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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 days ago

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mistletoe

a/n: thanks for helping me distract myself from everything that's happened these past few weeks ৎ୭

polls for the story: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

summary: while spending the holidays for the first time with your boyfriend’s family, you and his stepfather finally snap and a romance ensues.

warnings: boyfriend's stepdad!bucky barnes x reader x peter parker, smut, christmas stuff, major age gap (y/n is a uni student and bucky is in his 40-50's), college au, forbidden romance, cheating, established relationship, bucky has a tattoo sleeve instead of the metal arm, lawyer!bucky, dubcon, the classic "stuck under the bed" trope, clothed x naked, polyamory, threesome, kissing, dirty talk, public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, spit kink, masturbation, mutual masturbation, oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, bondage, blindfold, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 8687

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When you five minutes earlier had snatched up the spare key hidden in the flowerpot on the frosty front porch of your boyfriend’s house, the last thing you’d expected to happen next, once you’d tip-toed inside the vacant abode, was the unfortunate entanglement you found yourself in presently.

Trotting up to Peter’s room, not long passed after you’d set down your bag, your mind scrambling for the best spot to plant yourself in to pose perfectly for the surprise you were about to spring on him, that the phone in your palm tumbled out of your grasp and in the hectic flickering that crackled through your senses, your foot accidentally bumped against the device and sent it soaring under the bed that stood in the middle of the room.

Through the grumbles that swiftly flowed from your lips, you sank down to your knees on the hardwood and twisted your head downward to grant you the perspective needed to spot the still glowing screen in the dusty darkness.

Soon half of your body had disappeared beneath the bed as you stretched an arm up as high as your reach would let you, though as the tip of your tongue peaked out past your lips and you tried to squeeze yourself further into the dark, only a whisper of your touch managed to graze against the phone’s smooth edge.

However, when the bright idea hit you to try and find a long item to help you scoop it closer to you, a sharp sting of resistance met your scalp as you reeled to try and crawl back out.

“Fuck!” you hissed as your right hand soared up to the clump of hair at the crown of your head that had somehow gotten snagged on the underside of the bed frame.

As you continued to yank and tug without prevail, dread slowly began to settle within your being before a creak suddenly found your ears and washed away some of the flickering panic.

“Oh, thank god you’re here!” you squeaked from under the bed at the person in the doorway, presumably the guy whose bed you were trapped under, “baby, I–,” an airy giggle couldn’t help but seep out and filter through your sentence as you said, ��this isn’t how it was supposed to go, I was gonna lay down on your bed or something, all dramatically, and surprise you, but now none of that matters because I’m stuck,” you laughed at your pitiful situation, your bottom barely covered in your short skirt as it wiggled up at him, “Peter, please, just help me out. I wanna kiss you, I haven’t seen you in two months.”

Though your boyfriend didn’t utter a word as the floorboard groaned beneath each of his steps, slowly crossing the room till you felt his presence behind you.

“It’s my hair,” you muttered, your hand still curled up by your head, “I don’t know if there’s like a nail or whatever’s going on under here, but it’s caught on something, and I can’t get it free.”

Gently, you felt his hand reach under the bed till it was gliding up the back of your neck. Slipping your fingers down to his, the skin felt much more rough and calloused than you remembered, though you swiftly shrugged that observation off as you guided his touch up to the imprisoned strand.

As he attempted to break you free, his body couldn’t help but slope down against yours in order to reach your hair, and as you unconsciously wiggled beneath him at every futile attempt, you felt a hardness begin to grow and press up against your ass.

A giggle couldn’t help but slip from your lips as you noticed, “aw, baby. I’ve missed you too,” you rolled your hips and offered him a purposeful grind, “you just gotta get me out of here and then I’ll let you do whatever you want to me… promise…”

But as soon as you’d intentionally rocked back against him, his grasp in your hair began to slacken and melt away till he let his touch travel down the slope of your spine, ghosting across your curves till his fingertips tickled along the bottom hem of your skirt.

His warmth then disappeared from your frame as he sat back further behind you. Ever since you left your dorm room this morning, an excited spot bloomed and decorated your panties in anticipation of your sinful schemes, though now, hours later, the soaked patch that adorned the cotton that poked out from under your skirt, completely visible to the man behind you, had grown to a nearly embarrassing declaration of your desperation.

Slowly and almost hesitantly, he let his touch ghost over your covered core, catching you off guard by the tickling gentleness that your boyfriend hadn’t had to initiate with for the longest time as you’d both grown too comfortable with each other not to simply be bold in your actions, but this felt as if he was touching you for the very first time, as if he thought you were made of the purest porcelain.

A heavy breath shuttered out of your frame as his light touch grazed over your covered core, slowly swiping up and down the drenched gusset. Eyes fluttering shut, you quietly joked, “you watch too much porn,” your words came out sounding hazy as the cliché fantasy got to you too, “if you really want to reenact this genre, then I’d much rather do the version with a washing machine and then just pretend that I’m stuck in there, that’s a much less dusty version, plus I wouldn’t actually be trapped.”

But as his tentative touch kept up, you couldn’t help but tilt back into it and feel yourself sink further into the ecstasy.

Soon his fingers hooked in the sliver of cotton as he tugged the gusset to the side, glistening strings of your want clinging to the fabric as he exposed your cunt to him, and as then his touch brushed over you without any barrier to dull the sensation, a breathy moan tumbled out of your lungs.

Lightly, he rolled your puffy pearl beneath the rough pads of his fingers, the slick sounds of your nectar sloshing and echoing throughout the bedroom as he tickled at your core.

And when his digits stopped resisting the tempting twitch of your entrance and they plugged it up so perfectly it made your toes curl, you soon found yourself moving even more desperately than his own efforts caressed you as you fucked yourself back onto his fingers in a rock so erratic that the movements ended up being your saving grace as your lock of hair pulled free.

A dizzy smile found your lips as you finally regained the ability to shift your head without an excruciating sting ripping at your scalp. Though just before you reached your peak, you twisted your head to glance back over your shoulder. Your eyes swiftly widened and your efforts ceased as the man whose fingers were making your drooling pussy sing wasn’t who you had assumed.

“O-oh fuck!” you quickly scrambled out from under the bed and jolted away out of pure shock as you came face to face with your boyfriend’s stepdad, “Mr Barnes!”

But just as his lips hesitantly parted in a reply, the front door downstairs slammed and caused you to shoot up to your feet, Bucky rising as well. With your chest heaving in your hazy periphery, you could barely think before your palms began to shove at the older man’s broad frame, till he crossed the threshold of the bedroom and his feet began to carry him the rest of the way down the hall till you watched from the doorway as he disappeared into a different room.

And with the soft click of that door closing behind him, the creaking on the grand staircase suddenly ceased and your eyes snapped over to find Peter frozen at the top step.

“Oh my god, babe!” he exclaimed, a wide grin swiftly warming up his features, “what are you doing here?” his feet shuffled towards you before his arms enclosed around your form, “why aren’t you at school? I thought you had exams till next Friday.”

Still in shock as you felt your pussy leak down your thighs, “I managed to get done early,” you tried to mirror your boyfriend’s smile as he pulled back to look at you, “surprise!”

When you last year had found yourself a little internship at the most prestigious law firm in town, it hadn’t come as a surprise to you just how many of the middle-aged men working there shamelessly flirted with you as you brought them their coffees. However, what you hadn’t expected in the slightest was Mr Barnes.

Though his attempts were much more subtle than the rest, they in no way had the same effect on you as they didn’t make you squirm as the others did, but instead every time you tip-toed past his corner office and he so much as offered you a glance, you felt yourself spiral into a blushing mess and morphed into nothing short of a flustered schoolgirl.

Numerous scorching trays of coffee were nearly dropped, sentences embarrassingly stumbled through, as well as many other minor casualties in the carnage created when the lawyer would flash you a rare smile.

But when December rolled around, and you found yourself at the annual holiday party, you should have looked up when you sauntered up to him to wish him a merry Christmas, as the dried twig of mistletoe above was swiftly made more than apparent to the both of you as every inebriated colleague surrounding you both grew rowdy, pressuring you till your lips met one another.

The kiss may have begun as forced and hesitant, but soon it morphed into something much stronger than anything they served at the open bar, causing you both to forget your own names as the buzzing party from around you melted away till it was just the two of you in the office. As the heated kiss broke and you remained incredibly close, blinking back at one another, a heavenly curve found your lips as he gazed down upon you as if he was mere moments away from tossing you over his shoulder and hauling you into his office to have his way with you, not caring one bit about the lack of privacy the fronted glass provided.

But just as your heart swelled in your chest, rumbles in the crowd swiftly broke it into a million tiny little pieces.

“Oh damn! Interns, they’re trouble. Just don’t tell your wife, Barnes! I know you’re new to that whole concept, what–, has it already been a whole month since the wedding?”

“Yeah, here’s a lesson for you,” a different man shouted through his laugh, “what happens at the office, stays at the office! Not really a good idea to take the fun and games back home to the missus.”

You almost quit a whole month before the opportunity was supposed to come to an end but couldn’t, as the mere thought of not seeing his face every day any longer somehow shattered your heart even further.

But one day, as you felt yourself drowning in the torture, Peter, a guy close to your own age showed up in the lobby, waiting for someone he knew at the firm. As his wait drew out and the minutes neared an hour, every ounce of his attention remained glued upon you. In an effort to mend your own heart, you decided that flirting back with him wasn’t the worst method to test out. However, it wasn’t till you began to move on and you actually fell for the sweet guy from the lobby that your world came crumbling down around you.

The first time that Peter had invited you back to his home, as soon as you walked through the door, the truth of the relation between your newly minted boyfriend and the man, who at that time hadn’t been your boss any longer for a few weeks, was instead tossed in your face like a bucket of ice water.

Mr Barnes turned out to be the rich asshole Peter’s mom had fallen for earlier that year, the one he often couldn’t hold his own tongue to grumble about as he hadn’t yet warmed up to the new father figure in his life.

And that was how you got stuck in the bittersweet reality you now lived in. There was no way you could end things with Peter as he was the most wonderful boyfriend you’d ever had and whom you’d genuinely grown to love. But that wasn’t the only reason why you couldn’t do it, since if you were to let him go, then you would also have to let go of Mr Barnes, even if he was just a harrowing haunting of a hopeless dream.

The house was completely silent as every soul within it slumbered, everyone except for you as plain beige wrapping paper crackled gently beneath the silk bow you tightened over it. You’d slipped into an office, that stood on the opposite side of the upstairs to where the cluster of bedrooms were, to secretly wrap up the handful of gifts you��d hidden at the very bottom of the bag you’d brought with you.

Though just as you sliced a pair of scissors through the paper to cut off a piece for the last present, a small bump suddenly echoed throughout the dark home.

Getting up from your makeshift workstation on the floor, you peeked out into the dim hallway. Your slow steps caused the floorboards to groan as you took a look around, even casting a glance down the staircase to the entryway that bloomed below, before the noise found your ears once more, snapping your attention to somewhere deeper down one of the shadowy corridors.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you crept closer to the latch you now noticed was open. Ladder unfurled, the abyss of the attic loomed above you and sent a shiver down your spine.

But then as a broad figure suddenly appeared in the opening, you couldn’t help but let out a shuttering yelp, even after you’d recognised the man whom your sudden shriek startled.

“Mr Barnes!” your palm soared up to your pounding heart, “I thought you were a ghost or a burglar or something! What in the world are you doing up there?”

Ascending the ladder, you noticed the heavy box he balanced in his arms, “I was just getting some decorations for the tree,” he huffed as you caught your breath, reminding you of the still bare pine tree that stood down in the living room.

“Right, I forgot that’s the plan for tomorrow,” you murmured as you spun around on your heel. Though as you entered the office once more, a glance over your shoulder led you to discover his shadow, “what are you doing?” you asked in a small voice as he followed you into the room.

“This is my study,” he tilted his head as if that was common knowledge.

“Oh,” you breathed, “I didn’t know,” and glanced down at the gifts you’d left on the floor, “sorry, I’ll go somewhere else.”

But just as you bent down to gather up your supplies, his deep voice crackled from behind you, “no need, make yourself at home,” he sat down the box before rummaging through it, taking out a few of the delicate ornaments before only tangles of twinkle lights were visible in the container, “I’ll only be a second.”

Kneeling down beside the electrical socket closet to the door, he then began to check all of the lights, one by one, making sure none of the tiny bulbs were dead.

And as you returned your hazy attention to the last of your remaining gifts, Mr Barnes then once again filled the silent office with his low tone, “…look, I–…” he hesitantly started, keeping his ocean stare glued to the ground, “you deserve an apology,” he exhaled heavily, “I don’t know what came over me earlier. It was wrong, completely inappropriate, and I can’t believe I let it happen.”

Blinking up at him as he refused to lift his gaze, a quiet, “oh…” shuttered out past your lips as his apology only broke your heart further. It, of course, hadn’t been ideal the way that he’d taken advantage of the unfortunate situation he’d found you in, but that doesn’t mean it hadn’t been a dream come true for you, complicated as it may have been.

“Kiddo,” he sighed, “I understand completely if you don’t wanna spend Christmas here anymore. You just say the word, and I’ll make the arrangements for you to go back home.”

“Is that what you want?” you heard yourself utter, “for me to go?”

Finally meeting your gaze, a crinkle found his dark brows, “…what I want can only cause harm…”

As you lost yourself in the ocean of his blue eyes, you whispered almost dreamily, “…do you still remember?” you felt your lips tingle at the memory as you slowly rose back up to your feet, “because up till today I had convinced myself that you were too drunk that night to recall…”

Shifting his gaze, Bucky then let out an exhale, “kid…” the single syllable carrying a gentle whisp of warning.

“Or is it just normal for you to kiss interns under the mistletoe,” you couldn’t help but go on, “especially like that?”

“No,” he finally murmured as his head found a slow rock from side to side, “it isn’t,” though swiftly met your stare to caution, “and I’d hold my tongue if I were you before you say something that you shouldn’t.”

“Like what?” you breathed, “the truth?”

“Stop,” he squeezed his eyes shut as his head faintly shook, “you’re my stepson’s girlfriend.”

“That’s true…” you averted your gaze to where your fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, “but he wasn’t the one that I fell for first… the one that I still can’t seem to get over…”

Your eyes then found one another for a split moment, locking with each other for a single breath before Bucky’s feet began to shift and he crossed the room. Catching your face in his wide palms, he then crashed his lips against your own.

Your heels instinctively levitated off the ground, lifting you up closer to his towering height as he kissed you like he’d just come home from some mystical war.

A sigh softly seeped out of your nose and tickled the grey that speckled his beard as you felt his starved tongue silkily sweep against your own.

But just as the intoxicating taste of him weakened your knees, he tilted his chin and cut the kiss short. Blinking up at him as he kept your jaw in his grasp, you breathed, “Mr Barnes–”

“What the fuck am I doing–,” a faint whisper seeped through his sigh, “I’m going to hell for this…”

“So then stop,” the sound of your small voice beckoned his gaze to find your own, “if you don’t want me the way that I want you,” your fingers tangled in his tie, “just stop and go back to bed with your wife…”

“…I didn’t–…” he hesitantly began, “I didn’t expect to meet someone like you, especially not right after I’d gotten married,” his eyes stayed locked with your own, “I thought I’d finally figured it all out, and then there you were, all fresh-faced, sticking out like a sore thumb among all the suits…” the corner of his lips briefly twitched into a faint smile at the memory, “you turned my world upside down,” his fingers on the side of your face flexed gently as he uttered that declaration, “after you stopped working there, I–… I damn near almost quit myself… but then Peter brought back his new girl, and seeing you again, even if it was just a glimpse every once and a while, it was like I could breathe again.”

Blinking up at him, dizzy from his honied words, your fingers tangled in his tie, then tightened, and you tugged him far enough down for your lips to lock once again.

Swiftly, his feet began to absentmindedly shuffle till your hips bumped into the edge of the polished desk that stood in the middle of the office. The bundle of forgotten Christmas lights were still glowing on the floor by the ajar door as your boyfriend’s stepfather let his broad hands scoop down over your body and pluck you up to sit on the table.

It was the hold that you still had around the silky accessory knotted around his neck that caused him to slot in between your parted thighs, just a little tug was all it took for your knees to be needily grazing against his sides. Pulling on the tie, your lips didn’t stray from one another’s for but a moment as you undid the knot, let the fabric slip out from under his collar and tumble down onto the floor below.

Though when his smouldering touches finally came to ignite against the softness of your tits through your sweater, a whimper tumbled out of your lungs and melted against his tongue, only narrowly getting muffled by his kiss as the sound threatened to fill up the entire room.

“Shh,” he barely withdrew to hush, only tilted his head to catch a different angle before he dove back into your sweetness.

“Sorry,” your murmur swiftly got swallowed by his pecks.

But when his hands continued to rake across your form, making you feel like a flicking star that shot across the night sky, as his grip came down to dent your ass, it wasn’t just a soft whine that crawled up your throat, but a full on moan, as the manner he’d squeezed your curve had sent a tingling bolt straight to your throbbing clit.

“You gotta be quiet.”

“Shit,” you cursed as you heard it yourself, “sorry, sorry.”

This time you truly did try to keep your mouth shut, consciously biting your tongue as his burning hands nearly singed the clothes from your frame, but when his palm eventually snuck up the short hem of your skirt and slipped off the soaked panties that clung to your core, the sound that forced its way out of your body when his touch finally grazed through your dripping folds echoed into the night.

And as soon as the moan tumbled off your lips, Bucky’s hand rapidly vanished from between your quaking thighs as he took a large step back.

“You’re killing me here,” he groaned as he reached the opposite side of the room to plant his inked palm against the open door, shutting it as he leaned his weight into it, “you’ll wake up the whole house,” the fingers still clutching your underwear caught the lock and flicked it to the side.

“I’m sorry,” you dug your nails into the polished wood you were balanced on, “I swear I’m trying to be quiet, I really am.”

“Well, not good enough,” he glanced back over his shoulder at where you sat before his vision flickered down to land upon the ribbon only half tied around the last of the presents you’d wrapped. His expression then softened as he slowly picked his stride up once more, “…but, I think I might be able to help…” on his way to where you were seated, he bent down to snatch up the loose strand still not fastened around the wrapped box, and when he stood before you once again, Bucky’s gaze fluttered to your mouth as he then uttered, “open up,” before you parted your lips for him. Your eyes swiftly grew as he first fed you the cotton of your panties before he wrapped the emerald silk ribbon around the stuffed opening and tied it off at the back of your head, “there,” he purred as he pulled on the small bow at the nape of your neck, “that’ll shut you up. Now where were we? Right! It was somewhere around here,” his word was emphasised by his touch as it slipped back up under your skirt, though this time when the broad pads of his fingers slipped through your glistening petals, your purrs were completely muffled against the makeshift gag.

As his touch tickled at your core and caused your legs to quiver at either side of him, his face stayed close to your own, nose denting your hot cheek as his breath fanned against your skin. He even stayed that close as he began to strip you of your clothing, tossing it all to the floor till you were sitting before him wearing nothing but the bow he’d tied himself to keep you quiet.

Though as you shifted to mirror his actions, he stopped you just as you caught onto the zipper of his pants.

“Na-ah-ah, kid,” he backed up just enough for the palpable tent in his trousers to disappear from your palm’s reach, “keep your hands to yourself. Be good, and then you’ll get your present.”

However, his whispered warning didn’t sink into your senses enough as barely any time passed before you stopped fighting the urge to touch him again.

“What,” his chuckle washed over you as he captured your gaze, “don’t tell me you need to be tied up too?”

That notion sent a shiver down your spine before a smile poked out behind your gag as you playfully shrugged, your apparent approval causing Bucky’s light laugh to reappear in a second wave.

Spinning around, the older man before you then grabbed the cord of glowing lights on the floor before stringing it along to where you were planted. First, he wrapped the vibrant strand of tiny bulbs around your wrists, tying them together in front of your body, before he tangled the remainder of the length around your torso, over your arms and all the way down to your waist.

As he took a step back to admire his handiwork, that’s when he finally freed his dick, letting it spring forth from his pants as his stare licked up your bound visage. The strokes he swiftly offered himself were long and slow, making you press your thighs together as you watched, a yearnful whine vibrating against the cotton stuffing up your mouth.

“Aw, do you want my cock?” he mocked as your constricted fingers instinctively tried to reach out for him. Closing the gap between you once again, with one hand, he scooped you closer to both the edge as well as the throbbing girth heavy in his palm, “you want this dick, huh?” he smirked before brushing the bulbous head through the drooling mess between your thighs.

Your eyes fluttered as he nuzzled his hardness against your buzzing clit, though he somehow kept your stare captured in the intenseness of his own as he dragged the tip through your petals, making them part for him. It seemed like ages that he went between teasing your leaky entrance to sweeping up and flicking at your puffy pearl, though gradually each time he’d near your little hole, crying out for him to sink into, he dipped inside just a tiny bit, each time granting you more of his length till his heavy balls were nuzzled against your slick skin.

His lips pressed against your cheek, kissing it softly as his girth split you open. A slick symphony echoed throughout the room each time his hips slammed against your own, and as your own cries were hushed, it was only the sinful sound of that, as well as Mr Barnes’ heavy breath and the occasional suppressed groans, that filled the office and lulled you into nothing short of a trance.

With Bucky’s left hand that he had weaved into a clutch at the twinkle lights tangled at your front, the colourful glow illuminated the dark tattoos that marked up the back of it and caught your hazy gaze as he then tipped you over and layed you back down against the desk, his ruthless rhythm never faulting for a second.

And as you layed there before him, the both of you creeping ever near to that inevitable end, you watched as his eyes drifted down your frame. From where the string of lights squished against the softness of your boobs, to where he spread your thighs apart further, letting him spot just how perfectly his fat girth sank into you, till finally settling on the dull bulge just above your glistening pussy. The imprint of his daunting size rocking within you, illuminated just sufficiently enough by the string of glimmering lights for his eyes to spot, bloomed a bright grin on his features and caused his hips to snap, feverously slamming his cock so deep inside of you that the tightly wound coil within you had no other choice but just to let go in a burst of vibrant hues.

Once his length was throbbing inside of you and pumping you full of his cum, breathlessly he removed the gag, though barely let you fill your lungs with air before he locked his lips against your own, both of your smiles blurring the kiss with giggles as you made out sweetly.

As Peter’s figure appeared behind you in the doorway to the little bathroom that shot off his room, his frame abrupted the bright morning light that streamed in through the window.

Still only clad in a borrowed shirt, the hem rose up as you bent down over the sink to spit out the toothpaste foaming in your mouth, but just as you did, a quiet click revealed your boyfriend’s presence behind you.

Peeking over your shoulder, you spotted the Polaroid camera, that you’d remembered to bring from your dorm room, firm in his grasp.

“What are you doing?” you muttered as you rinsed off your toothbrush.

“Just growing my collection,” he smiled, leaning against the doorframe as he wafted the small photo the camera had spit out.

“Hey, I brought that for capturing memories,” you snatched it back as you passed him, “not using all the film for nudes,” before bending down and stuffing it back into your bag.

The lump of guilt that ached in your chest nearly persuaded you to spill everything to Peter long before you both got dressed and descended the stairs.

Should you even tell him what had happened and hope for the best or had you just backed yourself into a corner so impossible that you had no other choice but to break things off with him? If that truly was so, then you couldn’t do it yet, not now, at least wait until January if that was the only option.

Though as soon as you both entered the kitchen, the visage of Bucky fiddling with the coffee machine caused the unbearable knot to slowly melt away the longer that you gazed at him.

“Hi Honey,” Peter’s mother came sauntering in from the dining room and flashed her son a smile before diving into a drawer for some cutlery on her mission to set up the breakfast table, “did you two sleep well last night?”

“Yeah, I was out like a light,” your boyfriend uttered before his glance flickered to you, “this one however didn’t come to bed till really late.”

“Oh, did you have trouble falling asleep?” his mom found your eye.

“Uhm, no,” your glance momentarily flickered to the broad back before the coffee machine, “I just–, uh, I was wrapping presents. Hope it’s okay that I borrowed some paper and stuff.”

“Of course,” she smiled, “if you want a caffeine boost, there’s a fresh pot of coffee,” and nodded in the direction of her husband, “and the mugs are up there.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I’m actually more of a tea drinker.”

“Well, we have some of that as well,” she tilted her head before crossing into the dining room once again, “take a look in the pantry.”

Slipping down the narrow path between the central kitchen island and the line of counters, your body brushed against Bucky’s as you passed before crossing into the small storage room. Though as your gaze scanned the stocked shelves before you, a crinkle found your brow.

“Wait, where is it?” your quiet voice seeped out of the pantry.

“Up over the shelf where the cans are,” Peter tried to guide you before his stepfather shot him a glance.

“I’ll help,” he murmured, “she’s probably too short to reach it anyway.”

You didn’t even have to peek over your shoulder to find out he was there as just the warmth of his presence radiating off of him was enough to cause your eyes to flutter closed and your lungs to be filled with a deep breath. Though when he pressed his wide frame against your spine, his low exhale seeping into your soul, a dull throb between your thighs bloomed as an underlying beat to his palms he then let glide over your waist before one shot up to tilt your chin and he craned his neck to plant a kiss to your lips.

“Did you find it?” Peter’s voice from on the other side of the thin wall caused you to fumble away from his stepdad, nearly knocking over half the contents on one of the shelves at the jolt.

“Yep! Yeah!” you squeaked, scrambling before Bucky reached above you, plucked a small box off a shelf, and placed the random tea in your fumbling hands, “I’ve–, uhm, yeah!” before you shuffled back out into the kitchen, “water, water…” you murmured as your eyes scanned the space.

“Over there,” your boyfriend nodded to the electric kettle in the corner before he carried the stack of plates in his hands into the dining room.

And as you boiled the water and brewed the tea, every chance Mr Barnes got to follow his heart, he grasped with both of his fists. If the others had momentarily stepped out of the room, or even if they’d just turned to face away, there he was at your side, suddenly much closer than what was appropriate for a parental figure of one’s partner to be. If he had the time, his touch would sneak down to tickle you over your clothes, or occasionally his lips would even find your neck and make you too dizzy to even care how risky his behaviour was.

It even continued long after you’d joined the rest at the dining table as the last two seats remaining were slotted right next to one another, though this time, now that he had the table as a cover, the cocky bastard let his hand grow even more daring than before.

When his touch teasingly travelled up your thigh before boldly darting straight to his goal and making you nearly choke on your herbal tea as he pressed down on the seam of your jeans, rubbing your throbbing clit through the rough fabric.

“Are you alright?” Peter’s mother cut off what she’d been blabbering about as you almost spit out the hot beverage.

“Mhm,” you hastily nodded, attempting to keep a straight face as Bucky’s inked fingers kept up their bullying between your thighs, “just burned my tongue,” the mug met the table in a soft thunk, “I’m fine,” you breathed shakily and kept your gaze glued to the piece of toast on the plate before you.

“Oh, well, blow on it next time,” she said before returning to the topic the secrets beneath the breakfast table had interrupted, “so, what do we think,” she sank her fork into a piece of orange, “should we head off to the Christmas market today or do that a different day?”

The scent of warm spices wafted through the air from the cluster of booths, selling every scrumptious festive treat imaginable, right next to the windy entrance to a pen where children could ride some sturdy ponies from a local farm.

“What if we all split up for a while?” Peter’s mother suggested as you all eyed the handcrafted goods displayed by the many snow-dusted stalls, “I know I may or may not have already spotted a few things I wanna buy in secret.”

“Good idea,” your boyfriend nodded as he let go of your mitten-clad hand, “should we meet back here in, what–, half an hour?” he gestured up to the grand Christmas tree, glowing in the centre of the market.

“Sure,” Bucky’s voice rumbled, “then we can grab a bite afterwards.”

His stolen touches hadn’t become less bold after you’d left the house. From purposefully letting his palm graze against your boob when he’d helped you reach for your seatbelt in the car, to the numerous times at the market he’d yanked you around the corner of a rustic booth to steal a kiss.

“You know,” Bucky’s voice suddenly tickled the shell of your ear as he found you standing before the line of small children, all waiting for a chance to meet the market’s Santa, “when I get you alone,” he whispered as your eyes lingered on the elderly man in the distance, all clad in red, “you can sit down on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas…”

“Oh yeah?” the corners of your lips tipped up into a smile, “will you also ask me if I’ve been naughty or nice?”

“Well, I already know the answer to that,” he chuckled before twisting you around to face him.

The gentle giggle that billowed out from your lungs was swiftly silenced as the older man bent down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Wait,” you suddenly pushed him back as the exposed nature of where you stood sank in, “not here,” and your eyes swiftly darted around the crowd in hopes that they wouldn’t land on anyone you knew, “someone might see.”

Snatching up his hand, you then tugged him with you as you crossed over the small square. Passing by a small ice-skating rink, your snow-crunching steps eventually led you into the maze-like wonder that was the Christmas tree lot.

Soon, the make-out that blossomed between the dense pines snowballed into you on your knees, on the cold and needle-covered ground, with Bucky’s girth twitching in your grasp as you tilted your head to plant a sloppy trail of pecks down his heavy balls.

If he hadn’t riled you up all morning, then you probably wouldn’t have desperately kneeled down before him in the middle of a crowded space, just because he’d made your brain melt so fiercely that your mouth itched to be used. That or perhaps you would still have found your way here on your own if he hadn’t given you a push, after all, it had been you who had simply told him to be on lookout before you snatched off one mitten, sank down in front of him and, without any further warning, freed his fat cock.

As you let go of his sack with a pop, before you could crane back up to swallow his length, Bucky briefly bent down to steal a sloppy kiss before letting you get back to it, though when he broke the peck, a string of saliva keeping you connected a moment as he straightened back up, a soft frown tainted your features as you blinked up at him.

“You stole all my spit,” you pouted as his lavish tongue had managed to lick up most of the gathered slickness you’d wished to glisten up his dick with.

“Sorry,” a soft chuckle rumbled within his broad chest as he bowed down to grasp your chin. Prying your lips apart, he then let a dollop of his own saliva drop down and land upon your silky tongue.

A gentle smile tugged at your lips as they wrapped around his thick girth. Marvelling up at him as you found a playful pace, he only granted himself a rare peek between his neck twisting from side to side, vigilantly keeping an eye out as you sucked him off.

“Fuck,” he groaned as your drool gurgled up your bobbing. Lips ever parted, his fingers sneaked down to tangle themselves in your hair, “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” he slowly brought your head back till only the tip stayed warm within your mouth, “though knowing you, you probably wouldn’t even pause if someone actually did wander this way,” a short hiss of pleasure flowed out of his lungs as your tongue silkily traced the bulbous head, “even if it was your little boyfriend, you’d probably just yank down his fly so you could choke on his cock as well…”

Squinting up at the dried orange slices strung up and decorating the living room window, you let out a contemplating hum before it morphed into an idea, “we could watch a movie?”

“Ah,” Peter exhaled next to you on the couch, “I don’t know… what if we went for a walk? It just stopped snowing.”

“No, I don’t really have the energy left for that,” you shrugged, “plus it’ll be dark soon… I kinda just wanna take it easy the rest of today and eat as many of those cookies your mom’s baking while they’re still hot.”

Glancing over his shoulder at the doorway leading into the kitchen, Peter then nodded, “alright, sure. We could put on some music or something.”

“Uh!” an idea then stuck you and lit up your gaze, “and we could play a board game, or even better, do a jigsaw puzzle! Do you think you have one?” your body tilted a bit closer, “you have one, right?”

“I think we have more than one,” he cocked his head and got up from the couch, “how hard do you want it?”

“Pretty hard, but also not like impossible,” you breathed, “it would be nice if we finished it before the new year.”

“Alright, I’ll go find one,” his feet began to drag across the hardwood floor, “you go gather provisions. I think I just heard the timer in the kitchen go off.”

A gasp swiftly flowed out of you as you rushed to rise to your feet, “cookies!” before you darted along, leaving Peter to a soft chuckle as he went out into the entryway and popped open the large closet.

Though as he slipped inside and shifted to switch on the lightbulb dangling above, near the top shelf that carried all of the games, his elbow collided with a few of the coats on the row of hangings off to the side, unfortunately knocking some of them to the ground. Among the casualties were both yours as well as Bucky’s, though when the jackets came tumbling down, a few items also came pouring out of the pockets.

Glancing down at the polaroids at his feet, even though the backsides were staring up at him, Peter still assumed that they’d fallen out of your pocket. Plucking them up into his grasp, a smirk swiftly curved his lips as he flipped over the short stack to reveal the familiar visage of your nude form. And the deeper into the small pile he got, the more explicit they became.

But when he reached one that captured you lying on your stomach and with your lips wrapped around a cock, the smile swiftly faded from his features as he caught sight of the hand that reached down from behind the camera to stroke your hair. His hand certainly didn’t have either a wedding ring nor a chillingly familiar tattooed pattern scrawled upon the skin.

And as he shuffled the deck to reveal the last photo, his suspicions were confirmed as he was confronted with the visage of his stepfather railing you against the sink in the upstairs bathroom. The camera was in his one hand as he held your hazy gaze in the mirror, while the other one curved around to capture your tit, the soft peak decorated in droplets as you stuck out your tongue and let your drool drip down.

And though confusion, rage and jealousy were the cocktail of emotions to first take over his body, the palpable tent in his jeans beckoned for his attention too and convinced him to take care of it, blindly pumping his dick till his load coated the photos in his palm.

“Fuck…” he hissed as his stare stayed glued to the cum covered pictures, “…I guess I’ll need to have a little talk with my stepdad…”

“The whole house all to ourselves… however shall we pass the time?”

Your giggle bounced off the kitchen tile as you hopped up to sit upon one of the counters, only moments after both Peter and his mother had driven off to do some last-minute holiday shopping.

Leaning back against the kitchen island, Bucky crossed his arms over his burly chest and smiled, “I have a feeling that we’ll think of something to do.”

And that was how you ended up moaning on either sides of the kitchen.

Though he only loosened his tie, popped open the first few buttons of his shirt and undid his belt to free his cock, you tore off everything except for the red lingerie your clothes unwrapped for him to see and led him to beg for the sheer mesh to stay clinging on your skin while you let your fingertips dip into the waistband.

But before either of you could finish, the older man snatched you off the counter and hauled you into the living room.

And as you both stood there, his arms around you keeping your dizzy form upright as he kissed you feverishly, his head then tilted back, a blooming smirk on his lips, before he uttered, “I have an idea…”

The idea in question involved his silky tie being secured over your eyes, a proposal you of course jumped at to outlive.

Though as you stood there, one of your senses dulled as Bucky’s touch fluttered across your form, the smattering of pecks and caresses had you floating away to some far-off realm. In the blissful fog of it all, you lost track of his touch and swore on occasion that it didn’t add up, as sporadic kisses were planted in places not plausible from where you thought he stood, or his wide hands even seemed as if they weren’t just one pair.

And as you tried to connect the dots, your fingers fluttered up to push the makeshift blindfold up to your forehead, and the visage that met your eyes promptly caused them to grow wide.

“Peter!” you gasped as you came face to face with not only Bucky, but also your boyfriend, “I–, I–”

“Hey babe,” he simply breathed as both his own and his stepfather’s touch faded from your half-naked form.

“Peter,” your heart hammered in your chest as tears began to blur your vision, “I am so so sorry. I–, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh yeah? So you’re not sneaking around with my stepdad behind my back?” he kept your gaze captured in his, “baby, it’s–,” a sigh broke up his sentence, “I was about to say that it’s alright, but–,” a dry chuckle then bubbled out of his throat as it obviously wasn’t okay, before he then shook his head and got to the point, “we had a little chat, Bucky and I.”

“…you did?” you finally shifted your glance and let it flicker to Mr Barnes.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “we came up with a little arrangement so that we’d all get what we want.”

“So now all you gotta do is just tell the truth,” Peter’s fingers floated up to tug a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “did you just use me to get to him? Was anything about our relationship real?” he asked in a soft and sombre tone.

“It was, it is,” you swore as you raised up your own palm to graze over his that still lingers by your jaw, “I may have lied to you about certain things, but my feelings for you were never one of them.”

“Okay…” your boyfriend’s head slowly began to rock in a nod. As he let you lace your fingers in with his own, another question left his lips, “so, do you think that heart of yours is big enough for the both of us?”

Your vision then widened before it shifted between both of the men standing before you, “…are you suggesting–”

“Only if you want to,” Bucky tilted his head and awaited your answer.

“I–,” you gasped as a grin slowly grew upon your lips, “oh my god!” and an uncontrollable laughter bubbled out of you.

“Is that a yes?” Peter asked, his hand still in yours.

“Yes! Yes, of course, it is!” you beamed before throwing your arms around him and crashing your lips against his own, only moments before you shifted to mirror the action with the older man still by your other side.

And as the kiss you pressed to Bucky’s lips stretched and drew out, it suddenly broke when he abruptly tossed you down to lay across the plush couch behind you. As he slotted in between your parted thighs and clutched the red mesh to the side in order to finally grant himself some of the sugar you’d teased him with moments before, your head sloped over the armrest before Peter appeared above you and bent down to claim your lips in a kiss to muffle the whine that flowed from them just as his stepdad stretched your open.

Momentarily, Bucky plucked your hips up off the couch and drove them to meet his own, fucking you like a toy, before he let you drop back down and joined you on the sofa.

And as the older man between your thighs spread them wider and granted himself the perfect view of how his staggering girth disappeared in your fluttering pussy, your boyfriend above you slid a hand under your head and tilted it closer to the length throbbing in his fist.

Tapping his cock against your moan, it didn’t take long before he was buried in your mouth, each greedy thrust bringing him further down your throat till the imprint of his cock bulged in your neck.

“That’s impressive,” Bucky commented on the way the younger man fucked your face, “why haven’t you shown me that party trick yet?” he hummed as Peter roughly yanked his dick back out and granted you the chance to catch your breath.

Seizing the moment, Bucky flipped you around before your mouth could be filled once again, tossing you onto your knees and letting your forearms crash to the armrest, your head nearly falling face-first into Peter’s lap, lending him to catch you as he flashed the man behind you a grin, “you know that she does anal too, right?”

A low groan then flowed from Bucky’s lungs as he let his broad thumb sweep across your little rosebud, “does she now…”

“Yep,” Peter grunted proudly, “she might even let us fuck both of her pretty holes at once if we’re real nice. She’s let me do that before with toys.”

“Of course she has,” Bucky chuckled lowly as he eased his fat cock back inside, “what do you say, kid? It is Christmas after all, I think we deserve something special.”

“I–, uhm,” you tried your best to answer him through the ecstasy they tossed you into, “sure.”

“Attagirl,” Bucky croaked as his heavy balls tapped messily against your puffy pearl, “do you wanna pick who gets what honour?”

But before you could squeak out an answer, Peter instead uttered, “or we could make it a game, let you try and guess,” as his touch travelled up to tug at the blindfold still resting atop your brow.

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tulipq · 1 day ago

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No one ever states the whole concept of the ship of Theseus. This shit is too fucking long winded. I hope you are all ready for this shit. At least I will use text you can copy paste around!

The full problem with the ship of Theseus is meant to be like a koan that gives you an insight into the unstable nature of identity. That's how I read it. I just wanted to state my current conclusion first, because you can't refute me if you don't know where I am going with this.

My answer is that neither is the original ship. The ship ceased to be itself in the original sense every moment and is actually "close enough to be felt the same by humans at the time" instead of being itself. Identity is unstable. A does not equal A because the notion of A is as a flickering flame in the eyes of its beholder.

Anyway, I am going to cheat in order to make things in a certain way. I will make it clear when this is cheating and not just clever storytelling.

We witness:

A boat maker, and he makes a boat. He also travels with the boat and he keeps replacing parts along the way because wooden boats are like this. He has a little barge or something that he stores all of the cast off part of the boat.

Suppose he is the last original crew member to die. He and his complete boat of boat parts get taken to the cemetery where all of the other original crew members.

Then Persephone notices she has the complete set of one of her favorite little adventuring groups that the muses sing about. She gives them all new lives and even magics the boat parts to be young and unworked material because fuck you this is a greek philosophy parable, I have decided to fuck with how time works. You can tell a version where that does not happen in your response.

Then the ship builder makes the ship parts into the original shape of the ship.

This is completed just as the current crew of the ship, the builder's body road to the graveyard in shows up to bury someone who was not part of the crew when it first departed.

Which ship is the original ship which the builder made? Is it the one with the builder, the crew, and the material that first left in the very same condition as when they left, or is it the one which has experienced all of the changes that happened since it first departed?

If the builder says he believes for sure the answer opposite yours, do you care about that? I do not.

#effortpost #philosophy

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wisecura · 3 days ago

Text

Sweeter (NSFW)

SatoSugu x f!Reader p.2 - 4k (all for the fuckin' smut)

summary: THE PWP FOR: entering high school only to be met with the two hottest strongest sorcerers of your generation was not something you were prepared for. so, what happens when they take a strange liking to their cute, sheltered underclassman?

an: man I'm getting some good practice for writing smut. I hope it's as coherent as my tired brain thought it was. loosely proofread, so please enjoy-

MINORS DNI AFTER HERE

warnings: do not read if you are sensitive to dubcon, or any kind of dark fic topics, small age gap (not even mentioned, they're past high school), arranged marriage, poly relationship, possessive undertones, manipulative undertones, manipulative, some gaslighting, Dom-Suguru, pussydrunk, creampie cleanup, breeding kink, virgin reader that somehow knows how to deepthroat a large cock (with minimal instructions-first try!), if they sound mean-i'm sorry, immature (sheltered) reader,

did you want to read it again?

The wedding was straight out of a fairytale, bathed in the rich, traditional colors that only added to the day’s dreamlike quality.

There he was—Satoru, the man you were about to call your husband.

Each time you glanced at him, dressed sharply, standing poised and perfect, it took your breath away. Marrying the most sought-after bachelor around, a man wrapped in prestige, wealth, and unmatched power and strength, felt crazy. The only word to describe it was surreal.

Satoru gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as they announced your union. The kiss–though he'd kissed you plenty of times before, was now on the lips. A little deeper, holding the back of your head, keeping you close, preventing you from pulling away too quickly, leaving you breathless.

During the reception, amidst the laughter and clinking glasses, you caught snippets of conversation from Satoru’s relatives, their voices low, gazing at you with a gleam in their eyes. One topic staying constant on their tongues: producing an heir.

It was a layer of expectation that loomed large, suddenly making your new reality even more daunting than you had anticipated.

As the night drew to a close and the estate began to quiet down, the weight of what was expected in your marriage truly settled in. Would Satoru really expect... that... so soon?

The thought of... consummation, when you hadn't even been dating, churned in your stomach as you hesitantly approached his, now your bedroom door. All your belongings were already here, making this vast place your new home, but this final step—something you felt completely unprepared for—loomed large.

With a shaky breath, you knocked gently on the door. The sound echoed slightly in the still hallway, perfectly in tune with the rapid beating of your heart. When the door finally swung open, Satoru loomed above you, his silhouette framed by the soft light spilling from the room, haloing him in an almost ethereal glow.

"You came," he remarked, a hint of surprise coloring his voice as if he hadn't fully expected you to follow through. You stood awkwardly a the door, feeling a little shy. Where you not supposed to-

"Come on," his hand reaching out to grasp your arm, pulling you into the room with a gentle tug that caused you to stumble slightly. As you regained your balance, your eyes quickly scanned the room.

It was strikingly sterile, devoid of personal touches, which made it feel less like a bedroom and more like an impersonal guest room. You assumed your belongings had already been neatly stored away in the closet. However, what really caught your attention wasn’t the room’s lack of personality but rather what—or rather, who—was on the large king-sized bed.

Suguru was there, lounging casually as if his presence in this intimate setting was the most natural thing in the world, the sight throwing you off.

"S-Suguru?" Your voice wavered, tinged with disbelief. He hadn't been at the wedding celebrations, and it had been months since you'd last seen him. Overcome with a mix of surprise and relief, you quickly crossed the room and threw yourself onto his lap, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Even I didn't get this reaction," Satoru muttered from behind you, his tone a mix of amusement and mock offense.

Suguru's response was a deep, resonant chuckle that vibrated through his chest, warming you with its familiarity. The position was intimate, but you'd sat on their laps plenty of times before.

Obviously nothing would happen tonight if he was here.

"It's been a while, pretty girl," Suguru murmured, his hand gently caressing your face and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You leaned into his touch, realizing just how much you had missed his presence.

"Heard you got married while I was gone," his voice low and teasing.

You laughed, the sound muffled against his chest as you nuzzled closer, reveling in the comfort his presence provided. The familiarity of his scent and the steady beat of his heart soothing your nerves.

"Ok, now I'm starting to get jealous," Satoru's voice came from behind you. You heard his footsteps as he approached, and you felt the bed give way under his weight, his body pressed against your back, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them.

Suguru's hand reached over your shoulder, affectionately patting Satoru on the head.

"Now why would you be jealous? She's your wife," Suguru teased, his voice light but carrying a note that stirred a chill down your spine. You were still not quite accustomed to being called someone's wife.

"And here you are, all cuddled up next to her," Satoru huffed, his tone playful yet pointed.

"You promised we'd share, Satoru. Don't get greedy now," he added, reminding Satoru of some unspoken agreement that seemed to include you in their plans. You felt nervous as you let outa small breath.

"Promised you'd share?" The words slipped out, small, tinged with disbelief as you craned your neck to look up at Suguru. Almost instantly, you felt Satoru's presence push behind you. His body pressed closer, his breath warm on your neck, and his arms cinched tighter around your waist—a clear sign he didn't appreciate being ignored–even for a moment.

"Of course, sweet girl. We couldn’t possibly let you end up with just anyone," Suguru replied, his tone casual but obviously carrying an coolness that had you momentarily stunned.

"But what do you mean by 'share'?" The question hung awkwardly in the air, your brain not fully wrapping around his meaning.

Suguru's response was matter-of-fact. "Well, technically, you can only marry one of us, right?"

Before you could digest this, Satoru piped up from behind, his voice laced with a mix of jest and arrogance, "And I’m the heir to the Gojo family, so obviously I’m the better choice."

This boast earned him a scathing look from Suguru, who, despite the tension, continued to stroke your head in a seemingly soothing manner. Yet, the gesture now felt more like a claim being staked, adding to the surreal-ness of the situation.

"You've always been part of us, yeah? Every moment we've spent together built towards this. It's natural for us to be together. All ours."

Your mind reeled, struggling to piece together the implications of his words. "I... but I thought we were just friends. What do you mean I've always been yours?"

Satoru's breath was warm against your ear. "Think about it. Who's always been there for you? Who have you spent all your time with? It's always been us, hasn't it? It's not just friendship. It's more than that, and deep down, you know it," he whispered, each word designed to reshape your understanding of the past few years you shared together. Willing you to understand.

"But... How? A marriage is supposed to be between two people–a man and a woman–not... not this," you protested weakly, trying to grasp the reality they presented against everything you thought you knew–everything your clan has taught you.

Suguru laughed softly, a sound that used to comfort you but now seemed to carry a darker undertone. "Who says it has to be just two people?–man, woman, same difference. What we have? It's special, unique. We don't need to follow society's rules. We make our own rules because we're meant to be together. All of us."

Satoru nodded, adding, "Exactly. Why limit ourselves? You're ours, and we're yours. We've shared everything, haven't we? Our food, our time, our secrets. Sharing our lives through marriage is just the next step."

Your face flushed red, a mix of confusion and realization washing over you. "I... I do love you both," you admitted, your voice trembling. "You are the most important people in my life. I can't imagine being without you." Despite the situation, your heart knew these feelings were genuine. You've obviously never confessed, and this just felt so new. So nerve wracking.

Suguru's expression softened, his earlier laughter fading into a more sincere, tender smile. "And we love you, too. More than you can imagine," he assured you, hands collecting your hair together. "We've never planned to let you go, not now, not ever."

As Satoru buried his face deeper into your neck, you felt the warmth of his breath and the gentle kisses he planted along your skin. Each kiss was soft, almost reverent, as he murmured right into your ear, “No matter what happens, even if you wanted to leave, we wouldn’t let you. You're part of us, and that’s how it’s going to stay. We’re in this together, forever.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, making your heart swell with happiness. It felt right, being here with them, more right than anything else ever had. They were no longer just dreams or fantasies—they were real, tangible–and you finally saw them for what they were.

Yours.

Suguru’s hands joined Satoru’s at your waist, tightening his hold just as his gaze pierced into yours. His question was direct, catching you by surprise. "Have you been with anyone before?" His eyes seemed to search for any hint of deceit in your response.

You shook your head, knowing exactly what he meant, your cheeks warming with embarrassment. "No, I’ve.... never been with anyone. I don’t even really know how all this is supposed to work," you admitted, feeling your heart race under his intense attention.

Sensing your nervousness, Suguru suddenly took charge, his voice firm as he instructed Satoru to give you some space. "Scoot back a bit, let's not crowd her," he said, a playful note creeping in his voice. Satoru moved back reluctantly, mumbling a mix of playful huffs and complaints. “She’s my wife,”

"It'll start with kissing," Suguru ignores him, instead focusing his attention on you. "Already done that," you chimed in quickly, remembering the kisses shared with Satoru, the one from the alter-really only wanting to be helpful.

You didn't expect Suguru’s poutily looking away. A hint of annoyance flickering across his face. Sure, he expected the two of you to already kiss when you were married but…. "Satoru’s already kissed you…." he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Curious, you asked, "What’s wrong?" Satoru couldn't help but chime in with a grin, "Suguru’s jus’ jealous." Your face turned a deeper shade of red at the tease, but before you could respond, Suguru pulled you into him, his lips meeting yours in a deep, all-consuming kiss. It was intense and filled with an urgency that seemed to be fueled by Satoru’s taunting.

His hands trial down your body, squeezing and pulling you closer, exploring you completely. You're sat in his lap, as he forces your hips to grind into his, an obvious bulge pressing against you, his eyes damn near black–blown out, watching you closely as you break for air.

Looking down, his palms massage your thighs, hitching your nightgown up higher, fingers finally reaching your covered slit as you let out a small whimper from the contact.

You felt all eyes on you, and couldn't help the nerves that coiled in your stomach–even now with you splayed across his lap on display, hungry eyes watching you–you still felt embarrassed. You heard shuffling from behind you, turning your head to meet Satoru-but before you could, Suguru’s hands grabbed your chin to face him.

“Eyes on me, Doll.” The breathy puff of air you let out was all instinctual–the way he so easily commanded your attention with his pet names. And the tremble in your rolling hips forced his eyes back down, trailing his hand across your chest, your stomach, and finally down to the soaked fabric. “Satoru, I think your wife likes me more.”

Your hands grip onto the fabric of his shirt, and you so desperately want to look back when you hear the slick sounds from behind you, Satoru’s annoyed sulky puff at Suguru’s comment sounding out around the loud, wet slaps.

“hah–gimme a minute with her, and let's see who’s talkin’–” But once again Suguru ignores him, his fingers teetering the border of your panties, obviously distracted, before finally sliding a finger along your drenched folds. He lets out a soft chuckle, burying himself in deeper, a sickening squelch reverberating the room, now matching the pace of the sound behind you. So filthy, and you really didn't know any better-

You can't help the low moan you let out, or the way your nails dig into his shoulders, hips bucking into his thick fingers, seeking a release you didn't expect. And just as sudden, he withdrawals his fingers, bringing them up to your face, as if he were scolding you.

“Look at how filthy you are.” he coos out, voice husky. “So cute.” You’re beet red.��

"Please, tell me you’re gonna let me have a taste.” Satoru's voice sounds out behind you, begging, more desperate than you've ever heard from him before. “C’mon Suguru, please.”

You could hear the rasp in his words, laced with heavy desire, as you watched Suguru shocked, no- stunned at the request. You couldn't see his face, but the audible fapping noises behind you were enough to give you a picture.

“What do you think, doll? Should we let him taste?” His voice dripping in amusement, as you shake your head, mouth agape, “t-that’s nasty, Sugur–” before you could finish your protest, Suguru leans over you, pulling Satoru in by his neck, pushing you down on the bed in the process.

Now hovering above you, slotted between your legs–his hardened length firmly pressed against your center. You finally have a clear image of them both, as you see his fingers being shoved into Satoru’s mouth, grip choking him, and the lewd image of his fingers fucking into his mouth would stay ingrained into your mind for weeks after–you've never seen him so rough before.

And what shocked you moreso was when Satoru practically moaned at the contact of your taste on his tongue, lolling out, leaning into his aggressive hold as if it were the most natural thing ever. He greedily laps Suguru's fingers, fingers gripping Suguru’s wrist close, eyes rolling back, a sinful expression gracing his face.

You have a clear view of just what Satoru was up to behind your back, his massive hand actively stroking his girthy cock, now inches from your face. You can't keep your eyes off of it as you study it religiously. You've never seen one before. Was that thing supposed to….fit inside you? ]

Suguru chuckled lowly at your reactions, gaze locked onto you before pulling his fingers from Satoru’s mouth, releasing his hold on his neck.

“He’s such a nasty boy, don't you think? Getting all hard from his wife being felt up like that.” Your eyes find Suguru’s again as he watches you closely. You can't respond-and how were you supposed to with two very large, very big men standing over you?

“You nervous?” you nod before you could stop yourself. Without hesitating, he pushes himself into you, spurring a small whimper from you, “It’s okay baby. We’ll take good care of you.” His fingers find your clit through your panties, as he continues grinding into you, each touch bringing you closer and closer to the edge, mind going fuzzy as you watch Satoru stroking himself.

His eyes meet yours, glazing over, pupils matching Suguru’s, and they both sense your impending orgasm growing with every passing second, your body responding to Suguru’s touch despite your initial hesitation. "You're so wet already, doll," he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck. “Feels so tight ‘n warm.”

Satoru chuckles, licking his lips as he watches Suguru's movements, leaning down to hover over your face, “Wanna taste?” And before you could answer, he’s leaning into a deep kiss, tongue slipping past your lips, and you can taste your own slick on him.

Breaking away, his fingers make their way to your mouth, eyes watching you, burning you. He moves his thumb away from your mouth, replacing it with the tip of his cock instead, tracing your lips with it. "Open up."

You feel a shiver run down your spine as you hesitantly part your lips, allowing Satoru to slide his cock inside. Your eyes widen as you taste him for the first time, a salty white thickness coating your tongue. Suguru takes this opportunity to slide a finger inside you once again, curling it just right to hit that spot.

You moan involuntarily, your hips bucking against his hand, allowing Satoru's cock in deeper, almost choking on it. Satoru smirks, his hands moving to grip your head, guiding your movements. He loves the way you look with his cock in your mouth, so innocent yet so sinful. He thrusts deeper, his hips rocking against your face, as you continue slurping on his thick cock. “Eh eh, no teeth baby, hollow out that mouth, jus like that, goooood girl–”

“Cmon now Satoru, she can't breathe.” Suguru reprimands lightly, your head going dizzy at the lack of oxygen.

“You sure you're a virgin?” Satoru moaned out, “sure doesn't seem like it.”

“Easy now, Satoru, don't make me tie you down.” You barely catch the words, Satoru filling your mouth as drool pooled around the edges. You’d complain, but the moans coming from Satoru were godly, and the feel of Suguru grinding into your clothed cunt had easily clouded your thoughts.

“So good fer me,” Satoru praises, pulling his cock from your mouth, leaving behind a trail of saliva. They both are mesmerized at how your body takes them both so well, each stimulation eliciting such a vulgar reaction from you. You already looked fucked out and they haven’t even started.

Suguru pulls your panties down now, fixated on your weeping bare cunt, drawing satorus attention. “Sucha pretty little hole.” His fingers trail the edges, before dipping inside, and you moan at the intrusion.

“Let's keep this mouth busy, yeah?” and before you know it, Satoru’s cock is back on your tongue, thrusting in deep, as you gag. The sight of your pretty mouth struggling to accommodate him only spurs him on, and you do your best to relax your jaw–only hoping that you were doing it right.

Suguru's eyes flicker with a primal hunger as he watches you struggle to adjust to Satoru's cock. He withdraws his fingers from you slowly, leaving you aching and empty for just a moment before he replaces them with something much larger.

You feel his cock press against your entrance, causing your eyes to widen, not sure he’d be able to even fit there. Satoru chuckles at your reaction, gripping your head firmer as he thrusts deeper into your mouth. Suguru leans down, his lips grazing your ear. "Relax," he whispers soothingly. "It'll be easier if you just relax, baby."

You nod, trying to settle down, trusting him completely, he slowly pushes himself inside you, his thick length stretching you wide open. You whimper around Satoru's cock as Suguru fills you up, pleasure and pain melding together in a heady mix, the stretch almost unbearable.

Satoru groans at the feel of your throats vibrations, as Suguru gives you a moment to adjust before he starts moving, his hips rocking into yours in a slow, steady rhythm. Satoru matches his pace, thrusting in sync with Suguru. You feel completely filled, sandwiched between them both. They take turns praising you, their voices muffled by their own pleasure-filled moans.

"Fuck, you feel incredible." Suguru's husky voice echoes through your mind as he picks up the pace, thrusting deeper inside your sloppy pussy. "Such a good girl, taking both of us so well." Satoru adds, his breathing labored as he watches Suguru claim you, eagerly awaiting his turn.

Their movements become more erratic as they lose themselves in their lust, their hands roaming over your body possessively.

Suguru's thumb circles your clit faster, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, as Satoru thrusts harder into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. You moan around him again, the vibrations sending shockwaves through him, causing his hips to stutter. They continue to worship your body, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “Should I cum in this pussy?” Suguru says, staring down at you through hooded eyes.

His words send a bolt of pleasure straight to your pussy, your walls contracting around him involuntarily. His grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts becoming rougher as he groans, "Fuck yes, I'm going to cum inside you, this pussy will be dripping, ‘m gonna give you so much." His eyes bore into yours, filled with a possessive hunger that makes you squirm. Satoru groans at the sight, his cock pulsing against your tongue.

Satoru pulls out of your mouth momentarily to trail wet kisses down your neck, leaving your mouth open for you to sputter out a string of curses and moans. He circles your nipple with his tongue, making you arch into him as Suguru continues to fuck you mercilessly. “Fuck, she's so responsive.” His own climax building at the sight of your impending orgasm.

Suguru grunts in approval at your response, his hips driving harder into yours, his cock stretching you deliciously. You can hear the offensive wet sounds of their movements filling the room, making your core clench even more around Suguru's length. "you're so goddamn tight,"

Suguru curses, his control slipping. Satoru's lips leave your nipple to trail kisses along your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to cum for us, aren't you, sweetheart?" He asks huskily, his hand wandering down to grip your thigh, holding it aside so he could see better.

"Mhmph," you moan, nodding vigorously, your body trembling under the dual assault. Suguru grunts, his pace relentless as he feels your pussy begin to spasm around him. "That's it, take it all, you're doing so well," Satoru praises, his voice rough, strained with arousal. Suguru's movements become erratic as he chases his own climax, his thrusts becoming rougher, deeper, more primal.

"Fuckfuck–yes, cum on this dick,” He curses as his orgasm hits, his cock pulsing inside you as he releases hot streams of cum. Your walls tighten around him, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, making you buck wildly against him.

Suguru growls as he feels you clamp around him, cursing as he sinks his fingers into you tighter. Satoru watches intently, his hand gripping the base of his cock tightly to prevent himself from cumming too soon. Suguru's movements slow, but he doesn’t pull out, letting his cum fill you as he catches his breath. "Holy shit. You were holdin' out on us."

Suguru presses soft kisses against your neck while he waits for you to come down from your high. Suguru withdraws from you slowly, his cum trickling down onto the king bed below you. Before you can catch your breath, Satoru takes his place, his cock pressing against your sensitive entrance. "My turn now," and before you can protest, he thrusts in deep as Suguru leans in to capture your pathetic whimpers with a filthy kiss.

Satoru's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts deeper into you–the stretch so familiar but so different, his movements calculated to drive you wild. "So wet,so sososo so good," he groans, his pace increasing steadily. He loves the feeling of you around him, the way your walls clench with each stroke, recovering from your orgasm-pulsating just right-so hotsohotsohot, Suguru’s cum working as a lube for your poor abused hole–no doubt overstimulated. Suguru watches from the side, stroking himself lazily as he watches Satoru claim you, his own lust rekindled. They both lose themselves in the moment, completely consumed by their desire for you.

"You're going to take every drop," Satoru grunts, his own orgasm building. Your eyes roll back as you feel your climax approaching at a scary speed, your body begging for release as he hits all the right spots.

When you finally cum, your pussy milks him greedily, pulling out every last drop of cum. They both groan in pleasure, the sight of you too good to pass up, as Satoru pulls out, he chuckles at your spent form, the sight of his cum dripping from you making him hard again already. Collapsing on the bed next to you, spent and satisfied.

He reaches out to trace patterns over your sensitive folds, playing with the mess they've made together, slick pooling at his fingertips. "Look at what a good little slut you are, stuffed by two men's seeds," he teases, leaning in to press a tender kiss against your thigh before looking over at Suguru with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You think she can handle us both filling her up?"

Suguru looks over at you with a hungry gaze, he runs a hand through his dark hair, eyes trailing down to where their cum pools between your legs. "We'll have to see," he says, a wicked smile playing on his lips. He moves closer, positioning himself beside Satoru so that they're both looming over you, staring down at your spent form. "But first, Be a good boy, Satoru, and clean her up."

His hand on the back of his head, but you don't think he needed much convincing. Satoru leans forward without hesitation, his tongue licking up the mixture of their cum from your inner thighs- drawing patterns, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of both of their essences mixed with your sweetness. You whimper at the sensation, your body still sensitive and now overstimulated.

Suguru watches, his hand gripping Satoru's hair tightly, his own cock stirring again at the sight of Satoru’s tongue dipping into your pussy, tonguing the white mixture, with a nasty blissed out expression.

"Spread wider for him, doll," he instructs, his voice husky with desire. You obey automatically despite you craving the need to shut them tightly, your legs trembling as Satoru's tongue delves deeper, arms pinning your bucking hips down to the bed.

You moan out loudly, your body writhing beneath him, as Satoru licks and sucks at your swollen clit, relishing in your responsiveness, swallowing down every drop that your pussy gave him.

Suguru reaches over him to fondle your breasts, pinching your nipples gently as he watches Satoru work his magic on your sensitive nerves. "Such a good girl," he praises, his free hand stroking his hardening cock again. "So responsive, so eager for more. You really ready for round two?"

Satoru smirks up at Suguru, licking cum from his lips before leaning up to meet his lips in a filthy kiss. You watch in a haze of pleasure as they share your taste, their tongues tangling together hungrily. When they finally pull apart, Suguru's eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at you.

"I think she's ready for whatever we want to give her,"

did you want to read it again?

come home, this one has a second home

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starlightxsvt · 2 days ago

Text

Guilty | sibilance. 3

synopsis ➳ ❝ after months you see Wonwoo at the annual party. lines are crossed, accusations are made and just after, your colleague voices out a crazy proposition.❞

pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x rich badboy!wonwoo (ft. Jeonghan)

genre ➳ angst, smut, drama

word count ➳ 4.5k + 900(patreon bonus)

warnings ➳ cursing, toxic ex vibes, slight love triangle, rough sex, unprotected intercourse, dom!wonwoo, big dic!wonwoo, messy makeouts, dirty talk, degradation, cream pie, no aftercare, so much drama.

previous chapter

The weather is misty today. Winter has passed quickly over the past three months, and now spring is starting to ease the chill from the air. Yet, you still feel just as tired, if not more so than before.

A break is an imminent necessity, but you will not be getting any until you wrap up your current case. It is a huge one, viral on social media due to its scandalized nature, but most importantly, your client and his opponent are extremely exhausting. It is like managing toddlers, and you are ever so grateful that Jeonghan is also handling this case with you.

It is a particularly sensitive case because your client is the owner of the biggest textile company in the country and also, Chairman Jeon’s good friend, Mr Kim. Last month, he married his daughter off to another huge chaebol family in the country and the issue began with the catering service for the wedding, owned by Mr Kim’s ex business partner and current rival. The guests all got food poisoning right in the middle of the ceremony and the bride had an allergic reaction, throwing Mr Kim into a fit as he claimed it to be an attempted murder to get revenge on him.

Things have been chaotic since then, keeping you on your toes.

Despite being snowed under your work, a particular rumour floating around the Jeon Corporation caught your attention and has been a constant form of distraction ever since you heard it.

Word on the street says that Chairman Jeon is set to announce a new CEO at the annual party of the company taking place this weekend and apparently, one candidate is his own son and the other is a completely new hire. Six months ago you would have laughed at the rumour of the Chairman’s son, Wonwoo— who you know personally, taking over the company but now, you can say nothing for sure.

It has been nearly three months since you last saw him, partly due to your hectic schedule and also due to the lack of work at Jeon Corporation. Since you have not visited the headquarters recently, you have not been tortured by the sight of that infuriating man but you have to admit that thoughts of Wonwoo have been plaguing your mind. They pop up randomly in your head and you hate your mind for betraying you like that.

You are supposed to move on. And it was not even an actual relationship so why are you still thinking about that stupid, spoiled brat?

“Your drink.” Jeonghan places your coffee on your desk, snapping you out of your reverie. You turn from the window in front of which you were standing and walk back to your desk, taking a sip of your latte with a grateful smile. “I still cannot believe you got my order exactly right on the first try. Thank you.”

It is truly insane. A month ago one day, as your work started piling up, you stopped taking your usual coffee breaks and instead asked Jeonghan to grab you something, forgetting to mention how you like your coffee. Unbelievably, when you tried what he brought for you, you were astounded to the point of silence.

Turns out you and his sister have very similar tastes so he got lucky with that.

“You are most welcome.” Jeonghan smiles, throwing a cheeky wink at you. “Just knock on my door if you need anything.”

“Will do.” You pause for a moment. Just as he is about to close the door behind him, you call, “Jeonghan, you’re attending the party this weekend, right?”

The man steps back into your office. “Yes. Actually, I am glad that you brought it up.”

You wait, looking at him expectantly.

“Would you be my date for the evening?”

You smile. “Gladly.” Everyone you know already has a plus one so you were dreading showing up alone. As always, Jeonghan has come to the rescue.

“I am honoured.” Jeonghan smiles, his eyes crinkling beautifully. “I was worried Mr. Pi would ask me to be his plus one. I mean it was either going to be you or me.”

You snort a burst of laughter. “I know, right? But he will not get off our backs when he figures out we’re coming together. You know he has that weird obsession of pairing us together like a couple.”

Suddenly, Jeonghan’s face grows serious.“That isn’t a bad idea, you know.”

A soft sigh falls from your lips.

“You should move on from him. It has been long enough, don’t you think?”

“I am over him,” you reply, almost defensively. “Listen, if there is one thing I have learned, it is, not to date where you work.”

Jeonghan chuckles softly. “Office romance is quite fun you know.”

You arch a teasing brow. “Someone seems experienced.’’ The man smiles secretively before stepping closer to the door, pulling it open with one hand. “Just giving you a heads up, you haven’t seen me in a suit yet.”

“I see you in a suit every day, Jeonghan.” You sass.

The man rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. A proper three piece suit. A tuxedo. Prepare to have your mind blown.” He shakes his palms for dramatic effect.

You sip your coffee. “Mhm, stop pestering me now. I have so much work to do.”

The man flashes a smile before pulling the door closed.

You still have a grin lingering on your lips as you open your files and start skimming through them.

—

On Saturday night, Jeonghan is in front of your house sharply at 7.

You rush to the door as you receive his text, putting on your heels and scrambling to get your purse and phone.

You are going to be late but hey, at least you will be fashionably late.

Buying this emerald green dress impulsively six months ago was not a bad idea, you now realize, because you love how the dress fits you. With your hair and makeup done, it is almost a completely new you and you may have taken too long admiring yourself in the mirror.

Jeonghan’s jaw goes slack as he watches you step out of your apartment building. His expression makes you laugh and you cannot help but shake your head at his overexaggeration.

“Wow,” his eyes move up and down as he steps closer to you. “Fucking hell. You look absolutely stunning.”

Shyly you avoid his gaze. “Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself.” You gesture towards him, waving your hand up and down his height. The coffee-coloured three piece suit is truly a fabulous compliment to his brushed back blond hair.

The man shakes his head. “You were the one who should have given me a heads up. I have the prettiest woman in the party as my date.”

This man sure has a way with his words.

“I can see why you are such a successful lawyer, Mr. Yoon.” You saunter past him. “Let’s get going now. We’re already late.”

“Yes madam,” he rushes past you to hold open the car door, making you smile.

—

The venue is crowded when you arrive.

It takes no more than five minutes for your colleagues to spot the two of you and five more minutes later, you are graced by Mr. Pi’s holy presence. He gushes over the two of you and when Jeonghan escapes the conversation by saying he’ll get drinks for you, Mr. Pi corners you.

“Are you sure you are not dating our dear Mr. Yoon?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “No, Mr. Pi. Come on now, let it be.”

He hums and then nods thoughtfully, pushing his sunglasses up his nose bridge.

Who knows why he is wearing that indoors and at night.

“I understand,” the man rubs his chin slowly and seriously as if he is pondering the most critical issue of life. “Our chairman’s handsome son left a lasting impression on you.”

Even before you realise it, a soft, almost wistful sigh escapes your lips. “Can we not talk about him? At least not here?”

Mr. Pi looks at you from above his sunglasses, “This is the place to talk about him. Tonight people will talk about him.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Wait, what?

“Mr. Pi—” You reach out for him but he spots an old colleague and walks over to him, ignoring you with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Right then, Jeonghan is back with two flutes of champagne in his hands. You snatch one from him and immediately gulp it down. Then, you narrow your eyes at him. “Nice job, jerk. Leaving me alone with him.”

The man cheekily shrugs his shoulder, unable to fight off the knowing smile blooming on his lips. Grinning at you, he sips his champagne.

With a shake of your head, you go around the room accompanied by Jeonghan, mingling with old and new faces. The stage is being set up for the upcoming speeches by the top executives of the company. The closing speech will, of course, be Chairman Jeon’s. The grand hall room increasingly grows crowded as you finish two more glasses of champagne while socialising, everyone eager to hear the big announcement.

“I think you have drunk enough for now.” Jeonghan blocks your hand when you reach for the fourth glass as a waiter passes by. You pout, “Oh come on. Socialising takes a lot of energy. I cannot talk to these boring people about boring things on a Saturday night while being sober.”

A scoff of amusement comes from him and he opens his mouth to say something but his vision shifts, focusing on something behind you. His expression changes and you turn your head back to see what he is looking at.

Not what. Who.

Wonwoo stands a few feet behind you, looking unfairly stunning. The contrast of his black blazer against his crisp white shirt is stunning and with sharp features and his hair brushed back, he is a scene stealer.

He, however, seems not to attract attention as he remains on the edge of the hall room, near where the lights are dimmer. As your eyes meet his and the raging beat of your heart loudens, he holds your gaze before taking quick steps towards you.

Within a couple of seconds, he is right in front of you.

“We need to talk. Privately.” He says, his posture slightly rigid, and he looks around the room as if making sure no one sees him.

You don’t have much time to process his words as he ushers you away by tugging your wrist. You look back at Jeonghan almost helplessly and the man gives you an understanding nod. “I’ll be here, don’t worry.”

You are quickly rushed out of the grand room and pulled down a hallway at the end of which there are a few private rooms. Wonwoo pulls you inside and shuts the door behind you.

The room is messy and if you are not wrong, it seems to be his dressing room.

In your mind, an equation starts to form as you take everything in.

Finally, your eyes land on Wonwoo after scouring the room and you find him looking at you attentively.

There is a hard lump in your throat that you have to swallow.

“Hi.” The man says quietly, almost shyly.

“It has been a while,” you murmur as a greeting, trying to keep your voice as flat as possible.

“Way too long,” he replies, his voice much quieter as he enunciates each word slowly and carefully. You wonder if it is your mind playing tricks on you or if the depth of his eyes just increased tenfold.

Whatever, you cannot let yourself get caught up in this again. The tension in the air is thickening by the second.

“Why did you bring me here?” You avoid his eyes, your gaze settling on the skin peeking from underneath his shirt as the two buttons are undone.

“Right.” Wonwoo blinks as if breaking out of a trance. “I wanted to tell you something. I mean…it will be announced later but I thought you out of all people should hear it from me first.”

The way he speaks, his eyes skirting around, his hands fidgety tells you what the news is. You voice it out for him. “You are taking over the company?”

You see his pupils widen. After a moment's pause, he says. “Yes.”

Hm. He is dressed too fancy to attend as a mere employee anyway.

You are proud of him for sure. He has grown as a person since you last saw him. But at the same time, there is dread in the pit of your stomach. With him now taking over the company, there is no escaping him. You will be seeing him, whether you like it or not.

“Congratulations.” You hum. “I appreciate you informing me separately but it wasn’t necessary. We don’t have any personal contact. I am just another employee, Jeon…Chairman Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo looks at you with surprise and you wonder if it is your icy demeanour that makes him frown.

“Still…I have to thank you. You had a huge part to play in getting me here.”

Oh really?

For a brief moment, your mind flashes back to earlier this year when you were seeing each other. The late night talks about his future with the company. You find yourself wondering how he managed to earn his father’s trust so quickly because you remember him telling you his father would never let him take over. Due to his unrefined behaviors, of course. But it seems that he has grown out of them which is good for him.

“I better get going. Jeonghan is probably waiting for me.” You step towards the door but Wonwoo grabs your upper arm, pulling you back with a gentle tug.

“Do you not miss me? Not one bit?” His voice is so thick with emotion that it feels foreign to you. Like his, your throat closes up, and you hate how a few words from him make tears burn in the back of your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. Just let—”

“It does! There is something else I have to tell you.”

“I don’t care!” You yell, jerking yourself free from his hold. “You can not act all familiar after so long. We are not like that anymore! Why can’t you understand?”

In the semi darkness of the room, you see his eyes glimmer.

The very next moment he is kissing you.

And you are kissing him back.

Just for tonight, you tell yourself as your resolve slips. You are going to give in just tonight. Just one last time. You truly don’t have it in you to turn away from him now, from his warmth, touch, and embrace when this is what you have been longing for the past few months.

Maneuvering your body with his, he pins you against the wall, trapping you with ease. And tonight, there is nowhere you want to escape to.

"I missed you." He whispers like a mantra, devouring your mouth like a starved man. He trails kisses down your jaw as his hands remove your straps from your shoulders, revealing the entire expanse of your shoulder and neck for him to play with. In between heated kisses, his hands explore your breasts, playing with your soft mounds over the fabric of your dress.

No words are exchanged between the two of you.

Your hands move over his chest, feeling the firm muscles under your fingertips before pushing his blazer off his shoulders. The lines are hazy just like your mind as you cannot decipher who pulls whom closer. In the dense cloud of lust, you can only fathom the opening of the buttons of his shirt and his warm body pressing next to yours.

“I need you,” Wonwoo murmurs against your lips. One of his hands moves expertly down your thigh before he grips the back of your knee and places it around his waist. You pull him even closer, smashing your lips against his, hot and heavy as your tongue meets his.

Briefly, you hear the groan of his zipper being undone. You lift your dress, standing at an angle that helps him comfortably slide between your legs, his unrelenting grip on the back of your thigh.

"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. " His whisper is a command as he positions himself at your entrance, pushing your panties to a side.

And before you can blink, he's inside you. The stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud, breathy groan of pleasure that makes you squeeze his shoulders and bite your lip.

This. This is exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you needed.

You feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your hold on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.

"Gosh, you're so tight. I missed you.” He grunts with each thrust. “Letting me fuck you against a wall, in my dressing room. Tell me, did you miss this? Did you miss me like I missed you?" Wonwoo demands, a hand reaching up to squeeze your cheeks, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Look at me and tell me you did not miss me,” he pants, a snarl etched in his tone as he removes his hand from your face and grips the back of your throat, pulling your face closer to his.

"W-Wonwoo," you try to moan. Wonwoo keeps watching you with a darkened gaze, his pace matching the fierceness in his gaze as he continues to drill into you. He shakes after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back. “You are still that dirty girl. You're still my filthy slut."

You hate how much you missed his filthy mouth.

"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, let me come, Wonwoo."

The man smiles, and it almost appears cruel and cocky as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall. He increases his pace, thrusting in and out of you so hard that your back starts aching. However, you are way beyond complaining because the next moment his release is filling you up, triggering yours. Your cry is loud and unceremonious as you cling to him and ride out your high, feeling your release in the deepest fibres of your being

A short moment later, Wonwoo’s grip on you loosens. With a slightly hazy mind, you watch you grab some tissues, cleaning up you and him. With the haze of lust disappearing gradually, you find your head clearing up. The silence in the air now feels suffocating and you find yourself playing a guessing game.

Why is he so quiet? What is he thinking?

As Wonwoo buttons up his shirt and fixes his jacket, his gaze meets yours and you see his eyes fall on your lips. Pressing your fingertips around your lips, you realise your lipstick is smudged. Quietly, he hands you a tissue paper and you walk to the mirror, using it to dab the lipstick stain around your lips.

In the mirror, you watch Wonwoo watching you. All throughout, another strange, suffocating silence persists. As you toss the tissue in the bin, the silence is finally broken by his quiet, somber voice, “My father arranged a marriage for me.”

Your body grows ice cold.

For one long, horrible moment, you stop breathing, thinking, praying that you heard wrong.

“What are you…what— what do you mean?”

“He wants me to marry a chaebol heiress— Yuna Lee, sometime next year.”

Suddenly, you are scrambling to get your thoughts in order. It is always like this with him. One moment it is quiet and the next you are hit by a full speed freight train.

“You should not have done that. We should not have done that. Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“Well, I tried—”

Suddenly, your blood is boiling and you are seeing red.

“What was this, a goodbye fuck?” You hiss, fixing the straps of your dress.

“What?” Wonwoo scoffs. “No! I have been thinking about you for months! Trying to figure out how to approach you—

“With all that thinking you sure did one good job!” You find yourself turning towards the door.

“Oh come on! I…I missed you. You drive me crazy. You know damn well my brain stops working when you are near me.”

“No, Wonwoo. I don’t.” You grit.

The passion, the emotion that you have been holding back all these months comes out in tidal waves. “In case you don’t remember, during our relationship, you were always so nonchalant, so detached. You did not give a shit about me. Not really because I was a fuck buddy to you. A girl getting paid to get your ass out of trouble every time and also someone available for a quick bang!”

Wonwoo’s demeanour shifts. You visibly see him get defensive. “Well, it's not like you professed your love to me! You did not ever hint that you were in love with me.”

Your mouth falls open at the absurdity of his words.

“You… you did not treat me with the minimum respect. You would disappear for weeks, Wonwoo, completely out of the radar only to show up when you needed my help.” You pause. “Never mind, it is pointless to argue with you.” You turn, reaching for the handle of the door.

Wonwoo stops you by roughly tugging on your arm. His grip is iron solid. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to leave without hearing my piece!”

You place a hand on his and use it to remove his fingers from your skin. “The time for speaking was months ago. Not now in a dressing room, minutes before you are about to be announced the new CEO.”

“I finally have my life together!”

“Do you?” You take a step closer to him with a challenge. “Do you really?”

Wonwoo remains silent, his eyes sparkling with thundering storms and clouds of emotions.

You continue. “I was your comfort zone. You used me when you needed me and then forgot about me when you were not in the mood. It would not have mattered if I professed undying love for you. You did not love me, not in the right way. You did not and you don’t right now. This is you trying to find comfort in something familiar…me.”

A twisted, unironical smile appears on his lips. “Oh, so you are what now, a therapist?”

You remain silent, watching him without blinking.

The man shakes his head, scoffing. “If you only knew how I truly felt…” His fingers card through his hair as he takes a step back. “You have no idea how I feel. In fact, right now, I don’t think you even know how you feel!”

Your lips part, ready to interject, but he goes on. “You are right. This was a mistake. I should not have told you about my dad’s plans of getting me married. No, because you would have liked to just straight up receive my wedding invite, huh? I should have just married her and showed up with her one day and introduced you as a special friend, no? Would you have liked that? Would that be the right thing to do?”

Each syllable coming out of his mouth burns like acid. Tears blur your vision but you force yourself not to cry in front of him.

“I fucking hate you.” You breathe, uttering each world slowly. “I hope you have a miserable life with her, you asshole. Never show me your face again.” Gathering your dress with one hand, you march towards the door, not stopping when he calls out your name or tries to hold onto you.

He can go to hell.

Your steps are quick as you pick up pace, running down the long hallway of the private rooms and then down a common corridor before you come to the large foyer in front of the elevator. With your skirt fisted in your hands, you dash for it but a voice makes you pause.

You turn back to find Jeonghan calling your name and jogging after you. As he comes to a stop in front of you, his eyes go up and down the length of your body, taking notice of your dishevelled appearance.

“Are you okay?” His fingers gently touch your arm but you don’t let him pull you closer.

You need to leave.

“I need to go home.” You whisper, voice wobbly.

“Why are you running?” He steps closer to you, a desperation in his voice that matches the look in your eyes. “That bastard keeps hurting you and you keep running from him. Go and fucking… I don’t know— cause a scene! Drag him on stage and smack him once or twice.”

You are not in the mood for this.

“Stop it, Jeonghan,” you grunt turning away but the man steps in front of you.

“No! I won’t stop when I see you repeatedly suffering because of him.”

If you were not so overcome with emotions, you would roll your eyes.

“Just let me go.” You hiss, stepping past the man blocking your way. As you cross him, however, a harsh grip on your wrist forces you to stop.

“Go out with me,” Jeonghan says in the calmest manner, the hold of his fingers on your wrist steadfast like his voice.

You almost make a move to yank yourself free but the diction of those words stops you in your tracks as if a thunderbolt has just struck you. You slowly turn your head back to meet Jeonghan’s eyes, wondering if he really said that. The strength you had moments ago to break your hand free suddenly dissipates as you meet his piercing gaze.

Along with your heartbeat, time stops.

You forget to blink, feeling the subtle tightening of his grip on you. As the silence hangs longer in the air and the depth of his words settles into the empty grand hall and every crevice of your tattered heart, you find yourself motionless, thoughtless, speechless.

“Date me. You know I’ll treat you better.” He states, again.

You feel like you are hyperventilating. A shaky breath comes from your lips and after that, each breath is a struggle.

Suddenly, everything is too much.

Too much light in this hall. Too much noise in the background.

Too much sincerity in his words.

For a moment, you genuinely find yourself considering.

And as your gaze strays from your colleague for the smallest moment, you notice Wonwoo standing a few meters behind him.

The look in his eyes is inexplicable but you feel every emotion radiating off him and you immediately know he heard everything. He doesn’t move, however. As the silence persists, his gaze darkens, watching you like a hawk, almost as if he is waiting to hear your verdict.

At the same time, the longer you look, his gaze appears vulnerable, betrayed.

And you feel…guilty.

Want to know how Jeonghan actually got the reader's order right? Read the special scene here!

series masterliest

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt imagines #seventeen #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo #svt fanfic #svt smut #seventeen angst #kpop imagines #jeon wonwoo #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader

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wolvietxt · 1 day ago

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Could you do Logan Howlett + priorities in the miscommunication prompt? ❤️

one character believes the other is prioritizing someone else over them, feeling hurt and neglected. after a heartfelt confrontation, the other explains their actions, and they find comfort in understanding their connection remains just as strong.

LOGAN had always been hard to read, his gruff exterior a carefully constructed wall that rarely came down. you’d learned to navigate it, to understand the subtle shifts in his tone and the fleeting glimpses of vulnerability he allowed you to see. but lately, it felt like those moments had vanished altogether.

every time you tried to talk to him, he seemed preoccupied, his focus drawn to someone or something else. it wasn’t unusual for jean to need his help - her calm presence often balanced his rough edges - but it felt different this time. more constant, more consuming. and no matter how much you tried to push the thought away, the knot in your chest grew tighter with each passing day.

that evening, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, absentmindedly stirring a mug of tea that had long since gone cold. the quiet buzz of the mansion surrounded you, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying every moment logan had walked past you without so much as a glance, every time his voice softened when speaking to jean in a way it hadn’t with you recently.

“what’s eatin’ ya?”

the gravelly voice startled you, and you turned to see logan leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. his brow was furrowed, but there was something softer in his eyes, a flicker of concern that made your throat tighten.

“nothing,” you muttered, looking away. “just tired.”

“ain’t buyin’ that.” he stepped closer, his boots heavy against the tiled floor. “been quiet lately. somethin’ happen?”

his tone was genuine, but the frustration bubbling beneath your skin refused to be ignored. you set the mug down with more force than necessary, the clink echoing in the room.

“maybe you should ask jean,” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

logan’s eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” you said, turning to face him fully, “that you’ve been spending more time with her than with me. it’s like i’m not even here anymore.”

his jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. but instead, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “jean needed help with some stuff. ain’t nothin’ more than that.”

“it doesn’t feel like nothing,” you said, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “every time i turn around, you’re with her. and i get it, logan. she’s… she’s amazing. but it hurts, okay? it feels like you’d rather be with her than with me.”

his eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he stepped closer. “that ain’t true,” he said quietly. “jean… she’s been strugglin’ with some things. i was just tryin’ to help her out.”

“why didn’t you tell me?” the question came out as a whisper, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support. “why do you always shut me out?”

logan exhaled heavily, his gaze dropping to the floor. “guess i didn’t wanna burden ya. you’ve got enough on your plate without me addin’ to it.”

“so instead, you made me feel like i wasn’t enough,” you said, the weight of your own words pressing down on you. “logan, ‘m here for you. i want to be here for you. but i can’t do that if you keep pushing me away.”

he looked up, and for the first time in days, you saw a crack in his armor. his expression was a mix of regret and something deeper, something raw and unspoken.

“i’m sorry,” he said, the words gruff but sincere. “you’re right. i shoulda told ya what was goin’ on instead of makin’ ya feel like this. it ain’t fair to ya.”

you blinked, the tears you’d been holding back threatening to spill over. “i just… i just needed to know i wasn’t losing you.”

he closed the distance between you in two quick strides, his hands gently gripping your arms as he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “you ain’t losin’ me,” he said firmly. “that’s the last damn thing that’ll ever happen.”

the sincerity in his voice, the way his fingers curled slightly as if afraid you’d pull away, broke through the last of your defenses. you let out a shaky breath, leaning into his chest as his arms wrapped around you, solid and reassuring.

“i’m sorry too,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt. “for assuming the worst.”

“nah,” he said, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. “you had every right to call me out. i’ve been actin’ like a damn fool.”

you let out a small laugh, the tension in your chest easing as his hand traced soothing circles along your back. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet between you no longer heavy but comforting.

“next time,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him, “promise me you’ll talk to me. no more shutting me out.”

his lips quirked into a faint smile, one that reached his eyes. “promise.”

he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then another to your temple, lingering there for a moment as if grounding himself in your presence. the gesture was simple but full of meaning, a silent reassurance that you weren’t going anywhere, and neither was he.

you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of misunderstanding finally lifting. and though the road ahead might still have its bumps, you knew you’d face them together - no walls, no secrets, just the unshakable bond that held you both steady.

ᰔ logan howlett : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun, @omen-keke, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd

@superlegend216, @mikaaki, @withasideofmeg, @samfunko, @aaronhotchnerlover

@qxuanii, @m1cky-y-y, @uncertified-doc, @cryingwta, @pvndomi

@marvelescvpe, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @misscrissfemmefatale, @ltristessedureratoujours, @meadow-field

@hazydespair, @stupid-little-birdie, @aoi_targaryen, @urlocallocachica, @person-005

@christinamadsen, @zaggprincess2, @lokixryss, @mehjustalasshere, @spktrlvr

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

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rametarin · 2 days ago

Note

Also I must protest; capital P Progressives have always been fascistic. But, ideologically, they aren't fascists, even if they practice fascist ideas. They're socialists, some communists.

But fascism and socialism are just different evolutions of the same pokemon. Much as they try to argue fascism is just right-wing, it is not. It is left-wing, politically. Which is why they try to emphasize fascism as inherently needing an ethnosupremacist, or militaristic element, because those things are most typically right wing, except we've seen throughout history in the 20th and 21st century that you can have authoritarian military dictatorships all rooted in Marxism and leftist ideals, all of which claim to hate "fascists," and revolutionizing against them.

Retroactively declaring them irrelevant and "not Marxist" because "they're fascists with red stars," is just revisionism. They double down on the idea fascism is exclusively a right-wing thing, tied to "a glorious past," specifically to keep the model exclusively to this caricature they imagine of the Nazis as their polar opposites.

It isn't true. Fascism and socialism are joined at the hip but facing away from one another, spinning in place as they chase stabbing eachother in the back.

A "neo-Nazi" phase is extremely unfortunate, but should be no more inexcusable than ANY teenager that looks around themselves, gets insecure and embraces a viewpoint that wraps them up in ethnic insecurity like a blanket, changing their hair, clothes and manner of speech and trying to, "get in touch with their people and their roots." Especially if it's a supposed ethnic culture that has violent strife with its neighbors. This applies to any background, not just the white boys.

But class struggle theorists do not care about general ethnic conflict, they care about how the misc. parties play in their Class Struggle Theory board game. Bugger the reality, they think they know better.

Could you personally forgive someone who had a neo-Nazi “phase” as an adult? Assuming they’re trying to make amends for their past behavior/beliefs

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thedeskofaltoclef · 1 day ago

Text

How I became The Desk of Alto Clef.

My response to a SCP Group designed around Hate and Bigotry who have targeted me and others in this community.

Nah, man, my daughter is dead.

It has been brought to my attention that there is a group of people on the internet who are fascinated with my fascination of Alto Clef and Meri. Hurtful and yet cute in a way so I think now I'll choose this time and these screen grabs from their discord to explain how I came to be 'The Desk of Alto Clef'.

My Daughter died six years ago and it sent me spiraling deep into the bottom of whatever bottle I could find.

I was completely prepared to take my own life and even had the things to 'finish the job' because my life had no meaning at that point. What was another statistic going to matter anyways, right?

It was in one of these dark, drunk moments with a gun when I fell across the Volgun's video on 'reality benders and you' and fell into a rabbit hole.

Drunkenly I fumbled around the wiki and learned more about this broken man known as Alto Clef.

A man whom I could relate to in my own way. A man who, no matter what he did, could never see his daughter as I will never be able to see mine. So thus, I became a very, very shitty cosplayer.

I like to believe that over the past four years my acting ability has increased to a sustainable level and as much as I joke about things I do try to stay humble about it. Though I like to think I've become better but I digress.

I love the lore of Clef and Meri, on or offsite, to the point that I am weird about it I know, but that's how I stay connected to my daughter. Writing the Deskverse is how I stay connected to my daughter.

I am also autistic which causes me to hyper fixate on Clef as a coping mechanism.

Because of this group of people I have greatly considered leaving the community and going back to my own personal solitude. Acting, Voice Acting, Cosplaying as Clef gave and still gives me something to live for again. I may not be this group's cup of tea but I do like to believe that I have helped others. My main goal has always been to uplift those who need uplifting. I do not want anyone to ever feel how I felt in my lowest and darkest moments.

The main story in the deskverse is about a father and a daughter torn apart by the actions of an abusive mother. My real life story.

I also have ZERO clue as to why I am being involved with misogyny or yuri things. If I have offended you in any way I do apologize.

I do not plan on posting the more 'suggestive' or 'lewd' responses they have made. Overly sexualized content does make me extremely uncomfortable.

This group of people have broken my heart into pieces. Seeing this list of images and names dragging me through the mud has already smashed my unstable self-esteem as it is.

At this time I do not plan on releasing any names associated with all of this because I am honestly tired of reliving the most horrid event of my life over and over because I, for whatever reason, do not fit what this group feels is acceptable of an actor/writer/fan.

I cannot say the same for the others in which they were assaulting.

In summary Alto Clef is an outlet for the pain I live with every day. I can never see, hold, hear, smell, or speak to my daughter. I have scars on my body from her mother that will never allow me to forget that life I had. I will always remember the taste of gunpowder but thankfully my drunk ass was too weak. If your going to be bad at something, be bad at that I suppose.

I will leave all of this with a final image from the copious list and the one that honestly hurts me the most. I am honestly a shy and reserved person and frankly it takes a lot for me to get out of my comfort zone. Not long ago I went to another SCP discord server because I wanted to meet new people and someone in there was awesome. I truly enjoyed my time with this person and just found them amazing. They were kind, open, willing to listen to my ideas, and gushed over Numberonedoggo. I thought I had finally made a new friend on my own. I was apparently wrong.

Art, from some of my favorite artists, was made for the sole reason of mocking me specifically. To laugh at me for finding joy in something that gives me purpose. Something I use to drive away the darkness.

No age, disorder, illness, or reason at all can be acceptable for anyone to act in this way. You are all a mockery of everything the SCP community should stand for.

-TheDesk

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 2 days ago

Text

Sometimes I think Merlin and Arthur started the sacrificing each other to save each other shit too soon into the series.

Then I remember this scene exists.

(Screenshot from S1E2 - Valiant of Merlin bringing the snake head from the enchanted shield to Arthur to warn him that he’s in danger.)

They moved quickly, but they have a damn good reason for it. I honestly can’t say I blame them.

Merlin learned two things about his destiny with Arthur from this episode:

The first is that Arthur will listen when it matters, but his father’s influence runs deep. Arthur cares more about people’s opinion of him than anything else because he’s been groomed his entire life to become the future king, and Uther is tyrannical in his power so he believes that his is the only way to rule. Arthur picked up bad habits, so while he’s still young and learning what kind of man and leader he wants to be, he could still go either way and Merlin can’t yet trust him to always make the best decisions. (Proved in S1E3 when he enlists Morgana to talk to Arthur about the Afank)

The second thing is that Arthur believes in the systems that Merlin knows to be broken, so he learns it’s better to come to Arthur with results rather than warnings, because Arthur believes the systems in place can help, even in situations where they’d be more of a liability.

Both points are then enforced through season 1 and reinforced by Merlin himself in season 2 onwards.

Arthur learned that Merlin is loyal and honest to a fault, but because of the lifelong grooming as royalty and someone who’s supposed to be “above all others” - as proven when Uther says “his life isn’t worthless, it’s worth less than yours” to Arthur in S1E4 when he denies Arthur a group of men to take to save Merlin - it takes a while for it to really sink in that someone can be loyal and genuinely like him without ulterior motive, and when he finally does recognise that Merlin’s devotion is genuinely sincere, he pushes Merlin away (S2E1) in an attempt to keep himself from getting too close and then hurt by what his father would call his own naivety, rather than just admitting that sometimes people are just bad people who do bad things.

He then subconsciously or not learns that Merlin not being by his side is bad so he keeps him around but at a distance with walls built to protect himself. I can go more into that another time. Uther scapegoats Arthur for a lot, and even acknowledges that he’s a bad parent a few times but never does anything to change the behaviour so his apologies aren’t worth shit. Add that to the genocidal tyranny, and you’ve got a fascinating character who somehow isn’t the main villain of the story. I hate him, he should go play hop scotch on quick sand, but damn is he interesting from a writing/analytical standpoint.

So, yeah, they moved from “if anyone wants to kill him, they can go right ahead. I’ll give them a hand” (-Merlin S1E1) to “…Certain death. Few who have crossed the mountains in search of the Mortaeus Flower have made it back alive” “Sounds like fun” (-Gaius and Arthur S1E4) pretty quickly, but it makes sense when you think about why they moved that quickly with context of how they interact and their (assumed) past experiences.

#merlin meta #bbc merlin #merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #merthur #merlin x arthur #merlin and arthur #bbc gaius #long post #character analysis #sorta #i’m bad at tagging #coherency? on my blog? never.#fuck uther #season 1 episode 2 #bbc valiant #i’m going insane

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hungermakesmonsters · 2 days ago

Text

The Red Ribbon

Chapter One

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 6k

A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos

Master List

Chapter One

“Remind me why I hired you?”

His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.

Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.

“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”

“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.

It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.

“What was that?” He asked.

It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.

“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”

“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”

“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.

“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.

As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.

There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.

“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”

“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”

He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.

You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.

The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake.

The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.

You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk.

The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations.

At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.

If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.

You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.

But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.

And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.

By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.

The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor.

New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.

You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.

Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.

You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.

The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.

You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.

Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.

The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club.

“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.

You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you. He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.

“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.

He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.

After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer.

“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.

And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.

Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.

“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.

You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.

As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.

After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame.

He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.

“What can I get you?” You asked.

“Another scotch would be great.”

“Sure thing.”

You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.

“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.

“I’d remember seeing you.”

He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he wasn’t checking you out.

“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.

He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.

“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.

“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.

His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.

“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”

You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.

Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.

“Oh, a thigh man as well?”

“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.

His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.

“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.

His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.

“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”

Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.

You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.

“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.

“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”

“You have no idea...”

It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do.

“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.

“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”

“Another?”

You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.

“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.

“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.

Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”

“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”

He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.

“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”

Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.

“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.

“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.

“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.

“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.

He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”

“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”

He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again.

They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.

“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.

When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.

“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.

It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.

“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.

“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.

“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.

“Should I ask?”

Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.

“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.

Oh.

Shit.

You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”

“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”

“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.

“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.

“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”

“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”

It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”

Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.

“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”

“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”

That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.

“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?”

“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.

You took a second to consider your answer.

“Jellyfish.”

“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?”

“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”

“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.

There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.

“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.

Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.

“What do you hate most about New York?”

“Hate?” He repeated.

“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.

You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.

“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”

You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.

“When was the last time you used the subway?”

“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.

“Fine. Your turn.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”

The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.

“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.

“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”

“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“Normally I don’t need lines.”

“No?”

“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.

You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.

“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.

“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.

“Emphasis on the filthy part.”

He smirked at that.

The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.

“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.

“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”

There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.

“You like baseball?”

“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”

Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.

“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.

“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.

And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.

“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.

“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.

“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.

There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe.

“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.

“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”

Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.

“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”

He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.

“I thought it was my turn.”

“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”

“We could be friends.”

“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”

“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”

The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.

He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.

“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.

Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).

And he watched you, too.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.

So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.

Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.

One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.

You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him.

“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.

“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”

It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.

Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.

“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.

Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.

“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”

“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”

Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.

“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.

He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again.

It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.

Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.

You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.

No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.

I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.

A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.

Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.

He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...

Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.

Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt.

He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.

As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.

A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #trr ff

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dreamylittlevalentine · 11 hours ago

Text

In the past I've told my doctor that I was having bad side effects on the medicine I had currently been on so I could be switched to something else. Each time I did he kept brushing it off despite the medicine not helping me. Over half a year later and he was still doing that. In America, where I live, doctors often get a paycheck for pushing certain drugs.

People should not be encouraged or forced to take medicine that is causing them harm and their mental illness should not be weaponized as a reason to enforce it.

A lot of these medicines often come with very negative side effects. Increase of anxiety, paranoia, suicidal ideation, mood swings, irritability, being a few. The very things most of these prescribed medicines are supposed to help with.

Dismissing someone suffering from those side effects is negligent and cruel. You are not helping someone's mental health by forcing them to take medicine that is actively harming their mental wellbeing. Making someone feel like they don't have a choice and how they're actually feeling doesn't matter is traumatizing.

If taking psych meds helps you that's great, but I wish all the "always take your meds!!!" and "it's okay to take meds!!!" positivity would leave some space for the way people with certain mental illnesses are often expected, coerced and forced into taking psychiatric medication that isn't necessarily helping them and the trauma associated with this, because illnesses like schizophrenia (and other diagnoses which include psychosis) are seen as something that NEEDS medical intervention in a way anxiety and depression just isn't. I'm not saying people don't get to talk about how their meds help them, but "take your meds you need them!!!" just really isn't an empowering counterculture positive message for everyone

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district4loading · 3 days ago

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OMGGGG is there any way your could revive that fic 😭😭 somno fits sana so well and if were to turn this into a full request, can it be fem reader but can use strap hhdhehehehe thank uuuuu

Snooze (WLW)

Twice Sana!Sub x Female Reader!Dom

3K Words

Content Warning: smut, somno, praise, oral, fingering, strap, some fluff at the end

Minors DNI

A/N: Didn't plan on making this a full blown fic but anon asked so they recieved. Apologies that its so short. Enjoy!

Also i'm sorry but doesn't Sana look so pretty?

It's sick and twisted but for some reason, you like it.

"Sana, thats the weirdest thing I've ever heard you say" You look up from your phone to gauge whether or not the brunette was serious about what she just said.

Sure enough she had those expecting eyes fixated on you "It's not weird! It’s hot" She protests your comment, climbing into your arms like she usually did.

You were on the couch in your living room, scrolling on your phone when Sana came in and made a rather peculiar request. "You want me to fuck you while you're asleep?" She nods with a cute smile on her face and she hums in response "And you don't want me to tell you when I'll do it, or warn you before?"

Sana giggles softly when she sees the look of pure disbelief you give her "Listen you have nothing to be worried about, I want you to do it" She holds your hand in hers "and make sure i'm out cold, I literally want to wake up with your face between my legs"

"I don't know, what if you're not in the mood? Or-"

"Shh" Sana puts her finger over your lips then leans forward, removing them in the same instance to plant a small kiss on your lips "I assure you, I'll be in the mood"

So you agreed to it, fulfilling one of your girlfriend's wildest fantasies because you love her and you'll do whatever you can to make sure she's happy. Even if you think it’s a bit odd.

You waited a couple of days so it'll come as a complete shock to her. It's maybe one in the morning and you're more than sure that she's out cold but you think it wouldn't hurt to make sure. So you tap her arm a few times "Sana" you whisper. You take notice of her body and the way it rose, then fell with such gracefulness as she breathes in and out, the slow noise of it filling the silent room.

Then you shift a bit, getting on your knees so you can gently pull the covers off of her. She's wearing what she usually does to bed, a loose tank top and some shorts. You start to feel a bit of a rush as you watch her lay there, asleep with with no knowledge of what's to come.

Maybe it's not so weird after all

You touch her thigh, the soft warmth making you aware of how cold your own hands were and you start to worry that it'll wake her. It takes you a moment but you finally manage to get your hands on the waistband of her shorts. Your fingers loop under her panties too because there's no need for teasing. The only one you'd be teasing is yourself. So you begin to pull the pieces of clothing off, having a bit of a hard time because she's not awake to lift her hips.

Soon enough the garments slip down her legs and past her ankles and you toss them to the side. Your heart begins to race because the tension in the room is thick, like you're doing something you're not supposed to and if she were to wake up and catch you it'll all be over.

This fantasy of hers is something different, something you never thought you'd be into until now when you're faced with the opportunity—and you want nothing more than to touch her right now.

There's a bit of uncertainty in your movements, you reach for her legs and while you're opening them your hands are trembling. Your breathing quickens as you admire the sight of her perfect body before you, highlighted by the moonshine through the bedroom window.

You try your best to shrug off the nerves, then you position yourself between her legs. The moderate moistness isn't something you're used to at all. Usually, by the time you make it down there she's fucking dripping and soaked so bad that it's spread to her thighs.

However, you know it's nothing you can't fix. So you grab her thighs with your hands, refraining from squeezing them like you normally did so she doesn't wake up. Then you stuck your tongue out and flattened it against her cunt. You pause and look up. She's still asleep.

Ever so slightly, you drag your tongue up her slit, making a soft humming noise when the tangy taste attacks your tastebuds. Still no response. So you keep going as you normally would, swirling and flicking your tongue on her clit.

It only takes a few seconds for Sana to shift a bit. She tries to close her legs but you hold her a bit tighter so she doesn't. You pause for a moment, then you continue eating her out like you've been starving for her.

A soft hum escapes her lips and then her hips start squirming. You push your face deeper into her cunt, taking her clit into your mouth to suck. Then she gasps loudly, her head lifting weakly just enough so she can make eye contact with you. "Babe- what are you" Then you witness the exact moment the realization of what's going on hits her and it's priceless. "Oh fuck"

Her voice is rough and tired as she reaches her hands down to tangle your hair in between her fingers. You smile and remove your mouth then you climb over her so you're face to face. Your hand finds it's way to her sopping cunt and you rub slow circles before you connect your lips with hers.

Sana moans into the kiss, reciprocating it with some newfound strength, cause she has to reward you for doing so good. You prod her entrance with your fingers and you slide two digits inside. She breaks the kiss and moans out loud when you curl them "Pleasant surprise?" You question her with a smirk on your face as you pump in and out.

"Yeah" Sana nods frantically, all breathless with her words "I - fuck - I wasn't expecting it tonight" She moans again because you've found that spongy spot that makes her walls squeeze you tighter.

You leave a shorter kiss on her lips again "That was the point wasn't it?" You ask and she only hums, although it comes out sounding like more of a moan. You kiss along her jawline, then down to her neck "Did I do good?"

Sana can only nod her head and close her eyes "So good baby" She keens, her hips bucking into your hand as you fuck her faster and harder with your fingers. She's so wet that you can feel the slippery warmth dripping down your forearm. You think to yourself that this must've really turned her on, the thought of you using her in her sleep.

It's sick and twisted but for some reason, you like it.

She starts babbling incoherent words and you know it’s something she does when she's close. "Gonna cum for me baby?" You ask as her jaw goes slack and her moans go silent. There's only a faint, high pitched, whiny noise coming out of her mouth and she has that look of pure devastation in her eyes, like she’s cumming so hard that she almost can’t handle it.

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah" She mouths the words and then a very audible "Fuck!" and she's cumming all over your fingers. You can feel it inside, the way her walls clench and pulse in an erratic rhythm as her back arches. Her body stutters to a complete stop and then she goes rigid.

It's only a matter of time before... and there she goes, her body relaxes as the pleasureful waves wash over her and her moans turn weak and broken. You kiss her lips softly and she doesn't even try to kiss back "Now how was that?"

"I can't fucking believe... I came so hard" She tiredly runs her fingers through her hair. "I need you to do that more"

"I think I could get used that"

Now Sana's definitely got you into this shit.

By now it's almost been a month since you've had sex and it was really killing you. She's been working a lot, so you refrained from doing anything that could disturb her sleep. You only found yourself watching her at night, touching her cheek, her thighs and really any bare skin she had exposed. She looked so peaceful just laying there, breathing so slowly that you can barely hear it when she inhales.

It's exactly what you're doing right now. Her smooth skin feels so warm and soft on your palm and you don't mean to stare but you just can't take your eyes off of her face. How could someone look so pretty while they're sleeping? It's what you ask yourself every night.

You really don't intend to slide your palm higher up her leg, but you just can't resist her. Everything about her is almost too addicting. You need her. Need her creaming on your fingers, cumming in your mouth, writhing on your strap. and you need it now.

The sheets are covering her body, so you peel them off and almost immediately you feel that rush in the pit of your stomach. Then the feeling comes back tenfold, like more of a surge when you get an idea.

Maybe you're more sick and twisted than you thought you were because you crawl out of bed slowly and gently so she won't wake up. Then you go into your closet—where you have your toys stashed—and you grab this lavender strap on that you bought just recently. You haven't gotten the chance to try it out with her yet and nows a better time than any.

You pull off your clothes in the dark room, the sound of the fabric sliding against your skin so loud that you think it might wake her up. It's all in your head and you know it, but you still slow down your hurried movements.

Excitement courses through your veins as you think about how she'll react when she wakes up with your body on top of hers while you're inches deep. That unparalleled look of shock she gets. It has you fumbling with the straps as you try to get it on nice and tight. You crawl back into bed, the dip causing Sana to move just slightly.

She's sleeping like she normally does, on her side with her knees folded. You separate them so they're spread for you and you stop for a moment to see if she'll wake up. She doesn't. So you pull her shorts off, noticing that she isn't wearing any panties tonight. It's something she usually did for comfort reasons though, so you don't see it to mean anything more than that.

Still, it gave you easier access. You shuffle on your knees so you can position yourself between her legs and you reach for the lube on the bedside table. The toy is girthy and she isn't aroused right now so you don't want to hurt her. You coat the toy, and lather it up. Then you put some in your hand and gently you rub it on her cunt.

Sana hums then she takes in a deep breath and your heart drops because you think you've ruined everything. But then she's back to the way she was and you exhale in relief.

Now's the time, you guide the head to her entrance and you press it inside. Almost immediately her body has a reaction but it doesn't quite wake her up. An adorable whimper escapes her lips and the way her lips press together almost makes your heart flutter. You push your hips further inside, leaning over to get your body on hers and when you make it to the hilt you put your face in the crook of her neck.

It's around that time that she actually wakes up with a sharp gasp, her upper body trying to rise into you off of pure instinct. "What - Oh fuck... babe" She whines, dragging the four letter pet name out as you begin to move your hips nice and slow, pinning her body to the bed with yours. "Fucking hell - I can't.." She moans and you bite the flesh on her neck, a surge of arousal taking over your body while you rut into her.

"I'm sorry baby, I know you were trying to sleep... but I couldn't help myself" You mutter the needy words into her ear and she almost loses it right then and there. It's the idea that you can't control yourself when she's around you, so much so that you'll even fuck her and use her body while she's peacefully sleeping. In the back of her mind she knows you're only doing this because she asked, but it still has her clenching and dripping.

You kiss her neck and her arms sling around your back "Fuck, fuck, fuck" She chants in that breathless tone like she's struggling to handle everything. Your lips on her skin, your body on her body and most importantly this thick fucking toy stretching her out. You're ruining her.

"You weren't wearing panties darling, you have to forgive me it just seemed so easy, you should've known this would happen" You whisper it into her ear, really playing off of her little fantasy. It's sort of like role-play which is something she's also been into for a while now.

She gasps again and another choked up sob forces its way out of her throat. Sana is fucking loving this. The way this toy feels, stretching her, rubbing against her walls and hitting all the right spots has her going fucking feral. You know it because she's digging her nails into your back, scratching you so hard it'll leave red marks but you don't mind at all.

Sana's hips buck into yours and you finally bring yourself to pull your head up. Now you're facing her and the look on her face is nothing you've ever seen before. Her eyes are screwed shut and her eyebrows are upturned in the prettiest way ever. You observe her porcelain skin and the mole on her cheek, noticing the sheet of sweat which covers it. "Pl-Please don't fucking stop... don't fucking - Fuck baby it's too much" She pleads.

You only move your hips faster then you bring your hand down and you show her what "too much" actually is when you begin circling her swollen clit.

"I don't fucking.. I can't - You're so good, so deep in my cunt, so fucking good" She murmurs all the praise in the world, just make sure you know that you're doing a good job.

"Look at me princess" Your voice is steady and soft when you say it because her pussy is clenching so fucking hard on this toy and you think she might actually be trying to suck it in. Her eyes soon flutter open but they're only squinting "C'mon, let me see those pretty brown eyes" This time you're voice is a bit less steady, more shaky cause this is one hell of a workout.

Like the good girl she is, she opens them wider staring deep into your soul as you fuck her. "So pretty" You mutter, your breath hot against her face and then you lean in to kiss her "Want you to cum on this toy for me"

Sana nods her head when you break the kiss and she's staring at you again, those big beautiful eyes just begging for you to make her cum. She needs it so bad. So you keep going, pressing hard on her clit just the way she likes it and then "Fuck I'm fucking cumming baby, I'm fucking-" She cuts herself off with a loud high pitched squeal.

"There you go" You mumble, watching how her eyes roll to the back of her head as her body arches into yours. "Keep cumming for me, that's my girl" You keep it up and she begins to shudder, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth to bite down harshly. Her eyes eventually do shut and her body sinks back into the bed.

You let yourself lay against Sana's body, feeling the deep and heavy rising and falling of her chest as she catches her breath. "I never expect it" are the first words she sighs with a breathy giggle. Then she wraps her arms around your body, rubbing her hands over the scratch marks to soothe the welted skin "I'm sorry, I got a little carried away"

"I really could care less about that. I'd let you do it over and over again cause it tells me that I fucked you good" You lift your head to look at her. She smiles and you kiss her lips softly again "I love you" you mutter.

Sana can't hide the way she blushes when she says it back "I love you" She whines a bit and you wonder whats wrong "I don't wanna get up"

"Then don't" You mutter

The toy is still buried in her cunt, all the way to the hilt as you two stay like that. She doesn't seem to mind it at all. Sana only hums tiredly in response and the two of you stay like that for a while. It almost feels perfect.

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