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healingpage · 3 days ago

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vindicated (swear i'd never do it again) - choi yeonjun

ꕥ pairing: bf!yeonjun x afab!reader

ꕥ genres: smut, angst

ꕥ rating: 18+ mdni

ꕥ warning: dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, arguments, confrontations because they are adults, reader cries a lot, cheating (implied), make up sex, unprotected sex, oral (f.rec) multiple orgasm, fingering, riding

ꕥ wc: 6k

ꕥ a/n: i actually hate this... i've been gate keeping it since last year because of it but nevertheless enjoy

The noise of rain tapping on the windows corresponded with the racing beat of your heart. Weeks had passed since the previous arguments, yet the ensuing silence felt even more distressing. Yeonjun's brown coloured long trench coat still hung by the door, his cologne subtle yet persistent in the air—a harsh reminder of all that was left unsettled between you.

You sit on the floor of your shared apartment with legs crossed, browsing through the pages of a vintage photo album. Your eyes soften at the shiny pictures that seem like it quite narrates a tale of love that seems unstoppable for both of you. Yeonjun was smiling at a summer festival, his eyes almost closing as you guys were hit with warmth from the sun. You were right there by his side, kissing his cheek. Another picture captured you resting on his shoulder during a late-night train journey. At that time, your friends had playfully teased you about your inseparability, during your early stages of relationship, attached closely to each other’s hips all the time.

However, it seems that his love, you don't know, maybe it has faded as time passed. Like a withering flower that is waiting for a moment to shatter on earth, words that were once delivered with sweetness now carry a sharpness. Of course at first, the arguments began minor: late response to messages, any sorts of miscommunications that could have been resolved with an apology. Soon arrived the yelling disputes, doors being slammed, and evenings spent in different rooms. Yeonjun was always the avoidant type, rather than to sit together and talk he prefers to distance himself, stressing you out at the lack of communication.

As you are occupied with countless thoughts, you hear the door slowly being opened, causing you to look up abruptly. Yeonjun enters, his jet black hair evidently wet from the rain. He appears unchanged yet changed, his eyes bearing a heaviness that didn't exist previously. For a brief time, neither of you said anything. The atmosphere in the room was dense, laden with unspoken thoughts.

"You’re still around," Yeonjun eventually says, his tone distant.

"Now you don’t want me here? Where could I possibly go?" You coldly answer, hurt by the question, or his choice of words. Your hands quickly shutting the album and putting it down.

He moves a step closer, then two, then he is standing not even two steps away from you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. "I was wondering if perhaps you… I'm not sure." His voice is toned down at the end, like he’s not sure what to say.

"Isn’t that what you do?" The resentment in your voice was unignorable, tugging at the string of his heart. "You are gone whenever situations become too tense, you always walk away."

Something flinches inside Yeonjun hearing that, but he refuses to look away. “And you always hold on too tight,” he counters back, his voice trembling. “Like you’re afraid if you let go even a little, everything will fall apart.”

“Because it will fall apart, Yeonjun!” Your voice goes up three tones higher, it even cracks, but you care less about that when you have tears welling up. “It already is. Can’t you see that?”

“What do you want me to do, Y/N?” he asks, his voice breaking as well. “I’ve tried to fix this. I’ve tried to be enough for you, but maybe… maybe we’re just not compatible.”

His words hang between, heavy and suffocating. It feels like he’s admitting defeat, like acknowledging the storm both of you trapped in will never clear. And God, does it hurt. The constant effort you make to understand him better, the lies he told to your face you turned blind eye into, the missed important dates.

“You think I don’t know that?” you whisper, your voice barely audible to him. “But even after everything, I can’t walk away. I… I love you, Yeonjun. Even when it hurts. Even when you hurt me, over and over. I can lose everything, but not you…”

Yeonjun’s shoulders droop, and for the first time in a long time, he looks guilty. He stares at your wet face, your disheveled form, your trembling hands. You never look so broken, his sweet darling, the apple of his eyes, his precious love appears like a broken piece of glass before him, it wrenches his heart thinking that it was from all his doings.

“I love you too,” he admits, his voice raw. You can feel his gaze soften a bit, eyes no longer angry. “But is love enough if all I do is hurting you?”

The question is like a stabbing knife to your heart. You both knew the answer, but neither has the courage to say it aloud. Silence fills the air once more, the rain pouring outside is like a brutal mirror to the storm inside your apartment.

Finally, Yeonjun closes the distance between you. He hesitantly kneels in front of you, his hands trembling as he cups your face. “I don’t want to lose you either,” he says, every word that comes up from his mouth shakes. “But I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Maybe we can’t fix it,” you replied, your tears spilling non stop now that he’s got his hands on you. It is obvious that his hand is cold from the freezing weather outside, yet it spreads warmth inside you as you lean further into his comforting, healing touch. “Maybe we just have to accept that we’re broken. But I’d rather be broken with you than whole without you. I don’t wanna give up on us, Jjunie.”

Yeonjun leans his forehead against yours as he hears the nickname, his own tears falling. You let him engulf you in his arms, arms brushing over each other giving you goosebumps on the realisation that you went on a week without him. His chest heaves up and down, relaxed heartbeat calming you down as you savour the moment.

“I am sorry, baby,” he is the first one to break the silence. You could not pinpoint whether he is sincere about it, but his eyes are telling you like you matter the most in his world. “I hurt you, didn't I? How’d you sleep this past week?” His voice laced with concern, tone so dulcet and sweet you feel like you are falling into a gush of sugar. Knowing you hardly fall asleep without him around, his mind floods with sorrowful guilt.

“Horrible, I missed you,” you come clean, him smiling so softly you would miss it if you weren't right in his hug.

“Poor baby, I missed her too,” he uses his usual baby tone to talk to you, stroking the back of your head while you find yourself closing your eyes at the comforting contact.

“Wanna cuddle?” He's asking so nicely, not even waiting for your answer as he lifts you up from the cold floor, wrapping your legs around his waist. He walks you both to your shared room, your heart thumping as you feel butterflies all over again. The room hasn't changed since the last time you guys slept in the same bed and room, clean simple beige sheets that Yeonjun had changed after your last intercourse being where you land on.

He's taking off his jacket, the only thing that he wears on his upper body being the black sleeveless shirt that drives you crazy everytime you see those on him. Your eyes that are set on him trembles a bit, forcing you to let out a cough.

“It's January. You shall wear something more warm.”

“I could warm up being next to you,” he's quick with his witty answer, already jumping on the bed again, pulling you yet again into his embrace. His face is buried in your neck, lips dangerously wandering around your sensitive areas you breathe deeply as you bite back a moan.

“Jjunie, I thought we were only going to cuddle,” you interrupt, yet you find your hands tangling in his strands of hair, noticeably longer since the last time you held onto them.

“Aren’t we?” his lips latching on your skin by now, gently sucking on the flesh before he lets go, leaving a fresh mark of him on you, reclaiming his territory. He retreats for a while, lips part as he hears the small gasp that comes up as you notice the hickey. “So beautiful…”

As you remain captivated by his alluring move, seemingly innocent as he keeps making out first, then his hands start to roam not only over but now under your clothing a little. He strips your top off first, fondling at your tits.

“Tell me if you don’t want me,” he pauses, looking at your expression. Your doe eyes look at him, a bit glassy. His stomach churns at that, just a moment ago, you were yelling at him but now, under him you could not deny his contact with your body.

“Oh—” you moan out, feeling every inch of your body craving for his touch more and more, you could feel your underwear sticking onto your entrance by now, your arousal grows greedier. “Yeonjun.”

“Am right here, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“Want you, need you, all of you, oh my god—” your words are cut at how he would make easy work of the tiny shorts that wrap you, he slips them off quickly, palming your ass before slipping off the lacy underwear too.

Then his shirt is off in a minute, before long you're staring at one spot on his chest, your voice that says his name shrieking. Yeonjun is confused at first, before he looks at the direction you are setting your eyes to. His eyes widen as you shove him away, your trembling hands pulling the comforter to cover your body.

“Was–was there someone else?” your voice comes up shaky, eyes glistening with tears that pools at your lower lid. Yeonjun is silenced, a lost look evident in his face. “Y/n…”

“Answer me!” Your tears are falling now, your heart crushed at how he’s not quick to reassure you, to deny your assumption, anything. The bruise mark on his chest, one that was not created by you. Sure, your relationship had been quite flimsy at times after a solid three years, but you never had a reason to doubt his love for you. Every time you argue, it was never about a third person. The third person has never come into the picture. “Did you sleep with her?!” you shout, Yeonjun flinches at the tone.

“Baby, I don’t–”

“Then, what the fuck is that on your neck?” you ask, squinting at a faint purplish mark near his collarbone. It was positioned enough to be hidden when he’s wearing a shirt, but now that it’s off, it’s so evident.

Yeonjun covers the hickey with his hand, the movements rushed and awkward. “Oh, this? It’s... nothing. Just a bruise from a fall,” he mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

“Let me see,” you say after a long silence, your tone firm but he can see the way your lips tremble. Yeonjun hesitates a little, but you reach out your hand, and he lets you inspect the spot. You feel your stomach turn as you lightly run your fingertips over it. You aren’t foolish, it was not just any bruise; it was distinctly shaped and coloured like a hickey.

Your heart drops as you feel the reality of the situation. “That has nothing to do with a fall. Be honest with me.”

Yeonjun’s face changes, and the room falls quiet for a brief period. Both of you, especially Yeonjun, feel anxious about the occasion.

He wobbles with "I... I can explain," but his words sounded unsure, and you feel that is an insincere answer. Like he’s hiding something.

Your head whirl with feelings of betrayal, rage, hurt, and disbelief. This has turned into the rifts in the trust you had established together, not simply about the mark. Your head feels heavy, turning down as you cry.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, y/n!” he’s also yelling now, frustration overcoming him. Guilt, sadness and anger mixed in as he breathed in, his own eyes wet. His heart breaks seeing your state, it’s not the first time he sees you crying but this time you look incredibly heartbroken, miserable and not just upset at him.

“Then, what, what would explain this, Yeonjun?” you are fully sobbing, words imprecise swallowed by your cry.

“I was just… at the club okay? I was drunk, I don’t even remember–”

“Fuck that!” you cut him off, your voice burst with fume. “Do you realize how this looks?! How does it feel to even think you might’ve cheated on me? You try to sleep with me when that mark hasn’t even disappeared?!”

“Baby,” he tries again, trying to get closer to you.

“Don’t baby me,” your voice cold as ice in line with the gaze you now give him. “I don’t know, I thought you would never do that to me. I would never find someone else as long as I’m your girlfriend, Yeonjun. So stupid of me to hold on to you, I should have left long ago, so I don’t feel this hurt, because now I love you so much—too much, it feels even more painful…” you confess, finding yourself laughing at the absurdness yet your tears keep on rolling non stop. “If you don’t like me anymore you could just tell me. I would pack my things myself so you don’t have to rub it in like this.” Sniffles exit your nose, the back of your hand become the temporary napkin as you rub your tears away.

His eyes softened as he reached for her hands, his touch warm but cautious. “Y/n, I’d never hurt you like that. I love you. Please believe me.”

You pull your hands back, turning away to hide the tears welling yet again in your eyes. But before you could retreat further, Yeonjun closes the gap between you both, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Y/n, look at me,” he whispers, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re everything to me. I can’t stand the thought of you doubting that.”

You turn slowly, her tearful eyes meeting his. There is sincerity in his gaze that makes your heart falter, and along that, a little of expectation because you can still feel the love. It’s still there in his eyes, filled with it and warmth as he looks at you.

“Explain to me,” you say, trying to steady your voice but Yeonjun, knowing you through, could catch that you are still hoping for his denial, still hoping that it isn’t true what you see. With a regretful smile, he cups your face gently, brushing tears away, his fingers on you treating it as delicate as possible.

“Won’t you judge me?” he carefully asks, studying your expression as your brow rises in confusion.

“It depends,” you answer, short, simple and clear.

“Saturday,” he starts, “I was at Taehyun’s. I was stressed out about our fight, and then he persuaded me into going to the club. Relax a little. I had a drink, maybe two but I was so wasted, I don’t remember who was it, I don’t know her, it was a random girl there, I’m gonna be honest we make out a little, and she did this,” he pauses, touching the mark, before his gaze settles on you confidently this time, “Taehyun came up, and he dragged me out there, telling me all about it the next morning. He was meaning to tell you everything first, but I told him not to, because I want to settle things ourselves.”

“Why didn't you tell her you’re not single,” you complain, lips pouting as you contemplate the story, it seems believable but you don’t know for sure. “And why do you have to be so hot, people literally couldn't leave you alone.”

He softly laughs at that, before turning serious again. “I am sorry, pretty girl,” he apologizes, “I don’t know how to mend things that have already happened, I know I should’ve known how wasted I’d be and just head home.”

He then grabs your comforter covered waist, pulling your head to land on his chest, letting you wet it. Your sobbing grows louder first, hands reluctantly creeping up to touch his shoulders. “I am sorry, oh baby, you don’t know how sorry I am, it’s all my fault, should have stayed that night, just hold you close until you’re not upset at me.”

“What can I do to earn your forgiveness, tell me, gorgeous,” his voice is whiny now, almost pleading when your sniffles haven't stopped. The hand that is holding onto your back scatters random shapes on it.

“Then prove it,” you mumble, looking up to him again, your voice barely audible.

Yeonjun cups your face gently, you look very endearing with cheeks red, eyes swollen and lips pouting a bit, his thumbs brushing away the tears remaining on your cheeks. “I’ll spend my entire life proving it,” he says, the sound of his confession thick with emotion.

Your lips meet together in a tender kiss, one that starts slow but it quickly deepens as you could feel the desperation in his touch, the regret, the unspoken promise that he’d never betray your trust.

He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you back on the bed where you can place your head on the pillow comfortably. His hands roam your back as yours are tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The tension between you dissolves into a shared need for closeness, for reassurance, for reconciliation, for love.

Seconds later, he's immediately invading your personal space, arms around you in a tight, needy embrace. He has his face nestled in the crook of your neck, a heavy breath that tells you he's relieved and something familiar, something that you hunch as love.

“Jun—“ he smashes his mouth against yours, tongue pushing past your lips, the taste of chapstick that you're familiar with, the one that he only uses during winter due to dryness. Desperate sounds leave both your mouths, you are whining while he's half groaning. His body pressed against yours, separated by the cover that hasn't left your body. When he finally pulls away from the passionate kiss, his eyes find yours, filled with affective and yearning.

“I missed you s’ much, princess, how did I survived a whole week without you,” he presses a kiss to your neck, tongue tracing the collarbone with a cherish that signifies his worship on you.

“Would you allow me, princess, I want to make it up to you, please,” he looks up at you with his big, puppy-like eyes, an expression so pitiful it’s admirable. The desperation behind them makes it difficult to say no. You aren't better, your whole body is craving for him.

“Touch me,” you let out a soft whimper, arching into his touch. "Please," you breathe out, and he happily obliges, the cover is off the bed instantly.

Then his hands travel down your sides to your hips, fingers digging in as if to keep you anchored to him. The hand then kneads the meat of your ass, your breath hitches as he goes down on you, nails digging into his arms as you inhale deeply as if committing you to memorise his scent.

“My girl’s so pretty,” he slurs out, before he dives into your pussy, your hand goes flying to grab onto his hair as he splits you open through his tongue.

“Yeonjun!”

“Sorry,” he murmurs against your inner thigh, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise in its wake. He says sorry, but his action doesn't match the word. “Has been so long since I munched on this.”

Your toes curl, eyes thrown back at the way he is switching between licking and sucking, almost like that's the whole purpose of his life. his scruffy cheeks hollow as he sucks a hickey into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He was right though, it has been a while, the pleasure is almost foreign to you.

“Are you still my girl?” he questions, sounding cocky like the usual Yeonjun you know. The sexy, intimidating confidence that has you weak in your knees every time. Your only response is a moan, causing his lips to turn into a smirk, “Of course you are, I‘m the only one that can get you this wet, baby. Correct?”

No longer able to give him a reply, he continues to work his mouth on you. His tongue is relentless, it is sucking onto your entrance, then it is swirling around your clit with increasing fervor. The pace is sloppy, uncoordinated, messy even sometimes, but it only serves to bring you higher to the excitement of it all. Each time he pulls back, you can hear his heavy pant in search of breath, feel the way his mouth lets out your name.

“Oh, Y’jun—” your mindlessly thrown words trail off into incoherent mumbles as you feel closer to the edge, bringing you the sensation. “So close, please.”

The urgency in your begging translates to him as an invitation to continue. The way your entire body is wound up so tense, unwittingly ready to snap. He moves his thumb finger to press on your clit, skilled enough to actually let another two of them be inserted in your pussy, curling them just right so that they’re pressing against that dangerous spot that has you seeing stars.

“Shit, you just got way wetter, you have been craving me that much, huh,“ he chuckles against your thighs, and he's not completely wrong. The way he's re-arranging your inside, it's like he's trying to prove a point, to prove that as much as he needs you, you need him too.

"Wanna cum, please," you gasp out, and then he increases the intensity, your thighs shaking like crazy before it all stops as your liquid gushes out. Yeonjun is more than glad to pick up some of it, slurping them from his fingers. His sexy gaze and your quivering ones meet, silent praises and apologies heard from the way he's caressing your waist gently.

“You haven't come yet,” your sweet voice echoes in his ears. You are still the bundle of love for him, always thinking of his pleasure when you were just crying betrayed by his trust earlier. With agony, Yeonjun is shaking his head, presenting you with a small smile.

“No, it's okay princess. I should be fine, let's go to sleep, hmm? You are tired, I'll hold you,” he's denying you, aware of how relaxed your body is after having your orgasm, you must be so sexually frustrated the whole week. On top of that he knows how bad your sleep was affected due to your argument. Your eyes have been drowsy for a while now, yet you find strength to get up, straddling his lap.

“Love shall go both ways, as much as I mean the world to you, you mean the same to me. What you want from me, I want you the same way too.”

Your eyes staring at him, the honesty in it clear as crystal. Your hand that he is missing so much takes off his pants. The skin against his feels so soft, you are moving a bit behind to kneel before him.

“You really don't have to, princess,” he's saying again, hands caressing your hairline. You look up to him with round eyes, determined to mean what you said earlier. In a brief moment, you are presented with his hard-ons, the sight making you drooling. He's denying you once again with the look in his eyes, so you confidently reply, “I wanna do this.”

“Fuck," Yeonjun breathes out, eyes twisting shut as he feels your warm throat enveloping him. He collects your hair in his fist gently, holding it as you swallow him whole. Your hands move to rest on his thighs, pretty acrylics pressing on it whenever another inch of him goes in.

The feeling of your mouth enveloping him has him pulsing in your throat, his lips part as lewd sounds of him moaning leaves. “You're doing so well for me, babe.”

You take the praise to relax your jaw, letting his tip hit the back of your throat. Your eyes water at the feeling, hurriedly tapping his thighs to let him know the cue. He tightens the grip he has on your hair as he starts to move your head on his length, forcing you to take more and more of him till your nose brushes against his pelvis.

He moves your head up and down, his thrust harsh as he makes you take his entire length then leaving only his tip before repeating the entire process, moaning out your name whenever his head brushes against your throat.

You know he is getting close—you could feel him pulsing in your mouth, as a layer of sweet coated his forehead despite the cold room, making him glow so charmingly. You inhale a deep breath, before sucking in your cheeks, humming his name around him, knowing it is exactly what it would take to throw him over the edge.

“I'm close, baby,” he pleads, inaudible chatters of moans follows after as you double your efforts, and as expected a few seconds later his release spreads through your throat as you continue to bob your head to swallow.

Yeonjun’s chest is heaving, his hair a disheveled mess as he leans his hand heavily against your head, staring down at you like you’d just knocked the wind out of him. You guys stay silent for a while, eye contact with each other being the only sole communicator.

And when you place your legs on either side of him, both of his hands finding their home on your waist, your hole wet and slick enough, ready for him, he’s once again starstrucked, the feeling's overwhelming like you’re made just for him. He bites his lip when you slide down with a whiny mention of his name, you stay still for a moment, and he's all but resist as he needs the comfort of you being wrapped around him right now just bad.

Your eyes could not help but trail down to the mark from earlier, upsetting thoughts taking over you as you encounter the upsetting thoughts again. Your eyes tremble with tears as you hold onto Yeonjun’s shoulders, you begin to sob again, the sight making Yeonjun uneasy as he’s even more apologetic when you are so clearly hurt by the smallest mark, yet the biggest mistake he had made.

"You're mine, you got that?" you sniffle, your touch on him soft but it feels possessive enough to Yeonjun at that point of time.

"Of course, all yours baby, only yours," he breathes as you part your lips, looking down on his neckline. Your eyes briefly glance over the hickey painted over his chest and it leaves the feeling of your heart throbbing in your chest. Unshed tears sting at your eyes, the sound of incoherent sob immediately puts him to sit up against the headboard, holding you close to him.

“I’m sorry, we shouldn’t do this, let’s just—”

“No,” you decline immediately, hands clasping together at his shoulder trying to push him back to let you be in charge. You bite back a sob, “I want to do this. Want this off you,” you snivel, looking pitiful and so eager to get the mark to be hidden by your own, your lip finding its way to his skin, sucking on it before your teeth sink on the same exact spot that leaves Yeonjun wincing in pain. He’s staring at you deeply now, heart wrenched as droplets of tears roll down your cheek in frustration.

"I should’ve been better, should’ve tried harder, I'm gonna make things right, love, I swear," he's spurting all his emotion out, hands scrambling to make their way to your thighs and helping you to move.

“Swear I’d never do it again,” he adds, his pillow-y soft lip rasps across your sensitive neck as he plants gentle kisses all over it. The action is filled with reassurance, infatuation, and warmth. Quite literally soft and tender, far from the agony that had filled your heart only moments before.

“There, princess?” he's asking, his tip reaching your sensitive spot, your voice exceptionally high pitched when you reply to him a yes.

He's much more attentive tonight. Usually sex with him was rough, which you couldn’t complain about or dislike, but there is something adorable about him being so soft with you that always made this a lot more enjoyable than usual. His kisses and praises doubles, along with the occasional apologies, his promise to do better. Your mind goes out from while to while, unable to comprehend the actual sentence that he forms. You are just glad he's holding you, grounding you from blacking out.

“Let me show you my love,” he helps you on your back, his dick sliding out for a while, smiling softly when you make a fuss for it, “I know, it's okay, baby,” comes out his mouth as he thrust up into you, sucking at your neck to leave a few more love bites.

“Faster,” you whimper, dissatisfied at the slow pace.

“We'll get there, so impatient,” Yeonjun chuckles, his hand brushing against your arms to settle into your breast, fondling it. Your desperate moans filled the room, the pace slowly building up. Your hand travels down to your clit, rubbing it before it gets shoved away by Yeonjun instantly.

Before you could question his denial, he whispers a stern “I could do that,” as you relax to his touch, his skilled fingers working its magic. You wrap your arms around his shoulder, pulling him into a kiss, moaning into his mouth as he brings you closer to your high.

He hums against your lips as you tighten around him when you reach your orgasm, peppering the softest kisses all around your face while his hands mapped out your precious body that he’s come to cherish so much. Someone as lovely, as flawless, and as serene as you is a blessing for a man like him, a man who is emotionally lacking and aloof. Your body shakes with the overstimulation, a small smile escapes as he slows the pace, tender and consistent thrust to relax you.

“You feel so good, baby.” His eyes trailing down your body to where you are connected, the base of his cock wraps with thick white rings of your arousal, and his mouth opens at the vicious sight. He watches closely for your expression every time he plunges forward; your hips moving to meet his, thrust for thrust despite your previous orgasm. “Pussy made for me, yeah? Missed me that much?”

Each harsh thrust makes your tits bounce and forces a moan out from you as a response. Yeonjun chuckles at your lack of words, the sight admirable for him. The pleasure on your part made it difficult for you to even make out his expression or words anymore, feeling like you are on cloud nine for a second and a second later you are back on ground.

“Gonna make it up to you, promise,” he’s mumbling in between his praise for you, left at his mercy as he draws various shapes on your clit to push you further in ecstasy, another orgasm creeping in as you hold onto his shoulder tight.

As you let go for him, the endless words of flattery along with assurance of the love he has for you acts as your company. He’s slowing down, waiting for you to come down from your high. As your breath and heartbeat falls into a stable rhythm again, he’s back to thrusting slowly, your breath hitches as you are flooded with oversensitivity, wincing at the intrusion.

“Shh… I’m sorry, just a little bit more, pretty,” his whisper sends relaxation, trusting him with everything as you nod, occasional whimpers leaving your mouth at the slight discomfort. You shift your entire focus on him as he reaches his release, eyebrows furrowed with a slightly opened mouth as you reach your hands out to touch him on the cheek. The contact subconsciously draws a moan from him, resting his forehead on yours.

“Baby,” he calls out, “I’m sorry, I love you.”

Your lips twitch into a small smile, nodding as you rub his cheek yet you say nothing. The silence is deafening, Yeonjun himself cringing as he pulls out from you slowly. None of you breaks the silence as he gets up first to clean himself, allowing you to take a small nap before being woken up by him, for the never forgotten aftercare.

“Do you mind if I sleep with you tonight? I wanna have you in my arms.” The question arises from him as he buttons your pyjamas for tonight. He takes in your cozy state, eyelashes fluttering as you look up to him. You rarely ever see his nervous state, he is a person that always exudes such kind of charisma, carrying himself with confidence, at least around you, yet he seems least intimidating, nervous and very cautious with that simple question.

He isn’t looking for grand gestures or dramatic declarations. What he’s asking for is something simple, intimate, and deeply human: the opportunity to lie beside you, to hold you, and maybe even to begin the slow process of rebuilding what was lost, piece by piece. For a moment, you let yourself believe that this time, it might be different. That he genuinely wants to start anew and make amends, not just relive the moments of the past.

“Of course, Jjunie. Hold me, and don’t let go.”

At your reply, Yeonjun nearly jumps, placing you snuggly in his hold, not missing the opportunity to land a kiss every each and a while on your forehead as you relax and allow yourself to doze off.

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martyfive · 3 days ago

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I'm new here, have you ever gone more in-depth about your ocs lore? Specifically Nomalanga, River, Leo, Chelsea, all those guys??? I've been looking through your oc tag and their designs are so so so interesting and that post of Noma and Tom at their workplace has me so intrigued!! Where do they work?? What do they do??? I wanna learn all about them!!!

hi! first of all, thank you so very much for these questions! i was so shocked someone is actually asking me about my OCs i had to take a breath.

i’m not actively talking about them anywhere, and it’s because i’m stupid i don’t know yet how to do that without spoiling the whole story they’re all a part of. it’s gigantic, but some details reveal everything right away, and i only started working on it recently so i don’t know how to talk about anything. i’m gonna do something with this idea eventually (a book? a comic book? a book with pictures? a concept book? omg) so to spoil it completely feels silly. but i will try to explain at least some of it here anyway!

River (they’re on my user pic) is the first OC i ever came up with (it happened almost ten years ago) and for a long time their story was completely different and more or less used by me as ‘i’m gonna think about this when i feel down’ crying pillow even if i still tried to do something with it. last year wonderful things happened to my brain chemistry, and the story changed. and although River stayed the same, the story they’re a part of became more relevant to me.

this is a story about a giant factory, a machine that although was created to do a good deed in general, sooner or later becomes a tool that passively sponsors the long-lasting war, and a main character that refuses to see and do something about this fact. the factory is so gigantic people live there for generations. kids are being born there, shops do their things, entertainment systems are functioning, etc. but the main thing is, the factory is orbiting the planet. and it’s not Earth. some people living there haven’t seen the planet the factory is working for with their own eyes. and i’m not gonna tell you what the factory’s main objective is.

all the people you mentioned work there, each one different job. for someone the factory is a home (like for Thomas whose family has been living there for the last hundred years) and some feel trapped there (like Leo who’s working her prison term off), but all of them are a part of one giant tale of love, death and space junk.

i don’t know how many years i’m gonna spend talking about their stories, but it feels like my whole life’s work and i promise i will try my best. maybe some of you will stay here to see where this is all going! and this is more than i can ask for.

again, thank you so much for asking!

#martyfive ask #original art #original comic #original story #martyfive ocs #character design #original character #ocs

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weneededthat · 6 months ago

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My first cosplay at Dragon Con!

#dragoncon #dragon con #dragon con 2024 #Misty #as low effort as it is lol #I didn’t have any red shoes but I already owned the shorts #ordered the shirt and suspenders online #I know it was last weekend but I finally have the energy to post lol #I always love telling people that I love their cosplays but I finally got to be on the other side!#i got a lot of compliments it was very fun #one teenager told me I was the best Misty he’d seen all weekend???#different guy actually asked me for pictures??#(he sent them to me after‚ that’s the second picture)#will totally wear this exact outfit again at least once next year #Maddie speaks

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sentientcave · 3 months ago

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Masquerade

You've come to this masquerade ball to finally dispatch the man you've wanted dead for nearly ten years, but he's always ruining your plans, one way or another.

Contains: 2nd POV OC (sorry about all the blushing), werewolf MMC (sadly he doesn't do any fun werewolfy things he's just a guy with sharp teeth here), vague fantasy setting, murder attempts/reminiscence of murder attempts, a long and storied history only alluded to, what do you do when your bitter enemy turns out to be a silly little guy who just wants you to love him?, oral sex (w receiving), P in V sex, this spawned a whole ass novel and it's so so different but this lowkey holds up.

See end for Notes

~10k words - NSFW - 18+ MDNI

“My, don’t you look exquisite,” a voice purrs in your ear.

You freeze in place, glad that the mask hides the colour that springs to your cheeks. You feel like a naughty child caught with your hand in the cookie jar, an unwelcome guest at his masquerade. You thought you could escape notice, slip through the crowd of finely dressed nobles and plunge your knife into his chest at last. But he had managed to find you first. You weren’t ready. You hadn’t been to the garden to pick up your hidden cache of weapons, you had nothing but your silver hair-stick to dispatch him with.

His heavy hands land on your shoulders. “Don’t muss up your pretty hairstyle just yet, darling,” he whispers in your ear, his voice rasping like sandpaper. It’s as if he can read your thoughts. Or perhaps, after all these years, you’re simply predictable. “There will be plenty of time for that later.”

You flinch at the cold press of his mask against your bare shoulder. You shouldn’t have disguised yourself as a guest. You feel defenceless, wrapped in silk and sheer chiffon, a neat little morsel delivered straight into the wolf’s jaws. He could shift in a second and shred you into little pieces, like he had threatened to do so many times before. You try to still your frightened, thumping heart, and pull away, turning to face him at last. “I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean,” you say, because it’s worth a try at least, but he’s laughing before you can even finish, the smiling mouth of his gold wolf mask mocking you. His yellow eyes glitter from it’s depths, watching you.

“Oh darling, I would recognize you anywhere. I hoped you would be unable to resist my invitation.”

“Your invitation?”

“Yes, dearest. All of this was for you. I knew you could not resist the chance to get so close to me again.”

“To kill you,” you remind him hoarsely.

He chuckles and takes your hand. “Perhaps. For now, a dance, I should think. You haven’t danced all night.”

You dig in your heels, trying to resist his insistent pull, but he simply wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you closer. “I don’t dance,” you tell him sharply. “Let go of me.”

“You’re a liar,” he replies, spinning you into place, one hand on your lower back, pinning you against his chest, and the other still clasped around your wrist, sliding up to engulf your hand. He simply tugs you along with him as he moves, sweeping you along to the music, holding you so unbearably close. He could lift you off your feet with ease, if he chose to, and you don’t have enough power to resist. His scent clouds your mind, cedar soap and clean, animal musk, one of many hints of the wolf that dog him even in his human shape. “You forget, I knew you in your past life. Or have you forgotten that I once sat in your father’s halls? I have seen you dance.”

It was so long ago now, another life, before he was only the wolf to you, and before you were the thorn in his paw, that you almost had forgotten. You had hardly given him a second thought at first, he was just another visiting knight, here one day and gone the next, handsome, but beyond the concerns of the girl you once were. “You failed to make an impression,” you tell him sharply, although it’s not true. You do remember his yellow eyes watching you one night, though he never asked you to to dance. He never spoke to you at all.

Not until after. He saved you, of course, from the bloodbath, because he had claimed you. He hadn’t so much as said a word to you before he burst into your bedchamber, monstrous jaws dripping with your fathers blood, yellow eyes wild. You still remembered beating him back with the fire-place’s iron poker, and jamming the tip into his chest before you ran for your life.

“I knew you were mine from the first,” he continues. He seems frighteningly aware of your thoughts, as if his own version of the memory is playing out behind his own eyes. “My lioness, avenging her wicked father with a poker. I still bear your mark, just above my heart.” He presses your entwined hands to his chest for a moment. “I’m certain you remember that, at least.”

“Unfortunately.”

“The only unfortunate part,” he says patiently. “Is that I did not take you as my mate that night.”

His words lance through you like lightning, burning everything in their path. Your knees nearly buckle, and if he were not holding you so securely, you would sink to the floor in a useless puddle of silk. How dare he make you weak, after everything he’s done to you? But anger gives you strength, reinforces your spine with steel, and you wrench away, glaring at him, wishing you could set him ablaze with your eyes.

The music falters. You look up, at the musicians gallery, then around the room. Everyone watches, pretending not to, jewelled masks concealing furtive eyes and whispered words. Your own mask feels insufficient, lightweight and flimsy under the wolf’s eyes when your eyes return to him. He takes your arm, his grip tight, but not bruising, and guides you out of the ballroom, into the cold night air. The dark gardens are just a little too far for you to jump down from the wide stone balcony, and there are no stairs leading down. If you jump, you’d probably break your leg, and then you’d be helpless.

“What do you think of our home?” he asks. “Have you snooped around yet, my darling? Planned all your exits and hidden away your weapons and armour? I made sure you’d have plenty of opportunity. I know how you love to prepare.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t found them already.”

“I have been busy with other preparations,” he says mildly. “But I thought I smelled something of you in the corridor by the library.”

You flinch, only confirming that you had in fact been there, hiding your leather armour inside a large vase. “Preparations for what?”

“Your homecoming. The king has made it clear that it’s time to reign you in, or he will have someone else deal with you.” He pulls the mask off at last, setting the golden wolf on the balcony. Sweat glimmers at his temples, catching light from the ballroom behind them. He offers you a wry smile, his sharp white teeth flashing. “I’ve been too lenient with you.”

“Lenient?” you ask, incredulous. “I’ve been trying to kill you.”

“Those who attempt such things do not usually live long,” he reminds you. “I don’t often show mercy. I’ve allowed you to live free, in the hopes that you would come to me willingly, in time. Now it seems I can no longer afford to continue our little game. You will stay with me, or someone else will be sent to arrest or kill you.”

You press your palms into the smooth railing, wishing desperately that you could absorb the cool, dependable steadiness of stone through your skin. You look at him for a moment while he stares out over the dark gardens, his yellow eyes tracking movement you can’t see.

He’s always dressed in black, like a man in mourning, his black curls cropped short around his slightly pointed ears, beard neatly trimmed. He wears little jewellery for a man of his station, just the yellow-gold signet ring with it’s heavy, dark blue sapphire on his finger, and the gleam of jet buttons down the front of his tunic. You were more used to seeing him in his armour. The heavy black plate suits his brutality better than black-embroidered silk.

Silk offers no protection, no shield over his wicked black heart.

You pull the hairpin from your own neatly arranged curls and move fast, striking at his chest, but he catches your hand easily, his amber eyes meeting your fury with amusement. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” he asks. “Stubborn creature.”

He plucks the pin from your hand and spins you around, pushing you into the railing with the oppressive weight of his presence. Your protests are weak and hardly noticed, but you fall silent when you feel the rough pads of his fingertips on the back of your neck. He gathers your hair up and pins it back in place, not as neatly as you had done earlier, but sufficiently.

“What are you doing?” you ask numbly.

He turns you around, still standing far too close. You stare forward, at the point where his skin meets the collar of his tunic, your eyes glued to his pulse. You wish for teeth as sharp as his own, so you could tear out his throat. His fingers curl under your chin, nudging your face up, forcing you to look him in the eye again. “Just returning your pin,” he says, smirking. “Why do you seem so flustered, darling?”

“Why don’t you just kill me?” you ask. Your hand lifts up to knock his away, but you touch him instead, fingertips ghosting over his knuckles. You know he’s capable of crushing you with hardly a thought. You’ve spent the last ten years learning all you could about him, hunting him down again and again and again with a single-minded determination. He likely could have killed you a thousand times over, if you’d been just a little less careful, or he a little less eager to capture you instead. He should have killed you. You don’t know how to stop anymore, you don’t know how to let go of the terrible anger that burns you up every time you think of him. You want him to suffer, to lose everything, to hurt the way he hurt you. “I’ll never stop.”

There is a flicker of sadness in his eyes, and it pings against your heart uncomfortably. “I never could,” he says, all traces of his smirking, superior air gone. His thumb strokes along your jaw. “I begged the king for your life. Your father may have been a traitor, but you were an innocent girl, and I do not enjoy killing innocents.”

“I’m not innocent anymore.”

“No, I suppose not. But you’ve committed no crimes that I cannot forgive.”

“I don’t want your forgiveness.” Your voice is hardly more than a hoarse whisper. You want to shout, but his hand on your skin seems to leech all the power out of you.

“You have it regardless,” he whispers back, low and intimate as a lover. He touches his forehead to your mask, his eyes boring into yours, twin suns scorching everything in their path. “And someday I will earn yours.”

“Never,” you hiss. You return to your senses and push his hands away, shoving hard against his chest. “I hate you. I’ll always hate you.”

He tugs your mask off and tosses it to the side, tired of pretense. “If you hate me so much, why does your heart beat like that?”

“I’m afraid of you,” you snap.

He laughs harshly. “No you’re not. You’ve never been afraid of anything, my darling. It is one of the things I love best about you.” He leans in closer, the tip of his nose just brushing yours. You can feel his breath on your skin, the sharp smells of whiskey and mint setting your nerves on edge. For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you, and you freeze, heart pounding, face turned towards him, waiting for the axe to fall.

But he withdraws instead, leaving you to face the consequence of unrealized want. His words prick at you like the point of a sword. Love. As if he would know the first thing about it. As if he knew you.

But he does know you, you realize with a start. He made you. His actions had set you on your path, and his choice not to kill you, each time that he should have, had created the determined, single-minded, furious woman that you had become. The carefree girl who you had been was long gone, dead the first time the wolf’s jaws closed around your throat. It burns you to think that he’d shown you mercy all along, that you had escaped capture or death by his leave, rather than by your own cunning and skill.

His eyes remain on your face, reading your thoughts like you’re a book laying open, waiting for him to happen by and discover all your secrets. “You have become worthy of me,” he continues ardently, pressing your hand to his chest again, anchoring it with both of his own. “I would have kept you like a bird in a cage if I’d taken you then. A pretty thing to amuse me and adorn my halls. But you are no trophy, my love. You will not survive in captivity. Even now, with the king’s sword hanging over your head, I will not force you to stay.”

“Is this some sort of trick?”

“I used to wonder the same thing. A cruel trick of fate, that my mate would hate me so fiercely.”

“You killed my father,” you hiss at him. You yank your hand away, desperately stoking the anger that has kept him at bay all these years. Each time he calls you mate and darling and love your resolve quakes, and you have no sword in your hand to make him regret it, like you usually would.

“He was a traitor. I had orders.”

“And what comfort will that be when your orders are to kill me?” you ask, sneering up at him. “What will you do when your orders are explicit and undeniable, and you are to kill me on sight?”

“I’ll never see you again.”

You aren’t sure what you expected, exactly, but it always trips you up when he speaks plainly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you snap.

“What do you think it means?” He hurls the words back at you, his anger lighting from your own. “It means I would pluck my own eyes out before I’d kill you. If the king ordered me to hunt you down I’d stay one step behind you until we reached the very ends of the earth. If he came outside this very moment and told me to snap your neck—” He shudders, shaking his head like a dog shakes off the rain, and when he looks back at you the anger is gone, hidden away again behind his steely resolve. “Loyalty only goes so far. He knows not to make an order I cannot follow. If he truly wants you dead, he’ll ask another.” He glances over his shoulder, keen yellow eyes fixing on a point somewhere inside. “I hope it does not come to even that.”

“But why?”

He lets go of your shoulders and turns around, stalks a few feet away, and turns again, pushing both of his hands through his hair in frustration. Because I love you!” he snarls. “You had me the first day you tried to run me through. Oh I wanted you from the first moment I laid eyes on you, beautiful thing that you are, but it was the first moment that you tried to cut my heart out that I knew there could be no other. You have no idea what it’s like, to love such a stubborn, foolish, bitch of a woman? Do you understand what it will do to me, when you leave? But I have never been able to keep you by force.”

“But you let me go,” you say numbly. “You said—”

“Let you go?” He laughs, striding back towards you. “Oh my love, you misunderstand. Just because I couldn’t kill you does not mean I didn’t try to keep you. But you have slipped every chain I’ve placed upon you. I’ve never pulled my punches. I would not disrespect you so.”

“You called it a game—”

He inclines his head towards you. “I did. Perhaps I should not have. But it was easier to think of it as a game. A test of my own worthiness. I admit, I have always looked forward to your attempts on my life. It’s good, I think, for a man to be beaten once in a while, to keep him sharp. Otherwise he forgets to be vigilant.” He sighs, touching the edge of an old, silvery scar on your shoulder, brushing a loose strand of your hair out of the way. “Besides. We’ve both made our marks upon the other.”

“I’ve gotten you more times than you have me,” you say, lifting your chin imperiously. “Two or three times I really thought I’d finished you off.”

“Are you so certain of that?”

You think about it. “Yes.”

“Care to make a wager, dearest? If you’ve left more marks on me than I on you, you may ask anything of me.”

You draw in a steady breath. “And if I lose?”

He grins. “Not so confident now, are you? I only want what is freely given, so you needn’t worry. You can name your own penalty.”

“How magnanimous.”

“I can be,” he says. “Now, shall we inspect each other here, or would you prefer somewhere more private?”

The thought of being alone with the wolf makes you shiver, but it’s not revulsion that you feel, it’s something far worse. The dark, cold balcony seems a world away from the golden ballroom with all it’s legions of beautiful, elegant guests, but it’s only panes of glass that separates you from them, hazy from condensation, opaque enough that you doubt anyone can see through them. It makes no material difference, in the end, but it’s winter, and the cold seeps through your dress easily, your skin only warm where he touches you. “Ah, yes,” you say nervously. “Perhaps somewhere more private.”

“And warmer,” he adds. “As stunning as you look, I do not believe you are dressed for the weather.”

As if on cue, a snowflake descends from the dark sky. You reach out your hand, catching it against your palm. A moment later, the sky is thick with snow, fat, fluffy flakes catching the light and turning the world white. You look back at him. He looks softer, somehow, with that little dusting of snow catching in his thick curls, melting flakes glittering like diamonds on his shoulders. For the first time, you’re struck by how young he looks. He was a man grown at your first meeting, and you had always thought of him as much older, but you know now that he couldn’t be ten years your senior. You suspect it’s much less than that.

It changes something in your perception of him. Softens him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, stepping in close again. Although you’ve hardly moved an inch since you came out to the balcony, he’s full of restless energy, moving away and back again like he’s tethered to you by some invisible string. He tilts his head to the side, his keen predator eyes practically glowing in the soft light.

You were glad your face was already flushed from the cold. “I was just thinking. You look so…” You trail off, thinking of the best way to phrase it.

“Handsome?” he suggested. “Strong? Irresistible?” He wiggles his thick black eyebrows, grinning wickedly, making you laugh despite yourself.

“I was going to say young, actually,” you say. “I was wondering what sort of boy you were.”

He holds a hand out to you. “I’m sure there’s a portrait somewhere, if you’re curious. Now come along, pet, I don’t want you catching a cold out here. I do have a wager to win.”

You hesitate. All the ancient, bitter anger and sadness wars with something new in your chest. It’s been so long since you wanted anything more than vengeance. Ages since the last time you felt deep, aching want for someone’s hands on you, if you ever even had. The obsession between you, at least, was mutual, and you had traded the excitement of romance for the thrill of the hunt, the clash of your sword against the wolf’s. His taunting sounded better than flowery poetry to your ears, and you could not help but seek him out every time the loneliness of your new life became too much to bear. He had been your focus, your centre, your reason for existing for so long that you can no longer deny what this is.

Love is not always kind. Between the two of you, it’s become a desperate, wretched thing, living on scraps of attention and hungry looks traded in battle.

His fingers close around yours, and you realize that you’ve reached out and taken the offered hand. You look at him, and he’s smiling in a way you haven’t seen before, half-hitched up on one side, almost shy.

He twines his fingers through yours and leads you back through the ballroom, slipping around the edges of the crowd like the wolf he is. No one seems to pay either of you any mind, although you feel curiously bare without your mask, as visible as a hare in a field to the eyes of a hawk. But your hunter is holding your hand, his thumb stroking over yours soothingly, like he can sense your unease.

Despite that small reassurance, you’re grateful when you step into a nearly empty corridor. A few well-dressed servants carrying trays bustle between the ballroom and the kitchens at the far end, but your wolf leads you the other way, through a few hallways littered with decorative items and portraits of long-dead nobles with eyes that seemed to follow you. You had been there only a few days earlier, but it looks different now. Perhaps it’s that you aren’t on constant guard for the wolf. He’s already here, holding your hand, pretending that he’s not watching you, just as you pretend to look at the portraits and statues and expensive looking vases you pass by, stealing glances at him only when you think you can get away with it.

The silence between you is almost comfortable, both of you too caught up in your individual tumble of thoughts to put anything to words. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking. You wonder if he feels like he’s won already, but there’s none of his usual taunting or his infuriatingly handsome smirk. He looks serious, black brows lowered in a sort of pensiveness that you’ve never seen from him. Of course, you had only once gone so long in his company without attacking him physically, and you had been tied to a chair, at the time.

“Do you remember, a few years ago, the hunting lodge just above Lake Pym?” he asks.

You laugh. “I was just thinking about it. Why?”

He stops in front of a door and leans against the frame. “Do you think you’ll be able to go as long without trying to stab me this time around?”

“That depends on whether or not you tie me up again,” you quip back.

“Don’t say such things,” he warns you, opening the door and holding it open, letting go of your hand for the first time in ages. Your fingers feel cold without his touch. “You’ll give me ideas.”

“You’ve made far too many confessions tonight for me to believe that you didn’t already have ideas,” you tease. Funny how easily that comes, like you’re old friends and not enemies. A tidy little fire burns in the stone fireplace, with a cozy arrangement of rugs and furs laid out before it. A low table sits ready, carrying wine and glasses and a few plates of the sort of interesting finger-foods that they had been serving in the ballroom. Raising your eyebrows, you look back over your shoulder at him. He hadn’t spoken to anyone on the way in, which meant that it had been all prearranged.

He closes the door behind himself and leans against it, grinning sheepishly. “I live in hope.”

The room - his room- is neat, a big bed with four posts carved like small trees, green-velvet curtains tied back neatly, is the first sign that he might actually like colour. You imagined him always in sombre black and white, dark hair, white teeth, dressed like the reaper and often so employed. But perhaps he isn’t as stark as you’d always thought. His furniture is solid and well-made of warm-toned wood, and the bookshelves that flank the fireplace are stuffed with books, the odd space cleared out for knick-knacks and trophies. You had never considered that he might like to read. It isn’t something that has ever come up before.

The wolf sits down on the furs and nudges a black lump by the fire. The shape uncurls into the biggest, fattest, blackest cat you’ve ever seen and pads over to you, sniffing your skirts suspiciously.

“You have a cat?” you ask, because it seems unlike the picture you’ve built up of him over the years. Another thing you missed. You had been so focused on him as an enemy that you had hardly stopped to consider him as a man. You sit, and the cat drapes itself across your lap, purring already in anticipation of a good scratch.

“I don’t have a cat,” he corrects you loftily. “Smudge is the matriarch of a proud line of excellent mousers, and she is a valued member of the household. One cannot own a cat, I have learned. One co-habituates with cats.” He leans over and gives the cat a little scratch under the chin, his knuckles just barely brushing your knee as he withdraws. “She isn’t usually very friendly, but she must recognize a fellow assassin when she sees one.”

“I’m not much of an assassin, I’m afraid she’d be terribly disappointed in me. I’ve failed to kill my only target, and I have been at it for quite some time.” You give the cat a scratch behind the ears. “I’m sure her record is much more impressive.”

He frowns and looked at you in a funny way. “Have you never taken a life?”

“I’ve tried very hard to avoid it. You’re the only person I ever wanted dead, and I— I wanted to be better than you. I wanted my hands to stay clean, so I could beat you and still keep my sense of…” You look down at the purring black puddle of fur in your lap rather than at the wolf. “Oh I don’t know. Righteousness, I suppose.”

“So sweet that you wanted me to be your first,” he teases.

You know he means first kill, but you turn pink anyway, and there is no cold wind to blame for your rosy cheeks this time. There were many firsts that you had missed out on, in your bid for vengeance. “Perhaps I still do,” you snap, not thinking about the double meaning until after the words have left your mouth. You scramble to clarify. “My first kill— Not— Ugh.” He begins to laugh, and you cover your face with both hands, wishing the floor would open up beneath you and swallow you whole. “Stop laughing!” Your voice is muffled by your hands, but there is no way that his keen wolf’s ears don’t hear you perfectly. “That’s not what I meant!”

He snorts. “I know, pet. It’s a bit late for that, I should think.”

You peek at him between your fingers, and his eyebrows shoot up.

“Darling.” He leans over and gently takes hold of your wrists, prying your hands away. He is mercifully no longer laughing, but the look in his eyes only makes your face burn hotter. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve never taken a lover.”

“There was never a good time,” you manage to squeak out. It was half true. There had been offers, and moments when you’d been sorely tempted to share someone’s bed for the night, but the few fumbling kisses you’d shared with young men had failed to thrill you the way that crossing swords with the wolf did.

He sits back with a groan. “You’re always throwing wrenches into my plans.”

“How on earth could that have anything to do with your plans?” you ask hotly.

“Darling, don’t be so naive. My plans were obviously to seduce you into my bed so I could out-perform every man who had ever touched you, forcing you to admit to yourself that we belong together. But I suppose that would have been too easy.”

“Too easy!”

“I would never imply that you would be easily seduced, my love, only that I am fairly confident that you would have a harder time denying what we are if I were to employ my considerable athletic ability with the task of making you come undone.” He smiles ruefully. “But seduction isn’t fair if you’re a virgin. I’ll have to win your heart the old fashioned way.”

“The old fashioned way?” You stare at him, incredulous. “What, you’re going to court me?”

“I’m certainly going to try,” he says, turning toward the table to pour you a glass of wine. “It’s the long road, but you’ll find I’m usually more than willing to take the scenic route.”

“You’re insane,” you say weakly, accepting the offered glass. “You must be.”

“Must I be? Like you said, I’ve made far too many confessions tonight, you must know that I do not mean this as some passing fancy. I think it would be a waste to continue this bloody crusade of yours. For both of us. I confess my bias in the matter, as I rather enjoy living.” He shrugs, looking at you over the rim of his own glass. “Do you? Has your life been all you wished for, these past ten years? You’ve forgone comfort, education, friends, romance, children— Do you want none of those things?”

“Of course I do—”

“Then take them. Everything you want is yours if you stay.” He takes a sip of wine and winces, face screwing up like a child tasting something bitter. “Ugh, I hate wine.”

“I know. I was wondering if you were going to drink from that glass you’ve been waving around.”

“I just wanted to indicate that it wasn’t poisoned.” He sets the glass to the side, still grimacing. “Just in case you were wondering if I was still trying to trick you.”

“It had crossed my mind.”

“Perish the thought, my love.” He stretches out in front of the fire, propped up on one elbow. “I’ve laid down my arms. If you must end this once and for all to free yourself, so be it. But I do think my alternative is better.”

You set your wine to the side as well and reach back to pull the silver hair-stick from your curls. You consider it, for a moment, pressing the point into your fingertip, not quite hard enough to draw blood. He watches with an inscrutable expression, making no move to disarm you. The cat slips out of your lap and stretches, moving off into the shadows again, either unaware or uncaring of the danger to her house mate. Or perhaps she’s simply more aware than you that there is no longer any danger.

You reach out and place the make-shift weapon on the rug in front of him.

The crackle of the fire is the only sound for a long moment. The wolf was rarely rendered speechless— getting him to shut up was usually the more difficult task. But he simply looks at you, like you’ve performed a miracle in front of his very eyes.

You slide one of the plates of food off the table and set it on the floor between you, something to hopefully distract his attention a little. You pick up one of the little triangle pastries and take a bite, catching crumbs with your other hand. You eat two more, realizing that you haven’t eaten in hours, and wait for him to break the silence.

He sighs and rolls onto his back, tucking both hands under his head. Firelight dances over his skin, burnishing his features like well-polished bronze. Although you have known him a long time, you’ve never studied him like this, while his eyes are closed and his usual grin is smoothed out into a peaceful smile. He looks noble, like a hero from the epics you used to read as a girl, more like you remembered from the days before everything changed.

“You’re staring,” he says without cracking an eye.

“How would you know? You haven’t opened your eyes in ages.”

“And how would you know that, if you haven’t been staring?”

He has you there. “Alright, fine. I suppose I was. I was just thinking about… about before.”

He opens his eyes. “How long? We do have a rather storied history, don’t we, love? I myself have been thinking of Lake Pym.”

You smirk. “I bet you have. I had a feeling you were rather enjoying yourself.”

“I was. It would have been more fun if you were a more willing guest, or if I at least didn’t have to keep you tied to a chair the whole time.”

“You wouldn’t even let me feed myself,” you lament, though you can’t help the traitorous note of amusement in your voice. “It was terribly humiliating.”

“Revisionist drivel!” he snarls playfully. “I did untie you so you could feed yourself, and you tried to stab me. You forced my hand.”

You blink. “I suppose I did.”

He leans closer. “I suspected you just wanted me to take care of you. You were too proud to ask me for what you wanted, so you forced the situation. And snapped at my fingers the whole time like an absolute menace.” He holds up his right hand and displays a white mark around the first knuckle of his thumb. “That’s one, by the way.”

“I only bit you because you stuck your finger in my mouth,” you reminded him.

“Ah, I suppose I did get a bit carried away, didn’t I? There was just this moment when I touched your lip…” He reaches out as if he wants to repeat the remembered gesture, perhaps hoping for a better outcome, but he hesitates, dropping his hand. You almost wish he hadn’t. “Are you still too proud, my love?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

He senses your weakness. The way the answer drips with doubt like blood from a wound. “Will you let me kiss you?” He moves closer, anticipating your answer before it leaves your lips.

Your breath catches in your throat. “Yes.”

At long last, he closes the distance between you, hands cradling each side of your face. He just barely brushes his lips against yours, and holds you back when you try to chase him, his familiar wolfish smile lighting up his face. “Not so fast, my darling. You’ll have to ask nicely, if you want a proper kiss.” He unbuttons the cuff of his black shirt only a moment later, his eyes dropping away from yours for a moment, and then rolls up his sleeves. “Two and three, respectively,” he says, pointing out two more scars along his forearms. They were both from similar situations. Two times that you had disarmed him and made him bleed for it. You reach out and touch the silvery marks, feeling the smooth gap in his arm hair and the fully repaired muscle underneath the flawed skin. “You’re a better swordsman than I,” he says, reaching up to unlace the top of his tunic. “I might have had the edge of experience, at the beginning, but you quickly caught up to me, didn’t you? It was a good thing you were so scrupled about killing people other than me, or I’d have lost far too many good men to your blade.”

“You’re just trying to flatter me.”

“Is it working?” He pulls the tunic and shirt off in one go, baring his chest. There are a few scars there that you could not claim, and two that you can, although your eyes are drawn to one in particular. The ugly, uneven star right next to his heart, where you had run him through with the iron poker on the night of the wolf. “This one is my favourite,” he tells you, pressing one of your hands to the scar. “The first time you tried to kill me. Jon had to half-heal me himself, or I wouldn’t have made it to a proper healer in time. It’s partially why there’s such a scar. He’s always been terrible at the more subtle magics, but if you want something blown up, Jon’s your man.”

You laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Make sure you also note, in that treacherous little mind of yours, that he will not employ his considerable magical gift with the task of making me explode. He is still rather fond of me, even after all these years.”

“It is good, I think, to have a king that is so well-versed in the art of restraint,” you say mildly.

“Oh yes, I imagine it is.”

“So is it really just the five scars?” you ask. “That’s all?” Despite the truce the two of you had settled into, you felt strangely disappointed that your obsession with killing him over the last decade had resulted in only a handful of scars. It all felt like a waste. You try to console yourself with the knowledge that he heals more rapidly than most men. The scars you have left are despite that.

“There’s one more, on my thigh, but I imagine you probably don’t want me to take my pants off.”

You do want him to take his pants off. “Yes, that’s very thoughtful of you,” you say instead. “I suppose you’ve won, anyway. I have a lot more than six scars from you.” You had expected that his life as a warrior would have marked him more significantly. You’re covered in scars, faded and fresh alike, and there is no getting around the fact that you feel like you’ve stitched yourself up so often that you look as worn down as your oldest, ugliest shirt.

The disappointment in his eyes is gone so quickly that you aren’t entirely sure you hadn’t imagined it. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it, won’t I?”

“You’re just trying to get me out of my dress,” you say hotly.

“Obviously. You look very lovely in it, of course, but I have been hoping for the chance to peel it off of you.”

You shake your head. “I think you’ll be a bit disappointed.”

“Never. What would possibly deter me at this point, darling? If stabbing me through the heart didn’t erode my affections, what could?”

“Oh I don’t know,” you say thoughtfully. “I could have scales, or a tail—”

“I have a tail,” he reminds you. “And I’m quite positive that you’re human, so I’m not worried about scales. Or strange birth-marks or stretch-marks or scars, either, by the way.”

You take a deep breath and stand up, turning your back to him. “It would help if you could undo all these buttons for me,” you say, sweeping your hair in front of your shoulder. “There are so many of them.”

He jumps to his feet and scrambles to help. A few buttons plink to the floor, torn free in his haste. “I’ll have it fixed,” he says hastily. “And I’ll buy you new gowns. As many as you can stand.”

You glance over your shoulder, nervous laughter stilling on your tongue when you see the look in his eyes. You turn forward again, sliding your arms through the sleeves and shimmying the gown to he floor. He gives you a hand to steady yourself as you step free. “I— I don’t want— I won’t stay.”

He hums in response, gathering up the gown and laying it over the back of a chair.

“I won’t,” you repeat yourself, as if the words will sound convincing the second time. They don’t.

“I already told you, darling, I won’t make you stay. It’s up to you.”

He draws you back to your seats in front of the fire, and you offer him your arms. You’re riddled with fine scars, most of them faint, little nicks from his blade. His hands slide up to your shoulder and gently tug the capped sleeve of your chemise to the side, baring the imprint of his jaws. His thumb runs across the marks, his other hand landing on your knee.

“I wondered if I’d bitten you that night.” He moves closer, his tongue moving over his sharp canines as he sighs. His fingers trail down your arm as his touch drops away. “You never turned, so I wasn’t sure.”

“It doesn’t always take,” you say, using his shoulder to help you back up to your feet. “I think it depends on the moon. New moon, that night. If you were any other wolf you never would have shifted.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” He settles back on his heels, looking up at you. “I can’t say I’ve thought about why some bites take and some don’t. I’m not as observant as you, my love.”

Laughable, when his senses are many times greater than your own. It’s not his observations that are the problem, it’s the connecting cause and effect, thinking about consequence for more than a moment. He’s faced so few consequences in his life that it doesn’t come naturally to him. You, on the other hand, are a mess of consequence, action and reaction measured and weighed, failures poured over until you can see every mistake you’ve made, follow the tracks to how things could have been, if you’d done it all just a little differently.

You pull your skirt up so you can untie the ribbon that holds up your stocking, and he slides it down to your ankle. “This one’s only indirectly your fault,” you say, angling your leg so he can see the trail of pocked scars that wrap around your knee and up your thigh. “When I jumped down that ravine. Scraped myself up on the rocks.”

He tuts, hands reaching for these scars too. It’s just an excuse to touch you, certainly, but you make no move to stop him. You just hold your skirt up, giving him unfettered access to your skin. His amber eyes flick up to your face, and he leans forward, pressing his lips to your knee.

There’s no halting the soft “Oh” that falls from your lips, but he would have heard even the softest catch of breath. There’s no hiding from him, and it terrifies you, leaves you so unsteady.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment, his exhale warm against your skin. “You shouldn’t show me any more,” he tells you. “I find myself wanting to kiss every inch of skin you show me, and I worry that you won’t stop me if I try.”

You sink back to his level and pull your stocking back up, tying the ribbon around your thigh again. “Would that be so bad?”

He groans and lays back on the furs, hands neatly folded on his stomach. “I am trying to be a good man for you, darling. You deserve more than I can give in one night. I need at least a few weeks to make you fall hopelessly in love with me before I can do anything that would tempt me to take you to bed.”

You run your palm over his stomach, feeling the soft pelt of hair over his warm skin, letting your curiosity guide your fingertips. You feel the expansion and contraction of muscle as he breathes in and out, tucking one hand under his head so he can watch you more easily, his eyes barely open.

You have to admit, he is handsome, especially relaxed like this. Only a few short hours ago you would have found the idea of him kissing any part of you abhorrent, but now you find yourself similarly compelled. You take his hand and kiss his knuckles, the tips of his fingers, the palm of his hand.

“Come here, you little minx,” he growls, trying to pull you down on top of him. You pull back, and he lets go, still worried about pushing you when you’ve made so many overtures in such a short time.

You had expected him to hold on tightly, however, and overbalance, tipping over the other way with an inelegant little squeak. He laughs as he sits up, and you do too as he helps you back upright. He lays back again, and there’s no resistance when he takes you with him this time. He tucks you into his side, and you look down at him, chin propped on your hand.

“I rescind my earlier statement,” he says.

“Which one?”

“You don’t have to ask nicely for a kiss, darling. I worry that you’re too prideful to admit that you might like one, but if you can steal one whenever the mood strikes you, I might be lucky enough to receive a few impulsive ones that your good sense isn’t fast enough to stop.”

You huff. “Is this your way of asking for another?”

“It’s my way of asking for as many as you might want to give me,” he says. “There is, of course, a standing offer of anything you might like that is within my power to supply. I think it prudent to remind you.”

He’s a ridiculous kind of man. You’d always thought his tendency toward verbosity was just him grandstanding, but now you see it for what it really is. He wants to be understood by you so desperately that each sentence becomes overwrought, less clear for his efforts to imbue each word with meaning. Your own tendency toward blunt, inelegant language is an almost laughable counter. You say little, and hide everything you can, and he reads you plainly. He speaks like a poet, puts everything out in the open, and you misunderstand him on purpose.

Perhaps that’s why you didn’t see this for what it is a long time ago. If you were not so determined to make an enemy of him, perhaps you would have noticed the softness in his eyes, the way he looks at you as though you’re the sunrise and set, like you’re the moon and all the stars in the sky.

You kiss him, before he can open his mouth to speak again. There’s nothing lacklustre about the way your lips slide over his, the way your breath mingles, the way he makes little noises of satisfaction, unable to be quiet even with his tongue flicking over your top lip, encouraging you to open up for him. Angling your head to keep your noses from smushing together, you oblige, letting him lick into your mouth, his arms circling you, holding you tight against his body.

You can't put a name to the feeling that sparks between you, but it's the thing that's been missing from every kiss you've had before.

The heat, the need of it all burns away all that remains of your carefully maintained resolve. He loves you, fool that he is, and you're not sure you could survive without him now. Is that what love is? To mourn even the thought of their absence from you, to cling tightly and never let go? To sink into each other until you're one, two halves of the same whole?

He kisses you until you're breathless, lips swollen from the tug of his sharp teeth, jaw curiously sore from moving in a new way. You pull back first, braced on one arm as you look down on him. He's beautiful, more than human, wild-eyed and fey, but solid and warm beneath you in a way only a man could be. His imperfections make him dearer to you, not just the marks you've drawn on his skin, but the gap between his two front teeth, the way one brow arches a little more than the other, giving him that permanently skeptical look that had always made you feel he was making fun of you. The crooked smile, the notch in one ear.

You know his face more intimately than your own, but you still want to look at him, especially through this new lens.

“I don’t think I want to wait,” you admit. You’ve waited long enough, haven’t you?

“Are you certain?” he asks.

“I don’t see what difference it makes, really.”

“It makes a great deal of difference. I’ve taken enough from you, I don’t want you to regret it.” He gazes up at you, tracing along your jaw with careful touch.

Your heart races rabbit-quick in your chest, and although you're the one looking down at him, you feel pinned in place by the wolf's eyes alone. "Then make sure I don't," you say softly. "I can even promise not to make another attempt on your life until the morning."

"Darling…"

"Please. I don't know how I'll feel tomorrow, but tonight I think I want your hands on me."

"You think?" His fingers catch around the back of your neck, as though he's waiting for some cue before he pulls you back into his arms.

“I know.”

He pulls you down for another kiss, rolling the two of you so his big body stretches over yours, your underskirts bunching up as he slots his thick thigh between yours, pressing against your core. He holds most of his weight off of you, but you’re still trapped beneath him. For the first time in a long while, there is no panic, no desire to fight furiously for freedom. You feel quite content where you are, especially when his thigh flexes, rubbing against you firmly, sending a shower of sparks through your belly. You gasp against his mouth, your hands skimming down his sides gingerly. When he does it again, you dig your fingers into the muscle of his back reflexively, murmuring apologies as his lips leave yours and slide down your bared throat.

“Don’t,” he growls against your pulse, dragging his tongue roughly over your skin. “Don’t apologize. You won’t hurt me.”

His teeth graze the slope of your shoulder, finding the older scar from his lupine jaws. You let out a shuddering gasp when he bites down lightly, not even hard enough to leave a mark. There’s a part of you that wants him to leave a mark, a bruise if not something more permanent, but you’re not sure you’ll be able to convince him out of gentleness tonight.

He kisses down your chest, grinning up at you when he reaches the top edge of your corset. “You are still wearing far too much clothing, my love. Come here.” He stands in a smooth movement, and you’re untethered without the weight of his body against yours, but only for a moment. He helps you to your feet and leads you to the bed, taking a seat on the edge and pulling you between his knees, turning you so he can loosen the laces of your corset.

You shed the garment as soon as you’re able, as well as the extra petticoats. Your chemise is thin, loose material, obscuring little, but you leave it on while you sit beside the wolf, toeing your heeled slippers off and nudging them under the bed and out of the way. Hands folded, you wait, heart beating like a drum. You feel so strange, almost outside your own body, watching him unlace his boots and tug them off impatiently.

He stands to strip off his trousers, and you quickly avert your gaze, looking down at your hands rather than see him in his fully undressed state. You have a rough idea of what you’d find, you’ve been in the public baths more than a few times, and even doing your best to be respectful, it’s hard not to see something. But seeing something in a setting where everyone is minding their own business is a lot different than seeing something up close, especially when you might be expected to do more than just look.

“We don’t have to do this, love,” he says, kneeling in front of you, clasping his hands around yours. Your eyes fly back up, landing on his face. His chuckle makes your cheeks burn. “If you’re nervous—”

“No,” you say quickly. “I want to. I’m just— I hate not knowing what I’m supposed to do.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that darling. It’s your first time, I should think the responsibility rests on my shoulders. All you have to do is tell me when you like something and when you don’t.” He leans forward, forcing your thighs apart to accommodate the bulk of him, and kisses you, all sweetness. “And if you want to stop, we stop. Anything more than that can wait at least until the second or third time.”

It sounds so simple, put like that.

“Besides,” he adds, giving you a wicked grin as his hands move to your hips, the movement rucking your chemise up further on your thighs. “You’ve always been a quick study.”

Well, he’s right about that. His lips find your throat again, pressing languid kisses down your chest until he reaches the edge of your chemise. His eyes flick upwards, seeking permission before he goes further. You untie the simple knot with one hand, the other petting through his soft curls.

He noses aside the thin fabric to find your nipple, latching on with a contented hum. The act sends tremors down into your core, intensifying as his tongue flicks across. You pull in a shuddering breath, and your exhale becomes a whimper when his teeth nip at you, his other hand coming up to grope at your other breast, his touch warm and appreciative before his grip slides down to your hips and he tugs you to the edge of the mattress.

He pulls away from your breast and kisses you properly again. “Do you want more?” he asks. “Can I taste your pretty cunt, darling?”

The desire in his words sends a shiver down your spine. You nod, and he sits back on his heels and kisses all the way up your thigh, although he pauses and pulls back to your other knee, kissing his way up again, this time sinking his teeth into your inner thigh, not hard enough to really hurt, just enough to make you jolt, your pearl begging for any kind of friction. When he passes over your cunt to mouth at your other thigh, you whine, shifting even closer to the edge of the bed. You can feel your cunt dripping, the air strangely cool on your wet skin.

A pair of mischievous eyes glance up at you. He’s doing this on purpose. He started all of this, and now he has the gall to tease you. Glaring in response, you grip him by the hair and pull him in, determined to put his clever mouth to better use than smirking and biting you when you need him elsewhere.

To his credit, he makes no complaint and does what he’s directed, slipping his tongue between your folds, lapping up the slick arousal. His big hands push your thighs up so he can get a better angle, and he kisses your cunt with as much passion as he did your lips, if not more.

The feeling is electric. His mouth scorches, sets you alight in ways you’d never imagined, the occasional scrape of his too sharp teeth against you thrilling. It’s too good, has you fighting his grip even as your fingers are still tightly wound into his hair, holding him close. It’s too much, but if he stopped it would be so much worse.

If he minds your writhing, he doesn’t show it. You can’t help the sounds he pulls from you, but he’s louder, as though this is more for himself than for you. He groans when your hips buck against his mouth, pants when he lifts himself away enough to breathe, his amber eyes gleaming, fixed on your face, except the few times they flutter closed, just for a moment, savouring your taste.

His nose nudges your pearl as his tongue presses inside you. You grip him so tightly to your core, your hips shaking so hard that you’re surprised you don’t break his nose. The hot, molten cataclysm that’s been pooling somewhere behind your belly button overtakes you, sweeping you away, limbs seized, unable to out-swim the current. You can’t see past the stars in your eyes even after your legs relax and you force your hand to unclasp his hair, finger by finger, so you can lay back on the mattress, breathing hard.

He crawls up onto the bed and pulls you toward the centre, a self-satisfied grin on his face. His cock presses into your thigh, insistent for attention, the tip peeking out and leaking against your thigh. He ruts against you when he kisses you again, his close-cropped beard soaked with your arousal. You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangy and bitter-sweet.

You lay twined together, forehead pressed against his as you both catch your breath. One hand gently brushes up and down your spine, the other pulling your leg up over his hip. “How was that?” he asked.

There may not be words for what you feel. Maybe there are, but they’re beyond you right now, washed away with all the resistance in your body. You settle on nice, which makes him laugh.

“Only nice, hm? I suppose I’ll have to work harder.”

“Better than nice,” you assure him. “I— I liked it a lot.” It’s still insufficient, so you kiss him again, hoping he won’t ask any more questions.

He does, after a long moment. “Are you ready for more?”

“There’s more?” you ask. “Or— for you? Do you want me to—”

“No, there’s no need for you to do a thing, love. The next part is for both of us.” He rolls onto his back, taking you with him effortlessly. He reaches past you with one hand while he kisses you sweetly, tongue pushing into your mouth at the same moment you feel his cock slot against your entrance. He pushes in gently, halting when he meets resistance, fucking shallowly into you until you relax enough to let him bury himself deeper into your body.

You tuck your face down against his chest, focusing on the feeling of his cock stretching your cunt, so deep inside you that his presses against your womb. He tries to keep himself still, but his hips buck slightly, tearing a groan from your chest. There’s no stopping the way your cunt squeezes down on him in response, nor the way your hips grind against him. He makes a choked sound, breathing out shakily when you push yourself up to look at him.

The angle change nearly has you collapsing back down, but he takes pity on you and flips you both so he can take the lead. “Hello, pretty thing,” he says, giving you another kiss and a firm grind into you before he starts moving his hips, slowly working himself in and out of your cunt, lips settling against your ear so he could tell you how well you’re taking him, how good you feel around his cock.

Any ability to respond is quickly fucked out of you, your breath punched out with every deep thrust, your world shrinking down to a handful of sensations: his lips on your ear, the weight of his body and the delicious drag of his cock against your inner walls.

He works his hand between you to rub at your pearl, the heel of his hand pressing down on your lower belly. The thought that he can feel himself inside you with your hand is one of the last fully formed ones that cross your mind, because he growls and picks up the pace, unrelenting until you’re shaking and babbling and clinging so tightly to him that you’re certain you’ll leave permanent marks.

He drags you up another precipice and throws you over, his forehead pressed to yours, watching your face as you shake and cry out. He ruts into you, and you can feel him fill your cunt, his cock twitching, rooted firmly inside you. He doesn’t pull away, just throws himself onto his back, holding you tight to his chest.

His heart beats like a drum under your ear, slowing gradually as he catches his breath. His cock slips free, and you stiffen slightly as his spend leaks from your swollen cunt, spilling onto his belly. He pops his head up as soon as you tense, and huffs out a laugh, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Sex can be a bit messy. Come on, love. Let’s get cleaned up.”

Your legs wobble when you try to stand, but he happily slides a supportive arm around your waist, leading you into the adjoining tap room. Once you’re both cleaned up, he coaxes you out of your sweat-soaked chemise and wraps you in one of his shirts and you both sit back down in front of the fire.

You pick up your abandoned wine glass, holding it with both hands as you eye the wolf. He looks content, satiated, like he’s had his fill of you. There’s a little tremor of unease that settles in your belly. Now that the chase is over, will he still want you? Do you still want him to want you? At the beginning of the evening you had been determined to kill him, and now…

He looks back at you through half-closed eyes, and unfurls his arm. “You’re too far away,” he tells you, voice a warm purr. “And you’re thinking too much.”

It’s still unfair, how easily he reads you. An open book, pages left open for him to flip through at his leisure. Despite your trepidation, you walk forward on your knees and sit against him, knees tucked under his arm. His fingertips trail up your thigh, over your knee, down your calf, and back, over and over, as he waits for you to speak.

“What happens now?” you ask at last. “Do we go our separate ways?”

Hurt flashes across his face before he can hide it behind a neutral mask. “If that’s what you want.” His fingers continue retreading their path while silence builds between the two of you. At last, he pulls in a fortifying breath. “Is that what you want?”

There’s raw desire in his eyes, not tempered in the least by your coupling. He offers you everything so easily that it feels like it must be a trick, but he wouldn’t work so hard to hide his feelings if he didn’t care for you, if this were a trap. If you stay, it has to be your choice, not made because of his own want for you to remain by his side.

The anger that kept you warm in all your years out in the cold is gone. Killing him won’t bring your family back from the grave, it would just place another soul in one. The desire for revenge truly burned out a long while ago, and you couldn’t admit that only embers remained. It was why you were so desperate to end it tonight, to close the chapter and look forward to something new.

It’s so like your wolf to ruin your plans. This time, you’re not sure you mind.

“I’d like to stay,” you say at last.

He’s on you so fast that you drop your wine glass, spilling red over the furs. It’s hard to stop laughing enough to kiss him back, trying to point out the mess to him. He growls something about not giving a damn as he gives up trying to kiss you through your smile, and presses his lips to your pulse instead.

In the end, with all the history between the two of you, what’s one more mess?

It's been almost five years since I started writing this short story, and I had fully expected not to finish it. I was caught up in the story in the peripherals, the potential history between Cat and Valter. This scene no longer fits in the overall narrative, even if there are still threads of it that remain unchanged, so I feel like it's safe to share. I'm working on the third draft of The Night of the Wolf, sorting out the mess of my second draft (so many changes it might as well be a second first draft) and I think there's a very real possibility that I can actually finish it, and that's in no small way thanks to all of you. I have been writing for a long time, but it's only been in the past year that I've shared my work with anyone, and it's been a really lovely experience. Thank you for reading my silly fanfictions, thank you for reading this, and I hope to share more bits of original work going forward, if there's any interest. (But don't worry, I'm still gonna finish the fanfictions. I show no signs of stopping yet)

C. T. Cutter

(Also, special thanks to my best human person @dragonnarrative-writes for making me finish this and being so so kind to me about my work and encouraging me always. I am bad at accepting compliments but I appreciate them all the same)

Image Credits: 1 - 2 ~ Dividers by @/cafekitsune

#Cave Writing #original works #enemies to lovers but in a you can't hate someone without also loving them way #in a “I keep my nemesis' picture in a locket around my neck” way #Night of the Wolf #OC: Cat #OC: Valter #This is the sort of work that can happen when you dare to ask the question “What if Rahul Kohli was a hot werewolf?”#This is pretty much my one year writing and posting fanfiction-aversary! How time flies #I've written more this year than the previous 4 combined and it's been so much fun #And I've learned a lot #especially about putting myself out there #Writing other works definitely stretches a different muscle but fanfiction helps with dialogue and characters and writing sex lmao #I have sooooo many stories that stop right before a sex scene because I used to be so bad at writing it #But now? I'm all over it #Anyway these tags are not helpful to anyone I am just dithering to delay posting at this point #It's written in second POV because I was in the monster romance circles before the COD circles and it's popular there too #but I was never brave enough to post anything anyway lmao #Thanks for helping me be brave!#monster romance #but only kind of because when werewolves aren't actively shifted they're just some guy #He spends a lot more time being wolfy in the actual novel

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stuck-in-the-ghost-zone · 2 years ago

Note

what kind of cratures do you think the trigun gang would be?

CREATURES IN GENERAL OR SEA CREATURES. BECAUSE MY FRIEND MONTY N I WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT TRIGUN FURSONAS THE OTHER DAY. but i am the sea creature guy at heart so im gonns give u those i hope that is ok 😌 there are many benefits to being a marine biologist.

Vash: he is... so very shark coded to me. everyone looks at him and sees a dangerous killing machine. frequently covered in scars. do u see the connection here. he is specifically a thresher shark to me because of the whole sharpshooter thing and also the sad sad puppydog eyes 💙

Wolfwood: i am torn between two different types of eels for him. giant morays are more aesthetically pleasing but personally i have to go with a wolf eel both for the name and because ive worked with these guys before and theyre sooooo cool so im biased

Meryl: not technically a sea creature because she is just so bird coded to me. White-Tailed Tropicbird

Milly: is it cheating to have two cephalopods on this list. because i think i really want to say giant pacific octopus for milly. either that or a whale shark 💙 yes those are two completely different animals no i will not be taking criticism at this time

bonus Knives because i love him and i feel the most strongly about this one:

BOBTAIL SQUID.

... and also a bristle worm . for what i hope are obvious reasons

#NORMALLY THOUGH meryl is an egyptian plover #shes sooooo so very much an egyptian plover. hold on i made a post about that the other day ill reblog it again for u :] hehe #i worked at an aquarium last year and every time we would pull a bristleworm out of one of our tanks id be like ohhh my god its knives.....#i love every opportunity to push my sea creature knives agenda. hes so sea creature to me. hes so marine biologist to me.#OH MY GOD ALSO LIVIO. LIVIO IS A GOLIATH GROUPER TO ME . <3 #side note also . have you ever seen that picture of a hermit crab using a human skull as a shell #(<< the image is fake its photoshopped BUT)#thats legato. to me. except with a blueleg hermit crab. he is a blue leg hermit crab with a human skull for a shell #which is bullshit because i dont think legato deserves something that cool but alas it is unfortunately perfect for him #(<< this is /j i think legato is a cool and interesting character #i just think he has a punchable face and like 2 pretend i hate his guts cause its funny)#HI !!!! THANK U FOR GIVI G ME AN EXCUSE TO TALK ABT SEA CREATURES ILY <3333 #asks #madnessmadness #sorry if u meant like... actual land creatures. unfortunately i am the fish guy forever <3 #YES I REALIZE VASH AND KNIVES ARE TWO TOTALLY DIFFERENT CREATURES AND THAT MAKES NO SENSE BC THEYRE TWINS #BUT LIKE. I FEEL SO STRONGLY ABOUT BOTH OF THOSE THINGS #i could be persuaded to make knives a shark if needed bc there are so many cool shark species i could assign to him #but like. hes just soooo bobtail squid coded to me ive been saying that since i first saw his fuckin. snuggie in tristamp

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itsthecline · 3 months ago

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INTRODUCING… LONG TERM GF!READER

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ long term gf!reader who had been around forever , longer than rose , longer than wheezie even. she grew up next to the camerons , and so she always knew them— it helped that their parents were friends. she did girls days with her mom , sarah , and mrs. cameron once a month every month. after mrs. cameron passed away , they continued to do it , inviting wheezie to join them. mrs. cameron loved her , and always poked fun at her son for having a crush on her.

long term gf!reader who asked rafe out. it was fifth grade at lunch. she walked up to him and his friends at the table , standing over all of them. “do you want to be my boyfriend , rafe?” she didn’t realize that mrs. cameron saying ‘just ask him , honey’ implied not doing it at school lunch in front of everyone. obviously , a young rafe was a little embarrassed , cheeks and ears turning red , but he nodded and you skipped away happily. who knew they’d actually last?

long term gf!reader who was there for rafe for everything no matter what. she knew from a very young age that he was her soulmate , and so she also knew she had to stick it through. to be fair , it was easy when rafe lied about certain things so nothing seemed as bad. even if he hadn’t , he was sure she would go along with it anyway , but he felt better keeping her away from the dirty details as much as possible.

long term gf!reader who wanted babies and wanted them soon. after they got engaged probably when they were in barbados she kept bringing it up. “when are we going to have babies?” “how long do i have to wait for you to give me what i want?” “can we try for a baby now?” it was incessant , and rafe didn’t really mind. he wanted kids with you someday too , but he always said no. “no , honey. not yet,” he’d coo. when they did decide to start trying , she got pregnant right away. she dyed her hair back to her natural hair color , knowing it would be too much maintenance to keep bleaching it , and she went full mommy mode.

long term gf!reader who’s best friend was louisa cameron. genuinely , the youngest cameron stole her heart the minute she was introduced. she always babysat her when needed , had play dates with her growing up. she always loved babies , so wheezie was perfect. as they both grew up , she was the one to invite wheezie on the girls days. they’d have their own sleepovers despite rafe being annoyed she was sleeping in wheezie’s room down the hall rather his.

a/n okay , so this is going to be a regular series with some smau in there as well , so the fc is nicola bc she’s hot but ofc picture whoever you please for the parts that aren’t smau! this is going to be a lot of posts of them through their relationships ( and maybe some fics about the actual obx plotline thrown in every once in awhile ) but i want you guys sending ideas in as well because we all see rafe in a different light and i want to encapsulate all of that in this universe’s rafe:)

also: i was doomscrolling the other day and saw a series about high school girlfriend!reader and it inspired me to start this as well… as soon as i find that account u bet ur ass i’m sending y’all over there<3 and if y’all know who it is plssssss pls pls lmk

taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

#introducing…#long term gf!reader #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe x you #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe obx

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gyaruhana · 2 months ago

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Hi 🫣

A request for Choi Su-Bong and Cho Sang-Woo <3

They're both in the same game. (Sangwoo didn't die in s1 and came back to earn more for his debts) They both have eyes for reader, once they realise this, they both pair up and do whatever they can to get reader on their side. Flirting, helping them in the games etc...Eventually reader is won over by them.

You can make it smutty, if you like. I don't really know how to request smut, so I hope that this is enough for you to work with! Tysm 💞💞

Choi Su-Bong/Thanos + Cho Sangwoo - Three is, in fact, NOT a crowd

Synopsis: Cho Sangwoo and Thanos had nothing in common. Well, they didn't until you came around and stole their hearts.

A/N: I may have made this too smutty but i saw the chance for double penetration and knew nobody else would ever be writing dp with Thanos and Sangwoo so-

Warnings: smutty content, fingering, anal fingering, eating out, double penetration, use of whore,

Sangwoo and Thanos did not have anything in common. Sangwoo was a quiet, reserved man who has suffered plenty of loss while Thanos was loud and… very, very high. No one would ever expect them to be spending time together since they were oh so different. Not to mention the only interaction they had was a stare down when Thanos casually pushed somebody during Red Light, Green Light resulting in the death of three people.

However, when you came into the picture you caught both of their attentions immediately. They were drawn to you like moths to a flame.

It started off small.

Thanos would be close to you most of the time while Sangwoo would keep a watchful eye on you and protect you from a distance. Occasionally, when Thanos wasn’t around to keep you company, Sangwoo would swoop in instead and talk with you. It only became apparent to both of them that they shared the same romantic feelings for you when they both handed you their food at the same time while also telling you; “Take my food, you need it more than me,” in sync.

From there, it started. An agreement was made between the two to protect you at all costs while also trying to steal your heart that they could keep for the two of them. At least one of them was near you all the time since then and they refused to keep you out of their sight.

As of now, the third game had finished and you were walking back into the main room. Thanos and Sangwoo were close behind you, maybe even a little too close.

“Are you okay? No injuries?” Sangwoo asks as he leans down slightly to talk in your ear. “Of course she’s fine. After all, the great Thanos was here to protect our girl,” Thanos spoke as he threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to his side. Sangwoo shook his head at Thanos’s words before matching his pace with yours so he could be close to you too.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” you speak with a smile as you look over at Sangwoo. “Good,” he says with a nod. He probably would’ve gone crazy if you had gotten hurt somehow. Both of them would honestly. You were too important - too precious to get hurt.

You all took a seat somewhere in the back corner of the place, away from the rest of the players so you could relax for a while and wind down from the last game which was actually rather stressful. Per usual, Sangwoo and Thanos were all over you. They were ridiculously close to you, making flirty comments, touching you in places that they know made you nervous. It was all planned.

This went on long after the food was given and enjoyed. It’s like they physically could not have their hands off of you or they would lose it. Not that you were complaining. You didn't mind having two guys who you were definitely crushing on touching you.

You put your food down next to you before standing up making both of them look up at you immediately as their hands that had previously been on you fell to their side. It was clear neither of them were very happy that they weren't touching you now.

“I'm just going to the bathroom before lights out, I'll be back,” you speak before walking off. Not once did their eyes leave you as you walked away until you were out of sight.

“I think we should do it tonight,” Thanos suddenly speaks up as he looks over at Sangwoo with a confident smirk. Sangwoo turns his head to look at him with an eyebrow slightly raised. “Do what?” He asks although he already had an idea of what Thanos meant.

“You know what I mean, man. We can finally strike. C'mon, she's clearly into us,” Thanos spoke with a grin as he scooched closer to Sangwoo. He was confident that you had feelings for them now after all they had done for you.

“You sure? Wouldn't want you to scare her off,” Sangwoo replied as he looked away towards the door you last disappeared through. Of course, he was eager to finally make you his but he didn't make it obvious. At least, he thought he didn't.

“Me? Scare her off? You're the one with the dark and brooding aura. What are you? Batman?” Thanos joked as he kept his eyes on Sangwoo. All he got in response to that was a sharp glare before Sangwoo looked away. There was a brief silence as if he was thinking before he sighed and shook his head.

“Fine, we'll have her tonight. After lights out,” Sangwoo spoke as he looked at the timer on the wall. Thanos turned his head to also look and let out a frustrated groan upon seeing the time.

“There's still 20 minutes left, man. I can't wait that long,” he says with annoyance. He had been patient for the past few days and he couldn't wait any longer to have you in his arms. Sangwoo looked at Thanos with an unimpressed look, clearly not amused by Thanos's impatience.

“Good things come to those who wait,” he says with a barely noticeable smirk. Thanos let's out another sigh before running a hand through his hair. Fine, he could wait. Just a little bit longer. Then, he'd finally have you.

As the sound of a door opening reached their ears, they unanimously turned their heads toward it so they could see you again. You noticed them staring and waved at them as you started to walk in their direction. Thanos gave a rather excited wave back and gestured for you to come over.

When you sat down between them again, you could feel something was different. Was it the way they kept subtly glancing at each other? The way their hands instantly made its home on your body? Who knows. But there was certainly something different.

“Hey, y'know I've been thinking about something,” Thanos suddenly spoke as he put his arm around your shoulder and looked over at you. “I feel like we haven't spent enough.. time together. You feel me?” He continues as he keeps his eyes on you. You didn't quite understand what he meant by that because you had spent the last few days together constantly.

“Mm, I think you're right,” Sangwoo suddenly speaks up and you turn your head to look at him. Okay, they were up to something- you could tell that much. The question was; what were they up to? Before you can ask, Sangwoo's hand finds its place on your thigh.

“Maybe we should spend more time together. Do you agree, Thanos?” Sangwoo spoke again as he looked at Thanos. The grin on his face paired with the eager nod when Sangwoo spoke had your heart running in circles. You weren't entirely sure if they meant literal quality time or ‘quality time’ in the sexual sense but the idea of them wanting to fuck you was enough to make you nervous.

“C'mon, baby. Don't be shy,” Thanos speaks as he stands up and goes right in front of you. Sangwoo's hands move to your shoulders as he shifts behind you. Your face flushed at the premise of what they were suggesting. If it wasn't obvious before, it was now.

“Yeah, don't be shy,” Sangwoo whispered into your ear. Right on cue, the lights go off and the three of you are consumed in darkness. Usually, the darkness scared you because of the fear something else was lingering. This time, you were much less afraid because you knew what was in the darkness. Them.

“We'll make you feel good. You can trust us,” you hear Thanos's voice ring out as he crouches down in front of you. His hand slowly places itself just below your neck before trailing down to the hem of your shirt. Meanwhile, Sangwoo didn't waste any time and immediately started leaving kisses on your neck.

You can feel your shirt slowly lift up before being pulled off of you. “Fuck, you're even prettier underneath,” Thanos says quietly before he leans forward and starts to leave kisses along your chest. The contrast of Sangwoo's soft sucking on you neck with Thanos's harsh bites across your chest was overwhelming. Even though their styles were different, it was clear they both wanted to devour you.

Sangwoo's hand slowly slides down to the waistband of your pants before he pushes his hand into them. You tense up slightly when you feel his hand push your underwear to the side. “Relax.. no need to be so tense,” Sangwoo speaks quietly into your ear. He teases your entrance causing a moan to escape you but Thanos quickly covers it with a harsh kiss.

“You gotta be quiet, babe,” he says in between the kiss. His hand goes over to your neck and squeezes it slightly. While you were distracted by Thanos's rough kissing, Sangwoo slid a finger into your hole and slowly started to thrust it in and out. The feeling made you moan into Thanos's mouth and, in response, he shoved his tongue into your mouth to make you keep quiet.

Sangwoo continued to thrust his finger in and out as he whispered words into your ear. “You're so wet already. You're just a whore for us, aren't you?” He whispers before pushing a second finger inside. He knew exactly what he was doing when his thumb started to rub your clit. All his movements were nothing short of rough.

“Fuck, when's it my turn? It's not fair if you're the only one who gets to touch her,” Thanos spoke with slight annoyance. He didn't appreciate having to wait. “You can have her when she cums on my fingers,” Sangwoo says as he begins to thrust his fingers faster. While part of him wanted to take his time with you, he wasn't opposed to skipping right ahead and ruining you.

“After you cum, you're gonna sit on my face and I'm gonna taste it, yeah?” Thanos speaks into your ear with a smirk on his face. His dirty words were enough to bring you to the edge as you finally released on Sangwoo's finger with a moan. Sangwoo's fingers continued to thrust into your hole for a few moments before he pulled out.

“Christ, you're so fucking dirty. Releasing all your cum on my fingers like a whore,” Sangwoo spoke as he brought his fingers to your mouth. He shoved them in and made you lick him clean before pulling them out. “Your turn,” he said as he looked at Thanos.

Thanos practically jumped on you the moment he was told he could. He pulled you up before sitting down where you were originally and then pulling you down on his lap. “You're gonna ride my face, yeah? Let me taste you?” Thanos says as he looks at you with a small smirk. When you nod your head, he immediately grinned in a way that made you feel you were nothing more than prey for two predators.

He quickly stood you up to tug your pants off before laying back on one of the beds and pulling you on top of him. He grabbed your hips and forced you to hover over his face. “Fuck, look at your cunt. You're so wet for us, huh?” Thanos says mockingly before pushing you down onto his face before you could respond. You let out a high pitch whine and Sangwoo is quick to kiss you to hide it. The feeling of Thanos's tongue dipping in between your wet folds was was amazing. He clearly knew what he was doing.

Sangwoo pulled away from the kiss before walking behind you. “Your ass looks a little lonely” Sangwoo speaks as he brings a hand down to your ass and gently teases your hole. You certainly didn't expect him to try anything with your other hole but you were poorly mistaken when he suddenly starts putting a finger there. His other hand goes to cover your mouth to keep you quiet as you grow accustomed to the feeling of a finger entering your ass while Thanos continues to eat you out like he'd been starved.

Sangwoo slowly started thrusting his finger in and out of your ass to loosen you up. “You know why I'm doing this?” Sangwoo suddenly asks. When you don't respond, he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. “Answer me,” he says firmly as he glares at you.

You shook your head no and he immediately let go of your chin roughly. “you'll see,” is all he says before thrusting a second finger in and once again covering your mouth. The feeling was enough to tip you over the edge for a second time as you released onto Thanos’s face.

“fuck..” Thanos mutters quietly before pulling you off his face. Sangwoo pulls his fingers out so as not to overstimulate you as Thanos sits up. “God, I need to fuck your tight pussy. You're gonna let me, yeah?” Thanos says as he moves you off of him and starts pulling his pants off.

“She's going to let both of us fuck her,” Sangwoo spoke up making Thanos pause for a moment. “..You're dirtier than I thought,” Thanos spoke with a smirk before taking off his boxers too. You weren't sure what they were planning but they clearly had something up their sleeve with the way they glanced at each other.

“come here,” Thanos said as he grabbed your hips and pulled you on top of him. He leans back before lining himself up with your entrance. “I'm gonna fuck my cock into you and you're going to take it, yeah? You're gonna be a good girl for me,” he says before slowly lowering you onto his cock. He lets out a groan as he feels you squeeze him - practically choking his dick.

He barely gives you any time to adjust to his length before starting to rock his hips up into yours. While you were distracted by the pleasure of having Thanos’s dick inside you, you didn't notice Sangwoo taking off his own pants right behind you. He pulled his boxers down just partially, enough to reveal his cock before he crawled behind you. His hands went to your shoulders and pushed you forward so you'd fall onto Thanos’s chest. Thanos didn't stop thrusting as he smirked. Oh, he couldn't wait to see you come undone.

Suddenly, you felt something press against your ass and you immediately knew what it was. You were going to say something but Thanos thrust into you deeper making you moan instead. Sangwoo’s tip caught against your hole and he took the opportunity to push in slowly. Thanos’s hand went to your throat as he squeezed it to keep you quiet. “shushh, you can take our cocks, baby,” he spoke as Sangwoo let out a grunt at how tight your ass was.

“fuck, loosen up. I can barely fit this tight cunt,” he spoke as he continued to push in. Running out of patience, he thrust the rest of his length in harshly making you cry out. Thanos was still thrusting up into you and it was so overwhelming to have two cocks inside of you.

Sangwoo pulled out slightly before thrusting back in and he began a slow pace to try to ease any pain. “God, she's so tight, huh?” Thanos mumbled as he kept slamming his hips into yours. “It's perfect. She was fucking made for our cocks,” Sangwoo responded as he began to pick up the pace. Thanos laughed at Sangwoo’s words, finding them amusing.

“she's such a fucking whore. Our whore,” He spoke as he let out a grunt. “fuck, I'm gonna fill you with my cum, baby. Take it,” Thanos spoke as his thrusts became sloppy. “hold fucking on. If you cum, she will too. I'm not close yet,” Sangwoo said with annoyance as he started fucking into your tight ass faster.

Thanos let out a groan and tried to slow down his pace to prolong the release. As much as he wanted to cum right now, he knew it's feel a million times better for you if he just waited. “I'm almost there,” Sangwoo says before he starts leaving kisses on your neck- biting and sucking at it. “fuck okay. You ready baby? Ready for our cum?” Thanos spoke as he began thrusting quicker again. All the confirmation they needed was the nod you gave while you cried out from the pleasure.

With one final hard thrust, Thanos and Sangwoo release their cum as deep as they could inside of you. You creamed on their cocks as you went limp on Thanos. He laughed at you before patting your hair gently. “what a good whore. Taking our cum like that,” Thanos spoke as Sangwoo slowly pulled out. “So good for us,” Sangwoo reaffirmed before sitting up next to you. He rubbed your back soothingly to help you come down from your high as Thanos slowly pulled out of you.

“I think we should do that again soon,”

#squid game smut #squid game #squid game 2 #squid game season 2 #cho sangwoo #cho sangwoo x reader #thanos squid game #thanos x reader #squid game x reader

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witchywithwhiskey · 3 months ago

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another man’s marks

pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader

summary: you're texting with your situationship when he asks for a nude photo—but you're covered in marks left by another man. wanting to see what he'll do, you send a photo of yourself, and you're rewarded with a very torturous and enjoyable reaction.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), masturbation (m), come play, bdsm elements, a lot of biting and marking, orgasm delay, choking, some breath play, some pain play, some dacryphilia, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, some aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior

word count: 7.3k

a/n: so this post came across my dash and i had the thought 'ok but what if you sent a situationship a picture covered in another man's marks?' and i started thinking about how toxic situationship bucky might react and then i wrote the first draft of this fic very quickly 🤭 i actually really love toxic bucky but i'm a little nervous to share this because i just want you all to love him as much as i do 🥺 (and, actually, he's not as toxic as i originally intended but y'know what, that's ok i think). i hope y'all enjoy ♡

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

Let me see your tits, baby.

The text message drew a huff of noise from you, one that was half laugh, half scoff. You were laying in bed, already wearing your pajamas—an oversized tee and panties—and catching up with your situationship, Bucky Barnes, before you went to sleep.

His request wasn’t entirely out of the blue. After asking how your day was, Bucky had started complaining about his day, and you’d known the man long enough to know those kinds of conversations often led to him asking you to send a photo of yourself—though he usually wanted a picture of what panties you were wearing.

Most of the time, you didn’t hesitate to take a picture to send to him. But that time, you paused.

You liked Bucky. You liked talking to him and hearing about his day, and when you were together, you had fun. Plus, you liked sending photos of yourself to him, and you enjoyed the fact that he wanted to see your body when he wasn’t with you. It stroked your ego when he asked for a photo, and he always responded with filthy praise that turned you on.

But that particular night, you had a problem preventing you from simply taking a photo. And, really, the problem was partly to blame on Bucky.

From the beginning, he’d said he didn’t do relationships, he’d told you he wasn’t ready to commit to just one person. He’d been clear and up front about what he wanted, and it was nothing more than a situationship, which was fine with you. You liked him, but you weren’t going to beg for more.

But you’d also decided that if he wasn’t going to commit to you, then you certainly weren’t going to clear out your roster just for him. You weren’t going to be one of those girls sitting at home pining away for some guy. Not even Bucky Barnes.

Which, in a long, winding way, led to your current predicament.

After all, there was a difference between Bucky being vaguely aware you were still hooking up with other guys—since you occasionally referenced your roster—and him seeing the evidence of it. And you had to wonder how he’d react if you took a picture of your tits in the state they were that evening…

It had only been about a day since your last hookup, and your mind wandered to the night before. You’d met up with one of the other guys on your roster, John Walker, and had a decently enjoyable dick appointment. You hadn’t expected Bucky or any of the other men on your roster to ask for pics, so you’d let John do what he wanted to your body.

If there were two things you knew about John Walker, it was that he and Bucky hated each other, and he loved your tits. John loved playing with them, he loved sucking on them, and he loved leaving hickeys all over them. Which he’d done the night before—and then proceeded to give you a not very satisfying orgasm.

Sure, it’d done the trick in the moment, but not even 24 hours later, you were already restless again, your body needing a proper release, which you knew Bucky could give you. But you weren’t planning to see Bucky for at least a couple days, not until the evidence of your hookup with John had faded.

Lifting your shirt, you looked at John’s handiwork. Your tits were dotted all over with at least a dozen tiny little love bites, and your body warmed as you remembered the knife-edged pleasure that came along with each little mark. They were so recent, the bruises were still reddish, not having yet fully faded to a dark purple.

As you looked at them, you had a devious thought—what would Bucky do if he saw John’s marks on your body? Would he blow you off, stop talking to you, maybe even ghost you? Or would he need to see you so badly that he’d come over to your apartment? Would he fuck you and give you the release you needed?

Thinking through your options, you knew it would be the kind, respectful thing to send Bucky an older photo, one of your tits when they were entirely unblemished. You had plenty of photos like that on your phone—and Bucky probably wouldn’t even notice if you sent him the same photo twice.

Or… You could send Bucky a photo of your tits covered in another man’s hickeys. You could, if he asked, tell him exactly who had given you all those hickeys. And then, you could see what Bucky would do about it.

A wicked smile crept across your face as you came to a decision.

Lifting your shirt again, you arched your body toward the light in your room, making sure the marks were clearly visible on your skin, then you snapped a photo of your tits. Before you could talk yourself out of the idea that was probably toxic and definitely a little mean, you sent the photo to Bucky.

His reply was almost instantaneous.

Who the fuck did that to you.

You bit back your mischievous giggle, even if you were alone in your room and there was no one to hear the evil way you wanted to cackle at Bucky’s response. Excited thrills raced through your veins, warmth blooming between your thighs at the anger laced in his text message.

You knew you’d be pushing him further toward anger by answering his question—you knew how much Bucky and John hated each other—but he’d asked. And besides, you were hoping he’d take out all that anger on your body in the most delicious of ways. So you sent a simple response.

John Walker.

You waited for Bucky’s response.

And waited.

But as the minutes ticked by and Bucky didn’t text back, your heart sank more and more, and the delighted smile on your face flattened into a frown. You began to think Bucky might actually be ghosting you.

For only a moment, you let yourself feel disappointed at the way your phone didn’t light up with another text from your situationship, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be sad over a man like Bucky Barnes. Even if he fucked you way better than John Walker or any of the other guys on your roster. Even if you liked him more than any of the other guys you’d been with.

Hauling yourself up from your bed, you went through your nighttime routine, brushing your teeth and washing your face while listening to music. It wasn’t until you were about to slip into bed and go to sleep that your phone buzzed with a new text message.

Your heart lept into your throat when you saw it was Bucky and you scrambled to read his response, eager to know what had taken him so long. Your breath caught in your throat and excitement buzzed wildly through your veins when you saw what he’d written.

I’m outside. Open your door.

A shiver of anticipation zipped down your spine as you bounded out of bed, an ecstatic grin spreading across your face at the realization that you’d got what you wanted—Bucky was at your apartment. And he was going to do something about the photo you’d sent him.

It took all your self control not to run to your apartment door and fling it open excitedly to greet Bucky. Instead, you forced yourself to take your sweet time padding to the door, your movements deliberately lazy as you unlocked it and swung it open.

Bucky Barnes loomed on the other side, his head hanging between stiff arms, his hands braced on either edge of the frame like he was holding himself back from kicking down your door. His broad shoulders were bunched up, his short, brown hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it. His chest was heaving as he breathed harshly.

When he lifted his head, the stubborn possessiveness in his darkened blue eyes slashed right through to your heart. He’d never looked at you that way before, and you had the terrible, fleeting thought that you could get used to being the only girl Bucky looked at so possessively.

For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. Then, Bucky stalked forward, crowding you into your apartment and gathering you up in his strong arms while he kicked the door shut behind him. It closed with a rough slam that had your pulse skittering in your veins, your heart already pounding in your chest as Bucky crushed you in his arms.

His gaze held yours and there was something about the emotions swirling his eyes, a mixture of uncompromising possessiveness and lustful determination, that felt dangerous. Not to your body, but to your heart.

“You got a lotta nerve sending me a picture with another man’s marks on you,” Bucky growled as he walked you backward toward your bedroom, his hands groping your hips and ass like every inch of your body belonged to him. “You weren’t trying to make me jealous, were you, baby?”

His words were a furious hiss that he punctuated by ducking down and snapping his teeth at your plump lower lip, biting you roughly enough to wring a gasp from your lungs. Between your thighs, you could feel your pulse pumping needily, your body aching for so much more of Bucky’s rough treatment even as you forced yourself not to cower and submit like you wanted.

Pushing against Bucky’s shoulders until he leaned back and you could catch his eye, you quirked an eyebrow at him in a dry expression of amusement.

“You’re a big boy, Bucky,” you said, before pausing to run your tongue along your lower lip, feeling the tender spot he’d bitten. Dark satisfaction swirled in your chest, but you made yourself shrug indifferently. “And I’m not your girlfriend—so if you’re jealous, that’s your problem, not mine.”

“You let him mark you,” Bucky snarled, an accusation in his tone as he stared deep into your eyes.

For a moment—just a brief moment—you saw a hurt look in Bucky’s gaze, and it pricked at something deep in your heart. Something you refused to look at or examine, especially not with Bucky standing right in front of you. You didn’t want to think about the fact that Bucky might’ve been hurt by your actions, or that you cared about his feelings enough to want to apologize.

But you supposed you could take pity on him. You’d tormented him enough for one night.

“Yeah,” you said, cocking your head to the side, a sly smirk curving your lips. “And what are you gonna do about it, daddy?” You practically purred the final word, knowing how Bucky would react to it.

Just like that, the hurt vanished from Bucky’s expression and heat sparked in his icy blue eyes, a menacing smile pulling across his face.

“You wanna see what I’m gonna do about it?” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “Oh, baby, you’re not fucking ready for what I’m gonna do to your pretty little slutty body.”

Bucky crowded into you, pushing you backward until your legs hit your bed, and then he was shoving you down to the soft blankets. You crawled backward into the center of the bed while Bucky toed out of his shoes and took off his jacket, leaving him in only a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants.

Once he’d tossed his jacket somewhere in your room, he didn’t waste anymore time, prowling onto the bed and using his hands to push up the hem of your oversized tee. His head fell to your body, his teeth nipping harshly at your soft belly to make you squeal and squirm as he worked his way up. He delivered the same treatment to the curves of your brests and the delicate skin of your collarbone.

When his face finally hovered above yours, his breathing was harsh and his expression was filled with a determination so stubborn, you knew you were going to have a long night while Bucky showed you why you shouldn’t let another man mark your body.

“You’re not leaving this bed until you’ve got so many of my fucking marks on your body that you won’t even think about sending nudes to anyone else,” Bucky growled, tugging off your tee, pushing your legs open so he could settle between them, and descending on your tits.

He found the first of John’s marks and sank his teeth into the skin around it, sucking hard on the already aching bruise. The spot gave a little twinge of pain from Bucky’s rough treatment, but it only mixed deliciously with the pleasure he was dragging from your body, and your fingers threaded into his hair, clinging to him while he sucked on your skin.

Bucky worked the reddish-purple blemish relentlessly with his mouth and teeth until it was bright again, and so much larger than the mark John had left. Then, when he was done, Bucky moved on to the next hickey, scraping his teeth over the bruise and wringing a helpless cry from your lips before he sucked the curve of your tit into his mouth.

It went on like that for you didn’t know how long, Bucky working methodically down and across your chest, sucking and biting every bruise John had left behind on your body until each one was replaced with a new, bigger mark.

If you begged Bucky for more—or tried to push his furious mouth down toward your pussy, which was throbbing almost painfully with need—he’d simply narrow his eyes at you, giving you a look like you’d known exactly what you were getting yourself into when you’d sent that photo to him. Then he’d work his mouth even harder, even more roughly against your body, until you were tossing your head back into your pillows and moaning your pleasure.

By the time he was done, you were nothing more than a whimpering, pleading mess beneath him. Your eyes were filled with tears of desperation, and your inner thighs were sticky with the sheer amount of desire soaking your panties and coating your trembling flesh.

“Daddy, please,” you begged on a sob, shoving at Bucky’s shoulders to get his attention as he roughly kissed a spot in the valley between your tits, licking and sucking a new hickey into your skin.

At the sound of your ragged voice, Bucky lifted his head, but you could already tell by the determined glint in his eye and the stubborn set of his jaw that he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted just yet.

“Hush, baby,” he rasped in a dark, patronizing tone, lowering his mouth back to your chest and sucking on the hickey he’d just left. “Daddy’s just getting started marking your beautiful body with all the pretty little bruises I want.” His voice was a rough growl that reverberated beneath your skin.

Between your thighs, you could feel more of your desire trickling into your panties, which were already soaked all the way through and sticking to your clammy skin. A whine worked its way up your throat and spilled from your lips before you could stop it, your legs squirming around Bucky’s sides, trying to grind your cunt against his body but unable to get the angle right.

While you wriggled frustratedly, Bucky paid you no mind, shifting down your body as he picked a spot for his next mark. When his teeth sank into the soft flesh of your belly, you cried out, arching up off the bed and spreading your thighs wider to make room for Bucky’s broad shoulders.

Your fingers twisted in his soft brown hair, trying to push his head down further, until it was between your thighs, whimpering a soft sob of, “Bucky, please.”

But Bucky was having none of it. Despite your pleading and protests, he took his time, only peeling your panties away from your soppy wet cunt after taking his time leaving a trail of hickeys on your belly.

When he saw how wet you were, Bucky chuckled and murmured, “Such a messy little slut, baby.”

He’d said the words fondly and, if you weren’t mistaken, there was affection in the curve of his smile that had you feeling something you didn’t want to look at too closely. But your treacherous heart beat a little harder all the same.

Then his words sank into your lust-soaked mind and heat bloomed in your face at the gentle degradation. But what little shame you could conjure up only mixed with the burning of your desire as you stared down into Bucky’s darkened eyes, holding his gaze while he took off your panties and tossed them somewhere in your room.

He turned his focus back to the juncture of your thighs, shoving your legs wide open and smirking when you let out a helpless little moan at the feeling of the cool air brushing against your heated, dripping cunt. You were so worked up, you could feel your inner muscles clenching around nothing, needing to be filled with something.

“Your pussy’s winking at me, baby,” Bucky rumbled, laughter in his voice as he spread your pussy open with his fingers. You could feel it, your body winking at the man between your thighs like you were begging him to slide inside you—his fingers or his cock, you didn’t care. “She wants me bad, doesn’t she, baby?”

Bucky’s taunting words had you covering your face and letting out a low, tortured groan even as your hips twitched, your body yearning desperately to be filled, to be fucked. “Bucky,” you whined, drawing out his name pitifully as your hips bucked into his hands, seeking more of his touch.

But Bucky didn’t oblige your body’s request. His hands skimmed away from your pussy and along your thighs to hold you behind your knees, pushing your legs up to your chest so you were bared fully to his heated gaze. When you peeked out from between your fingers, you saw him staring hungrily down at your cunt, but at your movement, his gaze flicked up and caught yours.

“Do ya want me that bad, baby?” Bucky purred, ducking down to nuzzle his scruffy cheek against your inner thigh—so close to where you needed him, but still too far away. On instinct, your hips bucked upward, trying to press your pussy against Bucky’s face, but he held you down, grinning as he went on. “Ya want daddy’s fat cock to pound into your cute little cunt, huh, baby—want it hard and rough so you’ll be feeling me in your pretty pussy for days?”

“Oh god yes—yes, please, Bucky—daddy, please, I need your cock,” you babbled desperately, your hips squirming as you humped the empty air, seeking any part of Bucky that you could grind your aching cunt against. You didn’t care if it was his mouth or his cheek or his shoulder, you needed something.

Instead of giving you that, though, Bucky turned his face and sank his teeth deep into your thigh, hard enough that your pussy pulsed violently and you thought you were going to cum. But you didn’t.

Once the blinding sensation of pain and pleasure passed, you knew you wouldn’t manage to tip over the edge just from Bucky’s teasing. You weren’t going to cum until he finally paid attention to your pussy, and somehow you suspected Bucky knew that.

“Tell me how bad you want me,” he growled, sucking on your skin and beginning to leave a new mark on your inner thigh. His gaze was locked on yours as he stared up your body, past your heaving chest that was already littered with his marks, commanding you with the stubborn, possessive look in his eyes to do as he said.

“Want you so bad, daddy,” you cried, your whole body trembling like a leaf in a bitter autumn wind. Tears of frustration and need were pooling in your eyes again and you knew that if Bucky kept edging you for much longer, they were going to spill down your cheeks. “Want you more than anything—anything—please just fuck me!”

Bucky’s eyes glittered, the possessiveness is his gaze deepening and turning into something feral as he stared up your body. Finally, his mouth pulled away from your quivering thigh—after he placed one last affectionate kiss on the mark he’d left.

“Tell me you want me more than John fucking Walker,” he spit out, shifting his head to your other thigh and sinking his teeth into your soft flesh as he held you pinned to your bed with his thick biceps wrapped around your legs.

Your heart fluttered in your chest and your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected to get such a reaction out of Bucky when you’d sent him that picture of your tits with John’s marks all over them. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. Not when he was looking at you like you were his while he sucked yet another mark into your skin.

“I want you so much more than him,” you murmured. “I want your marks on me, I want your cock and your cum in me—I want you, Bucky.”

The words tumbled from your lips—the ones Bucky had demanded—and you were more than a little surprised by the vehemence in your voice, and how easy it was to admit you wanted Bucky more than John.

Sure, you’d known he was a better fuck than John, but things with Bucky felt right in a way they didn’t with any of the other men on your roster. Like the two of you fit together somehow.

And that scared you. It scared you enough that you rushed on, forcing yourself to raise an eyebrow at Bucky and muster a dry tone as you asked, “Is that what you wanted to hear?” You could detect the hitch of emotion beneath the taunting tone of your voice, but with any luck, Bucky wouldn’t.

Thankfully, he seemed not to notice, responding to your words by growling into the soft flesh of your thigh, his eyes narrowing into a glare. He gave the hickey he’d sucked into your skin one last pull, then pushed himself up.

Before you could beg again for him to fuck you, Bucky roughly grabbed your hips and flipped you over. His teeth sank so hard into the plush curve of your ass, you screeched into your pillows. There was more pain than pleasure that time, but Bucky knew the edge you liked to walk and he didn’t give you more than you could handle.

As it was, even more wetness flooded between your thighs and you writhed beneath Bucky’s big body, all the small stinging aches of the marks he’d left blending with the pulsing throb of need coursing through your veins. It was enough to break the damn of your tears and you sobbed into your pillows.

“Bucky, please, please, I need your dick,” you cried, straining your neck to look at him over your shoulder.

Bucky’s dark blue eyes were narrowed into slits and when he finally pulled his teeth from your ass, he continued glowering at you, looking grumpy and almost entirely unbothered by your pleas. You knew he wasn’t entirely unaffected, though, because his cock twitched against your thigh when he saw your tear-stained face.

“Tell me you won’t do it again and I might consider giving you some dick,” he growled, holding your gaze as he ducked down to lick and soothe the bite mark he’d left on your asscheek.

“I won’t send you another picture covered in John’s marks, I promise,” you rushed to say, arching your back and whining. Your body was moving on its own, trying to present your pussy to Bucky, but he only scraped his teeth over the mark he’d left in your skin.

“Not good enough,” Bucky grumbled, shifting to your other cheek and sinking his teeth into your ass, giving you another bite mark. When you hissed at the pain, Bucky relented, stroking his tongue over the spot as he sucked on your skin. “No one else gets to mark you but me.”

You had to look away to hide the way your eyes rolled at that demand. Bucky wouldn’t commit to you, but he wanted you to promise you wouldn’t let another man mark you. Fucking men. You glared into your pillows, not saying anything and hoping he’d drop it if you didn’t respond.

He didn’t.

“Say it, baby,” Bucky growled, leaning to the side and slapping your ass. He managed to hit the exact spot he’d bitten, which was tender from his teeth and mouth, making you cry out. “Say I’m the only one allowed to mark you.”

“Men who aren’t my boyfriend don’t get to make demands like that, James,” you snarled, turning to glare at him over your shoulder.

The two of you glared at each other for a long minute. You knew Bucky could be stubborn, but you could be much more stubborn when you wanted to be—and you fucking wanted to right then. If Bucky thought you were going to let him dictate what you could or couldn’t do with other men while he refused to commit, he had another thing coming.

Slowly, Bucky shifted up onto his hands, climbing up your body with the languid movements of a predator until his bigger form covered your smaller one.

Still, you glared at each other.

His hand pushed his sweatpants down until his cock bounced free, the stiff length slapping your ass lightly. His precum immediately started leaking into the valley between your cheeks, and your pussy pulsed in desire.

Still, you glared at each other.

“Say it, or you’re not getting my dick,” Bucky rumbled obstinately, pushing his stiff length between your thighs to drag against your dripping wet slit.

You sucked in a sharp breath and arched your back, giving him more of your pussy to rub against—but that didn’t mean you were going to submit to his ridiculous demand. And he wasn’t going to turn you into a liar.

“Say you’re my boyfriend, or you’re not getting my pussy, daddy,” you retorted, putting as much mocking sarcasm into the nickname as you could manage.

Bucky’s eyes flashed with so much annoyance, you couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that curled your lips, which only made his face contort in even more frustration.

His hand reached between your thighs, pressing his cock deep into your slippery folds until the head caught at your tight hole. But he didn’t push inside. Instead, he let the tip slide through your folds to grind against your clit.

Need and desire pounded an unceasing drumbeat beneath your skin, your hands curling into fists in your blankets as you bit back a desperate moan. But you didn’t let your face go slack with pleasure, you kept right on glaring at Bucky over your shoulder, even as he repeated the motion, teasing your tight little pussy with the head of his big cock.

Finally, something in Bucky snapped and he ducked down, capturing your mouth in a savage kiss, his lips and teeth attacking yours until both of you were breathless with need. You were practically vibrating with it beneath Bucky’s big body, and even his arms were trembling when you blinked your eyes open as he pulled away.

“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, baby,” Bucky rumbled, his voice so low and gravelly, you felt its deep tenor roll down your spine and settle deliciously in your core. As he spoke, he tilted his hips just the right amount and pushed the head of his cock into your dripping hole, making both of you groan in pleasure.

“Right back at ya, daddy,” you quipped at him, your voice embarrassingly breathless as you clung to the blankets of your bed and arched your spine, pushing back into Bucky as he pressed forward.

It took one long, glorious moment for Bucky to sink the full length of his cock inside your drenched, sopping wet pussy, and you nearly blacked out at how good it felt after so long of his teasing torture.

He was bigger and thicker than any man you’d ever been with—though you’d never in a million years admit that to him—and it was always a little overwhelming when he first slid inside. But you loved it. You loved the way your body stretched to fit him, the way you could feel your pussy wrapped so snugly around his thick length. You loved the way you could feel him throb and twitch inside you, especially when he was close to cumming.

And you could tell by the way his cock was twitching inside your tight hole that he was already close. That was good, because after all his teasing had worked you up, you didn’t think you were going to last long anyway.

Bucky gave you a moment to adjust to his size while he yanked his t-shirt over his head. Then he was pressing his bare chest to your back and pushing you deeper into the soft blankets of your bed until you lay prone beneath his strong body.

Only then did he pull his hips back, making you feel every delicious inch of his thick cock, before slamming inside again. Wrapping his arm underneath your neck, he tucked his bicep beneath your chin and held you pinned to his chest, forcing you to arch your spine more and feel the way his hips clapped against your ass as he pounded into you.

“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, baby,” Bucky growled in your ear, grinding his cock into the depths of your cunt until you were whimpering beneath him. “You’re daddy’s good little slut, and only daddy can fuck your pussy the way you need it, isn’t that right?”

“Yes—yes, daddy, you fuck me so good,” you cried out, hands scrabbling at the bed sheets for leverage to push back into him.

“Tell me what I want to hear,” he demanded harshly in your ear, the words sinking into the deepest parts of your brain.

A twisted smile curled the corners of your mouth because you knew exactly what Bucky wanted to hear, and you were only too happy to give it to him. It was safer to admit what you were about to admit because it was the heat of the moment, and you hoped Bucky would think you were just saying it to make him happy. Only you could know that you meant every word.

“You fuck me so much better than John, daddy,” you purred, pushing your hips back into Bucky’s thrusts, forcing him deeper into your cunt until you were so full of him, you thought he was imprinting himself on your very being. “Your dick feels so good, so big, daddy—you’re the only man who fucks me so good, Bucky, you’re the best dick I’ve ever had. ”

“Fuck—fuck, baby,” Bucky bit out, his mouth brushing against your cheek, his stubble rasping against your skin and making you shiver. He fucked you harder, faster, rutting into your slick cunt like he was trying to leave another mark inside you. “Rub your clit for me, wanna feel you cum on my fat cock.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You slid your hand between the blankets and your body, slipping it between your thighs and circling the tight nub of your clit with a viciousness that matched how Bucky was fucking you. Your inner walls clenched down hard on Bucky’s cock, dragging filthy groans from both your mouths as he pushed deeper and began grinding inside you.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “Never felt anything so tight.” He let out a harsh breath, his forehead falling to your shoulder as he kept up his relentless fucking, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of your release. “Feels like you’re choking my cock, baby—I can’t hold on much longer.”

“Choke me, daddy,” the words tumbled from your lips before you could stop yourself, the deepest recesses of your brain responding to Bucky’s words in a plea for one of your darkest desires.

Bucky’s bicep and forearm squeezed the sides of your neck instantaneously, giving you what you begged for and cutting off some of your air so you were forced to gasp for every little breath. You pussy squeezed tighter around his cock, wringing a rasping chuckle from the depths of his chest.

“You’re such a filthy, depraved little slut, baby,” Bucky murmured teasingly in your ear before nipping the shell with his teeth, dragging a ragged cry from your lips. “Ya like it when daddy chokes you, huh? Bet John fucking Walker doesn’t choke you like this, does he?”

“No,” you gasped, your voice hoarse but genuine as you admitted, “He’d never choke me—he’d never treat me like a slut.”

“That’s fucking right,” Bucky growled, somehow managing to fuck you even harder, his hips snapping into your ass so hard, you could hear the sharp clapping of his skin against yours even over his heavy breaths panting in your ear.

“I’m the only man who can fuck you like you need it—dirty and rough. That’s how you like it, isn’t it, baby—you like being fucked like a slut?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, as much in response to Bucky’s debauched question as to the feeling of his cock pounding into your cunt. You were so close—so close you could barely think, but you knew everything Bucky was saying was right. He was the only man who fucked you the way you needed it, and you needed to cum on his cock.

Thankfully, Bucky seemed to want the same thing.

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled in your ear, his hips slamming his cock into your body hard enough to nearly hurt, but the pain-edged pleasure only pushed you closer to your release. “Cum on daddy’s cock while he’s choking your pretty little neck and fucking you like the filthy slut you are.”

Bucky’s words and his cock, and your fingers on your clit, sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and a ragged scream tearing free from your lips. Pleasure consumed you, body and mind alike, until all you knew was the sensation of ecstasy drowning out everything else.

It went on for one long, endless moment, pleasure pulsing through your being until it finally abated. Then, the world began to reform around you. Slowly, you returned to yourself, Bucky’s cock still driving into you, his thrusts turning wild and desperate as he growled in your ear.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby,” he was rumbling, rutting into you while your pussy squeezed him in a perfect clenching rhythm. “Feels like your cunt’s begging for my cum. Is that it? Ya want my cum that fucking bad, baby?”

“Yesss,” you moaned, your limbs melting beneath him as you savored the feeling of Bucky chasing his release in your body. “Want your cum, daddy, please gimme it,” you whimpered, weakly pushing your hips into his big body in a wordless plea.

Bucky grunted a soft, “Fuck,” and then pressed deep, burying his cock to the hilt in your still pulsing cunt as he came. He let out a long groan, his cock twitching against your inner walls while he emptied his balls into your pussy, the warmth of his cum filling you up.

It felt so good, your lips curled at the edges in a happy smile. Every part of you felt warm and satisfied, and you basked in the unmatched afterglow that came in the wake of getting fucked by Bucky Barnes.

When he was finally spent, Bucky eased his hips back, pulling out of you gently so he didn’t hurt your thoroughly used pussy. You appreciated the effort, even if you did feel a pang in your gut at the loss of him, like your body was mourning his absence.

Bucky rolled off you and flopped onto his back, leaving you limp and sated.

And cold.

The man who’d just fucked you better than anyone else ever had made no move to pull your naked body into his, but that wasn’t surprising. Bucky wasn’t the type to initiate post-sex snuggling, though he didn’t stop you from cuddling into him if you initiated it.

Gathering your strength, you heaved your body toward Bucky, draping yourself on top of him, wrapping an arm over his stomach and hitching your thigh over his hip. Your cooling skin pressed to his heated body as you tucked your face into his neck, cooing happily when his arm curled around your shoulders, holding you against his side.

But a post-sex snuggle wasn’t the only thing you’d been looking for.

Your mouth found the side of Bucky’s neck, your lips working against his skin, kissing and sucking and biting him while he rumbled soft sounds of satisfied pleasure. You didn’t stop until you’d left a hickey, but when you pulled away to get a look at it, you decided it wasn’t enough.

After all, you were literally covered in his marks.

So you went back to work, sucking on the hickey until the bruise was so big, there’d be no hiding it—not unless Bucky suddenly started wearing turtlenecks. Somehow, you knew he wouldn’t. You knew he’d wear your hickey proudly, even if it meant he might not get laid until it faded.

When you were finally satisfied with your work, you brushed one last kiss to the hickey, and settled down at Bucky’s side. Your cheek pressed to his chest and you listened to his heart thumping a steady drumbeat beneath his pecs.

For a moment, you were both quiet, enjoying the feel of each other. Then Bucky fished his phone out of the pocket of his discarded sweatpants, which he’d kicked off at some point. He held the device aloft over the two of you, tilting his head to the side and using the front-facing camera to look at the mark you’d left.

“I guess I deserve this,” he commented, trailing his fingers over the gigantic hickey. There was no anger or annoyance in his tone, though, only amusement. He skimmed his fingers down to your shoulder and gently rearranged your arm until the marks he’d left on the sides of your tits were visible. “Now we’re even.”

A snickering smile curved your mouth and you were about to retort that you weren’t anywhere close to even, but the soft click of Bucky’s phone snapping a photo cut you off.

Reaching up, you tapped the screen to show the picture and you had to admit, it was pretty cute. The hickey on Bucky’s neck was prominent and he wore a cocky grin on his attractive face while you smirked into his chest, his marks dotting your skin even though you weren’t revealing too much of your breasts.

It was the kind of photo you’d consider setting as your phone’s background if Bucky was your boyfriend.

He wasn’t, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still want it.

“Send that to me,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

But Bucky must’ve heard how much you wanted the picture, because he chuckled evilly, pulling the phone out of your reach. When you lifted your head to glare at him, there was a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

“If I send this to you, you gotta promise not to let John mark you up again.”

That time, you let him see you roll your eyes while you reminded him, “Only boyfriends get to make demands like that, Bucky.”

Huffing a frustrated sigh and giving you a half-hearted glare, Bucky tapped the screen of his phone a couple times. A second later, your phone buzzed with a text and when you glanced at it, you saw he’d sent you the photo of the two of you.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I just don’t ever wanna see his fucking marks on your body again.”

You nodded your agreement, saying, “That’s fair.” It was the least you could do, all things considered.

Bucky laughed to himself at your easy agreement, then pushed you onto your back and spread your thighs while he sat up on his knees between your legs. “Now, smile pretty for daddy, baby. I wanna take some photos of all the hard work I did marking you up.”

A pleased grin pulled across your face. As much as you enjoyed taking pictures and sending them to Bucky, you loved it even more when he wanted to take pictures of you himself. So you laid on the bed and let Bucky position you how he wanted so he could take photos of his handiwork.

“You gonna jerk off to these when you get home, daddy?” you taunted, staring up at Bucky and smiling for his camera. “Gonna rub your cock to pictures of your marks all over me?”

Bucky’s eyes flashed and his cock twitched between his thick thighs, making your smirk widen. You knew you were provoking him again, but you couldn’t seem to stop.

“You gonna make yourself cum looking at photos of me covered in your marks, daddy?”

Your teasing comments led to you laying helplessly beneath Bucky, his knees keeping your thighs spread wide so you couldn’t grind against anything while he jerked himself off with his fist. The only thing he allowed you to do was knead and grope your tits, your pleasure mixing with aching pain from the bruises covering your skin.

Bucky came like that, his cum covering your fingers and chest in ropes of his seed, marking you all over again.

He took even more photos of the sight of your hands playing with your cum-covered tits, then fucked your pussy with his fingers, sounding very pleased with himself when he teased you for getting off on him making a mess of your slutty body and pushing his cum deeper inside you.

It was late when Bucky finally left your apartment, and you realized you’d been right. It had been a very long night. But even though you knew you’d only get a couple hours of sleep before work, it had been so worth it to text Bucky that photo of your tits covered in another man’s marks.

Over the next few days, Bucky demanded an endless stream of photos of the bruises he’d left on your tits and ass. He was busy at the office and the two of you couldn’t find time to see each other, but he didn’t want to miss any of the progression of the marks he’d left as the hickeys deepened into a dark plum color on your skin.

It turned you on to send so many photos, to see the constant reminder of the marks he’d left on your body, so you indulged Bucky every time he asked for more photos. It helped that he responded with a mixture of sweet degradation and filthy praise that had your heart beating harder in your chest and wetness gathering between your thighs.

Every night for a week, you got yourself off to the dirty things Bucky texted you, the promises of what he was going to do to your body the next time he saw you. But more than anything else, you kept going back to the possessive text message he’d sent the day after he’d been to your apartment, rubbing your clit to Bucky’s words.

Don’t you dare show John fucking Walker your tits with my marks on them, baby. Those marks on your body are all fucking mine, and they’re only for you and me.

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

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smutoperator · 3 months ago

Text

Home Run

Myoi Mina, Hirai Momo x Male Reader

Kinkvember Chapter 8

Main kinks: competition, cumplay, condoms, magical girls, cloning, sex with a fan

Word count: 6595.

Seoul, South Korea, October 20th, 2024

Attending a Twice fanmeet is only for the strongest. The presence of nine sexy girls in the room playing with each other makes their fans always flirting with a heart attack, but the best thing is always the secret draws they always perform for their superfans.

That day, you were one of the nine lucky guys that won the draw. The girls then spun the wheel with their names to see who you were going to get. It landed on Mina's name.

"So Minari, what are you going to do with this fan?" Nayeon asked as she and Sana had just kissed each other. "We are going to play some baseball," she answered. The girls blushed, knowing what that actually meant. "But first I need to get a competitor; let's spin it again," she said.

The second spin of the wheel landed on Momo's name. The blonde bombshell licked her chops. "Let's compete, Minaring; you go first. Whoever scores the most points wins," Momo said. "Deal," Mina answered as she invited you backstage. Momo stayed entertaining other fans as she would wait for her turn.

Mina took you to a secret room, pinning you against the wall and kissing you. "I thought we were going to play baseball," you said to her. "Well, we're going to play a different version of it: the more home runs you score on me, the more likely I am to win," she said, taking your jacket off.

Mina pushed you into a bed and sat her big ass on top of you as she quickly unbuttoned your shirt. "Let's score some points," she said, leaning on top of your body. You giggle, unable to process what was going on. But enjoying it regardless. Mina just kept teasing you, touching your body, and kissing you. She licked your torso, sending shivers down your spine as her tongue touched your sensitive skin.

Mina kept massaging and touching your body as she increased the intensity of her moves, putting a finger up your tongue. "I think you're ready for more now," she said, running her hands down your pants now. Mina then turned around, searching for something in her bag as she gave you a privileged view of her big ass that her short skirt could barely contain.

"There it is," she said, showing you a pack of condoms. Wow, looks like you were really going to have sex with one of your biases. Even if it was with protection, just the thought of entering any of Mina's tight holes already made you go crazy. She started opening the pack, counting the number of condoms. "One, two, three, four, five," she said in Japanese.

"We are going to play basecum today," she said, making a wordplay. "Each condom you help me fill will be one point, then Momo will come in and get her turn," Mina said. "There are the rules of the game," she continued, taking your pants off in one go and smiling as your already throbbing cock popped out of it. "I hope it's ready to cum a lot for me, because I want to win this game," she said.

Mina grabbed your cock, making you instantly groan. She touched it softly, licking her chops as you leaked some precum from the get-go. Suddenly, she put her mouth on the tip of it, catching you off-guard. "Slow, please," you begged as she kissed the tip of your penis and then started performing some slow licks that quickly made your body contort. "Ohhhhh," you groaned as she licked the sides of your shaft now.

"Looks like I'm going to score a lot of points tonight," Mina said, increasing the pace of her blowjob. One pack of condoms covered your eyes as a blindfold. "OHHHHHHH," you groaned hard as Mina bobbed her head on your cock much faster now, getting sloppier and softly stroking it with both hands; your cock throbbed as if it had its own life. "The tip of your cock is so tasty," she said, focusing her attention on it.

"Can you take some pictures of it for me to send to Momo?" Mina asked, picking up her phone from the bag. "Of course," you answered as she handed you the phone and you took pics of her sucking your cock. "Show it to me," Mina said. "Perfect," she continued, looking at the pic of your cock in her mouth, grabbing the phone to then take a selca of herself performing it. "I look so pretty sucking that big cock," she said, taking a few more pics.

Mina kept moving with the blowjobs and the selfies, enjoying how beautiful she looks with that big cock in her mouth. She licked and massaged your balls next, kissing it and licking it. "There is a lot of cum ready to burst for me in there," she said as she let you take more pics of her. She took your cock deeper in her throat. "Ohhhhhh," you kept groaning. "Looks like I'm gonna open the score soon," Mina said, bobbing her head like crazy and jerking your cock really hard.

You couldn't contain yourself anymore, ejaculating right inside Mina's sexy mouth. "Come see your work, good boy," Mina said, sticking her tongue full of cum out. She opened one of the condoms and spat the cum right on it. "This is the opening score," she said, admiring your milky white semen inside the condom, even letting you wrap it up. "Momo and I are going to use the condoms as proof of our points," Mina said as she put it right in her bra, resuming the massage on your body, now with some cock jerkoff as well.

Mina started lifting her skirt, showing her red thong. "I'm going to be team red tonight; Momo will be team blue," she said, then pulling it to the side and teasing your cock around the entrance of her pussy. "AHHHHH," you groaned as Mina dropped down on your cock, letting you feel the warmth of her pussy in full display, you having to contain yourself not to cum again.

Mina quickly bounced on your cock, making you scream each time she got all the way down it. To her it was just another walk in the park; to you it was a struggle to resist the warmth of her holes. She then turned around, showing you her big fat ass. "Tell me, this is what you wanted to see the most," she said. "Yes," you said.

You pulled Mina's thong to the side in her buttock area and let her twerk on your cock. Her asshole winked at you as her pussy obliterated your cock. You started having flashes of her performing "7 Rings" on stage and bouncing that perfect big ass in front of those massive stadium crowds. But this time, you were the only lucky guy to witness it. "Ahhh, ahhhh, fuck, fuck," Mina moaned as you could tell she had practiced this move a lot, hitting your cock perfectly with very fast bounces. You grabbed her ass cheeks, but that only made Mina move faster as she wrapped the condom in the string of her thong. "I know more of it will join it soon," she said.

Mina now rode you at full speed; your efforts to make her slow down were futile; once she's on top of a cock, she only stops when she makes them cum. And this was her signature move; everybody knows it, and she knows it better than anyone else. "Ahhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhh, I need that cum," she said, moaning and then switching to a more violent bouncing, letting her ass hit your crotch nonstop. "OHHHHHH," you screamed again. Mina knew it was just a matter of time.

"Give it to me," Mina said as she went for another round of twerking. You were resisting as much as possible. But even the strongest fan can't resist for long getting his cock destroyed by Mina's bouncy big ass. She wanted it; she got it.

"Take a picture of it, baby; you deserve that memory, your idol bouncing her big ass on your cock," Mina said, handing you the phone. But the dream of cumming inside her would be delayed, as Mina wrapped a condom around it and started jerking your cock off. "Film it; I'm gonna fill it up, ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh," she moaned, getting back to twerking on your cock.

"AHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHHHH," both you and Mina screamed together as your cock pulsated inside the condom. Mina pulled out and showed the filled condom to you. "That's two points for team red," she bragged, spinning the condom with her hands and hitting it on your body, also putting it in the strings of her thong. "I bet this condom belt will grow much larger," she said, picking up a new condom to put on your cock.

Mina used her magical powers to get your erection back up with just the touch of her finger. "This cock looks so nice inside that condom," she said, jerking it off as she slowly put it inside it. Mina got on her knees on the bed, shaking her big ass for you. "Wanna fuck it next?" she asked, bending herself and getting on all fours.

You couldn't resist such an offer and quickly slid your cock inside Mina's butthole. "AHHHH," she moaned as her magical powers had made it bigger for her tighter hole. You were truly living in the dream, fucking your bias's big fat ass in a dominating position, grabbing Mina's butt and thrusting inside her asshole as fast and hard as possible.

"Let's go, pound that ass, fuck, AHHHHHHH," Mina demanded, suddenly screaming when you gave her exactly what she wanted. "Give it to me, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHHH," Mina begged as you showed relentless intensity to do what every TWICE male fan secretly dreams of: fucking Mina's big fat ass all the way deep.

Going so hard on Mina quickly exhausted you, as you let her bounce her ass on your cock too, before taking back control. Her butthole was truly one of the best, squeezing your cock at every opportunity and making you push harder and harder to reach the full depths of it.

"Let's go, baby, give me more cum, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHHHH," Mina said as you kept a relentless pace of ass-fucking, growing more and more addicted to it; her walls smashed your cock like crazy, and you grabbed her butt for better grip before Mina decided to turn things up a notch, bouncing her ass up and down and letting her anal walls hit your cock from the side. That slut is amazing, as she was able to twerk that ass even in a submissive position.

You stop thrusting into Mina's ass and just let her perform another insane twerking session as she keeps moaning hard. "AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she said. Mina ramped up the challenge, getting herself back on her feet and letting you pin her against the wall as you now fucked her ass in a standing doggy position. Mina loved the recoil of her ass from each thrust you gave her, enjoying the blissful sensation of your big cock fully stretching her butthole.

You lifted Mina's leg and kept pounding her ass, trying new positions and taking advantage of her ballerina's body flexibility. "Perfect, fuck my ass like that," she commanded, her perky tits jiggling with your thrusts. You then put her legs back down, letting Minari move her ass on your shaft and unleash her twerking, slutty self once again, her soft skin rubbing against yours, making you unable to resist and start pounding her hard again, groping her tits as you gave her ass fast poundings that she loved.

"AHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH, I'M CUMMING," Mina screamed. Her anal walls clenching as she reached her orgasm were enough for you to bust for a third time. Mina slowly pulled out, looking at your deflated cock as your cum hung on the extremities of the condom. "Three points for me already," she celebrated, taking it out and pushing you back onto the bed, adding it into the condom belt forming around her thong. She quickly grinded on your cock, the contact with her folds getting you hard instantly as she opened another condom and enveloped your cock in it.

Mina gave you a blowjob with the condom on, then teased you by touching the tip of your cock against it. She reached into her bag and picked up her Hitachi vibrator. Facing you this time, she got your cock back in her pussy. "Ready for another ride?" she asked, pressing her hands against your chest and bouncing on your cock.

Mina looked really beautiful as the sexy facial expressions she made while riding your cock and moaning and her cute tits bouncing drove you insane. She picked the Hitachi and put it to massage her cunt. "OHHHHHH," but it was your cock who felt the vibration the most. Mina placed it right at her clit and gave your cock a couple short and fast bounces before stopping and trying to prove she could make you cum with as little effort as possible.

But Mina just couldn't resist being a slutty ballerina, twerking on your cock once again as she pressed the Hitachi between your shaft and her clit. "FUCKKKK," you screamed, already on the edge. Mina sexily moaned, her beautiful hair covering her face and getting messier. She giggled, going with short but fast-paced rides as she increased the vibration in the Hitachi.

Mina then got up as she started to squirt, her cold juices hitting your condom and making you groan even further, even with your cock completely out of her pussy now. Now she just wanted to show she could make you cum in every possible way, squirting all over your body, then finishing you off by grinding on your cock and giving you just enough of a ride to make you cum for the fourth time. You reacted, pushing your cock upwards into her pussy and giving exactly what she needed.

"There it goes," Mina announced with a lot of excitement as she managed to fill another condom with your semen. You could barely breathe, Mina milking you dry as her condom belt got another piece for her to ornate it. But Mina wasn't done; she was already back on third base and wanted another easy score, grabbing your cock and jerking it off hard. "AHHHHHH," you screamed as she opened another condom while her phone beeped.

"Hello," Mina said. "You've been there for a while. When is it going to be my turn?" Momo asked on the phone. "Well, you'll have to wait a bit," Mina says, flashing your cock to Momo on the phone and making her hear your groans. Mina hangs up the phone and goes back to masturbate your cock, searching for one final dose of cum. "AHHHHHHHH," you scream as she picks up the pace, but your balls are just drained, and time has expired. "Well, four points is a good lead; let's see how Momo does," Mina says, getting dressed as she leaves the room.

The minutes keep passing; you get yourself dressed back and wait for Momo. She doesn't arrive, and you start thinking it's just a prank and your fan meet fun was over. You decide to take a nap in that bed, until a tingling feeling between your legs suddenly wakes you up.

"Hi," a short-haired blonde girl introduces herself. If Mina likes to tease, Momo is very straightforward, already greeting you with her tongue licking your cock. She knows she's got some work to do, trying to erase the four-score lead from her groupmate, savoring your cock right from the get-go with a sloppy blowjob as she licks your tip and then dives hard.

"Oh my God, you caught me really off guard," you say to Momo as she keeps masturbating your shaft. "OHHHHH," more groans come from your mouth as Momo shows no signs of slowing down, bobbing her head on your cock without needing to use her hands. She spits on your cock and giggles as your body keeps twisting while she picks up the intensity.

"Let me see the power of that cock," Momo says. She jerks you off so hard you can't do anything but suddenly explode and get her hands full of cum. Momo is shocked but pleasantly surprised by the amount of sperm that comes out of your cock. "Looks like we're going to have a great night; I barely did much and already scored," she says, bragging.

Momo shows you her hands full of cum, opening a condom to put some on it. She teases you now by opening her undersized jacket, letting you take a look at her fantastic abs and big tits ready to bust from that white bra, letting you lick some of your own cum that's still in her hands.

Momo strips you naked at the same quick pace as Mina, sitting her big ass right on top of your cock. She takes her jacket off and starts titfucking your cock with her bra still on, giving it an amazing sensation as your shaft rubs against the fabric of it. As she feels your cock throbbing harder and harder, she increases the pace, your cock completely squeezed between her bra and her sexy pair of momos.

Reaching into her bag, Momo picks a few condoms. She licks and spits on your tip before inserting one in your cock while keeping it stuck between her big tits. As she takes it out of her udders, Momo pulls her jeans down, showing off her black panties that were peeking out from her jeans, and then pulling it from the side as she puts your cock straight inside her asshole.

Momo bounces on your cock with no issue, living up to her anal queen reputation. Her bounces are very straightforward, Momo using her core strength to put maximum pressure on your cock. "You like the way I bounce my fat ass in it? Is it better than Mina's?" she asks, clapping her cheeks hard against your crotch and sexily moaning. "AHHHHHH, GIVE IT TO ME," she says, doing a little grinding on your cock that already puts you on the edge.

"AHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHH, GIVE ME THAT CUM," Momo already showcases her intentions, leaving you out of breath with very fast-paced bounces. Her asshole is amazingly tight even after taking countless cocks over the course of her career, as she takes on your cock as if it were just a regular dance practice for her. Momo squeezes it hard as you reach to grab her bouncy ass and massage it, making her giggle.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK, ISN'T THAT ASS PERFECT?" Momo says as she moans hard. More grinding follows; the way she smiles while destroying your cock is just amazing. Few bitches love anal sex as much as this Japanese whore; her being named after peaches was truly a foresight of the amazing backside she would grow over the years.

You're another one of the many fans that quickly succumbs to Momo's peach, just letting her bounce as fast as she can until you coat that condom full of cum. "AHHHHHHH," you scream as your cock pulsates, squeezed by her butthole. "Ohh, I love it, so thick," Momo says as she pulls out of your cock, taking the condom as a trophy. "Second score for team blue," she says, impressed with the way you completely filled the condom and then rotated it and slapped it on your body, having a lot of fun feeling proud of her work.

"You want that pussy next, don't you?" Momo says as she lies on the bed and spreads her legs for you to worship her meaty cunt, grabbing her head as you eat her out marvelously, getting very sloppy around her clit while her feet massage your back. "Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhh," she moans as you spread the lips of her pussy and start putting your finger in it. "I see those filthy hands in my pussy; hope you get that big cock inside it too," Momo says.

This time, you open the condom yourself and put it on your cock, ready to fulfill her wishes as you put it in her pussy. Thrusting fast and hard from the beginning, you grope Momo's still-clothed tits. "Fuck me hard, baby," she begs, enjoying the way your cock bulges under her fit abs. You slowly pull her bra to the side and start groping her tits. "Come here, baby, show me how much you enjoy those momos," she says as you dive to suck them while still keeping the pace and pounding her pussy.

Momo quickly drives you insane, as you can't resist the urge to pound her pussy harder and harder. The way she's built as a perfect fucktoy to be used like crazy marvels you, as you hit deeper and deeper in her pussy while your mouth stays glued to her massive boobs. "AHHHH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, MAKE ME CUM," Momo screams using her aegyo voice as she squirts all over your cock, pushing it out of her pussy. You use that break as a little relief as Momo picks up her phone before you come with even more force to pound her pussy.

Momo films herself getting pounded like a sex doll, her big tits jiggling massively now as you grab her slim waist and pound her at a frantic rhythm. You finger her clit, hoping for more squirt from her as her sexy body bounces and the bed creaks with your hard thrusts deep in her cunt. You start losing her breath, ready to cum for a third time. You put her feet in your mouth as your cock attacks her pussy really fast. Momo turned into a jiggling toy as she admiired her bouncy boobs on the phone.

You put Momo on a mating press, ready to deliver the final blows to her cunt. She starts spinning the condom you filled following her anal ride, and that quickly makes you burst again. "OHHHHH, OHHHHH, FUCK," you groan, putting Momo just one score behind Mina with another massive cumshot courtesy of her tight cunt, giving her a few extra thrusts to fill the condom further before pulling out.

"Let me see," Momo says, giggling as another cum-filled condom is hanging on your shaft. "Let's tie this game up; I'll let you pick the hole you're gonna use to cum next time," she says. "I want your ass," you promptly answer. "Then take it, fuck me like your little toy," she says.

Momo takes your condom off and, with her magic touch, puts your cock back up again. She gets her face down and ass up as you quickly dive to lick her butthole. "Wait, I didn't tell you you can," she then gives you the green light. you could do it," she says. "Now you can," she then gives you the green light.

You waste no second and dive into licking and sniffing Momo's dirty butthole. Your tongue reaches all the way deep into the cavities of her anus, Momo loving the way she's being tongued. It doesn't take long for you to shove your cock back inside it. Momo makes the first move, bouncing on it before you tame her, grabbing her fat ass and thrusting with a lot of intensity. She moans and spins two of your cum-filled condoms in her hands.

"Show me how much you love that fat ass baby; fuck it hard, all the way deep," Momo demands. Your grip on her body is very intense, as you use Momo the way she's meant to be used. Holding her as hard as you can, you pump Momo with really fast poundings. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she screams as her body can't stop jiggling, her big tits bounce like pinballs. You only get rougher on her, reaching to squeeze her boobs as you clap her cheeks with full speed.

You're exhausted now, but your lust for Momo beats everything. She bounces on your cock a little, but you don't let her breathe, smashing her cheeks and watching her ass recoil hard. You fully remove Momo's bra, letting her bounce her milky udders in full glory, but not for long, as you can't resist the urge of massaging them while you keep pounding her ass. You bring Momo's hot body close to yours, fucking her from behind as both of you get on your knees and kiss each other, you never losing sight of her big tits and keeping your hands on them at all times.

Momo and you fuck like animals. "GIVE IT TO ME, AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," Momo screams as her big tits bounce. But she quickly flips the script, using her strength to get herself back on top and ride you with her pussy now. Spinning her condoms, she bounces on your cock, giving you a perfect view of her jiggly tits. You reach into her clit, making her walls clench. "Let's go. I want you to cum. Cum for me," she says, slapping you with the condoms. You push your cock up her pussy, ready to burst at any second as Momo enjoys the ride and puts the cum-filled condoms in your torso.

Momo takes some pics of her pussy and the condoms as she picks up the phone to call Mina. "I'm about to tie this game already, and I did it much faster than you," she brags, grinding on your cock like a crazy slut, just waiting for the cum that will inevitably arrive. She moves really fast and moans really sexily, using her dancer skills as she spins on your cock. "Come on, baby boy, don't disappoint me; fill me with your cum," she says. But before she can continue, the doorbell rings, and Mina is soon sneaking back inside the room.

As Mina starts bickering with her, Momo remains unfazed. "I'm going to tie this game first," she says, remaining focused on riding you until you finally fill another condom. "Ohhhh," Mina says, looking at all the cum Momo milked from you. "Are you ready to compete with me, Minaring?" Momo asks. "Absolutely," Mina answers.

"Then, let's use our powers to get twice the fun," Momo says.

Both Momo and Mina press your body hard with their hands. An uneasy sensation starts to fill your body as you get cloned into two as Momo and Mina use their magical powers. Now you're going to feel the pleasure from both girls taking on you as you get split into a left side and a right side body. Both sides of you look at each other, still trying to comprehend what happened. But there is not much time for thinking.

Mina and Momo return to the room, now wearing just a microthong with their colors: red for Mina and blue for Momo. "Hi, are you ready for more?" they asked you together, spinning the condoms and wrapping them around their tiny thongs. They brought new packs on their hands, Momo taking on your left side and Mina on your right side. Sitting their big asses on your cocks, they toyed with your cum on both sides, jerking your cocks off in preparation, Momo getting extra horny as she rubbed your tip against her nipples and gave your left side a nice titfucking, then rubbed her condoms against that cock and made it throb even harder before finally bringing a wheel to spin to see what would be the challenges they would undertake.

"Hmmm, facesitting, blowjob, then anal ride," Mina said, very excited. "This should be a tough competition; may the best prevail," Momo replied. "Ready to print our big asses on this face?" Momo asked. "Absolutely," Mina answered.

Both girls climbed on top of the bed where your two bodies lay, each one sitting their fat asses on their respective side's face. Mina went first, quickly smothering your right side with her big butt, but it was Momo who made the first giggles. Both girls stayed put, letting both your sides sniff their asses before they started twerking. You quickly got addicted to the sexy smell of their booties, as Momo rode your left side while Mina even crossed sides, sitting on your right side face but sucking your left side cock.

Getting yourself duplicated and having two hot girls share both your bodies felt like those ASMR stimulations where each ear is hearing a different thing. But the stimulation was two big Japanese asses bouncing on your face in many different ways, the sideways moving of Momo contrasting with Mina's frantic twerking.

As both girls moved to suck your cocks, the contrast continued; Momo was sloppier, focusing a lot on your tip and jerking your left side cock off. Mina, meanwhile, took your right side dick very slowly, savoring it like an ice cream. "Hmmm, so tasty," Mina said after popping it out of your mouth. Momo was getting really nasty, spitting all over that cock as Mina picked up the pace and started massaging your balls, keeping both hands wrapped around it while Momo bobbed her head without using her hands.

Your cum was going to decide the winner of the round as Mina and Momo moved to the final phase. Mina got off to a stronger start, opening her condom first as she was already bouncing on your right side cock, while Momo faced issues that delayed the start of her ride.

Mina started twerking on your cock, but then gave Momo some time to catch up. "OHHHHH," both sides groaned as you could feel the tightness of both their assholes. Momo opted for a more straight bounce, pushing her butt a little sideways while Mina did her signature twerking. Regardless of style, both girls were putting you on the edge of your seat, both of your sides now grabbing their asses and moving them to bounce even harder on your cock. Momo increased her speed, moaning hard as her ass kept hitting your crotch with very strong bounces. Mina's twerk, on the other hand, was very gracious, the slutty ballerina moving perfectly to the sound of "7 Rings" once again.

Both girls kept ramping up the pace, searching for that thick cum. Which side was gonna win? You didn't know it yourself, as both their big asses bounced and got crazier and crazier, each girl trying multiple motions that squeezed your cock to the maximum. "OHHHHHHH, OHHHHHH," you started groaning as Momo came out on top, getting your left side to ejaculate first and taking the lead in the competition.

"That's not fair; she was already very warm before I came to the room," Mina said as she soon made your right side cum as well. "Well, Minari, we didn't say anything about fairness; the first to cum wins, plain and simple," Momo replied.

"Well, let's go to the next challenge," Mina said. "One, two, three," both girls said together. "Vaginal cowgirl," the wheel landed on it as each girl cleaned their respective cocks and inserted new condoms on it, both girls jerking each cock really fast before putting it in their pussies.

Momo went first as she grinded on your left side cock and let her big tits freely bounce, leaving Mina way behind as she was still preparing your right side shaft with a condom while Momo was already entertaining herself with another sexy ride that showcased the sexiness of her boobs. Momo grinded hard on your cock while Mina took it rather slow, going for a more methodical approach and betting less would be more this time, while Momo stuck to what worked the first time, the very strong bounces as she leaned forward to kiss your left side body, while Mina remained at a straightened position.

Momo was now getting plowed hard, while Mina just spun sideways on your right side cock. But in the end, it was Momo's approach that paid off, as she milked you first once again, letting Mina take a picture of it full of cum. Mina was now in a deep hole, deeper than her asshole, as she had to erase a two-score deficit to Momo. Could the ballerina answer?

Missionary would be the next challenge. Momo liked her odds, holding the six condoms that gave her the lead compared to Mina's four. The ballerina moaned as your right side cock found her pussy first, pounding it hard. Momo didn't gall behind, letting your left side body pound her as hard as possible and making her big tits bounce. "Let's go," Mina said, masturbating herself a lot while enjoying the massive bulge your right side provided her. Meanwhile, Momo was getting drilled so hard and getting her tits groped so badly she was nearly falling out of bed, as your left side grabbed her thighs and bounced her to oblivion.

"AHHHHHHH," Mina screamed as your right side cock pounded on a mating press, her legs twisted as she started orgasming but kept moving her walls around your cock. Momo got really loud as your other side drilled her cunt and tried to match the way your opposite cock fucked Mina, but this time it was too late.

"I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING," Mina screamed as one of your cocks went hard in her cunt. "Take it, take it, take it," you told her as you were on the verge of cumming, and this time, even with Momo fully opening her legs, Mina won the round by just a split second, getting back in the game.

Mina tied the condom of her winning effort into her condom belt, and so did Momo to hers. Mina opened another one and spun the wheel, which landed on doggy anal this time. Another category both girls were masters at, with no clear favorite between Momo's fit butt versus Mina's fat booty.

Mina gets a head start as your right side body pounds her fat ass. Momo jiggles her big booty and starts bouncing on your other cock, but Mina is just at a whole level now, twerking her ass hard and searching for that cum that will make her tie the game. The relentless speed of Minari drives your right side to the edge, grabbing her ass hard. Momo pushes her cum-filled condoms into your sight, trying to motivate your left side. But Mina is on a whole new level, her ass recoiling as you pound her fast and hard.

Both girls kiss each other, driving both of your sides mad and pushing harder to fuck them. Their asses are just wonderful, taking your poundings with ease. Both sides of your body grab their waists as both girls scream hard with their buttholes getting stretched out. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," they scream. Your right side grabs Mina's arm and ties it behind her back while your left side gropes Momo's big momos as you thrust hard into her.

Momo moves her hips as her big tits jiggle a lot; meanwhile, Mina just keeps getting drilled hard, their screams filling the whole room. Both girls then move to a standing position, facing each other eye to eye as each of your bodies gets back inside their assholes. Momo and Mina hug their sexy bodies together for more anal penetration, Mina already twerking the moment she gets put in a standing doggy position, both girls riding your cocks with you completely unable to stop them, their hips just moving at full speed as you grope both their tits and they kiss each other.

Mina grabs the cum-filled condom from your right side, flaunting about it being filled to the brim as she ties the game. "You came in too late," Momo scolds your left side as she hits it with the condom. "So, what is the next round?" Mina asks. "Let's do some grinding," Momo says.

Momo starts first, grinding the left side cock of yours against her folds; Mina soon follows suit, both girls rubbing their cunts against those shafts, laughing as their tits bounce a lot. You're so sensitive it barely takes a couple of minutes for you to cum now, Momo prevailing and retaking the lead.

"Well, I concede, looks like Momo won our little bascum game," Mina says. "It's no big deal, Minaring; you were a great competitor," Momo answers. "Well, I'm glad Sana isn't here; she's such a sex machine we would have gotten no points against her," Mina says.

"How about we play some extra innings?" Momo asks Mina. "Of course," the ballerina answers as both girls now focus on your left side body, Momo teasing it with kisses while Mina sucks your cock. "No condoms this time; which hole do you want to cum inside?" Momo asks. "I want to cum on both those big fat asses," you tell them.

Momo and Mina jerk your cock off in anticipation. Both girls play with each other and give the tip of your cock a kiss. Soon enough, Momo is bouncing her big ass on it while Mina sits hers on your face. You're very sensitive now, barely resisting the way her cheeks hit your hips. Momo quickly picks up the pace while Mina squirts all over your face. You bury your face in Mina's squirting cunt while Momo keeps going with her hard bounces. Your right side returns to the scene, and Mina starts it while Momo prepares to milk your left side. "AHHHHH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, I NEED THAT CUM IN MY ASS," she screams.

Both girls bounce their asses on your cocks as hard as they can, hitting your hips really hard. You can barely breathe with such intense anal rides, your left side pushing up into Momo's butt while Mina keeps twerking on your right side. Soon your left side strikes to shake and bursts hard inside Momo's asshole. Both girls are elated, loving that white semen comes out of Momo's butthole. Mina wants it to herself and twerks even harder on your right side now. You grab her fat ass, and soon your right side starts to tremble, ejaculating hard in her anus and finishing this perfect fan meet.

Or so you thought.

Mina and Momo turn around and switch your cocks into their pussies. You're so overwhelmed at this point that it takes less than a minute for you to cum inside their breeding holes. The girls high-five each other, grabbing the condoms from their thongs and spreading your cum all over their bodies with both of your sides licking it. What a fanmeet it was; you would never expect such a thing.

As you were expecting them to restore your body into a single unit, someone appeared at the door. It's Sana.

"So I see you two had a lot of fun tonight," she says. "Momo was so eager she even used her cloning powers," she continued.

"Indeed, that was a lot of fun, and cum too," Mina says.

"Well, can you keep him split in two? I think those cocks are perfect for a DP, and I'm eager to do it tonight," Sana says.

"Sure," Momo answers.

Sana touches the cocks from both sides of your body, getting them instantly hard again with her magic touch.

"You thought the night was over, not so fast, naughty boy," she says.

#mina smut #momo smut #twice smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

1K notes · View notes

lnfours · 4 months ago

Text

close to you | l.n

summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.

warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there

jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍

masterlist | listen to the playlist

before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.

to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.

that was until you met him.

the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.

You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.

sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.

but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.

it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.

until pietra confirmed your suspicions.

“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”

you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”

she scoffed, “more like know so,”

“who told you?”

“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”

you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”

but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.

ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.

he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.

and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.

he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.

so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.

he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”

your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“

“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”

how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.

and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.

as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.

he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.

“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”

your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”

he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”

there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.

the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.

he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.

he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.

he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”

you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”

“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.

you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.

you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.

“hey, lando! long time no see!”

you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.

“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.

“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.

“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“

“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”

what was that supposed to mean?

you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“

“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”

you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.

“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.

“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”

lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”

you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”

you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”

“up to your room, huh?”

you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”

“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.

“yeah, we can put it that way.”

he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.

he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.

“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”

he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”

you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.

finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”

he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”

you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”

he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.

the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.

you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”

you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.

“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”

“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”

you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.

he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.

his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”

your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”

he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”

his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.

“never mind, it’s dumb-“

“lando,”

“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“

you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.

it was too late now, no going back.

you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.

“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“

it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.

you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.

when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.

“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.

“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.

“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”

“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”

you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”

“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”

you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”

“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.

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puckinghischier · 4 months ago

Text

Quick Study

Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

WARNING: SMUT! minors DNI. 18+. unprotected sex, fingering, oral fem!recieving, oral m!receiving, p in v, smut with the smallest sliver of plot. praise kink if you squint sideways and upside down.

summary: quinn loves to help you experience new things

notes: so…i don’t know what happened i think i blacked out tbh. this is kinda on theme with the request but also kinda not?? more so inexperienced!reader than in innocent!reader. idk my fingers had a mind of their own okay? enjoy 🫶🏼

request: I read a post that headcanons Quinn getting off on teaching you things and how to do things well, and that has just convinced me he has a thing for innocence… feel like that could be a great premise for smut

[4.4k]

Quinn has always been praised for his patience and willingness to teach those around him. It’s likely what landed him his new captain residency, but he likes teaching. He always said if he didn’t make it in the league he’d like to be a teacher and a coach, spreading his knowledge of history and hockey to the next generation.

What he didn’t realize until he met you, though, was how much he really enjoyed teaching.

He loved explaining the game to you, seeing your eagerness to pay attention and learn for him. Watching you glance at the cheat sheet he made you on your phone during games, making sure you’re able to keep up with the various penalties called, has him puffing out his chest a bit.

He loved explaining to you the most recent book he was reading, telling you all about the time period and the historical context of whatever story piqued his interest that week. He’d notice the empty space on the bookshelf after he finishes the book, glancing over to your side of the bed to discover the book with your bookmark tucked neatly between its pages, heart swelling when you’d bring it up over dinner, wanting to learn about his interests.

What he loved the most, though, was figuring out everything he could teach you.

He knew when the two of you first met that you were fairly inexperienced, not having ever really dated much before, but once he realized how inexperienced you really were? His mind went wild with the possibilities.

There was a certain pride he felt in being the person to guide you through all of these new experiences, never rushing you, always making sure you were one hundred percent comfortable before he tried anything new. He encouraged you to ask as many questions as you needed, telling you there’s never any reason to feel embarrassed around him.

He’d note the way you’d sit there and take in every word as he explained the different scenarios and sensations certain actions could elicit from your body, eyes wide and hungry. The second he would open the conversation for any questions or clarifications he could see the nervousness creep in, almost retracting into yourself out of embarrassment.

“I just…I don’t know exactly what you mean. You can…you know…feel that just from your mouth?” you’d ask him, voice barely above a whisper and eyes darting all over the room.

“Oh, darling, I can’t wait for you to experience the amount of things I can make you feel with my mouth,” he would nearly groan out, both angered and thankful that no other guy you’ve ever been with allowed you to experience all that the body has to offer.

Your cheeks would instantly heat, but not out of embarrassment. Quinn could see the gears turning in your head, the slight adjustment of your thighs coming closer together hinting to him how much you’re enjoying the picture painted in your head.

The day you told Quinn you had never experienced an orgasm, though? He was nearly seeing red.

“What do you mean you’ve never ‘gotten there’” he repeated your own words, not realizing the harsh tone of his voice until you looked away from him, watching your face contort into an expression of guilt.

“I- I don’t know. I mean, the couple of times I’ve actually…you know…went there with a guy, it never really happened. I guess I was doing something wrong, I don’t know,” you spoke softly, shrugging meekly.

Quinn took a deep breath, calming himself the way he would on the ice, before scooting closer to you and grabbing your hands. “You could never do anything wrong, you hear me? The fact that the fools you were with before were too sorry to make sure you were taken care of, and apparently didn’t know what the hell foreplay was, is not your fault.”

Nodding slowly, you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth and chewed on it lightly. “I think…I want you to show me,” you said so quietly Quinn thought he imagined it.

“Say that again?” he needed you to clarify, wanting to make sure he’s not just hearing what his dick wants to hear.

You inhale, preparing yourself to put on your brave face and finally find the courage to tell a guy what you want. “I want you to show me. Teach me what it’s like. I want to experience it with you.”

And damn. If that didn’t get Quinn’s dick rock fucking hard. The idea of showing you everything you’ve been missing, everything he knows he can make you feel? He could almost come right here on the couch, never even having to touch your skin.

Quinn didn’t say a word, simply grabbing your hand and prompting you to stand, leading you to the bedroom that was practically shared at this point, considering how often you stayed at his apartment.

He sat you down on the edge of the bed, standing in front of you and looking down at your big, round eyes. He had to remind himself this was about you, and not to get too ahead of himself.

Bringing a hand up to caress your face, brushing away a small strand of hair, he rests his hand on your jaw, thumb brushing over your soft, pink lips. Using the slightest bit of pressure, he wedges his thumb in-between them, causing them to part just enough for him to slip it into your warm and inviting mouth.

He feels your tongue swirl around the tip of his finger, never once breaking eye contact with him. He closes his eyes, the image in front of him overloading his brain. The second you start to suckle on the rough pad of his digit, he jerks his hand back, surprising you.

“Sorry, did I do something wro-“

“No, never,” he interrupts you, voice low and gravely. “But this is about you and I can’t let myself get carried away.”

Opening his eyes, he sees the flush come back to your cheeks, watching the outline of your tongue rolling around in your cheek. “I want to learn,” you look at him with pleading eyes.

“I know, baby, we’re gonna get there, promise,” he assures you, catching your chin between his thumb and index finger.

You shake your head back and forth, “No, I want to learn how to please you.”

Quinn can feel every ounce of blood in his body make its way straight to his already near painful cock. The innocence and eagerness on your face making his knees buckle.

“I’ve never…given a…a blowjob before,” you stuttered, your bashfulness from earlier coming back. “I never felt like I’d do a good job, and I didn’t want to disappoint anyone and scare them away, so I always said no. But I want you to teach me. Please?” you pleaded, using your eyes to convey your willingness.

If there was ever a world record for how fast a man can come without even being touched, Quinn would say he’s a pretty close contender right now.

He clears his throat, trying to choke down the groan that nearly came out. “I- uh. Are you sure?” is all he’s able to sigh out, feeling like an idiot because he can’t even form words.

You nod your head silently, not knowing if you could find the courage to ask again.

“Fuck, baby,” Quinn shudders, swallowing thickly, bringing a hand down to readjust himself in his sweats.

Figuring you need to show some sort of initiative, you bring your hand up to replace his, cupping him over the thin material.

Quinn’s entire body jerks forward at the feeling of your small hand covering him, resting his hands on your shoulders for support.

Your breath catches, not expecting to receive such a reaction from him, but it only encourages you to keep going, squeezing just enough to apply a slight pressure to his length.

Quinn grunts, shuddering at the sensation. “Fuck, Y/N.”

The sound of his voice, a slight whine but still deep and powerful, shoots a bolt of arousal straight between your legs. You start stroking his still clothed shaft, enjoying teasing him.

“Show me what to do, Q,” you whisper seductively, his actions only growing your confidence in your actions.

With his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, he wastes no time in moving your hand and ripping the sweatpants down so roughly his dick literally springs free. He sighs at the lack of constriction, creating a sweet friction with his own hand.

Seeing him bare for the first time, you feel the extra saliva form in your mouth, wanting nothing more than to wrap your lips around him and find out how his skin tastes.

Too lost in the beauty of the man in front of you, you don’t realize he’s gazing down at you, watching how in awe you are of him.

“Babygirl, you can’t look at me like that and expect me to last longer than three seconds once you start touching me,” he snaps you out of your daze, drawing your eyes to his face.

You blush, focusing on the bedroom floor to hide your eyes from him.

Bringing his hand back up to your face, he forces you to look up at him, the intensity of the moment making you squirm.

“Touch me,” he commands, rubbing his thumb back and forth on your chin.

Following his instructions, you grasp him in your hand again, moving your hand gently across the textured skin.

You pump slowly, waiting for Quinn to tell you your next move.

“Shit, faster,” is all he whimpered, moving his hips to meet your motions.

Moving your wrist a little faster, you’re so taken with the sounds he’s making you hardly feel the bruising grip he has on your shoulder, grounding himself to you.

“Quinn, wanna taste you,” you whined, watching the precum leak from his pink tip, tongue darting out to lick your lips in anticipation.

“Okay, just-” he shudders, interrupted by a moan, “just, no teeth. And don’t take too much, hollow your mouth out a bit, and keep using your hand if you need to.”

Belly swirling with nerves and excitement, you position yourself a little farther onto the edge of the bed, face to face with his strained cock.

Taking a deep breathe, you test the waters by placing a chaste kiss on his tip, licking the salty precum off of your lips. Opening your mouth, you take the plunge and follow his instructions, hollowing out your cheeks as your mouth rolls over his length, your tongue feeling the weight of his thickness.

You look up at him as he watches you, waiting for any hint of praise in what you’re doing, wanting to make sure you’re doing it right.

“Shit, just like that, baby, keep going,” he encourages, feeling you stop when his tip tickles the back of your throat.

You will yourself not to gag, enjoying the feeling of your tongue against his cock too much. Trying to combat the feeling, you swirl your tongue around him, feeling every ridge and vein.

Quinn is fighting against every muscle in his body, from wanting to bring his hands to your head and push your mouth further onto him, to wanting to snap his hips forward and bury his dick in your throat.

“Can move a bit if you want,” he hisses out as your tongue runs across his sensitive tip once again. “Doing so good, though. Feels unreal. Don’t know how you’ve never done this before.”

You want to smile, but can’t with your mouth full of him, so you start bobbing your head instead, slow and careful. You bring your hand up to cup his balls, remembering one of your friends telling you guys seem to like that.

Quinn jerks his hips forward at the feeling, not being able to control his actions at that point, dangerously close to blowing his load down your throat.

He removes himself from your mouth, watching the spit trail down your chin. The sight is so pornographic he almost finishes anyways, digging his nails into his palms as a distraction.

“Was-,” you start, wiping the dribble off of your mouth, “was I not doing it right? I remember someone telling me once guys liked when you touched them like that. Did I scrape you with my teeth? Did I-“ your hoarse voice is abruptly cut off by Quinn shoving his hands under your arms and lifting you to your feet.

“You were amazing. Too good. If you would’ve kept doing that for even thirty more seconds I would have come in your mouth, and while the thought drives me insane, there’s only one place I want to come tonight,” he tells you, bringing his hand down to untie your soft pajama pants as he finishes his sentence, fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of your stomach.

You suck in a sharp breathe as he starts rolling the pants down your hips, exposing your simple, cotton underwear.

“Well, if I knew this is what we were doing tonight I would’ve dressed more appropriately,” you said softly, wanting nothing more than to bring your arms down to cover the exposed skin.

Quinn chuckles. “You could be wearing a diaper for all I care. I’d still be rock hard at the sight of you like this.”

“Weird, but sweet?” you respond, trying to break up the intensity you feel as you kick the bottoms off of your feet.

Amused smile on his face, Quinn shakes his head at you, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the thin material.

You shake your head yes, knowing there’s no going back after this moment.

“Words, babydoll, ‘member?” he mumbles, staring at your taut nipples through the shirt.

“Yes. To everything. I trust you,” you breathe out.

Quinn’s heart jumps to his throat, surprised at how excited the confession makes him. Knowing he has your complete and total trust with something as important as this adds a whole new level to what he’s about to experience with you.

The shirt is over your head before you can think twice, standing almost bare in front of him.

“Shit baby, knew you were stunning,” he starts but pauses, letting his eyes rake over every inch of exposed skin. “but think you were painted just for me,” he worships your body, trailing his fingers over the dips in your collar bones in awe, watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.

“Your turn,” you whisper, feeling the flush on your cheeks, not wanting to be the only one on display.

Not being able to take his eyes off of the smooth skin of your body, he removes the rest of his clothing before you can even blink, staring at the toned man standing in front of you.

Of course you’ve seen him shirtless before, considering he never likes to wear a shirt to bed, and having spent a weekend at his lake home a few months ago. But to see him completely naked before you is a sight you never want to forget.

Breaking the stare you both hold on each other, he moves your body to lay down on the bed, guiding you to move further up the bed as he crawls over you, stopping when your head rests on one of the million pillows.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he pants from above you, bringing his mouth down to place wet kisses along your neck.

You inhale deeply, the feeling lighting all of your nerves on fire.

Too distracted by the feeling of his tongue darting out to swirl along your skin, you don’t notice his hand has made its way to the band of your underwear, slipping a finger just under the barrier.

“Off, take them off,” you pant out, wanting the fabric gone.

“Yes, ma’am,” he obeys, sliding the material off of your body in record time.

Quinn forgot everything he was supposed to be doing when he saw you bare before him. He could practically smell your arousal, watching your pussy glisten in the low light of the bedroom.

“Bet you taste so good, hmm?” he rasped out, sounding like a man starved.

Squirming, your body fights to find some sort of friction to ease the ache between your legs, never having felt so turned on before.

“What do I need to do? Tell me what to do, Quinny,” you whimper, wanting to know what you’re supposed to be doing, desperate for relief.

Your desperation makes his cock throb, having forgot how hard he was, too distracted by you. But to watch you writhe and whine and look to him for guidance makes him painfully aware of how much this is all affecting him.

“Absolutely nothing. Now it’s my turn to make you feel good, darling,” he all but pants, licking his lips like he’s about to eat a five-star meal.

He moves his body down yours, shamelessly dragging his lips down your warm skin, taking his time and savoring every inch.

Once he reaches your soaking cunt, he teases you with hot breaths, wanting to admire every fold and crevice before exploring you with his mouth.

Placing small kisses on both thighs, letting his scruff scratch the sensitive skin, he finally lets his mouth find your core.

Licking a clean stripe up from your hole to your clit, he grips onto your legs, baffled by how good you taste on his tongue. He dives in like he’s never known such a luxury, slurping and sucking every inch of your perfect pussy.

You’ve never felt anything like this before, the pleasure overwhelming. You don’t know what to do with yourself, feeling like you’re flailing your limbs all over the place. Moaning and grunting, Quinn can sense your frustration with not knowing how to express your pleasure.

“Touch my hair. Pull it, tug it, hold on to it. Whatever you need to do. Just touch me,” he instructs you, the vibration of his words on your clit causing you to cry out, tangling both hands into his soft hair.

Quinn groans at the delicious pull on his scalp as you use his hair as your outlet, feeling his dick brush against the comforter as it twitches. He starts to grind against the mattress, not enough to push him over the edge, but enough to provide him with temporary relief.

He continues his assault on your dripping core, not caring if he were to drown in your arousal, loving how it practically leaks out of you, not wasting a single drop.

Once he feels you’re ready, he brings a finger up, slipping it inside of you and feeling your walls instantly clench around him. The sensation only drives him further, burying his nose deeper into you, if that was even possible.

Pumping his finger in and out of you slowly, he adds a second, ensuring you’re ready for him in the minutes yet to come.

Arching your back at the fullness of two of his long, thick fingers, you carry out a particularly rough tug of his hair, earning a moan so loud you want to do whatever you can to hear it again.

“Feel so good, Q. Never – ah! – knew I could feel like this,” you groaned, digging your heels into the bare skin of his shoulders.

“C’mon, know you’re almost there. Gotta let go f’me,” he grunts against you, feeling the flutter of your walls around him.

The unfamiliar pit in your stomach grows at his voice, never wanting him to stop talking to you.

“Oh, like that, huh? Like when I talk to you, pretty girl? Like when I use my voice while pressed up against your pussy?” Quinn asks you, feeling how you clenched when he spoke.

His vulgarness made the ball of pleasure grow even larger, threatening to pop at any moment.

Quinn hummed against your clit, wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud, inhaling just enough to create a small vacuum of suction.

The new feeling caused something inside of you to explode, a pleasure burning throughout your whole body so intense you think you lose your hearing for a few moments.

Quinn rides you through your orgasm, licking and sucking every drop of physical pleasure from your body. When he removes his mouth from you, you’re laying limp under him, the look of bliss on your face sparking a feeling of pride within him.

You have no clue what just happened to your body, not registering a single thing until you felt Quinn’s fingers running through your damp hair, fluttering your heavy lids open.

“There she is. Thought you went and fell asleep on me,” he chuckles, caressing your bright red cheek.

“mmmm” you hummed out. “Think I can taste colors. What did you just do to me?” you ask him, starting to gain control over your body again.

Quinn full on laughs at you, hiding his face in his bicep. “I think that’s the nicest thing a woman has ever said to me,” he marvels down at your state, knowing he was the first man to ever make you feel like this.

You’re trying to think of a clever or sexy response, but get distracted by something poking your leg. Looking down, you notice how hard and red Quinn’s dick is, remembering that he never finished earlier when you had him in your mouth.

“Oh!” you say in surprise, drawing attention to his…situation.

“What can I say? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed,” he references your intense release.

You bite your lip, almost embarrassed. “Well, I can think of something hotter,” you say quietly, reaching your hand down to grab his length.

Quinn gasps as the contact, the most sensitive he thinks he’s ever been.

“Now I want to watch you,” you can recognize the sound of your voice, not knowing what having an orgasm did to you.

Crashing his mouth onto yours, the first time he’s kissed you all night, your grips falls from his shaft, bringing your hands up to pull his shoulders closer to your body. The friction of his skin on your hard nipples alone is about to drive you over the edge again.

“Gonna wreck you, you know that? Wreck you like you’ve wrecked me,” Quinn says on your lips, bringing your bottom lip between his teeth before letting it snap back into place.

You don’t know where the sudden rush and roughness came from, but you can’t say you’re disappointed. Something within him snapped hearing you express wanting to watch him come undone under your influence, and Quinn can’t control himself anymore.

“Show me, Q. Show me what I’ve missed all this time,” your mouth is operating on a mind of its own, not sure what part of your brain has been unlocked by Quinn’s magical mouth.

Quinn growls, hiking your leg up to rest around his waist, leaving the other flat on the bed, standing on his knees as he brings his hand to line himself up with your still dripping cunt, causing your hands to fall from his body. His own hand finds one of your full breasts, toying with the nipple, causing a sharp gasp to fall from your lips.

“Ready?” his voice goes soft for a second, wanting to make sure you’re still good.

“Please,” you whine in response, shaking your head yes.

As he slowly sinks himself into you, he realizes that he’s found his new favorite place. Buried deep inside of your heat, the warm squeeze against his rigid cock, is what he was put on this earth to enjoy, he thinks to himself.

Your whimpers are the perfect soundtrack as he slides himself in and out of your slick, worried he’ll slip right out if he pulls out too much. The ease with which he glides through convinces him you were made for him. Every inch of you, made to be ruined by him.

“Tell me how to move,” you moan out. “Tell me how to make this – shit! – better for you. Teach me.”

Just like before, hearing you whine and beg for him to teach you, wanting to learn from him, has him losing all of his resolve. He completely slips himself out of you, slamming back into you with such force it takes your breathe away.

Hearing your gasp, Quinn brings his hand down, pressing on your lower belly to intensify the feeling of how deep he is inside of you right now.

“You’re perfect. Doing so good f’me. Best little student ever, know exactly what to do without even being told,” Quinn praises you, causing your brain to short circuit.

“Just wanna make you feel good, Q. Don’t wanna take all the fun for myself,” you respond to him, bringing your arms back up to the skin of his broad shoulders, raking your nails down the clammy skin, not realizing the burn of your nails down his back is the final string for Quinn.

He cries out, not wanting to come before you, but he’s so close he doesn’t think he can hold out any longer.

Mustering all the resolve he has left, he removes his hand from your belly, bringing it down to circle your clit, pinching it every so lightly.

He feels it the second you reach your second release tonight, the squeeze of your walls as they clench around him making it impossible for him to pull out, triggering his own orgasm to leave his body and leak into you in spurts.

His body shakes from the sensation, letting out some of the most pornographic noises even he’s ever heard. And he was once a teenage boy with unlimited access to the internet.

The two of you come down from your highs together, Quinn’s hand letting your leg fall back down onto the bed, and slowly removing his softening cock from you, both of you whining at the loss of contact.

He flops down next to you, needing a moment to recover before he made any move to clean either of you up.

“So…that’s what I’ve missed out on for all these years?” you asked out loud through shallow breaths, not even turning your head to look at Quinn.

Quinn managed a small laugh, replying with a small “Told you it was them, not you.”

You turned on your side to finally look at your sexed out boyfriend, admiring the way his hair was damp with sweat and his lip was swollen and red from biting it out of pleasure.

“Well…I don’t think I quite grasped the concept. I think we need to do it again,” you proposed. “You know, for study purposes,” you shrugged.

And Quinn knew you were (mostly) joking, but he’ll be damned if his dick wasn’t already half hard again, not knowing what he was going to do with you now. A monster of his own creation.

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reignpage · 2 months ago

Text

Frat Boy!Gojo

Madri Lager: drunk words

Contents: cursing, just a little conversation between them to set the mood and provide a backdrop for the next fic, not proofread

No fucking way.

There’s just no fucking way.

“Why the hell are you here?” You hiss.

Gojo fucking Satoru strolled into your lecture hall, smug grin on his fuck ugly face, arms folded behind his head and swinging his legs like a maniac. From the doors at the front, he immediately spotted you all the way at the back, sat by your lonesome and you could see his shit-eating grin widen. The whites of his teeth blind you almost as much as his impossibly white hair.

Then, the freak had the audacity to climb the stairs, ignoring the whispering and the pointing, and sat next to you. Well, a seat down because you refused to move your bag, even fought with him a little when he tried to lift it.

He shrugs, slinging an arm around the back of the chair between you, fingertips way too close to your shoulder, and black sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge. “Was feeling bored so here I am.”

Counting to ten, you tried to put on a patient voice, like you’re berating a child, which you pretty much are, and you grit out, “Bored people take up hobbies. Bored people do things like puzzles and cooking and knitting. Bored people don’t crash lectures and bother other people.”

“I love when you lecture me on common knowledge, wifey. It really warms my heart.” To emphasise his stupid point, he presses a hand to his chest and fans his face with the other. “You’re just so smart.”

You slap his hand away when he tries to boop your nose. People are staring, turning their heads like owls as they strained to listen to your conversations. Some people are taking pictures, no doubt sending it to The Bulletin or whatever, because people have nothing better to do than gossip. You hate this attention; the pointing and whispering because of your appearance you’ve learnt to tolerate, but this?

This is just irritating on a different level.

At least once a day, a cheerful stranger comes up to you and asks in bewilderment if you’re Gojo’s fiancee. In fact, they ask if you’re really, actually the future wife of Gojo Satoru like he’s some mythical being and you’re a frumpy little worm. Fuck them. And fuck him.

“Go away, Gojo,” you roll your eyes, typing as much of the lecturer’s notes as you can, a little distracted by the peering eyes around you and the ones running over your clothes .

He sighs and lifts the lace from your dress, rounding the neckline. You feel it tickle your neck, and you fight the urge to shudder. In disgust. With a forced melodramatic tone, he complains, “I’m bored. Entertain me.”

“Are you fucking twelve? Go watch a movie like a normal person.”

“Movies are boring,” he retorts as if it’s fact.

You roll your eyes. “And what? I’m so much more interesting?”

What a stupid question. You really shouldn’t have asked that because the serious expression on his face as he lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug makes you blush. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Did you meet Suguru on the course or was he your piercer first?”

Still typing, you throw him a side glance, feeling suspicious of the sudden change in conversation. But it’s welcomed. “We met on the course. First year. We were in the same class. He’s a good guy.”

Gojo huffs as if he didn’t like your answer.

The piercer’s actually a decent person; he was friendly, smart, and kind. He made long, boring classes feel shorter with his interesting insights and opinions, and he had such a great way of expressing them — he was the most eloquent male you’ve ever met. However, there was always something off about him, like an inner turmoil that neither you nor he could ever quite understand.

It was when he absentmindedly said he was thinking of dropping out that you felt you knew him a little better. You both shared a long talk at the back of the Life Sciences building where your little stroll took you, him smoking and you listening to his mutterings. He spoke of this feeling of being out of place, which you understood better than anyone else, and how the traditional path didn’t suit him. He disappeared for a while, a couple months, and you thought your response might have spooked him. After all, no one ever really comes to you for advice. But when he reached out to offer you a free piercing as his first ever client at his newly opened studio, you realised maybe you are capable of dropping an odd pearl here and there.

“Well, Suguru’s my bestie, so back off,” Gojo pouts.

From your peripheral, you see him eye the big lecture hall and you don’t really know what he’s thinking. It’s an odd realisation to think that Geto, the guy you’ve always kind of admired, is actually friends with this loser – the suggestion that there’s a redeeming quality to the frat guy is one that doesn’t suit you.

Most times he’s easy to read; he wants fun and excitement and thrill. He does whatever’s convenient or interesting, a totally impulsive guy. But there are rare moments, emphasis on rare, where you think there might be something more going on in that huge head of his. Maybe there’s something deeper to him. A maturity and wisdom he’s yet to show.

“Fuck, marry or kill,” he lifts three fingers, “Marx, Satre or Aristotle.”

Yeah, unlikely.

“Gojo, seriously, go away,” you sigh, exasperated. Just five minutes with the guy and you’re already drained. And somehow, you’re expected to live a lifetime with the weirdo?

Satan strike you down.

“Me personally, Satre’s cute but something about big, bushy beards really gets me going. So, it’ll have to be: kill Aristotle, no offence dude, fuck Satre, and marry Marx.”

Two girls in the row in front of you giggle. Your lips turn down in repulsion.

“I’m not sure Marx would like either of us, Gojo,” you give him a pointed look.

He laughs. It’s loud and sudden and he has to say sorry to the entire lecture when it echoes around the hall. Some people laugh at him, or with him, and the lecturer can only shake his head and carry on. This lecturer is strict and merciless when it comes to interruptions, but of course he doesn’t say a thing against the interloper. How could he when there’s a huge placard over the double doors of this building titled ‘From the Loving Hearts of The Gojo Charitable Foundation’?

A couple minutes pass in relative silence, just the tapping of fingers against keyboards and the droning of the professor filling the space, and you think maybe he’s fallen asleep or maybe he’s so bored that he’s actually thinking of leaving.

Of course, neither of those things happen because the universe hates you.

Gojo pokes your side with a pen. You writhe with a blush.

“Oh, ticklish, are we? Very interesting.” He wiggles his brows like an idiot, and you fight the urge to land a punch there. “Our wedding night’s gonna be fun.”

“We’re not going to have one if you had it your way, remember?”

Leaning back in his seat, he taps the pen —where the hell did even get that? He wasn’t carrying a bag— against his chin, considering his words carefully. He shrugs again. “Well, seeing as everyone’s so set on it, I’ve decided to, you could say, open myself to the idea.”

You try to quell the spark of hope there, that maybe your family could be saved, that you’ll be saved. It’s not wise to let that spark fester into something more.

Gojo’s impulsive. Fact.

Gojo’s a thrill-seeker. Fact.

Gojo is an unserious guy set in his bachelor ways. He cannot be relied upon. He cannot be trusted to keep his word.

All facts.

It’s easy for him to be able to have the option to be ‘open’ to an idea, whereas it’s thrusted upon you without much say. He can wake up and make decisions solely based on his urges, but you have to be mindful of the family’s reputation, your father’s bad habits, your mother’s social conservative ways, and the fact that this is all your fault.

“Gojo,” you turn, fixing him with a solemn expression, “don’t do that. Don’t lead me on. I may not want to marry you, but I do want to marry. I must. It’s important to me, so please don’t wave it around like it’s some pretty flag.”

There must be something in your eyes, a graveness or a sombre quality that makes his smile disappear. His brows furrow like he’s trying to understand, trying to piece things together but you’re turning away before he could see.

Clearing his throat, he pokes you again. “Alright. How about this?”

You throw him a doubtful look, worried about what dumbassery is going to leave his mouth.

“Go on a date with me.”

“No.”

“Hey! You said that way too quickly.”

Resuming your typing, you’re already trying to drown him out, focused on the history of pragmatic ethics instead of his humoured tone. He’s suggesting something ridiculous again. As if you’d go on a date with him. Him. The guy who’s been getting in the way, the one who’s been making your life difficult and family dinners awkward, and the one you certainly cannot trust to not set up some trap to humiliate you like in the movies.

“I’m being serious. Let’s go on a date.” Seeing you open your mouth to argue back, he hurriedly adds, “This isn’t fair on me either, y’know? I’m supposed to marry a stranger, one who wears all black and looks like she’d haunt me — not a bad thing, I’m actually kinda into it, question mark? — but my point is, we don’t really know each other. So why don’t we go on a date? It’s a pretty brilliant idea, if I do say so myself.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mull it over. Sure, it makes sense, it would be good to get to know the freak you’re marrying or supposed to marry. This is how it should have been in the first place. Plus, your mother would certainly approve; she’d think this is a golden opportunity to secure him, to make him fall for you or whatever Mrs. Bennet thing she’s thinking of.

However, as good as that idea is, you can’t just eagerly agree; there’s no guarantee this isn’t a trap.

“You’re thinking this is a trap, aren’t you?” Your eyes meet his. He’s grinning ear to ear like he’s proud he guessed correctly. “Why don’t you plan the date, then? Set the time and place, that way there’s no way I could have rigged the environment with explosives or something.”

“No pig blood?”

Gojo smiles even brighter, and you have to squint to prevent losing your vision permanently.

“No pig blood.”

#jjk fluff #Gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk crack #jjk x you #gojo satoru #modern au

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hysteria-things · 1 year ago

Note

HEYY I LOVE YOUR STORIES COULD YOU MAYBE DO ONE FOR CHRIS OR MATT WHERE HE MEETS A GIRL ON TOUR WHEN SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS AND TELLS HER TO MEET HIM IN THE TOURBUS THEN YKK

♛ ONE ° •

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the versus tour takes place in your hometown! while doing autographs, you seem catch the matt sturniolo’s eye.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, choking if you squint, making out, oral (male and female receiving), dry humping (?), face fucking, spanking, p in v, overstimulation, dumbification, marking, some degradation/praising, hair pulling, squirting, cream pie, ROUGHH

ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,427

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i added this to my welcome post but i’m going to say it here too. my requests are now CLOSED because i’ve been getting overwhelmed and i want to get them done LOL but my inbox is still open so feel free to chat with me :)

idk when i’ll open them again, but they will be eventually!

the moment you’ve been waiting for for months has finally arrived. you and your best friend hannah were lucky enough to get tickets to the sturniolo triplets tour in your hometown.

currently, the small talk line moves slowly but surely. your friend is decked out in purple for nick while you’re wearing blue for matt.

“we’re next!” hannah gushes, clapping her hands in excitement. she pushes you ahead of her. “i’m scared. you go first.”

you roll your eyes playfully. honestly, you’re not nervous to meet your favorites. you feel chill, which is the opposite of what you thought you’d be like.

matt greets you by hugging you tight and smiling. “how are you?” he asks, taking his card and signing it.

“i’m doing good.” you return his smile. “you liking the tour so far?”

he nods, eyeing you up and down. he feels something different about you. this doesn’t feel like any other small talk.

“i love it.”

the security man motions for you to go on ahead. of course, you listen and start to grab your items, but matt stops you. “do you have a boyfriend?”

see, if this were any other person you’d be weirded out by this question; but because it’s matthew sturniolo, you answer.

“nope.”

he licks his lips, taking the card that he signed and flipping it over to write something.

the scary security is getting angry and impatient with you, so you can only read what he wrote as you walk away. your eyeballs almost burst out of your skull.

i want to see you after the show.

now, you and hannah are standing in the red carpet line before the show actually starts.

you guys talk until it’s your turn, the both of you going since you want a group picture. first is chris, then nick, and lastly matt. he hugs you longer than the other two.

a chill runs down your spine when his voice tickles against your ear. “i’ll meet you outside later, right?”

he pulls away, getting ready to pose for the picture, but you nod for an answer.

“that was so much fun!” hannah screeches as you guys walk to the parking lot.

you agree, before stopping. “i need to go back and use the restroom. do you mind taking my stuff with you to my car?”

she grins, grabbing your stuff. “sure thing.”

you speed walk back to the venue, fewer and fewer people flooding the area as you wait.

a door opens moments later, sounding like the backstage door, and you turn to the source.

you blush, your cheeks heating up more and more the closer he gets with that damn smile on his face.

pinch me this can’t be real.

“hi,” he says lowly.

“hi,” you repeat back.

he looks at his watch. “they’re yapping away in there so we should have some time.”

you’re not sure what that means but again: since it’s matthew fucking sturniolo… you’ll listen without a doubt.

your heartbeat pumps rapidly in your chest when he sneaks you into the tour bus.

you kind of feel bad for leaving hannah behind… but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

the bus looks way bigger on the outside than the inside, and you’re still trying hard to wrap your head around that you’re with matthew. fucking. sturniolo.

he admires the way you take it all in with his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s sure you’re thinking about so many things right now, but the only thing he can think of is how badly he wants to fuck you.

thinking about a fan that way is insane, but he just finds you so much different than any other fan girl. you’re confident, kind, and gorgeous.

you finish observing the tour bus and smile wide at him. “it’s very cool in here.”

“yeah.” he chuckles. “the beds are a tight squeeze though.”

you giggle, and he steps closer. your mind runs a million miles a minute with each step he takes. “do you trust me?” he questions, now inches away from you.

you raise a brow suspiciously. “should i not?”

he smirks, shaking his head. “i’m just checking.” he places his hands on your hips gently, running them up and down.

leaning towards your ear, he whispers. “be good for me, yeah?”

your legs subconsciously squeeze together, and he cups your cheeks with his palms. he leans in slowly. he hesitates when his lips ghost yours to see if you’d protest, but because you don’t, he kisses you.

his tongue licks your lips to indicate that he wants you to open, but you don’t. you feel the coldness of his rings on the side of your neck before he squeezes. when you gasp at the sudden contact, that’s his sign for his tongue to enter your mouth. “you promised you’d be good.” he says between the kiss.

you smirk. “i didn’t promise anything.”

he snarls, leaning back in. the make-out goes on for at least thirty seconds before he pulls away, the lipstick you had on now smeared on both of your mouths.

your eyes have a mind of their own and look down, seeing his rock-hard erection as clear as day through his jeans. “get on your knees.”

your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at the sudden tone change, but you obey either way.

he wastes no time to unbuckle his belt to pull down his jeans, his dick springing out right in front of you. the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. you open your mouth wide without him having to tell you, and he smirks.

leaning in, he grabs your hair and stops you. “no.” he says.

instead, he slaps the head on your tongue before pushing in slowly. it’s like you can feel every vein enter your mouth, gagging in the process when he’s deep in your throat. “holy shit.” he breathes, seeing how much of him you took.

it’s not all of it, but it’s more than he thought. you give him puppy dog eyes through your lashes, despite them being glossy.

he starts to thrust into your mouth, jaw slack as he watches his dick run past your lips in one swift motion. the grip on your head stays tight, him hunching over slightly to get deeper.

you moan at the shape protruding in your throat, the gagging and sloppy wet noises making you turned on even more. “fuck i’ve been wanting to do this since you opened that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” he pants, moving at an ungodly speed that makes it hard for you to breath. “do you just let random guys use this mouth? sure seems that way.”

you moan again, lifting yourself off of the ground the tiniest bit so you can feel the top of his shoe on your swollen clit.

whimpering at the feeling, you start to grind yourself on it while he still fucks your mouth. your arms wrap around his leg, humping faster like a bitch in heat.

“that’s a little pathetic.” he laughs hoarsely, groaning when his dick twitches. “so, so needy for me.”

you let out a pained sob because along with your throat, the feeling of you grinding also hurts. it would be best if you had something way more than his shoe.

“s-shit.” he whimpers, pulling out to where only the tip is in your mouth, making sure you get all of his cum on your tastebuds. he smears the rest on your lips.

matt lifts you from the ground, bending you over the small table that they have. he grabs your ass before giving it a light spank.

it’s his turn to kneel now, simultaneously taking off your leggings. he bites your ass before sliding your panties over. you feel his breath against your aching core. “jesus christ.” he mumbles. “you’re dripping down your legs already. aren’t you just an eager thing?”

he spreads your folds with his thumbs, blowing cool air on them that makes you jolt. you’re too sensitive for that.

then, your phone starts to ring right next to you. it’s hannah.

shit.

you cannot not answer, because if you don’t she’ll think something is wrong. you swipe, putting the phone on speaker. “hell— oh.”

matt immediately digs into you, eating you out like he hasn’t eaten ever in his life.

“where the hell are you? i’ve been waiting by your car for like thirty minutes. using the bathroom shouldn’t take this long, y/n.”

the man below you squeezes your thighs, spreading yourself wider to practically be nose-deep inside of you. your eyes roll back hard, mouth hanging open with silent moans leaving it. “hello?”

“h-hannah i’m sorry i’ll— mm— be out s-soon. i’m sorry.”

“are you okay?” she questions.

with that, matt starts sucking at your bud, causing your legs to shake. you grip the table as hard as you can, your upper body giving out and laying flat on the surface in front of you.

“yes i’m fine!” you say, trying to reach for his head and push him away, but that only makes him grab onto you harder.

he’s fascinated by the way you taste it’s almost hypnotizing. your arousal drips down his chin, and the way he’s sucking has your orgasm wash over you without warning. “i’m cumming.” you whine, and you feel the smug smile on his face.

“oh, so you’re coming? thank god because it’s a little chilly out here,” hannah replies.

“fuck yes.” you moan but cover it by clearing your throat. “i mean, yes. i will be coming in a-a bit.”

she sighs through the phone. “okay.”

you quickly hang up without saying goodbye, holding on for dear life since your release knocked your legs out.

he holds you, getting up and wiping your cum off of his face. “you’re a bit of a bad girl, aren’t you?”

spank.

“leaving your friend out there all alone.”

spank.

“so that you can fuck me.”

spank.

“like a slut.”

spank.

you wince every time he hits you, the stinging tingling on your ass. he grabs your hips and arches you more.

he moves his tip up and down at your entrance teasingly, getting wetter by the second. “matt, please.” you whine, your pussy desperate for his cock. “please fuck me.”

he stops, waiting for a beat before pushing into you like it’s no big deal. he’s big for sure, but because of your wetness, he slides in perfectly. the both of you moan, and matt stares at where you conjoined. “your pussy’s fucking amazing.” he groans. “by far the best i’ve ever had.”

you start to bounce back on him since he’s taking his sweet ass time, but out of nowhere starts pounding into you.

whatever they have on the table starts to either fall or rattle from him railing into you. he takes your hands and pins them behind your back. “harder.” you wince out, and he whistles.

“you have no idea what you just asked for.” he says, doing the opposite and slowing down. “you won’t be able to speak, baby.”

baby. you moan at the nickname.

you’re way past the point of ‘omg i’m hanging out with matt sturniolo!’

you try bouncing your ass back again, but this time he smacks it and spreads your legs wider to plow into you deeper. “so impatient.” he sighs.

all you can do is scream and gasp for air with each thrust, hands balled up into fists.

your mind becomes blank once your eyes cross, your mouth hung open with your chin resting on the table. he hits just the right spot each time, squeezing around him.

“i— i—” you try to warn that you’re close, but your mind won’t let you.

he wasn’t kidding about the won’t be able to speak part.

“you can do it,” he says, knowing damn well you can’t.

your body becomes limp like a rag doll, matt having completely corrupted you.

he tuts fake pouting. “look who’s cock drunk. be a good girl and cum for me. you deserve it.”

blabbing a response, you squirt before cumming harder than before. usually, you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too far gone to care.

“that’s so hot.” he grunts, fucking you through your orgasm. “come on, baby. one more.”

“i can’t.” you sob, his hand letting go of yours before wrapping your hair not once but twice to lift your body to his.

“you can and you will,” he says, your third orgasm already building up in less than two minutes.

tears run down your face, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. there’s no way the human body can have this much pleasure and be okay.

matt kisses your neck, sucking a big mark when he finds the sweet spot. “i know you’re close already.” he says, his cum starting to leak into you deep.

you can’t stop your body from spasming, letting out one last sob before you cum again.

he pulls out, laying down on top of you and rubbing around your body soothingly to calm you down from your heavy breathing.

he covers your full cunt with your underwear so his cum doesn’t ooze out. he kisses your clothed pussy, and you flinch from the sensitivity. “making sure it’s in there.” he smirks.

after a few minutes, he helps you sit on the table to put your undergarments back on. your eyes are half closed from the post-sex haze.

matt grabs you water and a bag of chips before giving you one last hug. you guys talk for a little before he makes sure the coast is clear for you to get out without being seen.

you’re limping like crazy back to your car, seeing hannah impatiently tap her foot while leaning against the door.

once she sees you, she comes storming over. “you’re so lucky you’re my best friend or i would kill you.” she threatens. “i’ve been standing here for an hour.”

“i’m sorry.” you rasp out.

she studies your face, and it looks like you quite literally saw god. “oh my god, are you sure you are alright? you look like you got jumped.”

“it’s the after-show feeling.” you lie. “i’m exhausted. let’s go.”

she doesn’t question anymore, not even the random snacks and water you have. you start the car and place the stuff matt gave you down until you see there’s a post-it note attached to the bag of sour cream and onion.

to my favorite fan,

xxx-xxx-xxxx

text me when you get the chance, gorgeous

- matt :)

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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