#hes so wide shouldered and thin at the same time. beautiful boy but damn is he hard for me to draw LOL

[assassin-artist]

what ive learned so far

[corroded-hellfire]

The Boy Is Mine (Red's Version) - Eddie Munson x Reader

For @carolmunson’s writing event! Thank you for hosting this fun and uniting challenge 🥰

Summary: A romantic evening at Eddie’s trailer where you finally put a long-time dispute to bed.

Words: 2.2k

“Mmm,” Eddie moans as he stretches his arms out over his head. His tight back muscles loosen at the movement, having become stiff from sitting in one place so long to watch a movie. This is the third week in a row you two have had Star Wars Date Night and even though you both love it, neither of you realized how sore you’d get sitting in one spot for hours or how many times you would need to get up and use the bathroom during the long films.

Your boyfriend looks down at you, where you’re resting your head on a throw pillow in his lap. He smiles as he gently traces his fingertips down your cheek.

“Ready for bed, beautiful?” he asks.

You roll onto your back to look up at him. A rogue curl falls down in your direction and you take the opportunity to wrap it around your pinky.

“I guess so,” you say. 

Reluctantly, you sit up and push yourself off the couch, allowing your boyfriend to do the same. The whole walk down the hallway to his bedroom, Eddie has his hands on you: gripping your hips, sliding them along your waist, tugging at the hem of your denim shorts. 

“I’m capable of taking my own clothes off, you know,” you muse as you step into his room.

“I know. I just think I can do it better,” Eddie mumbles against your shoulder, pressing kisses there and up the side of your neck. 

“Can I change into my pajamas and then you can grope me? Does that seem fair?” you ask. 

Eddie chuckles and takes a step away from you. The moment you move further away from him though, he grabs his chest and acts as if your distance from him is literally killing him. 

“Aw, damn,” you mutter as you pick your bag up from the floor and set it on Eddie’s bed. “Looks like I killed my boyfriend.” 

The overdramatic metalhead drops to his knees, making the thin walls of the trailer shutter, and crawls towards you as if you’re an oasis and he’s been in the desert for days. 

“Need…my…girl.”

Rolling your eyes at your boyfriend’s theatrics, you tug your shirt off over your head. Eddie’s eyes go wide and watch you like a hawk as you take off your bra and jeans as well. You slip an oversized Metallica t-shirt on and put your clothes back in the bag. Something pink and sparkly catches your eye and you perk up.

“Oh!” You pull out a small notebook, covered in stickers in all its glittery glory. 

“What’s that?” Eddie asks, finally standing up from the floor. He tosses his own shirt aside and undoes his handcuff belt. 

“Just something to prove to you that I’ve been right all along!” You point the notebook at him like it’s an accusatory finger as he strips down to his boxers.

“About?” Eddie asks. He grabs an old yellow scrunchie you left over a while ago and ties his hair back at the nape of his neck. 

Instead of answering him, you sit down on the bed and turn yourself until your ass is up against Eddie’s pillows. Then you lay back and kick your feet up to rest against the wall, leaving your body at a ninety-degree angle. 

Eddie situates himself the opposite way, his body lying the typical way with his head coming to rest right next to yours. 

“This,” you say as you open the notebook and begin to flip through the pages. Eddie tilts his head up to try and get a look but all he can see is swoopy handwriting in black ink scrawled across the white pages. “is the diary I kept in fifth grade.”

“Oh God,” Eddie says, running a hand down his face.

“I found it when I was cleaning my room this morning. Maybe now you’ll believe me!” you exclaim, and you begin to flip the pages with more fervor. “Aha! Here we are. My eleventh birthday.”

“Babe, you only invited me to your birthday party because you invited the whole class. It’s okay.”

“No!” you groan in exasperation. “I mean, yes, I did invite the whole class but that’s not why I wanted you there.”

“Right,” Eddie says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, “it’s because you had a crush on me.”

“Ugh!” The fact that he doesn’t believe you drives you up the wall. But now you’re holding proof. It’s right here in black and white—and clearly not in your current handwriting. “Prepare to be proven wrong.”

You clear your throat before you begin to read your pre-teen self’s diary entry. 

“Dear diary, it was a pretty great birthday. I got a new bike from mom and dad. Chrissy gave me some new gel pens and Heather got me a Rick Springfield poster. But the best part of all was EDDIE! Duh! I didn’t see him when I cut my cake so later I grabbed a cupcake and punch to bring to him. I found him in my treehouse and we sat there for a while. Together. Just us! I wanted him to kiss me soooooooo bad but I knew he wouldn’t. It’s dumb to think he’d like me the way I like him. I can’t help it though. I just wanna take Eddie Munson’s face in my hands and kiss him until our lips fall off.”

You stop reading when you and Eddie begin laughing. 

“See?” you say, nudging Eddie’s shoulder with your own. “I bet you don’t even remember that day.”

Your boyfriend lets out a loud bark of laughter before raising his eyebrows at you.

“Wanna bet?”

The backyard is set up with long tables covered in colorful plastic tablecloths, grilled meats or snack foods laid out for guests to nibble on. The day is bright and sunny, but not blisteringly hot to be outside. It seems like half of your class is in the bounce house as you walk past it. A couple of your friends call your name, urging the birthday girl to come join them, but you have other plans. 

In one hand you hold a cupcake and the other a cup of Hawaiian Punch. You couldn’t find where your mom put the extra cups from this party, so you had to settle for the Fairy Princess themed paper cups you had from last year’s birthday. 

Squinting to keep the sun from your eyes, you take another scan of the backyard. Some neighbors talking by your dad over by the grill, a few of your aunts walking inside the house with your mom, and kids scattered around the yard like dice thrown across a Yahtzee board. But not the one kid you’re looking for. Still, you don’t give up. He was here before and you’re sure you would’ve noticed if he just left. 

As you come to the back corner of your yard, it’s both cooler and much quieter. The shade from the looming maple tree brought a sense of calmness to the small, tucked away area. You take a few steps closer to the trunk of the tree and when you look up you see the treehouse you built with your dad and uncle two summers ago. And hanging out the front entrance of your hideaway fort you see two dirty white sneakers, one looking a little worse for wear than the other. 

You walk around to the other side of the tree where planks of wood are hammered into the thick bark; your makeshift ladder. It’s a little difficult to climb with the confection in one hand and a full cup in the other, but you manage to do it without dropping or spilling either. Eddie’s head turns to you as you climb up the hole in the floor behind him. One corner of his mouth quirks into a smile and it has butterflies rushing throughout your stomach. 

Determined to not make a fool out of yourself in front of the boy you have a massive crush on, you set the cupcake and beverage down as you pull your body all the way up into the tree house. Once you’re securely up, you scoot over to sit next to Eddie. Your legs dangle next to his out what could be considered the front door of the fort. 

“What’re you doing up here?” Eddie asks, not unkindly but not exactly warmly either. His eyes never meet yours, instead gazing out ahead, in the direction of children laughing. 

“You missed cake,” you tell him. 

Eddie looks at you from the corner of his eyes and you realize he’s trying to determine if you’re being sincere or not. Anger settles in your veins and you’re suddenly ready to single-handedly take on any bullies that pick on this sweet boy. 

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” Eddie finally replies. 

If only he knew how wrong he truly was. It seems like you’re always aware of where Eddie is in relation to you. Whether it be seated behind you in class, down the table at lunch, or halfway across your own backyard. 

“Well, I did,” you say, trying to quell the heat in your cheeks at your response. “And I brought you this.” You reach behind you and grab the Hawaiian Punch in the Fairy Princess cup. The reminder of what you’re giving him this beverage in has your cheeks getting warmer again though. “I ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?”

Eddie takes it from you and raises it to his eye level to inspect the different creatures depicted on it. An amused smile graces his lips, but he doesn’t laugh. 

“It’s good. Fairies are cool.”

His response makes you feel lighter as you wrap your fingers around the polk-a-dotted cupcake wrapper and present the vanilla dessert to him.

“And this,” you say. 

The boy takes a sip of the punch and sets it down next to him before accepting the cupcake. 

“Thank you,” Eddie says softly. It’s the quietest you’ve ever heard him speak before. 

“No problem,” you answer, just as quietly. 

Slowly, Eddie peels the wrapper from the cupcake and takes a large bite that envelops half the treat in his mouth. As he chews, you notice he has a little vanilla frosting smeared above his top lip. You can’t help but smile as you gesture to the area on his pretty, pale face.

“You’ve got a little…”

Eddie sticks his tongue out and runs it around his lips, cleaning off the mess. 

“Actually,” Eddie says, tilting his head as he looks at you, “so do you.”

A frown of confusion creases your brow. 

“But I didn’t have a bite.” Your hand goes up and feels across your face. “Where?”

“Riiiiight…” Eddie swipes his pinky through the white frosting and dots it at the very tip of your nose. “There!”

The way your face crinkles up makes Eddie’s heart beat a little faster. And when your laughter joins in, Eddie swears he’s in love. 

“I can’t believe you thought I didn’t like you,” Eddie says, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Honestly, I thought you liked Chrissy.” You roll on your side and nudge Eddie’s earlobe with your nose. “That’s why I tried to copy her look as much as I could for a while. Didn’t work that well, but I tried.”

“Chrissy?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to look at you. 

“Mhmm,” you affirm, not meeting his eyes. “Actually, I thought maybe you liked her again last year when you guys were chemistry partners. Or maybe that you’d never stopped liking her. I mean, she is really pretty and the sweetest girl, and—”

Eddie stops you with a gentle hand caressing the side of your face. He turns on his side so you’re nose to nose and slowly swipes his thumb across your cheekbone.

“Aw, don’t be like that. That’s not even true. I didn’t like her last year. Or in fifth grade. Or ever. I’ve liked you since the fifth grade, though.”

You slip off of the bed and rotate yourself so you can lay by Eddie’s side. He tucks you under his arm and presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Sorry,” you say softly. “Guess I had a throwback moment after reading that adolescent angst.” 

“It’s okay. It’s not like I never get insecure.”

“Or jealous,” you add, but with a small smirk. 

“I guess, yeah,” Eddie agrees, cheeks flushing pink at the admission. 

“And possessive,” you say, tightening your grip on your man.

Now, Eddie has an amused expression on his face as he studies you. 

“And you like that?” he asks.

“It’s hot,” you explain bluntly with a shrug. 

Eddie rolls his eyes fondly and presses his lips against your temple, leaving them there for a moment. 

When he reluctantly pulls away, he reaches behind him and turns off the light. The moment he’s back down beside you, you’re clinging to Eddie like a koala bear. He doesn’t mind one bit as he holds you just as securely. 

After a little while, his eyes start to slip closed. But before he falls fully asleep, he feels your leg slip in between his. Your knee lifts until your thigh is pressed right up against his cock. Suddenly, he’s not so sleepy anymore. 

“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem,” Eddie grumbles out, making you giggle. 

“I would hardly call that a problem.”

[megamindsecretlair]

Good day, good day! I've been thinking about this for a while, and now I'm just like, yes, we need it! 😏 Can you pretty please write a follow up to my favorite Franklin Saint fic you wrote recently? A Hold On You. I feel like we need something where either the reader is heavily preggo or already had the baby and like the reader predicted, doesn't like the new body. But our boy Frank comes through with that reassurance he promised. 🙌🏾😌

A/N: Le sigh, I am so, so, so sorry this took forever! I know there's no rush to these things but this has been staring me in the face for sooo long LOL. I hope this was worth the wait!

A Hold On You, Pt. 2

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, Angst, PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), spanking, some dirty talk, all consensual. Daddy kink and breeding kink. Fluffy smut. Established relationship.

Summary: Taking place between season 4 and season 5, Franklin toys with the idea of legacy and keeping the people he loves in his life. Months into your pregnancy, your previous worries get the better of you. Luckily, Franklin is there to kiss it all away.

Word Count: 3,424k

Part 1

A/N: I keep feeling like Franklin gets pushed by the wayside. It's not intentional, season 6 just really still affects me LOL. But I will get over that! Also trying to clean up some of these requests ya'll got for me. I love ya'll so much! Please, consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I don't tag empty blogs.

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @mybonafidefeelings @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @halfofmysoulsblog @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @nerdieforpedro @babybratzmaraj @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @kindofaintrovert @theunsweetenedtruth @theyscreamsannii @iv0rysoap

You stood in front of the mirror in your bathroom. Steam from the shower receded slowly from the mirror, revealing your visage inch by inch. You stared at your body. Well, more importantly, you stared at your tummy. 

It was beginning to protrude. Leave it to Franklin to get you pregnant that same night. No sooner had you realized that your period was late than did your sensitive stomach turn on you. Already it was trying to purge the invasion. 

Okay, that wasn’t fair. You were truly happy that you were pregnant. You knew no matter what, that Franklin would be a good father. Nothing like his own that he refused to talk about most days. They were at a tentative truce. But it seemed like they were on thin ice and the slightest thing could break it.

You rubbed your belly, planting your hand over your stomach. You could not picture your child. Did that make you a bad mother? 

You pursed your lips as you turned from side to side, looking at your naked body from all kinds of different angles. Shouldn’t you have an inkling? An idea? You and Franklin hadn’t decided on names yet. Wasn’t that something you should have by now? Was there a rulebook to this sort of thing?

Tears stung your eyes as you thought over everything that could go wrong. How dangerous Franklin’s life was. His enemies were yours now. Franklin had to look over both of your shoulders to ensure that you were safe enough to walk across the street.

How could you bring someone into this type of life? How could you possibly agree to gamble with your child’s life? 

Horrible, ugly shame filled you as the tears flowed more freely. Being pregnant sucked! Your fucking nipples ached all the damn time. You were gassy now, that was fun. And whoever was in there would likely run circles around you because you were starting to get sleepy all the damn time. 

You sank to the edge of the bathtub and let the tears fall. That was another fun side effect. You cried at the drop of a hat. You cried because you looked funny, cute, beautiful, or fat. You cried because you wanted cookies n’ cream ice cream but Franklin got you rocky road. You cried because you felt guilty for making him go back to the store to get you what you actually wanted. 

These hormonal changes were driving you nuts. What was worse was that Franklin was gone more often than he stayed at home. All you had were nameless bodyguards that stayed outside your place twenty-four seven. 

You felt alone. 

The tears began in earnest. Big, fat crocodile tears that spilled down your freshly washed cheeks. Droplets landed on your thighs and you rubbed your belly. What did you do?

“Babe?” Franklin called out. 

You sniffled and wiped your tears, getting up to close the bathroom door. You ran some water to try and hide your tears. On top of everything that Franklin was dealing with, he did not need to deal with his hormonal, pregnant girlfriend. 

Franklin knocked on the door. “Babe? You okay in there?” He asked.

“Fine! Just got out the shower!” You called back. Did your voice wobble? Did you sound like you had been crying? 

Franklin twisted the knob and opened the door. You sighed, looking away from him in the mirror. Franklin was immediately by your side, lifting your chin and pulling you close.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. He turned off the water in the sink and rubbed your arms. 

You hadn’t realized how cold you were sitting in the bathroom. Tears had a way of warming your face and drowning everything else out. Pressure and snot was not a good look on you and it hurt even worse. 

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you said. You accepted Franklin’s embrace even though you couldn’t get your mouth to move. To tell him what was bothering you. You could have his baby, but you couldn’t tell him what was bothering you? 

Franklin pulled back and looked at your face. “Got another craving? I’ll get it, just tell me what it is,” he said. 

“I’m so ugly,” you whined. You sounded like such a baby, but it was true. You didn’t recognize your own body. It was a chamber now for your baby. You were doing everything right but it was hard to feel sexy knowing that there was precious life growing inside of you.

It’d likely be even worse after the baby was born. While it ripped everything from you on the way out. And then you’d have to breastfeed it and watch it and worry over it for the rest of your natural born days. 

“What? Why would you say that?” He tried to pull you closer but you were fighting him. You needed space, time to think. The damage had already been done but you still had months to get used to this new life. This new adjustment to your routine. 

You didn’t regret having his baby. You only regretted that you hadn’t thought it through more fully. Really understood the consequences of opening your legs and letting Franklin have his wicked way with you. 

Franklin let you fight him but he was an immovable rock. He planted his feet and stood his ground trying to catch your eyes. You looked everywhere but at him. 

“Hey, hey, talk to me. Please? Why would you say that?” 

“Because I am. I’m fat and gross,” you pouted. 

Franklin sighed. “Naw, baby. You’re the most beautiful woman in the entire world,” he said. He kissed your cheeks. You fought him on that too. You felt so horrible. Like a caged animal needing a release. A break. An escape from the torment of your thoughts. 

You shook your head and wiped your tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just got the mumps,” you said.

Franklin pressed kisses to your forehead, both of your eyelids, and your lips. He kept kissing your face until you relaxed in his arms. That, at least, hadn’t changed. You felt safe in his arms. Warm. 

When your shoulders finally dropped from your ears, Franklin turned you so that you faced the mirror. He wrapped his arms around your tummy, hands flexing over your stomach and linking his fingers together. He was already protecting his baby. The thought brought fresh tears to your eyes. You could fill a pool with how many tears you’ve shed over the past few weeks. 

Franklin’s chin dropped to your shoulder and he looked at you in the mirror. He smiled softly. “I wish you could see you as I do. You are nothing but beautiful to me. Strong. Look at this sexy ass body,” he said.

He swayed you from side to side as if dancing to a slow song in his head. You tilted your head. “You’re just trying to make me feel better,” you said. You sniffled and tried to lean away to reach for a tissue, but Franklin wasn’t letting you go.

His fingers lightly rubbed your tummy. His rocking was strangely soothing. Melodic even though there was no music to guide you. His eyes never left yours in the mirror. 

“So? Don’t make it not true. Didn’t I say that this belly would look sexy getting bigger? And these titties? Shit, you lucky I am suckin’ on them thangs all day long,” he said.

You giggled despite your commitment to stubbornness. Your mouth twitched as you tried to suppress more giggles. He did not need encouragement for his corny ass lines. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you told him.

“I ain’t doin’ shit but making sure my two babies are okay. I ain’t gon’ lie and pretend I know what’s going on. But you gotta talk to me when you feel like this,” he said. “I can’t help you if you shut me out.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” you told him. He shouldn’t. You always had a handle on your emotions. A way of feeling them but not letting them control you. Not by much. It took a long time for you to get here and you’d be damned if you let Mother Nature control you.

“I just get down sometimes, Franklin,” you said. 

Franklin nodded and smiled. “ I know. And you shouldn’t have to be down alone. I know this is big. This is big for the both of us. I didn’t think we’d get it on the first try,” he said with a smile. 

You rolled your eyes. He was pretty damn proud of that fact. Told anyone who would listen that he was successful the first time. His parents were naturally excited. None more so than Cissy. She was too giddy at the prospect of having a grandchild. 

“You are a mess,” you told him. 

Franklin’s smile grew bigger, giving you a glimpse of the Franklin you knew before. The one who smiled quicker and didn’t hide behind walls in his mind. Trying to keep everything so close to the vest. 

Franklin kissed your shoulder, lips lingering a second too long. “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. You’re only sexier carrying my baby. These hips? Hmm. Just wanna squeeze the fuck outta them,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. Your tears dried up as you looked at Franklin. At the raw hunger in his eyes. You may feel ugly, but you were far from it in his eyes. 

Franklin moved his hands from your tummy to cup your ass. He jiggled the globes in his hands, grabbing as much of it as he could. “This ass! If you only knew how bricked up I am all day thinking of this ass ridin’ me,” he said.

“Franklin!” You turned around to look him in the eye. His hands stayed on your body as you turned and they landed around your waist. He chuckled and leaned down to kiss your belly. 

“You have made me the happiest man alive. There is no one else I’d rather share this with,” he said. He leaned down and kissed you, taking his time to explore your mouth. The kiss was slow and lazy. You had all the time in the world to kiss him and he took every last second of it. He’d retreat and return just as quickly as if he were starving for your kisses. 

You wrapped your hands around his shoulder and pulled him closer. He rubbed against your belly and you drew back, staring at the damn thing like a traitor. Already getting in the way of your life. Already taking up space.

You sighed. There was just no way to get around this. No way to pull you out of this funk. 

Franklin only lifted your chin. He stared into your eyes for a second, a minute, possibly an hour and your bottom lip started to quiver. He only smiled patiently and returned to kissing you. 

You sighed into his mouth. Where the hell did you find someone like him? Someone that didn’t balk at your panic attacks? Or these new hormones? He’d seen you during Hell week. This was that but amplified. Your body was foreign to you now. You grew up with this body. You suffered through puberty with this body. You and this body had been down a rocky, twisted, and convoluted path to self-love. And now you were sharing it.

Franklin’s hands kneaded your doughy flesh around your hips, getting softer over time. He kissed a hot trail down your jaw, neck, and towards your chest. His lips teased around your sensitive nipple and you hissed, jerking away from him.

“They’re really fuckin’ sensitive right now,” you said.

“Oh really?” He asked. He smiled, holding your gaze as he moved his head once more to lick and suckle around your nipples. Your legs instantly went weak. Your nipples were still fuckin’ sensitive, made worse by his playful teasing, but it also felt too good. His warm mouth felt deliciously painful on your titties and you were sighing and whimpering in the bathroom before long.

Your moans echoed off of the tile in the bathroom. Your soft sighs filled in the empty areas and his suckling grew louder, reaching a crescendo that you matched with cries of pleasure. 

“Franklin!” You half-yelled and half-moaned. 

Franklin went to your other nipple, giving it as much attention. You hissed. So much for your shower. You were growing wetter by the second from his teasing alone. As if sensing that, like the mu’fucka had a nose for it, his hand glided down your side until his fingers teased your clit.

You jerked in his arms and he hummed in appreciation. “Hmm, so fuckin’ wet already,” he whispered against your chest. 

“How can you stand here like a goddess and not expect me to worship at your feet? To appreciate this precious gift you’re giving me? I know I been away, I’ll work on that the deeper we get into this. I want to be here for everything.”

“And I want you to know that I found you sexy when I first met you. I found you sexy when you agreed to be mine. I found you sexy when we found out you were pregnant with my baby. And I find you sexy now. Every day I find more and more things to love about you.” 

“Franklin, please,” you sighed. You could not handle him being this damn cute while sucking on your nipples and his fingers playing with your clit. 

“Do you believe me?” He asked.

“Huh?” You asked. If he moved his fingers just a little to the side, you could cum. You felt an approaching orgasm. Your knees were turning to jelly. You were so, so close.

“Do you believe that I find you sexy? That I fall more in love with you every day?” He asked. 

You nodded. “I know you do, Franklin,” you said. “I just forget sometimes.”

“Well, then, I’ll have to keep reminding you. And keep reminding you. And…” Franklin lifted his head from your nipples as he moved his fingers to flick over your clit. You gripped his arms and shook, the bathroom turning hazy as your eyes rolled. 

“Fr-F-” You were trying to warn him. To let him know that you were close, but he already knew. He kissed you, tongue licking your lips before you allowed him inside. Allowed your tongues to mesh and play with each other.

He smiled against your lips as you finally cried out, crying out your release. You slumped against him as you finished and he gently continued to play with your clit. 

Franklin grabbed your hand and pulled you into the bedroom. You giggled trailing after him. He held your hands while you sat on the bed. You were pleasantly wet, feeling the squishy essence in between your legs.

Franklin wasted no time getting naked. You watched him with a smile dancing on your lips at how beautiful he was. Did he have a clue? Did he come close to understanding what you felt for him?

“You make me so happy, Franklin,” you told him. 

Franklin shed the last of his clothes and stepped closer with a big grin. His grin was infectious, causing one to split your face in two. Cheeks aching from the strength of love pouring from your veins. 

“You make me happy too, babe. I don’t ever want you to doubt how beautiful you are. If you do, let me know. I’ll sort that shit out,” he said.

You giggled as his lips returned to yours, joining you on the bed. He settled onto his back and then pulled you to straddle his hardening length. You bit your lip, a bit of shyness creeping in. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done this before. That he hadn’t seen everything about you and kept coming back for seconds. 

Things were different now. Everything changed. But Franklin didn’t let you wallow. He encouraged you to sit in his lap. 

It took some wiggling and a lot of guidance on his part since you couldn’t see his length past your belly. Once the tip of him grazed your wet entrance, the shyness left your body.

You moaned as you sank onto his dick, gliding down until he was fully seated inside of you. Your hands braced yourself on his chest as you acclimated to his size. He wasn’t huge, but he stretched you plenty. 

Your eyes were closed, reorienting yourself with the feel of him inside you. God, you missed this. You had sex in the beginning but your morning sickness was awful. You couldn’t keep shit down. Everything smelled and crackers tasted like cardboard. 

You sighed as Franklin rubbed your hips and your back. “Feel good, baby?” Franklin asked. 

“Yes, baby,” you moaned.

“You look good, baby,” he said. You looked down in time to see his gorgeous smile. Franklin was playing with the idea of a beard. It was coming in nicely. Framing his face and making him look older and wiser. Sexier. Like a dad already. A dad you’d like to fuck. 

You smiled at your own little joke. “Thank you, Daddy,” you said.

“Go on and get yours then,” he said. He smacked your ass with his hand, leaving a ghost-hot sting behind that made you hiss and look at him with mischief. If he wanted to play…

You slowly grinded on his dick, rolling your hips back and forth. Franklin licked his lips and rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked down to where you were joined. 

You continued the slow roll, getting him used to that before you started bouncing in earnest. “OH shit,” he moaned. 

You grinned and kept bouncing, up and down on the entire length of his dick. He hissed and rolled his hips in tune with yours until you were matching each other perfectly. In sync as only you two could be. 

His hands gripped your hips. You didn’t know if you were bouncing on him now or if he was pulling you down on his dick. Either way, you were both speed-running towards that beautiful peak. Hand in hand, racing forward faster and further until you were both screaming out an orgasm. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chanted.

“Shit, oh fuck,” Franklin roared. 

Sweat rolled down your back. You leaned forward so you could kiss Franklin. Your kisses were sloppy, jerky, as you rode out your orgasm. Some unknown force took over, unable to help yourself from continuing even though you were too over the moon. Too far gone. 

Maybe this was what he felt like when he kept going even after you came. That driving need to stay connected, stay buried in each other. Your hips kept rolling until you were too weak and spent to keep going. Your legs finally giving out as you collapsed on top of him. 

Franklin groaned and rolled you over until you were beneath him now. He slipped out and you licked your dry lips, turning your head to the side. You did not want to stop, but you were out of breath. In danger of passing out altogether.

You never experienced a mutual orgasm before. It was usually one after the other. Like a gentleman, Franklin always made sure you came first. Sometimes multiple times before he allowed himself to climax. 

Franklin gave your tummy multiple kisses. Every inch of skin was covered with his lips. He laid prayer after prayer into your skin. 

For the first time all day, you felt beautiful. You felt loved. You felt like the most gorgeous woman on the planet. 

“I love you, Noodle,” he said, calling your baby by the nickname you agreed on. You didn’t know why, it just felt like a Noodle, nestled in there. 

Your heart swelled, seeing his face as he continued to kiss your stomach. You rubbed his head as he continued talking to Noodle telling it how he was going to protect it, love it, cherish it, and that it had the best mom on the planet. 

Tears prickled your eyes for entirely different reasons and you tried to blink them away but couldn’t. Franklin kissed up your stomach and couldn’t resist a final lick and tug on your overly sensitive nipples. 

When he reached your mouth, he smiled and kissed you. He sighed into your mouth. “I love you, baby,” he said.

“I love you even more, Franklin.”

THE END

The Secret Franklin Saint Files | Part 1

[dollwrites]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 — 𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!suiseki!reader, noise control, finger sucking, king of tsundere himself, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ i didn’t plan on writing this, but i can’t get the idea of kanata shoving his fingers in my mouth out of my head. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

“You’re being too loud again.” Kanata was panting out a ragged whisper in your ear, but you could hardly hear it over your own, loud whimpering and the table thump-thumping to the rhythm of his greedy thrusting. he may have been a self-centered lover, a learned selfishness from years of neglect or, perhaps, because he had to steal everything else he’d ever had. but, you’d be damned if you didn’t love the way he stole you, too. “You trying to get me killed?”

there’s a tinge of amusement lacing the sarcasm dripping from his husky voice, but the threat was a very possible outcome if anyone found out that he claimed you like this. quick, needy, disrespectful fucking. against the wall, in a closet, or — like this time — on a table. whenever and wherever Kanata could get his hands on you, usually on the way out after meeting with Iori and picking up his pay. “Shh…”

“K, K! H—harder, oh god, harder!” he was already pounding hard, the legs of the table you’re boosted on to grinding into the floor, leaving skid marks, and he was hilt deep already. his sweatpants shoved down around his thighs, his balls were heavy with need for you, and made a deliciously wet slap due to the way you squelch when he pushes deep. Kanata made you so wet that you couldn’t help but erupt like a geyser when he hit your sweet spots, and thankfully he didn’t mind the mess you always left on him. you knew it’d be the same today, he’d pull the frayed hems of his hoodie down to cover the wide, damp stain that smelled like you on his crotch. his clothes weren’t the only ones that suffered, though. your panties, pulled to one side for the quickest access to your cunt he could get, were soaked, too.

“Shut up,” he grunted, thin brows furrowing close together and teeth grinding when you grasp a handful of lavender locks, skewing his lazy side pony further, and jerking hard. expelling a heavy breath into your neck before pulling back, his head tilted upwards to accommodate your vice, lips parted, amethyst gems sparkling and pupils blown out with lust as he watches you squirm and cry out for him, against his demands to quieten down. “They’ll hear you.”

you couldn’t keep quiet, anyways. you couldn’t stifle your pleasured whines or the way you wanted to scream his name until your voice went hoarse. with your trembling knees dug into his ribs, your manicured nails biting at his shoulder and his scalp, your voice was your last line of defense against the haphazard way he fucked you. you didn’t care about the other boys in the building, the ones that you called your family, the ones that could — at any moment — hear you scream for Kanata and come running to ruin this beautiful, depraved moment with him.

all you cared about in this moment was Kanata, and how fucking good his cock felt inside you.

“Gonna cum!” you yip, your eyes threatening to roll back, toes curling. your knees tighten against his ribs, trying to lock him in place so you could ride out your high, “G—gonna c—!”

Kanata cut your mewling short, his middle and ring finger pushing into your mouth, muffling the sounds. they reach to the back of your throat in an instance, teasing your gag reflex as the rough, calloused pads press down hard on your tongue. your first instinct is to gurgle, eyes widening and flitting to look up at him. he was so close to you, his breath tickling the apples of your cheeks as his thumb anchors itself under your jaw, keeping you from pushing his fingers out as he fucked you into bliss. “Spoiled brat,” he spat, but there was a subtle yet undeniable fondness in his degradation. “I said shut up… You’re just gonna make me shut you up myself?” he moves them in your mouth, back and forth, to the reckless rhythm in which his hips snap to yours, and your eyes start to water as his digit tips prod at the opening of your throat each time, but this new way to keep you quiet had your pussy clenching, clamping down in his cock until he was breathless and struggling to keep his composure. “That’s— it… come on, princess,” the nickname sounded more like an insult coming from him, but it only made you wetter, “just keep… milking me… fuck, suck my fingers, baby.”

you obey, but only to keep as quiet as you could, sealing your glossy pink tiers around his fingers, you tasted the salt in his skin, your moaning turning to muffled vibrations as you struggle to keep your eyes open and on him.

but, you knew he was close and you wanted to see him cum.

his lip twitched, as if he were about to bare his teeth, his eyes glazing and falling out of focus as he becomes solely zeroed in on reaching his peak. his free hand grips tight on your hip, pulling you in to his movements, as the last few, erratic thrusts send you into your own tizzy. Kanata lets out a raspy moan, pushing you back and separating your bodies just in time for him to cum. wrenching his hands away, he uses them to pry your knees off of him, holding them far apart so he can pull out. as soon as he does, with a strangled cry from you, he releases, painting your panties and netherlips, the glaze dripping on to the table under you.

your chest was heaving for a moment, and you stare down at the mess he’s made of you, too, until you notice he’s staring at your face. it was only then that you felt the thin strings of saliva that he’d pulled from your mouth as they dribble on to your chin and leave little, damp patches on your top. you look up at him and smile. it was a half-dick drunk, silly grin, but it was enough to at least soften his gaze with a hint of adoration. “How the hell do I keep ending up here?” he asked in a low voice, pulling away to tuck himself back into his pants.

you sit up, and lean forward to catch him in a tight back hug, nuzzling your face in his shoulders. “Maybe you like me?” you ask, before adding, “I like you.”

Kanata’s silent, but he also doesn’t push you off for several moments, as if he’s deep in thought about something, before he scoffs and mutters, “I just fucked your brains out. You don’t even know what your own name is, much less what you like. You’ll think better of it later.” with that, now he does shrug you off, but he keeps his face partially hidden, trying to conceal the faint pink blush to his cheeks. “I gotta go. You know to clean up before you come out, right?” his eyeline falls to your ruined panties and the puddle of his spunk on the table. Iori would lose his mind if it left a stain, and the last thing Kanata needed was Zen on his ass. you make a face, scrunching your nose at his curt nature, even after doing something so intimate, but nod, and he heads out. you can swear, however, that you hear him murmur under his breath. “See you again… princess.”

[tired-biscuit]

18+ MDNI / fem!reader

I can't get over the thought of Obito's Sharingan activating and flashing red whenever he's really turned on.

Just these wide open, crimson eyes staring up at you while you ride his fat cock and squirm in his lap. Following your every move every time you slam your hips back down, down, down. Being so fucking perceptive that they send a chill tumbling down your spine and make every hair on the nape of your neck stand to attention. He can see every detail, every droplet of sweat.

It's thrilling.

His pupils are so big that they remind you of dinner plates. They dilate; swallowing up the iris gradually until you can nearly see your own naked reflection inside the two void-like circles whenever your gazes connect. With every panting, messy kiss he insists you share, you swear that you can see them grow even larger.

He grunts as your tongue tangles with his own. You're holding on for dear life whilst you suck it into your mouth; dainty hands clasped firmly around his broad shoulders as his own bigger ones find your hips. His grip is tenacious when it rests on your salt-riddled skin - harsh enough to make you bruise, albeit equally as loving whilst he helps you pick up the pace.

He's so strong. So full of life. You love him so fucking much.

"Gonna cum soon, darlin'. That, ah... That okay?" He's completely red in the face as he says it. His cheeks are tinted a vivid pink and his brow is covered in sweat when he pulls back to look at you better. Pop! - the thin strings of saliva that bridge your mouths together break as you eye his short midnight hair that frames his face perfectly. He's looking at you underneath his thick lashes now, clearly expectant for an answer.

And god-fucking-damn, his eyes are literally glowing now - they remind you of white-hot embers in the night. You feel like he's undressing your soul with them; exploring every nook and cranny of your very essence with his gaze alone. He's practically eye-fucking your wretched heart.

"Yeah... S'fine, mhmmm." The sight makes you gasp; makes your cunt tighten around his girth whenever he looks at you like that. You can barely speak as the kittenish moans begin to pour out of you like some lewd symphony only he has the pleasure of hearing. Looking so dazzled - nearly entranced - your lips part and your jaw turns slack when he blinks in slight surprise and the colour flashes even brighter.

"Fuck, Obi... Your eyes." Every breath is ragged as you inch towards release. You can't even think like a normal person anymore.

He's listening to the sounds of skin slapping against skin as he whispers, "What about 'em?"

"They're so, nnh..." It takes every last bit of effort to focus as you feel him begin to twitch and throb inside your belly at the mention of the Uchiha's specialty he's so proud to own. He's pounding into you now; ready to become undone at any moment as he waits for you to spill the words and the hot juices of pleasure at the same time. Perhaps your compliment might make him spill, too. It's definitely worth a try. "They're so fuckin' pretty. Just like you... My pretty boy."

You've always loved calling him pretty. Loved tracing the intricate scars that cover half of his face and body, telling him he's beautiful even if he doesn't think he is, as well as kissing every inch of him. He deserves all of the praise. Is worthy to feel so loved and adored. You see the way he frowns whenever he looks at himself in the mirror every morning, after all.

"I think you're prettier, though." He tilts his head to the side like an animal as he retaliates, still not used to such profound adoration whilst inspecting you even more thoroughly. He knows what you're trying to do with the doting words. He knows it well.

Your finger finds his lips. "Shh".

Long moments pass; each second filled with loud squelching noises and the squeaks you voice with each bounce on his dick. He's so engrossed in watching the little show you're putting on for him and the thin ring of creamy arousal to gather on his dick, that you can practically hear the amusement in his voice as he at long last muses, "See? You're so pretty... Especially when you're like this."

"Not fair." You pout. "Why can't you just accept my compliment?"

"Just 'cause." You catch the hint of a smirk that ghosts over his rosy lips at the sight of the little frown you portray at his lame reply.

Neither the smirk, nor the frown last for long, however. Both of your mouths are turning into the shape of little o's as you begin to chase your respective climaxes, because Obito hasn't stopped slamming into you not even for a second. You're about to break, judging from how intensely your legs are beginning to tremble from the toe-curling waves of pleasure to hit you repeatedly. And he doesn't seem to be far away from it either.

After all, it's not just the fucking that's this wild anymore; even the way he's looking at you has become purely bestial. Especially when he leans in to kiss you again and he burrows himself so deep inside your warm cunt that your mouth isn't the only thing he pecks.

"Tell you what, if you lemme see that cute face you make when you cum, I'll think about accepting the compliment," he whispers before his tongue strokes your bottom lip tenderly.

His eyes are drilling straight into you in the same fierce manner his hips are as he waits for your answer.

You can't do anything else but nod.

[foramomentonly]

4.02 Ficlet

Spoilers for 4.02

Read on AO3

This is sort of a reaction ficlet, but not a coda. @haloud and I were just casually freaking out about Sanders calling Alex pretty, and Sanders as protective dad, and Sanders’ “Alex ain’t shit” phase, and this little Lost Decade scene popped into my head. @christchex and @lambourngb and @arielana are also, no doubt, to blame.

Wow, it feels good to write to completion again lol.

As dawn burns a garish pink slash across the horizon, Walt sits in his office portable with a stack of receipts and watches the Manes boy sneak out of Michael's trailer, shaking his head. Manes is down the rickety steps of the Airstream and halfway across the dirt to his waiting Jeep before he pauses, eyes dark and gleaming even at a distance as he turns back towards the silver bullet.

"Come on, son," Walt mutters into his coffee cup. "You know you wanna stay."

The boy stands frozen for a long minute, one foot twisted behind him in flight, the other planted firmly forward. But then, like pieces of a Rubik’s Cube, his body turns away from the trailer in segments; hips, then shoulders, and finally his head, gaze lingering to the last moment on the dark interior visible through the small, papered window. He climbs into his car and drives away.

Walt sighs, dropping the papers in his hand back onto the clutter of his desk.

The kid'll be hell in cowboy boots today, that's for damn sure. Always is, after a visit from Alex Manes.

They're few and far between now Jesse Manes has his way and all four of his sons serve Uncle Sam. But no matter if the boy's in town a month or 24 hours, he finds his way to Michael's door like there's a magnet melted into the metal. And it always ends the same. Alex leaves, Michael stays, and the kid's heart breaks all over again.

Sometimes, Manes is gone while Michael’s still dead to the world, slipping away into the dark night or the brisk, early morning. Other times, they spill out of the trailer like dominoes, one after the other, angry, pleading voices carrying across the desert. Few years back, Michael all but chased Alex out the door, shirtless and barefoot, his sneakers gripped tight in one hand and his shirt draped over his shoulder. That memory's always a little too vivid for Walt's taste.

The glow of the Airstream's low light flickers on through the little window and Walt stands slowly as Michael's dark figure begins to shuffle around inside. He crosses the small office to the ancient coffee maker, pouring a new cup without bothering to refresh his own.

Walt used to wonder why Michael didn't kick Manes's ass to the curb. Sure, he's a good-looking kid. His features are pretty in a way his daddy no doubt hates; Jesse Manes mistakes beauty for weakness, even after his wife showed him the steel of her spine. Walt sees her most in Alex Manes, in the curve of his cheekbones and the dark depth of his eyes. And they damn well have chemistry, sounds like Walt has never heard before, he's sorry to admit, echoing through the thin walls of the trailer.

But Michael's got his own charm; sandy hair darker than Ms. Nora's, but his curls catch in the light same as hers, and his young body is lean and strong thanks to years of ranch work. He does more than all right with the women of Roswell when Alex isn't around.

He’s around eventually, though. He comes back. He always comes back. Manes inevitably stands at Michael's door and shifts his weight, flexing his muscles like he could even make his legs carry him away if he wanted them to. And Michael hems and haws, squints his golden eyes like he could look through Alex if he glared hard enough, like he could look away. And then he pushes the door wide open and Manes steps inside, and when it shuts behind them it stays that way for hours, all day, a weekend. 

The kids want to be together. Nothing's stopped them so far, and Walt's come to realize nothing probably ever will. Not even some damn self-preservation.

Michael bursts out of the trailer dripping wet and stormy-eyed, and Walt steps out to meet him, holding out the steaming mug of fresh coffee like an offering.

"We're backed up today, kid," he says instead of a greeting. "Drink fast."

Michael looks surprised, tries to cover it with a roll of his eyes.

"How long you been here, old man?" he asks, slurping the coffee greedily.

Up close, his eyes are shaded by dark circles.

"You get any shut eye?" Walt asks pointedly in lieu of a straight answer, raising a knowing brow, and Michael huffs, head rolling back in exasperation.

"Relax," Walt grunts, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'm not gonna tell you something you already know and don't wanna hear."

Michael tilts his head forward, nodding slowly and looking anywhere but Walt's face. He fights the urge to cup Michael's chin between his fingers, the ghost of a gesture Ms. Nora once used to still Walt's restless energy. But the kid's a grown man, and Walt's not his father, not for lack of trying. Instead, he squeezes Michael's shoulder.

"He'll be back," he says, and Michael's eyes fly to his, wide and shining with hope.

"That so?" Michael asks, and Walt nods, turning back towards the office as a classic truck rattles into the lot, the first of the day.

"If he knows what's good for you," Walt calls over his shoulder. "And I think he does."

[thatfanficstuff]

Summer Wedding - Stucky

Grouping - Stucky x Reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. smut including unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), public teasing, oral sex (m receiving), spit roasting, minor knife play and other stuff I'm sure I forgot.

A/N: This is the first fic I'm posting for my summer celebration and it was actually written for boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge. Not as um...descriptive as I'd intended on making it but I like it. Enjoy.

Word count: 3544

***

The wedding was beautiful, even you had to admit that. It was a relatively simple affair as these things went, though you were certain your uncle had spent several thousands on the flowers that seemed to dot every surface of the grounds of his estate. At least he’d kept your cousin from having a large church wedding this time. There was only so many times that was acceptable anyway, right?

A sigh slid from your lips and you sipped at your drink. You never should have come to this wedding. You weren’t in the mood for it. No, you should have made up an excuse about being sick and stayed home. The only reason you hadn’t was the fact you had no desire to listen to your mother bitch at you for the next six months for missing a family event. Just the thought had you rolling your eyes.

You’d actually been looking forward to the wedding until last week. That’s when you discovered your boyfriends were going on a mission and would not be back in time to accompany you. Not only did you hate going to weddings alone, but you’d already gone through the ordeal of explaining to your aunt why you need a plus two instead of a plus one. And she certainly hadn’t kept that information to herself. Half the damn day had been spent answering questions about your relationship from nosy family members.

Speaking of…Your cousin Natalie sat down in one of the empty chairs that flanked you. She smirked and sipped at her champagne. “So, where are your dates, Y/N?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. Too much more of that and you’d have a raging migraine. Instead, you kept your gaze on the dance floor and took another sip of your drink. “They had to work.”

“I just find it interesting that you all but beg mother for an extra seat and here they both are. Empty.” She eyed you, waiting for a reaction you had no intention of giving her. “I mean, why lie? It’s kind of pathetic.”

You finally turned your head to her. “Shouldn’t you be doing something wedding-ish? You are the maid of honor, aren’t you? Oh, that’s right, you aren’t in the wedding party, are you?” You sucked a breath through your teeth in mock sympathy. “Sorry.”

There was certain to be a reason why Natalie wasn’t part of her only sisters third wedding, but you didn’t care beyond the fact it was sure to be a sore spot. Frankly, Natalie had always been a bitch, even when you were children. Though, unlucky in the marriage department, her sister Sally had always been your preferred cousin. Maybe Sally had finally gotten tired of dealing with her sister’s shit.

Natalie narrowed her eyes and leaned toward you. “I don’t believe you could get one man to put up with you, let alone two. No one does. We actually had a pool going over whether either of them would show up. And if they did, whether they’d leave with you since you’d probably paid them to be here. I mean, most people just make up one boyfriend. Two really takes the cake. You never could stand not being the center of attention.”

The irony wasn’t lost you that most of your family had no idea you worked with the Avengers. Nor had you mentioned the names of those two boyfriends of yours. Real attention seeker you were. You chanced a glance at your phone to check the time. You had at least another hour before you could leave without a lecture from your mother. You also had zero messages from your boys. Hopefully, that meant they were taking care of business and would be home soon.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” your cousin started whisper yelling from beside you as she froze in her chair. Her eyes were wide and slightly crazed.

Your brow furrowed. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Even as you waited for an answer, your trained ear picked up murmurs beginning amongst the other guests.

When you went to look over your shoulder, Natalie gripped your hand. “Don’t turn around,” she said through clenched teeth. When you went to do it anyway, she snapped again. “Don’t. They’ll see you staring.”

“Who?” Your tone was clipped as irritation crawled through you.

“Steve Rogers and James Barnes just walked in,” she hissed, her gaze locked on them. So apparently she was allowed to stare but you weren’t. By this point, everyone else would be staring as well. The boys were used to it.

You snatched your hand away from your cousin and spun in your seat. As soon as you saw them, a smile covered your face. They had been so certain they wouldn’t be back in time. You knew they’d pushed themselves to be here for you. You ran your gaze over them, taking in the rare sight of them in suits. Even though you’d helped them pick them out, you still licked your lips at the sight.

Steve wore a beautiful bright blue suit that you knew brought out his eyes even though they were currently hidden behind sunglasses. Buck’s suit looked light blue but it was actually a thin blue pin stripe. Both of them looked incredible as always, but you always got a little thrill seeing them dressed up. Of course, that feeling was mutual.

They hadn’t seen you yet, but they were scanning the crowd as they moved across the vast grounds of your uncle’s estate. When your uncle moved to greet them, you stood as well.

Natalie grabbed at your arm. “What are you doing? You’re going to embarrass me.”

Yeah, she didn’t need any help with that. You shook her off and started toward your men. Both of them immediately locked onto your presence and wide smiles greeted you. Your uncle got to them before you could. Steve shifted his attention to speak with him, but Buck’s attention was 100% on you. His gaze trailed over you from head to toe and his eyes darkened.

“We’re extremely honored that you’re here. How did you hear about the wedding?” you heard your uncle ask. He was one of the politer members of your family.

“They’re with me, Uncle Frank,” you said as soon as you were close enough to be heard without raising your voice. “Sorry they’re late. They were working.”

Frank turned to you, his mouth slightly agape and his brows lifted. “These are the dates Margie wouldn’t stop going on about?” Margie was his wife and the aunt you had to beg for the extra seat.

You hummed in agreement.

“Well, I certainly hope so or this is going to turn awkward in a moment,” Bucky said with a lopsided grin. He opened his arms in invitation and you stepped into them. “Missed you, doll.”

You nuzzled against his chest briefly, careful not to transfer your makeup to his shirt. “I missed you, too. So much. I’m glad you’re home.”

There was a tug on your arm and you were pulled into Steve’s embrace. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, soldier.” You turned to look at your uncle who was still staring in stunned silence. “Steve, Bucky, this is my Uncle Frank. Father of the bride.”

Both of your boys shook his hand and thanked him for allowing them to come. He hurried back to his table, undoubtedly to announce this strange turn of events. You fell into step with your boyfriends, taking their hands in yours while you walked in the middle. You led them over to your table to find Natalie still in Bucky’s seat.

“Natalie,” you said to get her attention. When she continued to gape at the two men you said her name again.

She smiled at you as if you were her favorite person in the world certain there was an introduction in her future. “Yes, cousin?”

“You’re in his seat.”

She blinked at you for a second before her face twisted in anger. She scrambled from the chair and stormed back to her table with a toss of her head. Steve and Buck chuckled as they took their seats on either side of you. They slid their chairs as close to you as they could get. “Are you two hungry? We already had dinner but I could find you something.”

Bucky squeezed your thigh. “We ate. Don’t worry about us, sweetheart.”

“I’m glad you two made it,” your mother’s voice caught your attention and you turned to find her standing next to Steve. He stood to greet her and you leaned against Bucky, knowing he wouldn’t care to do the same. “If I had to listen to one more person say she made you up I was going to scream,” she admitted as she hugged Steve. That earned another low chuckle from Bucky.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s good to see you again,” Steve said, managing to sound sincere. Not that he disliked your mother, but they’d just returned from a mission. All they wanted to do was stay home for a couple of days and destress. But they’d come here for you and they would be on their best behavior.

“We won’t be staying long, mom. They just got home,” you informed her and braced yourself for an argument.

Instead, she nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. Just make sure to introduce them to Sally before you leave.”

You groaned. “Can’t I just do it at her next wedding?”

“Y/N!” she snapped but you caught the twitch at the corner of her lips.

Bucky snorted a laugh beside you while Steve shot you a chastising look. You smiled. “I will, momma.”

She left and Bucky turned to speak in your ear as Steve sat back down. “We don’t have to leave, baby girl.” The nickname shot a thrill up your spine. “I love weddings. The food. The dancing. The clothes. Like this little number you have on. I really love this dress, doll.” You wore a white sundress with tiny blue flowers on it to match their suits that fell a few inches above your knees. It was the first time either of them had seen it.

Steve’s arm settled across the back of your chair and his fingers played with your hair. “Yeah, that dress is something special. It might be a bit too short, though,” he said without glancing at you. Instead, he seemed to be keeping an eye on the crowd around you.

“It’s not too short.” You loved the dress and thought it was perfect.

“Yeah, Stevie. If anything, it’s not short enough.” Bucky’s fingers dragged your dress up your thigh, bunching it up in his hand as he went.

“What are you doing, Barnes?” you hissed.

“I told you I missed you, doll. I want to show you how much.”

You placed a hand on his, stopping his movement. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course, we are. We talked about it all the way home,” Steve answered. He lowered his mouth to speak in your ear. “Talked about how we wanted to please you in front of everyone. With everyone watching because you know their eyes are glued to our table trying to figure out how we managed to land a beautiful gal like you.”

You snorted a laugh that cut off in a gasp as Bucky pulled your dress further up your thigh. “I don’t think that’s what they’re thinking, Steve.”

Bucky kissed the patch of skin behind your ear. “How come he gets Steve and I got Barnes?”

“He’s not the one actively trying to feel me up at my cousin’s wedding.” Your eyes slipped closed as his fingers brushed your inner thigh. Sweat beaded your skin and you wondered if you could blame it on the heat even though it was ten degrees cooler than it had been earlier.

“But it was all his idea,” Buck whispered.

Your eyes flew open to shoot a glare at the blond’s head. “Steven Grant Rogers, What would your mother say?”

Buck laughed, drawing the attention of some of the few people that weren’t already staring. “She’d probably say, ‘good going, Stevie’. She would have loved you.”

“Would—” All ability to finish your sentence or to have a rational thought fled from you when he pushed your panties aside and ran his fingers through your folds. Fuck.

“She’s already soaking wet for us, Steve. Such a good girl,” Bucky cooed.

Steve’s hand fisted on the back of your chair as he glanced around again. “I was wrong. I don’t have the patience for this. I need to be buried in her.” He slid his sunglasses off and put them in the inside pocket of his jacket. He turned to face you, blue eyes burning into you. “You have exactly two minutes to find us someplace private or we’re going to finger fuck you right here until you scream. Your choice, princess.”

In less than a minute, you’d sent a text on your phone and jumped to your feet. Taking their hands in yours, you dragged them toward the house. You pulled them through the large home until you reached a familiar door on the main level. Opening it, you shoved the super soldiers inside. You locked the door behind you and turned to find them already loosening their ties.

“We don’t have time for that,” you argued with a wave of your hands. “I told Uncle Frank we were borrowing his office for an important phone call. We have twenty minutes tops.”

Bucky groaned. “I wanted to take my time with you. I missed you,” he nearly whined.

The corner of your mouth kicked up. “We can take all the time you want later, baby. Right now, just fuck me.” That had him groaning again, an entirely different sound this time.

Steve, however, wasn’t wasting any time. He grabbed a cushion from the couch and tossed it on the floor. “All fours, princess.” He was already undoing his belt by the time you dropped to your knees. He moved behind you and pushed your dress up to give himself a clear view of your ass. He ran his hand over it before giving you a light swat. The mild sting was still enough to have you shifting.

“These have got to go,” he said tugging on the side of your panties. “Buck?”

You glanced up to see Bucky grin as he pulled out a knife and handed it to Steve. He traced your spine with the back of the blade causing you to hiss and arch your back. The sensation only doubled when he moved from cloth to bare skin. The cold steel on your flesh sent tremors through you but you weren’t scared. Far from it. “I think she likes that, Stevie,” Bucky said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “We’ll have to remember that.”

Steve merely hummed before slicing through both sides of your panties and pulling them off as he handed the knife back to his friend. His hand immediately cupped you and his fingers dipped into your soaking wet folds. “Christ, Y/N. I hope you’re ready for me, baby.”

The head of his cock nudged your entrance as if asking for permission but that only lasted a moment. A second later, Steve surged forward filling you with his length. You moaned at the familiar sensation and clawed at the carpet. He paused, giving you time to adjust then he was thrusting into you in long, slow strokes. “Don’t tease,” you ordered.

Steve laughed and increased his speed. When you groaned, Bucky was there rubbing the tip of his cock across your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked at him greedily, needing to taste him while Steve railed you from behind. Only when you had both of them inside of you did you feel complete. Whole. Whatever the fuck was wrong with you, you hoped there was no cure. You would gladly die like this.

The feeling of both of them moving in and out had a perfectly sinful, wanton moan coming from you. The vibration ran along the length of Bucky’s cock and he grunted. His fingers tightened their hold in your hair and his speed increased. Steve mirrored his pace and it didn’t take long for the office to fill with lurid grunts and the sweaty, sweet smell of sex.

Soon, you were so lost in sensation you became little more than a vessel for them to use as you climbed to your peak. Their rhythm stuttered and you knew they were close. You clenched your walls around Steve and were rewarded with a hiss and his grip on your hips tightening. At the same time, you sucked harder on Bucky and ran your tongue along the underside of his cock. “Fuck,” he bit out. “I’m close. Cum, baby girl. Come on.”

Steve’s fingers found your clit. Two seconds later you were screaming around the cock in your mouth as your cunt clutched greedily at the one in your pussy. Fuck. Bucky came next, his load shooting into your mouth and down your throat. As you swallowed his offering, Steve filled you with his cum. You felt it leak around him and drip to the floor.

They pulled out of you at the same time and you collapsed to your side. “Holy shit,” you said between pants causing your boys to laugh.

“Holy shit’s right. Damn,” Bucky agreed. Your eyes followed his movements as he tucked himself back into his pants and put himself to rights. Before you could turn to Steve, you felt fabric between your legs cleaning you up.

A glance showed him wiping away his cum with the remnants of your panties. He gave you a wicked grin. “Can’t have you leaking all over your cousin’s wedding, now can we?”

Your face heated as you thought about all the times they’d made you walk around with their cum leaking out of you. Apparently, that wasn’t appropriate for a wedding but was fine everywhere else. Steve stood and pulled his pants up before doing up his belt. He held out a hand to you. “Let’s get you fixed up, sweetheart.”

They’d barely done anything and looked like they had when you walked into the room. You, on the other hand, probably looked like you’d gone a couple of rounds with a rabid raccoon. Stupid men. Steve made sure your dress was laying correctly so everything was covered while Bucky did the same thing behind you. They both fiddled with your hair for a moment before declaring you gorgeous.

You narrowed your gaze at them, not buying it for a moment. The three of you quickly put the office to rights. There was nothing you could do about the smell of sex in the air but hopefully it would dissipate before your uncle needed to use it.

“Seriously, baby girl. You look fantastic,” Buck insisted when he noticed you fidgeting.

“Yeah, but you guys like it when I look freshly fucked,” you said as you opened the door. There was a mirror in the hallway you used to check your appearance. You actually didn’t look that bad, but you definitely looked a little wild. You shrugged. Honestly, you didn’t care. “All right, we’re saying hello to the bride, then we’re leaving.”

“No argument here.” Steve took your hand in his and Buck did the same thing on the other side.

When the three of you made it outside, you headed straight for the head table. “Sally, this is Steve and Bucky. Boys, this is my cousin Sally and her new husband Ben.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Steve greeted with a smile. Sally launched herself at him and wrapped him in a hug.

“I can’t believe you came to my wedding,” she squealed before letting go of him to hug Bucky. His eyes begged you to help him but you just smiled. Sally was a bit flighty but she was good people.

She hugged you last. “You should have told me, Y/N. I would have sat you closer to the front.”

“It’s okay, Sally. We have to go. Congratulations,” you said then let her go. When you did, you found that most of the family had come to get introductions or say their farewells. Nicole tried to go in for a hug, but Steve subtly made sure it was nothing more than a handshake. The fact you didn’t introduce her was enough to tell them she wasn’t the kind of person they wanted to know.

When she tried to hug Bucky, you intercepted and hugged her instead. “It was good seeing you, Nicole.”

“You have some explaining to do,” she said in a low voice as she hugged you tighter than necessary. When she released you, she continued to stand by you.

You watched Bucky and Steve say goodbye to your mother and uncle before they turned to you. You held up a finger to tell them you’d be right with them and leaned sideways to get closer to your cousin. “So, just out of curiosity, did anyone in the pool have them fucking me during the reception?”

[bruhstories]

switch

summary: you and yuji have been together for three years now, but on your anniversary night, you allow your own demons to come to the surface. pairing: ryomen sukuna x female!reader (itadori yuji x female!reader, too, i guess?) | aged up characters word count: 3.5k warning & content: cheating?? (is it cheating if it's technically the same body?), unprotected sex, creampie, slight dacryphillia, vaginal fingering, blackmail, reader is kind of an asshole? (can you blame her tho, sukuna is such a daddy ugh), bit of overstimulation, slight dumbification (if you squint)

a/n: i'm back, and i can tell my writing skill is getting rusty. i took a break and it's obvious with this fic, but i need to get my head back in the game. it is what it is.

Yuji was a great boyfriend. In all honesty, he was every woman and man's dream — funny, charming, attentive and, most importantly, caring. He cared about you so much that he always made sure to control his own personal demon. You knew about Sukuna, Yuji told you after a few dates, and you were well versed in Jujutsu Sorcery, enough to know that he was not someone you could mess with. But you didn't want to give up on Yuji, and stuck with him through thick and thin. After almost three years of the beautiful and fun relationship you two had, he asked you to move in with him since you were both adults now, and you gladly accepted, because after so much time, you came to love him, despite seeing Sukuna's outbursts during fights. That thing, that monster, was beyond terrifying, but you trusted Yuji with all your heart, and that was all that mattered.

Or maybe you were unhinged, maybe you wanted Sukuna to come to the surface. Maybe, deep down in your heart, you fell in love with the switch, with the raging, brutal frenzies that you happened to witness on the rare occasions when Yuji couldn’t control the King of Curses. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer, because, as opposed to your optimistic and good-natured boyfriend, you never hesitate to kill – human or curse. Sometimes it felt as if your curiosity surpassed your love for Yuji, and that was a horrendous thought. Surely, that can’t be the real you, right?

Today is your three-year anniversary, and naturally, you want to surprise your boyfriend, so when you come home from a mission, you stop by his favourite ramen restaurant, picking up something to eat, maybe even some dessert. You tiptoe inside when you notice Yuji napping on the couch, and after silently setting up the table, careful not to wake him up, you quickly change into something... nicer. Yuji doesn't really enjoy it when you show some skin, which sucks because you want him to show you off. Nevertheless, you respect him, but tonight is special, surely it wouldn't hurt if you wear a shorter skirt. And a low-cut blouse. And heels. Fuck it, you think, adding a pair of thigh high socks as well, maybe that would rile him up. As much as you loved him, Yuji was too gentle. You liked that about him, truly, but sometimes you just need him to give you a good fuck, which was impossible, no matter how much you begged him to do it. You watch your reflection in the mirror from head to toe, proud of your skimpy outfit, but you can't help but wonder if he might be upset at your choice of attire. Even if he prefers it when you're dressed in pastels, that's not you, the real you. "You look good enough to eat." Yuji's voice breaks your trance and you turn on your heels to look at him. He stands in the doorway of the bedroom, arms folded across his chest, but there's a strange aura around him, and you can't exactly see his face through the dim lights. "You like it?" Your ears perk up, happy that he's not bothered by the clothes. "I do. You should dress like that more often." He sneers, stepping closer to you. "Alright, what kind of prank are you pulling now, Yuji? You never liked these kinds of clothes." You lower your head, your luscious lips turning into a pout. His calloused fingertips grip your chin, turning your head to face the mirror, and that's when you see the black markings on his face. Fear paralyses your entire body, eyes widening in panic and anxiety. "He might not like them, but I do." His voice is lower than Yuji's, calm yet obscenely dangerous. "I- you-" The words get caught in your throat, and you can't take your eyes off of his reflection. You know for a fact there's absolutely nothing you can do to defend yourself from Sukuna without hurting Yuji, and that thought makes you feel incredibly small and downright pathetic. "Little lamb, do you have any idea how hard it's been for me to watch this ungrateful brat take you for granted?" His hand is still leaving imprints on your chin and cheek, the other travelling down your back. "To watch you lose yourself for him, of all people?" "You don't know me!" Lips open without a thought, and you regret every syllable that came out of your mouth. "Oh, but I do." Yuji, no, Sukuna sneers, that same hand that was once on your back is now on your abdomen, painstakingly slowly creeping under your blouse. "Everything he sees, I see. Everything he smells, I smell. What he hears, I hear. But I just couldn't touch what's mine. Until now." You feel him pinching your nipple, and you're ashamed to admit how good his skin feels against yours, his hot breath fanning over your nape. "'M not yours." You grit your teeth, manicured fingernails digging into the plush of your thighs to keep your composure. "There's one thing I can smell that he can't. Wanna know what that is, sweet dove?" He whispers in your ear, and it's dotting your skin with goosebumps. "Enlighten me." "Your arousal." "You're bluffing." Is all you manage to say before Sukuna spins you around, pinning you against the mirror. "Let's see, shall we? I bet you're dripping," he shoves one of your legs to the side with his knee, and you don't stop him, "I bet you you've fantasised about this, late at night, when this brat can't please you. He's well endowed, though, it's a shame he can't use his dick." "S-stop it, please. I love him." "Pardon me if I doubt that." "Please, sir..." Sir? How should you call him? Demon? Cursed spirit? Monster? "How about master?" Sukuna barks back, as if reading your mind sarcasm dripping

down his tongue. You can't stifle a moan when his teeth sink in the crook of your neck, and you know damn well that you want this, and that every word he uttered so far was correct. You have thought about Yuji switching with Sukuna, wondered how he would fuck you, make you chant his name, but you never told your boyfriend, you couldn't. It's sinful, disgraceful and disgusting. Instinctively, you grind up his thigh, tears of shame and lust pooling at your eyes when you slowly give in to the temptation. He's already bruised your skin, one hand toying with your tits, the other lifting your skirt up. It's too late to fight him, because you never wanted to fight him in the first place. You deepest, darkest wish is finally coming to life. "That's better." Sukuna licks his lips, and your half-lidded, glossy eyes land on his tongue. "Please, m-may I kiss you?" Eyes dart away, cheeks burning with desire and embarrassment. "How polite of you to ask." He coos at you mockingly, his face inching closer to yours before absolutely crushing your lips under his. You don't hesitate to partly open your mouth, allowing his tongue to slip between your lips. Fuck, he kisses you so good that your knees give in, and all you can think is that if he's such a good kisser, he's definitely going to fuck you dumb. And you want that more than anything. When he pulls away, you lick your lips, still tasting him on your tongue, and he tastes so much better than Yuji — sweet and addictive. "I really wanted to take my time with you, after all, I waited three long years for this. But you're such an eager little slut, aren't you?" "I'm n-not a slut-" You try to protest, but you can't fool him, especially not when he's pushing your panties to the side, fingers grazing over your slit. "You are a slut. You merely buried that side of you for a pathetic little boy who can't handle a real woman." Sukuna's index finger gently brushes against your clit, enough to have you weak and needy. "Don't worry, Y/N, you don't have to hide from me. You can show me what you really want." It hurts to know that Yuji probably sees and hears everything, that he will probably break up with you after this, but you're too far gone to care about his feelings when finally someone is paying attention to yours. Your hand travels up his thigh, palming his already hard cock, and the way he groans, throwing his head back is satisfying enough for you. It hurts to think that Yuji never appreciates this side of you, and it's more painful when you consider this to be cheating — it's still his body, technically, but it's not your loving boyfriend, and you're perfectly fine with that. He slips a finger between your folds, a quiet moan escaping your lips, and Sukuna knows you won't dare say no to him, or try to reason with him. He adds another finger, but he absolutely does not move them an inch, instead you automatically fuck yourself on his hand, gripping one of his shoulders for support. "That's a good whore." Sukuna praises you, tongue lapping at your collarbone, making you delirious with lust. "You want my cock? Want me to fuck your aching cunt?" It's impossible to refuse his proposition, instead you buck your hips, your fingers gripping his t-shirt and you know you might tear it if you keep this up. "Yes..." You answer him, voice soft and quiet. "Yes what?" "P-please... Yes, please!" "Much better. Get on the bed." Sukuna commands and you obey, skirt dangerously hiked up. You proceed to take it off, but he slaps your hands away, too impatient for such formalities. He did wait a long time for this, you understand that, and so you lay on your back, blouse unbuttoned, panties on the floor and legs wide open for him to take you. Oh, and he adores this sight, how you willingly give yourself to him, your dainty fingers spreading your juices around your cunt, eager to be filled. In those three years of being with Yuji, you got used to his cock, but seeing it now seems like it's the first time. Precum leaks from the blushing tip and your mouth begins to water just by looking at him, and

this pleases Sukuna greatly. "Tell me what you want." He climbs on top of you, hands resting next to you as your fingernails graze over his chest. "I don't wanna say it..." You avert your gaze, a crumb of dignity left in you because you know Yuji hears everything. "Oh, you don't?" He quirks a brow, brown irises bearing a hint of red. "Then you won't mind me killing the brat." This garners your attention, and you feel stupid because of course he would blackmail you. Do you care? No. Do you want Yuji to think you care? Yes. "Please don't hurt him." You look back at Sukuna, tears pricking your eyes. "Why shouldn't I? We both know he doesn't deserve you." "You're wrong, I love-" "This isn't about you loving him, it's about you renouncing your true nature." His hand finds its way on your neck, fingers wrapping around it. "How many times have you begged him to choke you and he refused? How many times did you ask him to fuck you harder and he said no? You're a filthy slut, Y/N, and it's time you got what you deserve." The lack of air has your pussy clenching around nothing, and you hate him so much for being right. Yuji could never give you what you want, but Sukuna can, and it's an opportunity you can't pass. "Now, I'll say this one last time — tell me what you want." He releases the grip on your neck. "Y-you! I want you to fuck me, please, fuck me good, make me yours!" The tears that roll down your cheeks ruin your makeup, mascara mixed with eyeshadow smeared under your eyes. The tip of his cock pushes past your folds, and inch by inch he bottoms out. It feels bigger than before, stretching you open in a beautiful blend of pain and pleasure, your lips forming an O as your eyes roll back. "He doesn't deserve your tears. But I do. Cry for me." Sukuna sneers, his broad frame hovering above you and you feel so small and vulnerable. Yet again you obey, allowing more salty droplets to run down your face as you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling him go deeper. "Fuck, 's big! Oh, god-" Sukuna's palm meets your cheek, a sharp, stinging pain bringing your eyes on him. "Focus, whore. Not god, not the brat, me." He grunts, hips rocking back and forth harder and faster. "Who do you belong to?" You don't want to say it, what would Yuji think of you? He's probably already disgusted, contemplating breaking up with you once he regains control of his body. Another slap pulls you out of your thoughts and you buck your hips against his. "Answer me." "I b-belong to you! You!" "That's right, you're mine. Don't worry your pretty head, little lamb, Yuji won't be coming back any time soon." He grunts with every thrust, and his reassurance is somewhat comforting, because, god, he fucks you so good, you would kill for another opportunity like this. His teeth sink into your shoulder, fingers bruising your skin and you're delighted that he's marking you. All that matters is that you're his, chanting his name over and over again, praying to your new god, and Sukuna is beyond pleased with his work of art. When he pulls out of you, you almost cry, because it feels like a part of you is missing, but he's a merciful god, he won't let his newly devoted subject famished. Flipping you over as if you're made of feathers, he thrusts back into your aching cunt, and you yelp at the feeling of being overpowered by him. Sukuna's stamina is off the charts, because while your legs begin to feel numb, he's fucking into you with such force and intensity that the damn bed slides on the floor. It's raw, the way he's defiling your cunt, and it's sending your brain into overdrive. Your spongy walls clench around his cock, and while he doesn't say anything, the simple fact that he's going deeper and harder makes you feel special. Squirming and thrashing under him, you're desperate for some form of validation, and so you lift your ass up, pushing it back against his hips with a delightful moan escaping your lips. Sukuna takes notice of your sudden change of posture, and the way you curve your spine to try and get a look at him is adorable. "You want something,

pet?" He barely spares you a glance, and his indifference makes your pussy flutter. Your incoherent sentence almost makes him laugh, words such as good and please distinguishable between the other stutters. "Use your fucking words." A slap over your firm ass makes you yelp and jolt up. "A-am I good enough f-for you?" The question takes him by surprise, but he doesn't stop to think. Instead, he digs his sharp talons into the plush of your hips, overjoyed by your eagerness to please him. "You could do better." Sukuna teases you, but you take it personally, sadness and determination coiling inside of your heart. By this point, you don't even remember your boyfriend's name, too high on pleasure to even care. "'M sorry! P-please, I wanna be good!" You throw your head back and he wraps an arm around your neck, pressing his chest against your back. "If you wanna make me happy, you best forget about Itadori." "W-who?" "Your– never mind." Sharp canines flashed in his smirk, Sukuna tilts your head enough for you to catch a glimpse of his eyes. They're dark and vicious, and any sane person would be repulsed by them, but not you. No, you drown in them, completely absorbed by the hatred hiding behind them. The more you stare into his orbs, the closer you are to your climax. And he knows it. "Fuck fuck fuck!" "That's right, little lamb, let go of all that is moral and human." "Don't stop- oh, god, please don't s-stop!" In your frenzy, in his frantic pace, Sukuna's close, too. It would have taken any other woman hours to please him due to his insatiable nature, but you — your cunt clenching around his cock for dear life milks him dry, and inch by inch he pulls out, watching the hot liquid dripping down your trembling thighs. Art, he thinks, this is what art is — your face buried in the pillows, ass up, and his seed spilling out of your sore cunt. You come down from your haze, slowly but surely, and the realisation of what just happened begins to hit you. You want to regret everything, to feel a shred of shame, but there isn't any left. After this night, Sukuna irrevocably owns you, and you wouldn't have it any other way. He lays on the bed, lazily watching you stumble in the bathroom to clean yourself up, but with his guard up in case you want to try anything stupid. Yet when you don't come back, Sukuna wonders if you ran away out the window, which makes him laugh to himself because he could find you anywhere if he wanted to. So, he drags his feet across the room, finding you on the edge of the bathtub, watching the water pool inside with a blank stare. When you feel his presence, you get up and tug at the hem of his shirt. The man flinches, until he remembers that you are harmless and exhausted, and you don't look like you even want to put up a fight, so he allows you to take his shirt off. "Is this for me?" He points at the tub, brow quirked and a mischievous smile on his lips. "Yes." "Are you gonna clean me up?" "Yes." You sigh, wondering if you truly ever loved Yuji, wondering why you didn't even try to fight for him. "Do you want your boyfriend back?" Oh, how you dreaded this question. You cringe at the words, and don't reply. Silence is also an answer, but he's cruel. "I need to hear it." "He will also hear it." Of course he will, that's the whole point of humiliation. Sukuna steps in the tub, dipping himself in the hot water, a hand extended towards you. "Join me." You hesitate to take his hand, lips pursed and eyes narrowed at the man who looks so serene that it amazes you how brutal he was before. "I won't ask again." Complying, and not wanting to anger him, you don't waste another moment to get in the tub, back against his chest. "Can I ask you a question?" "You just did, sweet dove." "Fine, I’ll shut up." "Now, now, don't give me that attitude, or else I'll have to put you in your place. And you won't like it." His nails are pressed onto your jugular, and you know those things can cut, your hips are still bleeding. "Ask away." He lets his hands fall on your shoulders and you exhale the breath that was caught in your

throat. "Why didn't you kill me? Why don't you kill me?" "I need a pet." "Oh." Your disappointment makes Sukuna burst into laughter. What did you expect? A confession of love? "Oh?" He mocks you, tracing circles on your skin with his talons. "Don't worry, I take good care of my pets. Especially if they're loyal and obedient." His hands travel down your body, one pulling your knee to the side, the other moving up your thigh. "You are loyal and obedient, yes?" "Please, no more-" The rest of the sentence dies before you can utter it when his fingers ghost over your swollen clit. "Answer me, Y/N." "I can't come again!" "You can, and you will, because I want you to. Now answer the fucking question." Sukuna toys with you, only pushing his index finger one knuckle deep between your folds before pulling it out, and somehow you can't feel the sharpness of his nails. "Will you serve and obey me, not once questioning my authority?" He pushes the finger back in, curling it upwards and you don't fail to clench your walls once more. "Oh, f-fuck, I will, I will! But please, I can't–" When he rubs your clit, you are done for. You didn't think you could reach another climax, but those circles he's rubbing with enough pressure to both give you pleasure and pain have you melting in his arms. "Swear it, then. Make a pact with me. I can give you anything in return, maybe even the brat." "I s-swear it, S-Sukuna! I swear my loyalty to you!" You hiss between your gritted teeth, hips rolling in synchronicity with his hand. "And in return, what do you want?" "I want you! Oh, god, I only want you!" "Clever girl." The man decides to give you what you want, and with a quickened pace, you squeeze your thighs together, coming undone on his fingers. "I'm going to enjoy your company." Embracing your true nature is your salvation, and damnation. Your boyfriend is never coming back, Sukuna simply won't allow it, and from this moment on, your memories of Yuji begin to fade away, like a bad dream, because you simply must serve your beloved master, your merciful and devastatingly powerful god. That's who you really are.

[djarrex]

Yes! I would love to read the Kix taking care of his girl on her period! Mine is kicking my ass this month. Sounds wonderful!

BLESS you, and the few others who hopped in on this <3 ( x )

Part 2

Let me start off by promoting menstrual cups for a hot second because I love mine and I will never go back to anything else. I bring that up because the reader uses a menstrual cup - you’ll see mentions of it a couple times throughout. There’s also a mention of it smelling sweet, lacking the smell of blood that one would normally associate with periods - this is a total personal observation BUT I have heard of other women say the same thing about the smell; it smells of you, not blood - womanly essence, if that makes sense. Idk, maybe if you also use a menstrual cup then you get what I’m trying to say? Sorry to be talking about menstrual cups so much LMAO I’m just passionate.

Warnings: oral (f receiving), no-no words, a hint of self-degradation and self-consciousness (because periods can do that to even the best of us), mentions of blood, but like, there is none

18+ under the cut for all my Kix lovin’ cycle sisters out there (and everyone else!)

Oh, Kix. Sweet, caring, sensual Kix.

***

"Let me take care of you, darling. "

“But... it’s gross. I don’t even like going near that area during this time a month and I definitely don’t want you to.”

“Gross?” He almost sounds... offended - flabbergasted. “It’s a part of life, beautiful. It’s what makes you amazing, a warrior in your own way. Nothing about you could gross me out. You know of some of the things I’ve seen, darling, and you could never come close to any of it.”

“Are- are you sure, Kix?”

“You have that little cup thing in, right?” He asks as he lowers himself to his knees to be eye level with your waist, hooking his thumbs inside the band of your comfy pants - waiting. You nod, catching your bottom lip between your teeth as you peer down at him with hesitant eyes. His own eyes are glowing, radiating with adoration as a smile stretches along his perfect lips. 

“Nothing about you could gross me out.”

Fuck, you adore him.

Even if he’s wrong. 

With a victorious hum, he yanks your stretchy bottoms down in one swift motion. Kix stands upright, tugging on the hem of your top before lifting it over your head, your arms raising to the ceiling to facilitate the process. You’re nearly bare - all that’s left is your stained, worn bra and loose cotton underwear. Nothing about you today looks or feels sexy, yet Kix stares at you like you’re holding the stars themselves within your swollen hands.

“Lay down, darling. Won’t you let me take care of you?” You can’t help but smile at the man before you, his soft but deep voice making your heart pound and pussy throb simultaneously. You lay back, respectfully doing as your told. As soon as your back hits the sheets he’s on you, his warm body looming over your bloated form as his lips find a temporary home against your clavicle. You’re already so sensitive, so aroused just from the faintest of touches. You groan as Kix licks and kisses his way across the expanse of whatever skin is available to him on your chest - he stops when all that’s left to be mouthed is still hiding underneath your bra.

“They’re a little sore,” you confess with a furrowed brow. Kix’s eyes meet yours, and you somehow know exactly what he wants to do to help.

“I’ll massage them for you,” his voice is full of sincerity and care as his eyes meet yours. You nod, lifting your top half up off the sheets for a moment so he can reach around and unclasp your bra. Your breasts swing free, and Kix’s hands are instantly but gingerly grasping at them, softly kneading the orbs of combined fat and tissue with expert hands. Kix’s objective is to make you feel good, both in forgetting your body’s reactions to your monthly, and in pleasure. While he continues to knead at your sensitive breasts, his mouth is back on you, nipping at the plushier parts of your flesh around your bust and torso. Your pussy is throbbing, a fire igniting deep within your gut - even pushing aside the cramping - screaming for more. 

“K...ix,” you manage his name mid-moan, his eyes flickering back up to yours through his dark lashes - mouth still attached to the flushed skin below your breast. “More... please,” you whine, your back arching off the bed and pushing yourself into his mouth - hungry. With a final nip to the skin lining your ribs, Kix’s head lifts up and offers you a half smile.

“You’ll let me take care of you, darling? Even though you so wrongfully think that I’ll be grossed out?” There’s a hint of teasing in his gravelly voice, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. 

“Yes,” you breathe out, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to feed the growing ache between your legs.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Kix lowers himself towards the foot of the bed, resting his cheek on the meat of your thigh while staring up at you with pleading eyes. Of course you do, and he knows that. You whimper at him, nodding your head as his finger teases along the thin skin around your underwear - featherlight. “I promise, it’ll feel good,” he murmurs with his lips pressed to your skin, trailing kisses from your knee up to your hip bone. “I’ll make you forget that you’re on your period, darling.”

Kix softly tugs your underwear down, tossing the garment over his shoulder to be found later. You feel so bleh - bloated, sensitive, sore - yet you’re on fire. Kix takes a moment to rove his eyes over your body, making you shudder under his gaze. 

“You’re so beautiful, darling. Even when you think you aren’t.” 

You love him you love him you love him.

Only seconds later Kix’s face in between your legs, kissing your mound before moving to press his lips against your folds. You feel totally embarrassed, hoping you don’t stink or taste like blood, but Kix is adamant about doing this for you, or for himself, it doesn’t matter. What if you ruin what you and Kix have if he comes up disgusted by your vagina with the way is is right now? What if-

Nope, you can’t finish that thought because he’s in the middle of licking a slow, long stripe from the bottom of your slit all the way up to the hood of your clit with a flattened tongue. Kix repeats the motion a few more times, groaning into you with every pass of his tongue, sending euphoric vibrations straight into your core. He runs his tongue around the entrance of your burning hole, easing the muscle just a little bit beyond the entrance - making you see stars. Kix can’t actually stick anything inside of you, not his tongue nor his fingers, and most definitely not his cock unless you removed the silicone cup from your canal - and there was no fucking way in hell you’d do that, especially not on day two. Besides, he’s doing quite the fine job at making you come apart with the way he’s sucking, licking, and nipping at everything that is good. 

“Fuck, Kix...” He’s got your clit trapped between his lips, his tongue flicking at it from inside his warm mouth. You’re close, you can feel that fire move throughout your body, inching further and further into your climax with every quick motion of his tongue. 

Then his hands return to your breasts, squeezing gently while meeting your eyes from where he’s buried between your legs. The thread within you snaps when you lock eyes with his lust-filled golden ones; his hands grabbing at your breasts, his mouth latched onto that sensitive bundle of nerves, and the heavy groan he emits while your clit is still sucked into his mouth all contribute to the intense orgasm that steadily rocks through your body. You convulse with a silent cry, your thighs threatening to close around his head as he drags his tongue up and down your slit, catching your release with hums of approval.  

“KixKixKixKix-” you cry out his name in rapid-fire, shooting your hand down to tug at his growing hair - trying to push him away from you. “Too... much,” you whine, bucking your hips in an attempt to knock him off of you. With a lewd pop, he finally removes his mouth from your oversensitive cunt, but not before breathing in deeply through his nose while still buried between your legs.

“Kix!” you squeal at him, embarrassment flooding your body as he moves up to kiss at your throat. “What-”

“You smell so damn good, darling. Like the sweetest, most rare fruit in the galaxy. You taste like it, too.” Your cheeks are hot, eyes wide as he chuckles against your skin.

“So, it doesn’t...?” 

You don’t need to elaborate on your question before Kix answers it with honesty.

“No, darling. No taste or smell of blood. Quite the opposite, actually. You are absolutely delectable. Maybe when you get more comfortable, I’d love to fuck you like this, if you’re ever up for it.”

“But the... the blood...”

“I’ve heard it makes quite the pleasurable experience for both parties involved. But like I said, only when you’re comfortable. Until then, I’d be more than happy to devour you every chance you give me, darling.”

***

| m a s t e r l i s t |

tagging the peeps on the Clone Bois taglist: @bvcketfvcker  @deewithani  @chromia7567  @threevie  @letitrainathousandflames  @latenightsthoughtsnstuff  @thefact0rygirl  @justanothersadperson93  @ohtobeamoth  @14mcmd1122  @tacticalsparkles  @cheesemachine44  PLUS @redandwhiteroses

[yourdeepestfathoms]

a little unconventional (part one)

[foster au]

this is set in America because i don't know how Romania works

---------------------------------------

rapture rising

“Alcina, my beloved sister, are you sure all of this is necessary?”

Alcina shot a glare over her shoulder at her toddling younger brother, who she was making carry in several boxes full of various items into one of the many rooms in her mansion. This one wasn’t one of the bedrooms, but rather a temporary storage room for all the things she had recently bought. She was going to have everything set up for the children to choose from when they eventually arrived. Just thinking about them getting to pick out their bedsheets and paint for their new rooms made a smile come to her lips, excitement rushing through her like dozens of butterflies flying for the first time.

…And then her idiot brother bumped into the doorframe and caused an avalanche of boxes to come down on top of him.

“Be careful!” Alcina barked, whirling around to him. She bent down to start picking the boxes up. “You’re lucky there was nothing fragile in here.”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Heisenberg grunted, rubbing his head.

“And to answer your questions, dearest brother, yes, this is all very necessary,” Alcina said. “I need this to be perfect for them. This may be the first time those little girls get a real home.”

“Inflating your ego, aren’t you?”

Alcina stepped on his foot.

“I have the paints.” Moreau, Alcina’s other brother, shuffled inside, holding several cans of paint on his arms. If they were hurting him, he didn’t say anything. He seemed pleased with himself for being so useful.

“Thank you, Sal,” Alcina said. She took the cans from him and placed them against the wall. “Yellow, green, red, blue, pink, purple… Do you think that’s enough? What if they want, like, a mauve room?”

“Mauve?” Heisenberg echoed as he was crow hopping on one foot, still recovering from being stomped on.

“It’s a shade of purple,” Moreau supplied.

“I know what mauve is, asshole,” Heisenberg hissed. “I was just saying.”

“And I’m just saying, what if they want a lighter-colored room?” Alcina said. “This purple is dark. Should I go buy more?”

“You could mix white into the paint?” Moreau suggested.

Alcina thought it over, then nodded. “Yes, I could do that. Good idea.”

“Who wants a mauve bedroom, anyway?” Heisenberg muttered.

“Alcina!” A fourth voice echoed throughout the house, and Alcina’s sister entered the room. Donna looked uncharacteristically bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She was clutching something in her hands. “Alcina, I have finished them!”

“When did you get here?” Heisenberg looked at her.

“Just now,” Donna said. “It doesn’t matter. Look!”

A beautiful doll was presented to Alcina. It was hand-stitched and dressed with great care. All the little details, down to the freckles and shiny eyes, were incredibly-made, and Alcina couldn’t help but pick it up tentatively, as though she were afraid of accidentally destroying it.

“Oh, Donna,” she said. “It’s beautiful! Thank you.”

Donna beamed. “I have also made stuffed animals and toy clothes for them. An entire wardrobe, in fact. Many selections.”

“Damn,” Heisenberg looked impressed. “Toys dress better than I do.”

“We know,” the other three said in sync, eyeing his ratty trenchcoat and old cowboy hat that he insisted on wearing everywhere.

“You weren’t supposed to agree!” Heisenberg barked like one of his dogs.

“Shouldn’t have said anything,” Alcina shrugged daintily. She looked back at Donna and smiled. “Thank you, Donna. I really appreciate your support. I appreciate all of your support. Even yours, Karl.”

“Sure, sure…” Heisenberg said, though Alcina didn’t miss the glint of fondness in his eyes.

“This is so exciting,” Donna said. “It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing, Alcina. Do you remember when we were all adopted by Mother?”

Heisenberg snorted. “I remember being kidnapped as a child and held for ransom, and then being one of the abduction victims to be actually found alive, only to discover that my parents had been killed while trying to get me back, to which I was then thrown into a home with you three.”

Donna winced. “Not…quite what I had in mind.”

“And you say ‘you three’ like we weren’t your best friends growing up,” Moreau pointed out idly, not looking at Heisenberg as he was helping unload some of the boxes. That one in particular held a wide selection of different bed sheets, ranging from leopard print to floral to plain blue.

Heisenberg raised his nose and huffed. “Well. Still.”

Alcina shook her head with a warm smile.

She vividly remembered life with her adoptive mother, Miranda, and her three other siblings. She was reborn from ash and flame after her old family estate burned down to the ground, smoldering the life she used to have and taking her parents with it. Yes, she could still smell the smoke, taste the embers on her tongue, even now, thirty-five years later. She was so small back then, only nine years old when the fire started, and she watched her home crumble to pieces right before her teary eyes. She thought it was over, that she had nothing, that she was going to be alone forever without her mother and father, but then a woman in a black cowl whisked her up into tender arms and took her under her wing as though she were the chicken to a nurturing mother bird.

She was the first of Miranda’s ragtag rascal children with harsh upbringings. For two years, it was just the both of them, reading books and watching movies in a beautiful countryside manor that quickly became her new home. Though the wounds had still been raw, the burns were very fresh, Miranda filled the void in her heart that her parents’ death left behind, extinguishing that eternal fire of survivor guilt and mourning.

And then the others came along.

At the time, Alcina had been rather indignant at the idea of having siblings. She was an only child with her birth family and she preferred to stay an only child with her new one, too, but she never voiced this opinion to Miranda. She grinned and bore it, even if it meant losing the attention of her mother.

Though, they didn’t end up being that bad…

The first of the “intruders” as she used to call them was Salvatore Moreau, a boy her age, though three months younger, and with a story similar to her own. He had been in a car crash after his drunken father got into a pretty nasty collision. The engine caught fire and it wasn’t long until the rest of the car followed. Moreau was trapped in the inferno, but managed to get out, running towards a nearby lake to extinguish the flames that were trying to make him its newest pyre. Unfortunately, the event left him badly burned, the scar still lingering all these years later, and nobody wanted to take in such a “disfigured child.” Miranda, however, stepped up to the challenge and fostered the boy, eventually adopting him fully later on.

Alcina was, admittedly, rather uneased by her new brother’s appearance at first, but she quickly got accustomed to him, even protective. There were several moments in school where she verbally (and sometimes even physically) pummeled any kids who dared to make fun of him, drilling into the bullies that he was not to be messed with while she was around. Some of her best retributions were when she threatened to leak unwarranted dick pics to the entire school, as it wasn’t uncommon for horny teenage boys to try to get into her pants, and that always shut them up quickly, especially when she loudly proclaimed details on their pathetic excuse for a penis, like the size and shape.

She and Moreau grew close rather quickly, much quicker than Miranda had been expecting. They both enjoyed more mellow things, like reading books and going on walks through the forest. Moreau was the sole reason she passed any English assignments done on Shakespearean literature, as he actually knew how to discern the confusing text, while she had to reread the same page over and over again to simply get a loose grasp on the grammar. He enjoyed cheesy romcoms, birdwatching, and swimming, the last of which he had a strong affinity for because of how the lake beside the car wreck very well could have been the only reason he survived. Now, he owned that very lake and made it into a popular fishing and boating destination for locals and tourists alike.

The second to arrive was Donna Beneviento, when Alcina and Moreau were both twelve. She was a full five years younger than the two of them and didn’t talk very often, at least for a good chunk of the first year she was there. She was put into the foster program after her parents commit suicide, leaving her with nothing but anxiety, trauma-induced selective muteness, and a doll named Angie.

It took time, but Donna eventually started opening up. First to Miranda, and then to Alcina and Moreau. Alcina strongly remembered a time when her little sister came to her room during a thunderstorm, lips quivering, tears glistening in her eyes, Angie clutched in a vice from her thin arms. She didn’t say anything, just stared from the doorway, whimpering and shivering.

“Alright,” Alcina had sighed. She flipped open her comforter, welcoming Donna. “Come on.”

Donna had brightened and skittered into the bed, snuggling right up against Alcina’s side. Alcina didn’t mind and resumed the book she had been reading before--Animal Farm, she believed. Donna pointed at the pages and then looked up at her curiously.

“Oh, this?” Alcina had said. “It’s called Animal Farm. It’s about these talking farm animals overthrowing their farmer to gain freedom, only to then be ruled by a communist pig.”

Donna blinked. “What’s a communist?”

“Well, you see…”

Her late-night explanation was certainly aided by the fact that they were in the middle of the Cold War at the time.

Overtime, Donna slowly grew out of her shell. Though she was still soft-spoken and reserved, she was also very kind-hearted and incredibly creative, which she showed through paintings, arts and crafts, and doll making. She would make dolls out of anything she could find--wood, thread, clay--so it made sense when she eventually became a toymaker once she grew up.

Finally, there was Karl Heisenberg when Alcina and Moreau were thirteen and Donna was eight. Right from the start, he was a loud, spitfire ten-year-old that broke the serene silence that used to hang over Miranda’s estate. He caused a great amount of mischief and mayhem, though Alcina would later discover it was to hide the fact that he was deeply traumatized by what exactly had happened to make him a foster child.

Even now, so many years later, Alcina still didn’t know the full story. Miranda said it wasn’t her tale to share and Heisenberg simply didn’t like talking about it very much. But from what she did know, Heisenberg used to belong to an incredibly wealthy business owner that ruled over their company with an iron fist. Due to the harshness his parents inflicted on their employees, it caused the workers to revolt against the abuse. A certain group took this way too far and kidnapped Heisenberg, holding him for ransom so they could get better treatment and pay at their work. Something ended up happening during the time between Heisenberg being held hostage and his parents paying up, and it left his mother and father in a way that he could never bring himself to explain. She only got snippets of the brutality of their deaths through brief moments when he would come to after vicious nightmares, one of which she actually stepped in to stop when she heard him struggling one night.

“Their heads, Alci,” Heisenberg had gasped, clawing manically for a desperate grasp on her arms, his body jerking and spasming in terror as his nightmare was still releasing his small, twelve-year-old body. “Their heads-- their brains were--” And then he stopped and keeled into her chest, sobbing in a way Alcina had never seen him do before in the two years he was living with her before that moment. Despite her occasional vex towards the boy, he was still her little brother and she was still his big sister, so she had wrapped her arms around him and held him close while he trembled and cried.

She never did find out what Heisenberg meant by “their heads,” but she had a hunch. Still, she never asked.

Nowadays, Heisenberg ran his own factory, where he treated his employees the way his parents should have treated theirs, learning from their mistakes. He also fostered all different kinds of dog breeds until they found their forever homes and rescued the more ‘vicious’ ones, like pit bulls and rottweilers, all of which he treated like royalty.

A freakishly tall girl, a burned boy, a selective mute, and a dog lover… They certainly weren’t the epitome of the stereotypical nuclear family, but they were family through and through, if not by blood, then by bloodshed.

“Do you guys remember the time Karl tried to clean the dishwasher with Kool-Aid?” Donna reminisced with a giggle.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Heisenberg said.

“Absolutely not,” Donna grinned at him.

“I still don’t know how you came to the conclusion that that would work,” Alcina shook her head.

Heisenberg threw his arms up into the air. “John said it did!”

“John also tried to steal a school urinal.”

“Also, you’re supposed to take all of the dishes out before you try to clean it with Kool-Aid,” Moreau spoke up. “You left all of the pots and plates and silverware in it.”

“And he didn’t even put it in the right spot!” Alcina joined, cackling. “You’re supposed to put the powder in the detergent dispenser. Karl, you just poured it out all over the dishes!”

“It wasn’t even the right powder,” Donna put in. “You’re supposed to strictly use unsweetened lemonade only. You used tropical punch!”

Alcina, Donna, and Moreau all burst into laughter, while Heisenberg crossed his arms and glared at them.

“John never specified any of that!” he blustered.

“Never trust John, dear,” Alcina tittered.

“Well, it happened!” Heisenberg said. “It’s over! What other boxes do you need to move!”

More laughter.

“I’m serious! I’ll get the boxes! Also WHAT IS THAT.”

They all turned to see a patchy tortoiseshell cat lazily strolling into the room with them. It looked like it had been run over, dismembered, run over again, and then put back together by a blind surgeon, but it held itself like it was the most pristine lion to ever walk the earth. It glanced over at the four siblings, meowed at them, then continued on its stroll to one of the empty boxes, which it jumped into and made itself comfortable inside.

“It’s a cat,” Donna said as if it should have been obvious, earning a snort from Moreau and then a glare from Heisenberg.

“It’s not funny,” Moreau said quickly after Heisenberg glared at him, too, but it was obvious Heisenberg’s leer was all in good fun.

“No, no. Tom from Tom and Jerry is a cat,” Heisenberg said. “THAT is an overgrown street rat.”

“Well, one could assume the same about you, but you don’t see us pointing it out,” Donna said breezily.

Another bout of laughter, this time with Heisenberg included.

“Okay, okay, you got me there,” Heisenberg said.

“Must you insist on reacting the same way every single time you see Tea Cake?” Alcina finally spoke up through the playful bickering. She crouched down next to the cat and stroked its back, which caused it to purr in content.

“It’s my trademark,” Heisenberg said with a shrug. “That old woman is still alive?”

“And kicking,” Alcina smiled fondly at her pet.

Tea Cake had been with her for a long fourteen years, witnessing more than a few existential crises and drunken concerts put on to chase off her lurking PTSD. That cat came during the worst part of her life, and Alcina owed everything to that little beast. She learned how to laugh and smile and genuinely feel again, not hide behind the facade that she was a strong, powerful woman who could take on everything and come out without a scratch.

And, yes, Alcina had known- still knew, that she had Miranda and her siblings, but sometimes they were not enough, not back then, not when she was filled with so much shame and self-hatred and disgust. Animals were different in a way people couldn’t be. Animals didn’t lie, they didn’t judge or think about how messed up you were in their heads. They didn’t share your secrets or give you false hope. They just--be there. They listened and lent their presence and, sometimes, that was all that was needed, and some people didn’t seem to understand that.

Tea Cake’s fur had dried more of Alcina’s tears than anyone else ever had because she never let them fall in front of others. Tea Cake didn’t get upset when Alcina touched her; she didn’t understand the concept of emotional trauma and sexual harassment and body image issues. She just cared, even if she didn’t quite get it.

Alcina would probably be dead if it weren’t for her.

Yes, she remembered that fateful night… The wind in her shaggy hair she hadn’t washed in days, the moonglow on her ashen skin, the tears burning in her eyes--all of it was so clear, even now. She remembered how horribly, hopelessly depressed she had been and how she drove out to a field with a note on the dashboard and a gun in the passenger seat.

At the time, nothing had helped her. Her antidepressants weren’t working, going out only made her feel unsafe, and her family’s presence no longer brought her comfort and happiness, rather guilt and shame. The only thing that ever helped was when she drowned herself in the alcohol she made for a living, drinking away her despair and trauma until her body tingled and the phantom hands went away. She was surprised her liver never exploded inside of her during those awful few months.

She had sat in her car for a while, leaning her head on the steering wheel and wallowing in silence and darkness. Then, she got out, made sure the note was visible, and grabbed the gun.

She considered calling or texting her mother and siblings, but that would make it hurt worse. It was better to leave them with their last memories of her than to have this sudden news of a goodbye that they wouldn’t be able to stop.

She placed the pistol’s barrel in her mouth and rested her finger on the trigger. Her life didn’t flash before her eyes like some movies or books say it did, and she was quite thankful for it. She didn’t want to relive the agony she had been put through that led her up to that point. She just shut her eyes as tight as possible in preparation for the bullet to pass through her brain…

Then, there was a rustling from the grass nearby.

Alcina hesitated. The metallic taste of the gun left her tongue and she looked in the direction of the noise.

“Hello?” she had called out in her best possible not-about-to-kill-herself voice.

A tiny meow answered her.

“Your roadkill wants you,” Heisenberg’s voice cut through the daze that had momentarily descended upon Alcina’s mind.

Blinking, Alcina realized that Tea Cake was gnawing on her finger and meowing. She smiled.

“It’s probably dinner time,” Alcina said. She stood up straight. “Come on, children. I have news to share.”

Curious, her three younger siblings followed her out of the room and to her kitchen, Tea Cake padding after them eagerly. Her house was a beautiful creation of the finest wood and the most luxurious stonework. Top-of-the-line appliances filled the space and every little detail, down to the hanging droplets on the chandelier and the grooves in the staircase railing, were customized to her preference. 6 bedrooms, 9 bathrooms, 17,182 square feet, 14.99 acres filled by lush vineyards, and $5,500,000 later, and you had the Dimitrescu Estate.

And it was a barren prison.

It had always been there, ever since she moved in: that lingering loneliness that seemed to shroud every hallway. She had so much space, but nobody to fill it. Nobody except herself, Tea Cake, and her maids, of course. Lying awake one night, thinking about this issue as she often did, a solution had finally come to her.

After pouring some wet food into Tea Cake’s food bowl, Alcina grabbed a bottle of sweet butter wine out of her wine fridge and poured a glass for herself and each of her siblings, all of which were staring at her curiously. After taking a long sip, she finally began: “As you all know, I have plans to foster a child. And I greatly appreciate all of the support you three have provided me up until now.”

“Is this an award ceremony or something?” Heisenberg joked light-heartedly. “Can I have the award for most boxes carried? I think I deserve that one.”

“You mean most boxes dropped?” Donna giggled, earning her a playful poke in the side.

“No, it is not an award ceremony,” Alcina glared at Heisenberg without any fire in her gaze. She opened up a drawer in the stainless kitchen island they were gathered around. “Though, this may very well be an award…” She pulled out a blue folder packed full of papers and set it on the marble countertop, grinning brightly. “I just wanted to let you all know first that my training is done. I’ve completed all the classes.” Her heart swelled in her heart as she spoke her next words: “I’m a foster mom now.”

All at once, her younger siblings lit up brighter than the sun’s supernova, throwing their arms up into the air and letting out a celebratory shout. Donna and Moreau even raced around the island to hug Alcina, which she returned with a laugh.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful, Alcina!” Donna said, squeezing her with surprising strength. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Me too,” Moreau agreed.

“Sal, are you crying?”

“No!” Moreau yelped, then sniffled. “I just have something in my eye, that’s all.”

“You mean tears?” Heisenberg teased. He then looked at Alcina. “That’s amazing, Alcina. I’m really happy for you. You deserve this.”

“Aww,” Alcina crooned. “Is my little brother going soft?”

Heisenberg instantly steeled himself. “Me? No way! I was just saying what you would want to hear.”

Still being embraced on either side by her other brother and sister, Alcina chuckled. “I see.”

“Do you know your placement yet?” Donna asked, looking up at Alcina as though she were a child again.

“Placements,” Alcina corrected. She couldn’t help but grin again as she spoke of her future children. “Two. I’m getting two little girls.”

“Aww!” Donna and Moreau both cooed.

Heisenberg was nodding. “Girls. Yes. I can do girls.” He looked up at Alcina. “I’m getting them a puppy.”

“Oh, you don’t have--”

“I’m getting them a puppy,” Heisenberg said again, and it was clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Alcina chuckled. “Alright. A puppy it is.”

Donna and Moreau began to join in on plans for being the greatest aunt and uncle, with Moreau saying that they needed to come to his lake for a swim and Donna listing off all the toys she would make for them. Alcina listened to them with a fond smile, happy to have such a supportive family. This was exactly what her daughters were going to need.

Daughters.

Just thinking about that word made her heart flutter in her chest. Her grin turned giddy. She was going to be a mother soon.

As she sipped from her wine glass, she thought about her placements. She had gotten the call four days ago and was scheduled to meet the little ones in the next two weeks. She could still hear her caseworker’s words in her ears during the conversation as she recalled it to her siblings.

“The first is named Daniela,” Duke had said. He was a studious, patient man with a warm smile and hands like chipmunk paws, keen on helping Alcina ever since she started her training to become a foster parent six months ago. “She’s a little girl and eleven years old. Her parents have, unfortunately, recently died due to a car crash. Her living relatives are unfit to take care of her, so she’s been placed into the foster system. Right now, she’s staying with her aunt and uncle, but she cannot be kept there much longer because of, ah…jealousy issues with their actual child.

The second is named Cassandra. Another girl, this one twelve years old. She’s been in the foster program ever since she was a baby when she was given up, as she was born from a teenager who couldn’t take care of her. She’s had…quite a few foster homes, all of which had given her up to someone else due to…issues. I understand if you don’t want to take this child. She’s been known to cause problems in her houses and pick fights. There is-- woo, that’s a lot of complaints… There are some notes on her left by her former families and-- Goddamn. They’re writing of her like she’s a monster or something…”

“Of course, I couldn’t turn down either of them,” Alcina concluded her retelling. “Especially the second one. Cassandra. The poor thing sounds like she needs a good home.”

“You’re so sweet, Alci,” Donna said, smiling at her.

“Think you can handle it?” Heisenberg asked. “I’m not doubting your abilities, but from what you said about the kid… Well, she just sounds difficult.”

“You were difficult,” Alcina said, grinning at him. “And everything turned out just fine, didn’t it?”

Her youngest brother’s concern didn’t diminish. “Yes, but… I don’t want anything to happen to you or my niece.”

Alcina, Donna, and Moreau all cooed. Heisenberg huffed.

“Oh, shut it! I have a heart!”

“You do,” Alcina’s smile lightened slightly. “But don’t worry: everything will be okay. I can do this. I need to do this. Those two little girls need a mother.”

Heisenberg considered her for a moment, then nodded. He smiled at her. “You’ve got a good heart, Alcina,” he said. “If you ever need any help, I’m here.”

“Me too!” Donna joined in.

“Me three!” Moreau piped up.

Alcina laughed. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot to me. Now…” She raised her glass. “Let’s drink before we have to cut back because there will be children around!”

Her siblings laughed and mimicked her gesture.

Alcina couldn’t wait.

[10millionyearsdungeon]

Reminiscence - Second Tempo

A/N: So! Second Tempo is a continuation of the First Tempo posted here. Just like the last, it’s part of the Haikyuu! HQ Server Collab; check out the rest of the work on the flaming smut pile.  ===================================================

“Oi, it’s Ukai. Leave a message.” “Oh, Keishin…” Your body writhed against your fingers, phone pressed against your ear as another gasping moan ripped through you. The pads of your fingertips glided over your sensitive nub effortlessly as you grinned into the phone balanced between your shoulder and your ear. The game of cat and mouse had been going on for well over six months between yourself and Keishin; the ceaseless war of attrition had the teams and your students wondering who would break first. An international volleyball conference had you and the Karasuno girls’ team pulled away from Miyagi, from the handsome coach with those sharp, leering eyes.

“I know you’re away for training camp with the team…But I need you, Keishin.” Lust coated every syllable, each word dripping with desire as your fingers teased over your nipples and dripping folds. Another lascivious moan echoed into the receiver as you slipped a single dainty finger into your twitching hole. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off of myself…god, I wish it was your fingers slipping inside this tight, needy hole…” Sprawled out on your hotel room bed fresh from a shower, your wet hair plastered itself against your neck as you continued to rock into your own hand. 

He invaded your thoughts; like intrusive kudzu he wrapped himself around your senses even halfway across the world. Did he know how you had ruined two pairs of panties at the last voicemail he sent you before the girls’ last match that day? Did he realize how desperate you were to be home? Could he hear it in your voice? 

“Keishin,” you whined out, fingertip just brushing your g-spot. With a soft growl, you snatched your phone from your ear and put the device on speaker so you could angle yourself to reach deeper. With your body able to contort a little easier, the phone rested next to your flushing face against the pillowcase. Your body jolted into waves of pleasure as your legs tensed into your stroking. “Fuck, I can’t wait to come home, oh fuck, oh fuck, Keishin…”

The familiar stars dotted your vision as you bucked into your hand, clit rubbing fitfully into the meat of your delicate palm. You could almost see the flash of bleached-blond hair, the tanned skin stretched across those long, toned forearms. Painfully arching your wrist to drive your curling fingers into that familiar, soft spot you clenched tightly around your thin digits. You couldn’t fight the orgasm that threatened to overtake you quicker than anticipated. “Oh, fuck, Kei…Keishin!” Your words were gasping, breathless sounds, the same sounds he took pride in drawing out of you. 

“It should be your cock I’m cumming on. Why isn’t it your cock, Keishin? Fuck, I…” Another cry left you trembling as you came around your fingers. The ecstacy you felt solo was a pale shade of what you had grown used to with the snarky coach. You whimpered into the phone and shifted the sheets around you, arms hopelessly searching for him in the stark white abyss of your hollow afterglow. 

“I can’t wait to see you, Keishin…Until then,” you closed and hung up the phone. A small grin bloomed over your features as you came down from your brief high. The back and forth of phone tag and stolen video chats for the past week made you long for the thug-faced twenty-something coach fiercer than you could imagine. For the moment, the extra pillows in your bed would have to suffice as a sub-par substitute before you could nuzzle into the warmth and inhale the smoke and sweat from his skin again.

~

It was a long day of drills and penalties for the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball Club at the joint training camp with Fukurodani and Nekoma. The boys continued to run themselves full tort against the other two teams, trying to refine and rebuild their skills on the court. Keishin found himself getting frustrated with the lack of progress the team was making, even considering the upperclassmen were bordering on complacency. Daichi assured him they were trying their best and maybe it was time for their coach to take a break. 

He ambled from the gym with a lazy kind of grace and fumbled for his cigarettes and phone from his pockets. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the voicemail notification he saw across the screen. The tiniest of cocky grins stretched his mouth into a crooked curve as his thumb hovered over the play button. “Damn, must’ve just missed her,” he sighed, pressing play and holding the phone to his ear. The second your moan, your deliciously sinful voice graced his ears his face heated up and his ears flushed a deep red. Your voice went straight to the growing tent in his sweats, an ache he would be sure you repay you for in kind when you returned. The wailing fit on the other end was audible to passers by as the flustered coach turned the volume down with thick, numb thumbs. A dark-haired Fukurodani student passed by, green eyes narrowed at the coach’s flustered appearance and wordlessly made his way into the gym, no doubt to start another four-on-four match with the boys of Karasuno. At the end of your message, Keishin leaned into the brick of the gym and finally lit his cigarette. He took a long drag, longer than he would have normally if it wasn’t for your scintillating voicemail. Once his heart slowed, his thumbs furiously typed out a reply. K- You could have warned me, little girl. Y- And ruin the surprise? You liked it. :)

K- Time and place. Y- Is that all you have to say? :( This different timezone stuff is the worst, Keishin.

K- That’s something we can agree on. It’s just another day, right? Y- I’ll be home the day after tomorrow. Closing ceremonies run until tomorrow afternoon, but flight leaves a day after. K- Text me next time, little girl. And tell the girls to kick ass during their last exhibition match. Y- Does it make you mad that my team’s doing better than yours, Mr. Big Bad Daddy Crow? >:D

K- Just wait, little girl. You haven’t earned your wings yet. We’ll see how much fight you have in you with my hand around that pretty neck of yours and your lips wrapped around my cock. 

He chuckled darkly at the thought of your ruined face, chest heaving, gasping for oxygen as he held your lips against the hilt of his cock. He knew you well enough to know that your face would be about thirty shades redder than his was listening to your siren song after reading his message. God, you were never more beautiful to him than when you were sobbing out for release, begging for him to make you his. Fewer things kept him warmer at night when his wide palm wrapped around his cock than thoughts of you with that lewd, haunting passion playing in your eyes. When you didn’t reply, he shook his blond head and snuffed out his smoldering cigarette filter against the wall. Of course you’d have your fingers stuffing your cunt; it couldn’t compare to his touch. He adjusted his headband deftly and pocketed his phone again, only glancing down at his cock, half-mast for a moment before another distraction pulled him away from his thoughts. Two days were going to feel like an eternity. At least he had your voice in his pocket. 

~

You yawned as your girls took the court in their last match against the American team. The manager eyed you suspiciously as you blearily watched the game unfold. “Long night, Coach?” You nodded and hummed, rubbing your eyes. The boy stood a whole head taller than you, appraising your drowsy visage. “Must be hard being away from home.” “Mmmhm. It’s easy to miss home from so far away.” “I’m sure Coach Ukai feels the same way, Y/n.” “Toshi!” Your tone was scandalized in your chiding as the younger boy stifled a chuckle. “We should be focusing on the girls. How do you think they’ll do today?” He smiled, pride swelling as he watched his team warm up. “It’s been a long week.” “They’re tired, but they’ll push through. We’ve taken the W with less in the tank before.” It was your turn to feel proud of your girls. It was true– their rise to the top, for the acknowledgement that came with the invite to a tourney on the international stage was huge, even if it was just an exhibition tourney. There was something about the game that kept you grounded despite the tumultuous turns of your life. It brought you back to those long-thought forgotten memories, brought you closer to your high-school crush. Part of you was glad you took on coaching the counterpoint to the boys’ club; it brought meaning to your career to that point. “Michimiya! Remember, it’s supposed to be fun!” you called out to your team captain, Toshi nodding in agreement solemnly from the sidelines. Aihara, your ace nodded and gave a quick thumbs up before the ball went into play. Before the other team had a chance to receive the serve, your attention was pulled from the court to the vibrating phone in your tracksuit pocket. You had half a mind to silence it, leave it ignored and let it go to voicemail. Your attention should have been on your team, your girls, but… You pulled the phone from your pocket and bit your lip at the sight of his name reading across the screen. You excused yourself from the sidelines and made your way to the hallway leading to the locker room, bringing the device to your ear. “You were gonna keep me waiting, little girl? That’s no way to earn your wings,” his voice rasped out between hurried pants. “Oh, fuck…” Heat crept up your neck from your neat, white tracksuit jacket. Suddenly, everything was too hot. You worried your lip between your teeth and fought back a whimper as Keishin growled in your ear. You did some quick maths in your dazed state and gasped into your phone. “You should be asleep, Keishin! It’s nearly two in the morning…” “Couldn’t sleep, not when I had to get you back, naughty little girl. Did it feel good cumming on those fingers without me? Did it satisfy you knowing you were cumming without my permission? Was it worth it?” “I…” “Answer me, little girl,” he continued to groan, the sound of skin gliding across skin caressing your eardrums between his moans. You could practically feel his smug expression over the phone. The sinful breath on your ear had you wishing you could be there to watch, to touch him and run your fingers through his hair as he worked his cock in that large hand he loved to wrap around your blushing throat. “I’m waiting,” he teased. “It can’t compare,” you whispered, striding with hurried steps into the locker room. His voice frayed at the edges and had you practically dripping down your thighs under your track pants. The power his voice had over your body was undeniable. “I couldn’t help myself. I…” “Aw, poor little bird. At least you’re honest.” You tried to swallow around the lump in your throat at the nickname, but struggled. Mouth dry and thighs coated in your slick, you struggled to find your way back to reason, to the here and now. Half a world away, you sunk to the locker room bench and let out a shuddering sigh at the sound of the other coach’s debauched moans. He was close, that much you could tell. How long had he been stroking that thick cock? Was he imagining your lips cradling his glans, your saliva dripping down his balls? Could he see you dragging his head along your lips and your eyes peering up at him through a fringe of dark lashes? How many times did he listen to your voicemail before he thought to call you and dish out a dose of your own medicine? “Tell me you want me. Tell me you need me like I need you, little girl.” “I…I want you,” you whimpered, balancing your phone between your shoulder and your ear. You fumbled with your track pants and slid them hastily to your knees, your practiced fingers rubbing yourself through your soaked cotton panties. “Oh, Keishin, I need you.” You bit back a soft moan, still tender from your activities from the night prior. “That’s it, little bird. Don’t stifle yourself. Let me hear you. Where did that gorgeous voice go?” “I…Keishin, I’m at the tournament,” you gasped, that sensitive nub twitching with arousal under your busy fingertips. He let out a surprised grunt and you swore you could feel him double over on himself. “Fuck…fuck, Y/n, I never took you to be such an exhibitionist. My little bird’s getting brave on me, huh?” The sound of the door to the locker room opening made you freeze for a second before shuffling your pants back up your thighs. “Coach? Coach, are you okay? The other team’s called a time-out. Did you want to do a swap?” Toshi’s earnest voice echoed in the otherwise empty room as you struggled to get the words out without sounding like you were another second away from moaning like a porn star for the man on the other side of your call. “Answer him, little bird. Don’t stop touching that clit for me. Let’s see you earn those wings…” “Ah…yeah, have Watabe swap in. I…I need a minute. Must have been something I ate this morning.” Keishin grinned on the other end, still stroking himself languidly as he listened to you lie through your teeth to your team manager. When you heard him retreat back into the gym, you let out a shuddering sigh, your legs trembling around your hand. “Such a good little bird. I’m close. You gonna come with me?” You nodded as if he could see you, still focused on the sounds coming from your phone. His breath hitched as he choked on his moans, movement stilling on his end of the phone call. You gasped in tandem, fingertips slipping inside your waiting heat. He must have known you were close based on your breathing alone. He let you continue until he howled out his release, leaving you breathless at how completely beautiful he could sound coming undone at the thought of you. “Please, please, Keishin,” you huffed out, sweat trickled down your neck as you ground yourself into your fingers, stretching against your slick, velveteen walls. “Stop.” “But-” “I said stop, Y/n.” “But…but Keishin…” “Naughty little girls don’t get to cum when they’re bad. Mm, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good luck, Y/n,” he teased again before hanging up. You sat in silence, frustrated and slick with your own fluids. Aggravated, you pulled your pants up the rest of the way and stripped off your jacket. Approaching the sink, you patted cool water against your burning skin and stared yourself down in the mirror. So it was another challenge he wanted? You had him eating crow out of your beautifully manicured hands before and you could do it again. Your team wouldn’t be the only ones getting a win. A plan came together, neatly, quickly despite the lingering haze of lust. Spite and frustration cut through your need like a white hot razor, and all you could fixate on was the thrill of victory both on and off the court. “Setters aren’t the only big brains on the court,” you mused to yourself as you reappeared on the court, hands buried deeply into your pockets. Toshi cast a sidelong glance in your direction, subtly taking in the hard set of your jaw and the color rising in your cheeks as you stared down the opposing team’s coach from across the gym. You grit your teeth, eyes dark with determination. If he wasn’t mistaken, he almost thought you were taking this game more seriously than just a simple exhibition match. Regardless of the reason, the team manager found himself grateful he wasn’t the object of your ire. “Hit it ‘til it breaks, Sasaki!!” Your yell rattled the team manager as it echoed through the gym over the roar of the crowd. The puddle in your panties only fueled your frustration the longer you dwelled on Keishin’s denial. You wanted to breathe smoke, to destroy something beautiful just to prove you could. “Stupid, big-brain setter,” you growled under your breath as your team took another point from the Americans. “Coach, why do I get the feeling you aren’t talking about the other team?” “C’mon, girls, you’re better conditioned than that!! Go for the kill!!” “Yeah, you’re definitely not talking about the other team.” The conference couldn’t be done soon enough, and the next two days were going to feel like the longest of their lives. ~ Few things in life brought Keishin Ukai more solace than quiet mornings over a cup of coffee. The only thing that could have made it better was your groggy face smiling sleepily across the table at him. Sunlight bled through the kitchen blinds, staining everything in garish gold and yellow in the pale light. Hair loose, he carded his long fingers through his bedhead with casual grace and absently scrolled through his phone as the coffee continued to brew. It would be just a few hours before you would be home; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited for your return. In the safety of his home, he could let some of that boyish glee bleed out as he searched through your old photos. As if he could forget your face, the sway of those devastating hips, or the way you’d catch your lower lip between your teeth when you were flustered. As much as he owned you, the power you held over him and his emotions was undeniable. From the moment you stepped foot on his court he was your willing captive. He set his phone aside to pour himself his first of what would be many cups of coffee. He allowed himself a moment to bask in the heady aroma, dark and bitter before it hit his tongue. Relaxing in his seat a little more, he sighed through his nose. The chiming of a text alert pulled him from his brief reprieve. Y- Good morning, Daddy Crow :D! We’ll be home in a few hours. I can’t wait to see you. Keishin chuckled into his steaming mug and took a long sip. Wryly amused and even a little annoyed by your pet name for him, he typed out his reply unhurried. K- We’ll see how tired you are when you get back. Ten hours and change is a long time to spend in the air.

Y- Don’t remind me. No idea what I’m going to do to stay occupied. 

K- I can think of a few distractions. 

He waited, watching the ellipsis flicker over the text banner for your reply, his heart rate picking up in anticipation. What fresh hell awaited him when you finally hit send? Vaguely he had an idea of how badly you wanted to get back at him for leaving you hanging during his last call, but you were too sweet, far too forgiving to want revenge. Y- I’m sure you can. What do you have lined up for today?

K- Not a thing. Just waiting on you. It wasn’t like you to not take his bait; he could practically feel the ice from your reply. Was it the distance? You were only gone for a week, but was it enough time for your relationship to cool? “Shit,” he muttered, rolling a cigarette between his fingers as he reread your reply another six times. “Guess she is mad…” He mused and fussed over your text before lighting the paper tip and taking a careless drag. The blue-gray haze hung around his kitchen like a comforting veil. He waited another moment before he saw you typing another response. He tore his gaze away from the device to ash his cigarette in an empty beer bottle he had sitting on the kitchen table; when he returned to it, the sight that met him had him melting in his chair. Your delicate frame was seated on a sea of white, the barest hint of emerald lace curling in elegant patterns along the swell of your ass. Hair pulled to one side in effortless waves of jet, your bare back was on full display, tantalizing him with the gentle curve of your spine and adorable dimples framing your tailbone. Your face in profile, he could see the faint rose dusting your cheeks and nose, the dreamy sparkle playing in your eyes as you held your breasts away from view. He knew that far-away gaze all too well– it played behind your eyes when you would look at him, when you would think about his strong hands exploring your body. His eyes lingered on the definition of your thighs, all the while longing he could feel them squeezing his head as you trembled into his waiting mouth. It wasn’t the lewdest photo he’d ever seen, but it hit differently when it was you. His mouth went dry and he felt himself get lost in every detail, as if he could memorize every scar, every freckle if he stared long enough. Y- Enjoy your distraction, Keishin.

When did you find the time to take photos? Was that the only one? Questions raced through his mind as he lingered on the picture, fingertip tracing along the swell of your hips. God, he was such a sucker for those wide hips and built thighs. He might have admired your drive and ability to keep up and run drills with your team, but he really wanted to see just how far he could push you until you broke.

“It’s just ten more hours. I can hold out for ten hours.” ~ Six months together and it took a week apart for him to salivate over the smell of your perfume. All the distance, despite the frequent calls and text messages, only intensified his undeniable thirst. You were his meet-cute, the high school crush who got away. There would always be that part of him that wondered how he got so lucky crossing your path not once but twice in his lifetime. If he were a betting man, he’d probably put more stock in fate or soulmates after meeting you, but it wasn’t his style to be so sentimental. Travel always took a lot out of you. Keishin caught you yawning on your way from the baggage claim, only aware enough to know where to step without tripping. Grinning like a fiend, he took his moment and pulled you into an empty lounge. Startled, you swung your first and jerked out of his hold, only stopping your thrashing when you caught the bemused twenty-something rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Fucking hell, is that anyway to say hello, little girl?” “Oh my god, Keishin!” Your hands flew to his face and he could have died a happy man on the spot. “I’m so sorry! You can’t just do that!” Your chest tightened at the rumbling chuckle that reverberated under your fingertips. “Keishin,” you sighed, holding his stubbled face in your thin hands. Studying the sharp planes of his face, your eyes practically sparkled with delight. He was here, real under your palms flashing that same cocksure grin that had you flustered since you first stepped up to challenge him on the court. “You gonna keep staring at me or what, little bird? C’mon, let’s ge-!” Rising to your toes, you pulled him to your lips and left him struggling to catch his breath, your perfume lingering after you withdrew and bounced away, tugging him along from the airport lobby. Head swimming, he followed, allowing you to lead him around until you remembered who drove and the simple fact that you had no idea where the car was. It was easy to forget you were an accomplished adult when you let your excitement take the wheel, but it brought Keishin closer to what might have been before you disappeared when you were still children. He never got the chance to watch you play back then, a regret he tucked away with the first night you murmured his name in your sleep. His single-minded ambition kept him from really seizing the chance to get to know you as a person instead of an idea back then. Packed away in his well-loved sedan, you couldn’t help but fidget in the passenger seat, anxiously bouncing your foot below the dash. Unfazed, he reached over and placed a hand on your knee, halting the bouncing movement with a stern glance. Color bloomed in your cheeks at the gesture, body relaxing just enough under the warmth of his palm. Braver still, he slowly ran his fingertips along the line of your thigh, stopping just below the clothed apex of your leg. Keishin never took his eyes off the road, but he knew just where to brush to make your blood sing. He followed your movements, subtly tracking your reactions to his innocent caressing. 

“Don’t get shy on me now, little bird.” 

The bait was set, almost painfully obvious as you continued to squirm into his waiting palm. “I’m not shy. I’m..”

“You’re what? Use your words,” he smirked, dragging his knuckles against your sex. The motion was so casual you might have applauded him for his audacity if it hadn’t been a week since you felt him touch you. Muddled between your jet lag and the growing haze of lust ensnaring your senses, you fumbled over your words and whimpered something about thinking about how much you missed him. “That’s what I thought.” Whether it was the nonchalance or the gentle pressure he exerted on your core, you felt yourself slip closer into that familiar euphoric headspace. It was almost embarrassing how wrapped around his finger he had you; it wouldn’t be long before he’d have you wrapped around him literally as well. 

~

You wanted to scream, to gnash your teeth and beat something to a bloody pulp. At least you could take out your frustrations on the court. The girls took the day to strength train in the school’s weight room, leaving you to your own devices in the second gym. You could see his almost-apologetic face, the slight upturn of his lips when he sent you to work with a chaste peck on your hair. 

“I just couldn’t bear to wake you…”

“Tch, likely story. Stupid, big-brain setter!” You hissed through your teeth and imagined it was his disembodied head you were spiking over the net with a satisfying crack. Your attentive team manager threw another ball and watched as you continued to fume. 

“Are you trying to pop a ball, sensei?" 

"Less talk, more throw, Toshi.” He shook his head and tossed another ball, only for you to bounce it off the floor twice to center yourself before your inevitable spike. Unsatisfied, you shook your ponytail and jogged to the opposite end of the gym to practice your jump serve. Toshi watched on, hanging his head as you sent another ball flying in his direction. “Jesus Christ, Himewari!” he screeched, ducking out of the way. You huffed in irritation, barely registering the clattering of gym doors opening. The ball rested daintily in your hand, your eyes narrowed with the smooth rubber leaving your palm before the inevitable punch. Keishin knew better than to leave the safety of the annex when you were serving, but he could watch you soar forever. Leaned against the cool wall, his headband gently digging into his scalp with his blond head resting into the drywall, he couldn’t help the crinkle of his eyes when your hand finally connected with the abused ball. Sweat glistened like diamond dust on your skin, the crop top you wore doing nothing to temper his wandering gaze. As you hung in the air, he hummed to himself, remembering Shimizu’s words when he first saw you serve. “You really do have wings, little bird…” When you landed and reached for another ball he made his presence known, his footsteps falling faintly over your light panting. This was how he liked you best, dark hair mussed and sweat dripping down the valley of your breasts. It was almost a shame, he thought to himself, that he wasn’t the one making you such a mess. He stopped just a few feet behind you only to catch the tail end of your cursing his name for leaving you high and dry on your return. As if sensing the change in the atmosphere, like catching the faint scent of ozone on the wind before a squall, Toshi took his leave and escaped into the weight room, leaving you alone with the other coach. Caught mid-approach, Keishin wrapped his arms around your smaller frame and buried his nose into your ponytail. You froze at the sudden intrusion of your personal space and the ball fell from your waiting palm, its fall echoing through the empty gym. “Thought I’d find you here,” he purred. Hackles raised, you pushed away from him and made a dash for your club jacket. Keishin used his height and longer legs to his advantage and followed close behind. If it was a chase you wanted, he’d give it to you. He let you sprint to the locker room, hand resting on the handle before he turned you by the shoulders and caged you against the wall between his arms. Looming over you, he smirked and licked his lips at the deepening flush creeping down your neck and across your collarbones. He smelled like tobacco and neroli, his cologne making your head spin. The smoke lingering on his breath had your thoughts racing– you were in high school again, fantasizing about being trapped in those arms with those sharp eyes drinking your timid expression so patiently. “What’s the matter, little girl?” he started smugly. His pupils dilated, leaning his head in to bear down on you further. “Can’t rise to the challenge? Where’d all that fight go?” Keishin licked his teeth and breathed into your ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” he teased, running his nose along your hairline. Your breath hitched; how did he always know how to make you feel so small? The thought incited more anger, more fuel to the fire burning in your belly as you jerked your ear away from his hot breath. “No, you don’t get to do that. I’m not going to let you win that easily, Keishin.” Your voice was low, almost dangerous. The animosity was one-sided, and the other coach snickered at your new-found boldness. “I don’t think you get it, little bird,” he growled, wrapping a firm hand around your thin neck. “I’ve already won.” Swallowing hard, you worried your lower lip between your teeth, his favorite tell, and stared him in the eye. The predatory gleam made you weak in the knees– he knew it. He could feel you falter under his capable palm as he gave your neck a gentle squeeze. Keishin loved seeing you like this– wrestling between reason and your desires, pinned beneath him with that fire burning behind your eyes as if to remind him that you only permitted his control because you knew how completely yours he really was. The nip of his teeth on your earlobe sent you reeling, swooning into his stubbled cheek. “Please,” you whispered. “Not here.” “No? You sure?” As if to capitalize on your wavering resolve, he raised a knee to rest just between your thighs, a silent dare to test him and see just how far he’d make you go. Instinctively, you ground your pelvis against his knee and shuddered at the delicious pressure on your core. He grinned against your cheek. “Because I think this is exactly where you want it.” Hips rocking, your anger slowly melted away as he continued to tease you, still pinning you to the door by the throat. “I think you like the idea of almost getting caught, little bird.” Your whimpers doused kerosine on the slow burning embers he stoked with his teasing. “Keishin,” you gasped, his free hand trailing down your sticky body to pull your hip hard into his waiting erection, grip hard enough you were sure you’d have bruises by the time he was done. “We don’t-” “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you then.” Your thighs squeezed around his knee, cunt fluttering at the thought of your combined spend trickling down your thighs on the walk home. His grin was sinful, eyes sharp and hungry as you melted into his knee. He could feel your slick soaking through your shorts, the sensation earning a groan you just barely made out. “Mark you as my little crow inside and out,” he purred, long fingers feathering along the waistband of your shorts. “Yeah, I think you like that idea.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” You caught his gaze through your dark lashes, leaning into his hand and waiting hips as if to lay your own bait. Your own hands caught in his hair and pulled his headband down. How you loved running your fingers through those blond waves; you rolled your hips and gave his hair an experimental tug, earning a low groan in return. He surged forward and captured your lips, a fight for dominance to the end. Tongue tracing hungrily along the curl of your lips, he softened his hold on your neck and pulled you closer. Hand on your nape, he let out a hiss when you bit him, a flash of blood lingering on your lip in return with a satisfied grin. “Oh, cocky now?” Keishin gave your shorts a shove over your generous hips. Anxiety and excitement bubbled in your chest as you squirmed against him. He was still hard muscle and sinew despite years away from the court, more than enough to handle you at your worst. “Let’s see you be cocky now, little bird.” His fingers glided along your sopping cunt, earning a sharp moan at the sudden brush along your neglected clit. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Fuck,” he breathed, too enraptured by your responsive body. “Keishin, please,” you whimpered, clutching his shoulders as his deft fingers continued to tap and rub slow, agonizing circles around your glistening clit. “Please, please fill me…” “How quickly your resolve falls apart, my little crow,” he purred into your hair, fingers now sliding into your drooling pussy. You bit back another moan, head arching back into the door as Keishin scissored his fingers against your already fluttering walls. “You’re fucking drenched.” “Please, please…I need you. I need to feel you, Keishin.” Legs trembling, you rocked into his hand, keening at the pressure his hardened fingertips exerted on your g-spot. Even accidentally, he had a way of luring out the most beautifully debauched moans from you. He continued to work you open, trying to make up for a week without laying claim to you in the span of minutes. Keishin growled low, feeling himself get lost in your whining, in the warm squeeze of your welcoming cunt around his fingers, in how completely devoted he was to hearing you moan his name like that one more time. You heard the zip after you felt the lonesome ache of loss, only to be filled again to the hilt with a gasping cry. Keishin grit his teeth and leaned into your writhing frame, bracing himself against the door as you squeezed his cock from head to hilt like a velvet vice. “W-wrap your leg around my hip,” he ordered shakily, peering at you through a curtain of soft gold. You did as instructed and felt him wrap his arm around your back, pulling you closer as he rocked into your heat with a moan of his own. “So fucking tight, Y/n…” Stars faded throughout your vision and left you feeling dazed. “So good,” he moaned, resting his forehead against yours to glance down where your bodies connected. You balanced on your toes, meeting his thrusts with your own. “Keishin,” you cried in return, arching your back off the locker room door as your first climax claimed you. Keishin grit his teeth and fucked you through the first of many, angling his hips to drive his cock deeper still, earning a harsh shriek. “Keishin, don’t stop!” “Wasn’t planning on it,” he groaned, bottoming out with a stutter. “It’s like you were made for me.” You let out another cry, clinging to the coach as tears pricked your eyes. He rutted against your cervix with a pained grin, knowing the longer he pressured against that button the sooner you’d be begging to be filled and defiled. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he sighed, slowing as your walls clenched around his cock with the advent of another orgasm. You trembled helplessly against him, body practically weightless in his arms as he continued to prolong your pleasure if only to draw out his own. When you came down, you brushed your nose along his and gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Toes curling in your trainers at the devastating sight in front of you, you gave another keening cry and buried your face into his shoulder. “Y’know, for someone so worried about being caught you sure are loud.” He grinned into your hair and hammered his hips into yours, earning another loud wail in protest and in pleasure. Your nails caught the tanned skin of his back, a vicious trail of red left in their wake as he brought you to another peak. “That’s three…” You bucked against him, fitfully chasing again after that same high only his cock could bring you. His name a prayer on your lips, he allowed you to take because you gave him so much in return. Every moan, every gush of your juices around his cock he took and devoured, knowing you wouldn’t be afraid to earn his end in return. “I can feel you twitching, Keishin. You’re close, Daddy Crow.” His hips stuttered as you whispered the pet name into his ear, holding you tightly as he bottomed out in your spasming cunt. “Hard not to when you’re fucking milking me.” He’d never admit it, but he would stay buried inside you forever if you’d let him. Only the unsynchronized whisper of your breathing and the slick slap of skin on skin surrounded the two of you in the empty gym. Entangled with the other coach in the darkened hallway, you found his lips to muffle another moan when your attention was pulled away from your bliss by the slamming of the gym doors. 

"Coach Himewari! We’re getting ready to go!” It was Michimiya your team captain. Her footfalls echoed softly, rubber tapping against the laminated wood. She paused for a moment when you didn’t answer. Keishin grinning sadistically against your lips, he held your hips flush against his, grinding his cock into that spot that frayed the edges of your vision and made your quiver around his girth. “Hm, I guess she already left…” the team captain mused before shuffling closer to the locker room door, only to quickly turn away at the opening of the door. 

“Come on, Yui! Let’s just go! Toshi can catch us up later.” Grateful for Aihara pulling her friend’s focus, you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. Keishin redoubled his efforts, dragging his teeth along the hollow of your neck. Even muffled your moans were music to his degenerate ears. You stiffened against him with the sinking of his teeth into your neck, a stifled cry and final squeeze signaling your end. Keishin wasn’t too far behind, growling into your salt-slicked skin. The heavy doors clattered shut as he moaned out his release, the heat building in your core as he spasmed into your waiting womb. 

“Fuck me, Keishin…” you breathed, half chuckling half panting. He held against you, comfortable in your combined heat as he peppered soothing kisses along your neck and into your hairline. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you like almost getting caught.”

He hissed, slowly withdrawing from your core and watched as his cum slowly started trickling from your pulsating hole down your sturdy thighs. He tucked himself back into his jeans and watched you languish against the wall for a moment, playful grin lighting his face. Deftly he collected the escaping seed and shoved it back into your abused cunt, earning a pained whimper before he pulled your panties and shorts back up to keep the rest from spilling. “Don’t waste it, little crow.” He wiggled his fingers along your lips and you greedily sucked them clean with wide, innocent eyes. Your combined taste coated your tongue, sweet and bitter all at once. “That’s my good girl,” he crooned, planting a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. 

Your anger evaporated, you slumped against him, head resting comfortably into his chest. “I’m ready for a nap, daddy crow…” you whined. Blond hair slicked with swear, he carded those long fingers through and hoisted you up onto his shoulder, carrying you out of the gym with your mess ruining your panties and shorts. 

“Oh no you don’t. As soon as we get home you’re making up for every voicemail and tantrum, Y/n.” It was going to be a long night. 

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Christmas Crush

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem-Reader

Words: 6693 (yikes)

Summary: Bucky has been infatuated with you for months. Will the Christmas Spirit finally help him make his move?

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (just all of it), fluff(I don’t know y’all, I have trouble qualifying this one), slightly dom partner, overprotective partner, SMUT (like over 3700 words of it y’all!), 18+

A/N: Sooo, this was supposed to be like 2500 words guys but I got a bit carried away. Made it in right under the wire for day 3 of my birthday week. This is also an entry for the Merry Hoemas challenge that is being hosted by @amythedvdhoarder​ @chrissquares​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @pumpkin-and-pine​ and @starlightcrystalline​. I chose the dialogue prompt “I’m not going to fall in love with you. I promise.” (from The Holiday). Please enjoy!!

“You better be wearing something nice, Barnes! No cargo pants!” you yelled out to the living area as you finished applying your makeup in the bathroom.

“Yes, boss!” He yelled back at you as he adjusted himself in the dress pants he borrowed from Sam. They weren’t uncomfortable, just tighter than he was used to.

“Dude, leave your crotch alone!” Wilson chuckled at him.

Bucky scowled at him and did his best to focus on anything else. “I can’t believe I let the two of you talk me into this.”

“You know how the boss-lady is, once she gets an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her.” Sam gave him a grin as he lounged on the sofa, sipping a glass of scotch. “Would you relax? We’re going to a club, you literally fought of a group of five assassins on your own last week. This is nothing!”

“I’m used to fighting, I haven’t been dancing since….”

“Oh god, have you not gone out since World War II!” Sam threw back his head and gave a laugh from deep in his chest. “Hoo, boy this should be entertaining!”

The three of you had been on a surveillance assignment for the past three months, and a replacement team had finally arrived to take over for you. Your flight back to the states wasn’t until tomorrow, and you had insisted that all of you find something to do to get over the stir craziness that had taken over. When you found a flyer for a hip hop Christmas party at one of the fancier downtown clubs, you ran back to the suite and insisted that you all head out. Sam was of course down immediately, but it took you a while to convince Bucky it would be a good time.

It was hard for him to not feel like the third wheel sometimes with the two of you. You and Sam loved your hip hop, and Bucky still remembered the first time he walked into one of your sparring sessions while Wu Tang was playing and had to immediately turn around and leave, ears turning red as you and Sam shouted mirth-filled apologies after him. He was slowly warming up to the aggressive music style, but still occasionally pined for the days of the Andrews Sisters and Bing Crosby.

He squirmed in the dress pants again; when did they start making suits so tight? He rolled the sleeves of his deep green shirt up over his forearms, trying to get more comfortable as the lights glinted off his metal hand, when you finally came out of the bathroom.

“You two boys ready to go?”

Fuck me, he thought.

You were wearing a bright red dress that was covered in sequins. It was in a wrap style that was wide open across your chest, exposing the valley between your breasts almost down to your navel. A thin gold chain with a dark green stone dangled around your neck and nestled in your cleavage, drawing the eye as is twinkled in the dying light through the windows. The skirt portion of the dress was short enough that it was almost obscene, and the apex of the wrap was almost up to your hip. You topped off the look with a pair of thigh high black velvet boots.

“Damn, mama, you look good!” Sam whistled at you as he stood up and spun you around with one hand.

“You’re not too bad yourself Wilson. Barnes, you clean up real nice!”

He couldn’t speak. He was suddenly extremely aware of just how tight his slacks were, and he strode over to grab all your coats from the rack and hold his in front of his crotch as he handed Sam the other two, hoping it wasn’t obvious what he was trying to hide as he slipped it over his shoulders.

“Ok, then, let’s head out!” You said, giving Sam a look as he helped you slide into your wool coat. He just shrugged at you before donning his, and the three of you got on your way.

Sam and you walked arm in arm on the way to the club, chatting idly and laughing at the occasional quip. You tried to engage Bucky in the conversation, but he just marched behind you scowling, collar pulled up against the chill in the air.

He couldn’t deny he had developed a bit of a crush on you over the course of your assignment. You always tried to keep morale up in the surveillance house, brightening the air with your laughter as you baked some sort of treat for everyone, or broke out an obscene amount of liquor when two of you had a shared shift off. He still remembered the time you had indulged in the gin just a little too much during a game of poker and passed out with your head in his lap. He hadn’t slept or moved from that position the entire night until he had to relieve Sam in the morning, reluctantly removing your face from where it had nestled during your rest.

He did his best to move past his crush, trying to convince himself it was just an infatuation that needed to wear itself out.

Then he saw you fight for the first time.

Sure, he had seen you sparring with Sam, and may have even done a session with you himself he hadn’t been concerned about how his body would react in such close proximity to you. But when that group of thugs attacked the house last week, he really saw you in action.

You moved like water. Dodging every blow that was thrown at you and landing flurries of strikes of your own that seemed like they shouldn’t have caused any damage but would reduce your opponents to puddles. Bucky almost got knocked out when you had pulled out your knives to spin them through your expert fingers like they were extensions of your will. He’d had to lock himself in the bathroom after the fight to jerk himself off, imagining it was your hands wrapped around him.

Now he watched your ass swaying back and forth in front of him as you arrived at the club, wearing those boots and that dress that made you look like walking sex. His mood soured as he handed his coat to the check girl and shoved his call ticket into his pocket, so he headed to the bar to get himself a drink.

He felt a light touch on his shoulder and gave a wince as he turned to face you.

“C’mon, Barnes, it’s Christmas!” You were giving him a heartachingly beautiful smile. “Wipe that frown off your face and come dance!”

He softened as you looked into his eyes. It wasn’t your fault he felt like a pervert everytime he stood next to you.

“I think I’m going to go grab us a table for our drinks, you go have fun with Sam. Maybe I’ll join you in a bit.”

“If you’re sure?” You cocked an eyebrow at him and bit your lip, and he felt his gut clench and his cock twitch at that look.

“I’m sure. Enjoy yourself.”

You gave his arm a squeeze before ordering yourself a shot of vodka that you immediately tossed back before heading to join Sam on the dance floor.

Bucky took his double scotch to one of the tables scattered around the floor and perched himself on a tall stool. His gaze scanned the dance floor before finding you and he let out a groan.

If he thought your fighting was beautiful, it was nothing compared to your dancing. You looked ethereal and free as you tossed your hair, rolling your hips as your arms raised above your head and followed the motion in your torso before they sank back down and rolled along your sides, highlighting the curves of your body. Sam suddenly grabbed you by the waist and spun you, causing you to throw your head back with a beautiful lilting laugh.

Bucky tossed back his scotch and flagged down a waitress, handing her his card and instructing her to keep the drinks coming. Maybe if he drank enough it would relieve the unbelievable ache he was feeling in his chest.

You and Sam joined him at the table after a few songs. You were breathless and flushed and all he wanted to do was kiss you then take you to an alley out back and fuck you stupid.

“Barnes, you are being a bit of a Scrooge here.” You grinned at him as you nibbled on a pretzel. Sam had headed to the bathroom, and you flagged down a waitress and ordered yourself a vodka cranberry before turning back to him. “I’ll order you to have fun if I need to.”

He grinned in spite of himself when you gave him a wink. “Sorry, Y/L/N, this isn’t really my type of party.”

“Aww, Bucky,” he took in a sharp breath, you’d never used his first name before. “You just need to loosen up. I can lend you a hand with that if you need it.” You reached a hand over and wrapped it around his wrist, giving it a light squeeze.

He almost said something then, but the waitress arrived back at the table at that moment with your drink and you turned to give her a smile and thanks. Sam arrived back from the bathroom then with a bourbon in his hand, accompanied by a beautiful woman with a bright smile.

“Bucky, Y/N, this is Marta, she’s a model!”

“Well hi there Marta, you going to steal my dance partner?” You were giving the girl a massive grin as you teased Sam.

“Yeah, Marta doesn’t really speak English.” Sam grinned.

“Oh, sorry.” You asked her the same question in Swedish.

Marta’s smile grew even bigger as the two of you started babbling away at each other while Bucky and Sam just shook their heads. Marta grabbed your hand suddenly and started to drag you away from the table.

“Be right back boys!” You said over your shoulder as you and your new friend headed off to the bathroom. Bucky watched you walk away and gave a deep sigh.

“Jesus Christ, man, you need to make your move already!” Sam said, exasperated.

Bucky almost choked on his scotch. “Dunno what you’re talking about.” He mumbled, wiping his chin with a napkin.

“Bruh, you’ve been staring at Y/N non-stop this whole night. Not to mention the fact that you were moping around the surveillance house for the past few months like a kicked puppy.” Sam shook his head as he tossed back the rest of his drink. “Oh, and if you thought you were sneaky about your little post-fight bathroom session last week, you are very mistaken.”

Bucky snapped his jaw shut and felt a flush creeping up his neck as he imagined your reaction to the discovery he had been touching himself to thoughts of your body underneath him.

Sam waved a hand at him. “Don’t worry, Y/N didn’t notice. I sprayed the fuck out of that bathroom with Febreze after you left. I am never doing anything like that for you again, though.”

Bucky’s heart rate went back down in relief. “We work together Sam. Even if that wasn’t the case, what am I supposed to say to her?”

“Geez, man, just fucking kiss her!”

“Fuck, Sam, we haven’t even been on a date! Don’t women usually want that sort of preamble?”

“Some women, sure. But don’t treat them like a monolith. Y/N appreciates directness and the worst thing that could possibly happen is she tells you to back off.”

“She could stab me.”

Sam guffawed. “Don’t look so turned on at the thought, dude. She’s noticed how weird you’ve been acting. She thinks you don’t like her. One of the main reasons she made us all go out tonight was to hopefully get you to warm up some.”

Bucky sighed, he hadn’t meant to push you away. “I dunno, Sam. She’s super fucking intimidating.”

“Get over it, Barnes. If you don’t make a move, someone else definitely will.”

“Oh my god, Sam, get your ass out here! It’s Christmas in Hollis!” You and Marta were back on the dance floor now and you were bouncing up and down, waving your hand excitedly at Sam.

“Aw, shit, that’s my jam!” Sam was backing onto the floor now, trying to get Bucky to follow him before giving up and turning to you and his date.

An unsteady woman sank into the seat Sam had just vacated and gave Bucky a lecherous grin before she started talking to him in slurred Swedish.

“Sorry, I can’t understand you.” He shouted at her.

“Oh, American man.” The woman purred at him in what he assumed was supposed to be a sexy voice. “You, me, fuck in bathroom.”

Bucky didn’t hear her. A giant blonde man who looked like a knockoff Thor was dancing behind you now, trying to put his hands on your hips and grind his crotch into your ass.

Bucky watched you turn and place a hand on the intruder’s chest, giving him a polite smile as you stopped your dancing, saying something to him that Bucky couldn’t make out over the music.

The guy didn’t take the hint and put his hands on your waist, pulling you flush against his front and putting a thigh between your legs, edging the hem of your skirt upwards.

Bucky didn’t realize he had been gripping the back of one of the chairs with his metal hand until he heard a crunch and looked down to see he had bent the frame when he clenched his fist.

“Knulla.” The suddenly sober woman said, standing up abruptly and scurrying away from the table.

Bucky found himself striding towards the dance floor, fists clenching and a low growl emanating from his chest.

That dirty fucker was still trying to hump you as you gave him a firm shove, trying to turn back to Sam and Marta. He wrapped a hand around your upper arm and jerked you back. Sam stopped dancing and tried to step in, but the son of a bitch slapped him in the face before turning back to you and smashing his mouth into yours, shoving his free hand up the front of your skirt to try to get at your pussy.

Bucky arrived just as you pulled back from the cocksucker and drew the offensive hand back so sharply, a snap resounded across the floor and he let out a scream.

Bucky punched him in the face before grabbing him by his collar and tossing him away from you as three security guards came rushing to the scene, too late to offer any sort of assistance. Marta managed to intercept them and started screaming at them in Swedish as you and Sam moved between Bucky and the giant Swede who was now a blubbering mess on the floor.

“It’s good Barnes, you can relax.” Sam said.

“Bucky, it’s ok. He isn’t worth it.” You were as close to Bucky as you had ever been. He could feel the heat radiating off you as you put a hand on his chest.

You had never seen Bucky so angry. His jaw was clenched so tight, you were worried the tendons in his neck were going to snap. He was breathing deeply through his nose, nostrils flaring as he glared murderously at the man who had touched you.

“Baby, you can let it go. I’m ok.” You murmured low enough that only he could hear you.

He looked into your eyes and relaxed, taking a deep breath through his mouth and nodding as the security guards dragged your assailant out of the club.

“Good boy, now you owe me a dance.”

Bucky’s look instantly changed to confusion as you dragged him onto the dance floor, giving him a breathless laugh as you started dancing again.

He had no idea what to do with himself. You saw his look of utter helplessness and turned to face him. You placed his hands on your hips and your hands around his neck and looked into his eyes. You’re hips started rolling to the rhythm as the rest of your body swayed in time with the music. Bucky was too aware of his feet and broke eye contact to stare at them, trying to figure out how he was supposed to move.

He felt your hand lift his chin and you shook your head at him before bringing the front of your body flush against his. You lined up your hips to his and started rolling them, your legs on either side of his massive thigh as you gyrated against him. He let out a moan and screwed his eyes closed.

You brought your face against his neck and whispered in his ear. “Just relax honey.”

You dipped your hips slightly and he followed you, nuzzling into your neck and inhaling your scent as his brain finally stopped overanalyzing what he was doing.

You felt the muscles underneath his shirt tightening and releasing as he rolled his body against you and your pussy clenched over his thigh. You gave a soft gasp and hoped the rush of arousal hadn’t soaked through your panties and onto his pants. His hands were pressing into the soft skin of your hips, and you knew you would have light bruises there tomorrow.

You pulled away suddenly and Bucky groaned at the loss of you before you flipped your hair forward and dropped your ass, separating your thighs slightly as you slowly drew your back up Bucky’s front before nestling your ass into the dip in his pelvis that seemed made to fit you.

Bucky growled into your hair and nipped at the soft skin behind your ear before starting to grind himself into your ass. He brought his metal arm to press against your abdomen and push you further into him, while his other wandered up between your breasts, giving one of them a soft squeeze before loosely wrapping his fingers around your throat

You felt him harden against you and let out a small gasp, starting to pull away before his metal arm locked you in place.

“Don’t you fucking move.” He growled in your ear, nipping gently at the lobe with his teeth.

His hips were moving at their own rhythm now, the music forgotten. Neither of you noticed Sam making an exit with Marta, grinning back at you before shrugging his coat over his shoulders and heading out into the snow.

Your breath was hitching softly as Bucky rutted himself against your ass, and the sound was driving him crazy. You could feel your cunt throbbing as it became slick, your arousal soaking your panties and threatening to start leaking down the insides of your thighs. He suddenly stuttered his hips and let out a hiss before stilling.

“Shit.”

He had come in his pants like a teenager, filling his boxer briefs and leaving a small wet spot on the front of his slacks. His arms released you as he stood up straight, leaning his forehead against the back of your head and screwing his eyes shut. He’d never been so embarrassed.

You shuffled the edge of your skirt down before turning around and pressing your lips against his softly. He groaned against your mouth as he brought his hands to either side of your face, tangling them in your hair. You discretely untucked his shirt as you kissed him, covering the evidence of his orgasm graciously. You pulled away before he could really lean into the kiss, and he let out a dissatisfied sigh.

You looked at him through heavy lids, biting at your kiss swollen lips before taking his hand and dragging him to the exit. “We’re going back to the hotel”

You tossed the coat tickets at the girl at the counter, breathing heavily as you tapped your nails impatiently. You snatched the coats from her without a word and tossed Bucky’s to him before charging out the door.

Bucky almost slipped several times back to the hotel as you set a brutal pace. He couldn’t get a read on you now and was worried he’d ruined things already.

You rode the elevator up to your floor in silence, one hip cocked to the side as you clicked the opposite heel against the floor rapidly. As soon as the doors opened, you strode down the hallway like you were possessed and Bucky hurried after you, concern written all over his face.

You arrived at the room first and wrenched the door open, leaving it open behind you as you stepped inside. Bucky was a few steps behind you but stopped at the entrance. He was certain you were going to lay into him as soon as he entered and wanted to take a moment to collect himself. He was running his metal fingers through his hair when your arm suddenly shot out, your fingers wrapping around the collar of his shirt and hauling him inside as he let out an uncharacteristic yelp.

You slammed the door behind him and pressed him up against it, shoving your fingers under his collar and wrapping them around his neck before you smashed your mouth to his violently, clashing your teeth against his before shoving your tongue down his throat.

Bucky overcame his surprise quickly and grinned against your lips as he slid his coat off his shoulders before cupping your ass and giving it a squeeze.

Your lips left his suddenly, leaving him breathless. You gave him a small smirk before sinking to your knees and starting to undo his belt.

“You’ve been keeping this pretty cock from me baby. My pussy’s been gushing thinking about your hot length in my mouth.” You were kissing around the bulge in his pants as you slipped his loosened belt out of the loops and undid the buttons. He leaned his head back against the door and hissed through his teeth. He’d never had a woman speak to him like this before and it was making his cock ache. He jutted his hips forward and you rubbed your face against his cloth covered erection before drawing his slacks and boxer briefs down his legs swiftly, freeing his dick to bounce back up against his abs.

You spat in your hand and wrapped it around him, drawing a groan from his chest. You started peppering soft kisses along his shaft as you ran your hand up and down slowly. “God Bucky, you’re so fucking big, I can’t wait to feel this in my pussy. I need to taste your sweet cum first though honey.”

You softly ran one finger up the underside of his shaft, tracing the vein that ran from root to tip before dragging your tongue in a heavy stripe over the same path.

He wrapped your hair around his hand and let out a hiss. “Fuck, Y/N, who taught you to talk like that?”

 “Mmm, you like it sweetie?” You asked him wickedly as you ran your tongue over the sensitive slit along his tip, lapping up the pre-cum that was starting to collect there.

“God, yes.” He couldn’t believe how much the filthy praises you were giving turned him on.

“I’ll give you as much as I can honey, but I’m worried this cock is going to fuck out my throat.” You took him in your mouth then, relaxing your throat as you drew in his entire length, feeling his balls hit your chin as you swallowed around him.

“Shit!” he thought you were going to go slower and he almost came immediately when you hollowed your cheeks around him and pulled him out slightly before taking him in again, bringing a hand up to fondle his balls.

He braced his metal arm against the door as he started to thrust his hips, fucking into your face as you choked around him, tears streaming down your cheeks and drool leaking from the corners of your mouth.

“God baby, you’re taking my cock so good. That mouth of yours is fucking amazing.” His hips picked up speed and he gazed down at you. You looked sinful, a flush in your cheeks and over your chest as you gazed up at him through thick lashes. You moaned around his cock as his praise caused a fresh rush of arousal to leak from your cunt.

“You gonna take my cum down like a good girl?” His hips were starting to stutter and you felt his cock twitch at the back of your mouth. You let out a tiny whine and tried to nod as he shoved himself all the way in, stilling himself as you felt his release run down your throat.

He pulled his softening cock out of your mouth and wiped the drool from you chin before softly cupping your cheek.

“Stay right there for a second pretty girl.”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered at him, your voice husky now that your throat was raw.

He unbuttoned his shirt and rolled it off over his shoulders, then removed his undershirt and tossed it aside too until he was standing in front of you naked.

You let out a low moan at the sight. His muscles were sculpted beautifully, his chest dusted with dark hair that tapered to a happy trail that led down to his thick cock. The skin around his metal arm was scarred and puckered, and other faint scars were visible elsewhere on his body, giving him an air of danger and menace. Your cunt clenched as you took in the sight, biting your lips as you ached to run your hands over his body.

“Stand up.” He ordered you. He didn’t know what had come over him. He had spent months wanting to beg you for some sign of affection, but now that you were there kneeling in front of him, he just wanted to take it from you. And you were willing to give him whatever he required.

You drew yourself up slowly and he picked you up with one hand and wrapped your legs around his waist. He brought your mouth down to his and teased your lips open with his tongue as he carried you to the bedroom.

He knelt on the bed with you straddling him and started to trail rough kisses down your neck, sucking occasionally to draw a bruise against your skin.

As he reached your shoulders, he wrapped his metal hand through the chain around your neck and gave it a yank, snapping it off you. He drew the shoulders of your dress down, exposing your tits as you arched your back up to meet him.

“God Bucky, please” You whined as nuzzled his face into the valley between your breasts, his stubble scratching the skin there.

“You want something, baby?” he asked you wickedly, kissing slowly up the slope of your breast until he almost reached your nipple, then moved his mouth away again.

You groaned and wound your fingers into his hair. “Need your tongue on me, please baby.”

“Where did you want it sweet girl?” he asked innocently before cupping one breast in his hand and rubbing the nipple with his nose. “Did you want me to lick you here?”

“Yes, yes, fuck!!” His tongue swirled slowly around your nipple, drawing it to a sensitive peak. “God Bucky, that’s so good!”

He brought up his metal hand to palm your other breast and you gasped at the contrast of the cool metal against your warm flesh. He tweaked the other nipple and you groaned. “You want my tongue on this one too, honey?”

“Pleasepleaseplease….” You whispered breathlessly, whining when he moved his mouth where you asked him. You started grinding yourself into his thigh, desperate for release as your pussy quivered and wept.

“No.” He ordered, grabbing your hip with his metal hand and holding you still. “You don’t get to come unless it’s on my cock sweetheart.”

You let out a thin keen as tears leaked down your cheeks.

Bucky brought his face back up to yours, holding your chin with his other hand and kissing you hungrily. You cried into his mouth in desperation.

“You want this cock, pretty girl?”

“God, yes. Please, Bucky!”

“You asked me so nicely, honey. I’m gonna give you what you want.”

He gripped your dress in his metal hand where it had gathered at your waist, gave it a twist, and ripped it off you, sequins and beads flying off the bed and across the floor. He grabbed your panties next and shredded them, bringing their ruins up to his face and inhaling your scent deeply before tossing them aside and giving you a wicked grin. You bent one leg up to start to remove your boots when he slapped your hand away.

“Leave those on.” He growled at you.

He took a moment to pause and look at you, memorizing every slope and curve of your body. He spread your legs wide and gave a low moan when he got a look at your pussy, coated in slick and swollen with desire. He drew two metal fingers softly up the inside of your thigh before running them over your sex, coating them in your arousal and making you moan. He brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them clean.

“You taste so good baby girl. Maybe once I’ve fucked you stupid with my cock I’ll eat you out.”

“Unnhh, Bucky, give it to me.” You begged him.

“You need something baby? You gotta be specific.”

“God, need you inside me. I fucking need your cock. Bucky, please.”

“Alright sweetheart. You better have at least five orgasms on my cock sweet girl. Otherwise I might have to spank you.”

He lifted your right leg and looped your knee over his elbow, opening you wide as he brought himself up to your entrance. He slowly drew his length through the slick gathered there as you whimpered, then he slammed into you, bottoming out right away and knocking the air out of you.

“FUCK!!!” you screamed as you came immediately, clenching and fluttering around him as you went rigid and started to tremble.

“That’s one, baby.” He grinned as he started to fuck into you, not bothering to wait for you to come down from your orgasm. “Shit, this pussy was fucking ready for me. Look at you gripping me so good, like you’re fucking made for my cock.”

“God, Bucky!” you whined. “You’re so big, keep moving baby. Fuck that’s so good!”

Lewd squelching noises filled the room, combining with the slap of flesh against flesh as he drove into you hard.

“Mmm, you’re squeezing me so tight, honey. You gonna come on my cock again?” Bucky slipped a hand underneath your ass and tilted your hips just a bit and felt you clench around him.

“Shit, right there. God, I’m coming again. Don’t fucking stop.” Your face screwed up as your second orgasm ripped through you, curling your toes in your boots as your legs quivered with the strain.

“Good girl.” He praised you as you fluttered around him, your release soaking your thighs as it seeped out around his cock. “I’m gonna move you now, sweetheart, get ready.”

His hand moved under your waist and he wrenched you up until you were flush against his chest. The coarse hair there scratched against your sensitive nipples and you gave a soft whine at the change in position.

Bucky stared into your eyes. Your face was a mess. Lipstick smeared all over your mouth and chin. Mascara and tears running in streaks down your flushed cheeks. Mouth open and panting with need and pupils blown wide as you gazed at him through your thick eyelashes.

You looked like the perfect mixture of sin and sex. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

He wrapped both his arms behind your shoulders and buried his hands in your hair, pressing your face to his and forcing his tongue between your lips and teeth, running it everywhere it could reach inside your velvety mouth, growling into you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and opened yourself up to him, whining as he increased his pace even more and you felt the tension gather in your core again.

“Give me another one, baby. My good girl. Show me how good that pussy is for me.”

You buried your face in his neck and groaned as you felt every muscle below your waist go rigid and another orgasm wracked you. You didn’t know if you could handle two more.

“God, sweetheart, you feel so fucking good. This pussy is making a mess everywhere.”

He pulled out of you suddenly and you gasped, hoping for a reprieve. But he just flipped you so you were on all fours and slammed back into you, making you scream.

“Just two more pretty girl. Then I’ll fill this pretty cunt with my cum.”

You didn’t know how he could last this long as he pounded into you relentlessly. He drew you up straight suddenly so your back was against his chest and you gave a small whimper. Your throat was raw from him fucking it and from your screaming, and the only sound you managed to make now was a stream of unintelligible mewls.

You leaned your head back against Bucky’s shoulder as he brought a hand up to palm at your breast. His metal fingers moved to the apex of your thighs and started drawing rough circles against your clit. You felt tears leaking down your cheeks as your pleasure began to gather. He drove them into you suddenly and you let out a thin wail as your entire body went stiff before vibrating with your release.

Bucky guided your fall forward gently until your face was resting against the blankets. Your arms couldn’t hold you up anymore so they laid limply next to your face as Bucky gripped both of your hips and drew them back to him over and over. You felt drool leaking from your open mouth as you blinked slowly. You were absolutely cock drunk. The sheer number and intensity of your orgasms had made your brain short circuit. He really had fucked you stupid.

Bucky slapped your ass suddenly and you gave a sharp gasp as you came one last time, fisting your hands into the blankets to try to keep from passing out.

“Good girl.” Bucky murmured at you. You could feel the smile in his voice and you felt your cunt clench around him at the praise. His hips started to stutter and you felt his cock twitching inside you.

“You ready for me sweetheart? This pussy treated me so good, I’m gonna fill you up.”

You managed to moan out a single word through your hoarse throat. “Please…”

The wantonness in your voice pushed him over the edge and you felt his hips still suddenly as he released inside of you. The feel of his hot cum coating your velvety walls made you moan like a whore.

“Fuck, baby. That was so good.” He gently lowered himself on top of you and you felt him soften inside of you. He peppered gentle kisses along your shoulders and the back of your neck as he pulled out of you slowly. You gave a contented sigh as he rolled off you and headed to the bathroom. You’d never been fucked so well in your life.

You heard the water running and you managed to lift your head to watch Bucky return, holding a damp washcloth. His abdomen, thighs, and cock were coated in your release, glistening in the soft light of the bedroom as he walked back towards you and sat down on the edge of the bed. The sight of his naked form filled you with a renewed sense of desire.

Bucky rotated you carefully until you were lying on your back and brought his face down to yours and gave you a soft kiss before moving himself between your legs. You heard him suck in his breath sharply when he got a good look at you, drawing your knees apart to get a good look at your pussy.

“Fuck honey, you’re beautiful.”

The skin of your mound and thighs was flushed red where he had thrusted into you repeatedly and it was all coated in the evidence of your multiple orgasms. Your cunt was swollen and pulsing as his cum slowly leaked out of you, collecting in a small puddle on the sheets.

Bucky gently cleaned your thighs and mound with the cloth, being careful to not irritate your already sensitive skin. Then he worked your folds apart with his metal fingers and drew the damp fabric over your slit slowly, collecting his release from your entrance. You gave a groan and pressed yourself into the cloth when he tried to pull it away.

“Jesus, sweetheart, already?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows and stared at him. “Bucky, you promised.”

He shook his head and tutted his tongue at you. “No, I said I might eat you out after I fucked you stupid. No promises were made.”

“Bucky, please?” You begged him, your voice husky with lust.

He gave you a look then moved to kneel between your legs. “Can’t say no to you, pretty girl. Not after this pussy treated me so good.”

You gave a soft chuckle followed by a gasp as he flattened himself on the bed and drew your left leg over his shoulder, softly kissing and sucking down the inside of your thigh before he nuzzled himself into your folds.

He softly licked at your entrance, lapping up the renewed evidence of your arousal as he dragged his tongue up and down your slit before he wrapped his lips around your tiny bud and sucked softly.

“God, Bucky! More…please…” You moaned at him, winding your fingers into his hair and pressing him further into you.

He gently teased two metal finger around your entrance before inserting them slowly, grinning against you as he felt your pussy flutter around them.

He started fucking them into you steadily while he gently sucked at your clit, crooking his wrist to hit your sweet spot as he picked up speed.

“Fuck! Right there! Don’t you dare stop! So, so, good! Please baby!” You started babbling, the pitch of your voice getting higher as he edged you closer to your release.

He latched on and sucked hard at the same time he added a third finger, and you came apart around him, soaking his chin and stubble as your thighs tried to crush his head between them and your pussy clenched and twitched around his fingers.

Bucky crawled back up the bed and laid next to you, drawing you to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You nuzzled your face into him and let out a low humming noise to show how content you were.

“God, it took you long enough, Barnes.”

He laughed and kissed the top of your head, pulling the blankets over the two of you and flicking off the bedside lamp.

“You know, you could have made a move yourself.” He murmured against your hair.

“And offend your World War II sensibilities, grandpa? You would have run away screaming.”

“Grandpa?”

“Whatever, you were scared of me. I didn’t want to frighten you off before you took advantage of your crush.”

“Right, crush.”

“Mmm, if this is how you fuck on the first date, what are you going to do when you fall in love with me?” You teased against his chest, your breathing growing deeper as you drifted off to sleep.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’m not going to fall in love with you. I promise.” He lied as he dozed off.

The snow was falling heavy over the city. And Bucky was dreaming about marrying you.

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

The Only Living Thing

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: Language.

Synopsis: You’ve been friends with BIlly Russo for as long as you can remember. Then, on that one night in New York, feelings get mixed up with the liquor that burns and everything spins out of control. So much for being the only living thing that Billy Russo has ever cared about... Or is it?  A/N: This just sort of happened. I may be writing more if you guys want, I think I can definitely take this further? I have a pretty hectic schedule but I might make it happen x

Song : Adam French - The Only Living Thing

New York, November 2019. 
 

Breathtaking. 


You are breathtaking, like the most beautiful view from atop the mountain or his biggest fear coming alive under his stare. 
 You’re a mix of excitement and terror, and you are enchanting enough to keep him on the tips of his toes, second-guessing everything, his every decision and every word... 

You are meant to leave him wanting more.

The night New York has never looked so good on a woman before.

Billy’s vision goes blurry for a second, his stomach hot and heavy.

You are glowing.

You radiate a kind of a warm sepia glow, so beautiful and genuine and so fucking effortlessy...

Smooth and unapologetic.
 


Messy strands of hair framing your face, your blushing cheeks, as you laugh your heart out, throwing your head back. Your pearl teeth flash in the dimness of the bar. Your thin black tights are torn at the thighs, your lips are red and irritated as you sink your teeth in, again and again.

Your laugh is flamboyant, intoxicating. Raw.

You are something else...

When suddenly, you see him, your black eyelashes fluttering as you wink at him. Billy’s chest feels too wide, too fragile and too hot. Do you see those unspoken words shining out of his drunken eyes?

When you make your way to him through the crowd, he’s paralyzed, afraid to move forward, afraid to scare you off, but mostly, afraid to let everyone see how desperate he is for your touch.

This is wrong, so fucking wrong, but why in hell when you come over, throwing your elegant arms around his neck, your cute perky nose touching his chest - it feels so. fucking. right?! Like you were custom-made for each other?...

Before he can stop himself, he slides an arm around your waist. You say something to him, something funny, for everyone around him snorts and chuckles, but his mind, his entire world - suddenly comes down to that spot just below his cheekbone where you plant a soft peck of your velvet pouty lips.

“Those twenty bucks we bet on? I win,” you half laugh, half exhale in his ear, your lips brushing against the lobe. “Madani is fucking obsessed with you”.

“Ah,” Billy smiles, both of his hands snaking around your waist now as he looks down at you.

...And I am fucking obsessed with us.

“And you just enjoy rubbing us - this! in her face right now, aren’t you?” he mutters instead, his temples buzzing with the gin and tonic he has been downing all night. 

God, he hopes you’re too buzzed to have noticed his slip of fucking epic proportions.

He promised himself he wouldn’t drink, not with you still around - because whatever it was that he felt for you mixed with liquid that burned equaled a very bad outcome. 

He might be well into the tipsy territory by now but Billy isn’t delusional. The chances that you would go back to his place or even kiss him back are entirely too slim.

Because friends don’t do friends.

Friends might as well become a new f-word for all Billy cares at this point.

When you throw your head back in an explosive laugh, Billy’s distracted. He gets an extensive view of your elegant neck, your delicate collarbones, but mostly - of the swell of your mouthwatering breasts, as your black silk top tightens over them. 

Fuuuuck him.

“Fuck you, Russo”, you echo his thoughts somehow as you wink at him once you’ve restored your breath, not stepping away from his embrace, however, letting him keep his hands on you. 

It’s always like this between the two of you. You’ve known each other for a while now - four, five years? After Billy bumped into you at a brunch at Liebermans’ and spilled his frappuccino all over your gorgeous rack. He wasn’t even going to come - but boy, was he glad he did - even though you wasted no time opening that sassy mouth of yours and verbally eviscerating him.

This wasn’t a love at first sight. 
 For you, at least.

“At least buy me a dinner first,” Billy barely manages, his vision a tad blurry.

He notices you giving him an unimpressed stare. Feeling stupid all at once, Billy blinks quickly and lets go of your waist...

Only to tremble on his feet and almost fall on his face.

“Heyyy,” he registers your breath on his cheek before he hears what you’re saying, your small hands holding him in place. Your touch burns through the fabric of his button down shirt as your palms slide up his sides to his shoulders. “You okay there, Russo?”

Billy squirms, chomping on his bottom lip as he grabs you by your elbows.

‘’M fine”, he says quietly, but doesn’t let go. When he lowers his stare to meet your eyes, he almost wants to cry. There’s concern in their bottomless depths, worry for him and desire to make it all better. He just wishes there was more heat there, and less of that f-word that ends with -riends.

“You don’t look fine, lover,” you retort, wiggling and pushing and pulling onto him until you’re snug under his arms and carrying his dead weight to the exit. “Let’s go get some fresh air, come on.”

Billy utters something half-heartedly, his head feeling like it’s filled with cotton. He didn’t even drink that much, as least he doesn’t think so. Must be your fucking intoxicating perfume, sweet but voluptuous and so fucking tempting...

Pure sin. 


Even drunk out of his fucking mind, he’s still the envy of every guy at that bar because he’s with a stunning, breathtaking, prettiest woman in the whole damn world that is you.

“If you were able to stand right now, that line might have gotten you laid,” you inform him with a laugh, basically carrying him to the exit on your shoulders.

Through the drunken haze, Billy realises he might have spoken those words out loud, but the terror is quickly replaced by...

“Are you shitting me?” He slurs, trying to stay vertical. “Are you saying you want me?”

By the time the words escape his mouth, you have pushed the exit door wide open and nudged him to step out. Losing his balance, Billy crashes into Frank, Stein and Madani, smoking outside.
 Dina’s eyes flash mischievously as you step out of the bar, immediately throwing your arms around Billy protectively, helping him to steady himself.

“Oh, so it’s common knowledge now, then?” Dina ventures, licking her lips bloodthirstily, her eyes never quitting yours. “You’ve finally admitted you want to drag that fine Caspian ass in your bed?”

The running joke aimed at Billy looking like a Disney prince feels out of place; all conversation is silenced out as you narrow your eyes at Madani, your grip around Billy’s waist instantly becoming tighter. Frank clears his throat in an attempt to defuse the awkwardness, but doesn’t intervene.

And Billy is... well, happy. Over the moon, actually, and still drunk off his ass.

Apparently, you have been wanting to drag his ass into your bed for a while now!

That does mean you see him more than a friend, right? 

What if... What if all this time you were just as hung up on him as he was on you, but neither of you had the balls to say anything?

In his picture perfect drunken world, Madani makes sense and his heart sings.

You want him.

If it were a Disney cartoon, animals would be singing and dancing around praising your couple. 

Frankie would have probably made a sick unicorn.

“Oh Dina”, suddenly your voice cuts right through Billy’s happy fantasy, and there’s way too much sass in that voice for it to belong to a Disney princess. “Just because your friend Sam here and your own desperate fan-girling ass carry a boner for some fucked up teenage fantasy that involves boinking Prince Caspian, doesn’t mean all women have that same one-track mind. Some of us can actually look past a dick and see a friend. So why don’t you lay off that Cosmopolitan and fuck off, vodka-cranberry sure ain’t making you brighter”.

Billy frowns, deep lines creasing his forehead.

Frank snorts with laughter, not even bothering to conceal his reaction. 
 
 You hold Dina’s hateful stare.

“Whatever, bitch” the latter one finally utters, throwing her cigarette away. “I never fucking liked you. Maybe after this your little fanboy here will see you for what you really are - a fucking coward and a tosser”, Billy’s stares at her in disbelief, his mind still foggy. Madani’s dark eyes flash dangerously in his direction. “Of all women, Russo... Karma is a bitch, isn’t she? Your little princess here only loves herself, lover. Get out while you fucking can”.

Smashing her shoulder into yours, Madani goes back into the bar, leaving equally dreary and awkward silence behind.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Frank isn’t laughing anymore as he folds his hands on his chest, giving you a questioning eye. 

You roll your eyes dismissively. 

“Well, she’s obviously shit-faced,” you shrug, sliding your hands off of Billy. “What, you’re surprised she hates me?”

It’s a whole another world there, in Billy’s head. Have you just distanced yourself from him after what Madani said? What, you thought he’s so drunk he wouldn’t fucking notice?

“...so just because I have basic restraint and actually appreciate a man as a friend, I’m a damaged bitch with a twisted sense of humour? Look, I don’t know, Frank”, you rub your eyes tiredly with the back of your hand.

“I do,” Billy suddenly chimes in hoarsely, his eyes bloodshot and dark, darker than usual, as they narrow at you. “Know. I know.” Billy stutters, then takes a deep breath. “That’s all I am to you then, sweetheart? A friend?”

Billy wavers a bit as he speaks, but his words are deadly. Your eyes pop wide open at his words, like Russo has just grown a penis on his forehead. Frank’s mouth forms a silent O.

And just like that, the tension is back.

“Well, of course you are my friend,” you say slowly, stretching out your hand in an attempt to grasp Billy’s wrist. Your eyes are searching his face, but he’s locked, like a goddamn prison cell. “You’re my friend and I love you”.

Wrong answer, if Billy’s expression is anything to judge by as he recoils  from your touch. His face is a mix of disappointment and anger, his lips a thin line as he turns away.

“Fucking idiot,” he mutters under his breath as he turns on his heels and makes a tentative step towards the bar. Only his body is ruled by gin and whatever shit he chased it with, so his feet get mixed up together. Billy trips over his own shoes. 

“Hey, easy there, tiger”, Frank, who’s been standing closer, grips Billy by his arm to help him keep his balance. “What’s gotten into you, man?”

Billy chuckles, throwing his head back, and that has got to be the most bitter sound you have ever heard. You shudder involuntary, watching Russo like a hawk.

“I would have given you the fucking world, you know that?” Billy stares you dead in the eye, grabbing the door handle in front of him. “You just keep fucking with my head like a fucking sadist, and I live by the shit you give me!” you blanch as Billy goes on with the program, hurt dripping from his mouth. “Must have always thought that should be some spectacular pussy you’ve been packing, totally worth all your shit”.

“Bill!” Frank calls him out sharply, his expression terrified. 

But the damage is done. 


Your eyes are brimming with tears, but you stay silent, unblinking. Your chest seems a little caved-in, but you hold your chin high as your trembling lips start to move.

“Fuck you, Russo”, you spit, “Fuck you, friend”.

The next thing he knows, Billy explodes in a fit of bitter laughter - even though all he wants to do is fucking cry.

This just goes to fucking show there’s no such thing as Disney fairytale in real life, is there?

“Oh don’t worry, friend, somebody will,” he promises you, swinging the door to the bar wide open. “Gonna go help Madani fulfil her teenage fantasy. While you can stay here, think about us fucking like rabbits and feel better about yourself”.

With those words thrown over his shoulder, he steps into the crowded bar, the sound of the door shutting behind him sounding final. 

Plot twist. Curtain falls.

Frank can’t even venture a look at you - he doesn’t even hear you breathing.

“He’s just piss off drunk, that’s it. He doesn’t mean it,” Castle attempts to do some damage control, even though he knows that that ship has most definitely sailed.

“Thanks, Frank,” he hears you say quietly, and as he raises his eyes, he catches the sight of you wiping your cheeks quickly.

You inhale slowly, closing your eyes and fisting your hands.

“Tell Karen and the guys I wasn’t feeling so hot, okay?” you ask, and there’s definitely pleading in your voice.

You never plead.

Before Frank can ever mutter anything about Karen having his head if he lets you walk away at night all alone, you wave at him dismissively. 

“I’ll see you”, you say as you collect your hair in a ponytail and walk off, your silhouette soon lost in the bustling New York night.

[stardustdiaries]

Make You Feel My Love

Pairing: Captain Rex x Jedi!Reader

Summary: After you are injured in battle, you and Rex get lost in your emotions.

Warnings: Injuries, blood (little to no descriptions, though!) FLUFF! ANGST? YEAH.

Word Count: 1,916

•••

Never had Rex felt this sort of fear.

You are okay. You are safe. You are healing. He knows this, Kix has been reassuring him time and time again that you would be back on your feet in no time. It still didn’t ease his worries.

It’s been three days since his world almost collapsed. Three days since he felt his heart drop as yours threatened to stop. Three days since he saw your fingers weakly clutch your stomach as blood painted your robes. Rex has seen his brothers die in the heat of battle, their screams of agony have fallen on his ears before and he’s been there to hold many of them as they took their last breath.

But this was different.

Rex loves you. It’s a truth he’s tried to crush under the weight of his boot, but the fact remains the same. It’s been a hard pill to swallow. Both of your codes are restrictive in more ways than one and, truth be told, they were the only thing stopping him from blurting out his feelings for you. His love for you burned in his veins and being there for you— protecting you was the only way for him to give you his love.

Until he couldn’t.

One second you were by his side, thinning out the battalion of battle droids and clearing a way for the 501st and the next, an explosion was set off. And you were within range of the blast.

“General!” Rex called out as he watched your body hit the ground limply. His ears were ringing, the world whizzing by as he barked out orders that his own ears failed to register. He must’ve said something right, though, as his brothers managed to weaken the squadron of Separatist droids. His legs acted on their own, stumbling backwards and in your direction. Upon reaching you, he dropped to his knees.

You were curled into yourself, your face contorted in pain as tears sprang out of your eyes.

“General,” Rex breathed, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized was lodged in his chest when you reacted to his voice. “General, can you walk?” he said firmly, yet you didn’t miss the tinge on concern that laced his words.

“Shrapnel—” you gasped, wincing at the intake of air. White pain rendering you paralyzed, unable to move without choking back a sob. “Took…took some shrapnel t-to my—” you bit back a cry as you tried to uncurl yourself just enough to let the Captain see the wound.

Gently, his hands settled on your shoulders to stop you from moving. “Can’t have you moving too much until someone can determine the extent of the wound—”, a string of curses tumbled out of the Captain’s mouth as his eyes met the pool of crimson that settled around your tense figure. “Kix, the General is down— I need you down here now!” he barked into his comlink, his words sharpened with fear at what would happen if his brother didn’t arrive in time.

Feverishly, he shook the thoughts away. You would be fine. You had to be.

A pained gasp knocked Rex right out of his thoughts, his eyes snapping back down to your trembling figure.

“Stay with me, General,” Rex pleaded, losing the air from his lungs as one of your trembling hands reached out for him. “General…”

You gave his hand a weak squeeze, the lack of your usual strength painfully pulling at his heartstrings. The corners of your lips curled into the smallest of smiles, though he didn’t miss the pain that swam in your eyes.

“It…it takes a lot more…to take me d-down, Rex.” You wheezed, tear tracks fresh on the skin of your cheeks mixing with grime and blood. “D-don't go soft…on me now.”

“Kix, where are you?!” he yelled into his comlink once again, his voice giving out brokenly.

Rex swore his heart stopped when your hand went limp in his.

 “Stay with me?”

Rex freezes in his tracks and turns to you with wide eyes. His heart is racing in his chest and he swallows hard at the lump in his throat. Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion, but he doesn’t miss the silent plead behind them. Your Jedi robes are gone and replaced with sleepwear loose enough to not irritate the stitches that trail over the expanse of your abdomen. The circles under your eyes are sunken, indicating that you haven’t been resting as well as he had hoped.

Rex nods firmly, feeling his heart swell at the sudden light in your eyes. He gently places his helmet by the foot of your bed before he removes the pieces of his armor until he’s in his blacks. Placing a gentle hand on your back and another under your knees, he helps you scoot to the side and find a comfortable spot on the bed. He slides in next to you and you instinctively smile as the bed dips under his weight.

Gently, he pulls your head to his chest and your body relaxes to the rhythm of his steady heartbeat. You snuggle up against him, though he feels you tense up a second before relaxing once again. “Are you comfortable enough? Do you need me to—” He clamps his mouth shut when you press a kiss onto his chest, right above his heart. His hand slowly caresses the top of your head and his lungs expel a deep sigh. “How are you feelin'?” his voice is soft and genuine, though you catch onto the tinge of concern that goes around his words.

A few beats pass before you settle on an answer. “Better,” you sigh. Your fingers slowly trace random patterns and shapes of over his chest, making his stomach fill with butterflies as he revels in the warmth of your touch. “I definitely miss being around the boys, but Fives, Kix and Echo have stopped by a few times.” You smile and when you look up, you see the corners of Rex’s lips curl up as well.

“Yeah, the boys miss ya a whole lot,” Rex chuckles, the sound rumbling beautifully through his chest. “They’ve been beggin' the Force to have you back— apparently training sessions aren’t as fun when you’re not there to make them look like a bunch of Shinnies.” You laugh wholeheartedly at his words, and he greedily lets the sound wash over him and his worries. He relishes being here with you. Feeling your breathing match his own as your heartbeats fell in sync with each other.

“How about you?” Rex’s brows pull together at your words and he looks down at you questioningly. “Me? What…what about me?”

You shift your position until you can look at him in the eyes, a small hiss slipping out of your mouth at the tug of your stitches as you move. Knowing his next moves, you hold out a hand to stop him from fuzzing about your injury. “How are you, Rex?”  There’s a weight behind your words. Love. Care.  Concern.  His lips are pressed together in a thin line as he ponders over an answer. A breath of hesitation rushes past his lips. That’s all you needed to know.

“You’ve been uneasy,” you speak up, your eyes filled with sympathy. “I can sense it weighing you down. Talk to me, Rex."

The blood in his veins runs cold for a moment. His body tenses next to you and you have to cup his face to make his eyes meet your own. You don’t push him to speak, and he silently thanks you with a kiss on the back of your hand. Lowering your head onto his chest, you once again lose yourself to the drumming of his heart. Then he feels it. All the love, the warmth of your heart drowning out his worries, his fears— fears that keep him up at night. And for a moment, he lets himself fall. He falls into these waves of love that drift from your heart to his, letting them cleanse him of every worry that stained him. It overwhelmed him, but he didn’t want it to stop; there was no sensation as beautiful as that of your heart covering him.

“I was afraid,” he gasps softly, his words low and laced with affection. You turn to meet his eyes, your own widening as you notice the tears that race down his face. With the pads of your thumbs, you wipe his tears away and give him an encouraging nod, to which he reacts with a soft curl of his lips. “When I saw you…when you were there, barely hanging on I— I’ve never felt so afraid.” His voice broke and his arms tightened around you slightly, still mindful of your wound. “I couldn’t imagine— I didn’t want to imagine a… a life where…” he curses under his breath before locking his gaze with your own, golden eyes searching yours as he released a trembling breath. “I don’t want a life where you’re not by my side.”

Your forehead was pressed against his and he once again felt your heart open up to him, chasing away the fears of what could’ve been. “You…you died for a second,” he chokes, his body trembling slightly under yours. “I lost you for a moment and— I keep seeing it happen, I—”

You didn’t notice tears were running down your face until you felt his warm hands cup your cheeks to gently wipe them away. You crash into him, stitches be damned, and you wrap your arms around him as he returns the gesture. The rhythm of your hearts keep the pace as the mixture of your quiet sobs fills the air. There was nothing to say. Everything that needed saying  was felt thrumming from his heart to yours. The fear. The grief. The longing. The love. It all crashed over you as silent cries wracked his body and you hiccupped between sobs. Rex breathes shakily as you bury your face on the crook of his neck. His hands soothingly run over the expanse of your back, trying to relieve the tension from your muscles.

“I…I was scared, too,” you mumble against his neck, your breath hot on his skin, eliciting a sigh from his lips. “I couldn’t feel you, Rex.” A sob erupts from the depths of your chest, the broken sound tearing Rex’s heart apart. He pulls back from the embrace, golden eyes locking with your own glimmering ones.

“We’re okay,” he breathes, almost as if trying to reassure himself that you were actually with him— that you are safe and in his arms. “We’re…we’re okay.” Rex repeats, his voice low, barely above a whisper, but firm in its waking.

Rex knows very little about the Force— you had explained it as best as you could to him every time he had a question, but it never stuck with him for long. What he did remember, though, is that just like you can make him experience your emotions through the Force, he could make you feel his own through the same connection.

His eyes search yours one last time before gently pressing a lingering kiss onto your forehead. Pressing his forehead against yours, he once again lets his heart breathe life into what words fail to say. Fear is replaced by security. Grief is drowned out by hope. Longing is outshined by faith.

 And love is all that remains.

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from Grace) Jungkookx OC ( Complete)

Chapter 1

[ Read the rest here : Chapter 8 ( Final)  

]

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other. 

Sweat dotted the edge of my hairline and I felt like my entire body was on fire. I was wet, so fucking wet and the sound of him ramming into me, over and over again was absolutely obscene in the quiet of the bedroom. I was on my back, a thin black tie cutting off my vision and all I could feel was the steady staccato of his dick pounding into me. 

“Oh fuck.. Fuck...Just like that Jungkook fuck....” 

I could barely recognize my own voice. Wrecked and ruined, breathy and almost a whine. 

My shoulders ached from being stretched up, wrists almost numb from the handcuffs that held my body up to the head board. I felt like my shoulders were gonna pop out and I panted, fuming at him internally because he’d done it on purpose, locked the handcuffs a rung higher than usual which meant that I wasn’t lying comfortably on the bed as usual . 

“Look at you.... look so fucking filthy like this angel....” He smirked down at me, fingers like a vice around my waist holding me up and almost off the bed as he pounded into me, each thrust carrying the entire weight of his muscled body. It hurt so bad it felt good. My thighs ached from where they stayed wrapped around his slim waist. 

“Fuck...don’t stop...” I felt my head fall back, the ache in my back intensifying. I was so close....so fucking close, I could feel the heat as it built up, licking its way up my spine,  The angle was perfect, his cock had a slight curve to it when he was fully hard and that just meant that he managed to hit my sweet spot every time he pistoned in. 

And God we’d been at this for so long now... almost a whole damn hour and my senses were frayed, my body so sensitive and wrung out that all I wanted to do was cum. 

So, of course Jungkook being the supreme asshole that he was, chose that moment to stop moving completely. 

My heart jumped to my throat in panic, my body lifting off the bed, chasing friction and his hold on my waist tightened, so much that I was sure he had bruised me. 

“Hmm.... Don’t think you’re in any position to be telling me what to do, baby....” He drawled, voice husky in a way that made my ache worse.

“What- no..wait you fucking asshole ...” I screamed knowing what was coming and refusing to accept it. Fuck i hated him... Fuck Fuck....

He gripped my waist and slid forward again , but instead of sliding in he slotted his cock between my thighs, pulling my legs together so he could fuck into the gap and yes, it was really fucking hot but I was so close....I needed him inside me ......

“Please....Jungkook please don’t...” I begged, dignity forgotten because I was not a fan of delayed gratification. 

“Shush shush.....What’d I say about taking what I give you.....and to be fucking honest, I’m not sure you really like my dick all that much...” He said, sounding thoughtful and my head swam in confusing. What the fuck was he even on about?

“What? Are you kidding me? I let you fuck me almost every damn night why would you-”

“So why’d you go have dinner with Namjoon hyung?” He pinched my nipples', both at the same time, twisting and pulling till I whines, eyes watering enough to soak the silk of his tie. 

“What -- That’s... We’re not fucking dating....I can have dinner with who I want....” I snarled in disbelief, tugging fruitlessly on the handcuffs. Why the fuck had I agreed to this?? 

“Not after cancelling on me, you can’t... And certainly not with my brother, angel..” Jungkook snarled right back and I flinched when I felt his hand come down near my face. For one horrifying moment I thought he was going to slap me but what he did was rip the blindfold off me. Momentarily still blinded, I blinked till he came into focus and felt that familiar and unwelcome swooping sense of attraction. 

Jeon Jungkook with his long midnight hair and ivory skin. Doe eyes that carried entire galaxies in them and those soft, thin lips that smirked at the drop of a hat. 

 Fuck him... Fuck him for being so fucking attractive that my heart stopped every time I saw him. 

He was staring at me and the raging anger on his face really shouldn’t make me wetter but it did. I wanted to sob as my entire body clenched, aching empty and desperate to be filled again. 

“You sent me a fucking dick pic... “ I whined in despair. “ You were literally in the office when I was at dinner with him , how the fuck was I supposed to know you wanted to see me....!!!?” 

Jungkook reached down and began stroking himself and I felt my eyes widen in disbelief. 

“Jungkook....” I warned, feeling the desperation morph into genuine anger now.

“I wanted you to suck me off in my office. Isn’t that part of what my dad pays you for?” He drawled and I felt fury bloom. Jungkook knew just the right words to say, whether he wanted to turn me on or make me feel murderous....  

He scooted forward , straddling my chest and I bucked hard, trying to throw him off but it was fucking impossible. I flinched when he slipped a palm under my head, gripping my hair and yanking my head up till his cock pressed up against my lips.

“You owe me a blow job, princess.....gonna open up?” He gripped my hair harder and the pain made me keen. 

“If you stick your dick in my mouth I will bite it off....” I growled, resisting the urge to thrash because it only made my scalp hurt more. He laughed at that and I stared at him, the pink of his dick right on my lips and for a moment I almost had a pavlovian response to it. Almost opened my mouth and took the hard delicious length of it into my warm mouth. 

Shaking my head just enough to dislodge the head off my lips, I glared at him , my stomach clenching as he stared down at me, wicked dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction and pretty red lips parted in that sexy infuriating smirk of his. He gripped himself harder, groaning as his eyes rolled back a bit at the stimulation. I stared at how his long fingers wrapped around his length , the way he was so shameless in chasing his pleasure. His thumb traced the head, finger dipping lightly into his slit and he moaned, almost shuddering at the sensation. I wanted nothing more to touch myself, at least relieve some of the excruciating pressure between my legs but Jungkook had planned this, had put me in handcuffs fully intending to leave me high and dry . 

I stared at him and he glanced back, his face momentarily open in pleasure, lips spit slicked and parted and tongue poking out as he let out a breathy, ‘ fuck’ and i knew he was close. 

He always looked like a fallen angel when he was close to his orgasm. Fucking beautiful son of a bitch.

But no matter how gorgeous he was, Jeon Jungkook was an incorrigible jerk and I knew exactly what he was gonna do,.

I pursed my lips shut and turned my head away when he came , snarling when the hot wetness coated my face. Jungkook always came like a fucking hose and I could feel globs of it cling to my face, even my fucking eyelashes. 

When I turned back , snarling and ready to unload on him, he was already crawling away, but not before scooping up the last of his release on his fingers and reaching down to grip my cheeks with enough force to get my mouth open.

I whimpered when he stuck his finger in, the familiar taste of his cum only making my body thrum in desperation. I hated him. Hated him so fucking much. 

“Taste good, baby?” He drawled softly, chasing his fingers with his tongue and licking into my mouth, swirling his cum all over my tongue with his. 

“My filthy little slut...” He whispered against my lips, voice tinged with so much feigned fondness that I nearly bit his lip. 

“Take the handcuffs off, you fucker.” I growled, watching as he slipped on his boxer brief and his jeans. I fully intended to grab the vibrator on my desk and get myself off the minute he let me out of the handcuffs. 

And next time.... 

oh, boy next time Jungkook was going to be on his knees begging me to let him cum.... 

He was sweaty and looked like a mess but he never stayed around long enough to even take a shower. Now that I knew I wasn’t getting fucked my attraction for him was gone, replaced by homicidal fury. 

“Hmm.... I’ll think about it.” He shrugged, reaching for the white button down on the floor.

My eyes nearly bugged out.

“What the fuck do you mean you’ll think about it?” I snarled. 

“Your sister told me she’ll be dropping by at around five today..... I’ll leave the key on the dining tanle. She’ll help you out...” He grinned at me wide and I felt my heart drop through my throat. 

I spluttered as he dangled the key tauntingly , whistling as he moved to the door. 

“THAT’S A WHOLE TWO HOURS AWAY JEON JUNGKOOK YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do I even want to know?” My sister stared at me in honest disgust and I knew I must’ve looked a sight , with dried cum all over my face. But i was barely listening to her. I knew exactly what I had to do....Knew exactly what I could do to have Jeon Jungkook frothing at the mouth. 

“Areum? Are you listening..?” She called out when I raced to the bathroom. I quickly turned on the hot water , grabbing a washcloth to scrub at my face. Jungkook was going to regret this. 

When I finished taking a shower, scrubbing myself clean and stepped back out, my sister was airing out the room.

“Mom has been talking about setting you up with people and here you are , whoring around with that Jeon brat....” She rolled her eyes at me but I ignored her, moving to the closet with my lingerie.

My mother had high hopes for me. After blowing through my dad’s entire legacy with her fancy clothes and expensive bags, she was now panicking. She wanted me to marry big and granted, Jeon Jungkook came from a filthy rich family but he was still the prodigal son and his father made it plenty clear that unless he danced to the older man’s tune, he would be out without a penny to his name.  

But that was none of my business. I wasn’t going to marry the dude. I didn’t even  like  him. 

All i really cared about was getting him back for leaving me unsatisfied today. 

 I grabbed the most scandalous piece I had, black and completely sheer. It left absolutely nothing to the imagination and I felt saliva pooling at the back of my throat just thinking about how Jungkook would react to this. The first time I had worn it, he had held me up against the wall and fucked me senseless.  

“Why are you here anyway?” I asked my sister as she began picking up the different pieces of clothing scattered all over the room, dropping them in the laundry basket on her hip. 

“Can’t I just come check on my beautiful baby sister? “ She smiled and I rolled my eyes . 

Hana was the perfect daughter in every way. She was a professional artist, married to the gorgeously successful surgeon, Dr. Kim Seokjin who happened to own the largest hospital in the country. 

And it was hard to hate her because she had endless patience for my shenanigans'. Because to be honest, this wasn’t the first time she had walked in on me lying debauched, courtesy Jeon fucking Jungkook. 

Which brought me to my current mission. 

“Okay. I’m fine. I’m actually on my way out so you can either crash here for a while or you can leave...” i waved dismissively, running to the bathroom to slip the dress on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I rang the door bell again, feeling my body thrum with impatience. Why the fuck wasn’t he answering the damned door? I was wearing simple summer dress. The fastest thing I could take off. 

“Areum?” Namjoon’s surprised face barely registered on my face. He was in his sweatpants with a glass bowl filled with chips and he looked completely thrown by my presence. 

 I shouldered past him, moving to stand in the middle of the living room. 

“Is everything okay? What’s wro-”

I grabbed the hem of the dress pulling it over my head and tossing it away on the couch. 

Namjoon dropped the bowl and if it weren't for the ridiculously thick fur rug underneath us, the thing would have shattered to a million pieces. 

His eyes were wide in disbelief, mouth slack in shock as he stared at me and i could actually see his dick swelling in hi sweatpants as I stood in the completely see through babydoll. 

“Where’s the bedroom?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Fuck, yeah...that feels so fucking good...” Namjoon growled , gripping my waist as I rode him, his thick cock stretching me out so good that I moaned in relief. Stupid fucking Jeon Jungkook.... Namjoon wasn’t bad per se but he didn’t know the nuances of what I liked. Jungkook had this sinful way of rolling his hips up into mine when I rode him and it always made me see stars. But no matter....this wasn’t the main reason I was here. 

“Don’t cum... I want you to come on my face .” I whispered softly and Namjoon shuddered, grip on my waist tightening.

“Fuck..yeah,.yeah,.,.,okay,,.,anything you say.,...” He stuttered.

I reached down to rub my clit because I wanted to cum too and I sighed in sweet blessed relief as my orgasm washed over me, my walls clenching around Namjoon as I rode it out. 

“Fuck, I’m close...” Namjoon whispered and i clambered off him to kneel between his legs.

“Take a picture.” I grabbed my phone and turned on the camera , pressing it into his hands. 

“Wh- What?” His pacing faltered and I didn’t let him think too much , lest he change his mind...

“I want a picture of me choking on your cock , Joon oppa.... A picture with you painting my face with cum..please...please...” I blinked up at him through my wet lashes and I could almost see his mind disintegrating at the visual. 

“ Shit okay.... okay...”

I wrapped my lips around his cock, sucking quickly and taking him in deep, my mind swimming with glee as he clicked away. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming...” Namjoon began and I pulled away, opening my mouth, sticking my tongue out just as he came , making sure I stared straight into the camera as the first few spurts hit me, right across my tongue. I stuck a finger in my mouth, making a show of sucking it and Namjoon groaned, clicking away more pictures.

“Fuck...tell me I can get these pictures...” He moaned and I laughed, crawling up to kiss him. 

“Sure baby.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I called Jungkook first, simply to give him a chance to redeem himself. 

The thing with Namjoon was impulsive and  while i didn’t regret it per se , i didn’t want to drag Namjoon into this without just cause. 

“what the fuck do you want?” Jungkook’s annoyed voice made my hackles rise.

“A fucking apology for starters.” I snarled into the phone. The fucking audacity!!!

“Listen , I’m on the way to Sana’s place.... So I don’t have time for your toddler tantrums. I’m hanging up”

And he actually hung up. 

I stared at the phone, shaking in disbelief.

I quickly flipped through the photos I’d taken , trying to find the one that would make him furious enough to ditch his fuck for the night. Sana? Who the fuck was she anyway>?

I picked the one that was most obscene, you could see my sheer bodice, my nipples and the curve of my breasts, Namjoon’s cock resting against my tongue, spurts of his cum over my tongue and my cheek bones and the highlight- my eyes staring right at the camera in defiance. 

Perfect. 

Nothing riled Jungkook up more than defiance. 

I opened snapchat , sending him the pic. 

I stared at the caption in satisfaction. 

 Your brother tasted better. 

I relaxed against the pillows, glancing at the clock over the door. It was a little past eleven but knowing Jungkook.... he’d be here within the hour. He had a key to my apartment so I locked the bedroom instead. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kim Areum!!!!!!!!” Jungkook’s voice rang through the apartment rousing me from my nap. I blinked groggily and stared at the mirror.

11.25 PM.

I felt a smile creep into my face. A new record. 

The door into my bedroom shook on its hinges as he knocked on it. Hard. I moved to stand close to the door , reveling in the fact that Jungkook was on the other side, likely losing his everloving shit . 

“I’m too tired, Jungkook...your brother really put me through the wringer...” I whined piteously and the knocking stopped.

“Open the motherfucking door, Areum or I’m gonna fuck you so hard its gonna  put you in a fucking wheelchair .....” He growled. 

I smiled. 

“Good night Jungkook. Oh and you better leave soon...my sister is sleeping in the guest bedroom.” 

Ignoring his frustrated snarl , I turned the lights off.

Kim Areum- 1.

Jeon Jungkook -0 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Author’s note : I was just really inspired by that pic of pic of Jungkook in the see through shirt. Lemme know what you thought :-* 

[qslovebot]

Heroes: Spencer Reid

Request: cooould i request a spencer reid x reader where the reader and Spencer are on a car ride? it could be that they are on a case and they have to drive (maybe the jet is broken? or something idk) and it's sunset, they spill feelings and so much fluff? 'With Heroes by David Bowie'

rb: @ellyhotchner

Pairing: Spencer x Fem! Reader

Warnings/Includes: mentions of Spencer's gunshot wound, kissing, fluff.

Spencer Reid chuckled as he crutched toward the SUV parked in the lot. He was a little too fast on crutches for a man who had been shot in the leg. It was a little while since he'd been let back to work and he stupidly lied about being allowed to travel so now, the way for lesser trouble was to have him drive back with another agent and Hotch assigned the dreadful task to you. "Could I at least drive?"

You shook your head as you caught up, "Flex your foot, Reid." He paused, putting his foot out and flexing it. With an immediate intake of breath and wince of pain, you shook your head again. "I will drive."

"Fine," he sighed, tossing you the keys. He paused again sheepishly at his door. "W-would you mind helping me into the car?"

"Yeah, of course, I'm sorry-" you pressed the unlock button and walked to the other side of the car with haste, taking Spencer's crutches and standing still so he could use your arm to stabilize him as he climbed in.

His thin fingers lingered on your upper arm for a second and he blinked a few times before looking up at you through his hair. "Can I choose the music?" He asked it as if it was the most serious question in the world. But he knew what was coming,

"Hell no!" You bat his hands away and darted to the other side whilst Spencer tried to beat you to the radio. He was already in the car, so of course, he beat you to it, but you jumped into the driver's seat and bat his hands away again. "Damn it, Spencer. I won't sit through another four-hour drive of nothing but Simon and Garfunkel!"

"I don't want Simon and Garfunkel!" He protested, his eyes wide. You couldn't stare him down without your heart racing, so you waved your hand in dismissal, starting the car as he fidgeted with the sound system.

Pulling out of the dank, dark of the precinct parking lot, both of you had to shield your eyes from the sun. Staying inside an interrogation room all day, you two were hardly aware it was even day. You checked the car's clock- it was nearing six o'clock.

Late spring, the days were getting longer. Shielding your eyes with the visor, you pulled onto the road. Spencer clicked a button and music began to play. You looked at him, mock-anger in your eyes and hit him in the shoulder, "This is Simon and Garfunkel!"

"Be nice, I was shot!" His voice climbed in pitch. Your hand shot forward and Spencer was faster, so he caught your hand before you could even touch the radio. His hand was cold as ice and his palms were soft. Spencer wouldn't hurt you, so the most he could do would be to stop you from acting. Your heart skipped a beat and the car swerved the slightest bit. His voice was higher now, "Eyes on the road!"

He was lucky he was so gorgeous, it saved him from a lot, but you'd never tell him that. He'd probably use it to his advantage and you had never been good with romantic feelings, so it was best you treated him with... friendly hatred. There was a thin line between working well together and working too well together so you used your friendly hatred to try and hide from the team... maybe a little... well, they're all profilers- it was for peace of mind.

So you let him have his Simon and Garfunkel, but only until you made it to the highway and you moved fast enough to get to the radio.

"-Playing you the top 80s hits all day, every day," the radioman said before the song kicked in. You laughed at Spencer who looked like he just entered hell.

"We grew up in the 80s, don't tell me you don't like 80s music!" You gasped, turning your head back to the road. "Spencer..."

"Actually, studies say the music you listened to in high school is the music you're supposed to like for the rest of your life, meaning for us two, the mid to late nineties."

You nodded, then glanced over again, "But didn't you graduate high school at twelve, boy genius? That would be... 1993?" You recounted his years at school and then your own shortened experiences.

Spencer shook his head, "It's-it's the time period of a typical person's high school years. From when we were... uh- fourteen to about seventeen for us, even with accelerated minds. I listened to Simon and Garfunkel and you were... stuck in the 80s?"

"Probably," you laughed, turning up the music as you continued down the freeway. The sun continued to shine, going from soft natural light and eventually sliding into a deeper shade of orange.

It had already been an hour and a half on the road and you had your hand out the SUV window while the sweet wind blew the left edge of your hair in boundless spirals. Spencer had just finished a long, educational rant about the production of record disks, which you already knew about, but listened anyway. You loved how excited he got to tell you things, his hands flailing about, gesturing to demonstrate ideas and thoughts.

Looking over, he seemed to enjoy feeling the air on his skin and wind in his hair. So you decided to drive onto one of the side roads, surrounded by dusty hills and rising dunes for twenty minutes more, letting him relax without worrying about his head being taken off by a semi. He deserved it, after all, he risked things to come out here.

It was finally your turn to put on the radio and you caught the radioman doing his little talking blurb, this time discussing the topic of summer cottages before the song kicked in.

Heroes by David Bowie. You gasped, "Oh my god, I haven't heard this in ages!" Spencer looked over and smiled a little, ruffling his hair. You didn't notice that smile of his, you were busy going absolutely ballistic over this song that meant so much to you. The song always made you feel oddly limitless and free. You didn't regard his constant admiration for you in the moments when you weren't looking.

You had turned up the music and let your hand out the window do the dancing you couldn't in the car. This song was powerful, beautiful, and your focus was balanced between music and road, not on Spencer, who seemed to be sinking into the beauty of the song as well as the beauty of you.

He always admired your liveliness. You brought out the less analytical, fun, youthful side to him and he really did need that sometimes. Watching you drive, hair blowing, he remembered the lyrics to the song. They may have been locked up in his mind somewhere, but he knew them and watching you enjoy the music so freely, he tapped the window's edge and mumbled along.

You didn't really care about much in those moments, because when you looked over and saw Spencer knew the lyrics, something about that made your heart flutter. The music, the lighting, him. You.

The view out the window was magnificent. Red sand, a dipping ravine and you were overtop of it all. Everything about these moments continued to get better, so you decided to pull over. Just for a minute.

"What are you-" Spencer started, but looking out the window he saw just what you did. You put the car into park, but kept it on, turning up the radio and hopping out. Spencer was able to get out of the car himself and crutched over to where you stood against the SUV door.

♬ We could be heroes, just for one day ♬

Oh, it was so gorgeous you could stay here forever and not need anything else, ever. That was until you turned to Spencer, admiring how he looked on this abandoned roadway, standing in the golden light, shadows cast perfectly over his face. You smiled up at him, time seemingly slowing for all of this to happen. It was an odd notion that the world continued to move when it was just you, him, and David Bowie blasting loudly on the radio.

He was thinking the same thing as he watched the way you shut your eyes for a moment, taking it all in. You didn't want to shut your eyes in fear maybe all of this would disappear. The dream-like lighting and Spencer, looking as if he was sculpted by the most talented artists, just seemed too perfect to really exist there with you.

But you needed to pull it together just for a moment, just to make it seem like you were still there with him, because if you stared too long, maybe you would accidentally fall into said dream.

"Not many views like these in Quantico," you turned to face him and he looked down at you before turning to face you as well. His hands were on his crutches but they looked like they begged to be in his pockets so he could rock on his heels. "It's so beautiful."

"You'r-" he coughed and cleared his throat, brows furrowing as his head turned back to off the ravine. Was he about to- no, you were kidding yourself? There was no way, it was the Bowie. "It is beautiful. E-especially with the lighting."

You nodded, "Mhm. I didn't know you knew any Bowie."

"It was actually Bowie's 12th studio album, released on October 14th, 1977, the only album in the Berlin Trilogy that was actually recorded in Berlin. I... read and listened." He scrunched his nose, probably afraid you wouldn't like him ranting, but you always listened.

You cringed, "I may have already known that."

"Oh, sorr-" he cut himself off when you smiled at him. There was something about this song that made him want to tell you everything he'd ever thought about you from the moment you'd met. Something about the lighting that made you so much more enticing and entirely beautiful. Of course, he already thought you were the most gorgeous person in the world, but right now, you were glowing.

And you were thinking the exact same thing. He was standing less than two feet from you, looking down at you. Tall, beautiful, glowing. He was silent, as were you, but Bowie sang loudly to cover the sound of both of your beating hearts. Your smile faded, but it showed in your eyes.

Spencer looked at his feet while the song took over and he tucked your hair behind your ear without hesitating. You bit the inside of your cheek as he reverted back to where he stood, his straight-lipped smile kind and genuine. His eyelashes fluttered from your eyes to your lips and he was standing there. The feelings were unspoken, but all the same, mutually understood.

So you went to kiss him. It was all you could do and it was all he was wanting, but there was a shooting pain that shot up his leg like fire as he took the step forward, pulled by your hand on his shirt.

"Shit! Ow- my... hm... my leg-" He hissed in pain and you immediately let go. So much for that buildup. You would have kicked yourself mentally if it didn't already look like Spencer had been kicked by ten muscular men on leg day.

You covered your mouth with one hand and gripped his elbow with the other, "Spencer, I am so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking- all of it completely slipped my mind and I am... God, I'm so sorry, can I help?" You launched into random rambling, your heart racing.

Spencer reached up to your shoulder for stability and his head bowed to rest on your other shoulder for a half-second. You let him stabilize himself because he was in pain, but that wasn't his intent. Not a tick more later, his hand moved an inch up higher on your shoulder, then moved to the place between neck and shoulder. His hand continued travelling upward until it was on your cheek.

Taking you much by surprise, as you thought you caused him more pain than he was really in, he pressed his lips to yours as the last chorus hit. He finished what you had failed to properly start and there was no longer any more shame in that mess. His right crutch clattered to the ground and he didn't seem to care at all. His hands held your face firmly as your hand went right back to clutching his shirt, keeping him close as you kissed him back with the same passion.

Golden light, David Bowie, a gorgeous view, an abandoned road, and each other. You may have pinched yourself to check if maybe this was a dream, but it wasn't. Spencer wouldn't stop laughing when the kiss ended- that breathy, happy laugh you always admired. You weren't sure why until he held out his wrist to show you that he had pinched himself as well and you both burst out laughing a little harder than you should have. If this was how the world ended, you would end it in the best possible way, entirely content. But this was far from the end of anything, in fact, it was only the beginning of a whole lot of BAU teasing once they got a hold of the happenings of this road trip.

You gave Spencer a knowing look, scrunching your nose and he was thinking the same thing again.

"Maybe we'll lie to them for a bit?" You suggested, cringing again with a slight smile.

He nodded comprehensively, fighting a returning smile. "Keep this as far from Derek Morgan's hands as possible." He tucked your hair behind your ear again and finally grinned at you before picking up his crutch and letting you help him back into the SUV.

He got to the radio before you did and you gasped in near disbelief. "Spencer, no Simon and Garfunkel!"

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