#i can now button up shirts i only dreamed of buttoning

[spookwyrdie]

Divine Flesh

{part 1} {part 2} {part 3}

Priest Jeongin x Demon Fem Reader

summary: now that he's all chained up, what will you do to him? he'll have to accept his desire one way or another... /// word count: 7.2k /// genre: smut, angst /// warnings: priest kink, sexual themes, hierophilia, corruption kink, shame and guilt, straight up blasphemy, demons, knife play, bondage, femdom /// a/n: thanks for waiting pookies! i've been chipping away at this one for a lot longer than i expected. this is all just smut <3 luv u sexy demons, luv u faith abandoning, luv u bondage

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I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

Was he dreaming?

He must be, with the way your lips press into his. If this was a dream, it was his most intense yet. Every nerve ending was crackling with hunger, singeing his skin. Every small brush of your hand, your lips, your thigh, made him tremble. He was so incredibly aware of every part of you that came into contact with his body. This time, he could smell you - the sweet, earthy scent of incense, melted with vanilla and a sharp hint of a forest fire. But underneath that scent was something so essentially you. He couldn’t quite place it, but it made his throat burn with the desire for a taste. 

You pull his bottom lip into your soft mouth, he groans at the feeling of your tongue caressing over the sensitive, soft skin. He tries to turn his head, to take a breath, to gather his wits, but to no avail. He feels his control slipping away from him, but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is you. 

The kiss deepens and Jeongin feels like he’s falling further into you. There’s a ringing in his ears as his mind goes fuzzy. He must be dreaming, how else could he feel so intoxicated by you so quickly?

He gasps when he feels a sharp sting on his bottom lip, quickly soothed again by your tongue. 

Did you just bite him? 

His eyes shoot open as you pull away, smirking down at him. He’s back in his body, his arms and legs still chained to the slab, you still laying beside him, leg thrown over his. This isn’t a dream, he can feel the cool slab of stone beneath him. 

“You’re so responsive,” you nearly purr in his ear, pressing a chaste kiss on the edge of his jaw. A bolt of embarrassment shoots through his body at that. He’s forgetting everything he is, everything he has built, so quickly from one kiss. It’s like you were made specifically to unravel him. “I have a gift for you.”

Your hand drags across his chest, sharp nails trailing across his shirt, to reach down on the other side of him. You pick up the silver ring and hold it up for him to see. The ring itself is two inches in diameter, the band of metal is about a half inch thick with beautifully carved swirling designs in a brushed silver. Jeongin eyes it warily. 

“Wh-what is it?” 

You giggle. “A ring of course. For you to wear.”

You press the cold metal of the ring against his lips for a moment. You then bring it to your mouth and let your tongue curl around the band. Jeongin notices your tongue is sharper, longer than before. It’s still that luscious pink color he remembers placing a communion wafer on, but so much more salacious. His eyes widen, but he can’t find it in himself to be frightened by it. He’s mesmerized by the movement.

“That won’t fit my finger…”

You lean your face near his ear, “It’s not to wear on your finger, my darling.”

Confusion and yearning trickle into his chest. He’s not quite sure where it will go but he’s curious to find out. He hates this side of himself. He hates how fast he allows himself to be led by temptation. 

“You’ll wear it once you give yourself to me,” you say matter-of-factly. Setting the ring back down, you grab the dagger once more. 

“But first, let’s get a little more comfortable,” you murmur. 

Jeongin audibly gulps as you start to drag the tip of the dagger up his torso once more. You follow the strip of fabric covering the row of buttons on the front of his shirt. The combination of arousal and fear is potent, constricting his chest with anticipation. 

You shift your weight so you’re kneeling above him. The tip of the dagger rests at the junction where the clergy collar meets the edge of his shirt. A small whine leaves his throat, at your full mercy. 

You take the edge of the blade and slice down the row of buttons from his throat to the waistband of his slacks. His shirt loosens, revealing a sliver of bare chest. You place your hand on his belly, smiling down at him when you feel his abs clench under your touch.  He slams his eyes shut, his face contorting with effort to hold on to his sanctity.

Your hand is so impossibly warm in contrast to the cool stone below him and the crisp night air. With closed eyes, Jeongin can barely catch his breath. He wants you so badly he can taste it in the back of his throat. When you lightly dig your nails into his pale skin, he moans. He has to do something, anything, to not give in to you. 

As you place the blade on his torso again, he begins to pray - the only prayer that comes to mind at this moment.

Our Father, who art in Heaven-

You giggle again, trailing the blade down his sternum, the cold metal leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. 

Hallowed be thy name-

He can feel you slipping the blade underneath the waistband of his slacks, pulling it away from his skin.

Thy Kingdom come-

He hears the fabric tearing as you slice lengthwise down one leg of his slacks, revealing more of his skin to the night air. 

Thy will be done-

You slowly drag your nails from his ankle to his inner thigh, making him squirm beneath you, hips raising off the slab. He can’t tell if he’s trying to evade your touch, or chase it.

On Earth as it is in Heaven-

“I can show you heaven, Father,” you murmur before moving to slice down the other leg of his slacks.

Was he praying aloud?

Give us this day our daily bread-

His legs are bare, the pink light making his skin glow in that warm rosy hue. You slide a hand up his thigh, feeling the muscle bunch under your touch. You grab the shredded material from his slacks and pull it out from underneath him with a quick motion.

Forgive us our trespasses-

The warmth of your body leaves his side, he can feel you shifting once more. He wants to look, wants to follow your form, but he denies himself that pleasure.

As we forgive those who trespass against us-

“Jeongin,” you say in a small voice. “Look at me.”

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter.

And lead us not into temptation-

He feels his shirt falling open further as you slide both of your hands up his torso, moving to unpin his collar from the torn remnants of his shirt, pulling the shreds away from his body. Your hands graze over his nipples with a light touch. He cries out at the sensation, eyes shooting open.

Jeongin could cry at the sight.

He finds you hovering over him, straddling his body. The weight and the warmth of you looms over him mere inches from his pelvis.

But DELIVER us from EVIL-

This time he knows he’s praying aloud. He hears how his voice cracks as he spits this last line out. 

Your body is supple. The swell of your curves, the scent of you, the way you hold his gaze like nothing else - makes him sick with desire.

For Thine is the kingdom-

You wipe the tear gathering in the corner of his eye with your finger.

The power-

Bringing that tear droplet to your lips, you wrap your plump tongue around the digit, pulling it into your mouth. You hum at the taste, eyes fluttering as if in rapture from the taste of his salt.

The glory forever-

You lower your body onto him, sitting your full body weight directly on his cock. He cries from the heat from your cunt seeping through the fabric of his underwear. 

A—AMEN!

He nearly sobs, feebly pulling against his chains, chest heaving with exertion. He can’t take it, you’re too warm, too close, too alluring. Jeongin’s heart is beating hard in his chest, he can feel it in his throat. He wants to fuck you, wants to lose himself within you so badly.

Every small movement makes him more aware of how close you are. It shoots straight to his cock, hardening beneath you. He stills, breathing hard, trying to control his shaking body. The chanting of the robed figures stops abruptly. 

He can hear every noise in the forest now - or lack thereof. There is only the soft breeze that whispers through the trees of the circle. Most of all, he can hear the beating of his heart as it slows, adjusting to your weight. Your fingers rub delicate circles into his skin, grounding him in this moment. The only tether from his mind to his body is your soft caress.

“Do you hear that, Jeongin?”

He gives you a confused look, a line of worry appearing between his brows. The humming stops. There is no noise other than his heavy breathing. It’s as if the world has stopped.

“Your God is silent.”

His stomach fills with ice at your revelation. 

You’re right. He’s been abandoned. 

“He may not be listening, but I have. I want you as much as you want me.”

“No!” He shouts, lying as a last ditch effort of preserving his faith.

“Yes! I can give you everything you want, all you have to do is accept me,” you say, rolling your hips into him. “Give me all of your shame.”

A pathetic whimper spills out of him. He wants to, but he wants to punish himself for wanting. All the years of work and remorse and abstaining, he doesn’t know who he is without it. Who could he be without it?

“And if I do?” He asks weakly. “What then?”

“You’ll have to put that trust in me,” you murmur, a smile growing on your lips. “I will care for you.”

He is stunned, looking up at you with round, shining eyes. You want to care for him? Take all of his shame and guilt? To hold him, even with all the sins he’s bottled up and stored away his whole life? Jeongin chews on the inside of his lip, thinking about what kind of life he could have without the burden of guilt.

He nods ever so slightly.

“No, Father, I need your words.”

Jeongin’s heart hammers in his chest again. He has to say it out loud, to give in completely. He needs to be the one to make the decision. He takes a deep breath, knowing this will change his entire trajectory in life.

“P-please,” he whispers. 

You hum, leaning forward to press kisses into his feverish skin, drifting down his body lazily, inch by inch. “Please what?”

“Y/n, please…. I want….” He starts, but the words die in his throat. 

He watches you as you grin, that pink glow flashing in your eyes. Your face is at the level of his hips, he realizes. His cock twitches in his underwear.

“It’s a process, Jeongin,” you say, fiercely holding his gaze, “to take someone’s shame. You have to open it up, expose it, before I can take it.”

A lump grows in his throat, his anxiety skyrocketing again. His fear sits before him, the main obstacle between him and you. Acknowledging the things he feels ashamed of is one thing, but to display them to another living soul for assessment fills him with a curious dread.

While he’s lost in thought mulling that over, you take the elastic edge of his waistband with your teeth and pull it away from his body. His cock twitches again in anticipation.

SNAP!

The elastic slaps back against the sensitive skin of his pelvis. He hisses as electricity shoots through his body.

“Are you ready?”

He looks at you. Even with the teasing affection in your eyes, he feels safe. Under the thick layer of embarrassment that you so easily bring to the surface, somehow he knows you will catch him when he falls. 

He nods.

“Yes,” he whispers. “Take my shame.”

Your smile grows wide, your sharp teeth glinting in the pink glow that surrounds the two of you. Your fingers hook onto the elastic of his underwear, pushing it slowly down his hips. His cock twitches as the last piece of fabric on his body, other than his clergy collar, is peeled off inch by inch. His hardened length springs out as you move down, the tip flushed and ruddy. 

Jeongin’s breathing picks up again as your hands slowly snake up his thighs. Your form looms above his hips, dipping down as if to kiss his flushed skin. Your face is level with his hips as they shudder beneath you. He squeezes his eyes shut tight.

Oh god… you’re going to put your mouth on him.

But, just as your hands rest on his pelvis, your mouth mere inches away from the tip of his straining cock, you laugh. The heat of your breath brushing against his cock is enough to make him writhe beneath you. 

“I haven’t even touched you yet, little priest,” you mock, looking up at him.

Jeongin meets your gaze and gasps. 

Your eyes are burning pink now, glowing like a neon sign in the middle of this forest. Your pupils are blown wide, teeth sharper than they were a few moments ago. But the biggest change yet - the sleek, black horns protruding from your forehead. At your hairline, the horns twist upwards about 6 inches from your head, reflecting the glow of the circle. 

Jeongin notices that he can’t see the trees anymore. The fog has shrouded the area. He can see to the edge of the slab, but no further. Only pink clouds surround you, swirling like smoke. 

Before he has time to absorb his environment, your hand moves to hold his cock around the base. He throws his head back with a cry, your touch igniting something fierce in his belly. He has to control the shaking of his hips or he’d start rutting into your hand. 

“We’re just getting started.”

He whines, a tragic noise spilling from his throat. 

You stick your tongue out, just like you did when he placed that damned wafer on it. But this time, you let saliva drip off of it slowly. He watches the droplet form and fall - right onto his cock. 

Jeongin chokes on whatever air he had left in his lungs, forgetting how to breathe for a moment. Your hand starts to glide up his shaft, spreading the wetness around. He shudders at your touch, core muscles spasming as he tries not to lift his hips from the slab. 

Your grip is loose on him, barely enough pressure to realize your hand is there, a ghost of a touch, but he knows. He can feel it. It’s like you’re the ocean, ebbing and flowing over him, but with each wave, he gets closer and closer to breaking. 

He’s panting now like some animal, feeling his balls tighten as you keep moving your hand. His hips start meeting your movements, trying to chase your hand for more friction. A blush stains his cheeks as he feels like he’s about to find his release.

“Y/n!”

“Hmm?” 

“Mm-’m gonna-”

Suddenly, there’s no pressure, no movement, just cold air as you move your hand away. He cries, his cock bobbing helplessly, searching for any sort of feeling. Your laugh rings through the night, watching as he pulls against his chains, writhing underneath you. 

“Poor little priest,” you coo. “You thought it was going to be that easy?”

Jeongin feels tears prick his eyes again as he grunts in frustration. 

Your hand returns, caressing him again at an excruciatingly slow pace. Your thumb finds the bead of precum that decorates the tip, smearing it down his cock. The way your fingers dance around his hard length leaves him dizzy. He has to concentrate on breathing again as he finds himself approaching the edge of bliss again. 

He feels you squeeze him as you pick up the pace, rocketing him towards pleasure once again, his back arching off the slab. The sloppy, wet noises your hand makes against his length are the only thing he can hear. He’s whining again, body quaking from the heat of your hand, the speed, the ache. He grits his teeth as he’s about to-!

Then nothing. Your hand disappears once again. He cries out, his voice cracking, and you laugh at him, your sharp teeth reflecting the pink glow.

You toy with him like this many more times - bringing him to the brink and not giving him that final push over the edge. He’s delirious with want, he feels like he’s floating in the air, like he’s drowning, like he’s crashing. All he knows is every time he almost comes, he gives another piece of himself to you. The only thing he needs is your control, your touch, nothing more.

After what feels like an hour, he’s begging. Like a litany, the word “please” tumbles from his lips like a landslide. 

“Please what, Jeongin?” you ask. “What do you want?”

He gulps, trying to find his voice. “W-whatever you’ll give me.”

That earns him another slow smile. You crawl up his body, kneeling above his hips.

“Whatever I give you?”

“A-anything, please!” He’s crying now, tears from all the exertion streaming down his temples as his head rests against the slab. 

You settle your full weight on him again, this time his cock aligned perfectly against your sex. He hisses at the heat of you, already wet. The robe you wear, sheer and iridescent, dances before his eyes as he tries to concentrate. 

“Anything?”

“ANYTHING!” He grits out. 

You grind your hips down on his, sliding yourself over the length of him. He thinks he’s going to die, the pleasure is too intense, his breath shuddering in his lungs. Your eyebrows pinch together, throwing your head back as you roll your hips, losing yourself in the feeling of every vein, every ridge of his cock. He’s hard, pulsing, and wet as you grind your clit on him. You lean forward, pressing your hands against his chest, using his body to steady yourself as you move against him.

Jeongin looks up at you in awe, the glint of the pink light off of your horns framing your head like an unholy halo. He pulls against his chains again, but this time not as a way to evade your touch. He needs more, he wants his hands on you. He wants his lips on your skin. He wants to feel you as you unravel him, to hold you as he dies in your arms. He whines and pulls at the manacles on his wrists, rattling them against the stone.

“What is it you want, priest?”

“Y/n, I-” he starts, trying to lift himself up as you continue to grind on his cock. His eyes flutter at the sensation as he sighs. “I want…”

“Yes?”

“I want YOU,” he groans. “Please! I need to touch you!”

Your movements slow, your eyes filling with affection as you look down at him. The sight is contradictory. Your new frightening features - sharp teeth, horns, glowing eyes - are filled with a softness one wouldn’t expect from a demon. It makes him want you more. 

“Do you give yourself to me?”

“YES!” he shouts, happily accepting defeat. “You can have me.”

You lean over his body, moving to unchain him. Your plump breasts are inches from his face, covered by only that sheer robe. He strains his neck as he tries to press his face into you, to feel you. To taste you.

The tension from the chains leaves his wrists, his arms automatically bending, sore from all the time he’s spent on this slab tonight. He watches you as you move down to his ankles, undoing the manacles around them as well. He sits up, wrapping his arms around your middle as you straddle him again. Your skin is warm and soft as velvet. Your scent is even stronger now that he’s so close. 

Jeongin gazes at you again, the remnants of tears dotting his eyelashes, sparkling in the glowing light. He's never seen such a beautiful, terrifying sight. So different you are compared to the blushing parishioner who he fed communion to.

“Y/n…” he sighs your name. 

“Jeongin…” you smile back at him. Your hands cup his cheeks, tenderly wiping away the tears. “Are you ready for your gift?”

He nods his head eagerly.

“Say it.”

He feels a blush rise to his cheeks again. “I- I’m ready for my gift.”

You reach over, grabbing the ring, holding it up in the light. It reflects the glow surrounding them. The ornate design on the silver looks like it’s moving, undulating like oil swirling on top of water. Jeongin is mesmerized by it, tentative curiosity burning in his stomach at what it could be for. 

You press it to your lips gently, then lift it to his mouth. He looks at you quizzically before pecking it lightly. You hold it between your bodies for a moment, smiling at him with all the warmth a deity could feel for a devotee. Then, you twist your hand, as if snapping your fingers - and the ring disappears into thin air. 

Before he has time to question what happened, he gasps as he feels a throbbing in his cock. He feels more sensitive than he’s ever felt in his whole life, squeezing his eyes shut and hissing at the sensation. It’s as if he can feel the very air molecules move through the breeze, his skin crackling with electricity. 

What IS this?

He looks down between your bodies and balks. The ring is sitting at the base of his cock, encircling his shaft. The blood pounding through his veins is being trapped there, pulsing harder with every heartbeat. The tip of his cock is bright red and weeping. He has never felt like this before. It’s alarming but the fear is drowned out by the massive wave of lust that washes over him, pulling him into its wild current. His hands find purchase in your skin. He squeezes your plush hips, fingers digging into your flesh, holding on for dear life. 

You giggle again, tilting his chin up towards your face. He blinks at you, eyes watering from everything he feels in this moment. 

“This is what it feels like to be mine,” you say, and press your lips to his. 

Jeongin gasps into your mouth. Now that he doesn’t have chains to hold him down, he moves against you. His hands wander, one trailing up to thread his fingers through your hair, the other pulling your body as close to him as possible. Your tongue grazes his lips, asking for entry, and he’s more than happy to oblige. 

You taste sweet as he explores your mouth. Your body temperature is hotter than his, and he happily burns with every new touch. You’re soft and intense, pulling back and then crashing down on him over and over again. He revels in how powerless he is with you, worshipping your level of control over him. The need to show you his new found devotion swells within him, his cock bobbing in anticipation for what he’s about to do. You pull away, gazing at him. 

“What is it you want, my little convert?”

The new nickname slams into his heart. Until now, he didn’t realize how far he was willing to jump off the ledge of his faith for you. Convert is right, he is your newest disciple. He takes a shuddering breath.

“Please,” he whispers. “Let me give you an offering.”

Your brow quirks as you grin, gesturing for him to continue. He pushes his hand against your sternum, directing you to lay down. As you settle yourself into the slab, he’s now the one that looms over your body. He reaches up behind his head with shaking hands, and unpins his collar, tossing it to the side.

Jeongin doesn’t even know where to begin. It’s been so long since he’s looked at another person so intimately, let alone touched them. He picks up the dagger, noticing a small tremor in his hand. You watch him carefully, but make no move to stop him. Whatever is about to happen will happen, it all comes down to Jeongin and his crisis of faith. 

He holds the dagger up to the light for a split second, then places it near your throat. There is no fear in your eyes though, only affection and trust, as he lifts the edge of your robe and begins slicing down the shimmering fabric. Jeongin is obsessed with the way your body reacts to his ministrations, squirming as he travels down your body with the blade. When he gets to the peaks of your breasts, your nipples pebble as he tears the fabric further, the ripping sounds filling the air. Tracing over the tattoo in the middle of your torso, he marvels. It’s as if he’s unwrapping the greatest gift he’s ever received. 

He hears your breath quicken as he gets to the bottom edge of the fabric. The dagger clatters to the stone again. He doesn’t care, all he needs is his hands on your skin as soon as possible. He starts at your ankles, sliding his hands up your legs, similar to the way you touched him earlier. The torn fabric of the robe slips open as he moves his hands up your thighs, brushing his thumbs lightly over the neat thatch of hair that frames your cunt. Your hips jolt at the tender touch.

He smiles as he travels further up - your hips, your belly, your ribs. You’re squirming by the time he reaches your breasts. The soft whimpers leaving your lips are enough to drive him to madness. He wants to hear more, wants to know what other sorts of sounds he can pull from your throat. 

Your skin is raised in goosebumps everywhere his hands have touched. His hands palm your breasts, massaging the soft skin. He wants to bury himself in you, but he forces himself to focus on the noises you’re making, the way you squirm underneath him.  He’d be rutting against your leg like a desperate animal otherwise. He grazes his thumbs over your nipples and smiles as your core muscles clench. It’s enough to make him feel like a king to make you this wanton with his touch. 

He descends on you, pulling one of your nipples into his mouth. The way you keen at the feel of his wet mouth over the sensitive tips of your breasts shoots straight to his cock, filling him with a crazed need. You arch your back, pressing your chest into him, seeking more friction, as your hands tangle up in his hair. 

He needs more, this small taste of you is not enough. He wants to drink from you, absorb you, make you one with him. He kisses a trail between the valley of your breasts, moving further and further down your belly. As he nears your sex, he pushes your legs open, enthralled by the sight of your wet cunt. Flushed and dripping, ready for the taking- he wets his lips at the sight and lowers himself onto his stomach.

Jeongin makes quick work of wrapping your legs around his shoulders, hooking his arms over your thighs, holding you steady. The heat of his lips finds your swollen bundle of nerves, pressing a featherlight kiss directly on it. Your hips jolt again as you moan, your hand grabbing at his hair to steady yourself. He sticks his tongue out, about to receive the body of his new god in unholy communion.

The glorious taste of you floods his senses as he descends, licking a slow stripe from your entrance to your clit. He’s dazed by it. Sweet, musky, and so essentially you. He could spend hours here, this could feed him for eons. The way your legs squeeze around his head as he teases your clit, the whimpers he draws from you as he plays with you, it fills him with the same religious ecstasy he thought he could only feel from prayer. 

Maybe this is his new form of prayer. It could easily turn into his favorite.

With his mouth still attached to you, he looks up to find you staring back at him, thrusting slightly against his tongue. Your eyes are hooded and glazed over while they glow even brighter than before. 

“Jeongin…” you pant out. “Y-your fingers. Use your fingers.”

He’s never been one to be told twice. One of his arms snakes back down underneath you, slowly dipping one into your eager cunt. It’s as if it sucks him in, feeling the warmth of your body. You rock your hips into him, throwing your head back with another guttural noise. 

“A-another,” you moan. “More!”

He sinks another in, gently stretching you open as his tongue still laps at your clit. Your eyes roll up as he hooks his fingers slightly, finding that sensitive spot inside you. The way your jaw slackens leaves your lips shiny with drool. You race towards your climax, with Jeongin tapping on the spot inside you and barraging your clit at the same time. Arousal drips from his fingers, from his chin, smearing it on your inner thighs. 

It’s when he sucks your clit between his lips, batting it around in circles with his tongue in the vacuum of his hot mouth, do you finally shatter. Your muscles flutter around his fingers rhythmically as you cry out his name. But he doesn’t stop. As you thrash around, he is determined to ride out your orgasm with you, drawing every last bit out of you until you’re pushing him away, laughing from the overstimulation. He pulls back with a smile, the lower half of his face fully drenched in you.

“Th-that was…” you gasp for air, still giggling at how sensitive your body is. “That was perfect.”

As you come down from your high, he sits up, massaging your thighs. He has to keep contact with your body as much as possible, he needs it. It takes him a while to notice, that his cock is harder than it’s ever been in his life. He looks down, the new silver ring making him shiver, as his cock bobs every few seconds, seeking out any sort of friction. There’s a wet spot on the slab beneath him where he was laying down, precum dribbling out of his tip. Another wave of desire rolls through his body and he shuts his eyes.

After you catch your breath, you notice him shivering between your legs. You reach your hand down, a finger tracing around the shape of his weeping cock. 

“Poor neglected Jeongin,” you purr. “You’ve been so good, waiting as long as you have.”

He whines involuntarily at the feeling of your finger on him, the smallest stimulation enough to make his hips shake. You slow down as the pad of your finger taps gently on his slit, a bead of precum adorning the tip like a pearl.

“So needy…so responsive,” you say, making no move to speed up your hand. He gasps at every new brush of your fingertip, trying his best to stay still. “You deserve a reward for your efforts.”

His eyes lock with yours, trying to see if you’re teasing him. You smile at him, wrapping a hand around his cock, delicately pulling him towards you. He tips forward, arms caging around your head to catch himself from falling on top of you. 

“W-what’s my reward?”

You smile again, another giggle escaping your lips.

“What do you want as your reward?”

“I-” he starts, but he’s at a loss for words. It still scares him to be so open about his desires.

“We can’t do anything until you ask,” you say, slowly gliding your hand up and down his shaft. He groans at the feeling, knowing he could come from just this. “I want you to ask.”

A small fire of confidence burns in his chest. You are so sure of yourself, so ready to express desire, ready to direct his motions to make you feel good. He wants to be able to do the same. 

“I… I want,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I want to be inside of you.”

He cringes at the words coming out of his mouth, a ripple of shame shuddering through him. Your hand leaves his cock, and for one anxious moment he thinks you’re going to reject him, to leave him here, disgusted by his desire. But instead, your hands find his hips, pulling him in further, until his cock presses up against your sex. 

“Good,” you say, grinning at him. “I want that too. I want that so bad.”

You rock your hips slowly, teasing his cock as it slips between your folds. The wetness from earlier spreads on his cock and he whimpers at the feeling. He drops down on his elbows, his lips finding yours again in a long, languid kiss. You two find a rhythm of just moving against one another. Every few thrusts, the tip of his cock will catch on your entrance, but he makes no move to push in. He just loves the feeling of you, he doesn’t need anything else.

”Jeongin…” you whisper, breaking away from the kiss for a moment. “Take it. Take what you want.”

He freezes above you, looking into your eyes. You’re going to make him decide to be an active participant rather than a passive toy. The decision rests on his shoulders. He looks down between your bodies where his cock sits mere inches away from what he wants. His eyes anxiously meet yours again. You give him a small nod, one full of confidence, one full of encouragement and praise.

Taking his cock in his hand, he lines up with your entrance. He inhales a steadying breath, feeling his whole body tremble with the weight of his choice. There’s no coming back from this. The vow of celibacy he took years ago was full of confidence that he’d never have a temptation greater than his love of the Lord. But no one had ever offered him something as tempting as this. Either he stops now and throws himself at the mercy of the church, embracing his guilt… or he chooses himself, giving himself to a new experience of trust and desire.

He chooses to trust you. He chooses desire.

He moans as he sinks into your heat, being pulled in the same way his fingers were earlier. His pace is agonizingly slow, trying to soak in every detail of this experience. The slight clench of your muscles, the gasp you make as he presses himself further in, the way your nails dig into his shoulders. As his cock rests inside the tight warmth of your body, he looks down. He’s seated all the way to the hilt, fully sheathed inside of you. Only a small glint of the silver ring wrapped around his shaft is visible. 

The sight makes his cock throb, twitching inside you. He pulls out slowly, and sinks back into you, savoring every second. He finds an excruciatingly slow pace with you, wanting to burn this sensation into his memory. Your hands roam his body, grabbing on to his back. You meet every thrust with your own, bottoming out each time, making him choke at the feeling. 

One hand cradles at his face, a gesture so sweet he could cry. He feels the tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. 

“I have a different collar for you,” you say with a smirk, and gently slip your hand down to his neck, holding him there comfortably. He pushes against your grip, feeling the squeeze against his veins, making him light headed. 

His hips start to pick up the pace, slamming back into you with each thrust. The atmosphere fills with the sound of your bodies meeting, rhythmic and wet. He drops to his elbows again, boxing his forearms around your head. He captures your lips again in a possessive, searing kiss. Your hands move to his back, scratching your nails on his sensitive skin. 

Your moans combine, sharing the same breath, harmonizing, as he chases his own high. He can feel his balls tightening, his cock getting somehow harder as he pounds into you. He is delirious, getting lost in the feeling of you - but he needs you to come with him, it’s what he wants more than anything. He moves to sit up slightly, changing your position so he gets a perfect view of your body and his cock disappearing inside of you. He slides a hand down where your bodies meet and starts rubbing gentle circles around your clit with his thumb as he chases his own bliss. He wants you there with him when he finally comes.

You keen at the feeling of his thumb, your breasts bouncing with every hard thrust of his hips. He’s holding onto your waist, supporting your body weight. The pink glow of your eyes is fierce again as you get closer to the edge. 

You arch your back off the slab as you find your peak for the second time, pelvic muscles twitching around his cock. Your voice takes over your vocal chords as you groan. It’s enough to pull him over the edge with you. Just as he tips over the edge, you grab his face suddenly. 

“Look at me!” your voice rings out. “Feed me your shame!”

His eyes find yours, burning in that pink glow. Your gaze feels like a magnet, like you’re pulling him in impossibly further. He couldn’t look away if he tried. It’s like you’re sieving away the little parts of himself that make him burnwith pathetic regret. 

Jeongin’s vision goes pink as tears stream down his face, a flowing path on his cheeks. His whole body feels like it’s bursting with light. His voice echoes into the night as the pink clouds swirl around him, filling his head. All he knows is you, he doesn’t care about the rest anymore. 

Jeongin comes deep inside you, his hips slamming into yours, the flutter of your cunt milking him of every last drop. Sobs wracking his whole body as he trembles, the tears spilling down his face feel like a new kind of reverence. He loves you, he worships you, he kneels for you. His hips stutter, overstimulation taking over, but he doesn’t want to stop. He needs to feel you, always. 

Is this what it feels like to meet God? 

His vision is doubled, his head feeling dizzy and light from the blinding pleasure. As his eyes roll back, his cock twitches for the last time, and he collapses against you, unconscious.

~~~

When he finally surfaces from that inky black nothing, Jeongin feels like he got hit by a truck. He’s not quite awake, but he’s aware of his surroundings. It’s quiet as the pale, misty light of morning shines in his eyes. He can feel the warm blankets and bedsheets cocooning him in his bed. He is warm. He’s in his bedroom. Disappointment floods his veins. It was just a dream. He buries himself further into his cocoon, ashamed of what his mind apparently conjured up. 

It’s strange, though - usually after one of his dreams, he wakes up hard and desperate, or covered in a mess he made while sleeping. Currently, he just feels tired. This experience was also so much more vivid than any of his previous dreams. He can remember your taste, your smell, your touch. Tears prick in his eyes, burning them. This is just another sin he has to atone.

Jeongin still wants you. That hasn’t gone away, and now it’s gotten worse. You live in his heart now, not only his shameful fantasies. His brain had to imagine you as a demon to justify the things he wanted from you. Anger bubbles up inside him, and he throws the covers off of him, sitting up in bed. 

He’s naked under the covers. He never sleeps in the nude! That’s another sign of his perversion, another thing he’ll have to confess. He drops his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes furiously. Ignoring the images of his dream that start to flash in his memory, he marches himself into the bathroom, determined to shower off the sickly guilt. 

As he turns on the light, he yelps as he looks in the mirror. He’s covered in bruises and scratches, his wrists are a lovely shade of burgundy where the manacles sat against his skin. His eyes travel downwards. There, sitting snugly against the base of his cock, is the silver ring. 

A wave of elation crashes over him! 

“It was real!” he gasps. He cautiously touches the silver ring, hoping it’s not just a hallucination.

“Of course it was real, my little convert,” your voice purrs in his ear. 

Jeongin shrieks as he looks back in the mirror. You stand behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder. Your hands move to wrap around his midsection possessively. You press a kiss to the side of his neck and he shivers.

“Do you think your mind could conjure up all these marks?” you ask, licking a stripe up his neck. 

“N-no…” he stammers, trying to hold back a smile as his eyes flutter again. He revels in your touch again, in the safety of your arms. If he’s losing his mind, he doesn’t care. He’s with you. ”I just thought with me waking up in my bed-”

“Shhh,” you shush him, placing a hand over his mouth. “Don’t think too hard, you’ll pop a blood vessel.”

“But I woke up feeling guilt again,” he moves his head to free his mouth and frowns. “How? I thought you took my shame.”

“I told you it was a process. It’s not like it all goes away after one time. Besides, you’re teeming with it, I’m going to keep you around because you fed me so well.” 

Your hand shifts to rest on his neck, holding him there as you kiss the sensitive spot right behind his ear, dragging your teeth lightly over his skin. 

“You’re mine now, little priest,” you say, a slow, sultry smile blooms on your face. The hand not holding his neck trails down his midsection towards his cock, palming over his semi-hard length. Your nails toy with the silver ring, tracing the pattern of it. 

“And I’m yours. You can’t get rid of me. All you have to do to summon me is touch your ring.”

He sighs, leaning back into your touch, the relief he feels in this moment is insurmountable. Being in your arms like this makes his mind drift away comfortably, knowing that you’ll be the control he needs. He leans his head back, surrendering to your soft touch.

He chooses desire. 

He chooses you.

~~~~~

{part 1} {part 2}

💘

taglist: @jeonginsleftcheek @honeyybbuubblleess @simpforleeknaur @starzpuppy @iwannahugchangbin

[mercs4life]

Me: can I work out in a binder

Internet: Do Not Ever Work Out In A Binder

Me: ...

Me: .... but what if I do anyway

[undyinglantern]

kuroken you will always be special to me

[lale-txt]

❥ 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 ↳ 𝐰/ 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮, 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮, 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨, 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚, 𝐎𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢 & 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚

a/n: reader is gn! i started drafting those during one of the first sticky hot summer nights of the year, then forgot about it until this came over me once again like a fever, and now here we are. i love writing drabbles because they force you to really think about the chars, how you perceive them and how to nail their unique personalities in 200 words or less. anyway, this is my first time writing for HQ after the brainworms got me down bad and i had lots of fun! hope you'll enjoy them too ♡

word count: 1.3k

𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔 whines when you have the audacity to kick him back towards his end of the couch, catching your ankle and pulling you towards him in return, stubbornly ignoring your protests. Too hot to cuddle, my ass, he pouts, genuinely offended that you’d even consider that; when the only time Atsumu ever feels a sense of calm is when part of you touches him. Your hand playing with the shaved hair in the back of his neck, your leg hooked over his hipbone as you sprawl out in bed together, hell, even your icy cold feet shoved underneath his butt during winter. Something was missing when he couldn’t have your proximity. Yer so needy, Tsumu. So what if he was? He pulls you into his lap, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, hands tightening around your waist. His breath fanning over your skin, hot and cool against it. Atsumu takes, he demands, but with you he is pleading, silent for once. Just a little longer–dreaming, breathing you in, kissing till he feels you smiling against his lips.

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 wears his hair shorter now, back at its natural dark color, too. You helped him buzz it off during one of those sticky summer nights. Both of you in nothing but your underwear, Osamu sitting on the edge of the bathtub in your cramped bathroom. One hand of yours holding a razor and the other clamped over your mouth because you horribly messed up a setting and now he had a funny little edge in his hair, throwing you both in a laughing fit. It was your first summer together and Osamu couldn’t help but hope that there would be many more like this to come, with your bodies orbiting each other, unable to keep your hands off despite the heat and the sweat, the air heavy and electric and yet so light whenever he hears you laugh. Nothing beats the feeling of lifting you up on the kitchen counter and your eyes lingering on his hands, shaping a midnight snack for the both of you, getting drunk on stolen glances and kisses. There’s many metaphors for food and love and right now, Osamu can taste them all on the tip of your tongue.

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 hasn’t even kicked his shoes off at the entrance yet and is already loosening his tie, before slender fingers work down button for button on his shirt. He hears you laugh about his demeanor from the other end of the hallway. How lucky, he thinks to himself. To have someone waiting for him at home, making even long work days during the most miserable summer heat bearable. His shirt has barely hit the floor and he’s already on you, caging you in with his arms and covering every inch of your skin he can reach in kisses, despite your giggling and feigned huffing over how sticky he is, sending him to shower first (as if you wouldn’t come right after him). Kuroo purrs when your hands tangle in his hair. In the end you always pull him back towards your lips again, swallowing every little quip and taunt like candy, sweet and syrupy in your mouth. It reminds him how he fell in love with you many summers ago, his heart ablaze ever since.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 is glued to the fan at this point. He even switched gaming from his desktop set-up to a handheld console, reluctantly admitting that his old house would heat up even more with his computer running at full blast. His expression really says it all when you approach him, silently pleading for cuddles. Kenma just can’t understand how anyone would seek someone else’s body heat when the sun outside was already doing a pretty good job in trying to end him. Still, he isn’t immune to your charms, never was (one time he mumbled something about your stats being way too high and how everything changed once he received a love buff of yours). When you hold out a popsicle as a means of bribery and blink at him with those damn soft eyes of yours, Kenma pauses his game and holds out his arms. He hums into the kiss you give him before sitting down in his lap, your lips tasting like ice cream and summer love. He rests his chin on your shoulder, face nuzzled against your neck, before he continues his game, letting you feed him the sweet cold treat. Summer might have become a little more bearable with you in his life–though he was already looking forward to many winters under the kotatsu with you. 

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 is squishing your cheeks together, his thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth. Collecting evidence, but also wanting to feel your tongue poke out slightly against it, cheeky as ever. Just how could you eat the last ice cream in the freezer without him? He lets out an exaggerated huff, feigned indignation, both of you knowing he can never keep this up for too long–not when it comes to you. Oikawa leans down to kiss you, your face still in a tight grip, tasting the remains of the ice cream on your lips, as if you weren’t sweet enough already. Maybe he can be bribed for another kiss when you offer a midnight walk to the 7/11 down the street, promising to pay for a cool sweet treat to make it up to him. He had already forgotten what he was mad about the moment you leaned into the kiss, but he’ll never say no to a chance to hold your hand, even if it’s sticky with leftover ice cream and the summer heat. To Oikawa, love is stored in the mundane things, even if his love for you is anything but that.

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 is standing in the kitchen past midnight, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers while he roams the freezer for anything to help him cool down; even a pack of frozen peas would do. He feels a pang of guilt for having peeled away from you, your form pressed so tightly against him in his sleep, it almost gave him a heat stroke–for more reason than one. Everything is sticky and airless and Iwaizumi is sure that if he would have glanced at you even a minute longer, his heart might have just given out on him. All this love he holds for you, burning him up from the inside, like a fever. He lets out a long exhale when he presses an ice bag against the back of his neck, but it’s not that what causes a shiver down his spine; it’s two arms sneaking around his waist from behind, your sleepy voice mumbling out his name, your body melting into his again. The first kiss pressed on the side of your neck is an apology, the second one a promise. The third–to devour you.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 grumbles something about you being too sticky and sweaty, making a weak attempt to shove you back to your side of the bed, only to pull you back by your hips when you actually do leave some room between you. He can’t help it, you fit so perfectly in the curve of his body, your back pressed against his chest, one of his knees nudged between your legs, all tangled up. It’s the perfect position to plant kisses on the back of your neck, too. Kiyoomi loathes those hot summer nights in the concrete city. He’d rather be somewhere else with you, somewhere to breathe more easily through this heat. Maybe you should move to the countryside, yes. A small house with lots of green surrounding it. Less people and noise, just you and him. Yeah, he would like that. He kisses the back of your neck once more and takes a slow, deep inhale of your sweet scent, before sleep finally crawls upon him again. For now he’ll endure this heat, anything, as long as he can hold you in his arms like this–and have a cold shower with you in the morning, maybe.

[fairlyang]

Sharing ⚔️🐺

w/c: 2.4K

pairing: logan howlett x wade wilson x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. mmf threesome, pure filth, jealousy, cunnilingus, blowjob, fingering, throating fucking, wade being wade, finger sucking, logan fucks you, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), creampie, cum slurping (??)

a/n: this is my first fic for both characters! watched all the x-men bc of my second rewatch of dp&w and i’m in love w that old man. also this took me a week to write 🧍‍♀️

you didn’t know how but you somehow were able to get both wade and logan into bed with you.

a dream come true but the downside was the fact they were both acting all territorial and not at all wanting to pull away from you.

when you first started they both wanted to make out with you and you had to switch off quickly before the bickering began. though having them each suck one breast was enough for a short while. 

but now logan was devouring your pussy like the starved man he was and although wade let him have a turn first, he grew impatient fast. very fast.

unfortunately his unmedicated adhd was of no help to him and if anything just made things even worse for him.

now he didn't believe in the saying "save the best for last" because he was aching to taste you. he was so fucking hard, he swore it was more painful than having blue balls. 

finally, after enjoying the show for a solid three minutes, he groaned and shook logan's shoulder to get his attention. "don't be so fucking stingy old man, give me a turn." wade complained and groaned some more.

logan ignored him and kept his eyes on you, sucking on your clit while he teased your entrance with the tip of his finger making you whine. he moaned against you sending shivers all throughout your body meanwhile wade was all pouts and damn near stomping his feet. 

logan continued ignoring him because if he was one thing, it was stubborn. 

on the other hand, wade was relentless and wasn’t going to give up so easily, and luckily he knew how to push logan’s buttons. 

“come on grandpa, I know you’ll get tired soon enough anyway, just tap out.” wade pestered, earning himself a low growl from the older man.

you could only giggle at wade’s reaction, finding his eagerness to be cute and in a way, needy.

logan on the other hand rolled his eyes and wanted to stab him with his claws somewhere it’d take a while to regenerate just to have more time with his head buried between your thighs, but he opted against it. he didn’t want to ruin your bed with his blood. 

"you both said you'd be fine with sharing.." you say and point a finger at them both.

logan looked up at you and you gave him a look, earning yourself an eye roll. he pulled away and groaned, wiping your arousal from his face with the back of his hand before he stands up so wade could take his rightful seat between your legs. "better do it right, bub." 

"you bet your ass i'm gonna do it right, just look at this beauty." he says and lets out a little whistle before admiring how you were glistening already.

all wet and ready for him.

"yeah you're gonna have to surgically remove me from this perfect fucking pussy." he murmurs then dives right in while logan comes up at you and curses at him.

you playfully rolled your eyes at him and put your hand on his cheek before pulling him in for a kiss. he immediately kissed back and didn't waste a singular second to slide his tongue into your mouth. 

that’s when wade decided to pull your legs up and keep them steady while he lapped at your folds, making you moan in logan’s mouth. he groaned back and let his hands wander over your body, squeezing your tits, hips, everything he could get his hands on. 

your hands traced along his pecs, collarbones, then slowly going down as he deepens the kiss — electricity surging through your body, and the overall feeling of warmness radiating off each other was palpable. 

you pull away from him so you can see his belt so you can quickly take it off. he took his shirt off while you took the belt off and unbottoned his pants. he sat up and you tried to take his pants off with haste but it seemed wade also wanted your attention on him as he slipped a finger inside you making you gasp. 

logan rolled his eyes, letting out a growl as he took his own pants off and throwing them on the floor. he sat up, knees on the bed and spread wide as he grabbed your attention by clicking his tongue, “focus over here, princess.” 

it easily got your attention, like a moth to a flame. too easy. 

you leaned up and started stroking him through his boxers, he closed his eyes and moaned. you smiled and with one quick movement slid his boxers down making his cock spring up and hit his stomach. 

you looked at it speechless and nearly drooling. it was the perfect amount of thick and long, precum leaking down the tip and a solid vein on the side. you tried to sit up a bit but wade’s grip on your legs wasn’t budging so you just began to stroke him. 

he leaned down a bit — his eyes back on you — and it was just enough to kiss his tip so you did before tasting the precum and licking it from your lips making him groan. the sight was as good as he imagined it, hell even fucking better. 

"fuck-" he moaned and put a hand on your head, urging you to do something.

wade looks up at you then at logan with his eyes rolled to the back of his head and you're just giving him kitten licks. he pulls away from your clit to let out a chuckle then speaks directly at you as he slowly fingers you, "don't tease the old man, baby. we gotta respect our elders."

you looked down at him then nodded — turning your attention back to logan's cock. wade's grip loosened just a tad bit so you could move your body up to try to take his cock in your mouth. you opened wide and slap it on your tongue, not being able to help the urge to tease him anyway.

logan grunted and thrusted his hips forward, "come on bub i'm dying over here." he groaned making you chuckle.

"patience is a virtue." you tease, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

he groans and shakes his head before holding your head still and makes you take the tip inside your mouth. you moan against him and immediately take more of him in your mouth while stroking his shaft. "you know that's not my strong suit, bub."

“and never will be peanut.” wade snickers and slips a second finger inside you. 

you moan against logan’s cock and slowly bob your head back and forth while wade tries to match your pace. you quickly notice what he’s trying to do and try to fit more of logan in your mouth but he was just so thick. 

he slowly began to thrust his hips forward, making you take it so you just relaxed and let him. you breathed through your nose and brought a hand down to hold one of wade’s. he grabbed it softly and gave it a squeeze while he continued fucking you, a bit faster now. 

you reached your other hand up to logan and he grabbed it, rubbing his thumb against your skin while your name slipped out of his lips like a prayer, because he just can’t help it.

your mouth felt so good, so heavenly. he knew this should’ve been done sooner but better late than never.

you closed your eyes and slowly laid your head down on the mattress so he could do the work, you turned your head more to the side and he started going faster. meanwhile wade added a third finger and was matching logan’s pace while he looked at the view with pure lust in his eyes. 

“doing so good pumpkin, treating our old man how he deserves huh?” wade purrs making you clench against his fingers. 

wade went back to your clit and started sucking then alternating to flicking it with his tongue. you were letting out muffled moans but they were just overpowered by logan’s. he looked down at you and moaned, “atta girl, just like that baby. takin’ it so good.” 

“put that mouth to good use peanut, she’s been so sassy with us recently.” wade chimes in making logan chuckle. 

“she has, hasn’t she?” he groans and slows down but starts going deeper. 

wade matches that as well and that’s when he takes full notice on how your juices were dripping down his fingers, “jesus it’s like niagara falls down here except i could drink this up for the rest of my life.” 

logan smirks and finally stops, sliding himself off so you can breathe. you take a deep a breath and wade slips his fingers out of you as well making you whine. he gasps and points a finger at logan, “what kind of sorcery is this?!?!!”

“i want a taste.” he mutters and wade sticks his fingers out earning himself a loud growl. 

you roll your eyes and sit up, reaching for his arm before opening your mouth and taking all his fingers in your mouth — tasting yourself while you made eye contact with him. 

after tasting all your juices, you pull his hand away with a plop then turn to logan and grab his arm to pull him down before pulling him in for a kiss. you stuck your tongue inside his mouth and before you knew it he started kissing back, able to taste how sweet you are. 

you pulled away and laid back down, looking at them both before they exchanged looks, “move over wilson, it’s my turn.” he responds and climbs off the bed. 

wade climbs on top of the bed and takes logan’s previous position because he did say he would try his best to share. he never liked sharing any of his toys but with you, it might be different. 

unfortunately logan was a fucking liar, and as much as he loved tasting you, he needed to be inside you even more. 

he spread your legs and positioned himself to your entrance, teasing you with just the tip while you licked wade’s wet tip. “thanks for warming her up for me, bub.” he says, giving wade a sly wink then sliding inside you with ease. 

your walls clamped against him, and you couldn’t help the whimpers that came out. he made himself fit and just slid all the way in, to take in how you feel. 

you were so tight, squeezing him to absolute perfection he could’ve sworn he was seeing stars. 

you were about to take wade into your head when he shook his head and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his cock, “your mouth can take a small break, cupcake.” 

you grinned up at him and began to stroke him, he was also thick like logan. now you were just confused how the hell you didn’t think of doing this sooner. 

logan was now slowly starting to fuck into you, just wanting to be as deep as he can be because you just molded onto his cock like a missing puzzle piece. he held onto the back of your thighs and leaned down a little, thrusting back and forth while he held eye contact with you. 

you were already teary eyed, looking so fucked out, in bliss. your eyes were fluttering and you could’ve sworn you were dreaming. “how’s that cock feel baby?” wade asked and you just moaned. 

he grinned and just watched how you took logan, how your body was reacting to his and how he swore he could cum a whole ocean just from watching. 

logan began going faster, having a similar reaction to wade. you looked so fucking pretty taking him, and trying your best to stroke wade. so fucking perfect. 

“bet you’re close huh, gramps?” wade cuts his thoughts and he could only grunt. “can’t even blame you really… not at all actually. but we gotta make sure our girl finishes too.” he adds and that he could agree with. 

you bring your unoccupied hand down to start rubbing your clit and instantly feel that familiar feeling in your lower belly. “gonna cum for us, baby?” wade purrs and you just nod while letting out mixed moans with both of their names. 

“that’s my good girl.” logan murmurs, making you whimper. 

“our good girl.” wade corrects making logan chuckle. 

“our good girl.” logan grunts, earning himself some desperate little cries from you.

your legs began to shake and you continued stroking wade, going as fast as you could. within seconds you could feel him twitching and logan’s thrusts started to become sloppy. “please cum inside me.”  you murmur making both men groan. 

with one final thrust, logan released his load deep inside you, your orgasm hit you hard — making you a shaking mess and a mix of moans and cries leaving your lips. meanwhile wade was groaning and spilling his load all over you, some made it to your mouth and some even down to your belly. 

the room was filled with loud breaths and the strong smell of sex that just intoxicated logan’s nostrils. he caught his breath and looked down at you, eyes fluttering and a cute little smile on your face. 

he slowly brought your legs down, letting them rest on the soft mattress before slowly sliding out of you. you calmed your breathing down and let go of wade’s dick. when you felt logan’s dick slip out, you instantly felt his load come out and drip down to your asshole. 

as if a physical light bulb lit up above wade’s head, he quickly got off the bed, and went between your legs and not hesitating for one second to slurp up absolutely every drop of the mixed fluids. 

you and logan both looked at him with shocked looks on your faces, absolutely stunned. 

he didn’t pull away until you were absolutely clean and no remnants were to be seen. he finally looked up at you both and just shrugged, “when else would i get the chance?” 

“we could always do it again?” you offer and shrug, trying to be nonchalant as if your brain isn’t already filled with more ideas. 

“do i smell a part two?” wade asks, raising an eyebrow before getting up just to lay next to you while logan did the same. 

maybe sharing wouldn’t be the end of the world.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 ? ❞

❝ ALL THESE PEOPLE THINK LOVE'S FOR SHOW, BUT I WOULD DIE FOR YOU IN SECRET ! ❞

✧ pairing: suguru geto x sorcerer! reader

✧ summary: suguru's birthday spent with you is like a dream -- the perfect day spent in bliss, but what happens when the dream has to come to an end?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, jjk compliant au (reader is a sorcerer), domesticity, cuddling, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), improper massage technique, some angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc / geto's defection),

✧ wc: 3,015

The first thing Suguru felt were fingertips brushing against his cheek.

“Morning, birthday boy,” you murmured, and his almost violet eyes fluttered still half within the grasp of the sandman, and it didn’t help you looked as if you were the thing of dreams — your body clad only in his white button down, hair askew from your late night with him, and eyes filled with utter love and devotion, “finally waking up? Because I have a whole day planned for you,” 

His lips curl despite the sleep that weighed on his eyelids, a hum leaving his lips, as his fingers find you, even with his eyes closed — just as he always could, his fingers curling around your wrist, as he expertly tugged you and wrapped his arms around you. You were caged in around his limbs, pressed to his chest with barely any space to move, you’d be scared, if wasn’t exactly where you wanted to be. 

You sigh, burying your face in his chest, lips brushing the skin of his bare chest, “Sugu, come on, we can’t laze all day, I have a nice breakfast planned, and we’re having lunch with Satoru, Shoko, and Nanami later, and I have a million other nice things planned — none of which we can do if you don’t get out of bed,” 

“But you forgot something,” it’s his turn to sigh, as he shifts his face to rest against your neck, nose nearly tickling the skin there, as his lips press butterfly kisses, dotted like constellations along your neck and collarbone — as if he find the all the universe had to offer between the space of your neck and shoulder, “my favorite thing to do is right here,” 

You roll your eyes at the innuendo, a knowing smirk on his lips, one you didn’t need to see to know it was there — it was done against your neck after all, “If I recall, we did plenty of your favorite thing last night, and it’s the reason you’re probably so tired right now,” 

His fingers begin to toy with the buttons of his shirt that you’d stolen, “Well, they say you can never have too much of a good thing, after all,” 

“Oh, is that so?” and his lips find yours again to swallow your next retort, his lips gliding against yours and he can taste the coffee you had just had, the bitter taste mixed with your sweet tongue, that flicked not so sweetly against the seam of his lips. 

“You said I could have anything I want today,” he murmurs, beginning to undo the buttons one by one, as he revealed your body to his eyes — a twitch in his boxers as he realized you wore not a single thing underneath, “well right, all I want is you, for breakfast,” 

Your cheeks burn, thighs pressed together, his words sending a rush of heat down to your still aching cunt, “Sugu—” but his lips find yours again, his fingers busy with teasing your nipples — rolling both between his pointer finger and thumb, “fuck, baby—” 

“Gotta enjoy my meal baby,” his lips burn a trail of kisses down your body, his lips curling around your tit, his teeth grazing and teasing one and then the other, drawing a whimper from your lips, as he pulls his mouth away with a pop, “it’s the most important meal, and I have to start my birthday right, don’t I?” 

And his hands drag down your sides, large calloused fingers squeezing your hips, as he lifts your legs to hook around his shoulders, his dark gaze devouring the sight of your pretty cunt glistening with your slick, before his mouth and tongue would. 

His lips warm your outer lips, as his fingers tease your puffy little clit, pinching it, “Still swollen from last night,” his lips curl as you yelp in surprise, with a glare shot his way, that rolls into the back of your head as he buries his face in your sweet pussy. His nose grinds against your clit deliciously, as his tongue collects the pre already drenching you, humming at the taste — how was it that you were truly his favorite thing he tasted? You weren’t exactly sweet down there, but you were the only dessert he wanted (he’d leave the actual sugar to Satoru), “seems like you wanted this too by the way you’re leaking down here, my shirt and sheet is even wet,” he teases, making you cover your face in embarrassment, “don’t worry, sweetheart,” he smiles up at you with his slick covered lips and dripping chin, “I’ll clean you up.” 

“You don’t have to do this for me,” Suguru says, but you only shake your head, meeting his gaze in the mirror, with a roll of your eyes. 

“I want to do this for you,” as your fingers continue to comb his dark locks, finger twirling one strand between his fingers, “plus this is more for me than you, you never let me play with your hair at Jujutsu Tech,” you pouted, and he snorts. 

“First, you said ‘play,’ not do, and second, do you forget the first and only time I let you, Shoko, and Satoru do my hair?” and you stifle a laugh, badly disguised as a cough, as you lips part to answer, “don’t lie, I know you guys use it as your group chat photo,” 

“I only wanted to put clips and a scrunchie in your hair — dying your hair was all Satoru—” and his sharp look cuts you off, as you relent, before running your fingers through his hair, and easing another knot from his locks, “well isn’t this nice though?” and he nods, after your lips graze the edge of his hairline, “we’re almost done and you can tie your hair up after,” you hum. 

“Do you like my long hair?” and he meets your curious gaze in your reflection, “I mean, i decided to grow it out after we graduated, but I was wondering if you ever thought I should cut it,” 

You purse your lips, scrutinizing him in contemplation, “I love your hair either way, but you were always so meticulous about cutting it the same length, so why did you decide to grow it out?” His eyes fall to his lap, and he swallows, “you don’t have to—” you say softly, and his fingers find yours, squeezing. 

“I want to,” he echoes, as he bites his lip, “I heard when I was a kid that hair holds memories, and ever since Amanai and Haibara…I don’t want to ever forget them,” and he toys with a strand between his fingers, “And by keeping my hair longer, it feels like I can hold onto that, onto them,” he says softly, and you nod, “I know it’s not logical—”

“Not everything has to be logical, not everything has to have a reason,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck, “sometimes things can just be a thing you do — but either way, if you cut your hair or keep it long, I don’t think you’ll ever forget those two, and neither would they — ever,” and he turns to meet your lips in a slow kiss, your fingers ghosting his cheek, before you finally part, “come on, get dressed, we’re going to be late.” 

~~~~

“You told me he liked strawberry sponge and cream cake,” you punched Satoru in the shoulder, who takes it if only to appease you, with a pout, “you said that’s what he wanted this year, you blue eyed freak,” 

“It is! How was I supposed to know he’d lie to me?” 

“You know him for how many years and you can’t tell it was a lie?” 

“You’re his partner, you don’t know what cake he likes—” 

Suguru rubs his forehead, as you and Satoru continue to bicker, as he pulls a lighter out, and offers to light Shoko’s cigarette, as she leans on the windowsill of one of the open windows, “Those two never grow up do they?” and Suguru snorted, leaning against the wall next to her, facing the spectacle you and Satoru were making,  “why did you say strawberry cake?” 

“Because it’s both of their favorites,” his eyes slide to those two as Satoru used his infinity only to infuriate you, “I always had thought those two would have made a better match,” 

He feels Shoko’s eyes slide to him, “She loves you, not Satoru,” and his eyes find yours, just as they always did, and you smile the one smile he always hoped would be reserved for only him. 

“I know.” 

“Did we have to stay that long?” Suguru sighs, pulling off his jacket, “who slipped alcohol into Satoru’s plastic cup anyway?” and your pause gives it away, as he glances at you, pulling off your shoes, “sweetheart, you know he can’t handle his alcohol,” 

“Well someone should’ve handled their job right then,” and he laughs, as he walks over to wrap his arms around you, as you grumble, “you ask Mr. Six Eyes to do something — and he can’t even see through a lie, so are we really buying that he actually has them—” 

And his lips find yours again, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull you closer, “I believe you owe me a present still,” he kisses down your neck, and he feels you melt into his touch, your fingers splaying on his shoulders, “and I know exactly what I want,” 

“Well, I may have gotten you something a little different,” your lips curl. 

“A massage?” he raises an eyebrow, as you strip him down to his boxers on the bed, a few towels underneath him as you warmed the massage oil with your hands. He heard the squish and squelch of your fingers, and he felt his dick twitch, the noise sounding like something else. 

“You don’t relax enough, this way, I can help you relax a little,” you hum, as you stand beside him, “can I start?” and he bites his lip, but nods. 

“Go ahead, princess,” and you do — Suguru didn’t realize how many knots he had in his back, the muscles stiff and immovable at first, until you begin to work away at the bundles of stress he had accumulated. A moan slips from his lips as he feels the stress ebb away, a blush burning up his cheeks, “Sorry,” 

“No complaints here, baby,” you giggle. God, he was so fucking hot like this. His muscles were glistening with the oil, each muscle becoming more relaxed under your touch, the little grunts and groans that left his lips left another knot, but this one was in your cunt.

Suguru couldn’t help let these moans escape his lips, you were making him feel so good, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to move after this, his body far too limp. Or so he thought. Your hands were traveling lower and lower, until they brushed against the waistband of his boxers, and he shivers, “Sweetheart,” 

“What? You carry stress here too, and as your masseuse, I have to do a good job right?” you hum, “as long as my client permits me,” 

And he bites his lip, “I’ll permit anything from you, baby,” 

You don’t need any more words, as your fingers pull at the boxers, tugging the fabric down to reveal his ass, your fingers first ghosting over the flesh teasingly, before beginning to massage it. 

Fuck, now he was fully hard, his dick rubbing against the mattress — thank god you put down towels — as you worked out the knots in his gluteus muscle, but he didn’t know if you were helping him relax or not, because he never had felt more stiff. And it doesn’t escape your notice. 

You hum, “Maybe we need a different method,” your finger traces up and down your spine, “would my client mind turning over for me?” 

“Princess—” 

“Just one more thing to help you relax,” and he relents, turning over, to reveal the tent in his boxers, still drawn over his front, and your eyes fall to his cock, “and I see where all the stress has gone,” you tsk, as you climb onto the bed, straddling his waist, drawing a gasp from his lips, “poor baby,  all worked up still?” Your fingers traces his clothed head, a large wet patch that assuredly wasn’t massage oil, “I think I can relax you.” 

He’s biting his lip as he watches you tug down his boxers, fabric dragging against his erection as you do, slapping against his stomach, “Sweetheart—“ 

“Just let me do this for you, baby,” you murmur as you clean your hands with a rag and instead smear the beads of precum along his length, drawing a groan from his lips, “so sensitive for me, Sugu, been wanting me since morning haven’t you?” You hum, as you begin to work his cock with your hand, lips leaning down to press a kiss to his weeping tip, “it’s only fair if I get to taste you too — after all, I may have been your breakfast, but you’re my dessert,” 

And your lips wrap around his length, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, and tasting his salty precum. He groans, the noise burning a trail to your cunt, “s’good for me,” you murmured against him, as you took as much of him as you could, taking the rest in your hands.

His fingers weave into your hair, hips lightly bucking into your mouth, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, and you manage to suppress your gag reflex, “shit, sorry—“ but you cut off his apology by licking a thick stripe up one of his veins, before hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, “fuck, Princess, I’m close—I—“ and your fingers toy with his balls and your mouth redoubles his efforts, until he’s cumming down your throat with your name on his lips, his thick load painting your mouth and throat, as you swallow it eagerly. 

He flutter open, only to watch you pull your swollen lips from his length, strings of spit and cum still connecting you to his cock, before you wipe it away, “don’t worry baby,” you lean down to lick the beads of cum dripping from his tip, his hips jerking, “I’ll clean you up,” 

And after you get him all cleaned up, the two of you are in bed again, tucked up next to each other — Suguru was completely boneless, as you climb into bed beside him, “you okay baby?” 

He nods, smile on his lips, “More than okay after that,” he murmurs, lips finding yours, and then he pulls away with a pause, “but I didn’t get you off, baby,” and his forehead furrows as you chuckle. 

“Worry about that tomorrow, baby. I think you need some sleep now,” you crawl into his arms, your head pressed against his chest, you were so warm pressed against him, “got all I need right here,” you murmur, before you ask, “did you have a good birthday?” 

“I always do,” his fingers graze your cheek, as his eyes flutter shut, “always when I’m with you, Princess,” 

The first thing he feels, again, are soft fingers against his cheek, his eyes heavy with sleep, flutter open, as his brain catches with his body. 

“Master Geto? Master Geto?” His eyes finally flutter open to find Nanako and Mimiko at his bedside. 

He rubs at his eyes, as he stares at a ceiling for a moment, as he lets the haunting feel of your body slip from him — for a moment, he had let himself believe it was real — that you were with him, that he was still with you — all of you. 

“Happy Birthday, Master Geto,” they both intone together, and his gaze slides back to find the girls’ holding a birthday cake box. He blinks a moment, before he realizes. 

“Thank you both,” he sigh, sitting up, and even though he knows, he asks the question anyway, “it was left at the doorstep of the compound?” 

“Yes, the same one, the one that’s always left for you,” Mimiko answers as Nanako hands him the box, and he slips off the twine and opens the box to reveal a strawberry and cream sponge cake, “I didn’t know Master Geto even liked strawberry cake,” 

And he chuckles, as he stares at the cske, the residuals unbidden and clear as day who had left it — who had always left it, “I don’t but it was the favorite of two people very important to me before — you know I don’t care for sweets,” 

“I thought you didn’t care for sweets made by monkeys,” Nanako said, typing on her phone, before she snaps a picture or two of the cake, “why is this an exception?” 

“Because one of those special people baked it, and she’s a sorcerer,” and you always had — every year without fail. He didn’t even know how you had found him — he didn’t tend to stay in one place for too long, but you always did. 

As he lifts the cske out and hands it to the girls, “go slice it up and have a piece,” he smiles, “I’ll take care of the box,” and they nod, as Mimiko takes the cake while Nanako walks out staring at her phone still. 

It wasn’t the cake that he found special, but the card that was hidden at the bottom. It was nothing special — always a random card picked out with a birthday message printed on the outside — but no, what was special was the note you wrote. 

My favorite treat for my favorite birthday boy — I hope you have a good birthday — with your name signed below. 

His fingers twirled a strand of his hair, still far too long, as he traced your name with his finger. He hadn’t had a really good birthday — not without you. 

But, he opened the drawer of his bedside table, placing the card inside with the others, at least he could dream of one. 

✧ a/n: i've been hopping between my sukuna fic and prof geto 3, but i was bouncing back and forth between whether i wanted to write this or not, but i just had to for suguru - man has claimed a sweet spot. thank you to the anon who's idea i put on a spin on and @biancaness, who provided the massage idea :). this is also for @gaylatteart because their birthday is tomorrow, the day after suguru's. thank you bb for being so wonderful and congrats on doing the thing - i'm super proud of you!!

✧ taglist: @foxygemin1, @honeyangelsblog, @biancaness, @rwtard, @strangehuman101, @serendididy, @i-love-the8, @ririthedevil, @linastired, @bsaeshell, @jaceum, @going-to-californiaxx, @dontshuugo, @diogodxlot, @coffeebun17, @slikdolliy, @spider-fan72, @sophistication-as, @get0sfav, @klynne, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @heijihattorisgf, @teatreeoilll, @el172736738, @nem0philistx, @strawmariee, @mysuperrainbow

[munsonsmixtapes]

You Can Have Me

virgin!Eddie x fem!reader

summary: Eddie decides that he's finally ready for his first time

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v)

part one part two

Rain pattered against Eddie's trailer as the two of you were lying on his bed. He was on top of you, your lips connected in a very messy make out session. His lip swiped along your bottom lip and for once, he actually felt like he was ready to take it to the next level. He was ready to finally sleep with you, knowing that you were the only person who was capable of truly understanding him. Of making him feel the way he deserved for his first time.

He pulled away from you, his eyes glazed over, his hair an absolute mess from where your fingers had been holding onto it, running through it, pulling on it until moans fell from his mouth.

He gave you a look that you were somehow able to decipher, furrowing your eyebrows as if to ask him if he was sure. And even if he wasn't, you were more than happy to stop if he was uncomfortable. You knew how important it was to him and were determined to make it special for him.

"Eddie...are you sure?" You asked, sitting up and he followed, not straddling your waist. You hands then took his, pressing a kiss to each one. "I want you to be sure."

"I am," he nodded. "I'm ready."

He climbed off of you so you could grab a condom from your purse then tossed to the side of the bed before pulling him in for another kiss. You hands moved to the buttons of your cardigan and you slowly unbuttoned them as Eddie removed his shirt.

Your shirt fell onto the bed behind you and Eddie pulled you closer, his hands moved to your back, his fingers undoing your bra as his tongue swirled around yours. It fell between your bodies and you tossed it aside before helping him lie on his back.

Together, you unbuttoned his jeans before he removed them completely so now he was only in his underwear and now you could see his rock hard cock tenting in it. He slowly pushed them down his waist and you could stop staring at his now free cock.

You let your eyes rake over his body, feeling honored that you were the only one that he wanted to see him naked. You never thought you would have been his first, but now it just made sense to you, not that you were expecting it. You were his best friend, the one person who knew him in ways that no one else did.

You rolled the condom onto him before lining yourself up with him before you settled yourself onto his cock. He let out a noise as soon as he was inside you and you couldn't help but think that he was the hottest sound he had ever made. It was hot and breathy and almost sounded like a moan.

Your hands rested on his shoulders as you leaned down, looking him directly in his brown eyes. The were still glazed over, his pupils blown wide as a smile curled up at the corners of his mouth.

"Let me know if I do something you don't like or even if you're not having a good time. This is all about you tonight, okay?"

"Okay," he nodded and his hands moved to your waist as you began to ride him, taking it as slow as you good, wanting him to get comfortable with it before you picked up your pace.

His eyes shut tight as he let out a loud moan, his fingers, curling into your hips. You watched him come undone underneath you, already taking a mental picture of what he looked like, his hair splayed out on the pillow underneath his head, his very pink cheeks, his eyes shut tight, and his mouth wide open as he let out moan after moan.

He was already close, but he didn't want that to be the end of it. He wanted to keep going as long as you would've had him, wanting to go for as many rounds as possible, going into the late night and early morning.

You had barely even done anything and it was already everything he had dreamed of, doing it with someone he cared about who seemed to actually want him in the way he wanted them. It was all perfect and he only had you to thank for it.

You leaned down, pressing your lips to his kiss bitten ones, slowly moving down so that they were right by his ear.

"Look at you, taking me so well. You're doing great."

"Really?" He asked, bucking his hips towards yours and you pulled back to smile at him before moving back to his ear.

"Really," you replied, bringing his earlobe between your teeth and giving it a soft bite before diffusing it with a suck.

He let out another moan and continued to buck his hips against yours, wanting to make you feel as good as you were making him feel. And that was when he had a feeling that he only really got when he was alone. He knew that his orgasm was building and decided that he didn't care how loud he was as he let out a scream, his back arching as he did so.

His hips bucked one more time as everything was getting to him. He was getting tired and the two of you had barely even done anything. He felt dizzy, but that didn't mean he wanted to stop. He wanted to keep going until you weren't able to walk.

"Getting tired, hm?" You asked as you slowed your pace even more.

"No," he slurred. "Not at all."

"I think you're getting tired. How about this? How about we take a nap then we can pick up where he left off? If you want, you can be on top next time."

"Deal," he replied and you climbed off of him before disposing of the condom.

You then helped him get under the covers before getting in beside him, pulling him to your chest then pecking his lips. You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair, knowing that it was the best way to help him fall alseep while you laid there, hoping that he enjoyed his first time just as much as you did.

[littlelamy]

three’s a charm; rafe x reader x jj

a/n: i was inspird by @rafeyscurtainbangs post! so please enjoy🤭

warnings: suggestive

the fire crackles behind you, but it’s nothing compared to the heat between you, jj, and rafe. they’re both sitting way too close—close enough that you can feel jj’s knee pressing into yours on one side, while rafe’s hand rests dangerously on your lower back, fingers grazing the bare skin beneath your shirt.

you hadn’t expected this. maybe you’d picked up on the tension between them before, the way they always seemed to push each other’s buttons when it came to you, but tonight it feels different—heavier. and now, you’re caught in the middle of something that neither of them seems willing to back down from.

jj’s the first to make a move, his eyes locking on yours with that mischievous glint you’ve seen a thousand times before. only this time, it’s different. "you ever wonder what it’d be like, huh?" he asks, voice low as his hand slides up your thigh. "being stuck between the two of us?"

you swallow, your breath catching as you feel jj’s grip tighten slightly, his thumb brushing the inside of your leg in a way that has you holding back a gasp. you glance at rafe, but his face is unreadable, eyes dark as he watches jj’s hand on you, his own fingers tracing soft circles on your back.

rafe doesn’t respond, not at first. instead, he leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "i don’t think she’s ready for that, jj."

his breath is hot against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. your heart is pounding in your chest, the tension crackling in the air around you. before you can say anything, jj’s fingers tilt your chin up, his blue eyes staring down at you with a smirk playing on his lips.

"oh, i think she can handle it," jj murmurs, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel his breath. "but maybe you’re the one who can’t handle it, rafe."

rafe scoffs, his hand sliding up your back and resting on your shoulder, pulling you just a little closer to him. "keep dreaming, maybank," rafe mutters, but there’s a dangerous edge to his voice. it’s like a challenge, one that jj is more than willing to accept.

before you can react, jj’s lips crash against yours, catching you off guard. his kiss is rough, demanding, like he’s been holding back for too long. his hand grips your thigh, holding you in place as he kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that leaves you breathless.

you don’t even have a moment to recover before rafe’s fingers slip under your chin, gently pulling you away from jj’s kiss. his touch is softer, more controlled, but his eyes burn with something darker as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a way that makes your heart race.

"not so fast," rafe whispers, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before his mouth captures yours in a kiss that’s just as intense, just as overwhelming. rafe’s kiss is rougher this time, like he’s trying to prove something, and you’re caught in the middle of it, your senses overwhelmed by the push and pull between them.

jj isn’t done, though. his lips are back on your neck, trailing soft, teasing kisses along your skin that send a jolt of electricity through you. you gasp, your head tilting back as jj’s mouth continues to explore, his hand sliding higher up your thigh, dangerously close to the edge of your shorts.

you feel rafe’s hand tighten on your waist as jj’s lips brush over the sensitive spot just below your ear. "you like this, don’t you?" jj murmurs against your skin, his breath warm as his tongue flicks over your pulse point. "being the center of attention. being ours."

it’s not a question. it’s a statement. and the truth is, you do. you’ve never felt like this before, caught between the two of them, both of their hands on you, both of their mouths claiming you in their own way. it’s intoxicating, overwhelming, and you don’t want it to stop.

rafe pulls back slightly, his lips ghosting over your jawline as his eyes lock on jj. "think she’s ready for both of us?" rafe asks, his voice low, dangerous.

jj grins, his teeth grazing the skin of your neck. "guess we’re about to find out," he mutters, his hand slipping under your shirt, fingers brushing the bare skin of your stomach. his touch is light, teasing, making you squirm between them.

rafe chuckles, a dark, rumbling sound that sends another thrill through you. "better hold on tight, baby," he whispers, his hand sliding lower, gripping your waist as he pulls you closer to him. "you’re in for a ride."

and then, almost in sync, both of them lean in. jj’s lips meet yours again, softer this time, teasing, while rafe’s mouth trails down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as his teeth graze your collarbone. you’re caught between them, their bodies pressing against yours, their hands exploring, their kisses leaving you breathless and dizzy.

you don’t know where jj ends and rafe begins anymore. it’s all heat, all need, and you’re the center of it, the object of their desire. their hands slide over your skin, their lips moving against yours, and you can’t help but get lost in the sensation, in the way they both seem to want you, need you.

jj pulls away first, just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours as his thumb brushes over your cheek. "still think you can handle this?" he asks, his voice rough, breathless.

you don’t have a chance to respond before rafe’s lips are back on yours, his kiss more demanding this time, his hand slipping lower, pulling you against him. "you’re not going anywhere," rafe whispers against your lips, his fingers digging into your skin. "you’re ours."

taglist (comment below if you want to be added): @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻

Promises, Promises.

warnings - smut. cursing.

I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"

Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?

"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."

The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.

"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"

He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."

"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.

"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."

"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."

You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.

"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."

"I'm... what?"

"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."

You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.

"Is that so?"

"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."

He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.

"He's wrong."

"Is that so?"

You roll your eyes.

"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."

"And why not?"

"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."

Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.

"He's your age."

"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."

He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.

"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"

Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.

"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."

"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."

"Me too."

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.

He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.

Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.

You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.

"Strip."

You blink at him, processing.

"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."

You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.

Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.

"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"

"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."

You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.

"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."

"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."

He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"

You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"

The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.

"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."

His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.

"House first."

"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.

"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."

He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.

You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.

You'll deal with the repercussions later.

[peachesofteal]

The Crypt anthology

“You dropped this.”

You whirl on a dime, legs twisting together and rolling you off balance at the last second, the stranger’s hand shooting out to try to steady you before you catch yourself. “Alright little love?” Powder blue eyes hold you tight, some sort of virose thrall bearing down into your temples, rooting around in the matter between your ears.

“I’m fine.” You manage, but the words lack conviction. Long fingers dig in the soft spirals of your brain, looking for something, picking and pulling.

“Lookin’ a bit peckish there, sure you’re alright?” All you can manage is a nod, one foot sliding behind the other, placing you firmly out of reach.

“I’m fine.” The two words are all you can manage, still trying to escape the trance, the dark tug behind your ribs. Long silence plays out, and with a closer look, you register him fully. Tall. Broad. Shoulders wide enough to close in around you, green jacket faded into sun parched moss. It wouldn’t button around his chest, the waffle henley beneath doing you no favors by the way it tapers to his belt, a strong jaw cloaked by a swath of beard and moustache.

Older than you, stronger than you, an astral man amidst a city of depravity.

Step closer.

A storm cracks outside, thunder rattling the windows, your vision tunneling inside the market, people doing their shopping ebbing around you, a rock in water, stalls and their goods fading into the distance.

The only thing you can see is this stranger and his bright blue eyes. “Thanks,” you croak, knuckles tense on the strap of your bag, net of spilled oranges now safely tucked inside the canvas. When did that happen? Your smile is forced, seasick though the ground is solid beneath you, and when the eye contact breaks to flicker over your shoulder, you jolt back to your sense, and turn away.

The blue eyes stay with you all the way home, into your flat, through the night. You think about them as you cook yourself dinner, as you pour yourself a too generous glass of wine. You feel them as you curl up on the couch, malignant presence lingering just outside your window.

It’s only once you undress and slip under your blankets that you finally feel a semblance of peace, as if the gaze has moved on, the undying focus abated in a sliver of moonlight.

Your dreams are filled with blood.

An oil slick across an ocean, too vast to know where it ends and begins, you fight to keep your head above water, legs kicking frivolously in the dark, terror tight around your throat, horror lurking on the outside of your mind. Thalassophobia renders you almost useless, the panic just enough to keep the drowning at bay.

Can you die in a dream?

A hand appears from nowhere, and you cling to it, wailing and gasping until you’re pulled ashore, laid flat on your back against black stone sand.

“Alright little love?” Him. The same eyes peer down, shining like the sun, chasing away the darkness settled in around you. He stuns you.

“Y-yeah.” He’s close enough cigar smoke permeates your air, your fingers gripping the front of his shirt like a lifejacket. It takes a moment, a second of realization-

You’re covered in blood. Hands, feet, forearms, face. It coats your lips, iron and earth in your nose, soaked all the way to your lungs. Heavier than tar, slicked to your windpipe, drowning your beating heart in ichor.

“Oh god, oh my god, what- what is this, what is this-“ You’ve never heard your own voice at this pitch, shrill, piercing, the sound of someone crying, the sound of someone freefalling.

That can’t be you, can it?

“Easy now.” He holds you by the shoulders. The sun and moon cycle overhead, light and darkness rotating, disorienting you further, a whimper crawling from your throat. “Shhh, I know, I know,” he rubs your temple, thumb stained ruby red, and then lifts it to his mouth, lips curled into a devilish smile, “knew you’d be perfect f’me.” The ground begins to shake, the sky splitting apart, white tendrils snaking across the sea to your ankles, and he frown, disappointment lingering in the lines of his face. The rough scrape of his beard presses to your cheek with a kiss, and he nestles a coin into the palm of your hand, the dream turning opaque before disappearing completely, your eyes opening to ceiling of your bedroom.

Just a dream, you remind yourself throughout the day. Just a dream, though it’s nearly impossible to keep your mind from wandering, remembering, tasting the salt of the ichor like it’s still fresh on your tongue.

“Hey!” Your coworker snaps her fingers, alarm flashing across her face. “Are you okay? You look… sick.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Maybe you should call it a day. Seriously, you look like death.” Your agreement is weak as she practically shoves you out the door. “Go home and take a nap or something.”

“Hello again.” Your heart jolts, battering against your bones in a frantic beat. “No need to be scared.” You blink. “I’m John… from the market yesterday? You dropped your oranges?”

“John.” Your tongue ties around his name, and though its polite to give yours, you can’t force it out. His brow furrows.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Good sense and manners appear, spurred on by years of chastising by your mother, and you grimace.

“Oh. Sorry. I’m a bit under the weather.” He looms ahead of you, blocking a portion of the sidewalk.

“Headed home then?” You nod. “I’ll walk you.”

“Oh, no. That’s not necessary.” He gives you a sharp look, the dispel to an argument, razored, jagged teeth closing in around your attempt at a refusal, and pulls at your wrist, thumb holding steady over your pulse point, heart rate slowing from a panic to a lull.

Your head hangs, and you slump, exhaustion tugging your limbs down towards the ground. The path doesn’t split before you, no way to choose one way or another, hedgerows too tall to peer over, lost and unable to discern the way. Your hands find your pockets, and brush across something unfamiliar and cool.

A coin.

Darkness closes in around you-

And the word goes black.

You wake in a bed.

Not your bed.

It’s big, wide enough your legs and arms spread out with touching the edge of the mattress. The sheets are fine, cotton you could never afford, threads delicate, spun silk. Luxury. A far cry from your one-bedroom flat.

“There you are.” Time jolts, bringing you into the present with startling speed, a hand clasping over your mouth before you can release a scream. “No need for that.”

“John?” You mumble into his palm. Your head is natant, woozy with the rocking, feet scrambling on a ship far away, desperate to hold tight to a rail, a lifeline, a moment of balance in a violent storm. “I’m gonna be sick.”

There’s a haunting, familiar taste on your lips and you lick them over and over, the tip of an iceberg, a memory just barely visible above placid water. You grasp at it, tug yourself closer, swallow the nostalgia until it rears its head-

Blood.

Horror wraps an unforgiving fist around your throat.

“What-“

“Welcome home.” What? Your feet tangle in the sheets, a net around your ankles. His big, warm hand flattens over your chest, blue gaze honing in, the predator ready to devour his prey. “Can hear your heart, little love.”

“This isn’t my h-home.”

“It is now.” He’s casual, leaning by your hip, now stroking deft fingers over your ribs. “This is my home, and now it’s yours too. You don’t need to worry, you’ll be well cared for.” The cold green sick feeling surges, and you roll over to the side of the mattress, spewing the contents of your stomach onto polished hardwood floors.

It’s not bile, or water, or even food.

It’s red. Dark red, dripping off your lips like rain, flooding the grooves beneath you. He rubs your back like you’re a child who needs soothing, grip tight on your arm when you try to rip away.

“It won’t always be like this,” he coos, clucking his tongue in sympathy, “the taste is difficult to get used to.”

“The taste of what?”

“Blood.”

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 9 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley never felt like this before in his life. As soon as he spent a few minutes in your presence, he needed to keep coming back for more. Your touch and your voice were already making this homecoming something he was hoping to repeat, and he decided to keep pressing his luck.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley getting handsy

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley promised he would pick you up in an hour. That gave you essentially no time to get yourself ready to go out. At least you didn't have those typical first date jitters, because you and he had already taken the time to slowly get to know each other over the past few months. All of the emails from him that you'd archived into their own folder in your inbox felt precious now that he was home. Now that he surprised you at work. Knowing what he felt like and seeing the way he moved in person seemed to be the only missing pieces, and now everything fit perfectly in your mind when it came to Bradley Bradshaw. 

While you weren't nervous about getting to know someone new, you were a little antsy about trying to make yourself look as nice as you could in an hour. After you'd worked all day. For your first date with a man you already couldn't get enough of. He reminded you that he wanted to take you to the beach, as if you could forget the splendid details he'd divulged over the phone a month ago.

He told you he was going to wear jeans, nothing fancy, but when you looked in your closet, everything seemed tragically terrible. You could practically feel time ticking away as you yanked a simple sundress from its hanger and pulled it on over your cute underwear set. Not that he was going to see that tonight, but it made you feel good regardless. It also made your skin feel flushed as you thought about the photo you'd sent him where you'd gone topless under your bedding, and you squeaked when you heard knocking on your door. 

When you pulled it open, he was there, like a dream. Earlier in your classroom, when he interacted with your students, it felt like you had imagined the whole thing. But nothing felt as real as the warmth in his voice when he softly said, "Hey, Gorgeous," as he filled your doorway with his broad shoulders.

"Hi, Handsome," you replied, even as he leaned in closer until your lips were met with a kiss as sweet as the ones he treated you to earlier. He seemed to be taking your desire to be kissed as soon as he saw you to heart. Either that or he just couldn't help himself, and you were more than okay with either scenario. 

Your fingers ghosted along the buttons of the loud tropical print shirt he was wearing. The fabric was soft as he deepened the kiss enough to let you feel his rough mustache against your skin before pulling away. All of the teasing kisses from a few hours ago made you want to pull him inside toward your couch, but he was already reaching for your hand.

He looked a little tired, and once again you got butterflies knowing he wanted to spend his first evening home from a very long deployment with you. As he smiled and wrapped his big hand around yours, he asked, "You ready for me to show you why deleting that dating app was the best decision you'll make all year?"

Your lips parted in soft surprise at his confidence and his little smirk. Granted, so far, he had no reason to behave otherwise. You let him guide you outside, and you locked your door as you said, "I thought getting my students to send mail to a deployed Naval aviator was my best decision?"

He hummed softly. "Seems as though you can do no wrong."

It was like floating on a cloud, having his attention and gaze fixed on you. How in the world this man wasn't already locked down was mystifying. As his rough thumb trailed back and forth across your knuckles, the butterflies started up again in a big way. It was actually happening. The first date that you'd been daydreaming about on repeat was here. He was following through with it, and now you were expected to act normal.

When he unlocked the door and helped you climb up into his insanely cool truck, he said, "It looks like you can't stop smiling, which is great, because it's a beautiful smile."

You laughed softly and covered your eyes before groaning softly. "I'm just still kind of in shock." You peeked at him from between your fingers. "When I woke up this morning, I was convinced something terrible had happened to you... or that you ghosted me."

Bradley looked truly concerned as he coaxed your hands away from your face and said, "Baby, you thought I ghosted you?"

You gave him a little shrug and said, "The thought crossed my mind. I know you said sometimes they shut off communication from the aircraft carrier when-"

He silenced you with his lips on yours, cupping your cheek with his big hand before breaking away to say, "I've been thinking about you since I unfolded the first letter you sent. And I've been thinking about today since you gave me your personal email address. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm definitely not going to ghost you, Gorgeous." Just as you felt embarrassed for having admitted that much to him, he kissed you again and said, "I want to get you Thai food and take you to the beach. It only took me thirty-seven minutes to get here in traffic, and it should be even shorter now. Since we're going to be doing this drive with frequency, I want to learn the best times for it."

You made a soft sound as his thumb continued to stroke your cheek, and you nodded as you said, "Let's do it."

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

Bradley laced his fingers with yours as he drove down along the coast back to Coronado. The time it took to get to your place was really no big deal to him, but he didn't want it to seem insurmountable to you. Traffic in San Diego could be a nightmare at times, especially in the evening, and he didn't want you to think he wasn't more than willing to do this. Especially after you thought he may have ghosted you. And especially since he was planning on asking you to be his girlfriend. 

You and your students got him through his deployment in a way nothing else ever quite had before. Your letters and emails were informative, funny and thoughtful, and you had this addictively subtle way of always letting him know he was on your mind. After months with Vanessa, all he got was a bad attitude, a partner who clearly wasn't invested, and an email about a water bottle. 

You were singing along to a song he happened to love when he chuckled to himself as he changed lanes. "What's so funny?" you asked, giving his hand a little squeeze. "My singing voice isn't that bad."

"Your singing voice isn't even slightly bad," he replied easily, glancing at your face in profile as you smiled. "I was just thinking about my ex-girlfriend."

"Oh," you said as your smile vanished, and your hold on his hand loosened. 

"Shit," he grunted. "Not like that," he promised, tugging on you gently while trying to focus on the road. "You and I had exchanged more emails halfway through my deployment than Vanessa and I did in seven months. And I'm hoping you'll keep emailing with me on occasion, even though we can text and talk on the phone right now, too. I associate my inbox with you now."

"Vanessa?" you asked, avoiding the rest of his statement. "Isn't that the name of Jayden's dog?"

Bradley nodded. "It sure is," he replied with a laugh. "One of the reasons I always liked his notes the best."

You were looking out your window now as the pretty coastline started to give way to a view of North Island across the bay. "I'll keep emailing you. How could I not? Texts and phone calls would be a bonus."

"I told you, you're going to get sick of me soon, Gorgeous. That's how many of my texts and phone calls you're about to be on the receiving end of." Bradley kissed your fingers as he turned to cross the bridge that led to Coronado, and he murmured, "Start thinking about what you want to eat for dinner. We're almost there."

He would erase all doubts about him from your mind. Your hand already felt like it belonged in his as you and he walked into the takeout restaurant while you listed off some of your Thai favorites. The two of you seemed to translate well from interacting through screens to physically being together, and the fact that he already wanted to put a label on this was a bit surprising to him. But there was still a lot he wanted to ask you about and tell you first, which was proving difficult when you looked up at him with bright eyes as a beautiful smile. He practically blurted out the world girlfriend as you told him you couldn't decide what you wanted to eat.

"What are you getting?" you asked. "I'm torn between Pad Thai, Yellow Curry and Tom Yum Goong."

"Let's get all three," he replied before kissing you. 

When he pulled away, your eyes were still closed as you asked, "All three? I can only finish one."

"Yeah, we can share them," he whispered, kissing you softly again. "My appetite is huge." When the person who was working at the counter had to clear their throat to keep Bradley from pulling you closer to his body like he had earlier in your classroom, he begrudgingly ordered not three, but four entrees while you laughed. 

"You weren't kidding," you mused as he paid for dinner.

"Listen," he told you as he put his credit card away. "There are three things I'm never going to joke about. Food is the first one. My mom always made me clean my plate, and I never outgrew that. If I'm willing to eat two servings of dinner from an aircraft carrier mess hall, then I'm probably going to eat at least that much if it's food that actually tastes good. And second, if I say there's a spider and that I need you to come quick, there is absolutely a spider that I need you to take care of for me." You laughed and bit your lip as he said, "And third, I'm never going to joke about how attracted I am to everything about you."

Bradley tried his best not to cause a scene in the small restaurant, but when you ran your fingers along the scars on his face and up into his hair, his hands found their way to your hips, and your body was snug against his. He didn't say another word, and you didn't either. Neither of you moved any closer for a kiss. You just brushed your fingers gently through his hair, occasionally tugging a little bit, and he thought he could lose his mind this way. With you smiling softly at him, silently and unknowingly showing him that your touch was uniquely something he'd been craving for so long.

"I'll take care of the spiders for you. Don't worry," you told him as you grinned.

"Baby, that's like dirty talk," he replied, his words making him think of that one photo you sent to him of you in bed. You dipped your head, trying to hide from him as you laughed, and he leaned in to kiss your jaw just as his name was called. "You ready for dinner?" he mumbled, knowing he was about five minutes away from his stomach growling loudly even though standing here with you was one of the nicest feelings in his recent memory.

"Let's get you fed," you told him, patting his firm stomach and accidentally snagging one of his belt loops with your finger. He had to bite the inside of his cheek against the growing need he felt for you as you reached out to grab the bag of food, and he followed you back out to his Bronco like a lost puppy.

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

After some debate about where you wanted to sit since the wind was starting to pick up, you chose a blanket on the sand over the back of his Bronco. You honestly weren't sure Bradley could even fit back there comfortably with you. He was so tall and broad, and his legs were so long, you'd practically have to be on top of him so he'd have room. Your mind wandered to the idea of him spilling off of his couch while you snuggled with him, and you could feel the warmth rising in your face as he helped you down onto the sandy asphalt of the parking lot.

With your hand in his, Bradley led you around to the back door where he pulled out a picnic blanket and a cooler. The wind picked up and you shivered a bit, wondering if he would let you curl up against his warm chest and his tropical shirt. 

"I brought this just in case," he told you, turning to reach back inside and grab a well worn, gray sweatshirt that said TOP GUN across the front. He held it up, and you nodded, and then Bradley pulled it over your head for you, his fingers skimming down your sides as you pushed your arms through the sleeves.

"Thanks," you murmured as the oversized garment kind of swallowed you up. It was so soft over your sundress, you couldn't imagine ever wanting to take it off. And the look Bradley was giving you as you stood before him in it warmed you up as much as the shirt itself.

"I like the way that looks," he said, voice a little raspy as the wind pushed at his wavy hair.

"Bradley."

He shook his head, brown eyes fixed on you. "And I like the way that sounds."

You didn't need to eat anything. You could be sustained on making out in the backseat. You thought about telling him as much when he groaned softly, handed you the beach blanket and picked up everything else. "If we don't get settled, we'll miss the sunset, and the food will be cold."

He pressed one hot and heavy kiss to your lips before nudging the door shut with his hip, and you scampered after his long-legged gait to catch up with him. When he asked you to pick a spot for the blanket, you spread it out near some tall dune grass, away from some of the other couples who seemed to have been lured out by the promise of a pretty sunset. And just as you predicted, Bradley sprawled himself out and took up most of the space, leaving you sitting right at his side.

You helped him open up the containers of food and the disposable utensils, and then you watched him reach into the cooler and hold up a bottle of Prosecco and a bottle of a local craft beer. You pointed to the Prosecco, and he opened it for you as you said, "I know you told me you don't have much family, but you mentioned your mom? And how she always made you clean your plate?" You couldn't help but be curious, especially since you'd already told him a bit about your own family through email.

"Yeah," he replied evenly as you took a sip of Prosecco right from the bottle when he didn't hand you a cup. It was sweet and cold, but you almost choked on it when he said, "She died years ago. So did my old man. He was in the Navy, too."

"Bradley," you gasped, sloshing some of the wine onto your fingers as you tried not to drop the bottle. "I'm so sorry." He just shrugged and waved you off, but you ended up with your arms around his neck and the cold bottle pressed to his back as you whispered, "Is that why you didn't really have anyone writing to you other than me and my class?"

His big hand found your lower back through the sweatshirt. "Baby, the only other person who ever writes to me is my best friend, and even that is pretty sporadic."

You pulled away a little bit to meet his eyes as you asked, "What about Vanessa? The human, not the dog."

Bradley laughed and said, "The dog would make a better pen pal than the human. Probably be nicer to me, too."

You were completely taken aback. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He kissed your cheek before getting you settled at his side again, and you watched him scoop some noodles onto his fork. "Means she's not like you. And I'm going to try my best to prove that I'm not like your ex boyfriend who didn't like it when you talked about your job. Shouldn't be hard since I already think your kids are so cool, and I probably read at about a fourth grade level."

"Bradley," you balked as you laughed that he remembered what you told him about your ex, but he was already holding the food out to you.

"Try this and tell me what you think." You took the fork from his hand, tasted the dinner and moaned in appreciation. "It's pretty great, right?"

"Oh my goodness," you told him, digging the fork into the container for more. "It's even better than the place by my school."

You tried the curry next as the sun just about hit the horizon, and Bradley casually said, "We can do this all the time. Or I can surprise you with dinner after work."

"It's not a surprise if you tell me that," you told him before taking another sip of the wine.

"You don't like surprises," he said with a smile, and you realized for the second time tonight that he probably remembered everything you ever told him. The butterflies were back in full force as you and he chatted while you shared the meal. It wasn't like a first date at all. It was like some highly romantic reunion where he kissed you with a bit more frequency as the food containers ended up empty and the sky turned purple.

He was so warm as you snuggled up against his chest with your head on his shoulder. As the first few stars appeared in the clear sky, his big hand came to rest on your thigh, his fingers dipping inside the hem of your dress as the breeze made you cuddle even closer to him. "Was your last mission dangerous?" you asked, remembering how apprehensive he looked and sounded over the FaceTime call.

When he didn't respond right away, you thought perhaps he didn't hear you, but he squeezed your thigh and cleared his throat. "All of them are, Gorgeous."

Your heart clenched. You had him here with you after months of wishing and dreaming. You didn't want to seem pushy by asking, but you couldn't help yourself. "I never thought about what it would be like to... be with someone who deploys for work. Not until we started talking. But now I think about it a lot." His soft grunt next to your ear had you quickly asking, "Is that what it would be like? Always worrying if you're okay? Always wondering if you miss me as much as I miss you?"

He took your breath away as he kissed you, parting your lips with his and tasting your tongue. His lips were sweet from the wine, and his nose bumped yours as his big hand slid around to the back of your thigh. All you could do was hold onto him as he treated you to kiss after toe-curling kiss. You shamelessly moaned his name when he finally let you take a breath, but then he was right back on you. Your fingernails scraped softly along his faded scars before digging into his hair, and he broke the kiss and held you to him.

"You would never have to worry about the last bit. I would make sure of that. But yeah, Baby, the rest of it would kind of suck."

The only thing you could say was, "Bradley," as his eyes searched your face in the darkening evening light.

"I would have been miserable," he whispered. "If you never sent that first package, I would have had nothing to look forward to each day and nothing I was excited to come back to San Diego for." His voice was impossibly deep and alluring as he said, "I thought about that a lot. What if you never sent it? Or what if someone else got it instead of me? What if I didn't somehow manage to earn your attention? I don't like thinking about that. And I don't like the idea of you worrying about me even though, at the same time, it feels really fucking good knowing that you would."

You were melting. You were going to turn into a puddle for this man. This lonely man who had an ex who hadn't been nice to him and never emailed him enough. This man who cleared his calendar today to bring you flowers and visit your kids as soon as he got off of the aircraft carrier. You wanted to say so much as you pushed gently on his shoulders, and Bradley slowly leaned back until he was laying flat with you on top of him.

"Gorgeous," he crooned in the moonlight with the sound of the ocean behind you and his big hands on your thighs. 

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and whispered, "You just got back today, and you gave all of your time to me."

His cheek was warm and rough with some stubble as your lips found his scars. You kissed them just like you told him you wanted to as he said, "It was just me being selfish. I wanted to be around you so badly. I'm already dying for more. Please go out with me again tomorrow?"

It took you all of a split second to agree. And maybe you were being selfish too, but you weren't prepared for the way your heart was racing in time with the butterflies. And how warm his big hands were as they inched up your legs while you tasted his tongue. And how much you knew you were going to want him to stay when it was time to say goodnight.

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

Your hands were all over his face and shoulders and in his hair, and Bradley was nothing short of delighted by this. Your lips drifted from his mouth down to his chin, and he had to try very hard to focus as they grazed his Adam's apple. He had your apartment keys in his hand, with which he was also squeezing your hip though his sweatshirt. It felt serendipitous that he was the one who got your letters, especially since he went from halfway in love with you to most of the way there after one day in your presence.

"Baby, you need to go inside," he warned, but something in his tone of voice just had you clinging tighter to him. "I need you to go inside."

You broke free from where your lips ended up on the side of his neck, and you whined. "I know, Bradley."

"God," he rasped, releasing you completely and taking a step back. "Say it one more time."

You unlocked your door, turned to look at him over your shoulder, and your kiss-swollen lips curled into one of those simply gorgeous smiles that earned you your nickname. "Bradley."

It sounded so fucking good. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered. "Lock the door behind you."

You did as you were told with one more little smile just for him, and then he was left standing there alone, trying to catch his breath while he got his phone out and worked on taking date number two from daydream to reality.

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

Why is he like this? They are going to get even more handsy on their second date, and I can't handle it. And he can't even go more than a day without seeing her? He needs to be locked away. Thanks for reading! And thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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[museanddream]

One Night - part 2 || Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x Reader

Summary: When you complete a dream transfer to Barcelona, there’s only one problem - you have to learn to coexist with your ex-hookup and her new girlfriend.

Warnings: 🔞 | fingering, oral sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degrading language

Word count: 3.8k

Part 2 / ?

part 1 here

Instead of going straight in for the kiss when Ona asks you for it, you continue to take your time, savouring the moment. One of your hands, previously running up and down Ona’s thighs, rises to her head, tracing the back of your fingers against her cheek before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and cupping her jaw.

Ona’s eyelids are heavy with want now, her lips slightly parted in anticipation of a kiss, while you think you can feel the way she’s putting all her effort into not rutting her hips against your lap.

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper into the space between your lips. “I’ve thought about this a lot too. Ever since I joined the team, every time you smiled at me, every time you helped me, there’s been a part of me that wondered what it’d be like to have you.”

You’re acutely aware of Lucy’s presence on the other side of the room, but you’re not fazed by making the admission in front of her.

“In fact, if I knew you wanted this too, I would’ve made sure it happened a lot sooner.”

Ona’s eyelashes flutter and you can hear the shaky breath she lets out, before uttering again, “Please.”

You’ve never heard Ona sound like that, a slight whimper in her voice. You want to hear it over and over again.

As your lips meet Ona’s for the first time, there’s a brief moment of panic when you realise that you’re kissing someone in front of their girlfriend, then all that washes away as you realise that you’re kissing Ona.

Her lips are impossibly soft. Softer than they have any right to be. You almost lose yourself right there, if not for the tiny voice in the back of your mind telling you to enjoy this and do it right.

There’ll be time to lose control later.

As it is, your hand tightens slightly against Ona’s jaw, fingers toying with the soft baby hairs at the nape of her neck while your lips coax Ona’s mouth open. She’s pliant against you and when you swipe your tongue into her mouth a second later, you swallow the soft moan that escapes her throat.

Your other hand, resting fairly innocently on Ona’s upper thigh, slides back to cup her ass. Her hands, draped over your shoulders, respond by cupping your face and deepening the kiss, the wet slide of her tongue against yours eliciting a gasp from you.

You squeeze her ass through her shorts in an attempt to get her closer and the result is that she grinds down into your lap. But the problem isn’t that Ona isn’t close enough, it’s the layers of clothing in your way.

Breaking the kiss, you move both hands to Ona’s waist and start to lift the hem of her shirt. Ona is only too happy to help, tugging her t-shirt over her head in record time and flinging it behind her with very little care for where it actually ends up.

Chuckling at her eagerness, though pleased with the ego boost it gives you, you stroke a hand down her cheek and say, “You’re desperate for this, aren’t you? Does Lucy not give you enough attention?” You pause, wondering how hard you can push this, then decide to go for it anyway. “Does she not fuck you well enough?”

“Watch it,” Lucy warns you from the other side of the room.

You drag your gaze across to Lucy for the first time since Ona sat in your lap and challenge her with your eyes.

“Or what?”

You know from personal experience just how much fun it can be to wind Lucy up, what kind of dominant mood she gets in when her buttons are pushed in the bedroom. It’s the competitiveness in her, she likes to win everything and doesn’t like it when she’s not in control.

So you know exactly what you’re doing by questioning her sexual prowess, the kind of reaction you’re hoping it’ll provoke from her later. You’re just banking on the fact that she loves her girlfriend enough to wait until after Ona has gotten at least a little bit of what she wants from you before Lucy decides she has a point to prove.

“You’re talking a lot for somebody who’s barely even touched Ona yet,” Lucy challenges you right back.

And if Lucy wants to play it like that, then so be it.

“I am touching her, though,” you point out, as your fingers drop to the button on the front of Ona’s shorts to deftly pop it open.

You scratch your nails lightly against Ona’s abs and she twitches away from the touch when you pass over a ticklish spot. When your hand reaches the waistband of her underwear where her shorts now hang open, you pause.

“Can I?”

“Sí,” Ona answers breathlessly.

You don’t need further encouragement. Your fingers dip past the elastic and lower still as you touch her for the first time.

“Oh,” you say, as your fingers encounter the abundant wetness between Ona’s legs. You could tell that she was turned on, but didn’t expect her to be quite so wet already. “Who’s all this for? Who gets you this wet? Me or Lucy?”

Distracted by your fingertips, Ona starts slowly rocking her hips in an effort to get some friction and you’re just about to prompt her again for an answer when she lets out a breathy, “You.”

You reward Ona briefly by brushing against her clit, but then withdraw your hand from her underwear completely. Making deliberate eye contact with Lucy past Ona’s shoulder, you bring your shiny fingers to your lips and make an exaggerated show of licking them clean of Ona’s slick.

Lucy’s jaw clenches as she struggles not to say something but you can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s turned on as much as she might be jealous.

You’ll feel her wrath later, you’re sure of it, but instead of letting yourself get too excited about that, you turn your attention back to Ona.

Stroking the back of your fingers, sticky now with the remnants of your saliva, down Ona’s cheek, you ask, “Show me to your bedroom?”

Ona gives you a look like she’s about to beg you to fuck her right here on the couch and to be honest, if she asked you to then you’d do just that, but then she slides off your lap and reaches for your hand to help you to your feet.

She starts to lead you towards the door but you use your joined hands to pull her close, drawing her in for another kiss.

It starts out as a performance for Lucy, your hand sliding down the back of Ona’s shorts and your teeth catching her lower lip to draw out a gasp, but Ona’s free hand claws at your waist and her tongue swipes into your mouth and suddenly Ona is all you can think about.

She clings to you like she needs you to survive, like she might melt away without you there to ground her, but you’re having a pretty tough time keeping yourself present too. Ona is just everything and everywhere, fingers digging into your sides, tongue sliding against yours, the soft noises that escape from her lips between kisses rushing straight to your brain like a drug.

Maybe it’s for the best that Lucy seems happy to simply spectate for now. You might lose your mind completely when she eventually decides to join in.

“Bedroom?” you mumble against Ona’s lips.

“This way,” Ona answers breathlessly.

She leads you down the hall, pretty much dragging you through the door into the bedroom, only letting go of your hand so that she can sit on the edge of the bed and look up and you pleadingly with those big eyes.

You aren’t sure if Lucy is following until you hear soft footsteps right behind you, which gives you just a split second warning for the strong hand that grabs you by the neck and pushes you into the wall, fingers wrapped around your throat just tightly enough to assert control.

Lucy doesn’t speak but the message is clear in her eyes. Remember who she belongs to.

And then Lucy leans in, kissing you suddenly.

It’s immediately more intense than the kisses you exchanged with Ona. Lucy doesn’t do anything half-heartedly and kissing is no different. With a point to prove, she catches your lower lip between her teeth until you’re gasping, then swipes her tongue into your mouth, her grip tightening slightly around your throat. It’s not enough to choke you, but just enough to remind you of her strength and attempt to assert her dominance over you before you fuck her girlfriend.

With Lucy’s lips on yours, you’re immediately taken back several years. The kiss is so familiar, so Lucy. The way her mouth glides against yours, the way her tongue plunders your mouth and makes you weak at the knees, is a reminder of all the reasons why it worked between you all those years ago, but also why it didn’t.

You were both too passionate, too competitive, too stubborn when it came to admitting you were wrong, for it to ever work as anything more than friends with benefits. Of course, that all translated into some pretty damn good sex, the likes of which you’ve never quite been able to match with any of the girls you’ve been with since Lucy.

Then there’s Ona. Just as passionate, just as competitive, but with a softer edge. She matches Lucy’s playful side but also complements Lucy’s stubbornness with pure affection. Their hearteyes in training sometimes makes you nauseous but now, having been kissed by them both in such quick succession, you think you understand exactly why their relationship works, exactly why they’re so head over heels in love with each other.

And you’re starting to understand where you fit into all this. You’ll do anything for Ona if she pleads and flashes those beautiful brown eyes at you, you’ll challenge Lucy where Ona might just submit willingly. Lucy and Ona may be perfect for each other but there’s a place for you too, even if it’s only for one night.

Maybe what you and Lucy were missing all those years ago was Ona.

“Go on then,” Lucy says, relinquishing her grip around your throat and giving you a little nudge towards the bed where Ona is patiently waiting. “Show her what you’ve got.”

Ona has kicked off her shorts fully now and lies on the bed in just her underwear, legs bent at the knees and slightly parted as she props her weight up on her elbows behind her. The lust in her eyes from watching Lucy kiss you is obvious and acts as an invitation that you can’t turn down.

Crawling onto the bed, you tug your own t-shirt over your head. Your eyes rove down her body, taking in the lean muscles, the freckles that decorate every inch of skin, the way that her knees widen to allow you to settle between her legs.

“Beautiful,” you tell her.

Ona breaks eye contact, blushing under your praise.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” you tease her, covering her body with your own and placing your palms flat on the mattress on either side of her head to hold your weight above her. “Not when we’re just getting started.”

Ona’s hand comes up to your now bare waist, fingers digging into your side as you lean down to kiss her again. The hot slide of your tongue against hers draws a gasp from Ona and she hooks an eager leg around your hip, trying to draw you even closer. You allow it, adjusting your position so that one of your thighs makes contact with Ona’s clothed pussy, letting her grind against the muscle of your leg, pressed so tightly together that you can feel how wet she is through the thin cotton of her underwear.

Breaking the kiss but continuing to rock slowly against her, you ask, “You’ve wanted this for a while, yes?”

Ona nods, then says, “Sí.” You feel the hot puff of breath as she exhales against your face.

“What do you want? Tell me.”

“You. This.”

“Just this?” you ask, already knowing the answer. “Be more specific. Tell me exactly what you want.”

Ona doesn’t tell you, but she does reach for your hand, wrapping her fingers around your wrist and guiding you between her legs. You adjust slightly to give yourself enough room to slip your hand past the waistband of her underwear, and though you’ve already touched her here once, you still sigh in delight at the wetness that immediately coats your fingertips.

“Like this?” you ask her, exploring without any real purpose, though the little gasp that Ona lets out when you brush across her clit sends a jolting reminder of your own arousal between your legs.

“Yes,” Ona encourages you. “And…”

She trails off, head falling back against the pillow and eyes shut in bliss. When she doesn’t continue, you pause the exploration of your fingers, needing to know what else she was going to say.

“And what?”

Ona’s eyelashes flutter open and she holds your gaze for a few long seconds, before she tilts her head to the side in embarrassment as she murmurs, “And … inside.”

You withdraw your hand entirely, though only so you can sit back on your feet and pull Ona’s underwear down her legs. She helps you, bringing her legs up closer to her chest and kicking them away when it gets caught around one of her ankles, until her lower half is completely bare for you.

“Spread your legs for me,” you instruct Ona. Remembering that Lucy is in the room too, you add, “Show Lucy how wet you are.”

Ona pushes her knees outwards to obey your instructions and you admire her glistening folds, hardly able to believe that Ona is this turned on, mostly because of you.

You glance across at Lucy for her reaction. She’s settled herself comfortably into the chair in the corner and seems content to stay there for the perfect view while you fuck her girlfriend.

“Please,” Ona whines, drawing your attention back to her.

It’s an ego boost to have Ona begging for you already, and almost as much of a turn-on to hear the way that Lucy speaks up from behind you again and says, “Desperate little slut. Go on, fuck her before she actually explodes.”

The last bit is directed at you and while a part of you doesn’t like that Lucy already thinks she can tell you what to do, especially when you’re the one who has got her girlfriend pleading to be touched, your own interest in giving Ona what she wants wins out over any desire to chat back to Lucy.

You settle between Ona’s legs, taking your time to get comfortable as you lift her legs over your shoulders so you can wrap your arms around her strong thighs. She’s pliant under your touch, letting you easily coax her into position, and you reward her by forgoing the teasing, leaning straight in to lick one long stroke of your tongue through her folds from bottom to top.

Her hips buck off the bed and you link your hands together across her stomach to hold her down as you wrap your lips around her clit. You flutter your tongue against her, showing off for Ona at first, but when she jerks against your grip and lets out another throaty groan, you repeat the motion for Lucy’s benefit this time, pleased with the reactions you’re able to draw from her girlfriend.

Ona tastes divine. The sounds that ripple from her throat are as sweet as honey. If you could stay here, between her legs forever, then you would.

Exploring her slowly, you take note of the things that pull the best reactions from her, but not yet committing to any kind of meaningful rhythm. You’re happy to savour each moan, each jerk of her hips, without wanting to rush her towards any kind of climax.

You’re so caught up in the taste of Ona on your tongue that you almost forget about the other person in the room until Lucy speaks up.

“Are you inside her yet?” Lucy asks. “She likes to feel full. She’ll come quickly like that.”

You’d been quite content exploring Ona at your own pace as you discover what she likes and your instinct is to point that out to Lucy. But then one of Ona’s hands finds the back of your head, urging you to give her more.

And Ona’s pleasure is more important than scoring points against Lucy.

You move your head enough to give yourself the space to bring a hand into the mix. Ona whines at the momentary loss of contact, blunt nails clawing at your scalp, but that whine slips into a filthy groan when she feels your fingertips probe at her entrance.

“Sí,” she rasps. “Inside.”

You push inside with one finger, sliding in easily from how wet Ona is. She responds straight away with another moan and you only give her a few thrusts to adjust before you’re adding a second, eager to test Lucy’s comment about Ona liking to feel full. Sure enough, her hips buck up into your hand, so you use the other one, still splayed across Ona’s lower abdomen, to hold her down as you start working your tongue against her clit again.

“Fuck,” Ona exhales, flinging an arm across her face as she tries to writhe against you, then lets out a string of Catalan that you don’t understand, but you’re pretty sure you can still grasp the general meaning of.

“Does she feel good?” Lucy’s voice, somehow even deeper than usual, rasps from behind you.

You curl your fingers on the next thrust, drawing another broken groan from Ona’s throat.

“Sí,” Ona chokes out in response to her girlfriend’s question.

“How good?” Lucy asks. “Tell us. Tell her.”

You smile against Ona’s clit, mostly at how familiar this all feels. Lucy was exactly the same when you were sleeping with her before, never content to simply have the evidence of your arousal coating her fingers or lips, she would always demand for the extra ego boost of making you tell her before she allowed you to come.

“So good,” Ona answers. Her accent sounds thicker to you, her Spanish lilt somehow even more melodic than usual. “Feel so full. Fuck, I think I might come.”

Encouraged by Ona’s confession, and also wanting to show off to Lucy a little bit that you can get her girlfriend off in record time, you double down in your efforts, wrapping your lips around her clit again as your fingers increase their tempo.

“You close, yeah?” Lucy asks.

“Yes,” Ona hisses, her hips bucking in time with your thrusts. “Please, Lucy.”

You curl your fingers against the spot that made Ona writhe earlier, wanting to remind her that it should be your name falling from her lips.

Unexpectedly, Lucy seems to be on your side.

“Oh baby,” she lets out a little laugh. “It’s not me you should be asking.”

As you gaze up Ona’s body, past the ridges of her abs and the pretty flush on her chest and neck, she looks back down at you and your gazes meet. There’s a raw desperation in her eyes, almost like she’s on the verge of tears, like her world might actually end if she isn’t given permission to come in the next ten seconds.

Her hand tightens in your hair, holding you close against her, then Ona lets out a breathy, “Please.”

Continuing to pump your fingers into her, you lift your mouth to ask, “Please what?”

“Want to come,” Ona gasps. “You feel so good. Please let me come.”

You latch your lips around her clit and suckle gently in time with the rhythm of your fingers with one goal in mind. You want her to come, perhaps even more than she wants to come herself, and you can feel that she’s getting close from the way that she’s starting to tighten around your fingers.

“Go on,” you murmur against her. “I know you’re close. Come for me.”

As you return your tongue to her clit and curl your fingers, pulsing your fingertips against that spot inside her, you feel the dam break a split second before it actually does.

Ona comes with a debauched cry that fills the bedroom. With the fingers of one hand inside her, working her through the orgasm, your other hand isn’t strong enough on its own to hold her down. Her back arches, hips lifting off the bed as it wrecks her. You keep your mouth on her, your fingers steadily working her through the peak of it until it ebbs away into pure sensitivity, Ona collapsing spent against the bed as the hand in your hair tries to tug you away.

You press your lips against her inner thigh as you withdraw your fingers, gentle kisses against soft skin as the muscles beneath stop trembling.

After a few moments, Ona’s hand on the back of your head pulls at your hair again, trying to coax you up her body. And enamoured by the sight in front of you, Ona’s skin flushed and sheened with sweat, chest rising and falling as she catches her breath, and a look in her eyes that’s half-softness and half-hunger that tells you she’s still not satisfied with only having you once, you oblige her and crawl up the bed to meet her lips in a languid kiss.

“You good?” you murmur against her mouth, though the way that Ona hums at the taste of herself on your lips and keeps that hand firm in your hair to stop you from pulling away already gives you the answer.

You kiss each other lazily, without the same urgency as before, but far more intimately than you’ve ever kissed a first-time hookup before.

But because it’s Ona, it just feels right.

Ona bends one of her knees and hooks a leg around your hips. The wet smear you immediately feel against your thigh brings you right back into what this is. What you’ve just done, what’s yet to come, and perhaps most significantly, the thrum of arousal that aches between your own legs.

Pulling back from the kiss, though letting one of your hands drop to Ona’s thigh to keep it wrapped around you, you lean your forehead against Ona’s and murmur into the space between you.

“I want to fuck you with a strap. Would that be okay?”

Ona’s breath hitches in her throat, before she answers.

“Please.”

[dearlyjun]

5% tint ☆ c. yeonjun

☆ PAIRING: sugardaddy!yeonjun x collegestudent!reader (f)

☆ GENRE: smut (18+ readers only! dont make me block you)

☆ SUMMARY: you didn't think that doing well on an exam would mean that you would be fucked in the front seat of a porsche; good thing your sugar daddy has 5% tint.

☆ WORD COUNT: 1.2K

☆ WARNINGS: gendered terms are used (girl), semi public sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, lots of praise from yeonjun, yeonjun drives a porsche (I think its a valid warning), yeonjun is wearing rings, making out, creampie kink perhaps?, dirty talk, obviously car sex!! lmk if i forgot anything its almost 1am and im an old lady.

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: so heres part of the concept that I literally could not stop yapping about if I tried. combining my interests here: a hot man taking care of me and a porsche of my dreams. I am actually considering making this a series, with a backstory and everythingg so lmk your thots :)

a big thank you to @silvergyus @nightlyawnzz @hearts4huening for being my beta readers for this, and I may use your services in the future.

CLICK HERE TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST!

walking to the front of your lecture hall, you collected the results from your latest exam. After finding your name in the pile of papers, you could barely contain your excitement when you saw the boldly printed 100% on the front.

Yeonjun would be so happy.

You quickly walked back to collect your things, before pulling out your phone to text him since he was picking you up from class.

you: going to be walking out in a few. I have good results!!

yeonjun: ahh my smart girl. I'm waiting for you out front.

Soon after you walked out through the double doors of the building that you were in, spotting Yeonjun’s gray Porsche parked up front.

Yeonjun had a pretty dark window tint, so you couldn’t see inside that well. You opened the door, and slid into the passenger seat; Yeonjun beaming.

“There’s my girl.” He had the biggest smile on his face. “Look at you, dressed all cute.” He was referencing your plaid skirt and big crewneck sweatshirt that was actually his.

“Did you just come from the office or something?” You asked him, leaning in to kiss him. “You look so nice.” You smoothed your hand over his button down dress shirt, making him smirk.

“Now let me see this test, huh?”

“Okay.” You quickly dug the scantron out of your folder that you had. Handing it over to Yeonjun, leaning over his center console as he examined it.

He was smirking.

“Yeah, one hundred percent.” You spoke with a huge smile on your face.

“Ah, see I knew you’d do well.” Yeonjun put his hand onto your jaw to kiss you.

You hummed against his mouth, pulling him closer by his shirt. “I missed you last night, daddy.” You kissed him again.

Yeonjun smirked against your lips before pulling away slightly. “Yeah? You know I want you to focus on your school too.”

“I know, but sometimes it’s easier to study when I’m sitting on your lap. You know?” You reached down to feel Yeonjun’s cock, which to your surprise was half erect.

“With my cock inside of you? Princess, you know you can’t focus.”

You remembered the time you swore that you would sit still and study on Yeonjun’s lap while he worked. You didn’t last five minutes before you were fucking yourself on his cock.

You pouted as Yeonjun moved to kiss you towards your neck. “But I’m such a good girl for you, Daddy.”

Yeonjun practically choked back a moan; if his cock wasn’t hard before, it definitely was now. “And I always reward you, don’t I?”

He quickly unbuckled his seatbelt, then went to unbuckle his belt to lower his pants. You let out an audible noise when he finally lowered his underwear, leaky, pretty cock out on full display.

“Go ahead and sit on it, pretty girl.” Yeonjun spoke, shuddering slightly when he swiped the tip with his thumb.

You felt a sudden tinge of shyness when you took off your shoes. Yeonjun could practically read your mind.

“The tints are too dark; no one can see you.”

“Okay, help me.” You answered, slightly laughing at the fact that you were going to climb over the console of a car that cost as much as your parents' house.

“I got you.” Yeonjun held onto you. Before you sat down on him, he pulled the fabric of your underwear out of the way.

“Oh my- fuck, you’re so wet.” Yeonjun gasped. “I’ll slip right fucking in.”

You lowered yourself onto him, and it was painfully slow; making you feel every inch of his cock.

Yeonjun was seconds away from ruining his leather with his fingernails with the way that he was gripping onto the passenger seat.

“Daddy…your cock. Fuck.” You sighed, dropping your head into his neck; taking a breath of his sweet cologne. He was fully inside of you, nuzzled up into that spot that makes your toes curl.

“Yeah, baby I know.” His hands were roaming your thighs and ass. Your underwear was cutting into you, but you couldn’t care less.

You slowly started to grind onto him, trying to find a rhythm in the limited space that you had. Yeonjun looked ahead, subtly watching if anyone walked by his car.

“You look so pretty, you know.” He spoke into your ear. “My dick inside of you in the front seat of my Porsche.” He suddenly gripped onto your hips, fucking you onto his cock.

“You’re my good girl, you know that?”

You couldn’t even answer, just let out a whimper of a moan.

“Repeat it back to me, baby.” His grip was so tight you thought his rings were going to make marks in your skin.

“I’m your…good girl.” You nearly choked on your words. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Yeonjun could already tell by the way that you were clenching around him, and he probably wasn’t going to last much longer himself.

Yeonjun turned your face to look at him in one quick movement. “Yeah? I’m so fucking deep in you aren’t I?” His voice was low; you knew what he was doing.

The sounds of your cunt were obscene; Yeonjun loved every second of it. He studied your face as he angled your hips differently, cockhead hitting so deep that your jaw fell slack.

You’ve never looked so pretty to him. Honors student studying biology. Probably going to end up being a doctor. He knew you’d be decorated in cords at your graduation. But now, he was hitting so deep you couldn’t form a coherent sentence if you tried.

Letting out a rather loud whine when your orgasm finally hit you, Yeonjun kissed you, shushing you. After all, his car only had a tint; not soundproofing.

“Cum in me. Please, daddy.” You were nearly delirious, whimpering expletives. Yeonjun knew you were actually being serious, because you always begged him to. “That��s my reward, right?”

And how could he say no? Not when you were whining, begging as you pulled on his necklace to kiss him.

“You can take it all?” He asked. Stupid question. You always could, even if he had to fuck it back into you.

You eagerly nodded, lips jutting out to a pout before you kissed him again.

“God you drive me fucking insane.” Yeonjun’s last words before letting go of his orgasm that he was trying to hang onto. “You feel so fucking good.”

The fact that he was probably making a mess out of his seat was sent to the back of his mind. He’d deal with that later, because the moan that you let out made it all worth it.

“Fuck.” He was panting. “You have to be quiet.” Grinding his hips with yours; his cock was still inside of you making you slightly wince at how messy everything felt.

“Shit.” You muttered, looking down at where the two of your bodies connected.

“Yeah, I made a fuckin mess.” Yeonjun jokes, his hands roaming your thighs. “We should probably go back to my place….” His voice trailed off like it was a question.

“Hmm?” You were confused. “I thought you texted me earlier that you wanted to go to the Prada store, no?”

“Yes…” Yeonjun bit down on his bottom lip, smirking. “But I don’t think I'm finished with you yet.”

☆ TAGS: @mhasimp666 @yunsbby @sikkkko

(strike through indicates I am unable to tag, please make sure your tagging feature is turned on!)

[latenightdaydreams]

Cowboy!König x Farmer (fem pov)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, mention of death (widow), p in v, spanking, oral

2.3k word count

Set in 1890's America

🤠

.

.

It has been exactly four months and seventeen days since your husband, Henry, passed away. The two of you decided to leave your dull city life for the excitement of the untouched wilderness. Everything had been going perfectly. In only five years the both of you were able to build a beautiful home, a big barn with animals to fill it, and enough crops to feed yourselves and sell. Success to the point of needing to hire extra hands. It was the American dream.

It’s just you and a failing farm. The work just continues to pile up and you never seem to be able to catch a break. With no other options, you set off into town looking for help. You hang fliers in the local stores and on street posts, hoping someone reliable will respond. All you can do is wait.

Only just two days later while you’re outside feeding your chickens, you see a black draft horse approaching. You place the bucket of feed on the floor, wipe your hands off on your blue jeans, and adjust your cream-colored button-down shirt before walking towards him. As you approach you notice that underneath the cowboy hat is an odd t-shirt like mask covering his face.

“I hope you’re not here to cause trouble.” You rest your hand on the pistol resting on your hip as you continue to approach him.

“Nein, no trouble, Fräulein."

His thick Austrian accent takes you by surprise. Your eyes look over his body as he gets off of his horse, taking note of how massive this man is. He looks down at you with his pale blue eyes squinting from a smile.

“I’m König,” he holds his hand out to you, “I saw your fliers in town.”

“I’m, y/n. Have you worked on a farm before?” You weakly shake his hand, your body so exhausted from hours of work and no rest.

“I grew up on one in Austria.”

You cross your arms keeping your defenses up as you two speak. There are so many questions running through your mind about his mask, but you decide to not ask. Never in your life did you think a 6’10 giant would be the one to show up.

“Well, as the post states; I can’t pay much but I can offer food and a room to compensate.”

The fact that you can’t afford to pay the standard rate to a farm hand makes you feel ashamed. There used to be three workers and now it’s only you. You can feel the heat in your face begin to build as you wait for him to reject your offer. Without him, you might not be able to keep the farm past this coming harvesting season.

“That sounds like a good deal to me, Fräulein.”

A small smile cracks at the corner of your lips as he agrees. There is a wave of relief that washes over your body. The possibility of getting the farm back to its glory days lingers in the back of your mind.

“Come with me, I’ll give you a tour.”

You turn and start with showing him the farm land before walking inside the home. It’s a two-story farmhouse, well taken care of by your husband. On the walls there are two photos; one of you and your late husband and the other of your parents. You notice König eyeing them, but he doesn’t ask about it.

Up the stairs and around to the left is the spare room. It was supposed to be a nursery, but those hopes of a family died with your husband. In the corner is a single bed and a wardrobe on the wall. It’s not a must, but it’s all you could afford.

“Here is where you’ll be sleeping.” Your eyes follow König as he walks past. His muscles are so big the ripple though the tight blue shirt he’s wearing. His thighs would be so nice to sit on. Henry was a skinny little man. You didn’t know men could be this big. “There are some house rules. No parties, no drinking yourself dumb, and please clean up after yourself.”

König places his small bag on the bed; clearly, he travels light. He nods as he looks around and then his eyes land back on you. The beautiful shade of light blue is only accentuated by the black mask covering his face.

“Ja, I promise to follow the rules. When do I start?”

“You can help me now. All of the animals are fed, but the stalls need to be cleaned out.”

“I’m on it.” König says as he walks past you. You get a whiff of his musky smell from his travels. Deep inside you feel wrong but, on the surface, you can’t help but to be aroused by the man.

You wait a moment before going outside to tend to the crops. Right now, you just need to remain focused on the farm and Henry’s vision. There is no time for men in this life.

You march down the stairs and head to the barn to grab your tools. Once you enter the door you see König with the pitchfork shoveling the animal manure, just as you asked of him. Except his shirt is now off and resting over one of the hooks on the wall. His body is glistening with sweat as his muscles flex with each movement. Trying to not get caught staring, you turn and grab what you need quickly and leave. The sound of your heart beat echoes in your ears, what is wrong with you?

The day passes until the sun begins to set. You’ve noticed that König took the liberty to go around the barn and fix things that have been broken for a while. His work ethic only makes you feel even worse for not being able to pay him more.

A few days pass, the both of you have slowly begun to build a routine. It has been nice to have him around the house, the chores no longer seem unmanageable. There hasn’t been much conversation, but you steal glances of his body everyday when he’s outside.

Today as you’re bent over planting seeds, you feel a warm hand rest on your lower back. You can feel a tingle crash over your body as you stand and turn to him. Your bodies are so close that you can feel the heat radiating from him. All you want to do is rub your hand down his chest and feel his sweat on your body.

“I can finish up; you should go inside and rest.” His eyes flicker back and forth between yours causing your heart to flutter.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Bitte meine Liebe, let me finish.”

You nod slowly. His hand drifts from your back to the curve of your rear before dropping off. The look he gives you melts you completely. Thanking him once more, you walk forward and towards the house. You turn back to look at König and see his eyes following your hips before he continues working.

As you turn the corner, you realize that you forgot your jacket in the barn. You walk back and see it lying next to König’s shirt. With your jacket in hand, you look around before grabbing his shirt. Bringing it up to your face, you take a deep breath in, savoring his scent.

“Liebling, I thought I told you to get some rest.”

König’s voice causes you to jump, accidently dropping his shirt on the ground before turning around to face him. You can’t seem to find the right words to attempt to talk yourself out of this situation; it’s embarrassing.

“I’m so sorry, I know this must look—”

“Like you were smelling my shirt.” König says with a certain cheerful tone in his voice.

All you can do is nod, you’ve been caught; the thought of him quitting makes your heart drop. Words escape you; how does one apologize for this? You pick his shirt back up and hand it to him.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat in a meek tone.

König looks at you for a while before slowly approaching you. His massive hand ups the side of your face and tilts your head back for you to look directly into his eyes. A chill travels over your body.

“That’s…very naughty of you.” His voice is almost a whisper as his other arm wraps around the side of you, pressing you against his chest.

You look up with wide eyes at his response; it isn’t what you were expecting at all. Before you can say anything, his hand squeezes your soft plump ass through your jeans. He gently grinds his hips up against you, making sure you feel how aroused you make him.

“You are simply stunning, Liebling.” König growls in your ear, goosebumps travel all over.

Both of his hands move down to unbutton your shirt, every button felt like it was taking an eternity to undo. The way he looks at your bare breasts like a hungry beast causes your pussy to tingle, a rush of desire pulsing throughout your body. He gently pulls his cowboy hat off and places it on the wooden stable behind you, pulling off his mask as well.

You see a long and deep scar that travels down the right side of his face. It isn’t a turn off for you, he’s still a handsome man. With one hand you reach up and caress the right side of his face gently, König presses his face into your hand as he relishes your touch.

He leans down and wraps his lips around one of your nipples while he unbuttons your jeans. The feeling of his wet tongue swirling around your nipple causes you to let out a soft moan. Your fingers comb back his messy blonde hair as you watch him with closed eyes enjoy your body.

The fabric of your jeans brush along your legs as he pulls them down off of your body along with your underwear. His large hands caress your legs from your calves up to your thighs. He pulls away to look at your full body; your eyes drop to his hands to see his erection straining against his jeans. Your eyes follow as he stands up, towering over your much smaller frame as his hands undo his pants. In this moment you didn’t feel like a widower or even the stress of the farm. It’s just you and König.

A tiny yelp leaves you as he lifts you up and holds you in his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist while he walks with you to the barn wall. His lips crash into yours in a passionate kiss. You pull him to you, deepening the kiss. He tastes strongly of tobacco and smells like sweat from working in the hot sun all day.

König pulls away from the kiss, leaving your lips wet and craving more of him. His eyes look hazy, drunk at this moment. Then you see the head of his cock press against your sopping wet pussy. His once pale blue eyes are now blackened by his pupils.

With one harsh thrust, König shoves himself inside of you. A loud moan leaves your lips as your face scrunches with pleasure. König is such a strong man that he so effortlessly holds you and moves you down on to his cock to meet his thrust.

“Y/n.” He huffs your name.

No words can even be formed as your body experiences new heights of pleasure you’ve never felt before. His cock is monstrous, bullying itself inside of you. Your short finger nails dig into and drag across his pale skin, reddened from the blistering August sun.

Animalistic groans leave König as the most pathetic mewls leave yours. His body leans against yours as he presses you harder against the barn wall, his hips bucking up rapidly like a man in heat. You feel a way of electricity as his tongue licks across the side of your neck. He covers your pulse point with his lips and begins to lightly suck.

Beads of sweat begin to drip on your body, both of you growing increasingly slippery. He gently puts you down, but quickly grabs you by the back of your neck and walks you over to a stack of hay. Not being too rough, he bends you over the stack and presses your face into the hay.

You form goosebumps across your body as he gently caresses down to your hips, grasping them firmly. His pace continues, but you feel his heavy balls slapping against your swollen clit. Your eyes flutter back as one hand reaches behind you to push his chest.

“Too much.” You whimper.

König doesn’t listen, grabbing your arms and folding it behind your back instead. He reaches for your other arm to also hold it that way, one of his hands wrapping around both of your wrist to keep them together. Your ass ripples with every merciless thrust only bringing you closer to orgasm.

You can feel your pussy clenching around his cock, a low moan leaving him in response. This is just too much. The strong build up of ecstasy radiates from deep inside of your core throughout your whole body. In response to this sensation you tremble, König’s name being the only thing you can say as you cry for him over and over again.

“Can I—” König begins to ask, but before he finishes his sentence you can feel his cock begin to pulse deep inside. His heavy body leans forward and rest on you, pressing you more into the hay. He gives your marked neck soft kisses as your body takes every single drop of his cum.

[slutforleeminho]

heyy, i love your work, i was wondering if you could write a fic based on the song ‘the other woman’ by lana del rey where the reader is the other woman. you could do it about any member :)

this is my first ever request since i’ve been on this app so i hope i did it right 😭

The other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin

thank you so much! i’m so happy that your first ask was on my acc! i hope you like it<3

warnings: suggestive(no explicit smut), arguing, infidelity, toxic relationship, plot twist at the end;)

"I have to go, beautiful." Hyunjin leaned down to kiss your forehead after pulling his pants up and buttoning them. He placed his hand on the side of your face, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "She'll get suspicious if I stay any longer."

This was normal for you, yours and Hyunjin's little routine. He'd take you out to dinner and treat you like a princess, paying for your meals and anything else you could possibly want. Holding your hand and taking you places you've only dreamed of going, then he'd take you home --your home-- and he'd fuck you like there was no tomorrow. And then he'd leave to do the same things with his wife.

You never understood why he pursued you the way he did when he had someone at home to take care of, but you didn't care enough to bring it up. Why would you? You have everything a young woman could ever want; a young, handsome, rich man who gives you anything you want. But only a few times a week. It's okay though, that just gives you plenty of time to do things that you enjoy like reading and going to museums and admiring the beautiful pieces of art that you wished you could just shove in your bag and take home with you.

"Okay," You said with a tired smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Actually, I meant to tell you, I won't be able to come over tomorrow. Apparently, Violet has a family reunion, and she wants me to accompany her." He stated as he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his bag from the chair in the corner of your room.

Violet. Such a pretty name for such a lucky woman.

"Oh." Was all you replied with.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, of course not, these things happen," You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into as soon as you entered this relationship, if it can even be called that. "Just text me when you can. let me know when you want to meet up."

"Of course." He smiled.

He kissed you deeply before he left that night, almost making you forget that he had someone at home waiting for him, and you would be left here, cold and alone.

That text that he promised didnt come until a week later.

"I miss the way you feel wrapped around me." Was all that the message contained. You liked to imagine he was talking about your warm embrace, but you knew that wasn't true. He just wanted to feel an unfamiliar body underneath his.

You weren't sure how you ended up like this. When you first met Hyunjin he was sweet and caring, attentively listened to you while you complained about your bad day at work and massaged away all the soreness in your muscles. You can't remember the last time he's taken you out to dinner or bought you flowers. Now you were just his escape from his nagging wife.

You put up with the constant shame and guilt you felt for being with someone who already had their someone, because you thought that maybe his love for you would grow and that maybe someday Hyunjin would realize that you're the one he wants to spend every waking moment with and not someone else. But as your love for him grew your patience shrunk until one day you snapped.

Hyunjin was collecting his things after he had finished what he came here for, which was to get his dick wet and nothing more. "I won't see you again after tonight."

Hyunjin stopped in his tracks and stared at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean I deserve more than this. I deserve to have someone's full attention and all of their heart." You held yourself together, determined not to cry Infront of him. He doesn't deserve your tears.

"Baby, what are you even talking about?" He knelt down in front of you and placed his hand on your shaking knees. "Of course, I love you."

"No, you don't," You shook your head. "You love my body, you love having someone at your disposal, someone you can use only for your own pleasure. If you loved me even in the slightest there wouldn't be another woman getting the treatment that I crave so fucking much." All the emotion you've kept stuffed away finally revealed itself in the form of a single tear running down your cheek.

It was silent for a long time before Hyunjin spoke. "I'll leave her." You snapped your head up so fast that it hurt. "If that's what you want than I'll do it." The way he worded it as if it was your choice whether his marriage ended or not made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn't deny that you felt a flutter of hope in your chest that maybe this didn't have to end after all. But you're smarter than that. He says this now, but he doesn't mean it, and even if he did you wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that a woman who did nothing wrong was out there most likely crying herself to sleep while your warm and safe in the love of her life's arms.

"No, be with her. I'll be okay." That was a complete lie but even after everything he's done, you still don't want him to worry about you.

"Please don't do this to me. I love you and I want to be with you. He held on to your legs tighter.

"Funny, isn't that what you told her when you vowed in front of God and everyone that your love for her would be eternal." His mouth snapped shut and his hands left your legs before he stood. He leaned down and before you could register what was happening his lips were on yours. You immediately reciprocated, leaning forward and pressing yourself closer into him. He was so intoxicating, the way his tongue glided with yours so smoothly had you in a trance; you snapped out of it when he placed his right knee on the bed beside you and started pushing you backwards. "No!" you shoved him away. He stumbled backwards but regained his balance quickly. "I'm not doing this with you, Hyunjin. I can't do this anymore, its wrong."

"Since when do you have morals?" His voice was louder this time, he was pissed.

"I've always had them, but I put them aside because I love you!" It was your turn to stand up and look him square in the face. "But the longer we do this the more I realize that this isn't love, its obsession and its toxic. You never loved me Hyunjin you were curious about infidelity, and I was an easy target because my standards were so fucking low that I actually settled for you."

"Fuck this, I don't have to sit here and listen to you degrade me like this." He grabbed his bag and left, but not without slamming the door behind him.

~

The past month has been hell. After laying in your bed for an entire week you decided to pack up all of Hyunjins things and throw them out, the smell of him that was radiating off of them was making you sick to your stomach every time you walked in the room. And then you went to the mall to treat yourself to a new outfit, you wanted something that didn't have any memories of him attached to it. A trip to your favorite coffee shop followed after that. you hadn't been her in a while and you missed the smell of fresh espresso as you walked in the door.

After getting yourself your favorite -a butter pecan macchiato and a small triple chocolate brownie (they were out of doughnuts)- You sat in the best spot in the entire shop, in a little booth in the corner right next to the window, where you could watch the leaves that had no color left in them fall to the ground only to get trampled over by the passing pedestrians. The leaves reminded you a lot of yourself in a way, but you hoped you never had to fall again.

"Hi," a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find yourself looking up at a very handsome young man. His hair was blonde, and it came down to his shoulders. he had an apron on, and a big smile plastered across his face, little freckles decorated his cheeks. "I saw you bought one of the brownies, it's a new recipe I tried, and I wanted to ask if you enjoyed it."

"Oh," You blinked up at him. "Um yeah it's really good, maybe my new favorite."

"Oh, thank god," He let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried that it wouldn't be any good. See a couple of the ingredients I use were sold out, so I had to substitute-" He stooped in the middle of his sentence. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to do that a lot."

"No, it's okay," You huffed out a laugh. He was so cute. "Now I'm curious about what ingredients were sold out." You joked.

He smiled widely at you and stretched his hand out. "I'm Felix."

You hesitated but took his hand anyway. "Nice to meet you, Felix."

PART TWO HERE

THANK YOUUU ALL FOR A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO FEEL 😭

taglist: @katsukis1wife @sungprotector @seung-mine @favieee @soephiphanymain @z4hir @minnieslover @kjr-army @caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

TF141 taking you on a picnic date 💐

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

They're a little very all over the place because I wrote all of them on different days lol

I hope you'll enjoy it anyway <3

Some NSFW for all of them, but it's just a little bit at the very end, the rest is sweet fluff!!

Lmk who you would go on a picnic date with!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ��� ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

John is such a romantic.

Maybe not the flashy kind, but in subtle and sincere ways. He would absolutely love to take you on a picnic date, he might even be more excited about it than you are.

You know how girls have those dreams of specific dates or scenarios??? Well, boys have that too, and this is John's. He finds the perfect spot, a secluded park with a field of wildflowers that bloom beautifully in the summer.

As ready as he was to organize the whole thing himself in the matter of a day, he'd adore to organize it with you. Write a grocery list, make some homemade goods, pack up the car. The domesticity makes his heart do flips.

"Do you reckon champagne would be too over the top?"

"John, honey, we're going on a picnic."

"Touchè."

And it's 100% fool proof.

This man has something planned for every single scenario because nothing will ruin this for him. He'll hold your umbrella while he gets soaked if he has to.

He hasn't asked you to marry him yet, but this seals the deal for him. He's already imagining going on a picnic like this on every single anniversary until you're physically unable to.

Did he overdo it a bit with the outfit? Maybe, but he couldn't care less about potential grass stains when his white button-down shirt and his beige slacks basically make you drool.

John insisted on a classic picnic basket, but he'll accept input regarding the pattern of the blanket. He's so utterly in love with you it's ridiculous. And when you come down the stairs in a flowy and floral sundress the blood in his body doesn't know where to rush first, his heart or his cock.

"Fucking hell, dove. You look divine."

He makes heart eyes at you but also has a raging hard on. What can he say? You keep him balanced.

John has to try so hard not to drop to his knees in front of you and beg. For what? He doesn't even know. It just feels like the right thing to do with you looking like a goddess. He loves it when he can press his nose against your soft mound all while his forehead rests on your pudgy tummy and your fingers card through his hair.

The drive there is lovely. The sun is out, it's a comfortable temperature, and the mood is high. The windows are rolled down, and you both sing along to music while his hand is planted firmly in yours. The location is even more beautiful than you thought. There's willow trees and all kinds of sweet smelling flowers accompanied by the symphony of busy bees and chirping birds.

After everything is set up, it's the best day of your life, probably. It's so so so nice.

And yes, he did bring the champagne.

Your head is in his lap while he strokes your hair and feeds you bits of cake. It's so romantic that it's sickening. SICKENING, I say. He's just so perfect. You talk and laugh, and it's so fun. T

he day goes by in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, it's golden hour, and John swears you're heaven on earth. You're so pretty, and he wants nothing more than to kiss you silly, frankly.

So he does.

Just bristly and sloppy kisses wherever he can reach, your cheeks, jaw, neck. You shift your position, you're now lying down on the blanket, facing each other. The tips of your noses touch, and you're a tangled mess of limbs.

John wants to fuck you more than he ever wanted anything in his life, but he's a man of style, so rubbing you through your panties until your hips buck away from his hand will have to do until you get home and he can take care of you properly <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Johnny only wants to spend time with you. He doesn't care how.

He'll do anything to be by your side. Such a clingy bastard but we all love him for that. He loves being outside, and now he gets to let out his romantic side, too???? He's sold.

I'm also firmly convinced that he listened in on what his sisters gushed about in books or movies, and he uses that as his guideline for dates.

He makes sure there's a variety of different foods. Let's be honest he probably packed way too much, but he just wants to have options! Frankly, Johnny's is positively buzzing with excitement to get to spend such a lovely day with you.

As much as he loves to laze around with you on the couch, he needs air to breathe. So anything that's outside is an immediate yes from him. He's so so so excited that he doesn't shut up about it for days before the actual date.

Johnny is 100% one to overpack. He takes absolutely EVERYTHING, and you end up not even using half of it.

"I- Johnny??"

"Yeah, bonnie?"

"Why, for the love of God, did you bring a hazmat suit???"

"Ya never know!"

He will pack so many outdoor activities, like frisbee, badminton, a football, literally so much but you don't end up using any of it because he'll doze off as the sun shines down on the both of you.

He just can't help it! Your pudgy tummy is such a nice pillow, and the way your fingers rake through his mohawk and over his scalp nearly make his eyes roll into the back of his head.

He doesn't notice the smiles and nice looks the pair of you get from bypassers, but you can't help but giggle. It makes your belly jiggle, which in turn makes Johnny smile, still face down in your soft fat.

After he wakes up, though, there's a lot of talking that you'll happily listen to.

Corny jokes, overexaggerated stories from missions or his family, and from time to time, he'll get distracted by your pretty face with all its soft edges and kiss you.

Constant snacking. I mean, we all know the boys can EAT, but Johnny is such a foodie. Will eat everything and anything.

He also LOVES Irn Bru. It's definitely more of an... acquired taste, shall we say, but I think it's also very nostalgic for him.

He doesn't care what you wear. However, there are some things that get him feral. Sundresses are obviously on the list, but he adores long skirts. He likes how they flow when there's a nice breeze, and he thinks they make you look very elegant.

He will play into the whole Princess charade with long skirts or dresses.

"There's ma princess. Are ya ready to depart, m'lady?"

He will also bow very dramatically.

Undoubtedly, his favorite part of those skirts is when he gets to push them up your plush thighs and bury is face in your sweet cunt while the fabric is bunched up around your wide hips and fiddles with the hem because his goal is to bring you to bliss with his tongue only <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Kyle loves the water.

I don't know why, but I feel it in my bones. From streams and lakes all the way to the great big ocean. His casual style in the summer would definitely be coastal grandson, too.

So your picnic date would obviously take place in the vinicty of water. It's somewhere in a small park that has a nice big lake with lilypads and ducks swimming across it.

You'd be right by the shore, feet in the shallow water while you enjoy your lunch. Kyle is so sweet and considerate!

He'd bring you a bouquet of daisies and lovingly hold your hand in his. If it gets a little too breezy, he'll tuck you into his side and stretch his jacket over the both of you as much as he can.

He always brings you a new rock from that lake when he comes home from his morning run, and when you two are at the beach, he'll collect seashells with you.

It's all about balance and teamwork with Kyle. He makes the sandwiches while you whip up a quick sweet treat. You carry the basket while he has the blanket slung over his shoulder and your drinks in the other hand!

I feel like he'd really enjoy picnics, but they're not his favorite activity. He likes to explore a bit, just sitting around isn't quite his style. But it's nice to just sit and breathe sometimes.

For dates, he prefers the classic going out to dinner. Getting to see you all dressed up in the gentle atmosphere of a cozy restaurant makes his heart swell. But he won't ever deny you anything. Definitely not something as simple as a picnic.

A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he sees a little duck family waddling along the shore before they glide into the water.

"You think we'll have little ducklings of our own one day?"

You can only match his smile as you follow his line of sight.

"Who knows, maybe."

He pulls you close and presses a kiss to your temple. The picnic is starting to grow on him.

"... did you mean actual ducklings, or was it a metaphor for kids?"

"Both?"

As badly as you want to call him ridiculous, the mental image of Kyle with a duckling or a baby makes your heart beat with affection.

Also does not care what you wear, but he, too, has a weakness for sundresses as all men do. The way it hugs your ass, your tummy, and your supple tits makes him want to sink his teeth into your soft flesh.

An absolute sucker for a square neckline. No, I can not elaborate. You'll just have to take my word for it.

You watch the sunset together, the park becoming emptier as the light fades. He loves how you look during the golden hour and will gently hold your face to admire all your pretty features. Kyle likes that the park now only has the both of you and a pair of swans that swim over the lake like lovers.

What he loves even more is making you ride his slender fingers while the only sounds that fill the air is the chirping of cicadas and your heavenly moans while the remnants of the golden sun shine down on you making you look like a dream come true <3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Simon isn't thrilled, let's say.

When he thinks of picnics he thinks of big open spaces, obnoxious people with annoying kids and uncomfortable wooden benches. Of which none are his cup of tea.

So you make compromises. Talk about it and ask what he would be okay with. He isn't the biggest fan of PDA, he's stuck between wanting to show off his love for you to the whole world and keeping it close to his heart like the sacred thing that it is.

But Simon perks up when you mention something about a lovely forest that's pretty secluded. Now that he can work with. Even though he's a born city boy, he'd much rather take a walk in a forest or on a little trail than on the busy streets of Manchester or London.

So he agrees, deciding that your excited reaction and thank you kisses were already worth it. He watches as you prepare the lunch you're taking with you, answering all your questions on what he'd prefer.

The truth, he'd eat rocks if your lovely hands prepared them.

He packs up the car and drives to the car park nearby, grumbling over the fee before it all melts away when he sees your smile.

The walk there on its own is nice. Holding your hand and listening to the birdsong that echoes along the tall trees. Of course, he's carrying everything.

You will never ever have to carry anything with him around, not on his watch. It's his way of repaying you for taking care of him and loving him. He would've carried you as well if you weren't so fussy about it.

When you set up the blanket and just lay down, it's the first time you think you've ever seen his shoulders untense on their own.

Simon's eyes even flutter shut, and his breath evens out.

It's just the two of you in a little glade with the vast green of the woods making your own little sanctuary.

Your head is on his shoulder, and his nose is buried in your hair.

"This.. this is nice."

He speaks so softly as if not to disturb the peace of nature. You can't help but smile and press a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm glad you think so. It is really nice."

It's mostly pleasant silence after that with the occasional short conversation, but that's how you like it best.

When you hand him his lovingly prepared sandwich, he catches your chin between his fingers and kisses you so softly that you melt right into his touch.

"You're so patient with me, love. I appreciate it."

"Of course. A few compromises aren't the end of the world if it means you're happy."

He's a fucking goner, okay.

He loves it when you wear one of his sweat jackets or flannels over a nice dress. It's so obviously not yours which signals to other people that you're taken.

And considering the size and color of the thing, it's safe to assume it belongs to that hunk of a man always by your side.

He lays back onto the soft blanket and pulls you onto his chest, wrapping his arms around you. There are a few sun spots shining through the thick canopy of leaves, warming your skin.

You're half asleep, dozing off, ignoring the way he fiddles with his trousers until he pushes your panties to the side and sinks his thick cock into your pussy, having you warm his length. It makes him feel so impossibly close to you and his brain melts and before you know it, he's snoring beneath you, his dick buried inside of you <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you liked it! <3

More CoD and other works -> 💫