathed in flickering neon lights. A bright red Cadillac is parked out front, its headlights beaming into the frigid Vegas night. Inside, the carpet is a deep, gaudy red, and plastic flowers line the aisle. The faint smell of cigarettes lingers in the air, clinging to the cheap velvet curtains.

It’s surreal, to say the least.

“This is insane,” you mumble, standing in a side room with Lando, who’s staring at you like he’s still trying to process what’s happening.

“You think this is insane?” He replies, pointing vaguely toward the chapel. “What about the fact that you’re marrying Max Verstappen in a Vegas chapel at 3 a.m. with a guy dressed as Elvis officiating?”

You groan, adjusting the makeshift bouquet of roses someone from the Red Bull team had pulled together. “Don’t remind me.”

Lando smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “I don’t think I have to. This is going to live in my head rent-free for the rest of my life.”

You shoot him a look. “You don’t have to be here, you know.”

“Are you kidding?” He folds his arms, the grin never leaving his face. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Besides, who else is going to walk you down the aisle?”

Your stomach flips at the thought. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Lando softens a little, stepping closer. “Hey,” he says, his voice quieter now, “you sure about this? I mean, it’s Max. And Vegas. And Elvis.”

You bite your lip, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “I’m sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, meeting his eyes. “I love him, Lando. He’s ridiculous, and he drives me insane, but I love him.”

Lando watches you for a moment, then sighs dramatically. “Well, I guess if anyone’s crazy enough to keep up with Max, it’s you.”

“Gee, thanks,” you say dryly, but your smile betrays you.

There’s a knock on the door, and one of the chapel staff pokes their head in. “We’re ready for you.”

Your heart leaps into your throat.

Lando claps his hands together, his grin back in full force. “Alright, let’s do this.”

***

The chapel is even more ridiculous than you’d imagined. A man dressed as Elvis stands at the altar, adjusting his oversized sunglasses and strumming a guitar idly as he waits. Max is already there, looking completely at ease, as if this is just another podium ceremony.

When he sees you, his face lights up, and any lingering nerves you had melt away.

“You ready?” Lando whispers, offering his arm.

“As I’ll ever be,” you whisper back, looping your arm through his.

The music starts — a surprisingly heartfelt rendition of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” sung by Elvis — and you can’t help but laugh under your breath.

“You’re walking down the aisle to Elvis,” Lando says, shaking his head. “Unreal.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, though you’re smiling.

The walk feels like it takes forever and no time at all. Max’s gaze is fixed on you the entire time, his expression soft and unguarded in a way you don’t see often. By the time you reach him, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

Lando hands you off with an exaggerated sigh. “Take care of her. She’s the only one who can put up with you.”

“Don’t worry,” Max says, smirking as he shakes Lando’s hand. “I plan to.”

Lando steps back, but not before whispering, “If you hurt her, I’ll crash you out next season.”

Max laughs, then turns back to you, his hands finding yours.

“You look amazing,” he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“I look ridiculous,” you whisper back.

His grin widens. “Even better.”

Elvis clears his throat, drawing your attention. “Alright, folks, let’s get this show on the road!”

The ceremony is exactly as absurd as you’d expected, and yet somehow, it feels perfect.

“Dearly beloved,” Elvis begins, his voice smooth and practiced, “we are gathered here tonight to witness the union of Max and …” He pauses, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

You realize no one ever told him your name.

“Uh,” you startle back to reality for a moment, “Y/N.”

“Max and Y/N,” Elvis continues smoothly, as if this sort of thing happens all the time.

He launches into the ceremony, peppering in car-themed metaphors and Elvis song references.

“Marriage,” he says at one point, “is a lot like a road trip. Sometimes it’s smooth sailing, sometimes you hit a few potholes, but as long as you’ve got each other, you’ll always find your way back to Graceland.”

You glance at Max, who’s barely holding back a laugh.

“Are you laughing at our wedding vows?” You whisper.

“I’m laughing at the potholes,” he whispers back.

Elvis continues, undeterred.

When it’s time for the personal vows, Max surprises you.

“I know this is all … unconventional,” he says, his hands still holding yours. “But that’s us, isn’t it? Unconventional. From the first time we met, I knew you were different. You don’t just keep up with me; you challenge me. You push me to be better, on and off the track. And you put up with all my nonsense, which is honestly impressive.”

You laugh, tears stinging your eyes.

“I promise to always be your biggest fan, even when you’re cheering for your brother,” Max continues, his voice softer now. “I promise to always fight for you, always support you, and always love you, no matter how crazy life gets.”

You’re not sure when the tears started falling, but they’re there, hot and fast.

“Your turn,” Elvis says, nodding at you.

You take a shaky breath, your voice trembling. “Max, you drive me crazy. You’re stubborn, competitive, and impossible to argue with. But you’re also kind, loyal, and the most passionate person I’ve ever met. You make me laugh when I don’t want to, and you make me believe in things I never thought I could.”

His eyes soften, and you squeeze his hands tighter.

“I promise to always stand by your side, even when you’re impossible. I promise to love you, challenge you, and never let you win a bet without a fight.”

Max grins, and the rest of the room seems to fade away.

When Elvis finally declares you husband and wife, it feels like the world stops.

“You may now kiss your bride,” he says with a flourish.

Max doesn’t hesitate, pulling you close and kissing you like the world outside doesn’t exist. The room erupts into cheers, Lando’s voice loudest among them.

When you finally pull away, Max leans his forehead against yours, his voice barely a whisper.

“We did it.”

You smile, your hands resting on his chest. “Yeah. We did.”

And just like that, Max Verstappen is your husband.

***

The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughter, chaos, and an overwhelming sense of unreality. The “reception” is cobbled together on the fly, with Red Bull team members and an assortment of drivers spilling out of limos and taxis into a nearby lounge they commandeer for the celebration.

Max stays close to you the entire time, his hand resting on your lower back or entwined with yours. Every time you glance at him, he’s already looking at you, his expression so full of love it makes your chest ache.

Eventually, you both slip away from the commotion, winding your way back to Max’s penthouse. The city hums below, the neon lights still pulsing with energy, but inside, everything feels quiet. Peaceful.

You’re curled up together in bed, the chaos of the night left behind, when Max finally speaks. “So,” he says, breaking the comfortable silence, “are you going to tell me what your favor would’ve been if you had won the bet?”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I don’t think you’re ready for that, Verstappen.”

His brows lift, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, now you have to tell me.”

You tilt your head, feigning deep thought. “Well, it would’ve been something big. Something life-changing.”

His grin widens, and he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Life-changing, huh? What, were you going to make me switch teams? Retire early?”

You smirk, letting the pause hang in the air just long enough for him to grow impatient. “A ring.”

Max blinks, caught off guard for a split second. “A ring?”

“Mm-hmm.” You trace lazy circles on his chest, pretending not to notice his stunned expression. “I was going to ask for a ring. But you, being Max Verstappen, had to be a few laps ahead and beat me to it. Like usual.”

His laughter bursts out, warm and unrestrained. “You’re telling me you were going to propose to me?”

You shrug, unable to keep the playful smile off your face. “What can I say? I wanted to beat you at your own game.”

Max shifts onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you fully. His grin is impossibly wide, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement and something deeper. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You married me,” you point out, grinning back.

“I did,” he agrees, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “And I’d do it again. But I have to say, I think I prefer this version. Me proposing. You saying yes. Vegas. Elvis.”

You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance.” He’s still smiling, but his voice softens, turning serious. “I love you, you know. And I don’t care if it’s Vegas or a ten-minute ceremony or some ridiculous bet. This — us — feels right. It always has.”

Your teasing expression falters, replaced by something softer. “I love you, too. Even if you are insufferable.”

He chuckles, pulling you closer. “Insufferable and married. To you. Forever.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Forever, huh?”

“Forever,” he repeats firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And just for the record, I would’ve said yes if you’d proposed first.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His lips brush against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m glad I won this time.”

You laugh against his mouth, your arms winding around his neck as you pull him closer. “Don’t get used to it, Verstappen.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mrs. Verstappen.”

The name catches you off guard, and your heart stutters in your chest. Mrs. Verstappen. It’s ridiculous and perfect and makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“You like that?” He asks, clearly noticing your reaction.

You bite your lip, nodding. “I think I could get used to it.”

His grin returns, smug and full of mischief. “Good. Because you don’t have a choice now.”

You shake your head, laughing as you lean into him, letting the weight of the night settle around you. The city lights outside keep shining, the noise of Las Vegas carrying on far below, but in this moment, it’s just the two of you.

And that’s all that matters.

[pseudowho]

"Oh, fuck-- Kento, stopstopstop-- go back--"

Kento grimaced, almost comedically, as you tried to push him back out through the coffee shop doorway, and into the freezing rain. The bell above you dinged, and dinged, and dingalingdingdinged as the two of you battled, and the door danced back and forth against it.

Kento wouldn't leave the promise of fresh bread without a fight.

"-- if they haven't got the casse croute left, I'll be perfectly happy with something else-" (he wouldn't) "--and I can come back later to grab one for lunch tomorrow--" (he couldn't) "--and I'd just prefer to get out of the rain--" (please)

"No," you hissed, urging, "no, it's not that, it's--"

Kento blinked, one long, slow blink, over your shoulder. He clocked a man-- a familiar man, one whose photos he had once seen you tear to shreds-- who was sat at a window table already. Ah. He understood.

"Don't worry," Kento murmured, slipping a discrete, strong hand around your waist to press you through the doorway, as you looked up at him in anguish, "he won't bother us. But if he does--" (no, Kento-- you shouldn't--")

By the time the inevitable occurred, and your ex approached to wipe the smile off your face, Kento had already calculated the sum of the man, and found he came up short.

Kento watched you from over the rim of his cup, concealing a smirk in foam as you cold-shouldered your ex with such exquisite vindictiveness that he felt himself twitch against his thigh. Kento pinched your thigh, softly, as you stalked past him to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

Your ex chewed on something Kento only hoped was gum, and sat on your chair (have to dry-clean her coat for her, shit) and regarded Kento's beige suit with a shit-eating grin. He held out his hand, which Kento shook, despite its filthy nails (ugh).

"New guy, are you?" Said your ex, kissing his teeth with a glint in his eye, "How do you like my sloppy seconds?"

Kento smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, "I find flowers stay fresh and thriving in new soil, actually. And anyway, things were rather fresh after the first, ah...four inches, was it?"

Your ex balked, and recoiled. As he leaned back against his chair, his face turned puce, and he opened his mouth to make a scene, which we can't have, Kento, oh no, so--

"I advise you move forwards again-- just a little more-- there. Perfect."

Your ex, stunned, had followed Kento's mellow instruction without questioning, and shuffled back forwards into the fresh sunlight. Kento smiled again.

"There we go. Things don't grow in the shade. Would you like the lamp on? I can reach it for you."

Your ex scoffed now, and scoffed some incoherent curses, and scoffed himself into standing and tripping over the leg of his chair. You arrived back from the bathroom, and regarded your soiled chair with disgust.

"--you can keep her--" Your ex spat, jostling his pockets for his car keys, "--of all the cheek-- I'm leaving--"

"In that?" Kento regarded a car outside the coffee shop, as its one working indicator flashed to life, "I didn't bring my jump cables. Will you be alright?"

You choked into your latte, clattering it down onto the table to turn away and cough into your sleeve. Your ex looked as though he may hit Kento (he can try), but remembered himself, and went to move to the cashier.

Kento piped up one last time, barely audible above the coffee shop din.

"I wouldn't worry. I paid your bill, when we arrived. Buy yourself something...nice."

Your ex scarpered, bursting out of the door like a cat out of its cage. You took a bite of cake through teary-eyed, muffled laughter. Kento smiled over at you, leaning on one hand to admire your blossoms and life.

"You're such a bitch, Kento, I knew I shouldn't have left you alone with him--"

(you're right; you shouldn't have)

[hellfire--cult]

IDK IF IM HORNY OR HAPPY OR GIDDY

I LOVED EVERY INCH OF THIS, it was hot, but like I could feel the romance between them, the desperation of it even if not explicitly said in a rough manner, it was just a chef's kiss. It wasn't simply a smut scene with just horniness in it or with the intention of it just being sexual, it had so much much more and I loved this

𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐞.𝐦.

This piece contains 18+ content.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Female Reader [friends → lovers]

Summary Eddie holds good on his promise to take you out on a date, and as the night comes to a close, you realize you’re not ready to say goodbye [fluff, smut, 4.3k].

A/N This is the long-awaited continuation of come whatever may. You can read that first if you'd like, but enough context will be provided here. Spoiler alert: the sex is very soft, teasy, and desperate because they’re in l-o-v-e. Haven't written smut in nearly two years, but I evoked the muses of times past—and thus!...

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Summer is long gone, but when you open the door to Eddie holding flowers, the warmth that rises to your cheeks makes it feel nearer than ever. It’s a vibrant bouquet composed of white roses, red lilies, baby’s breath, and leafy foliage. The wrapper crinkles as he extends them to you with an easy smile and soft hello. Your eyes flick back up to his after admiring the delicate blooms. 

There’s a healthy flush to his cheeks, his curls neat and defined. The black leather jacket he’s wearing clings to his slender frame with a polished edge. Under the weight of your gaze, he huffs out a chuckle that reminds you you’re still on earth. 

“Gonna let me in, sweetheart?” Charm drips from his voice and shimmers within his chocolate eyes. 

Nodding, you shuffle backwards, allowing him to enter and push the door shut behind himself. As he steps further inside, you can feel his gaze sweeping over your outfit. An olive-green corduroy dress layered over a beige turtleneck that’s soft against your skin. His smile grows, glinting bright enough for anyone to believe he just won the Lotto when, really, it’s just the pretty sight of you holding the flowers he bought. 

“These are beautiful.” You raise the bouquet, but Eddie’s eyes remain on you. Seeking refuge from his gaze, you tuck your nose down to inhale the sweet fragrance of the petals. “They smell amazing too.” 

“That’s all you, sweetheart.” 

You get shy when his eyes meet yours. “You like my outfit and everything?” 

Eddie swallows back a degree of his earnestness so he doesn’t sound too far gone. “Of course I do, are you kidding me?” 

Seemingly out of nowhere, Robin descends the staircase with a bag slung over her shoulder like she’s prepared to leave, hair tied up in a messy bun. Given your parents were away in Indianapolis for the weekend, you’d asked her to come over and help you get ready so you wouldn’t be alone. 

Eddie’s eyes flick to her, clearing his throat. “Did you help her pick this out, Buckley?” 

“Obviously,” she smirks. “Nice hair.” 

“It is really nice,” you agree with a soft smile. Eddie lifts a passive shoulder, chest fluttering. 

“Rob, do you think you could…” she takes the bouquet without you having to ask. The two of you had shuffled through the attic and dug out a vase earlier that afternoon. 

Eddie had promised this date, along with flowers, a week ago when you slipped away from Steve’s party to be alone. That night, he’d kissed you in the heat of the moment but wanted to backtrack and do things right. You deserved that much. 

The time you’ve been looking forward to has finally come. 

With your hands now free, the only thing you can think to do is wrap your arms around Eddie. The world goes still as he hugs you back, nerves quelling beneath your skin. For a moment, you merely enjoy the warmth of the same arms you’ve been wrapped in countless times before. With your head tucked into his chest, enveloped by the faint scent of his cologne, you release all the worries that ride on the sweeping coattails of change. For a moment, he’s just Eddie, your best friend. 

When you pull away, he leans in, tilting his head with that familiar, boyish curiosity. “You alright?” he asks quietly, searching your gaze.

You nod, a smile breaking through. He takes your hand in his and gives it a squeeze, “Just checkin’.” 

Robin soon walks back into the foyer. “I put the flowers in a vase for you,” she announces, taking her hair down and shaking it out. “Hate to admit it, but you two are actually cute. It’s disgusting.” 

“Hey,” Eddie lifts his hands, laughing. “Little victories.” 

She adjusts her bag on her shoulder with a content sigh. “Welp, I’m about to go pester Harrington at Family Video.” She turns to Eddie, playfully narrowing her eyes. “You better treat her right, ‘cause best believe I’ll be hearing all about this date.” 

When she slips out the door, Eddie smiles at you in silent assurance. 

●・○・●・○・●

The sun hasn’t quite begun to set, but orange and pink faintly blend on the horizon. A cool fall breeze flows in through the cracked windows as the radio plays softly. Eddie had asked his Uncle Wayne to borrow his pickup truck because it’d be more romantic than his bulky van. You can’t say whether he was right, only that you’re grateful to be riding shotgun with him—headed to an unknown destination, no less. 

You’d already guessed through a list of places that Eddie denied with amusement. Sighing, you look out the window to people bustling about, walking dogs and strolling out of shops. You’re coming out of the more commercial side of town, nearing Lover’s Lake and the state park.  

“I give up,” you sigh. 

Eddie chuckles, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, ignorant to his warming effect on you. “Okay, fine, I’ll give you a hint.” That makes you peer over at him in interest. “If I had to guess, I’d say not a lot of people have had the chance to try it out yet.” 

That’s a dead giveaway. Your mouth falls open in surprise. “That new place along the lake—Stillwater Grill?” The twitch of Eddie’s lips is telling. “No way!” The excitement in your voice makes his chest tighten.

Stillwater was supposed to be good, from what you’d heard. A slightly elevated dining experience minus the formalities and steep pricing of a restaurant like Enzo’s. Where classic American favorites embrace small-town charm, according to the paper. 

Upon your arrival, the parking lot houses a pretty decent number of cars. Lover’s Lake provides a serene backdrop that catches the evening light. Couples stand outside admiring the view. Eddie opens your door and helps you out of the truck like a proper gentleman. You happily tuck yourself into him as you walk inside. 

When you were younger, you often wondered what love would be like. Books and the movies always presented countless possibilities, but you always believed it’d be special for you. So different that nothing else would be able to compare—perhaps, selfishly. One thing for sure, you never could’ve dreamed up someone like Eddie. 

As he sits across from you under the dim glow of the lights, laughter and chatter filling the air, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to put all this into words. Belly full, you realize what you’ve enjoyed even more than the food and cozy, rustic atmosphere was is company. 

Eddie has an inexplicably magnetic way. There was a magic in getting him all to yourself. In relishing the lovely sparkle in his eyes that suggested he was always on the verge of laughter. The passion he exuded made it seem like the way he loved a given thing was biblical. He could talk the ear off a cornfield if he wanted but knew instinctively when to listen. Even your passing remarks seemed to bear some semblance of importance to him.  

Conversing with him had always been easy, but without other people vying for his attention, you were truly able to admire the boy before you. To embrace the deepening attraction. 

As you wait for the waiter to bring the tab, you don’t realize you’ve grown silent and begun blinking at him with the fondest eyes. 

●・○・●・○・●

The wooden stairs of your front porch creak under both your footsteps as you climb them, stopping in front of your front door as the night settles around you. Moths flutter around the lanterns framing the door, crickets chirp in the lawn. Eddie kicks at a dead leaf, combing through a sea of thoughts in search of the right words. 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” he says. You wait for him to continue. His doe eyes search yours for the briefest moment, seeing right through you it seems. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? ‘Cause I think it’s gonna be hard for me to quit you.” 

Your mouth opens a couple times in a mix of giddiness and surprise. “Yeah,” you finally breathe. “Yeah, I’d love to be your girlfriend.” 

Smiling, he steps forward to capture your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that you feel everywhere. It manages to outshine the first, more desperate, kiss you’d shared a week prior. This one is steady and sure, like a promise sealed with a prim bow. When he pulls away to look into your eyes, you shyly duck your head. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” he asks, lifting your chin. 

He doesn’t want to go, instead wishing he could stall and stay right here with you. He’s parted ways with you hundreds of times before, but now he can’t seem to figure out how he ever did. That’s how he knows he’s in trouble. The best kind. 

“I’ll pick up,” you promise. 

He stands at your door until you see yourself inside. It’s quiet without him. Your eyes land on the flowers he got you, now in a vase in the living room thanks to Robin. Too quiet. The sound of your front door reopening stops Eddie in his tracks. He turns around with a slight furrow between his brows. 

“Everything okay?” he calls, mindful of his volume. 

You make a small motion for him to come back to you. He listens in a heartbeat. 

There’s a weighted look in his eyes beneath the playfulness, “Miss me already?” 

“No,” you lie. 

●・○・●・○・●

It’s a wonder how you manage to make it feel like there’s a pleasant fire kindling within him. What started out as yet another easy conversation, has turned into you straddling his lap on the couch, the fabric of your dress riding up your thighs as the TV drones in the background.

Everything feels heightened now. The brush of your lips against his, your fingers gently scratching at the nape of his neck. 

Eddie’s lips part in a soft, shuddering breath when you roll your hips over him. 

“Hold on a second, sweetheart.” His eyebrows are pinched as he pulls back from the kiss, hands stilling you. 

You blink down at him all owl-like. “Did I do something?” you murmur, purposely shifting over him again.

He restrains from canting his hips upwards. There’s a softness to his gaze even though his cheeks are flushed hot. 

“If getting me worked up counts. You’re real good at that.” His shamelessness is dizzying. “Just don’t wanna get ahead of myself.” It’s a subtle invitation, a chance for you to call things off in case you aren’t on the same page. 

But you can feel warmth pooling low in your belly. “What else am I good at?” 

He knows you’re game then. For whatever this is, whatever it’s bound to become. 

“Trying to pretend I’m not driving you crazy too.” He chuckles when you duck to hide your face in the crook of his neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. 

There’s a gentleness to the way Eddie’s hand slips beneath the hem of your dress, meeting the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 

“Eddie,” you murmur, lifting from his neck as his fingers continue their trail upwards.

“Hmm?” He pauses, thumb stroking your skin in soft circles. 

“Can we go to my room?” A slight shiver runs through you as his fingers move to trace along the crease of your thigh.

“Your call, sweetheart.” 

Before he withdraws his hand, he snaps the waistband of your panties and grins when you straighten.  

●・○・●・○・●

The lamp on your nightstand casts everything in a dim, warm glow. Eddie shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your desk chair, eyes roving over the notebooks and pens strewn about. The sight of his tattooed arms makes you move to kiss him again, letting your lips wander to the corner of his mouth and his chin in a trail of warmth. He throbs in his jeans when you slip your fingers beneath the hem of his shirt and curl them into his stomach. 

Reluctantly, he pulls away from your lips and he steps back enough to pull the fabric over his head in one swift movement, muscles rippling as the dark ink on his torso is revealed. With newly disheveled hair, he kisses you backward onto the bed, crawling over top of you as you settle into the mattress with a pleased hum. 

Having the upper hand allows him to press hot kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as you huff out sighs and caress his milky skin with buzzing fingertips. Nothing about his movements is rushed, each press of his lips intentional enough to believe he'd had them planned for years.

Eddie didn’t know your body yet, not in the way he’d like to. But he was reading it in real-time. Cataloging every writhe and hitch of your breath so he knew where to return. The obsessive part of his brain often gets on his nerves, but he’s grateful for it now. Grateful he wants to see every move and sound you can make. There’s an artistry to it, a musicality. 

An inkling of panic arises when he begins to suckle on the side of your neck as you offer it. Not because he’s being rough, but because it’s overwhelming enough to want to crawl out of your skin. A soft whimper rises up your throat as your hands find his flexed biceps, digging in. You’re unsure of whether to pull him closer or push him away. 

Eddie rises from your neck on his own accord, running a finger over the spot. “You like it when I kiss you here, huh?” There’s a slow, honeyed quality to his voice. 

When you offer a helpless nod, he leans back down again, and you shudder as his mouth laves over the same sensitive area a little ways beneath your ear. Exasperated, you blindly paw for the waistband of his jeans, fingers shaky as you fiddle with his belt buckle.

Feeling your struggle, Eddie moves to press a final kiss to your throat before pulling away from your neck. 

“Stupid thing,” you pant, pouting up at him for help. 

Chuckling, Eddie reaches down with one hand to undo it with ease. Then, watches with blown pupils as you hurry to undo the button and zipper. He slips off the bed as smoothly as he can to remove his pants, black boxers tented and straining. A spark of heat surges through you as you press your thighs together at the sight. 

No sooner is he crawling back to help you out of your clothes. The lacy underwear set you’re wearing beneath is a pretty shade of baby blue, and Eddie can’t help but palm himself. 

“Jesus,” he sounds awed and devastated at the same time. “You’re so gorgeous...” 

Before he’s even had time to process, you take off your bra, baring your chest for him to see. Your nipples pebble with the new exposure and all of two seconds pass before he’s surging forward, sending you tumbling back to the mattress in a breath of startled laughter he swallows down like a lifeline. 

You gasp into his mouth, back arching, as he cups one of your breasts, circling and rolling your nipple between his fingers. You’re barely kissing him back anymore, but he continues licking into your mouth as your lips part around shallow exhales. 

That’s when the phone begins to ring. Eddie sits back on his haunches despite your attempt to stop him. 

“Might be important.” His voice is rough. 

“They can leave a message.” 

He smirks, dragging a hand through his hair. “You sure?”

Lifting your leg, you run a careful foot over the swell of his boxers. He twitches at the contact. 

“You’re all I care about,” you murmur. “Need you, E.” There’s a desperate edge to your voice that draws him right back in.

“You’ve got me.” He runs a lone finger down the front of your panties. “Can I take these off?” You’re only half listening to his words, nodding to whatever. “Lift up for me.” The muscles of your thighs tremble as you do. 

Tossing your panties aside, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your belly button. Then another one just beneath it. A surprised sound rises up your throat when he gently spreads you open to kiss that swollen, sensitive part of you that’s pulsing with need.  

“Oh, gosh—” you stutter out, hands threading into his hair.

“Need me right here?” His voice is laced with a smile, and you can’t help a breathy laugh. Prideful warmth ignites in his chest. “Or do you need me somewhere else?” He trails playful, ticklish nips along your inner thighs, making you squirm. 

“Eddie, please…” 

He’s gracious enough to begin rubbing your clit in precise, measured circles, intently studying the pretty scrunch of your face.

“Firmer,” you instruct breathily, “—just like that, just like that.” Your legs spread wider instinctively, arching when he collects your slick with a slow, heavy finger. 

You’re already so on edge from his previous attention that it only takes a few moments before you ascend into bliss, muscles growing taut as your mouth falls agape. The strong, rhythmic pulses serve as your only touchpoint to reality along with Eddie’s tender caress at your slick, fluttering entrance. One he didn’t even have the chance to breach. 

“Look at you…” he says, voice thick. “Made it easy for me.” He laughs a little, more turned on than anything. 

“It’s not funny,” you halfheartedly assert, cheeks prickling. 

“No,” Eddie agrees. “Just super-duper hot.” 

As he raises up, you realize his other hand is tucked into his boxers, lazily stroking himself. A second wave of desire builds within you, overlapping the remnants of the first and any sense of embarrassment that had begun to kindle. It’s spurred by the deep flush of his cheeks, the way his eyes are soaking you in like he’s just witnessed the most beautiful unraveling. 

Under your hazy, watchful gaze, he scrambles off the bed. Without warning, he shoves his boxers down, kicking them from around his ankles. His arousal impressively springs up towards his stomach. You bite your lip at the rosy, leaking tip, the gorgeous vein snaking prominently along the underside. 

Eddie peeks over at you with a dazed quirk of his lips before retrieving his wallet from his jacket. He pulls out a square foil packet and promptly rips it open with his teeth. 

Upon crawling back into the bed, he isn’t expecting you to take his cock in a loose hold, stroking upwards from the curly hair at the base to circle your thumb around the tip. There’s a pleasant tug low in his gut as he kicks up in your palm. 

“Sweetheart…” His voice is soft, nearly a plea. You let your hand glide back down, this time venturing lower to cradle the soft weight hanging beneath. He nearly buckles forward. “What're you doing to me?” he rasps. 

“Nothing,” you murmur innocently, wetting your hand and giving him a few more easy strokes, enjoying the warm, veiny feel of him before withdrawing your touch. 

He curses under his breath as he rolls the condom down, his gaze never leaving you as you reposition yourself to take him. 

“Eager beaver,” you lilt as he crowds over you. 

“Yeah,” he exhales. “I am.” 

He lines up at your entrance, tip catching as he collects your slick with a wavering breath.  

You open your legs even wider. “Want you,” you murmur, breathy and sweet. 

The expression on his face is like something from a painting, raw and rapturous as he eases into your encompassing warmth. He takes it slow, giving you time to relax around him as you breathe through the dull ache of welcoming him in. A low, guttural sound escapes him once he’s buried all the way. 

Your chests brush. Tears prick in your eyes at the closeness, the feeling of being filled so completely. 

“You’re unreal,” he murmurs, lips clumsy against your chin. “Like I made you up in my head.” 

He begins moving, slowly drawing back only to push back in. A steady rhythm finds him as your mouth falls open, legs hooking around his thighs. The muscles of his back ripple with his effort, and you chart every tense line with your fingertips. 

With a low groan, he makes a minor adjustment to better reach that spongy spot within you. You arch into him with a whimper, breath catching in your throat. 

“There she is,” he whispers, reaching between your bodies to rub firm, steady circles against your clit. 

“Oh, god…” It sounds like you’re in pain even though you’re the furthest thing from it. When you close your eyes, tears stream down your face in twin streaks, surprising both of you. Eddie tenderly wipes them away, gaze soft. 

“You’re okay,” he promises. “It’s just me, angel.”

Except, Eddie isn't just anything. You’ve never felt so close to someone, so in tune, and somehow, it’s Eddie—sweet, goofy, wild-haired Eddie—who knew exactly what you needed. He picks up the pace as you arch and writhe beneath him, body yielding without question.

“You feel so good,” you whimper, clenching around him. 

His groan reverberates against your neck as his hips jerk sloppily, “Can’t say stuff like that…” Those words only make you tighten around him again.

The dazed way he mouths at your shoulder lets you know he’s clinging onto composure. You’re too warm, too everything—snug, and soft, and beautiful. He’s not ready for this feeling to end. This heady, binding haze of pleasure.  

“Eddie,” you breathe softly. “Wanna ride you…” 

Your plea nearly finishes him off. “Yeah?” he croaks.

You nod, whimpering. He barely withstands the feeling of slipping from within you. Shifting onto his back allows him a moment of reprieve, but he nearly loses himself when you straddle him, sinking back down with a circle of your hips. 

You brace your hands on his ribcage, steadily rocking on top of him as your head tips back. Sweat glistens in the divot of his sternum as he attempts to move in time with you. When you speed up, he closes his eyes to calm himself down. 

“Hey…where’d you go?” You croon, grazing your nails from his chest to his quivering stomach, relishing the feeling of his warm, dewy skin beneath your fingertips.

The wrecked way he forces his eyes back open almost makes you fall apart. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips as a greater sense of urgency awakens between you. It’s in the way you speed up, both eager, desperate, chasing. He memorizes the way your body moves over top of his, the bouncy sway of your chest. 

“You look so pretty taking me like this,” he shudders. “My pretty girl.” 

“Eddie…” you coo, high and breathy. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he chokes out. “Wanna feel you come around me so bad.” He’s babbling now, “Shit, I’m not gonna last. I can’t take it anymore, angel...I can’t—” 

The earnest crack of his voice sends you tumbling over the edge, vision spotting. Pleasure radiates throughout every fiber of your being as your walls contract around him. He stills your hips with a firm hold, bucking upwards and coming undone in surging waves. You slide your hands down his abdomen to feel him flex with each strong jolt that wracks him. 

As your body begins to relax, you blink down at him, lips parted as you catch your breath. Eddie throws an arm over his face as he sucks in air, neck and chest flushed pink. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. 

Both of you shudder as you ease off him. The pleasant ache of loss pulses between your legs as you partially lay down on top of him, hooking a leg over his waist. He traces along your thigh in light, soothing passes. You can feel his chest rising and falling. 

“You okay?” he eventually murmurs.

You nod, kissing his shoulder. “You?”

“I think so,” he chuckles weakly. 

●・○・●・○・●

The afterglow brings a quiet stillness to the air. Clean and beneath the sheets, you study Eddie’s long lashes, his nose, his plush lips. He eventually cracks a self-conscious smile.  

“What?” he questions. You shake your head because you don’t know what to say. He doesn’t look like he believes you. “C’mon...” 

So, you think of something, a small truth you’re willing to give him, “I just really enjoyed spending time with you tonight.”

He hums, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. “What was your favorite part?” 

“Probably the food at Stillwater,” you say, though your fingertips are tracing along his jaw, then down his neck, trailing to his waistline to lightly brush between his hip bones as he squirms. “Best I’ve ever had,” you lilt. 

Eddie breaks into a flustered laugh, leaning over to sleepily kiss the coy smile from your lips. 

“But really, though,” you say afterward. “Thanks for tonight. Never met a guy quite like you.” 

Eddie realizes then that he’d better get a head start on counting his lucky stars. 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think.

NEXT PART | PART ONE

MORE

[sukunasweetheart]

the tiger and his milk! 🐯

in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...

warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop

word count; 6.5k

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto

do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...

moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.

being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid. 

that, and also-

strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.

setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.

your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.

even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.

tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.

walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.

"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.

dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.

"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."

you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.

sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...

but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.

once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.

you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...

you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-

what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-

your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.

at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.

you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.

but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.

your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.

the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.

"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.

"need help?"

sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.

"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.

but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.

"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.

he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.

sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.

and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.

the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?

well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.

by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.

you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.

"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.

"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.

"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."

he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.

"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.

"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."

you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.

"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.

he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.

"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."

you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.

"...we're neighbours, after all."

you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.

"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.

seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.

"thanks for the drink. see you."

it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.

not at all...

the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.

it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.

such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.

today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.

nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.

you can feel your breasts leaking again.

just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.

your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.

the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...

it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.

you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...

just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.

who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.

but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.

sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.

he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.

"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.

sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...

"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.

"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.

"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.

"hold on a second."

you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.

once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?

in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.

your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.

sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.

"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.

"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.

he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.

your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.

"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.

you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.

you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.

"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.

"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.

sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.

"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.

sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.

"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.

not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching against the couch. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.

the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder under him, becoming pliant with his touch.

sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...

his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.

"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.

he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.

"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.

sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.

your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.

sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.

he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.

"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.

sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.

your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.

sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.

"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.

"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.

"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.

"shut up, you."

in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.

you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.

"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.

"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.

you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.

he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.

you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.

"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...

"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.

the realisation hits you like a truck.

"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.

and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.

you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.

as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.

he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.

"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.

you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.

"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.

your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.

"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.

and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.

you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.

"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.

sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.

"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."

his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.

you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.

"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.

he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.

sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.

when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.

his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.

the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.

sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.

sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...

but you make him feel so right.

and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.

"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.

you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.

the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.

"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.

"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.

"hold onto me."

he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.

when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.

the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.

he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.

sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.

you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.

his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.

his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.

you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.

"f-fu-uuck..." he drones out, his voice dragging the curse word out.

you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.

sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.

you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.

once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.

problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.

you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.

"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.

"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.

"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.

when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.

"finally awake?"

"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.

"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.

"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."

"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.

"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.

you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.

"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.

"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.

you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.

"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.

"hm. well, how about steak?"

"... is that a threat?"

sukuna bursts into laughter.

he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.

unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.

after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.

when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...

the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!

originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...

btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...

anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn

often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy

thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.

and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.

and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"

there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.

"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?" a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.

it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.

also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.

when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you

he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.

shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.

the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.

the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days

the end

Masterlist

[nochepsicodelica]

You and Toji are sitting at a table at a bar, talking about different things that went on throughout your days over some drinks. Toji tells you about how Shiu's been a real asshole lately, because his marriage is hanging on by a thread and he hasn't gotten laid in almost a month. He gives you a look that you interpret as him saying 'thank fuck that's not us' to which you respond with a little smirk.

When it's your turn, you tell him about how the new hire broke the copy machine, knocked over and broke the water gallon for the water dispenser, and crashed into someone, spilling hot coffee all over their shirt, all in the course of one day.

"That poor fucker's cursed," Toji says, amusement riddling his expression as he brings his glass of whiskey to his lips.

"He looked like he really needed a hug by the end of the day," you add, biting back a smile, before you take a sip of your own drink.

"Tell me you didn't," Toji says, taking in the seemingly telling look on your face. "Ma."

"I'm kidding. It's jokes, baby. I have no interest in hugging someone I haven't spoken a single word to."

Toji flicks your forehead, watching with a grin as you bring a hand up to rub the sting away. "Gotta piss, be right back, doll. Want another drink before I come back?"

"I'll wait for you to finish yours," you say, to which he nods before standing up from his seat.

"Be right back," Toji repeats, affectionately setting a heavy hand on your head, before he heads off in the direction of the restrooms.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and scroll through your socials while you wait. Altogether, Toji was gone for no longer than four minutes, and yet somehow, that was enough time for a rando to pull a chair up to your little table and start a conversation with you.

"Hey," he starts. "Why are you sitting here looking all lonely?"

You turn your head to face the person with the unfamiliar voice, slightly widening your eyes as if to question if he's talking to you. He looks at you with raised eyebrows, awaiting your response. "Oh, i'm not here alone. My boyfriend is in the bathroom," you respond, with a polite smile, before returning your attention to your phone.

"Ah. What kind of man leaves a pretty thing like you by herself in a place like this?" The stranger says, in a tone that almost seems pitiful towards you.

You look at him again and attempt to keep your expression neutral. "He'll be back any second now. He's just taking a piss, i'll be fine. Unless you're here to make things troubling for me."

The man chuckles, entertained by your quick shift in tone. "With a feisty attitude like that and a pretty mouth to keep up, it seems like you want me to get you in trouble."

You furrow your eyebrows, blatantly offended by his inappropriate insinuation. It's disturbing to see how he turned your warning into something sexual.

"I already told you, I have a boyfriend. Try someone else," you respond, no longer hiding your irritation.

Toji scans the room for the table you're sitting at, locating you and who-the-fuck in three seconds. This man looks awfully cozy with you, leaning in close every time he speaks to you, so he doesn't stand around any longer and quickly makes his way back to you and this new "friend".

"You sure you don't want another drink, doll?" Toji asks, sitting down in front of you, again, his gaze darting between you and this pocket square looking man. There's a difference between your demeanor from before he left and now. You clearly aren't comfortable, anymore.

"That's it? That is your supposed boyfriend?" The man asks, attempting to minimize Toji by referring to him as if he's nothing in comparison to himself. "Oh, princess. You see this watch?" He asks, raising the cuff of his sleeve to fully reveal his golden watch. "Four thousand dollars, and that's chump change."

You look at Toji and pull his hand into your shaky one, giving him a forced smile. Toji keeps his eyes on yours as the stranger continues spewing arrogant sludge about how much money he makes a year and how even the luxury car he has parked outside didn't put the smallest dent in his wallet.

"You would have it so good with me, baby," he continues blabbering. His hand goes to your wrist, a gesture that Toji quickly puts an end to by aggressively shoving the man's hand away, your empty glass clattering on the table from the force. Toji would have snapped the man's wrist and twisted his hand off, but he didn't want to scare you with the bloodshed. He feels like he's buzzing from the anger bubbling inside, and surely it won't be long before he acts out.

"Don't fucking touch her," Toji spits, glaring at the man with an expression that would have put him six feet under, if looks could kill.

Your heartbeat is in your ears and your blood is boiling. This man is disgusting for being persistent towards someone who doesn't want him. It's masochism, at this point, with the amount of times that you've made it clear that you're not interested.

The man snorts, snobbishly. "He brought you here, of all places. Even just glancing at him, you can tell this cheap ass place is all he can afford. He'll never be able to give you everything you want, so just come with me, doll face."

You rip your hand out of Toji's grasp and stand from your chair, delivering a resounding blow to the man's already hideous face. Tables and chairs wobble as he tries to keep his balance, but when you quickly strike him again, hard enough to increase the pain you felt in your knuckles with that first hit, you manage to knock him onto the ground.

"Fuck you, you fucking asshole. You don't know shit!" You grit out, dropping down to try and land another hit to the man's bleeding face. By now, Toji is behind you, restraining your arms and pulling you back as a small crowd begins to form to observe the commotion.

"Ma, come on. Let's just go."

"Let me dent his fucking face in, Toji," you mutter, writhing in his grip.

The vile man manages to sit up, dabbing his fingertips against his busted lip. Though there is red blossoming on his face, his lips still form an amused, twisted smile. He laughs as he watches you get reeled back by Toji, seething as you are dragged away like a child having a meltdown in the middle of a store.

"Hey-- Hey, I said let's go," Toji says, his tone sharper when you continue to try to break out of his hold to fight the idiotic sociopath.

You take a deep breath and stop, willingly letting Toji take you away from this chaos you created in his defense. His hand rests on the nape of your neck, as he guides you through the stuffy bar and leads you outside to the car.

"Stop pacing," Toji says, watching as you threaten to make the asphalt beneath your feet waste away with every step you take in your heated state.

"Fucking asshole, dickhead, motherfucker." You groan, loudly, furiously, before covering your face with your hands. "It's fine, it's fine," you mumble to yourself.

"Then, stop pacing," he repeats, watching on as you walk the same steps, over and over, as if you're on autopilot. "Ma, eyes. Eyes." His hands go to your shoulders, manually forcing you to halt your movement. "Listen to me. I said eyes."

"I'm so... I can't stand still," you say, weakly.

"Stop looking around. Right here," Toji instructs, lifting one hand from your shoulder and pointing two fingers at his eyes. You release a shaky puff of air and hold his gaze as best as you can.

"Talk when you're ready," he says, following your eyes whenever they derail from his.

You aren't ready soon enough. You feel like your heart is trying to burst out of your chest and the adrenaline coursing through you isn't helping at all. Your hand hurts. Your knuckles feel bruised and they're bloody. The night might be ruined, but you felt your reaction was the only way to release the pain you felt when that nothing started talking the way he did about Toji. All you can think to do is hug Toji to prevent yourself from crying about your cause for attacking the gross man. It's all so much. You've never felt so strongly for someone, to the point where you hit a stranger for insulting them. It's scary how Toji brings that defensive, yet, offensive side out of you.

Strong, heavy arms reciprocate your embrace, keeping your tense body close. You feel warm and safe, his scent and the pressure of his hold managing to slowly calm your unsteady heartbeat. After a few seconds of quietness, you turn your head and rest the side of your face on him, finally prepared to speak.

"I didn't like how he was talking about you, Toji. He was talking shit even before you came back, and I hated it. I hated it so much, that I felt nauseous and if I hadn't done something, I would have been sick."

Toji sighs, not out of disappointment or feelings of that sort, but because you seeking out danger for his sake, was not something he ever wanted to see.

"Doll, you know how much I love you."

This sounds like a layer of sugar preceding a talking to. You're trying not to be nervous before the scolding even begins, but you feel the need to brace yourself, as well.

"I love you, too," you mumble.

Toji knows it. He's known it all along, and the events that transpired tonight were just another way of you proving your love and showing how much he matters to you.

"Want you to look at me," he says, lowering his arms on your back, allowing you to make the space necessary to give him your attention. He offers you a soft smile. "Don't get all fidgety on me after you just ripped a stranger's face open."

"I feel like you're about to yell at me," you say, lowly.

That makes him want to laugh, but he keeps his amusement to a minimum, since you're clearly anticipating something terrible.

"Nah. When have I ever raised my voice at you?"

"Never."

"Exactly. Never, and I won't start now, but I want you to get this through your pretty head... It's not your job to beat people up for me."

"I know, but-"

Toji shakes his head. "Hold on, mama. Let me finish talking, then it'll be your turn."

Your heart feels like it's in the depths of your stomach, but you nod, and allow him to continue talking.

"I'm not mad at you, i'm not gonna yell at you. Just wanna keep you safe, is all. That guy was already a fuckin' weirdo, harassing you like that and trying to get you to go with him while I was right there. I wouldn't be surprised if he was into hitting women, too, if he's so comfortable with making them uncomfortable."

It's quiet while you think of what to say. You don't want this to escalate into something that turns you against each other, when it started out as an act of love. You could argue about how you did this to defend him, but in the end, you know his own need to protect you, will stomp all over your arguments.

"I'm sorry we had to leave, but i'm not sorry for the reason behind it. I don't regret what I did."

"Ma..."

"No, Toji. He didn't even know you and yet he still said things that aren't fair." Your voice quiets down, the beginnings of stronger emotions threatening to outwardly reveal themselves. "He insulted you. He questioned your abilities as my boyfriend when he saw me alone— even after I told him you just went to the bathroom. He judged you superficially, he said you can't give me everything I want and--" you pause, interrupted by a shaky inhale and the painful lump in your throat. "Sorry," you mumble, when the first set of tears roll down your cheeks.

"No, you're alright," Toji says, in response, his warm hands coming up to cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping away your fleeing tears. There's a small pinch in his brows. Why are you crying? It's something he can't ask you, because he knows that if he makes a big spectacle out of it, you'll end up drowning in your tears and shutting down everything you have to say. He resorts to keeping your cheeks dry and encouraging you to keep talking.

"Go on, mama."

You sniff, before picking up where you left off. "I don't care about all that, Toji. I don't care where we go to spend time together, because we're together. I need you, not for you to buy me things or take me to fancy places. That's not what I'm with you for."

Your heart is beating fast, again, its rhythm no longer controlled by fear or nerves, but instead the focus that Toji has on you. He's good at holding eye contact with you, something that occasionally gets distracting if you become too aware of it. You notice that his expression is softer. Maybe it's your brief flash of tears or the way you are always subconsciously finding a way to indirectly recite some of the reasons for why you love him.

"I love you, Toji. That means I won't just sit around and let someone talk about you like you're worthless. And I know, I know you can handle things like this on your own and you don't need me, but it was hard to listen to that."

You pause, as if to give him a break from your bulldozing heart. Silence takes over the moment, both of you just looking at each other. Toji's speechlessness has you wondering if you spilled too much of your heart out to him. You know some things are better left to be figured out, such as the range of a person's love, and yet you just poured without measure. "You can call me crazy if you want to."

Toji's shit-eating grin is unexpected, but it's definitely a sight that lifts some of the heaviness you feel in your chest.

"You love me," Toji says, still smiling like a doofus. He knows your serious facade will crack if he looks at you like this for long enough. He can already see a shift in the expression of your eyes and the way your lips are pressing together just a little more. He tilts his head slightly, a gesture that pushes you even further towards that pretty smile he wants to see. When you finally crack and give into his charm, you do so with a mutter of 'you're so dumb.'

"I'm glad that's what you got out of my rambling," you say, wholeheartedly and in better spirits. Toji pulls you in, this time, his soothing warmth and familiar scent tangling around you, again. His chin rests on top of your head and his arms secure themselves around you, tightly.

"I'm not gonna call you crazy, ma. It's not what I think. Also, don't go saying things that aren't true. I do need you," Toji says, his voice level kept at an intimate volume, as if there are other people there in the parking lot with you. His words are solely meant for you to hear anyway and getting them to you in this manner ensures that you won't go home with your heart feeling heavy, after a talk that was meant to comfort you.

"You know, I don't care what other people think— and that's not to say I don't appreciate you throwing a few punches for my sake. You're a sweetheart and you care so much, but if it's a stranger saying some unimportant, dumb shit, it takes a lot for it to actually get to me. If it really bothered me, they'd be gone."

"Yeah... I know," you mumble, into his shirt, knowing you would do it again and again— countless times. You loosen your arms around Toji and he does the same, his hands dragging towards your waist after you separate.

"How's that hand?" Toji asks, picking your wrist up before you can even respond. He whistles at the sight of the slight swelling and the dry specks of crimson spotted over your knuckles.

"A little tender," you say, feeling a tinge of fear when his other hand lifts off your waist to feel the damage.

"Looks real good on your pretty hand," he says, dragging his index finger over the protruding bones of your hand.

"Does it?" You ask, your barely there smile falling when you wince at the little bit of pressure Toji applies.

"No," he responds, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the sore area. You wince again when his thumb drags over your skin with slightly more pressure than before. "It doesn't. We'll ice it when we get home, alright?" He lets up on the torturous touching, but keeps your hand in his. The words aren't meant to hurt you. He doesn't mean them and he hopes he communicates that with the way he still opts to hold your hand. Your hands will always be pretty to him, he just can't say that to you, right now. Not if it serves as the smallest bit of encouragement for you to repeat what happened earlier, in the future.

"Okay." You nod.

"Gimme a kiss and we can go home or wherever, if you wanna stay out."

You tilt your head up and wait for his lips to meet yours. It's a gentle brush of lips, but the second Toji's hands start slipping under the back of your sweater and your shirt, you know it's going to be more than a single kiss. You can feel the night's cold wind nipping at your skin, as his hands go higher up, his fingertips reaching just below the hooks of your bra. To your surprise, he unhooks the garment, causing you to quickly press your hands to your chest when the cups loosen, to prevent them from fully sliding down.

"Toji," you manage to utter out during the wave of kisses. You turn your head, receiving a kiss that was meant for your lips, on your cheek.

"Yeah... I think we should go home," he murmurs, against your skin. "Maybe we can rock the car a little bit before we go, hm?" Toji smirks when you let out that flustered giggle he's so familiar with. He presses another kiss to your cheek before you turn to face him, again.

"Okay, but let's not blow it all here. We have a nice and comfortable bed at home. Let's add another good night to it."

You don't miss the way Toji's lustfully lidded, green eyes, keep glancing down at your hands on your chest, or how he's mindlessly caressing your bare waist, under your shirt.

"Alright, ma." He pulls out his car keys and with the press of a button, the car unlocks with a beep and the brief, dull sound of flipping locks. "Get inside."

[bunnys-kisses]

shut up and put your money where your mouth is

max verstappen

tags: smut/pwp, driver!reader, rivals au, bickering/fighting, married in vegas, drinking, doggy style, rough sex, dirty talk, hangovers, 2.5k words

a/n: happy las vegas gp everyone!

wheel to wheel. toe to toe. cheek to cheek.

this was the dance you did with the three time world champion. the rivalry that put mclaren and red bull up against one another. and in the lead up to the las vegas grand prix, it was you and max's world and everyone else was just living in it.

"you should smile more." he said at the bar in one of the casinos on the strip. he pinched your cheek and you wanted to bite him.

you replied shortly, "i'll smile when you give me something to smile about. don't think i forgot the last race." you were barely edging max in points with the season wrapping up.

he just smiled, "i know you'll be smiling when i bring it all home in a few weeks. don't you worry." then pinched your cheek once more.

damn max verstappen.

the rivarly started years ago. max was the youngest rookie and you were a few months older than him. along with being the first female in far too long. the hype around your arrivals to the sport caused you two to step on each other's toes. both of you felt an overbearing responsibility to be the best. your father breathed down your neck on the track just as much as max's did down his.

and even after years in the game, you were both painfully in each other's orbit. so much so that your dear teammate oscar once said, "i'm pretty sure if you two weren't in formula one you'd be married by now!"

you replied with a laugh, "oh please, i'd never! not in a million years." but last vegas was the city of opportunity, and before an exciting weekend you went out for a few drinks with your rival. and as much as the city has opportunity, it was still sin city.

enough gin and tonics for max to feel a little more relaxed. and enough cranberry-vodkas to leave you feeling warm all over. what sent you over the edge with him was his flushed face and him undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. your eyes raked over his almost exposed collarbones and you shifted in your seat.

you swallowed and took another hearty drink, which only fueled a sexual fire in your belly. you felt something hot run through you at the sight of him. you looked away to try and not think too hard about it. you played with the gold chain around your neck.

max leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at your neck, "did i buy that for you?" he put his arms on the table and his expression was drunken as he said, "wearing what i bought you?" he laughed, "if i know you'd wear it. i would've bought you a ring."

you felt heat rise in your cheeks more, "i think people would get the wrong idea. we're supposed to hate each other. the headlines would be insane, max verstappen buys ring for his rival."

he chuckled, "well, you are my favourite." he swallowed and darted his gaze quickly, "my favourite rival." then took another hearty sip of his drink.

you licked your lips, "just a rival?" you asked softly. the liquor emboldened you and you let go of your necklace. in a moment of weakness you reached for his hand and asked, "not even friends?"

max swallowed, "not friends."

you felt ice wash through your core at his words. a tightness in your chest prevented any words from coming out.

max realized in his drunken haze that he only said half of the sentence. when you pulled your hand away, he was desperate to grab it back. shock crossed his expression, "no, no! not like that!" liquid courage made him say the words, "not a friend. a lover."

the words tumbled out of your mouth, "verstappen... i'm saying this on the most certain terms... take me. fuck me. do whatever you want to me." you swallowed.

-

you held the trophy over your head. you beamed with pride after your country's national anthem. you did it, you won the first race of many. as max then sprayed you with champagne, there was a single thing on his mind.

you'd be his one day.

-

you made it to the elevator with max in tow. you were headed to his room. you held his shoulders who he held you to kiss you deeply.

"as good at kissing as you are at racing." you giggled.

"oh, are you giving me a compliment? never heard that before." he smiled at you. he had you by the waist.

"don't get used to it. if you don't make me cum, then i'll never let you live it down." you held his face for a moment, "i will tell everyone that the great max verstappen can't make a woman cum."

he pressed you further against the wall of the elevator, "oh don't worry, i'll make you feel good."

the elevator dinged and you both stumbled out of it. max trapped you against the door while he loomed over you and tried to open it. it was hard to kiss your heated skin and open a door at the same time. on top of being drunk.

"focus on one thing." you groaned.

"if i do then i'll be fucking you in the hallway. and wouldn't that be the scandal of the season." his words struck something in you and when the door was opened, you were pushed inside.

when you caught your footing, you got your heels off. max wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up. while you weren't stick thing (couldn't be in formula one, not with all that force), but max was simply stronger. he got you both over to the bedroom before he cornered you. you squirmed and he said, "stop moving or i'll drop you." and soon got you onto the king sized hotel bed.

he undid al the bottoms of the shirt and got his belt off as well, he stripped those from himself along with his slacks. in just an undershirt and his briefs in the end, he got onto the bed with you. the dress would've been torn off of you if you weren't fast enough. max groaned when he shoved his face between your soon bare breasts.

"just like i imagined." he groaned. his hands were at the waistband of your panties, "fuck. i need more." and while he got your panties off, you got your bra off.

"you really are excited." you shuddered as your hand up under his shirt. his shoulders were framed by the straps of the undershirt. he looked a little more domineering, which only raised the heat in your body.

"how could i not be? look at you!" he purred before he got the white undershirt off along with his dark briefs.

both of you were naked and tumbled fully onto the bed together. you kissed him once more until you ended up on your stomach with your face in the pillows. max admired your strong back. being a driver meant exhibiting a strength which you presented in spades. strong in so many ways, which was an aspect that pulled max in.

enamored was a term he could use. but that implied it was casual, but max's feelings were far from casual. you were next to the blood in his veins. the spark in his life, the heat in his soul.

he lined his cock up against your soaked cunt. he felt drawn to you, like a siren's call. he couldn't help it, he had been needing this for a long, long time. he sank into you and you felt the excitement of pleasure rush through you as you laid out in the bed.

"at least a decade in the making." he groaned, "ten years, ten years i've been wanting you." he felt a moan leave his lips. two drunks fucking in an expensive hotel room. two multi-million dollar drivers rutted together with a hot passion between you two.

"fuck, don't make me feel old." you buried your face further into the covers and arched your back further. pleasure bloomed through you. you could never truly hate max. it wasn't in you.

max leaned in to kiss you on the centre of your back as he moved against you. his hot breath against you warm back, he felt the thrill of pleasure as he worked you slick cunt. your pussy felt like a dream, while drunk, you still felt perfect. you let out a soft moan as he moved.

"fuck."

"please, max."

"i know."

you were near certain that this was what the entire grid was hoping for. you knew that people shipped you two together. you see the edits, the reddit threads, the fan art, the fan fiction. and you knew the paddock talked.

you gripped the soft pillow under your face and you whined a little bit. the wooden headboard rocked against the white wall of the bedroom. you hoped that checo's room wasn't on the other side. you'd never hear the end of it.

max wrapped his strong arms around your middle and continued to fuck you. he moved against you. his cock bullied against your g-spot and you were left breathless. you wanted him, you wanted him in ways you never thought you'd ever admit.

max lit a fire in you. to push yourself harder an further, you were only as strong as your ability to match max. and your rival made you the best. you clutched onto the pillow and felt a stagger in your heart. your mind was filled with pleasure, but also the liquor. in some way, vodka only made things feel more intense.

you felt it race through your body as the two of you fucked on the soft bed. the slogan from vegas was true, anyone could get lucky here. and you got rather lucky with max.

he held onto you tighter, his strong arm around your middle as he rutted against you. it was a protective feeling to you and you loved the feeling. you guessed that he was a protective force in your life, no one bothered you with max around.

you hissed into the pillow and you felt the surge of intense want. this was a feeling you wanted to feel again, again, and again. you held on tightly and the immense heat just dragged you into the depths of pleasure.

"please, max. i want you. fuck, i didn't know i could want a rival so badly. you're as much in my soul as the engine of my car. ever since we met, i knew you'd be a force in my life. i need you more than i need anyone else. fuck." you rambled, muffled by the covers, and max loved it.

you were always delicate with your words and to hear profanity leave your lips so freely made max run hotter. the way you spoke as you lost all rationality in your head.

he had an effect on you, even on the grid and you wanted to kill him. you never did, not when he looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes. he was your weakness, hence why you were rivals. the pleasure continued to mount, the feeling was electric. it made you hold on tightly, your back arched as he worked your body. you felt on cloud nine, not a care in the world. the want rolled through you and you moaned his name out loud once more.

"fuck, max!" you came around his cock with your nails dug into the pillow. he pressed himself up against your back and continued to fuck you with a feverish face.

the bed creaked under the both of you and the over stimulation made your head swim. you felt the heavy rush and he only kept moving against you. sweaty chest up against your sweaty back. thrusting against you, the pleasure built up in his brain.

the pleasure reached its peak and max slammed his cock as deep into you. he tried to get as deep as he could get and it made you climax once more. he rode out his orgasm, and soon he slowed to a stop. he felt racing in his chest. he wiped sweat from his forehead then kissed your back.

"max."

he pulled out and laid out next to you. he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest. he peppered your face with sloppy kisses and you melted at his tender touch. even with his caring touch, his words caught you off guard, "fuck, let's get married."

and as you got lost in his eyes, you nodded, "sure."

-

the sun come morning burned and you turned over to look away from the window. you cracked open your eyes and the hangover weighed on you like a heavy blanket. you were met face to face with max, who was asleep beside you.

your eyes went wide and you pulled away from him. your chest tightened as you pulled the sheets closer to your chest. your heart leapt and you swallowed. when you looked down at your shaky hands, you saw a ring at your left hand. a shocked noise left your lips at the sight of it.

the ring was a gold band with a small diamond. you swallowed, there was no doubt what it was. you got very drunk and you got married. a nagging feeling of who you married was soon answered when you saw max shift and he had a matching gold band on his ring finger.

this was only confirmed when you opened instagram. and the post you were greeted with was of your hastily put together wedding. you looked happy as you kissed him. it felt like the rest of the platform was in a tizzy over this sudden wedding.

a sports reporting outlet had the caption, "mclaren's princess has tamed the bull!!" with a photo of you at the alter, your lips against max's. the next post read, "verstappen ties the knot with long time rival before the las vegas grand prix." you stomach sank and the reality was a cold splash of water.

post after post, reactions from what felt like everyone. you only came back to focus when you felt max's arm drape around your waist.

"max, we're in trouble..." you swallowed.

he slowly opened his eyes. he held onto you tightly for a moment before he kissed at your side. his expression was dreamy, still asleep as he let go of you. his expression changed suddenly when he noticed the ring on his finger. his eyes went wide before he took your hand and saw your ring.

"oh..."

"max, say something." you tried again, your voice tight. you felt the immense anxiety through you. what would the fia say? what would the press say? what would every other goddamn driver say?

it was bad enough people speculated for years about you two, but to have it come to reality was terrifying. but max didn't seem as scared as you.

he looked at you, only to shift closer. he kissed your side once more then said, "well, good morning then, mrs. verstappen." <3

[constellationguy]

Lies the Genshin Men say

*little explicit here and there*

Explicit sections: Childe, Dottore-ish, Kaeya, Baizhu

The Harbingers

Pierro: He says he prefers to see you in his colors, mainly blues and black. Truthfully he adores you in red. He can’t keep his hands off you when you wear red. He also buys you anything that’s red, dresses, shoes, lipstick, flowers, all because the color reminds him of you. For events he prefers you to wear jewelry with darling bright sapphires but your jewelry case is filled with too many rubies to count.

Il Capitano: He says he prefers his hair straight and unrestrained. The truth is he will fall asleep if you play with or style his long back hair. Capitano feels the most loved when you are braiding his hair or giving him a scalp massage. When he misses you he braids his hair but he starts at the nape of his neck because his big fingers can’t braid from the top of his head like you do.

Pantalone: He claims he doesn’t care what perfume you wear. This statement is partly true. During galas and social functions he tells you to wear sents that are known to be pricey but not oppressive, expressive and understated he says. However at home he loves your natural sent, with out shame he will set you on his lap and tuck his face into your neck and take a deep breath, it seems like a sigh but he really is smelling you.

Childe: He tells you he loves everything about you equally, but it’s clear that he adores your boobs the most. Ajax loves to hug you from behind and squeeze or caress your chest while hugging you and will whine and beg to let him if you deny him. He loves to burry his head in your chest after a long day. When you don’t wear a bra you can persuade him to do pretty much anything.

Scaramouche: He tells you that he doesn’t care if you learn Japanese or not. In reality his knees will buckle if you call him “Anata” (honey or darling, typically said by a wife to their husband). When you speak with him in Japanese he is so much more animated and emotional. His heart swells with pride when you two speak Japanese in domestic settings. Sing to him in Japanese and he will cry and or fall asleep.

Dottore: He claims to be dominant, which he is, most of the time. He will boss anyone around and make them conform to his will, but he will burn the world for you if you wanted. You tell him to jump and he will ask how high. He will also be extra pliant if you tug on his hair a bit.

Mondstadt

Albedo: He tells you he doesn’t mind not having a “domestic” relationship. In truth he loves seeing you play with Klee. He loves when you cook for him. He loves coming home to you, if he could freeze time to stay in those homey moments he would.

Diluc: He tells everyone that he doesn’t play any interments. However at home he will play the sweetest melodies for you on the piano. His playing is for your ears only. The only other people he will play for is your future children.

Kaeya: He promises you that he will never hurt you. However, he will bite, scratch, and suck on your skin all day every day if you let him. He adores leaving possessive marks on you as well as giving you painful pleasure, the best kind of pleasure in his book.

Venti: He claims to be chill and not possessive at all. But he will stare and scowl at people being flirty with you. He will place his hands possessively on your waist when anyone gets too close to you. He would keep you locked up at home if he could, he just could never share you with anyone.

Liyue

Baizhu: Baizhu claims to dislike your bossiness, but in fact in almost any scenario it kinda turns him on. He loves when you use him for your own pleasure. He loves when you tell him what to do to make you happy or to get you off.

Xiao: He tells you that he doesn’t what anymore people in his life. However, he truly wants a few kids of his own running about, helping him make breakfast for you every morning. The thing he wants most is a family with you.

Zhongli: Not exactly a lie but Zhongli doesn’t like you eating non home cooked food. Any food that isn’t made by someone he trusts, he won’t let you eat. However whenever you’re feeling down or kind of out of it he will order food and bring it home to make you smile.

Inazuma

Goro: He tells everyone who asks that he hates his ears and tail touched, everyone is too rough with them. On the other hand, you’re so gentile with him, when you play with his hair that he can’t help but enjoy when you gently pet his ears.

Kazuha: He will tell you that the world is inspiration. He tells you his poems stem from the sights he sees and emotions he feels as he travels. But in truth Kazuha has not written one poem without you on his mind, you have been his muse and inspiration since you met.

Ayato: He says he doesn’t mind what you wear. But he can’t help but feel happy when you wear the expensive silk sets he bought you. Silk just fits you for some reason. To him silk complements your soft skin perfectly, the smooth reflective fabric just radiants and amplifies your beauty.

Heizo: Whenever he is tired he will go on and on about how he “isn’t sleepy” or how he’s “just gonna rest his eyes.” This man is stubborn when it comes to going to bed. He just wants to spent more time with you. You might have to make him tea and scratch his back while he lays on you to get to fall asleep without a fuss.

Thoma: He claims to be neither here or there on who cooks meals. In actuality in his brain he cries and begs for your cooking. It could be any cuisine and he will be happy. He just loves your cooking and your adoration especially after a long day of taking care of others.

Itto: Itto tells anyone and everyone that he’s married to you. He just loves you so much and fantasizes about your wedding to much sometimes he forgets you’re not actually married yet.

Sumeru

Alhaitham: He tells you that you can sleep by yourself. In reality you and him both know you can’t sleep without each other. If you’re angry with him and you sleep on the couch you two will end up making up in the night when he comes a picks you up to take you back to your shared bed.

Cyno: He claims to not get jealous often but truthfully he craves your attention and gets jealous when he doesn’t get it. He knows how his friends don’t favor his humor so he gets a little insecure when you laugh at their jokes sometimes. Just know he will be clingy behind closed doors to make up for being jealous of his own friends.

Kaveh: Everyday he tells you that he won’t overwork himself, he will take breaks today. He doesn’t, no matter how determined he is he will not take a break until you make him. On days when he’s stuck in his head you have to visit him while he’s at work or at home so he can come back down to earth here and there.

Tighnari: He will complain anyone who will listen about how he hates going into Sumeru city for one thing or another. However he will be giddy when he goes onto Sumeru City to visit you. While he doesn’t like the city, it isn’t so bad when you’re with him.

Fontaine

Lyney: He claims to love all the ways you touch him. However he does have a favorite, he loves when you scratch and massage his back. When you work through his back with your skilled hands he is a happy groaning mess. After a massage he will be like a napping pile of jello. Cuddles with a now loose muscled Lyney are so heart warming.

Neuvillette: He hates the taste of coffee, that’s a plain fact. However, he can’t help but enjoy the taste of coffee if it’s from your lips. The quick good morning kiss you give him as you sip on your coffee makes his head dizzy instead of disgusted like he normally is at the taste of coffee.

Wriothesley: He claims he doesn’t mind you going out alone or without him. Truthfully you are never actually without his surveillance. He has a tracker on your phone and he sends one of his coworkers to make sure you are always safe.

[greengoblinswifey]

Can I get a Bestfriend JJ smut?? You spend the day hanging out and surfing maybe?? And then later that night you’re smoking together and then at some point JJ convinces reader to ride him 🤭

pairing— bsf!jj maybank x pogue!reader

warnings— best friends to lovers, smoking, praise kink, ass slapping, unprotected sex, creampie.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

The day had been perfect, a stretch of sunlit hours spent surfing with JJ. He was your best friend, but the two of you shared a closeness the other Pogues never stopped teasing about. “When are you gonna stop pretending?” John B had once asked JJ, to which he’d only grinned and said, “She’s my best friend, man. That’s all.” But there’d been a glint in his eye that you’d chalked up to his usual mischievousness.

Now, back at your house after an afternoon of surf-offs and playful banter, the easy rhythm of the day continued. You’d both showered off the saltwater, and JJ had pulled out a blunt he’d rolled earlier, offering it with a sly smile. “C’mon, you trust me, don’t you?”

You rarely smoked, but JJ had a way of convincing you to do things you wouldn’t usually. Sitting cross-legged on your bed while he lounged in the chair, you passed the blunt back and forth, the warmth of the room amplified by the slow haze settling over you.

“You’re pretty when you’re relaxed,” he said casually, leaning back and letting the smoke curl around him. “I can’t believe I got you to smoke with me.”

You rolled your eyes, giggling. “It’s not that shocking.”

“Oh, it is,” he teased, his blue eyes glinting as he sat up a little. “C’mere, sweetheart. Sit on my lap.”

“What? No way,” you said, suddenly shy.

“Why not? You’re my best friend. I don’t bite,” he said, grinning. The nickname rolled off his tongue easily, like it always did, and after a moment of hesitation, you stood up and let him guide you into his lap.

His hands rested lightly on your waist, his touch warm even through your clothes. He passed the blunt to you again, his eyes never leaving yours. “Blow the smoke into my mouth,” he said, his voice low and husky.

You hesitated, the request catching you off guard. But there was something about the way he looked at you, something unspoken and lowkey hot. You obeyed, leaning forward and exhaling softly.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

You laughed nervously, high and a little unsteady, but the moment felt charged. He shifted beneath you, and the movement made you hyperaware of how close you were. His hand reached up to tuck one of your braids behind your ear, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“You know,” he started, his voice dropping even lower, “you’re fucking dangerous.”

“Me? Dangerous?” you asked, your voice light and teasing.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You froze for a moment, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. But then he shifted again, and you felt something unmistakable—the unmistakable feeling of his hard cock pressing against you. Your cheeks flushed, and you pulled back slightly to look at him.

“JJ.”

“You feel my dick hard?” he said, his lips curling into a slow smirk. “That’s what you do to me.”

You tried to form a response, but the words caught in your throat. He tilted his head, studying your expression before his hand moved to your chin, tilting your face back toward his.

“Don’t overthink it,” he murmured. “It’s just us, like always. Let me take care of you.”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at JJ. “What do you mean by that?”

His smirk deepened, his voice a soft drawl. “I want you to ride me, baby.”

Your breath hitched, the words settling in the space between you like a spark. “J, I—”

“C’mon,” he coaxed, his tone playful but edged with something deeper. “It’ll be fun, I promise. I need you, sweetheart. You wanna feel good, don’t you?” He leaned in closer, his blue eyes locked on yours. “And you want your best friend to feel good too, right?”

You hesitated, dazed and unsure, but the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world was impossible to ignore.

His hands slid to your waist, steadying you. “Trust me baby,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Slowly, you nodded, letting him guide you. His smirk turned softer, more reassuring as he helped you out of your shorts and panties. He reached between your bodies, gathering your wetness and rubbing your clit, his touch lingering just enough to send shivers down your spine.

JJ leaned back, pulling his pants down just enough to pull his hard cock out, his breath hitching as he looked at you. “You’re so perfect,” he muttered, his voice rough. “C’mere.”

Your breathing quickened as you let him guide you, his hands firm on your hips. He leaned back slightly, blue eyes taking you in, murmuring, “That’s it, baby. Take your time.”

As you sank onto his dick, a shudder rippled through both of you, his grip tightening. JJ’s head tipped back, a soft moan escaping his lips. “You feel so good,” he said, his voice rough. “Perfect, like I knew you would be.”

You moved slowly at first, testing the rhythm, but his hands urged you faster, guiding your hips. “C’mon, ride me just like that baby,” he whispered, his tone laced with praise.

When he pulled your top down, his lips found your skin, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on your boobs. His teeth grazed your brown nipples gently, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. His hand came down sharply on your ass, a playful smack that made you gasp. “Yeah, grind on me, just like that. You’re so fucking good at this.”

Your grinding and bouncing grew desperate as heat built between you, the feeling of him so deep inside you one that made your head spin. His praises came in a steady stream, his voice low and husky. “You’re gonna make me fucking cum baby but cum for me first, show me how good it feels.”

Your senses were heightened, every feeling of his cock moving inside you amplified by the hazy warmth coursing through your veins. As you moved against him, it felt electric, each shift of your hips sent sparks of pleasure through your body. The friction was intoxicating, your body more sensitive than ever, and every brush of his rings on your skin made you shiver.

The hazy, relaxed state only made the rhythm more fluid, your movements unrestrained and natural. You were acutely aware of how deeply you could feel him inside you, the connection heightened. His murmured praises felt like music, grounding you while your body floated on cloud nine. Time seemed to slow, every feeling of pleasure as he reached between your bodies to rub your clit lingering longer than usual, as if your mind was savoring each second.

The combination of euphoria and closeness created a feeling that was fucking electric, pleasure and intimacy meshed into one, making every motion, every touch, feel otherworldly. If this was what Heaven felt like you wanted to die already so you could get there and ride his cock while high for the rest of eternity.

Finally, your body trembled, and you buried your face in his neck as waves of pleasure overtook you. JJ moaned your name, his own release following soon after, his grip on you unrelenting as he held you close, his cum deep inside your pussy.

Afterward, he kissed you softly, his hands brushing over your back. “You’re such a good girl,” he murmured against your lips. “Took me so well, like you were made for me.”

You smiled against his mouth, still catching your breath, the warmth of his words lingering as he pulled you closer.

You could feel his dick slightly twitch inside you as you giggled softly, the warmth of the moment clouding your thoughts.

“Can we do that again?” you asked, biting your lip as your cheeks warmed.

JJ leaned back with that signature smirk, his voice low and teasing. “Of course, sweetheart. That wet little pussy? It's mine now.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and he gently tilted your chin to meet his gaze. “Every time we hang out, you’re riding me, got it? I’m not letting you stop now.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, so much for being ‘best friends’.

[emmyrosee]

don’t… don’t read this LMAOOO-

——-

“Ugh, you’re such a man.”

Immediately, you use your sock-covered toe to gently kick Eren’s foot over slightly, encouraging him to close his legs from their plant in a “man-spread.”

Your boyfriend, with an offended look and mouth agape, watches as you take your position on his now closed lap, legs draped over the side and your arm wrapping around his neck. You set the bowl of snacks on your lap and bring one of the salty crackers to his open mouth, not even acknowledging his incredulous expression. You gently coax the cracker into his mouth, but he doesn’t bite it quite yet.

“Excuse me?” He manages, mouth warbled around the cracker. His tongue prods the cracker in, and he chews it anggreddibely

You shrug, “yeah, like, you man-spread, you’ve got a man bun, you man-splain-“

“When have I ever man-splained something to you?” He grumbles, clearly still not taking your words well. You giggle. He softens just slightly. Your laugh always has had that effect on him.

“Baby,” you croon, leaning in to kiss his pout; once, twice, and on the third peck, he kisses back, and your heart rate spikes in excitement. “It’s not a bad thing. You are a man, it’s okay.”

“Yeah but don’t say it like that,” he whines. “Makes it sound like a bad thing. Like I want to be a menace.”

“You wake up and consciously make that decision everyday, it has nothing to do with you happening to be a man,” you snort. He takes the bowl from your lap and puts it to the side, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you closer. You smell the cheap body wash clinging to his skin, mingling with the expensive cologne he uses in his collar. His pout is etched into his face while he nuzzles into your neck, and his breath causes goosebumps to raise on your skin. You mewl and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his face comfortably burrow in the curve of your own. “But you’re my menace, I love you for that.”

You feel him smirk against your skin, and you shiver at the hot breath splaying over your neck.

“I’m your man.”

“Cheesy.”

[witchywithwhiskey]

only man allowed

pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader

summary: you're feeling particularly needy one night, but when you text your situationship to come over, he reminds you that he won't wear a condom, which is a problem since it's a risky time of the month for you. but you tell him to come over anyway.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), consensual non-consent and consensual sexual coercion, sexual roleplay, 'just the tip' trope, breeding kink, bdsm elements, some biting and marking, some dacryphilia, some pain play, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, multiple orgasms, aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior

word count: 8.5k

a/n: listen, i definitely wrote this at a certain time of the month and i'm not going to apologize for it!!! what i will apologize for is the fact that this ended up being way longer than i expected!! i wanted these to be short little fics, but apparently toxic bucky won't let me keep things short 🤭 anyway, this was fun to write and i hope y'all enjoy it!! ♡

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

You missing me, baby?

You could perfectly imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ stupidly handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye as he asked you that question in response to the picture you’d sent. It was a hastily taken photo of your body clad only in one of Bucky’s t-shirts, your fingers pulling up the hem to show a pair of panties—the ones that had made him groan like he was being tortured when he’d first seen them. 

The truth was, you were missing him. You were horny as fuck and you didn’t care if he knew it—which, you were certain he did, because you only ever sent him lewd photos of yourself when you wanted him—but would it kill Bucky to show a little bit of reciprocity, instead of sending you that teasing response?

It didn’t matter that his playfully cocky words only drove your need higher, your body warming as heat flooded between your thighs. You were missing Bucky’s brand of arrogance, and it was all you could think about, the deep rasp of his voice in your ear while he pounded into you, the dirty and depraved things he’d say as his cock slid into your pussy, stretching you out just the way you needed.

You knew, without even touching yourself, that neither your fingers nor your toys would be enough for you that evening. You needed Bucky. Not John Walker, not any of the other guys on your roster—only Bucky Barnes could satisfy the need burning through your body.

So you rolled onto your knees and lowered your upper body to your bed, arching your ass high in the air. You positioned your phone and took a photo of your curved ass, barely clad in your panties, with the TV on your dresser also in frame. You took photos until you got one that you liked well enough and sent it to Bucky.

I’m bored, come chill.

Your text deliberately didn’t acknowledge Bucky’s question—and you weren’t asking him to come over, you were demanding it. You refused to beg a guy like Bucky Barnes, who refused to be exclusive with you, to come over and fuck you. 

But you knew the simple request would drag him away from whatever he was doing on that Saturday evening and get him to your apartment.

So you were surprised when he texted back and didn’t immediately say he was on his way.

You sure? If we end up fucking, I’m not wearing a condom.

The second you finished reading Bucky’s text, you shoved your face into one of your pillows and let out a frustrated groan. Of course Bucky hadn’t forgotten you were in the process of switching to a new birth control and you’d told him that if he was going to fuck you, he’d have to wear a condom.

He’d taken it better than you expected—especially for a guy who claimed sex with you “didn’t feel as good” when he wore a condom. He hadn’t thrown a tantrum or tried to talk you into fucking bare while it was unsafe. He’d seemed happy enough with handjobs and blowjobs, and had always reciprocated by getting you off with his fingers or mouth.

But you could tell from his text that he was reaching his limit and, truthfully, so were you. 

You missed the feeling of Bucky’s bare cock sliding into you, the heat of his stiff length and the drag of his veins against your sensitive inner walls. You were desperate to feel his cum flooding your cunt, filling you up with his seed while his balls twitched against your ass or clit, and he groaned low and deep in your ear. 

Bucky was the only man on your roster allowed to fuck you bare, and it was entirely contingent on him swearing on his mother’s grave that you were the only girl he fucked without a condom. As far as you knew, Bucky had kept his promise—which you knew because you made him get tested at the local clinic at least once a month. 

Still, you were only four weeks in to the 4-6 week period where your doctor had told you to use secondary methods of birth control while you were switching prescriptions. And you were so horny that you were probably ovulating—but you wanted Bucky so bad you could barely think. 

In fact, the thought of letting Bucky cum inside you when it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and was extra not safe because you were switching your birth control, turned you on so much, your whole body shivered with need. Something about the idea, how risky it was, how it might mean Bucky would knock you up, was too good to be ignored. 

You were so horny, you were seconds away from shoving a pillow between your thighs simply so you’d have something to hump against. That probably should’ve been a sign that you weren’t thinking clearly, but instead, it had you making up your mind.

You decided having Bucky over—having him fuck you raw—was worth the risk. In a brief moment of clarity, you reasoned with yourself that there was always the morning after pill. That was good enough for you.

So you texted him back.

I’m sure.

Bucky showed up to your apartment so soon after you texted him that you were sure that he either broke a number of traffic laws driving over from wherever he’d been, or he’d already been on his way. You loved both ideas, and didn’t want him to give you another reason, so you opted not to ask.

But for how fast he’d gotten to your place, he seemed content to take his time getting to the main event. When you opened the door, you’d been expecting (or, rather, hoping) he’d pounce on you. Instead, he pulled you into his arms and gave you a brief, chaste kiss, asking how your week was and how you’d been since he last saw you.

Then, as you entertained his desire for small talk, Bucky made himself comfortable, stretching out on your bed after kicking off his shoes and beckoning you to curl up with him. You did so, a little warily, and even put on a show you’d seen a million times since you figured Bucky would distract you from it soon enough. 

But he didn’t. 

You lasted all of five minutes before you were lifting your head from Bucky’s chest to look at him, surprised to find the guy you’d texted to come over and fuck you was seemingly engrossed in your show. You whined his name in a pitiful voice, “Bucky.” 

The arrogant smirk you’d pictured when he’d texted you earlier spread across his face and he squeezed you tighter in his hard, muscled arms. 

“Shhh, baby, watch your show,” he rumbled, rolling you onto your back so he was curled around your side, throwing a leg over yours and burying his scruffy face in your neck. “I’m just here to chill, right?” There was a teasing note in his voice that had you huffing out a frustrated sound.

“Bucky…” you grumbled, even as you shifted your head on your pillows to give him easier access to your neck. He rewarded you by kissing your soft skin, sending a tendril of heat curling down your spine and settling heavily between your thighs. “You know this isn’t what I meant when I told you to come over.” 

Bucky lifted himself up onto his forearm, hovering above you so he could stare down into your eyes. His arrogant smirk had slipped off his face, leaving a serious expression as he took in the pinched, frustrated look on yours. He seemed to come to some kind of decision as he stared at you.

“It’s not a safe time for you, right, baby?” he asked, each word said slowly, intentionally, another meaning laced within. “You don’t want me to tell you that I’m horny as fuck and the only thing I want is to bury my bare cock in you and cum in your unprotected pussy—you don’t want me to try to talk you into it, to coerce you, right, baby?”

At his filthy words, your heart thundered in your chest and your pulse thrummed between your thighs, and for a brief, blistering moment, you considered throwing a whole entire hissy fit because that’s not what you wanted. You wanted the opposite of what Bucky was saying—and then the deeper meaning in his words hit you. 

Bucky wasn’t really asking if you wanted him to be nice and respectful of the boundaries you’d set, even though you’d already essentially given him permission to ignore them. He was asking if you wanted to play along with the idea that you were reluctant to let him fuck you without a condom while you were at risk of getting knocked up.

“That’s not what you want, is it, baby?” Bucky rumbled, his gaze holding yours as he nodded his head slowly, the gesture so at odds with his words, it could only mean he was asking you the opposite of what he said.

You’d been eager for Bucky to fuck you—you were so horny, it was the only thing you could think about—but the opportunity of playing this game with him was too enticing to pass up. Pretending to be reluctant, pretending to slowly give in to Bucky’s whims when it was what you both really wanted, would only make the sex that much hotter. 

An excited smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you saw Bucky’s gaze drop to your lips, his own face flickering with elation as he took in your reaction. You waited until his eyes returned to yours before you answered him.

“Noooo, that’s definitely not what I want, daddy,” you whimpered huskily, the barest hint of sarcasm in your tone as you struggled to stop from smirking. Your head was nodding just as Bucky’s had, and he was the first to break, an eager grin spreading across his face. 

He ducked down and brushed another frustratingly brief kiss to your lips. “You got it, baby, no fucking tonight—just chilling,” he murmured, a teasing tone in his voice that had your body tingling with anticipation.

You were less surprised that time when Bucky snuggled back down on top of you, his mouth going back to your neck where he was working on sucking a hickey into the side of your throat.

Since you knew the game you were playing, it was a little easier to settle in and watch your show, all the while trying to forget the way your pussy was pulsing with need. Still, you wouldn’t have said it was easy to ignore the steady twitching of Bucky’s cock against your thigh as he hardened in his sweatpants.

It only got more difficult to keep your attention on your show when Bucky’s hand slid under your shirt, his fingers trailing idly over your stomach until he eventually reached your tits. He began kneading your soft flesh lazily, his fingers plucking teasingly at your nipples, while his mouth sucked on your neck. 

Despite how obvious it was that Bucky was taking his time, it wasn’t long before you were a wet, whimpering mess beneath him.

“Bucky, w-we shouldn’t fool around,” you murmured breathily, mouth tripping over the words as you voiced the exact opposite of what you wanted. It was like your lips didn’t want to play the game you’d started, but you were rewarded for their effort by his frustrated growl, which had you throbbing between your thighs.

“It’s fine, baby, we’re not doing anything we shouldn’t…” he rumbled against your neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 

The word “yet” hung unspoken in what little space there was between your bodies, and the promise of it had you warming even more, pressing your thighs together against the ache pulsing in your core. “Bucky,” you whimpered his name, your hips twisting toward him like they had a mind of their own.

“Are ya getting wet, baby?” he asked teasingly in your ear, his fingers tripping down your body until they skimmed along the hem of your panties. All you could do was whine in response and Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, I bet you’re dripping for me.”

Your chest was already heaving with heavier breaths just from the way Bucky was teasing his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, taking his sweet time going any lower to where you really needed him. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, and your intention had been to shove his hand deeper into your panties so he’d finally touch your pussy, but instead he stopped.

“Don’t worry, baby, ‘m not gonna fuck you, no matter how wet your pretty little pussy is,” Bucky murmured in your ear, brushing a kiss to your cheek. 

Though his words might’ve sounded reassuring, his tone was a deliciously teasing rumble and you could feel his smirk against your cheek. Your body trembled, your thighs parting for Bucky of their own accord, which had him humming a pleased sound. 

“Good girl, just let me feel you.”

Bucky’s fingers finally dipped into your panties and slid down to your pussy, a breathy little moan bursting from your lips. The feel of his warm, skilled fingers slipping through your soaking wet folds, bumping against your clit before swirling around your aching, clenching hole, was almost too much. 

You had to bite your lip against the urge to beg Bucky to fuck you already, not wanting to ruin the game that was making everything hotter. But he seemed to lose himself for a moment, burying his face in your neck and groaning while his fingers slipped between your swollen and soppy lower lips.

“Fucking hell, baby, you’re drenched for me,” Bucky growled, his voice low and no longer teasing. His fingers were dipping shallowly into your hole and spreading your wetness around, making a mess of your pussy. “You feel so fucking ripe, I gotta feel it—gotta feel you against my cock.”

Bucky was already pushing your panties down your thighs, rising above you and tearing his shirt off over his head before tugging your own shirt from your body. 

At the same time, you were kicking your panties from around your ankles and spreading your legs, sitting up shove at the waistband of Bucky’s sweatpants. When his cock bounced free, you reached for his perfect length, saliva already pooling in your mouth as you gave his girth a reverent stroke.

But then Bucky was urging you back down, guiding your shoulders to the bed and covering your body with his own. You arched up into his warmth while he settled between your thighs, your fingers clinging to his sides.

His darkened eyes were fixed on the juncture of your legs, his fingers going back to playing through your wetness and spreading it around to make a mess of your pussy. Occasionally, he’d bump against your clit, which made your body jolt every time he brushed the needy bundle of nerves. 

Bucky felt so good, and you were so close to getting what you really wanted—his cock inside you—but you forced yourself to remember the game you were playing.

You grabbed Bucky’s face in both hands, tipping it up so you could catch his eye. There was an almost dazed look on his face, but he blinked and focused back on you.

“It isn’t a safe time of the month,” you said, as sternly as you could manage. But your breaths were coming too quickly for there to be much steel in your voice. Bucky’s thumb brushed over your clit purposefully and your hips bore down on his hand, your body begging for more as you whined, “You can’t fuck me bare, Bucky.” 

“I won’t, baby,” Bucky purred, wrapping the fingers that were sticky with your desire around the hard length of his cock. He chuckled when you whimpered at the loss of his touch, leaning down over you and brushing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Just let me rub against you—you’re so wet, it’ll feel so good. I won’t push inside your drippy little pussy, baby, I promise.”

You knew he was lying, and you knew Bucky knew you knew he was lying. For some reason, that made everything so much hotter. So did playing the reluctant participant, which was why you bit your lip with fake nervousness as you stared up at Bucky, your panting breaths adding even more uncertainty to your voice when you spoke.

“Oh-okay, daddy, you can rub against me—but no more.” 

The words were barely out of your mouth before Bucky was sliding his thick, hard cock between your pussy lips, making you moan and spread your legs wider, raising your knees toward your chest to give him all the access he needed. 

Bucky let out a groan and dropped down to cover you with his body, his arms digging beneath your back to hold you pinned tightly against his chest. Your sensitive nipples rubbed against him, teasing you relentlessly.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Bucky rumbled, rocking his hips so his cock dragged between your swollen, dripping folds, rubbing against your clit and sending sparks of pleasure swirling through your body. “So wet… You’re making a fucking mess on my cock, baby.”

“Oh god,” you whimpered in Bucky’s ear, your body shuddering under the onslaught of blistering pleasure and aching emptiness in your core. 

You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s shoulders, hands digging into his soft brown hair and holding onto him while his hips kept rocking into the cradle of your body, his cock grinding against your clit until you were gushing with wetness all over his stiff length.

“Doesn’t it feel good, baby?” Bucky murmured in your ear, his voice sweetly entreating, like he was trying to convince you of something, though you were already very well aware that his hard shaft grinding into your dripping wet pussy felt better than it had any right. “You’re creaming all over daddy’s cock, baby—tell me how good it feels.”

“Nngh, so goooood,” you keened, hooking your ankles around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to get better leverage to grind against his hard length. You were caught between wanting more and wanting to keep grinding against him. “Your cock feels sooo good, daddy, so big and hard against my drippy pussy.”

“Fuck, ‘m so hard for you,” Bucky groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he rutted into your soft, drenched folds with rough, punishing thrusts. “My dick’s throbbing for your cunt, baby, can you feel it?”

He pressed his shaft deep into your slit, the flared head of his cock bullying your clit, and you could feel it. You could feel the pulse in his hard length, joining the rhythm in your center. 

Your body reacted on instinct, your inner walls clenching hard around nothing while you whined his name, “Buckyyy.”

“I can feel you, baby,” Bucky rumbled, the teasing tone back in his voice. “I can feel your cunt mouthing at my cock.” 

Bucky’s words sounded so deliciously depraved that you wanted to turn your head and kiss him, to taste his debauchery straight from his tongue. You knew he had a filthy mouth, but his dirty talk was even hotter because of the game you were playing—and he just kept talking. 

“Feels like ya want me to fuck you, baby,” he cooed, lifting his head to speak directly in your ear. “Does your pretty little cunt wanna get fucked?”

It was on the tip of your tongue to scream, ‘Yes!’ You wanted to get fucked so bad. You practically desperate for Bucky to push inside you and impale you on his cock, to pump into your pussy bare and cum inside you. You managed to bite it back at the last second for the sake of the role you were playing, but you couldn’t get any other words out.

When you were quiet, save for your panting breaths while Bucky’s hips kept up their torturous rocking, he lifted himself, bracing on his forearms so he could hover above you and see your face. He raised an eyebrow in question, his body slowing its movement as his gaze raked over your face, uncertainty flickering in the depths of his blue eyes.

It was clear he was questioning whether you still wanted to play the game you’d both started, and the fact that he was taking the time to check in with you had your heart squeezing uncomfortably in your chest. 

It was an annoying reminder that Bucky wasn’t the kind of man to be selfish and self-absorbed in bed. Even if he was only your situationship, he made sure you were enjoying everything he was doing. 

And you wanted him to know you were enjoying yourself very much—and that you still wanted to play the role you’d been given.

“I want you so bad, Bucky.” The words tumbled from your lips as you gave in to the urge to assuage Bucky’s concern. “I want you so bad, but we shouldn’t,” you whined, pouting up at him as you slipped back into the game. 

The furrow of concern smoothed itself from Bucky’s brow and he smirked before ducking down to capture your lips in a quick kiss. 

His hips began rocking into you again, and he swallowed your responding moan greedily. He groaned himself when you used your ankles hooked around his thighs to grind back against him, your soft, wet pussy sliding against the rough ridge of his cock and making a mess of both of you.

“What if I…what if I just push the tip in?” Bucky rasped, pulling away and catching your eye, a smirk fluttered at the edges of his mouth, like he was trying to hold it back but was failing. “Just the tip—just let me feel you. Please, baby, I wanna feel you so fucking bad.” 

Bucky bowed his head, pressing sweet kisses to your collarbones, a barely restrained chuckle rumbling his chest. It seemed he’d lost the battle with being able to keep a straight face and you couldn’t blame him, your mouth was spread in a mischievous grin while your nails raked through his short brown hair.

“It’s not safe,” you reminded him, but there was an edge of glee in your tone. 

You couldn’t hide the fact that you were having fun with Bucky, playing out the little game he’d started. You were so close to getting what you wanted, that it only made it more difficult to pretend you didn’t want it. 

So when you murmured, “If you cum inside me, Bucky…” your voice was breathless with desire, and you had to cut yourself off to bite back the moan that wanted to be set free. 

Bucky smirked against your neck, his teeth nipping playfully at the mark he’d left on your throat before he responded. “It’s just the tip, baby, promise—I won’t cum inside you.”

Had it always been so easy for you to hear when Bucky was lying, or had he given up on the pretense of the game so much that it was even more obvious? 

The question flitted across your mind but didn’t stay long. You were too busy gasping a quick, “Ok,” your hips tilting, trying to catch the tip of Bucky’s cock in your hole on one of his grinding thrusts. However, it wasn’t until he pulled his hips back that the head of his hard length notched at your tight, clenching pussy.

Both of you held your breath when Bucky pushed inside. He stopped when just the tip was nestled inside the entrance of your warm, wet cunt. 

“Fuuuck,” Bucky groaned, pressing his face into the side of your neck, his hot breath fanning over the hollow of your throat and his scruff rasping against your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking warm, baby,” he rumbled into your neck, the sensation of his mouth against your throat making you shiver all over. “Gotta do it again.”

His muttered words were your only warning before his hips reared back, the broad tip of his cock pulling free from your grasping hole. A tortured whimper slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, and Bucky chuckled as he slid back inside you, your pitiful sound dissolving into a moan when the head of his cock popped into your cunt.

“Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it?” Bucky crooned in your ear, doing it again, slower that time, making you feel every tiny bit of his tip pushing into your weeping hole. “My cock sliding into your drippy little cunt—you’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Bucky, so wet for you,” you echoed, unable to do more when all your focus was on not impaling yourself on Bucky’s cock. Your body squirmed beneath his larger form, one of Bucky’s big hands pressing down on your hip like he knew you were barely holding back from pushing yourself down on his cock.

“It would be so easy for me to slide all the way inside, don’t ya think, baby?” Bucky purred in a teasing tone, his hips rocking forward until he’d pushed another inch deeper before pulling back so only the tip was inside you again.

Just that little tease had you moaning mindlessly beneath Bucky, tears of desire and frustration springing to your eyes. 

Your arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s shoulders and your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs, trying to pull him in deeper. You needed more, to hell with the game you’d been playing. You needed him inside you already. 

“Bucky, please,” you begged on a sob, pressing your face into his cheek.

“I can feel your cunt gripping me, baby, sucking on me—she wants me to push deeper,” Bucky rumbled in your ear, a gruffness to his voice that told you he was reaching the limit of his patience with the game as well. 

In that moment, you’d have done anything to get Bucky to fuck you properly, but before you could speak, he went on. 

“Do you want it, baby?” he asked, his voice rough as crushed rock, his own breaths hot and heavy against your skin. “Want my cock buried deep inside you, filling you up and fucking you hard?”

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you gasped, your hands diving into his hair and pulling his head up so you could look him in the eye. You had to blink the tears from your eyes to do it, but you didn’t want there to be any confusion about what you wanted. “Fuck me, daddy, please!”

A slow, depraved grin spread across Bucky’s face as his eyes roved over your tear-stained cheeks. You felt the tip of his cock twitch inside you, and your body gave an answering clench, like it was begging him to slide inside. But Bucky seemed happy to let his eyes wander over your face, relishing the sight of you crying and begging him to fuck you. 

It felt like a small eternity before his gaze met yours again and he seemed ready to give you what you wanted. 

“But don’t cum inside you, right, baby?” Bucky asked, a devious tone in his voice. His hips pulled back and thrust forward slowly, pushing his big cock inside you at a torturous pace. Bucky’s grin was teasing as he went on, murmuring, “Wouldn’t want daddy knocking you up, right, baby?” 

At Bucky’s words, something inside you snapped. Your mind went blank and your body moved on its own, your legs hiking up Bucky’s sides to wrap tightly around his lower back. Your heels dug into his firm ass and you whined loudly until he let you pull him deeper inside you.

Bucky’s cock impaled you with one thrust, a pleasured grunt slipping from his mouth, half-muffled against your neck. He filled you up all the way to the root of his thick cock and you moaned, long and loud in his ear. 

You finally got what you wanted. Finally, you were full of his cock.

Bucky was buried so deep inside you that you could feel his balls pressed against your ass—his big, heavy balls, full of the seed you desperately wanted him to pump inside you. The desire left you dizzy and dazed, your body thrumming with a need to be filled, to be knocked up, to be bred by your situationship.

“Breed me, Bucky,” you whispered breathlessly in his ear. 

He stilled for a very brief second, but then he was groaning obscenely, sucking hard on the hickey he’d already left. Whether it was a reward or a punishment, you didn’t know—nor did you care.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky grunted, his legs shifting on your bed and repositioning himself to fight against the stranglehold you had on his body. 

He pushed up onto his forearms so he could hover above you, his eyes raking over your face as he rolled his hips to fuck you in hard, shallow thrusts that had your lips parting, punched-out whines slipping from your mouth. 

You were so consumed in basking in your pleasure that it took you a moment to realize Bucky had gone quiet—quieter than he normally was when he was fucking you. It took another moment for you to blink your vision back into focus and when you did, you sucked in a sharp breath at the look of pure, depraved desire on Bucky’s face. 

“Do you have something you want to tell me, baby?” he asked dryly, lifting an eyebrow in question. Before you could answer, he ducked down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, the heat of his tongue flicking into your mouth making you moan. “Does my girl have a breeding kink she failed to tell me about?” he asked in a teasing tone, plunging his cock deep into your pussy and grinding hard against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Not your girl,” you managed to gasp, even through the pleasure. 

A low growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, but it cut off abruptly. It seemed your situationship didn’t like being reminded that he wasn’t the only one who fucked you. Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, biting it a little harshly, making your pussy clench around his cock as you whined through the brief sting.  

“Does John fucking Walker know about your breeding kink?” Bucky seethed, his voice suddenly furious. His anger was reflected in the way he picked up the pace of his hips, fucking you in rough, hard thrusts that had you crying out and clinging to his shoulders, your nails sinking deep into his golden skin. “Do you let John fucking Walker fuck you raw—fucking tell me, baby.”

“No,” you cried, tears of pleasure slipping from your eyes and trailing down your temples into your hair. Bucky’s lips found the salty tears and he kissed them from your skin, making your heart and pussy clench simultaneously. “You’re the only one allowed to fuck me bare, Bucky, you know that.” 

“That’s fucking right,” he growled, punctuating each of his words with brutal thrusts. “I’m the only man who fucks this pussy raw,” he went on in a gruff, furious voice, raising up onto his arms so he could look you in the eye. “I’m the only man who cums inside this cunt, who fills you up until you’re leaking my seed all down your pretty thighs—I’m the only man who breeds you, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes—yes, Bucky, only you,” you cried, squirming beneath him, using your ankles hooked around his thighs to meet Bucky’s thrusts. It didn’t even occur to you to fight him on his possessive questions—he was right. He was the only one allowed to do all those things. “Only you, only you—please, I need you to breed me Bucky!”

You were getting close, but before you could tumble over the edge of your release, Bucky sat up, breaking the hold of your arms as he pushed up onto his knees. You let out a frustrated wail, but stopped short at the expression on Bucky’s face.

The look in his eye was wild, nearly feral. His hands were rough and possessive when he grabbed your plush thighs, pushing them up toward your chest until you were folded in half. His cock was still inside you, but not nearly as deep as you wanted it in the position Bucky was in. 

Your hips squirmed, a whine working its way up your throat before spilling free.

Bucky leaned back down on top of you, pinning your legs to your chest and your body to the bed as his cock slid deeper until you were so full of him, you swore you could feel him in womb—even though you knew that was impossible. 

He stayed like that, buried inside you, his cock stretching out your tight cunt while he rocked his hips, grinding deeper into you. All the while, he stared at you, his gaze glittering with the wildness that spoke of a deep-rooted possessiveness, but when he spoke, his voice was deceptively sweet.

“You want daddy to breed you, baby?” Bucky cooed in your ear, his mouth pressing wet, messy kisses to your cheek and jaw. “You knew it wasn’t a safe time of the month, and you let me fuck you raw anyway—such a silly little cumslut pretending you didn’t want it, but you do, right, baby?”

All you could manage was a punched-out, “Uh huh,” Bucky’s heavy weight pressing the air from your lungs while he crushed you to the bed. He shifted a little, so you could breathe, but it didn’t seem to matter that you’d responded, because he went on as if he hadn’t even heard you.

“You wanna feel my fat cock bruising your cervix, baby?” he huffed, pausing only to nip at the lobe of your ear with his teeth, making you clench hard around his cock. His next words came out on a filthy groan, pouring into your ear and settling deep in your mind. “Ya want me to flood your fertile little cunt with my seed and breed you—is that it?” 

You were half feral yourself with desire, with your need to cum—with your need to feel him cum inside you—and you weren’t sure if Bucky was checking in with you, or if he was getting off on teasing you, but you rushed to answer, telling him the truth.

“God, Bucky, yes—please,” you whined, your fingers digging into his soft hair and towing his head until your mouth found his, kissing him messily while he kept fucking you in hard, rough thrusts. “Fill me up with your cum, daddy, make me your pretty little cumdump, please, I want it—I need it!” you cried into Bucky’s mouth, your words half muffled because neither of you wanted to pull away. 

“Jesus fucking christ, baby,” Bucky grunted, his hot breath panting past your lips. You felt his mouth curve into a sly smirk. “First you don’t want me to fuck you because it isn’t safe,” he murmured in a teasing tone. “And now you want me to breed your little pussy full of cum—which is it, baby, d’you want me to pull out or cum inside your unprotected cunt?”

A mindless moan slipped from your lips at his filthy question, your mind going entirely blank for a split second. All you could do was feel—Bucky’s thick cock pounding into your pussy, the tip hitting a spot inside you that felt so good, you never wanted him to stop. It was too good, you didn’t want him to pull out, even if it would’ve been the smart decision.

“Breed me, daddy,” you begged in a throaty, desperate voice. “Breed me, cum inside me—please, please, please!”

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed, but he sounded pleased, too. “I’m so fucking close, baby, so close to draining my balls in your tight little cunt.” 

His body shifted and then he was pounding into you in a new, better angle, making you feel impossibly good as you careened toward the edge of your release. 

“Tell me, baby,” he rasped, his forehead pressed to yours. “Tell me you never let John fucking Walker cum inside you—tell me I’m the only man allowed to breed you.”

You whined, well aware you’d already told him—and he already knew he was the only one allowed to cum inside you. But it fed the possessiveness Bucky felt, and it felt good to give him that, so you did. 

“You’re the only one,” you promised in a thready voice, your pleasure dripping from every word. “The only man allowed to cum inside me—you’re the only man allowed to breed me, daddy!”

Bucky captured your mouth in a dominating kiss, his tongue plunging past your lips like he was desperate to fuck as many of your holes at the same time as possible. You moaned into his mouth, gripping his face and holding him close while you sucked on his tongue, your nails raking through the scruff on his jaw, both of you groaning at how good the other felt.

Finally, Bucky managed to wrench himself away from your clinging grip and his face hovered above yours, a devious smirk on his plump lips.

“Ya know I heard,” he started, his voice a little breathless and gruff, the deep sound of it singing through your body and making you shiver as your pussy pulsed around his thrusting cock. “If you cum at the same time as me, you’re more likely to get knocked up.” 

A violent shiver raced down your spine and your pussy clenched hard around Bucky’s cock. His words were going to be the end of you, you just knew it, but what a glorious end it would be.

Bucky grinned at your body’s reaction, looking far too pleased with himself, though you were too far gone in your pleasure to try to wipe that smirk off his face. Not that he gave you much opportunity, ducking down to murmur in your ear.

“Rub your clit, baby, I wanna feel you cumming on my cock while I’m knocking you up.”

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you whimpered pleasure spiraling through you at his words, but you did as he said. 

You slipped your hand between your bodies, finding your clit messy and sticky with your desire, your fingertips brushing the thick shaft of Bucky’s cock as he fucked you. Rubbing your clit in ruthless little circles, your body pulled tight.

“Bucky, I’m gonna cum—don’t stop!”

Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as the coiled tension in your body finally shattered, and you came with a strangled cry, pleasure consuming your mind and body. 

Your release washed over you in waves of bliss that were so intense, you could feel your arms and legs trembling, your cunt clenching hard around Bucky’s thick length that was still plunging deep into your grasping channel.

“That’s it, baby, cum on daddy’s cock,” Bucky rasped, brushing sloppy kisses to your face as he rutted into you, his thrusts turning wild and rough. “You feel so fucking good, baby, you’re doing so good for me, gonna make me a daddy for real, baby—Jesus fuck.” 

Bucky cut himself off on a groan, his hips pressing flush to the backs of your thighs, his cock impaled to the hilt in your still fluttering cunt. He came with a loud moan, his cock twitching inside you as he shot rope after rope of cum into your pussy. Your inner walls milked every last drop of seed from his balls while he painted the inside of you white.

When Bucky was finally spent, he collapsed on top of you, your bodies easing into a more comfortable position. He lay on top of you in the cradle of your thighs, his palms smoothing over your hips and sides while your fingers stroked idly through his soft hair. You made small sounds of contentment, and an answering, pleased rumble, sounded in his chest. 

Finally, just when it was beginning to get uncomfortable bearing so much of Bucky’s weight, he heaved himself up onto his knees and carefully slid his cock from your thoroughly used pussy. You watched him, his gaze focused on the slit between your thighs, and you saw the moment his blue eyes darkened when his cum started dripping out of you.

You reached between you thighs, which were splayed over his his spread knees, to clean up the cum before it made a mess of your bedsheets, but Bucky knocked your hand away. He fished through the mussed up bedding until he found his discarded sweatpants and pulled his phone from the pocket. 

Your body was limp with sated pleasure, and he’d taken enough post-sex photos of you, that you let Bucky arrange you how he wanted. You even held your legs open for him so he could position his phone above your pussy and take a couple close-up photos of his cum spilling out of your pussy. Then he pulled his phone back, so your whole body was in the shot.

“Say, ‘I’m gonna be a mommy,’ baby,” Bucky ordered, a lazy grin on his face.

Between your thighs, your pussy pulsed at the words, which sounded so innocent and so filthy at the same time. Heat filled your cheeks and you turned your head to the side, trying to bury your face in a pillow while you whined, “Bucky.” 

You knew it was silly to be shy about saying something so innocuous, especially after everything you and Bucky had just said and done, but the moment was over. You didn’t normally have such a breeding kink, but you’d been so horny and it had made you so hot to talk about getting bred while Bucky was inside you. 

However, it felt like a whole other thing to play into it when the heat of the moment had passed. It felt like the kind of thing boyfriends and girlfriends did, and you knew better than to tread into that territory. 

Still, your body warmed at the idea of looking into Bucky’s camera and saying those words…

“Baby,” Bucky crooned, leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “C’mon, I know you wanna,” he murmured in your ear, his mouth brushing butterfly kisses along your jaw. “You don’t have to be shy with me, baby, I know you’re a dirty little breeding slut desperate to be daddy’s good little cumdump.”

“Jesus Christ, Bucky,” you groaned, but you were smiling when you turned your head and met his mouth for a kiss. 

Bucky let you kiss him for a few moments before he pulled away and sat up, holding his camera in position while he raised his eyebrows at you in an expectant expression.

“I’m gonna be a mommy,” you mumbled, pouting up at the camera while Bucky snapped a few photos. It wasn’t long before you were smiling and preening for the camera, sticking your tits out and holding your legs even wider for Bucky.

“Good girl,” he murmured, catching your eye as he lowered his phone. He was giving you a pleased smirk, and you smiled up at him in return.

Bucky gently moved your legs from around his waist and flopped down on the bed beside you, swiping through the photos he’d taken of his cum leaking out of your pussy while you curled around his bicep. You had to admit, they looked hot—even the ones of you pouting and mumbling up at him.

Seeing yourself like that was turning you on and you were just about to shimmy down Bucky’s body and lick his cock clean until he was hard again when he spoke, derailing your dirty thoughts.

“I’ll pick up the morning after pill for you before I head home,” he rumbled absentmindedly, still focused more on his phone. You could see him favoriting some of the photos he’d taken and saving them to a separate folder. “And if you are knocked up, I’ll pay to have it taken care of—but don’t expect me to cuddle you and do boyfriend shit after.”

For a moment, you restrained the urge to smack Bucky in the face with a pillow. And then you thought, why not? You weren’t his girlfriend, you didn’t need to play nice. 

So you grabbed the pillow behind your head and brought it down right on Bucky’s face. He let out a satisfying, startled ‘oomph’ sound, and you chuckled as you rolled out of bed. 

“Gee, thanks,” you shot over your shoulder sarcastically as you padded toward the bathroom, intent on cleaning Bucky’s cum from between your thighs. 

But then you had an evil thought and a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. You wiped that look off your face, though, as you turned and leaned against your doorway, striking a casual pose.

“Maybe if I’m knocked up, I’ll just let John fuck me bare and tell him it’s his,” you said, giving a carefree little shrug while trying not to make it obvious how close you were watching Bucky.

You were delighted when his head snapped toward you, his gaze finally pulling away from his phone as his brows lowered into a glare. His soft mouth turned down at the corners, a furious frown darkening his face.

“D’you think John would offer to marry me?” you asked, ignoring Bucky’s reaction and tapping your chin with one finger like you were thinking. “He strikes me as the type of man who’d want to make an ‘honest woman’ out of me.” You couldn’t hold in your eye roll, even as you were trying to torture Bucky with the possibility of you marrying John fucking Walker.

In an instant, Bucky was up and off the bed, pinning you to the doorframe of your room with every inch of his big, strong body pressed against yours. You only had time to gasp while Bucky quickly gathered your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head. His hardening cock was trapped against your belly, the stickiness of both your releases rubbing into your skin.

“You’re not marrying John fucking Walker, baby,” Bucky growled while he loomed over you. He was so close, you had to tilt your head back to look up at him, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking. “And you’re certainly not raising my kid with Walker’s last name.” 

At that, you had to laugh. But when you saw how serious Bucky still looked, you realized he didn’t realize you were just trying to get a rise out of him. Something about the thought of you marrying John Walker had clearly made all rational thought completely abandon Bucky in that moment. 

Instead of thinking too hard about Bucky’s reaction, you explained yourself to him.

“Bucky, it was a joke,” you wheezed, giving him an incredulous look. “Of course I’m not gonna marry John.”

Bucky’s eyes flitted back and forth between yours, like he was checking to make sure you were being honest. He must’ve decided you were because he blew out a breath and closed his eyes, his forehead falling to yours. 

“Jesus, baby, you drive me fucking wild sometimes,” he rumbled, but there was humor in his tone, albeit reluctant.

A breathless laugh slipped from your lips and you leaned back against the doorframe, hiking your leg up around Bucky’s waist. He caught it in his free hand, the movement pressing his thickening cock between your thighs, making both of you groan.

“I think you should show me exactly how wild I make you,” you purred, rocking your hips against his stiff length, coating him in the mixture of your desire and his cum still leaking out of you. 

Bucky growled, his eyes flying open as he stared at you and worked his cock against your pussy. 

“Careful what you ask for, baby,” he rumbled, his tone a delicious taunt that had your toes curling against the floorboards and your hips tilting so you could rub your clit against his hard shaft. “Or you’re gonna get another load pumped into your tight, unprotected little cunt.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy,” you sassed, smirking up at Bucky and watching as his eyes darkened with desire.

In a flash, Bucky dropped your leg and let go of your wrists, spinning you around to face the doorframe and yanking your hips toward his lap with a rough, possessive grip on your body. Your upper body fell forward and your hands clung to the doorframe, nails digging into the wood when Bucky entered you in a swift, hard thrust.

Bucky fucked you in the doorway of your bedroom, making you promise yet again that you’d never let John Walker fuck you without a condom before emptying a second load inside you.

After, he followed you to the bathroom, hopping in the shower with you where he drained what little cum was left in his balls inside your pussy before helping you clean up—though you suspected he only offered to help so he could finger his cum deeper into your cunt under the pretense of cleaning you.

When you were both finally, finally sated, you collapsed into your bed together. Your mind was blissfully blank and your body deliciously sore as you cuddled together. Bucky dozed for a bit, his head on your chest while you carded your fingers through his hair and watched your show.

After a while, Bucky roused and got dressed, going out to get you the morning after pill from the nearest drug store, just like he’d said he would. 

He also brought you back your favorite sports drink and snacks, explaining in a gruff voice that he’d read the potential side effects of the pill on the box and wanted you to be prepared. You refused to feel any type of way about that.

Then Bucky kissed you and left to head home.

All things considered, it was a good thing your new birth control had taken effect, or the morning after pill had worked, and you didn’t get pregnant despite the evening you’d had with Bucky. It was a relief when you were able to tell him that your risky night hadn’t led to any of the consequences the both of you had willfully ignored.

When you texted him to tell him you’d gotten your period, he responded quickly, messaging twice in quick succession. The first text made you roll your eyes, because you thought that was all he’d have to say. 

Good.

But then you saw the second message, and you could imagine the arrogant smirk on Bucky Barnes’ ridiculously handsome face and the playful glint of mischief in his eye when he’d sent it.

It made you smile, and you had to bite your lip against a giggle, forcefully reminding yourself that he was just a situationship.

Let me know when you wanna play ‘just the tip’ to ‘breed me, daddy’ again, baby.

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

[peachtvs]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❛ WHERE WHEN NOW !? ❜ ft. vi

✰ sum. even when strategizing for battle, vi's hands always wander onto you. doesn't matter if you're in the middle of the conference room. ✰ warnings: switch leaning top!vi, fem!afab!reader, fucking in the conference room, oral (r!receiving and giving), fingering (r!receiving), pet names (princess, etc.), minor overstimulation (r!receiving) wc. 2.4k ✰ mlist.

vi is such a giver.

and she'll give it to you wherever she wants.

the two of you are in the middle of the meeting room over at the enforcers' main building, staying up late into the night figuring out the next plans for piltover's safety, for battle, for future weapons. it’s a tense conversation, the decisions you two make at this table dictate the future and safety of the city. you fiddle with your pen, resting your chin onto your palm as you squint down at the map, deciding where the new divisions of enforcers should be placed for watch when vi stands up to get a better view of the entire map.

vi is streetsmart, of course. shes been in fights time and time again since her early childhood. shes one to know when to lock in. and yet, the moment vi's stands up, instead of piltover her eyes wander to a different area, trailing to the cleavage peeking through your tank top. you're still talking too, but she's not processing any of it. the way your hair's all messy, how your hand comes up to brush strands behind your ear, how you exhale deeply like you're stressed out, and god, does she wanna relieve some of your tension.

it's not until you ask her a question and she doesn't answer do you realize how distracted shes been. you lift your chin to look up at her to see what could be distracting ber so much, and the moment you do vi's already pressing her lips against yours. your protests don’t even make it past your lips as her hand slides up from your shoulder, skimming tentatively to the side of your neck before she cups your jaw. you're barely even processing the kiss, let alone when her tongue slips between your lips—tasting every corner of your mouth and cutting off any train of thought you’ve ever had.

you close your eyes in response, kissing her back, and that only fuels the fire even more. she drags you up and out of your chair, falling onto it's side on the floor. it's not like either of you care though. not when vi's ice cold hands slip under your shirt, causing you to gasp softly with the tips of her fingers dipping into the bare skin of your waist—the little noise peeping out of you only having her laugh breathlessly in response.

"something wrong, princess?" she pulls away from you momentarily, and your entire face is flushed a burning red.

"you're insatiable, vi. we're in the middle of the conference room, what if someone comes in?" your worries only fall on deaf ears, the her hands now sliding to your lower back, making their way down to squeeze a handful of your ass.

"so what if they do? we're busy, babe. they'll know not to walk in when they hear you through the door." you're not even able to protest before vi leans into the side of your neck, her tongue swirling against your skin and sucking mark after mark as she trails down your body. she quickly grabs the bottom hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head like it's the most natural thing in the world to her. and to you, it really was. it's almost in her blood how smoothly she continues down to your collarbone, nipping the skin lightly with her teeth as your head falls back, gripping into her wife-beater as you moan out her name—the fabric pulling between your fingers. you always sounded so pretty.

soon, her lips meet the clevage of your breasts. her breath tickles against the sensitive skin, and vi doesn't wait until shes closing her mouth hungrily around your nipple. her tongue swirls the sensitive bud, biting it and following with a kiss on your bud as some form of an apology. your hands come down to tangle into her hair, pushing her closer, just begging for more. and god does she give you it.

vi's freehand snakes up the side of your waist, roughly grabbing your tit into her palm as she her thumb and index come to tease your nipple. you feel a warmth pool between your thighs, a whine slipping past your lips as you're pulling her hair in for more. vi's tongue works magic, coming off your right tit with a pop—saliva connecting her to your supple skin before she moves to the other side. vi's rougher this time. squeezing and tugging at your nipple on one of your breasts as her mouth eats the other like it's candy.

"fuck, you taste so good." her voice is hoarse, a clear strain in it that has butterflies whirling up inside of you with her husky tone. vi doesn't waste a moment, standing up straight and quickly undoing the buckle on her pants. you move onto your knees, and she smirks.

"what a good girl," she eggs on, "you wanna please me?" you nod almost feverishly, and vi leans back against the edge of the table while you kneel right in front of her. your hands slip into the hem of her pants, pulling them off from her hips and down her thighs with her underwear. vi's hand makes it's way onto your head, petting the hair gently before her grip tightens and pushes you closer to her.

you're such a fox with it, too. your eyes stay locked with hers, looking up so prettily as you close your lips around her clit with a hard suck. vi curses under her breath, her eyebrows knitting together as her grip on your hair only tightens, holding you in place. you press your tongue into her, that sweet salty taste on your buds driving you crazy as you start to eat her out.

your hands slide up her thighs, holding her hips as your eyes close, moaning when you flatten your tongue and drag it all the way up with just the right amount of pressure that has vi's head falling back. you look up, and by god the view is straight out of heaven. her fingers tangled in your hair, the definition of her neck excentuating as she leans it back, the breathless string of curses falling off the tip of her tongue. you can't help but fall in love with your girlfriend once again.

you go back down on her without a moment to waste, your tongue flicking against her harshly as a heavy blush fades over her face. you were always attuned with each other's bodies, whether it be in caring for the other in sickness, or if it was you eating her out like there was no tomorrow. your tongue speeds up against her, lips closing around her clit and sucking the bud into your mouth. she's so fucking wet, the mixture of your saliva and her slick dripping down her thighs and rubbing all down your chin and the sides of your cheeks. your hands slide down from their hold on her hips, resting onto her upper thighs as you feel the muscles in her quads tense up each time you flick your tongue against her once more. you can’t help but get so into it, your grip on her increasing until the pads of your fingers dip into her thighs, your tongue latching onto her with a moan. vi is loving it too. you feel her grip waver on your head by the second, flatering as you eat her out like it’s no tomorrow all while keeping your gaze locked into her pretty face just as she taught you. vi scoots back on the table even further, her thighs slightly spreading as she pushes you even closer to her. you hum in response, not stopping for a moment to take a breath. she mutters out a shaky ‘fuck, princess’ once more as you feel her quads tense up a little.

"shit, baby. i'm so close." she looks back down to you, her eyes clouded over as her pupils dialate when her gaze locks onto your face. you smile, dragging your mouth up her once again as the tip of your tongue flicks quickly around her clit, leaning into her pussy with an opened-mouth kiss. vi's freehand quickly grabs your head as well, both hands now pushing you into her as her breathing becomes staggered. vi’s fingers tighten their grip in your hair, and you continue working your tongue when she suddenly tenses her thighs around your head, pressing against your ears as her head falls back once more and her breathing quickens. she seems to hold her breath for a second, before that familiar build up snaps inside her and her breath wavers, heaving—a pool of wetness suddenly sloshing messily onto your tongue. you slow down your pace, vi pulling your head back as she leans down to grab the nape of your neck and pull you up to your feet. her lips slam right against yours, kissing you passionately as both her hands push your pants off of your hips. vi moves with such vigour, and before you know it, she pushes you down and lays you flat on the conference table as her forearms lift the underside of your knees to adjust your hips as she stands between your legs.

vi's eyes trail around your heaving form, all sprawled out so wonderfully—spread out and ready for her, completely bare just for her eyes to pick apart and her hands to please. you feel vi's fingers press against your hole before pulling back slowly as she watches your slick stick to her fingers. suddenly, she dips two fingers between your slit, rubbing upward and flicking the underside of your clit as your body squirms in response.

vi's freehand slides up between your breasts, resting on your neck as she hold's you down firmly with a wink. before you can even say anything two large fingers push in slowly, sinking into your cunt with that familiar stretch as she scissors her way through your soft walls. you buck your hips into her, whining as she pulls her fingers out only to push them back in a little quicker. by this point, you're reduced purely into a series of desperate moans. vi's thumb swirls around your clit, pressing down just right as her ring and middle fingers pick up speed and start to pound into you. you tighten around her quickly, arching your back off the table with a pap pap pap of your wetness dripping between your thighs—making a mess out of your pussy, the table, and vi's forearm.

none of that seems to put her off though, quite the opposite. vi quickly kneels down, her freehand pressing down onto your womb as her lips close around your clit. you almost scream out her name, slapping a hand over your mouth as her fingers curl upwards inside you before dragging out, just to slam back in not even a second later. the pace vi's chosen to fingerfuck you with seems almost hateful, a thought that's completely washed away with how she starts to lap at your sloppy pussy like it's the best meal she's had in years. your hand grips the edge of the table, moans falling out of your lips without a thought behind it. and how could you even think anything at all? not when vi slowly eases a third finger into your cunt, her tongue flicking against your clit as the palm of her other hand dips into the flesh of your stomach to hold your hips down exactly where she wants. you almost feel like your mind is falling apart by now, completely overtaken by vi's assault on your poor, poor pussy.

as vi feels you finally adjust to her by the tiniest bit, her pace speeds up once more. she stands up, twisting her fingers inside of you so that the heel of her palm slaps against your clit each time her fingers bottom out. the sounds reverberating throughout the room are sinful, your moans bouncing off the walls like a mantra, only to be suddenly eaten up when vi leans down to kiss you feverishly. by this point, you don't even know if this can classify as a kiss anymore. vi's tongue drags right against your lips, pushing past your lips and muffled moans as shes tasting you for the nth time tonight. I

but just because shes pressing her tongue into your mouth doesn't mean shes forgotten about her pussy yet. vi's fingers only speed up each time she notices you trying to swirl your tongue back against hers, because ???, you shouldn't even have the brain to know your own name right now.

her fingers twist and pull out, slamming back in over and over as she nudges right against the spot deep inside that has you whining out with each curl of her hand. vi feels a sudden pool of wetness start to splash out of you, your pussy tightening up around her fingers so much that she starts to use the force of her bicep to continue pushing back into your sloppy cunt.

"vi—fuck, vi. i'm so close." truth be told, you don't even know if you were able to formulate those words out of your head and past your lips. luckily for you, vi only smirks in response, her fingers suddenly increasing it's pace as her freehand comes down to rub firm circles into your clit.

"cum then." just as you hear those two magic words, your hips start to tremble and you cry out, shifting your hips which vi quickly holds down with a firm grip. you feel that familar build of warmth deep inside your pussy, your body trembling before you finally come to your high and snap. you let out a strangled moan, your hips rocking into her hand as vi continues to fuck you through your orgasm. and yet even as you’ve ridden out your climax, she doesn’t let up.

you shakily move your hand down to her wrist, struggling and whining desperately about how it’s foo much. vi gives a particularly harsh clit on your clit in response, your hand pushing her away faltering, while her three fingers nestled in your pussy scissor and curl up like they're trying to rearrange your womb. your jaw drops as you throw your head back, overstimulated beyond belief when you suddenly feel a strange warmth build up once again. before you can even process what was happening it quickly builds up and you squirt all over vi’s forearm by the next second. you think you hear vi say something, but you don't even have half of a mind to be able to tell the color of the ceiling at this point. gently, her fingers slow down, pulling out of your cunt as she cups your pussy and rubs your labia almost comfortingly.

"you still with me, princess?" vi leans over you, noticing the second her touch finally leaves your pussy you go limp right onto the table.

"you are a demon" you smile shakily, your hands coming up to cover your face as your squeeze your thighs together, still trembling in the aftershocks of your orgasm. vi only scoffs in response, amused as she presses a comforting kiss against your forehead.

"you know it."

You're watching...

© PeachTVs 2024

[hoshifighting]

what kind of nudes they would send you? 👉🏻👈🏻

WARNINGS: smut, mentions of penis anatomy, male body anatomy.

seungcheol: one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, holding it up right so you can see the huge length. phone propped low to catch his abs, chest, and a big delicious smile.

jeonghan: lying down, hand lazily holding his half-hard cock against his stomach, shadows doing all the work. “this good enough for you, babe?”

joshua: sheets slightly covering his cock, one hand slipping underneath like he’s just teasing himself. bonus: his pouty lips in the shot like he’s waiting for your permission to touch.

junhui: standing in front of a mirror, completely naked, flexing a little, with his dick hanging low. he’d throw in a wink too.

hoshi: a pic of his cock leaking, hand gripping it tight, his thigh muscles flexed as he props one leg up on the puff. there’s a tiger plush in the corner. it kills you, but somehow it works.

wonwoo: it’s a mirror pic in his bathroom, dick out, one hand languidly holding it, while he flexes his abs, and the veins of his hand. no caption, no emojis—just the picture. he knows it’ll have you spiraling.

woozi: accidental thirst trap. he sends you a random post-shower pic, towel slung low on his hips, wet hair clinging to his forehead, and his hard cock half-hidden. “oh, oops, didn’t mean to send that.”

minghao: taken from the side, showing off his hips, his cock semi-hard against his thigh, with some dramatic lighting in the background. the veins of his arm, and lower belly POPPING.

mingyu: another mirror whore. he’s taking the pic in his bedroom mirror, one hand stroking himself, abs and v-line shinng and you don't know if it's sweat, oil, or mosturizer. the smirk he gives is almost as cocky as his stupidly hard dick.

seokmin: the shy teaser. he sends you a pic of just the tip of his cock, all red and leaking, his hand covering the rest but barely in the frame. “is this… okay?” like, yes, it’s okay, now send the whole damn thing.

seungkwan: never thought he would send a nude, firstly. so it's aa tight shot of just his cock, leaking and red at the tip, his hand hovering like he’s debating whether to jerk off or not. “you’re making me like this, you know that?” he’s nervous, but he’s loving how wild it’ll make you.

vernon: lounging on the couch, sweatpants pushed low enough to expose his cock resting against his abs, hand casually draped over it. “so… you up?” he acts like it’s no big deal, but he’s grinning like crazy after hitting send, creating a scenario in his mind where you look at the pic while touching yourself.

chan: a full-body selfie of him sitting on the edge of the bed, cock hard and curved up against his stomach, face flushed and biting his lip. “thinking about you, noona. can I come over?”

[kateschi]

get them fangirls away!

synopsis: katsuki’s greatest battle isn’t on the field—it’s surviving relentless fangirls. good thing he has you to shield him

pairing: secondyear!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

katsuki doesn’t run away from fights. he’s a fighter—loud, explosive, and always ready for a challenge.

but this?

this is different. this is a nightmare of his own making, and no amount of explosions is going to fix it.

“dynamight-senpai!” the shrill voices echo down the hallway like a siren’s call, and katsuki’s eye twitches.

his palms spark with irritation as he quickens his pace, trying to lose them in the maze of ua corridors.

but they’re relentless, chasing after him like their lives depend on it. why the hell don’t these brats know when to quit?

“dynamight-senpai! wait for us!”

he clenches his jaw. they’re like a pack of wolves, except these wolves ask for autographs and selfies instead of sinking their teeth in. still, they’re dangerous.

his eyes dart around, scanning the hallway for any possible escape route, when he spots you up ahead.

you’re leaning casually against your locker, completely unaware of the chaos barrelling toward you.

a plan clicks into place immediately.

he pushes off the ground, sprinting towards you with quick, desperate steps.

the frantic pounding of his footsteps catches your attention just as he skids to a stop behind you, ducking down to use you as a human shield.

“katsuki—what the hell are you doing?” you ask, eyes wide with confusion as you turn to face him.

“fangirls!” he hisses, crouching even lower behind you, his breath slightly ragged. his red eyes flicker toward the hallway entrance where the fangirls are rounding the corner, their faces lighting up the moment they spot him.

before you can ask any more questions, the first-years come to a screeching halt in front of you, out of breath but still buzzing with excitement.

they don’t even seem to notice you, their eyes locked onto katsuki who is half-hidden behind you like a kid caught in trouble.

“dynamight-senpai!” the leader squeals, pushing her way to the front of the group. “we’ve been looking all over for you!”

katsuki grits his teeth and curses under his breath, barely peeking over your shoulder. his hand grips your shoulder a little tighter, holding onto you for dear life.

“go away,” he growls, but his usual explosive tone is muffled by your presence, sounding more irritated than intimidating.

the fangirls, however, are undeterred. in fact, they seem even more excited by the sight of their idol so close—and apparently, within reach.

“we just want a picture, dynamight-senpai!” one of them pleads, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “just one, please?”

“no,” he snaps, but it’s lacking the usual bite. his eyes dart to yours, desperation flashing across his face for a split second. “damn it, why won’t they leave?”

you bite back a laugh. the mighty katsuki, hiding behind his girlfriend from a group of over-eager first-years. this is too good.

taking a step forward, you square your shoulders and block katsuki from view even more. “I think you heard him. he said no.”

the leader of the fangirls blinks, her enthusiasm faltering just a bit as she finally acknowledges your presence. “wait... are you...?”

you raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a knowing smirk. “yeah, I’m his girlfriend.”

the words hang in the air for a moment, and you can practically see the wave of shock that ripples through the group.

the girls exchange stunned looks, their expressions ranging from disbelief to awe.

“dynamight-senpai has a girlfriend?!” one of them whispers, her eyes going wide.

katsuki smirks as he straightens up a little behind you. “yeah, you heard her. my girlfriend. and if you don’t back off, she’ll beat your asses into the ground.”

you glance back at him, giving him a pointed look. “seriously? that’s your plan?”

“damn right it is,” he mutters, crossing his arms as if he’s made the smartest move ever. “they’re annoyin’ the hell outta me. figured I’d let you handle it.”

one of the girls in the back gasps, clutching her hands to her chest.

“wait, we didn’t mean to upset him! we’re just...we’re such big fans of dynamight-senpai! he’s so amazing!”

“yeah!” another chimes in, her eyes wide and pleading. “we didn’t mean any harm!”

you sigh, looking them over. they’re not bad kids—just... overly enthusiastic.

but katsuki is your boyfriend, and while you’re used to his temper, you’re not about to let anyone, even a group of fangirls, mess with him.

“look, I get it,” you say, your tone softening slightly, though you still keep it firm.

“you’re excited and all, but katsuki isn’t some kind of photo op. he’s just trying to get through his day. how about you give him some space?”

the leader looks embarrassed now, her earlier excitement faltering. “we didn’t mean to bother him...”

katsuki huffs from behind you. “you did.”

you glance at him over your shoulder, shaking your head slightly. “so helpful.”

he grumbles under his breath but stays quiet, letting you handle it. you turn back to the girls, offering them a small smile. “just...be respectful, okay?”

the leader nods quickly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “y-yeah, we’ll leave him alone. sorry for bothering you, dynamight-senpai and h/n-senpai.”

katsuki grunts, obviously relieved they’re finally getting the hint. the group lingers for a moment longer before they start shuffling away down the hall, their chatter much quieter now.

once they are gone, you turn to katsuki, raising an eyebrow. “so... hiding behind your girlfriend now? that’s a new one.”

he scowls, though the faint blush creeping up his neck was hard to miss. “shut up. I wasn’t hiding.”

you can’t help but laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. “sure, ‘cause using me as a shield isn’t hiding.”

“tch. you handled it, didn’t you?” he shoves his hands into his pockets, avoiding your gaze. “better than blowin’ ‘em up.”

you smile, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “you’re lucky I’ve got your back.”

he grumbles something under his breath, clearly too stubborn to admit you were right, but he takes his hand out of his pocket to intertwine your fingers together.

of course, that isn’t without a side-eye when you grin.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[milktiicup]

need more of ur scarletella dear lord…. i love how u write mc too <3 could i perhaps request some fluff w our dear mr scarletella? maybe him teaching u words and like. making u say ‘me like you’ or smth HAHAH i feel like he would

probably not the best teacher...!

He places his hand over his heart and says, “Me like you.” You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. “Wait, hold on- are you just sneaking in compliments now?”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ probably not my best work ;;w;; sorry about that

warnings. nooooone at all!

You furrow your brows, and point to the chair. “Table,” you grumble. Mr. Scarletella stares, and stares, and stares. Your mouth tugs into a frown. “Chair…?”

He smiles. You breathe a sigh through your nose. This language learning business was hard… considering it wasn’t even a human language, you’d think you’re doing at least a little okay. 

Probably a little below average, realistically. 

Mr. Scarletella tilts his head, his dull eyes hinting at the amusement he feels. You scowl. He steps closer, umbrella hanging loosely in one hand, the other gesturing toward the chair. “Chair,” he repeats slowly, his voice deep and deliberate, as if coaxing a child.

You sigh, crossing your arms. “That’s what I said! Chair.”

“Not ‘table.’”

Your frown deepens, and you can feel the embarrassment heat up your neck. “I know, I know! It’s just- you could cut me some slack, you know. Your language isn’t exactly easy.”

Mr. Scarletella crouches slightly, bringing himself eye level with you, his expression softening as his gaze lingers into yours. It took all of your will to not look away. What an intense gaze. Jesus… “You try,” he says simply, the words low and soothing. “Good.”

Your frustration melts, and your shoulders untense. You exhale through your nose- what were you even so worked up for? Mr. Scarletella is the most patient person- monster?- you know at the moment, but he isn’t exactly the best teacher… Mr. Silvair was probably better, and yet, Mr. Scarletella insisted he teach you instead.

And by insisted, he just appeared before any time you were walking into Mr. Silvair’s room and whisked you away. Maybe teleported is a better word.

“Let’s try again,” you decide. You point. “Chair. Table. Wall. Ceiling. Floor… Uhm… lamp? Light…” You frown, but Mr. Scarletella doesn’t interrupt you. You suppose they mean the same thing. You’re not too fussed about that. 

Your teacher points to himself. “Me,” he says. He points again. “You.”

You huff. “Me. You. I know that already… Do you think I’m that stupid, huh?”  

He hums thoughtfully, a sound that resonates in his chest more than his throat. Mr. Scarletella stands to his full height, looking down upon you with those dull eyes, then with a deliberate slowness, he points to his chest once more. “Me.”

“Yes, I know, ‘me,’” you repeat, mimicking his motion half-heartedly.

He moves his hand, hovering just shy of your chest. “You.”

“Yeah, I get it- ‘you.’ This is basic stuff.” You cross your arms. “What’s the point of this?”

He places his hand over his heart and says, “Me like you.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. “Wait, hold on- are you just sneaking in compliments now?” Mr. Scarletella is silent, and points to you again, as if silently saying ‘Your turn.’ You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “This feels so weird,” you mumble. You mirror him, pointing to your chest awkwardly. “Me…”

He nods approvingly, his umbrella twitching slightly almost as if he can’t possibly wait for those words to come out of your mouth. You bite the inside of your cheek. “…like you,” you finish, the words feeling clunky on your tongue.

Mr. Scarletella’s smiles, his features softening in a way you rarely see. It isn’t one of those creepy smiles that you’re used to seeing- it’s a small smile, a soft one. It’s subtle but unmistakable- an expression of quiet pride. He leans forward slightly, his umbrella tilting to rest against your shoulder and covering you, as if he was caging you in, as if he wouldn’t possibly let you away from this moment. His unblinking gaze meets yours once again.

“Good,” he says, voice as steady and low as ever, but there’s an unspoken warmth in it. He doesn’t move away, doesn’t break the intensity of his focus. If you weren’t in some different world right now, this would totally be the type of moment where people would kiss.

You swallow. Your heart is thudding almost uncomfortably in your chest. “We’re supposed to be practising your language,” you grumble. 

“Practice good,” he counters.

You roll your eyes, though it’s mostly to distract yourself from the way your stomach twists at his words. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

His umbrella is back over his head again. He steps closer again, waaaay to close in your personal space- but you don’t think you’re complaining about that, not right now, anyway… Mr. Scarletella’s hand hovers near your cheek, but never quite touching. You can feel how cold his skin is, even without the skin-to-skin contact. “Again,” he says.

“Again?” you reply, feigning cluelessness. The way his lips tug up at the corner makes it clear he knows you’re just stalling.

“Me,” he begins, his hand briefly pressing to his chest before extending toward you, “like you.”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “You’re relentless.”

“Say,” he insists softly, his voice coaxing.

Your breath catches. It’s hard to say no when he looks at you like that- calm and unwavering, with just enough patience to make you feel like maybe this whole thing isn’t as ridiculous as it seems. You sigh, your resolve crumbling. “Me… like you,” you mutter again, the words barely above a whisper.

Mr. Scarletella’s reaction is immediate. His dark eyes light up in a way that’s barely perceptible but undeniably there. He steps even closer, his hand finally brushing against your cheek, the coolness of his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“Good,” he says simply, the word carrying more weight than it should.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your ears. “Okay, so we’ve established that I like you and you like me. Can we move on now?”

His thumb grazes your cheek, the faintest of movements. “Not move,” he replies. “Stay.”

You narrow your eyes at him, half-annoyed, half-flustered. “Stay where?”

“Here. With me.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, turning away to hide your face. “You’re ridiculous.”

Mr. Scarletella hums a noise in agreement, completely unbothered. Before you can respond, he takes your hand gently, his grip firm, and tugs you toward him. You stumble slightly, but he steadies you with an ease that makes your heart skip.

“Again,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into a tone so soft it feels almost intimate. “Want again.”

You look up at him, and the sincerity in his gaze makes it impossible to argue. With a resigned sigh, you let your hand rest against your chest and repeat, “Me… like you.”

“Good,” he says again, pulling you just a little closer. “Now… stay.”