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moonlit-jeno · 3 years ago

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friends (m.)

pairing: lee jeno x fem reader

genre: explicit sexual content | omegaverse | heat sex | unprotected sex | some name calling

words: 3.6k

don’t like don’t read :)

“Your heat’s coming up.” Jeno says, point blank in between bites of his apple. You just nod, taking a break from your notes to side eye him. It’s not odd for him to know intimate details of your life- you do make sure to keep him updated on your cycle just so that he can send you the notes for the days you miss - but it’s not exactly a common subject for the two of you. “Who are you spending it with?”

There are still 13 powerpoint slides for you to grind through, but you figure a small break won’t hurt. Might as well use the conversation topic for something good, aka a reason to slam your laptop shut. You turn to Jeno, giving your best friend your full attention, and take the iced coffee right out of his hand. He doesn’t protest. “No idea. Would call Jaemin but he’s ‘found the one’ or something, so I’ll probably just spend it by myself.”

“By yourself?” Jeno’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as if you’ve just admitted to committing a sin. It’s not like the concept isn’t unheard of, there’s a market full of toys to help you through it. “Isn’t that dangerous?” You shrug and take a sip of the coffee, offering him your smoothie in exchange. He takes a sip and then bites down on your straw. His entire face scrunches and he yanks his face away from the beverage. He pulls the straw up, inspecting the now soggy and dented object with disgust. “Fuck, what is this made out of?”

“Paper.” You huff a laugh out through your nose, taking your smoothie back. “And I mean, it’s not any more dangerous than spending your heat with the wrong person. Plus, my heats get kind of… intense.” If Jaemin sleeping for three days straight and limping after is anything to go by, both parties take the short end of the stick. You’d felt so bad after and apologized to him profusely, but he had just thrown you his signature dazzling grin and told you that drowning in pussy was exactly the way he envisioned himself dying. He definitely didn’t complain about the brownies you’d baked him as a ‘thank you’, though.

“Spend your heat with me.” The bold request has your brain malfunctioning, at a loss for where to even start reacting to his statement. You just stare at him, mouth opening and closing repeatedly while he returns the gaze earnestly. “Look, it makes sense, right? I know you better than anyone, and you already trust me. Plus if they’re as intense as I’ve heard they are, you need someone there.”

You frown, opening your laptop up and staring blankly at the screen just to avoid having to look at Jeno. It does make sense to have him there with you, and it’s not like he’s the worst person to have sex with. Plenty of people around campus have delighted in talking about their nights with Jeno, dreamily telling you how lucky you are to have him and falling deaf to your insistence that the two of you aren’t like that. Plus, you’re not blind and even if you’re not the cute couple everyone thinks you are, you can admit that he’s hot.

“Wait, hang on. What do you mean ‘heard’ about? What shit is Na Jaemin saying?” Jeno’s shoulders shake with his laughter at your sudden concern. “I mean, he didn’t say anything, but that was kind of the problem. He didn’t show up to practice for like a week and when he finally did, he looked like he’d been mauled. Coach had to bench him.”

Your heart drops slightly at hearing that Jaemin’s soccer had been affected. He hadn’t told you that. “Oh.” The guilt must show on your face because Jeno is quickly soothing you, making sure to tell you that they all found Jaemin’s state funny. “Okay, wait. Wouldn’t you have the same problem if you help me?”

“It’s off-season. So, what do you say?” Jeno waits for your response expectantly, eyes soft, curious. “You can say no, y/n. I don’t want to pressure you at all, I’m just letting you know that it’s an option.” “I’ll think about it.” And you do. A concerning amount.

You spend that night tossing and turning, trying and failing to shut your brain off. Worries about ruining your friendship and about hurting Jeno bounce around your brain no matter how much you try to stop thinking about it. What if something bad happens during it? What if you never talk again? And worst of all is your brain telling you that he doesn’t actually want you specifically, he just wants to be with an omega in heat. You’re just convenient.

That thought actually makes you cry and you wrap your blankets even tighter around yourself, sobbing weakly into your pillows. In an effort to distract your wandering mind you grab for your phone, opening instagram to find an influx of dm’s from Jeno. It calms you a bit, the messages ranging from cute dogs to absolutely cursed memes, and you smile softly at the reminder that he’s your best friend, and that he definitely cares about you. Biting your lip, you hesitate for only a few moments before typing out a “you can help”, hitting send before you can second guess it. You lock your phone and set it face down on the dresser, thankfully finding sleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

It’s hot when you wake up, clothes clinging to your skin uncomfortably. Peeling your shirt off only gives you relief for a moment but then the sticky heat is back full force. You whimper in misery, trying to snuggle back into your bed for at least some comfort, but you find that the corner of your fitted sheet has come up, the rest of your blankets on the floor. There’s only one pillow near you and it’s soaked in sweat. You panic slightly, frantically yanking your sheets back onto the bed and trying to fluff them up as much as possible, only calming down once the bedding has been fixed to your liking. Only once you’ve settled down in the plushness of your blankets do you have a moment of clarity.

“Oh shit.” You shoot up and search for your phone, dropping it once before finally managing to open the correct app. There’s a few messages from Jeno that you don’t bother looking at, going straight for the ‘call’ button. He picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?” He sounds groggy, like he’s just woken up, and a flash of heat runs through you at the low tone. “Why are you calling me at 5 a.m?”

You manage to stop fantasizing about your best friend long enough to choke out the word “Heat.” It comes out pathetic and whiny and you pause to clear your throat, trying to keep a clear head as well. “I’m sorry, my heat came early and I wanted to call you but you can go back to bed, I didn’t realize-”

“Fuck, okay, I’ll be over in 10.” Jeno cuts off your rambling with a swear, some rustling in the background accompanying his words.

“Thank you.” You whisper, setting the phone down and curling up in bed, trying not to focus on how agonizingly slow the time is passing.

Jeno’s looking down at his shoes when you open the door, kicking idly at the door mat and fidgeting with the bag in his hands, though his head snaps up when he notices you. The smile on his face falters when he inhales, turns a little strained as he gets a taste of your heat, and you honestly give him props for the amount of restraint he has. It’s definitely more than you have, at least, because you’re on him the second he’s inside. He ends up sandwiched between you and the door, bag dangling precariously in one hand while he envelopes you in his strong arms. You don’t (can’t) do anything besides bury your face in his chest and whimper, knowing exactly what you want but being too needy and fuzzy to remedy it.

“Jeno, it hurts.” You whimper and lift your face to nose along the skin just above the collar of his shirt, finding that while the skin to skin contact helps, it doesn’t fully relieve the heat scorching through you, the dull ache screaming for Jeno to take you already. “Please…” He holds you closer to his chest, encasing you fully in his scent, and picks you up bridal style. “I’ve got you baby, don’t worry.”

Being around Jeno does help to ease your stress, but it also serves to make you needier. The warm scent that you’ve grown to associate with the man is stronger than you’ve ever smelled it and it’s making you lose your mind more and more by the second. You’re worried that you’re drooling by the time he sets you down on your bed. He pauses to drop the bag he’s holding on the floor, and then he’s on top of you, strong arms caging you in.

The first kiss is soft, chaste. It would be cute if you weren’t so fucking needy, but you are and it’s just not enough. Unsatisfied, you thread your fingers through his hair and tug, nipping at his bottom lip and tilting your head to the side to get a deeper angle. A groan rumbles in his chest and he returns the kiss with more intensity, trying to take control again. You don’t let him, even if every instinct in your body is screaming at you to just submit.

Jeno shifts on top of you, scooting so that he can fully lay down between your legs. You wrap your limbs around him on instinct, pulling him as close as you possibly can and- oh. The close proximity means that you feel everything when he grinds down, and the feeling of having him so close to where you need him has any semblance of control that you had draining out of your body. You gasp pitifully, annoyance clawing at you from the amount of fabric blocking you from what you want.

“Please,” You almost sob, tugging at his shirt while trying to grind your lower half against his, the pressure of his cock against your center making your eyes roll. Jeno pulls back to yank his shirt off and then he’s back, hands sliding down your body to your panties, tugging the fabric down as far as he can before he growls in frustration and just rips the fabric in half.

“Shit, you’re so wet.” Jeno moans in awe, breaking the kiss yet again to marvel at your pussy. “Bet I could just slip right in.” He drags his fingers through the slick on your upper thighs, eyes glued between your legs. You’re just about to complain when he finally presses his fingers into you. The initial relief has you moaning sweetly, though it quickly turns to impatient pleas for his cock. You clench around his fingers, reaching a hand down to palm over where he strains against his sweats.

“I need you to fuck me.” You beg, looking at him with what you hope is a convincing expression. “Please Jen, I need you.” “You have me.” He promises you, flicking his wrist faster, curling his fingers just right. “I’m right here baby.” It’s sweet, and under normal circumstances it would be enough, but right now it’s not what you need and the frustration has you on the brink of tears.

You buck your hips and try to arch up as if it’ll magically make him slip in, but Jeno remains as patient and controlled as ever. It’s too hot and every part of your body is screaming for him to fuck you, for him to claim you, and his refusal is killing you. “Alpha please, I need you.”

He absolutely snarls, pinning down your wriggling body with one hand around your throat. The other hand stays between your legs where it continues to strike pleasure into every single nerve ending you have, adding to the fire already coursing through your veins. “What you need is to take what your Alpha’s giving you. You’re not in charge here, okay?” With his face pressed so close to yours you have no choice but to make direct eye contact, staring straight into the most intense gaze you’ve ever seen. His pupils are blown out so wide that his eyes are almost black. Unable to tear your eyes away and as if in a trance, you find yourself nodding. The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Good girl. Now listen to your Alpha and cum.”

It happens almost instantaneously, as if his words were directly connected to a trigger, your body exploding just as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your entire body locks up, mind going blank as the immense pleasure takes hold of you, leaving you clawing at his back and screaming silently into the air.

The orgasm only serves to thicken the haze in your mind, clouding any thoughts that aren’t related to the Alpha above you and his cock. It takes a moment for your eyes to finally come back into focus enough to make out your surroundings, and you’re greeted by the sight of Jeno with his fingers in his mouth, sucking your essence off of his digits. You’re burning so hot, so much hotter than you think you’ve been before, and it’s hard for you to function. All you can think about is his cock.

“Please,” You beg, swatting at him weakly. “Alpha please, I need you so bad.”

There’s no way that Jeno isn’t being affected by the pheromones clouding the air, but he manages to appear unbothered, his actions rough but nowhere near as desperate as yours. He just laughs lightly at your begging. “Aww, baby needs me?” The rhetorical question is punctuated by a slap, his hand coming down on your pussy hard enough to draw a yelp from you, thighs closing on his hand in a conflicting attempt to relieve the pressure from the hit and keep his hand on your cunt. He laughs meanly and pulls his hand away, drawing back slightly to spit onto your already soaking pussy, rubbing the spit into your skin while he talks. “This pussy belongs to me, yeah? You’re mine now.” Jeno leans down, mouth at your neck so that he can bite at the skin. “That means that I can do whatever I want with you.” You can’t speak, can’t even begin to think about what you should say in this situation. He presses a kiss to your jaw before pulling back and uses his free hand to turn your head so that you make eye contact with him. “Tell Alpha what you need.” “Need Alpha in me.” You beg, plead, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees and arching your back, presenting yourself to him. “Need your knot, need you to fill me up, breed me, Alpha please-” Your sentence is cut off by his cock slamming into you, the filthy sound being drowned out by his groan. You gasp in relief, breathy thank you’s leaving you with each powerful thrust he delivers. His cock stretches you out so well, makes you go dizzy with the relief of finally having him in you. Your elbows give out nearly instantly, your chest hitting the mattress, and Jeno takes instant advantage of the new position to pull your hips even higher into the air.

It’s so good- almost too good- and it leaves you drooling and clawing at the sheets. All you can focus on is how well he’s fucking you, how he’s going to fill you up so well, breed you like he was meant to.

You scream when he pulls out, alarm bells going off as your body instantly protests. It only lasts a second though, Jeno’s hands never leaving your body as he flips you onto your back.

“Couldn’t see you,” Jeno pants out, dropping a kiss to the corner of your mouth and pushing back in, returning back to the brutal rhythm he had before. It has your eyes rolling in your head at how fucking good he feels. “My pretty baby, taking everything I give her.”

He’s got you so fucked out that you don’t even realize your tongue is hanging out of your mouth until he pinches it between his thumb and index finger, pulling it out even more. “You love my cock, hmm? You love everything I give you.” The pad of his thumb rubs over your tongue, the sensation making your toes curl and tears slide down your cheeks. “Such a fucking needy omega, isn’t that right?” He tugs on your tongue, your head following his actions as he leads you into nodding.

Jeno laughs and lets go of your tongue, dropping his face down to kiss at your neck. He sucks mark after mark into your skin, licking over each one to soothe it after, until he finally gets to your most sensitive, vulnerable spot. Even just the feeling of him close to your mating mark has your entire body aching for it, your neck craning to the side and pushing into his touch. The leverage you get from your legs wrapped around his waist has him pushing even deeper into you and you can feel his knot at your entrance, not quite fully swollen but definitely getting there. It has you absolutely keening, the thought of being so totally owned making you desperate.The sweet drag of his cock along your walls paired with the absolute filth he’s spewing has your body locking up with no warning, your orgasm ripping through you. You arch off the bed, the action only pushing you further onto his cock.

“God y/n, fuck!” Jeno curses, slamming his hips into you with even more force, his knot popping into your entrance and forcing the neediest sound you’ve ever made to leave your lips. You desperately wrap your limbs around him, trying to get him even closer, digging your heels into his ass to push him further inside. He grinds his hips against you one, two, three more times before he shudders, teeth clamping down right on your sweet spot as he comes. Jeno seems to come forever, filling you up with delicious warmth, making your body purr in satisfaction. He finally comes down, having the clarity of mind to tip the two of you onto your sides so that he doesn’t crush you when he collapses. He still tugs you close, arm thrown around your body possessively, his chin resting atop of your head.

“Told you it was intense.” You laugh out, trying to break the silence in the room. The heat’s subsided for now, but you’re still barely in your mind, and you have no idea how long the break will last.

He huffs out a laugh, chest shaking against you. “I understand Jaemin now.” His hand pets over your back, sliding up to the back of your neck and scratching lightly at the skin there. “You alright?” “Mhmm, yeah. Perfect.” His fingertips press lightly against the mating mark, sending sparks shooting down your spine, and it has your head spinning. You try to adjust yourself against him in an effort to keep your cool, but moving has his cock shifting inside of you and you sleepily grind against him, not thinking. Jeno hisses and tightens his grip on you to keep you still, but the way he grabs your leg has him shifting inside of you and pressing against all the right places. Heat floods through you and your grinding turns more urgent.

“Ohgod,” You moan, finding enough strength to push Jeno flat on his back. Your body has a mind of its own and you find yourself bouncing desperately on his cock. His knot has you locked into place and you’re barely able to move, but you can still swirl and grind your hips against him, feel the delicious friction of his knot against your entrance. “Alpha, it feels so good.”

“Fuck, look at you. So fucking knotdrunk, hmm? Can’t get enough.” Jeno shakes his head, laughs in a way that’s meant to mock you but it comes out strained. His hands are heavy on your ass, squeezing and slapping to feel the way it jiggles, to feel the way you clench around him with every hit. You throw your head back and let him do as he pleases, losing yourself entirely in how full you feel, in how good his knot feels in you. He buries his face into your chest, moving one hand from your ass to play with your tits, his mouth wasting no time in marking the delicate skin up.

“Shit baby, gonna make me cum again.” His lips seal over your mating mark again in a sloppy kiss and that’s exactly the final push that you need, your eyes rolling back and your tongue lolling out as your cunt spasms around him, orgasm ripping through you almost painfully. Jeno groans as well, hand flying to your back to pull you as close as possible, and his knot pulses inside of you as you swear you feel more cum shoot out.

He shudders against you, tight grip finally relaxing, though he still keeps you anchored to his chest. You follow suit, collapsing against him. A tired moan leaves you and you let yourself relax, lips absentmindedly mouthing at his skin. His hand pets your back soothingly, touch heavy and sluggish, and the last thing you feel before you fall asleep is his lips on your forehead.

#jeno smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #00 line smut #kpop smut #lee jeno smut

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hyunjilicious · 4 years ago

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A/n: I'm low-key terrified because I never wrote anything like this before... 🥺 so I hope it doesn't suck? Thanks for the request @hommoturttle I hope its ok!

Summary: just sex. And breeding kink. SMUT 1.6K

Warnings: smut, some dirty talk, the tiniest bit of degradation, breeding kink obvi and some possessive Bucky. 18+ please!! (also idk about you but this gif does ✨things✨ to me - like.. Mr Barnes, stick whatever you want wherever you wantksksksk ok I'm done 🥲)

It would happen after a mission that you went on without him. No matter how used he is to going away and putting himself in danger, his brain refuses to accept that that's your job too. He gets crazy worried, sweats through most of the nights that you're not there to sleep on his chest, snaps at everyone that tells him to calm down, and counts the days until you're back. He's usually able to stand the distance, but not in these scenarios. He always ends up missing you like you've been gone for months, but the way the night you're back unfolds, makes up for everything.

No amount of cuddling, sweet nothings or showers together could possibly make up for the time away like the frantic rounds of sex you always go through as soon as you get back do. And it's always the same, he's on top of you, hovering above your body as his eyes never leave your frame. He wants to see every detail, every inch of your face, every feature that he loves so much.

It starts crazy and it ends even more so. Foreplay is long forgotten, everything you get is him throwing you on the bed and ripping every piece of clothing that stands in his way. And it's more than enough, the pure need and hunger in his manic blue eyes, has the power to drive you insane in record time.

You're a squirming, wet and needy mess by the time he has you naked on his bed, hands clawing up to him. "Come on, Bucky, I need you"

And it drives him up the walls too. He hates the belt that slows him down, and his shirts never make it out intact.

Biting down hard on his lower lip as his need gets the best of him, Bucky's breathing passes the threshold of obscene, his buffed chest heaving as he can't help himself.

"Come here, doll" he finally rasps, his voice low and grave as his jeans fall to the floor.

In a moment, he's on top of you, his legs lodged in between yours. Every touch is amplified by the wait and the feeling of his rough hands on your waist is mind-blowing. You squirm under his touch, trying to wiggle your way closer to him.

"Missed me too, huh?" Bucky grins proudly, gently but sternly grabbing your chin. His thumb rubs along your jawline, his teeth showing as he can't hide his enthusiasm.

"Yes-" you breathe out, melting under his touch. "Missed you so much, Buck."

"Need me?" he keeps teasing, lowering himself so that his lips reach the side of your neck. At first, it's his hot breath that you allow yourself to get drunk on, but when his teeth lewdly sink into your skin, you yelp, your thighs involuntarily closing around his hips.

And you can tell he takes pride in the responses he gets from you. You're sure he feels the goosebumps up your arms, or the way your rib cage shakes with every breath you take. But he keeps going, his greedy hands exploring your naked body, taking your breasts into his palms as he keeps on sucking claim marks into your neck.

"Fuck, Bucky-" you moan, back arching. His lips and his fingers are already too much for you to take, but when the tip of his cock brushes against your thigh, you're all but done.

"Tell me you need me, doll" he hums, pushing himself up on his left arm. The mattress dips under the weight of his metal hand, and as you look between your bodies, your eyes land on the way he's eagerly fisting his cock in his right hand. You're caged in his hold, and it's the only thing you want.

"You're all I need, Bucky" you cry, your hands softly roaming up his chest. His hair had fallen around his face, framing his features and offering them the required amount of shadow needed to accentuate his carnal desire. Bottom lip wet and lodged between his teeth, he watches you closely, waiting for more.

"Bucky, please-" you continue, uselessly shaking your hips from side to side. "I'm already so wet, I'm such a mess for you sometimes. Just use me, do whatever you want with me, I just need to feel you, Bucky. Deep inside me, please"

He shakes his head in disbelief, hints of bitter laughter escaping his lips. "Such a needy, little thing" he muttered to himself.

With your mind clouded and busy enjoying the build-up, when the tip of his cock connectes to your folds, your eyes snap wide. Your reaction brings a proud grin to Bucky’s lips, but this is just the beginning.

Giving you no time to adjust whatsoever, he slams himself into you, bottoming out as you feel your breath cut short. "Fuck, fuck-" you pant, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself.

"Be good for me, doll, ok?" Bucky groans against your ear. His body is right on top of yours, fully rocking you against the mattress with every deep and powerful thrust of his hips. "You need to take all of me"

You can feel him up into your chest, your pleasure materializing in the form of tears, coating your eyes for just a short second before running down your temples.

"Buck-" you cry.

"I'm gonna fill you up, baby" he grunts, holding onto your shoulders as he shoves himself deeper. "Deep inside your belly, yeah? Gonna feel me for days"

And you're not that close yet, your brain isn't yet drowning in hormones, so you can think straight, you can form a decent answer - but you refuse to. You just squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth, sucking the pleasure his cock forced into your body. Every vein is palpable, your walls closing in around him as if his size isn't already a tad bit more than you'd normally find comfortable. But you love it, he's there, as close as he can get, consuming himself right there with you.

"Fuck-" Bucky grunts, his metal fingers wrapping around the roots of your hair. It's unwashed - a weeks worth of sweat embedded into its fibers but he doesn't care. He only sees you. "I missed you so fucking bad, doll-"

"I'm here, baby-" you coo, your words shaky and barely audible.

You don't know if he heard you, or if he even processed your sentence, he's too caught up.

"You're mine - you're here with me, only mine-" he adds, fervently sucking away at the skin of your neck. "My baby, my angel, mine-" he grunts, emphasising his last word with the help of a ravaging thrust that shakes you to your core.

You cry out, his name burning your throat as you feel him ripping your insides apart.

"Bucky- Buck- I-"

"So sweet-" he cuts you off, moving his head to the other side of your neck. "And only fucking mine. Say it-" he demands.

"I'm-" you gasp, "I'm yours, only yours"

"All mine"

You faintly nod along, vision blurry as you start to lose yourself.

"Say it!" Bucky adds.

"I'm all yours"

"Say it again"

"I'm... all- all yours, Bucky" you manage to mutter before a pleasure filled whine erupts from your throat. "I'm getting close… Bucky, I can't-"

"Easy now-" he moans, slowing down his pace. He comes face to face with you, his damp lips sloppily pressing against yours. He's still balls deep inside your cunt, making the gentle movement of his hips almost unbearable.

Eventually, he slowly tilts your head to the side, burying his face into your hair as he whispers against your ear, "I'm gonna pump you full, yeah? Gonna fill this sweet cunt with my cum, and you, like the good little slut you are, are not gonna let any of it go waste, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Gonna use that pretty cunt of yours to milk my cock dry, yeah?"

You whimper and nodd, frantically trying to get him to pick up his pace. But he isn't having it. When he finally pulls out at that agonisingly slow pace, he captures your lips into another kiss as he slams himself back in.

"Come on, Bucky, fill me up" you cried, involuntarily pulling breaking the kiss, "I wanna feel you inside me"

"Oh, you're gonna feel me inside you alright" he taunted, repeating his movements and pulling all the way out before forcing himself all the way back in. "A little bit of me inside you-" he growls and thrusts again, deeper and harder, "Growing inside you-"

"Holy- fuck!" you screamed, throwing your head back.

"Mine forever, doll-" Bucky grunts, both of you dangerously close the edge, "Yeah?"

"Mhm-" you hum, whiny and all teary eyed with your lips gathered between your teeth.

And then you're all but done - legs tightly wrapped around his middle - every muscle of your body clenching uncontrollably as a spiral of pleasure engulfs your body. And Bucky isn't far behind, your name being the only thing on his lips as he shoots his load deep inside your pussy - careless and irregular, a few last thrusts until he crashes down on top of you.

Although out of breath, as the last waves of your orgasm propagate along your body, you still cling to him. Bucky's face is hidden against your shoulder as he struggles to come down from his high, none of you willing to move even an inch.

"I'm never pulling out" he jokes, and it takes all the energy you have left inside your body to chuckle along.

"Wouldn't ask you to" you laugh, "But you're crushing me so-"

With a grunt, but still with impeccable ease, Bucky wraps his arms around your middle and spins the two of you around, until he's laying on his back with you against his chest.

"There-" he shrugs placing a kiss on the top of your head, "Problem solved"

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader

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hansensgirl · 4 years ago

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i’m in the water.

summary. | He’s in the wind, and you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.

warnings. | non/dubcon, smut, angst, protectiveness, kidnapping (implied), stockholm syndrome, obsessiveness, death/violence, dark themes, DDLG undertones, creampie kink, choking, piss kink (both pee), degradation, pet play undertones, p in v sex, Master kink, dacryphilia, crawling, slapping, hair pulling, face fucking, boot riding, orgasm denial, spitting, gagging, manhandling, praise, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI.

word count. | 8.5k

pairings. | Dark!Winter Soldier x Naive!Reader.

a/n. | please heed the warnings! i hope you enjoy, and please don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know. they’re both very hydrated! this takes place in the 90’s! thank you so much @asadmarveltrashbag and @mypoisonedvine for proof reading for me ilysm!!

From the day you were born, you always felt as though your legs are broken. Always needing crutches throughout your life to hold you up, always needing support. But you never really had these crutches, so you'd always drag your hands against the brick walls to support yourself. Vulnerable, breaking away at the edges, falling down. Nothing kind ever came, and it stays the same for a while.

So maybe that’s why you lean into his icy cold touch. So abrasive and yet so caring. His aspects are juxtaposed to each other, just like in those Magritte paintings your art teacher would show you. She was always a kind lady, but you don’t care enough about her to wonder where she is in life now. She was kind to you, though, so you hope that she isn’t suffering like you are.

Your goosebumps raise for the fifth time in this painfully slow hour.

“Are you cold, кролик?” he asks even though he knows the answer. You hum. You always do. Your voice doesn’t raise in an affirmation. It stays flat; he knows what that means. “Thinking again?” he gruffly presses, squeezes your bare arms. The thin, grey shirt with torn sleeves does nothing to protect your body. But why do you ask for protection against the man who has done everything for you?

“Why… Why do people believe that grey is a boring colour?” you ask him, looking around the dark cell that surrounds you. Soldat grunts, not knowing what to say. “I think it’s quite beautiful. All colours have different shades, yes, but there’s something about grey. Each shade comes with a different emotion. Don’t you think so?” you ask him, looking down to your lap.

A carrot toy sits there. It’s filled with cotton balls from the medical room, by his request. “Yes…” He bites the tip of his tongue, not sure what to say because the Soldat only has a few emotions and a few words. “Why can’t we get a different wall colour?” you question him, turning around to face the man.

“It’s not allowed,” he reminds you. You feel like you’re experiencing déjà-vu, but then again, the days have blurred together so well that you can’t tell if the tape is being put on rewind already. You have to assume that your celluloid scenes are fading away along with your sanity. It’s torn at the seams. Threads hanging that just need to be ripped or cut out.

“Beige would look lovely…” you point out solemnly. The Soldat doesn’t know what shade of beige you’re thinking of, but he believes it would be beautiful nonetheless. “I… have a mission,” he tells you after a while. You hum in that same monotonous tone again, so he squeezes your arm even tighter. “When, Master?” you curiously ask, only now taking in his words.

“Tonight. Approximately at twenty-one hours,” he informs you in that mechanic voice of his that you hate. It makes you feel more trapped and vulnerable, even though there’s quite literally a chip in the back of your neck. “How long?” you ask him softly, a frown already beginning to display itself on your face.

He doesn’t like it when you frown. He prefers the lines that your smile provides over the lines your frown forces. That innocent glint in your eyes shines a bit, flickering like a dull light on the verge of completely blowing. Though it’s not much, it’s still something. And when it goes away, his entire being is filled with darkness.

You’re the light of his life, the fire of his loins.

“Not sure. Extraction of information. Senators and mayors…” He begins to ramble, and you shake your head. “Sorry, кролик,” he apologizes as he notices how uncomfortable you’re starting to get. You hum again. He wonders if you were a bird in your past life, perhaps a hummingbird, to be more exact. Or maybe even a swan or a dove because you’re just as beautiful as they are, if not more.

“You know how to behave, right? Потому что ты мой хорош��й маленький кролик?” he asks, and you don’t understand the second question, but you understand the former. “I know, Master,” you breathe, an airy ending to your words. “You’ll be good, кролик?” he questions one more time, and you lazily nod. You’re tired. Your body moves at a drowsy pace, and you don’t like it.

You don’t want to sleep, though. Scared that if you shut your eyes for too long, the monsters will come back, and Soldat won’t be able to save you. He always saves you. You’re his damsel, constantly in distress, locked away in a gilded cage. But he tells you it’s not a gilded cage. It’s not a run-down cell built in the fifties. It’s your home, even though you haven’t known what home is like for a while.

“I’ll always be good for you, Master. Please don’t leave for long. I get lonely easily,” you express in small bits of sadness and distress. “I know, кролик, я знаю,” Soldat says as he hugs you closer. You tilt your head backwards and let it lull on his shoulder. “I’ll be back as soon as possible,” he promises, and you know it’s not true because he never fulfills it. “But my carrot can’t keep me company for all those hours… Please stay? Please?” you plead with tears welling in your eyes.

“Я могу составить ей хорошую компанию,” the soldier standing outside the cell mutters under his breath, earning a few snickers from his coworkers. I can keep her in good company, is what he said. And it’s truly unfortunate that the guards have forgotten that the Soldat — the Asset — has super-hearing. Their laughter dies down into sighs, and Winter’s chest begins to heave.

He puffs up like the big bad wolf he is, and he tosses you to the side like a rag doll. You watch him as he strides his way over to the guards. Each step carries the weight of the Winter Soldier, the one who’s ready to kill whoever is in his sight. Except for you. His bionic hand reaches through the metal bars that separate him from the outside world.

He wraps his fingers around the guard’s neck, and he squeezes his throat tightly. As Winter crushes the guard’s windpipe, you watch him behind slightly squinted eyelids. Tears blur your eyesight, and you remember that time when you were holding off the tears so well, you couldn't see the HYDRA van driving ahead of you.

Maybe if you could control your emotions a little better, you wouldn’t be here.

But then again, where would you be without the Soldat? Miserable, stuck in the worst parts of town without anyone. Having to drag your hands across those brick walls, again and again. Surviving on your own, teetering on the edge of death. Just like these men at the hands of the Soldat.

The crunching of bones and the screams of men are all blocked out for you. You focus on Soldat’s arm whirring in the most satisfying harmony you’ve heard in the past two years. Other than the orchestra you both have managed to make almost every day. But you still cup your hands over your ears.

Winter pulls a knife from the guard’s limp body. That very same knife ends up inside his heart, stopping it from pumping. The guards begin shooting at Winter, but he easily shields himself with the metal arm. It goes silent, but you keep your hands over your ears. Muffled talking steps in place of the silence, and you look up to see members of HYDRA staring at your Winter and you.

“Солдат, Что ты натворил?” One of the head agents asks. You believe his name is Vasily Karpov because that is what Winter has told you. “The… The guard said something about my кролик. He’s not supposed to,” Winter explains, looking to the ground. Karpov mutters a chain of curse words under his breath that you’re not too happy about. One of the other agents asks him to speak up, and he snaps.

“Just get him to the armoury! We need to prep him,” he shouts before stalking away from the scene. They all stick around a few more seconds before scurrying off like little mice. The dead bodies still lay on the floor, but nobody seems to really care. What’s happened has happened, and there’s no changing it.

“Привести с собой солдата!” A rough voice blasts through the intercoms, and suddenly, more guards show up at your cell. You curl up into a ball and rest your forehead against your knees. You can’t bear to watch them take him away. You wait until the cell door swings shut, and then men stomp away. But even then, you cannot look up.

Bring the Soldat.

He wears that mask of his. The last time you saw it, it was caked with dirt and blood. You can hear his hard breathing behind it, almost sounding as though he’s just run a marathon. He sits in the edge of the cot — the left corner, to be exact — and he watches you. The Soldat states as you look down at the array of snacks he’s provided you with.

“Kролик,” Winter gruffly calls, and you turn around. You hum and your voice raises at the end. You haven’t done that in a while, so it startles him a bit. “Which one?” he asks, stretching his neck out just a bit to see what snack you’ve chosen. “N… Not sure,” you shyly whisper, ducking your head down in fear.

“Green one,” he says after a while, and you place your hand on it. “I don’t know what it is?” you confusingly say. The Russian text on it confuses you, so you hand it to Winter. “ Sour Patch Kids…” Winter reads out loud, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion. “Oh, I like those!” you eagerly cheer, sitting up on your knees. You turn around and reach your hand out for him to give them to you.

They’ve wiped him. You know it, and you hate it. They’ve taken all emotion away from him, and now he’s just an empty shell of a man. His softness from just a few hours ago has now gone away, and you don’t know what to expect of himself. But then again, you never do.

Hesitatingly, he hands it over. “Don’t eat now. Sugar will keep you up,” he warns, and you nod. Your father would say the same thing when you were younger. The only difference is that your father had more love in his voice than Winter ever will. “We need to go over the rules,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You hum again, and he continues. “Do you remember your rules?” Winter asks, and you hum once more.

“Кролик,” he growls, and you look up. “Do you need me to repeat the rules?” Winter questions and you shake your head in objection. He doesn’t listen, though, because he knows you don’t remember them. You never seem to remember the big, important parts of the puzzle. Only the small corner pieces that don’t really matter. “I’ll tell you them anyway, and you’re going to listen to every word I say. Understood, кролик?” he raises his eyebrow, not leaving any room for protesting.

You gulp thickly and nod. “Don’t make any noises, don’t touch yourself, don’t talk to the guards, don’t let anyone touch you, don’t hurt yourself and don’t even think of escaping,” he lists, and the last one makes tears sting your eyes. “I won’t escape. ‘S not like I can even do anything in here,” you whisper under your breath, and he stands up. Metal fingers grip your chin tightly, and Winter slowly kneels down in front of you.

You’re watched like a pet. You always have been. Not even a pet, more like a possession. Seen as an object with no feelings and no emotions. As though you don’t have a heart that pumps crimson blood and lungs that expand with each breath you take. “Don’t ever speak like that again. I can easily stitch those pretty lips of yours shut, кролик,” he threatens, and you feel your tears beginning to leak.

No, no, no, no, no. Not now.

He laughs. He fucking laughs, and you want to cry even more because you need him. You need your support, but he doesn’t want to give it to you. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. “You’re so fucking… precious. Especially when you shed those tears of yours,” he tells you with a hidden smile behind his mask. He squeezes your jaw even tighter, and you whimper out a small ‘thank you, Master’ to him.

“I wasn’t finished listing the rules, so keep your fly shut,” Winter sneers, and you nod your head slowly. “When I get back, which will be in around three hours, you have to finish drinking all those bottles of water,” he stays, snapping his fingers to grab your attention. Your eyes follow those very same fingers as they point at the four bottles of water sitting by the bed.

You never noticed them until just now. “Oh, and you can’t go to the bathroom until I say so,” he adds with a slight humorous chuckle to his voice. Your eyeballs nearly fall out of their sockets. “Don’t worry, кролик, I’ll be back so quickly, it’ll feel like a few minutes,” he promises, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. It reminds you of when you were young, and your parents would take you to the beach.

Your parents would build sandcastles with you until they got tired. You would beg your father to piggyback you into the sea, and he would do exactly that. Your mother would carry her disposable camera with her just to take photos that would end up in the green photo album from the thrift store.

And when you got a bit older, you’d go by yourself—older in the sense that you have to start paying the bus fare of $3. You’d head to the beach after dinner and before your parents came home from work. The sky would either be a dark, dark grey or a lovely mix of pastels. The water would wash beneath your feet, pulling and loosening clumps of sand.

Taking it away the same manner Winter took your innocence.

“And remember, if you break any of these rules, I’ll know. And the outcome won’t be as pretty as your face or that pussy of yours, кролик,” Soldat warns, and you nod your head. “Yes, Master,” you shyly say to him. You want to look down at the concrete flooring so badly, but his iron-clad grip on you doesn’t loosen until a minute after your words. He looks down at you, and you look away. His strong gaze is just as powerful as the summer sun that would beat down on your skin.

“Прощай, кролик.”

You never realized how thirsty you were until just now. You’ve finished all four bottles in the span of two hours, and now you’re counting down the minutes until Soldat arrives. There are no guards standing outside your cell, so you’re all alone. Not even your intrusive thoughts have visited, and you wonder if the water was spiked.

You were never that good at telling time. It would always take you a few seconds to find the minute hand and the hour hand. But the digital clock that is on the wall across from your cell is quite helpful. It even has seconds on it, too. So you count down out loud, trying to ignore the full feeling in your stomach.

Stomping echoes down the hallways, and you don’t know if he’s close by or meters away from you. You never could tell. Russian words fall off the agents’ tongues, and sometimes you wish you could understand them. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel like such an outsider even though you’re trapped in their home. “Ты свободен, солдат,” one of the agents say, and you can hear Winter grunt.

You’re free to go, Soldat.

His big, heavy feet stomp down the hallway. The sounds bounce off the greyish-green walls, stained with different things such as blood and dirt. You can hear his metal arm whirring, and your heart jumps with fear. You’re not scared of him; you’re scared of what he’s capable of.

Oh, who are you kidding? You’re terrified of him.

The guards open up the cell door, and you look up, locking eyes with his. They’re dark and empty as they usually are. “Кролик,” he growls, and you whimper. You run up to him and hug him, feeling the water slosh inside of you. You slow your breathing down the same way your elementary school nurse told you to when you were younger and try your hardest not to throw up.

“Missed me, hm?” Winter questions and you nod meekly. Though you didn’t want to admit it two years ago, you do now. “Missed you lots, Master,” you tell him. The leather is cold against your warm skin. If you focus just a bit more, you could feel the creases of the fabric as well. But you’re too busy with him, so you ignore it. “W- Was the mission good, Master?” you nervously ask him, only out of curiosity and nothing more.

“As always. Were you good, кролик?” Soldat questions in return, rightfully so. You nod eagerly and fiddle with your fingers behind his back. He acts like he can’t feel it, just for you not to stop hugging him. “Good girl… You seem like you want something. Out with it,” he orders, and you gulp in fear.

“I… I was wondering if I could go to the bathroom,” you meekly tell Winter, looking down to the ground. His boots are shiny and polished. Cleaner than anything you’ve seen before, and it’s confusing. He usually comes in covered with dirt, sweat, tears and blood. “You need to go to the bathroom, кролик?” he asks as if he didn’t hear you beforehand.

You shyly nod and unwrap your arms from around his broad torso. You wonder if he left the mission unscathed or not. Winter chuckles. It’s breathy, airy, sly and dark. “Aw, кролик, you’re adorable, the cutest кролик of them all. It’s too bad I’m not going to let you,” he sneers in that faux fantasy tone of his. You furrow your eyebrows and so desperately want to beg him, but it’s out of line, and he never asked, so you stay quiet.

Winter grabs your hand and drags you to the cot, reminding you of the way you’d pull your parents to the shore so they can play in the water with you. They’d both laugh before your father would tackle you in the water, and your mother would push him down in retaliation. You’d always resubmerge from the water with a smile on your face and laughter bellowing throughout the beach.

You miss those times.

You let him guide you to the bed you wish wasn’t yours. “What did you do while I was gone, кролик?” Soldat questions, sitting down on the canvas of the bed. You’re placed on his lap, almost as though he’s forcing you to reclaim a throne you need. And it’s true; you need him. His hands fall to your waist, and Winter holds you in place. “I drank all the water as you asked, and I just sat here, Master,” you recount to him, leaving out the parts of the past three hours he doesn’t need to know.

He hums in the same manner as you. “That’s all?” he questions, and you slowly nod your head. “Good, I’d hate to have to punish you this late in the night,” he says, pinching the skin on your torso. You don’t whimper because you’re used to it. He calls it affection, and so do you. Winter’s hands move from your sides to the front of your stomach, caressing you with a bit of pressure being put on your bladder.

You whimper and try to play it off with a cough, but you know deep down he doesn’t buy it. Soldat continues to run his hand against your stomach the same way you’d run across the shore. Slow, wary, yet with care from the ground beneath you. You like to think of the simpler, more happier times. You know if Winter pushes a little harder, you may not be able to control yourself any longer.

The pressure in your bladder grows every few seconds, so you squirm around in his lap. Your weight shifts from his left thigh to his right thigh, over and over, and he knows exactly what’s wrong. “Кролик… Are you feeling all tingly?” he asks you. You nod your head, but you take in his words. Meanings and implications are always lost with you. They fly over your head the same way birds do, and you only see them with someone's direction.

“N- No, Master, I just have to pee really badly…” you clarify to him, and he nods his head in understanding. You smile as a spark of hope lights inside of your heart. “I don’t think you do, кролик, I already told you,” he assures, and you sigh. “I- I know, Master, I’m sorry,” you apologize and drop your head down. “I think you’re having those tingles, кролик, is your little cunt wet?” Soldat questions even though you don’t have to answer.

His hand travels between your legs and to your pussy, cupping it tightly. You whimper and involuntarily grind against his hand. “You’re absolutely soaked, кролик! Were you thinking of me?” he interrogates, and you just go with it. “Y- Yes, Master, was thinking of you all the time,” you whisper to him. He squeezes your cunt tighter and purrs in your ear. “Then why didn’t you tell me beforehand, кролик?” Winter presses, and you feel fear pump through your veins.

“I- I knew you were tired from the mission, so I didn’t want to bother you, Master. I’m sorry, please forgive me!” you plead, and he clicks his tongue in disapproval. Your heart sinks to your stomach with each sound he makes, and you want death to take you right here, right now. The Soldat pushes you to the ground, and you fall with a loud ‘thud!’. Your knees hit the concrete hard, and you can feel your old scars open up a bit.

One was from a poor fall at the beach. Your father carried you home, and your mother tried to soothe you. You were only six at the time, but it felt like your world was ending.

Winter’s metal hand grabs your hair and tugs on your locks painfully. You bite back a pained moan as he yanks your head back. It’s not the first time he has nearly given you whiplash. He changes moods faster than anyone you’ve ever met. The Soldat walks around you, and you follow him with your eyes. “It’s okay, кролик. I’m not mad at you. I’m gonna treat you so well; you’re gonna love me even more,” he promises with a dark glint in his eyes.

He wedges his boot between your legs and underneath your cunt. “Get comfy, шлюха,” he orders. You shift yourself a bit, trying to alleviate any aches you feel, but it seems as though he wants you to be uncomfortable. Your pussy rests on his foot, and you wonder what he’s up to. His hand tilts your head to look up at him. You want to look away, just like when you’d look at the bright sun on a hot summer day. It was always too much to look at, but the sight was so captivating you couldn’t turn away.

“You said you wanted to go pee, right, маленькая потаскушка?” he questions, and you confusingly nod. “Then go ahead, do it,” he orders. You gasp, quite loudly, in fact. The reaction doesn’t please your Master, so he yanks on your hair a little tighter. “What’s wrong, сука? I thought that’s what you needed?” he interrogates, and you nod. “Yes, Master, but not like this,” you reason, and he growls. “I give you protection, I give you food, I give you my cum, I give you everything you need. What’s wrong now? Don’t you love me?” Winter asks.

Your heart quite literally breaks in two.

“I do, Master! I love you so much!” you promise, feeling those stupid tears of yours starting to well up. “Then why aren’t you listening to me, you dumb baby? Hm?” he presses, and panic begins to rise in your chest. The tears stream down your face the same way the waves would engulf you at the age of 7. “It’s just uncomfortable, Master, that’s all…” you reason with him. “Well, I don’t care. You’re gonna do it anyway, okay? I thought you were a good bunny for me…” Winter trails off as if he’s lost all hope and cause.

It makes you want to cry even harder.

Sniffling, you wipe your tears and try not to give up. “I am your good bunny, Master. Please don’t make me do this. I don’t want to!” you beg once again, and he grows weary of your patheticness. Winter bends down, and his flesh hand goes to the front of your flimsy shirt. Thin cotton rips away easily, with barely any strength coming from his behalf. The grey cloth is in two pieces, and he pushes them off your shoulders.

Your nipples harden as soon as the cool air brushes against them. Winter’s hand leaves your head, and you feel alone without his touch. “Seems like you forgot your place, кролик… You don’t get what you want; you get what you deserve. And what you deserve is to be put in your place,” he tells you, and your bones rattle with fear. The sound of a belt clinking and a zipping being pulled down grabs your attention, and you hold back a hearty sigh.

The Soldat stares you down as he throws his belt to the side just like he did you a few hours ago. “I can’t believe you, honestly. Думая, что ты так выше меня, пытаясь помешать мне делать то, что я хочу. After this, you’re going to regret ever talking back to me like that ever again,” he rants under his breath like the mad man he is. Your tears have dried up, but your bottom lip starts to wobble again. He huffs, tired of seeing you cry.

Winter halts his movements and goes to remove his mask, the one thing that’s been hiding that sinister smirk of his. The dark, matte material is clutched between the tips of his cut-up, bruised fingers. He carefully places the mask on your face, covering your mouth and nose. The action shuts you up, just like how he wants. You look up at him without blinking your tears away. You let them fall and soak the mask, staining it with your waterworks.

The Soldat pulls his big, thick cock out of his tactical pants. His cock is as hard as a rock, blooding pumping down to it, and his veins throb on the side of his shaft. Beads of precum drip down from his tip, rolling down his cock. He’s a raging red, desperate to be inside of you. His metal head returns to your head, and he brings you higher up in your knees. Your neck cranes at such a painful angle that the ache in your knees is ignored.

“You better fucking look at me while I teach you your lesson, шлюха,” he warns, and you listen to him easily. Through your haze of pained tears, you manage to look into his eyes. You’re not sure what he wants to do and what he’s going to do. You never do. The Soldat is unpredictable, and even in your two years of knowing him, you’ll never understand how the gears in his mind turn.

“Not so dumb after all, huh,” he chuckles before shaking his head. Winter sighs and smiles down at you. “One last chance, шлюха,” he tells you in a sing-song voice. You don’t say anything, and the Soldat clicks his tongue. Suddenly, instead of the delicious precum, he would usually make you lap up like a kitten, clear streams of warmth hit your chest. You gasp behind the mask, but it comes out as muffled nonsense to him.

“Stop!” you cry out to him, but your words are once again muffled. His pee soaks your chest as he relieves himself from the pressure in his bladder. Your hands bat at his stiff thighs, hitting them just so that he can stop humiliating you and treating you like you’re all but human. Winter growls, and his metal arm drops your head, and he slaps your hands away. His pee covers your tits and drips down your skin, staining you with disgust and humiliation.

The streams soon stop, and you’re sobbing even louder now. “Oh shut it, this isn’t even as bad of a punishment. I’m going easy on you, шлюха, I could easily do worse,” Soldat growls as the slightly tinted liquid drips from the tip and onto the ground. Your chest stutters with sobs, and you can barely breathe. You’re covered and coated like a freshly bought canvas, and Winter’s just ruined you. Almost in the same manner that you’d destroy your father’s canvas with your cheap, dollar store paint.

Winter bends down and grabs what was once your shirt and is now just a piece of cloth. Kind of like how your mother would give you any leftover scraps of fabric to make something for you. She’d never let anything go to waste. He uses it to wipe the drops of urine that still drip from his cock, and then he throws it at you like you mean nothing to him. You let it fall to the ground because there’s no possible way a piece of cloth that was once on your back can fix your honour.

But who are you kidding? You lost your honour the moment you gave into the Soldat, just like you always do.

You stretch your arms out to him, silently pleading for comfort from him. But he shakes his head with a sly smile on his face. “Aw, you want your Master to help you out, мой питомец?” Winter questions, and you eagerly nod your head. His metal hand goes to remove the mask, but he stops as soon as he touches it. “Say please,” he orders with faux sympathy in his voice. “Please, Master,” you beg to him, and he smiles.

Winter places his hand back on the mask and yanks it off of your face. The sides scratch your cheeks a bit, but that’s not what matters. “T- Thank you, Master. I love you so much,” you tell him before struggling to put a smile on your face. At the end of the day, no matter how brutal he is with you, you’ll always love him. ...Right? “You’re welcome, кролик,” he says as he throws the mask to where his belt lies.

Your cheeks are sticky and stained with tears, much like your chest. Winter’s flesh hand cups your left cheeky lightly, and he’s back to being the gentleman who has killed for you on numerous occasions. He wipes away the wetness on your cheek as his other hand goes to his cock, grabbing the base of it. “Say ‘ah,’ моя маленькая шлюшка,” he orders before you can even register his signature Cheshire smirk.

His cock is shoved inside your mouth without any warning. He always does that. No heads up, no preparation, nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. Winter wiggles his foot that’s underneath your cunt, and the sudden friction is startling. He calls you bunny because of this reason. You can get off on anything, and you’re always needy for him. “I can see how wet you are, шлюха. You’re soaking my boot with that little pussy of yours,” he coos.

You don’t realize how wet you are until he points it out. You’re absolutely soaking, and you’re not sure why. But for the utmost incomprehensible reason ever, you don’t care.

His cock slides down your throat until your nose nuzzles against his pubic bone. His balls touch your chin, and your saliva coats his cock thickly. Your throat and side of your kissable mouth both hurt horribly, but you ignore the pain just for him. “You’re my good little bunny, right?” he questions, and you nod while his cock rests on your tongue. “And good little bunnies like you always listen to their Masters, right?” Winter asks, and you nod again.

He smiles. His hand on your cheeks moves to the back of your head slowly, returning to its newfound home. “I bet you want to come, don’t you, кролик?” he interrogates, and he’s not wrong. You really do want to come, and you’re a bit ashamed of it. “Master will let you come, don’t worry. I’m gonna let you have cummies, кролик,” he promises, and you happily giggle around his cock.

“Go on, hump my boot like the little bunny you are,” he pushes, and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. You want to protest so badly, but the memories of what he just did to you freshly flood your mind like the memories from when you were younger. “Are you that stupid that I have to explain how to get yourself off? Or are you just not listening to me, кролик?” he asks in a tone that reminds you of subdued thunder.

You shake your hand and try to move your hips around a bit. Your soaking wet pussy grinds against the leather of Winter’s shoe, and your clit throbs at the feeling. Winter’s cock slides out of your mouth until the fat tip of it is all that’s left, and then he quickly shoves it back in. Your loud gags and his moans fill the room like music. Your loss of oxygen makes you see stars, and you can recall how much your father loved to paint the midnight skies until he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

Your old toothbrushes would serve as the home of the clouds of dust that the stars would be born from. His fingers would be covered in white paint that would fall off in the water and swirl down the sink. His black t-shirts would have white freckles on them, and your mother would always suggest for him to turn the cloth into a galaxy. He’d always tell her one day, and you’d always remind him of that day whenever you’d catch him painting.

“Fuck, you always do look even prettier with my cock in your mouth, кролик,” he swears, and you smile around his cock. Oh, well, you at least try to smile. You continue to rub yourself against his boot as he uses your throat as he pleases. Your hole drools with want, and your slick gives his shoe a shine that is unmatched by any other substance. The burning, fiery feeling on your clit spreads to your abdomen, and you can feel yourself being brought closer to the edge.

You’re moaning around his thick cock, sending sinful vibrations throughout him. “Fuck, are you gonna come, кролик?” he questions as he feels you hug his leg. You nod around his cock, and he begins to push your head back and forth of his cock, matching your desperate movements. He uses you like a fleshlight, and you’re used to it. “Well, too fucking bad, шлюха, you’re not allowed to come,” he spits, and your hips freeze in place.

“I didn’t say stop, did I? No, I didn’t, continue, шлюха,” he sneers, and you listen to the Soldat. You’re not sure how you’re going to stave off your orgasm, but you’ll do anything for him. You slowly begin to grind your hips back and forth on his boot again, trying to slow your breathing down, and Winter fucks your face sloppily. “Fuck, you want my cum, don’t you, кролик?” he questions, and you squeeze his leg tighter.

Winter pulls his cock out abruptly and pinches the base, staving off his release only for a few seconds. “I said, don’t you want my cum, шлюха?” he asks once again, and you nod. Saliva coats your mouth, and you can barely catch your breath. “I- I really want your cum, Master, please! Please give me your cum,” you plead to him with a ditzy look in your eyes. You wiggle your hips side to side just to give off the impression that you’re getting yourself off.

But you can’t fool the fooler. Nobody can.

“I’m going to give you all my cum, шлюха, and you’re going to take it all like a good girl,” he moans as he shoves his cock back into your mouth. Winter shoves himself deep inside your throat until you can’t take any more of his length. You swallow around his cock, and he moans loudly, swearing in Russian. The words roll off his tongue skillfully, and you feel yourself getting even wetter.

He grabs your head even tighter and bobs your skull up and down his cock a few more times before finally hitting his release. His balls tighten up, and a deep, throaty moan leaves his mouth in the best way ever. Hot, sticky ropes spurt down your throat before you can even register the way he throws his head back. Winter’s long hair spills on the sides of his head as his cum spills down your throat. You have no choice but to swallow, but it’s not like you want to spit his seed out anyways.

Winter lets out a deep moan that goes straight to your core, and his hand pats your head in a praising manner. “Good girl, such a good fucking girl,” he praises as he slowly pulls his sensitive cock out of your mouth. Your cunt flutters with sensitivity, and you want to come so badly, but you just can’t. The Soldat takes a few steps back, slipping his foot away from your aching pussy. You let out a whimper, and he smiles.

“I’m not done with you, маленький кролик,” he tells you, and your heart flutters. You’ve managed to ignore the building pressure in your bladder, but now it seems to come back stronger. “C- Can I go pee first, Master?” you politely ask him, still on your knees. Even that ache has returned, but it’s the least important thing as of now. He ignores your question as he works on the numerous straps on his battle uniform.

Skillful fingers take off the leather vest he wears, revealing a bulletproof protectant that saves him from certain dangers. “Get on the bed, кролик,” Winter orders as he continues to strip himself. You begin to stand up on your wobbly, scarred legs, but he tuts. “Uh uh, not like that,” he interjects, walking back to you. He pushes you back onto the floor, and you fall with a sob. “On your knees, because that’s what you deserve. Nothing more, шлюха,” he sneers, and you sniffle.

You slowly crawl to the bed. Each time your knees touch the ground, you burn up with both arousal and humiliation. And it’s not like the action is making your need to go to the bathroom any better. The abrupt movement makes the liquid slosh inside you, and you want to burst out in tears, begging Winter to just let you relieve yourself. Your hands have slight scars from your nails, and it reminds you of when your father would encourage you to do the monkey bars.

You’d always try to swing yourself to the end with all your might. But you never could do it. You’d fall down to the ground and leave the park wailing. The scars and blisters on your hand would make your parents so upset, but that never stopped you from wanting to go back and try again. Eventually, you got too old to try, and it would always upset you. Maybe one day you’ll be able to try again— one day.

You hear zippers unzipping and velcro cracking behind you as you get on the bed. The coolness of the sheets is so refreshing against your hot skin. It soothes you for a few seconds, but it eventually loses its worth. You turn around and face him with a sort of dumbfounded look on your face. He fucking loves it; Winter always does. He’s naked, fully naked, and even his signature tactical boots have been discarded.

If you squint, you could see the way your wetness shines on his boot. “Good girl, such as good little bunny,” he praises, and you can feel yourself get flustered. Winter climbs onto the bed, staring you dead in the eyes. He kneels in front of you with a wicked smirk, and he brings his flesh hand up to your throat. You let out a gasp as he squeezes your neck tightly before he leans in closer to you.

The Soldat’s face is just a mere few centimetres away from yours. You can feel each breath that he takes against your skin. His hard cock rests against your sticky chest, and he’s still hard as fuck. “Open your mouth, кролик,” he orders, and you instantly do so. You wait for his cock to be stuffed in your mouth once again, but it never comes. You watch as he puckers his lips up before spitting right by your mouth.

You choke in surprise as his saliva slowly drips into your mouth, landing on your sore tongue. You whimper at the feeling, and Winter has a proud smile on his face. He pulls his head away from yours, in the same manner your father would whenever he’d finish one of his masterpieces. “Swallow it all, кролик, I know you want to,” he orders in a sing-song voice.

You follow his demand obediently. You can’t lie; the sheer act of him spitting in your mouth and forcing you to swallow it makes you even wetter. You’d take anything he gives you. “You’re such a good girl, you know that right?” he questions, and your chest heaves. Winter’s cock twitches against you, and you so desperately want him inside you. But there’s nothing you want more than to go relieve yourself.

His metal hand comes up to your face, and you think he’s going to lovingly hold you. You absolutely adore it when he strokes your cheeks. The Soldat’s thumb touches the soft yet slightly sweaty skin of your face and moves back and forth. Chills run down your spine, and you smile into his touch. He suddenly pulls his hand away, and he strikes you roughly. You let out a cry as your skin stings and prickles from the hit.

He does it again and again until your tears soak his hand. Your cheek is practically numb from the pain. You can feel his cock leaking with cum, and you know that he’s going to fuck you, just like you want him to. “Did you forget your manners?” Winter harshly questions, and you quickly shake your head. “T- Thank you, Master,” you whisper to him, and he smiles.

“Master… Can I please go to the bathroom? Please, it hurts,” you beg to him, but he just shakes his head. “P- Please, Master? I’ll be a good girl, I promise!” you plead to him as your tears run down your face even quicker. He ignores your cries for relief, and he instead slams you onto the bed. Your mind is a mess as he combs on top of you, and the aches you have only get stronger.

The hand that was slapping some sense into you finds a new home on your stomach, right above your swollen bladder. He pushes down on your stomach slightly, and you kick your legs. “Shh, none of that, no, stop it,” he shushes, and you try your hardest to not let go right there and then. “Master knows what you need, okay? And right now, you need my cock, маленький кролик,” he tells you, and you sob.

The hand on your throat moves to his cock, and he grabs his thick base. The veins on the side throb with need, and in one thrust, he bottoms out inside you. You barely have the time to register what’s just happened. The painful stretch of his cock radiates throughout your core, and you dig your nails into the scarred skin of your palms. His tip nudges against your g-spot, and you coat his cock with your wetness.

Winter is buried inside you to the hilt, filling you up to the brim. His swollen, heavy balls rest against your ass, and you both try to get used to the connection. The painful stretch dulls down to an exquisite pleasure, and Winter loves the way your tight cunt gets used to his thick cock. He’s splitting you in two, but he simply does not care. His hand returns back to your throat, and this time, he squeezes the sides of your neck even tighter.

Winter pulls his cock out until his fat tip is the only thing resting inside of your pussy. He slams back into you roughly, and you let out a cry. Your jaw falls slack as the Soldat begins to fuck into your relentlessly. His balls slap against your ass, and your loud, short-lived moans fill the cell that you’ve grown to love. “Fucking hell, кролик, your pussy feels so good,” he growls, slamming into you even harder.

Your tits bounce with every movement he makes. The pleasure sears through your body as Winter hammers against your poor g-spot with each thrust he makes. “Master, please, I need to go really badly,” you beg to him as he continues to fuck you. He shakes his head in objection before pushing down on your stomach even harder. You let out a wail and try to squirm away, but you only worsen things for yourself.

“No, you don’t, кролик. The only thing you need is my cock,” the Soldat tells you, and you upsettingly toss your head back. “No, Master, please, I don’t wanna make a mess,” you reason with him, but he just doesn't seem to want to listen. “I know that, кролик, but you need to listen to me, okay? You don’t need to go; you just need me,” he growls lowly, and you can feel him pushing harder on your bladder.

“No- Wait, Master, please stop pushing on me,” you implore to him as a moan follows your words. Your silky, wet cunt hugs his cock as the tingly feeling in your bladder becomes stronger. You want to cross your legs and stop it from growing, but you can’t. Pressure builds up in your core, and you’re not sure if you’re going to come or if you’re going to make a mess and humiliate yourself.

“Let go, мой тупой ребенок, I know you want to so badly. You can make a mess, do it,” Winter urges, and you shake your head. “No, Master, please stop it,” you cry to him, but he only fucks you harder. One specific thrust hits your cervix, and you yell out in pain before even realizing what’s happened. Warmth trickles down your thighs and onto his cock. You let out a wail as humiliation blossoms from your soul.

Though there’s nobody else watching, you’re still embarrassed. And that wicked smirk on Winter’s face does nothing to help you out. The sound of it makes your back sweat, and you want the ground to open up and take you home. Your urine wets the sheets beneath you, and your tears wet your face. “God, look at you. You finally got what you wanted, and here you are, crying like a fucking brat. You’re so ungrateful. Do you even deserve my cum?” he questions with disgust on his tongue.

You struggle to nod, but you do it anyway. The last thing you need is to have your Master upset with you. “‘M sorry, Master, please forgive me,” you plead to him. You continue to relieve yourself, and he continues to fuck you despite the mess you’re making in his shaft. “Такой грязный, глупый малыш. Ты такой жалкий, ты же знаешь это, да?” he questions even though you only know one simple word of Russian. You moan loudly as you slowly stop making a mess and begin to feel your orgasm building up.

“Aw, are you gonna come, кролик?” Winter asks you in a condescending tone, one that makes you even wetter. The lewd sounds that come from your pussy as just as humiliating as what you’ve just done, but you don’t care. You’re too busy getting fucked stupid. “Fuck, I can’t wait to fill this pussy up with my cum; watch it leak out of you. You always do look prettier when you’re filled up with my cum,” he moans as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“Master, ‘m gonna c- come,” you whimper to him, laying in your own piss. “Go ahead, шлюха, come on my cock. You already made a mess on me twice, might as well do it for the third time,” Winter growls, moving the hand that lays on your stomach. He grabs your hips roughly and pulls you closer towards his cock. Hot flames lick at your abdomen as you hit your climax, seeing stars in your vision.

Your reality is warped as you can barely make out the look on Winter’s face. Darkness takes over your vision in the same manner as the clouds would take over the skies on those hot summer days. They would hide the pretty sun for a few minutes, and then they’d leave eventually. Your pussy clamps down on his cock tightly as you coat him with your juices, making him moan.

You wail loudly as you clench around him, making him groan. “Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” he asks without waiting for an answer. You nod as he fucks you through your orgasm, not even caring about how overstimulated you are. His cock slips in and out of you with ease and his thrusts begin to grow sloppy. “Tell me how much you want my cum,” he demands, fucking you even slower.

“I- I want your cum really badly, Master. I need it so badly; please fill me up with your cum!” you politely beg to you as you come down from your much-needed high. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up so nicely, кролик, you’re gonna beg me to fuck you again,” Winter husks as his balls tighten up. A string of Russian words leave his mouth, and you have to assume that it’s all foul language.

Warm, white ropes of cum paint your walls as he pushes deep inside your cunt while coming. Winter’s blue eyes squeeze shut, and you both moan at the feeling. He fills you up just like he promised, and you bite down on your lips. Everything has dried, and you feel disgusted, so you try to focus on the way his cum pumps inside you. His cock stays inside you, but he doesn’t soften at all, and you know what that means. Winter falls on top of your sticky chest with a sigh, and tears sting your eyes.

Though he says you need him, you wonder if that’s really true.

3K notes · View notes

yoonpobs · 4 years ago

Text

bad boy good thing xvi.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: jk and oc :(

words: 5, 820

summary: a series of drabbles where you’re confused and jungkook’s confusing

a/n:

at the end of the chap!!!

“Babe, you better close your lips,” Yena nudges your shoulders when the two of you approach the football field with treats of your own.

“I’m not … drooling,” you reply lamely, fingers clutching the bag of food and refreshments tightly in your grasp as if it would run away.

“I wasn’t talking about your mouth,” she smirks.

Your head snaps towards her in a flush, ears immediately turning red when she resorts to snickering at your scandalised expression. You thwack her on her shoulder, flustered at the cackles she’s releasing. The food in your hands remains unscathed, purely because you spent a good amount of time preparing it for the boys—knowing that they were entering an important season for their football games.

From where the two of you were walking from, you had a decent view of the football team sprawled across the field, likely resting from one of their many intensive practices. You weren’t concerned with anyone else, and given Jungkook’s flashy hair colour—it was only natural that your eyes immediately fell onto his figure. It also just so happened that Jungkook decided to take his break—shirtless.

You shake your head to snap out of your daydream, fully aware of the way that Yena shoots you a knowing smirk.

“Okay, shut up before you blow my cover,” you hiss.

“You’re telling me that when your face screams I want to lick the sweat of Jungkook’s pectorals—!”

You’re about to drop the food aside, fully ready to attack Yena who looks all too pleased with her teasing, but another voice interjects before you can do any real harm to your friend.

“Is Yena harassing you?”

Yena snaps her head to the source of the voice and immediately narrows her eyes at the smirking figure.

“Oh shut the fuck up, Min,” she snaps.

“Was I talking to you?” He rolls his eyes before turning over to give you a smile, “Hey, ____. Here to feed the dogs?”

You snort, casting a sideways glance to Yena who’s equal parts fuming and red—and you’re definitely sure that it wasn’t because of her apparent anger. The lingering glance that Yoongi rests on her figure with a fond smile tells you enough, and you hide the grin that threatens to appear on your face as you return a kind one to Yoongi.

“Spot on. You’re here to cover their practices?” You make small talk as the three of you make your way towards the football team, most of them too immersed in whatever Namjoon was saying to take note of your approaching figures.

He lets out a deep sigh before nodding, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“You wanted coverage for next months paper, didn’t you?” He teasingly accuses.

You duck your head in embarrassment, remembering the meeting you had with the student reporter union and your exact words. You did need an article written on the football team’s practices for publicity purposes, and you briefly remembered Yoongi and Yena bumping heads on multiple occasions on who was to cover it. Clearly, Yoongi won—or more appropriately, Yena surrendered due to his ‘irritating’ personality.

“I did,” you smile apologetically, “Hopefully it isn’t that bad.”

“All he does is complain,” Yena mutters under her breath.

Yoongi raises a brow with an amused smirk on his face.

“I would’ve been complaining less if I had someone accompanying me,” he says pointedly.

You briefly note the flush on Yena’s cheeks before she grumbles something incoherent under her breath, shoving a fist into Yoongi’s arm in retaliation as he snickers at her reaction. You smile to yourself, eyes turning fond when you realise that Yoongi doesn’t back away even as she bites. All he does is let her have her way, patiently sticking by her side while he placates her growls.

You reach the circle where the footballers were gathered as you quietly tiptoed your way towards the bleachers, setting the food down and taking them out so they could dig in right after they were done. You brought enough for the entire team—but you were still worried since they were male athletes who definitely had an appetite for victory and your sandwiches. You hoped it’d suffice.

Just as you’ve settled down, Jimin spots you when his head snaps up, offering you a wide grin along with nudges to Namjoon and Taehyung’s shoulder. The rest of the team follow the direction of his eyes, and you turn red at the sudden attention of all the men on you as you offer a meek wave, avoiding any real eye contact.

“You came!” Jimin hops towards you, immediately dragging you into a hug as he nuzzles his sweaty forehead into your neck.

You grimace and push him away, scrunching your face at the wetness that sticks to your skin at his contact.

“Ew, you stink,” you whine.

He rolls his eyes before he digs through the food, showing his true intentions on why he came over in the first place.

“And you are an angel,” he coos, pinching your cheeks while you smacked his hand away.

“How was practice?” You hum for the sake of conversation while you watch the boy scarf down your sandwiches like a starved man.

He looks up with stuffed cheeks, pausing in his chomps, “Brufal.”

You offer him a sympathetic smile before squeezing his shoulder.

“All in good time, right?”

He swallows, rolling his eyes in response.

“Said every optimist ever. I just want this season to be over so I can go back to pigging out.”

You snort but you don’t deny his statement. You watch him while he continues to munch on his meal. Something was fulfilling about watching him enjoy your preparations, and you were definitely the type to enjoy taking care of your friends. You were usually the friend that provided advice and comforted people whenever they were faced with a particularly difficult time, and you’ve heard on several occasions from both Jimin, Taehyung—and even Jungkook; that you somehow knew what to do, and say, whenever they were faced with a problem.

It’s nice, to see Jimin happy, and you note to visit more during their practices with food.

“You’re too nice, do you know?” A voice interjects.

You look up from Jimin to see Namjoon walking towards you, with Jungkook and Taehyung trailing behind him. You flush ever so slightly because you briefly remember the last time you saw Jungkook and what happened. It’s been busy for the both of you so you weren’t able to see him much on campus either.

“Stop saying that,” you scowl, “And eat up before Jimin shovels everything down this throat.”

You thrust a wrapped sandwich into his chest that he receives with a dimpled grin. Namjoon wraps a loose arm around your shoulder as thanks and you still grimace at the sweat that lingers on your skin—but you realise that it’s an inevitable part of the role you took, so you sigh and accept it.

“Let’s get married if we both don’t by 35,” Taehyung suggests the moment he’s handed a sandwich of his own as you raise a brow at his proposition.

“So I can make you sandwiches?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Sounds pretty misogynistic to me,” you snort, “Make your own damn sandwiches.”

“But they’re not the same,” he whines, “It’s your essence that makes it taste so much better!”

You laugh at his desperate explanation and the wiggle of his eyebrows at his insinuation. You’re thankful he doesn’t smother you with his sweat and only grants you a grateful mumble of appreciation before he’s joining his other brain cell on the bleachers, immediately bickering away about whatever topic they decided on for the day.

When Jungkook comes up for his turn, you can’t keep eye contact. Especially when he’s still in his shirtless glory while he looks at you with those eyes of his, paired with his cheeky grin. He knows exactly what he’s doing and you hate him for it.

“Where’s my sandwich?” He asks, propping himself right in front of you, leaving you no space to breathe or to move away from him.

“There,” you point to the bag rather than handing him one like you did with the rest, “Help yourself.”

Jungkook pouts, tilting his head to the side as he chases your expression to search for your eyes. You’re still avoiding his gaze, and you feel like you’re beginning to perspire at the way he’s blatant with his ogling. The two of you were in public, and your friends have sat a few metres away from you with the rest of his football team lingering nearby and somehow the idea of people seeing the two of you so close gives you anxiety.

“You’re not going to give me one?” He asks.

“You have perfectly usable hands,” you gesture, and you immediately regret it because when you turn to look at him—his arms flex under the ministration when he cages you in with his body.

You let out a yelp, head immediately darting to the side to see whether or not anyone else was paying attention. But your friends are still caught in their own conversation, except Yena who somehow has a sixth sense for your embarrassment—and shoots the two of you a sleazy wink before tonguing the inside of her cheek.

Jungkook catches this, and you’re mortified to see the way his eyebrow raises at Yena’s gesture.

“You gossiping about me to your friend?” He teases.

You know exactly what he’s referring to. You scowl in response, sticking your nose up while you glance in the other direction; away from his smirk.

“Gossiping entails that whatever I said was negative. So, do what you want with that information,” you shrug.

Jungkook tuts, shaking his head before he lets out an amused chuckle.

“Always so bratty,” he sighs, “That smart mouth of yours loves to run itself, hm?” The shift to a much huskier tone stuns you into silence because he’s suddenly much closer, more insinuative and daring with the way he leans his face closer to yours until you’re finding it hard to breathe.

“We’re in public, Jeon,” you hiss.

He snickers, “No one cares except for you.”

“I’m not about to give everyone a free show,” you saw pointedly.

Jungkook smirks, “Who said anything about a show? Can’t I just have you close to me without it meaning anything else?”

You freeze. You know Jungkook doesn’t mean it that way, but you suppose it’s the remnants of insecurity that lingers deep in the back of your mind that makes your heart drop ever so slightly. You know how he feels; how his words are meant to be a light jibe towards you. But your collateral mind can only ask, what if?

As if Jungkook’s picked up on the reason for your silence, or perhaps he was just that good at reading you and your body language, he frowns—immediately reaching a hand to your shoulder and squeezing it to get your attention.

“Hey,” he says softly, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You feel bad that he has to clarify himself when you yourself wanted to have faith in him—you did. It was more so that you lacked that same faith in yourself. To be that someone to Jungkook even when he’s made it clear to you about he felt. But you knew Jungkook to be the type that jumped from one interest to another like he was flipping through a brochure, and you didn’t mean it maliciously either.

Jungkook just liked a lot of things and could do well in a lot of things too once his mind is set. You were just terrified if that’s all you were to him. A phase that he’s got to experience in his life because it was interesting to him now.

“Sorry,” you whisper, eyes darting to your feet, “I … I know. It’s just—I’m just overthinking. It’s dumb.”

He frowns, “If it’s bothering you it’s not dumb.”

You sigh.

“No, it is,” you emphasise, balling your fist by your side as he looks at you attentively. You hate yourself a little more for being so unsure. “I know you didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that my mind just—it just thinks the worst of every situation. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook doesn’t seem to appreciate the way you’re continuously apologising or avoiding his gaze, so he takes it up himself to reach out his hands to tilt your chin upwards so that you’re looking at him. He’s always loved looking at you, whether you were studying, driving, or even just daydreaming—he loved your eyes and he’d spend most of his days just staring at you.

“I want you. I always want you,” he says and it both takes your breath away and makes your heart pound rapidly against your ribcage, “Everything that I do with you means the world to me. You mean the world to me and I don’t want to fuck this up. I fucked up once and I—I don’t want to mess this up either. So please, if you’re bothered—tell me. I want to know. I want to ease any of your worries now because I wasn’t able to do that before.”

Jungkook speaks so softly that you may have missed the sincerity and desperation laced in his tone, the hushed utterance of his truth that only you were meant to hear. He looks at you so tenderly, so authentically that you feel your heart constrict both in want and guilt. The reassuring grasp of one hand on your hip while the other rests under your chin forces you to acknowledge his sincerity—his want, and most importantly; him.

He notices it before you do, and his thumb wipes under your eyes when you feel the first teardrop. Your face morphs into a wide-eyed expression when you quickly swipe under your eyes to erase the evidence of your heart worn on your face. But Jungkook doesn’t allow you to get far, and he uses his strength to stop your wrists—forcing you to peer up at him with red-rimmed and freshly-swollen eyes.

“Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs.

“Jungkook—” you protest, pushing his hands away but it only makes him clutch you tighter.

“Don’t,” he says firmly, “It’s okay. Just cry if you have to.”

Your face crumbles because Jungkook can be both strict but earnest at the same time. It was conflicting for you not because you didn’t know how you felt but because you cared too much about the prying eyes of others. Even now, when Jungkook only looks at you—your mind strays to the people that talk, to the people that stare and wonder. And you hate it.

“We’re in public, Jungkook,” you say softly through a shaky breath.

You put some distance between the two of you by taking a step back, and Jungkook notices. Of course, he does, especially when space he once felt warmth turns cold. He frowns because he would rather hold you close—show the world and everyone that he loved you. But your eyes stray away, darting everywhere but his face.

“I don’t care,” he huffs, “I want you.”

And no matter how many times he says it, the pessimistic side of you nags at your heart to keep it safe. To keep things under wraps so that you could avoid wandering or curious gaze; especially when anyone could see or say anything.

“I know,” you tell him.

Jungkook scoffs and your eyes shoot up when you realise that Jungkook’s annoyed. The tick in his jaw tells you enough, especially when he takes a step back—placing that distance between the two of you. It sucks when you’re on the receiving end of such coldness and you can’t imagine how Jungkook felt when you pushed him away.

“Do you?” He exasperates, “I’m patient. I am. I’ll wait for you; I told you that and I meant it,” he frowns, “But I just want to hold you. I wanted this for the longest of times and I don’t care where we are in this world because that’ll never make me stop wanting you. I want you when we’re apart, I want you when we’re together and I want you now. When will that be enough?”

Jungkook takes your breath away again, but for different reasons. This time, he sounds tired—desperate, almost. He rubs his hands across his face in frustration and you can tell he’s trying his best to level his breathing. You stand there silent, lips pursed as you mull over his words.

“It is enough,” you tell him, eyes peering up on your own; but this time Jungkook isn’t looking at you and it makes your heart clench. His eyebrows are furrowed and the only thing you can catch a glimpse of is the side of his face. “I just … people talk, Jungkook. I know you’re used to that but I’m not. I don’t like it when people are in my business.”

He scoffs, “And now it’s other people that are standing in between us?” Your eyes narrow at him but the clench of his jaw tells you that he’s not stepping down either, “I am, I’m used to people talking about me whether it be good or bad. And I know you don’t like it—I know,” he exasperates, “But when will we just be enough of a reason for you to take that leap of faith?”

“It’s not that easy—”

“Of course it isn’t!” He exclaims, “I’m not saying it is. I know I fucked up and it made things more complicated than they should be but I’m here now and I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to wait for you because I want to prove myself to you. But if all it takes is just people’s words to get in between us then I don’t know if it even matters anymore.”

You recoil at his words, eyes widening when he finally looks down at you. Jungkook doesn’t look angry. He looks tired, and he sounds tired. Your heart hurts because you don’t know how he feels when all this while you were within arms reaches but not quite. You had the reassurance from Jungkook and your friends that he wanted you—but somehow you couldn’t quite believe it. Was it your fault that you felt this way? Why did you feel this way?

“Jungkook …” you reach out to grab his arm, and he doesn’t push you away. But he doesn’t make an effort to hold your hand like he usually would and it made your stomach drop.

“I love you,” he whispers, “I can shout it on rooftops and announce it to the world if that’ll make you believe me. But when will my love be enough?”

“I want you too, Jungkook,” you reply, squeezing his arm tighter.

“Do you?” He sighs, “It’s hard for me too,” he says as his eyes flutter shut, “I can wait. But it hurts. It hurts because if you really wanted me then that’s all that should matter.”

“Wait, Jungkook—” you reach out to him when he pulls away from you and you feel your heart drop when he doesn’t look at you.

Maybe it was an act of desperation, or your mind telling you to not lose a good thing due to your rumination—but you use all the strength you have to tug him back to you because you couldn’t have Jungkook walk away from you. Not now, when your heart tells you to stop being afraid, to stop being stubborn.

“I need—” he begins with a sigh, but your eyebrows are furrowed in determination when you loop your arms around his neck to tug him down to your level.

And you kiss him.

You think it’s the first time that you’ve initiated a kiss, even when the two of you were messing around. It’d always been Jungkook who took the first step, an exception was your last interaction at your apartment. But if you looked harder, even through the hurt, Jungkook reached out first. Granted, it was never in the way that you wanted—but he always took the first leap, for you and the both of you.

When you kiss him, you feel him freeze under your hold, even when you press your lips harder against his. You don’t think about the consequences, you don’t think about your friends who are likely witnessing your first public display of affection with Jungkook, and you definitely don’t think about the way that the rest of his football teammates gawk at the two of you.

It feels scary—but right. And that’s all that should’ve mattered.

When you pull away, you’re breathing heavy, peering your eyes up to Jungkook who’s stunned to silence with a gape in his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt.

You briefly see from the corner of your eye the way that Yena is squeezing Yoongi’s arm who looks as surprised as the boy in front of you. You even see Namjoon, with a hint of a smile on his face even as he looks away. Your heart clenches in guilt, but you’ve spent far too long hurting yourself and Jungkook.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you into this,” Jungkook whispers, brushing a thumb over your cheek.

“You … you didn’t,” you assure him with a small smile before you nibble on your lips. “You’re right. This—us—it should’ve been enough for me.” You tell him as he observes you with gentle eyes, “And it is. It’s always been but I’ve always been afraid and honestly? I still am. I’m terrified because this is new for me and I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“I know,” he murmurs, pulling you closer as your arms still rest loosely around his neck, “I’m scared too. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

You turn a pretty shade of red when you duck your head to avoid his fond gaze. He chuckles when you do so, endeared by your embarrassment even if you were the one that reached out first—to proclaim your affection with your kiss.

But some moments don’t last forever, and they’re not meant to. So when a third party interjects and snaps you out of your little bubble with Jungkook, you freeze.

“You sure she isn’t a two-timer, Jeon?” Jeonghan, who you briefly remember seeing at some of the football games, interjects with a raised brow as he leans on the railings of the bleachers.

You still, immediately loosening your grip around Jungkook’s neck and he realises your hesitancy—sees the fear that erupts just when you found the courage to take that first step.

“What?” You whisper.

Jungkook shoots his teammate a blazing glare that you don’t catch because you’re too busy avoiding his gaze, the attention causing the heat to rise on your cheeks and the sweat to accumulate by your hairline and on your body.

“Dude—it’s not worth it,” he snorts, “What next? She sleeps her way through the entire team?”

Your face drops, and Jungkook finally lets go of you. Your eyes widen because you think for a second that he believes his teammate, that Jeonghan has managed to somehow lure his way into the depths of Jungkook’s mind to plant that seed of doubt within his already muddled mind.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Jungkook asks with a menacing glare.

You’re frozen, but Namjoon is quickly at your side—concern etched on his face after Yena noticed the tension arising from your corner. Jimin and Taehyung are right behind him, observing the situation as they see Jungkook’s chest heaving when he stares his teammate down.

“I’m just saying,” Jeonghan shrugs, shooting you a knowing glance, “Wasn’t she fucking captain?”

“Jeonghan,” Namjoon intervenes, voice stern.

“What?” He raises his hand in defence, “Weren’t you about to ask her out?”

You hate this. You hate the attention and hate how he speaks about you as if you weren’t standing there—mortified. You especially hate the way that the rest of the team filters where the tension begins to escalate. They’re curious, for sure—at how their captain and their best player is suddenly caught in this dilemma with Jeonghan as the instigator.

“That has nothing to do with you,” Namjoon narrows his eyes at him in response.

Jeonghan snorts, “Um. It kind of does. You bailed on us for her,” Jeonghan states pointedly, “And now she’s locking lips with the golden boy here. She played you, man.”

Before Namjoon can respond, Jungkook takes a threatening step towards Jeonghan as he basically towers over him. Your hair stands on your arms as you can more or less tell where this is going, especially with the way that Jungkook’s fists clench by his sides.

“Jungkook—” you squeak, hands reaching out to rest on his shoulder.

You snap out of it, purely because you know that Jungkook’s pissed. His ears are red and his jaw is clenched, and you don’t want to know what’ll happen if you remained stagnant any longer.

“Stay out of this,” he snaps.

You blink, and even Namjoon looks taken aback. Jimin has concern written all over his features as he steps forward, likely attempting to mitigate the situation.

“Jungkook, don’t be stupid,” Jimin berates.

Jungkook turns around and all you see behind his usual doe-eyed gaze is now a fire that burns and is threatening to blaze anything in its way. And right now, Jungkook’s glaring at Jimin like he’s a rock in his journey.

“You’re going to let him say that shit about her?” Jungkook snaps.

“What’s fighting him going to do?” Jimin exasperates, eyebrows furrowed, “Don’t dig yourself a deeper hole and calm the fuck down. We have a game in two weeks and starting something now won’t do any of us good.” He raises his voice towards the end as he glares at every single person who has so happened to crowd around the lot of you to see what was happening, “Did you not hear what I said? Mind your own fucking business!”

The rest of the team murmurs amongst themselves, not before shooting you a disparaging glance that makes you feel uneasy. You look away because that’s the best you could do, fingers resting limply by your sides while you shift behind Jimin as if he was able to protect you from the wandering stares.

It was your exact fear, and somehow fate seems to hate you with the way your dream-like state with Jungkook is immediately ruined with your fears being proven.

Taehyung and Yena are by your side, looking at you with worry as you avoid their gaze. Your mind is louder, though you catch the lecture that Jungkook’s getting from Jimin for almost fighting Jeonghan. Even if nothing happened—the indents of Jungkook’s fingernails on his palm proves enough of what could happen if it weren’t for Jimin, or Namjoon, intervening.

“God, he’s such a fucking asshole,” Yena grumbles, pulling you to her side as she rubs your shoulder soothingly.

You say nothing, and you briefly see Yoongi walking over; offering you an apologetic glance that you mildly acknowledge.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks softly.

You sigh, fiddling with your fingers as you look over your shoulders to see Jungkook already staring at you.

“I want to be,” you reply, “But I fucked things up.”

Yena frowns, “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true,” you exasperate, “If I hadn’t led Namjoon on or—if I just didn’t … if I just didn’t feel the way I did for Jungkook then—”

“And then what?” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your rambling as you turn around to see him furrowing his brows at you.

“Jungkook—” you reach out to him, again. He only flinches in response.

“If you didn’t feel the way you did for me and then what?” He whispers voice frustrated, “Then you’d get to protect yourself?”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung says sternly, eyes warning.

He pays him no mind, however, as you continue to blink up at him.

“That’s not what I meant,” you defend.

“What do you mean, then?” Jungkook snaps, “Because five minutes ago we had this exact same conversation—and then you kissed me—and now it’s like we’re back to square one. So what do you actually mean because I can’t keep trying to come up with my own answers!”

“That’s what I mean, Jungkook!” you frown, gesturing your arms wildly towards the team who’s all grouped together a good distance from where you were, “That. People talking. God, I want you too but I can’t live with the constant hypotheticals of people wondering how the fuck you could ever be with someone that apparently slept with your captain.”

“I don’t care about what people say!” He says vehemently, stepping closer to you.

The rest of your friends observe silently as they all exchange looks, shifting away to give you some privacy. You were so confused, and tired—and you didn’t even care if you were in public anymore and that people could see the argument brewing between you and Jungkook.

“I know you don’t,” you snap, “But not everything is about how you feel, Jungkook. You can live your life because everyone’s going to be pointing figures at me. Not you. It’s because it’s my name that’s being thrown around like I’m some—like I’m some whore who can’t keep her legs closed and—”

“Don’t fucking say that,” Jungkook snarls.

“—it’s what people are saying!” You cry, “Jungkook. Just a month ago you were with Jennie and I was somehow with Namjoon. What … what will people think?”

“So that’s what you’re afraid of?” He laughs dryly.

“What—?”

“You’re afraid because of what other people may think?” He repeats your words back to you, standing closer as you shift back, eyes avoiding his heavy gaze.

“I’m scared of a lot of things, Jungkook,” you say softly.

“I want to be there for you,” he tells you, voice softer than the previous harsh tone he took, “Me risking my position on this team just now? Yeah, that’s what I would do to protect you. I know people will talk and I know it sucks because your name is thrown in the loop—but you have me. You have Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung and Yena. We all would do anything to protect you so why are you still so afraid?”

Jungkook’s beginning to sound more desperate, especially with the way he’s somehow clutching on your elbows as if you’d slip away.

“I”—what were you afraid of? You seemed to have all the answers earlier, and even after Jungkook’s pleas, you find yourself hesitating. The anxiety of people looking at the two of you and wondering how the hell could it work—or whether or not you were set on breaking Jungkook’s heart; and vice versa. You remember the names of people who’s ever questioned your friendship and if there was something more. You remember Sana, harmlessly saying that it seemed impossible for the two of you to be together.

The entire time, fear plagues your mind, and you can’t give Jungkook an answer because it’s more than just people. It was you. It was you being terrified that you weren’t enough and that he’d see how imperfect you were compared to the girl he thinks he loves. You weren’t the smart, independent girl that participated in every club on campus. You were … small. You were fragile and weak, and insecure.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he says defeatedly, resting his forehead on the crown of your head.

Your heart drops.

“Please don’t say that,” you croak.

You feel the lump in your throat grow, and when you look up—you see a pained expression painting Jungkook’s face.

“I don’t want to say that,” he whispers right before he reaches up to clutch your face in his hands, “But I think I need to.”

“You don’t!” You cry, your own arms reaching out to clutch at the collar of the fresh shirt he’s managed to throw on.

“This doesn’t change the fact that I love you,” he reminds you gently.

You hate that you’re crying. The hot, wet tears that flow down your cheeks is a reminder of your vulnerability. Of how much control Jungkook has over your feelings.

“Why does it sound like you’re breaking up with me,” you cry.

He smiles, soft and half-hearted as he pulls you into a hug.

“We aren’t together,” he reminds you. Your heart clenches because you could’ve been.

“I …” you want to say that you could be. You want to tell him that you want him. And you do. But your mouth doesn’t move when all you can hear is sobs escaping you.

“Think about it, okay?” He murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face so that you wouldn’t end up crying all over the strands of hair uncomfortably, “If you … if you’re still afraid. That’s okay. We can be friends, and I can pretend like this never happened. I’ll always respect your decision.”

“But …”

He shushes you gently, wiping at your tears.

“I told you. I’ll wait for you—but I can only do that if you want me to,” he says sadly, “I love you. I do. I spent the past seven years of my life loving you, but I need to know if you feel the same.”

“I do!” You immediately respond, eyes wide.

He shakes his head with a small laugh, “You may love me. But love isn’t always enough.”

His words are heartbreaking, and you feel yourself crumble all over again. But your mind isn’t clear and you’re overwhelmed with emotion. Jungkook’s still looking at you gently like he always had. But it seems different.

“Let me take you home first, yeah?” He whispers.

You stop his movements when he reaches out to pick at your belongings as you grab a hold of his hand.

He turns to look at you with a raised brow and you notice how tired and sunken his eyes look. Your heart clenches for the millionth time and you just want to—

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s funny that you’re the one asking that question. When weeks ago it was him in that same position. You realise how vulnerable Jungkook must’ve felt when he posed you with the same question because you feel the exact same. You feel like your heart is on the floor, exposed to everyone as they examine the ins and outs of your feelings.

Jungkook looks at you softly, before pulling you to his chest and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

And like always, Jungkook can’t say no to you.

a/n:

hi babes!!!! new chapter is up and oc and jk are :-(

im sorry for the angst!!!!! but things aren't always great between the two 🥺

i hope you enjoyed this chapter even tho yall may be cursing at me rn 🤣 but i do hope that you see oc's internal struggles with accepting everything and pursuing a potential relationship w jk despite her 'obvious' feelings towards him

as always, let me know what you think in my asks!!! love you all - and have a lovely day ahead of you ❤️

#bad boy good thing #bbgt #bts #bts fics #bts series #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook series

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writing-wh0re · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I found prompts are open,

I was able to come with a lot, if you could do all i will greatly appreciate it, if just one or two i will still highly appreciate it dear 😊😊😘😘 it can be both fluff?smut for all prompts specified

“Are you hurt?”

“Did he do this?”

“I’m fucking crazy about you.”

Sebastian Stan

“You’re fucking mine.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Stop playing with me.”

Bucky Barnes

“You think it’s funny to tease me?”

“On the bed, now.”

“You’ve got to be quiet.”

Peter Parker

All writings will be #writing-wh0re-requests.

Okay this has three different blurbs inside it - Sorry if it’s a lot to read, but I hope you enjoy it!

REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

Word Count: 2,103k

Warnings for all three blurbs: Smut 18+, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Intercourse, Both Male and Female Recieving Oral, Explicit Language, Slight Videotaping of Sex(?).

*Please note! Peter Parker is 18+ in this blurb!*

“You think it’s funny to tease me?”

“On the bed, now.”

“You’ve got to be quiet.”

Peter Parker - is 18+ in this blurb.

“You didn’t have to drop me.” I groan as Peter and I walk through the avengers compound.

“That’s not on me, you knew you had to stick the landing.”

“Stop bickering, you’re worse than Tony and Pepper.” Happy complains as I roll my eyes.

Walking through the compound, I make it to my bedroom, immediately walking into the ensuite as I jump slightly, a voice startling me.

“Room for one more?” A smirk floods my face as I spin, facing Peter.

“Always.”

I turn the shower on, the warm water flowing through the pipes as I unzip my suit, Peter taking off his as my eyes wander up and down his body. Peter walks up to me, his hand cupping my face as our lips brush against each other. “You’re so gorgeous.” I smile as our lips lock, moving in perfect sync as he walks me backwards into the shower, not breaking our kiss. I moan against his mouth as the warm water flows down my back. I run my hands down Peter’s bare chest as I gasp my hand brushing against his hard dick.

Peter chuckles against my lips as I take his cock in my hand, pumping my hand up and down as he cages me between him and the cold shower wall. I continue to play with him as he moans into my mouth. I abruptly stop earning a groan as I duck out of his embrace, starting to lather my body in soap as Peter tuts, tongue in cheek. I feel his hand grip my ass tight, his breath fanning against my neck.

“You think it’s funny to tease me?” I shrug as I wash my body, Peter shaking his head as he watches the bubbles run off my skin.

“On the bed, now.”

Without hesitation I follow his demand, a trail of wet footprints behind me as I fall onto my bed, my comforter beginning to soak from the water as Peter shuts the water off slowly walking into the room as he smirks.

“Such a good girl.” I whimper, rubbing my thighs together as Peter gets on top of me, parting my thighs to lean between them, kissing his way up my body as he sucks on my nipple a gasp filling the air as he smirks, swapping to the other side was I run my fingers through his hair. I pull him up to me, kissing him as he breaks away, placing one leg against his chest, keeping the other hooked around his waist as he slides into me.

“Fuck.” I hiss as he stretches me. He moves his hips as our skin slaps together Peter’s gasps and low soft moans falling from his parted lips as my moans flood the room.

I arch my back as he keeps his pace, moving both my legs to be against his chest to get deeper inside of me.

“Peter.” I cry out as he covers my mouth.

“You’ve got to be quiet.”

I meekly nod as I move my hips up to meet Peter’s thrusts as I moan against his hand.

“Just like that.”

Peter removes his hand as he rubs my clit, my walls tightening around him as he hisses, looking down at where our bodies meet, watching himself slide in and out.

“I’m going to cum.”

“Oh, me too.”

My body twitches, flooding with pleasure as Peter drops my legs to his hips, speeding up his thrusts as the sensitivity shocks through my body. I watch as Peter throws his head back, moaning loud as he cums inside me. Both of us panting as he falls beside me, pulling me to his side as I smile.

“Maybe I should tease you more often.” Peter chuckles as he kisses the side of my bed, keeping me wrapped in his arms.

---

“You’re fucking mine.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Stop playing with me.”

Bucky Barnes

I sway my hips to the music, dancing amongst a few of the avengers and a few random people as the music flows through my body. Nat and I sing the lyrics to each other, our bodies bumping together as I feel hands on my hips, the person's body heat mixing with mine as I turn and look back, a smirk covering my face.

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble.”

“I’ve fought Buck before, plus I know you enjoy teasing him.” I roll my eyes at Steve’s words as Nat gives me a questioning look as I smirk. Our bodies move together as I hear him chuckle behind me.

“We have his attention.” My eyes wander around the crowd, landing on him. His jaw tense and knuckles white around the glass he holds. He empties the glass, making his way through the bodies. I feel Steve’s hands leave my hips, his body disappearing from mine.

Bucky spins my body into his roughly, his mouth brushing against my ear.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” My breath hitches as he spanks my ass.

“It was Steve’s idea.”

Bucky chuckles. “Follow me.”

I follow behind him, making our way through the bodies as Bucky presses the button for the elevator. Once inside, Bucky stops it, pushing me against the wall.

“You’re fucking mine.”

Our lips attach, fighting against one another.

“Friday, cut the cam-”

“Keep the camera’s on Friday.” Bucky contradicts as I feel heat hit my cheeks. I kiss his neck as I start to unbutton his shirt, kissing down his body as I rest on my knees. I unbuckle his belt, unbuttoning his pants as his dick springs free.

I instantly attach my mouth to the head of his cock, swirling my tongue around as a low breath falls from his lips. His eyes fixate on my mouth as I bob my head up and down, I add my hand to the end of my lips stroking what I can’t fit as I continue to swirl my tongue around the sides of his cock. I take him out of my mouth, licking from the base to the tip as Bucky sucks in a deep breath.

“Stop playing with me.” I giggle softly, licking my lips to take him into my mouth again as he pulls my hair, my mouth falling open wide as he slowly thrusts in and out. My eyes water slightly as a gag falls around him. Bucky stops his thrusts as he pulls me up, lips locking with mine as I moan against his mouth.

Bucky’s hands pull my dress up around my hips as he slides my panties to the side, I hook one leg around his hip as he picks me up, placing me against the wall a little tighter as he slides into me.

“Oh god.”

Bucky picks up his thrusts, my back hitting against the wall as I tangle my fingers in his hair, our foreheads resting against each other.

“You feel so good.”

I tilt my head back, my lips parted as his lips move on my neck sucking on the soft skin leaving his mark as I tug on his hair.

“Who owns this pussy?”

I whimper as he slows his thrusts awaiting my answer.

“Y-you.” I gasp as he slowly picks his thrusts back up.

“Who?”

“Bucky Barnes, fuck.”

Bucky smirks at my response as he thrusts into me fast and deep as he covers my mouth, muffling my loud moans.

“You’re close, aren’t you baby?” I nod against his hand as he chuckles. He moves his hand from my mouth, slipping it between where our bodies meet, rubbing my clit as I bite my lip. I pull him closer to me as my legs shake, electricity taking over my body as he kisses me. Bucky continues to thrust into me, my walls fluttering around him as the sensitivity causes my breath to hitch.

“Holy fuck.”

I feel him twitch as he buries his face in my neck groaning as he pulls out of me, shuffling his clothes back on as I fix myself. Before Bucky presses the elevator button, he pushes me against the wall kissing me with both hands on my face as I smile into the kiss.

Bucky presses the elevator button allowing it to move again as it starts to go down, I raise my eyebrow not sure as to why it’s not going up to the rooms as the doors ‘ding’ open.

“Of course, it's you two.” Tony scoffs as I feel heat hit my cheeks, Bucky pulling me behind him as the avengers chuckle at our situation.

----

“Are you hurt?”

“Did he do this?”

“I’m fucking crazy about you.”

Sebastian Stan - Y/C/N - Your Character’s Name. (You’re both actors)

“Okay, take two.” Anthony Russo says as I tilt my head from side to side to stretch the muscle. “In this take, Y/n and Sebastian, Bucky and Y/C/N are realising that Y/C/N is fighting on the wrong side and she joins Bucky on Steve’s side.”

“Got it.” I smile as Sebastian nods in agreement.

“Action!” Joe Russo yells Sebastian puts me against the wall as I grunt.

“Why are you fighting for him?”

“You act like I had a choice!” I scream as I shove Sebastian backwards, I run past him as he grabs my waist slamming me down on the ‘ground’ as my back hits the foam mattress.

“Did he do this? Did he fill your head with lies?” I wiggle under his body as he holds my shoulders, attempting to keep me still.

“Tony didn’t do anything. Steve told me you didn’t want me.” I spit as Sebastian lets me go.

“Cut!” The russo’s yell as Sebastian helps me up. “Okay, we will go for lunch and get back to this after, it's great so far.” Joe compliments.

“Are you hurt?” I shake my head as Seb sighs in relief. “I slammed you pretty hard onto that mattress.” he chuckles.

“I know, but it’s all good, nothing I'm not used to.” I smile as Seb kisses my head.

“Follow me, I want something to eat.” I grab a hold of Seb’s awaiting hand as we walk to his dressing room, I raise my eyebrow a smirk flooding my face as I chuckle.

“You’re going to eat me?”

Sebastian just nods as he closes the dressing room door.

“Strip.” he demands as I smile, slowly stripping off my clothing as Sebastian takes off his. “No panties? Baby girl, you’re making this too easy for daddy.” I bite my lip as Seb picks me up, placing me on the make up table. He drops to his knees in front of my dripping core as he looks up at me chuckling. “Needy little thing, already dripping for me.” I meekly nod as he kisses my mound.

“Please.” I beg as he drags his tongue from my opening to my clit, sucking on my sensitive bud as I run my fingers through his hair. “Fuck.” I tug on his hair as he wraps his arms around my thighs, pulling me closer against his mouth as he continues to lick.

“Stay quiet baby.” I bite my lip to muffle my moans as my legs lightly twitch, Seb moaning against me as I lock eyes with him. “I’m close.” I whisper as he stops, kissing back up my body as he shuffles his boxer briefs down.

I wrap my legs around his waist to help guide him inside me as we moan. “God you’re big.”

“So fucking tight.” I wrap my arms around his neck holding him closer as he thrusts into me, our body’s working together, my boobs brushing against his toned chest.

“I’m fucking crazy about you.” I smile, kissing Sebastian as my stomach fills with butterflies, my walls contracting around his hard cock.

“I’m crazy about you.” I kiss and bite his neck, moving my hips to meet his thrusts as he brushes against my g spot. “I’m close.” I whimper as he sucks my sweet spot, my legs starting to tremble as he continues to thrust into me deep and hard.

“Come for me baby.”

A whimper falls from my parted lips as my legs tremble, electricity shooting through my body as I cum around his cock earning a grunt from Sebastian as he cums inside me.

“Lunch on set!” A voice hollars as a knock lands on the door.

Our chests rise and fall as we both get dressed.

“Guess it’s my turn to eat something.” I laugh, winking at Sebastian as I walk out of his dressing room.

496 notes · View notes

mxvladdy · 4 years ago

Note

What do you think would happen if MC (in an attempt to keep it away from him) tucked Goldie under their boob?

[A bra is the best wallet but underneath even a C-cup boob is damn near Fort Knox (or the tower of London, I.e. Impenatrable fortresses)]

lmaooo. Let’s us gather round and pray for Mammon’s remaining sanity. What little remands. The himbo never saw it coming. I’m weak and got a little spicy at the end, apologies if that’s not what you wanted my heart was thirsty for ONE greed man;.;

A/N I originally called this work Tiity prison bc I have a sense of humor lol.

Hope ya like!

To say he is conflicted is an understatement. Depending on when and where you do the titty lockdown will change how he reacts.

If it's at school, he is a mess. I’m talking about the works. He’s red in the face, can’t focus, and sweating the whole rest of the school day. He is definitely torn between fighting his goldie withdrawals and making a pass at your chest.

He won’t do the latter, as much as he threatens it. He may be scummy but he has a code of conduct (most of the time). You get a kick out of watching him try not to stare at your chest and getting smacked by Lucifer when caught.

If it’s on Lucifer’s orders to keep his card away from him he’ll have a bit more control but will bitch the WHOLE day. Honestly, you might give it back just to shut him up.

He won’t outright grab your chest or physically try to snatch it. He’ll try to be sneaky about it. Dropping stuff and making you bend over to grab it. “I swear I ain’t try nothin’”. Right.

If desperate enough he’ll just downright pick you up off your feet and jiggle you like a piggy bank. Like I said, he has a code of conduct. It’s just kinda flexible sometimes.

“C-come on! Give ‘er back.” Mammon pleads, pulling off his classic bagger’s pout. Good thing you were immune. His toned arms cage you in, your back resting on one of the school’s marble walls. “How am I going to buy lunch?”

“I made you lunch.” You laugh. Ducking under his arms you make your way to the dining hall ignoring his flustered shouts. He’ll follow soon enough. The promise of your cooking and potentially nabbing goldie back was too great for him to ignore. Sure enough, he slinks in a few minutes after you. His shades now out and perched on his nose. Even hidden under the tinted glasses, you could see his flushed cheeks and darting eyes. “Better eat now, Beel is going to join us today.” You say around a mouthful of food. He whines but forces himself to focus on his quickly cooling food.

He follows you even closer than before after lunch, barely a hair’s breadth from your back. His clever fingers pinching and pulling at the bottom of your shirt in the crowded hallway. “Please~” He whimpers through his teeth after your swat his hands away again. “I swear I won’t use her.”

You plop down at your desk. “If you’re not going to use her, then she is safe where she is.” You stick your tongue out and give the boob hiding goldie a lovely squeeze. Mammon groans as if stabbed, teeth bared and fangs growing in a mix of frustration and want. “Babe come on. Ya’ killing me.” His eyes are glued to where your hand rests.

Before you can respond a leather-clad hand smacks Mammon across the back of his head. Mammon yips in fright. “I will kill you first if you don’t keep your eyes up at the board.” The cold warning from Lucifer was enough to shut you both up for the rest of the class. You watch him disappear when the bell chimes. His next period was across campus while you were stuck here for another hour. Your phone buzzes the moment his designer boots disappear out the door.

Pretty Boy: what did you do to Mammon?

You: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

You catch Asmo’s eye from his seat a few rows back from you. He winks at you, thumbs flying across his lit screen.

Pretty Boy: Bull- tell me your secrets. I haven’t seen him that flustered in eons, not since Helen paid a visit.

You: Got “asked” by Lucifer to keep Goldie away from Mammon for the day. A limited edition car he wants just got released. Luci is still paying off Mammon’s last shopping spree, so he’s on ice till tomorrow afternoon.

Pretty Boy: Ouch- you not telling him where it is?

You: Oh no. He knows exactly where it is. He is just too nervous to go for it.

You hear Asmo’s scandalous gasp behind you earning you both a glare from the professor. You bite your tongue to hide a chuckle. The professor turns with a huff, and Asmo starts up all over again.

Pretty Boy: Is it in your pants! Can I take a look ;*

You: No and No.

Pretty Boy: Ah- he was always a chest man. Good luck with that, he can hold out for only so long :)

What does that mean? You whip your head around waiting for an explanation text. Asmo has the gall to ignore you, busy reapplying his lip gloss. Even if he wasn’t looking at you, you knew that impish smile was for you. Turning back around in your seat you shiver, now you weren’t sure if you should be scared or excited.

The rest of the day passes quietly. Too quietly. It gives you the jitters. Every corner of the school could be a potential hiding spot for one conniving demon. You weren’t expecting him to attack you, not outright. Yet, you were expecting some sort of retaliation. The last bell of the day came sooner than you expected and it was time for afterschool activities. Packing your bag you wave off Beel and Satan, assuring them you would be fine to walk to the music and arts wing by yourself. They had their own clubs to get to anyway.

Making your way to your activity you feel the hair on the back of your neck began to rise. Something wasn’t sitting right with you. You look up and around. No one was in the corridors, not even a stray teacher rushing to the breakroom. Odd. You peak over your shoulder and frown. Even the air was still. Chalking it up to a probably very haunted school, you pick up the pace. Even if you didn’t believe in the ghost stories like Luke, it was best to just never find out. No matter what hallway you took or how fast you walked the feeling of being watched only intensified. Your flight or fight instinct kicked in.

Who could you call if you need help? Where in the hells was Mam- was that your pencil case? You skid to a halt bemused. There, in the middle of the floor was your favorite case. The calico kitty design stares up at you innocently from the floor. You open your bag to double-check. You could have sworn you had thrown it in there after last period. Did it fall out? Had you taken this path before? You approached it cautiously, bending down to grab it.

Strong arms wrap around your waist locking around you like a spring trap. They lift you up and up and up. It was so sudden you could do nothing but squeak in surprise, pencil case clutched tightly to your chest. Were you really going to die here? Caught in such a childish trap...wait. “Seriously Mammon!” The fear disappears, replaced now with exasperation. He grunts ignoring your words to shake you slightly. You yelp feeling goldie and your bra shift. “Oh, my Gods. Mammon! I know you can do better than this.”

“Shut up! I’m desperate.”

Unbelievable. "That's the best you got? Really, I’m kinda insulted." Mammon stops shaking you, his arms loosening enough for you to turn around to face him. He looks up at you batting his long lashes. “Put me down.” It wasn’t a pact order, but firm. He pouts but sets you back on the ground gently. Not before giving you a hearty squeeze. You catch his hand sneaking up the side of your shirt with a raised brow. "Why didn't you just make a grab for it in the first place?"

He scoffs turning pink. "'M allowed ta just cop a feel whenever I want now?"

"Absolutely not, not in public at least. I like you breathing."

“Could have fooled me,” Mammon chuckles. He glances around the empty hallway then back to you. A slow rolling purr starts deep in his throat. "Though, there is no one here now." Slowly his dexterous fingers glide back over your sides. His touch is searing on your shirt. You could feel goldie pulsing underneath the cotton of your bra. The plastic seemingly growing warmer than your skin as his hand travels closer. You do nothing, watching his face grow hungrier with each passing centimeter as he gets close to his prize. “What’s stopping me now?”

“Just you.” He stops at the side of your chest, eye wide and greedy. You could feel him trying to temper himself. His adrenaline, fear, lust, and his raw cardinal desire thicking the air around you. It all pulsed red hot in his veins and travels down to yours. He wanted more than just goldie now. His natural magnetism pulling you in closer. You wanted him, you wanted him to just take it- take everything. The pact mark slams shut, its heat snuffed out like a candle. "Mammon?" Had your teasing gone too far?

"Hold tight to her till tonight." He growls tapping your chest possessively. His many gold rings resemble talons as he drags his fingers across the stitching of your school uniform. "I'll come for her tonight," He leans in, smoke and leather clouds your sense. "and I'll be taking a tithe for all the trouble you caused me too." His husky promise sends a shiver down your spine, gut twisting in anticipation. Mammon's bright blue eyes jump over your shoulder, a frown grows on his beautiful face, he could hear footsteps approaching from your club room. Probably the angels looking for you. Brushing his lips across your cheek he parts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Be ready. You know I always come to collect."

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me headcanons #this was fun lol #requests

413 notes · View notes

whumperooni · 4 years ago

Text

Scorched

Pairing: Enji x Reader

Word count: 7.2k

Tags/Warnings: A/B/O; tw breeding kink; tw noncon/dubcon; tw angst/no happy ending; rough sex; tw dumbification (i think?)

A/N: Uhhh, this ended up a lot different than I originally intended. I might do a rewrite in the future/alternate ending? Who knows! Sorry for the angst at the end;;;;

“....Natsuo? Are you- are you sure this is really okay?” You feel bad for asking, but you can’t help letting the question slip out- it feels so...not wrong per say, but it feels so very much like you’re intruding as you look at the looming Todoroki estate. It’s so big- fancy and traditional, beautiful and intimidating- and you bite your lip in worry as you eye it, grip your suitcase tighter. Someone like you doesn’t belong in a place so grand. “Of course it’s okay! Fuyumi was psyched when I told her you were gonna stay the weekend with us!” Natsuo pops his head out from the trunk of the cab and he sends an easy grin your way- sweet, but doing little to ease your nerves. “But, um…what about your dad?” you mumble, shuffling in place and sending the home in front of you an anxious glance. “I don’t think...I don’t think he’d want some random stranger-” “It’s fine.” It’s curt, his voice. Cold. You flinch from it and guilt pokes at you- you know your friend has...issues with his father (though he won’t really talk about them) and you feel bad about bringing up someone that upsets him. (Though, it is a fair question- the house belongs to Enji Todoroki. And you really don’t want to get on the number one hero’s bad side.) You bite your lip, head ducking, and miss the way that Natsuo’s eyes soften at your submittance. You do catch the sigh he lets out, though, and the way his hand falls to the top of your head. He offers another smile- something smaller and a little tired, somewhat less easy than the first- and he pets your hair with a gentle touch that almost has you purring. “It’s fine,” he tells you- softer and without the ice from before. “I promise. Dad is never home and, well, even if he does come home, it’ll be okay. It’s really no big deal.” You doubt that, but you don’t protest anymore- you just nod your head like a good girl and offer him a hesitant smile in return. “Okay, Natsuo,” you mumble. You force your smile a little bigger and take a breath, nod again. “Besides, we’re already here.” When your smile grows this time, it’s more natural. “And I can’t possibly pass up your sister’s famous cooking.” Natsuo grins and he ruffles your hair, grabs your suitcase before pulling away. “C’mon then- Fuyumi’s waitin’ for us.” You huff, but you follow after him- smiling just a little to yourself despite the nerves quietly jittering and fading away underneath your skin. You have always wondered what Natsuo’s family home looks like. And you’ve really wanted to meet Fuyumi after hearing so much about her from her brother. She seems nice, enthusiastic and you really do want to get to know someone that’s so important to your friend- it’ll be nice to finally meet her. You smile at the thought and step through the gateway and onto the Todoroki estate. You immediately seize up and freeze. Everything smells like...cinnamon whiskey. Cigars. Hot metal. Scorching, fierce, searing heat. It smells like alpha. (It smells good.) “...you okay?” You startle- eyes wide and hands shaking. You hadn’t realized that you had stopped- hadn’t realized that you had frozen up like a newly presented omega smelling an alpha for the first time. You touch the scent blocker plastered to your neck and breathe in deep through your mouth, try to gather yourself before Natsuo can worry even more. (What a pathetic, embarrassing response. You’ve been presented for so long now- you should be used to these things. You shouldn’t be frozen and startled with beads of sweat prickling at your hairline, your heart pounding in a frenzy against your rib cage. ….but god, though, that scent is something else- faint now that you’ve gotten used to it but still so...so… So striking. Just a whiff had frozen you in place and you know it’s just from the way Enji-san has marked the territory with a fierce, protective nature but, still, that’s remarkable. A little scary. It makes you nervous over how you’d react if you ran into the real thing.) You gulp and your fingers press tighter against your neck, push at your blocker as if it’ll make it work even better. ...you should probably take another suppressor soon. (You really hope they’ll withstand Endeavor if he comes home.) A shaky breath and you force a smile on your face, wrap your arms around yourself as you take a trembling step forward. “S-Sorry,” you apologize, a breathless laugh leaving you. It sounds quivering and overwhelmed- something so embarrassing. You fluster and hurry forward until you’re by Natsuo’s side, look up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “I’m okay.” He eyes you, puzzled, and you feel a rush of gratitude that he’s a beta- that he can’t catch your overwhelmed scent that’s flared up at his father’s own scent. (You can only imagine how well that would go if he were to find out.) “I’m fine, I promise,” you tell him more earnestly. You wrap your hands around his arm and flash him a big smile, hope that’s enough to erase his worry. “Let’s hurry so we can settle in and I can meet your big sis, huh?” Natsuo eyes you, but he nods and starts walking, tugs you along toward the waiting home. “Yeah, come on,” he says with a faint smile. “Let’s go.” You walk with him and try to ignore the fluttering in your chest, the way a scalding scent is swirling around you. ~~~~~~~~~~~ “Natsuo, I can’t believe it took so long for you to bring her here!” Natsuo grins, hand rubbing the back of his neck, and you duck your head with a smile as Fuyumi wraps you up in a quick hug. She smells nice- like vanilla and spiced oranges- and it’s almost a disappointment when she pulls away to smile down at you. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she tells you- warm and cheery. “Natsuo’s told me so much about you!” You blush- you can’t help it- and you gently elbow Natsuo in the side whenever he laughs. “He’s told me a lot about you too,” you say- maybe just a little shy but smiling all the same. “Fuyumi, I’m gonna go put her stuff in the guest room,” Natsuo pipes up. “Is dinner almost done?” Fuyumi nods and Natsuo grins- pleased as punch as he begins to walk away. You remember your need for suppressants and quickly reach a hand to grab onto Natsuo’s jacket, look up at him with sheepish eyes whenever he cocks a brow your way. “I, um, need something from my suitcase,” you tell him- trying not to let stray embarrassment show on your face. “I’ll go with you.” He just shrugs and you scamper after him- waving to Fuyumi with a little smile. The house is big- bigger than you had realized. It’s as nice on the inside as it is on the outside- very traditional and very simplistic, elegant. You can tell that everything is expensive and well taken care of on top of that. It’s nothing like the little house in the ‘burbs that you grew up in and, honestly, you would be lying if you said you weren’t in awe as you followed Natsuo throughout his family home. It’s so nice. You feel guilty for being in it for some reason- like your presence is going to somehow dirty such an immaculate, dignified home. It’s a ridiculous feeling, but you still find yourself sticking closer to Natsuo than you normally would, you find your hands curling up against your chest as you walk so they don’t brush against anything. “My room is just across the hall,” Natsuo informs you, pointing ahead. “So if ya need anything, you can knock.” You nod when he looks at you and eye his room in interest whenever he looks away. You’re kind of curious over what your friend’s room looks like- it’s nosey, maybe, but you can’t help but want to peek your head in and poke around. The room that Natsuo shows you to is plain- nice but plain; clearly a guest room. It’s going to be strange sleeping on a futon- you’ve always had a bed-, but somehow you’re kind of excited for it. It’s a little...novel? A new experience. “The bathroom’s down the hall on the left,” Natsuo tells you as he sets your suitcase down. You nod and he stretches his arms high above his head, shows off a sliver of a toned stomach that you politely avert your eyes from. “I’ll give you some time to settle in and then we’ll join Fuyumi for dinner?” You nod, smiling at him, and hum out a little, “Yeah, that sounds good.” Natsuo smiles in return and then he turns to leave. As soon as the door is closed behind him, you rush to your suitcase and unlock it with fumbling, clumsy hands. Enji-san’s scent is stronger inside the house- you absolutely need to make sure you take your suppressants. You paw through your suitcase looking for the little bottle of pills, getting frantic when it’s not in the side pocket you thought you had put it in. It’s not stuffed underneath your clothes or in your makeup bag either and you start to panic then, empty your suitcase onto the floor to sift through everything. It’s...it’s not there. How is it not there? An upset noise claws its way up your throat and you turn from your suitcase and toward your purse. There’s an emergency little pill case in there, but it only has two suppressants- enough for tonight and tomorrow. Not enough if Enji-san comes home. Hand clenching around the case, you swallow hard and try to calm down. Natsuo said that his father shouldn’t come home this weekend- that he’s rarely ever home. It should be fine; you should be okay. If...if he comes home, you’ll just have to make an excuse and leave. Or try to bear it- though you really doubt you’ll be able to. God, maybe you should ask Fuyumi if she has any? They won’t be near strong enough for you, but in a pinch… You’d have to explain why you need them, though, and that’s almost as embarrassing as Natsuo finding out that your oversensitive omegan senses are prickling in instinctual interest at his father’s territorial scent. God, being a fecund is such a pain. You whine to yourself softly- cheeks flushed in guilt and hand hurting from holding onto the pill case so tight. It’s an embarrassing situation, but it’s your fault for forgetting your suppressants at home so you’re just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. (And pray that the number one hero is kept busy chasing criminals all night long) You swallow and tuck your pills back into your purse, begin to put everything back into your suitcase. It’ll be okay, you tell yourself. He’s not going to come home. I’m going to be okay. Nervously, you tidy up after yourself and try to pretend that there’s nothing wet between your legs. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “-and now my class is not allowed to have pencil grips.” You giggle, not able to help it, and hide it behind your hand, smile at Natsuo whenever he shoots you a grin. Fuyumi is unexpectedly funny- you’re really enjoying yourself. (Even with your nerves still so frayed and your instincts still trying to react to Enji-san’s strong, strong scent.) You swallow, smile wavering, and hide it with a quick drink of wine. The Todoroki’s have very good wine- of course they do. It’s a luxury for you to enjoy- you usually end up grabbing the cheapest bottle from the corner store; you hardly ever get to enjoy something top shelf. You take another sip of the wine and blush whenever Fuyumi looks over you, set it down hastily. She doesn’t say anything- only smiles gently- and that helps you relax back down, gets you smiling back at her- albeit a bit abashedly. You hope that she hasn’t picked up on your stress- it would be much, much too embarrassing if your best friend’s older sister knew that you were battling against the way their father’s scent is trying to pull you into need. “Aren’t you taking them on a field-” A trilling ring cuts Natsuo off and he huffs at that, checks his phone and then smiles apologetically at you both. “Sorry, that’s my lab mate,” he explains. “I gotta take this- we’re working on a group project.” You nod along with Fuyumi and Natsuo gets up and walks out of the room- leaving you alone with his older sister and a quick ripple of nerves that has your fingers curling into your palms. There’s quiet for a moment and you bite your lip in a sudden whip of shyness, take another sip of wine. Fuyumi merely watches and smiles at you, fingers her own glass. “Are you alright?” she asks, just a bit softly. She tucks her hair behind her ear whenever you blink at the question, bites her lip and looks almost guilty for a moment. “I, um, I know that it can be a little jarring coming here for the first time. Dad kind of...well, he kind of gets carried away with marking his territory…” Oh, fuck. You choke on your spit as your eyes widen and Fuyumi hastily raises her hands, blushes as she waves them around. “I’m sorry! I didn’t want to bring it up, but I know that it can be hard to deal with and I’m sure that Natsuo didn’t warn you! And, well, you’re a fecund so it’s worse for you and I just- I just wanted to make sure you’re okay!” Natsuo told her? Embarrassment, shame runs through you and you have to bite your lip to hide a noise that wants to sound, you dig your nails into your thighs as upset washes over you. You don’t like telling people that you’re a fecund. You don’t like people knowing that you’re such a weak, pathetic thing. Who else has he told? Worry ripples through you and there’s an undercurrent of betrayal; Natsuo knows how hard you try to keep your status a secret and it hurts that he spilled it- even if it was just to his older sister. Fuyumi must be able to see the upset on your face- her own expression softens and there’s regret in it, something apologetic in her eyes. She doesn’t seem to be judging you or looking down on you and it helps, a little, but you still can’t quite reel in your frustration despite your instinctual efforts to do so. Great- now you’ve made things uncomfortable. Good going, idiot. Your lips quiver and you force a smile to form, clench your hands into fists tight enough to make all your fingers ache. “I…” You have to clear your throat to compose yourself, keep the hurt and shame from your voice. “I...I’m okay.” There’s a flicker of disbelief in her eyes, but it disappears quickly and your cheeks burn as her gaze turns pitying. “...if you need anything, please let me know,” Fuyumi tells you gingerly, kindly. It should be comforting, but it only brings more embarrassment and you hate yourself a little bit for not feeling grateful like you should. “Dad shouldn’t...he shouldn’t be home tonight. And, um, if he does come home, it wouldn’t be for long...I- I’ll warn you if he says anything about turning up…” You wince internally and all you can is nod, hang your head as you whisper out a strained, “thank you.” It’s quiet after that, uncomfortable. Fuyumi, for her part, looks guilty but she doesn’t try to say anything more. The silence only gets broken whenever Natsuo returns and you force a smile on your face even if you can’t quite look at him, even as your heart hurts and your nails dig deeper into your palms. You take a long drink of your wine and listen as he starts chattering about his project, stare at the table as worry and upset crowd your mind. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Several glasses of wine later, your upset is forgotten. Your worry is still there, but it’s blurred under your fuzzy senses, easier to deal with. Or, accept, maybe? It’s hard to say, but you do know that you’re more relaxed- not frantically fighting against Enji-san’s scent but softening into it, letting yourself be tugged slowly into the submissive thing you were born to be. It’s almost comforting now, that simmering scent. You’re starting to feel...hazy. Loose and small but in a good way. Though, that could be from the wine. It could be from the way you’ve found yourself snuggled up and purring against Natsuo’s chest. It’s a good contrast- the toasty scent clouding your senses and your best friend’s cool, soothing touch. You’re not overwhelmed by one or the other and it’s easier to maintain yourself when you can press your flushed cheek against Natsuo’s shoulder, burrow your nose into his neck and inhale his neutral, cleansing scent. A purr works its way through you and you curl your fingers into Natsuo’s shirt, knead at the fabric and look up at him with half-shut eyes. He’s flushed, like you, and there’s a content smile on his face, something in his eyes that you can’t put a name to. He looks happy. That’s good- you want him to be happy. Your purr ups its tempo and Natsuo laughs a little- though you’re not sure why. His hand smooths over your hair and a chirp slips from your lips whenever it travels down to your back, starts to rub slow, cool circles along you. “You’re so soft right now,” Natsuo mumbles. “I’ve never seen you like this…” He hasn’t? Oh, you suppose not… You hum and let your eyes shut, sigh contently when the arm wrapped around your waist holds you a bit more snug to him. Like this, you can almost forget your hurt from before. Almost. You shake your head against him as you feel your upset try to bubble to the surface, curl your fingers tighter into his shirt. You don’t want to be upset and stressed again. You just- you just want to relax. You just want to keep feeling nice and dreamy and a little thick. The sound of footsteps has your eyes creaking open and you blink slowly toward Fuyumi when you spot her in the doorway of Natsuo’s room. She looks...worried? You don’t know why, feel guilty over it for some reason. When you chirp softly at her, her brows furrow and you nearly get up to take her by the hand, draw her into your nest so you can nuzzle her until her worry goes away. Nest...no, wait, no. It’s not a nest you’re in- it’s Natsuo’s futon. His big, comfy futon with its cool sheets and soft pillows, fluffy padding. How did you get into his futon again? (How much did you drink?) You blink again, a little confused, and miss the way Fuyumi bites her lip, the way she hugs herself and casts a nervous look Natsuo’s way. “Natsuo…” You feel him shift underneath you and that rocks your world a bit, has your eyes shutting once more. You don’t catch the words she whispers or what Natsuo says in return, but you do feel the way Natsuo hugs you a little closer whenever Fuyumi’s so very pleasing scent drifts away and it gets drowned out by Enji-san’s so very dominating one. Cool fingers brush against your cheek and slip along your jawline, down under your chin. You whine, softly, whenever Natsuo tilts your head up to look up at him and blink heavily under his scrutinizing gaze. Why is he looking at you like that? “...are you okay?” he asks, after a few seconds of silence. Your head tilts in question and Natsuo huffs gently. “...when was your...when was your last heat?” Your last heat? You can’t remember your last heat, not really. It was drugged and fuzzy, horrible with your leaden limbs and the way you were all alone without an alpha. You’ve...you’ve never had an alpha during your heat. You’ve never had an alpha at all, actually. But- but there’s an alpha here. You can smell him. He’d take care of you- he should be taking care of you. Where is he- where is- Your lashes flutter with furious blinks and a sharp inhale has you almost choking on the scent cloying your senses. You shiver and nearly scratch Natsuo as you grip at his shirt tighter, flush in muffled embarrassment when you vaguely realize where your mind was going. Oh...oh you shouldn’t have drank so much. The moment of clarity helps to jar your mind into something almost functioning and you shudder, squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t have to see your best friend’s concern. “Natsuo...I…” You trail off, swallow back a whine that wants to sound. “Can you...my purse...I have- need to take my suppressor…” You feel the deep breath he takes, feel the way his arm around you tightens. There’s a swallow from Natsuo- audible and something that has you feeling guilty- and then his hand pats your hair, he moves to sit up. “Yeah...yeah. Give me a sec.” You don’t want to move. You don’t want to let him up- you were so comfortable before. But your clarity is lingering and you know that you need him to fetch your pills for you, you know that you can’t sink further into this. (Stupid girl, how could you weaken so much?) Reluctantly, you sit up and out of the way. The smile that Natsuo gives you is a little strained, but the way he ruffles your hair is kind, gentle. When he gets up, you move to curl against the pillows and that’s when you feel something slick on your thighs, that’s when you realize that your panties are wet. When did that happen? Did- did Natsuo know? Did Fuyumi know? You don’t- you don’t understand- when- Embarrassment claws its way out of you in the form of a whimper and shame chases after it- panic, too. You swipe at the slick on your thighs almost frantically and whine as you try to scrub it away, tear up in drunken upset. Humiliating. You manage to rub the tears away before Natsuo comes back, but you’re not quite able to get your wobbling bottom lip under control. He startles in the doorway when he sees you and you hang your head in shame, don’t look at him whenever he passes a small pill and a glass of water to you. The water is soothing, at least. The pill is soothing, too- you know it’ll kick in soon and you’ll be able to gain control of yourself, pull back from the path you were wandering down. Natsuo sits quietly beside you as you drain the glass and you sniffle your embarrassment, hunch your shoulders tight. “...’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t...I don’t…” Natsuo’s arm wraps around you and his hand finds the side of your head, gently pushes you until you’re leaned up against him. “...it’s okay,” he sighs out. You flinch because you know it’s not okay- it’s not okay at all. You’ve ruined things. “You’re not- you’re not going into heat are you?” You wince and you shake your head, hide your face against his broad shoulder. It’s not a lie...you think. It’s just- you’ve just been overwhelmed is all. Overwhelmed and drunk. You’re not- of course you’re not. You can’t be… You grip the glass tight between your hands and shake your head against him, let out a shivery exhale. “I just...I just drank too much,” you mumble. “‘M sorry, Natsuo…” He sighs again, big hand moving to pet over your hair. The cool kiss he gives to your temple is a surprise and soft noise leaves you when his lips press to you, your tension unwinds whenever he nuzzles against you. “You don’t have to apologize,” he tells you- firm but so kind, so sweet. His lips find your temple again and something in you squirms, another soft noise bubbles up and out of your throat. “...are you okay staying here tonight? If you want, I can-” You shake your head before he can finish the suggestion. Even if you’re still fuzzy and drunk, you can’t let yourself be a further burden on your friend, his family- you’re going to have to just make it through the night here and deal with any embarrassment in the morning. ...you hope Natsuo won’t look down on you when you wake. “I-I’m okay,” you insist- words stumbled, fumbled. “I’m fine. Just- just drank too much.” You lift your head and force a smile on your face, grip the glass tight once more as you try not to tremble at the sight of his furrowed brow, his worried frown. Natsuo’s hand finds your cheek and you shudder at the touch, press into his palm and try to cling to your clarity. “I’m okay,” you repeat- softer and with lowered lashes. You reach up to touch his hand and press it more against his cheek, bite your lip when his eyes widen and then soften. “I promise…” He stares down at you and you blink up at him. It’s quiet quiet quiet until Natsuo breathes in deep, gives a small nod. “Okay...I...okay…” He breathes in deep again and you let your hand drop, close your eyes whenever his moves from you as well. “Do you want...do you want to watch a movie or something?” Natsuo suggests- awkward, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. You nod because, yes, that does sound nice and, honestly, what else can you do? Natsuo moves to get comfortable and you hesitate for a moment before creeping close to him, curling up against his chest. The arm he wraps around you is firm, helps you believe that maybe he doesn’t think you’re a gross and pathetic thing. You don’t want Natsuo to think you’re gross. You don’t want him to think you’re pathetic. Natsuo puts a movie on and you close your eyes, curl your fingers into his shirt. He pets over you and you try to sink into the softness from before, avoid drowning too much in it. You drift off- dizzy and still washed over in shame, still wet between your thighs. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ...thirsty. Eyes creaking open, lips parting with a croak, you peel yourself off of Natsuo and rub your eyes with shaking hands. Thirsty. Hungry. Hot. You fumble out of the futon and Natsuo doesn’t stir, doesn’t move as you crawl away from him and stand on weak legs. Feels...you feel… ...fuzzy? You shiver and hug yourself, find your palms wet whenever they touch against your arms. Hot and cold. Doesn’t- doesn’t make sense. You’re- you’re- Thirsty. Hungry. Hot. Cold. Fuzzy. ...lonely? But Natsuo is still there...you shouldn’t be...but...he’s not- he’s not… You shake your head and rub your hands over your arms, look back toward the hallway. You’re just...you just need...you just need some water. That’s it...that’s- that’s all you need… You squeeze your eyes shut tight until stars spark up behind your lids, breathe in deep to try to clear your head. ...you’re fine. You just need some water. Another deep breath and you head toward the kitchen, dig your fingers deeper into your arms. Is it hotter in the house? It takes a moment for you to find the glasses. You try to be as quiet as you can, but your hands won’t stop shaking for reasons you don’t want to think about it. It’s...it’s hard to think anyway. Why is it so hard to think? You fill the glass with cold water and wince when your trembling hand causes droplets to splash onto you, wet your digits. You down the water faster than you have ever done before, fill the glass back up as soon as you’re done. You’re still so thirsty. You’re still so hot. Does...does it smell more like cinnamon too? Does it...can you taste whiskey on your tongue? A soft noise works its way up your throat and your lashes flutter, your thighs press together. You clutch at the counter when your knees threaten to buckle, spill the water into the sink at the sound of heavy footsteps. What...who… You whimper and turn your head toward the doorway- movements so sluggish and a gasp catching in your throat, sweat beading along your hairline. Enji-san- Enji- alpha- Flames lick into the kitchen and you slump against the counter, whimper once more as turquoise eyes stare you down. What is he- he’s not supposed to- he’s- “Al- alpha…” Enji takes a step toward you and your knees buckle, your nails scratch against the counter as you desperately try to keep yourself upright. Not supposed to be here. He’s not- he’s not- why is he- alpha- alpha- alpha smells so good- Your lashes flutter and your head tilts back with a moan, your mind clouds over even as panic pricks through you. Enji takes another step and a growl breaks through the quiet of the room, his shoe sole scorches a mark into the beautiful floor. “Who,” he rumbles out, “are you?” Your palm slips from the counter and your legs tremble, you start to fall to your knees. A thick arm wraps around your waist and drags you back up before you can hit the floor, crushes you against a broad chest. You go limp in the hold and shudder whenever fingers tilt your head up to look at him, whine softly as they splay down and brush over your throat. They’re so...they’re so warm. Big. Thick. Such nice fingers, so wonderful. You want them in you. You want alpha to- to- Oh, god, what are you thinking? A growl answers the whimper that leaves you and you whine, weakly reach a hand to his chest to try to push yourself away. “Behave.” Your hand falls. His scent flares. Your lashes grow wet and his hold on you tightens, his eyes grow darker. His fingers roam over your neck and your own twitch, your chest hitches with little pants and gasps. You don’t quite realize he’s found your scent blocker until it’s peeled off and a groan is leaving him and, by then, there’s nothing you can do about it. There’s nothing you want to do about it. (But you do- you do! He’s- he’s Natsuo’s- you can’t- you can’t!!!) A snarl sounds and you squirm at it, mewl whenever you’re dragged up higher and his nose glances along your jaw, drags down to bury against your scent glands. “Fecund.” The word reverberates against your heated flesh and it’s accompanied by rough fingers digging into you, hot air fanning over your throat. Tears leak down your cheeks, but you can’t tell if it’s from overwhelming need or from fear. Both, maybe, but how can you decide on that when your whole body is trembling, when your senses are flooded with a spicy scent, when your cunt is dripping with your slick. Teeth graze over your scent glands and you whine, grip at broad shoulders and cling to your best friend’s father. You’re thrown over one of those shoulders before you can tell what’s happening and left gasping, scratching along Enji’s back and whining whenever his hand smacks against your ass. “Alpha!” A snarl is all you get in response. You’re carried through the house- down the hallway, past the guest room, past Natsuo’s bedroom. Shades of shame have more tears dripping down your cheeks and you sob as you’re hauled off past your sleeping friend, tremble as you try to rock against Enji in search for some pathetic pleasure you so desperately need. Is alpha taking you to your nest? You want- you wanna be in your nest. You wanna- you wanna be- A door gets flung open and you’re dropped onto a futon, left blinking stupidly up at Enji as he brackets himself over you and bares his teeth. He’s so big. So- so big. Perfect for taking care of you, perfect for protecting you, perfect for breeding you. You chirp at the thought and reach up to him, purr whenever he grabs your hand and presses his nose against your wrist. “Fuck...” It’s ragged, rough. Makes something tingle up your spine. Your purr rumbles louder at it and you coo when his teeth scrape against your wrist, whenever his hand reaches to your waist and pins you down. Alpha is so strong. Why were you...why were you worried before? You can’t remember… “Alpha,” you mumble- only half-aware of it, not quite able to see him as your head lolls and your back arches. “Want...want…” Enji groans against you and his scent doubles down, his grip on your waist becomes bruising. Hurts but it’s- it’s okay- alpha can- alpha can do whatever he wants. “Needy,” Enji growls, hand pushing up your shirt. You nod, whining, and he snarls- chest heaving and pupils tiny pinpricks, flames blooming feverishly. “Good mate.” Pleasure flares all throughout and you whimper as slick gushes from you, as your pussy throbs with your need, with the giddy joy and sheer thrill of being praised by such a strong alpha. Tears have your vision blurry and they bead over your lashes, drip and sear down your cheeks as you smile and shake. Good mate. You want...you want to be a good mate for alpha. Your alpha. A big hand rips your shirt off- Enji’s impatience tearing it to shreds and the fabric digging tight into your skin as he yanks it off and makes it into so many pieces. Your bra is reduced to cinders and the cry you let out from the heat only makes Enji snarl, only has him gripping your breasts with callused hands and giving a rough squeeze. “Tender little morsel,” he growls- brilliant eyes glazing over and a sizzling slather of drool gathering between his teeth. “Mine. Been so long- going to- fuck! Going to breed-” He cuts himself off with another snarl and you sob, reach up with shaking hands to grip at his shirt, desperately try to yank him down closer to you. “Ple- please! Alpha! Breed! Need- want pups! Your pups- Alpha! Alpha! Al-” (No- no- yes! Yes! NO! What are you saying? You can’t- you can’t- You want to be full so bad.) Tears stream down your cheeks as you choke on your pleading words. Enji doesn’t pay attention except to growl and bare his teeth at you, incinerate your shorts and panties. A whimper crawls from your throat as you're burned and marked, but the pain is forgotten when his teeth find your neck and his drool gets spread along it, when your legs are forced into an aching sprawl and he grinds himself mindlessly against your dripping cunt. Feels- feels good. Hurts so much. Feels so good. You need him inside you. You whine, speech forgotten and lips and tongue useless, your mind lost and swirling with need you could have never imagined before, would have feared to comprehend. It’s so hot and thoughts are truly gone from you now- all that’s left is instinct and need, the base and feral desire to be fucked and used and bred- for your purpose as a fecund to be fulfilled. (Why were you ever ashamed of your status? This is what you were born for- this is what’s bringing you such a pure happiness that you’re weeping and shaking and crying out) You don’t protest whenever your limp body is flipped over- just snivel and whine and rock your hips back against Enji- against Alpha. There’s no prep or build up or easing into it- Enji shoves his cock into you and you’re left screaming as pain and bliss sear through you in rough, overwhelming streaks. You collapse completely underneath him and come on his cock- blood dripping down along with your slick, your thick and honeyed juices. The lick to your neck helps soothe the pain and you mewl, allow your head to loll to offer your throat to him. Enji’s neverending growl deepens as his teeth scrape against your scent glands and his fingers bruise into your hips whenever you weakly clench around him, try to rock your hips despite the sting and stretch his cock brings, despite the way you’re aching so badly that you won’t be able to move tomorrow or the day after that. That’s okay, though- alpha will take care of you. Alpha...alpha will take care of you. You need him to take care of you. You can’t do anything without alpha. Enji’s hips draw back and you whine frantically at the thought of him withdrawing from you, claw at the futon and whimper out pleading, wordless mewls. You can’t have him pull away and leave you empty- you need him buried inside of you, you need him to keep you filled and full. Never leave you empty- always keep you full- you need it- you need it! Enji slams himself back into you fully and you sob as you’re filled completely again- body jarring forward with the force and his teeth tightening and digging deep into your throat. The growl that reverberates against your flesh has your body tightening, your claws tearing into soft padding. They rip through the fabric as his hips buffet against you harder and harder and tiny feathers begin to fly through the air, stick to your sweat soaked body as alpha fucks and fucks and fucks you. Through your blurred vision, it looks like snow swirling in the air- impossible coolness despite the heat burning through the room. You coo dreamily, blearily and something scratches in your mind, claws against the pleasure that dulls the pain and has all your senses so broken and drugged. Snow...cool...there’s someone- there’s a reason you shouldn’t be- who- Flaring flames scorch the feathers to ash and you shudder as they lick close to your skin, squeeze and spasm around the thick cock that’s shaping you into Enji’s perfect little hole to breed. (If he doesn’t burn you to a crisp first.) You whimper as he grunts, drip tears and cum and sweat. It’s too much. It’s not enough. You need more. You need his- you need alpha’s- you need- you need- “Kn- knot! S- seed!” The plea scratches out of your throat in a choked sob- hoarse and whiny, so needy and garbled. It’s loud enough that it covers the sound of running steps, desperate enough to make Enji roar out and shove your face into the futon, shove you down so low that your vision is halved by padding and tears as he spears his cock into you again and again and again- swelling knot catching on your slick, sore hole. Your cunt clenches down- gummy insides so desperate to be sprayed and stuffed with his scorching seed- and you’re left drooling over the futon- lashes fluttering and eyes threatening to roll back as begs get caught in your throat and stuttered out in pathetic, broken moans. Please please please wanna be filled wanna be filled so bad need seed need alpha to come need alpha to fill me alpha give me pups alpha breed me alpha please let me give you pups alpha breed your omega alpha breed your bitch alpha alpha alpha ALPHA ALPHA ALPHA- “ALPHA!” Enji comes and it hurts- his seed searing and blistering your insides, his knot slamming and sealing the boiling cum firmly in your spasming, screaming, creaming cunt. You’re yanked up by the hair and his teeth find your neck as you sob, break through your tender flesh as he marks you from the inside out. Tears drip down your cheeks and down your throat, mix with the blood that bubbles and beads through his teeth and past his lips. Hurts- hurts. But- but alpha came- alpha filled you. Alpha bred you. So you’re happy- so happy. A gurgling, broken coo sounds from you and you smile even as you tremble and fall so limp against Enji- smile even as Natsuo and Fuyumi run into the bedroom. Alpha growls against you- content- and a weak mewl leaves you when his tongue licks over his claim, when his scent falls heavy to begin to soothe you, tamp down the pain that is threatening to break you from your fog. “What did you- what did you- WHAT DID YOU DO?!” “Dad! You can’t! Why-” You clench around Enji and whimper at the intruders, twitch and shudder as your lashes flutter to a close. Want- want more- need alpha to- need him to breed you more… You pass out as Enji’s growl turns violent, as Fuyumi clamps a hand over her mouth and sobs over your blistered body and swollen stomach, as Natsuo screams his horror and rushes toward Enji- ice coating his hands and melting from the fierce heat of the room. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Alpha...when is alpha…I need him...when is coming home...?” “...soon. Rest now.” A mewl sounds and Natsuo’s heart breaks as he watches you snuggle down into your nest, tears threaten to sting at his eyes whenever you chirp softly at him, burrow your nose into one of his father’s sweaters. You’re so big. Soft and full and stupid. His best friend- his first one true love- has been reduced to nothing but a dumb little omega- a helpless thing who can’t do anything more than chirp and mewl for your alpha- for Enji. This is all his fault. He should have never brought you here. He should have known better. How could he be so stupid? Natsuo grits his teeth and clenches his hands- unable to turn his head from the way you curl around the small bump in your stomach that’s growing larger and larger each day. All he had wanted was to bring you home. All he had wanted was to introduce you to Fuyumi. All he had wanted was to spend time with you, hold you close and gather the courage to whisper his feelings to you. And now...now that’s all gone. The chance has been crushed to bits and he only gets this with you- watching over you and making sure you’re healthy, seeing the way his father’s seed is growing inside of you. He’s going to have another brother or sister. He hates it. He hates Enji. He hates you. ...he hates himself. He should have never brought you here. He should have whisked you away whenever Fuyumi whispered her nervous worries. He should have done so many things. A sigh leaves you- soft and content, sleepy as you run your hands over your stomach. Natsuo finally turns away and he leaves the room- tears wetting his lashes and the tiny shards of his broken heart shattering even smaller. He misses his best friend. He wishes he had never dragged you into his life. Natsuo heads to his room and you stay in your nest- smiling as you drift off, mind blank and all your screaming thoughts of your future and your fear muted by the scent of cinnamon whiskey and cigar smoke, hot metal and searing heat.

#enji todoroki x reader #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw breeding kink #rooni's shit

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 3 years ago

Note

If your still taking requests for smut prompts, 107 with Benny Miller, I'm a slut for smut with feelings with this man :)

Prompt 107: “I’m not jealous! it’s just…you’re mine!”

Pairing: Benny Miller x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language, fighting (MMA), p in v sex, jealous Benny, Oral F! Receiving, spanking.

A Misunderstanding

Fish sits down beside you, handing you a beer topped off with foam. You put it to your mouth and took a sip, giggling when the foam coats your upper lip, "hey look, I look like you," you pat his shoulder and he bursts out laughing.

"God, you are perfect for him," he laughs.

You smile and turn back to the stage, seeing the announcer getting ready for the main event. You listen as he announces the two fighters and cheer loudly when Benny makes his way out of the smoke and shadow boxes the whole way to the cage. Will follows behind in his black sweatshirt, clapping and talking, keeping Ben focused.

"You think he goes home and has a sore throat from all this yelling?" you ask Fish over the announcer and he just chuckles. Fish was your best friend at these fights, keeping each other entertained with beer, snacks, and awful jokes.

Benny enters the cage, and his eyes find yours, and he winks. You put down your beer and jump out of your seat, cheering like an idiot; he just smiles, loving how much you support him. "That's my man!" you shout, and Fish just snorts into his beer before pulling you back down.

You press your shoulder against Fish, "I got a good feeling about this one," you mumble and watch the fighters hit gloves.

"You say that about every fight," he snarks back, and you grin.

"And when have I been wrong?" you put your head on his shoulder and turn back to the fight and notice the slightly distracted look on Benny's face before he shakes his head. Frankie sits closer to the edge of his seat and presses an affectionate kiss to the top of your head.

"Yeah, yeah, just watch the fight." He turns to smile at you, and you give him a hug before sitting up to enjoy watching Ben. Neither of you noticed him watching you the entire time.

The fight does not go the way you had planned; Benny won, but it was brutal, his opponent had to be taken out on a stretcher, and when you smile at him, he ignores you stalking toward the locker room. "What the hell was that about?" you ask Fish, who shrugs, looking equally confused.

"Come on, let's go see him," he takes your hand and leads you through the massive amount of people, trying to leave out the opposite direction. You flash your badges at the guards and enter the long hallway that leads to the locker room. Benny and Will are arguing in front of his changing room, and you catch the tail end of the conversation.

"-that's my fucking girl," Benny growls before they both turn, noticing you and Fish standing there. Benny takes a menacing step forward, "take your fucking hands off her."

Fish instantly drops your hand and raises both of his, "whoa, calm down, brother." Will puts his hand on Benny's chest, and you raise a brow looking between the three of them.

"Are you fucking serious?" you ask exasperated, "you-you think that Fish and I? Did you knock your head?!" Benny turns his eyes to you and pushes Will's handoff. "Are you jealous?"

His eyes widen when you put your hands on your hips and glare him down. He stutters, "I-I'm not jealous! It's just..."

"What?! What is it then?"

"YOU'RE MINE!" You open and close your mouth in shock, Fish and Will looking at him with wide eyes. He takes a step toward you, but you hold up your hand; he freezes in his track.

"Then take me," you whisper. You feel all their eyes on you, and Fish and Will have the good sense to leave, the two of you alone in the hallway.

"What?" Benny asks quietly, his hands fidgeting at his side; you can tell he wants to reach for you. "What did you say?"

"You heard me," you speak a little louder, "I'm yours, then take me, Ben." He closes the distance, and you yelp when he tosses you over his shoulder and steps into his locker room, closing the door behind him. He puts you down, and before you can say a word, he has you stripped naked and standing between his spread legs.

His hands come out, and he slaps your ass; the sting burns, and you groan, "say it again."

"I'm yours," you growl back, and he smiles.

"Face the wall," you turn at his command, and it only takes a second before his warm, rough hands glide over the skin of your ass, spreading you. "So fucking pretty." He pushes your back down further, and you bite your tongue to stop the scream as his tongue dives between your folds.

He laps his tongue back and forth, tasting you before spearing his tongue and dipping it into your drenched core. You always got turned on watching him fight, and there is something about him being jealous that has you soaked. "Mine," he growls, biting your ass and returning to your pussy, "touch yourself," he orders. You dip your fingers against your clit and rub as his tongue brings you to the edge, but before you cum he sits back, "stop."

Your foreheaded presses to the locker, and your right hand is dripping in your arousal. He pulls you back, and you bend at the waist; your head snaps up when you feel his cock drag through your folds before he starts to pull you down, impaling you. "Benny," you groan, putting your head on his shoulder; he drags your hand across your chest and sucks your arousal off your fingers before cupping both your breasts and bouncing you up and down.

At this angle, you can feel every delicious inch of him inside you. While Benny wasn't as thick, he was fucking long, and you swore you could feel him poking at your belly with how deep inside you he is. He plants his feet on the ground and fucks up into you, his balls slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust.

His back is sweaty from the fight, and it's like a slip and slide as you are raised and lowered on his cock. "Benny, Benny, please," you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. But Benny knows; he always knows. He brings one hand down to play with your clit while his other keeps a firm hand on your breasts, twisting the nipple between his rough fingertips.

"That's it, baby, soak my cock," he mumbles against your shoulder before he bites down hard. You clench around his cock like a vice at the combination of pleasure and pain. "Fuck, you're so tight," he slurs, his thrusts continuing to pound into your helpless pussy.

You've lost the ability to speak, reduced to nothing but a salivating doll for him to fuck. "I'm close," he moans against your cheek, turning your head and fusing his mouth with yours. His kiss swallows your screams as you cum, flooding his cock; at the same time, he fills you full of his cum. His tongue tangles with yours as you both ride out your highs, rolling your hips, hanging onto the last tendrils of pleasure.

He struggles to catch his breath as he pulls back and presses his forehead to your shoulder, his lips kissing gently over his mark. "Are-are you okay?" he pants out, and you nod, leaning back against his chest.

"I'm more than okay," you huff out a laugh, "did that clear everything up for you?"

"What?" he asks, pushing you to stand and turning you to face him; he brushes his hand against your cheek, "what do you mean?"

"I mean," you brush the hair off his forehead, "there is no one else on this earth I love as much as you, and you are a fool if you think anything different. There will never be anyone else but you; I'm yours, Benjamin Miller, forever."

You wipe the tears that stream down his cheek, and he presses his head against your chest and places a gentle kiss. "So I say again, does that clear everything up for you?"

He raises his head with a watery smile, "Yeah, baby, I understand, and I love you too. I'll never doubt you again."

@lunarthoughts @jedi-mando @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @darklingveracruz @marvelprincess1994 @thirstworldproblemss @spacelatinoss @martellthemandalor @kesskirata @waatermelon-sugaar @jitterbugs927 @helga1031 @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @oldstuffnewstuff @Yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anet @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @paintballkid711 @wasicskogirl @fantasticcopeaglepasta @sarahjkl82-blog @boxdyeblonde @rosiefridayrogersunday @yeah-seems-legit @mimimi-stuff @ladyblogger-margie @memyselfandellasworld @peterhollandkait @itspdameronthings @emmy626 @luv-nd-serenity @randomness501 @littlebopper96 @alexmarie29 @hell-is-my-second-home666 @thisshipwillsail316 @madslorian @no-droids-on-sunday @glixxr @sfr99 @pedro-pastel @we-can-be-himbos @sleep-tight1 @sarhabee @its--fandom--darling @im-an-adult-ish @princess76179 @demoncrypt1066 @the-dendrophile-bookworm @Amneris21 @deliciouslydisturbed365 @princessxkenobi @Kirstg42 @ew-erin @maievdenoir @withakindheartx

@gunslinger2000 @omlwhatamidoinghere @linkpk88 @tlcwrites @lv7867 @mudhorn-djarin19 @mssbridgerton @elisabethbathgate @pascal-rascal424 @midnightzonzz @massivetfsimp @mandorush @marvelousmermaid

@daffodin @xjustmenobodyelse @blufanfictionthings @nicotinebirds @dreamer-101 @queenbbarnes @rayslittlekitten

#Benny Miller x F! Reader #Benny Miller #Triple Frontier #Autumn Writes #garrett hedlund #Request #clearing out the ask box

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miizpah · 4 years ago

Text

cₐᵣ ᵣᵢdₑ | suna rintarou

anon asks : thirst trap. car sex with suna. arctic monkeys do i wanna know playing in the background. both of you high outta ur minds. send fucking thirst. female reader.

authors note: i am frothing for this man 👄💦. but listen, car sex with suna is the dream? i am manifesting 🙇🏽‍♀️

crawlin' back to you, ever thought of callin' when you've had a few?

the music was the last thing on your mind, the hands underneath your shirt are hot against the flesh of your back sending shivers down your spine. your head was tilted back a bit, exposing your neck and allowing rintarou to kiss and bite along your skin. your nails racked against his scalp, tugging on his roots softly.

“rin,” the high you were experiencing was enough to heighten everything around you, the wind entering through the cracked windows, and rintarou’s nails digging into your back. “please...” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, but your hazy mind felt as if rintarou knew what you wanted, what you needed.

“i know,” his voice was deeper than usual, coated with lust and desire, and a small hint of sleepiness. he was always sleepy when high. “lift up for me, baby.” he whispered, a single hand coming down and bunching your skirt up around your waist.

you did as told, your knees acting as support as you lift up, bending your neck so your head wouldn’t hit the roof. your hand fall away from his hair, reaching down and unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. a small hiss escaped him when you gently pulled his cock free.

you couldn’t help but moan at the sight of his drooling cock, angry red and so big.

cause maybe i do, too busy bein yours to fall for somebody new

rintarou used his free hand to move your panties aside before you were lining him up, both of his large hands came down and settled on your hips as you sunk down, whimpers leaving your mouth as the familiar scratch took you by surprise.

“doing so good for me, baby,” rintarou hummed, green eyes locking with yours. pleasurable jolts shooting throughout both of your bodies at the contact, both looking high out of your minds and fucked.

“yeah?” you whispered, needing reassurance from him.

his hands tighten, “yeah,” his bottom lip being taken between his teeth. “taking my cock so well, ‘m proud of you.”

you keen softly at the praise, a moan being drawn from your lips once you’ve settled onto his lap fully. your arms wrap around his neck, lips hovering over his own.

rintarou’s hand reached over onto the seat, revealing the dark green vape in his hands. he placed the plastic between his lips and inhaled, eyes never leaving yours.

hips rocking softly, you whine impatiently, opening your mouth. the male only rolled his eyes fondly, pulling the vape away and slotting his mouth onto yours. the smoke swirled into your mouth, traveling down your relaxed throat and entering your lungs. seconds later, he’s pulling back, and the smoke is leaving your mouth, traveling into the air above the two of you.

now, i’ve thought it through, crawlin back to you

“rin, please—!”

“shush, baby, not too loud.” rintarou shushed you, pulling you closer to his chest. “i’ll take care of you, be patient.” he whispered against your hair, hands firm against your hips and moving them.

“o-okay,” you stammered, going lax and letting rintarou guide your hips. soft moans and whimpers leaving your throat at the feeling of being constantly full, of feeling his cock rub consistently at your g spot.

the air around you both were warm, sweltering. the cool breeze doing nothing to cool your clothed bodies. your head fell onto his shoulder, moaning a bit loudly as your g spot slowly began to become simulated.

without much thinking, you’re sitting up, grabbing his large hands and placing them on your breasts. he only rose a brow, as you began to move your hips to your pace.

“i thought i told you to be patient,”

“you’re taking too long, rin-”

“so needy, brat.”

you have no time to prepare, rintarou switching your positions. his hand held onto the vape as he laid you onto your back, mindful of the door. he hands you the vape, before pushing your skirt up even much, tugging his jeans down and entering you all within the same second.

“mmm,” you hike your legs up further, sticking the plastic between your lips and inhaling.

“fuck, you’re practically drooling all over my cock.” his thrust are slow and long, forcing you to feel each drag of his cock against your gummy walls.

you exhale the smoke, passing the vape to him, relaxing fully into the seat. heat pools in your stomach as your mind process his dirty words.

so have you got the guts?

“rin!” you moan loudly, nails scratching at his bare back. clothes and vape discarded, rintarou had given up on slow car sex, his primal need to fuck you senseless taking over the moment you begged for him to go faster.

you were almost sure the car was rocking with his movements. the lewd, wet sounds emitting from your sopping cunt only added to the heat surrounding you both. both your moans mixing in with the music playing in the background.

“f-fuck,” rintarou groaned, his arms acting as pillars, caging you in and making you feel small. “your pussy so good to me, baby.”

“yeah?” you didn’t mean to sound like a pornstar, but the airy tone and moan mixing together created that stellar pornstar moan, making rintarou groan low in his throat as he looked down at you.

a breathtaking smile formed on his lips, “yeah,” he confirmed.

your walls tighten as the familiar feeling sunk into your stomach. heat curls around you, causing your toes to curl and your hands to flatten against his back. “i’m gonna cum soon,” you whimper, warning him.

your hand came down with the intend to rub at your neglected bud, but rintarou was quick in slapping your hand away. “don’t touch my cunny, baby. you’re going to cum just from my cock.”

you could only nod, moans leaving your throat uncontrollably. his pace grew a bit quicker, sharper and dead on where your overstimulated g spot was.

“gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum!” you whine, hips twisting and hands sliding up and latching onto his shoulders.

“shit, so pretty, withering under me like that.” rintarou grunted, leaning back and grabbing onto your thighs. he spread them a bit further, rolling his hips into yours. “only i can get you like this, huh?”

you couldn’t answer, mind blank, nothing but rintarou’s cock drilling into you on your mind.

“hey,” multiple taps against your cheeks bring you back into reality, eyes locking with his. “answer me.”

you whine and nod your head, feeling your orgasm closer than ever. “only you, only you, only — rin!” you throw your head back, mouth dropping open in a loud moan as your orgasm wrecked through your body.

“shit,” just by seeing your face and hearing his name being called, he pulled out quickly, his cock jerking a few times before spilling all over your stomach.

as you both come back from your highs, the sound of music floods back in.

been wondering if your hearts still open, and if so, i wanna know what time it shuts. shimmer down and pucker up, i’m sorry to interrupt...

note — whew, after that manipulative rintarou fic i definitely needed to write this one.. here’s some sorta sweet boyfire rin smut.

edit note — crying at the mistakes i found ewwie 😖

#suna rinataro #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #✨.requests.#🌚.dirty #inarizaki #rintarou #suna x reader #suna #i’m sorry but it’s canon that rin listens to AM #stoner rin is canon tell me otherwise #suna smut

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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years ago

Text

so like, nerdy strip poker

wordcount: 2k

warnings: it’s all straight smut. everyone say thank you @sunnypogue for begging for rafe x sophie smut. also the gif has nothing to do with this he’s just hot

_____

“This isn’t fun, why’d I have to date a nerd?” Rafe groaned as he finished scribbling out the last of fifty flashcards. He had been struggling in his economics class for the past few weeks and nothing was sticking, especially as he just kept staring at his typed up notes, so Sophie offered an alternative.

She rolled her eyes and reached her foot out toward him, kicking at his thigh. “Shut up and finish. You said you have to nail this test, don’t you?”

He caught her socked foot and wrapped his hand around her ankle possessively. “I know, I know. I’m done, here.” Rafe handed her the stack of cards and tried pulling her closer. “Are you gonna quiz me?”

“You’re too lazy to do it yourself?” She teased with a shiver, pulling away from him. She had on her winter coat, a knit hat, and a blanket wrapped around her - there was a giant snowstorm outside in the middle of February and the frat house wasn’t much warmer.

“C’mere, I’ll keep you warm.” He reached over again, only for her to tug away with a smirk. “No. You have to study. But I have an idea.”

He furrowed his brow, skeptical. “I don’t know if I like that look.”

“Every time you get a question right - wait, no, every three questions - I’ll take off a piece of my clothes.”

A slow grin spread across Rafe’s face and he sat back, lacing his hands behind his head. “So like, nerdy strip poker.”

“You keep calling me a nerd and I’ll put another blanket on instead.” She narrowed her eyes, pulling the blanket tighter and shoving her feet into her boots.

“Hey! Shoes are unfair!” He protested.

“Get your questions right and there won’t be a problem.” She stuck her tongue out at him and flipped through the cards, shuffling them first. “Alright. What is scarcity?”

“This is so not sexy.”

“Do you want to see me naked or not?”

He sighed dramatically, nodding, and answered the next few questions with ease. She toed off her shoes, the blanket and her winter coat, continuing to ask the questions.

“You know, this could be a lot more fun if we ditched the flash cards and you just stripped.” He gave her a lazy, hopeful grin, and she rolled her eyes. “What is the Phillips curve?”

“Shows the short run tradeoff between inflation and unemployment.” He replied easily, and groaned once he saw her tank top under her sweater she tugged over her head. “Since when have you ever worn a tank top under a sweater?!”

“A lot, when it’s cold.” She replied with a smug grin. “You just never noticed because you’re normally too preoccupied.”

“At least tell me you’re wearing my favorite bra.” He reached for her, going to pull up on the hem of her tank top, but she slapped his hand away. “Quit it. I didn’t know you had a favorite bra of mine.”

“It’s the red one I can see through.” He told her right away, point-blank with raised eyebrows.

She laughed at the quickness of his response, blushing a little. “No, I’m wearing a sports bra that’s at least five years old, it’s like the least sexy thing ever. But nice try. And I only wore that bra on accident.”

“On accident?” He asked curiously, cocking his head.

“Yes, you saw it because it was laundry day.” She blushed more, shaking her head. “I got it as a gag gift, I wasn’t planning on sleeping with you that day. It felt a little too...early in the relationship for lingerie.” She thought back to that day, nothing too special, and remembered how Rafe’s jaw literally dropped when he pulled off her shirt over her head. She had made a mental note of it and immediately went and bought more lingerie online that night.

“Lucky me.” He grinned and leaned forward, trying to grab the cards out of her hands. “Sophie - come on -” She wrestled them out of his hands, only getting him to let go by biting at his knuckle. He yanked his hand back, jaw dropping. “Did you just bite me?”

“You have to study!” She protested, holding the cards back and out of his reach. “I’m not letting you fail this test. Tell me what the circular flow diagram is.”

“You bit me. My girlfriend literally just bit me.” He repeated, dramatically rubbing over his knuckle.

“Answer the question or we’re not having sex.” She fixed him with a pointed glare.

“Wait, we’re having sex?”

“Oh my god, you idiot, I’m not taking all my clothes off in this cold ass house just to sit here on the couch.”

“Be nice to me, Jesus!” He exclaimed, shaking his head.

“You’re being dumb, I can’t help it!” She laughed as he flipped her off. “Answer the question.” He grumbled but followed along, answering a handful of questions until she stood to shimmy her tights off underneath her skirt, down to her sports bra, skirt and underwear.

“What are you - Sophie, just take the skirt off.” He groaned, holding back a smile as she struggled to wiggle out of them and keep her skirt on too. She stuck her foot in his lap, toe pointed as her tights were halfway down her thighs. “No, that’s not the point of the game. Pull these off.”

“I’m never studying with you again. Do you have those weird nipple things on under your bra? You were prepared for this game, weren’t you?” He yanked on her tights, causing them to rip, then immediately pulled his hand away.

“Rafe! Those are my good tights! Were my good tights!” She complained, hopping on one foot as she pulled them off. “I’ll buy you new ones, I didn’t think they’d rip like that!” He reached for the now-slim stack of flashcards again, trying to tug them out of her grip and accidentally gave her a papercut across the pad of her thumb. “Fuck, Rafe!” She hissed, yanking her hand back.

He winced and hooked an arm around her waist, easily pulling her down to his lap, and tenderly pressed a kiss to her thumb. “I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t mean to.”

“You suck.” Sophie frowned, but picked up the flashcards off the couch anyways. “Just finish the deck. You only have ten left. And no, I’m not wearing nipple covers, dumbass, those are just for when I’m not wearing a bra.” She flicked his forehead, immediately following it with a kiss.

“You’re mean.” He argued, but softened a little at the tenderness of the kiss. As he answered the first couple of questions, she turned to straddle him, tugging up on his shirt. “Hurry up, I’m cold.”

“I could have warmed you up by now. Twice.” He smirked, catching her in a kiss. She shivered, feeling his hands automatically fall to her waist. “You’re too damn cocky. This is why I’m mean, your ego’s too big.”

“You’re my girlfriend, you’re supposed to encourage me.” He flinched upon feeling her cold hands tug up on his sweater, but let her pull it off anyways. “I do. When you deserve it. But you're annoying me right now.”

“You’re talking too much.” Rafe unbuttoned her skirt, tossing it to the side. “You’re not done - fuck -” She breathed out as he attached his lips to her neck, knowing exactly how to derail her train of thought. “Rafe -” She mumbled, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“Hm?”

“The bed. Please.” She urged. He stood right away, easily slipping his hands under her thighs as he carried her over to the bed. “I’m gonna have a problem when I take my test.” He told her, kicking off his sweatpants then crawled back over her, caging her in with his forearms resting on either side of her head. “Because you didn’t finish the deck?” She asked curiously, hooking one leg around his waist and pressing her hips against his.

He bit back a groan, kissing her hard. “Because I’m going to be thinking of this the whole time.”

“That doesn’t sound like an issue.” She countered, lifting her arms so he could tug her sports bra off. He struggled, accidentally snapping the elastic against her chest. “How the fuck do I get this thing off?”

Sophie giggled, twisting a little so he could successfully tug it over her head and onto the floor. “There you go.” He traced over the marks it left with one finger, frowning for a moment. “Does that hurt you?”

“Not really.” She sucked in a sharp breath as he pinched her nipple, rolling it between his fingers and licked across the other. “I think you should quit wearing bras.” He told her, trailing his hand down her waist and teased his index finger under the waistband of her panties.

“You get jealous when I wear a tight shirt out to the bars. You think you can handle guys looking at my nipples too?” She quipped, willing herself to stay quiet as he easily pushed her up the bed and tugged her panties off her body.

“Oh. Probably not.” He grinned as he ran two fingers across her entrance, making her whine. “You’re jealous too though.” She tensed in anticipation, but let her legs fall open a little wider.

“I’ve never been jealous in my life.” She lied, giggling when he looked up with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah? What about -”

“If you say her name while we’re in bed, I will suffocate you between my legs.” She threatened, her smile instantly dropping.

“What a way to go.” Rafe grinned, dipping two fingers inside of her and loving the way she instantly reacted. He ducked his head down and wasted no time in getting to work, flicking his tongue across her clit and curling his fingers toward himself.

“Fuck, Rafe.” She moaned quietly, fisting her fingers in his hair. He kept up his ministrations at a steady pace, pushing her thighs out again when they nearly clamped around his head. “Easy, baby.” He smirked. Sophie lifted her head to make a quick retort, but her breath caught in her throat as he sucked on her clit, all thoughts forgotten.

When she got whinier and whinier, close to shaking, he pulled away abruptly, groaning quietly as she tugged hard on his hair. “Careful, Soph.” He brought both fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean, and she watched him with wide eyes for a moment, letting go of his hair. “I - um, sorry, but. You weren’t done.”

He smirked, kissing up her body. “I don’t mind.”

“I was so close.” She mumbled, whining as he sucked a mark along her collarbone.

“Don’t worry, angel, almost there.” He kicked off his boxers and Sophie thought it was almost embarrassing how her mouth practically watered at the sight, how easily he could make her mind clouded over. She grabbed a condom from his nightstand and carefully rolled it down him, grinning when he hissed at the contact. He lifted her hips and pulled her close, entering her at a painfully slow rate.

“More, please, more.” She begged, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to hold him close. “So needy.” Rafe teased, his voice low and guttural in her ear. He kept his pace annoyingly slow, groaning as Sophie rocked her hips against his. She nearly bit down on his shoulder to muffle her cry when he reached in between them and rubbed his fingers across her clit, bringing her so close once again. “Hold out for me, Soph.” He instructed, snapping his hips a little faster.

“I - fuck - please -” She panted, pressing desperate kisses to anywhere she could reach across his neck. That was all it took for him to rub her clit faster, harder, and she came with a whimper, burying her face against his skin. “That’s it, good girl,” Rafe praised. He followed shortly after, the vibrations of his groan against her neck sending waves through her body.

The two lay in silence for a moment as they caught their breath, completely limp against each other. When he went to pull away, she whined, holding her arms tight around him to keep his weight on her. “Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“That was just once. You said you’d warm me up twice.” She teased, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

He nodded, letting out a hot breath against her shoulder. “Give me a second and I’ll prove I’m a man of my word.”

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23

#not me using an econ101 quizlet for this.....#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfic #obx fanfic #college rafe #frat rafe #rafe x sophie #mine

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kopikokun · 4 years ago

Text

Tell Me What You Want Me to Do to You༄ mark l.

↳ On an awfully planned trip with your best friend Mark, the place you end up spending the night in is not what you had in mind. Oh well, at least Mark’s there to keep you company. And apparently, he’s a pretty great kisser too.

pairing: bestfriend!mark x f!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, friends to lovers, college!au

wordcount: 1.8k words

author’s note: i’m so sorry that i can’t add the ‘keep reading’ thing. i’ve tried, but every time i do it, the whole post gets wonky and i can’t edit it on mobile anymore. i’ve even tried desktop tumblr but the same thing happens :(

Request 32: Mark + “I need a hug.” (42) + “Stop being so cute.” (67) + “Put me down!” (153) + “There’s only one bed...” (154) [F2L + Suggestive]

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬��𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

In hindsight, a trip with your best friend sounded like a more than sound idea. The two of you had combined what limited knowledge you had about general adulting, scrounged up most that you could considering your financial situations as two college kids, and, in essence, had made things worked.

Or at the very least, you think, eyes scanning the room, taking in the general gist of the next addition to your mountain of already existing issues, made things happen.

And to answer a question; yes, there is a significant difference between work and happen.

Mark sighs wearily. It’s most likely due to the ridiculously lengthy car ride the two of you had been subjected to just to get here (and the back-and-forth bickering over whose bright idea it was to decide to go on holiday when the travelling industry is at its peak—it had been Mark’s, by the way, something about promotions and discount prices) and the even more absurd hike—or as the cheery staff liked to call it—expedition to your room.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to take a trip to the middle of nowhere, Mark.”

“Excuse me, this is not ‘the middle of nowhere’. According to the website, this is a ‘refined establishment which offers a fresh look into life alongside Mother Nature’,” defends Mark, letting the duffel bag stuffed with clothing he has slung over his shoulder slip to the ground with not an ounce of care.

“Well, that’s marketing for you.” You roll your eyes. “Just admit, you screwed up.”

Mark scoffs, unwilling to admit his defeat. “Not my fault that you’re a city girl.”

“This has nothing to do with me being a ‘city girl’. And you say that like you’re not a city boy.” Mark is tempted to say something petty in response but bites back his words. “And we have a bigger problem at hand right now, Mark.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a big problem…”

“Dude,” you deadpan. “It’s a big problem. There’s only one bed.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “We can come up with something… I, uh, I could sleep on the floor?”

“In this weather? You’ll be dead of hypothermia by morning. So, no.”

“Christ, alright then I guess we’ll just have to sleep on the same bed,” says Mark casually, falling onto the linen sheets. The bed creaks under his weight.

You shoot him an incredulous look. “Together? On the same bed?”

“Yeah, why not? We’ve done it before when we were kids.” Mark stares blankly up at the ceiling. “What’s so different about back then to now?”

You laugh wryly. “What’s different? We did it when we were kids, Mark. Kids.” Your face warms as you give Mark a once-over, taking it how much he’s grown into his good looks over the years. “I can list off plenty of things that have changed since we were literal children.”

Mark flips onto his side to face you head-on, an elbow propping him up. “Why? What’s wrong? You got a crush on me now?”

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks pool with even more blistering heat. “Ugh, as if.”

“Damn, alright then, Cher Horowitz,” jeers Mark.

You stick your tongue out at Mark. “Whatever. Pass me a pillow. I’ll take the floor.”

Mark jolts upright like a meerkat on the lookout. “What? No, you take the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

“No, I’m good. You can have the bed to yourself. I don’t mind, honestly.” You jerk your thumb towards yourself, pushing your chest out proudly. “This ‘city girl’ can handle a little bit of cold.”

There’s the muffled rustling of sheets and the padding of feet against the floor before a pair of arms coil themselves around your waist from behind you, which by the way, doesn’t help your cheeks which only grow hotter by the second. You turn to face Mark who stares at you with nothing but genuine concern.

“No way. This ‘city girl’ is taking the bed.” His arms curl tighter around you, pulling you even closer to him. “Come on. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No, Mark it’s—”

Your refusal is cut short when you feel your body grow weightless as your feet are lifted off of the ground.

“Oh my God! Holy shit, Mark.” Like a hapless ragdoll, you’re almost effortlessly thrown over Mark’s shoulder. You’d be impressed by how surprisingly strong he is given his skinny-looking exterior, but you find that this isn’t quite the right time to be complimenting his physical abilities just yet. Mark grunts when you writhe in his hold. “Put me down!”

“With pleasure.”

You yelp, startled when Mark nonchalantly drops you onto the bed, following suit not too long after, his face inches from yours. His arms cage in your face and you feel your head grow dizzy, intoxicated by his scent. Your heart lurches when the bed groans with all the brute force being heaved onto it.

Mark grins cheekily at you, an airy laugh leaving his lips. “Jesus, you should’ve seen your face! It was priceless.”

You stare up at him, subconsciously drinking in his beautiful features; from the hairs of his eyebrows to the flutter of his eyelashes to the rosy apples of his cheeks and right down to the dip of his cupid’s bow, you gawk at him in silence for a moment or two. You realise that it’s actually been a moment or two too long since you’ve said something by the way Mark’s smile falters and his eyes begin to roam your face with just as much intrigue.

You clear your throat, averting his keen gaze. “Yeah, alright. Haha, very funny, Mark.”

For once, Mark doesn’t have any witty comeback for you in response. In fact, the room is drop dead silent save for the mechanical whirring of the ceiling fan. Mark’s adam’s apple bobs up and down in apprehension as his eyes scan your face once more. You can’t look away from him. Your eyes are glued to his as your heart hammers in your chest, its vibrations ringing in your ears.

He makes a move to get off of you but freezes when he feels your hand wrap around his bicep, urging for him to stay as he is. Mark watches you with interest, waiting for something more, but all you can do is continue gaping at him. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, blinking up at him. You wait with baited breath as Mark licks his lips.

“What?” he whispers. “What is it you want from me?”

You inhale sharply.

Mark’s voice drops several octaves, turning almost gravelly, which is so out of character for him you nearly blanch. “Come on, I want to know. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

You mumble your words incoherently, your mind too clouded over to formulate an actual sentence.

“Speak up, pretty girl. I can’t hear you.” Mark leans into your ear, his hot breath making your hairs stand on end.

“Want you to kiss me, Mark.”

“God, you’re so cute. Stop being so cute. Say it again.”

You huff, growing impatient. “Please, Mark. Just kiss me already.”

“Holy shit.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “That's really hot.”

Mark kisses you tenderly. His lips press softly against yours, testing the waters and gauging your reaction. He tastes of the spearmint gum you gave him on the ride here and he smells like the fabric softener you always use when you go over to his place.

His hand cups your cheek, and at your hum of appreciation, he finally decides to kiss you with a little more fervour.

You’re not sure how, but you soon find yourself in Mark’s lap as he rests his back against the headboard. You chase after his lips when he pulls away and he giggles, the sound so bizarre considering the atmosphere. You don’t stay displeased for too long though, as Mark begins kissing down your jaw, which tickles, if you're being frank.

Mark’s grip on you turns bruising when you scratch at his nape, savouring the way his breath hitches. As things progress, you can’t help but wonder how this exactly happened. Sure, you’ve had those moments where the idea of being more than friends with Mark excited you, but it’s not like you dwelled on the thought often. All throughout your friendship, you’d never had any moments like this, but you’re surprised you two hadn’t done this sooner, because God, this feels amazing. Thinking back on it, there have been moments where you’d caught Mark staring a little too intensely at you and vice-versa, but you brushed it off as a common occurrence, being friends with a guy. But, you suppose, given the fact that you and Mark are making out right now, probably means that those stares meant a little more than you had first surmised.

You pull away when Mark grips the back of your neck. He pauses, his gaze finding yours.

He swallows dryly. “You okay?"

You exhale shakily, a whirlwind of thoughts consuming you. “Wait- I- Can we,” you take a breath, “can we stop?”

Immediately, Mark’s expression melts into one of distress. “Yeah, of course we can.”

“Thanks.” You nod timidly, climbing off his lap and sinking into the spot beside him. You chew on the flesh of your inner cheek, guilt washing over you. “I- I’m sorry.”

Mark’s head swivels to face you. “What? No, don’t be sorry. It’s fine.” He fiddles with his fingers. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“What? No, no, you didn’t.” You laugh reassuringly. “I just- I don’t know- I just—”

“No, it’s okay. If you want to stop, I'll stop. No explanation required.” Mark smiles at you. “But… we’re still cool, right?”

“Of course we are, dude.”

Mark snickers. “Wow, I can’t believe you just called me dude after we made out. You’re really something else, huh?”

“Hey! You should take that as a compliment.” You shove him playfully. “I don’t call just anyone dude.”

“Well then, it’s an honour. Dude.”

Your conversation dwindles into silence. You feel anxiety begin to make its way up your spine as it latches onto you, sinking its gnarly teeth into your back. What now? Can you two really go back to being just friends if that’s what you ultimately decided? The faint spinning of the fan is the only thing that nulls your worries. Cautiously, you reach for Mark’s hand beside you and thankfully, he reciprocates the gesture. You sigh happily, finding solace in the warmth radiating from his fingertips.

“Can I—no I mean—can we cuddle?” You await a response from Mark, only to be greeted by nothing. “Uh, I’m sorry. That was dumb of me. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

You attempt to pry your fingers from Mark’s but he refuses to let you slip away. Instead, he brings your hand to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your palm. “Hey, no. Let’s cuddle. I’m down for that. I need a hug, anyway.”

It’s astounding how easy it is to get into a spooning position with Mark. And as corny as it sounds, you feel like you fit perfectly in his arms, snug against his chest. You allow yourself to relax in his embrace until you feel something digging into your thigh.

“Is that—”

“Yeah, sorry,” says Mark sheepishly. He shifts in his position, but to no avail. He just hisses in discomfort. You smother a giggle. “I’m still, uh, a little… excited?”

“My bad.”

Mark pokes your waist, fishing that repressed giggle out of you. “Dumbass.”

And as you lay there with Mark, your laughter fading as the moon rises, you can’t deny the sparks of attraction that have ignited. You’re not quite sure exactly how you feel, but you think, whatever the outcome, the two of you will be alright.

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august-bleeds-red · 4 years ago

Text

Carnival Lights

(Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader)

Bo makes a stranger’s ride on the Ferris wheel more than an average trip to the carnival.

WARNINGS: Non-con, forced orgasm (NSFW below the line).

It was your first blind date since you were sixteen. The guy was twenty-three and already a junior partner in a prestigious law firm, and dull as paint. But, even discounting his handsome face and impeccable manners, your mom would never forgive you if you messed up on the first date. He’d opted out of riding the wheel with you, confessing a fear of heights that prevented him scaling anything higher than a stepladder, and had stepped away to pick up snacks for when you descended.

The Ferris wheel had always been your favourite ride as a kid, back when your dad used to take you to the carnival, and you really wanted at least one ride before the night ended – for old time’s sake. You didn’t care if it made you look weird to ride alone.

The wheel is an old-fashioned one with round, metal-roofed cars, with seats sitting opposite each other. Thankfully, it doesn’t tilt too far with just your weight to balance it.

“Just you?” the attendant asks. You nod.

He’s just about to close the door and secure it when someone speaks up:

“Excuse me, y’all mind if I ride with you?”

He’s a handsome, dark-haired man in his thirties, with a lazy Louisiana drawl, dressed comfortably in work pants and a navy button-down shirt, an old red-and-white trucker cap sticking out of his back pocket. His face is friendly, eyebrows raised in hope as he awaits your response.

“Oh . . . I, uh . . .”

You’re not sure your date would appreciate you sitting in such a confined space with a strange guy you just met, but the attendant is looking at you impatiently, so you panic and shrug in consent. The guy smiles and takes the seat opposite you, the car bouncing a little at the change in weight. His legs are long, his knees almost brushing yours, but he keeps his hands at a respectable distance in his lap. The attendant fastens the door shut and the car trundles a few feet along to allow the next passengers. You know it’s gonna take a while – they need to fill up every car before setting the wheel to spin freely. Which means you’re sitting with this guy for at least the next ten minutes.

“Name’s Bo,” he says, holding out a hand to you.

“Um . . . Y/N,” you reply, accepting the handshake politely. His hand is big, his palm warm against yours.

“Figured we might as well get acquainted if we’re stuck in this tuna can together,” he reasons.

“Yeah,” you grin nervously, not wanting to point out that you’re only “stuck” because it was his idea to join you.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m a creature of impulse – my ma used to take me and my brothers on this wheel when we were little kids, an’ I saw you sittin’ alone and, I dunno, you just looked like a nice girl, so I took a shot.”

“No, it – it’s okay,” your smile grows more genuine. “My dad used to take me on this wheel too, every time the carnival came into town.”

He smiles, his eyes fixed on your face. He has an intense, dark stare, his brown eyes barely blinking. “So you here by yourself?”

“No, my date’s around here somewhere.”

“Well, that’s a little weird,” Bo says. “Leavin’ you to ride alone?”

“Heh, yeah,” you shrug. “Doesn’t like heights.”

Bo snorts and mutters something that sounds like, “Pussy.” You can’t help but giggle.

The car has now elevated far enough from the ground as to make disembarking impossible. You gaze down at the sprawling carnival lights, illuminating the stalls, food carts and rides in a soft, golden glow.

You don’t speak up when Bo shifts in his seat, edging closer to you so your knees touch. The car is small – there’s no reason to make a fuss for what could just be an honest mistake. Until his fingertips brush against the crown of your kneecap.

“Kinda irresponsible, really,” he says, his voice lowering. “Leavin’ a little lady as cute as you unaccompanied.”

Would it be rude to ask him to stop talking? Or at least to move his hand? His fingers are definitely rubbing the inside of your knee now, his gaze hot in a way that proves he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You’re just about to say something, when he ‘casually’ shifts in his seat, lifting his trouser leg high enough for you to see the handle of a knife tucked into his heavy boot. Your blood runs cold and you press your lips together. His hand slides further up your leg until his whole palm is resting on your thigh.

“I know if it were me,” he purrs, “I wouldn’t let you outta my sight for a moment.”

Your fingers are shaking, your skin beginning to prickle.

“Please . . .” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

He grins. “Please what, princess?”

“I . . .” you swallow around the lump rising in your throat. “Please don’t hurt me.”

He laughs. “Then you’ll do what I say, won’t cha?”

He eases the knife from his boot and pockets the guard protecting the blade, tracing the dull edge down the soft skin of your thigh. One false move, one flick of his wrist, and you’d be bleeding out all over the car floor. He leans across and uses the blade to dislodge the straps of your dress.

“Let’s see them gorgeous tits,” he says. Reaching across, he pulls at your neckline, revealing the strapless bra you’re wearing underneath. “Oh, honey – d’you wear that just for me?” Slipping his fingers inside the blue lace cup, he releases one of your breasts and squeezes roughly. You whimper, clapping a hand over your mouth when the knife twitches in his hand.

“Look at these pretty little nipples,” he flicks his thumb over one, smiling when it hardens at his touch. “Why, they’re already pleased to see me, aren’t they?”

Cursing your treacherous body, you shut your eyes and wince as he scoops your other breast free, jiggling the soft flesh.

“God damn, these puppies look sweet enough to eat,” he moans, leaning in and lapping at one nipple with his tongue. You cringe away from him, gasping when he takes a firm grip on the back of your head.

“Now,” he murmurs, “you’re gonna come sit on my lap, right? We’re gonna have a little fun. Easy, nice and slow – don’t wanna draw too much attention now, do we?

Hating your own cowardice, you shift from your seat and turn, letting Bo settle you against his clothed erection. You can feel it through the fabric, digging into your ass. The car stays at an inconspicuous angle, the cars below, above or opposite you none the wiser as to what’s going on.

Bo keeps one hand on your breast, squeezing and pinching, the other strays further downwards. The knife is stowed away back into his boot, but you already know better than to make a grab for it.

“Let’s see just how much of a good girl y’really are,” he whispers in your ear, teeth biting at the side of your neck. A shiver runs through you, and you can tell he feels it by the way his lips curl against your skin. The tips of his fingers brush your panties and you close your eyes in shame at how damp they are. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, and the way he’s sucking and teething at your skin is only making it worse. Nudging aside the silky fabric, you gasp when his thick, calloused fingers trace the outline of your pussy.

“Ahh, there we go,” he shifts a little, spreading your thighs further apart with his knees. “Just look how wet y’are for me. You’re just a little slut, ain’t cha?”

His fingers push past your folds, rubbing at your clit and making your legs tremble. He slips in up to the first knuckles of his index and middle fingers, his thumb circling your clit with a practiced movement.

“Y’like the way my fingers feel in you, you little whore?” he growls in your ear. “Fuck, you’re soakin’ wet. Bet you wish you could take my hard fuckin’ cock in that sweet little cunt, huh? Ride me ‘til I fill you up with cum, you dirty fuckin’ slut.”

He forces another finger inside you, tilting his wrist to allow them to sink in right to the hilt. You stretch around his digits, your slick walls inviting him in further. Why is this happening? Why are you so turned on? Your heart flutters in the cage of your chest and you bite your lip to keep from moaning.

“Thaaaat’s it,” Bo croons, quickening pace. “You love it, don’t you, you little whore? You love havin’ my fingers all up in your cunt.”

You shake your head and the hand molesting your breast takes a firm hold of your jaw. He turns your head to face him and your lips are assaulted – his tongue staining your mouth with the faint taste of tobacco. Your pussy is liquid in his hands, the warm whispers of pleasure building steadily in your lower stomach.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Y’hear that, bitch? You’re gonna cum on my fingers like a slut. C’mon, gimme that goddamn cunt. Show how much you love bein’ fingered like a cheap whore.”

Bitch. Slut. Whore. The poisonous words hang in the air around you.

“Tell me you wanna cum,” he demands. “Beg me to make you cum.”

“I— I can’t . . .” you whimper. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you stooped to that level of indignity. Then he stops and the sky comes crashing down around your ears. “F-fuck—!”

“Tell me what I wanna hear, baby.” He moves his fingers again at a brutal pace, the friction against both your clit and G-spot almost too much to bear. It’s growing, reaching such a pitch as to make your ears ring.

“Fuck, please . . .” you screw your eyes shut against what you feel is the judgment of the world. “Please . . . make me cum—”

“Say my name, bitch,” he growls. “Tell me who this fuckin’ cunt belongs to.”

“Bo! Y-you . . . my . . . it belongs to you . . . oh God, Bo, please, please—”

At the last moment, as you feel your walls contracting, he shoves two fingers in your mouth, grunting with satisfaction as you bite down to prevent yourself crying out from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced. He chuckles darkly in your ear, his fingers making an obscenely wet sound as they withdraw from you.

He allows you to reassemble yourself before the wheel has completed its final loop. You run a hand through your tangled hair and wipe away the smears of mascara beneath your eyes, while he sucks the shining fluid from his fingers with apparent relish. The last few drops, however, he spares for you. You gag around the fingers he forces into your mouth, tasting the tangy flavour of your own juices.

When the attendant lets you out, Bo gestures for you to go first, like the Southern gentleman one might presume him to be at first glance. You can see your date waiting for you, a stick of cotton candy in one hand. As you reach him, he watches Bo leave the car behind you.

“Who was that?” he asks, handing you the pink cloud of spun sugar.

“No-one,” you shrug as casually as you can manage. You could tell him, now you’re free from the cage. But you don’t. And you never will.

Grinning like a cat in a dairy barn, Bo secures his cap atop his head. Catching your eye one last time, he winks, nods, and disappears into the crowd.

Inspired by a soundgasm piece by @gentlemanswitch.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax #horror #slashers #slasher lover #slasher fandom #slasher community #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair

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munsonboy · 4 years ago

Note

Do you have any headcanons abt a tiny begging Loki to go outside and explore and Loki keeps saying “no you’re too small something could happen.” So they never go outside anymore and stay with Loki until one day the tiny is really down and depressed and Loki finally allows them to go outside with him and the whole time he’s so worried something will happen to them (like he can’t even see them in the grass when he lets them walk on their own so he’s esp nervous then) but the tiny is just so happy to be outside and feel the sun on their face!

I know it’s kinda specific but I really enjoy reading this type of stuff

The amount of fluff that this concept has-...🥺🥺

Also, instead of head canons, I wrote a long story!😆Enjoy!😁❤️

______________________________________________

~Outside These Walls~

“Loki please! I don’t understand what the big deal is!”, you exclaimed as you sat cupped in the hands of the God of Mischief himself, Loki.

“My little dove, you know why I can’t let you leave the safety of my room”, said Loki. He saw that you were about to argue back with him, so he gently placed his fingertip over your mouth and quickly said, “The outside world is cruel. I am merely protecting you from it.” You pushed his finger off of your face, earning a chuckle out of Loki. He set you down on his shoulder, opening a book and reading aloud to you. He hoped it would distract your mind away from wanting to leave the safety that the indoors had to offer.

You sighed. ‘I’m never going to get through to him’, you thought as you tucked your knees close to your chest.

Ever since you were caught by Loki about 1 month ago, he has slowly been shying away from the idea of you going outside. He even didn’t like you climbing down the bookshelves that covered the walls in his room or his nightstand anymore!

Unbeknownst to Loki, however, you used to live outside a while before you made your way into the Avengers Tower! Climbing trees, sheltering underneath the petals of flowers so that you wouldn’t get hit by a raindrop as water poured from the sky, using sticks as a defense mechanism to protect yourself—-if only he knew the predicaments you’ve gotten yourself into in Central Park. You felt as if your independence was being eaten up slowly and you had no idea what to do about it. You felt powerless.

———— 4 days later ————

Loki had made his point clear by ending any conversation that you tried starting with him where you mentioned going outside. He was not about to make the biggest mistake of his life. How could he let someone as small as you wander out into the wilderness? That’s a death wish at best, not an enjoyable, well spent afternoon.

At the moment, Loki was sitting at his desk going through a few mission files the Avengers had planned for him. He would rather be doing anything else than sitting at this run down desk looking at what was going to ruin his schedule in the next couple of weeks.

Loki had tried to get you to help him, but, you kindly declined and took a seat up against the floor-to-ceiling window in the room. This hurt Loki’s feelings immensely. You had never been one to not want to hang out with Loki. In fact, he would consider you the most clingiest person he had ever met, especially after the first time he had caught you roaming around his room. You always wanted him around.

As Loki tried to focus on the files in front of him, he couldn’t help but get distracted and glance over at your spot on the floor. Ever since you had asked Loki to take you outside a few days ago and he had refused to take you outdoors, you seemed...off.

He had offered his hand for you to climb on last night so that he could read to you, but instead of the happy, little mortal he’s grown attached to, he saw this new personality that overtook your joy——a more depressed attitude that Loki had never seen come out of you before.

You normally would bounce up and down with joy whenever he wanted to pick you up, but lately you’ve been acting like a completely new person. Your usual mood that would always brighten up Loki’s miserable one was fading slightly, and Loki did not like it at all. He knew why you were acting this way, but he denied the thought and just came to terms with himself that you weren’t feeling well.

You were looking out the window, staring intently at what stood on the other side of the glass—Central Park. Oh how you wish you could just be outside again.

“Small one? Can you please step away from the window? I can’t bear to see you so close to the outdoors. You’re only separated from it by a 2 inch thick piece of glass”, stated Loki.

You couldn’t believe what you just heard.

“I can’t even look out of a window now?”, you asked. You expected him to answer your question right away, but he stayed silent. You couldn’t take this no longer. You stood up and marched your way over to his bed. After having some trouble getting to the top, you finally made it. You walked over towards the other side of the mattress, eyes locked on the desk beside it where Loki sat hunched over.

“Loki, are you seriously not gonna let me even look outside? You know I can’t stay inside for the rest of my life, right?”, you questioned.

“Well of course you can. You can stay inside where you’re safe with me”, he said like it was a fact. Were you really going to be stuck inside forever?

“W-Why won’t you let me go outside?”, you asked.

You were on the verge of breaking down into tears. You absolutely love Loki to death, You admire his mischievous ways, as well as the softer side you somehow manage to bring out of him, but with his recent possessiveness that he’s been showing towards you, you realized how worrisome it’s been getting.

Loki stayed silent, focusing on the files in front of him and biting his lip in order to prevent himself from responding. Y/n couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I need to go outside at some point in my life! Where do you think I used to live before I met you?”, she exclaimed.

“Child, you are to stay here, in my room, with me where you are safe. You will not utter a single word about the outdoors, understand?!”, yelled Loki.

Loki visibly saw you flinch and instantly felt guilty. Instead of fearing him, though, you decided to fight back.

“You were never this overprotective before. D-Do you not see my as your friend? I am just another mortal that you want to have full control over? Why do you keep me here locked up in your room like I’m some sort of pet?!”, she yelled.

“Because I can’t lose you!”, exclaimed Loki. He put his hands on top of his head and got up from his seat. He began to pace around the room. Irritation and frustration filling his mind with each step he took. He couldn’t believe that you thought of yourself as some caged up animal. You were his equal, his friend, family even! He never meant for you to feel that way.

“Forgive me, I-...I-I don’t know why-..I just-...”, Loki had trouble thinking about what he should say to you after his outburst. He had never yelled at you like that before, and right now, he felt awful.

You sensed the guilt that he was feeling because he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you.

“Loki��-please, calm down. Let’s just talk things through like we always do. Okay?”, asked Y/n calmly.

You had never witnessed Loki in a panicking state. You wished that you were his size so you could wrap your arms around him in a hug.

Loki’s pacing had slowed down. He came to a halt in the middle of the room.

“Loki?”

He turned his head towards you, causing you to gasp. His face was wet with tears. You gasped.

“P-Please don’t cry! Come here, Loki, please..”, you said. Seeing Loki cry started to get you emotional.

Loki walked over towards you and bent down in front of where you stood on his bed. He held his head up with his left hand, while the other rested on the mattress.

He looked down at you as you moved your way closer to him. The tears had come to stop, but you could see them forming in his eyes, ready to overflow and fall down his pale cheeks again.

Without thinking, you went over to his hand and hugged his finger tightly. Loki softly chuckled. He adores how you both have such a tight-knit friendship. He didn’t want anything to come in between that. Humans that are his size stay far away from him, yet, here you were, a small mortal that barely just reached the height of his thumb, comforting him.

He decided to share something with you—-something that he had never opened up about in front of another being before.

“The last time I was extremely close with someone, something horrible happened to them. That person was my mother-..”, Loki stopped dead in his sentence.

You looked up at Loki with astonishment written all over your face. Loki had talked about his mother a few times, but he never showed much emotion whenever he spoke about her.

“I um—-she and I were inseparable. Nothing ever stood between us and the love we had for each other. But-..”, Loki took a moment and exhaled deeply before continuing. “But I was the reason for her death. I had caused it. And ever since you and I had our first encounter, I—-I guess my protective side came out more stronger than I had anticipated it to.”

You had no idea what to say. Loki had never opened up so much to you and this honestly caught you off guard. Normally, you would be the one to cry on Loki’s shoulder, but now the tables have turned. You could see the tears rolling down his face, some even hitting the desk in front of you.

Loki needed someone to comfort him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay. Whenever you were in this sort of state, Loki would just hold you close, whispering sweet nothings to you, and it always helped. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. You knew exactly what to do now.

You walked around Loki’s hand and headed straight for his arm. You managed to get a grip on his leather armor that he wore and clambered your way to top of his arm. You glanced up at Loki.

He was staring at you now with tears glistening his eyes. They were red and looked swollen now, breaking your heart in two.

“L-Loki it’s okay! I-..”

Out of nowhere, you were gently scooped up by Loki’s hand and raised up. You closed your eyes, nervous if you had done something wrong. Suddenly, you were pressed against something firm and warm, but at the same time...soft. You cracked open your eyes and saw that Loki was pressing you against his cheek, his teary eyes closed.

This was new for you. You had never been this up close to Loki’s face. It was massive! You didn’t waste another second and quickly extended your arms out, trying your best to hug Loki back. Since you were pressed close to his cheek, you felt the muscles in Loki’s face move upwards. He was smiling from ear to ear.

As Loki began to break the makeshift hug, he began to speak.

“I cannot be the cause of you getting hurt—or worse. It will never happen under my watch. I shall make sure of it.”

He held you up to his eye level and gently ruffled your hair. He thought about if the next sentence he was about to say was a good idea or not. He sighed.

“I will take you outside, my dear”, said Loki, nervousness evident in his voice.

Your eyes widened. “R-Really?!”, you exclaimed. Loki simply nodded his head, a laugh escaping from him.

“Yes, but I will be keeping a close eye on you little one, alright?”, asked Loki.

You excitedly nodded your head yes and grabbed a hold of his finger to give him another hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!”, you exclaimed.

To you, Loki looked happy, but deep down, he was panicking—-a lot.

————— A few minutes later —————

Loki was a nervous wreck as he walked through Central Park. He had safely tucked you away in his pocket as he strode along the pathway, trying to find a spot that was vacant and far away from the humans that were already there.

“Loki, when can I come out?”, you said as you poked your head out of his pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of the outdoors——happiness and excitement filled you up.

“Very soon, my little dove. But for now-...”, Loki used his finger to gently push you back down into the safety of his pocket, and couldn’t help but smirk at how adorable your face looked when he did so. “...you must stay hidden. I do not want a single soul, besides myself, to see you.”

After what seemed like forever, Loki finally stumbled upon the perfect spot—-a tree with a bed of flowers planted in the grass beside it.

Loki walked up to the tree and sat down, resting his back up against the rough bark of the trunk. He sighed, knowing that you would be exposed to things ten times your size. Suddenly, the sound of your voice floated up towards Loki’s ears.

“Loki? I-Is the coast clear?”, you nervously asked. Loki was the only giant you had ever interacted with before. You hated that Loki knew how nervous you would get when other giants were around. To this day, Loki still feels bad about the time he attempted to introduce you to Thor. Tears fell down your cheeks, you clung to his shirt, and, as embarrassing as it sounds, you sobbed when Loki suggested that Thor should hold you.

After that incident with Thor, Loki made it his goal to keep you out of sight from the others that lived in the Avengers Tower. If the Avengers had ever found you and caused you to cry, he knows for a fact that he would go ballistic. No one makes his little friend cry.

“Don’t worry, Y/n. There is not one soul around us. I have made sure of it”, said Loki as he tenderly pinched your waist and hoisted you up and out of his pocket. He held you in his palm and allowed you to take in your surroundings for a moment.

“Loki..just look at it out here! It’s amazing!”, you said excitedly. The memories of the days you spent fending for yourself out here in the park all came flooding back to you.

“Can you put me down now Loki?, you said as you turned around to look at him. You jumped up and down in his hand as he held you. You could barely contain the excitement that you were feeling.

Loki gave you an uneasy look. Was this really a good idea? Had he thought this through?

When he saw the smile plastered on your face, however, he couldn’t burst your bubble and say no. You had been cooped up in the Tower now for how long. It was about time you got to experience nature again.

“Just be careful”, said Loki.

You nodded your head. “I will!”

A choppy sigh escaped his lips. “Promise?”, he asked as he brushed his finger tip over your tiny arm. He was scared to let you go.

You looked at him and smiled. “I promise, Loki. I’ll be okay.”

He paused for a moment. “Alright...I’ll take your word for it.” Loki lowered you down to the ground below.

You practically jumped off of his palm when it got close enough to the ground. You started to run around in the grass, laughing away. It was just about your height!

As Loki sat there against the tree, he took notice of how tense he became once you weren’t in his grip anymore. He thought he might’ve become paralyzed at just seeing how the grass reached your waist.

‘Calm down, she’s fine. She’s having fun and that is all that matters’, Loki thought to himself.

He watched you as you exhausted yourself. There were leaves and sticks all around, but what really caught your eye were the flowers that were next to the tree. Some of the flowers had fallen off of their stems. You, of course, made an appoint to go up to all of the flowers on the ground just to admire each one.

This is when you got an idea. You ran up to one of the fallen flowers—-a puffy-like golden one. A tiny part of the stem was sticking out from underneath it. ‘Perfect! I’ll be able to drag it over to Loki!’, you thought.

Even though you were having the time of your life, you did still feel bad about how this made Loki feel. He looked like he was about to start crying again when he put you down in the grass! You had decided to bring a flower over to him.

You grabbed a hold of the flower’s small stem and started pulling it over to where Loki was sitting. ‘This’ll cheer him up’, you thought.

Loki’s eyes never left you. He was highly confused as to why you were dragging a flower around, however, he didn’t question it and let you have your fun. But he noticed that you were bringing it over to him. ‘What is this tiny mortal up to?’ he questioned to himself.

“Hey Loki! Can you lay your hand down next to me so I could climb on it? I have a surprise for you!”, you said happily.

This caused Loki to smirk. “A surprise you say? I wonder what it could be”, he said as he chuckled. Loki did as you asked and offered you his palm.

You clambered onto his hand and pulled the flower up into the center of his palm.

Loki raised you up in front of his face and stared at you with curiosity.

“Surprise!”, you exclaimed with joy, throwing your arms in the air. Loki laughed as he looked at how out of breath you looked.

“You got this for me, Y/n?”, Loki asked. You nodded excitedly. “Thank you my little dove. I will cherish this with all my heart.”

You giggled at how formal Loki was being.

“I-I know we just got here not too long ago, but..can we head back to the tower now? I really want to listen to you read that book we started”, you said shyly. You hoped that he wouldn’t be upset with you since it was you who wanted to come to the park in the first place.

“Of course we can, small one”, Loki said. He gently brought you closer towards his chest and gently tilted his hand, causing you to slide into the empty pocket.

“Lets go home, Loki”, you said, snuggling deeper into the fabric all around you. As much as you loved being outside, you missed the quietness of Loki’s room.

Loki stood up to his towering height and began the journey back to the Tower. He could simply just teleport back to his room, but he wanted to admire the flower you had given him a little while longer. How would he have anytime to do that if he teleported? Walking would give him more time to appreciate the flower you gave him without the Avengers questioning where he had gotten it from.

He slowly stretched out the opening of his pocket and peaked down at you. He heard how your breathing had become steady and his ears picked up on the light snores coming from your sleeping form. You had fallen asleep in a matter of seconds.

He smiled as he closed the opening of the pocket to let you rest. Loki held the flower close to his chest as he walked home with you safely tucked away.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all”, Loki said quietly.

————————————————————————-

@rose7420 I am so sorry it took me so long to write this!🥺💗

I hope you liked it! ❤️❤️

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