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hoseoksluna · 6 months

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LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for.

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift.

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too.

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed.

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight.

You couldn’t.

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair.

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words.

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely.

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis.

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed.

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.”

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it.

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.”

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable.

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?”

You exhaled, he inhaled.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek.

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in.

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.”

Your body panics, but you will it to relax.

“Does that come with the premium subscription?”

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps.

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms.

“I get to take Bam?”

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?”

Probably not. Definitely not.

“But what about Bam?”

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words.

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.”

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell.

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it.

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.”

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly.

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows.

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead.

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it.

Jungkook groans.

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity.

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back.

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body.

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers.

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline.

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it.

You want him.

It began with a ring and ended right here.

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled.

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss.

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t.

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago.

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you.

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper.

Jungkook grips your waist hard.

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy.

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples.

“Kiss me, then.”

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth.

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step.

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.”

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles.

“Bam, house.”

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that.

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him.

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.”

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him.

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists.

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.”

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?”

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them.

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list.

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course.

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.”

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.”

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting.

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?”

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact.

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?”

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties.

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.”

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.”

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.”

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself.

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him.

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears.

No attachment, no liking.

Just sex.

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm.

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted.

You broke him.

And now you have to face the repercussions.

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal.

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all.

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.”

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have.

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it.

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break.

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in.

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm.

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is.

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid.

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening.

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning.

A lump forms in your throat.

“You sure about this?” he asks.

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship.

Flowery or deceitful?

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.”

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you.

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps.

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.”

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.”

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened.

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum.

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him.

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun.

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin.

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing.

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself.

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long.

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?”

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice.

“Of course I trust you.”

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.”

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline.

“Are you scared?”

You’re an empty canvas.

“Not anymore.”

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?”

“Okay.”

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?”

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.”

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt.

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set.

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy.

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks.

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.”

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie.

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?”

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?”

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod.

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child.

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs.

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red.

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them.

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach.

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?”

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.”

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?”

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy.

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features.

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good.

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.”

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens.

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs.

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you.

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear. “How do you touch yourself?”

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat.

Jungkook sees you.

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer.

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind.

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax.

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side.

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise.

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips.

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you.

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.”

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you.

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around.

“Feels good, baby?”

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.”

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.”

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring.

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?”

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted.

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff.

“Did so well for me.”

The whisper takes you back and you awake.

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good.

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?”

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change.

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.”

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth.

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy.

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks.

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration.

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.”

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is.

Musk, vanilla, wood.

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout.

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew.

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.”

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?”

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do.

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos.

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts.

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully.

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?”

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.”

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number.

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?”

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.”

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare.

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him.

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?”

You nod. “So bad.”

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough.

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?”

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.”

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?”

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.”

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance.

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth.

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him.

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again.

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go.

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge.

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore.

Neither, evidently, can he.

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands.

So vulnerable.

You ache.

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head.

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth.

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets.

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny.

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head.

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.”

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan.

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind.

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin.

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?”

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it.

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans.

“Talk to me.”

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk.

He stares you down.

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling.

“I won’t play with you, then.”

Panic. “No.”

He cocks a brow at you. “No?”

Silence.

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm.

“Jungkook.”

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs.

“Beg.”

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you.

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You groan in frustration.

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.”

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it.

“Where?”

A challenge. Your throat dries up.

“There.”

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that.

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.”

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone.

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that.

“Lick my clit, please.”

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.

“Like this?”

You choke out a moan.

“Yes, please.”

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?”

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy.

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.”

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you.

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens.

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you.

Daddy and little girl.

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls.

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror.

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat.

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.”

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell.

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?”

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin.

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed.

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens.

“But what if it doesn’t fit?”

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake.

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.”

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected.

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him.

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow.

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head.

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him.

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.”

You nod, trusting him.

He pecks you. Smiles.

“How many orgasms are we at?”

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?”

“You obliterated my expectations.”

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.”

You blush, eyes twinkling.

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.”

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad.

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness.

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss.

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel.

“I don’t stop coming.”

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?”

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?”

You scoff. “Just one.”

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?”

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently.

He didn’t break his promise.

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides.

And there you feel it.

The sensation unlike any other.

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?”

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms.

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.”

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come.

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you.

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?”

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep.

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth.

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much.

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.”

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam.

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.”

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.”

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak.

“Please, come for me.”

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?”

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.”

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat.

Jungkook grunts.

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.”

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length.

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all.

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way.

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all.

“Good girl. Good little princess.”

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?”

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes.

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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pastryfication · 2 months

Note

Can you please do one with shy!reader x Oscar? Reader has chronic pain, but hates asking for help with things, especially simple things (showering, eating, changing, etc)

Ignore if you're not comfortable with this request ❤️

hi thank you so much for the request! i hope it reaches your expectations 🫶🫶

chronic pain | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x shy!reader

warnings: mentions of chronic pain.

the bathroom was warm and misty, the scent of your favourite body wash mingling with the steam rising from the hot shower. you had managed to get undressed and into the shower on your own, a small triumph on a day where the pain was especially relentless.

as you stood under the shower head, the water cascaded over your shoulders, providing a fleeting sense of relief. you leaned against the wall, trying to muster the strength to continue. the stabbing pain in your back wasn’t about to ruin your day once again, you were adamant about that, but your legs felt like jelly, and your hands started to tremble with fatigue.

you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. in an attempt to reach for the soap, your grip faltered, and it slipped from your fingers, hitting the tiled floor with a loud clatter. panic surged through you as you realized you couldn't bend down to retrieve it. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t make yourself bend down to pick it up.

the sound of the soap hitting the floor must have echoed through the apartment, because moments later, you heard the soft knock on the bathroom door.

"baby? are you okay in there?" oscar’s voice was gentle, but concern laced his words. you hated that he had to worry about you, hated that you had to rely on him for help with the simplest things. but today, the pain was unbearable.

"i’m fine," you called back, trying to keep your voice steady, but it came out weak and unconvincing. you hoped he wouldn't press further, but you knew oscar better than that.

the door creaked open, and through the steam, you saw his silhouette. he hesitated at the threshold, respecting your privacy but unwilling to leave you struggling. "are you sure? i think i heard something fall."

you sighed inaudible, feeling the weight of your pride and embarrassment. "i just . . . i dropped the soap. i can get it. just give me a minute."

oscar stepped closer, slowly moving aside the shower curtain to get a full view of you, and his gaze softened when he saw your strained expression. "love, it's okay to need help. let me."

his voice was soothing, filled with unwavering support, but you shook your head, stubbornness mingling with your discomfort. "oscar, i don't want to be a burden. i can do it."

he knelt beside the tub, his presence reassuring and calm as he gave you a gentle smile. "you could never be a burden to me, love. i'm happy to help, however you need."

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of frustration and gratitude. "i just feel so . . . useless sometimes."

oscar frowned at your words, his hand reaching out and gently taking your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "you're not useless. you're strong, and dealing with this pain every day takes so much courage. but even the strongest people need help sometimes. let me be here for you."

you hesitated, the vulnerability of accepting his help weighing heavily on you, but the sincerity in his eyes broke through your defences. slowly, you nodded, allowing him to assist you.

oscar carefully guided you to sit on the edge of the tub, then picked up the soap and lathered it between his hands. with tender care, he began washing your back, his touch light and comforting. you closed your eyes, letting yourself relax for the first time that day.

as he helped you rinse off, his gentle words filled the space. "i'm always here for you. no matter what. so please, ask me for help next time?"

you hesitated for a moment before nodding, agreeing to his words. maybe asking him for help wasn’t the worst idea when the feeling of his tender touch against your skin was so comforting. maybe you could allow him to help a bit more if it meant sharing intimate moments like these.

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ohproserpine · 7 months

Text

for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.

synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose tags: fem! reader, married couple, blood&injuries, demi alastor, suggestive/steamy, just a short kinda bad drabble to break my writer's block, ooc-ish alastor, soft alastor at first, vox mentioned don't like? don't interact.

"Cher!"

Alastor greeted you with a smile, his lips curved into a charming yet slightly crooked grin that softened the rugged edges of his appearance.

Leaning against the door frame, he looked every bit the rogue hunter returning from a hunt. His once-neat attire bore tears, burns, and scratches, with both knees of his pants ripped and scuffed thin. His monocle hung loosely on his chest, the glass broken and shards glinting in the light. Tousled strands of crimson hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing his rugged features, while a trickle of blood from the cut on his lips dripped down his chin, staining his deathly pale skin.

"Christ!" You jolted off the hotel bed, propelled into action by concern, your heart racing with worry. You began running around, collecting towels, extra clothes, and a first aid kit in a frantic rush.

Alastor moved into the room and stood in the very center, observing your frenzied activity with an amused smirk.

Finally, with all your materials in hand, you rushed to your husband's side, your footsteps echoing against the cold carpet.

"What happened to you?" you asked, filled with concern as you assessed his injuries, your eyes scanning his form for any more signs of distress.

"Just a little scuffle on the hunt, my doe," he replied with a cheer in his tone, spinning his staff in his hand. "Came across a feisty, moronic beast. But nothing I couldn't handle."

"A scuffle?" Disbelief colored your voice as you got on your tiptoes, straining to reach up and dab at the blood on his chin with a damp towel.

Alastor grinned down at you, his eyes tracing your features with tenderness. Always such a pretty view, but seeing you so domestic and sweet for him made him begin to feel hot below the collar. Leaning down, he reached out to sweep a stray strand of hair from your eyes, his long, sharp claws grazing against your skin.

"That can wait," his voice crackled with low static as he pulled you flush against him, chest against chest. "I've missed you dearly."

“Good heavens, Alastor, you’re insatiable,” you chided him playfully with a swat, though the warmth in your tone betrayed your affection. Your fingers lightly brushed against the rough fabric of his torn shirt as you urged him to let you continue tending to his injuries. "Let me fix you up first."

Alastor's ears twitched back as he rolled his eyes at you, but his grip remained firm as he pulled you closer and closer until you were practically dragged towards the bed, falling into his lap with a gentle thud.

"Love," you began to protest, but before you could continue, he silenced you with a deep kiss pressed upon your lips, a low chuckle vibrating against your own, melting any further protest.

He drew back briefly, only to dive back in, his lips tracing a delicate path along your neck. With a familiarity born of passion, his hands roamed, each touch igniting a cascade of sensations that threatened to consume you both.

"Al," you whimpered, unable to resist the intoxicating allure of his touch. As his lips began to trail up your jawline, you found yourself melting into his arms, the tension of the earlier encounter gradually dissipating in the heat of the moment.

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound echoing in the room, as he threw off his ruined coat and loosened the tie around his neck. Gripping onto your hips with a firm hold, he all but threw you off his lap and onto the bed.

The smug bastard. He knew all too well that his affections could smooth over any trouble he found himself in.

"Alastor," you murmured, your senses cutting through the haze of desire, "We really should attend to your wounds first."

Alastor began to move towards you, his claws digging through and tearing the mattress beneath him. "In due time, my heart."

"I am serious," you insisted, ignoring the wide smile you received in return. Alastor merely hummed, a low, melodic sound, as he moved to press himself against you, encasing you in an embrace that felt simultaneously comforting and confining.

You leveled him with a glare. Gritting your teeth, you continued, "What did you even do? I know damn well you didn't get these," you gestured to the charred edges of his shirt, "from an animal."

"Well, dearest, it was from an overlord meeting. You understand how tense politics can become," Alastor countered with a laugh.

"Bushwa," you scowled, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I know a lie when I see one."

"Rather accusatory," Alastor hummed, his tone dismissive.

"Well, I apologize for worrying about my husband, who looks to be on the verge of collapse any moment now," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice.

"So enough of this," you scolded, your expression hardening. "What did you do?"

"What was necessary," Alastor scoffed, a mirthless chuckle following.

"I'd say he deserved it. You should have seen the way he looks at you," he continued, his voice low and tinged with a hint of warning, the air around him crackling with static.

"Who?" you asked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "There are plenty of people. Plenty of looks."

"Don't act as if you don't notice that pompous television bastard hanging around the hotel nowadays," Alastor's voice crackled with dark intensity, the radio static grew stronger, prickling against your skin and nearly making his words incoherent.

So this is what it's about?

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Alastor's jealousy, though a small part of you felt a flicker of flattery at his protectiveness.

Your husband's irritation simmered beneath the surface, evident in the subtle set of his jaw and the way his normally smug gaze turned icy. But a mischievous spark ignited within you, tempting you to push his buttons just a bit further, to dance dangerously close to the edge of his patience.

"Are you talking about Vox?" you asked with a smirk playing at your lips. Tilting your head coyly, you met Alastor's gaze with a glint of mischief in your eyes. Your voice was laced with honeyed sarcasm, dripping like molten gold from your lips.

His expression darkened at the mention, a flicker of raw anger crossing his features before he regained his composure.

"You know well who I'm talking about," Alastor's grin was uncanny, his voice carrying the same tone you'd heard the night he faced death. "Don't toy with me."

Despite the seriousness of his tone, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. A playful smile danced on your lips as you reached out, gripping onto his tie and pulling him closer, closing the distance between you with a pull.

“What if I found him charming?” you breathed out against his lips, your voice a tantalizing whisper as you ran your hands up the fabric of his undershirt. Your touch was featherlight, fingers smoothing down the wrinkles of his torn button-up with a teasing caress. “I might have let him have me right then and there.”

A sudden sharp pierce of a distorted screech, like a radio malfunctioning, cut through the air, shattering the moment. Claws flying up to grip your face, Alastor broke the kiss and stared down at you with glowing blood-red eyes, their intensity piercing through you. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight, your heart pounding in your ears as you were overcome by a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Alastor called out your name. It was the first time you had heard him utter it in a while. Throughout the years, he had always addressed you by endearing nicknames, leaving you half-convinced that he had forgotten your actual name.

But as the sound of fell from his lips, despite the danger, you found yourself yearning to hear it once more, to feel the weight of your name on his tongue.

"My sweet," Alastor tutted, a screech of radio feedback following him as he cupped your neck in one hand, guiding your gaze back to him. His touch was possessive, firm, and demanding, akin to the control of a puppeteer manipulating his marionette.

"Never utter such words again," he growled softly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His grip tightened ever so slightly, sharpened claws a warning of the consequences should you dare to defy him. "No one else shall lay claim to you."

With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his dominance. "And what if I refuse?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the fear that coiled in your belly.

Alastor's lips curled into a manic grin, his canines shining beneath the lights of the room, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leaned in closer.

"Then you shall suffer the consequences."

#have this shite drabble sorry for no writing :P i had a competition yesterday and the results come out today + i have prom tonight lolol #sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin vox

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nmyphomania · 11 months

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ [Kinktober Day 12: Exhibitionism]

Summary: He appoints his closest advisors to watch him raw dog you the night of your wedding.

Warning(s): F! Reader, exhibitionism, finger sucking, snowballing?, spit as lube, oral sex (f. receiving), full nelson, doggystyle, mouth spitting, rough sex, sloppy kissing, vaginal fingering, choking, squirting, breeding but only a lil bit, cervix kissing, public bedding ceremony, handjob (f. receiving), possessive Zuko, not proofread

WC: 2.6k+

•𑁍•

Your mouths were on each other in an instant, leaving no room to waste time in front of the four political advisors in the room with the both of you. Tongues flicked out, circling the bland taste of saliva that glossed over the surfaces of pink. It was so uncomfortably hot in the room, it was hard to differentiate whether it was from you and Zuko getting busy, or if it was the intense stares from the four accompanying people inside the chamber.

Zuko licked a deep stripe up the inside of your mouth, grabbing the back of your neck to hold you still into his demanding kiss. Pressing a firm thumb against the crook of your neck, urging your head to the side, leaving hot, wet trails smacking onto the surface of porcelain skin. The way he cradled you in his arms was so dreamy it enhanced the scent of subtle arousal dancing in the air of the room.

A sudden turn in events of Zuko now bending you over the side of the mattress of the bed, growing ravenous by all passing moments of this small gathering. Leaning to hover over your form lying on the mattress below, he stared into one of the male advisors’ eyes whilst swiftly undoing the careless knot in your robes. Your clothes were immediately snatched bare from your helpless body, leaving you to yelp in surprise at the state you were now left in, now a sight for four pairs of wildly unfamiliar eyes.

“You all want to see me fuck her don’t you?”

His suggestive voice alas cut the deathly silent interior of the room, the man in particular shifted around in his breeches, swallowing thickly at his lord’s unprecedented words. Yanking at the back of the latches that fastened your bra together, it slapped back down, leaving a fleeting sting to burn on the surface of your back. He scoffed, pushing you forward with his clothed hips to spur you on the bed completely.

Of course you still wore on your undergarments, the intimate clothing clinging to your frame so endearingly, no doubt in Zuko’s mind that the other four were growing hot in their pants over you. Yeah he could be jealous and petty all he pleased, but these perverts loved tradition and were as passionate about it as anything else. You know they would never, ever, admit how hungry they were for the scene before them to unfold further, fearing their firelord’s judgemental remarks about their dignity. It’s obvious as the sun in the sky on a clear day, but he guessed he could be a little less, mean. Making work of his own clothes by sliding off his own deep red robes off of his broad shoulders, he seems over this whole situation already.

You situated the lower half of your body up in the air for him, assuming the position in front of him on the bed as he undressed. Now he was only covered up by his own pair of pants that contained his painfully hard sex, straining just behind his fly. Taking his index finger, he dragged down your underwear so damningly slow it irked you. Your clit was then sandwiched between his two rugged fingers, stroking steadily in up and down patterns. Zuko took in how very apparent you were when you would grow more and more wet for him, relishing everything that came out of your body by messily massaging your damp pussy then giving it a teasing slap.

“Already? I barely even touched you.”

Those words sent shivers of embarrassment cascading down the longevity of your back. A few breathy sighs from you being rubbed down on your core in between your thighs, leaving you to run your tongue over you lips before going to bite down on the bottom one. He placed his free hand to thumb over your other entrance as he eased his hand around to prep you for his sudden intrusion. It pressed so deliciously on the resistant ring of muscles, it sent every firm press straight down to take effect below.

Small droplets strayed away from your arousal, sounds of wet suctioning from humping along the roughness of his palm urged your eyes backward, flattening out his hand nearly drove you to insanity. Your ears were filled with cotton, even delirium whining out for him to keep going or right there. Body nearly lurching from the intensity of his palm thrusting on it repeatedly, more so perfectly wiping the top of your cunt where the most nerves seemed to reside.

Zuko gave no warning, suddenly grabbing your right shoulder, pressing you down on his experienced pointer fingers without taking any mind to your tightness. Flinging your head up only to meet the heated stares from the four men that advised your husband’s actions, a distressed noise of surprise was eased out in their direction. His fingers curled inside somehow angling accurately on the oozing spot that was the center of your pleasure. Feeling the blunt tips of his finger rutting into you with the help of his left hand levering you back into them by keeping an unwavering hold on the curve in the middle of your shoulder and neck.

Bucking back to counter the precise movements of his fingers made you squirt all over the digits and the sheets, heat flooded over the expanse of your face for growing so needy. Especially in front of the guests present in you two’s shared chamber. Swirls, turns, and spins danced in the base of your convulsing stomach, pulling yourself impossibly tighter to embrace his knuckles within the confines of your greedy pussy. Words fell amidst the chain of incoherent moans that just wouldn’t stay deep inside your chest, not even properly able to register them in the heat of the moment.

“Zuko?” You gasped out, hand flying to find his hand, in an attempt to grab onto something, or some part of his body that could be found within any means of reach. Shoving in another two digits drawed out a foul keen rooted from the depths of your diaphragm. Being so full led you to fall down back forward, pressing your face flush against the crimson sheets to drool out whatever your brain could come up with. Toes curling, body jerking away and struggling from overstimulation, pleas in every type of sound possible. Goodness you were a mess underneath him, you couldn’t even think to compose yourself to have some decorum, but Zuko made it so damn hard. On the crumbling edge of a worthy finish, your eyes snapped open, wild with desperation to find his hand and push him in deeper.

Zuko wasn’t having it, he didn’t like being rushed no matter how much you begged for something deeper or faster; he went at his own set pace. Everything he did had a reason even if he didn’t directly tell you, that’s law for everyone involved with him. Including you. He took your wrist and pinned it down on your back as a warning for moving too fast, a hum of disapproval was met with your hurried actions.

“Stay. There. Don’t get impatient.”

That low warning sent you over the edge, with him burying his digits down to the knuckle to make your finish bubble up and out of her more than stretched out opening. He smoothed his fingers out of you with a small suction noise from her walls bordering him inside securely, moving the four to grip the interior heat of her mouth. You sucked vigorously, lapping and savoring and cleaning every drop of yourself off of his digits longingly.

Easing himself down onto his knees to meet the sight of your gaping pussy from the earlier entry, he began to make out loudly, smacking his lips from kissing your worked lips, and fixating on sucking all of your cum from out of you. You moaned around his fingers, taking in the sweet wet sensation of his tongue hooking and retreating continuously between your folds. He welcomed it to drip from the capacity of his mouth, sliding down from either side of his strong jaw.

Groaning in a mix of adoration and satisfaction from the taste and sopping wet mess on his face, he’d drain everything from inside of you that spewed unashamedly, holding the fluid in his mouth for a moment. Before you could react to his finger being freed from your mouth, a slap landed on the bottom of your ass, startling the men across the room from the filthy spell the two of you put them under. Their hearts beat so hard they all thought it’d come right out of their chests, it was so heated in the room, the smell of sex already settling in their nose before even getting to the real part of all of this.

His eyes caught sight of your bra that was latched onto your body around your upper half after all this time, saliva-slicken hand going to lightly tug the fabric, prompting you to take the clothing item off. A pair of pretty, pedicured hands reached to teasingly undo the latches in a way that’ll test Zuko’s patience, a way to get back at him for not allowing her to be needy herself. They fondled with the back hooks, slowly coming undone for his prying eyes to watch over. The man decided to waste no time with you, ridding himself of his own pants to work towards a mutually pleasing moment.

The slightly taut clothes were removed from his body to fully reveal himself confidently to everyone in the room, and once all of the buckles on your bra were undid, he never snatched something off you faster in his life. In fact, he grabbed you by your neck to force you off of the bed on all fours and positioned his pulsating length just outside your gasping orifice.

Sucking in his cheeks to gather up all of her juices he drank in from her previously, Zuko leaned backwards to intricately spit out the substance over the surface of his cock to easily slip inside of you. Breeching past your loose and slicken up hole, he let a loud groan utter past his lips and into the thickened air of the chamber’s atmosphere. Both of your heaving breaths came together in sync as the both of your bodies met each other at an accelerating pace, every thrust punched out shared pants and curses of all sorts. Sweat trickled across the vastness of each other’s skin, cores burning with an urgency that was unmatched and burned a heat the couple could ever understand.

Going to rest over on his forearm on one side of her body below resting all of his weight in that one arm, he made quick use of the opposing hand to strain around her neck to pull her into a discordant kiss. His mouth nearly went dry at her clenching walls cornering him in inside, Zuko could barely conjure up a petty wad of saliva to share back into her mouth just before parting away from the kiss

Holding her up by keeping a hold on the length of her neck, he shifted impatiently to shove the crest of his dick in to hit the very middle of her stomach cruelly. Your wails wantonly hurt to cry out due to the pressure of his hands on your neck, it was so much all at once you could sob. Not much air came in through your windpipe, maybe once you’d get a good intake of air to support your noises of pure rapture. It never appeared to phase him, the raunchy roll of his hips caused one of the men on the adjacent side of the room to pass out from locking his knees in place. That didn’t seem to phase him either.

Nothing would ever take his gaze away from your red laden eyes, glittering up at him with a quiet beg for some type of mercy on your body. Those lips were parted screaming all of her thoughts, obscenities, his name. Like a chant, he didn’t want to ever stop pleasing you, making you cry, it was his motivation to continue to be your center of ecstasy. The vibrations of her strangled whines went nowhere but straight to his dick, making him twitch violently in the midst of your body he knew best. Better than the back of his hand he knew how to read you, how to ruin you just right for the entertainment of his advisors.

“You’re….you’re gorgeous. You’re all mine- I-.”

He could hardly utter the praise beyond a hoarse whisper, letting your neck loose from his crazed grip. Pulling out immediately made you exhale wholly, releasing the air that rested within your throat, you took advantage of the fact that you now could take a simple breather until he decided what else to do to you.

You were gently pulled up by your elbow, leading you to the front of the bed, enhancing the firelord’s men's view over the vulgar scene unraveling in front of them. She was pulled into his lap, face barely flushed with a red present all over her body, sweat drenched and all of her naked glory. The both of them adjusted into a rather dissolute position, his length now resting once more inside of her cunt, Zuko locked her legs back with the strength of his arms all the way until they were straddling her own upper half. Her entirety was on display to the four men, the two’s connection was undeniable and now formally presented to them.

You could barely take the situation, all of your active thoughts were drained out of you the second you started to squirt uncontrollably. The world spun dizzyingly in your head as Zuko fucked you from underneath, to spread your oozing walls all over him. A pair of soft lips you were so familiar with crashed on the side of your face and trailed down to the crook of your neck, bringing you down from the temporary high created from feeling the crest of what physical euphoria felt like.

He panted loudly at the knots pulling together tighter any time he’d throw his hips up to jolt back into her, stomach clenching hard to keep up his consistent rhythm. That jet black hair of his clung to his forehead, now damp and even mused from the work he put his body through that night.

“Mine, mine, all mine. I promised to fuck her didn’t I?” A rhetorical question restated to himself while his head craned back to display the compelling reddened flesh of his neck. Rough, and gritty his voice happened to be reduced down to, he virtually gave a half-assed whine from bottoming out in his movements just moments leading up to his overloading finish.

Losing yourself to the scent of sex and the renewed humidity of the room, you didn’t realize you and him came at the same time, him doing it so deep, coating the surroundings of his steadily softening shaft, pushing in a few more times before lowering your aching legs down to rest. They felt like complete jelly, nothing could possibly get you to stand up from the events of your honeymoon night.

One of the advisors tried to swallow down a large lump created in his throat, going to speak up in the moment of silence. He bowed for the rest of the group of men, showing his still foregoing respect towards the Firelord and wife, the now declared Firelady.

“The marriage process is now complete, congratulations to the newly wedded royal couple.”

•𑁍•

Tags:

#kinktober 2023 #zuko x reader #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #fanfic #fire lord zuko #zuko smut #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #atla #[𝐧𝐦𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚®]#atla fanfic #not proofread

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vipetas · 6 months

Text

hide and seek

Heart racing, you gently eased the closet door shut, nestling yourself deeper inside of it. With a hand pressed over your mouth to stifle your breaths, you strained to hear any approaching footsteps.

Silence enveloped the room, and you allowed yourself to breathe a soft sigh of relief. This was a good hiding spot, you thought to yourself. Surely, he’ll never find–

“Oh, darling! Where are you?”

Your hand instinctively shot back to cover your mouth. Shit, how did he know to look for you in this room?

You held your breath, listening intently. Before long, you heard it: the slow, deliberate approach of footsteps. Each one seemed to echo the pounding of your heart as you braced yourself for the closet doors to be flung open.

Yet, it never happened. Instead, three soft knocks on the closet's doors signaled his presence on the other side. You pressed farther back into the closet, trying desperately to remain unnoticed, but it was too late.

“There you are!” Alastor's voice rang out as he swung open both doors. As light flooded into the cramped space, you met his gaze, a mix of annoyance and amusement crossing your features

“Alastor!” you scolded in a hushed tone, careful not to attract further attention. “You cheater, how did you find me?”

With a chuckle, the Radio Demon grinned wider as he leaned against the door frame.

“Why, darling, I simply followed the sound of your beating heart. It led me right to you. Quite the delightful melody, if I do say so myself.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed any irritation you might've felt. “Alright, Romeo, fair enough,” you quipped as you stood up, brushing off your clothes.

Alastor responded with a playful wink, extending his hand towards you as an offer to help you out of the closet. You accepted, feeling a subtle thrill course through you as your fingers intertwined. It was a sensation that had become familiar, one that never failed to stir something within you. Just as you were about to comment on it, the moment was abruptly cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps.

In an instant, Alastor swiftly pushed you back into the closet, joining you inside before you could even react.

The confined space of the closet felt even smaller with both of you squeezed inside, pressed close together to accommodate for the lack of room. In the dim light, your gaze met Alastor's, and he placed a finger to his lips, motioning for you to remain quiet. You nodded, your heart fluttering ever so slightly not just from the fear of being discovered but also from his proximity.

Still, you waited, holding your breath. Each second seemed to stretch into eternity, but after a moment, you heard someone gingerly enter the room. It wasn't unexpected, but what caught you off guard was the sudden voice that shattered the stillness.

“Hello? Is anyone in here?” Charlie called out, her tone carrying a playful curiosity.

Alastor, ever perceptive, sensed the gasp rising in your throat. With a swift movement, his hands slid to your sides, pulling you even closer to him. His lips hovered just inches away from yours, barely brushing against them as he whispered, “Stay calm, my dear.”

For a moment, you forgot about the game, about the risk of being caught. As Charlie's voice lingered in the air, Alastor's grip on you tightened subtly, sending a delightful cascade of shivers down your spine. The way he held your gaze was both unnerving and intoxicating, and you felt yourself melting as his fingers began tracing the curve of your sides, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake.

In turn, your own hands sought solace in the fabric of his suit, fingers curling around the material. As you leaned into his embrace, you purposefully brushed your lips against his again in an almost kiss, and a low, deep hum rumbled from within Alastor’s chest.

You could feel his frustration, palpable even with the scant distance separating you. It was a gap neither of you could ensure for a moment longer.

But reality came crashing back down as Charlie’s voice pierced through the silence again.

“Hello! I know somebody’s in here!” She said, her presence looming larger as she continued to search the room. Her movements became increasingly frantic as she searched behind curtains and under the bed, leaving you with the unsettling certainty that the closet would be her next target.

Glancing back at Alastor, you were somewhat surprised to find his gaze still fixed solely on you, seemingly unconcerned with Charlie's search outside. His hands suddenly left your sides, and you found yourself missing his touch. But before you could dwell on the absence for long, they found a new resting place, cradling the back of your head with a possessiveness that both startled and thrilled you.

Without warning, he closed the gap between you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that bordered on primal. It was a stark departure from his usual gentleness, leaving you momentarily bewildered by the sudden intensity. Yet as the kiss deepened, any thoughts of protest were quickly swept away by the overwhelming heat rising between you.

Eagerly, you opened your mouth for him, craving the sensation of his claim, and claim you he did. Pulling your hair back as if he couldn’t get close enough, his tongue brushed against yours, sending waves of pleasure that shot through your veins, setting every nerve ablaze with desire. Lost in the dizzying sensation, your body acted on its own accord as it arched into his touch, your bodies melding together seamlessly. Each curve and contour fit together perfectly, as if they were two halves of the same whole.

As the moment's intensity threatened to peak, you suddenly heard the soft creak of the outside door opening. Your heart lurched in your chest, and you instinctively pulled away from Alastor, eyes wide as you fixated on the crack of the closet door, where a sliver of light seeped through.

Alastor, however, remained unperturbed. His lips trailed kisses across your jaw, his hands returning to your sides with a firm grip that pooled your insides with warmth. Despite the interruption, you found yourself melting into his touch, your arms wrapping around his neck as you surrendered to his desires, even as a part of your mind remained on high alert.

“Hey, did you find anyone?” Vaggie’s voice rang out.

The sound of her footsteps drew closer, accompanied by Charlie's response. “No luck yet, Vaggie. But I'm sure they're hiding somewhere around here.”

“Did you check the closet?”

The innocent question sliced through the air like a blade, catching you off guard. Every fiber of your being urged you to break away from Alastor, to regain control of the situation before it spiraled further out of hand. But as you struggled to gather your thoughts, Alastor's lips crashed against yours once more, effectively drowning out your protests.

“Alastor,” you whispered urgently against his mouth, your attempts to push him away met with stubborn resistance. Despite your efforts, he remained as sturdy as a brick wall, his fervent kiss consuming you with an intensity that left you powerless to resist.

“I didn’t!” Charlie gasped, and in the next instant, the unmistakable sound of their approach shattered any remaining pleasure you felt. Desperation flooded through you as you attempted to push Alastor away once more, but he only seemed to draw impossibly nearer, enveloping you in an almost suffocating embrace as his tongue boldly invited itself into your mouth.

This is it, you thought. You’d never hear the end of being caught in such an embarrassing situation. You could already feel heat rushing to your cheeks as you struggled between surrendering to Alastor’s intoxicating taste and preserving your dignity.

Bracing yourself for the inevitable, you tightly shut your eyes.

However, embarrassment never came. Instead, you felt a sudden shift, like being caught in a whirlwind of energy. Colors blurred and twisted around you, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as if your very essence was being pulled apart at the seams. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the sensation ceased, and you found yourself standing in Alastor’s radio tower, his hands still resting upon you.

“You're such a cheater!” You playfully scolded, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge with your hand.

“Cheater? Me?” Alastor replied with mock innocence, his grin widening as he shrugged nonchalantly. “I merely... bent the rules to my advantage.”

With a shake of your head, you chuckled softly, finding it impossible to stay upset with him for too long. “Well, you certainly have a knack for bending them,” you commented with a smile.

“Would you prefer that I bend you?”

Alastor's remark sent your heart racing, your cheeks warming at the implication. Emboldened by the rush of adrenaline, you closed the distance between you, your fingertips lightly grazing his cheeks as you brought your lips tantalizingly close to his.

“Maybe I would,” you replied, the words barely a whisper. Alastor chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin as his hand slipped to the small of your back.

“Well then, my dear,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive whisper. “Let's see just how much you can handle.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor/reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel fluff #kinda steamy ig?

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callme-holly · 7 months

Note

could you maybe please do some scenarios for (y/n) comforting sodapop, Dallas, ponyboy, and Johnny if you want please. also could you please make the reader fem please and thank you

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 [𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧, 𝐒𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬, 𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐝𝐞.]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - im a little behind on requets but im getting there! i've got my final exam of this week tomorrow and then i'll be a lot speedier, i promise. asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 1.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mentions of fighting, getting jumped and small injury detail

Dallas Winston - The room is quiet as you card your fingers through Dallas’ hair, the greaser’s head resting against your thigh. His eyes are closed, and there's a nasty bruise blossoming on his cheekbone, accompanied by a few bloodied scrapes that he refuses to let you clean. There’s dried blood crusted beneath his nose, which you wipe away gently with the pad of your thumb, humming softly under your breath as he breathes out a low, soft groan. “You alright?” Your tone is barely above a whisper as you tug at the ends of his mussy locks, pushing them back from his face. He blinks once or twice, his eyelashes fanning against his cheeks, and his expression is a little less pained than it was just minutes ago. “Yeah,” he murmurs after a moment, “fine.” He shifts a little bit so that his head is now more firmly planted upon your lap, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer in a half embrace. You reach down between the two of you and retrieve the ice pack that is sitting forgotten beside you, pressing it against his swollen cheek once more. He makes a disgruntled noise but doesn't open his eyes again. “Sorry 'bout this.” His voice is rough, strained from the exertion: “Y' shouldn't have to take care of me all the damn time.” The words fall heavy between the two of you as he speaks, and you smile softly, shaking your head. “It ain't too much trouble, really.” You rub small circles against his bicep, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “And besides...” your voice drops to an almost conspiratorial murmur, “I like taking care of you. It makes me feel better when I know you're not lying dead in a ditch somewhere.” He gives you a lopsided grin at that, eyes still closed. “You've got so much faith in me, doll.” Your smile widens, feeling something twist inside of you. You take his hand, squeezing it gently before pressing a quick kiss to his busted-up knuckles. “Whatever.”

Sodapop Curtis - A small sigh leaves your lips as Soda buries his face in your chest, arms wrapped tightly around your middle, tears cascading down his cheeks as he struggles for air. It pains you to see him like this, his usual bright smile replaced with a look of pure anguish, silent sobs racking his body. You rub slow circles against his back, mumbling soft words of reassurance into his ear as he clings to your shirt. “I don’t understand,” he gasps, his voice thick with emotion. “Why can't they just get along? They never used to be like this. A shudder runs through him, and you tighten your hold on him, rocking him a bit back and forth as he cries. “Shh, Soda, hey, you need to breathe,” you murmur soothingly, combing your fingers through his hair. “You’re gonna make yourself sick.” You press a soft kiss to the top of his head, hushing him quietly as his cries gradually abate. “I just want them to get along.” Soda whispers brokenly, burying his face against your collarbones. “I'm tired of being made to pick sides. I don't wanna be in the middle all the time.” You hum sympathetically, shifting slightly so that you can wrap both arms around him and pull him as close as physically possible. Soda melts into your touch, relaxing fully against you. You can tell he's exhausted, both emotionally and physically. "I hate it.” He sounds miserable. “All they do is yell at each other. Darry is way too hard on Pony, and Pony's trying his hardest, but he can only take so much–" Soda stops abruptly, his breath hitched in his throat as another sob tears from him, wracking his body. His grip tightens around your middle and your heart clenches painfully at the sight. “I just want things to go back to normal.” You give a slow nod, closing your eyes. “I know, I know. It'll be okay.” You press another gentle kiss to his temple and run your hands slowly up and down his spine, trying to offer as much comfort as you can. He relaxes under your touch, melting further into you as he tries to take deep, steady breaths, struggling to control himself. You tilt his chin up so that he's looking at you once more, running your thumb over his cheek. “I love you, you know” “Mm,” he hums, blinking rapidly to rid his vision of the last remnants of tears. His eyes meet yours, and even though his gaze is glassy and filled with sadness and pain, his expression is soft and tender. “Love you too.”

Ponyboy Curtis - You're sitting in the lot, your jacket pulled tightly around you, when you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. You stiffen and turn sharply, expecting to see a group of drunken socs or the odd greaser looking for trouble, only to come face to face with none other than Ponyboy Curtis. He has tears streaming down his cheeks, his hair mused as he all but throws himself at you, shoulders shaking and chest heaving. You don’t speak a word as you pull him into your arms, rubbing your hands over his shoulders in an attempt to calm him. His head comes to rest on your shoulder, one fist clutching the front of your sweater as tight as possible, the other hanging uselessly by his side. For several moments, he sits in silence, letting you hold him while he finally manages to collect himself. Then he pulls back, wiping furiously at his face. “Sorry…” You don’t miss the way he averts his gaze from you as he speaks, refusing to make eye contact. “Didn't mean to bother you; I just—” You shake your head, interrupting him. “There’s no reason for you to apologise.” You pause, considering for a long moment before continuing. “What's up?” He exhales shakily, then hesitantly meets your gaze again. “I—Darry yelled at me again. He got real mad this time.” His voice cracks, and you pull him close once more. You know Darry’s been harder on him as of late, expecting too much of a boy Pony’s age. You know he means well, but you also know the toll it’s been taking on the younger Curtis brother and how difficult these past few weeks have been for him. “Sometimes I don't think Darry likes me very much.” You can hear the vulnerability in his tone, unable to miss how broken he appears. He's not crying anymore; if anything, he looks a little embarrassed and ashamed. You frown, brushing his damp bangs from his forehead. “Don't be ridiculous.” Your tone is firm, determined to keep him from ever getting caught up in that dark spiral. “He cares about you a whole lot.” “He's got a funny way of showin' it.” Pony grumbles softly, and you can't help but laugh at his bluntness, wrapping your arms tighter around him. “I wish he'd be nicer. I really don't like all the fighting we do.” “I know. But it'll get easier.” You look down at him. “If you want, I can go talk some sense into him.” That earns you a smile as Ponyboy nods, squeezing you a little tighter. “Good luck. I doubt he’ll listen.” You press a quick kiss to his forehead, smiling softly. “I’ll try my best.”

Johnny Cade - Arms circle around your waist, gripping onto you tightly as you comb your fingers through his tangled, and still heavily greased, hair. Johnny’s head rests in your lap, eyes squeezed shut as he tries desperately to fall into some sort of relaxed state, but he just can't seem to find the will within himself to do so. You watch him silently, running a finger absently along his jawline, taking in the bruises and cuts littering his face and arms. He looks worn thin and broken; his cheeks are tear-stained and hollowed by exhaustion. His breathing remains unsteady and uneven, his skin pale, and you can't help but reach out and brush the pad of your thumb across the faint lines beneath his eyes, your brow furrowing deeply. He flinches slightly but doesn’t open his eyes, his breath hitching. “Sorry,” You whisper, going back to smoothing your hand over his hair. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Johnny lets out a soft sigh, leaning his forehead against your stomach. “S' okay…” He shifts a little closer to you, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together. “...just glad yer here.” You bite your lower lip, tracing patterns into the back of his hand with your thumb, pressing soft kisses against his forehead as you let him snuggle closer, relishing in the simple closeness of it all. It eases your nerves knowing he's safe with you and calms the storm raging inside of you. Your mind wanders back to earlier, the images of him lying, half-dead, in that field flashing unbidden through your mind. It takes a lot to make Johnny Cade cry, but the second you had knelt down beside him and pulled him into your arms while the gang huddled about you, his composure had completely crumbled. Sobs had wracked his body, shaking his entire frame, and you could do nothing but hold him until he had finally calmed down. And now, here he was, curled up into your embrace, clinging to you like a lifeline. Every little noise made him jump, every sudden movement made his muscles tense, and your heart ached for him. You wanted so badly to make everything better, but there was nothing you could do. All you could do was stay there, holding him as he cried, wishing that there was something you could do besides sit by and whisper softly to him. But, you know, right now, just you being there is enough for him.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #johnny cade #dallas winston #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #ponyboy curtis x reader #johnny cade x reader #dallas winston x reader #dally winston x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #ponyboy curtis imagine #dallas winston imagine #johnny cade imagine #sodapop x reader #dally x reader #ponyboy x reader #the outsiders imagine

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uberstrainer · 4 months

Text

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#strainer cascade #best Lab Cell Strainers #Antibody Cell Separation #particle separation techniques #in line strainer #density gradient centrifugation principle #cell separation technology #particle filtration #cascade straining #cell enrichment techniques #stainless steel basket strainer #70 um cell strainer #40 um cell strainer #cell strainer 100 um

0 notes

shaguro · 6 months

Note

or!! mutual masturbation with roomie!geto 🫶

‧₊˚TEMPTED 2 TOUCH .ᐟ ⇀ SUGURU G.

⤿ synposis: geto comes home from the grocery store and is met with a pleasant surprise.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: roomie!geto x roomie-fem!reader, mutual masterbation, pet names used, (girl, pretty, baby) geto has a dick piercing (prince albert), fingering, handjobs. teasing, dirty talk. ⇀ wc. 1.6k. | MDNI.

⤿ an. hope you enjoy it twin! ♡

“i got the lemonade you asked for— oh.”

when suguru stepped back in from a quick trip to the store, he wasn’t expecting to come back to this — you on the couch in all your naked glory, legs spread wide with two fingers knuckle-deep in your pussy.

the fridge had been empty for days and with your busy schedules, there was usually no time for grocery shopping. coincidentally, you both were off for the day and when suguru asked if you’d tag along to the store, you declined. he wasn’t sure why at the time but now, his answer was right in front of him.

“s-suguru!” you gasp and within a second, your sodden fingers part from your cunt with a wet schlap that you nor suguru miss. “i . . .didn’t realize you’d be back so s-soon.”

“well yeah, i can see that, girl.” he chortles, his tone oozing sarcasm as he rests the plastic bags on the kitchen counter.

you couldn’t meet his eyes, not when you’re this embarrassed. that little smirk he adorned only made it worse and truly, you wished you could melt into the floor.

“so this is what you do when i’m gone? finger yourself on our couch?” he teases and you clamp your thighs together, a hand in your face in a fruitless attempt to your shame. “never would’ve thought you were nasty like that, (y/n).”

“i’m not.” you sigh so deeply that geto almost felt bad. almost. “suguru, please don’t tease me.” suguru quirks an eyebrow at that. you were making it hard for him to not tease you. ”i’ve been real stressed lately . . just needed some relief.”

oh, suguru was well aware of what you needed. you keep him up at night — your strained moans ringing in his ears, resounding through the thin walls of your apartment until you finally give up, another failed orgasm while suguru tends to his raging hard-on. it’s starting to feel like you’re teasing him.

“seems like you’re struggling with that, hmm?” he murmurs lowly, smooth like honey. that warm timbre had you heart fluttering, all words caught in your throat as he sauntered over, his bottom lip pinned under his pretty row of top teeth. “i can help you out, y’know… since i interrupted you and all that. if you’ll let me.”

he was leaning forward now, your faces only inches apart and you push your shame to the side, finally meeting piercing onyx irises. it’s a no brainer that suguru is handsome, infuriately sexy without trying. there was always underlying sexual tension between you but he was your roommate, why not avoid any potential drama and unneeded issues? keeping geto at a distance and being cordial has worked for this long — but how could you say no to his proposition? suguru offered a solution you’d be a fool to refuse.

fuck it.

“uh-uh, let me hear that pretty voice or else i’ll stop, baby.” suguru purrs. and you’re struggling to breathe, each push of lithe digits into your gushy pussy makes you mewl, helplessly rolling your hips into your palm.

“s-suguruu, feels s-so good.” you moan out, lulling your head back against the armrest. suguru hums prior to cascading wet pecks down the side of your neck, filling you with his thick fingers up to the knuckles, strategically angling his palm onto your neglected clit. “s-so much better when you d-do it.”

“oh yeah? poor baby, can’t even make yourself cum.” he taunts, faux pity itched into his handsome features. you pout cutely and feebly grasp his wrist, the scattered veins pop in tandem with the motion of his hand. “look so pretty like this, just fallin’ apart f’me..”

his kisses trail upwards, stopping mere centimeters from your lips. your lips pucker almost immediately and suguru chuckles, you’re so damn eager for him. his dick twitches when you whine for a kiss, your viscidly grooved walls cling on his digits, coats them in a thin, milky-white veil.

“gotta tell me what you want, girl– hmph!”

tired of waiting, your other hand is on his nape — pushing him down until your lips meet. “shit.” suguru groans, your teeth graze his bottom, nibbling on the soft flesh and suguru wants more. his free arm bends against the armrest near your head, leaning his body closer to yours, prodding his tongue into your mouth.

that’s when you feel it, his clothed erection pressed against your thigh. you can tell how big he is from how it contours on the grey cotton fabric, stretching it to its limits.

you shift your leg a bit and suguru gasps, his body jolting from the sudden friction. he pulls back, a single string of saliva stretches as your lips separate. suguru quirks an eyebrow with a playful scowl on his lips. “what d’ya think you’re doing?”

you chew the inside of your cheek, you eyes flickering between his eyes and his bulge. “wanna touch y-you, sugu.” and you reach down, fingertips dance along his clothed shaft before you firmly grab him. suguru grits his teeth, an airy moan rips from his throat. “wanna m-make you feel good t-too, if you’ll let me.”

what a fucking tease.

suguru scoffs and watches you intently as you toy with the waistband of his sweats. “got some nerve, girl. teasin me like this..”

with your hands this close to his dick, suguru was feeling antsy. throbbing sporadically as your hands grip and feel on him. it’s safe to say suguru can’t handle what he disses out, at all. “if you wanna see my dick that bad, go ahead.”

to his relief, you waste no time, tugging his sweatpants and boxers down in one swift motion while he holds the hem of his shirt up. his dick springs out against his toned stomach, reddened tip just touching his belly button. it was so pretty — perfectly tanned, a shade darker than his skin with a prominent vein bulging on the left side. while lengthy, the girth is more impressive — can your hand even fit around it fully? but that wasn’t the most surprising part. your eyes stop at his tip again, this time widening at the shiny silver metal that poked from the underside of the head and his urethra.

he had a dick piercing?

your hand reaches out, fingers hesitantly brush against the solid jewelry. suguru’s breath hitches, stomach flexing at your gentle touch. “starin’ real hard.. like what you see?” he quips, arching a brow as you nod dazedly, tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“yeah.. it’s so big, sugu.” you hum and lean forward, lips hovering over his tip, coating it in a glob of spit before holding the thick shaft, pumping him languidly. “so pretty.”

suguru groans, head tipping back slightly as you work on him. his hips jerk with every swipe of your thumb on his weeping head, glossing over the steel, pearly white precum spread on his slit .his fingers are still inside you, regaining their pace as suguru watches you with heavy-lidded eyes.

he’s so sensitive it’s almost embarrassing, a light blush layers his cheeks, mouth agape as he rocks and rocks his hips into your fist, unfiltered soft pants fall from his lips. he looks so pretty like this and his eye contact is unwavering, only egging you on further.

“so sensitive, sugu.” you coo, your own hips meet his fingers halfway, creating a delicious friction, your eyes nearly cross. “feels good?”

“s-shut the fuck up.” his threat is empty, muttered so shakily, you can only giggle in response. a sweat bead trickles down his temple as he bites down on his bottom lip, unsucessful at silencing himself. “you’re such a- fuck.”

suguru lets out a strained moan when he feels a second hand at the base of cock, your movements smooth and synchronized from all the saliva lathered down his length, shiny and sticky. his body swayed as you applied more pressure to your hands, tugging him forward every pull towards his tip.

oh, he was not going to last.

“i can tell you’re gonna cum, suguru.. it’s ok, don’t hold back.” suguru hates how right you are but it’s obvious — he’s hunched over you now as that familiar coil forms in the pit of his stomach, knuckles white from his grip on the armrest and he’s basically heaving, no longer able to suppress the low whines you force out his chest as your pace increases.

no air left in his lungs to counter your taunting, let alone formulate anything coherent, he relents. he withdraws his wrinkly digits from your cunt, too far gone to maintain any rhythm. suguru was on cloud nine, everything felt so fucking good. his mind was blank, focused solely on the heat inside that grew rapidly.

it was when your hand cupped his swollen balls that the coil snapped, stars blanket his vision as his release peaks. suguru’s abs tense, whole body still as he shoots ribbons of thick, creamy cum over your hand and abdomen, shuddering as your fingers still dance along his tip, entirely too sensitive as he swats your hand away.

his eyes narrow at you while he catches his breath, he can feel himself getting hard once more as you lap up his semen off your hand, maintaining eye contact as you giggle, your eyebrow raised.

“what happened to helping me out-?”

“shut the fuck up, (y/n).” he sneers and in an instant, suguru’s on his knees, adjusting himself between your thighs before tossing one over his shoulder. you gasp when his warm breath fans your pussy, his eyes blown over with lust. you wanted help? shit, suguru was ready to make you cry.

“gonna make you regret ever pulling that shit, baby.. now, lie the fuck down.”

this took me forever to write yall omg. | @preciousamethyst

#geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #shanti's stories⋆˙⟡♡

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donatellawritings · 7 months

Note

would rafe ever actually hurt the reader or does he always say empty promises when he’s upset? would you write that? love your work xx

ugh so basically, this is the first and only time that rafe and sweetheart actually break up :(

there was only one instance where rafe had hurt you — and it was one of, if not, the only regret that will continue to haunt him, whenever you shed even a single tear. it was pretty early on in your relationship, he was still struggling to navigate how to handle someone as pure as you, while you were still finding your footing when it came to having such a volatile lover in rafe cameron. you’d been warned by your cousin, kiara — she was firm in maintaining her stance on being against you and rafe being in a relationship … you were her family, you had a heart of genuine gold, while rafe only displayed the facade of being a blood and money hungry man with incessant skeletons in his closet.

“don’t fuckin’ walk away from me, when i’m talkin’ to you,” rafe shouted, hot on your trail as you tearfully made your way into your shared bedroom. mascara-stained tears painted your once blushed cheeks with dark and watery streaks, your lip poked out in a wobbly pout as you turned to face your angered boyfriend, “of course, the baby is fuckin’ crying — i should be the one that’s fuckin’ crying after the way you walked around like a dumb slut,” he scoffed, completely unfazed by your genuine tears of sorrowful frustration. now focusing your gaze at your kitten-heel clad feet, your shoulders slumped as a choked out sob sipped from between your swollen lips.

rafe was completely coked-out, blaming his over-indulgence on the fact that it had been months since he’d been able to enjoy a night out. his usually cold, yet enticing bright blue glaze was taken over by blown pupils and bloodshot eyes that stared at you with nothing, but disdain, “y’fuckin’ look at me when i’m talking to you,” he spoke lowly, a squeaky yelp coming out of you as he gripped your jaw, forcing your head up to make direct eye contact with him. your hand gently held onto his wrist, fat tears cascading down your waterline as rafe painfully pinched your cheeks together, “i want you to get the fuck out of my house — y’wanna fuckin’ talk to other guys while m’making us money? then fucking leave,” he spat through gritted teeth, pushing your face away as you let out a throaty cry.

that was far from the case — rafe had simply caught you making conversation with some random kook who’d failed to take the hint that not only you were uninterested, but you were rafe’s girl. but, rafe was too far gone to see anything aside from what his intoxicated mind wrongfully conjured up.

with a heaving chest, you let out a cry as you reached to grab rafe’s arm, “no, papi, i don’t want to go — please ju-just listen to me,” the second your hand touched rafe’s flexed arm, your head whipped to the side as rafe’s ring-clad hand slapped you right across your pretty face. your cheek pulsed with an aching sting as you blinked, your swollen lips parted in disbelief.

the sharp sound of rafe’s hand connecting with your face instantly caused your boyfriend to sober up, just enough for his eyes to widen in realization as he immediately approached you, “fuck, baby i didn’t mean to fuckin’—” he began, reaching an arm out to pull you into his chest, his heart sinking to his stomach as you backed away from him, bone-chilling cries leaving your mouth as you made a run for the bedroom door. “no-no, mama, please just fuckin’ listen!” he shouted, his arms successfully wrapping around you from behind as he pulled you flush against his tense chest.

“i fucking hate you, let me go!” you screamed, kicking your heeled feet as rafe tightened his hold on you, your eyes burning with reddening tears as you let out a choked sob. your cheek still pulsed as you began to sink to the floor, rafe lowering himself with his arms secured around you as you weakly clawed at his strained forearms, “please, i just want to go home,” you squeaked out, rafe’s eyes glazing over — this was supposed to be your home. you’d given up on kicking at the floor and scratching rafe’s arms, your heaving cries making you a bit sleepy as rafe wordlessly held you against him, waiting until you were calm, before he’d speak again.

tears silently rolled down rafe’s structured face as he hopelessly clung to you. you had every right to hate him and he accepted that, but the possibility of you leaving him for good was really starting to bite at him. with a shaky sigh, rafe leaned his forehead against your shoulder, “baby, pl-please let’s just, let’s just go to sleep,” he whispered, his voice wobbly as he swallowed down a pathetic cry. you remained quiet as you stared at the hardwood floor that had been scuffed by your heels, your doe eyes puffy and red from all of the crying you’d done, your eyelids heavy. “m’so fuckin’ sorry,” rafe cried, feverishly pressing his lips into the back of your shoulder, over and over again, his wet eyelashes now prominent against your exposed skin.

you were completely numb, once rafe slowly rose to his feet, keeping you in his arms as he carefully removed your clothes, replacing them with one of his t-shirts, tears rolling down his face as you remained limp, your eyes blank of any recognizable emotion as you refused to look directly into his eyes. you didn’t even move when rafe softly cradled the back of your head, pressing a kiss into your forehead as you simply blinked, your wispy lashes clumped together from your warm tears. carefully leading you to your shared bed, rafe remained fully clothed in his button-up and slacks, silently thankful that you were able to fall asleep with your bruised cheek finding comfort against his cheek. he couldn’t find it in himself to sleep, once he was completely sober and of a sound mind, rafe knew that he’d completely fucked up.

this wasn’t supposed to happen, not with you. he was supposed to be different, he was supposed to be a man of dignity, yet here he was slipping into his old ways.

so, rafe was awake when you finally woke up, his heart beating just a bit quicker as you raised your head from his chest, your cheekbone a light reddish-purple shade. it wasn’t until your exhausted and strained eyes met his, that rafe wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and beg you for your forgiveness. but, he knew he’d be selfish to expect you to forgive him, only mere hours since he’d put his hands on you. biting back tears, rafe stood from the bed, “i want to take you somewhere, baby — y’don’t have to change your clothes, just come with me to the car, yeah?” rafe held out his hand, a slight warmth fluttering in his chest as you lightly held onto his hand with a small nod.

౨ৎ

rafe was thankful that you’d fallen asleep, about five minutes into the drive. he’d been wracking over his mistake over and over again, to the point where he couldn’t even bring himself to turn the car around and drive back home with you. slowly bringing the car to a stop, rafe gently parked the car, running a hand over his shaven face with a low and shaky sigh. his tired eyes looked over your peaceful state, your puffy lips slight parted as you fell into a deep sleep. rafe’s heart ached as he gently laid a hand on your thigh, lightly nudging you out of your sleep, a sad and knowing smile tugging on his lips as you opened your eyes.

“rafe, why are we here?” you asked, your voice raspy and hoarse as your eyes glazed.

rafe had driven you home.

unbuckling his seatbelt, rafe shifted to give you his full attention, his hand bringing yours to his lips as you looked at him with tearful eyes, “i want you to listen to me, a’ight? i need to be a better man for you,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, before swallowing thickly as you held in a cry, “m’gonna get my shit together, princess—” he continued, watching as you furiously shook your head. you were stubborn, but this was the one time where he needed you to listen to him.

“no, i wanna be with you — i don’t hate you, i—” you panicked, tears streaming down your face as you softly pulled your hand away from rafe’s, using both of your small hands to cover your face.

“m’gonna come and get you when i get better, okay mama? but right now, you need to go home, a’ight?” he sighed, keeping his eyes focused on the steering wheel. if he even looked at you for a second, he knew that he’d be back on the road, with you in the passenger seat, riding off into the sunset.

sniffling back a sob, you glanced at your boyfriend through cloudy eyes, “you’re breaking my heart, papi,” you cried, your puffy lips now dry as you licked over them. you wanted so bad to crawl into his lap and fall asleep, forget this all happened. unfortunately, rafe had already made up his mind.

“baby, please go home, this isn’t easy for me,” rafe spoke sternly, maintaining his gaze on the steering wheel, tears burning at his waterline as you nodded weakly, before stepping out of the car, gently closing the passenger door as you walked towards your house.

neither you nor rafe had the strength to look at each other as you made your way into your house, leaving rafe a tearful mess as he aimlessly made his way back on the road. every few minutes, he’d glance at the passenger seat, hoping that you’d magically appear next to him and be your usually smiley self, but he knew that couldn’t happen, not for a while.

rafe meant it when he said that he’d come get you, once he got better and he looked to make good on that promise. you were his sweet girl and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself, if he managed to lose you for good. he just hoped that you’d still love him, when he returned.

#anon #asks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #obx #sweetheart!reader

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kismetlotts · 6 months

Text

-`♡´- John Price fingering you in front of the mirror x afab femreader

cw: mirror kink, “good girl”, reader gets fingered

John Price was a mad man; a fucking machine. Built like a superhero, covered in dirt with that sexy beard of his but god damn you’d let him do the unspeakable to you.

He could fuck for hours, for nights- you swore if he had enough energy he could go on for days. But one thing he struggled to do was finger you.

You felt a bit embarrassed to ask why as you always assured him it felt good but the disgruntled expression and sigh he makes when he pulls out of you made you worry. You began to wonder if it was something wrong with you and that’s the reason why.

In your head it made sense, him making it plainly obvious he didn’t want to do it every-time it was over but your mind always made something up to contradict your theory.

If he hated it so much why did he enjoy eating you out? Why would he throw you in the bed, staring at your pussy hungry before attacking your clit fast and hard like the military captain he is? And if he hated fingering you so much why did he offer?

Why did he do that?

You stretched your legs out under your office chair before packing your bag and leaving work, on your way home. Tonight was the night you were going to ask him, embarrassing or not. You couldn’t let your dwelling and overthinking cluster up your head any longer, it was time.

You opened the gate to your rustic home and headed for the big door. The house you two had bought was quiet old and elegant and you’d loved it so much, decorating the decaying walls and overgrown garden and making it your own. You loved the style and it made you feel cozy, this was your dream house.

The door shut behind you and the farmilliar scent of vanilla candles and firewood cascaded through the walls as the fire cracked beside you. You hung up your coat and dumped your bag on the floor.

“Baby? Where are you?” You called and after hearing a couple strained grunts you heard Price yell back a ‘Here’ from upstairs. Curiosity flooded your mind and you jogged up the stairs and pushed open your bedroom door to see him crouched on the floor, tool kit sprawled behind him and a screw driver in his hand.

“What the fuck is that?” The laughter of your voice falling through as you store at the mirror nailed to the wall, it was huge. Something out of a ballet studio and you turned back to him, heavy breathing and whipping the sweat off of his pink face.

“Thought you’d like it, pretty big though.” Yeah, just a little. Head to toe taking all the room and right in-front of the bed, how amazing. Cant wait to wake up to my own reflection.

“Doesn’t exactly go with the rustic design of the house does it?” But all he did was laugh and pull you closer, giving you a sloppy but loving kiss on the lips as you tried to wriggle away. His hands clasped around you waist and you remembered what you were going to ask him. Your mouth fell ajar but before you could speak he was dragging along the wide wooden chair to sit on before placing it infront of the mirror and take a seat.

“Want to know what it’s for?” He asked, words laced with something you couldn’t put your tongue on but you hesitantly nodded, wondering why he bought this. It must’ve costed a lot, and it was rather beautiful, it was as clear as glass. Why did he get this.

Price smirked letting a deep chuckle through his tight lips before patting his laps for you to sit. You sat down hesitantly and glacéd in the mirror at you two, his hands around your waist, just above your black skirt and eyes locked onto you. His left hand trailed up towards your neck sending tingles down your body and dampening your panties again. His other creeping closer down and rubbed your thigh soothingly.

“When I finger you love, I struggle a lot. I know you notice and I want to let you know why I struggle.” His hand reached your neck just below your chin and he tilted your neck back so your head laid on his strong shoulder, still looking at yourself in the mirror, with him in control.

"I love to see my fingers inside you, your cum gushing out after i finger you, but i also love to see your little face. Your cute little scrunched eyes, mouth wide open out of pleasure.” You couldn’t fight back the small whimper you let out as his hands on your thigh slowly rose higher, slipping comfortably under your skirt.

“But darling i’m getting old now, aren’t I? It’s too hard to look up then down then up- I miss a few things and I don’t like missing.” His seductive grin send pools of lava to your stomach and your thighs tensed under his hands as his thick fingers grazed the soft fabric of your panties. Teasing you and loving every fucking second.

“But fuck, from this angle? I can see all of you, all of you at once. Your breathing, face, pussy, everything and I love it.” You shut your eyes in embarrassment and you felt your face burn while he slid your underwear down slowly and gently tapped against your precious sensitive skin.

Tracing slowly down your wet slit coating himself in your taste. He groaned at the feeling kissing your temple while his finger prodded into your entrance greedily. Next time he will take his time, next time he will have you begging for his fingers. Next time because god he couldn’t wait now.

The thickness of his finger stretched you out slightly as he thrusted it in and out of you, burning your hole slightly as he added another and another. Your moans and cries send sparks to his dick below you and you felt him harden more and more beneath you- he didn’t stop to fuck you though.

“Oh yeah darling look at you, fucking look at yourself.” His other hand stretched to your chin, tilting your face up and through tears you watched yourself be finger fucked by John. Tightening around his hand more and moaning louder as tears rolled down your cheek.

“Baby I’m going to-” You started but he shut you up shushing you quiet with a small kiss and rapid movements. His husky voice demanding you just to let yourself go.

“Come on, that’s it. Just let it all go, cum on my fingers. Good girl, oh my god you’re such a good girl.” As you came, cum squirting out of your abused hole and dripping down his sticky fingers. Your back arched and your legs started to shake and tremble against him and he just smiled. Pulling out of you and holding you for a moment, licking his fingers clean.

“Was that good darling? I loved it. So much better than usually fingering you.” You breathing calmed down slowly as you shakily nodded. John leant over giving you another loving kiss before chuckling.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to calm down and then we’ll go again, yeah?”

#john price smut #price cod #john price #captain john price x reader #captain price #price x reader #call of duty smut #cod smut #cod price #john price x reader #captain john price

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malavera · 1 month

Text

Echoes Beneath the Waves (18+) — Logan Howlett One Shot

summary: In which the big bad wolverine gets lured to play with the ocean’s beauty.

pairings: logan howlett x siren!mutant!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI. Allusions to smut, naked make-out session.

credit: divider is from @firefly-graphics 🤍

The night was a canvas of shadows, with the lonely moon hanging as its only brushstroke of light. A biting breeze whipped through the darkness, and the relentless roar of the waves echoed against the shore, as if the ocean itself refused to rest. Laughter faded into the distance, swallowed by the night, as Logan drifted away, seeking solace in his own isolation.

Once he was far enough from the others, Logan lit his cigar, the soft glow briefly illuminating his face. He settled onto a large rock, just high enough to keep the waves from reaching his feet, and let the quiet of the night envelop him.

His gaze fixed on the horizon, where the ocean seemed to go on forever. The sky is painted dark grey until he saw a flicker of light coming from the middle of the ocean. His eyebrows furrowed together.

That’s odd, he thought.

Logan leaned forward, the cigar in his hand forgotten as he strained to catch every note of the enchanting melody. The music seemed to weave itself into the night, wrapping around him, pulling him closer to the ocean’s edge. He felt a strange compulsion, a pull that was both gentle and irresistible, urging him toward the water.

The light on the horizon grew brighter, pulsating in rhythm with the melody. It was as if the sea itself was calling to him, whispering secrets in a language he had never known but somehow understood. The world around him faded, the sounds of the crashing waves and distant laughter of his friends all but drowned out by the song that filled his ears and heart.

Without realizing it, he had risen to his feet, his legs moving of their own accord, carrying him closer to the shore. The rocks beneath him were cold and slick, but he paid them no mind. All that mattered was the light and the music, drawing him deeper into the night.

As he neared the water’s edge, the melody became clearer, more defined. It was a song of longing, of promises whispered on the wind. Logan’s heart ached with a strange, sweet sorrow, a yearning he couldn’t place. The light now shimmered on the waves, closer than before, beckoning him with its mysterious glow.

And then, she appeared.

Rising gracefully from the depths of the sea, a figure emerged, illuminated by the soft, ethereal light. The siren was unlike anything Logan had ever seen—beautiful, enchanting, and utterly seductive. Her long, flowing hair cascaded like liquid midnight over her bare shoulders, and her eyes, deep and alluring, locked onto his with a gaze that held both danger and desire.

She moved with an otherworldly grace, her voice weaving through the air as she sang, the melody now clearly coming from her lips. Each note seemed to hold him captive, drawing him in further, until he was standing ankle-deep in the water, unable to resist her pull.

The siren reached out to him, her hand hovering just above the water’s surface, beckoning him closer. The cold ocean swirled around his legs, but all Logan felt was a strange, enveloping warmth as he stared into her eyes, utterly entranced. In that moment, the world around him faded—no fear, no hesitation, only the magnetic pull of her presence.

But as their hands were about to touch, the siren suddenly gasped, choking on her own breath. Logan’s hand, which had been reaching for hers, seemed to move with a will of its own, and now it was wrapped tightly around the delicate, shimmering throat of the beautiful creature before him.

“You’re trying to mess with my mind again, aren’t you, fish?” Logan hissed, his voice low and dangerous as his grip tightened around her throat.

Her wide eyes glistened with a mix of surprise and something darker as she struggled against his hold. “How many times do I have to tell you?” he continued, his tone laced with a controlled fury. “Stay out of my head.”

With a final squeeze, he released her, watching as her legs—now human—settled onto the wet, rocky shore beneath them. She coughed, her breath ragged as she fought to regain control, but a mischievous smile soon curled her lips.

“You know I’ll always have my night dip, Logan,” she purred, her voice smooth despite the recent struggle. “It’s the humans who need to control themselves.”

She laughed then, a melodic sound that echoed through the night, her eyes gleaming with a playful challenge as she looked at his unyielding expression. “It’s almost as if you wanted me to draw you in.”

“M’not,” Logan muttered, but his voice lacked conviction, the siren’s laughter reverberating in his ears.

“Oh, but are you?” she teased, her tone dripping with mockery as she probed at the cracks in his carefully constructed walls.

Slowly, she reached for his hand again, this time with a softness that belied her earlier boldness. “Come on, swim with me. Just this once,” she coaxed, one eye winking playfully as she smirked. “I promise, this time it’s real. I’m not going to mess with your head.”

Her words were a vow, spoken with a mischievous grin that betrayed the truth—she was playing her game, but Logan knew better. And yet, despite knowing the risks, he felt himself give in. With a resigned sigh, he pulled away just enough to strip off his clothes, tossing them carelessly aside until he stood before her, bare and unguarded.

“This what you wanted?” he asked, his voice steady but his eyes betraying the wariness underneath.

Her smirk widened, satisfaction gleaming in her gaze as she took in the sight of him. “Perfect,” she murmured, the word slipping from her lips like a promise, as the waves whispered at their feet, the night drawing them both into its depths.

She reached for his hands once more, and this time, Logan didn’t resist. He allowed her touch, her fingers cool and delicate against his. With a coy smile, she began to step backward, gently pulling him with her, further and further into the dark embrace of the ocean.

The cold water climbed higher as they moved deeper, the chill biting at his skin, but Logan felt a strange warmth radiating from her touch, keeping him anchored to her. With each step, the waves lapped at their bodies, until they were both submerged in the icy depths.

As the water enveloped them, the siren’s legs shimmered, transforming before his eyes. What was once human flesh became a beautiful, dark blue tail, its scales glinting faintly in the moonlight. The transformation was seamless, mesmerizing, as if the ocean itself had claimed her once again.

She flicked her tail lightly, the movement graceful and fluid, sending ripples through the water as she held his gaze. The cold, the danger, everything faded into the background. All that remained was her—mysterious, enchanting, and impossibly close.

Logan was amazed. He had never seen anything more beautiful than the vision before him, you floating effortlessly in the water, your dark blue tail shimmering like a jewel beneath the surface.

You inched closer, your breath warm against his ear as you whispered, "Close your eyes." Logan hesitated, unease flickering in his gaze, but something in your voice, in the way you looked at him, made him decide to trust you. After a moment, he let his eyes slowly drift shut, surrendering to the unknown.

A soft breath escaped your lips, brushing against his skin as you granted him the magic of your powers. The change was almost imperceptible, a gentle tingling that spread through him, filling him with a sense of calm and something more—something ancient and powerful.

"Now, open your eyes," you whispered, your voice like a melody woven into the wind. Logan obeyed, his eyes fluttering open to a world transformed. Everything seemed sharper, more vivid, as if he were seeing the ocean for the first time.

You gave him a knowing smile before slipping beneath the surface, your tail flicking gracefully as you began to descend into the depths. Without hesitation, Logan followed, plunging into the cold embrace of the water, drawn into the mysterious world that awaited below.

As Logan plunged beneath the surface, he expected darkness—a murky, cold abyss. But instead, the world around him came alive with vibrant light and color. The magic you had gifted him transformed the ocean into a realm of wonders he had never imagined.

The water, once dark and foreboding, now shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Schools of fish darted around him, their scales reflecting hues of turquoise, emerald, and gold. Coral formations, illuminated by a soft, ethereal light, stretched out like underwater forests, each structure more intricate and beautiful than the last. Logan felt as though he had stepped into a dream, a hidden world that only a few were ever privileged to see.

He swam deeper, following your graceful form as you glided effortlessly through the water, your tail shimmering like a beacon guiding him onward. The deeper they went, the more the ocean revealed its secrets. Strange, luminous creatures drifted by, their bodies pulsing with light, while the distant echoes of the sea created a symphony that filled the silence.

Logan’s senses were heightened, every detail sharper and more vivid than he could have ever imagined. He could feel the gentle currents caressing his skin, the pressure of the water embracing him, the rhythm of the ocean syncing with his heartbeat.

You paused and turned to him, your eyes reflecting the wonder of this underwater world, as if inviting him to share in the magic. Logan met your gaze, a sense of awe and gratitude welling up inside him. He had been drawn into the depths, but now, instead of fear, he felt an overwhelming connection to the ocean and to you, the one who had opened this new reality to him.

And there you are standing in front of him, enchantingly beautiful. Your perky full rounded tits, your sharp shoulders, your wide hips. All of a sudden, he yearns to lay those war-fought hands upon your magnetic body.

You smirked, a playful glint in your eyes as you swam closer to him. Logan watched you, mesmerized by your every movement. When your hands gently wrapped around his neck, his breath hitched, the connection between you two deepening with every passing second. Your fingers traced upward, caressing his skin, until your thumb softly grazed his bottom lip, sending a shiver through him.

Without hesitation, you closed the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that felt like it could drown the world. The water around you seemed to still, the ocean itself holding its breath as you shared this moment. The kiss was tender yet intense, filled with the same magic that had transformed the depths into a world of wonder.

Then, as suddenly as the kiss began, the world around you shifted. The weightless sensation of the water was replaced by the solid feel of land beneath your feet. You were no longer in the ocean’s embrace but back on the shore, the waves gently lapping at the sand nearby.

Logan blinked in surprise, still feeling the warmth of your lips on his, the taste of saltwater lingering. The transition from the depths to the surface was disorienting, but the connection between you remained unbroken. You stood before him, the night air cool against your skin, your eyes still holding that knowing, playful glint.

Logan regained control of the heated moment, his instincts taking over as he flipped you onto your back, the soft sand cushioning your bare skin. Hovering above you, he reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, his breath ragged as he tried to steady himself. For a brief moment, he just watched you, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

But all he saw was that damn smirk, the one that drove him wild.

"I'm not doing anything, Logan," you taunted, your voice a teasing whisper that sent a thrill down his spine. "It's your own hands that want to touch me."

You leaned upward, closing the space between you, your lips hovering just inches from his. The challenge in your eyes was unmistakable, daring him to take what he wanted, knowing full well that you had already captured his desire.

Logan growled before he roughly shove his lips against yours, pushing you back against the ground as his wandering hands begin to wonder around your body. Groping your tits roughly, earning a soft moan from you. You don't want to be useless, you let one hand find its way to his stomach before it lingers down towards the package that you're searching for.

Logan groaned once he feels your cold palm, wrapped around his raging-hard cock. He looks down to your lower body and noticed that your legs are still hidden away, your tail displayed upon him.

"You have two options, kid. Either you change them into that sexy, strong, legs of yours so I could fuck and cum deep inside your pussy. Or, I could just use your mouth and cums down your throat. Which ever do you want?"

let me know if you want this to be a series.. 👀

#Malavera #Logan howlett #Logan howlett one shot #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x mutant reader #logan howlett x female reader #logan howlett imagine #wolverine #wolverine x mutant reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine reader

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6esiree · 2 months

Text

Giving Them A Handjob In Public

Imagine accidentally giving Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Vox, and Adam an erection in public, so they have you lend them a hand?

Alastor:

It all started as an innocent caress on the knee, the pads of your fingers mindlessly tracing patterns against the fabric of Alastor’s pants. And while he usually wasn’t overtly fond of PDA, he made an exception just this once, your soothing ministrations concealed by the long tablecloth. It soon escalated into something more, however, too absorbed in your conversation with Rosie to notice that your hand had unconsciously ventured up his thigh and into dangerous territory.

“Oh, Alastor, why did ya take so long to introduce us?” Rosie asked, her bosom heaving with laughter, the piping hot contents in her teacup threatening to spill at any given moment.

“He said something about waiting for the perfect time?” You laughed alongside her, but not for long, feeling something taut jump underneath your fingers. “Whatever that means…ha!”

Your eyes nervously darted to the side, your heart rate picking up at the noticeable outline of Alastor’s cock straining against his pants. Fortunately, nobody else could see the embarrassing predicament you had inadvertently designed, the table you were seated at conveniently situated at the corner of the cafe. Still, you offered him an apologetic look when Rosie went to sip at her tea, failing to notice his blown pupils and slightly flushed cheeks.

You retracted your hand, but Alastor snatched your wrist with a hushed ‘Finish what you started,’ a blush creeping up your neck. You complied, turning back to Rosie upon hearing her teacup softly clank against the saucer, trying to conceal the disbelief etched onto your brow with a friendly smile as his cock immediately stirred underneath your palm. You carefully undid Alastor’s pants, pushing past his briefs, a warm, wet, sticky substance greeting your fingers.

“Is everything alright with ya, Alastor?” Rosie’s eyes flitted down to the half-eaten pastry in front of him, blissfully unaware that your thumb was slowly lubricating his cock in his precum.

“Oh, don’t you worry about me, dear,” Alastor waved her off with a strained smile, his ears almost falling back as you gently squeezed him. “The cake was just dry this time around!”

You wondered how Alastor managed to maintain his composure and keep the conversation within the three of you flowing after that, your hand subtly pumping him at a steady pace. While his responses were brief and less theatrical, a moan or two would have tumbled past your lips from the mere thought of being pleasured in public. But apparently the same didn’t apply to Alastor, his jaw merely tightening as his cock suddenly pulsated, heaps of cum cascading down your fist.

Lucifer:

The tension between Alastor and Lucifer hung heavily in the air, polluting the dinning room and spoiling almost everybody’s appetite. So, in an effort to combat that, you affectionately squeezed Lucifer’s leg, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards as he shifted his focus from the demon on the opposite end of the table to the food on his plate. Feeling rather triumphant, you picked up your fork and dug into your food, completely oblivious to the tent steadily forming in his pants.

“So, how did you two meet?” Charlie asked, a genuine smile on her face. You expected Lucifer to answer, but he didn’t. “Well, it’s quite a long story, actually,” You chuckled nervously.

“Oh, I love stories!” Charlie put her fork down and excitedly clasped her hands, giving you her full attention. You smiled at her, glad that at least one thing went right in this little welcome party.

Meanwhile, Lucifer slowly chewed on his food with a distant expression, trying to focus on the way you carefully recounted how you two met instead of the hand that kneaded at his inner thigh. He mentally cursed at himself for being weak-willed, indulging in the pleasant sensation even after he realized you had unconsciously ventured up his leg in your distracted state, your nimble fingers only a few centimeters away from his straining cock and his dampening pants.

It didn’t take long for you to start wondering why Lucifer was being awfully quiet, especially with his daughter talking your ear off. But then you felt him seize your wrist and place your hand over his crotch, a damp spot kissing your palm. Your eyes immediately widened, horrified that you had accidentally given him an erection in a room full of people—until you realized that he had encouraged you to touch him. You tentatively palmed him, his cock throbbing in response.

“Dad, are you okay?” Charlie suddenly asked, her voice laced with concern, noticing the slight blush on his features as you undid his pants, sliding your hand into his briefs. “You’ve been unusually quiet.”

“Oh, I’m just letting you two get to know each other, that’s all!” Lucifer said, shooting her a big, toothy grin, trying not to groan at the way you slowly lathered the head of his cock in his precum.

Thankfully, Charlie accepted his brief explanation, offering you a few words before resuming her dinner. The rest of the residents at the table began to talk amongst each other, too, allowing you to pump Lucifer’s weeping cock without the fear of them hearing, the sound sinfully moist. But you had no idea that a certain someone had an extra pair of eyes, his shadow watching with a wicked smile as his hips subtly thrusted up to meet your hand, the fork in his grip trembling as he came.

Husk:

An exasperated groan seeped past Husk’s lips as he lost yet another game of Blackjack, pointing an accusatory claw at the machine and cursing it out for scamming him out of his money. You shook your head, biting your cheek in a poor attempt not to laugh, affectionately squeezing his leg. But that only earned you an unamused look, his clawed-hand seizing your waist and bringing your sides flush together. ‘Ow!’ You giggled, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, albeit gently.

“I don’t get how people play this for hours,” He kissed at your skin, pacified by the sensation of your hand gently kneading his thigh. “It’s rigged—but I’m too broke for the real shit right now.”

“I mean, the minimum bet on this thing is, like, $1,” You said, unaware of the way he stirred in his pants. “Maybe invest a little bit more than that?” You suggested with a shit-eating grin.

Husk rolled his eyes, resuming the game; but of course, the virtual dealer fucked him over again. With every game he lost, your hand unconsciously moved up his leg, driven by the sighs you elicited from him. He slumped back into the cushioned seat, parting his legs as your fingers pressed into his inner thigh. It was easy for him to get lost in your touch, especially with everybody minding their own business, but that didn’t mean that you were purposely trying to rile him up.

When you felt the tent in his pants, you instantly retracted your hand, a horrified apology tumbling from your lips. ‘Ain’t nobody watchin’, doll,’ Husk rasped, his pupils blown with lust, guiding your hand back to his crotch. He unashamedly jutted his hips forward, encouraging you to touch him while he carried on his game of Blackjack, his cock throbbing underneath your palm. You complied, but not before looking around and making sure that nobody was watching.

“I never thought I’d give you a handy in a casino,” You murmured, shakily undoing Husk’s pants, a groan escaping his throat as you shoved your hand into his briefs. “Seriously, this is crazy.”

“Eh, I’ve done worse things in my days as an overlord,” Husk shrugged, shooting you a lopsided grin. His tail swished between his legs at the feeling of you squeezing the base of his cock.

You rolled your eyes before staring at him, gauging his reaction as you gave him a generous pump. Husk’s ears slightly twitched backwards, but that was it, his clawed-hand reaching out to affectionately caress your jaw. While this wasn’t something you’d usually do, you couldn’t help but feel slightly excited at the idea of pleasuring him in public. Nobody spared the two of you a glance, though, not even as he thickly coated your hand in his cum and made you slowly lick it clean.

Vox:

With one arm wrapped around your shoulder, Vox nursed a drink, a gratified hum seeping past his lips as you mindlessly traced patterns on his knee with the pads of your fingers. Trips to the club were frequent with the Vee’s, so you naturally grew tired of drinking and partying for hours on end, opting to stay plastered to Vox’s side instead of wandering off with Velvette or Valentino. But you were slipping into boredom, unconsciously venturing up his thigh as you stared ahead.

“Mm, sweetheart, what are you up to?” Vox suddenly asked, his chest rising and falling in anticipation. You stared up at him through your lashes with a ‘Hm?,’ confused.

“Oh, come on, don’t play coy with me,” He continued, realization settling in your gut as he grabbed your jaw with his thumb and his forefinger, tilting your head downwards.

Your eyes widened in shock, a blush creeping up your neck at the outline of Vox’s cock against his pants, sporting a damp spot where the head prodded at. Thankfully, the Vee’s had their own section reserved at the club to avoid being bothered by sinners, so nobody could see what was unfolding between the two of you. That didn’t make you any less apologetic, however, retracting your hand with an embarrassed ‘Oh, shit, I’m sorry,’ hoping that he wasn’t upset at you.

But Vox shook his head, the arm around your shoulder reaching down to guide your hand back to his crotch, a wicked grin on his face. ‘Go ahead, it’s just us,’ He hummed, his cock throbbing against your palm almost in encouragement. Velvette and Valentino were absent from the booth, sure, but what if they came back while you were in the middle of pleasuring him? You would never be able to look them in the eye, even though they wouldn’t actually care.

“Why are you hesitating, sweetheart?” Vox asked, downing the rest of his drink as you undid his pants, your hand sliding into his briefs, his precum greeting your fingers in a warm, wet, sticky kiss.

“I’m not, it’s just—what if they catch us?” You started, your hand squeezing at the base of his cock, eliciting a groan from him. “Especially Val…not that he’ll say anything bad. You know him.”

A chuckle reverberated through Vox’s chest, his clawed-hand affectionately carding into your hair. He assured you that not a single damned soul would find out, tapping at the edge of his screen, a reminder of the sort of power he held. So, you gave in, the sound of you wetly pumping him drowned out by the music blaring in the background; but Vox stopped monitoring his surroundings, a certain moth catching the exact moment his cock pulsated as he came in your fist.

Adam:

A thick, heavy hand suddenly clutched at your waist, eliciting a surprised gasp from you that sent questionable looks towards your way. But apparently, you couldn’t be upset at Adam, not when it was your fault for caressing the expanse of his leg as a form of affection, your fingers circulating his knee everything but innocent to him. You threw your menu down onto the table, meeting his shit-eating grin with narrowed eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Hey, doofus, we’re in a fucking restaurant,” You reminded him, wildly gesturing to the people trying to enjoy their food nearby. “And we’re not exactly alone.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t fucking see that!” Adam mock-gasped, until you sunk your nails into his inner thigh, a high-pitched yelp seeping past his lips. “Ow! What the fuck was that for?”

Fortunately, the waiter seated the two of you at the furthest booth, your little squabble mostly inconveniencing customers auditory senses rather than their vision. Or so that’s what you hoped as Adam seized your hand and shoved it into his robes, his erection immediately throbbing against your palm. Your cheeks remained flushed, but it had less to do with your initial embarrassment and more to do with the riskiness of the situation.

And to make matters worse, Lute was supposed to join you for dinner, the text she sent you about being a little late haunting your mind as Adam buried his masked face into your neck, a hushed, ‘Come on, babe, nobody’s watching,’ titillating you. She could walk through those restaurant doors at any moment, but the strangled groan that reverberated through his chest had you pushing past his briefs, an unmistakeable warm, sticky substance greeting your trembling fingers.

“Hey, hey—don’t you close your eyes,” You hissed, your thumb circulating the head of his cock, lathering him in his precum at a torturous pace. “I’ll never forgive you if we get caught.”

“I was, uhhh, blinking. Yeah, blinking,” Adam huffed, placing his hand over yours and helping you pump his cock, clearly desperate. “Stop teasing me and—ah, fuck—yeah, just like that.”

You kept your eyes trained on your surroundings, hyperaware of every little noise that penetrated your ears as your hand moved steadily underneath Adam’s robes. There was no way you could trust him to look out for you, not with his fingers reenacting how you had innocently caressed him earlier, clenching your thighs together. At least he finished before Lute decided to show up, blissfully unaware of the sticky mess in your fist as she slid into the booth, across from you.

Taglist:

@cosmiiwrites @pumppkinlynn @spookieroz @gxstiess @polyo-nym-y @vvzhyxx @shinynewboots @freakyfrye @leonotlara @angelicribbons

Notes: If y’all want to be on the taglist or I forgot to add you, please lmk! My memory is dookie </3

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drabbles-mc · 3 months

Text

We Were Just Leaving

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut (protected p in v), language, alcohol, strangers to lovers

For Week 2 of Hot Bucky Summer: "What should I call you?"

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: my first time ever writing smut for bucky. it truly is a Hot Bucky Summer! 😂 biggest thanks to @buckybarnesevents for putting on this event! endless appreciation for all of your hard work 💞 maybe i'll write more for these two in this event if another prompt strikes inspo for them 👀

Going out on your own to get a drink and decompress after a long week had sounded like a great idea until about three minutes ago. Ever since then you’d been silently kicking and cursing yourself for not taking up your coworkers on their Happy Hour offer. The last thing you’d wanted to do after the way your week had gone was socialize, even with coworkers that you generally liked and got along with.

But now that seemed like the greatest thing in the world compared to the situation you were about to find yourself in. Theo from the finance department and his same half a dozen jokes seemed like a dream to be across a table from compared to your ex who had just walked through the door of the bar you were at.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

You had less than a couple minutes to try and scamper out before he saw you. And the only reason you had that kind of time at all was because the bar was busy and it would take longer to spot you in the midst of everyone. But the second that your ex got up to the bar with his buddies to order drinks, your cover would be blown.

You dug some cash out of your purse, tossing enough onto the top of the bar to cover the one drink you’d ordered so far and the tip for the bartender. You were zipping your bag back up as you were hopping off the stool that you’d been sitting on. Your eyes were fixed on your purse, frustrated that this was the one time that the zipper decided to jam. The whole time you were straining your ear to make sure that you could hear how close your ex was, trying to hear his voice or his laughter.

“Fuck,” you were trying to weave your way through the crowd but the clusters and groups of friends all lingering and waiting for their chance to slink up to the bar and order were all packed tightly. You didn’t remember when this spot became a popular place to be. You huffed, trying to say, “Excuse me,” loud enough for people to hear you but not so loud that it came across as rude or drew any real attention to you.

A pocket of space opened up and you were more relieved than you should’ve been. Clutching your bag tight to you, you took long, measured strides to try and slip through the small groups of people that had parted ways just enough for you to sneak through. You were almost to the other side of them, almost out of what would be an easy range for your ex to see you, when someone took a step backwards as they laughed and inadvertently bumped right into you.

The fact that it was an accident did nothing to soothe your nerves. Them stepping back sent you stumbling mid-stride and bumping right into someone sitting at one of the few small high-top tables that the bar had scattered around. You felt a hand on your back and the heat flaring up in your face and you were already sputtering out five different apologies at once before you’d even fully turned around to face the person you’d bumped into.

When you looked at his face, all the words stopped cascading past your lips. Still white-knuckling your purse, still feeling like your face and throat were on fire from embarrassment, you found yourself incapable of looking anywhere but at the icy blue eyes staring back at you.

He didn’t look happy about you bumping into him, per se, but he didn’t look as angry or annoyed as other people in the bar might’ve been. No drinks were spilled in the process, which was a bonus. He raised his eyebrows slightly as he looked at you, but his expression was otherwise neutral.

“S-sorry,” you finally forced out, clear but still uncertain.

He shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“Okay.” You nodded, knowing that you should be forcing your feet to carry you away, but you were locked in place.

His eyebrows went from raised to pinched together. Apparently, he took your hesitancy to leave as you not believing his simple reassurance. “Really,” he emphasized with a small nod, “it’s fine. You can go—seemed like you were in a rush anyway.”

Your eyes widened slightly at that, the full scope of the situation coming back to you. You cleared your throat. “Right. Thanks. Thank you. Sorry. I’m just gonna—” you were halfway to motioning over your shoulder when a vaguely familiar voice blared like an airhorn in your ear.

“Well look who it is!”

Turning to look over your shoulder, your stomach dropped. It wasn’t your ex, but you knew that he was going to run right back to your ex and tell him that you were here. Even if you tried to bolt it wasn’t going to do you any good. You were in it now.

“Hey,” you said, keeping it short, trying to make your tone as unenthusiastic as possible.

“Oh, Ricky’s gonna be stoked that you’re—”

“I was just—”

He waved you off. “Wait right here—I’ll go grab him.”

“Don’t—” It didn’t matter what you were going to say next because he was already taking back off towards the bar. You let out a deep sigh. “Fuck.”

You’d nearly forgotten the man stuck in the middle of all this until he spoke up again. “So, who’s Ricky?” There was a hint of amusement to his voice despite the fact that his expression hadn’t changed much at all.

You shook your head. “Whatever you’re already thinking, just go with that,” you said with a shake of your head.

“Rough.”

You had to laugh at the simple response. “Yeah. That’s why I was, you know,” you gestured vaguely towards the door that you had previously been trying to get to as quickly as possible.

You shook your head again, unable to do anything else. Each second that passed you could feel the anxious jitters building. You had no interest in talking to him ever again, and you knew that if he started talking to you, it was going to be nearly impossible to get out of it. That’s just how he was. You were so deep in thought and oncoming panic that you hadn’t noticed the way you were gnawing the inside of your lip until you felt a slight sting from it.

Turning to look at the man who hadn’t asked for any of this, you said, “You don’t owe me a favor, but do you think you could still do one for me?”

He shook his head, “I’m not gonna beat up—”

That got a genuine laugh out of you. “No, no. I mean, I bet you could. But just, can you pretend that we were here together and that we were leaving? I just, I need an exit strategy.”

“What, you want me to pretend to be your new boyfriend so your old one will leave you alone?”

“You don’t have to be my boyfriend. Just, be some friend that wanted to grab a drink with me. And get me the fuck out of here. Please.”

The pause that ensued didn’t give you anything resembling hope. But he must’ve taken just enough pity on you because his shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Alright, fine.”

Relief coursed through you even though you were nowhere near through this exchange yet. “Thank you.”

“What should I call you?” he asked.

You gave him a confused look. “My…my name, I guess?”

Your face and the tone of your response had him feeling whatever embarrassment you’d been battling with earlier when you bumped into him. He saw it all over your face then, and he was certain that you could see it all over his face now. The whole situation was much simpler about sixty seconds ago when you were the more flustered one in the scenario. Now he was the one in uncertain territory. He didn’t know why he asked it like that, but it was what had come out of his mouth when he tried to ask you for your name. It crossed his mind for a moment that maybe you’d bumped into the wrong person to get you out of this mess but it was too late now.

“Yeah. Um, enlighten me?” The laugh that you let out at that wasn’t a cruel one, which was the only reason he didn’t double-down on his embarrassment. You were amused, perhaps even a little relieved. After all, you could’ve just told him your name in response to his first question. As it stood, you told him now and he nodded. “Right.”

You figured you should know his too. “What’s—”

You didn’t get to finish the question let alone get the answer before your ex and his friend reappeared in front of you. They each had a drink in their hand and smug smiles on their faces. The reality of what had you asking ridiculous favors of a stranger you’d only known for about five minutes suddenly crashed down over you again. The knot in your stomach was back with a vengeance as you looked at the man in front of you, knowing that he was feeling none of the dread that you currently were.

“I didn’t believe it when he told me,” Ricky spoke up, nodding in the direction of his friend. “Thought you were still avoiding me.”

You forced yourself to swallow past the lump in your throat. “I tried to tell him that we were just taking off,” you replied, hating how defeated you sounded.

The smug look on your ex’s face disappeared instantly when he heard the word we. It was only then that he realized you were standing right next to a man. A man whose name you still didn’t know but he didn’t know that part.

“We?” Ricky repeated. “Well, care to introduce us?”

You tried not to let your panic show on your face. At this point you were ready to just give this random stranger you’d met in a bar an equally random name and apologize for it later. You barely registered the sound of his chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it away from the table and stood himself up from it.

Fighting the uncertainty out of your voice, you said, “This is—”

He cut you off by putting himself between you and Ricky, holding his hand out for the man to shake in the process. “James,” he said as he nonchalantly slipped his free hand into yours. It wasn’t a gesture you’d been expecting, but you weren’t going to go against it either. There was something reassuring about the callouses of his palm against your skin as he threaded your fingers together. When he broke off the handshake with your ex, he gave a small tilt of his head and said, “Ricky, right?”

You knew that you weren’t doing a good job at all at hiding the pleased and surprised look on your face. The feeling only intensified when you saw the way it through Ricky completely off-kilter, whatever hand he had been planning on playing now no longer available to him.

He cleared his throat, and you noticed the way he adjusted, tightened his grip on the glass he was holding. He tried to recover from the temporary upset. “So, you’ve heard about me, then?” he asked, the look on his face letting you know that he considered it to be a good thing.

You were rolling your eyes and about to come back with something when James beat you to the punch. “Unfortunately, yeah.”

You tried to suppress the smile that wanted to take over your face but you weren’t sure if you did. You found yourself giving James’s hand a light squeeze, instinctively placing your other hand in the center of his back.

Ricky was trying to sputter out a response and James didn’t let him get a single coherent word out. “Like she said,” he gave you a small, gentle nudge towards the door, “we were just leaving.”

“I—”

James was already turning around and taking off towards the door. He called back over his shoulder, more nonchalant than your ex could ever hope to be, “Nice meeting you, Ricky.”

You were glad that the music and general chatter of the bar was hiding the sound of your laughter as the two of you made your way towards the door. Navigating the crowds was so much easier when you were attached to a man built the way that he was—funny how that seemed to work. The two of you were able to quickly maneuver your way to and out the door.

There was no better sound in the world to you than your boots hitting the concrete sidewalk outside the bar. The relief of being out of there was more than you were able to say in the moment, so instead you just kept laughing as you instinctively headed in the direction on the sidewalk that would eventually lead back to your apartment.

In that moment, there was no better sound in the world to James than the sound of you laughing. You were thanking him as the two of you walked away, and he was content to follow you under the guise of being committed to the little ruse you’d put together, to getting you far enough away from the bar to be considered out of the danger zone. He wondered if you, in the midst of your relief, even noticed that you were still holding onto his hand. He certainly still noticed.

You stopped suddenly and turned to look at him, eyes wide. “Oh, shit,” you gasped.

He looked over his shoulder, expecting your reaction to be because your ex had followed the two of you, or something similar. “What?”

You gestured back towards the bar. “Your drink! We didn’t pay—”

His laughter stopped you short. Shaking his head he said, “I was paid up.”

Your shock and tension both disappeared. “Oh. Okay.” It was then that you realized you were still holding his hand. You let go immediately, face warm as you let out a nervous laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

The two of you stood on the sidewalk, a few inches separating you as you faced each other. “So,” you started, the awkwardness that had previously disappeared rearing its head again, “James your real name or just something you made up so my ex can’t stalk you on Facebook or something?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t have Facebook. But yeah, it’s my real name. You,” he cracked a tiny grin, “you can call me Bucky, though.”

You smiled. “Bucky? That, you know, that what I should call you?” you joked.

He laughed, head tilting back slightly as did. He felt the way his face heated up at that and he just hoped that it was dark enough outside to hide the fact that he was probably blushing. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Reaching out, you gently placed your hand on the outside of his bicep for all of a moment, not that it stopped him from being able to feel the warmth of your palm through the blue fabric of his henley. “Well, thank you, Bucky. I appreciate it. Sorry if I totally ruined your night.”

“You didn’t,” he said with no hesitation. “Sorry that your ex ruined yours.”

You shrugged, feeling the way that your lips were slowly tugging up into a smile. “Could’ve been worse.”

“Do you have plans right now?” Bucky asked, unsure of where the question came from or how it got out past his lips.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I was just planning on going home. Why? Have better plans in mind?”

It took him no time at all to realize that he’d walked himself into this with no idea where he was going with it. He knew that he had a decent poker face but even so he had a feeling you could read him like a book in that moment. And he definitely wasn’t reading like a mystery novel.

“I didn’t know if…you know…” he trailed off for a moment, “Wanna get…coffee? Or something?”

You chuckled and gave a small shrug. “Sure. Coffee sounds good.” You started to walk. “Or something.”

He quickly strode to catch up with you. “Got a place in mind?”

You laughed as you looked over at him. “Well, it didn’t seem like you did.”

It could’ve been a much more embarrassing call out if there hadn’t been such a warm look in your eyes. The only thing that he could think to do in the moment was follow you, so that was exactly what he did.

You couldn’t remember the last time that an invitation for a simple cup of coffee had suddenly caused an entire night to slip by. You didn’t even end up drinking all your coffee, too wrapped up in the conversation that you were having with Bucky. Funny that at the start of your evening you’d figured that a night alone was what you’d been needing, and yet sitting across from Bucky at a little café table, going wherever the conversation strayed to, left you feeling better than any number of nights by yourself at a bar or at home.

Bucky was fairly certain that he could talk to you all the way until the sun came back up again. He was also fairly certain that that fact had nothing to do with the caffeine from the coffee he’d had. His cup was empty, but he still found himself toying with it in his hands as the two of you talked. He didn’t know when the last time he got coffee with someone was. At least, someone who wasn’t Steve or Sam or Nat. This felt so foreign and new, yet there was something so familiar about you.

The pair of young twenty-somethings who were working at the coffee shop didn’t exactly tell you both to leave, didn’t exactly kick you out. But you both noticed the way that they were starting to wipe down the counter and tables and you knew better than to be the people who stayed right up until the last minute. Even though this time, you really wanted to. Getting a few more minutes with Bucky almost seemed worth it.

When the two of you were back out on the sidewalk once more, you turned to face him. The jitters you’d had when you left the bar hours before were gone, but there was a new feeling in its place. Similar but different. More excitement, more curiosity, more hope. You didn’t know what to do about it, though, didn’t know what to say to articulate those feelings.

“Well,” you finally said with a soft laugh, “now I really took up your whole night.”

The smile that Bucky gave you was charming enough to nearly have your knees knocking together. “Not the whole night.”

You hummed in amusement. “Then I’ll let you go before it turns into that.”

He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “You’re alright getting home?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I’m only a couple blocks away.”

“I can walk you,” he offered.

You should’ve hesitated at least a little bit, but you didn’t. “That’d be nice.”

The two of you fell into stride beside each other. The first little stint was silent, but not uncomfortably so. You couldn’t speak for Bucky, but you knew that you were trying to figure out what was going to happen when you made it to the main door of your apartment building. You also knew, though, that no amount of overthinking it now was going to make it any easier to navigate then. So, you did what the two of you had been doing successfully for the last few hours, and picked a new topic out of thin air to talk about.

By the time you reached your building, you were walking so close to Bucky that your arm was practically pressed against his. He didn’t seem to mind—it wasn’t as though he was trying to pull away. Every now and then when you laughed, you’d give him a playful little bump, shoulder to shoulder, and Bucky had to fight the urge to drape his arm around you and pull you closer.

Stopping in front of one of the many tall brick buildings on the block, you nodded towards the door before opening your purse to find your keys. “This is me.”

Even though you’d hold him that you were only a couple of blocks away from the café, he still found himself surprised at how quickly you’d arrived. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed that the evening was over so soon. Never mind the fact that the evening had started hours ago, and completely on accident.

It took him a couple seconds longer than it should’ve to realize he was supposed to be saying something to you. “Oh,” he said, trying not to let his disappointment show, “okay.”

You were smiling as your eyes stayed trained on your purse, still fishing around for your keys. “Thank you for, well, all of it I guess,” you punctuated your sentence with a laugh.

He smiled warmly at you even though you weren’t looking at him yet. “No problem.”

“Ah,” you said as you finally found your keyring. You never thought your purse was all that large and yet you never seemed to find what you needed when you needed it. “Right. Well, I’d, um,” you stammered, wanting to ask and say about twenty different things and unable to decide on a single one of them. Taking a breath to get yourself together, you said, “I had a really good time, despite how all of this started,” you laughed for a moment and so did he, “and it’d be, I don’t know, I’d like to see you again…” you trailed off even though you didn’t mean to.

He smiled, relief and excitement battling it out in his chest. “I’d like that.”

Without giving it a second thought, he pulled out his phone and gave it to you, fumbling his way through asking you for your number. He would’ve been more self-conscious about his lack of grace with it if you hadn’t seemed so eager to type in your name and number.

You held his phone back out to him. “So, yeah, let me know when you’re free.”

He reached to take it back from you. There was the briefest moment of hesitation before you let his phone go, one that got him to look up from where your hands were nearly touching and into your eyes. You let go of his phone, and he slipped it back into the pocket of his jeans, but neither of you took your eyes off the other. Bucky couldn’t help but to notice the way that your teeth pulled just slightly at your bottom lip. He found himself opening his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He could’ve let it all die out there, or he could’ve let himself succumb to the nerves of not being able to conjure up something to say, but instead he found himself choosing a third option that he hadn’t even thought was available to him.

Stepping in and closing the tiny strip of space left between you, Bucky pressed his lips to yours. It was gentle, and brief. He pulled away when you’d barely gotten past the shock of him kissing you at all. You saw the way his eyes were searching yours, looking for the cue to either get lost or come back for more. The moment of silence terrified him, almost had him sputtering out an apology.

Then you closed the gap and kissed him again. A little more conviction, a palm resting against his chest. It was a minor miracle that you hadn’t dropped your keys to the ground as he kissed you back. His hand came up and cupped your cheek, palm warm against you despite the chilly night air.

When you pulled away, you couldn’t hide that it’d left you a little breathless. His hand was still cupping your face and it had you smiling wide enough to make your cheeks ache. Fidgeting with the keys in your hand, you forced yourself to speak. You purposely ignored how soft and breathy your voice was.

“You can come up if you want,” you offered.

You were just far enough away from him to see the surprise that crossed his features. “Yeah?”

You nodded, keenly aware of the way his hand felt on your face as you did. “Yeah.”

The slowness of the elevator in your apartment building was usually something that served to be a mild annoyance for you. However, this time, you wished that it would’ve taken longer to climb up to the fifth floor where your apartment was. Hell, you would’ve been fine if it had gotten stuck if it meant you had a few more moments with Bucky keeping you pressed against the wall, his lips capturing yours over and over again.

It was the singular chime that broke the two of you apart, the alert that you’d arrived at your floor. The walk from the elevator door to your apartment door was a short one but it felt tragically long when you had Bucky behind you with his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck. You had no idea how you managed to get your key into the lock so that the two of you could get inside, but you did it.

You closed and locked the door behind you once you were inside. Out of habit you reached and flicked the lights on. Bucky still had one hand on the small of your back, using the other to deftly undo the laces on his boots so he could toe them off beside your door where the rest of your shoes had been tossed haphazardly as the weeks had passed by.

You’d hardly dropped your purse and keys off when he was pressed up against you again, his chest flush against your back. You sucked in a tiny gasp as your body melted back into him. You wanted to say something but the second he was pulling the collar of your shirt to the side and pressing his lips to your shoulders, whatever pleasantries you’d been thinking of went completely out the window.

Even though you knew your apartment like the back of your hand, had navigated through it in the dark and after nights out when you had more than a few drinks, you nearly found yourself stumbling as you walked through the lit-up room with Bucky attached to you.

Once the two of you were in your bedroom, Bucky put his hands on your hips and spun you around so that you were facing him. He wasted no time as he leaned in and kissed your lips, like the few minutes of being unable to had been hours instead. His hands trailed their way up to your face, palms warm and rough to the touch all at once. Keeping his lips on yours, he walked you back towards your bed. You were reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt just as the backs of your legs pressed against the side of your mattress.

Bucky indulged you, assisting you in peeling his shirt off over his head and tossing it aside. Any time that you would’ve spent standing there gawking at him was quickly stolen away as he pressed himself close to you again, firmly but gently getting you back onto the bed.

Every movement felt like it fed so easily into the next. The pair of you were nothing but wandering hands and ragged breaths as you stripped the clothes off each other. The floor was littered with them but neither of you cared. Bucky was down to his boxers, you your bra and panties. He had you pinned underneath him but it didn’t stop his hands from roaming everywhere they could. They wandered across your stomach, up and down your thighs, grazing over your chest. Every touch and graze had you pressing yourself into him more and more, teeth pulling at his bottom lip as you let out little whines and whimpers of encouragement.

You could feel the effect that it had on him. No amount of wanting to feel every inch of you underneath his fingertips could stop him from grinding his hips against yours. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had him feeling so desperate so quickly—he didn’t know if there ever had been a last time.

Like you could hear his thoughts, Bucky felt your fingers curling over the edge of the waistband of his boxers. You started pushing them down his hips and Bucky had no intention of stopping you. He quickly kicked them off the rest of the way before his fingertips dragged down your stomach until they slipped underneath the waistband of your panties. The lightest brush of his fingers had you bucking into his hand and whatever plans he’d had to drag this out no longer mattered. He easily pulled the flimsy fabric down your legs, making quick work of it as you lifted your legs to help.

It took every last shred of Bucky’s self-control to not just slip right into you. The way you had your legs wrapped around his waist would’ve made it so easy to do. He kissed you, neediness bleeding from his lips to yours as his hands continued to trace lines up and down your thighs.

“Do you have—” Pulling away just enough so that your lips weren’t touching anymore, but not so much that you couldn’t feel his breath on your skin as he spoke. He managed to get out half the question he had before you cut him off.

“Top drawer,” you answered, already knowing where it was going.

The chuckle he let out got a smile out of you. The awkwardness and discomfort that occasionally accompanied first-time hookups was nowhere to be found. He pressed a brisk kiss to your lips before leaning and reaching over for the handle of the top drawer of your nightstand. You took advantage of the momentary position of vulnerability that he was in, lifting your head to kiss and then suck a mark where his neck met his shoulder. You heard the groan he let out, but more than that you could feel it as you kept your lips pressed there.

Him quickly tearing the foil of the condom with his teeth shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, and yet you found yourself staring. He caught it, too, and the smirk on his face would’ve made your knees week if you’d been standing rather than on your back beneath him.

You watched him roll the condom on, biting down so hard on your lip you were surprised that you didn’t draw blood. Your eyes slowly traveled their way back up his torso until you were looking into his. The eagerness, the tension in his body could be felt in all the places the two of you were connected. Even so, he still waited for one more yes from you.

The yes he was waiting for came in the form of you putting your hand on the back of his neck and pulling him down into a kiss, in the way you wrapped your legs a little tighter around him and pulled him in closer to you. You felt the way that he instantly gave in, slowly pushing into you as you moaned into his mouth at the sensation. You felt the way that he smiled into your kiss as your nails bit down into the flesh of his neck and shoulder.

“Fuck,” he rasped out, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. He took a moment to revel in it, the feeling of being buried into you so that his hips were flush against yours.

Moving your hand from the back of his neck so that it was cupping his chin, you pulled him back into another kiss. You felt each little hum and moan that he let out as he started to thrust into you, his arms on either side of your head caging you in. He kept himself pressed tightly to you, leaving your hands to wander the broad, muscular expanse of his back. The way you moaned his name, the moments when you’d rake your nails down his back, let him know that he was pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

He peeled himself off you, separating his chest from yours. You longed for the contact as soon as it was gone, but before you could think too much on it, he moved one of your legs so that it was draped over his shoulder. When he picked up his rhythm once more, you were grabbing onto his hips before you even knew what you were doing, begging him not to stop like he’d ever even dream of that in the first place.

Your leg was starting to tremble against his shoulder. Instinctively he turned and pressed a kiss to the side of your calf as he continued to thrust into you. Your grip on him tightened as you breathlessly moaned, “Just like that.”

A few more thrusts just like that and you were coming undone around him. He soaked in every moment of it, the feeling of you, the way you cried out his name, the way your body arched and tensed before going pliant.

He was chasing right after you, after that same high. He was nearly there and the soft, needy way you whined out, “Bucky,” in the waves of aftershock sent him clean over the edge. His hips stuttered as he came, your name tumbling from his lips. He collapsed against you, face buried in the crook of your neck as your legs went back to looping around his waist, keeping him pulled tight and still inside you.

You weren’t sure if it was your own heartbeat that you were feeling thudding in your chest or his, but you supposed it didn’t matter. Both of you were fighting to catch your breath, bodies practically melting into each other’s. You wrapped your arms around him, hands gentle on his back where just minutes before you’d been digging your nails into the cords of muscle there. He kissed the column of your throat, the little bit of stubble that was growing in feeling extra ticklish in your sensitive state, enough to get you to giggle and twitch at the sensation.

Once he’d gotten a little bit of his breath back, he propped himself up enough to look at you properly. “You okay?”

You laughed, unable to do anything else but that and nod for a moment. Finally, you said, “I’m great, yeah.” It got a chuckle out of him as you reached and trailed your fingertips down his cheek. “You okay?”

He nodded before leaning in and kissing you. “I’m great.” A few more moments passed in comfortable silence, the two of you just taking in the sight and state of each other. You noticed the small shifts in his expression, and you waited for whatever was coming next. “Um,” he looked over towards the door of your bedroom, “where’s your…so I can…”

You laughed, head dropping back against your pillow. “Out the door and to the left.”

He chuckled, a blush creeping over his cheeks. “Thanks. I’ll be, you know, right back.”

You afforded him the illusion of privacy as he searched and grabbed his boxers off the floor and scampered off to your bathroom. You chuckled as you managed to get yourself out of bed, making your way over to your dresser on wobbly legs to you could grab your own shirt to sleep in. You were back in bed and under the covers by the time Bucky came back.

When he got back to your bedside, he reached down and grabbed his shirt off the floor. He didn’t make an immediate move to put it on, instead just holding it loosely in his hand. “I can—”

“Stay,” you didn’t even want him to put the idea of leaving out into the universe. Not after the night the two of you had just had. “I mean,” you laughed softly, “if you want. I’d like that.”

There was no hesitation as he dropped his shirt to the ground. “Okay.”

He easily shimmied down underneath the covers beside you. You curled into him, allowing his arm to slip beneath you and pull you tighter so that your head was resting on his chest. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the thrumming of his heartbeat. You also started to feel not just the tiredness in your muscles from everything that had just happened, but also the exhaustion of how late it was now.

The same tiredness was present in Bucky’s voice as he spoke, words partially mumbled as he spoke them into your hair. “Light’s still on out there.”

“Leave it,” you replied words equally mumbled as you said them with your lips partially pressed against his chest. “I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

The hum of amusement that he made let you know that he wasn’t going to worry about it now either. Draping his other arm around you, he slipped his hand underneath your shirt so that his hand was splayed across the center of your back and keeping you tight to him. Nestling farther into him, you rested your palm on his chest as you finally let yourself start drifting off to sleep.

(divider by @saradika-graphics 💞)

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