#bob just wants you to hold him in your arms forever you’re so strong

[godjo]

✮ — ptolemaea.

you poor thing sweet, mourning lamb there’s nothing you can do it’s already been done

tags — wriothesley x afab!reader. 4k wc. yandere. noncon. non-explicit smut with allusions to oral sex (both receiving), rough sex, creampie, doggy style. minors, blank, and ageless blogs dni. 

from hunter — this is a repost. i listened religiously to ethel cain’s ptolemaea while writing this piece.  ✮

“step onto the platform, please.”

your stomach churns; what little you consumed that day threatens to spill from your mouth. there’s a continuous eddy in your mind, the headache affecting the strength of your bones. 

would you ever be prepared to face this kind of dilemma?

you have been given no chance to contemplate before the security in charge pushes the small of your back. you stagger towards the middle of the platform that will bring you down several feet underwater. as it starts to descend, you inhale whatever amount of fresh air you can, dreading that it’d probably take time before you could see the outside again. 

it’s just for a few months. all you have to do is endure your sentence, and you’ll be free. 

the air slowly turns scant the deeper you descend, as though you’re being submerged even in the absence of water. it doesn’t help that all you’ve seen so far is an endless stretch of metal, closing in on you, augmenting your anxiety. after what seems like forever, the elevator halts, hinting at your arrival, and there you struggle not to marvel at the magnificent view of the water outside. 

however, the security standing by your side tugs at your arm. another wave of nausea fills your throat with acid as the receptionist registers your information and recites the crime you’ve committed. sealing your fate as a prisoner is a quick mugshot before you’re brought to the administrative area. 

your wild eyes scan the area, noticing other newcomers lining up horizontally before a huge metallic door. they are stricken with the same anxiety as you, evident in how their throats are bobbing, their eyes burning holes in the ground.

“stand up straight. the duke is here,” the security announces as the gigantic door creaks open. 

“he’s here; we’re going to die,” the man beside you whispers in hysterics. 

his apprehension is a contagious disease, crawling to stick onto your skin, corrupting what little courage remains in your spine. 

your breath becomes strained and like everybody else, you’ve done your best to make your presence smaller. what is it about the duke that triggers this kind of paranoia?

“ah, here are the flock of lambs,” a strong voice dripping in confidence pronounces, causing the rest of the prisoners to shrink in size, as though all they’ve wanted is to disappear. “should i say ‘welcome’? or you’d rather we skip the pleasantries and go straight to business?”

looking at him now, you understand why the mere mention of his name evokes such palpable horror. he’s a man of tall stature and rough demeanor. his hair, unkempt yet strangely glossy, adds to the unnatural charm he possesses. it’s dark like a raven’s feathers, interspersed with strands of gray that somehow enhance his roguish appearance. 

he starts his scrutiny at the other end of the line, saving you for last. as he scans the prisoners, his mouth remains in a tight line, with an occasional cock of the brow or twitch of the lips. 

“and for the last one…” his tone tilts between authority and mischief, leaving no room for defiance. 

your heart hammers against your ribs, but fear holds your gaze down. mentally cursing yourself for potentially igniting the duke’s ire, you flinch when his warm fingers swiftly lift your chin. 

you suck in a sharp breath, expecting to be greeted by annoyance. what’s painted on his face is an expression you cannot quite name. his pale gray eyes are blown wide, penetrating you straight to the soul. lips slightly agape, he displays an image of someone utterly surprised. it hasn’t taken long for colors to flood his face again, delivered by his conscious recognition of the prisoners’ gawking stares. 

the duke clears his throat, summoning back his menacing aura. he motions for the nearest securities, instructing that they discuss the rules and send the prisoners to their respective bunkers. 

however, he finds your eyes again just as you’re preparing to follow the throng. 

“you. follow me,” declares the duke. 

it couldn’t have been anyone else, even though you turn around to see if he’s speaking to someone other than you. realizing the weight of the command, your heart lurches in your throat. how much anxiety can you handle for a day? and what could possibly compel him to seek a private audience with you?

behind the gargantuan doors, you find yourself yet again inside an unsettling chamber. the aged yet robust metal dominates the space, boasting the formidable reputation of the fortress of meropide. once or twice you have envisioned yourself barred in this place, courtesy of your way of living, but nothing can size up the fear of being here in flesh and bone. 

“i’m over here,” the duke echoes from above.

cut away from your reverie, you ascend the stairs upwards to the third level. the metal sculptures of three-headed wolves catch your eye, their craftsmanship a marvel, set amidst numerous bookshelves filled with various genres. in the center of the room sits a spacious table piled with papers, while another stands to your right, equally laden with documents.

“you’re probably wondering why you’re here,” he begins, reclining the back of his lower body against the table, strong arms crossed over his chest. “don’t worry, i’m not gonna hurt you. i’d merely like to ask you a few questions.”

through your parched throat, you respond, “ask away, your… your grace.”

to your surprise, the duke’s shoulders shake as his mouth echoes a merry laughter. 

“c’mon! loosen up. don’t you remember who i am?” he asks in between full-throated chuckles. “have i changed that drastically?” 

don’t you remember who i am? 

now that he’s mentioned it, there’s a wriggling part of your brain that finds him familiar. however, try as you might to fish for a particular memory involving him, you can only grasp at nothing. he remains just a figure you likely crossed paths with on a street somewhere.

“i… i can’t remember—”

he spreads his arms in glee, closing the distance between you without respect for personal space. large hands capture your shoulders, then, shaking you with undeniable enthusiasm. 

“it’s me! wriothesley! the boy from the orphanage. remember?”

memories flood your mind: blurred recollections of a boy with raven-like hair and pale gray eyes, scenes of a brawl in the yard where his fists repeatedly struck another orphan’s jaw. more images rush in: him behind bars, and you offering a piece of bread to his bloodied hands.

“wrio? is that really you?” you ask breathlessly. your hands have found their way on his shoulders, too. 

“yes, it’s me! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? how are you?” he looks like he’d seen a ghost, but there’s no trickle of terror in the planes of his face. only wonderment and utter euphoria. before you can respond, he raises a finger and dialed the nearest telephone, commanding whoever is at the end of the line to bring refreshments inside his office. 

he leads the both of you to the lone sofa before repeating his question. 

“well i… i tried to get by after the adoption,” you tell him, pursing your lips at the memory. “it wasn’t so dreadful, being in that house, but i wouldn’t claim that it had been easy. how about you?” your eyes wander at the expanse of the room. “you govern the fortress now? what even happened to you?” 

wriothesley’s lips stretch to a smile. “yeah. who would’ve thought that a rascal like me can do it, right?”

you playfully punch his shoulder. “you’ve always had that command in you, wrio. even when we were in the orphanage. you stood tall and lived by your principles. no wonder papa and mama liked you so much back then. speaking of which, do you know where they are now?” 

after your adoption, you haven’t had the ability to contact the orphanage and ask about everyone’s well-being. since you have been living by scraps, you’ve focused instead on surviving without any spare time to visit the orphanage. 

“papa and mama, huh?” an overcast went over his eyes. his words have a bite to them that you cannot decipher. when he looks back at you, there’s a cloud on his face as he mutters, “i killed them.”

the confession immediately turns your veins cold. he looks dead serious.

“what?” a nervous chuckle reverberates from you. “that’s a bad joke.”

his eyes are the most unsettling gray you have ever witnessed. 

“i know you haven’t had the best experience with your adoptive parents. none of the adopted children had. papa and mama took care of us, just so they could sell us. do you know that some of the children even died after being adopted? i did the right thing killing those fuckers,” he confesses without a trace of remorse for the gravity of what he’s done.

this is too much to take in one sitting. your head throbs again with a new intensity. perhaps it’s the years that you’ve been gone that exacerbates his revelation. you vividly recall the day you parted ways with the orphanage owner, tears in their eyes as they reluctantly let you go to your new foster parents. it was a poignant farewell, etched as your last memory of them. now you wonder, was it all a facade?

before you can bombard him with a set of questions, the arrival of refreshments completely dismisses the whole tête-à-tête. the security who’s placed the glasses on the table bestows you a questioning look; one that you would’ve missed had you the heart meet wriothesley’s gaze. through his dubious disposition, you realize how bizarre the scene might have looked like for an outsider. 

wriothesley overlooks the whole fortress, and you are a prisoner meant to serve your time. why are you drinking with the duke?

shame has found its way to settle in the pit of your stomach. you feel self-conscious about your appearance; a full day without bathing since your capture is not how you wished to present yourself to your old acquaintance. he’s climbed his way up as one of the authorities in fontaine, while you remain at the bottom of the food chain. things are not the same. 

“i should probably go to my bunker,” you voice after the security’s departure. “it doesn’t look good that you have a prisoner here.”

“nonsense,” wriothesley counters. “you’re not a stranger. and i don’t care whatever crime you’ve committed on the surface: you are my visitor here.”

you shake your head. despite the multiple stealing you’ve done until now, you still harbor a sense of dignity. it’s just as they say: you do the crime, you do the time. 

“no, wrio. i’m here as a prisoner. i’ll do whatever is required of me. it’s my punishment.” 

wriothesley sighs in defeat; an action you haven’t expected to come easily from him. 

“alright, then. you win.” he reaches for your hand and grasps. “you won’t deny me the occasional meals, though? you’re still my friend and it’s the least i could do for you.”

that marks the highlight of your first day inside the fortress. 

never in your wildest dreams could you have anticipated such a twist of fate, yet you can’t deny the comfort of seeing a familiar face in this bleak environment.

as the days of your imprisonment tick by, you’ve adapted to the routine within the prison walls. you’ve learned the importance of coupons and how to obtain them to survive. unlike most inmates who are tasked with heavy labor, you find yourself often idle. this is not due to any sloth on your part, as you’re eager to earn your keep, but it would seem as though the rest of the administrators have no job to assign you. which is peculiar in a sense that everybody has something on their hands. 

“how are you coping?” wriothesley asks during lunch. it’s one of those days when he’d summon you to eat with him. 

you fork the food on your plate, too conscious to wolf them down. the cafeteria’s open layout exposes the generous hospitality being extended to you, making you acutely aware of the conspicuous display. somehow, it gets to your skin, as though you have no more face to save. 

“everybody’s nice,” you reveal. they really are; there’s no lie in the statement. truth be told, the fortress is like a community where you work and earn a living. however, by definition, it remains a huge cage for wrongdoers like you. “but i can’t wait to go out.”

the cafeteria holds its breath when wrio’s utensils clatter against his plate. eyes turn towards your table, speculation rife that an argument is brewing. you glance around nervously, aware of the attention drawn by his prolonged silence.

“a… are you alright?” you stammer. 

“yeah,” he answers before lifting his head and displaying a smile that does not reach the eyes. “there was a weird taste in my mouth. what were you saying again?”

“oh… forget it,” you answer, wanting to dismiss the whole conversation as quickly as possible. “it’s nothing important.”

“i thought so,” he whispers without erasing his uncanny smile. 

at first, you conjectured that the source of wriothesley’s hospitality stemmed from his time at the orphanage, when he was punished for misconduct. unaware of the rules as a newcomer, and traumatized by the sudden upheaval in his life, he was quick to lash at the other kids. there had been a time that he would’ve beaten another orphan to death had no one interfered. it was only by the grace of the owners that he wasn’t kicked out.

in contrast, you had strived to keep a low profile during your orphanage days, knowing that well-behaved children stood a better chance of adoption. only once did you veer to the path of disobedience, and that had been the time when you stole bread for wriothesley. 

that first and last encounter had been brief and quickly forgotten over time, only resurfacing now upon your unexpected reunion.

you wouldn’t have expected that such a simple act of charity would help you tremendously during your life’s biggest disaster.

from the bottom of your heart, you acknowledge that life in meropide would have been harder without him. the depth of your gratitude for his companionship transcends words. and you swear by all the archons, you appreciate all that he’s done for you. 

that’s why it doesn’t make you feel good— not at all — to betray such munificence with doubt and a feeling of disquiet. 

have you gone paranoid? can you trust your guts? or are you simply unaccustomed to kindness?

but it’s not any of those things, is it? 

you wrestle with the idea that your paranoia might be justified. there’s validity in a way that your heart hasn’t been tranquil ever since the repudiation of your release. such holdup hinges on your distant aunt’s failure to communicate with the administrators of the prison. they refuse to issue your release without her signature. 

at first, you dismissed the dreadful news with masked disappointment. she lives miles away from the fortress. a little patience is all you need. yet, the absurdity gnaws at you—why should an orphaned adult still require the consent of a relative who never cared? 

for months you mingled with the rest of the prisoners without trouble. what harm could a few more days bring? and it would’ve been easy except for one thing. 

together with the anticipation of freedom there springs wriothesley’s unnatural behavior. certainly, you have been accustomed to his magnanimous nature, but not to his seemingly obsessed disposition. 

for one, he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. on the night before your release, you’ve woken up just to see him inside your bunker, sitting with arms hugging his knees at the edge of your bed, head tilted downward. the pounding of your heart drowned out all other sounds, making sleep elusive and confrontation daunting. convinced he would offer an explanation in due time, you pretended that nothing happened the next day. 

how many times has he sat there, barging in your bunker unannounced while guarding your sleep? you shudder at the thought. but it’s time you put an end to your suspicions. it’s time that you go up there, in his office, and find the answers you seek. 

“i’m sorry, but as per the duke’s order, no one is allowed inside until his return,” the security standing guard outside wriothesley’s office announces. 

“i told you; i was ordered to clean his office,” you insist for what seems like the thousandth time. of course, it’s a lie. however, you are not going to pass up the opportunity of sleuthing, especially with wriothesley’s absence. 

“the answer is no. it’s a strict rule from the duke himself,” he repeats. 

you swallow the bitter reality of what you’re about to do. you have never thought of weaponizing wriothesley’s treatment of you, but he leaves you with no choice.

“so, if he comes back and finds his office in disarray, i only need to mention that a certain guard wouldn’t let me in, right?” at your words, the security blinks frantically. “do you know how much wrio favors me? or do you need proof? but i’m telling you, right now: the proof wouldn’t be as pleasant for you.”

as you stand inside the room, your eyes sweep across its vast expanse, searching without a clear idea of what evidence you seek. yet, an instinctive feeling drives you—the conviction that the reason behind the prolonged delay of your release lies hidden somewhere within these walls. relying on your years of stealth and skill as a thief, your confidence grows in your ability to navigate this risky venture unscathed.

this is a bold move, facing potential consequences, and you know better than to underestimate wriothesley.

to summon a leveled head, you breathe, in and out, while fishing for the lock pick tucked inside your back pocket. 

you waste no time climbing the stairs to his desk. all proceedings certainly go through him before anyone else. perhaps you can find your release paper, already signed, among this endless heap of legal documents.

no, if he intends to keep it, he wouldn’t have it openly displayed. though the reasons for wriothesley’s denial of your freedom elude you, instinct alone guides your courage. abandoning your sleuth, you move on to open the drawers instead. beads of sweat dots your forehead, heart refusing to calm down as the lock pick you fashioned from a scrap metal jammed into the keyhole.

there’s nothing inside but another stack of paper containing the fortress’ mundane transactions. the weight of uncertainty bears down upon you like a relentless specter, your eyes flickering towards the staircase with a mix of fear and urgency. moored by the bookshelves, you grasp a volume, its hard cover yielding warmth against your palm. pages are turned in rapid succession, driven by your inexorable desperation to find something.

it has to be here. it has to be. 

“where is it? where is it? where is it?”

quick! where else would he keep it? think, think, think! 

“found what you’re looking for?”

hearing his voice feels as though you’ve pummeled down from the steepest cliff; that your innards have been hammered to smithereens; that your heart has been taken right from your ribcage. your veins turn to ice, knees threatening to buckle beneath you. 

“w… wrio…” you frenziedly grapple for reasons; anything that’d validate your suspicious presence in his office. “i was… i was just tidying up the space.”

“for what?” his eyes roam around the room that looks rather polished before settling on the book you clutch in your hands. “i didn’t know you’re interested in gardening.”

taking a gander at the book in your hands, you force a sheepish smile upon seeing its title. a comprehensive guide in gardening across different topographies in fontaine.

“if it’s not too much to ask, i’d like to borrow this book.” you steel your facade, refusing to give him an inch. it’s futile, knowing you’re crumbling inside, wishing to vanish into thin air to evade his palpable vexation.

“you see…” wriothesley begins, licking the inside of his cheek. “as far as i can remember, i told the guards not to let anyone in.”

you open your mouth to speak, but the grievous solemnity of his demeanor stops your words.  

“what are you doing here?”

“i told you, i was just—”

“what are you doing here?”

he already knows the answer; you just have to say it. like a feeble insect trapped in a spider’s web, you see no chances of escaping. the only thing you could do is to shackle your suspicions and hope that wriothesley somehow disproves them. 

“i was wondering about my release. it has been days and i…”

“grow suspicious of me?” he finishes. “thinking that i have something to do with it?” 

each step he takes brings your back closer to the bookshelves. until he has you trapped with his overwhelming presence. he’s so close you can smell a whiff of his perfume; even that exudes his unquestionable authority. 

“i just want to know the truth,” is your helpless whisper. you feel like a little lamb caught between the sharp claws of the wolf. 

with one hand, he takes the book from your hands, eyes never leaving your face, as he places it back to where it belongs. 

“oh, you’d never like it,” he divulges. 

mustering up the courage to flee from his entrapment, the thorns in your throat intensified after putting all your might to push him away only to suffer in vain. 

“please, wrio, let me go,” you huff, fighting back tears. 

your plea goes through deaf ears. not even a sliver of interest or acknowledgment can be seen in the depths of his eyes. 

“your aunt and her whole family left fontaine before she had to sign your papers. i had my men standing guard on her house just in case she comes back, but it’d seem she’s sold the whole lot to never come back,” he discloses. 

“what?” all the remaining hope stings you like betrayal. but of course, you should’ve expected less from a relative you’ve never even met before. 

wriothesley relaxes, but his body remains as overpowering before you. 

“i know what it feels like to not have someone, that’s why i didn’t know how to tell you,” he says, each word threaded carefully as if he refuses to shatter the delicate thing in front of him any further. 

to think that you’ve doubted him despite his keen interest in your well-being is more than enough to cause you unutterable shame. 

“i’m sorry, wrio. i… i didn’t know,” you admit shamefully. 

hand on his hip, he sighs, “i just can’t understand. after everything i’ve done for you, this is what i get in return?”

panic grips you in its cruel embrace. you shake your head, reaching for him. 

“it’s not my intention to hurt nor dismiss your kindness, i swear. i just… i’ll make it up to you.”

wriothesley perks up at the statement. it’s eerily noticeable how his grim bearing changes to that of a curious one. “you’ll do anything, then?” 

what accursed territory have you placed yourself in?

“anything.”

“then, kneel,” he commands after a heartbeat. 

there are two directions where your obedience can possibly turn to, and yet both choices cause your stomach to double over. in spite of your fear, you’ve acknowledged with terror that the point of return has already been barred. your knees buckle. 

fat tears dot the corner of your eyes, like crystal jewels of insurmountable value, as he unravels himself, and you take him in your mouth. he moves at first with delicacy, as though he fears of shattering such bliss. the warm flesh of your mouth, velvet-soft around him. you’re raw from shame; he’s rawed out from pleasure. 

diabolical desire urges that he push himself deeper, further, make you gag with guilt and watch your mouth reach him to the hilt. like dust of stars, tears now cling to your lashes, as your lips harvest the seed of his gluttony. 

in rapid succession he buries himself down your throat, reaching places no one else has trespassed in. your nails carve crescent moons on his pale skin, roguish marks to prove the existence of a fight, no matter how pathetic. 

he hungers, and hungers, and hungers. until his bones ached from his greed, and pleasure carves the pinnacle of release. beneath the ache in his incessant breath, he wells inside your mouth. when all sensibility has left, he taints your tongue with rife and thick globules, begging to be swallowed. 

tenderly he holds you, like his touches can heal your rotten sinews. at the end of his fingertips, your skin burns and he sinks you deeper into his pit. this place drowns in sweltering heat, from the shame, from the pain, from the guilt. the planes of your back settle on the oak table, etching the tale of his devouring. he peels you open with every lick; a fruit he wouldn’t mind the consequences of eating.

what is this, you think, the betrayal of the body? you despair how you shiver from his tongue; how you reek of humiliation when his fingers push into your dripping flesh. fog over your head, the clouds somber, the cruel zenith warm on your stomach, exploding in shades of red. since when did pleasure and poison start tasting the same?

“on your stomach,” he whispers, eyes dilated with barbarism.

the hunger continues. another triumph, another defeat. fingernails raking the wood, another tale of wrath unheard, of innocence gone. he lodges between your legs, pushing himself through the fluttering folds, tarnishing the flesh. your throat burns but you will not scream. 

he fucks you with absolute abandon. he fucks you with an appetite of a man deprived. 

lips between your teeth, crimson trails down your chin. he wants to turn your insides into pulp; to rattle both your bones and knit them together. with increasing greed, his movement turns rabid. your eyes glossy, your tears silent, as you swallow the vile reality of fulfilling his need. 

“i’m so close,” he grunts, the sound of his voice coming from deep within. 

your silence is a rebellion against your traitorous body. shrouded with mortification, you flare around his length, and he revels at the feeling. he concedes to the tight sensation, spilling every fiber of his being inside the warmth of your flesh. there’s too much of him inside you, that he leaks like liquid ivory from the wet and abused hole, trailing languorously between your shaking legs. 

you run to the abyss, to the sweet caress of sleep, hoping that once you wake up, you’re whole again. 

wriothesley observed your countenance as you slept upon the couch, noting with curiosity the weariness etched upon your features even in repose. he gently draws the silk sheet to cover you fully, then rises from his seat. proceeding to the telephone, he summons a meal, foreseeing your imminent awakening and the hunger it will bring.

now, he proceeds to one of the bookshelves, retrieving a particular book. a comprehensive guide in gardening across different topographies in fontaine. to think that you’ve been this close to knowing the truth. 

he opens the book, flipping through its final pages until he locates the concealed folded paper. despite the creases marring its surface, the parchment appears new. unfolding it has given him a sense of relief, like an anchor to his sanity. 

it reveals the deed to your aunt’s estate, which he acquired shortly before your release. now, the elderly woman resides a great distance away, forever barred from returning.

they would be foolish to return, especially with their lives at stake.

wriothesley’s lips curl in a bitter twist. believe him when he says he never intended for you to endure the same fate as he did. yet, endure it you must, just as he once did, for he is not so benevolent as to set you free.

[heqvenlymoons]

That One, I Want That One

Based on @fleursroses 's incorrect quote! <3

This is being posted as a oneshot on both my AO3 account and here on tumblr for now but I'm seriously considering turning it into a multi-chaptered fic because how well it was received. Someone said it had rom com potential and I can see it 😭

Daminette One Shot | Crack Fic | AO3

Damian tugged on the collar of his great dane, Titus, trying to get away from his imbecile brothers. 

It was a futile endeavour, as his brothers merely sped up their walking pace, talking over one another. 

“Come on, Dami! We just wanna know,” Richard— Grayson, because he was currently being a nuisance— whined. 

Todd scoffed, waving around the toy Nerf gun he insisted on bringing. “You know what? The brat’s probably better off without a wife, god forbid whoever gets stuck with him forever. I bet you, the little shit’s gonna be the one blackmailing someone into being his wife if he sees fit.” 

“Fuck you, Todd.” Damian’s fingers itched to grab his katana and slit it over his idiotic brother’s throat but at last, his father and pseudo grandfather figure, Alfred, had confiscated the knives he tried to sneak out on their business trip to Paris. 

Drake sipped on his coffee, his head bobbing up and down as he struggled to stay awake, even as he mumbled an incoherent, “You’re never going to get an answer if you aggravate him like that, Jay. Although I’d still like to know as well.” 

He hadn’t finished his sentence when he stumbled into a nearby pedestrian, almost kissing the ground had Todd not grabbed him by the collar at the last second.

During the mishap, the coffee cup Drake was holding spilled onto the floor, seeping into the ground as he stared at it with mournful eyes. “My coffee!” 

Todd rolled his eyes, letting go of the sleep-deprived Drake’s collar with an unsympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Damian’s lips curved up to a smirk. Perhaps that would keep Drake quiet for a few minutes as he mourned his spilled coffee. 

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop Grayson or Todd from their irritating line of questioning his so-called ‘love life’. 

Damian glared when Grayson pulled out the puppy doll eyes, accompanied by his repeated question, “Come on, please? Just answer the question— what’s your ideal type?” 

“Repeating the question with that pathetic expression of yours does not make me any more inclined to answer your question.” Damian spotted a bakery up ahead and approached it, ignoring Grayson’s pout. 

Perhaps his dingbat brothers would behave themselves in an embellishment full of people, although that would be wishful thinking on his part. 

His brothers, of course, followed him and continued to push their relentless questions onto him 

Todd grabbed his arm, stopping him, a glint of glee in his eyes, no doubt finding amusement in his current predicament. “You know, we’re not going to stop bothering you until you tell us.” 

Damian’s brows furrowed in annoyance, knowing full well from experience that his brothers would not stop poking and prodding until he did what they wanted. 

Right now, they wanted to know his ideal type, and they claimed his answer was to sedate their ever-growing ‘curiosity’ when he knew they wanted to utilize the information to set him up with someone. 

He scowled, making his decision. He would tell them only to make them stop badgering him about the inane question but that didn’t mean he was open to the idea of a relationship with someone they chose for him 

“Fine. My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. You imbeciles better not utilize this information to set me up with someone or I will stab you.” He hissed, sending them his most intimidating glare for good measure. 

Todd dared to smirk at him. “Not likely, Demon Spawn. And even if we did, you won’t stab us. You’re all bark and no bite.” 

In response, Damian kicked him in the knee, making the older double over with a grunt. 

Before he could continue his assault, Grayson dragged him away, Todd spitting curses from where he lay on the ground in a starfish position, the Nerf gun on the ground beside him. 

Grayson was already wearing the contemplative expression he had on whenever he was about to do something stupid. “Okay~ that’s enough, little D. Back to what we were discussing, your future girlfriend has to be brave, strong, and smart, you say?” 

Damian gritted his teeth. “You are paraphrasing at best but I assume you already got the general idea because I am not going to repeat myself for your benefit.” 

He turned and before he could turn the door handle of the bakery to continue his dramatic exit (or in this case, dramatic entry), the door flew open and it would’ve hit him in the face had it not been for his quick reflexes.

The scowl reappeared on his face and he turned back to reprimand the person who dared try to attack him with a door to see a girl about his age, shuffling past his bewildered brothers in a hurry. 

Damian blinked, watching as the girl with raven-haired pigtails promptly tripped over nothing, crashing into the pole, the box she was holding fell from her hands and macaroons came tumbling out. 

He watched with interest as the girl mumbled out apologies to the inanimate object, picking up the fallen macaroons from the ground while she did and putting them back in the box. 

Snapping out of his daze, he handed Titus’s leash to Grayson before moving to help the girl, grabbing the remains of the macaroons from the ground and placing them in a neat row in the box.

He held out a hand for the girl to take, which she accepted with a grateful look and he pulled her to her feet. 

Getting a good look at her face, he was filled with a fluttering sensation in his stomach and he ignored it, thinking he must be coming down with a stomach bug. “Are you alright? That was quite a fall.”

Her bluebell eyes were blown wide, staring into his green ones with surprise. She broke the stare first, shaking her head before responding, “I’m fine! Thank you for your help, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Her phone dinged and she yelped. “I’m sorry but I’m already late, see you around, mysterious handsome but kind person!”  

He opened his mouth to respond but she had already sped away, only catching sight of her red face as she turned.

His face heated as his mind caught up with her words. The girl was definitely something… 

He felt an arm going around his shoulders and he didn’t react, still staring in the direction the girl took off. 

“So, didn’t know Demon Spawn had it in him to talk to a pretty girl without scowling,” Todd drawled, the beginning of a teasing expression appearing on his face when he noticed the dazed look his youngest brother was sporting. 

Damian shoved him away, looking distracted.

Drake shook his head, mumbling, “I must be hallucinating, Demon Spawn would never willingly talk to someone, much less a girl.” 

“That one. I want that one.” Damian declared, unknowingly sending his adopted brothers into cardiac arrest at the words that fell out of his mouth. 

Grayson looked torn between looking wary and gleeful. “Uh… what do you mean by ‘that one’, little D?” 

Damian didn’t look at him as he pointed in the direction the girl ran off. “Her.” 

Todd’s jaws gaped like a fish, for once, speechless. 

Drake in his sleep-deprived state can only dumbly respond, “That’s not how it works, Damian. You can’t just go around adopting people.”

Damian finally dragged his gaze away from the direction the girl had long run off in, glaring at his brothers with his cheeks blazing red. “Not adoption, you imbecile.”

Not giving them the time to respond, he continued, a look of stress crossing his expression before he willed it away. “You lot have to keep Father from adopting her, it would cause complications.”

Grayson hummed. “She does meet the criteria, black hair and blue eyes.”

Todd seemed to have unfrozen, shaking his head in denial. “Wait wait wait, just wait a second. You’re saying, she’s your ideal type? You literally met her 5 minutes ago! I thought you said your future partner must be and I quote ‘brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized’?” 

He prattled on, not paying attention to how Titus had taken to getting slobber all over his shoes. “No offence to her but she tripped over air and crashed into the poll in front of her. The clumsy behaviour caught your eye of all things? Are you sure you haven’t been abducted by aliens?” 

Damian glared, the red not receding from his face. He rounded on Drake. “Do a full background check on her, it is necessary for me to know everything about her if she were to be my partner.”

He paused, scowling. “Actually, I better do this myself. I need to know everything about her, it is better if you imbeciles stay as far away from her as possible. She does not need you all to monopolize her time.” 

He grabbed Titus’s leash from Grayson and headed in the direction of Le Grand Paris to do just that, leaving behind his shell-shocked brothers. 

Jason turned to his brothers, looking amused now that he had gotten over his shock. “So, who’s gonna tell him that stalking is not the right way to woo a girl?” 

[justjams2003]

Hiii! Super loved your recent work (fast pace) 🩷 I was really hooked and now it's one of my favorite Carlos fics here!

I was wondering if I could request a special part of it? Anything like their life with their kids, their life after carlos' retirement, or something domestic! Thank you 🫶🏻

Hi! I just want to apologize for making you wait for so long. I took a bit of a writing break after finishing Fast Pace. But I got inspired after Carlos won last weekend! Please enjoy:

Summary: Some domestic bliss as you and Carlos pick up your three eldest children after their first day of Grade 1 and kindergarten.

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Husband!Father!Carlos Sainz x Wife!Mother!Reader

Warnings: Carlos is aged up and is in this request now 41. Age difference. A cute happy family. Even still, manipulation, control, obsession. Carlos tampers with your birth control. Kissing. A very slight mention of alcohol.

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen @formulaal tjdjindahouse

Word count: 2k

Masterlist

The first year of marriage was amazing. You spent almost every hour with Carlos. Jumping from airplane to airplane, country to country. You were attached at the hip. The media either loved it or hated it...you actually didn’t know. At some point, a PR team took over your Instagram and it was rare for you to ever actually read the comments or news. Any information you’d receive would come from Carlos and his team, after all, they’re all you really can trust.  

 That was, of course, until, mysteriously, your birth control pills stopped working. It feels like so long ago, the day Carlos picked you up in his arms, celebrating the news of a child. Now, you wait outside the school gates, seven years later, with a much older Carlos but just as excited. His eyes now crinkle up and he has a few grey steaks at the temples of his hair. But he’s not any less handsome.  

Especially when his big strong arms holds your daughter in his arms. Your little girl sits perched on his hip. The only other girl in his life, besides you. She looks so much like him. Dark toughs of hair that you’ve combed this morning with the same wavy texture as his hair. Her big brown eyes gleam up with such love at him.  

And at the same time, he carries your son in his car seat with the other arm. He’s sleeping soundly, his dummy bobbing up and down as he suckles in his sleep. You’re so glad Carlos is here to help. You were sad three years ago when he decided to retire at the end of the season. But now, you’re so grateful. You don’t think you could do this with him on the other side of the world.  

You feel like you’ve been pregnant forever now. Totally accidently five months after giving birth, now you’re 2 months pregnant again. You groan, everything hurts. Your breasts are engorged from breastfeeding and now being pregnant again. You’ve got constant heartburn and nausea. Your hair has thinned and your nails feel brittle. And yet, including all that, Carlos still believes wholeheartedly that you are the most gorgeous girl in the whole world.  

Carlos steps closer to you and places a kiss on your temples. “¿Cómo te sientes, mi amor?” When was the last time that you spoke English? You can’t really remember, because now Spanish also sounds like English. “Tired, mostly, I’ve missed the boys all day, it feels so strange without them home.” He chuckles and nods, “It’s strange for the house to be quiet... You think everything went well?”  

You smile and turn to the gates, you know Carlos is worried his children might be bullied or used for his name. That they won’t be able to make proper friends, that all the kids would just use them to get into the celebrity world. You had a meeting with the twins and Junior’s schools to handle this with grace.  

You can feel the other parents whisper, talking with each other. You feel someone tap your shoulder. You turn, it’s a woman who looks to be your age, 31. Where has the time gone? She smiles and speaks in Spanish, like everyone else where you live. “Is this your first time?” She asks with a kind smile. You return the expression, “No, not at kindergarten. But it’s still as nerve wracking.”  

She laughs with you as you begin your small talk. “But, after this we have to pick up our son at first grade, which makes our stomachs turn.” You laugh and lightly graze Carlos’ arm to show who ‘we’ are. “Is this your husband?” She asks and Carlos nods. “Hi, I’m Carlos. I would shake your hand but my hands are a little full.” He says, referring to the children in his hands. He refuses to let you carry anything while pregnant.  

“And I’m Y/N.” You shake her hand and she also introduces herself. Then your ear catches the sound of excited children screaming as the first classroom door opens. Your head snaps to the noise and then you see the teacher you had met with walking to the gate with a trail of kids behind her.  

You can see your twin boys anxiously scanning the parents trying to find you. And when the eldest of the two do see you, he grabs his brother’s arm and quickly runs over. “Mama! Papa!” They yell and excitedly run over into your arms. They wrap their arms around you, as you bend down and hug them close.  

“Hello, my loves, how was it?” You ask, combing the hair out of their eyes. They look a lot more like you than the other kids. “It was fun, but missed you mama.” Dario, the youngest of the two says. Your girl babbles and makes grabbing hands at Antonio, the oldest of the twins. “Papa, wanna hold sis.” Antonio says, Carlos smiles and puts Bianca down on her little feet. Your kids hug each other, Carlos has raised his sons to have the same protectiveness as he has over their mother and sister.  

“Come on, hold my hand.” You say taking each of their hands in your own. Carlos crosses the road first and then you. He opens the car door for you. It’s almost ironic for this retired championship formula one driver to now be the one driving a mini-van. It is his fault, he just can’t keep his hands off his wife. Carlos wouldn’t have it any other way.  

He buckles each of the kids into their car seat. The twins next to each other in the back and the two youngest in the front. Your youngest, seven month old is the best behaved. He sleeps in his car seat, that is until the twins start arguing, like always. Who had the best lunchbox, who is tallest, who mom and dad like most. Even though, you made sure they had the same lunchbox, they’re twins and thus the same height and like all parents, you don’t have a favourite.  

“Oi! Stop arguing, you’ll wake up your brother.” Carlos commands, his tongue moving fast in his home language. It still gets you all warm when he speaks Spanish. “Sorry, papa,” they say in unison. You just sigh and shake your head. “Papa?” Your daughter, Bianca calls out. “Yes, my princess?” Carlos replies. “Ice-cream?” The little girl asks, your heart melts and you’re certain that your husband is also a puddle. “After we pick up Junior, we’ll go out for ice-cream.”  

Your kids scream in excitement, causing your baby to start whimpering and then soon crying. “Ai, mi amour.” Carlos sighs and shakes his head, his eyes meet yours in the rear-view mirror while you sit next to your youngest children. You slightly lean over your seat and give him a kiss on his greying temples. “It’s okay, my love.”  

You’ve got Raúl, your youngest, strapped into your sling. Bianca sits high on Carlos’ shoulders, daddy’s little girl. Her fingers gripped into his salt and pepper hair. You can’t help but reach up and untangle her fingers. “My love, when did you start going grey?” You ask Carlos, staring into his warm brown eyes. He just laughs and shakes his head.  

“Must you point it out? I feel so old compared to the other parents...” He mutters, the other parents are around your age, some even younger. “I like it though...a silver fox.” He once again laughs and sighs. “No, mi amor.” You grin wildly at his reaction. “41 Isn’t that old...” He mumbles and again you just smirk. “I mean, Alonso was still racing at 41...” 

That really does get him, he bursts out laughing. “Yeah, you’re not wrong...” Then you feel Dario tug on your hand. “Look, Mama!” You see kids, with backpacks looking far too big for their tiny bodies, come pouring out of classroom. Then your eldest son, you can’t help but smile seeing he’s chatting with other kids. And then his big brown eyes look up and see Carlos, he begins running.  

The little boy runs up and hugs Carlos around the legs. Your twins greet their oldest brother. Bianca waves down to her brother from above. Junior gleams up, you remember when you gave birth to Bianca, Junior wanted to do everything for her. He’d carry her around every chance he got.  

“Come, papa said we can have ice-cream.” You tell Junior after he hugs you. “Really?” He asks, his eyes beaming up. Carlos winks and then nods.  

Ding! Your phone has a notification. You grab your phone on the nightstand. “Who is it?” Carlos asks, coming out of the shower. All five of your kids are fast asleep. You read the text. “It’s Alex.” She and Charles had married 3 years ago, no kids yet. “What does she say?” Carlos asks, lying down in the bed next to you, taking your phone and reading the text.  

“Hey Y/N, we miss you, why don’t we go out and party tonight? Leave the kids with Carlos.” She texted in the group chat, and Kika added. “We haven’t seen you in like years now that Carlos isn’t racing anymore.” Carlos just laughs at their antics. He hands your phone back to you. “Do you want to go?” He asks, raising his brow.  

When was the last time you went out alone? When was the last time that you weren’t with Carlos? Since he retired...there hasn’t really been a second alone? It would be kind of nice, to talk about something other than the kids... “I’d prefer if you didn’t...” Carlos mutters, he crawls down to your stomach. He gently lifts your pyjama short and kisses your stomach. “Pregnant and all...”  

You just smile, combing your fingers through his salt and pepper hair. You pick up your phone and text your friends in the groupchat. “Sorry, girls, can’t have alcohol...🙈” You get a quick reply back. “Again?!” “Didn’t you like just give birth???” Your cheeks go red at their comments. You feel the urge to send them a photo of Carlos kissing your stomach, but don’t. You do, however, take a photo, saving it for later and then put the phone down.  

“I hope it’s another girl.” He mutters, placing small kisses on your stomach. You can’t help but smirk. “I hope it’s the last one.” You mutter, playing with his hair. He pouts, placing his chin gently on your stomach. “Why? You look so fucking good pregnant.” He says, lust in his gaze. You just laugh and roll your eyes. “To you, maybe. But I’m telling you, my love, I don’t want to have to drive a limousine to their schools.”  

You can see him think for a moment. “You mean it? No more kids?” He says, jutting out his bottom lip and making his eyes gleam. It’s hard to say no to him, but you stay firm, for once in your life. You actually wanted to stop after the twins. Not that you love Bianca and Raúl any less.  

But this number six is the most difficult so far. You’re taking both pre-and-postnatals at the same time. “Yes, I mean it.” You say, stern. You’d like your body to be yours again...“Alright, I’ll get the snip. I don’t want you on those damn pills. I can’t fucking stand them, they’re unnatural.” He mutters, his jaw locking...  

Huh...Always thinking about your well-being...  

“You look so fucking good as a mom. Seeing how much they adore you. It’s hard to keep my hands off you.” He snarls, his kisses on your stomach becoming more sloppy. He trails up to your lips. Capturing your lips in his. So furious and desperate on your lips. “I love you, mi amor. You’re mine. Only mine.”  

Request are open.

[fxckin-polkadots]

how would the guys feel having a s/o who is hella strong? like STRONG STRONG, and can carry them bridle style or throwing them over their shoulder with no problem at all

Abner: if you ever threw him over your shoulder he might cry, but he feels safe around you, like he’s protected when you’re around

Kurt: challenges his s/o to an arm wrestling match all the time, always looses, he’s actually mildly impressed you’re stronger than him (well…more than mildly, he finds it very attractive) probably asks you for your work out routine (unless it’s your power to be extremely strong aha)

Murdoc: Thinks it’s hot, he makes you carry him like the princess he is. he’s watched you one hit some people and every time you do he falls more in love with you

Lonny: scared of your strength at first, but slowly starts to find comfort in it, whenever you pick him up he gets all flustered and fidgety, probably wishes he could be like that sometimes

Thomas: isn’t….. sure how to feel, but he is impressed, although intimidated, by your strength. definitely doesn’t like being picked up though

Bob: after warming up to you he feels like you’d protect him from anything (and you do), he likes it when you pick him up/hold him because you make him feel secure and safe, like no one can hurt him because you’re the strongest person he knows. In a maybe kid like way your the strongest person in the world to him.

Piter: he won’t admit that he likes it, but he does like it when you show of your strength, the more barbaric the better, though he does make you carry him bridal style if he’s tired

Johnson: arm wrestles you, sparring matches etc, he basically just wants to one day be as strong as you, he won’t admit it but admires you, you can take down rival gang members/people who pick fights so easily without breaking a sweat which is kinda hot to him

[muffindaddystyles]

okay but imagine waking up next to soft!dom harry in the middle of the night and snuggling closer to him because you had a nightmare or you just couldn’t get to sleep well and he just kisses you, whispers sweet nothings and holds your hand as he helps you back to sleep

SCAREDY KITTEN Y/N, CLINGY AND MELTING OVER HARRY ALWAYS GONNA BE MY FAVE

Wednesday’s are most tiring for Harry. Shit tons of paperwork, shipping and unloading and then being a visible leader at the workplace to make sure the gang runs efficiently.

Weary and knotty in his muscles Harry dragged himself all the way to the threshold of his house to his room, his comfort space for many reasons— it smells incredibly sweet of his lovie, it’s cosy and the blankets are always toasty with her warmth and the room temperatures's the perfect chilly against your skin, akin to whole house.

“Hi Mushy,” He greets her coarsely, ducking down and a bit to the left of her gaze when she busily mumbles a ‘hi!’ Back with her head stuffed into her books, crossed legs on the chunky silken duvet and blankets.

“No kisses, pretty?” He asks, patting her head gently and she looks up at him. Equally tuckered out and bushed, she’s been trying to solve this stupid stupid algebra and it seems like algebra solved her and kicked her in arse telling her to do this nonsense with someone other.

“Sorry.” She sighs, scurrying to her knees and lifts her bum to plant a soft kiss to his lips instead ends up smashing a sloppy peck to his chin making both of them giggle.

She really thought she was about to get a good sleep, after having a tummy full dinner, doing her night routine with Harry and cleaning the little mess around her room because it keeps on irking her the whole night of otherwise --- she really hoped.

Her hopes were crushed brutally with a bulldozer when Harry knocked out the moment his floppy head hit the pillows, his embrace's homey and his breath melting into her skin makes her wants to learn the pattern mentally and sleep to it— she did.

She almost lulled herself into a light slumber when their whole house shook, the windows squeaked and their bedhead banged against the wall ever loudly from the force of her jolt due to the peal of unexpected thunder.

Y/N hates thunderstorms. It hyperventilates her badly and she’s never able to sleep during them, she might ends up crying or trying to make a clever run god knows where. She’s a science student still her silly and scared brain convinces her that the lightening will fall on them and burn them to ashes.

For a moment it didn’t happen again, replaced with calming patter patter of rain and she was glad she hasn’t woken Harry up. Who’s snoring softly into his pillow, his arms lax around her body and his facial features placid and soft.

There’s an ominous roar again in the sky and this time it fucks her up properly. She whimpers like a puppy shrinking into Harry’s side, eyes bolted shut as she feels her heart pumping in her ears – thumping eerily against Harry’s chest and she gasps, her knees knocking against Harry’s lower abdomen when there’s furious amount of non-stop thundering. Quite funnily he only mutters something incoherent and tucks her further into him.

Y/N’s sleepy, loggy and her scary surroundings doesn’t makes any sense to her and she doesn’t want to wake up Harry.

She’s feeling awfully, small and little and skimpy.

Terrified her eyes blows away when she sees the light-flashing outside scarily bright, “Daddy!” She cries out, latching her elbows around Harry’s neck and her thighs around his waist -- practically haggling the dude into a bendy doll.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy. . .” She mumbles unremittingly into his throat, her tears soaking the crew neck of his shirt -- tummy jolting against him and it stirs Harry, trying to take in his wear-bouts— knuckling the blurriness away from his eyes, he looks down at his lovie in haziness worried something bad happened because last he remembers she was good and about to drool over him. His warm palm gliding up her back, the fabric of her pyjama top bunching in his hold.

It doesn’t took him long to realize why his lovie’s so rucked up, clinging onto him like she depends on him for dear life when another wave of thunder-clapped and she was shoving herself into him with a frightened sob.

“Hey, hey . . Poppy. Daddy’s here. Not g'na let anything happen t’ya, sweet girl.” He whispers, cupping her face with both of his hands and tilts it up gently to look into her scared eyes, he sandwiches her shaky hands in-between his thighs and brings her impossibly closer to him – stroking his thumb over her wobbling wet bottom lip.

“We're gonna die!” She stutters a whiny sniffle hating that this awful thundering wouldn’t stop. Her outburst quirks Harry’s lips into a small smile, his heart oozing with overloaded infatuation for his love who’s just too innocent and cute for her own sake.

He gives her an eskimo kiss, pecking the corner of her salty lips then kissing her mouth tenderly and lovingly, “Said the same thing last time baby.” He calms her down. Rubbing her back, halting at the dip of her hip to massage the soft spot gently.

“Shh, shh, ‘s okay . . . I know it scares my darling so much, hate tha’, wouldn’t want my little’s poor heart to suffer this much would I?” He says groggily, tone coy and affectionate. He brushes the frays falling over her eyes out of shakiness, behind her ear and smooches a kiss to the side of her temple.

A surreal quietness blanketed them, her timid voice breaking through it and Harry smiles foppishly and lazily down at her hands still covering her ears. He tuts caringly when she blinks and glistening moisture collects under her eyebags.

“Sorry, didn’t wanna wake you,” She skootches impossibly closer into him, nuzzling her face in his strong healthy rising chest and he shakes his head petting her hair, “Would’ve been bummed if you didn’t,” He hugs her securely, and she relaxes taking a nourishing breather. Something so protective, safe and warm his huggies makes her feel.

Harry himself is the definition of tenderness, for her.

“Good?” He inquires, pressing his lips to where her neck and shoulder meet—- rubbing his hands up and down her arms smiling assuringly when Y/N hums in meekness.

His head perks up, brows shooting up nonchalantly when Y/N groans again upon all of it starting again and he coos, tightening his hug more compassionately screwing his mind too think of any idea to distract her.

“Would my baby like to keep me inside her, keep daddy warm?” He cuddles her chuckling softly when she buries her face in his neck, fisting the waistband of his joggers out of shyness and quick to bob her head timidly as Harry showers her in tiny sloppy wet fond kisses.

“Hmm. My soft little one.” He murmurs, hooking her panties away and spitting in his palm to squeeze it around his girth and gives himself few pumps before lubricating her with his own precum and eases carefully inside, not to hurt her.

Their temples falls against eachother, whimpers mingling as Harry bottoms out inside her. Balls snug against her bum, his eyes glassy as he nudges her playfully, “Now if we get stoned to death . . atleast it’d be with me cock inside ye',” His belly does a loopy loop upon earning a shy giggle from her (he takes pride in making his lovie laugh) and she moans breathily when he squishes her bum cheek grumbling disgruntled.

“Not letting them see yer bum thou,” She hiccups a giggle, feeling ticklish from all the raspberries he’s blowing at her skin and lapping the sensitive spot then, teasing it dry.

“You’re s’nice to me, I love you.”

“I love you too, my little one.”

Harry’s forever and always gonna be her comfort person.

[odetojeons]

What Tigers Do — Kwon Soonyoung

request: hi! i just came across your recent joshua imagine and omg IT WAS REALLY GOOD😭, would you be able to do a dom!hoshi with a breeding kink, please? already in love with your blog<3

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!hoshi, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, reader insert, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe everyone!), established hoshi x reader

a/n: accidently spent the night writing this lmfao, i was going to only start a bit but got too caught up on it :’) btw this goes from cute to sexy real quick to cute again, but anyways, i hope you like it!!

word count:  3329

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“Another plushie?” you ask as soon as Soonyoung enters inside the room, holding plastic bags in a hand and a tiger plushie in the other. He pretends he didn’t listen, but you continue anyways. “You know that you have a lot of those already, right? They are only collecting dust.”

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“Why not have more?” Soonyoung asks instead, like that would make all the sense.

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“Because,” you start, getting up from the sofa and walking across the living room until you’re right in front of your boyfriend. He towers over you easily, but the way he averts his eyes elsewhere makes him look so small. “You only ever use a few. The rest is sitting somewhere getting musty and you take forever to clean them.”

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Soonyoung pouts. You sigh; it means that he knows you’re right but he’s too stubborn to say it. Grabbing one of his hands, he stops unpacking the stuff he bought and looks at you.

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“You like tigers that much?” you question softly, and he nods a little. Soonyoung puts his plastic bags on the ground and makes a grab for your waist, pulling you up against him.

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The action is a bit sudden, although welcome, and you yelp in surprise when you lend against his chest. You look up and catch Soonyoung smiling down at you like you’re the most endearing thing he has ever seen.

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“Of course I do,” he tells, watching your face attentively. “You said I look like one.”

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You don’t know why his words make you blush, but you feel heat creeping up at your cheeks and tinting them a light shade of red. 

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“You don’t.”

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Soonyoung chuckles softly at your reaction.

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“So cute,” he comments before you rip that attitude out of him by tickling his sides. He contorts himself and laughs harder, head thrown back. “Stop it!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung somehow manages to catch one of your wrists, using that as leverage to push you against the entrance door. You groan slightly in pain when Soonyoung pins you down against the wood frame, his chest heaving and a bright, warm smile on his lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Not fair you’re bigger,” you mumble with a pout.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Should’ve eaten more rice if you wanted to be taller than me,” Soonyoung says, still trying to catch his breath, and fuck… he looks so handsome like this, with the collar of his shirt hanging low and exposing the beginning of his — very nice and very big — chest, blonde hair all over the place, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling like he holds all the galaxy in them and you feel like your heart will burst really soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You lick your lips nervously, watching Soonyoung’s eyes flicker to catch the movement, and try to move your hands free. But Soonyoung is not letting go, suddenly gripping your wrists harder. The action makes you gasp slightly, the quick change in the air leaving you breathless.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Admit you think I look like a tiger,” Soonyoung says, more like orders, and you whine at the intensity of his eyes. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“No,” comes your answer, and he frowns at you, body pressing against yours until you’re sandwiched between him and the door. “Gonna have to prove it to me first.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung’s eyes flash with something you’re very familiar with; it makes a burning heat pool at your lower stomach alarmingly fast and you want to close your legs. But Soonyoung is faster, steps completely into your personal space and crowds you tight against the door, the air growing heavier and thicker by the second. You bask in the warmness of him, his firm body so pressed into yours that you’re afraid he can feel your stuttering heartbeat.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The soft drag of your chest against his every time you inhale and exhale is also not helping at all, and you can’t help but slightly move your hips forward, trying to rub off on his thigh. Soonyoung catches your neediness easily, of course, and he smirks before his face gets closer and closer until his breath is mingling with yours.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Careful with what you wish,” Soonyoung says, voice low and teasing. He drags his lips into yours, so softly it has you whining and trying to kiss him. “Might as well end up eating you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You smirk back at him, biting at his lower lip before dragging your tongue to soothe the pain.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What makes you think I don’t want that?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung growls. It catches you off guard, it always does since it sounds downright animalistic, but you can’t dwell on the hotness of it too much because he’s kissing you without mercy. Soonyoung kisses you like a starved man, teeth clacking and tongue pressing against yours until you’re putty and breathless just for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You whine into the kiss, feels like Soonyoung’s drawn the breath right out of your lungs, your mind hazy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It only serves to rile him up, the kiss hungrier, messier, his tongue licking into your mouth as if you might disappear and fingers digging into your wrists harder in his desperation, before he let’s go of one of them to sneak a hand in your waist.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Now free, your digits desperately come up to take a fistful of his hair, in dire need of holding something, anything. Soonyoung groans at the feeling of your nails scratching his scalp, pulling your lower part closer so he could rut against your belly. You go easily into it, and Soonyoung’s half hard cock presses on your stomach, so hot it makes you whine. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” he curses, affected with the drag of his cock in your skin. Soonyoung circles his arm around you to lift you higher, almost taking you off of the ground as he thrust now against your clit.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It takes you off guard, the way he’s holding you with one arm alone — not your fault your boyfriend looks so hot when he’s all hot and bothered like this. The press against your sensitive cunt makes you moan and throw your head back, hearing him groan at the sight of your neck bared for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You laugh.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What’s so funny?” Soonyoung asks, hips canting up firmly and mouth glued to the exposed skin of your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fine, I will admit it,” your voice breaks into a moan when he fucks up just right. “You look like a tiger.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You pull his head back by the grip you have on his hair, looking him deep in the eyes.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“A tiger in heat.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You feel the growl before you even hear it, Soonyoung’s chest rumbling with the sheer intensity of it, eyes darkening and pupils blown wide with lust. His strong earthy smell — due to his cologne you love so much and are so familiar with — burns your lungs as if on cue. He looks drowned in such a dark desire you feel it to your bones; your brain begging, clawing at you to submit, submit, submit, because my boyfriend will make me feel so good. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah?” Soonyoung says, and you would find it funny how a simple word could make you shiver so hard, if it weren’t for how horny you are. He lets go of you completely, pressing a hand on your shoulder, and you know very well what he wants you to do.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your knees touch the ground, your face now centimeters apart from Soonyoung's fully hard cock. You take a moment to look at how it presses against the fabric of his jeans, mouth already salivating in need.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Would that make you my kitten, then?” Soonyoung asks, watching like a hawk when you moan, mouth pressing against the outline of his prominent cock. The pet name is something new, but you sure are keen on it already. “Oh, you like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung reaches down and opens the zipper of his jeans, unbuttoning his pants until he has enough space to pull his cock out. He holds on your chin, bringing your face closer and closer until he could press his manhood against your cheek. In your haze and impatience, you push more against his cock, trying to get it inside your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He laughs and you blush at your own desperation.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Such a dirty little kitten,” Soonyoung feeds you the fat head of his cock, and you moan in relief when you feel the familiar salty taste of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva. “Suck me off good and maybe I’ll give you a reward.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod a bit desperately, at least the best you can with your position, and relax your throat in order to take more of him inside. He’s big and his thickness doesn’t help, but you do your best to put as much as you can in your mouth, hand coming to jerk off the part that doesn’t fit there.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Mouth’s always so fucking good,” Soonyoung moans out, watching you bob your head on his cock. He kicks his hips a little, just to be a bit mean and watch tears gather in the corner of your eyes. “Do you know what tigers do when they’re in heat, hm, kitten?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, expecting it would convey your answer when you are too occupied sucking him off. Soonyoung groans at the vibration, hold tight and unforgiving in your hair.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“They breed their mates,” he says and holy fuck, you felt a shiver rocking all over your body, throat convulsing when you try to take him further than you can. You pull out, coughing a little, but take him back inside as soon as you catch your breath. “Would you like that? Be stuffed full of cum until it’s oozing out of your hole.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s this unbearable urge to come that has you reaching your clit and rubbing at it furiously, by the same time that Soonyoung impulses his hips forward and fucks your mouth relentlessly for a few times.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Stop,” he tells you, and you moan in frustration, especially when he pulls out of your mouth and jerks himself off in front of you. Not fair.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“A-are you gonna cum on my face?” you question instead, blinking at him in hopes he says yes, but he only smirks.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“No,” Soonyoung answers simply, grabbing your arm and pulling you up. He holds you tight, which you’re thankful for because your legs feel jittery. Then, he smooths a hand in your belly. “Rather put my cum in here.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan at his lewd remark.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck, you’re so dirty—” your sentence gets cut off in the middle with your own little yelp of surprise when he holds the back of your thighs and lifts you off of the ground, your legs circling around his waist so you don’t fall. “Soonyoung—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna breed you like you deserve,” Soonyoung says, voice rough, and you hold him tighter when you realize he’s taking you to the bedroom.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He throws you on the bed, your body bouncing on the soft mattress as you watch Soonyoung take his clothes off. You never get tired of seeing him and his dancer-like body, especially on this kind of occasion, because his chest looks sinful when it’s flushed red and sweaty. Your eyes soon fall downwards though, looking at his hard, leaking cock. It’s such a pretty cock, a beautiful shade of pink and it almost doesn’t have veins.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung notices your hunger and laughs softly, getting in the bed with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Like my cock that much you can’t even stop staring at it?” he teases, pressing against your clit. Your cheeks heat up with shame and arousal, Soonyoung’s hand creeping up your body and going inside your shirt — technically, his shirt, which you borrowed from his closet, and you know that’s the only reason why you’re still not naked. “Hmm, love it when you use my clothes.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He sighs against your throat when he cants his cock up against your clothed cunt.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Want you to smell only like me,” Soonyoung admits, kissing down your neck. He pulls your shirt up until it’s above your chest, so he can suck one of your nipples into his mouth. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yours—” you breathe out, a whine escaping your lips when Soonyoung sucks a hickey right above your left breast. “All yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He groans, too desperate to care when he accidentally rips your panties in the process of taking them off. You would complain, but the protest dies in your throat when Soonyoung sucks a finger into his mouth and rubs against your entrance, mumbling something among the lines of “fucking drenched”. He pushes it past the ring of muscles just slightly, knows you could take it easily since you’ve fucked in the morning, yours and Soonyoung’s sex drive shooting through roof lately.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung shifts, mouth working it’s way down your stomach, tasting the cloying sweetness of your skin as he licks and bites at it. He wants to cover you with marks and the thought has you squirming underneath him, moaning when he adds another finger.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“G-give me more, come on,” you say, impatient to have him inside already.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So impatient,” Soonyoung tsks, grabbing your jaw tight. “That’s not how you ask.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck, p-please, ah—” your sentence breaks into a moan when you feel another finger prodding against your entrance, squirming when Soonyoung’s hand works furiously inside you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Electricity runs up your spine when the pad of his finger hits just right in your sweet spot, your body jolting upward on the bed and head falling back in pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“S-Soonyoungie,” you whine, hands fisting into the sheets. “Stop t-teasing.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I don’t know if you deserve that, kitten,” he hums instead, pressing persistently against your sweet spot. “Haven’t heard you begging for my cum yet.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Soonyoung,” you’re nearly in tears, little cries muffled when you bite on your lip, and it’s so good but you just want his cock. “Please, Soonyoungie. Want— Want it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Want what?” Soonyoung asks, unfazed with your pleading. He wants to hear the exact words coming out of your mouth. “Tell me, kitten, come on.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-want,” you try to focus your eyes on him, and you notice he’s looking at you like he’s ready to pounce on you. “Want your cum.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung hums, pleased.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Breed me, please,” you squeeze around his fingers. “Breed me full of your cum.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shit, fuck,” it’s a haze from there; Soonyoung takes off your shirt, also almost ripping it in the process, and turns you over. He grips your hips and pulls your ass up, a hand pressing your face down into the pillow. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

For a moment you think you’re in for more teasing but the head of Soonyoung’s cock prods inside your entrance and knocks the breath right out of you. He kisses your nape as he pushes all the way in, cock throbbing inside of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So fucking hot and tight,” Soonyoung groans, grinding into your tight heat and you’re incapable of words, mind utterly blank, mouth hung open. He pulls back enough to fuck right back into you, sending your body foward in the bed with the sheer intensity of it. “Gonna fuck you so good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

——————————

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can only whine and whimper, face buried into the curve of his neck. It feels like you can’t even hold yourself up, Soonyoung supporting you by the grip he has on your ass, and he angles your body so he could fuck into you even deeper. It has you seeing stars, mind focused on the feeling of the drag of his cock inside you and the pleasant oversensitivity on your cunt.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You already came around four times and Soonyoung is a little behind with two times. You just know it’s something about his dancer stamina, it must be, with the way he still has the strength to hold you on his lap and fuck into you almost brutally. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Somewhere in the back of your mind you think he has never been this set on filling you up, if the lewd squelch of cum echoing through the room every time he fucks inside you is anything to go by. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Such a good fucking pussy, swallowing me up,” Soonyoung tells you, watches how your mouth gets more open at the comment, and leans to lick into it. His mind is fuzzy, can’t think of anything beyond putting his cum inside you. “Gonna breed you until you’re swelling with my cum, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung knows it’s unrealistic — also because you’re on the pill — but he can’t help but get lost in the thought. He fucks into you faster, groaning at how tight you feel, sloppy and wet and so so so good for Soonyoung.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes,” you reply intelligibly, don’t know what you’re saying yes for, but Soonyoung groans and bites on your neck, tongue soothing at it later.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah, you’re gonna take it, aren’t you?” he breathes out, voice ragged with effort and he’s right, you do love taking it. “Pretty little kitten.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You squeeze around Soonyoung’s cock in answer to the praise, enjoying the way his hips stutter at the feeling of your walls suffocating him. He slows down, fucks into you languidly, dragging his length in and out at a torturous pace. It makes you go livid, the burn of your release ebbing away. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re lucid enough to take in how fucking hot and ethereal he looks. The way his skin glistens with the dim light of the room, cheeks flushed red from all the effort and pupils blown wide with lust. Just looking at Soonyoung makes you want to squirm.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“S-so full,” you comment appreciatively, gasping with the way he grinds inside you. “Make me fuller, please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Soonyoung growls; he picks up the pace after that, fucking into your sharp and fast, the sweetness of your “ah, ah, ah!” falling in sync with the sound of his balls slapping your ass.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He presses your back down on the mattress, body completely engulfing yours and a hand firmly wrapped around your waist as he drills into you. You silently thank him for being such a great dancer because he’s hips are like magic, hitting your sweet spot dead on and it has the burn in your lower stomach building higher and higher.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna— gonna c-cum,” you cry out, body thrashing on the bed before your arms circles around his back and brings him impossibly close.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come on, kitten,” he tells, hips hammering inside you unforgivably. “Go ahead.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You sob as you come, back arching off of the bed and head thrown back. It’s less intensive than the others you had before but somehow it feels even better, cunt clenching around Soonyoung so hard he stills momentarily, rubbing at your sensitive clit to help you out with your orgasm. You forget where you are, chest heaving and mind numb, but you still want Soonyoung to come inside you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he seems to think the same because he fucks you right after your back melts against the bed again, thrusts erratic as he grips you so tight he knows it’s gonna be bruised the next day.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Soonyoung curses, desperate for release, and the oversensitivity leaves you crying. But you still manage to catch a breath to encourage him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Want your cum— oh,” your words get stuck when Soonyoung fucks inside you one more time before halting his hips. And then you feel it, another hot surge of cum filling you up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

They moan in unison, bodies falling limp on the bed as he grinds a few times through his orgasm. You wish you could keep it all inside you forever, fingers intertwining with Soonyoung’s.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The touch has him lifting his head from where it lays beside yours and looking at you with soft eyes.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he says with a tired, but fond smile. Soonyoung moves a little so he can give you a peck in the lips. “So much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You bask in the feeling of being in his arms. So warm, so inviting, so home. Kwon Soonyoung is your home.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you too.”

[violetmuses]

Safe Till Tomorrow - Flag (18+ MINORS DNI)

TITLE: “Safe Till Tomorrow ” (18+ MINORS DNI) || Rick Flag 

FANDOM: “Suicide Squad” Film Universe

CHARACTER: Rick Flag

PAIRING: Rick Flag + Female Reader 

MAIN STORYLINE: Seeing Colonel Rick Flag again leads to unexpected feelings… 

Author’s Note: Hey! Feedback would be greatly appreciated. Also, I’m crediting this idea to my bestie @lacontroller1991. Thanks so much for your continued support! As a warning, the One Shot includes SMUT content. (18+ Minors DNI) Adult themes, strong language, etc. - V. 💜

Main Masterlist 💜

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96   @mayhem24-7forever @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @bewitchedignition @maddu-oliveira @reveluving @hodgepodge-of-rog @ijustthinkrickflagisprettyneat @11thstreetvigilante

__________

2021

Tonight wasn’t supposed to end up like this. All you planned to do was blow off steam, enjoy a few drinks, and use some communal ride to safely go home. 

No, no. no. That main plan failed before you could order your next drink. 

You’re in the middle of laughing with your friends at one grouped table when one of them points near this bar’s entrance. 

“Shit.” Your pals whisper all around this table. Some of them nudge you almost frantically. You then squint both eyes in the name of confusion until a familiar silhouette passes through. 

Rick Flag. You never believed that he would show up here five years ago. Rumors swirled nowadays that he gave up military service and returned home, leaving you to deal with moments like these. 

A cowboy hat shields his eyes from dim lights that cast overhead. One bright yellow t-shirt looks far too big while clothing his broad chest. You even notice his surprisingly tattooed arms, remembering how often he sported windbreakers despite Louisiana heat. 

He looks good. In fact, he looks much better than last time, for damn sure. 

For the first time in years, he grins while acknowledging the bartender and orders his drink quickly, opting to sit alone. Many other patrons, tispy, or not want to probe him with questions, but he refuses almost everyone until you catch him. 

You excuse yourself from the table and ignore how your friend gape, shock that you’re even willing to see him. Not you and Rick fell off, but his deployments weren’t exactly great, either. 

“Hey,” You clear your throat, watching slyly as Rick takes sips of his own drink. His Adam’s Apple bobs and you try not to lose composure, already intrigued. 

“Oh, excuse me. I didn’t realize that somebody was…” Rick trails off his words after noticing you and almost freezes. He doesn’t even want to break the glass. 

“Hi,” You repeat yourself and smile. Underneath the wide brim of this cowboy hat, Rick smiles back, clearly happy. 

“Hi, Darling.” His smooth Southern drawl returns and you’re thankful to only have one drink in your system right now. 

Damn. I’ll remember that voice forever. You think to yourself. 

________

Of course, your original plans change. You said goodbye to friends and stayed with Rick, chatting into the night. 

Catching up leads to small talk. Small talk leads to memories. Spending many years apart no longer made a difference tonight. 

Just before closing, it’s not enough for both of you to sit across from each other anymore, and Rick knows it. He then offers to pay the bill and takes your hand, leading you out of this bar. 

***

He takes off that cowboy hat to reveal short blondish hair and kisses you in the nearest alley first, shadowed by darkness or dim street lights. All he wants to do is hold your face. He wants to your smile, 

Every single time that your lips meet his, safety is his only goal. His strong arms protect you from the dangers of the night. 

Even as shadows hide you both, he can’t risk taking you right here in public. There were too many people around. He knows better as well. You deserve more. You’ve always deserved more. 

_________

At the house, in his bedroom, he takes off your clothes first and strains within the center of his jeans as you lay naked on the bed without him. 

“Do you want me to take your clothes off too?” You tease, sitting up for just a moment and waiting for Rick to participate. 

“No. No, Ma’am.” Rick takes off his shirt and tosses it to the side, revealing this immaculate puzzle of inked tattoos and battlefield scars that run along his body. You almost gape, aroused even further. 

Flag then zips those jeans down next and you bite your lip. His bulge might be harder than anticipated this time. 

Before he can even think of taking off his underwear, Rick is smart enough to grab a condom first and you smile when the nightstand drawer opens or closes. 

“Are you ready? We can stop if you want.” Perching the bed with you, Rick smiles once more. looms over your body. He lines up with your soaked entrance after responsibly putting that condom on and you’ve wrapped both legs around his bare waist. 

“Yes, Rick.” You consent with a grin of your own, wanting nothing more but for him to rest inside you. 

“Okay.” Rick vows, staring into your eyes. Those hazels still pierce your soul right now. 

Flag then reaches out and grips your hand, sliding into your core moments later. You’re thankful as pillows soften the way your hair falls back. Your own brows furrow in the name of bliss, overtaken by this moment in the dark with him now. 

Even Rick nearly whimpers because of you. You clutch so tightly around his pulsing erection. He only held from taking you down at the bar as a gentleman. In and out. In and out. You cry, scream and pant, seemingly wanting him more and more 

“Shit! You cry out loud once more and break first, spilling for him as sweat trickles down your perfect body. You’ve always looked beautiful to him, but tonight was different. 

No hesitation. No anger. Just passion. 

Rick follows your climax soon after, holding your hand even tighter than before and as his own warmth soon shoots into the condom. 

His jaw slackens and those hazel eyes close right away because he can’t look at you again. Not yet. 

“Hey,” Rick opens both eyes and looks downward to check in with you, whispering by the shell of your ear or smoothing back tresses of your own hair. “It’s me. It’s me. Are you all right, Darling?” 

“Yeah. I’m okay.” You smile and look up towards him, still wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Rick’s heart can settle down, even if you might not feel the same by morning. 

[kimnjss]

finger painting | jjk

⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader // jungkook focus. ⇢ genre: smut. // pure unedited filth. ⇢ word count: 5.5K ⇢ theme: established relationships. ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: cursing, slight dirty talk, masturbation, nipple play, noona kink if you like squint, oral sex (m. receiving), cum shot, face shot, light dry humping, jungkook finds a new canvas, over the pants handjob, unprotected sex, slight possesion kink, fingering, morning breath just doesn’t exist, okay... ⇢ A/N: i am very tired. so sorry if there’s crazy mistakes, enjoy! let me know what you think x

It's hot underneath the blanket, the strong tattooed arm wrapped around your waist only adds to the heat. His nose is pressed gently into the side of your neck, soft snores tickling the back of your neck. Your back sticks to his bare chest bodies sweaty from the heat emitting from his heated blanket.

Falling asleep in Jungkook's arms was high up on your list of favorite things. He was always so warm and smelt nice. No matter how the two of you fell asleep, you'd be shifting into the spooning position, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

And any other day you'd be all for it, but this morning? When it felt like a sauna underneath these blankets and on top of that, all his body warmth was surrounding you. You couldn't help but shift away from his sticky, only to have his grip tighten around your waist – instantly pulling you against him.

“Koo..” You groan softly, hand reaching down to wrap around his wrist. “Are you awake?” He's instantly shifting closer to you, face pushed closer to your neck. “No...” The thickness of his morning voice has a smile pushing onto your lips.

Almost making you forget about the heat penetrating your skin. He's tugging you closer, incoherent murmurs leaving his lips as he shifts. Only settling once he's found a comfortable position, arm still wrapped around your waist. Not as tight so you're able to turn in his hold.

He's fallen back asleep, lips slightly parted soft snores passing through them. Much quieter than the loud snores that shake the room when he's in deep sleep. Lashes gently dusting over his cheekbones slightly pink from the pressure of sleep. He looks cute, which has your hands raising to grasp his sharp jawline.

Nose twitching from the feeling of your hands on his skin, but he doesn't stir other than that. Not even bothering to fight the urge to press light kisses to the tip of his nose, giggling softly at the way it scrunches. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, widening when he sees how close you are to his face. A sleepy grin stretching his lips.

“You don't want me to sleep?” A slight pout pushes your lips out, thumbs swiping across the apple's of his cheeks as you shake your head from side to side. “It's hot,” You complain and despite the way he nods in agreement – his wraps tighter around your waist, pulling your body into his. “And you look cute,” Sentence punctuated with another light press of your lips to his nose.

His eyes fluttered closed at the light touch of your lips, body seeming to relax into the warmth of the mattress. It's when your lips stray a little lower, just barely catching his upper lip is his body shifting into full alert. Thoughts of where he could take this moment if he played his cards right.

Soft lips are catching yours when as you lean in, his hand lifting to tangle his fingers in your hair holding your head to his. Jungkook kisses you slowly, eyes falling close as he tilts his head to get a better reach of your lips. Instantly, you're lost in him. In the feel of him, how he manages to make your heart flutter with such little effort.

It's not long before his kisses are becoming harsh, teeth tugging at your lip as he grips the top of the blanket. In one swift movement, he's rolling his body over yours while shoving the warm covers off of your bodies. Caged underneath him with an arm on either side of your head, he's pushing his tongue past your lips and into your mouth without a second of hesitance.

The softest of moans fall from his lips, dying on your tongue. Legs hitched up on either side of his waist, you can feel the push of his hips onto yours perfectly. And his body is reacting quickly to the friction, cock jumping at the slight brush of your lace-covered core. The thin material of his boxers starting to strain against his crotch as he pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth.

“Noona,” He moans quietly, an arm lowering from the side of your head, his hand slipping underneath his large t-shirt you threw on before climbing into his bed. Pleased to find your bare breast underneath the fabric, his large hand squeezing at the flesh.

You get a glimpse of his dazed expression when he pulls back from your lips, lust-filled eyes searching yours only for a moment before he's ducking his head back down. Sharp teeth graze over the clammy skin of your neck, sucking the salty skin into his mouth. His tongue rolls over the marks his teeth leave behind, hips forever rolling into you. A wet patch quickly forming between your legs.

“You smell so good, Noona.” He whines cutely.

It boggles your mind how this man could still manage to be cute, even right now. Moans slipping from his soft lips as he sucks hickeys into your neck, cock pressed firmly into your core just begging to tear through the lace; so you can feel him the right way.

There's no holding back the whimpers that fall from your lips, body squirming underneath him desperate to feel more. His teeth catch a sensitive spot on your neck, causing your hips to buck into his. “That feel good, Noona?” There's just something about the way he called you 'Noona', so soft and innocent while the things he was doing was anything but.

Breathless, your head is bobbing in a nod. My hanging open as forced breaths shake your chest. “F-feels good, Kookie. Keep going,” Fingers reaching to tangle in his hair, tugging his head into your neck, and he groans. Hips lifting to press his cock into you, settling into a steady rut against your core.

He always liked it when you played with his hair.

Jungkook lays there, humping against your covered pussy while marking up your neck. His desperate moans fill the boathouse, fingers pinching and tugging at your nipples underneath your shirt. Your legs are wrapped tight around his waist, holding his body to you so you're able to feel every inch of his shaft.

It all feels so good, and you can tell by the sudden uptake of his thrusts; it feels as good for him too. Right, when his eyes begin to roll, the movement of his hips becomes sloppy he's pulling back. Crazed eyes looking down at you, “I want you to suck my dick,” His hips are slowing into a stop, cutest of expressions morphing his features.

“Please, Noona.” He adds as if you'd deny a request like that. Jungkook had a beautiful cock, long and thick. Pretty veins wrapped around the length when it was hard. The tip a pretty pink, often glistening with either your saliva or his precum. No way would you turn out an opportunity to have that down your throat. “Okay, Kookie.” You're saying with a smile.

If he was any happier, he'd be punching the air with joy. Jungkook is quick with rolling off of you, placing a soft kiss to your lips before laying flat on the mattress. His tattooed hand reaching up to push his hair back on his head as you shift between his legs. You had felt it when he was grinding against you, could imagine the bulge that had formed in his boxers.

But seeing it? Fuck, seeing it was ten times better. Half hard when he had woken up with you in his arms, so it's no surprise the way his cock is fighting to break free from the mesh material.

You take your time with dragging the elastic band down his hips, marveling in the pretty patch of dark curls that are revealed with its descent. Always neatly shaven but never bare. Felt manly to keep a bit of hair down there and you couldn't help but agree. Teasing yourself, you slowly uncover his cock inch by inch. Loving the impatient pout that pushes at his lips.

His hand is lifting once his boxers are low enough, cock swinging upward and he's catching in his large hand. The single stroke against his shaft has his eyes rolling and your mouth watering. Quickly noticing your fascination with the movement of his hand, he's repeating the action eyes staying focused on your face.

Soon getting into it, head cocked back as his hand squeezes at the mushroom head. Soft cruses falling from his lips, hips bucking into his palm. Almost afraid that he's gonna burst before you have a chance to feel him in your mouth. But you can't take your eyes off him.

Jungkook's free hand reaches forward, tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Open, Noona.” He mumbles in the deepest of voices and your mouth is instantly falling open for him, eyes lifting to catch his dark gaze.

He's guiding his shaft past your lips with his hand, watching with hooded eyes as his thickness disappears into your warm mouth. A hiss of a moan falling from his lips when you're closing your mouth around him, hands lifting to grasp his thighs. “Oh, fuck!” He sighs, head falling back into the pillow.

Both of his hands reach up to push his hair back from his forehead, forcing himself to watch your mouth move on him. With your grip tightened around his thighs, you're easily able to swallow him down your throat. A breathy groan falling from his lips when your throat constricts at the intrusion. “Just like that, Noona. Take my cock,” His encouragement comes with a large hand tangling in your hair, tempted to push your head down further onto his length.

It's only a moment of contemplation before he's doing just that, hips lifting as he uses his grip to push your head down. Throat fluttering, a rough cock sounding from the end of it. Forcing your head to lift from his shaft, slobber, and precum keeping your mouth attached to him. He moans at the sight.

You're diving back in without a moment of hesitation, urging your throat to calm the fuck down, so you can swallow your boy the way he deserves. Jungkook takes for gripping your hair, much slower with the way he guides your mouth down his length. Hissing loudly when your nose is pressed into his pubic hair.

“Fuck, Noona. You look so pretty like this,” There's no helping the way your body flushes at the slight compliment. Tongue pushing out against him, forcing more of his shaft down your throat. Wanting to please him, hear him moan for you, compliment you. Hands gripping at his hips, lips wrapped tightly around him, your head slowly begins to move back and forth.

Sucking him down harshly, the sounds of his groans vibrating against the wall, sending pangs of arousal between your legs. Positive you're dripping through the fabric of your panties and the wetness your fingers find the moment their fit between your legs proves you right.

Easily finding your clit, your fingers rub gently against the sensitive bud while you suck him down. His eyes are quickly catching the movement of your hand, a drawn-out moan falling from his lips at the sight of your wet fingers rubbing into the soaked fabric. Cock twitching against your tongue, thick dribbles of precum sliding down your throat.

The hand he holds in your hair tightens, guiding the movement of your head with much force now. Hips rising to meet your face until he's full-on fucking his cock into your mouth. Setting his own pace, moving as if it's your pussy that he's buried in. And you let him, whimpered moans leaving your throat and hitting his cock. That only eggs him on.

Your fingers match the thrust of his hips, eyes rolled back imagining that it's his long fingers between your legs rather than yours. “Your mouth feels so good, Noona.” He's whining, lower belly constricting as his orgasm nears. The firsts of his cum mixed with your spit dribble out the corners of your mouth, and you're sure you look a mess with your teary eyes.

Jungkook thinks you look hot, though. Always thought you looked hot with his cock stuffed down your throat. The mere sight of you enough to push him over the edge. It's when he notices your legs begin to shake, eyes fluttering as your orgasm washes over you. The squelch of your fingers between your legs growing louder as your cum soaks your panties even further.

“Shit, shit, shit.” His movements are hurried, pulling his cock from your mouth. Frantic stroke of his hand over his shaft, tip aimed at your face and you hold your mouth open waiting. A long whine falls from his lips as the cum shoots from the tip of his cock, painting your cheeks and lips with streaks of white.

His lip caught between his teeth, brows furrowed, and cheeks hollowed. He looks so good over you, emptying his cock onto your face. Body tense from the power of the orgasm that racks through his body. You don't move, mouth wide open until his body is relaxing. Rigid breaths lifting his chest.

“Mmh, you're so perfect Noona.” He sighs, using his cock to smear his cum against your skin. So concentrated as if he was painting a pretty picture with his seed and you can't help the giggle that falls from your lips, tongue pushed out to swipe over him each time he's close.

Jungkook's two seconds from pushing his cock back into your mouth when the door of his room is being pushed open. Hoseok stepping in without a second thought, not even surprised to see his youngest member with his cock pressed against your cheek. “Go wash up to eat, Kook.” He speaks in nonchalant, hand reaching out to grasp the back of your neck.

Gently, he's tugging your face toward him, capturing your lips in a wet kiss. The taste of Jungkook heavy on your tongue but he doesn't seem to care. “Good morning, baby. You look pretty,” He's mumbling against your lips, a soft laugh falling from them.

Hoseok is lifting himself further onto the bed, deepening the kiss between you. And you're almost certain he's going to lay you down and have his way with you while his youngest watches. But he's pulling back after a moment, a small smile pushing onto his lips.

“Let's go get you washed up,” His arms are sweeping under your thighs, lifting your body from the bed. Jungkook is right behind him leaving the room, chatting along with his Hyung about what they're planning on doing today.

Head finding Hoseok's shoulder, you listen along to their plans. The smile never falling from your cum stained face.

“Are you guys just going to game all day?” Arm crossed over your chest, hip popped out as you stare at the three men huddled in front of the computer screen. Jin weighing in on Yoongi's skills, while Jimin plays quietly beside them.

You, Hoseok, and Taehyung are ready to go. Dressed and set to go pick up burgers, inviting the others at the forefront of Taehyung's mind.

“Let's just go ourselves,” Hoseok says with a nod of his head, realizing the other boys have no plans to get up from their spots in front of the computer. Taehyung nods quickly, arm snaking around your waist as the three of you make toward the cars.

Hoseok is slipping into the passenger's seat while you climb into the back, Taehyung taking the driver's seat beside him. A grin is sent to you through the rearview mirror, from Taehyung. Anyone else would've taken this as a cute innocent smile, but you sense the mischief behind it – as well as the conversation you had been having prior, you know it's anything but.

“So when you gonna start waking me up with blowjobs?” He speaks casually, foot stepping down on the gas as he drives forward.

Jungkook was definitely one to brag, the first thing out of his mouth when you were sitting down for lunch was how you had just got done sucking him off. Hobi, who had witnessed the aftermath of it was nudged to confirm his words.

It's not unusual, so the other members don't even bat an eye at their younger member's detailed description. Only half listening as they shovel food into their mouths. Taehyung hangs on to every word, though, even adding questions as the story goes on.

You're sat beside him, filled with pride as he groans about your ability to blow his mind. Marveling about how pretty you look with your mouth wrapped around his cock. The technique of the bob of your head.

“When you gonna start waking me up with head?” You counter, with a smirk.

Hoseok's head is perking up at your rebuttal, “It's the only right way to wake you up,” He says with a grin. And you're returning it. Almost every morning you've woken up in Hoseok's bed, you were waking up with his head between your legs. The type of morning call that you weren't rolling your eyes at... well you were but in the best way.

The car is skidding to a stop after a while, Taehyung hopping out after pushing it into park. He's quick to move to your door, tugging it open for you with a wide smile. He watches as you slide out, thanking him with a kiss on his cheek. And when you're a few steps in front of him, his arms are wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

Walking beside the two of you, Hoseok is slipping his hand in yours. Fingers laced together as the three of you walk down the trail admiring the pretty scenery around you. It's peaceful where you are, fresh air tickling your lungs as easy conversation flows between you.

There was something about being out in the open like this, with them. Such a feeling of healing, being able to talk and relax, and just enjoy yourself. The sound of Hoseok's laughter fills your ears, in response to something Taehyung has said – his proud grin taking over his features, happy to have had made his Hyung laugh. Not a single lull of awkwardness as your walk continues on, you and Tae plopping down in the meadow to smell the pretty flowers. Taking pictures with Hobi in front of the creative looking buildings. Until you're piling back into the car to get the burgers you had set out for in the first place.

Taehyung pays for the food, before driving off to find a quiet place for the three of you to eat. He's handing your food back to you once you're parked in a nice spot, sat in the trunk part of the car watching the scenery in front of you. Hoseok is leaned back in his arms, far enough into the trunk where you're able to sit between his legs. Taehyung beside you.

It's so easy with them, nice. Comfortable. The happiness in your heart grows with the more time that you spend with them.

You find Joon and Jungkook sat on the porch painting away when the three of you arrive. The dotted painting Joon started the night before closer to being finished, behind him Jungkook has started an unbelievable image of the mountains out behind you. Cheeks dusted pink as loud compliments come from Hoseok, followed by assured praise from Taehyung and Namjoon.

They're joking around and laughing with each other but your eyes are trained on Jungkook, watching as he paints away with this sexy look of concentration on his face. He always gets like that when he's focused, his mindset on one task, careful to meet the perfect outcome he's planned.

It's undeniably attractive and you're all but drooling watching him work. His head rolls, sweeping the growing strands of hair out of his eyes. In the movement, he's catching your gaze, instantly reading the look in your eyes. But he doesn't say anything, aside from the little smirk that takes over his features, he acts as if he hasn't noticed.

Turning his focus back onto his painting.

You stand there watching him as Taehyung moves to stack the beanbag chairs, calling Hobi over to show him his new style of art. Joon heading over to check out what they're laughing about, quickly joining in on their laughter.

“You having fun eye-fucking me, Noona?” He doesn't even lift his gaze from the painting, just continues perfecting the reflection of the mountain in the water. Despite the confident sexy drawl, there's a light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

Obviously feeling some type of way with your undivided attention. You're moving to stand a bit closer to him, gentle fingers twirling his freshly washed hair. “You look sexy when you paint,” You're cooing, sure to scrape your fingers against his scalp the way he likes.

All at once, his back is straightening, eyes blinking before he's setting the brush down onto the palette. “Think I'm gonna take a break, do something else.” With the way his eyes drag over your body, teeth nibbling at his lower lip, you're quickly putting together exactly what else he wants to do.

He's standing to his feet with a slight huff, bending forward to pick the paints he had been using off of the floor. Silently, you follow him into the kitchen. Attempting to keep up with his hasty steps, eager to clean his mess so he can have his way with you. You watch as he turns the water on, your bum sat up on the counter; as Jungkook starts shaking the paint from his brushes in the sink.

The sleeves of his hoodie are rolled up, revealing the dark ink that decorates his milky skin. Disappearing underneath the fabric, but you know just how far the markings go. Somehow grown addicted to adding more, always rushing excitedly to show you the new tattoo on his skin.

Without thinking, you're reaching your hand out, tracing the large lines on his arm. Dark eyes flicker down to your finger on his skin, watch the way your nail traces over his tattoo. It was no secret between the two of you how much you liked them, nearly found every excuse to touch them, kiss them, lick them.

Not that he was complaining.

Your fingers are warm against his skin, soft. And he enjoys the way they feel, shamelessly allowing the image of them wrapped around his cock enter his mind. The blowjob you had given him this morning still fresh as he could still see the streaks of cum dirtying your face.

And the look on your face right now? As if you were physically forcing yourself from jumping him right now. How turned on you were just from watching him paint? Unless you were thinking about something else?

You were. Scenarios gone crazy in your mind about the two of you together. As if you couldn't reach over and make all of your fantasies a reality. There was just something about Jungkook that always had your mind reeling. And because he could read you like an open book, he doesn't hesitate to move from in front of the sink so he's now standing in front of you.

Stood in between your legs, fingers covered in the green and yellow paint he had been washing off, making fingerprints into your bare thighs as he tugs you closer. “What are you thinking about, Noona?” There's tease in his voice, could guess what dirty thoughts are running through your mind.

You play coy, though. Legs easily wrapping around his waist, pulling his body against yours. Arms lifting to wrap around his neck. “Oh, nothing special...” The tips of his fingers dance over your thighs, painting streaks against your skin. The paint is cool against your warm skin, the colors shining underneath the bright kitchen light.

“Yeah? You weren't thinking about how good I could fuck you right now?” Much closer now, his words mumbled into your ear. And he doesn't have to pull back to see your eyes flutter, knows exactly the effect his words have on you.

His teeth catch your lobe as your hips press into his, flinching away at the intense friction only to press further into him moments after. “Should I fuck you right here, Noona? Let everyone see how well you take my cock?” Despite the twitch of his cock at the mention and the frantic nod of your head, he maintains the nonchalance.

Fingers drawing faint hearts into your thighs, seem to be paying a lot more attention to his work than to the movement of your hips. Suddenly, pressing into you, reaching forward to dip his fingers into the paint he hadn't quite finished cleaning up. The yellow color bright on his finger and he takes his time to draw the hooked letter at the top of your thigh.

The J is large and clear, much like the K he's painting on the other side. Claiming you as his with each stroke of his painted fingers. The movement of your hips doesn't let up, causing him to lift his palm onto your waist to keep you still. Determined to get the lettering just perfect, before he's pulling his hand back.

“My Noona.” He's mumbling to himself more than anything, head dipping down to bury in the crook of your neck. The litter of bruises he left this morning meet his greedy eyes, only resulting in a grin that pushes on his lips. Proud of himself. And he sucks an unmarked bit of skin, determined to cover you with him.

A chorus of moans slip through your lips, eyes fluttering as his mouth works on your skin. The fistful of his shirt that you had clutched falling as your fingers drag down the front of his body, not stopping until you're meeting the crotch of his pants. His entire body flinches when you're cupping him through the material, hissed swears vibrating against your neck.

You smirk, pleased to see you have the same effect on him he did you. Squeezing him in your palm, you enjoy the tiny whines that fall from his lip. Stroking him slowly as he forces himself to keep focus on the painting he's creating on your neck. “Hm, you're getting so hard for Noona.”

“For Noona,” He repeats with a nod of his head, hips beginning to roll into the palm of your hand. All concentration went out of the window when your hand begins to match the movement of his hips. Palm closed to create a bit of tightness as he fucks himself into your palm, breathy moans hitting the wet skin of your neck.

His fingers press into your skin, leaving green and yellow marks that will more than likely bruise later. Tongue swiping over the skin of your neck as he pants, hips rotating into the palm of your hand. Quite literally putty in your hands, and he's almost embarrassed with how quick the twist in his stomach comes. Whining and ready to cum when he hadn't even touched you properly yet, unacceptable in his eyes.

Jungkook is able to muster up all the composure that he can find to slow his hips into a lazy thrust. Clearing his mind enough to slip his hand underneath the fabric of your biker shorts. He's groaning when he finds you're just as wet as he had thought, panties sticking to your pussy lips. Playing with him was always the easiest way to rile you up. Much like how you did this morning, his fingers are finding your clit through the fabric of your panties.

Rolling the little bundle of nerves between his fingers has your hips jolting, a gasped moan slipping. He smirks, speeding up the movement of his fingers as his eyes flutter. Jaw parting, your hand stills at his crotch, head tilted back as the pleasure he's giving you has your limbs growing heavy.

“How's that feel, Noona?” He mumbles softly, searching for reassurance. As if the twitch of your legs wasn't enough answer. “S-so good... don't stop,”

He does you one better, fingers slipping from your clit, lowering themselves further into your shorts. The tips of his fingers rub against your folds through the fabric, seemingly teasing himself before he's pushing your panties to the side. Little to warning is given before he's pushing two thick digits past your entrance, head rolling back as a loud groan bounces off the kitchen walls.

Your walls flutter and stretch around the intrusion, protesting when he pulls his fingers back. A scream of his name tickles his ears when he's quickly pushing his fingers in, has done this a thousand times he doesn't even have to try to brush against your most sensitive parts. It's become a sixth sense to him, pleasuring you.

“Always so wet for me,” Soft lips brush against the skin underneath your ear, fingers quickly dragging against your walls. There's no holding back the gasps that fill the room, fingers pressed into his shoulders, desperate to have him closer. “Who makes you this wet, Noona?”

His head lifts, eyes flickering to yours. At the same time, his fingers curl inside of you, pressing firmly into your soft spot. And you're crying out, hips angled in search of his fingers, “You,” Panting, your body moves in tandem with the thrusts of his fingers. Jungkook grins over you, thumb lifting to swirl around your wet clit.

“That's right, Noona. Only me.” He's proud of himself, you can tell just from the tone of his voice. His thumb circles over your clit quickly, fingers pushed deep inside you and you feel the snap of pleasure in your stomach. Hips bucking uncontrolled as squeals of his name fill the room. His fingers don't let up until your body is falling slack against the cabinets, aftershocks of your orgasm twitching your legs.

You feel the spill of your release when he's pulling his fingers from between your legs, a hurried kiss landing on your lips. Tongue licking over your lower lip before entering your mouth. Wet fingers curling over the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs, carelessly tossing them onto the kitchen floor.

Teeth and tongue clashing as you fumble to tug his shorts down his legs. Grinning against his mouth when his cock springs out, hard and nearly pulsing ready for you. He's just as turned on as you, eyes dazed and expression fucked out. Heavy breaths shaking his chest as his hand wraps around his shaft.

Eyes focused on the way he guides himself to your entrance, free hand wrapped around your thigh to lift it onto his hip. “Fuck,” He groans as he slowly sinks deeper inside of you.

Mind still foggy from your orgasm, the fullness of having him so deep inside feels ten times better. Legs secured around his waist, holding him close once he's bottoming out. It only takes a few draw backs of his hips for him to fall into a steady pace, fingers gripping the flesh of your ass, moving you against him.

“Mmh, Noona's pussy swallows me so well.” Jungkook whines face buried in the crook of your neck. His hips buck into you harshly, the sound of slapping skin and your cries the only thing to be heard in the room. “F-fuck, your cock feels so good, Kookie.” You gasp, fingers flexing at his waist, gripping his shirt in your fists.

Your back bounces against the wall, lashes flutter as another orgasm begins washing over you. His cock ramming into your gspot, pelvic bone brushing against your clit so perfectly. Like he was made for you. Walls tighten around his length, squeezing him tighter each time he pulls back.

That has his muscles pulled taut, needy groans falling from his lips as the movement of his hips begin to become sloppy. Cock rutting into your heat so deliciously, it makes you shudder, back arching and legs beginning to vibrate at his sides. “Gonna cum again, Noona?” He's panting, whiny moans filling your ear.

Head bobbing in a nod, a loud cry of his name falling from your lips as your orgasm washes over you. He's not far behind you, hips pistoning into you as he reaches his peak too. “Holy fuck,” He groans, hips becoming stiff. Large hands set on your hips, to hold your body in place.

Sharp teeth scrape against your skin as his cum fills you, the warmth of his cum pulling a loud moan from your lips. “So good, Kookie.” You praise, breathless. Boneless body falling against him. And he grins wide, pride filling his chest. Pleased with himself in making you feel this good.

Wet kisses land on your neck, arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you from the counter. Legs wrapped around his waist. “I wanna go cuddle with you,” You're mumbling spent from the two orgasms he just gave you.

A chuckle falls from his lips, as he nods. Shorts are forgotten in the kitchen as he effortlessly carries you toward the floating house. He's warm against you, and you cling to him as he walks.

Sleep slowly washing over you.

- seven days in the forest spent with your seven boyfriends while they film their upcoming reality tv show. there’s no telling what the eight of you will get into when the cameras are off.

⬷ masterlist ⤗

⇝ taglist: @randomkoalablog @smoljams @dee-ehn @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hehehehahahohohuhu @sw33tnight @butterflylion @withlovestudyblr @soulstaes @bangtansonyeondayyyum @samros95 @korkanswers @houseofarmanto​ @marifujioka @tae165 @uxwi @jinhitwhore @preciouschimine​ @yeontanie21​ @aa-ronpa​ @taefect94​ @lee-karliah​ @codeinebelle​ @mochibabycakes​ @diminieshoe​ @fuddyize​  @soloikeadates​ @0xmysticx0​ @bbyjoonies​ @amoreguk​ @tricethecharm​ @diminieshoe​ @jayyayyy17​ @softlyjins​ @bangtan-noona​ @fan-atic-blog​ @fuck-expectations-people​ @paradisetaemin​ @nyamjinnie​ @lilacdreams-00​ @vsugakookie0104​ @koostime​ @la-evforia​ @betysotelo18​ @chocobetterknot​ @simplysanha​ @delicategukkie​ @kookieswithtaeq​ @jeon-ggukkie​ @angjeon​ @bangtansbun​ @flamboyant-louie​ @elliemeetsevil​ @angiexyoung​ @stonyiscanon​ @strawberryforever25​ @mipetronella​ @rageyoudamnednerd​ @hellotherehoneybee​ @joonies-babyy​ @mypurplelamp​ @jikooksgirl19​ @sushi-date-ghost​ @bigimpression​ @kookiesjoonies​ @amour-quinn​ @diamonddia-mond​ @alterlovess​ @gemad08​ @daydreambrliever​ @acc3ssdenied​ @silentlyimpractical​ @bella-victoria002​ @ashleyjoyx​ @yoooonie​ @diamonddia-mond​ @btsbed​ @sungieshines​ @thia-aep​ @taeshuworld​ @hopiebabie​ @trynavibewhileicry​ @illwritetomorrow​ @kookoo-kachoo​ @prettxyliies​ @triviasjms​ @ratking101​ @elephantdoors​ @feel-like-gold​ @kelitt​ @itsponybeaches​ @alpaca1612​ @jeonkookiebangtan​ @rather-not-sayy​ @kimsouthjoon​ @beeeb05​ @dreamcatcherjiah​ @yoongiverse​ @aethrav​ @studyroy @miinoongi @fangirls94 @catsandstrawberries @jiminsreads @gee-nee @dreamingaboutyousworld @seokjinslittledumpling @meowmeowyoongles @loisje123 @honeyspillings @taehyungsmatcha @kuppyjiminie @kookitykook @rjsmochii @hobidyll @jrobmorebangtan @xxstrangegirlxxx @saymynamewithluv @kookunot @stvvcks @moments-of-melancholy @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​ @holaaaf​ @hobiismyhopeu​ @ayyyocee​ @purpleheartsfortae​ @cecedrake2217​ @joontoxicated​ @uppiespuppy​ @cjphoenix135​ @kookscrescent​ @oii-f-eli-x2​ @aestheticisbts​–fangirl @sweeneyblue1​ 

[ohbuckie]

Ooo 89 or 39 with college!bucky!

89. “Don’t ruin the sofa.”

wc: 1.7k (SORRY LOL)

warnings: college!bucky x fem!reader, smut, unprotected sex, exhibitionism if you squint

—

“Are you just gonna stare at me?”

His eyes rake up your body—over your hips, and your chest, and your face. “I mean...yeah.”

You kiss Bucky’s cheek and step into his apartment, setting your clutch down on the side table next to the couch. He closes the door behind you, presses himself against you, holds your waist gently in his large hands.

You’re wearing a long, red, satin dress, with matching strappy heels and diamond earrings that he gifted you for your last anniversary. It’s been three years now, since you hooked up in the backseat of his car on your first date. He’s wearing a collared button-up tucked into dress pants, ironed trimly, and his jacket is thrown over the back of the couch. His hair is slicked back neatly and his jaw shaved cleanly.

“We have to leave soon.” You warn him, placing your hand over his when his fingers grip you tightly.

“I won’t take long.”

“I don’t want to wrinkle my dress, Buck.” You whine, and he kisses the side of your neck. “Or your shirt.”

“They won’t wrinkle.”

“And if they do?”

“You’ll live, I think.”

You smile, giving up the annoyed act. He looks good, and smells good, and, if you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve been thinking about jumping his bones since you walked in.

“You’ll be quick?”

“You should know how quick I can be.” He smiles against you before taking your hand and pulling you to the couch.

“The guys aren’t home?” You ask, pulling up your dress and climbing onto his lap, holding his face in your hands and starting to kiss him.

He shakes his head and pulls away. “They went out for drinks.” He explains, gripping your ass and pushing it against his lap, where his steadily-hardening cock grows beneath you. “Will you suck me off?”

“You’re coming on awfully strong.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

You give him another kiss, shoving his chest playfully and standing from the couch, falling to your knees. Your dress falls around you, and you hope that the floor’s been cleaned recently.

He unbuckles his only nice belt and unzips his only nice pants, shoving them down his legs far enough to be able to spread his legs, at least a little bit. You lean over his lap, untucking his cock from his underwear, wrapping your hand around it.

It stands straight up, seven or eight inches, intimidatingly. He walked you through this the second time you ever had sex, gave you instructions on how to take as much as possible down your throat—breathe through your nose, relax your muscles, swallow around him when it gets to be too much. He practically fucked your face that night, with his back pressed against the stall of a public restroom while Steve celebrated his birthday in the bar on the other side of the door.

You lick up the vein on the underside and swirl your tongue around the tip, looking up at him. His eyes are already focused on you, and he brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. You push your head down, taking a little more than half of what he’s offering. Your hand works the shaft, your lips unable to reach down that far without making your eyes water and subsequently ruining your makeup.

He shifts his hips and the head of his cock touches the back of your throat. “Fuck,” He whimpers, “sorry.”

You hum in response, bobbing your head up and down. With every movement of your neck, your panties grow wetter, thinking about what he’s about to do to you. Salty precum covers your tongue, mixing with saliva, sliding down your throat. You hollow out your cheeks with your lips around his tip, licking broadly up the slit at the top. He moans and tries not to ruin your hair by grabbing at it, though it’s proving difficult.

“Okay, okay, come up here.”

He doesn’t have to say it twice. You pull your mouth off of him, leaving him a slobbery mess, before you stand and remove your lacy thong—you’d expected this tonight, just maybe not this early. Not that you’re complaining. You move to his lap again, bracing your hands against his shoulders and letting him kiss your throat, your collarbones, the top of your breasts.

“Don’t leave any marks, Buck.”

“But-”

“We’re going to a fancy restaurant. No marks.”

“Fine.” He huffs, reaching under your dress to hold his cock still. “Sit on it.”

Your stomach tingles in response and you follow the order immediately, lifting a leg and positioning yourself over his dick, slowly sinking onto him until he’s all the way in and your skin is pressed together.

You breathe out a moan and sit for a minute with him inside of you, his hands on your bare thighs, your laps covered by the flowing fabric of your dress. You start moving slowly, lifting your hips and easing them back down a few times before picking up your pace, capturing his lips with yours to muffle any noises you might make.

The way his large palms and long fingers hold your legs works as a silent order to do as he says, or as he wills you to do. He aids you in moving your hips, pulls you down harshly with every upraise, fingernails leaving crescent-shaped craters in your soft skin. Your knees push between the cushions at the back of the couch, thighs aching dully and ass grinding forward for more friction every time you make contact with his lap.

His tongue slithers into your mouth and you accept it with grace, extending your own to him. Your lipstick is surely covering the lower half of his face—upper lip, mouth, chin, cheeks—but you wouldn’t dare stop this to check. You snake your arms around his neck, pulling yourself as close to him as possible, moaning gently into his mouth, letting him swallow it.

You both miss the door opening, and only realize that there are other people in the room with you when Steve shouts and Sam sighs annoyedly.

“Really, guys?”

You stop your movements, but Bucky keeps going, encouraging you to do the same.

“Buck-” You begin to protest.

“Just give us a minute, guys.” He interrupts. “Won’t be long.”

“Bucky, this is-”

“Five minutes.” He says, frustrated.

The guys give up, waving a hand of dismissal and walking to the hallway to find their bedrooms. “Don’t ruin the sofa.”

He chuckles and kisses across your jaw, moving his hands underneath your ass before pulling away from you. “Can we switch?”

You nod, and he wastes no time in getting you on your back. He doesn’t even pull out when he flips you, cradling your head and pecking your lips sweetly. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels pressing into the back of his thighs while he thrusts into you.

“Fuck, Bucky.”

“Feels good?”

“Yeah.” You throw your head backwards, arching your back into him.

With this new angle, you can feel him filling you a lot more. He fits into you like a piece to a puzzle, and soon finds your favorite spot with the end of his cock. He slams into you, pushing the spot like it’s an “instant orgasm” button. He looks down at where your bodies meet, and admires the way that you’re welcoming him.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot.” He moans. “You take it so well.”

Your chest heaves while you try to hold onto sanity, but when he tells you to let go, you listen. You clamp your hand over your mouth, desperate to stay quiet so that you don’t bother the guys, who are only a couple of rooms away now.

“Close?” He asks, as if to tease you. You only nod, arching your back involuntarily. “Touch yourself for me.” He says lowly against your ear, so the guys can’t hear him.

You listen, of course, and slide your hand down your clothed chest and torso until it finds your clit, sensitive and ready to be paid attention to. You rub in circles, pressing with your finger until it makes you squirm and shake. It alerts Bucky of your impending orgasm, and he whispers sweet nothings to you to help you reach what you’re chasing.

You moan and clench and tremble when he tells you how good you feel, and how he wants nothing more than you fuck you full of his cum. “God, Bucky, fuck!”

“Too loud!” You hear from down the hall, and while you continue to manipulate your sensitive bud and your orgasm carries on, you moan loudly in response—purposefully, of course.

“I’m gonna cum.” Bucky warns.

“Don’t get it on my dress.” You remind him, and it only takes a couple more thrusts before he’s entirely inside of you, holding still—with the exception of a few encouraging rolls of his hips—and pumping you full of cum.

“S’gonna come out.” He breathes. “Onto your dress, probably.”

“Be careful, then.”

“I can’t exactly stay in here forever.”

You huff. “Be quick.”

“Alright, ready?”

You nod, and he pulls out, quickly tucking his cock back into his pants and not bothering to zip them while he makes a beeline to the kitchen for towels. He runs one under water and returns, wiping you down, pressing gentle kisses to your inner thighs and lower stomach—a mannerism that starkly contrasts what he was doing only a few minutes ago.

He turns his wrist and peers at the watch face, raising his eyebrows and holding his hand for you to take. You both fix your clothes—smoothing wrinkles, fastening buttons, straightening outfits.

You crouch to the floor to pick up your panties, but he beats you to it, and looks you in your eyes while he shoves them into his pocket.

“Bucky-”

“You’ll get them back later.” He presses his lips to yours hotly. “I promise.”

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Fun in the Stalls.

A/N: Hello, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓! Welcome to day 4 of Kinktober! This one I could find.

Day 4: Public Play/Sex

Pairing: Brennen Taylor x male reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1543

Summary: your boyfriend, Brennen, teased you during the ride to a restaurant. You get back at him, but he had something in store for you.

I hope you enjoy this! Sorry if it's bad! And sorry for any errors that are found!

If you like what I write, how about check out my masterlist?

Keys:

M/n: Male name

F/D: Favorite Dish

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

DISCLAIMER: I MEAN NO OFFENSE OR DISRESPECT TO ANY OF THESE CELEBRITIES. THIS IS JUST FICTION.

MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’ll ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZED ANY OF MY STORIES

TAGS: @gayhopefullove @softboy5393 @elliot-damon-2006

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

You were examining yourself in the mirror to see if you looked good. Caught up in your daze, you didn’t notice your hot Mexican boyfriend, Brennen Taylor, come up behind you. (Am I allowed to say that?)

Suddenly, you were engulfed by two strong, muscular arms. “AH!” you yelped, scared by the sudden touch. “Boo.” You playfully smacked Brennen’s bicep.

“You almost ready babe? You’ve been taking forever to get ready!” Brennen complained like a little kid. Removing his arms from your waist.

He was wearing a jean jacket with a black shirt underneath. Along with various rings that adorned his fingers. (The picture) Sexy as hell. “I don’t know if I look good!” you said, turning back to the mirror.

“The fuck you talking about? You always look amazing.” Brennen said, grabbing you and twirling you around. “Ravaging, even.” He growled as he moved his hands down your hips.

You giggled at him. “And you too are ravaging,” you said, tracing your finger up his chest, feeling the fabric of his shirt and his nice abs. He had amazing abs that made you drool.

“If you keep doing that baby boy, I may have to cancel the date,” Brennen growled in your ear, gripping your hips tighter.

It was a double date, Sam was bringing his girlfriend, Katrina. (Are they still together?)

You smirked at him before rubbing your ass against his crotch. You could feel his bulge growing, “Let’s get going.” you said, walking away from him and going to the front door.

Brennen was dumbfounded, now he had a noticeable boner. “Two can play this game,” he murmured before walking to the front door. And hiding his boner.

He walked outside to see you in the car already. You were on your phone scrolling through TikTok/Instagram/Snapchat/Facebook. He opens the door and gets in himself.

“Where is this restaurant again?” Brennen said with irritation in his voice, you didn’t take notice.

“It’s five blocks from here,” you say to him, getting off the app you were on and looking at the map on your phone.

He started the car and pulled out the driveway. Along the way, Brennen laid his hand on your inner thigh. His large hand makes you squirm, he knows it turns you on.

“T-turn… here.” you stuttered, trying to stay calm as Brennen’s hand began to move and tease you. Like how you did him.

Not long after, y’all arrived at the place. Brennen gets out first and opens the door for you. You giggled at him, but you also had to hide your bulge.

You both walked in and got a booth. You slid in first, followed by Brennen. You both ordered your drinks, and Brennen took this time to place hands on your inner thigh.

You squirm in your seat, and then he moves his hand into your pants and begins to play with your hard cock. “Ngh…” he smirked, pumping your cock.

The waiter came back with your drinks along with Sam’s and Katrina’s. He pumps it faster and you could feel yourself on the verge of cumming. You covered your mouth, trying not to let out a moan.

“May I take your order?” the waiter said, looking at you weirdly. You tried to keep quiet, but Brennen was making it harder.

“I-I’ll h-have… F/d.” you stuttered over your words. Brennen looked over and smirked before giving his order. “I’ll have the same as my lovely dear. Also, when those two come, be sure to come back.”

The waiter takes away your menus and goes back to the kitchen. He pumps your cock faster until you release it all over his hand.

He pulls his hand out from under the table and licks your cum off your finger. He smirked at you, but what he didn’t expect was for you to grab his fingers and lick your cum.

You took his fingers into your mouth, deepthroating them. Brennen was turned on by this. His big cock was growing in his pants. And you took notice of it.

You begin to massage his growing cock. Brennen threw his head back at the stimulation.

You looked around to make sure the coast was clear. When it was clear, you slipped under the table and began to remove his pants.

You put a finger onto your lips, telling him to stay quiet. You removed his boxers to be met with a large piece of meat.

Brennen’s cock was so big, so tasty. It had one big vein that led to the tip, big cum-filled balls, and a fat tip leaking with precum. You slowly stroke his aching cock that was just waiting to burst. And on top of that, it was girthy.

His eyes widen and look around to make sure no one was looking before looking back at you.

You smirked, stroking his cock faster before tracing your wet tongue along the prominent vein. His breathing was becoming more erratic, you took this opportunity to swallow him whole. Pushing his cock down your throat.

He covers his mouth to hold in his moans. You bobbed your head faster as you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth.

“Fuck… I’m cumming!” Brennen said, grabbing your head and pushing you down his cock.

You gagged as you felt his hot load rush down your throat. “Fuck babe,” Brennen said, breathing heavily. You zipped his pants up.

“Meet me in the bathroom for round two, daddy.” You said seductively into his ear. And you walked off to the bathroom. Brennen was hard again.

The thought of getting caught doing the dirty turned Brennen on. As he was about to get up, he heard a familiar voice.

“Hey bro! Where’s M/n?” It was Sam and he arrived with his girlfriend. “He went to the bathroom, I’m gonna go to get him,” Brennen said, getting up and heading to the restroom.

Brennen walked into the bathroom to see your hands on the wall, presenting your tight hole to him. What was hotter was that you were fingering yourself. Brennen walked towards you. You could hear him undo his pants and slip down his boxers.

His cock was hard again for round 2.

“Fuck… you look so hot, babe. Can’t wait to pound this boy pussy (sorry to those who find that uncomfortable). You can pull your fingers out, I’ll replace it with something much… bigger.” Brennen growled into your ear.

You whimpered at his dominance. You could feel his cock slap each of your cheeks individually. “Please… enter me,” you begged Brennen, wiggling your ass trying to entice him.

Brennen growled, his cock grew harder, aching to be inside. Then, you felt two large hands pulling your cheeks apart, revealing your hole to him.

You felt his fat cock heat the entrance of your ass. You whimpered, trying to push back, but Brennen held you in place. “Want me to pound this ass? Fill you to the brim with my cum?”

“Please… just fuck me-” With one thrust, Brennen pushed his cock all the way in. Your moan echoed in the quiet bathroom.

You and Brennen were fucking out in the open, not even going into a stall. He begins to thrust into you. His cock opened you up some much and hit the right places.

You were a moaning mess. “Fuck- no matter how many times I fuck the life out of you, you’re still tight!” Brennen groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure.

“Y-you’re cock is so big!” You moaned, eyes rolling back and tongue rolled out. You pushed back to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, pound that slut.” You both stopped what you were doing and looked at the entrance of the bathroom.

There was Sam, jerking off to the two of you fucking. “How about we give him a show?” Brennen said before you say anything.

Brennen turned you around to face Sam and thrust right back into you. The bathroom was filled with moans and groans.

“I-I’m gonna... c-cum soon!” You said, throwing your head back landing on Brennen’s shoulder.

“Me too! Fuck, you’re clenching around me! Milk my fucking cock slut!” Brennen growled, Sam could feel himself coming soon.

“I’M CUMMING!” Brennen yelled you could feel his hot cum feel you. At the same time, you and Sam came together.

“That was fun.”

THE END!

A/N: I hope this was good! Be prepared for day 5! Bye, my 🍓Little Strawberries!🍓

[corpseglider]

pairing .. corpse x girlfriend!reader (fem)

summary .. the time in which corpse really does propose

part one .. read here

the first sign.

“Now why exactly did you want to go to the farmer’s market?” You asked, eyebrows raised at your boyfriend’s beaming face. 

Corpse ran to the rose bushes, daisies, and baby’s breath—looking through each and every vendor’s selection. His eyes were sparkling with excitement at the sight of the various colors, his body shaking profusely.

You followed behind at a distance, giving Corpse the freedom to explore on his own. The market was overflowing with life. That life not necessarily being human life, but fresh plants and fruit.

Your pockets were drained quickly, all of the hard cash on you had disappeared into the hands of the kind vendors. Bags of homemade goods filled your arms, nearly falling over from how unbalanced you’d become.

“Oh, shit.” Corpse said, running up to you and taking a few packages into his own hands, giving you a little breath of relief. “You seem to be right at home here!”

He chuckled, his heart glowing in your company. The overall aura you gave off brought his life immense joy. You were the light in his darkness, the stability to his chaos.

The two of you now walked together, strolling between vendors and awing at the vast array of flowers. It was a peaceful moment, just the two of you together in a place that made you happy.

“Oh these are just beautiful!” You exclaimed, your eyes settling on a bouquet of small lilac alliums. The little blossoms were undeniably gorgeous, standing out amongst the others like stars in the vast night sky.

The little bouquet fit perfectly in your hands, complimenting your features nicely. Corpse took a mental picture in his brain, wanting to remember this moment showcasing the natural beauty that you possessed forever.

He studied the flowers, noticing the little petals and yellow bobs along with your beaming face. Without hesitation, Corpse pulled out his wallet, giving the vendor whatever price they were asking for.

“You’re the best, you know that right?” You pressed a soft kiss to Corpse’s cheek, loving how your boyfriend spoiled you. Gratitude was evident in your voice, the tone soft and thankful. “I love them.”

Corpse wrapped his arm around shoulder, hugging you to his side as you made your way towards your car. He kissed the top of your head gently before whispering in your ear.

“I love you.”

the second sign.

The house was silent, Corpse’s footsteps echoing slightly as he quietly shut the door to his gaming room. It was around four in the morning, he’d just finished a live stream, having stayed up all night to do so.

Exhaustion was all that was on his mind. He was itching to crawl into bed beside you and refill his energy. Just the thought of holding you in his arms was more meaningful than any dream he could possibly have.

Corpse tiptoed down the hallway, cringing as his phone began to ring. He frantically reached into his pockets, attempting to decline the call before realizing that it was Sean who’d been dialing him.

“Hey man.” He spoke in a low tone, doing his best to make as little noise as possible. It’d been a long week for you, and he didn’t want to disturb your sleep. “What’s up?”

Sean responded energetically, the time zone difference being evident between the two men’s attitudes. “Just calling to say what an amazing stream that was!” He exclaimed, his accent strong. “You really tricked us tonight!”

Corpse laughed, running a hand through his already unruly hair. “Yeah that was all luck.” He admitted, having no strategic meaning in any of his moves. “My lucky charm is home right now, that’s probably why I won.”

He could envision Sean nodding to his words, his friends being fully aware of how close his relationship with you was. “Y/N, yeah.” Sean answered, a little bit of a smirk on his voice. “How’re you guys doing?”

A smile rose on Corpse’s face, just the thought of you brought out his soft side. “We’re doing really really well, man.” Your boyfriend said, walking into your shared bedroom. “Thanks for asking.”

Sean sighed, most likely sitting back in his chair to get in a more comfortable position. “Of course, you guys seem really happy.” He paused for a moment, considering what he was going to say next.

“I was tagged under that comment you made on Instagram.” Corpse stopped breathing at his words, knowing exactly what he was referring to—but Sean continued on. “Was there any truth in that?”

The call was vacant, neither man speaking on the other’s behalf. Corpse took a deep breath, gazing at the girl who was fast asleep in their bed. “Definitely.” He breathed out, processing his words as he spoke.

“She makes me so happy, man. I just love her so much.” His voice was even quieter than before, Sean barely being able to comprehend what he was saying. “I don’t know what to do.”

Sean’s grin was so large it could be heard on the phone. He was so happy to hear that his close friend had found someone so perfect for him. “I think you know exactly what to do.”

With that, they bid their goodbyes, promising to talk again in a few hours. Corpse slipped into bed, finally realizing the steps he had to take in order to end up with the outcome you and him deserved. 

He pressed a kiss to your temple, wrapping his arms around you and closing his eyes. As sleep took over his senses, your’s were wide awake. Your face was flushed red, tears brimming your eyes.

You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the sound of Corpse openly talking about his love for you was too much to ignore. It was one thing to know that there was someone there for you—but to have him speak so highly about you to others?

That was love.

the third and final sign.

Corpse had been bouncing off the walls all day, his body overflowing with nerves. He’d been doing his best to act inconspicuous for the entire day, wanting to surprise you with his notion of a proposal.

The weight of the ring box felt like tons in his pocket, weighing him down as he walked with you towards the view point. His heart was racing unevenly, thumping in his chest like a metronome.

Constellations sparkled above you, the sky filled with stars and little specks of dust. It was a moment under the perfect view with the perfect man. Your perfect man.

You stood beside him, holding his hand in yours as you pointed out all of the constellations that you knew by memory. Corpse was silent, humming along to your words and listening intently.

Before you knew it, you felt his grip loosen, your arm dropping completely. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, wondering why he would leave you absent of his touch.

A gasp escaped your lips as you turned, facing him underneath the light of the moon. Corpse was down on one knee, holding up nothing but the ring box that had formerly been stashed in his pocket.

He pursed his lips into a smile, opening the box to you. “It’s no ring made of fresh flowers,” he admitted, watching your facial expressions like a hawk, “but I hope it’ll do.”

Your eyes settled on the ring, noticing the beautiful and intricate design. The band resembled stems, wrapping around like vines—while the jewel itself looked as if it was blooming out of a flower.

That flower being identical to the flowers he had bought you at the market, weeks before. 

Tears were now tripping down your face, your hands on his shoulders as you nodded enthusiastically, accepting his proposal with all of your heart. “Of course it’ll do!” You grabbed his cheeks, kissing him over and over again.

“You are perfect for me.” You rested your forehead against his, shivering as he slipped the ring onto your finger. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Corpse laughed, thanking everything for the fact that he was lucky enough to have someone such as yourself in his life. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 9 - FINALE)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: smut (oral f receiving), semi-public sex (in a parked car) angst, arguments, implied smut, sappiness, time skips, some alcohol consumption here and there, lots of talking about issues including bucky's ptsd, I really have no idea how to warn for this but IT’S THE END SO STRAP IN FOLKS

Since that night, it had been like a stand-off in a Western movie, none of you saying anything because you had no idea what to say. Whenever he tried to start the conversation, you brushed him off.

You took a cab home from the event. He slept in his own room for the first time in months.

Finally, suddenly, you were ready to talk about it nearly 30 hours later, knocking on the guest room door and entering to find Bucky on his bed, re-reading Flowers for Algernon. He sat up quickly and shut it, setting it aside. “Hey,” he greeted softly, hesitant like you were a deer in a clearing and he was extending a handful of grain in his palm.

“Hey,” you returned, already fighting back your emotions. “I think I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready to listen.”

“I just… I want to make sure that you understand this is a really big deal.”

He nodded again.

“I had to do a lot of damage control to prevent being banned from all HFPA events— that includes the Golden Globes, you know, I can’t exactly skip those just because my boyfriend went fucking nuts at a party.” And there was the anger again— you had tried to wait until you could be neutral about this but it barely lasted, mainly because you were still embarrassed about the way you’d handled yourself that night. “You’re lucky not many people saw; you’re lucky no reporters were there! Can you imagine if someone had a fucking picture of this? There were cameras everywhere, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” he defended. “I saw you with him and he was touching you and I just… I saw red.”

You sighed slowly. “That’s not a good thing. That’s really, really concerning.”

“I know, I agree— you’re right. I need…” he trailed off, taking a breath before starting over. “I need to work on that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I just… I can’t really be a part of that. You need to work on that on your own.”

He stood up instantly, almost looking… afraid? Terrified, really, and heartbroken. “On my own, like what? What does that mean?”

“It means that I think maybe you should go back to your own apartment for a while. I just… need to be alone for a bit.”

“You need to be alone?” he repeated. “Or you need to be away from me?’

“Both.”

His head fell into his hands instantly. "Please don't tell me I fucked this up," he whimpered. "Please don't tell me I ruined this."

"I— I don't know."

"Please, please, please," he sighed, just louder than a whisper, suddenly stepping forward, grabbing your hand and clutching it to his chest. "Look at me," he begged.

You did, hesitantly, fighting everything in you that wanted to cry (and not doing so good of a job at it).

"Please, I lo—"

"Don't," you grimaced. "Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"It doesn't matter!" you yelped, surprising both of you with your volume.

“Are we going to have a chance to talk about this again? Am I going to get a chance to make it up to you?”

“You don’t make it up to me, you fix it. And that takes time.”

He shook his head, looking shocked and confused and completely blindsided which made you feel sick to your stomach. “How long?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Am I not going to see you at all, for however long it takes?” he pressed.

“I… that’s sort of the idea.”

He shivered and pulled you into a hug. “Please don’t hate me forever,” he whispered against the top of your head.

“I don’t hate you,” you promised, doing your best not to hug him back even though all you wanted was to wrap yourself around him and feel safe in his arms again.

“Then don’t make me go,” he pleaded as he pulled back, clutching your face. “Let me stay and we can work through this together.”

“That’s not how this works,” you reminded him

“But I don’t know how to be without you,” he explained shakily.

“That’s not really my problem!” you yelped, and he turned away like he’d been slapped, dropping his hands from your face. A long, heavy silence fell between you as you watched him stand there, contemplating.

“If this is my last chance,” he finally spoke softly, barely breaking the silence, “to say everything I want to say…”

“It’s not,” you assured. “We’re going to talk about this again, but you need to go now.”

He nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow of nothing. When he looked at you again, you hated how much bluer his eyes looked when they were bloodshot and filled with tears. “Can I kiss you?”

You shook your head. He bit his lip and turned to walk away; you stared at your feet because you couldn’t watch him go.

You heard him grab his backpack, shoving a few things from the drawers into it; he set his key on the table, walked into the open hall, and as soon as you heard the front door open and shut you were plunged into solitude and silence. With a whimper, you crumpled to the floor and cried, the look of betrayal on his face burned into your mind.

It was obvious, to your horror, that he really hadn’t seen it coming; he hadn’t packed his things, or prepared in any way for the conversation going like that. He had been waiting for an olive branch and got a switch to the face instead. You didn’t know anything about working on relationships, repairing broken things… when something went wrong, all you knew how to do was bail.

You knew how to do a new take and say the line right this time. You knew how to take off your eyeliner and start over. You knew how to kick unsuspecting C-listers out of cars because you already got yours. But you didn’t know how to stay, and work, and frankly you were just too scared to try. Last time you tried to make it work, you got burned. And as much as a logical part of you knew that wasn’t Bucky’s fault or responsibility, your heart just couldn’t survive another relationship where you put everything into putting the pieces back together while the other person stood there and watched you just to pull them apart again.

It had to end at some point, right? It was you, it was him… and that’s just how these things go.

//

He knew it was too good to be true. He knew you were too good for him. Anybody with at least one eyeball and half a brain could see that. But still, he hadn’t been ready to let you go.

Being in his apartment felt like stopping in a ghost town; there might as well have been a tumbleweed rolling through the living room. It was beyond a bachelor pad: it was more like an unfinished work site, considering his ‘couch’ was cinderblocks and a few two-by-fours, and his bed was a mattress on the floor.

One toothbrush. No books. A half-empty shampoo bottle in the shower and some hard water stains he needed to scrub away at some point.

This place didn’t feel like a home, it barely felt like a livable space. It was a three-dimensional homage to how empty his life had been before you, and he realized that was only his own fault.

Then again, this was all his fault.

But still, he had let himself obsess over you, turn you into his whole world and it made him into somebody he didn’t want to be. He had been working so hard to keep you happy, inspired more than anything by his fear to lose you, that he’d forgotten to give you space and now here he was… giving you so much more space than he ever wanted to, or knew how to deal with.

But he wanted to use this, if he could. As much as it was tempting to binge on junk food, drink too much and watch porn for an hour, as much as he wanted to run away from everything he was feeling, he owed it to you and to himself to face it all and learn from it. He wanted to be the man you deserved, if that was even humanly possible; he wanted to be who you used to think he was.

//

The next week went by in a blur: a blur filled with shitty romcoms, Ben & Jerry’s straight from the carton, and phone calls ignored.

It would all be fine with time, you knew that, but god, it fucking hurt now. It made you want to call him and at least apologize for having sex with him when you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to if he knew you were upset. More time and distance from the situation made you appreciate that it was manipulative, even if it by no means justified the way he grabbed you, or shoving anybody in the first place.

Truth was, you were scared of Bucky long before that happened. You were scared of how strong your feelings were for him; and, in turn, you were scared of how strong his feelings were for you. You felt loved by him, and you didn’t know what to do with that. So you self-destructed.

Just in time to tear you out of your spiralling thoughts, the intercom buzzed from the front gate. You furrowed your brow, wondering who it could be, and got up to check the camera feed.

You couldn’t see the face of the driver, just his arm, but you’d recognize that Rolex on his wrist anywhere.

“What do you want?” you asked coldly, holding down the intercom talk button.

"Let me in," Sam instructed.

"And why should I?"

"Cause if you don't, I'll press charges against your boyfriend."

BEEP BEEP BEEP! the gate announced its opening.

You took the time while he parked his car and walked to the door to throw out the wrappers from all your questionable “meals” (i.e., candy and ramen), change into slightly nicer sweats and splash your face so you looked slightly less dead. Just as you came downstairs from your rushed primping, Sam knocked on the door and you turned off the TV, tossing the remote aside. “It’s open!” you called out.

He turned the knob and stepped in with just one foot, peering around.

“Is the Terminator home?” he asked coyly. “Cause I actually think I’ve been assaulted enough for one week.”

“No, he’s gone. And don’t call him that.”

“What?” he shrugged, finally coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut on its own, taking his shades off and sliding them into the collar of his v-neck shirt. “It’s a compliment, and you really invite the killer robot comparisons when you’re part robot, look like a killer, and act like a thug.”

“He’s sensitive about the arm, okay? It’s one of the reasons he… it’s part of why we waited so long to go public.”

Sam glanced down to beside the door, where three pairs of your shoes were haphazardly lined up while his boots were noticeably absent. “And the fact that he’s moved out? When’s that gonna go public?” He always had an eye for these things, the bastard.

“I… I don’t know,” you sighed. “What do you want, exactly? Because honestly, I really can’t handle you right now.”

“I’m just trying to be a friend,” he explained, stepping closer again as you leaned against the breakfast bar.

“You seemed a lot more than friendly on Saturday,” you reminded him. “God, Sam, why did you have to do that?”

“So it’s my fault, then?” he rolled his eyes.

“No, of course not,” you assured, “but you knew I wasn’t single. I was actually happy… did you even want me back? Or did you just want to fuck with my life?”

“I did want you back, really.” He paused for a moment, more serious than he almost ever got. “I still do.”

You scoffed, looking away. “What happened to just being a friend?”

“That’s not why I’m here, this time. I’m just here to tell you that I’m worried about you.”

You took your weight off the bar and circled it into the kitchen, Sam mirroring you by following around the other side. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge. He opened his mouth to answer but then leaned in as he stared at your hand where it was right in front of his face gripping the refrigerator’s door handle.

"He did that to you?" Sam pointed to the bruise on your wrist. You let go of the fridge and pulled your sleeve down to cover it again but that was answer enough. "Jesus, babe, this guy's fucking crazy."

"He's not crazy, and don't call me that," you frowned. "I don't think he meant to, really— his prosthetic is powerful and it was in need of a recalibration. He shouldn’t have grabbed me, but, he probably didn’t mean to do it so hard.”

Sam didn’t seem too convinced by that explanation, but didn’t say anything.

“Believe it or don’t, Sam, but either way it’s none of your business,” you frowned.

“Right, I know,” he nodded. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s you?” you pressed with an incredulous raised brow, opening the fridge again to grab yourself a green juice (because you were, again, trying to look like you had your shit together) and starting to walk away.

“I’ve changed, believe it or not,” he explained as he followed you out of the kitchen again. “Occasionally, people are capable of that.”

“If that’s true, then I owe it to Bucky to wait for him like I said I would,” you shot back. “I told him to leave so we could work on things separately. Not so I could entertain your come-to-Jesus moment.”

“It’s not a ‘come-to-Jesus’ moment, it’s just a ‘give me another chance’ moment,” he corrected as you took a long sip of the juice, “it’s a ‘maybe we ended things too soon’ moment.”

You looked at him in silent judgment as you kept drinking, and the way he was looking at you made you glad the glass bottle was keeping your lips occupied.

“It’s an ‘I’m still in love with you’ moment.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spit the juice right onto him, covering your mouth in shock just a moment too late.

For one of those indefinite moments, you were just staring at each other while you both contemplated that you had said he loved you and you had spat juice onto him.

“Okay, I was prepared to get shot down,” he admitted. “This is… worse.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, trying not to laugh, “I… I’ll get some paper towels, I can get you a new shirt, but it’ll have to be one of the ones Bucky left behind…”

“Oh god, it’s sticky,” he grimaced, as he tried to peel his shirt from his skin, “can I just use your shower maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded, “upstairs and down—”

“I remember where it is,” he reminded you as he stepped past you to make his way to the bathroom. “I knew I should’ve waited to say it until she was done drinking…” you heard him mumble to himself before he disappeared and you heard the bathroom door shut.

But truthfully, it wasn’t really the fact that he said it, or the concept of Sam loving you at all that made you spit out your drink. It was that when he said it, you realized you were in love with Bucky. Which, yes, would’ve been obvious to anyone else but it came as quite a shock to you.

It made you realize that you wanted to make this work. You wanted to be vulnerable, you wanted to try, even if it ended just as badly as it nearly had last week; even if it meant dealing with all the shit that you’d pushed down for so long.

You wanted to have another chance, this time knowing how hard it would be to be without him.

Just as you pondered what to do with that realization, a knock at the door startled you. Who could have made it to the door without buzzing the intercom?

Somebody who has the gate code already, you realized, and your heart sank. You weren’t ready to see him again— specifically, you weren’t ready to be seen by him again. Sure, cleaning up the trash and splashing your face was enough for a guest like Sam, but you had been imagining that when you saw Bucky again you’d be all dolled up looking like you were doing better than ever, like you were thriving without him just to rub it in that you were the best he ever had.

Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours after your realization so you could go to him on your own terms, with your whole speech prepared and everything? As an actress, you were much more comfortable reading lines than improvising.

Another knock made you sigh and set down the half-empty bottle of green juice, running up to the door to answer it.

“Hi,” he greeted soberly when you opened the door.

“Hey,” you nodded back, “listen, now’s not a great time…”

“Listen, I’m not here to cause any problems, or ask you for anything, I just need some of my stuff back,” he explained.

“Okay, it would’ve been better if you had come at another time—”

“I know, I’m not trying to invade your space,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have used the gate code, I didn’t mean to surprise you, honestly it was just second nature but I realize now I should’ve called first— well, I don’t think you’re taking my calls right now—”

“Bucky, please, we can talk later,” you assured, trying to shut the door.

“Can we?” he sighed. “I mean, will we?”

“Yes, but I’m busy right now,” you explained.

“When?” he asked, voice full of hope. “Soon?”

“I— I don’t know, sure,” you shrugged.

“You’re just saying that to get me to leave,” he realized flatly. “I understand, I don’t blame you— god, I just hate how scared you are of me. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I just wanted to keep you safe and now I can’t even do that, now you think of me as a threat. You should have the gate code changed, if it’ll make you sleep better—”

“I sleep fine, just go and we’ll deal with all of this soon— really, I promise!”

“You promised before and this week without you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!” he returned, getting more emotional as he gestured with his hands. “I’m not saying this should all go away in a week, there’s so much more I have to do, but… but not being able to see you at all is killing me. And it’s not like I don’t see you, your movies are on every fucking channel, but you know, I don’t get to really see you, talk to you— that’s what I miss, I miss when we would talk for hours.”

“I miss that too,” you agreed, “it’s all going to happen, it’s just that I need you to go right now—”

And of course, Sam picked just the right time to come running down your staircase with only a towel around his waist.

Bucky tensed up as he saw Sam, jaw tightening. "Oh."

You had no idea what would happen. Was Bucky going to attack him again? Would Sam try to hit Bucky? Were you going to drop dead from sheer embarrassment?

Instead, Bucky just sighed a little and looked to the ground, almost laughing though he seemed anything but amused. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘being alone’ means,” he sneered.

“Sam was just—” you began to defend.

"No, it’s okay, I see how it is," Bucky informed you quietly, coldly. He didn’t even seem angry anymore, just defeated. "I'll leave. I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry."

And he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, it's not—"

He shrugged your hand away as he kept walking, forcing you to chase him.

"Don't leave, please— Bucky, I love you too."

He stopped, but didn't turn around yet; you just stood behind him, staring at his back as it rose and fell with a slow breath. When he looked back at you, his eyes were red, brimming with tears and heartbreak. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you promised.

“And what does that mean for us?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted.

“I don’t think I’m ready to come back yet. As much as I miss living with you— and as much as my apartment is so gross—”

You giggled a little, glad you could laugh with him again even if just for a second.

“I need more time. I’m not going to subject you to me until I know I can be… stable, again.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Whatever you need.”

“But maybe we could… go out sometime? Somewhere where there aren’t paparazzi, ideally?”

“Uh, Vermont?” you offered jokingly. “I’ll find somewhere, though. We’ll talk this all out.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing a little. “Okay.”

With obvious hesitance, he leaned in slightly and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You wanted more than anything to get up on your tiptoes and kiss his lips, but it was probably too soon. He smiled down at you slightly before he turned to walk away, and you did the same as you made it back into the house.

“Hey, listen,” you began as you found Sam still waiting in a towel looking completely lost.

“That doesn’t sound like the beginning of good news,” he sighed.

“I’m so glad you were honest with me and I’m still really sorry for spitting on you, and for Bucky shoving you, and for everything awful that went down between us. And some part of me is always gonna love you, but—”

“I know,” he nodded, clearly disappointed but resigned in a peaceful way. “It’s okay. I had my chance, I blew it, and if this Bucky guy has his then I just hope he isn’t taking it for granted.”

You smiled a little. “He’s not.”

“Then I’ll get dressed and go. Please direct me to his favorite shirt, so that I may steal it,” he requested formally, making you laugh, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet; instead, you stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a good friend, Sam,” you mumbled against his bare chest.

“Yeah, kinda wish I wasn’t though,” he sighed as he hugged you back.

“Kinda wish I’d made you get dressed before hugging you,” you admitted, the awkwardness of his nudity finally catching up with you.

“Yeah…” he agreed in a whispered sigh.

//

His palms were actually sweaty; well, at least one of them was. He hadn’t been this worked up about a date since high school.

But there was so much more riding on that now than there was then. If he blew this, you probably would dump him for good, and he’d become ‘that guy Y/N Y/L/N dated for a minute’ to the rest of the world.

And there was so much more to him than that— he was learning to really let that shine after three weeks of therapy on Mondays and Thursdays— and so much more to his relationship with you, but it would still be pretty humiliating. More importantly, he would be heartbroken if he never got a chance to hold you again, kiss you again, tell you he loved you not during a fight…

His eyes glanced to the door instinctively when someone stepped in, but it still wasn’t you. He checked his watch and closed his eyes: it was still a few minutes early, you probably wouldn’t be here until 6:30, since that was when you’d agreed to meet when you discussed all this over text. But the length of time between 6:27 and 6:30 just seemed to keep getting longer and longer.

When you finally walked in, it was like one of those movie moments where everything slowed down, the ambient noise and background music faded away, and all he could see was you. If this was it, at least he got to see you like this one last time.

He waved you over, watching you walk closer and feeling his heart race as you pulled him into a hug.

“I missed you,” he blurted out right away.

“Missed you too,” you mumbled back, pulling from the embrace as he moved to pull out your chair for you.

“So,” he began as he sat down, “do you… want me to go first? Or do you want to go first?”

“I love you,” you said instantly, and he couldn’t fight a wide smile.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” you grinned, “I think you should go first.”

“Well, now that you say that suddenly I forget everything I’ve been practicing in the mirror all day,” he chuckled. “I already told you I’ve been in therapy, and they finally got me on stuff for my PTSD… it feels weird to say it, to talk about it like I really have it… but I do, and I’m working on not being ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the way I treated you that day, how I let my anger get the best of me and how I hurt you when you’re the most important person in my life. You didn’t deserve that. And if I haven’t said it enough, I’m truly sorry.”

“I know,” you nodded, “thank you. I’m glad you’re getting help… I don’t want to see you like that for your own sake, too.”

“Just because you don’t hate me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me. And just because you forgive me doesn’t mean you have to take me back,” he reminded you softly.

“But I do forgive you, and I do want you back,” you promised. “And I want to apologize, too, for the things I did wrong… obviously it’s basically impossible for me to hurt you physically, you’re so much stronger than I am, but I hurt you with how I handled some things and I regret that.”

“It did hurt, but I still reacted poorly at basically every turn. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous of Sam in the first place, if you and him have something going on then that’s none of my business—”

“Of course it’s your business, Bucky, you’re my boyfriend!” you laughed. “You don’t need to be jumping for joy when I talk to my ex, you just need to not be that aggressive about it.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. “Is he your ex?”

"When you came over the other day, and he was there… nothing happened, really. He came over, I told him I didn't want to be anything more than friends, he asked to use my shower… I don't know how to prove it to you—"

"You don't have to," he shook his head. "If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

“I mean, we hugged,” you remembered. “And he took your Fleetwood Mac shirt.”

“He what?” Bucky yelped, but then calmed himself down immediately. “Whatever, it’s fine, the point is that I have a lot of shit I still need to work on. Because the truth is, you’re not mine—”

“No, I—”

“Really, you’re not. You’re your own person. That’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place, I love that you’re independent and strong and… maybe a little crazy, but you’re exactly who you need to be. You don’t belong to me.”

“I don’t mind belonging to you as long as it’s fair, Bucky; as long as we belong to each other.”

“Sweetheart, you always had me,” he laughed. “From day one.”

“Then let’s figure your shit out. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit too… commitment issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues—”

“Ooh, I have that one too!” he beamed, making you laugh. “You know, when I was talking to my therapist, she had me do this thing where I talked about my hopes and stuff and, I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb but I wanted us to do that. I want to know what you’re hoping for for this.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “well, I’m hoping that you’ll move back in soon but not right away, maybe in a few months? I want us to get better at being apart, it’ll come in handy when I have to go to far off places for filming and stuff.”

“Totally with you,” he agreed, “might have to start buying some real furniture for my place though.”

“What about you?” you prompted.

“I’m hoping that you still think I'm cute enough to put up with some of my crap," he smirked, "if not all of it."

"Definitely," you grinned.

“I’m hoping that in the future, if you’re upset, you’ll tell me and we can work it out, and then have make-up sex," he added.

“Deal,” you chuckled.

“And, if I’m being honest,” he continued, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “I’m hoping that I can take you home tonight.”

It was so simple, but it made a shiver run down your spine. This distance had caused more than just your heart to grow fonder, and you were craving his touch more than ever. “Where’s home?” you asked coyly.

“It’s wherever you wanna go,” he purred. “Your place, my place, the back of your car—”

“That one,” you nodded eagerly, “definitely that one.”

//

You wanted to go right then and there but he made you sit through the whole dinner, with all the trappings of wining and dining, though for you it sometimes felt more like whining and dying because you needed him so bad you couldn't think. But he stayed patient, keeping up the conversation, asking more about a new project you were tentatively linked with, telling you more about the newest improvements to his prosthetic.

He picked up the check, which was absurd to you but he insisted, and escorted you to your car as if his intentions were just gentlemanliness even though you knew it was far worse than that.

He (gently) pinned you up against the side of the car, kissing you slowly, making you melt like it was no effort for him at all. As his lips made their way to your ear, he whispered to you darkly, "get in the back and spread your legs for me."

You were sure you'd never obeyed an instruction so fast, hopping in and happily watching him climb in behind you. He instantly knelt down between your spread legs, holding you by your thighs as he pushed your dress up, and you were already lifting your hips up to let him pull your panties down to your ankles.

"So eager," he whispered happily, kissing his way up one of your legs and never breaking his gaze away from yours. Your mouth fell slack as you watched him get higher and higher, closer to where you were already dripping with need. "Been wanting to do this since that night, however many months ago, where I had to watch somebody else do this to you," he admitted with a grin that nipped at your inner thighs. "I know I've tasted you a thousand times since then, but I wanted to do it here."

There was a lot you could say to that, but it was all lost to a gasp as he licked one long, thin stripe right across your entrance and over your clit. Already you were shaking and grabbing his hair— he'd grown it out just enough that you could really dig your fingers into it, but even so he kept his teasing pace.

He kept going, that slow and torturous cycle where just as your clit got some much-needed attention, he started back over at your leaking opening again.

"The fuck are you doing down there, trying to figure how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" you finally groaned, making him chuckle at how demanding you'd become.

"I'm just making sure I do this right," he dismissed. "Want more, baby?"

"Please," you shuddered. "Need your tongue inside me."

He grinned and put you out of your misery, really latching his lips onto you now as he pushed his tongue inside and curled it against your g-spot. It was enough to make your back arch dramatically and your fingers clench on his hair, a little growl echoing out of his mouth and into your body in response.

Your legs were accidentally clamping down on his head each time he sucked on your clit, but he didn't seem to mind, if anything it egged him on.

"C-close, so close," you chanted our warning as his hands tightened on your thighs he gave wide laps to your throbbing button.

"Say you love me baby," he mumbled his demand against your skin.

"Bucky, yes, I love you," you whimpered. "Love you so much, fuck, I'm gonna come…"

He nodded as he wrapped his lips around your clit and kept sucking, harder than ever, until your whole body was literally quaking and you weren't sure if you had closed your eyes or if your vision just went black for a second. As if that weren't enough, he kept going until you had to push him off of you by his forehead, shivering and catching your breath as aftershocks rocked your body.

"You're so amazing," he groaned huskily as he sat up and pulled you into a rough kiss, the taste of your pleasure coating your tongue as it tangled with his. Just as you were about to reach down and attempt to operate his belt buckle with your tingling fingers, he pulled back from the kiss a moment too soon. "And now you get to drive yourself home," he grinned, patting you on the cheek reassuringly.

"What? That's it?!" you squawked.

"You just came so hard you nearly blacked out and you're asking me if that's it?" he smirked incredulously.

"I just thought you would want to, you know… go all the way," you explained, cringing at the immature phrase.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and this is still our first date," he reminded you.

"But aren't you, you know…?"

"Oh, I am," he nodded quickly, leaning in to bite at your neck. "Don't worry about me, princess, I can take care of myself." He chuckled at your whimper and pulled back to look right into your eyes. "But it's not about me, is it? You want my cock all for yourself, don't you?"

You nodded, making him giggle sweetly.

"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," he cooed, poking the tip of your nose with his finger and laughing harder at your needy whine. "We'll go out again next weekend and maybe if it goes well, it'll lead to something more, alright?"

"Okay," you sighed, "I can wait a week. I think."

He smiled and kissed you again, helping you pull your panties back up and rubbing your thigh appreciatively. "Goodnight," he whispered against your lips, slipping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

You sighed and let your head fall back against the seat, watching out the window as he walked back to his bike. You hated to see him go, but you did love watching him walk away.

//

two years later…

“Will the Six Million Dollar Man be joining us?” Sam asked with a smirk as he glanced to the door of the bowling alley, checking to see if anyone had walked in.

“When he gets off of work,” you promised.

“Why do you call him that?” Natasha asked Sam innocently.

“You’ll see,” Sam promised, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek, but you figured there was a pretty good chance she wouldn't get the reference anyway.

Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway and you and Sam waved him to the correct lane. “Hey guys,” he greeted, “hey babe,” he pulled you into a quick kiss. “And happy birthday, Sam.”

“Shh, keep it down, we don’t want any Hollywood people to find out that I’m aging,” Sam joked. “Are you gonna join the game or just observe?”

“I’ll join, if it’s not too late,” Bucky decided.

“Since when do you bowl?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Since I got the prosthetic recalibrated to throw the perfect strike every time,” he winked.

Beers and turns went pretty quickly after that, light conversation interspersed in between, until the more raucous parts of the evening died down and you left Bucky for a moment to join Sam at the bar.

Sam nodded to acknowledge you as you leaned beside him, and you ordered yourself one more drink before you called it a night.

“So, Natasha,” you started the conversation, watching the way Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “She’s great.”

“Yeah, she’s really something,” he agreed. “I wanted you guys to meet her sooner, but you were gone filming for so long and all.”

“Don’t fuck this one up, Sam,” you threatened.

“I’m trying not to!” he defended, before looking around like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. As you furrowed your brow and wondered what he was up to, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and showed you a picture: a ring, with a massive diamond and accents of citrine.

“Holy shit…” you sighed, pulling the phone closer to get a better look.

“Had it custom made, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow,” he explained, putting the phone away. “I don’t even know how I’m gonna ask her yet… I just know I need to snag this one before she slips through my fingers.”

“You’re really like a whole new man,” you realized aloud.

“I’m telling you, this girl… she really changed everything for me,” he sighed wistfully, and you nodded because you knew what that was like.

“I knew you just needed a good woman to straighten you out, Wilson,” you joked, patting him on the shoulder, “my only mistake was ever thinking it was me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was you, too,” he smiled softly. “I really loved you, even when I was stepping out on you… and I think I needed to love you, and to lose you, to be here now.   So, thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” you laughed a little, taking a slow sip of your drink.

“And if she says yes, I’m gonna need all the marriage advice you have to offer,” he bargained.

“I mean, we’ve only been married for a month,” you chuckled, “I don’t think we’re far enough into it to really provide significant guidance.”

“And you’ve already gone through so much together.  Is he doing alright?  You know, his nightmares and stuff…”

You glanced over and where Bucky and Natasha were chatting, admiring how at ease he looked; he usually had a harder time with new people.  “Yeah, it’s been a lot better, he’s on new meds… how did you know about that?”

“He talks to me sometimes,” Sam admitted.  “And as someone who has played a PTSD-striken veteran in not one, but two major motion pictures, I’m sort of an expert,” he winked, but then got serious again.  “I would’ve asked him how he was doing myself but he wouldn’t let me ask him personal stuff on my birthday.”

“I bet he’d let you ask him for his opinion on the ring you just showed me.”

“Um, why would I want his opinion when he bought you that?” he grimaced, pointing at the ring on your finger.  “I mean, sapphires?  Really?”

“Cut it out,” you laughed, shoving him on the shoulder.

“Okay, fine,” he relented. 

“Are you coming to my premiere tomorrow, by the way?” you asked.  “I have it on good authority you were invited, since I demanded it.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded, “Nat really wants to go, too.  She’s a big fan of your work.”

“Well, tell her she was great in that one about the missing girl,” you replied.  

“I’ll be sure to tell her exactly that.”

“We should head home, you know how early premiere prep starts,” you sighed with an exhausted roll of your eyes, finishing the last of your drink before grabbing Sam on the shoulder.  “Good luck with however you decide to pop the question with Nat.  Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded and let you go, and once you got Bucky’s attention and said goodbye to Nat, the two of you made your way out back to the car.

“I’m glad you and Sam get along,” you reminded him as you squeezed his hand.

“What gives you that impression?” he scoffed.

You shook your head and smiled, letting him walk you to the car in silence.

Less than 24 hours later, you held his hand in just the same way as you sat beside each other in the screening auditorium, watching your latest film fade to black and hearing the crowd at the premiere— mostly cast, crew, and critics— erupt into applause.

"I have a little surprise for you," you whispered in his ear as the credits began to flash.

"I am not gonna let you blow me in this crowded theater," he instantly scolded.

"No, not that," you giggled, although you secretly wondered how much less crowded the theater would have to be for him to let you try it.  "Just wait until my name comes up."

Written and Directed by Hope Van Dyne

A Paramount Pictures Film

In Association with Europa

And then there it was, in big white letters, just as much of a trip to see as the first time you saw your name on the big screen.  But something very important had changed.

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes

Everyone at the screening was clapping and cheering, but you were so focused on him that his whisper was the only thing you heard.  "Sweetheart," he gasped, and you smiled wide.  "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to."

"It's just a stage name, if you want to keep it the same—"

"Buck, really.  I want your name there with mine."

"But your credits…" he protested, though the break in his voice made it clear he was tearing up.  "You're an actress and you've established your career already and it's so important to you—"

"Hey," you soothed, reaching up to brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you.  "Your wife is the most important thing I've ever been."

[nastybuckybarnes]

Deep End  -  Two

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Smut (DubCon,) Manipulation, Anxiety

Word Count: 3.4K

A/n: Boom part two! I wanna hear what y’all think’s gonna happen with this series

Madness Masterlist

Bad Dream Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

“Good morning, Darling.” Chapped lips press a kiss to your cheek, strong arms winding around your figure and a sharp chin digging into your shoulder.

“Breakfast smells delicious.” You only hum, trying to get your hands to stop shaking.

“Is it eggs?!” Sarah bounds down the stairs excitedly, running straight for your legs.

Steve intercepts her, tossing her up in the air then catching her in his arms again.

She erupts in a fit of giggles and squeals as he starts tickling her, and you find yourself biting your tongue to stop yourself from saying anything to him.

“Eggs and bacon and pancakes only for you, Princess!” He exclaims, kissing her cheek then setting her back on her feet.

“Do I still go to school?” Sarah asks, climbing up onto one of the barstools and kicking her legs.

“Yes, sweetie, you still have to go to school. We’re gonna get you back to school soon, there’s just some things that... your dad... and I need to discuss first, okay? But today, you can relax at home, eat your breakfast and explore the house if you want.” She nods her head eagerly, little hands holding her fork as you slide a plate of food over to her.

You portion some out for Steve too, grinding your teeth together in distaste.

You scoured the house for anything that could be used against him but came up completely empty-handed. Rat poison, bleach, Lysol. Nothing.

He takes his plate with a smile, his free hand gripping your waist and turning you to him slightly.

He leans down, lips pressed against yours for a brief gentle moment before pulling away and sticking his tongue out at a snickering Sarah.

He sits down beside Sarah and starts eating, his eyes boring holes into your back as you gather some food for yourself. As you’re getting ready to sit down, he stands up, unlocking a drawer by the sink and grabbing a bottle of something.

Your heart races in your chest and you hold your fork just the tiniest bit tighter, prepared to use it as a weapon if you need to.

He turns back to you with a smile, setting two small pills on your napkin, away from Sarah’s curious gaze.

“Take them with your food,” he instructs, kissing your forehead then sitting back down between you and your daughter.

"Morgan’s gonna get dropped off for a little while, Sarah. She’s around your age and I think you two will get along great. You guys can play while your mother and I talk, okay?” She bobs her head up and down, shovelling the eggs into her mouth.

“Good.”

~*~

“They’re really hitting it off,” Steve says with a smile, watching as his daughter and her new friend play in the backyard.

You hesitantly come up beside him, a small smile spreading on your lips.

“I-I’m always nervous about her making friends. She’s never really had problems with it but...” You trail off, taking a step back as he turns around to face you.

“Tony’s got Morgan enrolled in a private school, says it’s really good. I was thinking we could send Sarah there too.” You bite your bottom lip and shrug. “I-I don’t know how I feel about private schools. What are the reviews like? And are they strict? I don’t want her... all I want is for her to have a normal childhood. That’s all I want.” Steve’s face softens and he nods, taking your hand and ushering you to the living room.

“It’s all gonna be okay. I know it’s gonna take some getting used to, but it’ll all work out in the end, you’ll see.”

You take a couple of deep breaths, wanting so desperately to believe him but you know better.

“Tony says the school’s really good, and it’s not super strict. The kids still get to have fun and make friends while learning. I think we should give it a shot and if she doesn’t like it we’ll find another school for her to go to.” You nod, eyes fluttering over to the window looking over the backyard.

“Now, I think you and I need to set down some ground rules, okay?” You turn to him, your guard up in an instant.

His face is calm, but you still don’t trust him.

“Sarah’s going to be at school all day, I’ve gotta go to work, which means you’re going to be here to look after the house. My beautiful housewife.” You furrow your brows, “What am I supposed to do here all day?” He looks around with pursed lips.

“Cook and clean? Keep the house looking nice, maybe you could start a garden if you want. But soon you’ll have less time for moving around and more time for...” he trails off, his hand coming to rest on your stomach.

“You’re gonna give me another baby, gonna carry it in that beautiful body of yours. And when the baby gets here you’ll have your hands full so you may want to start planning for that now.”

You’ve got no choice in this.

“D-did you keep any of Sarah’s old baby furniture?” You ask softly, fighting back tears.

“No, I gave it to Nat and Bucky cause they were talking about adopting. But you can buy more. I’ll give you my card and that can be your task. When Sarah’s at school and you’re done with cleaning, you can start setting up the new baby’s room.” He says it like it’s the most prestigious task he could give and you should be thanking him for the opportunity.

“Now, one last thing...” He eyes you for a moment then shakes his head.

“Your old wardrobe is going to be gotten rid of. I don’t want to see you in these leggings or jeans. I’ll have Nat bring over some clothes that are more acceptable, but until then, there should be a few decent dresses still in the closet from... before.” His eyes dark the tiniest bit at the mention of how things were.

“I want you to go change, then gather up all your old clothes. Once that’s done, you can start making lunch. I’m going to run out to grab a few things for dinner, we’re having guests over tonight, so I expect you to be on your best behaviour, okay?”

You say nothing, eyes focused on the floor.

He grabs your chin roughly and forces you to look at him, his eyes blazing.

“I asked you a fucking question, dear. You’d better answer me before I get angry.”

You swallow hard then nod, “o-okay. I will.”

He nods and lets go of your face with a smile, rising to his feet and fixing the sleeves of his shirt.

“Good. I’m thinking pasta for dinner.”

~*~

You’re wearing a yellow sundress that comes just past your knees. It flows with every step you take and you’ve gotta admit that it’s quite pretty. You hate that he chose it, though.

You set the dining room table silently, mind racing. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice you’re not alone until a hand is grabbing the bottom of your dress.

“Mommy, did you hear me?” You gasp, jumping in surprise then shaking your head.

“No, Sarah, I didn’t. Mommy was just thinking. Sorry, what did you say?” She huffs a breath.

“Daddy said that Aunty Nat is coming over for dinner! Do you think she’ll bring ice cream?” Your heart clenches and you sigh.

“I uh... I don’t know. You’ll have to go ask... your father.”

“Ask me what?” Sarah turns to him and lifts her arms, giggling happily when he scoops her up in his arms.

“When Aunty Nat comes is she gonna bring ice cream?”

“Well, I don’t know if she’ll bring ice cream, but maybe after dinner we can all go out and get an ice cream cone. How does that sound?” She claps her hands together in excitement, squealing when she hears the front door open.

“Knock knock!” A female voice calls.

You swallow hard, trying not to let your anger get the better of you as Sarah shimmies out of her father’s grip and rushes to the door.

“Aunty Nat!” The redhead picks her up and spins her around.

“Hey, pumpkin! How’s my favourite girl doing?”

You walk back to the stove, stirring the noodles and imagining how satisfying it would be to dump the boiling water on the traitorous redhead.

“How’s dinner coming along?” Steve asks, his hands finding your hips.

“Just about done. Everyone can sit down, it’ll only be a minute more.” He nods, kissing your temple and opening the fridge to grab drinks.

“Hey, pal.” You stiffen, too many memories filling you at the voice.

“Hey, Buck. Glad you could make it.” You keep your back to the brunet, not wanting to see him, to remember what happened any more than you already have to.

“Aren’t you going to greet our guests, dear?” Steve asks, one hand grabbing the waistline of your dress and tugging. You reluctantly turn around to face the brunet just as the redhead walks into the room.

“Well?” Steve asks, looking at you expectantly. You say nothing, glaring daggers at Natasha. She meets your gaze for a moment then looks away, knowing full well what she’s done.

“Dinner’s ready.” Is all you say, yanking out of Steve’s grip and turning back to the stove.

“It’s nice to see you again too, (Y/n),” Bucky says, walking past you and into the dining room.

Natasha brings Sarah after him, leaving you and Steve alone.

“You and I will need to have a long conversation once they leave,” he hisses. “If your attitude doesn’t improve, then you’re going to need to be punished for it.”

You turn and look up at him with defiant eyes.

“I’m wearing your stupid dress and I’m playing your stupid game. What more do you want from me? You’ve got me and my daughter held hostage in your goddamn dollhouse and-” He grabs you by the throat, shaking his head at you.

“Fine. I’ll fucking teach you now then.”

He shoves you aside and walks into the dining room, a smile on his face.

“She’s just gonna bring dinner out. Then she and I need to have a little chat before we join you.” You reluctantly bring the food out, if only so Sarah can eat. You’ve hardly set the steaming dishes down before Steve’s grabbing your hand and yanking you through the house and up the stairs.

Your heart races in your chest, fear coursing through your veins at what he may have planned for you.

Flashes of different ways he’s punished you run through your mind and you feel your eyes fill with tears as he shoves you onto his bed.

His chest is heaving, with anger or exertion, you can’t tell.

“S-Steve I’m sorry. P-please don’t hurt me.” He watches you for a moment then shakes his head.

“You know I can’t tolerate that kind of behaviour.” You crawl back, tears dripping down your cheeks.

“I-I’m just, please! I’m scared and tired a-and I don’t have any friends and m-my dad is-is...” You shake your head, hoping he has a shred of decency left inside of himself.

“Please!” He stares at you long and hard then sighs. “You know I love you, and I love Sarah with my entire heart. But I can’t tolerate this rude behaviour. I know it’s a big transition for you, and I’m willing to be patient, but you can’t treat our guests that way. Rudeness directed at me is different, but you have no right to treat Bucky and Natasha the way you did. That’s why you’re being punished. I’ll forgive the snappy behaviour towards me, but not them.”

You shake your head and shove your face in your hands, sobs bubbling free from your chest.

“Please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry.” He nods, turning to the dresser and pulling out a familiar box.

It’s the box he keeps his torture toys in, you realize.

“Lay down on your stomach. If you listen, your punishment won’t be nearly as severe.” You sniffle and nod, rolling over and laying down on your tummy.

He flips your dress up and yanks your panties down your legs, eyeing your ass for a moment.

“Bucky and Nat are important members of this family, and you will treat them as such, do you understand?” You nod, crying out in pain and thrashing away from him as a leather paddle comes down hard on your ass.

“Am I going to have to tie you to the bed?” You can’t answer, you’re too busy trying not to choke on your own snot.

He grabs your wrists roughly and ties them to a hoop on the headboard, successfully leaving you at his mercy.

He smacks you again, and again, then a fourth time, and you squirm away as much as you can.

“When you’re good, you don’t get punished.”

He delivers sixteen more impossibly hard hits, then tosses the paddle onto the ground and climbs onto the bed, cock raging in his pants.

His knees push your legs apart and you shake your head, tugging against your restraints desperately as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Huh, would ya look at that?” You press your face into the mattress, humiliation filling you as he rubs his cock through your wet folds.

“Feels like somebody enjoyed that a bit more than they were letting on, huh?” You shake your head, crying out as he sheaths himself fully with only one thrust.

Your walls burn at the intrusion, body instinctively creating more moisture to lubricate the violation, but that’s not how Steve sees it.

“Fuck, your body misses me, huh? Hates it when my cock isn’t fucking you.” He grabs your hips and hoists them up, then starts a punishing pace, forcing you to take every painful inch of him.

“Fuck, feel how tight you are... squeezin’ me so nice...” Every hit of his hips against your ass makes you cry out in pain, your entire lower half on fire.

“M’gonna fill you with my cum then lock it in. You’re gonna give me another fucking baby. Gonna grow nice and big.” He picks up the pace, eyebrows furrowed and face screwed up with pleasure.

His hips still, warmth exploding within you as he reaches his climax.

He stays inside you for a long while, catching his breath while his cock softens, then he slowly pulls out.

“You know,” he begins, rooting around in the box for something, “it’s much more effective if you orgasm too. Really sucks it all up in you and improves the chances of fertilization.” A switch flips and then there’s a constant buzzing noise filling your ears.

Right as you realize what it is, he’s got the vibrator pressed against your clit.

You jolt away from it, hips wiggling at the stimulation.

“N-no,” you whisper uselessly, inhaling sharply when he grabs your waist with one hand to keep you steady, forcing the vibrator against you.

“Look at that... feels good, huh?” You don’t reply, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as the coil in your belly tightens, your toes curling and your back arching, forcing the device against you even more.

Your mouth drops open and your eyes roll back as your body starts to convulse, a powerful orgasm tearing through your entire being.

“There it is,” Steve whispers, watching with dark eyes as he forces an orgasm out of you.

Your pussy flutters and clenches, clit swollen and aching when he finally removes the vibrator.

You’re still recovering from the intensity of your climax when he presses something cool to your entrance.

He forces the plug inside of you, despite your protests, then yanks your underwear back up your legs.

“Now c’mon. We’ve got guests to entertain.” He unties your wrists then helps you to your feet, watching in satisfaction as you struggle to walk down the stairs.

You rub your raw wrists, heart racing in your chest as you slowly walk into the dining room.

Bucky and Nat each look up at you, the redhead turning away while the brunet eyes you, a dark look in his eyes.

Steve’s hand remains possessively on the small of your back, and you carefully sit down, wincing at the burn in your backside and the throbbing of your core.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Steve says, a smile on his face as you portion out some food for him and yourself.

“It’s alright. Things happen,” Bucky replies, eyes stuck on your face.

“It’s been a while since we... since I last saw you, (Y/n). How have you been?” You swallow hard, eyes focused on your plate as you answer Bucky’s question.

“I’ve been fine. How have you been?” He takes a moment to answer, and in the thick silence of the room you can hear the metal plates in his arm whirring.

“I’ve been good. Happy that Steve has you back now.” You nod, forcing yourself to chew and swallow a mouthful of pasta.

“Mommy I’m full! Can we go for ice cream now? Aunty Nat and Uncle Bucky said we could!” You nod, pushing your almost untouched food away and standing up quickly.

“J-just let me clean up, then we can go for ice cream.” You start gathering the dishes, eager to leave the room and put some distance between yourself and the people at the table.

“I’ll give you a hand,” Nat says, rising to her feet and gathering the other half of the dishes.

You ignore her, grabbing the remainder of the food and starting to pack it up in containers in the kitchen.

“(Y/n), I’m sorry.” You shove the food into the fridge and turn to face her, tears welling up in your eyes.

“You’re sorry? That’s it? You’re fucking sorry?! I’m right back where I fought tooth and fucking nail to escape because of you! You’re the reason I’m back here with him, why Sarah’s back here and why he’s hurting me all over again and all you have to say for yourself is ‘I’m sorry’?!” Your voice is whispered, but the words may as well be shouted.

She shakes her head, hating the truth behind your words.

“Y-you don’t understand, (Y/n). I had to.” You sniffle and scrub a fallen tear off of your cheek.

“Or what? Would he kill that rapist boyfriend of yours? You swore you’d keep it a secret and now, because of you, my father’s dead and I’m stuck with a man who’s going to torture me and possibly my daughter as well. So don’t you fucking dare tell me you had to or that you’re sorry because those are both lies.”

You take a few deep breaths, walking to the sink and starting to wash the dishes.

“I trusted you. And you led him straight to us. I don’t care what you say or what you do, I’ll never fucking forgive you. If it were up to me, you’d be left at that cabin to bleed out. It’s what you fucking deserve after what you’ve done.”

She’s silent, standing there behind you for a long moment before turning and leaving the kitchen.

Your hands shake with the intensity of your outburst and you have to stop yourself from crying, chest rising and falling rapidly as your emotions get the better of you.

Your vision starts to blur, soapy hands gripping the edge of the counter tight enough to hurt. You lean over slightly, trying desperately to suck in more air as anxiety fills and overwhelms you.

“(Y/n)?” You don’t notice his hands on you until he’s pulling your hands off of the counter.

“I-I can’t.”

His hands find your waist, trying to usher you away from the sink, and your ears begin to ring.

Your knees give out and you crumble in his arms, him easily supporting your weight as you lose consciousness.

“Buck, take Sarah out for ice cream now.” His voice holds the same type of authority as it does when they go on missions, and the brunet pops his head into the kitchen to investigate for a moment before nodding.

“C’mon Sarah. Do you know what you want?” Bucky asks, taking Sarah’s hand and leading her to the front door.

“Do you?” She sasses.

“Well missy, I’m gonna get two scoops of chocolate, and Aunty Nat's getting mint chocolate chip.”

“I want cookie dough!”

The front door closes with a soft click and Steve sighs, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bedroom.

[radiantroope]

Do You Trust Me? || JJ Maybank

pairing: jj x reader

mentions: john b, kiara, pope

requested: yes, i don’t have the exact request because it’s over on @maybanksbitch

summary: jj finds out you’ve never had sex. being the loving best friend that he is, he offers to show you what you’ve been missing.

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, mentions of peer pressure, fluff, protected sex (no glove, no love), very detailed and graphic fluffy smut

wc: idfk but it’s LONG

a/n: well, here it is! the end’s kinda shitty but honestly, i needed to finish this instead of going back to it on and off for a week. this is unedited because it’s long as hell and i’m lazy.

masterlist | add yourself to my tag list

* not my gif. if it’s yours, please let me know so i can give you proper credit!

It was a lazy day at the Chateau for you and the Pogues. Everyone was debating on what to do for the day. John B suggesting surfing, Pope suggested fishing, Kiara desperately wanted to go swimming since it was blistering hot out. You and JJ were the only two who seemed keen on staying in. You’d rather sit around drinking and playing dumb games.

You sat with Kiara and John B in a half circle of old, stained lawn chairs. Pope and JJ were playing their favorite game that you called ‘Balance’. The one where you try and knock the other person off balance by pushing their shoulder. They were both holding strong, neither one leaning too far with each push.

Somehow you’d all gotten on the topic of hookups. JJ glanced your way and caught your eye for half a second. He’d been your best friend since you were in diapers, of course he knew you didn’t hookup with, well, anyone. The other Pogues didn’t know that though.

“Remember Fallon?” John B asked the group, sending JJ a sinister smile.

“Oh my God, she was obsessed with JJ!” Kiara shrieked through laughs.

You couldn’t help but laugh too, earning a glare from the blonde headed boy. Everyone remembered the crazy redhead who spent everyday at the Chateau looking for JJ.

“That was the first and only time we’ve ever had to lock the doors,” Pope recalled the memory, laughing when JJ shoved his shoulder harder.

“Oh, don’t think I don’t remember Crystal,” JJ teased, pointing a John B. “Or Brad,” he added and turned to Kiara with a raised eyebrow.

“God he still texts me,” Kiara muttered, shuddering at the memory of the Touron who practically fell in love with her last Summer.

“What about you, Y/N? We see the guys all over you at the parties. One ever stick?” Pope asked.

JJ’s jaw clenched at his question. He caught your eye yet again and almost fell over when Pope gave him a good push. You knew the blonde hated how guys treated you at parties. He was always there to get you out of those uncomfortable situations.

“Andrew,” you responded, feeling your chest tighten.

Your exboyfriend was a touchy subject. He dumped you after a year together when you still didn’t want to sleep with him. It never felt like the right time and at first he was okay with it, until he wasn’t. He tried to demand you sleep with him because that’s what couples do.

“He was your boyfriend, he doesn’t count,” John B said.

“I met him at a party though.”

“But he wasn’t just some hookup that became obsessed,” Kiara added.

“He was an asshole and friends with Rafe. Let’s leave it at that,” JJ intervened and gave up on the game with Pope.

The blonde walked over to you and instead of taking the empty chair between yourself and John B, he plopped himself right on your lap. You huffed and wrapped your arm around his middle when he leant back against you. You brought your bottle of Budweiser up your lips, giggling as some of the cold condensation dripped on JJ’s bare shoulder and he shivered.

The conversation changed quickly after that. JJ was protective of you and they all knew if they continued, they’d never hear the end of it. No one wanted to be on that end of JJ’s anger.

Eventually, it was decided that John B, Pope and Kiara would take the HMS Pogue our for a ride. Where they ended up was unknown, but they needed to get out of the house.

“Y’all coming?” John B asked as he stood up and stretched.

“Nah, I think we’re gonna hang back,” JJ answered for the both of you, though you weren’t complaining. You missed the days where it was just you and him. It would be nice to spend some quality alone time with your best friend for the first time in forever.

“Suit yourselves, you two have fun,” the brunette shrugged and went to follow your other two friends down the dock.

“But not too much fun!” Pope quickly called, pointing two fingers at his eyes then back at you.

JJ rolled his eyes and sent Pope his middle finger while you laughed. They all teased you two for being so close. They insisted that you were soulmates and just blind to it. You’d be lying if you didn’t feel some type of way towards the blonde, but you always pushed those feelings away. Soulmates could be best friends, right? They didn’t always have to be lovers.

“Okay, my legs are numb. Please get up,” you patted JJ’s stomach and let out a grunt as he stood.

JJ grabbed the chair John B had been sitting in and pulled it over so he could sit in front of you. He leaned forwards and rested his elbows on his knees, hands reaching out and grabbing your free one. He toyed with the bracelets on your wrist and tightened the ones that were coming loose.

You could tell his brain was at work with the way his crystal blue eyes glazed over. He wasn’t really even paying attention to what he was doing. You wanted to ask him what he was thinking about but also didn’t want to ruin the comforting moment. The rough pads of his thumbs started massaging gently into the top of your hand as his eyes flickered up to your face.

“I have a question. You don’t have to answer, obviously, but I’d like to know,” the blonde broke the silence with his soft voice.

You raised an eyebrow in response, giving him the indication to continue.

“I know you don’t hookup with people at parties, but I’ve also never heard you talk about Andrew in that way,” JJ started, causing your heart rate to increase. You knew where he was going with this. “Are you...have you-have you ever had sex?”

You mouth went dry at the blonde’s question. He may have been your best friend, but that wasn’t something you disclosed with him. Your friends may have been comfortable with expressing their sexual endeavors but not you. You let people think what they wanted and didn’t really care if it was true.

Your lack of response made JJ nervous. He didn’t want to pressure you into talking about something you didn’t want to. He couldn’t care less wether you had sex or not, he was just curious. “You can tell me anything, Y/N. You know I won’t judge you,” he added.

“I know, I know,” you told him, twisting your hand to hold the blonde’s. The tiniest smiled curled at the corner of his lips.

“I, um, yeah, no,” you stumbled over your words, cheeks heating up under JJ’s intense stare. “I’ve never had sex.”

“Not even with Andrew?”

You shook your head and let out a small laugh, avoiding his gaze and staring out at the water. “It never felt right with him. He dumped me because I wouldn’t,” you explained, feeling his grip tighten on your hand. “And I hate the idea of drunk, meaningless hookups too. It’s not like I don’t want to have sex, of course I do, just not like that.”

JJ’s bright eyes watched the way your index finger tapped against the neck of your beer bottle. His gaze trailed up your arm and stopped on your lips. He could see that you were chewing on the inside of your bottom lip. He watched your eyes flicker across the horizon, sparkling with the sun’s reflection. Your hair blew over your shoulder in the warm breeze.

“Do you trust me?” your blonde best friend caught your attention with his question.

You turned and met his stare, eyebrows furrowing a bit. You answered, “Of course I do. More than anyone in the world.”

“Would you let me make you feel good? Show you what you’ve been missing?” JJ was calm and collected on the outside, but on the inside his heart was hammering against his chest.

You didn’t know what to say at first. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about it. JJ was hands down, the most attractive guy on the island, in your opinion. And you knew him in a way other people didn’t. You didn’t know how you hadn’t already taken the dive and fallen in love with him sooner. With the way he was looking at you right now, it started to seem like a possibility.

The pads of JJ’s fingers started to ghost up and down your arm slowly, causing a shiver to run through you. He tilted his head and questioned you, “Y/N?”

You took a gulp of your beer to ease your nerves and set it in the cup holder of the chair. Breathing in deeply through your nose, your e/c eyes fell on his sapphire ones yet again. You head bobbed as you nodded and small smile spread across your lips, saying, “Yeah.. yeah, okay.”

JJ stood up and pulled you up as well with the hands holding yours. He interlocked you’re fingers and led you the short distance up to the Chateau. With each step your heart started to beat faster. You grasped the blonde’s hand tighter to try and keep yourself from shaking. He smiled over his shoulder at you as you crossed the threshold into the house.

The blonde’s hand left yours once you’d entered the spare bedroom. You turned and shut the door, flipping the lock into place just in case the Pogues came back during your escapades. You turned around and tried not to ogle at JJ who had shed his shirt in the few seconds you’d had your back to him.

A smirk curled on his lips as he sat down on the edge of the bed. You’d seen him shirtless thousands of times, but this was different. His eyes were a darker shade as he stared you down. A heat spread through your body as JJ used one finger to beckon you to him, a soft “C’mere” leaving his lips.

You took the few steps to the bed and stopped in front of him. His hands reached out and landed on your waist, pulling you in between his legs. He guided you down into his lap until you were straddling him. Your soft breaths mingled with his from the close proximity. Your hands found place on the warm skin of his bare shoulders.

“If it starts to be too much for you, just tell me to stop,” JJ’s voice was soft as he reached up and tucked your hair behind your right ear, “Okay?”

You nodded and gave him a small smile, whispering, “Okay.”

JJ’s pointer finger hooked under your chin and pulled your lips to his. He tasted like beer with a hint of mint and his lips were a bit chapped. He could taste your cherry chapstick and a soft hum left him. Your fingers slid their way around his neck and into the soft waves on the back of his head.

The blonde’s hands found your waist again as he pulled you closer. Your head tilted, deepening the kiss as you felt his tongue swipe your bottom lip. You obliged and allowed your lips to part, tongues dancing together. Your head was spinning. Never did you think you’d be kissing your best friend of sixteen years, nor that it would feel so good; so natural.

JJ’s fingers slipped under the material of your shirt, dancing against the soft skin of your hips. You pulled away from his lips, breathless. His eyes were soft as he gazed up at you and pushed his hands higher, your shirt moving with them. His hands sat on your ribs, thumbs stroking your skin.

“Can I take this off?” he whispered, eyes darting between both of yours, reading your expression to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed.

You bit down on your swollen bottom lip and nodded, holding your arms up as JJ removed the clothing. Your arms came back down, hands resting against his defined pecks as he took in your naked chest. It wasn’t unusual for you to not wear a bra. They were uncomfortable and itchy so you hardly ever wore one unless completely necessary.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” JJ breathed as his hands came up and cupped the mounds of flesh.

Your heart fluttered at the compliment, cheeks flushing and a smile spreading across your lips. JJ’s head dropped, nose nudging your jaw as you turned your head to the side. He pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck, sharp teeth gently nipping in certain spots. Your eyes slipped closed, breath hitching as he found your sweet spot and focused his mouth there.

His hands stayed on your chest, squeezing your breasts softly. He pinched one of your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. On the other side his thumb brushed over the peaked nub with the lightest touch. A soft moan escaped your lips at the sensations he was bringing you. Your body was getting hotter, a tingling feeling intensifying between your legs.

JJ lifted his head when he was satisfied with the marks littering your skin. He brought his lips back to yours in a hard kiss, tongue immediately pressing it’s way into your mouth. His hands gripped your thighs as he turned the two of you abruptly.

Your back met the mattress and your lips seperated. He was settled between your legs, hands on both sides of your head. He took in the way your pupils were blown, parted lips puffy from the pressure of his own. Your hair was sprawled around you as short pants left your body. A smile tugged at his lips as he leant down to kiss you again. JJ was starting to think he didn’t care if you were the only girl underneath him for the rest of time.

His lips didn’t stay on your for long, wet kisses being pressed down your neck and chest. You watched him kiss his way down your stomach to the hem of your shorts. His eyes flickered up to yours in question as his fingers lingered around the button.

Your head moved in a single nod and that’s all it took for the boy to undo your shorts and pull them off, your underwear going with them. You felt shy under JJ’s hungry gaze as he dropped your clothing onto the floor. Your thighs went to clamp shut but he put his hands on your knees to stop you.

“Is it too much?” the blonde asked, staring up at you.

“No, no,” you responded quickly and smiled softly, putting a hand over the side of your burning face. “S’just no one’s ever seen me like this before.”

JJ smiled at you and glided his hands up your thighs, leaning down to kiss the inside of your knee. He started to trail his lips up the inside of your thigh slowly, eyes still locked on yours. “You’re beautiful,” he told you again against your skin.

You bit your lip to hide your grin and shifted as he pushed your legs open wider. JJ laid down flat on his stomach in between your legs, nearly moaning as his painfully hard cock brushed against the mattress through his board shorts. His eyes flickered up to your face and remained there as he leaned forward and tested the waters, tongue dragging through your folds slowly.

A soft gasp left your lips at the foreign feeling. The bottoms of your feet pressed further into mattress. JJ repeated the action a few more times, the drag of the velvety muscle against your clit sent jolts of electricty through your body. His middle finger came proding at your entrance, slipping in with ease.

He pumped the single digit and slid his ring finger in beside it after a minute. A soft noise of discomfort left your parted lips. JJ wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked softly to distract from the feeling. There was no stopping the smirk on his lips when a sharp moan left you as he curled his fingers. His tongue flicked at your sensitive bundle nerves and your fingers grasped onto the sheets tighter, another moan leaving your mouth.

“Ah, shit,” you hissed, face scrunching in discomfort as he added a third finger.

JJ looked up at you and then focused his mouth on your quivering inner thighs, trying to ease the pain. “I know, I know. But I’ve gotta make sure you’re good ‘n stretched so it’ll hurt less,” he cooed.

You nodded twice and breathed slowly as you willed your body to relax. JJ’s mouth came down and found your clit again. He swirled his tongue as he began pumping his fingers again. He was pleased to hear your whimpers turn back into moans.

The blonde pulled away when he figured you were stretched enough. He wanted nothing more than to have you cum around his fingers, then his cock, but he thought it might be too much for you. A soft whine came from the back of your throat when his fingers left you and he chuckled.

JJ came to a standing position beside the bed and undid the strings on his shorts. He pushed them down and kicked them off, dick standing hard and proud once it was free. He didn’t miss the way your eyes widened and you nervously swallowed as you eyed him.

“I know it looks intimidating,” JJ started, feeling proud that you were impressed. “But you’ll be okay.”

“JJ, you’re gonna rip me in half with that,” you stated, completely serious.

A loud laugh came from the blonde as he bent down and grabbed a condom from the box stored under the bed. He stood back up and crawled onto the bed, silver foil packet clutched between his fingers.

“That’s not gonna happen, baby, promise,” the nickname directed at you rolled off his tongue and your stomach flipped. You’d always teased each other with names like that but it was different in this sense.

You watched silently as JJ ripped open the condom package. His hands shook the slightest bit as he rolled it on and let out a puff of air from the little contact his erection received. He shuffled closer to you on his knees and hooked his hands under the backs of your thighs, pushing them towards your chest. You bit down on your bottom lip as you felt the head of his cock brush your entrance.

“Ready?” the blonde asked, bright eyes meeting yours. His thumb rubbed gently on the back of your thigh as if to tell you it’s okay to back out now.

You nodded in response and let out a deep breath through your nose. Your hand reached down and gripped onto JJ’s wrist that had your leg held back. He gave you a small smile then looked down between your bodies, free hand helping guide his length into your entrance.

Your mouth fell open, hand squeezing onto his wrist tighter as he pushed into you slowly, inch by inch. JJ’s jaw clenched as your pussy gripped him like a vice. He put the hand that was free on your hip and paused.

“Relax, Y/N, you gotta relax,” he groaned out, resisting the urge to plunge into you like he was used to.

“I’m trying,” you whimpered, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“Breathe,” JJ told you, “Breathe through it, baby.”

You sucked in a shaky breath through your nose and let it out your mouth, repeating the action until your muscles started unwinding. The muscular boy above you huffed when he felt you unclench around him. He pressed forward again until his thighs were pressed against the back of your own.

He stayed like that, letting you adjust, drawing soothing circles against your skin as he waited. He looked up to your face and saw you had your eyes clenched shut. His hand came up and caressed the side of your face, thumb brushing underneath your eye.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You swallowed thickly and opened your eyes to look up at him. He was staring down at you in worry but his eyes were filled with nothing but adoration. The whole scenario was making your head spin.

You were laying there, stuffed full for the first time with your best friend’s cock. What?

“Y-Yeah,” you managed to respond, feeling breathless under his stare. “You can move.”

JJ put the hand that was on your face beside your head, leaning his weight on it as he hovered over you. He pulled out slowly then pressed back in. He pushed your leg back farther with the other hand and thrust his hips again.

It was an agonizingly slow pace, you knew that much, but he was taking his time with you and you’d never been so grateful. Anyone else probably wouldn’t have taken care of you the way JJ was. You couldn’t picture losing it to anyone else in that moment. He was the closest friend you had. He was your person.

JJ’s eyes moved between your face and down to where your bodies met repeatedly. He was entranced by seeing your tight walls grip him so deliciously, but also needed to make sure you were okay. He smirked slightly when he saw the crease inbetween your eyebrows disappear with each thrust and soft, pleasured noises started to leave your lips.

The blonde boy began thrusting faster, unable to contain the low groan that bubbled in his throat. Your hands moved up onto the back of his neck and wrapped around his bicep. Your blunt nails dug into his skin as you moaned louder, head tilting back and pressing into the mattress.

JJ readjusted his position, dropping to his elbows on both sides of you. You hiked your legs up on his hips, breath catching in your throat at the new angle. His cock made you feel so full, brushing against your g-spot with each stroke.

“Fuck, J,” you moaned out, fingers tangling in the hair on the back of his head.

The feeling JJ got when looked at you underneath him and you moaned for him was indescribable. A heat flooded his whole body. He wanted to be the one who made you feel good; the only one. The thought of anyone else seeing you like this infuriated him, but the feeling of your hand tugging on his hair brought him out of the trance.

“You’re doing so good,” he muttered, bending his head down to press kisses to your neck, “so good.”

JJ’s thrusts got harder, the head of his cock pressing up against that spot inside of you that made you see stars. You cried you, gripping onto him as he kept the pace, his mouth working more marks into your skin.

He didn’t think he could last much longer, not with how tight your pussy clenched around him every time he hit your spot, moaning his name in ear. He pushed his weight onto one arm and slid the other down between the two of you. He lifted his head and watched as your mouth fell open as soon as his fingers made contact with your clit. He rubbed in quick figure eights, working you up to your high.

“O-Oh shit,” you cursed, nails scratching against JJ’s shoulders as your back arched off the bed.

Your whole body was tingling, a tightening feeling coiling in the pit of your stomach. The rhythm of JJ’s thrusts never faltered. The sinful moan that tore through your throat as you came was music to the blonde’s ears.

“Fuck,” JJ gasped as you clenched around him, following you into euphoria with a moan of his own.

Your thighs shook, still hooked around his waist as you came down from your high. Your arms were still wrapped around his shoulders as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. The two of stayed like that for a few minutes, letting your heavy breaths return back to normal.

Eventually, JJ pulled out of you slowly, causing a small hiss to leave your lips. He climbed off the bed and went to dispose of the condom in the bathroom trash quickly. When he entered the room again, you were climbing under the covers, wrapping yourself in the blankets. You had a hazy look in your eyes and a dopey smile on your face.

“Was it everything you thought it would be?” JJ asked as he climbed under the covers beside you.

The two of you faced each other on the bed, heads nuzzled against the pillows. You hummed softly, eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion washed over you.

“Better,” you muttered in response, cracking your eyes open to peak at your best friend once again.

He was staring at you, soft smile adorning his lips as his eyes trailed over your face. He scooted closer to you and wound an arm around your waist. He pulled you against his chest and pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head. His fingers trailed lazy patterns up and down your spine, lulling you into the best sleep you’d ever have.

“I love you,” JJ whispered, knowing you were deep in dreamland by now.

The blonde didn’t sleep, he just laid there and held you, replaying what just happened in his mind over and over again. He saw you in a different light; a light that he never wanted to burn out. Laying there holding you, butterflies fluttering happily in his stomach, all he could do was smile.

The two of you were definitely going to be having a long conversation on how to move forward when you woke up.

[shorkbrian]

Mommy please

My and @seijoh and @confessions-of-a-yandere-freak and @implexedactions were thirsting and I have so many thots to think about KIRISHIMA always and forever I 🥵

This was supposed to be a short thirst but it’s half thirst half drabble im sorry I couldn’t help myself Kirishima’s just too hot to contain.

(NSFW/mommy kink/noncon)

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Big beefy Kiri is so sweet, so kind and polite and the perfect gentleman. Always offers to take you on dates, showers you with flowers and gifts, tries to hold your hand and kiss your knuckles every chance he gets.

Even if you don’t want him to.

He never gives you a chance to tell him no, to ask him to stop, to push him away. Kirishima shows up at your apartment with roses clutched in his hands, a bright smile on his face as soon as you open the door.

You can’t get the words out to ask him to leave, cause he’s crashing into you, shoving the roses into your hands as he kisses you, mouth hot and wet.

Pushes you around, manhandles you like you’re nothing. By the time he lets you break away from the kiss, his hand is down your shorts, knuckles brushing softly over your panties, pressed up against your clit.

You wanna tell him no, tell him to stop and go home and leave you alone, but then he’s kissing you again, sharp teeth nipping at your lip until you open your mouth to let him explore inside, his technique messy but enthusiastic. 

Kirishima is so strong, it’s easy for him to lift you into his arms, asking you sweetly to wrap your legs around his waist while he slowly grinds his clothed bulge in-between your legs, making you gasp at the pang of pleasure that shoots through your stomach on each grind.

And then his mouth is on yours again, and he's stumbling towards your bedroom. The man pauses occasionally to shove your back against a wall to steady you so he can hump against your pussy, both of your clothes beginning to spot with precum and wetness.

There isn’t time to tell him no, his presence is so overwhelming and it’s so hard to catch a breath with him attacking you so lustfully with his lips and hands.

By the time you reach the bedroom, your scrabbling at his arms, half wanting to be let go, half wanting for him to pull you closer.

You know this isn’t right, what he’s doing isn’t right - it never is, hasn’t been from the beginning. There’s no consent on your part, and Kirishima doesn’t care to ask.

His polite and gentlemanly exterior crumbles around you, burned to ashes by lust and desperation. Instead he turns into a demon, grabbing and humping and taking whatever he wants. Problem is, he doesn’t ask if you want it too.

Never gives into your timid requests for him to leave, always brushes it off as you being shy or embarrassed. At least, that’s what you hope. You can’t bear the thought of Kirishima purposefully fucking you knowing that you don’t want him too.

(He knows, and it hurts his heart. But why would he ever stop fucking you when it makes the both of you almost pass out from the pleasure?)

----

“Let me eat you out mommy, please?”

“Kiri I don’t-”

“Don’t be shy, I love you so much. It’ll feel so good, I’ll be so good for you. Please, please let me lick your perfect little pussy.”

He’s already stripping off your shorts, your hands doing nothing to stop him. Kirishima loves sitting you on the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees and throwing your legs over his shoulders before going down on you. 

The man goes on and on about how pretty you are, how sweet you taste, ignoring whispering “stop, please don’t”.

Kirishima does what he wants, and he only wants you.

When he starts licking broad stripes up your cunt, you can’t do anything but shudder and clutch at his hair, try to pull him away, push him back. It feels good, but you don’t want it to.

Kiri always stops when you pull his hair, looking up at you with glittering red eyes as he lips his lips, savoring your taste.  “Oh, sorry mommy, I forgot to put up my hair. Know you like to pull on it when you get too sensitive.”

And it’s tantalizing, watching his muscles flex underneath his shirt while he pulls his long hair into a ponytail before diving back between your legs. You try to clamp them shut, but he just laughs and easily wrenches them open, tells you not to hide from him, let him see your beautiful little body and make you cum until you’re shaking.

He does exactly that, holding onto one of your legs over his shoulder with one hand, the other kneading his cock through his sweats as he excitedly eats you out, licking and slurping and spitting onto your cunt. You’re usually crying at this point, begging him to stop and go home, leave you alone, you don’t want this, but Kiri never listens.

He does like the sound of your begging.

Kirishima makes sure you cum more than once, messily dragging his tongue over your thighs, lapping at your cum like he’s had nothing to drink for a week, a man with an unquenchable thirst. There’s all sorts of sounds, from his feral, unconscious groaning and growling to the slick, squelchy sound of him mouthing feverishly at your clit.

When he finally pulls back, panting and groaning with need, he blinks up at you, a wide smile dancing across his face.

“Thank you mommy, what a treat. You always taste so nice, wish you would let me spend all day in between your thighs. Thank you so much for letting me eat you out, you’re so good to me.”

The way he says it makes you blush - almost as if you had made him beg to eat you out, as if you had wanted him to do so.

You had begged for him to stop.

It’s not like he ever listens.

And then he’s standing up, shucking off his sweats and shirt before grabbing at your own shirt, pulling it off you before you can resist his big hands. You push yourself towards the other side of the bed, legs feeling like jelly from your previous orgasms, and you don’t get far before Kirishima’s dragging you back towards him.

“Don’t worry, I always make you feel good. I would never hurt my sweet girl. I just wanna feel you mommy, see how hard you made me?”

His cock is bobbing against his belly as he moves, precum slicking the length, smearing against his dark happy trail. He’s got a big dick. You always hate this next part.

Kiri likes to manhandle you while he fucks you, likes to feel how little you are compared to how giant he is. Sometimes he’ll pick you up, hold you in the air and bounce you on his cock while he watches your face, occasionally leaning to kiss and mouth at your neck.

Other times he’ll turn you away from him, push you into the bathroom before picking you up into a full-nelson, right in front of the mirror. In that position, both of you can see how his thick cock enters you, how blotchy your face gets with tears, how you’re almost hyperventilating from the stress and trauma of being violated. Kirishima always looks flushed behind you, knitting his brows together while he chases his pleasure, cooing at his “mommy” and how amazing you are.

When he’s feeling particularly playful, he’ll throw you on the bed, lift you into positions where he has full access to your body, play between sticking his cock in your pussy or tracing it around your mouth. He’ll flick his finger over your clit, mush down the little nub with his thick, calloused thumb and torture it until you’re a sobbing mess, crying and begging and pleading for him to stop, or let you cum - you’d take either at this point.

Today he’s feeling gentle, loving; he wants to spoil his mommy and make you feel amazing, 

So Kiri lays down on his back, pulls you over him and spends a few minutes just grinding his cock against you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, pausing to whine and whimper at the delicious friction of your skin against his cock. He wants to cum, but he wants to make his mommy feel good first.

When the big man does lift you onto his cock, it’s hard for him to start out slow. He always tries to give one hundred percent, can’t hold himself back when he sinks into your tight heat.

You’re laying against him, head buried into the juncture between his neck and shoulder as you cry. But Kiri wants to see. So he pushes you up, holds you upright with his big meaty palms before he plants his feet on the bed and fucks into you so fast you almost scream.

Kirishima pounds into you so quickly on his lap that your tits are bouncing, and he’s addicted to the way the flesh moves before his eyes. He loves you, body, mind, soul - everything about you is perfect to him. He wants to be with you, wants to watch you and feel you and fuck you until he dies.

He makes you come again, slamming into your g-spot again and again until you’re clenching around him, bawling your eyes out as pleasure overtakes you. You don’t want this, it isn’t right, he’s a bad man.

Your clenched pussy drives him too close to the edge, and Kirishima is crying out, chanting, begging you to let him cum. 

As if you were in control.

The man isn’t necessarily expecting a response, lost in the fantasy of his beautiful little mommy ordering him to come in her little pink pussy, to clean her up afterwards while she grinds her foot against his softening cock while he licks his cum out of her.

It’s that thought that has him spilling inside you, choking up at the sensation of your warm walls milking out his cum.

You feel so good, he loves you so much.

He knows you don’t love him back, knows you hate what he’s doing to you, hate the pleasure he forces from your body.

But Kirishima can pretend you don’t.

He’ll teach you to love him.

[triplexdoublex]

I’ll Try Anything At Least Once

Pairings: Colson x Reader 

Warnings/Tags:  Watersports/piss kink/wetting , omorashi/desperation, biting, praise kink

A/N: Here have another one of my older reworked fics while I finish up the other 3 fics i have going right now. I promise the next one will be brand new.

“Baby, you’ve barely touched your water,” Colson says from where he sits across from you at the table of your favorite casual restaurant, located in your local mall. You’re there celebrating your two-year anniversary.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, it’s just that this steak is so damn good,” you say as you reach for your water glass. Colson watches intently as you take a large gulp, almost finishing the whole glass. “Guess, I was thirsty,” you laugh. “The food’s delicious, but it’s definitely salty.”

“Aye, after dinner, I was thinking we could go get you some new lingerie and I, uh… I kinda wanna try something new tonight.” He smiles as he refills your water glass from the small, glass pitcher on the table.

“Ooooh, like what?” you smirk. “You know I’ll try anything at least once.”

“You’ll see,” he teases. “Now drink up.”

You’re not sure what his current obsession with your water intake is, but you drink nonetheless. By the time the waitress returns to see if you would like dessert, you’ve finished your second glass. Colson immediately refills it as you look over the dessert menus.

“Colson, what the hell is up with you and the water tonight?” you ask, perplexed by this odd behavior. “For God’s sake, I’m about to piss myself.”

He digs his teeth into his bottom lip, his  blonde eyelashes fluttering closed briefly at your words.

“Maybe that’s the point,” he speaks, his voice low and lust-filled.

“Colson, you can’t be serious,” you practically laugh, taken aback.

“I am,” he admits with blushing cheeks, “but if you’re not into it, just forget I said anything, alright?” he states, sounding slightly defensive.

“Hey… no, look, I’m sorry,” you apologize as you reach out to stroke his arm. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all. I meant what I said earlier; I’ll really try anything at least once.” You smile apologetically and can’t help but to be intrigued by his kink.

You decide to forego dessert and make your way to the lingerie store where Colson picks out a simple, yet sexy, silky, white bra and panty set with lace detail.

“These are gonna look so good on you when they’re all soaked and clinging to your pussy,” he whispers seductively in your ear from behind you, placing them in your hand. You never thought you’d be into this kind of thing, and maybe it’s just the lust in Colson’s voice or the three cups of water weighing heavy in your bladder right now, but something deep in your pelvis stirs at his words.

Colson stays close behind you as you head to the cashier. The line is long, as it always is when the holidays are near, and the need to use the bathroom is getting stronger with each passing minute. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you sway your hips in desperation, trying to resist the urge to physically hold yourself in public. Suddenly you feel Colson’s hand on your hips, stilling their movements.

“Baby, you’re killing me right now,” he says softly, digging his chin into your shoulder from behind you. “Feel what your little dance is doing to me?” he breathes in your ear, discreetly pressing his clothed erection against your backside.

“Colson!” you warn, reaching for the various lotions and body sprays that line checkout area, smelling them to distract yourself and ultimately picking out a few to purchase.

When it’s finally your turn to check out, you place your items down and brace yourself with your hands on the counter, crossing your legs at the ankles and squeezing your thighs together, effectively holding back the stream threatening to run down your legs.

After the transaction is complete, Colson takes the bag, strategically carrying it in front of himself. “Let’s head to the bathroom,” he suggests as you exit the store, heading back into the mall.

You’ve never felt more relieved to hear those words, but the feeling is short lived. Once inside the single stall family restroom, you begin frantically pulling down your panties as you make your way to the toilet, but Colson stops you.

“Unh-uh, that’s not what we’re here for,” he teases with a smirk, stepping between you and your destination, palm pressed against your shoulder.

“Colson, please!” you plead, clutching at your bare crotch, panties halfway down your thighs.

“No,” he answers sternly, “but feel free to keep begging. I love how needy and desperate you sound,” he says huskily. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

“Then why are we here?” you groan, beginning to pull your panties back up.

“Aye, not so fast,” Colson places his hand on the crotch of your panties, stopping you from pulling them back up. “Baby, these are all wet,” he says, caught off guard by his accidental findings. “It better not be…” he pauses, trailing his hand up your inner thigh and discovering your slick folds. “Mmmmm, good girl. You like holding yourself for me, don’t you?” he teases, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Maybe,” you smirk with blushing cheeks, unable to tell where the pressure of your full bladder stops and the pooling sexual desire in your abdomen begins, the two sensations mingling as one. Colson smiles, reaching into the pink striped bag of your purchases and pulling out the matching bra and panty set he bought you.

“Here put these on,” he says, tossing them to you. “That’s why I brought you in here.”

“Now?” you question. “Why don’t we just wait until we get home?”

“Cuz when we get home, I just wanna take them off you… after you wet them for me, that is.” 

You do as you’re told, stripping out of your current undergarments and replacing them with the new ones as Colson watches intently, resting against the wall.

“You should help me with this while we’re in here too,” he teases, cupping his obvious erection, showing off the large outline through his jeans.

You squat down in front of him, not wanting to kneel on the public restroom floor, the positioning making you all the more desperate for relief. Colson unzips his jeans and you tug them down to mid-thigh, followed by his boxers, his bare ass pressed against the cold tile wall.

With one hand on the back of your head and the other grasping his length, he guides himself into your mouth. You bob over his length half-assed and sloppily, too focused on clenching your muscles trying not to pee. Colson notices your lack of skill at the moment, taking over and pumping himself, but he doesn’t mind. The sight of you squatting and squirming, hand pressed firmly to your core is enough to bring him close to the edge.

Assisting the best you can, you lick and suck on the head of Colson’s length as he strokes himself, occasionally slapping the tip against your tongue. The fullness of your bladder is becoming close to unbearable, and you let out a muffled, high-pitched whine as a strong urge to release washes over you, causing you to clutch yourself with both hands. The sound and sight is enough to send Colson over the edge.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna c-cum,” he chokes out in a barely audible, throaty moan as he guides his length to the back of your tongue, spilling down your throat. You do your best to swallow every drop, running the tip of your tongue over his slit, making him shudder before pulling him from your mouth completely.

“Listen, I’m all for pissing myself for you baby, really I am, but I’d rather it not happen by accident in public, so if we could head home now, that would be great,” you practically beg as you throw your dress back on.

“Oh, you’re no fun.,” he teases, doing a slight jump to get his skinny jeans back up over his ass and zipping them.

“Colson, please!” you plead, bouncing in desperation.

“Kidding, kidding,” he laughs. “Let’s go before you make me hard again.”

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

“Are you doing that on purpose?” you ask, ripping your seatbelt off on the way home.

“Doin’ what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Hitting every damn pothole so my seatbelt squeezes my bladder!”

“Maybe,” he laughs, “But come on, baby, put your seatbelt back on. I’ll stop. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says seriously, reaching across your body to grab the belt, one hand on the steering wheel.

“Fine,” you answer, taking the belt from his hand and buckling yourself back in, all while giving Colson a warning eye.

He keeps his word but the ride seems to last forever, and you don’t know how much longer you can hold it. You spend the rest of the drive with your hands squeezed tightly between your shaking legs, and your head leaned back on the headrest with eyes clenched tight.

“Baby, we’re home,” Colson says, lightly grazing his hand over your lower abdomen, breaking you from your concentration. You moan at his touch, the light pressure causing you to feel like you’re about to piss or cum, you can’t distinguish which. Colson helps you out of the car and into the house.

“Baby please, I can’t hold it any longer,” you beg the second you’re through the front door.

“Fine,” Colson says, quickly pulling your black dress up and over your head, tossing it to the floor and throwing your lingerie clad body over his shoulder.

“Colson!” you shriek, the pressure from his shoulder against your bladder forcing a trickle to run down his chest and darken a large spot on his heathered grey shirt.

“Mmmm, baby,” Colson moans at the warm sensation. “Come on, we’re almost there, you can hold it. You’re doing so good,” he praises, as he carries you up the stairs. You’re not exactly sure what his plan is, but you assumed whatever he had planned for this would take place in the bathroom, so you’re more than surprised when he carries you to the bedroom and tosses you down on the sheets of your unmade bed.

“Colson, I told you I can’t hold it anymore,” you plead, laying on your back with your knees tightly pressed together.

“I know… go,” he smirks, palming himself through his jeans.

“Here?! b-but the bed…” you exclaim, sitting up suddenly, grabbing at the sheets on either side of you.

“Don’t worry about the bed baby, we got one of those mattress protectors when we bought the mattress and I’ll take care of the sheets myself,” he promises. “Now, come on baby, wet for me,” he begs, as he pushes your panties to the side, inserting two fingers.

“Colson, fuck,” you whimper as his fingers curls upwards inside of you, forcing small spurts of urine out.

“Come on, more baby, let it all go,” he says, pulling his fingers from you, licking the wetness that’s gathered on them as he pulls his length from his jeans with his free hand and begins pumping himself.

You close your eyes and relax your bladder expecting a large gush, but only an agonizingly slow stream starts to flow due to the pressure in your overfull bladder. Colson strokes himself, watching and praising you with half-lidded eyes as what’s left of the dry spots on your white panties turn wet and translucent, clinging to the contours of your folds.

After a few moments, the pressure lessens and the flow picks up into a gush, flowing through the white fabric of your panties in a stream, soaking the bed around you. The relief is almost orgasmic, causing you to moan and whimper as your bladder finishes emptying.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. So good for me baby,” Colson praises when you finish, his eyes glazed over by lust in a way you’ve never seen them before.

He turns you over onto your hands and knees, moaning as he runs his hands over the wet fabric, admiring how they cling to your backside before pushing them to the side and entering you quickly. Guttural moans of your name form in his throat as he harshly grips your hips, slamming into you at a relentless pace. The wetness of your panties transfers to the skin of his pelvis with every thrust. He takes notice, gliding his hand over the moisture on his skin.

“Oh, shit!” he cries out, driven insane with pleasure at the feeling and picking up the pace, fucking you harder than he ever has in the two years you’ve been together.

“Yeah, baby, just like that. Fuck me, fuck, me!” you chant, loving his new-found intensity. He continues thrusting at a fast pace, sounds of colliding wet skin echoing throughout the room.

“Oh God, Colson, fuck,” you cry out, gripping the sheets as orgasm nears.

Leaning over your back, Colson reaches around to your clit, rubbing fast-paced circles through your soaked panties. Kissing roughly along the width of your shoulders, he sinks his perfect teeth into the crook of your neck, hard enough to leave marks as he cums. You bounce back on his length as he rides out his orgasm with slow, hard thrusts, achieving your climax moments later which jolts through you like lightning.

“Oh fuck!” you scream as your arms weaken, your face sinking into the pillow.

Colson sings your praises of how amazing you did for him as he peppers your back with gentle kisses before pulling out. You roll to the dry side of the bed and Colson collapses on top of you, the both of you out of breath.

“Oh God, baby, thank you.” Colson expresses his gratitude as he kisses your neck. “You have no idea how much that got me going.”

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.” you tease. “Let’s just say we will definitely be doing this again.