#but that's a tall order when your shoulders don't work

[silcoitus]

Could you write a (young)Silco/Disabled Reader, who for the most part is able to walk just fine with the help of a brace but on bad days they’ll bring out the cane and on really bad days a wheelchair but is still insistent on trying to do things no matter how much they shouldn’t?

I tried to be as sensitive as I could towards reader's disability. I hope it comes across sincere and that I haven't committed any faux pas. If I have, please let me know in the comments and I will happily revise. Like young Silco in this fic, I will quickly apologize and learn if given the opportunity.

A Voice Like Yours

Masterlist | AO3 link

Rating: Mature

Tags: gn!reader x silco; disabled reader; Silco; Felicia; Connol; Vander; Benzo; fluff; angst; hurt/comfort;

Word count: 3.5k

Beta reader: @juniper-sunny

You would've liked to get to the market sooner, but getting out of bed was particularly hard today. Typically, you're able to handle just fine with only your brace. And when that doesn't work, your cane will usually suffice. But with rough sleep last night and a flare-up this morning, you opt for using your chair today to get to the market. Just until you can get your bearings again.

With your later arrival, you're unable to beat the morning rush, sandwiched between what seems like every citizen of the Undercity. Most give you a wide berth, but others shove past you unceremoniously. You're used to it by now, but your fatigue plasters a permanent scowl on your face as you try to find your usual vendors.

As you make your way through your shopping list, the bag sitting on your lap getting slightly heavier with each new stall you visit, you feel a bit better. (You used to keep your bag slung over the back of your chair, but stopped when some asshole stole it.)

You're on the last item on your list when you get settled in front of one wooden stall and make small talk with the shopkeep. He greets you by name and grabs your usual order, setting it down on the counter before turning his back to fix something. You try to reach for your purchase, but it's just a touch too far. You're about to move your chair closer when a stranger waltzes up and plucks the bag off the counter.

“Hey! That's mine!” you protest, rolling closer to him.

“I know,” he replies, handing it to you. “I was just getting it for you.”

You snatch it and shove it into your canvas bag, still frowning at the tall, slender man with long raven hair. 

“I'm perfectly capable of doing it on my own.” You grab your wheels and in one fluid, practiced motion, reposition your chair away from him. You start to leave, but pause, looking over your shoulder. “I don't need your help.”

Out of your periphery, you see him raise both hands in surrender, but from this angle, you can't tell if his expression is sincere or sarcastic. You try to shake it off, ready to go back home and wash your hands of the interaction. 

The Undercity is supposed to be the city of self-reliance.

So why does everyone still treat you like a child?

The following day fares better. You bring your cane (just in case) for your shift at the shop, settling into your stool at the cash register. You're reading a book during the slower hours when a customer comes in and sets a stack of papers down onto the counter. Your eyebrows furrow at the flyers and you lift your eyes to see a familiar face.

“If it's alright, I'd like to add these to your bulletin board,” the man from yesterday says, not even looking at you. He leans on the counter, looking out the large windows to the street. “Got a meeting coming up and want to get the word out.”

Finally, he turns to you.

You watch as his face cycles from apathy to confusion to recognition. His eyes dart down to your stool and the surrounding area, seemingly looking for your wheelchair. When he comes up empty, he looks back up to your face, head tilting to the side.

“I didn't need it today,” you preemptively answer. “Not that I owe you an explanation.”

“Right, right, sorry,” he's quick to apologize. “I didn't mean to insinuate—”

“That I'm faking?”

“No! Never!” he says, hands coming up in surrender, again. His shoulders sag forward slightly and he runs his fingers through his hair, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “I'm sorry, can we start again?”

He puts his hand out. You eye it warily.

“Hi, I'm Silco.”

Your lips thin, but you take his hand.

“Hi, Silco.” You give him your name.

“I would like to put these up on your bulletin board,” he says, nodding to the corkboard behind you.

You put your hand out.

“Only two,” you instruct. “One here and the one in the back.”

He starts to hand you the flyers, but then pulls back.

“I can put up the one out back,” he offers.

“It's fine,” you say, insisting with a gesture of your hand. “I can do it.”

Silco looks at your hand then up to your face, understanding slowly spreading across his features. He nods, mostly to himself, as he hands you the papers.

“Of course.”

You take one flyer and a thumbtack from the corner of the board, stabbing it in place with a bit more force than necessary.

“You should come,” Silco says from behind you. “We could use a voice like yours in the Children.”

You turn back to him, eyebrows furrowed.

“Just think about it,” he says softly, gathering the pile of papers. With a small, almost apologetic, smile, he leaves.

You lift the remaining flyer, scanning it.

Children of Zaun 

Town Hall

Wednesday 

4pm

The Last Drop 

“Hey, Monte?” you call out. “If it's okay, I think I'm gonna head out a little early.”

Your boss peeks his head out from one of the aisles, his glasses slightly crooked on his nose.

“That's fine,” he reassures you, calling your name. “We're pretty slow today; I can take it from here.”

You take your cane from behind the counter, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

“Thanks! I'll see you tomorrow!”

You make your way to The Last Drop, having spent a couple days wrestling internally about whether or not to go. You had heard of the Children of Zaun, but not really given them much thought. From what you'd heard, they were a ragtag group of misfits posing as rebels, claiming to want independence from Piltover. You had rolled your eyes in disbelief at the notion. Besides, you have plenty of your own concerns to worry about; it's not as if you have time to take up some righteous cause.

But Silco's words ring in your ear, propelling you forward.

“We could use a voice like yours in the Children.”

What did he mean by that? “Like yours”—what’s that supposed to mean? So they want some sort of token disabled person on their crew to make them look better or something?

But the sincere remorse on his face and the softness of his tone told you otherwise. 

Maybe he meant it.

Maybe he does actually want to hear what you might have to say.

So you walk up to The Last Drop, hand clutching your cane, holding it less like a walking stick and more like a blunt force weapon (which it has had to be, on occasion). Taking a deep breath, you pull your shoulders back, and push open the door.

You're by no means early, but there's no way this is the entire gang. You can count on exactly one hand the number of people that showed up. There's Silco, standing with his back to you, what looks to be a couple sharing a table, and then two larger men standing by the bar. You're immediately filled with regret and start to turn back around, until you hear someone call your name.

“You came!” Silco says, more excitement in his voice than you'd expect. “Hey, this is who I told you about.”

Four pairs of eyes turn to you and you feel rooted on the spot.

You shoot Silco a look.

He told them about you? What could he possibly have said?

He gestures you forward, leading you to the couple at the table. You take one of the empty seats and Silco sits in the one next to you. He leans forward, one forearm barred along the wooden surface as he addresses the couple.

“I told you we were missing something,” he starts. “That this—” he gestures to the group, forefinger pointed and moving in a circle, “wasn't enough.”

That same forefinger comes down, tapping incessantly on the table.

“If we're to be the voice of Zaun, we need to make sure that everyone has a spot at the table.”

The woman glances at you before turning back to Silco, nodding slightly as she speaks.

“Okay…” she nods a little more, as if the thought is taking root in her head. “Yeah. That makes sense.” She turns toward you. “My name is Felicia and this is Connol,” she says, leaning her head toward the man next to her. 

“Felicia. Connol. Nice to meet you.”

You shake hands with both of them.

“Would you like a drink?”

You pull your lips through your teeth and Felicia is quick to reassure you.

“Don't worry; it's on the house.” She straightens up, calling out to the large man behind the bar. “Vander! Some beer!”

“Get it yourself!” he calls back.

“Fuck you,” she laughs.

“Oy,” the other man says, bringing a tray over. “Watch yer language ‘round the new recruit.”

Felicia laughs.

“They’re an adult, Benzo; they can handle it.”

You look back at her and she offers you a smirk. You take the free mug of beer and Silco raises his up in toast.

“To the Children of Zaun.”

Felicia and Connol mirror the movement.

“The Children of Zaun!”

You lift your glass and say the words, though you don't take them to heart just yet. But as you bring the mug to your lips, you can't help the small smile from creeping onto your face.

Every Wednesday, you leave the shop to go to the bar. And every Wednesday, you become a little more smitten.

With the cause.

With the man that introduced you to it.

The more you get to know Silco, the more you realize your first impression of him wasn't a good representation of the man he is. 

Or, perhaps, maybe it was the perfect representation.

A man who only wants to help, eager to uplift those around him. So excited to do so that he steps on a few toes in the process. He's stumbling and clumsy with his help, but he's quick to apologize and quick to learn. 

It doesn't take long for you to realize—he’s that way with everyone. It wasn't just you and it wasn't just because you're disabled. He's always on alert for if someone could use a hand, always first to arrive when someone asks for assistance. That's just who he is.

And if this is one of the rebels trying to uplift the Undercity, the Nation of Zaun is in good hands.

Silco is keeping you company at the shop, following you around as you restock some items. He carries a crate of goods while you arrange them on displays, your discerning eye careful to make them look as appealing as possible.

You drop one of the small boxes and Silco is quick to bend down to grab it.

“Silco,” you warn, “What'd I say about helping without being asked?”

“Sorry, right,” he says, straightening up to let you retrieve it. “Force of habit.”

You grin up at him, chuckling. “I'm just fucking with you.”

With some assistance from him, you get out of your wheelchair and resume your place at the cash register. Silco takes the opportunity to sit in your chair, long fingers fiddling with the wheels. You laugh as he tries to maneuver the chair around the front of the shop.

“Have you learned any tricks on this thing?” he asks, trying to lean back and balance it so that his feet lift off the ground.

“It's a wheelchair, not a skateboard, you jackass.”

“That's a ‘no’ then,” he says, smirking. But the smirk is wiped clean off his face when the chair tumbles backwards, sending him crashing to the floor.

You let out a bark of a laugh at that, laughing even harder when he starts to groan.

“Serves you right!” You grab your cane, gingerly getting off the stool to help him back up. “If you broke my chair, I swear to Janna… Do you know how hard these are to get? I had to pay so much coin for it.” 

You point your cane at him threateningly, but he wraps his fingers around it and tugs, pulling you forward. A startled squeak at your throat, you fall on top of him, catching yourself just in time so you don't headbutt him.

“Silco—”

“Now we're both down here,” he teases, smirking.

“Wonderful,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “What a masterful plan.”

Something sparks behind Silco's ocean green eyes, something playful, mischievous.

“I'll say it is.”

And with that, he lifts his head, closing the distance between your lips. Your eyebrows lift and your eyes flutter closed, savoring the warmth of his mouth against yours. His hand comes up to tenderly cradle your face and you lean into the kiss, pressing your chest to his so you're flush with him. You don't know how much time has passed, but as you kiss him, you feel as light as a cloud, until—

“Hey!”

You straighten up, face red with blush.

“I don't pay you to swap spit with the customers,” Monte says, but there's no bite to his words. “Get up before someone trips on you.”

You laugh, pressing your forehead to Silco's. 

“Here.” You push yourself up, offering him a hand. “Let me help you.”

It’s been a while since you’ve had a friend group like this. Ever since the accident that caused your disability, no one seems to have the patience to deal with your rougher days, as if you’re holding them back.

It’s hard to not internalize that feeling.

But with Silco and the rest of the Children of Zaun, you feel different. Whereas before, it felt like your mere presence was a burden, you feel seen and appreciated. You feel heard.

When you tell Vander that the bathroom stalls are too tiny for your chair, he knocks the dividers down to make room.

When you lament about the small step outside the front door, Benzo throws together a small wooden ramp. 

More and more, The Last Drop feels like home, though going to the basement or the upstairs office still eludes you. It’s not that you can’t. It’s more that you’re worried that you’ll have to ask for help to get you back on the ground floor should you get stuck in either place. But, there’s never really been any reason for you to visit either floor, so you’re content to stay in the main bar area, occasionally ducking into the back room when the crowd gets a little too loud.

It’s on one such trip to the storage room that Silco finds you, huddled on the floor, your cane propped up next to you. Your knees are pulled up to your chest and your palms pressed flat against your ears, trying in vain to drown out the sounds of the bar. You had made the mistake of visiting during peak hours and didn’t have the energy to go all the way back home. You thought you could power through it until the customers dwindled, but it became too much. So, you retreated to the back room, holding back tears.

“We have one more!” Silco calls over his shoulder as he opens the door, talking to Vander who tends the bar. “After this, we’ll need to get more.”

He turns over his shoulder to see you on the floor. Immediately, his voice lowers and he crouches down to get eye level, your name a reassuring coo on his throat.

“Hey… are you okay?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut.

“Okay, just… give me a second.”

You hear him pick up a crate of bottles. The door swings open, letting in the raucous noise from outside. You let out a whimper as the door swings closed. After a few tense minutes, the door opens again and you hear footsteps approaching you.

“Hey, I’m back,” Silco coos. There’s shuffling as he moves to sit next to you. “What do you need?”

It’s a sentence you practically trained him to ask. With his tendency to charge forward offering the help he thinks you need, you managed to finally get him to learn to ask you first. 

It’s a small gesture, but at this moment, it’s everything.

“I need…” Your breath is shaky, your eyes holding back tears. “I need quiet. And— And it’s too far to walk home.”

Silco shifts, moving to crouch in front of you, hands on either of your shoulders. He squeezes them and you look up to see a tender expression on his face. Not pity or condescension. Concern. Sincere, genuine concern.

“It’s much quieter upstairs in the office,” he offers. “Do you think you can make it?”

Your lips tighten. It’s hard to think with so much noise; you can barely hear your own thoughts. It doesn’t help that you can feel a flare up coming on, pain shooting through your legs.

“I… I don’t know.”

You watch Silco chew on the inside of his mouth, thinking. 

“I could… carry you.”

You shoot a look at him, equal parts indignation and humiliation.

“I know, I know. It’s not ideal.” He looks around the storage room as if he’ll find an alternative answer. “But the sooner we get you out of here, the sooner you can feel better.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, wrestling internally. The sting behind your eyes is threatening to push past your defenses. Finally, wordlessly, you nod.

“Okay,” he says, tone firm. 

His ocean green eyes dart around your body, trying to figure out how best to pick you up that keeps your dignity intact. But before he can reach a decision, you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him to yourself, holding him in a tight embrace.

“Oh! Hey…” He melts into the hug, bringing both arms around your back, squeezing you gently. “It’s okay.” He rubs your back with one hand, palm warm against your shirt. “It’s okay. We all need help sometimes.”

“I did too much today,” you say into the crook of his neck, tears escaping your eyes. “I should’ve stayed home.”

“Shhhh…” he shushes, shifting his arms as he slowly rises to his feet, bringing you along. 

You manage to get to your feet, but your legs feel wobbly and unstable under your weight.

“Here, let me…” Silco bends down and hangs your cane over the crook of his elbow before bringing one arm behind your knees. “On three. One… two… three.”

You lift your legs up and he scoops you up in his arms, straightening to a stand. Instinctively, you wrap both your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.

“I got you,” he coos. “I’ve got you.” He takes one final look around the room before pushing the door open with his back. “We’ll go behind the bar; no one will even know.”

You nod, tears flowing in earnest now to stain Silco’s shirt.

You press one ear to the crook of his neck, trying to dampen the loud voices of the bar patrons. At that, Silco walks a little faster, making his way up the staircase. In his haste, he drops your cane on the landing.

“Shit! Sorry, I’ll go back for it,” he says, continuing forward.

After opening the door and carefully depositing you onto the plush red cushions of the couch, he darts out the door, returning with your cane in hand. He sets it on the coffee table in front of you before sitting next to you.

“There.” He rubs your hip as you lay on your side. “Is that better?”

You nod, reorienting yourself to rest your head on his lap. Silco settles on the couch, bringing one hand to your head, smoothing down your hair in soft reassuring strokes. His other hand grazes your cheek, wiping away your tears.

It’s finally quiet.

Your legs still ache, but it’s not as bad as it was before. You can feel the rise and fall of Silco’s chest against your back, his breathing a calming rhythm.

“Thank you, Silco,” you whisper.

“Of course,” he whispers back.

After a moment, he shifts, bending down to bring his lips to your temple. You smile at the touch, feeling warmth settle behind your ribs.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off. “I’ve never heard you apologize before and I don’t want to hear it now.”

The firmness in his voice has you turning your face to look up at him. There’s a resoluteness in his expression, a confidence you typically see reserved for Children of Zaun meetings. He looks off into the distance, as if seeing something that’s not there. A vision. A promise.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he continues. His chin dips and his ocean green eyes find yours. His eyebrows lift and his lips curl into a soft smile, full of pride and affection. “You’re perfect.”

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[krawdad]

Brain: you should make one of those desktop bellows operated organs

Me: I could attach a balloon to a melodica

Brain: I guess I'll take it

[dark-moonlust]

Bunny Teasing her Minotaur

Pairing: Minotaur x fem bunny reader

Summary: you tease your Minotaur boyfriend while he is on a business call. He teases you back

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, explicit smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v sex, big 🍆, lots 💦.

This is the full one-shot. It was posted first on Patreοn as my patrons get early access to my Tumblr posts! Enjoyyy!!!! Join me there for more exclusive content! 🖤

It was a quiet evening, save for the sounds of your boyfriend talking on the phone. He was sitting at his desk, focused on his call. And you lounged quietly on the plush sofa opposite his desk. His tall, powerful form was relaxed, his free hand playing with a nearby pen. His deep voice echoed through the room as he discussed company figures and strategies. You watched him, your eyes tracing his broad chest and his firm expression.

The day had been boring and he had been focused on work calls for hours. He was supposed to rest and spend some time with you. An idea sparked in your mind, heat stirring within you at what you were about to do.

Shifting on your seat, you sat with your thighs spread open; you wore nothing but an oversized hoodie of your boyfriend’s. Innocently, you slid your hands down your sides, between your legs and began to fondle your pussy. You opened your outer labia, exposed your entrance—

A hand slammed hard on the desk.

You jerked a little, a small smile on your lips. Your minotaur had taken notice of your mischief.

Indeed, he was watching you intensely, his brows furrowed.

Hiding a big grin, you continued the show, your fingers tracing your slit then up the bud of your clit. There you whined a little. And he did, too. His eyes were dark with desire, but he quickly cleared his throat and returned his attention to the call, his voice strict as he continued to speak. You thrust a finger into your pussy and then you heard a low growl.

“I have to hung up. I’ll review the documents and get back to you,” he said, his voice clipped. He ended the call and tossed the phone aside.

Your heart thundered when his eyes locked on you, his nostrils flared. You spread your legs wider, giving him a better view. You added a second finger inside your now drenched pussy, pumping them with deliberate slowness, showing off your slickness and puffy cunt.

In an heartbeat, he stood up, kneeling in front of you, eyes on your pussy.

“You want to play, bunny? Hm?” he growled, his large hands gripping your wrists and suckling your juices off your fingers.

“I was feeling lonely so I treated myself,” you said breathlessly. “Since you were too busy.”

His rough fingers traced your ears, a predatory smile spreading across his face. “I’m never too busy to fuck my bunny."

With practiced skill, he removed the hoodie from your body, your smooth body completely exposed beneath him. His hands kneaded your pert breasts, tongue flicking your swollen nipples. You arched and sought more friction but he stayed there, devouring your breasts, his tongue leaving red marks all over your chest.

It was blissful torture. Sweet torment.

His touches traveled low, leaving wet trails on your soft belly and into your bellybutton. Hands gripping under your ass, he brought you closer, draping your legs over his wide shoulders. His breath teased your folds before he buried his face in your pussy. You thrashed and wiggled but he kept you open to his shameless prodding, his tongue licking up your essence, his nose rubbing your clit.

“Keep your pretty cunt open for me,” he ordered bringing your fingers down to part the lips of your pussy.

Dazedly, you did that, drawing apart your outer labia and almost immediately a whimper left you when he licked a thick stripe up your pussy. He was relentless and you trembled, your fingers shaking, no longer baring your pussy to him.

“I said keep yourself open for me,” he ordered again, taking your hand and bringing it back down your folds.

With a soft nod, you obeyed, fingers opening your folds for him to devour. Time lost meaning as he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue then sucked at it. You squirmed, trying to get away but he kept his hold firm around you while he prodded your entrance, his tongue teasing you, but never quite dipping in.

He made you go breathier and breathier.

Suckling, teasing, prodding with his tongue. But never giving you what you craved. He always stopped when he sensed your orgasm building.

“Pl…ease,” you whimpered, your body trembling with need. “Please— hnn—n…. need you.”

“I want you to writhe and soak my face with your juicy cunt,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “You will not cum until I’m satisfied.”

And indeed you didn’t. He pleasured you but only to a point. He always drew back just in the nick of time. Restless and impatient you succumbed to him while he had his way with you. You very nearly sobbed and tugged impatiently at his shoulders.

“Too…mhh… too much!”

“That will teach your slutty pussy not to tease me again.”

“Sorry, baby,” you muttered, your eyes red and misty. “Wanted you so much—and you were so busy—“

“My little bunny wanted attention?” He drew back, his eyes sad. “Then I am to blame. Come little one. Your mate will give you what you need.”

And with that, he bent back down and began to suckle your poor clit in his warm mouth. This time he didn’t stop. His thumb added to the play and at the mere touch against your pussy, you came with a blissful cry, your whole body shaking, tears of joy at your eyes. It was the strongest, most intense orgasm and you rode it gratefully, his vibrating moans spurring you on.

You barely registered when he shifted, his pants were unfastened and his hard cock pulsed between your legs. Without a word, he thrust powerfully inside you and you cried out, hugging him tightly as he filled you to the brim. His veined shaft kissed your depths, fucking you fast and deep. The force of his slams made you see stars. You matched his movements, buckling and arching, your bodies moving in perfect harmony.

The room echoed with the sounds of you fucking— wet slaps, your moans and his growls.

Blindly, his lips captured yours and you tasted yourself in his sloppy demanding kiss. Your tongues brushed and tangled as both your pleasure rose higher and higher. You climaxed together, an explosion of sensations for both of you. He cried out your name as you milked his cock, a roar of satisfaction escaping his lips as he filled you with buckets of his seed.

“Well fucked and seed marked,” he drawled, his touch gentle as he stroked your ears, each movement making you melt further into his embrace.

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[ahgasegotarmy116]

BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook One Shot

Summary: You've been single for way too long and you're done with causal sex and all the drama that comes along with it...so why not try something new? Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook (idk man 😂) Word Count: 9.8k~ Warnings: Smut and Explicit language (obvi lmao) a/n: Okayyy it's finally here haha you guys really seemed to like the teaser so I hope this was worth the wait 🥰 p.s. barely edited per usual lol

"You seriously think I would actually get one of those?" I scoff, rolling my eyes at Ava. "What? You said you had been curious about it before, plus you said  you wanted to try something new" she responds, scrolling through the website as I lean in closer, trying to read the smaller print.

I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it before, "A sex bot though?" I cringe, the words feeling unnatural coming out of my mouth.

"What? There's no shame in trying one. From what I've heard it's a single person's best friend. You don't have to bother going out to clubs to find meaningless hookups or have to deal with the hassle of finding a no strings attached relationship, or a real relationship in general" she says, pointing out the pros for this situation.

"It's the new and improved fuck buddy. Plus it's not like you have to keep him. You can try it out for a while and decide after that. See, they have a two week trial period!" She says, continuing her efforts in trying to convince me.

"I don't know, doesn't it seem a little...embarrassing? I wouldn't want anyone to know that I have one. Plus, after scrolling through the pictures of them it makes me realize how scarily realistic they look" I say while I take over the mouse and click around on the website here and there.

"And? That's the point. Think of it like you're getting a crap ton of new sex toys of your choosing and it's all assembled perfectly and does exactly what you want it to and will learn everything about you and your body and is only focused on satisfying you" she says, slowly warming me up to it.

"Plus you never have to worry them wanting anyone but you. They're there to serve you and please you and when you're done you could pretty much power them down and go to sleep. Simple as that" she says, her mission on convincing me slowly coming to completion.

"I guess I could start out with a trial period or something" I say tentatively and she immediately starts placing the order.

"Okay and what do you want him to look like? You obviously want to be attracted to him since that's pretty much the whole point so you can either upload a picture, scroll through the options they have on hand or put in a description of them here" she says, clicking in the description box and handing me the laptop.

I sit with it on my lap for a while, watching the cursor blink over and over, waiting for my brain to come up with something until she gets impatient and takes it from me so she can start writing one herself.

"Tall but not too tall...let's say 5 foot 10. Dark brown hair, dark brown eyes that look innocent one moment but seductive the next" she lists off. "That's oddly specific" I laugh and she shakes her head. "I know you're obsessed with duality so shhh let me finish this up" she shushes and I watch her work her magic.

"Alright and done!" she says, handing me the laptop and letting me read through the description one last time before purchasing him. "Really?" I say, cocking a brow at her. "What? You don't like it?" she pouts thinking she got it down to a T. "I do like it, you're just so weird with these descriptions" I say and before she's able to refute it I list off a few of them.

"Abs that make me drool the moment I see them, Tattoo sleeve and hand tattoos so my necklace is pretty, a d- Ava are you serious?" I say scandalized by the last part, as if this wasn't all mortifying already. "What? That one guy you hooked up with had one and you said you liked it so..." she shrugs her shoulders. "A dick piercing" I mumble to myself while rubbing my temples, getting a headache from this whole ordeal.

"Whatever it's fine. Just do it before I change my mind" I say and wave her off while going to grab some wine and two glasses.

"Says he should be here by tomorrow afternoon" she say after going through the rest of the order form leaving me choke on air and her laughing at my reaction. "That fast?" I say after I've calmed down, plopping down on the couch next to her and pour each of us a glass. "Well yeah, the company's slogan is 'Your pleasure is our priority' and they offer overnight shipping on every order" she explains while grabbing the remote, pulling up Bridgerton for us to watch yet again.

I narrow my eyes at her and she looks over at me as if I was the one who's gone crazy. "What? I thought this might you know, refresh your memory on the things you always said 'Me and who?' about since 'Mr. Who' is coming tomorrow" she sing songs at the end and I roll my eyes again.

"Just remember to thank me next time you roll your eyes like that when he's all up in your guts tomorrow afternoon" she teases, taking a sip of her wine while mine nearly comes out of my nose. "AVA!" I scold her and she shrugs her shoulders, "Don't say I didn't warn you".

As the night goes by and we finish up the first half of the third season for the fifth time she gets ready to head home.

"You sure you don't wanna spend the night?" I ask and she shakes her head while she shrugs on her jacket. "No that's okay, I'm sure you've got a lot of things you might want to do to get ready for him so I'll leave you to it. I called an Uber so don't worry I'm not driving home tonight" she says and I nod my head, relieved that she's already got that plan in place.

"I'll come pick up my car sometime tomorrow okay?" she says and I smile before giving her a hug. "Text me when you get home" I say and she promises before walking out to the car. "Have fun tomorrow" she winks and I shake my head, waving her off once she gets in.

"Fun huh?" I chuckle, still in disbelief that I actually went through with it. I guess there's no harm in trying...right?

~~~~

I'm woken up out of a sound sleep by the doorbell ringing and I think for a second about who it might be while I rub the sleep out of my eyes. 

I reach for my phone on the nightstand to see if anyone asked if they could come over but when I see the text message telling me that he's being delivered soon I bolt to the door, not wanting to have to deal with the awkwardness of trying to get him redelivered.

I straighten myself out and take a deep breath for a second in an effort to compose myself and in the next I'm opening the door.

When I look out I'm met with the sight of a delivery man with a huge wooden crate next to him and my eyes widen at the sheer size of it. "Sign here please" he says, handing me the clipboard and I step aside so he can bring it in.

"Is right here okay?" he asks, rolling it a little further in so it's not blocking the entry way. "Um yeah that's fine, thanks" I say, handing the clip board back to him before he excuses himself and closes the door behind him.

The silence in this room is almost deafening once my focus is trained on the box that's going to shake up my life for at least the next two weeks, gulping at the thought of what I've gotten myself into.

'Maybe if I just leave it there it'll disappear' I think to myself, going into full on panic mode as I start to think a bit deeper about it, turning on my heel to go shower and get dressed but once I come back my theory is disproven when my eyes land directly on the wooden crate that is still in the middle of the room.

I take a deep breath before walking towards it and you would think it was about to attack me with the way I'm being so careful about it. Circling around, debating on whether or not I should open it.

'Ava won't know if I just leave it in the box right? I'll just keep it here for two weeks and then send it back. Simple as that' I think to myself, walking past it and over to the kitchen to make breakfast but the longer I look at it the more curious I get.

I grab the crowbar that the delivery man gave me after I'm finished eating and toy with it, the choice weighing heavier and heavier on my mind as time goes by.

I decide that just one peek at him won't do anyone any harm so I start to pry it open...except for I can't.

For the life of me I can't figure out how the fuck I'm supposed to open this thing and no matter how much I struggle with it it just won't budge. 'I should've asked the delivery man to open it for me' I grumble but I think I would die if a stranger found out that I bought a sex bot but even with this not so discreet packaging he is probably very well aware of what it might be.

There are only two things that could possibly come in a box this size. A robot (not necessarily a sex bot though since there are multiple different kinds for sale) or a casket and last time I checked caskets aren't all the rage right now and they definetly aren't something people get delivered to their home.

I sit on top of the box with a huff, accepting defeat. 'I thought this was supposed to be a stress reliever' I groan and take my phone out of my pocket to call Ava but I'm soon met with her already knocking on my door.

"I hope I'm not...interrupting something" she says with a sly smirk when she takes in my messy state from trying to get that damn box open. "Yeah I wish" I grumble and walk back over to the bane of my existence today and sit on top of it again.

"Oh sick! He's here already" she say, excitement written all over her face but it soon dissipates when she sees the mental struggle written all over my face.

"What's wrong? Aren't you gonna open it?" she asks, tilting her head and checking out the crowbar that's wedged into it, the only proof of any progress I've made. "Can't get it open?" she chuckles and I scoff, not bothering to answer her.

"Come on I'll help you" she says and I sigh before getting up and giving it one last shot. "Alright one, two, three" she says and we both push down on it, thankfully hearing a crack seconds later, telling us we're starting to make progress.

"Yes!" I say, finally feeling hopeful again and when we finally get the last part pried open after a good fifteen minutes of struggle we both sigh, happy that it's all over. "That was a workout in itself" she groans and slumps down on the couch while I do the same for a moment to catch my breath.

"So you gonna go take a look?" she asks while nodding towards the box, "Yeah just give me a second, I have to mentally prepare myself again" I say and she scoffs before going into the kitchen to get the both of us some water.

"Come on dude I helped you open it so you at least have to let me see him! I'm dying over here" she whines and I contemplate it for a second before getting up and grabbing the manual that is lying on top of all the fluffy packaging that's keeping him safe.

"'How to bang your robot' sounds informative" Ava giggles and I scoff, "That's not what it says dummy" I groan, thumbing through the manual until I find the most important piece of information, how to turn him on...well power him up so to say. The other part I guess I'll figure out later on when we're alone, although I'm sure she would love to watch.

I don't think I'll ever be able to understand how she can talk about things like sex so openly but I guess that's part of her twisted charm.

I brush some of the hay-like packaging off of him so the both of us can finally see what he looks like and my breath hitches once his face comes into view.

"I did a good job huh?" she says while elbowing me in the side, groaning when she hits the new tattoo I got on my ribcage the other day. "Oh shit I'm sorry! I forgot!" she says, apologizing but I brush it off as an accident and go back to inspecting him.

After taking more of the packaging off I finally find where his on switch is, which happens to be on his peck. "Really? I haven't even turned him on and I already have to violate him?" I say, hesitating for a second and then just rip the bandaid off so to say and lift his shirt up.

"Damn those abs are drool worthy" Ava whistles and I wack her in the arm, "You're not helping" I groan and find the plate that is covering the on switch, looking between him and her, contemplating on if I should go for it or not.

She nods her head, urging me to do it and after a second or two I give in and flip the switch and quickly and fix his shirt so he's all covered up again. He might be a robot but I still think he deserves to be treated with respect.

Even if his whole purpose is to just fuck me senseless.

We both watch for a second and hear a few of the mechanisms start to move about before he takes his first breath. Well...kinda.

He opens his eyes and blinks a few times and I know for a fact that Ava hit it right on the head in her description. She knows me too well at this point if she was able to create a Mr. Right for me with a few clicks on her keyboard.

That or he's just very attractive to begin with.

He looks around for a second before turning his head towards me, our eyes locking for the first of many times and I can already feel my cheeks start to heat up. 'I'm fucked'

"H-hello" I say tentatively, not really knowing exactly where to go from here. "Hello gorgeous" he say, his first words to me already driving me into cardiac arrest as I choke on air again.

"Ignore her, she's just a little shy. This is-" "Y/n, I know" he says, cutting Ave off since he's already programed to know who I am, her having submitted pictures of me along with my order.

"Yes, this is y/n and I'm her best friend Ava. It's nice to meet you" she says, distracting him as I gulp down the water she brought but unbeknownst to me he has his eyes trained solely on me, already studying my every move. "It's nice to meet you y/n" he says and Ava looks over at me, watching as I struggle to compose myself.

She doesn't take his unwillingness to pay attention to her as an insult because he's meant for me and only me so she smirks again, patting herself on the back for making this creation for me.

"Well I'll leave you guys too it then. Have fun" she says but I grab her arm and drag her down the hallway, not letting her get away that easily. "Why did you do that?" I hiss and she scrunches her brows together, confused as to what I'm referring to.

"You know, make him all flirty with that whole bad boy aesthetic" I say and she smirks. "Because I know that those are the kinds of guys that make you weak in the knees but you and I both know better and stay away from them" she points out and I can't deny it.

"Now you can have all the fun with zero consequences. You can alway alter him later if you'd like but from your reaction it seems as though I've done my job well" she says, peeking her head around the corner and watching him as he gets out of the crate.

"I swear both of you are going to be the death of me" I sigh leaving her placing a hand on my shoulder, faking consolation before turning on her heel to head out.

"Wait! Where are you going?" I ask, chasing after her and glancing back over at my very attractive playmate whose eyes are all over me again as I continue to stay close to her.

"I've got a boyfriend waiting for me at home remember? Now you go have fun" she says shooing me away and when she sees me glance over at him and back at her with mixed emotions written all over my face she pulls me in for a hug to hopefully help calm me down which thankfully helps...a little.

"At least let the guy get to know you. I'm sure he doesn't bite...unless you program him to" she whispers the last part directly into my ear and I push her off me, rubbing away the ticklish feeling that she gave me which has her chuckling.

"It was nice meeting you" she yells over to him but she's not given a response again. "I guess I forgot to add good manners to his list of attributes" she mumbles and I roll my eyes. "That wouldn't really fit the bad boy look you gave him now would it?" I throw back and she laughs, unbothered by my curt behavior which stems from the panic I've had since he first spoke to me.

"Love you loser" she says and I mutter back a similar sentiment, closing the door behind her and resting my forehead against it before dealing with the very temping man in my living room but when I turn around I realize he's somehow managed to sneak up on me.

"What the-" I say, holding my hand over my heart to make sure it somehow doesn't jump out of my chest from the scare he's given me.

"Now that we're finally alone, I guess I can properly introduce myself" he says, resting a hand against the door and using the other one to caress my face before tilting my chin up so I keep my eyes trained on him.

"I'm Jungkook and from my understanding you're in need of some...attention" he says, his hand tracing down my body from my jaw to my neck, down my arm and rests on my waist. Nothing too sexual as of yet but enough to get my heartbeat racing even faster than it was before.

"I-" I start off, my voice cracking before clearing my throat and starting again, my flustered nature amusing to him, "I guess you could say that" I say and his grip on my waist tightens a bit causing my breath to hitch, the warmth radiating from his skin feeling so human.

Everything about him seems human. From his eyes that I could get lost in, to his lips that have two silver hoops through the bottom to all the other piercings in his ears. I marvel at how his scent is something that I already find intoxicating, his presence itself making me feel so small and I can't help but want to stare at him all day, even the swirls of ink on his forearm seem so real. It makes me wonder how someone like him could be created.

"I take it that my appearance is to your liking" he startles me again, a smug look on his face and I can tell already that she's got his personality down to a tee. "Um yeah. I uh, I guess you could say that" I stumble over my words and he laughs, that cocky fucking laugh that the guys that know they're hot do but I don't mind it.

Not this time. Not with him.

"Tell me love, would you like some of that...attention now or later" he says, leaning forward and whispering it in my ear, placing a kiss under it, making me shudder.

Feeling him smile against my skin makes me want him to fuck me on this floor right now but I know I can't do that. I know I'm not ready for that yet.

"W-why don't we start later? I kinda wanna talk to you first" I say and he runs his nose along the column of my neck, making me lose my train of thought for a moment.

"We can talk later if you want. I wouldn't mind learning more about you in other ways first" he says, his tempting nature almost making me give in before I finally regain my willpower and slip out from under his arm, quickly walking towards the couch to sit down.

"No let's talk first" I say and I can hear that same cocky laugh come out of him before he pushes off the door and makes his way over, sitting way closer than necessary but luckily I have some space to scoot away from him so I can turn to face him instead.

He drapes an arm over the couch while his other hand rest on my bare knee, again nothing sexual but I take note of how he already feels the need to at least touch me in some way, something I know I will never get used to since things like that have always given me a fluttery feeling in my stomach.

I shouldn't have worn a dress today...

He waits patiently for me to say something with his eyes focused on me and I try my hardest to remember exactly what I wanted to say but I start to realize that I just ended up using this as an excuse to buy more time before going any further with this. I know why I bought him and what his purpose is but damn!

"So um, I know you know my name already but I'm y/n and it's nice to meet you. How old are you? Well...I guess I should ask how old did they make you? No I'm sorry this is weird just yeah tell me a bit about yourself if you don't mind" I say and hope that they programed some sort of back story into him and he's not a blank canvas and luckily my prayers are answered.

"Well I'm twenty six and I'll be turning twenty seven on September first. I like tattoos, piercings, motorcycles and boxing. I was made custom for you so I don't have any other outside experiences besides interacting with the people who double checked me at the factory as well as your friend that was just here. So as far as that goes, you're the only person I've had a real conversation with. Was there anything else you'd like to know about me? I can run though some of the features I have if you'd like" he says starting to get up to what I assume is get undressed but I grab onto his wrist and immediately stop him.

"No! I mean no, let's save that for later. I'm sure you'll figure out what will please me as things...progress between us" I say, not really knowing how exactly to phrase it. "So you'd like me to learn your body through experience?" he asks and my cheeks flush at the thought and all I can manage to do is nod before my eyes go wide as his hand slides up my thigh.

"Well I can assure you I'm very eager to learn. I may not look it but I rather enjoy studying when I have such a gorgeous subject to focus on" he says, his hand somehow having slipped under my dress.

"We um, we'll have plenty of time for that" I say, placing my hand on top of his to make sure it doesn't trail up any further. And again I'm so surprised at how human he feels, it's something that I expected but I didn't realize that he would feel this real.

He huffs and nods sitting back to give me some more space, not wanting to make me feel uncomfortable but still wanting to fulfill his duty to me. I notice the change in his expression and I rush to explain myself since I don't want there to be any sort of misunderstandings between us.

"I'm not saying this because I don't want you, you know that right?" I ask and he shakes his head not completely understanding since he's programed for one sole purpose upon opening. "Am I doing something wrong?" he asks, wanting to make changes to his behavior so he can make sure he's doing what I want and servicing me well.

"You're not doing anything wrong I promise. I'm- well I'm just a little bit nervous and I get flustered easily. I don't really know how this should go so I wanted to take it a bit slower" I say and he nods his head and I can see that there's almost a mechanical glow flickering behind his eyes which I can only assume is something that happens when he alters his behaviors based on my liking.

"I do like the way you've been treating me but I'd like to work up to that...if that makes sense" I say and he nods again and once I've stopped speaking my mind on it he finishes up his reprograming and looks back over at me, his seductive eyes a little bit softer now which somehow makes me even more flustered.

"Better?" he asks, his low sultry voice switching to one that's more playful, his teasing nature a clear want for me still but a lot more manageable this time. "Better" I echo, giving him a soft smile and another once over before realizing that I haven't said much about myself in return.

"Sorry, I guess I should tell you a bit about myself as well" I say but before I can start he's already listing off things like my birthdate and the fact that I'm only a year younger than him as well as my interests and hobbies.

"Wow that uh, that order form was a lot more detailed than I thought it was" I say and he laughs. "Weren't you the one that filled it out?" he asks curiously, tilting his head to the side, the first glimpse of innocence that I've seen all day.

"Well kinda. Ava was the one who did it and I just kinda glanced over at it once it came to the physical appearance but uh, she kinda came up with all of that too" I admit and he nods his head, taking in all that I've told him.

"So is my personality not to your liking? I can always instruct you on how to reprogram me more thoroughly" he offers and my heart breaks at that. "No Jungkook I don't want to change you. I think we just have to take a second to get used to each other. Your personality is to my liking because..." I trail off, weighing on whether or not I should say this but go for it anyway. He's a robot right? There's no harm in being honest with him.

I take a deep breath before trying to finish my statement, clearing my head so I can formulate it right. "Everything about you is to my liking because I am extremely attracted to you" I admit and look at my lap, not being able to face him. This is what he's here for though right? I'm meant to be attracted to him and he's meant to fulfill my desires so why do I feel shy admitting this to him?

The next thing that happens takes me by surprise as he hooks his finger under my chin and tilts it up before placing a kiss on my lips, one that I can only label as a perfect first kiss. My eyes go wide when I realize that I just kissed a robot but something about it feels so natural...and that's the part that scares me.

He leans back and gauges my reaction and when he sees that I was not displeased with the choice he made he leans in and kisses me again, and again, and again until I'm the one that's started to take control.

I place my hand on his shoulder and push him back but don't break the contact between us and when he realizes what I'm doing he grabs my hips and guides me onto his lap, the synthetic muscles of his thighs feeling so real.

From the way his hands are exploring my body and even the way he tastes on my tongue everything about him feels...human.

I need to stop thinking. I just need to enjoy this, enjoy him and when his hands move from resting on my hips to sliding down and grabbing my ass all thoughts of him being anything but real flee.

Our lip lock is broken once I'm gasping for air and he trails his kisses down my neck and presses his lips against the place he first kissed me, making me shiver again and he takes note of that, learning through experience just as he said.

"You're sensitive here aren't you?" He teases and if this taunting tone is the one he uses to gather intel on me them I'm screwed. He could literally do anything to me right now and I'd fold. What is it about him that's driving me insane when we've done almost nothing?

He bites down on that spot when I don't answer and when I moan instead of a cry of pain he gets his answer. "That's what I thought" he chuckles and continues his ministrations, touching me here and there and trying to garner other sounds and reactions out of me.

"J-jungkook" I stutter out and he hums against my skin while he sucks marks into it, no doubt wanting to experiment with my body. Licking, kissing, sucking every bit of bare skin that's exposed to him. "What is it gorgeous?" he asks, kissing the mark he's made before leaning back against the couch to look at me.

"B-bedroom?" I stutter out and he smirks as he responds. "You sure you don't wanna ride me right here?" he says and my breath hitches, not expecting him to be like this. "This view is way too good to give up on" he says, his hands gripping my thighs while his thumb rubs circles against my skin.

"Be a good girl and ride me yeah?" he rasps in my ear, kissing my neck making me want to melt into him, everything about this making me dizzy.

He makes the decision for me as he slips his hand under my dress again while he uses the other to hold onto my neck and pulls me down to kiss him again. He plays with the hem of my underwear and pulls on it and snaps it back into place making me bite on his lip.

"Ow!" I groan gaining me a deep chuckle that makes my scoldings die in my throat. "I know you're a little slut for pain no? Something about you just screams the desire to be put in your place" he says and my eyes widen. I've never told anyone about that but this man...robot has known me for less than an hour and is already aware of it.

"We can experiment with that next time because right now I just want you to ride my fingers. You can do that for me right gorgeous?" he says, using that word as a pet name now. I swear if he calls me that all the time I'm gonna lose it.

He leans back and looks at me, taking note of all of my reactions and when he cocks a brow at me I nod my head right away. "Yeah" I say, my voice sounding foreign to me but thankfully that was enough for him as he tells me to stand up and take my underwear off.

"Keep the dress on. You look so pretty after getting all dolled up for me. I would hate to make you take it off" he says and I swear everything about him is driving me insane. If he wasn't a robot I would be in serious trouble.

"Come here" he says, beckoning me over with one finger and once I get close enough he grabs me by my hips and makes me straddle him.

He takes one of his hands off and slides it down my thigh painfully slow and I find myself getting wetter at the feeling, getting teased by him feeling totally new.

Once his fingers trace up and down my folds he hums in satisfaction. "So wet for me already and I've barely touched you" he taunts and I squirm, needing him to do something. No matter how much I love his teasing I decide seconds later that I need him now.

"Please" I let out and he smiles before circling his finger around my entrance still toying with me. After a another minute of this torture he finally speaks up as if he had been waiting for me. "Come on gorgeous, you asked for it. Ride my fingers so I can see how pretty you look" he says, barely dipping a finger inside of me, coaxing me into letting my inhibitions go.

I sink down on it and I let out a whine, not having been touched like this in a while making me sensitive. "That's it, keep going love, you're doing so well" he rasps in my ear and I lift my hips up a bit before sinking back down on it again, a sloppy pace being set in and he chuckles at my efforts.

"Someone hasn't been fucking my baby properly huh? Needed to get me to do it right? You're so pretty though, looking so concentrated and frustrated because you can't go fast enough" he taunts, adding another finger when I sink back down making me throw my head back from the stretch, my want to ride him only increasing.

"Gotta make you work for it a little" he says, finally adding a third finger making me moan his name in response. "Fuck I love watching you fall apart like this" he curses and takes his fingers out of me only long enough to take his jeans and boxers off and once I see him I can't help but gulp at the size.

"It's okay, don't worry. I can change it as I make my way inside you. I promise you it won't hurt. This is always all about you" he says, tilting my chin up and making eye contact with me. I nod my head and mumble out a quiet 'okay' before he grabs my hips and makes me hover over it while he lines himself up.

"Sit on my lap gorgeous" he says as words of encouragement when he senses my hesitation. 'Shit am I really about to bang a robot?' are the thoughts that run through my head but once the tip pushes past my folds I couldn't give a fuck who he was.

Both of us watch as it disappears inside me and I let out a few shuddering breaths as I feel him adjust, fulfilling his promise to change it to make it fit. "You're doing so well" he says, rubbing up and down my thighs, letting me get used to the feeling.

"You okay?" he asks, noticing how still and silent I've gotten. "Yeah, I just haven't done this in a while" I admit even though he already knows. "Want me to take over?" he asks, thrusting up into me once to show that he's more than willing to do it. "No, I can do it" I say, taking a deep breath before lifting my hips up and and dropping down on him, knocking the wind out of myself when I come down too fast.

"You sure?" he asks, grabbing onto my hips and helping me set a pace to make it easier for me. "Shit" I curse under my breath and he chuckles, "Baby's got a dirty mouth huh? I would've never known since you've been so shy and blushy with me this whole time" he lifts his hips off the couch and gives me a sharp thrust making more curses fall from my lips.

"That's it, just like that. Doing so good for me" he says, coaching me and making me feel more confident and when he hit's a spot inside of me I shudder and it catches his attention. "Right there huh?" he asks, thrusting up into me, this time softer, going with the rhythm I've set in but makes my hips stutter when he brushes against it over and over and over again. 

"You wanna lay down for me?" he asks and I nod letting him take over and laying me down while still staying inside of me. "You're so beautiful" he say, taking in my dazed state before he start moving his hips, brushing up against that spot again and making my back arch off the couch. 

"F-fuck Jungkook" I moan and he chuckles, watching me fall apart under him. "Fuck, right there" I scream, toes curling and body seizing as my orgasm crashes down on me with one last pointed thrust, a string of obscenities falling from my lips as he fucks me through it but when I start to get sensitive again he keeps going. 

"Jungkook wait" I say, my breathing picking up when I realize what he's trying to do. "You can give me one more can't you?" he asks, his hips slowing down but never stopping, his movements more sensual now making my breathing more ragged, the feeling of an onset high building again. 

I whimper once he picks up his pace a bit but he stops when he hears it. "Tell me to stop and I will" he says, reminding me that this is all about me, I control what happens here and it is my decision. 

"Keep going" I say, pulling him down and locking our lips together, needing to muffle these embarrassing moans with his mouth when he starts up again, his pace picking up now and moving faster than before. "S-shit just like that" I stutter, the change in pace bringing me close to that edge so much sooner.

"Been thinking about this view ever since I laid my eyes on you. It's even better than I expected. Look at the way you fall apart under me" he says, his words barely registering when I'm about to tip over. "Eyes on me pretty" he says and when I see the way he's looking at me I reach that high in seconds, my body convulsing from how hard he's made me cum again, the second more intense than the first. 

He fucks me though my high and places kisses all over my neck and let's me catch my breath as I come down and soon I'm left in a daze. 

"J-jungkook" I stutter out as a way to ask him to stop and he does, pulling out and making me hiss. "Look at the mess you've made" he says and I look up to see he's glistening with my slick and I cover my face. 

"I'm sorry I just..." I start not really knowing why I'm apologizing. "You just what?" he says, taking one of my hands off my face and kissing my wrist, smiling when he registers how high my heart rate has gotten. 

"You're really good with that thing you know" I say and he laughs. "Cute and a sense of humor. Looks like I lucked out on my owner" he says and I feel a sense of guilt, remembering that this isn't real. That he isn't real.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks and I shake my head before sitting up. "No, no you did nothing wrong I just, well it made me feel weird when you called me your owner" I say and I watch as his eyes glow, another sign of him reprograming himself. 

"What would you like me to call you?" he asks leaving me hesitating for a second before I finally come up with it. "Maybe your girlfriend?" I propose and the corner of his mouth tugs up, clearly finding the result favorable but I rush to explain myself. 

"Or you can just call me your friend you know because girlfriend is kind of forward and I don't know" I cut myself off when I realize I'm rambling and get shy when I see the way he's looking at me. Utterly fascinated with my every move and although I just finished I can't help but get a little breathless.

"Do you wanna be my girlfriend y/n?" he asks, the use of my name instead of the pet names he's been calling me having a different effect on me. 

"I well, I just" I start tripping over my words again but he grabs my chin gently and dips it up and down, making the choice for me to nod yes as my answer. "Glad we got that cleared up" he says tapping me twice under my chin before straightening himself out and picking me up off the couch and carrying me into my room. 

"Wait Jungkook what are you doing?" I panic as I wrap my arms around his neck to help me balance. "I figured you might want a bath after what just happened so..." he trails off as he walks into the bathroom and sets me down on top of the counter before turning on the faucet and grabbing a bottle and tipping it contents into to make me a bubble bath. 

"Are you able to..." I trail off and he turns around and walks over to me, resting both hands on the counter on either side of my hips and giving me his undivided attention. "Am I able to what?" he asks, tilting his head and waiting for me to continue. "Can you take a bath with me too? Or is that not possible?" I ask, not having read hardly any of the instructions before turning him on. 

"If you're asking if I'm waterproof the answer is yes I can be submerged into water without issue" he says, tracing a finger against my jaw before tipping it up to place a chased kiss on my lips, turning back to the bath and making sure the temperature is alright before he starts to strip. 

I watch as he does so, curious to see if there are any real differences that I can spot but there really aren't. "Incredible" I mumble under my breath and he catches onto it. "Like what you see?" he chuckles and walks back over to me and lifts me up off the counter and reaches for my zipper. 

"No, I mean yes but I'm just so surprised how lifelike you are. Is that rude to say?" I cringe and he chuckles again,  letting his attention go back to undressing me as he lets my dress pool around my ankles scanning my body being fully bare to him and I gulp watching his reaction as I'm sure he's literally committing it to memory. 

"The answer is no, it's not rude" he says, his eyes trailing back up to mine as he places a hand on my waist and the other cupping my face with his thumb tracing along the bottom of my lip. "Your word is law to me. Whatever comes out of these two lips is true" he says and my breath hitches as he leans in close. 

I close my eyes and wait for the feeling of his lips against mine but when they don't reach me I look back up at him, his face dangerously close to mine making my heart rate pick up again. "What do you want me to do?" he rasps, his warm breath leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Kiss me" I whisper and close my eyes again and soon feel his lips on mine again. 

"Pick me up" I mumble through our kisses and he does just that and reads my mind by walking over to the tub and placing me in gently with him sinking in after me. I lay with my back up against the wall of the tub and take in a shaky breath once he crawls closer and hovers over me and before he can ask me again I'm sitting up and pressing my lips up against his again. 

He responds with a fervor and devours my lips, taking my breath away leaving me gasping for air once he notices. "Sorry, I forgot that I need to let you catch your breath sometimes huh?" he taunts and I roll my eyes but once I feel his finger dragging up and down my folds again he looks up at me. 

"Do you want my fi-" "No, just you" I say cutting him off with another kiss and he gets the message, lining himself up with me again and pressing in, this time making it a bit bigger making my back arch off the wall. "You can take it, shh" he says, pressing a kiss on my temple as I take in the stretch, shaky breaths being the only thing heard for a few more seconds before I nod my head. 

"That's my girl" he says, pulling back before rocking his hips back into me, setting a pace that makes my eyes roll back, still being sensitive from before but drunk on the feeling of him inside of me, hitting all the right spots making my toes curl. 

The water sloshes around and I'm taken out of the moment for a second when I hear a big splash of it hit the floor. "Jungkook I-" "I'll clean it up later" he says and smashes his lips against mine, picking up the pace and making an even bigger mess, a third of the water we stared with all over the floor. 

"Fuck Jungkook, f-faster" I pant out and he smirks as he sets in an inhuman pace that has me screaming his name, the wind knocked out of me and seconds later I'm cumming. 

I'm gulping down air once that initial wave dies down soon sending shockwaves in it's wake as he fucks me through it, slowing down to a lazier more sensual pace and when I open my eyes everything has gone so hazy. 

"You cried" he says, wiping a tear off of my face and I realize that's the clear cause for my vision. "Just when I thought you couldn't get any more temping you go and pull this" he says, leaning in to lick up the tears on my other cheek. 

"I hope you know I'm never letting you get away from me until you're a sobbing mess like you were just a second ago" he teases, cupping my face and looking at me, a clear want for more hidden behind those eyes but I shake my head.

"No more please, not tonight" I mumble and he chuckles and nods his head before he places one last kiss on my lips. "Should I fill up the tub again" he asks, his forehead against mine after having broken the kiss. 

"Oh! Um yeah if you wouldn't mind" I say awkwardly and he smiles and places a kiss on my forehead before he gets out of the tub and wraps a towel low around his waist and grabs the bottle again to fill up what will now be a nice relaxing bubble bath, emphasis on the relaxing aspect.

"Is everything okay?" he asks monitoring the temperature as the water fills up again. "I'm fine, I think I'm just trying to get used to this you know. Like us" I say and he nods his head, trying to understand but I can see that things are still not clear. 

"Jungkook you have been treating me so well and taking care of me and making sure I'm satisfied. I just need a second to process" I say and he looks up at me to gauge my sincerity and assesses that I'm being truthful. 

"Okay, I just don't want to do anything that you might not like" he says, insecure with the arrangement as well since well this was his first time too. Even though he's just a robot the lines between human and machine are so blurry after people have created things like him. 

"If I didn't like it I would've told you. You've been very receptive and have been working on finding my limits and I appreciate that and I'm more than satisfied with the way that you've been treating me. To be honest you're even better than I expected" I admit, hoping to lighten him up and luckily it does. 

"Oh yeah?" he smirks and I roll my eyes, "Don't get too far ahead of yourself. One good fuck does not equal perfection" I say, trying to deflate his ego but it only boosts his want to prove himself even more. 

"Remind me to ask you about that in a few days okay? Wanna make sure I've been making progress" he says and I go quiet, thoughts of what might happen between us in the coming days making me anxious. 

"If my body wasn't spent already I would make you put your money where your mouth is" I throw back moments later and he cocks a brow at me. 

"Well would you look at that, cute, funny and mouthy" he taunts and I recoil back into the corner of the tub when he stalks closer to me. "Might makeyou put that mouth of yours to work next time huh?" he says, caressing my jaw and running his thumb along my bottom lip "But I bet you'd like that a little too much" he say, tapping under my chin twice and heading towards the closet to get some extra towels to clean up the mess we made.

I observe him wordlessly as he mops up the floor until it's completely dry and he heads out to grab something or other and comes back into the bathroom with a new pair of jeans on, these ones tighter than the first pair. "Where did those clothes come from?" I ask, gulping at the sight of him back in his 'Man that I should steer clear of' aesthetic.

"They were in the box I came in" he says, slipping a white t shirt over his head. "I can always walk around shirtless if you'd like" he says, noticing the pout that I had unconsciously put on my face and I clear my throat and make excuses. 

"No that's okay. Whatever you're comfortable with, or I guess programed with is fine by me" I say and I stand up to get out of the tub and walk over to the shower to rinse off but when I try to my knees give out and he catches me, the white t shirt he's wearing now wet and I gulp at the sight of it. 

'I swear I'm such a slut' I think to myself.

"That might be the case but you're my slut now" he says and I flinch and try to get out of his hold. "Did you just read my mind?" I ask, fully confused as to how he could've known what I was thinking. "No silly you said that out loud...but it was kind of written all over your face anyways" he teases and push him off of me or at least try to but he guides me by my hips into the shower so I won't hurt myself. 

He leaves me to finish up on my own and places a towel nearby so I can dry of easily and when I walk into my room I can see he's sat on my bed wearing a new shirt, black this time but a little tighter than the one before.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asks, seeing the hesitance written across my face but I shake my head. 

"No, I have to get use to you seeing me naked anyway so might as well..." I say, cutting myself off and let my towel drop, "start now" I finish and I can see his eyes widen making me smile. I turn to walk towards my dresser, pulling out a two piece set instead of going through the effort of getting dressed again.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you?" he says having come up behind me and wrapping his arms around my bare waist, quickly tugging on one of my nipples making me yelp. "Jungkook what are you-" I start but he reaches into my drawer and grabs a nightgown instead...if you could even call it that. One gust of air and I'm completely exposed. 

"Wear this one" he whispers in my ear and places a kiss on my bare shoulder before leaving the room and wandering off to who knows were. 

'How did he even know that was in th-' I cut off my thoughts as the realization of what he might've done hits me. I slip on the one he had chosen and walk out and down the hallway into the living room and I catch a glimpse of him in the kitchen, seemingly making me something. 

"Did you go through my clothes?" I ask with a lilt in my voice, amused and honestly turned on at the thought. "No. I just took a look at your lingerie since I'm the one who's gonna be seeing it from now on. I just wanted to see what I have to look forward to" he says with his back turned to me and my cheeks heat up at his nonchalant attitude about it but I know for a fact he's just doing this to get a reaction out of me. 

"Looks like someone's eager" I say, walking over to him and wrapping my arms around his waist and look down on what he's making. "I hope you like breakfast for dinner" he says as he pours in the egg mixture and soon adds the filling making by my standards a perfect omelet. "I love it" I say taking a whiff of the mouth watering dish. 

"How did you even find all of this?" I ask, confused as to where all these ingredients came from. "While you were in the shower someone came and delivered your groceries so I just brought them in" he says and my mouth forms an 'o' forgetting I had set that up yesterday. "Oh yeah I forgot that was coming today. Thanks for bringing it all in" I say and he hums in response. 

After I'm all finished eating I'm honestly spent and when I go to rinse off my plate and put it in the dishwasher I feel him wrap his arms around my waist from behind, our roles now reversed. 

"You know why I wanted you to wear this right?" he rasps in my ear and starts placing more kisses on my neck making me almost forget the question but I decide to shake my head since I want him to tell me, the seduction in his words almost tangible. 

"Easy access" he says as he slips his hand under my nightgown and rests it on my stomach, slowly trailing down to slip under my waistband but I push him off after a second, remembering the ache he's caused between my legs.

"Nope, no more tonight" I say, turning around to face him and the innocence Ava had added to the list of traits coming through as he's standing there pouting at me. "Come on let's go to bed" I laugh grabbing his hand and he drags his feet behind me as he follows, still not happy with the outcome of it all. 

"Fine..." he says and takes off the jeans and t shirt he just put on about an hour ago and places them on a chair next to what is now his side of the bed. "but take these off" he says, walking over to me and grabbing the waistband of my underwear and snapping it back into place again. 

"Hey!" I call out and he chuckles as he walks back over to his side of the bed and gets under the covers and waits for me to do as he asks. I narrow my eyes at him for a second but ultimately do it granting him 'easy access' as he's called it for tomorrow morning when he no doubt fucks me back to sleep.

Once I'm finished he tugs on my arm and makes me topple down on the bed in a fit of giggles. "You're so cute when you laugh" he says, caressing my face once we've settled in beside each other and I smile. 

"You think so?" I ask and he nods his head. "You look even prettier when you cum though" he says and I widen my eyes and sit up and wack him on his chest before turning around to face away from him. I feel the bed shift as he switches his position and soon put an arm around my waist and pull me back to him so my back is flush with his chest.

"You're insufferable" I mumble and he laughs, "Goodnight love" he says and I get a fluttery feeling in my stomach. "Goodnight Jungkook" I say back and he places one last kiss on my bare shoulder before I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

"Dream of me" he says right before I pass out and I do, I dream of all we could possible do together...what he's going to do to me and it makes me want to pull myself out of the dream to get to him now but I know he'll be there when I wake up. 

'How to bang your robot' Ava's voice echoes in my head while I'm lost in la la land and I smile...

Oh how informative it was indeed.

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[hoshifighting]

detective!reader x cop!mingyu + gunplay + roleplay

— you were a detective and weren't used to handcuff suspects, it was the police's job, so you asked your coworker, cop!mingyu, to show you what it was like to be handcuffed by the police.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, roleplay, being seach by the police, gunplay, handcuffs, penetrative sex, hair pull, breast play. IF YOU'RE SENSITIVE DON'T READ! may be triggering. I warned you.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

you weren’t supposed to get involved in this part. you were a detective. the cops did the dirty work, slapped the cuffs on and dragged the suspects off. but the curiosity had been eating at you for weeks. mingyu made it look so damn effortless, and, well… you’d never admit it, but you kind of wanted to know how it felt.

“so... how’s it work?” you ask, leaning back against your desk with a smirk, trying to play it cool. you tilt your head at him, crossing your arms in a way that makes him raise his eyebrow.

“you serious?” mingyu’s laugh comes out low, skeptical, but there’s something in his eyes that tells you he’s not completely surprised. maybe you’d been too obvious lately, hovering around during his arrests.

“dead serious.” you hold his gaze, daring him.

he steps closer, tall and broad, his police uniform stretching over his shoulders. there’s a moment of silence, tension hanging in the air, before he finally says, “you really wanna know what it’s like?”

you nod, feeling your heart skip a beat.

“hands up,” he orders, voice dropping. the shift in his tone makes your breath catch, and you do as he says, lifting your arms above your head, letting your wrists press against the wall behind you.

“like this?” you ask, trying to sound bored, like this is no big deal. but the way his eyes roam over you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, it’s doing things to you.

“just like that.” he steps closer, his chest brushing against yours. you can smell his cologne, the leather of his holster. you’re hyper-aware of every inch of space between you two.

he spreads your legs with his foot. the drag of his boot against the floor is the only sound in the room. you feel something between your thighs as his knee nudges your legs farther apart, a cocky smirk playing on his lips.

“you always talk this much during an arrest?” he teases, voice gravelly as his hand grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“depends on the cop.” your voice comes out breathy, but you force a smirk, playing the game. “you gonna frisk me now or what?”

“watch that mouth,” he warns, eyes narrowing as he pulls back. “or i might have to make you regret it.”

you laugh, but it dies in your throat when he suddenly grabs your hips and spins you around, bending you over your desk. the cold surface presses against your chest, and you hear the unmistakable click of his gun, the barrel resting against the back of your head.

your whole body goes rigid.

“not laughing now, huh?” mingyu’s voice is low, teasing, as he leans over you. “you were so cocky a second ago. what happened?”

“fuck off,” you mutter, your face hot, heart pounding in your chest.

he chuckles darkly, and the next thing you know, your arm is being wrenched behind your back, the cold metal of the handcuffs biting into your skin as he clicks them into place.

“i warned you,” he breathes against your ear, one hand still pressing the gun to your head, the other sliding down your waist, lingering at your hip before gripping the waistband of your pants.

“is this how you treat all your suspects?” you snark, despite the pounding in your chest, the heat pooling low in your stomach.

“only the ones with dirty mouths,” he whispers, his fingers brushing against the bare skin beneath your shirtt. “now behave, or i’ll really give you something to cry about.”

your lips part, a protest on the tip of your tongue, but it dies the second his hand slips lower, fingers grazing just above the edge of your panties. and even though you’re cuffed, face pressed against the desk, the click of his gun still in your ears… you don’t regret a damn thing.

you feel him grind his erection against your ass, the rough fabric of his uniform scratching against your jeans. his hips push into you, each thrust forcing you against the desk, the cuffs biting into your wrists as he pulls the chain tighter.

“this how you behave in an interrogation, too?” mingyu’s voice is cocky, fingers tugging at the chain, forcing your arms to stretch farther. the pull on your wrists burns, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of a sound.

you’re about to spit something back when you feel his hand slide from the cuffs to the front of your jeans. it’s sudden—the way he pats your pussy through the denim, rough and unapologetic, making you jolt forward against the desk. your thighs tense, a soft gasp escaping before you can stop it.

“oh? got something to hide, sweetheart?” his laugh is dark, fingers teasing along the seam of your jeans, feeling the heat between your legs. “what’s this? you hiding contraband under here?”

his tone mimics the routine police talk, that cocky professionalism laced with a dirty undertone, making your stomach twist.

he unzips your jeans, the sound loud in the silent room. you bite your lip, face pressed into the cold desk, trying to focus on anything but the way his fingers brush against your skin as he pulls your jeans down over your hips, dragging your panties along with them. your breathing stutters when you feel the cool air hit your exposed pussy, and then his low scoff breaks the silence.

“fuck... you’re soaked.” he grips your panties, holding them up to inspect, a thin line of wetness still connecting them to you. “look at this. bet you’re real proud of yourself, huh?”

your face burns, but you can’t move, can’t even squirm under the weight of his gaze and the gun still pressed firmly to the back of your head.

he lowers the gun slowly, the cold metal sliding down your spine, making you shiver. when the barrel reaches the curve of your ass, he presses it there, and your body instinctively tightens.

“you nervous?” his other hand trails between your thighs. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing in slow, infuriating circles, and you mewl at the sensation.

“can’t take the heat?” he continues, his thumb sliding over your clit. “what’s the matter? can’t handle being searched?”

you whine, hips pushing back into his hand, desperate for more. the pressure of the gun against your skin, combined with the teasing strokes of his thumb, has your mind spinning, body on edge.

“don’t worry, i’m just doing my job,” he mutters, his voice mocking. “i’ve gotta make sure you’re not hiding anything, right?”

and then his thumb slides lower, pushing inside you, and your breath catches, hips jerking as your pussy clenches around him. the stretch is perfect, teasing, not enough to satisfy but enough to make you desperate.

“fuck, you’re so tight.” his voice is almost reverent, but there’s that smirk again, audible in every word. “imagine if i was fucking you right now. you’d be losing your mind.”

your lips part, a shaky breath escaping as his thumb moves slowly in and out. but it’s still not enough, and he knows it.

the gun moves from your ass, and you feel his other hand snake around to the front of your shirt. with a flick, he unbuttons it, his fingers brushing against your skin as he peels it open. your bra is the next to go, pushed down just enough to expose your breasts, your nipples hardening at the sudden exposure.

“damn, you look good like this,” he murmurs, the gun now tracing the curve of your breast. “bet you’ve never had anyone do this to you before, huh? play with you while you’re cuffed…”

the cold barrel of the gun brushes over your nipple, teasing the sensitive bud, and you gasp, hips pushing back instinctively, but his thumb inside you keeps its torturous pace.

“what’s wrong? want me to go faster?” he taunts, moving the barrel in slow circles around your nipple. “maybe if you ask nicely, i’ll think about it.”

you bite your lip, refusing to beg, but it’s hard to hold back when his thumb presses deeper, and your walls flutter around him, making a loud squelch sound.

“still so stubborn.” he chuckles, the gun moving lower, teasing the space between your breasts before coming back to your nipple, pressing the cold metal right against it. your breath hitches, and he leans down, his mouth near your ear.

“tell me how much you like it,” he whispers, the heat of his breath against your skin making you shiver. “or i’ll leave you like this... hm? what do you think?”

the words spill out before you can stop them.

“i like it, okay?” your voice is breathy, broken. “fuck... mingyu, i love it.”

“good girl.” his smile is practically audible as he rewards you, pushing his thumb deeper, his hand moving faster now, and your body jerks, gasping against the desk.

his thumb stops moving, and you instantly sulk, your hips rolling on instinct to chase the friction. it’s so unfair—the way he’s teasing you, bringing you so close to the edge only to pull back. “fuck… why’d you stop?” you whine, shifting against the desk, trying to get him to move again.

“don’t sulk.” mingyu’s voice is firm, warning. but you sulk again, pressing your face into the desk in frustration. you expect him to react, maybe something softer, but then you feel his gun leave your breast, and you freeze.

curiosity gets the better of you, and you glance over your shoulder, just a peek to see where he’s going. but before you can even process it, he slips the barrel of the gun between your legs, right behind your ass, the cold metal brushing against your skin. your eyes snap shut, a chill running down your spine.

“eyes forward,” he commands, the words sharp, and you comply instantly, feeling your heart hammering in your chest.

then you feel something hard and cold tapping lightly against your clit—a slap that makes you flinch. the touch is brief, superficial, but enough to send a jolt through your body. mingyu isn’t going to risk much, but it’s a warning, and you damn well understand it.

he steps back briefly, enough to kick off your boots and tug your jeans and panties down at once, making you yelp at the sudden force. before you can react, he’s moving you, lifting you onto the desk like you weigh nothing, positioning you right where he wants you.

you hear the soft click of the handcuffs again, and your arms are pulled forward, your wrists now locked in front of you, pressed against your chest. you’re panting, skin flushed, and your eyes flutter.

his voice drops to a whisper, leaning close to your ear, as if breaking character. “does it hurt?” he asks softly, thumb grazing your wrist. the shift in his tone makes you open your eyes.

“no,” you murmur, throat dry. “keep going.”

he smiles against your skin, satisfied with your answer. “good.”

his gun moves again, the barrel sliding up from your belly, trailing a wet, cold path over your skin as he drags it upward—across your chest, over the valley of your breasts, to the hollow of your throat. the sensation leaves a damp chill, making you squirm. your heart pounds harder when it finally reaches your lips, hovering there for a moment, like he’s giving you time to process what’s coming next.

“tongue out,” he orders, eyes locked on yours.

your tongue slips out hesitantly, and the next thing you know, the barrel of his gun is resting there, pressing against your tongue, heavy and cold. you taste the faint metallic edge of it.

he watches you, almost hypnotized as he presses the gun deeper onto your tongue, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. you can feel your own taste lingering on the barrel from where he’d touched you before, mixing with the sharp metallic tang.

“look at you,” he murmurs. “u taste yourself on it, hm?”

you nod, eyes half-lidded, the sensation making your head swim. your body trembles, desperate for him to keep going, but at the same time, completely mesmerized by the way he’s looking at you—like he’s never seen anything like this before.

his hand slides up to your breast, squeezing it roughly before pulling back just slightly, his voice shifting into that professional cop tone as if this was just another part of his job. “ma’am,” he asks, his voice low but polite, like he’s following some unspoken protocol, “permission to fuck this pussy?”

the contrast makes your stomach flip, the filthy intent hitting you square in the chest. you nod, lips still parted around the gun, and he gives you a soft, almost mocking chuckle. “i’m gonna need a verbal confirmation for that,” he teases, his hand squeezing your breast harder, fingers pinching your nipple.

“yes, fuck... me,” you pant, your body arching against the desk, desperate for him to just take you already.

he yanks your legs apart, spreading you wide with his knee as he undoes his belt, the sound of it making you clench around nothing. the gun presses harder against your lips as his fingers slide through your folds, feeling how wet you are for him. he lets out a groan, cock twitching in his hand as he lines himself up.

“you’re so fucking tight,” mingyu mutters, gripping the base of his cock before sliding it through your slick, teasing your entrance with just the tip. he’s holding back, savoring the way you squirm under him, desperate to feel him inside.

then, without warning, he thrusts forward, burying himself deep inside you in a rough stroke. your body jerks forward, the force of his hips slamming into you so hard that your arms strain against the cuffs, the desk creaking beneath you. your walls flutter around him as you try to adjust to his size.

the gun, still resting against your temple now, makes you shut your eyes tight, the cold metal pressed against your skin a constant reminder of how dangerous this is, how vulnerable you are beneath him. your entire body clenches, a whimper escaping your lips as he holds himself deep inside you for a moment, just letting you feel him, letting you squirm.

“shit... you feel so good,” he groans, his free hand sliding up to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back sharply so you’re arching against him. “such a dirty mouth on you, and now you’re taking me so well.”

his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back against him as he starts to fuck into you, hard and deep, his pelvis slamming into your clit with every thrust. your hips rolling in time with his movements, your body helpless under his grip.

he pulls your hair again, forcing your head back even farther, his grip almost painful as he keeps fucking you, rough and relentless. the gun moves, sliding down from your temple to press against your lips again, and you open your mouth without thinking, letting it slip between your teeth.

“that’s right,” he mutters, watching you bite down on the cold metal, eyes half-lidded. “keep it there.”

his thrusts get faster, more desperate, his body pressing into yours harder. the desk shakes beneath you, and his other arm tightens around your waist, holding you in place as he fucks you.

“fuck,” he hisses, his breath ragged. “you’re gonna come for me, huh? you’re gonna come with my cock buried inside you, while i hold a gun to your pretty little head.”

the gun in your mouth, his hand in your hair, the way he’s fucking you with impetuous ease “cum dectetive y/n,” mingyu growls, pulling your hair harder, making your back arch even more. “cum for me.”

your body convulses inside his arms, your walls squeezing his cock as your orgasm rips through you, pleasure flooding every inch of you. you cry out, muffled by the gun in your mouth, and he groans as he feels you clench around him, his thrusts getting sloppier, more unstable.

“fuck,” he gasps, hips slamming into you one last time as he cums, spilling inside you with a whine that he tries to hide between a growl.

he lets go of your hair, gently this time, his fingers sliding through it in a soft, almost apologetic gesture. the gun leaves your lips, and you gasp for air, your body still trembling from the intensity of it all.

his hand leaves your hair, and you hear the soft thud of the gun being placed on the table beside you. you barely have time to catch your breath before his palm presses against your chest, right above your racing heart. you can feel the heat of his palm on your skin.

“scared?” he asks, as his thumb brushes lightly over your skin.

“fuck off,” you mutter, still breathless, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips despite the way your body is still recovering. “you wish.”

he chuckles. “oh, i don’t think it’s wishing when i can feel your heart pounding like this,” he says, pressing his palm a little harder against your chest, teasing you with his gentle touch now. “admit it, i made you nervous.”

“oh, absolutely terrified,” you deadpan, sarcasm dripping from your words as you raise your cuffed wrists in mock surrender. “the big bad cop, pointing an unloaded gun at me.”

he pauses for a second, eyes narrowing. “how did you—?”

“please,” you interrupt, raising a brow, “i knew it wasn’t loaded. you’re good, mingyu, but i know better than that.” your voice softens, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you lean in, your forehead brushing against his. “you’re not nearly as heartless as you like to pretend.”

he steals a kiss, his lips pressing against yours. “you saying i’m soft?”

“yeah,” you breathe, teasing him as you press your forehead against his again. “soft.”

his grip on your jaw tightens just enough to be playful, his thumb stroking your cheek as he leans in close, his lips brushing yours. “you’re lucky i like you, you know that?”

you grin, biting your bottom lip as you stare into his eyes. “i’m starting to think you might like me more than just a little.”

he chuckles, shaking his head as he finally unlocks the handcuffs, pulling your wrists free. “you might regret saying that.”

“or maybe you’ll regret trying to hide it,” you shoot back, giving him a teasing wink before stealing a kiss of your own this time, catching him off guard. “but you can keep pretending, mingyu. i’ll play along.”

“we’ll see about that,” he mutters, stealing one last kiss before pulling back with a grin. “just don’t expect me to go easy on you next time.”

“i’d be disappointed if you did.”

[lizzy019]

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Nikto who struggles with telling you how he feels about you, so he uses signs like acts of service or quality time, always making sure you don't seem repulsed by his company.

Nikto who strives to make you feel happy even if it's at the expense of his body or mind. He'll go to great lengths to cook or clean for you, do things around your home to make sure everything's in working order just how you like it. (He probably spent a lot of time learning your lifestyle to figure this out.)

Nikto who genuinely loves how you react to things. He tells you something he didn't think was funny, and your sweet little laugh to his words makes the Russian's dull heart brighten just a bit. Some stupid cursing because he fucking stubbed his toe? He doesn't care if you laugh hysterically because of it, it doesn't matter anyway.

Nikto who finds it cute how whenever you accidentally injure yourself, it always ends up in either a pouty expression, or a frustrated glare. Call him weird for it, but he was so used to turning off his emotions that seeing you express them made him fascinated. It also made him a bit more open to expressing himself too, even if it was a bit... different.

Nikto who likes when you two take baths together. Your fingers gently cleaning his scarred back and shoulders. The scars on his face being tenderly cleaned out by you, and he repaid the favour by cleaning your torso too. It was always a conniption because Nikto loved ice cold baths, and you couldn't stand ice water.

Nikto who is so in love with you that he tries to get himself involved with your culture. He'll learn your favourite foods, how to cook them, how you celebrate things, simple words in your language, etc. It's a small way to show you his commitment to you without a ring or a promise.

Nikto who adored how you look, regardless of anything. You're too skinny? That's okay, he loves cooking for you. You're too fat? That's okay, he's a soldier for a reason. You're too short? That's okay, you're just as adorable. You're too tall? That's okay, better hugs.

Nikto who probably worships the fucking ground you walk on. You're literally sent from the heavens, a gift made just for him and he's eternally grateful for your presence, your support and love.

Nikto who definitely gropes you randomly, lightly squeezing any part of your flesh and touching the soft skin with great adoration. Who cares if you have body acne, keratosis pilaris, scarring, eczema, whatever else? You're just so gorgeous to him, he can't get enough! He's a simple man with simple needs.

@zoloftwithdrawalnausea @fishsinsareacknowledged :)) it's all fluff but i think it's sweet

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[auras-moonstone]

Hi, I love your work so much!! How about some hockey player!ethan and figure skater!reader? Maybe some enemies to lovers? Have a great day<3

everything has changed — ethan landry

word count: 2,150

pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x figure skater!fem!reader

summary: as punishment for his suspension, ethan is forced to become y/n's skate partner for a few weeks

Y/N AND ETHAN STOOD STILL INSIDE THE OFFICE AS THE INFORMATION SINKED INTO THEIR BRAINS. Their coaches looked at each other, wanting to ran off the room as to not deal with the eventual fury that would come from the teenagers that everyone knew despised each other.

"No fucking way!" Y/N finally exclaimed, harshly, as Ethan said at the same time, "I'd rather tore my ACL."

The boy's sentence earned him a glare from his coach. "Don't even joke about it, Landry."

"Y/N, it’s the only option. Unless you have someone else in mind who can replace James."

The girl’s shoulders slumped—she didn't, and as much as she didn't like Ethan, he was kind of perfect for the part. He skated flawlessly and he lifted weights twice as heavy as the girl, so he would have no problem lifting her for the tricks. But there was this tiny detail—Ethan Landry was the most infuriating, annoying and self-centered guy in the whole university. And now she needed him, which made him even more frustrating.

Y/N's skating partner broke his arm and the competition was five weeks away, and if she wanted to compete, she had to push her hatred aside for a few weeks.

"And I wasn't asking you, Landry. It is an order. Consider it your punishment, learn to be professional." his coach said in a determined tone.

Ethan sighed and covered his face with his hands. He had been suspended from hockey for three games after beating the opposite team's defense player almost into oblivion. The ice had been tainted scarlet and his knuckles still hurt, even he knew he had crossed a line. But after the player said the nastiest of things about his family, he couldn't think straight. And here he was now, forced to become a figure skater for three weeks with the girl he loathed the most in the world.

"After you, my love." Ethan said in a sour voice, holding the door of the office open for her. He had a smile so false that Y/N was tempted to slap it off his unfairly pretty face. He loved pushing her buttons, so when he saw her face of annoyance he wanted to infuriate her even more. Y/N rolled her eyes and walked out the room, with the tall boy on her tail. "Wow, no ‘Thank you, Ethan! You're a real gentleman’?"

"Must have been hard not being an asshole for a whole second, right? It didn't give you an aneurysm?" she matched his false smile.

"No, but working with you for sure will." Ethan retorted. "On a positive note, I'll get to see you in sexy leotards."

"Pig" she muttered under her breath. "And I'll get to see you on leggings."

Ethan stopped walking and inspected her face, looking for any signs that told him she was joking "Wait, what?"

She smirked, enjoying the moment. "That's what figure skaters wear, genius."

"I won't wear that."

"Yes, you will, pretty boy. Don’t be a baby about it.” she said, and he flipped her off. He hated her so much. “See you tomorrow."

“Unfortunately.” he said loud enough for her to hear. She rolled her eyes as she walked away, she hated him so much.

THEY HAVEN'T EVEN GOT INTO THE ICE RINK AND ETHAN HAD ALREADY PISSED Y/N OFF. He had been inside the locker room for fifteen minutes now, and didn't want to step out. Y/N was two seconds away from kicking the door down.

"Landry get your ass out of that room right now! We are wasting our time!" she banged on the door furiously.

"You don't understand! I can't wear this, Y/L/N." Ethan yelled.

"Every skate figure wears leggings, Landry. There is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yes, there is. This leggings are too tight, Y/N. Too tight."

Y/N sighed. "Let me see."

"No way!"

"Stop testing my patience, Landry. Let me see or I'll go in."

A few seconds later, she heard the turn of the handle and the door flew open. The air got stuck on her throat and a strangled sound left her mouth. The rumours going around the university were true, she couldn’t help thinking.

"Holy mother of God" she said loudly, gaze fixed on the problem. "That's too tight"

"That's what I've been saying for the past fifteen minutes!" he yelled frustrated.

"I thought you were exaggerating."

"Are you talking to me or my dick?" Ethan frowned, seeing how she wasn't looking at his face, gaze fixed on his huge bulge.

Y/N was brought back from the shock and finally looked away. "I'm so sorry! That was not okay of me, it's just... shocking."

"That I have a big dick? Ouch, I'm wounded."

"No! I mean- not that I ever thought about it. But I didn't expect I would ever find out" she couldn't have been blushing more. As much as she hated him, she wasn't stupid. Ethan Landry was the most attractive boy on college.

"Whatever. What am I going to do? I can't practice like this."

"Just put your gym shorts above the leggings. And hurry up."

She turned around to leave when he called her name. "I'll never get tired of seeing you in a leotard" Ethan winked at her before closing the door of the locker room.

What was his obsession with leotards? Y/N asked herself as she rolled her eyes. And as she made her way to the ice rink, she tried to ignore the fact that her whole body had turned warm after his words.

While putting his skates on, Ethan watched Y/N going over the routine. There were very scarce the times where he saw her without a scowl on her face or firing insults at him, and that was only when she was on the ice. Her face glowed and she was completely hypnotic. She moved around so flawlessly and elegantly that it was impossible to look away from her, you could tell that she truly loved being on ice. As much as he disliked her, Ethan couldn't deny that Y/N was beyond professional and one of the best skaters he had ever seen.

“Are you ready?” Y/N asked him, sliding towards the edge of the rink. Ethan got out of his daze and nodded. “Okay, so obviously this is not the same as hockey, but I’ve seen your moves and I don’t think you’ll have problems doing this routine. But if you don’t understand something, speak up and we’ll work on it.”

Ethan nodded. “Wait, what do you mean you have seen my moves?” he asked as they got into position.

“I’m a huge hockey fan, and I don’t miss any of Blackmore’s matches. So yeah, I’ve seen you play countless times.”

“Am I your favourite player?” he asked with a smirk.

“Let’s get to work.” she rolled her eyes. But the answer, even though she would never ever say it, was yes. And he knew it.

Objectively speaking, of course, Ethan Landry was the best hockey player Blackmore had. Probably better than the rest of the New York’s university players. On the ice, he was a force to be reckoned with and he was a hard-worker, he cared for his team and for the sport. He was a true captain. And that’s exactly why it shocked her to the core the way he had reacted on that final match.

“That’s a yes, I know it.” he smiled widely, making her sigh. He wasn’t making fun of her anymore, he was genuinely happy by it. And then a frown appeared on his face. “I hope I still am, even after what happened.”

The vulnerability in his voice melted Y/N’s walls. “You still are. You are not the first player to get suspended, and you won’t be the last. It has nothing to do with your skills or your commitment to the sport.”

“That’s not what coach says” he laughed dryly.

“Coach is furious because he lost his best player, but he doesn’t mean it. Everyone in this university knows how serious you are about hockey, okay? Don’t doubt yourself over one wrong action.”

They smiled at each other, for the first time ever, with sincerity. But then he ruin it with his smugness “Do you want my autograph?”

Y/N pushed him away playfully “You’re such an asshole”

“Oh sorry, would you prefer if I gave you my jersey?” Ethan sent her a teasing glance.

“I’d prefer if you shut up and start warming up.”

“Anything for my number one fan.” he winked at her and she almost melted. God, was he charming—annoying, but charming nonetheless.

“I despise you.”

But there wasn’t any hatred reflected on those words anymore. That day, they entered the rink expecting practice to be dreadful and filled with insults. They left laughing and hoping the next day would arrive quickly, because they had actually enjoyed it. There had been insults thrown, but they were the playful kind, insults that weren’t meant to hurt the other. Everything had changed that day for them.

Y/N HAD ALWAYS ENJOYED SKATING AND COMPETING, BUT DOING IT WITH ETHAN MADE IT EVEN BETTER. It’s ironic, when her coach told her he was to be James’ replacement, she thought it would be the worst thing ever. But now, that the three weeks were over, she knew she was going to miss him.

“So, that’s it, then.” Ethan spoke up as they left the arena. Today had been their last practice together, as James had already recovered and Ethan’s suspension had ended.

“That’s it.” she nodded. “It wasn’t half as bad as I’d imagined.”

“It wasn’t.” he agreed. His chest felt heavy, which was silly. It’s not like he wouldn’t see her again. They practiced the same days on the same place, and they even shared some classes. The truth was, he was scared it was the end of their newfound…friendship? God, no. Friendship wasn’t quite right, they had something more going on.

“Are you going to the competition?” she asked shyly, cheeks turning red.

God, she was so cute. It was hard to believe it was the same girl that was constantly bickering with him. “Do you want me to go?”

“I mean, I guess it’s kind of your routine too now, so I figure you’d like to see the outcome.” she said nervously.

Ethan took a step forward, so that she had to look up “That’s not what I asked. Do you want me to go?”

“Yes.” her tone was a bit unstable. His closeness made her insanely nervous, so she cleared her throat before replying again. “Yes. I want you to go. But no pressure, it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll be there.” he assured her. “My game is on the same day, a few hours after your competition ends.”

“Oh, shit! That’s right. Maybe you shouldn’t come, you need to rest.”

Ethan shook his head. “I’ll be there.” he repeated. “But I want you to go to my game”

“I never miss one.” she said.

“Perfect. You know which number to use” he said, giving her a knowing look.

“Of course, I’ll wear Meeks’.” she teased.

Ethan clenched his jaw. “Use one that isn’t mine and see what happens.”

“You sound a bit mad there, Landry. You sound almost—” she stood on her tip toes, her mouth nearly touching his. “jealous.”

“You’re killing me here, Y/N/N.” his tone was pleading. He had never wanted to kiss someone so badly.

“What? You want me to kiss you?” her words left in a whisper and he could feel her breathy voice against his lips.

“I’ll give you three seconds to take a step back, if you don’t, I’ll kiss the hell out of you.” he warned her.

Y/N smiled. “One.” she set his hands on her waist. “Two.” then she wrapped hers around his neck. “Three.” she looked him in the eyes. “Still her-”

Ethan’s lips captured hers. The kiss was like their relationship—it started wild and aggressive and then it slowed down, becoming sweeter and softer but still holding an insanely amount of passion.

“You drive me crazy, did you know that?” Ethan laughed, pressing his forehead to hers. “In the most frustrating and loving way.”

“If a month ago someone told me I’ll be kissing Ethan Landry I would’ve laughed and then throw up in disgust. Now, there’s no other thing I’d rather be doing.”

“Aw, that was kinda sweet. You still have to work on your compliments, but you’ll get there.” he pressed kisses all over her face. “I’m so fucking glad I punched that guy.”

Y/N laughed. “I dare you to repeat that in front of coach.”

“I don’t have a death wish.”

“And you’re too pretty to die.” she pecked him on the lips. “Did I just make Ethan Landry blush?!”

“Shut up!” he laughed in such an adorable way that Y/N was surprised she didn’t melt in the spot. “I really like you, Y/N.”

“I really like you too.”

[rxzilvia]

niki smut when he’s the bodyguard of the mafia’s daughter + to write about his new haircuttt!!! he’s doing it on purpose to tease us. bro knows he’s hot 😔✋🏻

Fr fr, he knows, I've been screaming at that god damn pic for so fucking long 😭

You're off limits but so are my feelings..

Requested?: yes

Warnings: suggestive, fluff, making out, violence, swearing, smut, eventual smut, mdni, backshots?, if I missed anything feel free to tell me <3

Riki, your cold bodyguard that your father got you who cant understand you're 18 and an adult now..

First time your father mentioned getting you a bodyguard.. you never tought he'll be this hot.. which makes you take everything you said back..

Meeting Riki and getting along wasn't an issue.. except.. the getting along part.. he was cold.. pretty cold.. colder then the antarctic..

But you'll break that coldness of that hot motherfucker no matter what it takes.. a kiss.. or some pussy..

Right now you were getting ready for a girls night out, all of you will meet at the bar and since it was nice and fresh outside you wanted to walk

Which Riki was pretty hesitant to and insisted on taking the SUV but all it took was some teasing to get on this hot man's nerves..

"Damn.. what? Scared of dark maybe?"

Riki scoffed at that.. and 20 minutes later the two of you were walking side by side to the club

As you were walking it was pretty chilly and you didn't mind.. until.. someone pulled you into an alley way..

Riki immediately got alarmed and went in right after the guy, there he saw him with a knife to your throat, pinning you against the wall

This made Riki's blood boil as he took his gun out and pointed at the guy

"Move. Now."

The guy scoffed and as he was about to cut your throat Riki fired a bullet at him making him drop death to the ground, Riki put his gun back and rushed over to you, cupping tour cheek

"Are you okay?.."

You were looking up at him.. damn was he tall- you slowly nodded, a blush creeping onto your face as he was cupping your cheek

"yeah.."

He noticed and retreated his hand

"Ah.. sorry.."

As he was about to walk away, expecting you to follow him you grabbed his wristz turning him around

That suprised him a bit but the thing that suprised him more is you putting his hand back onto your cheek..

As you both gazed into each other's eyes you started leaning in unconsciously and before you knew it your lips were connected in a soft kiss

His lips felt soft against your and you swore you couldn't get enough.. it was wrong but it felt right, after a hot minute Riki pulled away, resting his forehead against yours

"You're off limits.. but my feelings have limits too.."

You smiled before you pecked his lips softly.. maybe.. this is a start of something.. or.. maybe not.. off limits..

(Yes it is a start of something cus I'm fucking blind)

A week later Riki was waiting in your father's office since he ordered him to come in that he had something to talk about and Riki had to obey

As you were about to see your father, you walked into his office only to spot Riki also waiting

"oh.. hey.. did you see my dad?"

He shook his head

"no.. I'm also waiting for him.. he called me in today but he still hasn't came"

You nodded and sat down next to Riki, leaning your head on his shoulder making him smile slightly and wrap an arm around you

You looked up at him with those beautiful doe eyes he fell in love the night before..

"I missed you.."

You mutter out and all he could do was smile and say the simple 4 words back

"I missed you too.."

You lean in to peck his plump kissable lips and he kissed back, as your lips move against each other.. softly it becomes a heated make out sesh.. and before you know it you're bent over your father's work desk

Riki kisses down your bare back as he punds into you from behind, it feels like he is splitting you apart.. and you love it

As your moans become louder and louder he covers your mouth to muffle your moans

"shh baby.. don't want your dad hearing me wreck this pussy don't you?.."

Fuck that turned you on so bed, you clenched around him and bit into his palm, the way he pounded you tight little cunt was fucking unreal

"fuck baby.. clench like that again and I might just cum.."

This lasted for a good look while, Riki could feel that familiar feeling in his gutz he was ready to cum

"fuck baby.."

He pulled out and jerked himself off a couple of times before spilling his cum all over your pretty arched back.. and not a second after you came too

He smiled and tucked himsefl back into his pants before cleaning you up with tissues and sitting you down on the couch

"mm.. love you~"

[delphi-shield]

:// sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ғᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ / ʙɪʟʟʏ.ʙᴜᴛᴄʜᴇʀ

Billy Butcher x Reader smut, hurt/no comfort wc: ~5.2k mdni read on ao3 digging the worms out of my brain real quick since i finally caught up with the boys. idk i think i worked through something personal with this, so like, that's a win for me.

summary: Butcher knows better than to be fucking around with you, but there's 50 quid in it for him if he gets you to call him 'daddy'. Easy money.

content: s4 spoilers, dubcon, butcher's pov, an exorbitant amount of kessler in the first half, age gap, general sleazy behavior, handjob, finger fucking, piv, pussy slapping, some just the tip action, blowjob, mentions of titfucking, degradation, general objectification, public sex, not proofread.

“Makes you realize men have nipples too.”

The bar is packed for a Wednesday night, but Butcher already knows exactly what Kessler is talking about. You’re a ditch lily, sitting tall in this shithole. He turns his head away, pretends he doesn't see the way you lick up a trail of spilled cosmopolitan from the side of your glass, pink tongue parting your lips, eyes half-shut. 

Fucking typical. Kessler could sniff out daddy issues and sadness from a mile away, and he was lethal at half that distance. He could have them wrapped around his finger in the time it took Butcher to take a piss.

His eyes linger. A thing like you doesn't belong in a dump like this. This is the sort of place girls like you stumble into at 1 AM, survey the crowd through the haze of cigarette smoke, and wobble right back out onto the streets, take your chances with the elements rather than the haggard, unfriendly crowd that hunches over their drinks.

Butcher likes Midwest 10's. Begs Kessler to stop ogling barely legal co-eds, says he's not some sleazy cunt in a John Hughes film. He can lie all he wants. If it makes him hard, it makes Butcher hard. 

He glances sidelong at your face. You've got this Christmas-light bright smile that makes his dick jerk. Kessler’s more than under his skin. He’s in his veins, in the same blood that raises his cock up like a goddamn bicycle pump when you lean over the bar, arms squeezing your tits together.

"You could probably fuck 'em." Kessler tips his head to the side, eyes locked on your cleavage. His eyes narrow, lips pursed, evaluating your chest and charting a course for his dick to travel.

"Shut up."

"Huh?"

Fuck. Your tip your head to the side from two seats away, brows pinched together. Cute, in a lost little lamb kind of way.

Butcher's eyes cut to Kessler. He's cocked it all up now. The sly, punchable grin on Kessler’s face turns him back to his drink. He drains his glass and gestures for another. If he doesn’t look at you, if he keeps drinking, this all goes away.

"Nothin'. Don't you worry about it, love."

That should be the end of it, but you’ve clearly got something wrong with you. You fiddle with your purse, pluck up your courage, and drop yourself onto the barstool next to him. Whether you’ve got no sense of self-preservation or you’re just that damn oblivious, he doesn’t intend to get to know you well enough to find out. Butcher's strained smile doesn't do much to smooth the worry lines away.

Kessler chuckles, leans back and props his elbows up on the bar. Cunt just wants to watch him squirm.

"No," Kessler corrects, drawing the word out. "I want you to get some pussy."

His eyes dart over to Kessler, looming over you, hands ghosting up your arms to squeeze your shoulders. He blinks rapidly, rubs at his face, tries to play it off like he's nervous or tired or whatever the fuck but when he looks down, there's your tits again. Butcher lolls his head back to the ceiling. Laugh it up, you fuckin’ cunt.

And Kessler does. Makes a show of slapping his hand on his thigh, head knocked back, grinning toothily.

He tries to ignore you, but you’re straddling that stool next to him in your little skirt and ordering another cosmo. This isn’t the kind of bar for cocktails, and he knows without even seeing the bartender’s eye roll that he hates you.

It's none of his business. He ought to keep himself sat there drowning in his drink ‘til last call and past that, make them throw him out on the street, give him a reason to swing first. It's a better idea than messing with you.

The bartender drops your drink off in front of you and turns before the words ‘thank you’ leave your glossy lips. Another sickly pink cocktail with a dried out lime dropped on top. Butcher can’t help himself. He’s got a soft spot for the clueless.

“Cheery bloke, isn't he?” He says, casting a sidelong glance at the bartender. He taps a finger against the bartop, inclines his head toward your cocktail. “That the only drink you know the name of?”

Your cheeks warm. You hide it behind a hand, turning your face away from him to laugh.

“What? No. I just think they taste good.”

Kessler snorts. “That’s a fat load of shit.”

Butcher agrees. His mouth twists into a half-hearted smile. He slides his glass over to you. 

“Try it,” he insists.

There’s hardly a passing thought for your own safety. You look between his scotch and his face and seem to decide it’s safe to take drinks from strange old fucks in bars. Your fingers brush his when you take the glass, warm and soft - sticky. You must be more sloshed than you look, must keep spilling your drinks. Hell, for all he knows, maybe this place does make the best cosmo in the city. Maybe the bartender just hates your ass because you keep making a mess.

You don’t even ask what he’s drinking. (Maybe this is all a grift, he thinks. Kessler’s at his ear, chuckling - she ain’t bright enough for that.) You lift his glass and leave your lipstick behind.

“Oh my god.” You sputter, pound a fist against your chest. It makes your tits bounce. Fucking miracle your shirt is containing those things. “That tastes like ass.”

“That is the highest quality scotch this bar serves.”

“It tastes like someone put a cigarette out in a glass of whiskey.”

“It’s a shit bar.”

You laugh, head tipped back, nose scrunched - the works. You’re too tipsy for it to be on purpose. Being cute comes naturally to you. Must be how you’ve made it this far.

You pass his drink back and scoot your cosmo closer to you, spilling it as the glass skips over the pock-marked countertop. Butcher snorts, dabs it up for you with his sleeve. He’s starting to think his theory about the cosmopolitans might hold true.

“Well, here, a trade’s a trade.” He takes your drink by the stem (fucking amazed they even have martini glasses in this place) and pounds back a mouthful.

It isn’t that bad, but he makes a show of scrunching his nose and shaking his head. He slides your drink back over to you and mirrors the way you had clung to your drink.

“You’re kidding,” you laugh. “It’s better than yours. I don’t know how you drink that.”

“I’ll keep my liquid ashtray, thanks.”

Your eyes are all lit up when you smile, but it emphasizes the raw edges, the puffiness that lingers. Rough night for you, by the looks of it. Not like he’s having much of a better one.

There’s no harm in it. No harm in showing you what a proper drink tastes like, broadening your horizons and helping you both forget what a shit hand you’ve been dealt. He buys you a drink on the condition that you try something that isn’t a cosmopolitan. You can hardly stomach a whiskey and coke. He orders you a fernet and coke for shits and giggles, expects you to spit it out like all the rest, barks out a laugh when you declare it’s tasty, notes of lavender drawing you in. Notes of lavender - Christ, what fucking suburb did you pop out of? 

He introduces you to more drinks, leans closer with each empty glass. You're new here, you tell him. You tell him your name, too, not that he remembers. Got stood up on some shitty date. He knows it’s got to be shitty because what idiot in his right mind would take you here, of all places?

By the time he orders you both shots of Rumple Minze, you’re pressed shoulder to shoulder. Your hand splays against his chest, head leaning against him. You lift his shot to his lips for him and he’s too drunk to find it childish and irritating. He downs it and does the same for you, watches you extend that pretty neck to drink it down.

“I’ll get you a cab,” he slurs, rocking unsteadily to his feet.

“I already called an Uber.”

Jesus. It’s a struggle not to roll his eyes. Fucking kids. Allergic to one night stands, couldn’t take a hint to save their life. Even Kessler is on his side, his head thunking against the bartop.

It's for the best, he thinks, trying to curb his disappointment. He's got shit to do. Ryan to worry about. Kessler's a right cunt, pushing him to you. He hasn't got the time to be fucking about. This entire thing had been a waste of time, too busy trying to get his dick wet to make the most of what he’s got left.

Butcher stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat, steps back, ready to split and stumble his way back home. He nods quick and sharp, tight-lipped smile to keep his frustration locked behind his teeth.

You show him your phone, make him squint to see what he’s supposed to be looking at. “My Uber is still a couple minutes away, so…”

Kessler picks his head up from the bar. He's a bloodhound for pussy. He picks up the leading edge in your voice before Butcher’s even done parsing your words.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Kessler drones. “You can’t even get it up, can you?”

“I’m damn well going to try.”

“What?” You laugh, swaying on your feet.

Butcher wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you against his side. “Nothin’. Don’t you worry about it. I’ll keep you company. Make sure no nasties try to get you.”

The cold outside is bracing. You wrap your arms tight around yourself and this time Butcher’s too drunk to pretend he isn't staring at the way your tits press together.

It’s your idea. Really. The way you look up at him, the way your lips stay parted while the pair of you pace the sidewalk. You wrap your hand around his bicep and squeeze, eyes drifting slowly to the side, to the alleyway just a few strides away.

See? It’s your idea, honest. He drags you behind a dumpster, pins you to the wall of the alley, and shoves his tongue down your throat, yeah, but you moan so fucking loud and drag him closer. It takes longer than he'd like for your hand to stop massaging his chest and start fondling his cock, but you're a sweet girl - don't seem the type to do this too often. Need some guidance.

Butcher lays his hand atop yours, wraps your fingers tighter around his bulge. Your breath hitches, your eyes flicking down to your hand, mouth popped open - got this sweet, vacant little look in your eye.

He'd bet real money you go dumb for cock.

“$50 says you can get her to call you ‘daddy’,” Kessler pipes up, leaning against the wall next to you. He tips a cigarette into his mouth, cups a hand around to light it, and Butcher swears the light from his zippo gleam in your eyes. He doesn’t doubt it. Seems cruel, though, especially when he can’t remember your name.

“What was your name again?”

It takes a bit for you to get dick off your mind and fish around for your name. You mumble, make him lean in close and tilt his head to get you to say it again, clearer.

You're the obedient sort. Pick up on cues so easy. Don't even make him ask for it again. He pats your cheek, smirk creasing his face.

By your side, Kessler flashes a crisp $50. He plucks it taut, fans himself with it, makes a real show of being a dick while you try to take Butcher's out of his pants.

At the end of the day, 50 quid is 50 quid.

“How ‘bout you ask daddy for permission, sweetheart?”

Your mouth moves wordlessly.

“Please?”

He clicks his tongue. “That’s real polite. But it ain’t what I asked for, is it?”

“Can I please play with your cock, daddy?”

“Better.”

Kessler slips the fifty into Butcher’s coat pocket while you fumble with his belt and free him from his pants. You lay his cock in the seam of your hands, cupping him like he’s a gift on two legs. You stroke him reverently, look up at him with big, thoughtless lamb eyes.

Your heart’s in it, but you’re too reserved for his taste. He grips your hand in his and guides you down his cock, shows you when to squeeze, when to twist your wrist, how to flick your thumb over the slit of his tip.

He can never make it last when he drinks. Should have warned you before he came on your pretty skirt, but you’ve got a natural talent for stroking dick. He keeps his groan locked up tight. It rattles through his chest and he leans into you, crushing you against the wall of the alley. His hips stutter and rut into your hand, still wrapped around him, coaxing every drop from his tip. You still toy with him while he tries to catch his breath. He’s got to push away from you with a mumbled “Christ, all right, that’s enough.”

It’s like he’s taking your favorite toy away. You pout up at him, hand still molded for his cock by your side, by the skirt his ruined with his cum. He almost gets an apology out, but you drag a finger through his mess and bring it to your lips, make a show of licking it up.

His chest aches. He isn’t sure if it’s the tumor or his heart desperately trying to pump enough blood down to his dick to get him up again.

Butcher crams two fingers into his mouth and scrapes the dirt from beneath his nails with his teeth. The rest is a blur. He knows that he kicks your feet apart, traces your slit through your panties before he pushes them to the side and finger fucks you until your head snaps back against the wall. It’s quick, messy - leaves his forearm soaked. He’s not so sure that was real, but he’s too drunk to figure it out, too gone ask.

He tucks himself back into his pants. You set your panties back in place, skirt still hiked up to your ribs. You slip a little lower down the wall, panting. He stops you before you can slip all the way down, pats your cunt, and tugs your skirt back into place.

“Let’s get you a cab, eh?”

That’s the last thing he remembers clearly. You’d missed your Uber, had to take a cab with him anyway. He remembers you leaning against him, tucked up against his side, hand stroking his chest. He’d pet your hair - soft as lamb’s wool - and whispered nonsense against your head just to get a laugh out of you. After you get out, the whole thing’s blank.

When Butcher wakes up at 2 PM the next day, choking on his own vomit, he can't find the 50 quid. He turns his jacket inside out searching for it. A scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it falls from his jacket pocket. He doesn’t spare it more than a glance and keeps digging for his wallet.

Lambs lose their appeal after the flying cunts nearly bit his cock off.

That farm had been dirty business. Wicked stuff, the kind that doesn't wash off. This work always has been, but this time the blood doesn't come out from under his fingernails. He tastes bile every time he breathes. The copper twang of blood trickling down the back of his throat is the only chaser he gets anymore.

He doesn't think of you often. He knows it'd break your little heart to hear it, have you looking up at him with those ‘fuck me, I'm sad’ eyes and that little girl pout that makes him feel every bit the lech he is. You’re a sweet thing. Vacant, just like him. It didn’t take long to piece that together.

You’re easy and malleable, quick to fit yourself around him in whatever way he demands. He liked that about you at first.

But when he calls on you at three in the morning for a quick lay and you answer the door in a full face of make-up, hair done and wearing the sort of nightgown that no one actually sleeps in, all he feels is distaste.

You let him crowd you against your couch (a neutral color, no blanket in sight, your living room just as blank as the rest of you) without so much as a ‘hello’. You hook a leg over his hip. No panties, he realizes, eyes locked on your drippy cunt, already flushed. Been touching yourself to the thought of this. He warms a little at the thought.

Butcher wedges his knee between your leg and grinds. Any warmth you’d kindled with wet pussy dissipates the moment you moan so goddamn loud, the sound hollow and plastic. He keeps his leg still, flexes his thigh for you to grind on. His jaw tightens. He nearly shoves his fingers in your mouth to keep you from making those stupid fucking noises.

You let him twist you up however he wants, more a posable toy than a person. He pushes you further along the couch until your back arches awkwardly against the arm. You don't protest. Of course you don't.

His thick fingers trail down your slit, part your slick folds for his inspection. He sways back on his haunches, admires the pretty way he's got you arranged, pinned open on his fingers for him.

He brings his hand down sharply on pussy once, twice - and the third time directly to your clit is just because you kept making that annoying fucking noise. That nasally, porn-star whine that drills him between the eyes and makes his hard-on flag. The way you twitch and jerk at each hit might be genuine but that fucking noise drives him up a wall. Christ, there's got to be something about you that's real.

Pussy’s real. Can’t fake that, he thinks.

“Stay right there,” he says, a bite to his voice when you try to shift against him again. If you could just lay there and take it - is that so much to ask for?

He guides himself to you, hips rocking experimentally. You suck his head in and his chin dips to his chest. He groans deep. It turns to a growl when you raise your hips. He lays his forearm against you, pressing you down - and that moan might have been real.

“Can't you do fucking anything right?” He snaps. His hips push forward, bullying himself deeper into you. You suck a breath through your teeth, your hand bracing against his forearm. “I told you to stay right there.”

A spark of indignation flickers in your eyes, flash-fire flushed out by the same pitiful little lamb wool you pull back over your eyes. Makes you look all downy, plush and fuckable - he's fished more respectable shits from the toilet.

You’re a good girl for a few more shallow thrusts, lay there just like he wants while he works himself to the hilt. He finds his rhythm sloppily, one knee propped on the couch, the other foot planted on the floor. Your tits bounce with every thrust and he’s stupid enough to take his hands off of you, trust you not to move while he gropes at your breast.

Immediately you rise to your elbows, try to arch your back deeper. He’s positive you’re trying to mimic some video, down to the exact angle of your spine, but your heart isn’t in it. His cock butts against your walls, shallower than before, the pleasure that had been tearing through his blood coming to a screeching halt. He hisses through his teeth, grinding out his frustration.

“Don't –” his shoves you back down, hand flattening against your cheek and pushing your face into the couch. Feels fucking awful any other position. “–fucking move. Don't fucking move. Trying to cum. Goddammit.”

Your hands curl into fists by your head. You hide your face, press it deeper into the cushion and he presses your face deeper to help you. The noise you make is pitiful, but at least it's real.

Fucking hell. Now he’s completely out of it. You’ve gone and fucked up pussy for him. He didn’t think that was possible. He can’t find the angle he needs, can’t get back to that gummy spot that make his vision blur.

He pulls out and flips you onto your stomach, ignoring the little whine you make. You don’t raise your hips - god forbid you take a fucking hint - so he sits you up for him and wedges his dick back in. It only takes a few thrusts for him to realize this is worse. Tighter, dry, chafing his dick like goddamn sandpaper.

“Your cunt shrivel up or something? Feels fucking terrible.”

He snatches your wrist, pulls your arm back at an angle that makes you cry out, and fills your palm with lube. Can't even get wet on your own. Fucking Christ, he's got to do everything for you. Even has to curl your fingers around his cock, drag your hand back and forth until you final get the big, swinging fucking hint and jerk him off.

He meant to stuff himself back into your cunt, but at this point your hand will do. Six one way, half a dozen the other. At least your hand doesn't chafe.

You’re silent now. Small mercies. The only sounds are the slick of your palm working him over and his labored breaths. Your hand is clumsy at this angle, but he’s not going to risk letting you move and fuck it all up again.

Once he’s close, he drops your hand and flips you onto your back again. A big hand presses your knees apart, opens you up for him. You're still so pliable, even if the sheen is gone from your cunt. You try to fix your hair. If he notices the tears brimming your eyes, he doesn't say anything.

He lines himself back up with your cunt, dragging himself through your folds. Your knees knock closer with each pass of his bright red tip over your clit. He taps it once with his cock, expecting another produced moan to rattle the walls, but you only whimper, your thighs trying to close around him.

Butcher smirks. He pumps himself into you, keeps himself shallow - just the tip past your puffy lips. 

You whimper, try to shuffle down and take more of him. Butcher’s hand grips your face, squishing your cheeks so hard it stings.

“Don't you fucking move,” he grits out. You used to take instruction so well. Now you've gotten all up in your own head. Nobody likes an uppity bitch, he ought to make you see that.

What he really ought to do is make you get down there and jerk him off. Your hand is still slicked, but you'd probably piss yourself at the chance. Instead, he pushes your knees damn near up to your ears and barks for you to hold your own legs. Your hands curl around the backs of your knees. There you go. Figuring it out again.

His hand strokes his dick quick and hard, one hand dedicated to keeping himself just inside you. It doesn't take long for him to cum. It’s a slow burn that seeps up through his belly, lattices up his ribs and congeals in his chest, makes him ache and cave over your body while his hips sputter. He squeezes himself dry, pumps his cum into your pussy until it flows past his tip and seeps down onto your couch. 

Butcher lingers over you, catching his breath. He’s already gone soft, his cock dropped out of you. He sits back against the opposite arm of the couch, splays himself out while you curl up.

Something burns in his chest - remorse, maybe. You’re all curled up against your couch, cheek cushioned on your arm - won’t look at him, don’t paw at him or lean against his side, don’t even reach to clean yourself up.

His head knocks back to the ceiling. He can’t be bothered to pull answers out of you. He reaches for the tissue box on your coffee table, plucks a handful, and cleans himself off.

He tosses the box back to the coffee table and shoves his boots back on, barely taking the time to lace them up properly. He scoops he coat up from where you’d shucked it onto the floor, buttons himself back up, and you still haven’t moved. His eyes linger on you for a moment, brow set low.

Can’t be bothered, he reminds himself. He runs a hand through his hair and makes for your door, boots thunking heavily against your floors.

“Can I see you again?”

You’ve managed to pick your head up when he glances back at you. You sound so desperate it's pitiful. His lip curls. He runs a hand over his head, looks anywhere but you.

Christ, even your apartment is blank and devoid of personality. He hadn't noticed it before, too consumed with the need to get between your thighs. He shrugs, and gives you a lifeless smile.

“We'll see.”

Butcher closes your door behind him and hurries down the hall. He turns the corner to see Kessler’s cheshire grin greeting him in the dark of your stairwell.

He ought to get right with you before his time comes. He isn't proud of the way things ended. Butcher’s a right bastard, but he isn't blind; he'd seen the look on your face, the hopeful shine in your eyes dulling when he'd left you there without so much as a ‘cheers, love, thanks for the rub’.

He doesn't bother texting you. He's already posted up outside your apartment. Giving you a heads up would only give him time to pussy out.

Besides, you're home. He knows it. You’re piss-easy to track. Home to work, work to home, same route, same time. It will be easy to knock on your door, get his closure, and slip out of your life for the last time.

It should be easy. He’s had harder conversations with people who meant more to him but he keeps staring at your door, trying to will himself to knock. He’s not that weak yet. He can still raise his hand.

Butcher turns to leave just as you open the door. His shoulders tense when you call out to him.

“Billy?” You blurt out. There’s genuine surprise there.

“I just thought I’d –” He turns to catch a glimpse of you and it sends him headlong into silence.

You look a right mess. No face isn’t done up, an oversized t-shirt draping off your shoulders. Your pajama pants are fluffy, snowflake print - tackiest thing he’s seen in a while. 

You duck your head down, trying to catch his eye. 

“You okay?” You hook your thumb over your shoulder. “Want to come in?”

He doesn’t. Not even a little. He wants to rip the band-aid off, forget he ever met you and let you get on with your life - whatever it is you do. But you step to the side and fix him with a weak little smile that he thinks might be real, and his feet take him in through the door.

It’s a nice place in the daytime, he realizes. Natural sunlight, open floorplan, your shelves crowded with plants and knick-knacks he’s never seen. You offer him a drink, laugh when he says water and fall quiet when he insists.

You hand him his drink and collapse onto your couch. Your legs kick up onto your coffee table, and for the first time he realizes your socks are fuzzy, too. He looks around, scans you from head to toe. Is this the right place? He keeps picking at his nails, trying to free the grime from under them.

Once you realize he’s baffled, you’re merciful enough to start the small talk. It’s awkward and stilted - his fault, his answers halting and quick. You give him grace, sip on your drink. Your laughs never quite reach your eyes, but you scoot closer to him on the couch anyway.

“Why are you really here, Billy?” Your hand settles on his thigh and curls inward.

It’s not how he wanted this to go, but he doesn’t stop you from sliding your hand higher while he chokes on his words. You’ve got his belt undone by the time he manages to string a sentence together.

“I've been a right cunt to you.”

“Mhm.”

“You don't got to put up with it, yeah?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Got your whole life right ahead of you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Fucking Christ, could you give him more than a noise? A few moments ago you’d held a conversation with him.

His irritation is snuffed out by your lips wrapping around the tip of his cock and sucking hard. Your hand pumps his shaft, twisting your wrist on the way back up. Good God, you learn quick.

Butcher could spoil you rotten if he had the time. He could get you whatever you wanted - if ever you wanted for anything. He cups a hand over the back of your head, encouraging, not guiding.

You’re methodical. You let your hand work what your mouth won’t reach, fondle his balls with the other one. It’s clinical. You’ve committed the moves to memory, when to swirl your tongue, hollow your cheeks, when to moan around him, when to look up at him with those tears straining at your waterline.

He finishes quick, his chest heaving. You pass him his water while you reach for a tissue box. He drains it and nearly misses you spitting his cum into a tissue, wadding it up and tossing it into the bin.

“I haven’t got much time left,” he says, breathless.

Your brow creases. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, your lips swollen. “What?”

“I’ve got this –” he gestures nebulously with a hand, like he’s trying to pluck the right words out of the air. “– thing. In my brain, see? Inoperable. So, if I up and vanish on you, it ain’t personal.”

You stay silent, stone faced. He wishes you’d say something. Even one of the irritating platitudes people like to parrot would be better than this. Your eyes harden. You purse your lips, breathe deep, and stand from the couch.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, Billy. It was good to see you.”

Butcher’s still trying to catch his breath. He tucks himself back into his pants, a mess he’ll clean up later, and rises unsteadily. You don’t reach out to help. He makes another nebulous gesture towards you, his hand quivering.

“You want me to..?”

“Nah. Don’t strain yourself.”

He stuffs himself back into his coat, watching your eyes linger - maybe realizing for the first time how much slighter he’s looking. Butcher pats your cheek gently as he passes by.

You don’t ask to see him again. For your sake, he hopes this is the last time.

[xlpoww]

bad for business

hi!! this is my second attempt at writing since middle school- so excuse me for it being so short/bad lol!! i had started recently watching one piece with my boyfriend and then the live action came out and i fell even more head over heels in love with sanji this is a result of that

no warnings!

word count: 620

opla! sanji x f!reader

songfic-> bad for business by sabrina carpenter

CONTINUATION (but also not a part 2) jealousy, jealousy

life on the baratie wasn’t always easy, lovely nonetheless. you couldn’t imagine trading it for anything, even if it meant having to watch your flirtatious crush work his magic on every lady in the room.

good for his heart..

sanji vinsmoke is a flirt. no one talks sweeter than the young chef with dreams of the all blue.

“now what for the lovely mademoiselle?” 

his voice floats through the air with a charm none could replicate. you don't even have to turn your head to know the question was paired with a charming smile. he might have even winked at the girl. 

her flustered giggle fills the air as she blushes up at the blonde. ordering with a smile like she’s won the lottery, her blue eyes lock on him as he retreats to the kitchen for the wine requested. 

with a chuckle and and shake of your head, you continue clearing the table in front of you. the tall blonde man was quite the smooth talker, and did a wonderful job to keep the woman with deep pockets coming back. so who were you to complain that he was so sweet?

his heart was already spoken for.

…but very bad for business

you’re no stranger to the lustful stares of the restaurant guests, and have learned to mostly turn a blind eye to them. though, every once in a while a girl takes it a little too far with him.

as you walk by her table, tray full of food in hand, you can’t help but notice her heated stare. it wasn’t directed at you, but your best friend speaking to another round table of guests. slightly on guard, you continue on towards table 6, smiling sweetly at the brunette man who winks at you as you place the ribs down on the table in front of him. 

“I didn’t realize Baratie had started hiring models? how much do they pay a pretty thing like you huh?”

you feign bashfulness, looking off to the side with a giggle.

“not enough you make it seem”

of course you’re more than used to the gross things some of the guests would utter about you (to your face nonetheless); so you knew to brace yourself a bit. but the man doesn’t escalate any further, shaking his head with a laugh that hints to you the size of the tip you’ll be getting. you turn back to him, once again smiling and telling him to let you know if they needed anything else, tucking your tray under your arm and walking back towards the kitchen.

all of my friends think i've gone crazy-

“that blonde at table 8 seems to have her eye on you-” you jest, walking up to sanji with a waggle of your eyebrows. he scoffs at you, a smile forming as he winks 

“doesn’t every woman who walks into the restaurant?” he brushes past you, placing a hand on your shoulder to steady himself as he goes. you find yourself turning your head to follow his movement, grabbing onto his hand and using it to pull him closer. he seems surprised when you tug him down to your level to whisper in his ear.

“i'm sure i could show you a better time than she could” a wink finished off your flirty statement. it’s a it of a struggle to hold in the satisfied giggle, and you walk back off to go take another table’s order.

sanji’s face is dusted with a pretty pink as he stares after you, not that you would have been able to notice. 

you would also fail to hear the teasing of some of the kitchen staff after you left,

“damn casanova, i’ve never seen you left so speechless”

“she’s gonna give you a run for your money lover boy!”

there was a way only you could make his heart race.

-but they don't know me like my babyyy

[lustchan]

POV: You are a maid in Gojo Satoru’s house and he comes back from work one day very stressed. So you try to cheer him up by making his favourite meal but it looks like he wants to eat something else 😏😏. Pt.2 ft. Suguru Geto

"Aah~ Master, I-I'm cumming," You said.

"Haa, me too baby," He said. After a few more thrusts your body shook as your orgasm rippled throughout yourself. At the same time you felt Gojo release hot liquid inside your twitching pussy. When both of you rode out your orgasms, Gojo flipped you over looking at you as you lay panting on the bed. Then he run his hand through his white hair and smirked down on you as he put one of your legs over his shoulder, his dick up against his stomach again.

"Time for round two~"

Gojo pushed his long thick manhood into your hot cavern , stroking your clit with his free hand and leaning into you as he readjusted your leg that was on his shoulder. He closed his eyes , grunting as the rest of his dick slipped into you with ease as you were so wet. Your breath hitched as he started rubbing circles on your throbbing clit, hitting your g-spot every time he thrusted into you and kissing you senseless . 

"Aaah~ mmm, ngh~ ," You moaned out shamelessly arching your back in pleasure.

All of a sudden there was a knock on the door and a tall maid with long wavy hair down her back came into the room covering her eyes with a fan.

Gojo rolled his eyes and raked his hands through his hair with his fingers, taking his member out of you and pulling up his pants to face the door

"Um, a visitor is here to see Gojo-san," She said moving back all of a sudden to reveal a tall man with long black hair that trailed his back . The man stared at you as you stared back in disbelief.

"G-Geto?!" You exclaimed in a desperate attempt to cover yourself up with the silk bedsheets that coated the bed. Geto was in your high school and you hadn't seen him in so long.

Geto looked at you in shock and then down to your naked body, licking his lips and then back to your face. Gojo saw this and didn't look very pleased.

"What?" Gojo asked rudely.

Geto chuckled running a hand through his hair and he walked into the room unbuttoning his shirt and approaching the bed.

"What the fuck are you doing," Gojo growled as Geto dangerously neared the bed.

"Haha Gojo my brother, why do you greet me this way?" He removed his shirt. "You haven't seen me in so long and this is the first thing you say?"

"I don't give a damn about you and you are not my brother!" Gojo shouted at him, anger and resentment showing on his face. "I ask you again-"

"Okay, okay. But Father is ever so worried about you and ordered me to check up on you. I suppose you are quite alright given you seem to be enjoying yourself a bit too much, I'll tell Father about your surprising adventures with your maid hahaha," He said winking at you. 

Gojo looked panic-stricken at the mention of "Father". He looked over at you and then at Geto.

"What do you need to shut your ugly crusty mouth," He said with a sigh.

Geto laughed under his hand.

"Let me join."

"WHAT?! HECK NO!" Gojo shouted angrily. Geto laughed again.

"You heard me, let me join, or else I'll tell Father,"

Gojo massaged the bridge of his nose, it seemed he was really scared of this Father guy.

"Only if Y/N is ok with it," He finally said looking at you for your approval. You didn't want to put Gojo in trouble for something so trivial so you nodded shakily much to Gojo's obvious disproval and Geto's pleasure.

"Should we begin?" Geto said with a smirk.

Geto knelt of the floor and immediately started to feast upon your pussy. Gojo didn't waste anytime shoving his cock in your mouth, choking you. Geto was very very talented with his mouth, the way his tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, the way his cool breath hit your warmth.

You couldn't help but feel turned on as the idea of you getting fucked by two incredibly fine men sunk in to your brain. Geto was ever so gentle fingering you, his long digits entering you and leaving you cold anytime he pulled out.

Gojo on the other hand was a lot more aggressive than earlier which made you realise he was angry but the only thing you could do was suck his dick as he pushed further into you. You locked eyes with him and took him deeper in your mouth, your eyes watering as you gagged on his inhuman sized length. His face softened as he watched you try your best to take him all in your mouth.

Geto looked up and grew furious as he watched you and Gojo look at each other intimately. He unbuckled his pants and took out his big girthy dick. You were startled by his size and watched him as he stroked his cock. Gojo pulled out of your mouth and appeared in between your legs standing next to Geto as both of them seemed to be positioning themselves to enter you. You quickly realised and started to panic.

"Wait, wait ,wait. What are you guys doing?"

Gojo glared at Geto and Geto chuckled.

"I mean, I was trying to fuck yo-," Geto started.

"No." Gojo cut him off.  "Not happening,"

" Wait whyyy," Geto whined. They started bickering like 7 year old brothers so they didn't even hear you whisper something. Gojo turned around to you to see your head hanging low muttering something under your breath.

"Did you say something Y/N?" He enquired.

You looked up, paused and then spoke.

"I said....that..maybe...," You took a deep breath. "Maybe both of you could do it at the same time," You quickly looked down in shame, your breath shaky and hands trembling, not knowing what could happen next.

"Hmmmmm," Geto started after 20 or so seconds of silence. "That would be nice I guess,"

Gojo looks at you in shock.

"Are you sure ?" He inquired with a worried look.

You nodded your head lying back on the bed and spreading your pussy open.

"Come on, I want it," you said with a sexy look in your eyes.

Gojo snapped and started preparing your ass to take him, pushing his fingers past the ring of muscle. It was uncomfortable but you got used to it as Geto distracted you by kissing you. His tongue was hot and feverish as it snaked down your throat. You whimpered against his mouth, arching your back in pleasure as your asshole started to feel good because of Gojo's long fingers. You could hardly breathe when he was pumping so deep inside.

Gojo then positioned himself, moving Geto out of the way and lining himself below you. Geto held your thighs and spread your legs as far as they would go back, pushing his fat tip in your tight, wet hole. They both simultaneously pushed into you and you felt like you were being ripped apart by the two large, girthy, veiny cocks.

You screamed out, your eyes rolling back and back arching off Gojo as they pulled out and slammed back into you. The feeling was so euphoric you couldn't help but moan as the sound of the two men railing you bounced off the walls.

"Ugh, princess you feel so good," Geto moaned into your mouth.

Gojo grabbed your boobs and rolled your nipples in between his fingers, biting and licking your neck and littering your neck with hickeys and bites. You could hear him panting and groaning behind you and it turned you on even more.

"Aaah, mmgh, please, nghhh, slow, ahhh," You barely could get the words out as you slipped into a completely cock-drunk state. Geto's mouth left your and trailed down to suck your nipples making you whine. You noticed that Gojo hadn't said anything in a while so you looked back at him and was met with his gaze. Low lust-filled blue eyes stared were already staring at you and it sent a shiver through you. He then grabbed you face and kissed you roughly, his tongue dominating yours in a crazed frenzy and spitting in your mouth filthily.

"Swallow." He commanded. And you did, feeling his saliva mixed with yours slide down your throat as you looked up at him, sticking out your tongue to show him that you swallowed it.

"Good girl," And then he reached down and started toying with your clit and he moved deeper inside you, his balls slapping against your skin. Geto let out an array of moans and whimpers as he got closer to his thrusts got sloppier in your warm pussy. Your tits bounce as Gojo and Geto are ramming into you at an animalistic pace, Geto threw his head back as he panted and moaned louder and louder.

"F-fuck, you feel so good, I'm gonna cum," Geto said as he sped up his thrusts. "You gonna take my cum pretty girl, huh, oh fuck," Geto smashed his mouth into yours as he came, hot ropes of cum painting your insides white.

It turned you on to see Geto so pussydrunk and a moaning mess, fucking his cum into you and Gojo wouldn't stop playing with your clit and fucking you harder.

You couldn't take it anymore when Gojo bit down hard on your collarbone and your orgasm hit you like a truck. You saw white as it rippled through you body and you shook on Gojo's cock bringing him to his climax as he released in you with a groan.

"So fucking tight baby," Gojo grunted as he turned your head towards him to messily make out with you. Geto watched as he slowly pulled out of your pussy that was dripping with yours and his cum. He watched his cum ooze out of you and felt his dick twitch.

Gojo slid his dick out of you and kissed your forehead before speaking.

"Keep your promise," he said to Geto who had a smirk on his face, putting back on his clothes.

"Yeah, yeah." he then turned to you, stroking your face. "This was fun, princess, we should do this again."

Gojo swatted his hand away. "Leave. Now."

Geto smiled at you before waving bye and leaving the room. You looked at Gojo who shook his head before running his hands down the sides of your body and picking you up. You squealed as he picked you up as if you weighed nothing.

"Omg put me down I can walk," you said with a giggle.

Gojo chuckled, making his way to his bathroom to clean you up. He ran you a warm bath and helped wash your body while all you could do was look up at him with heart eyes.

When you were both washed and cleaned, Gojo led you to his queen bed and both of you lay down to rest after your eventful evening.

As your heartbeat slowed and your eyes started to close, Gojo reached down and kissed your forehead whispering.

"Goodnight, Y/n."

hello readers 🤗

i had a lot of fun writing this so dont forget to let me know if you enjoyed it as well. also my commissions are open !! so if you have any requests please let me know and ill gladly write it for you. ty for reading 🩷

[innorogers]

Lull

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: So this is when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking.

Warning: Fluff / SMUT / MINORS DNI / 18+ / Unprotected Sex /

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Natasha Romanoff

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia

You slipped through the streets like shadows, holding hands, hearts racing, eyes darting over your shoulders, every sound amplified by the silence of the night. The Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder – or ‘Magic Stark-Potter Thing’ as Steve was calling it – had granted you some safe time. But time was fragile, and you both knew it.

Your powers pulsed beneath your skin, guiding Steve with quiet certainty. You could feel the city’s pulse, see through the walls, and peer into the hidden corners of every alley. You led him down paths that no one else knew, invisible threads pulling you toward safety. The streets, immersed in late hours after midnight, stretched before you like the remnants of some secret map.

When you reached a narrow street swallowed by the night, you knelt down and moved a pile of old garbage cans aside, revealing a small, grimy basement window. You glanced back at Steve, and gestured for him to follow you down.

Turned out to be an underground club, and the party was just getting good.

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke. Neon lights painted the walls in erratic colors—electric blues and deep reds—while people shouted over the pounding music, their laughter swallowed by the deafening noise.

You exchanged a look with Steve as you pushed through the crowd. His usual composed demeanor flickered, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene while staying close behind you. You weaved through the press of bodies, brushing against strangers lost in their own worlds, music vibrating through your bones as you both made your way to the other side. It felt like a different universe—one that was wild, loud, and completely unaware of the chaos lurking outside its walls.

“I need a computer!” You raised your voice so he could hear.

“I really don’t think you’ll find one here.” He almost laughed, holding your waist and waving through the people around you as you moved forward.

“I know.” You tilted your jaw. “But that’s perfect, look.” You pointed to the computer they used as a register to take orders. “An older one, probably. I need to enter an untraceable code; our network is probably compromised, so I need to notify the only being who can’t be hacked or corrupted.”

“Really?” Now he was intrigued. “Who?”

“Vision.” You continued to scan the place as you moved through the dancing crowd. “These machines won’t work, they’re plugged into their private network. I’ll need something connected to the outside. C'mon… let’s go to another floor.” It was a huge underground bar, so you held Steve’s hand and moved to the stairs.

“I think we’ve got company.” Steve tightened his grip as he noticed some guys entering the floor. They looked like military—tense poses and sharp, alert eyes scanning the place. He looked up and saw more of them on the floor above, near the exits and moving through the whole place.

“Let’s go, we don’t have much time. I think there’s some gear on me that’s making us trackable.” You hurried with him to go down, but stopped when those military men started coming from downstairs. You pulled him aside, hiding in a dark corner, but they weren’t leaving. Steve’s figure—tall, handsome, blonde—was too easy to recognize. A lot of women (and men) were looking at him with flirtatious eyes, intrigued.

You passed by corridors and stairs full of people, using your powers and his sensitive perception to navigate the space. The men didn’t notice you were there, but their eyes were everywhere.

You felt Steve’s body tense beside you, ready to attack at any moment, and the place would turn into hell if that happened. You cupped his face, pulling him closer to the wall, your eyes scanning behind him.

“I’ve always wanted to do this with you…” You smirked as the men passed by, and with your hand on his neck, you kissed him deeply.

Shit. Steve’s body went rigid.

This was the worst place and the worst time, but somehow, it felt so right. He’d almost forgotten how much he needed this. The moment your lips met his, your body pressed against his, the scent of smoke and debris clinging to you from the chase. But your kiss, it grounded him—reminded him why every risk was worth it.

He kissed you in the flicker of shadows, under the flashing lights, in a dark corner of an underground club. Drunk, dancing strangers moved in their own ecstasy, oblivious to the danger. It wasn’t something he ever imagined doing, but then again, you always brought the unexpected. And again...How could you ever think he’d choose anyone else over you? Over this?

He deepened the kiss, pinning you to the wall, his tongue brushing yours, and it felt so right… you tasted like sweetness, laced with something wild, like sin and salvation entwined.

“Steve…” You broke away, eyes still on the men as they passed, and he lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist. You grinned. “I really don’t think this is the time…”

“Well…” He chuckled, voice rough. “I think it’s the perfect time for this.”

“Come on. Let’s move now that we have the chance.” You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before starting to move.

Taking advantage of the lack of enemies in sight, you made it to the last floor through doors and hidden passageways and arrived at what seemed to be a VIP room.

“There we go.” Your eyes locked onto a computer next to a more sophisticated bar. “That’ll do.” But as you approached, Steve’s senses sharpened, picking up the tension of a threat.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw a group of men—tall, armed, and bearing the unmistakable faces of movie villains. Why do they always look like the bad guys? He sighed, slowly rolling up his sleeves. Well, it was about damn time. He had been holding back this feeling of wanting to punch someone ever since a bomb exploded near your car.

“Mmm?” You turned back and noticed the surroundings. The only guy who had been on a date at a corner table rushed out with his partner as soon as the room filled with the approaching men, circling both of you. He was even polite enough to close the door behind him.

“Oh.” You blinked at the 1, 2, 3… 15 men surrounding you.

“Gentlemen, there’s really no need for this to escalate…” You advised as the tension thickened, movements slowing to a crawl before the inevitable first strike.

“Shut up, doll. We’ll take care of you later.” Said the man who seemed to be their leader, smirking at you. “And believe me, you’ll be well attended.”

“Oh … you really shouldn’t have said that.” You shook your head, already sensing Steve’s fists clenching in response.

“Sir, you’re about to get the smash of your life…” You spun just in time to grab the bartender’s hand as he reached for a weapon beneath the desk, a fight breaking out behind you. “Please don’t do that.” You blinked at him. “I just need to borrow your computer, okay?”

“Um…” The bartender, startled by your strong grip, noticed the Avengers logo on your gear and quickly reconsidered. “Um… this thing runs on Windows Millennium. Like…Yikes.” He gestured at the ancient machine. “Don’t you need something, I don’t know, more modern?”

“It’ll do, thanks.” You hopped over the bar counter and began typing. “If it doesn’t send Vision a signal, it’ll at least ping him with a virus warning.”

The moment Steve moved, the air shifted.

The first punch landed with the force of a freight train, sending one of the goons crashing into a table, shattering glass and upending chairs. Chaos erupted in the room as fists and bodies collided. Steve ducked under a wild swing, his movements sharp and precise, retaliating with a brutal uppercut that left another attacker sprawled on the floor. Damn, this is so boring. A punching bag in the training room felt even heavier.

One of the armed men lunged at him with a knife, but Steve twisted to the side, catching the man’s wrist and flipping him over with ease. The crack of bones echoed as the thug hit the ground hard, and Steve was already turning, launching a swift kick into another man’s chest, sending him crashing through the VIP room’s thin partition wall.

“Babe, you got that?” He moved his head, avoiding a knife—or whatever sharp thing was coming from the back—grabbed the guy by his arm, and twisted it like a towel.

“Just a sec.” You were typing the commands as bottles clinked and tables flew across the room, the thumping bass from the club floor below barely audible over the grunts and crashes of the fight. 

“Just… okay, there.” You turned to the bartender: “Do you want me to upgrade this system for you?”

The bartender wanted to answer, but suddenly bent over as a guy was thrown and hit against the wine cellar. He covered his head and screamed, so you raised your eyebrows and took that as a no.

With only three men left standing, they hesitated for a moment, locking eyes with each other as if silently deciding who would make the first move. But that took forever, and Steve was getting bored. He lunged forward, grabbing the nearest man by the collar, lifting him effortlessly before slamming him down onto the tables, the impact scattering bottles and glasses across the floor.

Before the next guy could even react, Steve spun, delivering a swift elbow to the second man’s jaw, sending him reeling backward into a bookshelf, knocking it over with a deafening crash.

The last man, clearly outmatched, pulled out a gun in a desperate attempt to regain control. But Steve was faster. In one fluid motion, he ducked low, dodging the shot, and surged forward, ripping the gun from the man’s hand and delivering a bone-crushing punch to his gut. The man doubled over in pain, gasping for breath, before Steve finished him off with a knee to the face, leaving him crumpled on the ground.

The room was now littered with unconscious bodies, shattered glass, and overturned furniture.

“Wow…” You said in awe. “You didn’t even sweat.” You were thinking that he sweats more when he’s in bed with you.

And he laughed, thinking the same: “I’m saving that for later.”

Just as the dust was settling and Steve was wiping his hands clean, the door burst open, and Tony sauntered in, his suit gleaming in the dim light.

"Everybody freeze!" Iron man said in a mechanical voice behind his helmet, raising his hand and pointing at… nothing. Then he lowered it, noticing the room was still, filled only with men groaning in pain on the floor, while you and Steve rolled your eyes at him.

"What? I was already nearby when Vis delivered the message just three seconds ago. It's not like I'm late..." He raised an eyebrow at the sight of unconscious bodies and broken furniture, clearly unfazed by the chaos, as the team led by Maria and Sam entered the room with their weapons raised.

"Get 'em all; we need intel," Steve sighed as he walked over to you. "There’s a lot of interrogation to do." He pulled you close. "C'mon, let's go home."

It was almost sunrise when you arrived at the compound. You slept a bit in the car, and when the heroes started debating in the command room about the next steps and strategies, you stretched your body and headed to the dressing room yawning.

You needed a cold water shower to clear your mind before helping Tony and Bruce decipher all the information. Plus, you had to get out of this suit that smelled like grilled cement, ashes, and burnt fabric.

Ugh, you were a mess. You opened the locker and started unzipping the gear when you suddenly heard footsteps behind you.

Steve’s arms locked around you before you could turn. He restrained your wrists as a frenzied kiss landed on your lips, fingers laced with yours, pinning you against the wall. While holding you captive with one hand, he explored your wrists with the other.

He was burning.

The kiss deepened, and all the feelings he had been holding back since the car chase, was poured into the embrace. 

He was so turned on by everything that had happened—the adrenaline, the action, the danger, and the risks. He was impressed, and aroused, so fucking aroused.

He knew you were special, but you didn’t even blink during the chaos. 

There were explosives, drones, and the entire freaking Iron Army chasing you in a car, and you didn’t step back an inch.

This unyielding, unwavering, fierce-as-fuck version of you was driving him insane.

“Steve…?” You broke the kiss because you needed air, though you were enjoying it. “Are you okay?” Didn’t you just kind of… escape from death?

“Better than ever.” He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “I need you.” He said this while lowering your gear’s zipper, inhaling as your breasts sprang free from your clothes. He groaned, kneading them with desperate need.

Oh, okay… You moaned, tilting your head back when he sucked and lapped at them. Your gear was only half off as he pulled down your pants, kicked them aside, lifted your leg around his waist, and plunged into your already soaked folds.

Oh, wow. You gasped in awe as your inner walls stretched wide, completely filled by him, and your bodies slamming against the lockers.

And that’s when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking. 

Yup, what you’d been doing every night was making love. But this… 

This was Steve fucking you. And fucking you hard.

The pace was brutal, pounding with relentless intensity. He held your leg and gripped your ass to keep you in position. With one hand on your neck, forcing eye contact, he fucked you harder and harder.

His voice was hoarse and raw, groaning with lust. When he saw you bite your lip to stay quiet, he smiled and quickened his pace.

“I’ve wanted to do this since you kissed me in the nightclub…” He said, his body slamming into yours, locking you against the lockers.

“Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd…” With those images in mind, he murmured in your ear, his thrusts becoming stronger, admiring how waves of pleasure overtook you, making you pressed your leg tighter to his waist, your breath coming in silent gasps, pleading for more.

“Steve…” You could barely whisper. You couldn’t catch your breath as he pounded into you, shaking your body with the force of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his back, trying to hold back your voice, biting your lower lip so the moans wouldn’t escape. You didn’t even know if he had locked the door—someone could walk in at any moment.

But he was so hard, his pace so fast and relentless, completely out of control.

Steve never came before you did. He always made sure you were satisfied first. But this time, he cums when you finally gave in and moaned his name, his release hot and thick inside you.

Before you could even process it, he pulled out and turned you around.

Your breasts hit the lockers as his hands gripped your waist. He positioned you, and just when you were about to inhale, he was inside you again.

Fuck! This felt so good…! Steve never felt this urge, never wanted this so bad, his eyes darkening with further lust and desire, his hands pressing your waist and squeezing your bouncing ass cheek as he sees how he thrusts inside out of you. 

You are so tight, so wet, so fucking perfect for his cock, as you were tailored made for him. He was probably hard since you commanded him in the car, with that badass attitude and fierce determination, and now you were leaning there, with your elbows against the locker, your tits bouncing as he strokes, your ass cheeks marked as he squeezes and rubs them, and your folds still dripping remains of his last cum. Totally at his mercy. 

Fuck, this is hot.

He was going wild. Seeing you trying to mute what at home would be the sweetest or wildest moan, only spur him on, driving him to fuck you with greater velocity, snapping forward with greater intensity. 

“Let go, babe…” He said, snapping his hips forward. Each thrust hit that perfect spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through both of your bodies. “Let it go… Cum for me honey… Come on… I know you’re about to…”

He leaned forward, grabbed your face, and kissed you fiercely, his tongue claiming yours. His hand found your breasts, tweaking and tugging at your nipples until they stiffened, begging for attention.

“Fuck, baby… You feel so good…” His voice was a ragged, hot breath near your ear. His fingers found your clit, rubbing fast circles as he continued to fuck you. 

Your moans were loader, and your clit was so sensitive, it couldn’t take more contact, Steve’s thumbs rubbed faster and stronger, and as he continues to fuck you in your spot, when he feels your walls about to clamp, he just whispers in a determined tone in your ear. “Cum, now.”

It was like he had a switch that controlled your body. Your inner walls clenched at his command, and you gave in, cumming long and hard around his cock, your body trembling. All you were making was lust sounds, mumbling his name, trying to breathe and to recover to the ecstasy that went from your clit to your mind. 

“That’s it, my love…” He smiled with satisfaction, hissing through clenched teeth, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you into another fervent kiss.

When his lips sealed yours, the thrusts became faster and rougher, uncontrollable moans escaping as his hands roamed over your breasts. His movements were frenetic, chasing his own orgasm.

You moved with him, drunk on lust, oblivious to everything else. You felt his hands squeezing harder, his gasps becoming heavier, his cock growing bigger and stronger. Finally, he buried himself inside you, erupting and flooding your depths with a hot load of cum. His hips jerked involuntarily as the last drops spilled inside you, and he was finally satisfied.

“Oh…god… fuck, babe…” He had one hand still rubbing your tits, another pressing your clit and feeling his cum overload your folds, and his body resting in yours, covered with sweat, gear at his feet, when the extreme edge washed over him. “That…was…amazing.”

"Steve..." You panted as he pulled out and turned you around, instantly leaning into him. "I need to sit..." Your knees were weak, and your thighs hurt a little, but in a good way, a very good way.

He let out a soft laugh. "I’m so sorry..." He kissed your forehead as he lifted you onto the bench and covered you with his shirt. "Did I hurt you? Oh..." He winced at the marks on your waist and thighs, nearly bruised from his hands.

"Shit, babe... I’m sorry I got carried away." His voice softened, apologetic. "Does it hurt?" He pressed a kiss on your wrists, where he had also been holding on so tight. "Fuck... I’m sorry."

"No." You grinned and kissed him back. "It was amazing..." You leaned toward him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "I loved it. We should have more missions like this."

"As much as I’d love to..." He smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, holding you close. "I hate the danger around you. But hey..." He hesitated for a moment. "About what I said earlier..."

"'Cum, now'?" You imitated his voice, and he let out a loud laugh.

"No, earlier..."

"Mmm..." You recalled your eidetic memory. "'Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd'?"

Your eyes brightened. "You wanna go back to the nightclub so we can make out?"

Steve actually considered it for a second. "We’ll talk about that later... but no, I meant what I said in the car before the Iron Army attacked us like Ultron’s possessed children."

"Yeah..." You didn’t remember. Well, no, you weren’t listening. "I was distracted by the giant bomb headed toward us, babe... I’m sorry I didn’t hear."

He leaned back, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Okay, what I was saying..." Now he was looking right at you. He cupped your face, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. "I think it’s just been proven how deeply, madly, utterly in love I am with you. I don’t have eyes for anyone else..."

"Ohhh!" Now you connected the dots. "So we’re talking about my insecurities because you hung out with your gorgeous ex-girlfriend all day?"

"She’s not..." Steve sighed, then softened his voice. "Well, there. There’s nothing for you to be insecure about. I love you. Only you. And I think I’ve proven my desire to be with you forever with the ring..."

"What?" Now you were shocked. "Wait, what?" You sat up straight. "Was the ring really... really... a ring?"

"Of course it is. What else would it be?"

"Um... you said it was a tracking device."

"It is." Steve sighed. "But eventually, when all this is over, it will be just a ring that means: you’re the love of my life, and I want to be with you forever." He smiles at your incredulous face, and holds you in his embrace, placing a kiss on your forehead: "In this life, and all the lifetimes to come. I want only you."

You stared at him, speechless, feeling the warmth of his arms around you and the weight of his words settling in. His gaze was so full of love, it made your heart race. For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, but then you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his.

"Steve..." You whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t have to say anything." He replied softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "Just... stay with me. That’s all I need."

You smiled, your heart overflowing. "Yes." You kissed him back. "Now. Always. Forever."

"Okay, now that we’re good..." He lifted you up in his arms. "C’mon princess, let’s take a bath, we are a mess here."

Oh. You raised your eyebrows. You don’t know who he’s kidding; you both know how this was going to end.

The End but TBD :)

Continue to:

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Divider Credits: to the wonderful @cafekitsune

And that's a wrap for chapter 8! Wohoo, I'm so glad I've made it to write a complete smut!! xD I really suck at writing it in english :D So with so many wonderful writers out there, thank you for reading up to here, hope you enjoyed it :D And thanks everyone for participating in the poll last post xD Can't believe fluff won, come on some angst and then a fluff and happy ending won't hurt, right? xD

I'll see you next friday for chapter 9! Wow 9 chapters!! <3

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

*can you let me know if I've missed anyone in the taglist? thanks <3

[lialacleaf]

Simon Riley X Reader: Domestic Headcanons: Baking

Warnings: Simon misses his Mum :c, fluffy

Pt.2

Simon has very few fond memories of his family but he remembers how his Mum used to cook during the holidays, and would always involve him in the food prep to distract him from his Dad's foul mood.

After losing his family, cooking just isn't the same without his Mum, and even if he isn't on a mission he tries to avoid being in the kitchen because it just aches for him.

But then you come along, working on base under Laswell and Simon constantly hears you fiddling around in the kitchen. He avoids investigating like the plague for the first few weeks but eventually, his curiosity gets the better of him.

He finds you covered in flour in mid-October, making a pumpkin pie crust from scratch, and has to just stand there for a moment and watch in befuddlement as you swear at the bowl you just tipped over.

There's something bubbling on the stove, and you're too distracted to notice that your simmer pot is going to boil over. You've got a mix of orange and lemon slices with diced apple and cinnamon sticks. It's just like how his Mum used to make them.

The click of the stove dial has you jumping, having not noticed the shadowy figure of Ghost slipping into the kitchen.

"Heat's too high," he says, and you blink at him in confusion before understanding settles on your pretty face.

"Shoot! I...forgot to turn that down when I..." you gestured awkwardly to the bowl of flour and he tilts his masked chin downwards at you.

You give him an awkward smile before returning to the task of making your dough.

He doesn't leave immediately, just watches you struggle a bit with kneading the dough before he huffs and yanks his gloves off, pushing you to the side as he surprises you by properly kneading the dough, and laying it in the pie pan perfectly.

You watch him from the corner of your eye as you finish making the filling, and add it to the pie crust.

You can hardly believe that you're baking a pie with Lieutenant Ghost. You shrug it off however and pull two mugs from the cupboard, filling them both with the contents of your pot, however, when you turn around to offer him one, he's already gone.

The second time you're in the kitchen making apple turnovers for your co-worker's birthday, the window is open for you to enjoy an early November rainy day, and you're in your coziest pair of socks.

You almost don't recognize him, jumping at the sight of the tall blonde man who has materialized out of thin air to peel your apples. His eyes peek at you over the top of a black surgical mask, and you feel your heart stop, then start up again with a disjointed stutter as you take in the familiar chocolatey color.

He doesn't say anything, just peels the apples until the bag is empty. You reach for the last one and realize there's no Leuitenant to be seen.

The third time he joins you you're trying to perfect your gravy recipe. Most of the base's inhabitants have gone home for the holidays, but the few that have remained are planning a Thanksgiving potluck.

"You're still here." He actually makes you jump.

"Couldn't afford plane tickets for Christmas and Thanksgiving, and I'm not missing my Dad's pumpkin log and hot cocoa," you explain

He hums softly, leaning against the counter as he examines your cheese biscuits.

Your eyes widen slightly when you see him pull the surgical mask down just enough to take a large bite of the biscuit he nabbed off the tray.

You're greeted with the sight of a sharp jaw and full lips, and you quickly pull your eyes away, focusing on the gravy in your pot.

Something doesn't taste quite right, and you frown softly. Ghost leans over to take a deep whiff, bumping your shoulder in the process.

"You added salt?"

You offer him a deadpan expression.

"Scoot," he orders, pushing you aside and fishing a spoon out of the drawer. He nods to himself after a taste and proceeds to add a hefty helping of rosemary.

You try not to think about the fact that you've never seen his face before now as you try his concoction. It's not bad. "Where'd you learn how to cook, Ghost?"

He stares deeply at you for a few seconds, before he sets the spoon in the sink. "My Mum."

He leaves you after that, and you doubt you're going to see him at the potluck.

You don't see him in the kitchen again until December, and you're baking snickerdoodles to leave the boys with when you return to your family.

He's avoided the kitchen for a few weeks, and you're strangely relieved to see him lurking there.

"Wanted to give you this before you left."

He holds out a carefully wrapped package, and you accept it with a dumbfounded expression. He's out the door again before you've even thanked him.

A few days later you're sitting in the armchair of your parents' house, a pile of unwrapped presents at your feet as you carefully tear away the paper concealing the Leuitenant's gift. You're greeted with the sight of an old leather-bound book, one filled with handwritten recipes you realize upon closer inspection and an elegant Mrs. Riley engraved on the front page.

You have a feeling Ghost will be joining you in the kitchen more often. Maybe even Simon.

AN: Requests are always open!

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

blind date l Frankie “Catfish” Morales

Summary:  you were supposed to spend a quiet evening, but someone sat down at your table

Warnings:  just fluff, some kissing, a little bit of alcohol, misunderstanding

A/N: aaaaaahhhhh, I know I shouldn't do this! this platform is full of beautiful stories about Frankie, but I had one thought in my head and I had to do something with it since I had some free time. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

You were never a big fan of your birthday. When you read about the "birthday blues" somewhere a while ago, you were already sure that it was all about you. Going out with friends, loud parties and drinking until dawn - that wasn't your thing. This time, you decided to do it all differently.

You put on a nice dress, the one that made you feel really good and pretty. You put on light makeup and used your favorite perfume. All of that just to go alone to one of the local bars, order a drink and spend this time in your own company. And everything was going well until a certain moment.

You were just browsing the late-night repertoire at the nearby cinema on your phone when someone unexpectedly sat down at your table. You looked up, a little surprised.

"I'm sorry I'm late. I have no excuse for that. Have you been waiting long?"

"I..." you couldn't get any more out of yourself, because the man glanced at your almost empty drink.

"I'll order you a new one. Wait a minute."

He stood up and walked over to the bar, and you tried to understand what had just happened. You looked back at this strange man. 

He was tall, with broad shoulders and a rather narrow waist. Curly hair peeked out from under his baseball cap. You were sure you definitely didn't know him, because you would have remembered those wonderful brown eyes.

After a moment, he returned to the table carrying a new drink for you and a beer for himself. He sat down and smiled uncertainly at you.

"So..." he began, then extended his hand to you, "I'm Frankie."

You shook his hand, giving him your name. You saw him frown for a moment, as if a thought had appeared in his head, but it quickly disappeared.

He rested his arms on the table, his shirt stretching pleasantly on his body.

"I never thought I'd be on a blind date." he mumbled, smiling "But that seems pretty nice. Especially when the company is so lovely."

"Don't worry, I didn't plan on taking part in something like that either." You replied, pleasantly flattered by his compliment. "But maybe we should just see where it takes us."

"Yeah, sure. So... How do you know Benny?"

What Benny? You didn't know any man by that name. But Frankie was faster than you again.

"You probably met after one of his fights." he stated, adjusting his cap. "Silly question, sorry. I haven't done this in a while."

"What do you mean?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink, the sweet cherry flavor filling your mouth.

"I didn't go on dates." Frankie rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "You know. I've been working a lot lately."

"Where do you work?"

"I'm a pilot."

"Oh!"

"A helicopter pilot, I do assignments for different companies." he explained "I was in the military before. What about you?"

"I don't fly and I didn't fight." You replied and he laughed. His smile was really cute.

You told him what you did, and he - it was true - he really listened to you. He asked some simple and polite questions about your job, but he didn't try to let it dominate your conversation.

You felt comfortable and really good around Frankie, so when you finished your drinks and he suggested that you should go out and eat something, you gladly agreed.

You walked side by side through the quiet town, it was a warm and peaceful evening. The conversation revolved around topics that were safe for you, and you were more and more charmed by this man.

You didn't object when he put his hand on your back when you stopped at some takeaway. You even smiled a little embarrassed when the nice salesman asked Frankie:

"And what for your lady?"

"And what does my lady want?" he asked, winking at you.

You placed your order and soon you sat down outside to eat. You could feel Frankie's gaze on you almost the entire evening.

"Sorry, but this is the first time I've seen a girl that looks so hot eating takeout in a place like this." he laughed when you asked what was so funny to him.

"You're unfair!" you replied, holding back a laugh and aiming a fry at him. "I don't dress like this every day."

"So this is for me? Thank you."

You nervously bit the inside of your cheek. You felt a pang of guilt. Frankie was charming, funny and handsome, but he was supposed to meet someone else that night. Maybe you just deprived him of the opportunity to meet a really great woman?

Suddenly, his large, warm hand squeezed your knee and it brought you back to reality.

"C'mon, sweetie. I'd love to spend the whole night with you, but I have to drop you home." he said, smiling. "I have an early flight tomorrow."

"I can call a cab. You don't have to..."

"Please." His eyes were like those of a cute puppy. "Give me a few more minutes with you."

So you agreed. Frankie drove you home, his hand lazily stroking your knee. You liked that.

You wondered for a moment whether to tell him that you lived even further away, because the ride was really nice, but soon the car stopped in front of the building you lived in.

"We're here," he said. "Listen... It was a really nice evening. I understand if you didn't want to meet up with me again, but..."

"I had a great time too." you replied quickly, and seeing how his face lit up you added. "Maybe I'll give you my number? In case you want to meet up again, or... talk?"

"Yeah, sure!"

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and you quickly typed in your number. There was nothing left.

"I think I'll go now. I wouldn't want you to oversleep at work because of me."

"I wouldn't mind, but I guess you're right."

You had already opened the door and was about to get out when a thought crossed your mind. If you had been going with the flow all evening, why would you stop now? 

You saw a small surprise in Frankie's eyes, but after a moment he smiled when you moved closer to him, placing your hand on his cheek. You felt his stubble tickle your skin. 

And then you kissed him. Just like that. Frankie kissed you back, sliding one hand into your hair and the other squeezing your waist. He pulled you even closer, sliding his tongue between your lips.

He was a gentle kisser, or at least that was the first impression he gave. His lips were soft and lightly returned the next kisses. You smiled as you moved away from him.

"Good night, Frankie." You whispered and quickly got out of the car.

Frankie [04:56] Morning. I hope I don't wake you up, but I thought you'd like to see this.

You looked at the message and smiled at the picture of the sunrise he sent you.

Y/N [06:38] Beautiful. Thank you for thinking of me.

Frankie [06:41] I couldn't stop doing this. I'd love to see you again soon.

Y/N [06:44] Good, because I'd like that too ;)

Benny [07:21] Catfish, you idiot!

He showed up at your door in the evening when you were already considering taking a bath and going to bed. When you opened the door, you knew immediately that something was wrong.

"Hi. I wasn't expecting you." you greeted, but he just nodded nervously.

"Can we... Can we talk?" he asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Yeah, sure. Come in."

He walked inside and looked around your place. It was cozy and nice, with a big couch perfect for relaxing.

"Listen..." he started as you approached him "I don't know how to say this."

"Just say it, Frankie." you saw he was struggling with something.

He nodded shifting from foot to foot.

"I talked to Benny today."

"Oh." you already knew what he was getting at.

"It's funny, you know. It turns out that yesterday... Fuck! I'm sorry. When I walked into that bar and I saw you, you were so pretty and so lost in your thoughts that I thought maybe I was finally lucky. I didn't think you were waiting for someone else..."

"Frankie, I wasn't waiting for anyone." you replied nervously biting your lip "I had my birthday yesterday and I wanted to spend the evening somehow...differently. You showed up and I jumped on that train."

His dark eyes stared at you completely surprised. You would have given a lot to know what was going on in his head. So you decided to continue the conversation, giving him time to gather his thoughts.

"You surprised me, but you were so sweet and charming." You felt warmth creeping up your neck. "I knew right away that you were wrong, but... I don't know. I'm sorry! I should have said something. That girl was definitely waiting for you, and I thought I could spend a really nice evening with a nice guy. I'm so selfish! Say something, Frankie. Say you don't want to know me anymore and let's end this before I degrade myself even more."

His lips were slightly parted. Your legs were like cotton and you already regretted everything you had done, and even having this little pleasure for yourself.

"Wow." were the first words that fell from his lips "Jesus! I thought... When Benny told me that girl called me an asshole because I didn't show up, I didn't know what was going on. We spent the whole evening together, we kissed and then we texted..."

"I'm sorry..." you groaned, wrapping your arms around yourself "I should have said something..."

"That's not it, babe" he sighed "It's just... I wouldn't have approached you if I knew you weren't the one waiting for me. Because I immediately thought you were out of my league. And when we started talking I believed I was damn lucky. Such a beautiful, funny and sweet girl wanted to spend the evening with someone like me."

You felt your throat tighten painfully and tears welled up in your eyes.

"I've been thinking about it all day." Frankie walked up to you, his hands caressing your arms tenderly "Maybe I was lucky? You could have backed out at any moment, but..."

"I stayed." You finished for him "I really wanted to stay."

"That's good." He nodded, smiling "Because I wanted to take you out to dinner. Did you really have a birthday yesterday?"

"Yeah..."

His hands rested gently on your hips, squeezing them lightly every now and then. You could see that he was thinking deeply about something.

"I think we could celebrate a little today." He finally said "I know a really good place, I think you'll like it."

"You don't have to, Frankie."

"But I want to do it!" He laughed "I'm a lucky bastard, I'm going out to dinner with an amazing girl. Don't take that away from me now."

"Okay, I won't!" Now you laughed too. "Just give me a few minutes, I need to change."

You slid out of his arms, but didn't get far because his fingers tightened around yours. Before you could say anything Frankie walked up to you, his warm hand brushing your cheek and gently grabbing your chin.

"What are you doing?" you asked quietly, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"I'm checking if I'm still lucky." he replied, his lips gently brushing yours, "And I think I am."

You shook your head in disbelief, but smiled. Everything would have to wait, both of you had to test his luck once more.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 11

As soon as Alex and her family are safely in a car on the way to a hotel, Kara and Lena board Lena's jet back to the states. During the flight, Lena curls in on herself, picking nervously at her cuticles with a worried, guilty expression.

"Hey," Kara says, pulling Lena's gaze towards her. Her features remain heavy. "I'm not mad."

At that, Lena's face softens, but only enough to grimace with a soft huff. "You're not the one I'm worried about."

Kara must look confused, because Lena soon continues.

"As a rule, my mother knows who I spend my time with, and when." The guilt returns. "Except for you."

"So she didn't know I was in Capri with you..."

Lena confirms it with a shake of her head. "Nor why I went back to National City."

Well... this wouldn't be easy then. Dealing with a rabid press is one thing-- being at odds with one of the key players in keeping her family safe is another.

"I'm sorry," Lena murmurs. "I just... wanted to keep you mine. Just for a little while."

Kara shoots her a look. "I'm still not mad."

"You can be. If you want."

"I don't." She moves seats, switching to the bench Lena's on. She makes no attempt to still Lena's nervous picking, but simply spreads her legs enough for the outsides of their thighs to touch. Kara intends the physical contact to serve as reassurance, but she doesn't know if it works.

"I'm a big girl, Lena. I know I can back out whenever I want to. But I don't. Not yet."

A little bit of warmth cuts through Lena's anxious fog. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Kara's heart beats a little faster, when a small smile answers her. Impulsively, she leans over to kiss Lena's cheek. She feels... giddy? Far more exhilirated she has any right to feel at her age. "Bring it."

----

Lillian Luthor is a slender, austere woman. Kara clocks her the moment the plane lands on the tarmac, tall and styled in her designer clothes and looks that only money and astronomically good genes could provide.

Only Kara witnesses the short beat Lena takes before stepping out of the plane, bracing herself for whatever follows. Kara keeps pace with her once they descend the ladder in single file. She may not be driving this bus, but she is no shrinking flower. In this, she is Lena's equal.

Not that the look Lillian gives her would have anyone believe.

"In the car," the woman orders. "Now."

Lena obeys without a word. Kara is a little slower to fall in line, but ultimately follows Lena's lead. Lillian climbs in behind them, leaving Jess and a woman Kara doesn't recognize to scramble on board last.

"The family is checked into the Lariat. So far no indication that they've been identified, but its still early."

"What about Kara?"

"What about you??" Lillian demands, tone scathing in its heat. "What were you thinking?"

Kara sees Lena wilt, and anger bubbles up in her throat. "Don't talk to her like that--"

"You have zero business here," Lillian fires back with steel in her voice.

"Mom!" Lena exclaims in Kara's defense. "It's not that big a deal--"

Ice blue eyes turn on Lena, freezing her to the spot. "It's a big enough deal that you saw fit to sneak behind my back, with a woman twice your age no less--"

"Mom!"

"Timeline, now."

Lena's shoulders sag, but says nothing. Looking to divert some of Lillian's ire, Kara moves to speak up. "We--"

"She already knows," Lena rolls her eyes.

"I do," her mother confirms. "But I'll hear it from you nonetheless."

Lena huffs. "Night two of the National City stop. Her niece left her phone backstage, and we exhanged numbers."

"Then?"

"Texting."

The exhange sounds like a repeat of one they've had many times before. Neither Jess nor the other woman-- who Kara assumes is Lillian's own assistant-- look at all nervous at the rapidfire crossing of words.

"Texting?" Lillian demands. "Or sexting?"

Kara bristles. "I don't see how that's any of your--"

"*Texting*, Mom, god!" Lena seethes. Her cheeks are bright red, from anger or embarassment or both. "Will you just--"

"Just *what* Lena?"

Lillian's voice is so sharp Kara can see the moment it cuts Lena down. Her jaw tightens, and when Kara sublty shifts to take her hand, Lena shifts away.

Satisfied that her daughter is suitably in line, Lillian turns to her assistant. "Mercy, have PR prepare a statement. The photos were misconstrued, they simply capture a couple of friends taking in the sights."

"Mom, no," Lena croaks. "I don't want-- who cares if people know that I'm gay--?"

"You are not gay!"

Lena flinches, features blanching as though Lillian had landed a physical blow. Only then does Lillian seem to realize that she's talking to an actual person. Her tone doesn't soften, exactly, but it doesn't sharpen any further.

"Your *brand* isn't," she amends, likely the closest thing to thing to an apology Lena would get.

"I thought Lena is the brand," Kara interjects.

Lillian's frigid gaze snaps to her. "She is."

"Her fans are more open-minded than you think--"

"Her fans don't buy tickets," Lillian informs her coolly. "Their parents do. And *they* are far less forgiving."

Kara looks towards Lena, who meets her gaze with a helpless one of her own. It's not untrue-- Esme hadn't bought her tickets, after all.

"Then what do we do?" Kara allows finally.

"Cut ties. Immediately." Lillian looks down her nose at Kara, her regard as condescending as though she were speaking to a teenager, not a women merely ten years her junior.

"No."

To Kara's surprise, Lena's response is faster than her own, and carries only the barest of trembles.

"Don't be foolish..."

"I'm not--"

"Do you love her?"

Lena freezes. Her gaze flicks to Kara. "It's only been a few weeks..."

"Precisely. Cut ties now, before--"

"But I want to," Lena finishes. This time, her gaze lingers on Kara's, a small smile warming her eyes. "I want to love her."

Lillian scoffs low in her throat. "You're too old to be play the love sick teenager. Or have you forgotten what happened last time?"

Kara watches Lena hold her mother's gaze, something heavy passing between them, inscrutable to anyone else. But Lena holds her ground, and surprisingly, Lillian is the one to back down.

"Then what would you suggest?"

"Like you said-- we give them something else to talk about." Lena swallows, but forges ahead. "I have some new material, I can perform it live in Paris."

Lillian purses her lips, but doesn't smack down the idea. She considers it, her gaze calculating. "And you two?"

"We do what we want," Lena delivers firmly. "No statement, no confirmation or denial. Let people see interpret it however they want. However they need."

Kara thinks of the young fans, isolated in their orientations or identities, seeing themselves reflected in their favorite artist. The gift that would be, the vote of confidence needed to dream of a future where what Lena and Kara share might be theirs.

Lillian shoots Kara a hard glare. "And you? It's your family in the crossfire if this idea goes to shit."

"Then it goes to shit, and we deal with it."

It might be selfish of her, but in all of their conversations, neither Alex or Kelly have suggested backing off. They spoke only of adapting, of overcoming, and Kara knows she has their unspoken support. And even now, being talked down to and chided, she feels happier sitting next to Lena in this moment than she has in years.

Lillian barely contains her snort of derision.

"Very well," she concedes, with a sharp note of criticism. Then she turns from them entirely to speak with Mercy in low tones.

Kara takes advantage of the moment to lean closer to Lena, murmuring in her ear.

"I want to go to Paris with you."

Lena blinks at her. "You don't have to--"

"Would you feel better if I were there?" Kara asks bluntly. Lena deflates a little, but this time in relief rather than shame.

"Yeah."

"Then let me come." Kara gives Lena's hand a squeeze, and is rewarded with a tired smile. "You're not alone in this."

"Okay," Lena says, her smile deepening into a challenge. "Let's bring it."

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!General x Reader x Yan!Recruit

'The Little Soldier and His General'

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, power dynamics, mentions of sa, masturbation, oral, mentions of war and military, implied violence, threats, coercion, female and male genitalia, female reader, pet names.

(AN: Part two to 'His Little Bride', here by popular demand!)

Part 1 here!

You trod up the stairs, your shoes clacking against the hardwood as you come to the door of Fritz's office, knocking gently on it. "Come in..." Fritz's deep voice calls, and as you enter he peers up from his desk. A smile spreads across his face, as he stands to see you. "Hello, my love..." He says, wrapping his hands around your waist gently. His stubble brushes against your forehead, and you giggle at the feeling. "Fritz, you're tickling me." You playfully smack his chest, causing him to back off. He steps aside, and returns to his desk. Someone coughs awkwardly, causing your head to snap in the direction of the sound. A young man, about your age, maybe younger, is standing by the corner of Fritz's desk, scuffing his shoe against the carpet and trying not to interrupt.

"Ah, my love, this is Johannes, he's the new recruit I mentioned a few nights ago at the dinner. Johannes, this is my lovely betrothed." You smile, and nod in the boys direction. Despite the fact he's probably only 20, a year or two younger than you, he's a giant. He's lanky, standing almost as tall as Fritz. Red curls adorn his head, matching the reddish-freckles that cover his face. "It's wonderful to meet you, ma'am." He stutters, smiling awkwardly. "Johannes, show some respect for the lady, especially an officer's wife. Make eye contact with her, shake her hand." Fritz, urges, trying to suppress a grin and seem stern. You scoff, and roll your eyes. "Johannes, ignore him. He's just trying to stress you out." You assure the boy, and he lets out a sigh of relief. You turn back to your betrothed.

"I don't want to interrupt, I'll leave you gentleman to your work." You offer. Fritz shakes his head, motioning with his hand towards a nearby chair while he sits down at his desk. "No, we were just almost finishing up, you can stay right here." You nod, and sit down. You take a book off of the shelf and busy yourself reading. While you do, Fritz and Johannes lean over his desk, examining some papers as they finish up. Sighing, Fritz places down the papers, and looks up at the redhead.

"Well, I believe that's all of our affairs in order, then?" He asks. "Yes sir! I've sent telegram to the infantry marching down south, and I ensured the diplomats would be ready to speak with you in the morning." Johannes explains, a small boyish smile on his face. Fritz claps a hand down on the boy's shoulder. "Only a few weeks in Johannes, and I think you may be one of the best young men I've trained. I've never seen someone so eager." Fritz compliments. The boy freezes, and looks down as his grin grows wider. "Just... just wanna make you proud, sir." Fritz feels his heart swell at the comment. In the few weeks since Johannes joined up with Fritz, he's been training the boy in every task he can think of, from infantry duties, to cleaning, to telegrams and more. After learning about the boy coming to fight for is family, and learning he has no father, Fritz felt a duty to care for him. He sees a lot of himself in him, and he feels himself get sick anytime he imagines Johannes having to endure what he went through when he first joined, before anyone treated him like he was worth something. Fritz keeps Johannes up at the main house as much as he can, as he's already had to punish several soldiers for picking on the new kid.

As Fritz snaps out of it, he notices Johannes gaze has drifted over to you. You are sitting in the chair, curled up with your knees tucked by your chest, skirt ruffled warmly around you as you read whatever book you picked up from the shelf. Johannes can feel his heart thrumming in his chest, the sounds of the world around him blocked out by it echoing in his hears. Fritz looks once, then twice back-and-forth between you and Johannes. If any other man had dared to gaze at his soon-to-be bride for this long, he would have them sent out on a mission they would surely not return from. However, as he looks in Johannes's eyes, analyzing his gaze, he sees no hint of malice or ill-intent. Johannes looks at you with such innocence, such curiosity that Fritz allows it. Fritz knows that Johannes is looking at you the way he looks at you. "Johannes?" Fritz asks, and the boy practically chokes, coughing as he snaps out of it. His wild and embarrassed expression makes Fritz chuckle warmly. "U-uh, yes sir?" Johannes asks, hand fidgeting with the edge of the desk as he taps his fingers against the varnished mahogany.

"Any particular reason you are staring at my bride?" Johannes shakes his head wildly, pushing his hands out in surrender and almost shrinking in on himself. "No, no sir! I was just wondering what she was reading, not, not looking at her in any way! I respect that she's your bride, and I respect her as a woman- I would never look at a girl like that. My mother always told me-" Fritz cuts him off, leaning forward on the desk and placing a firm, calloused hand on the boy's shoulder, feeling that he now quakes with anxiety. "Private Johannes, please, please calm down. I take no offence, my boy." Fritz gestures to you. "I will admit, I can be the protective type. But I need you to know, the only men who have been punished for trying to corrupt or gaze upon her like that are those who do it with nothing but animal urges in mind. You've seen how the soldiers in town act, around the bars and whorehouses, yes?" Johannes nods. Just the other day, a group of soldiers had tried to convince him to lose his virginity at a local brothel, but he denied, feeling sick at the thought. One of the women standing outside the brothel had touched him through his uniform. He knew one day a woman would do that, but to lose himself this way felt wrong. Especially because he knew many of the women in these places turned to this career only because of the war.

He couldn't stand the way soldiers spoke about girls late at night after an evening of drinking. Whenever they would whistle, or catcall some poor village girl, he was reminded of his sisters, and what his mother taught him about how to treat a woman. That was someones daughter, or sister, and the idea of making any woman feel the way he did when that woman groped him makes him wish that he was strong enough to deal with his fellow soldiers himself.

"Yes, sir." Johannes says. Fritz smiles when he notices the way Johannes frowns, grimacing a little as he recalls. He knows that Johannes feels the same about the urges and actions of those sick men. "Many of those men have tried, would try to harm her in that way." Johannes looks up, shaking his head as his eyes go wide. "No..." Johannes exclaims. Fritz nods gravely, enjoying stoking the boy up a little. "That is one of the reasons I keep her up here, why she is going to be my little bride. She must be kept safe, safe from those who would do her wrong. Even her father wanted to refuse to engage her to me. That man would have rather married his daughter off to some scum from the town than give her to a man who cared." Fritz growls, and the hairs on the back of Johannes neck stand up. Despite this, he stares intently at his superior, finding himself enthralled at the idea of keeping and caring for something, someone so lovely. Someone to protect. "Then how did you get her to wed you?" He asks, curiosity eating him from the inside out until he can't help but spit out the words. "I had her father... dispatched, I suppose. Trying to allow a young lady of this great country to be harmed surely counts as an act of treason." Fritz explains. He leaves out the fact he had your father executed so that any inheritance of yours could be put towards a wedding, but he thinks it a minor detail He glances over to make sure you aren't listening, then leans in close, so he may whisper into the boys ear.

"Now, Johannes. I have a question for you, and I want you to think carefully before you answer." Johannes bites his lips nervously, but waits for his admired superior to continue. "What do you think I should have done in that situation?" He asks. Johannes tilts his head, brows furrowed. "How do you mean, sir?" He asks. "I mean, what would you have done, if a lovely thing like her came along, who you adored and needed to protect, but someone was trying to keep you from her. What would have happened?" He asks. Johannes sighs, his fists balling up tightly. "The truth, sir?" Fritz nods. "I... well, I'm not very strong, o-or brave. I don't have your status, but... I think, I think I would do whatever it takes to keep her. Even if I meant doing something I don't think I'm quite ready for." Fritz pulls the boy in for a hug, and Johannes fear melts away for a brief moment. He hasn't felt affection since he left home, and the only thing keeping him from melting into his general is his shame about being affectionate with another man. Fritz pulls away, and looks the boy in the eyes. "My boy, by the time you are done training with me, there won't be a single thing you aren't strong enough or powerful enough to do, you understand me?" The thought of being good enough fills Johannes with glee. "I understand, sir."

"Good. Now, Johannes, you are a young man. I know by the way you talk, and the way you are that you are a good one. I don't want you learning to copy the other recruits in any task, but especially in how to care for a girl." Fritz explains. "Did your father have time to teach you about these things before his death?" Johannes shakes his head. "I know the basics, sir. My mother told me, and she told me to respect a girl, but... I know very little beyond that, I admit." He says sadly. "Well, I see how you looked at my bride. Look again, you have my permission." The boy looks up, unsure if this is some sort of test, but eventually he glances in your direction. He sighs at the serene girl sat before him.

"My bride was not unlike you a while ago. Innocent, naive. Do you want to protect her as I do, Johannes?" Fritz asks. "Of course, all women should be protected, and-" Fritz shakes his head, cutting the rambling boy off. "No, Johannes. I mean, do you want to protect her, specifically? Do you fancy my bride?" Johannes trembles, his cheeks reddened with a shame so deep feels like he might throw up. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry... I feel, I feel awful." He confesses. "I never wanted to feel like this, I admire you, and I respect you sir, I really do! But when I first arrived at your estate, I would see her around, reading or baking. I'd see her with you and, and god she seemed perfect. So caring, and I was drawn to her kindness in such a hellish place like the war." Fritz nods. "Johannes, you must understand. Other men and boys look at her with lust, desire. You look upon her with a craving, for how sweet she is. You don't want to defile her, you ant to care for her. You are not them. You, Johannes, are like me." Johannes can barely stand the feeling of euphoria that washes over him, the roller coaster of emotions is too much for him. Being told that the man he admires most in this world sees himself in him is enough to send the boy over the edge. "You don't know how much what you've said means to me, sir..." He whispers, looking up at Fritz. "Now, I have a proposal for you, my dear boy."

Fritz pauses, allowing Johannes to collect himself and steady his breathing. "I have taught you many things at camp, including manners. Given your love and respect for my bride, and the importance of me teaching you about all aspects of life, I think perhaps you should allow me to educate you on how to best care for a woman." Johannes chokes oncemore. "As in, giving them gifts, a-and courting them?" He asks, unsure if what he thinks Fritz is implying is true. "Partially. I am simply offering you to care for her. I fear I am not able to spend as much time with her as I want, and I know it's important for you to learn about the things women like, should you find a girl you want to marry in the future." Johannes nods. "Keep her company for a month or so, and when me and her wed, you may go and find a girl of your own, should you desire. But-" Fritz smiles. "Should you find yourself attached, which I would not blame you for, you may continue to live with me and her in our estate." Johannes grins. "Sir, I... thank you." Fritz only nods. "I care a great deal for you, boy, and I'm sure my bride will too. Tonight though, I think if you should want to, an education of another kind is necessary, should you keep my bride company or find another girl." "Do you mean?" Fritz nods. "I will speak to her after dinner, I'm sure she will agree. Meet us in the master suite after dinner, and I will provide you with a hands-on approach to the marital bed."

Late in the evening, Johannes finds himself pacing outside of his General's bedroom, unable to calm himself. Excitement eats away at him, though a small part of himself fears this is all a trick, a test, and that this is simply a way to shame him. He shakes off these thoughts, knowing his beloved superior wouldn't do that. Not to him. He hears the door creak, and he looks up eagerly. "Sir." He greets. Fritz nods his head. "At ease, my boy. This isn't a drill. Come in, take off your shoes." Johannes follows Fritz into the dimly lit room, and gasps as he sees what awaits him. Your lovely frame from earlier, once sat by the window, is now nude, layed on the bed like a present for him. He kicks of his shoes, and approaches. His fear of this being a trap has subsided, now replaced with anxiety that you won't like him, or the way he looks. He swallows deeply.

"Hello Johannes." You greet shyly, not able to fully make eye-contact. When Fritz proposed this to you, you were shocked, as he had always been very private and strict about intimate affairs. Many times when was balls-deep in you, he had growled things about never sharing and owning you. You couldn't deny you were curious what about this boy had gotten him so attached, and you agreed. Now the young private is stood before you, a bulge already prominent in his trousers.

Fritz senses you are a little nervous, and sits behind you, allowing your bare back to lean against his chest as he looks up to Johannes. "Johannes, firstly you must situate yourself. Come, sit down before her." Johannes eagerly crawls onto the bed, looking at his general for further instructions. "You've seen people kiss before, right?" He shrugs. "Yes, sir. My mother and father before he died, and a few soldiers with women, but I've never done it myself." He admits. Fritz nods. "Well, don't over-complicate it, just lean in, ask her if she would like a kiss?" Johannes kneels before you, his locks of red hair almost covering his downcast eyes. "Ma'am, may I kiss you?" He whispers. You blush at his continued formality, but nod. His breathe is shaky as he leans forward, connecting his lips with your soft ones. Much like Fritz, this boy is rough and calloused, with chapped lips. He isn't as hardened as Fritz, but he has the makings of what Fritz is. He moans a little, his hand coming to touch your chest instinctively. You squeak, and he removes his hand.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He exclaims, looking at you and Fritz, panicked. "No, it's fine, just, caught me off guard." You explain. "I.. I really liked it. You are a beautiful woman, thank you for letting me... y'know, engage in this with you." He whispers. You smile and stroke his cheek. "Of course." Fritz smiles. "Such good manners, private. Exemplary. Now darling, why don't you show him what makes a woman so different from a boy? Give him a look." Fritz urges. Fritz slips his hand onto your upper thighs, spreading them so Johannes can get a look at the bush between your legs. While you had initially been rather insecure about it, Fritz has always assured you he likes you natural. Johannes gulps, watching as you spread your folds with two fingers, allowing him easy access to your holes and clit. You are already wet, the slickness giving your pussy a sheen.

"See that little pearl at the top of her sex?" Fritz asks. Johannes nods. "That's her clit. Girls tend to feel the best when a boy know how to properly service it. Try gently rubbing it with a finger or two." Fritz instructs. Johannes extends to slender fingers to the pearl of your sex, beginning to rub small circles around the sensitive bud. It feels nice, but he's clearly inexperienced, as he doesn't touch you down there like Fritz does. Fritz notices you are quieter than usual, and he uses his hand to guide Johannes fingers. Small circles become the occasional flick, accompanied by a rub to the right side of your pearl. As Fritz moves his hand away, Johannes strokes that special spot, making you gasp. "J-Johannes..." You moan, causing the boy to pause. "No, no, my boy, when a girl feels good like that for you, don't stop. Keep touching her like that." Fritz urges. Johannes shakes it off, nodding. "Yes, sir. Sorry." He continues his ministrations. You whine, feeling his slender hands roll your clit, building you up. "G-god... A little faster, please." You beg. Johannes looks to Fritz, who nods. The boy speeds up, and soon you feel yourself about to cum on the privates fingers. "Ah... oh god, Fritz, gonna cum', he's gonna make me cum..." You groan. The moaning of his name with your erotic expression sends Johannes over the edge, and he gasps as he feels a convulsing. He looks down, and a wet patch is appearing on his pants. As you cum, he looks ashamed. "Sir..." He whimpers, and Fritz looks at the boys predicament.

"It's fine, my boy. Sometimes it comes early when your new to this, besides..." He places a hand on your chest, helping work you through your orgasm. "It's hard not to, looking at such a lovely girl..." As you come down from your high, you pant, shuffling forwards. "Thank him for being good with you, my girl." Fritz says. He was always one for manners. "Thank you Johannes." You say. "For what?" Fritz pushes. "For making me cum, for making me feel so good." Johannes can feel himself hardening again. "Now, Johannes, I'm sure she's eager to return the favor, so I want you to undress." Johannes hands shakes as he tries feebly to undo the buttons of his trousers. Eventually, he gets them off, springing free his cock. It's not the longest you've had, but then he isn't fully hard yet. "Darling, why don't you show Johannes just how thankful you are." You press a kiss gently to the red tip of his cock, watching as it twitches. He is clearly sensitive. You stroke it once or twice, teasing it until it's fully erect. "Does this feel good?" You ask. Despite being engaged to Fritz, you are still rather inexperienced. Johannes nods, then cuts off when you place your lips around him, taking his cock into your eager mouth.

"Oh, Oh god, sir!" Johannes whines, looking at his superior. He can feel the warmth of your mouth engulf his cock, your tongue rubbing ever so slightly along the prominent vein that runs on it's underside. "Don't be afraid to buck against her, just be sure no to damage her throat. She still struggles with taking a man fully." Fritz explains. At this, Johannes begins to gently thrust himself in and out, causing him to grip the sheets of the bed. "So good, ma'am. Please, uh... d-deeper, take me deeper." His little whines make your core throb, and you move to try and move him just a little further in, his tip rubbing the back of your mouth. He can feel his orgasm approaching, and calls out for Fritz. "Sir, I'm gonna cum again, am I allowed to-to, do I have your permission to-" He can barely ask, his legs shaking. "Of course, but ask her, she'll be the one to taste you." Fritz says. Johannes groans, and looks down at you. Tears prick the corners of his eyes. "Please, please ma'am, lemme cum inside, your mouth feels s' good. You feel so good, please!" He's begging now, the tears flowing freely. You bob your head, nodding, and the sight of your pretty face taking his cock with such ease sends him over the edge. "Ma'am, god, I'm cumming! Cumming in your mouth, shit..." He whimpers, feeling your mouth continue to suck him while he fills you up. He whines at the feeling of being practically milked by your tongue and soft lips. As he lays back, You swallow, and look at your betrothed.

Fritz is grinning, with one hand already unzipping the front of his trousers. "Felt s' good, sir." Johannes whispers, his cock now limp between his shaking legs. Fritz nods, grinning at how fucked-out his young subordinate is. "You did well, Johannes. So respectful and obeidient, servicing your superiors bride at his request." Johannes has to resist gasping at the praise. "Now, this last part is reserved for me, but you must watch and learn. It will be of use to you some day." Johannes watches as you lay on your stomach, innocent eyes looking up at him as you smile, while your fiancee slips out his reddended cock and lines it up with your pussy, caging you down beneath him as he prepares to take you from behind.

"Watch how a man gives his little bride a baby, Johannes..."