#i completely cut around the fact he showers fully clothed.

[psihawaii]

scott the woz nonbinary dysphoria comp

[we-were-so-beautiful]

4. shower

wow look it's another chapter!!! like... not that long after the last one, even! honestly I had the first 3 sections of this basically entirely written not long after finishing the last one, but eventually I decided I should probably do literally anything else for a while (hyperfocus is a real dick lol), and so I'm just now getting back to it. I thought this was gonna be on the shorter side, but it's about the same as the last one, around 1.3k! there's a pretty important reveal in this one...

Content warnings for this chapter: box boy universe, pet whump, dehumanization, conditioning, infected wounds, (severe) illness. As always, please let me know if there's anything else I need to tag.

[masterlist] [chapter three]

Vanessa’s never been particularly sensitive to scents��it’s a saving grace, in a mind where too much light or sound or texture can make her feel like she’s dying. But by the time the guy lying shaking on the seats behind her practically falls out of the taxi in front of her stoop, even she’s having a hard time with the smell coming off of him. Given how the driver peels away with all his windows down the second she pulls the last scrap of soiled newspaper from his backseat, it probably isn’t just her.

She turns back to the guy, for the first time finally alone with him. She’s too short to be used to talking down to people, but he’s hunched himself into that weird curled-up position again, so when she speaks it's aimed vaguely toward the top of his head. “Okay. First things first, we’re getting your ass in the shower,” she tells him. “And then we can deal with the effects of my questionable life decisions.” She pauses for a moment, considers. “Well. This one, anyway.”

There’s no way she’s getting him in through the front like this. Too many stairs, and too much dirt. The garden door will have to cut it. She motions for him to follow her down the alley, and he unfurls himself just enough to shuffle after her.

As soon as the shadows close in around them, she looks back over her shoulder. When she’s satisfied that no one can see them, she unclasps the collar from around his neck and tosses it, leash and all, into the garbage.

—

Vanessa can’t say she’s ever been grateful for the fact that her parents are insane enough to have a swimming pool in the basement of their New York fucking brownstone. Quite frankly, she still isn’t; they got the fucker installed when she was a kid and she screamed for so many days they finally packed her off to a hotel with her nanny of the week just to shut her up. Which they probably should have done in the first place, given that she was nine and there was a jackhammer in her fucking basement.

What she is grateful for now, though, is that the part of this floor that isn’t taken up by the pool—or the hot tub, or the weirdly redundant multi-person bathtub—is a shower stall the size of her literal bedroom. Complete with benches, and removable showerheads, and, she’s hoping, everything else she could possibly need right now.

“In here,” she motions, and he drags himself onto the tiles. “I’d offer you the weirdly redundant multi-person bathtub, but you’ve barely been able to keep your head up all day and the last thing I need is to fucking drown a guy in my basement. Also no offense but you’re literally so dirty right now I’d have to drain the fucker the second you got in. After this you can have a bath whenever you want, if you’re into that sorta thing, but for right now you’re getting a damn rinse.”

—

Once he’s more or less situated on the built-in shower bench, propped up in the corner in hopes it’ll keep him from falling ass over, Vanessa gets to work, still fully clothed down to her chucks on the marble tile. She unhooks a showerhead and aims it at the drain while it warms up. “Is this okay?” she asks, pointing it at his feet, and he flinches sluggishly but doesn’t respond either way.

“I don’t know what that means, guy.” She tests the water again with her hand. “It can’t be that bad, can it?” she muses out loud. “It’s the same temperature I’d use for me, and fuck knows I’m… y’know, picky. So if you want it different you gotta tell me, okay.”

He doesn’t tell her shit. But he doesn’t flinch too much harder when she moves the stream of water up toward his knees, either, and she figures that’s the best she’s gonna get.

She leans over him and focuses the showerhead on his hair. It’s matted stiff as tree bark, the water barely able to permeate through the layers of filth. “Shit, I dunno man, your hair’s got so much crap in it. Not to mention it wouldn’t surprise me if that shelter gave you goddamn lice.” She shudders. “Might be better off just cutting it short.”

There’s a noise she barely registers as a gasp before his ice-pale eyes fly open and he clutches her arm, quicker than she’s seen him move by fucking light years. She jerks automatically out of his grip, dropping the showerhead in her alarm, but he fixes her with a lidless, panicky stare and the eye contact is so startling she’s frozen to the spot. “Please…” he wheezes, “don’t.”

“You fuckin’ what, dude?”

“Don’t… cut… my hair.”

She blinks, astonished. “That’s the first thing you’ve said all fucking day, isn’t it?” He doesn’t offer another. “Christ. Typical fuckin’ me not to notice.” She huffs quietly. “Well shit, dude, I guess if you give enough of a fuck to speak up about it it can stay. But so help me if I find a single fucking nit in there.”

He whimpers quietly, squeezing his eyes shut, but he doesn’t say another word.

—

Vanessa gingerly retrieves the showerhead from where it’s spattering up at the ceiling, along with an oversized lace bath pouf and a mostly-full bottle of body wash she’s pretty sure is fucking designer. If you could see me now, Mom, she thinks, squirting the gel at his left shoulder, the one closest to her. You… well, you probably still wouldn’t give a shit. 

She touches the pouf to his sullied skin as gently as she can, and she knows she’s not well-coordinated at the best of times but she really doesn’t feel like she deserves the choked-off sound he makes or the way he shrinks away from her when she makes contact. “Oh cmon, guy, look I know but you gotta let me get this shit off you, there’s no way it’s not fucking your shit up worse than it already is,” she cajoles, and whatever she’s said it makes something in his posture go slack and he rolls back toward her, opening himself to her touch. “Thanks, uh, I think,” she hedges, and begins to lather him up with slow, concentrative strokes. She flicks the shower back on, sluicing suds and dirt from his skin in equal measure.

"Ohhh, fucking yiiiiikes," Vanessa says softly.

With the first layer of filth washed away, Vanessa can see the far grimmer reality that’s been hidden underneath. Rows of jagged, infected gashes streak their way across his shoulder to his chest. The skin around them burns an angry red, the wounds themselves all but smothered in sickly whitish-yellow. What narrow swathes of skin remain intact are mottled purple, and now that she’s touching him, she can tell he’s just… way too much hotter than any person should ever be.

She lowers the temperature of the water and keeps washing him, afraid to look but needing to see. Each stroke only reveals more of the same. His chest and left shoulder seem to have gotten most of the worst of it, but there are stripes across his arm, his back, his stomach, deep gouges in his legs. She hasn’t tried to touch his face yet, but now that she knows what to look for she thinks she can even see a scratch or several across his cheek, trailing up into his hairline. Jesus fuck.

It all makes a sinister sort of sense now, she thinks: the shallow breathing, the shivers, the near-total lack of response. And here she thought he just had regular rescuee trauma.

“Fuck,” she breathes out quietly, as the realization creeps over her like ice.

There’s something really, really wrong with this guy.

-

taglist: @maracujatangerine @pigeonwhumps @tragedyinblue @marchtothefuckingsea @octopus-reactivated @briars7

[ein-schnee-sturm]

“ who did this to you ? ” - Ruby for Weiss

This was why why he never let any of his friends see him anything other than fully clothed. But after the months he had spent with That Man in That Place, after being kidnapped and held for ransom, Weiss was exhausted. So he’d slipped, and now Ruby knew. Having felt secure in the knowledge that the house all of them occupied was otherwise empty, he had emerged from a long shower in nothing but a towel, knee-length white hair and equally snow-white skin still dripping with water. (It was a small mercy that his hair hid what remained of his tail, as he couldn’t have borne Ruby seeing that, on top of everything else.) s it was, Weiss forced himself to keep moving, even though he’d started anxiously stimming. Somehow, he managed to get dressed in his borrowed clothes — boxers, jeans, and a hoodie, the latter two of which he’d never worn before in his entire life — despite the fluttering and jerking motions of his hands and wrists; he’d even started rocking back and forth, at some point.

Once completely dressed, though he continued to rock, Weiss managed to at least look in the direction of Ruby’s face. Silence, and the utter ruin of his body weighed between them. One of the few things he... tolerated about this body, was his rather small chest and equally narrow hips; he would still bind, sometimes, but usually only when the dysphoria was particularly bad. But that probably wasn't what drew the eye. No, from the front, what anyone would notice first were the lurid shadows cast by bones. Though muscle coiled beneath paper-thin and paper-pale skin, it couldn't hide the fact that he was fragile to look at. Ribs protruded from his skin, visible especially when he breathed in deep. In truth, he looked gaunt, the whole picture coming together clearly now. Collarbones prominent, as well as cheekbones, jawline sharp as a knife; hips sharper. He couldn't put on weight if he tried; he would always look frail and weak.

Even juxtaposed against the steel that usually made up his spine and the weight that kept his shoulders straight, it was little wonder people treated him like glass, something to be defended. ...And after the bones, came the scars. Some of the ladder rungs climbing his inner forearms and sides and inner thighs were straight and neat, as orderly as he needed preferred everything else to be. But others were far from neat, others spat on the concept of order. Those were, almost invariably, the worst. A thick rope of scar tissue bisecting the horizontal scars up his right thigh. Haphazard, jagged cuts up the inside of his right arm and curving around to his bicep. Patches of still-rough tissue that looked almost like claw marks inside the crook of his left elbow. Nondescript patterns carved over his hips. Two thick horizontal lines under each side of his chest, almost as if he'd tried to give himself top surgery. Yet the front had nothing on his back.

Even if Weiss had been able to Summon before, there was literally no way on Remnant that he would've been able to cause the ruin of his back on his own... Which left the only other conclusion, the obvious one. Occam's Razor. That they had been caused by someone else — and when it came to the Schnee Family, there was only one person who would have done it. A network of lines, the ropes of puckered flesh that snaked down his back in winding, crisscrossing patterns; still raised and angry and painful, on some days. Or when he thought about That Man. Or when he hated himself. Or most of the time, honestly. Some looked to have been caused by a whip, but the great majority had been from a belt. Comparatively, the four scars on his face — one vertical and three diagonal — seemed almost an afterthought. When Weiss finally spoke, his voice sounded emptier than usual, and his expression was exhaustedly blank; like he’d been hollowed out.

“…I would tell you, but I think you already know.”

@onlyheartaches

[hollyoongs]

0.02: | 𝐓𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘

Wind it back, I'll take it slow.

Leave you with that afterglow

ᨓ 。lee heeseung x fem reader ꒰📅 ꒱﹕smut with plot ﹕+ 5.3k

contains: voyeurism, oral (male and female), praise kink, boob guy Heeseung, Heeseung has a lip ring (IT'S IN FACT A WARNING), slight degratation, sex-tape, shower sex, doggy style, face off, bullseye, stand-up position. ┈─★

𝓈𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠:

Two roommates, you and Heeseung, have a complex relationship marked by challenge and competitiveness. Heeseung, competitive and energetic, believes he is the best in bed and challenges you to a bet to prove it. You have seven days to see if he can back up his claim

seven masterlist [here]

monday || wednesday

In the stillness of the room, you moved on to your bed, reliving the events of the morning. Your limbs spread gracefully, grabbing the bed space. A pleasant surprise seized you when you realized that a loose shirt covered your figure, guarding your underwear. However, Heeseung's absence baffled you. Usually, after an intimate encounter, the presence next to you awaited a passionate sequel before returning to the dream realm, a custom that you vehemently hated. So finding the empty space in your bed made you frown.

Your mobile device was still connected, indicating its full load. The clock was ticking around two o'clock in the afternoon, and a sense of renewal overwhelms you completely. Your thoughts slipped into the past event; a shy blush colored your cheeks. You still couldn't fully assimilate yourself to the whims of your hormones at the time. However, you recognized that you had experienced one of the most rewarding moments in sexual terms in a long time.

Heeseung had not only led you into questioning the talk that circulated around his erotic life (a subject that, thanks to his closeness, he didn't know at all), but also fulfilled a fantasy that, until that day, you didn't know you had inside. A familiar aroma permeating the atmosphere induced you to close your eyes and set out on the way to the kitchen, being welcomed by Heeseung's wide back and silky blue garment, thus encouraging its anticipation.

In the apartment, you found an unexpected scene: the kitchen island was decorated with two scrambled eggs, orange juice, and two bowls full of fruit, and one of them had your favorite cut into delicate portions. Your gaze rested on Heeseung, who was concentrating on its elaboration with an uncharacteristic intensity. You knew well that Heeseung's culinary skills barely extended beyond instant food, such as ramen, so seeing this filled your heart with warmth.

"Oh, you're awake. Good afternoon. Did you rest well?" The first lights of the day stroked their faces as you nodded slightly, moving towards the area where the utensils were waiting for their use.

"Yes, I wonder why you didn't wake me up." Heeseung turned off the electric stove, adding more food to one of the plates before taking it to the table.

"After our night, you were exhausted. I put you in those clothes, and we didn't share the bed to keep you from feeling uncomfortable. " Hiding a subtle smile after his departure, you found some sweetness in the action. Didn't I want to disturb you after the night they shared? It may sound stupid to have the answer before, but it was strange that he Lee Heeseung thought about it.

Of course, Heeseung had been receptive to Sunghoon's messages after that episode, encouraging him to seize the opportunity and conquer you. As a result, he was immersed in a reflection on his current situation. I knew that this approach was not the best way to earn your heart. Sex could easily be misinterpreted as a simple means of satisfying physical desires, and that perception began to weigh on him with some resentment. However, the memory of your bright eyes, widening as he shortened the distance between them, with your lips inviting him to join in a passionate kiss, unleashed his words, releasing them without any filter. And he had not spared in his sinful intentions, wishing to experience such a connection until the last of his days. Despite having promised himself, he was still in some sort of ecstasy.

The atmosphere was instantly illuminated by your presence, and sometimes the "breakfast" went to the background. In fact, time seemed to fade, and when they noticed, their mobile phones indicated that it was almost 4 p.m. You suddenly got up when you realized the delay, leaving Heeseung looking at you nervously.

"Do you have a plan for today?" When you asked that, he denied it, which made you smile.

"Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking of exploring the city to add new images to my professional portfolio. I'm not sure when I'll be back. Would you like me to bring you something for dinner?

"I'll go with you." — The inclusion of Heeseung in your plans baffled you; you couldn't help but show your perplexity. Heeseung spoke again. "I have to buy a gift for my nephew, who is about to turn four." The almost unnoticed pucher on Heeseung's lips was exposed thanks to your laughter.

Without waiting for Heeseung to respond, you quickly went to the bathroom, where you began your routine with almost choreographed precision. You had opted for a simple yet elegant outfit: sandals that highlighted the beauty of your skin and a long turquoise dress that fell gracefully on your figure. A spacious wallet hung from your shoulder, ready to house your camera, wallet, cell phone, and sunglasses. When you left his apartment and found Heeseung waiting for her, he stopped for a moment to appreciate the view. He wore a loose shirt, fresh black loose pants, and white shoes that turned an apparently basic set into a fashion statement. His eyes crossed, and Heeseung couldn't help but stare at you before he gave you a sweet smile.

"Are we…

"You look beautiful." The words were suspended in the air, and the blush on your cheeks seemed to shift to Heeseung's. Quickly, he scratched, indicating that you could pass first while he held the apartment door. You passed by his side, lowering your head to hide the smile on your lips, but you raised it to thank the boy.

When both were inside, Heeseung's hands skillfully placed themselves on the steering wheel, the journey developing in a silence that, although serene, began to weigh on them. To break the ice, Heeseung pressed the Bluetooth icon in the car and made a gesture to you to choose the music for the trip to the beach. You went under your playlist entitled "I like you" and randomly picked out a song: Mario's "Skippin'". You noticed how Heeseung's fingers kept pace on the wheel, and you heard his low voice accompanying the song. You couldn't look away from the boy, bewitched by how sweet and serene his voice was. Heeseung, realizing your attention, stared at you, his smile growing softly.

"What's the matter?" Heeseung questioned, turning his gaze to the road.

"Would you believe me if I told you I forgot you were part of the music production race for a second?" Heeseung opened his eyes with surprise, and you laughed softly.

"We've shared a lot of time as roommates, and didn't you remember I'm in the music faculty?"

"I'm sorry, I guess I got confused with your brother, who was studying engineering."

"Come on, have you heard me sing?" When you said an almost quiet "no,"  he opened his eyes wide.

"Sing to me," you said, and you could see Heeseung confidently lowering a little bit the music, enoguh to still maintain the rhythm of the song.

At a red light, he stopped the car and made a gesture as if he had a microphone in his hand and an ear. "From the moment I saw you, I knew that. You were all that I wanted in a woman. From your style to your walk to your fragrance, Baby girl, you got my heart skippin'. "

Unwillingly, your heart gave out, as the song said. Maybe it was this new facet I was discovering in Heeseung or the firmness with which he uttered those four sentences, but I had to admit that either one of them made your heart feel warm for a short second.

They embarked on their escape, the sun painting the sky with warm tones as they advanced towards the coast. The atmosphere was filled with palpable enthusiasm, and the conversation flowed naturally, mixed with the murmur of the wind and the waves that finally made themselves heard as they lowered the windows of the vehicle. You didn't know how many songs had passed or the time you spent watching the window while playing random questions between them; Heeseung was the one who most appreciated the moment. Heeseung strove hard in his words, seeking the right measure between frankness and subtlety, each prayer woven with the intention of revealing his interest without overwhelming.

"We're here!" Finally, after a long journey that seemed endless, you and Heeseung arrived at their desired destination, and excitement was reflected on your face. You couldn't hold back a cry of joy at the sight. As you expressed your excitement, Heeseung turned off the vehicle with a smile on his face and began to gather his belongings. And when Heeseung said 'his belongings', he was referring to your bag, which was full of essentials for the getaway, and a pair of sunglasses he had put in the glove compartment of the car once and never left.

Following his usual routine (which he could get used to if it was with you), Heeseung circled the car normally and opened the door for you to get out. You exited the vehicle with a beaming smile on your face and took a moment to observe your surroundings. The view was simply breathtaking. The tide was surprisingly calm, reflecting the serenity of the place, as the sun showed signs of beginning to say goodbye on the horizon with warm colors painting the sky. What caught your attention the most was the lack of people in the area, which made you feel an insatiable curiosity and the promise of a relaxing and private getaway.

"I can't help but think that the photos you're taking today will further improve your already impressive portfolio. No one knows this part of the beach, and what better way than to show it to you?" Heeseung smiled with a hint of complicity; the sun gilded his skin, and his eyes sparkled with genuine admiration.

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you settled your camera in his hand. "Don't believe it; there's always room for improvement. But thank you for the vote of confidence and for this place."

The beach presented itself as a perfect canvas for creativity that was just a stone's throw from your head. Captivated by the interplay between water and light, you captured images skillfully, focusing on seemingly trivial details that came to life through your lens. While working, your eyes occasionally found Heeseung, whose profile marked a harmonious silhouette against the horizon, immersed in thoughts of his own. In a fleeting instant, while you meticulously adjusted your camera controls, you managed to immortalize an image that transcended simple photography. In the picture was Heeseung, completely absorbed in his own contemplation, alien to the lens that framed him, radiating an intense and almost palpable tranquility. The snapshot did not merely capture its mere physical appearance; instead, it froze in time a state of being that spoke of introspection and authenticity, as if Heeseung's very essence had been caught at that time.

In the night, you decided to organize a photo shoot with Heeseung as your model, and he gladly accepted. Although the previous images that I had previously taken focused mainly on landscapes, everyday objects, and occasionally artistic pieces, photographs of people in his portfolio were scarce. In that session, Heeseung became part of a select group of individuals in your professional portfolio, along with your sister and her partner. Although Heeseung was reluctant to admit it and was nervous about the compliments that sprang from your mouth by their nature when modeling, the camera seemed to love him unconditionally, capturing his innate photogeny despite his limited modeling experience.

Some time later, as the sun began its slow descent into the ocean, Heeseung found himself in possession of your chamber once again. With surprising skill, he framed a photograph of you, absorbed in contemplating the horizon. The last golden rays of the afternoon caressed your face, bathing it in a light that gave it an ethereal and magical aura.

"I think you deserve a memory of yourself, don't you?" Heeseung whispered, and you looked back at him, finding his eyes full of sincerity and something else, something that seemed to resonate deeply.

The sun finally plunged into the sea, painting the sky with burning tones, and both knew it was time to return. They walked back to the car, conversations flowing like a quiet stream, as they had done with the idea. As they parted ways from the beach, Heeseung couldn't help but stare at you with a special glow in his eyes.

"It's been a wonderful day. Thank you for accepting my company." His words were simple but full of meaning, like a message not fully expressed.

You gave him a gentle smile, feeling a warm thrill to walk around your chest, changing to one of terror almost instantly. "Damn Heeseung, we forgot your nephew's gift!"

Heeseung threw a tantrum without stopping the car, despite your constant complaints. He looked at you for a moment before settling a lock of your hair behind your left ear before looking back at the front, without forgetting your nervous image from the action.

"It was an excuse to come with you. I like being by your side."

Returning to the apartment, you plopped down exhausted on the sofa, while Heeseung headed straight to the kitchen to prepare some ramyeon, his specialty, and bring some water for you. Glancing at his phone, he noticed that the day was about to come to an end. It was only logical; they had spent the day at Busan Beach, a trip that had taken their time both going and coming back. Besides, they had been so absorbed in each other that they had forgotten to eat since then, and their stomachs were growling with hunger. 

In just fifteen minutes, both of them were ready. Heeseung came out of the kitchen with the ramyeon packets and corresponding chopsticks in one hand, looking around the room for you.

"Where are you?"

"I’m in my room!" The answer came from your room, prompting Heeseung to move calmly to where you were. There, he saw you sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes, with a frown on your face and your hands hidden inside one of them.

He sat down across from you, setting the groceries on the desk.

"Do you need help?"

"I'm looking for a pink charger; my camera is dead, and I want to look at the photos one more time. Can you help me?" Without waiting for an answer, you continued rummaging through the box. Meanwhile, Heeseung picked up another box and began to do the same. Amidst the jumble of objects, in one of the boxes, he found several wires—black and white. Fortunately for him, at the bottom, among the wires, the coveted pink wire appeared.

"I found it!" You smiled cheerfully at the sight of the charger and immediately plugged it into your device. Heeseung, on the other hand, headed to the desk to pick up his food, followed by you. For the first time, a comfortable silence reigned in the room as you two were practically inhaling the food with delight. You finished first and waited for Heeseung to finish as well before going to wash both of their cutlery. Heeseung looked at the contents of the open boxes out of curiosity and found a camcorder. In a lucky strike, the camcorder had a functioning battery and was in good working order.

You joined him a few seconds later, flashing a bright smile. "What are you doing?"

"I found this. Was it for a class?"

"Remember a show called “Good Luck, Charlie”? Yuna and I wanted to make vlogs for our younger cousin, but we didn't do anything, and that's why it's as good as new. " Heeseung started a recording, focusing only on you.

"Well, it works wonders. You do justice to the quality of the camera with your beauty." The words flowed out of Heeseung, and it made you start to strike funny poses to hide your emotions. "Do you think it has enough memory?"

"Definitely, I think it could record for more than two hours." Heeseung stopped the recording and stood up when he noticed that it was past midnight. It was finally Tuesday.

"I'll go brush my teeth and take a shower again. Rest well." Heeseung wrapped your arm in a gentle squeeze before he stepped out of the room.

You pulled your nightwear out of your drawer and headed to the bathroom, not forgetting your cell phone and even taking the camcorder with you without noticing it. You felt a little silly noticing that you had taken the camcorder with you and didn't even bother to return it. As you prepared the bathtub, you chose your favorite music and let the warm water run over your body once you were immersed in it, relaxing. The shampoo washed your hair as you enjoyed a small scalp massage. Then, you lathered your entire body to remove the sand and sunscreen that had adhered to your skin under the scorching sun.

A knock on the bathroom door startled you, and since you already knew who the culprit was, you opened the door and caught Heeseung's eye with a raised toothbrush. Heeseung looked surprised; he may have already seen you completely naked yesterday, but now you were pouring water, and your relaxed face made his thoughts fly to places they shouldn't be. 

"Hey, do you have… Why did you bring the camcorder in?" The curious tone was very obvious in his words, and you made a gesture to underplay the importance of the matter. Heeseung shook his head to focus on what he came in for. "Do you have any toothpaste? I'm out of mine."

"Come in and wash up if you want; I'm almost done showering anyway." You opened the door a little wider, allowing Heeseung to enter the bathroom. As you headed back to the shower, he planted himself in front of the sink. The mirror in front of him was fogged up, and his hand unconsciously moved to wipe it clean. The sight of you running your hands through your hair and body mesmerized Heeseung almost instantly. He brushed his teeth quickly, and as he was about to grab the towel lying beside him to dry himself, his eyes fell on the camcorder.

An idea popped into his mind as he opened the camcorder. The notion of having a memory of the two of them sharing a moment in this remote place caused a wave of excitement to run through his entire body.

"Can I join you in the shower?" The words escaped Heeseung's lips and hung in the air, heavy with palpable tension. The room was steamy, and the sound of your shower created an intimate atmosphere.

Time seemed to halt as they both awaited your response—a second that stretched like an eternity. Heeseung's heart pounded in his chest as he held the camcorder, waiting, wishing she would accept.

"Yes, you can, Heeseung." You surprised yourself with the affirmative answer you let out. Heeseung turned around, finding himself face-to-face with you, creating eye contact immediately, without even breaking it for a second, and especially when he removed the shirt from his body. You couldn't help but smile as you noticed the purple stains on the opposite body scattered as the garment came off the boy's body, and Heeseung indeed did the same; hickeys staining your breasts and part of your nipples were seen with admiration thanks to the water that made them stand out.

The atmosphere in the small bathroom room became even more heated with the intimacy of the two; the passion and desire in Heeseung's eyes were unmistakable. You stepped out of the tub straight toward the boy, and your hands stopped at Heeseung's warm body, creating a temperature contrast with the slightest touch. Your hands traveled from his chest to the nape of his neck, and Heeseung took you by surprise as he kissed your cheek. Heeseung's fingers stopped at your waist tentatively, with his thumbs making circles on your skin, sliding easily.

You responded with a brief kiss on Heeseung's lips, a gesture that made him embrace you fully. They indulged in the delight of emotions surging between them, as if the day before they hadn't even touched each other and had longed for this day like someone who hasn't eaten in years.

Your fingers slid down toward the elastic of the garments that still covered Heeseung's body, tugging down gently. A sigh escaped your lips and got lost on the boy's lips, sealing their complicity in that intimate and passionate moment. Heeseung kicked his legs slightly to remove his clothes and took you in his arms. The water still falling into the empty tub made you push him right under the stream of water, but the boy pulled you with him to dive into another passionate kiss under the water.

Heeseung's hands went down to your bottom, gently kneading your skin with his lips and descending to the other's neck. Heeseung's erection became more evident as the seconds passed while he relished in your caresses and the sighs that came out of you. You moved back a few steps until your back hit the wall, your leg moving to Heeseung's hip, causing both intimacies to come into contact. He slowly swayed his hips in a back and forth motion without fully entering into you with the intention of lubricating himself with the fluids that were already flowing out of your intimacy.

You watched the mirror in front of you with your eyes narrowed in pleasure, which was only increasing. Heeseung's back was in your full view, and you ran your hands over it. As you moved down, the video recorder caught your attention, your eyes focusing on the boy's back and the device. With some reluctance, you pulled Heeseung's body away from yours until, walking straight to the camera, you reached for the power button, turning the small screen to watch as the lens was focusing on your ravaged neck and Heeseung stepping out of the tub to come towards you. You mashed the record button and turned to see it start. Heeseung raised one of his eyebrows playfully until you devoured his lips once more.

"A little souvenir? " You nodded as you heard Heeseung's shaken voice after the kiss, and you gave a little jump as you felt Heeseung's palm land on your ass. "Then I'll make it unforgettable."

Heeseung grabbed the camera, and they stepped back into the shower. He left the camera in the corner of the tub as they let the stream of water flow their way in the midst of the kiss the two shared, your tongue being bitten by the mischievous boy, and Heeseung's fingers tangling in your hair. Just as it happened the day before, You dropped to your knees, the water covering your hips, your lips going straight to the boy's balls, making Heeseung close his eyes in satisfaction. Your right palm caught his erection perfectly at a speed he couldn't care less about; the minutes ticked by, and with them went the boy's moans. Your tongue now ran all over his shaft, and before you continued, Heeseung's hand was exchanged for yours.

His free hand went to the camera until he could see you through it with both hands pleasuring your breasts and his hand with his member, providing gentle caresses. His index finger and thumb took your chin to draw you close, and he gently touched your reddish lips with the tip of his swollen erection to get you to open them. Heeseung wouldn't lie about it, but you were almost one hundred percent sure that you could be the only person to make hi, cum with an oral like a virgin. You loved giving oral; it made your chest swell with pride, and for you to have the same guy who everyone said wouldn't even flinch at oral swoon at your touch was another level of satisfaction.

"God, don't stop." You had no such intentions. Now,  with his eyes fixed on the lens, you moved your head up and down quickly. Heeseung watched the screen and had to bite his lower lip as he felt his dick growing bigger in your mouth as a clear sign of his future climax. With a few suckers and feeling the boy's semen touching your mouth walls, you opened your mouth, leaving the seed free on your face and part of your tongue. Heeseung positioned the camera so that the tub could be seen with them and kissed you, your fluids mixed with his. As grotesque as it sounds, the boy loved it, especially when he bit your lip and you moaned, letting your tongue show his essence still on your tongue.

They both stood up again, and it was Heeseung's turn to kneel down. His nose collided with your clitoral area, and the palms of his hands went straight to your knees, rubbing a little after your previous action. Your hands went to the boy's hair, unconsciously tugging on it slightly as you felt his lips stop at your vaginal lips in a chaste kiss. Now it was you who couldn't take your eyes off the boy's big eyes, from which you could notice the mischief in them and the intentions he had.

"Are you all right?" you nodded, blushing, getting a sly smile to show on the boy's face at the sight. He squeezed your legs, massaging your thighs to his liking as he moved up to your buttocks, pulling you even closer to his face. It didn't take long for Heeseung to give little licks on that sweet little button of yours and for his fingers to collect the natural lubricant he was already doing all over your intimacy for the purpose of a well-deserved pre-game. The delight on your face made Heeseung know he was doing it right. The volume of your voice increased as Heeseung's tongue created a variety of circles on your clitoral area and his fingers finally entered to prepare you. Your walls were enclosed so that Heeseung couldn't help but sigh in delight, causing a small sensation to run through you.

Your hips began to move slightly, which was not unnoticed by Heeseung, who, with his free hand, gave a gentle but firm squeeze on your left cheek.

"Don't move." You were surprised at the tone, but it was all the more surprising that the commanding tone made you lubricate even more and your core throb with it. Heeseung made a mental note of it and spanked you, making you jump. He paused for a moment to make your leg rest on his shoulder, and you couldn't have felt any hotter.

Both the speed of his tongue and the boy's fingers were increasing; your moans were more and more noticeable, and you had to put your hand over your mouth to keep your modesty, as if yesterday you had not had sex with Heeseung (and Sunghoon as a spectator) on the balcony. Heeseung could now tell that the grip on his hair hurt, but the boy simply took it as an incentive to continue his actions. Heeseung could see your legs shaking and your body having little spasms from the wave of pleasure.

"Heeseung, God!" You let out a high moan as, in a moment, his tongue began to penetrate you and his thumb was now creating rapid movement on your swollen clitoral area, feeling liberated as you reached your climax. To Heeseung, it wasn't enough; he returned to the clitoral as fast as he could and grabbed your ass completely so that you wouldn't move.

Now you were again quivering with pleasure. As much as you tried to push Heeseung away, they both didn't want to. He gave one last suck on your clitoral area before slowly standing up. They were both the same again, lips swollen and reddish glossy with fluids, hickeys on their inner thighs, and heaving breaths; the only difference was that you looked tired, and you hated it. The tall man cupped your face gently and planted soft kisses down your neck and collarbones.

"Do you want to stop? We can do it if you want."

"I want to ride you again." Heeseung expected anything but that, yet he had no choice but to sit in the tub. Heeseung didn't realize he had moved the cover a little to keep the water in, took a seat on the tub's floor, and you stretched a little to open a drawer and take out a lubricant. You dropped the contents of it on top of Heeseung's second erection and spread it once, closing your eyes as you felt Heeseung's kisses all over your chest, lining up and sliding down until both pelvises collided in a rapid fashion because of how wet you were.

You decided to torture him a little, moving your hips in a slow circular motion. The boy's head was thrown back on its own accord, and the girl leaned down to kiss his prominent Adam's apple. Heeseung loved how your walls embraced him, surrounding him and bringing him to life, just as it was happening at that very moment, his eyes now locked on the almost nonexistent bouncing your perfect breasts made, his teeth gently catching your lower lip, and his eyes struggling not to close and not to give in to his impulse, because with those movements, he knew what you wanted.

"Want me to help you? " He didn't wait for an answer, and finally, he landed a loud spank with both palms, waking you up on top of him and massaging a little to relieve the pain. "I won't be gentle."

"Don't be" It started quickly; you still had the effect of the past orgasm, and Heeseung was fucking you with such speed while holding your hips, which was not helping at all. Now your breasts were bouncing in time with the thrusting, and one of them was caught by Heeseung, who realized that just licking your nipples while fucking you made you orgasm. 

"Heeseung…"

"What's wrong? You can't continue anymore?" Heeseung didn't stop his movements and even grabbed your jaw with slight strength so that you wouldn't stop looking at him.

"Keep going, please. Don't stop for the sake of it."

"Do I make you feel good? Do you like it? " An eager nod from you was enough for him to pull you away and position you so that your butt was in his view while you were being focused on by the camera. You moved your head precisely where you should look. "Can you be good and watch the camera until you cum?"

You nodded again, and Heeseung became even faster with his movements. Heeseung would lift your head all the way up as you dropped it through the heat waves of their intimacy, so much so that Heeseung put together a makeshift ponytail with your hair, lifting almost all of your body out of obligation. 

"Can you behave the fuck up?"

"I'm sorry, Hee, but it feels so good." Heeseung grabbed your jaw again, his thumb playing with your lower lip and reaching all the way inside your mouth. You sucked it fervently, and his free hand caught your breasts.

"Good girl, taking me whole."

"Damn it, Lee, I'm going to cum."

You felt a new knot in her lower belly, and Heeseung only needed his fingers to make you feel like a virgin. The knot is now being released as he pinched both of your nipples and played with your clitoral area simultaneously, squirting absolutely all over Heeseung's pelvis and you totally sprawled out in the tub. Heeseung watched in delight as you squirted while he felt his own release, pulling out anyway and releasing his final shots of cum on your lower back. Heeseung grabbed the camera to capture the beautiful sight and moved to your tired face.

"So precious and delicate." Your finger ran one last time over Heeseung's shaft and smeared his semen as if it were a moisturizer, licking him again and even venturing a little to lower the camera of the opposite hands to focus on Heeseung's little bit of cum dribbling down on your pussy. Heeseung sighed. "You're going to kill me one day, you fucking goddess."

© hollyoongs, 2024. please do not copy, translate or steal my story

TAGLIST: @glitterjay @lhspeachie @deobitifull @mirramirra @capri-cuntz @horijiro @sumzysworld @chokichips

↷ 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢'𝚜 note: Finally, after many things happening in my life and in my country, this blog got post it, tysm for waiting <3 ALSO, shout out to my girl @kwiwin for translating the other half, ilysm my real 🦋

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || your newest client asks you to give him a real challenge, and you’re happy to oblige.  

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 6.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut but no actual sex (lots of handjob stuff though and some brief oral m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, more cnc (because of the overstimulation), bondage, edging, impact play (riding crop), brief cock torture (she just hits him with the crop a couple times), implied “kink as trauma response” (this is gonna be a theme throughout the whole fic), forced to break a rule/doomed to fail/impossible challenge (idk how to warn for this but yeah), forced voyeurism?, thigh riding (reader rides bucky’s thigh), some degradation/dumbification, brief/implied dacryphilia, a bit of angst/feelings

new parts posted on thursdays!  join the taglist here

“Can’t,” he sighed, “can’t come again.”

He looked so painfully adorable when he begged like that, his brow glistening with sweat as he jerked under your touch.  “Aw, poor baby,” you pouted, twisting your hand when it stroked over the head of his cock, “yes you can.  I know you can.  Just gimme one more.”

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, “Mistress, please— just stop, please, I can’t… can’t take any more…”

“I know you can, sweetheart— I know you can be my good boy and keep coming for me.  Tell me your color.”

“Yellow,” he whispered.

“Think you’re almost done?” you pressed, smiling when he nodded breathlessly.  “Yeah, there’s my good boy— gonna come again for your Mistress?”

“Yes,” he breathed, baring his teeth as his hips bucked wildly to try to avoid further sensation, “y-yes, one more, just one more, I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come, just don’t stop… fuck, it hurts.”

“I know, but you’re being so good for me,” you purred.  “You like it when I milk your pretty cock, don’t you?  Even though it hurts?”

He winced but nodded.  “C-coming, Mistress, fuck, I’m coming…!”

Since it was his fifth of the evening, he could only give you one thick drop of come that gathered at his slit before running down over your hand which finally slowed to a stop.

You both sighed with relief as you pulled your hand away and leaned back, admiring how beautiful he looked as he caught his breath, covered in come and sweat.

"Good job," you praised with a chuckle, "I hope I didn't go too hard on you."

"N-no, that was… that was really good," he sighed, slumping back onto the bed.  "Can I use your shower before I go?"

"Yeah, totally," you nodded.

After a long pause, you gave him a confused look.  

"I thought you were gonna shower?" you reminded him.

"Oh… I guess I have to get up for that," he sighed, making you laugh.

"Rest a bit longer.  You've had a… challenging afternoon."

He nodded a little and you got up from the bed to go wash your hands and freshen up a little, smiling at your own appearance in the mirror— sometimes you forgot how you looked when you did this, but there was an undeniable aura of power around you… especially after a session like that.

This was only your third week with James, and already the dynamic felt so natural between you— and yet, so fresh compared to your other clients.  Normally it took longer for a newbie to get comfortable with you, yet most of them had had multiple doms before and here was James, totally inexperienced and taking it all like a champ.  There was an air of innocence about him, you figured, in contrast to this undeniable strength and intensity that you caught glimpses of from time to time.

Sometimes, it felt like he was chasing an innocence he lost a long time ago.  Whatever it was that drew him to this, you were happy to help him along the way.

It was probably a little dangerous to enjoy sessions with a client so much; even though you often pretended that everything was about your pleasure and not theirs, obviously since they were the paying customer it was the complete opposite in reality.  But there was an equity to the dynamic with you and Bucky, he served you with a real dedication rather than for his own gain.  And you, meanwhile, had rediscovered the fun in this career that had originally drawn you to it in the first place.  It was less like a science now, more like an art— you let yourself go with your instincts and do whatever felt right in the moment, and both of you benefitted for it.  

“Come on, get up and clean yourself off,” you encouraged— gently, of course— as you left the bathroom and returned to find James laying sprawled out on the bed.

“I know you said falling asleep here was a one-time courtesy,” he remembered with a smile, “but I could use it now a lot more than I needed it then.”

Honestly, you didn’t see him smile that often.  It was pleasant; you hoped to see it again.  He did get up, though, and take the washcloth you handed him to wipe off the come that had gotten all over him.  “What are you thinking for next week?” you asked as you leaned against the wall.  “Any special requests?”

“We can discuss all that over the phone,” he decided.  You still didn’t understand fully why he didn’t like to discuss future scenes in person; it was like he wanted the in-person interactions to be as ‘in character’ (if you will) as possible.

“Alright, just keep me updated,” you requested with a shrug.

You got changed while he took his shower, and when he emerged to the living room he seemed surprised to see you sitting on your own couch.  After a moment, you realized it was the fact that you were in normal clothes that threw him off.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before… or pants of any kind.”

You looked down at your outfit with a smile, glad it was at least still professional and not sweats and a t-shirt or something.  “Yeah, I guess you haven’t.  First time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, had a lot of first times with you,” he chuckled.  “Most significantly less mundane than this.”

A brief silence filled the room but it wasn’t exactly awkward, at least not for you.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” he decided as he grabbed his jacket from your chair and slipped it on.  You’d been spending most of this session trying to forget how good he looked in the leather motorcycle cut, so that was out the window now as you tried to keep from visibly biting your lip while he walked towards the door.

Damn, he was fine.  But there were more pressing matters at hand.  Like preparing yourself and your apartment for your next appointment.  This guy wanted to get slapped around until he cried… shouldn't be too difficult, but your arms would probably be sore tomorrow.

Opposite of last week, I really want you to edge me tonight, as long as possible.

Don't go easy on me, make me hold it in.  I need a challenge this week.

-J

It was odd how emails from James made your week.

He seemed to prefer to communicate his desire with you this way; maybe it was easier for him, and you couldn’t really blame him for that.  The nice part was that you didn’t have to temper your reactions, if you had any, since you were always alone when you got his messages.  You might be old hat at it now, but you could remember a time that you had to hide a grimace when a client told you to your face what he wanted.  Not that you would shame them for it or anything (unless, you know, they paid you to), but you didn’t enjoy everything you did with these men.

Did you enjoy everything you did with James?  Yes, but you were pretending not to— for your own sake.

You dressed a bit differently for today’s session, more conservatively… not that it was especially conservative by any other person’s standards.  But it left your legs and chest covered, somewhat in the spirit of ‘mean corporate businesswoman’ aesthetically.  For some reason you felt like using a riding crop required wearing pants.

James certainly didn’t seem to mind, with the way he nervously cleared his throat after you opened the door.

“Good to see you again,” you greeted formally, “please, come in.”

He stepped past you, still looking at you and not at what was in front of him, meaning he ended up slamming himself gut-first into your kitchen island.

“Oh!  Are you alright?” you smiled when you noticed. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, rubbing his stomach for a second but recovering quickly.  “I told you I can take a lot of pain,” he joked.

“Well, we’re going to put that to the test today,” you promised cryptically.  “You must’ve seen the crop on the table.”

He nodded again.  “Yeah....”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly.

“Then let’s get you tied up, James.”

Straddling his lap, you realized the rope was a bit too tight when you saw it digging into his skin; maybe he wouldn’t mind that, but you did, so you pushed the rope back through itself to loosen it slightly.

“How long did it take you to learn all these knots?” he asked casually, watching your fingers nimbly work the ropes around his wrists.

“Not too long,” you shrugged, “I’ve only been doing this a few years… but I knew them before that.”

“Boating school?  Boy Scouts?” he suggested jokingly.

“Just a hobby,” you decided, dodging the covert question about your past.  “Were you a Boy Scout?”

“Do I look like a Boy Scout?” he countered with a scoff.

“Not anymore,” you shrugged, “but I bet you did once.  You’re sorta innocent, you know.”

He swallowed dryly, and you raised an eyebrow as you glanced from the knot you were tightening to his face, which looked a bit flustered.  “R-really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, leaning back on your heels to look at him straight-on.  “Are you surprised to hear that?”

He nodded quickly, and you laughed.

“Aw, you thought you were so kinky, huh?  So dirty,” you purred, running your hand up his leg until he tugged slightly on the newly-tied ropes— a subtle way to get him to test them for you.  “But you’re really not.  You’re just my sweet, innocent boy.”

He whined— really, properly whined— and you dug your nails into his skin until he hissed instead.

“I don’t think you believe me,” you noticed, leaning back to reach for the crop behind you.  “You think you’re so filthy and perverted, right?  Are you a pervert, James?”

“Yes,” he breathed, shivering as you let the crop slide gently over his skin— his abs, his hips, his legs which were already quivering so adorably.  “Yes, Mistress.”

“And how’s that?”

“I think about… getting hurt,” he admitted weakly, “when I touch myself.  And I touch myself all the fucking time.”

“Yeah?  How many times a day do you stroke that pretty cock, James?”

“Twice every morning,” he blurted out, “after that it depends.”

You didn’t let yourself show your surprise at that number.  “Depends on what?”

When he hesitated, you hit him sharply on the thigh and he winced.  “Depends on what I… what I end up thinking about.  Sometimes… sometimes something reminds me, and I have to get off.”

Something told you not to press on what it was that he needed to be reminded of, and why it made him want to jerk off so bad.  Something told you he wasn’t ready to tell that story yet.  “Did you touch yourself today already?” you asked instead.

“No, no ma’am,” he shook his head, voice wavering as you brushed the crop over his chest, “it’s… it’s different with you.”

“Yeah, I bet it is,” you smirked, hitting him on the stomach quickly.  “I bet you’re finally satisfied, right?  Nothing’s ever worked for you before.”

“Yes,” he moaned, crying out slightly when you hit him on the arm (flesh— you were too afraid what sound the metal one would make) much harder than before.  “The nights I see you, I… I can sleep.”

“You sleep better?”

“No, I just… sleep.”

You tried not to react to that, moving to a new question instead.  “Do you want me to hit you again?  Or do you want me to stroke your cock for you?”

An obvious choice to some, surely, but he seemed to really struggle with it.

“Which one do you think you deserve?” you asked instead.

“Hit me more,” he decided.

Instantly, you struck him once on the face and again on the shoulder, then moved down to his legs for three in a row in spite of the way his body jerked away instinctively.  

“Fuck,” he sobbed, “don’t stop— I need more…”

You focused on his legs, on the inside of his thigh where he seemed the most sensitive.  His twisted joy turned to true fear, though, when you brushed the end of the crop over his balls.  “Do you want me to hit you here?” you challenged.

“I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Let’s make a deal, James,” you offered, “wherever I hit you, I’m gonna kiss it to make it better.”

“Then hit me wherever you want,” he nodded, almost smiling at you.  He cried through his teeth when you whipped his shaft with the crop— not especially hard, in fact quite delicately, though the second was harder.  And the third, though not much more aggressive, was right on the sensitive tip; his eyes shot open and his hips jerked away.

“So good, such a good boy,” you whispered proudly, putting the crop aside to lean in and kiss his cheek where you’d hit him before, his shoulder, his arm.

You worked your way down carefully as he breathed heavily beneath you, whimpering slightly when you kissed his thighs and notably ignored his flexing, leaking cock.  “Please,” he whimpered.

“Shh, be patient,” you soothed, “be my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” he repeated, trying to restrain himself but already bucking up into the air again, “fuck, wanna be your good boy, Mistress.”

“Are you already close, pet, just from getting hurt?” you asked in a faux pout.  “You’re not gonna come if I give your pretty cock some kisses, right?”

“I— I won’t come,” he promised.  “Not until I get permission.”

“Baby, it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time before you get permission,” you promised with a toothy grin.  “Look down at me, honey, I want you to see this.”

He hesitated for a second but obeyed, looking down at you with an expression that was full of awe as you gripped his cock and gave gentle, teasing kisses up his shaft.  It bobbed in your hands with each one, and he let out the most beautiful sigh when you kissed the tip carefully.

A wide lick made him jerk beneath you.  “F-Fuck,” he stammered.

“You said you wouldn’t come,” you reminded him.  “Can I keep going?  Are you gonna be a good boy?”

“Don’t stop, please,” he breathed, “I’ll be good.”

Taking the head between your lips, you suckled gently as he shivered and moaned.  You weren’t sure you’d ever been with anybody— on or off the clock— who was so sensitive.  And you loved it, honestly; who could resist those precious noises he made?

As much as part of you wanted to go nuts and really push him to the edge, you tried to be gentle and careful so as not to make it impossible for him to hold back.  But even then, when you gently grasped his balls in one of your hands and squeezed them, he apparently couldn’t take anymore.

"S-stop," he hissed, and you pulled back, sitting up.

"You were close?" you asked, and he nodded a little.  "Oh, what a good boy."

He whimpered briefly.  "Yes, your good boy, Mistress…"

Your fingers trailed delicately up the underside of his cock, making him shiver violently.  "I know you want to come, but you want to be good even more.  You're such a sweet little pet."

It seemed like the praises did more to keep him on the edge than the touches, so you kept both going; wrapping your fingers around the ridge of his head, you gave the most gentle and subtle strokes, and leaned in to whisper against his ear.

“Is this why you wanted me to edge you today, James?  So you could show me how good you can be?” 

“I-I don’t know,” he blurted out, rocking his hips as best he could while restrained, “I just wanted to… I just wanted you to make me wait.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” you laughed slightly, “I can make you wait all day.  Is that what you want?”

“No, that’s— not that long, I can’t wait that long,” he shuddered.

“Mm, that sounds like your problem, not mine,” you smirked.  “Not sure why I asked what you want, honestly… cause I don’t fucking care.”

His choked-out whine was too perfect to ignore.

“Oh, what a pathetic little moan that was, poor baby,” you cooed mockingly, “are you regretting it now?  You’re probably wondering what you got yourself into, ‘cause you’re worried Mistress is never gonna let you come.”

“No, I don’t regret it,” he denied weakly, “whatever you want— do whatever you want to me, just… give me what I deserve, please.”

You stopped touching him completely and he straight-up sobbed.  “You don’t deserve anything from me, James.  You don’t deserve me at all.”

He told you before that he liked when you rapidly cycled between soft and mean.  Kept him on his toes, apparently.  Honestly, you felt a little guilty talking to him that way sometimes, but his cock leaking enough pre-cum to soak the bedsheets beneath him was a sign you were doing something right.  “I know!” he cried.  “I know, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you.  I fucking need you, Mistress, please— you know I’ll do anything.”

“I’m feeling generous today,” you shrugged, “so I won’t ask you for much.  Just beg me a little more.”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he rushed, “touch me.  Anywhere, whatever you want, I just need to feel you.  I know I… fuck, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me try to— to earn it.  Please.”

You knew if he had it his way, he wouldn’t do much talking at all.  But you couldn’t just let him have it his way, now could you?  It was better to make him just the right amount of nervous, just the slightest hair uncomfortable, by making him talk to you.  And, of course, you liked the way his deep and rough voice got all whiny and needy like this.

One finger under his chin guided him to look up at you, those pretty blue eyes watery and sparkling and wide with misplaced innocence.

“Tell me who you belong to, James,” you instructed darkly.

“You, Mistress,” he whispered, “I’m yours, I— oh fuck…”

Unshockingly, he was reduced to only moans again when you started stroking his cock, the slick precum making every movement smoother.  “All mine, huh?  My little toy?” you confirmed, but he could only nod and swallow thickly.

You sped up quickly, getting faster and faster until you were really, properly jerking him off and he was biting hard on his lip.  Just when he seemed to really fall into it, get almost comfortable, you had to stop.

"Oh, fuck—" he gasped, bucking his hips up to try to chase your hand when you pulled away, but it was no use with him tied up.  You watched his cock bob in the air and smiled.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” you smirked.

Shaking his head, you tilted yours to look at him, reaching up to trace your fingers over his chest.  

“Don’t lie, baby, you thought I was gonna let you come, didn’t you?  You’re so sweet, James, and so, so stupid.”

He gasped, and for a second you thought you might’ve gone too far, but it shifted to a moan quickly and you realized he was having the time of his life.

“Just my dumb, brainless little toy,” you continued with a snarl, watching him tug at the ropes as his eyes fluttered shut.  “It’s okay, James, it’s okay… you don’t need to think, I don’t want your mind.  It’s useless.  I want this pretty cock, that’s all I want from you.”

“It’s all yours, Mistress,” he promised, cheeks burning bright red and eyes forced shut.  “All of it, I swear.”

“I know,” you cooed, holding his face gently to soothe him a bit.  But then your other hand wrapped around his cock and he was anything but soothed.  “Shh, shh, don’t make any sounds, you’re just a toy and toys need to stay quiet.”

You missed his noises, actually, but he looked so cute biting his lip and struggling to suppress them.  His cock was so swollen in your hand that you honestly wondered if it was somehow getting bigger.  Was that even possible?  Your mouth was watering regardless.

“I’m gonna give you a little break,” you promised gently, “but I’ll be honest, pretty boy… I don’t think you’re gonna like it one bit.”

The look he gave you beautifully balanced fear with anticipation, and you stopped stroking him to reach over towards the bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator.

“Your Mistress is feeling a little.... self-indulgent today,” you winked.  “And since I, unlike you, don’t need to hold myself back from coming, I think I might as well get myself off if I want to.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, watching you closely as you stood up off the bed and started to carefully undress yourself.  It was a lot more fun to get naked when you were wearing something that didn’t actually show much skin— the button-up seemed to really get him going, his tongue mindlessly darting out to lick his lips as you opened one button at a time.

Once it was off your shoulders and on the floor, and he could see the almost-transparent bra you had on, you moved to opening your trousers as well.  Just to be mean, you faced the other way as you pushed them down over your ass; you heard his breath catch and you smirked to yourself, spinning to face him again in just the matching, dark red bra and panty set.

“What do you think, do you like this better than the black ones?” you asked coyly.

“I like you naked better than both,” he answered, and you grinned.

“I’m gonna let that backtalk slide just once because it’s not worth my time to go over there and slap you for it,” you decided.  “But don’t test me, James.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered dutifully, sounding a bit out of breath as he watched you climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself carefully.

You faced him straight-on and laid your legs over his, meaning your lace-covered pussy was in full view and only inches from his leaking cock— the damn thing looked sore by now, purple at the tip and just as desperate for attention as the rest of him.

When you pulled the fabric aside to show him your cunt, he hissed and looked away.

“Look at me, James, keep your eyes open,” you demanded, seeing how totally wrecked he looked when he turned his head back to you and stared down at your body with half-lidded eyes.  “Look at how fucking soaked my pussy is.  You remember how it feels to be inside it, don’t you?”

He swallowed, sighed, and finally (just barely) nodded.

“You remember how hot and wet and tight it is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he choked.

“Well, that memory’s all you’ve got to work with, sweet boy, because I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you fuck this pussy again.”

He really, properly sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and those arms flexed against the ropes defiantly.  “N-no, please—” 

“I’m gonna make myself come with this,” you promised, interrupting him as you grabbed the vibe, “and I want you to remember how it feels when I come around you, okay?  

Turning it on, you wasted no time pressing it to your clit, moving the end of the toy in slow circles and keeping a close eye on him as he watched you.  Your intention had always been to give him a show, but the embarrassing thing was how little of it was an act.  Ironically, even though you’d been edging him this whole time, having to touch him that way without any pleasure for yourself was almost as torturous.  You’d soaked through your panties by the time you had him tied up, to be totally honest.  So, giving into it and letting yourself feel good was a breeze.

“Think about when I was riding you, James,” you instructed, your own voice clearly affected by your pleasure now.  “Think about how good it would feel if I let you come inside me.”

“Oh, god,” he cried, leaning his head back.

“Think about my pussy milking every fucking drop of come out of you.  You know I wouldn’t let you stop until I was completely full of your come, I bet you’d like that.  I bet you’d like to eat your come out of me, you sick little pervert.”

“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the ropes harder now— for a second you thought he might really break them and jump you.  And for a second, you knew you’d let him.  It made your walls clench as you imagined facing the consequences of driving a man to the brink of insanity until he couldn’t help but fuck you like an animal.  It was a good thing he didn’t see you bite your lip as you imagined that.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” you taunted.  

“God, don’t tell me,” he sighed through his teeth, but obviously you ignored him.

“I’m thinking about what a good boy you are for me,” you cooed, your hips starting to rock up against where you held the end of the vibrator; you pressed it down harder onto your clit and moaned instantly.  “Yeah, I’m thinking about how pretty you look when you’re all desperate and needy and fucking pathetic—”

“Oh—” he choked.

“My dumb litlte whore, that’s all you are, James,” you groaned.  “I know you wish you could touch me, it’s all you can think about, right?  That pretty head of yours would be completely empty if it weren’t for thoughts of me and how badly you want me.  Right?”

“Yes,” he whispered huskily.

A shiver ran up your spine when the vibrator bumped into a more sensitive part of you, and you did it again and again until you thought you might lose it a bit faster than you meant to.  “This toy feels really good,” you informed him in a purr, gasping when you slipped the vibrating body of it into your pussy, “but it doesn’t feel as good inside me as you do.”

His eyes fell shut but he still winced a bit every time you made a sound; he couldn’t run from this, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh James,” you moaned loudly, fucking yourself with the vibe for a moment before you pulled it back out to focus even harder on your clit, “I’m gonna come.  I’m so, so close… I can feel it getting stronger, I think I might make a mess on these sheets.  And the only way I’m ever gonna let you come is if you watch me do it.  So open your fucking eyes.”

He blinked quickly as he opened them, gaze scanning your whole body before settling on your cunt; you were sure he could see it pulsing as you got closer and closer, you knew he was imagining how it would feel.  You only spared a brief glimpse at his cock, bobbing between his legs, and wished you could just slip it in you now and come while it stretched you out. 

But that wasn’t what he was here for, sadly, and you were sure you were the only being truly denied of your desires, despite how it probably seemed from the outside.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, numbness starting to tingle in your legs as your orgasm built up quicker than even you expected.  “I’m coming— James, I’m coming, oh, fuck… right there— yes!”

A gush of heat warmed your cunt at the same time that shocks ran up your spine and down your limbs; you could feel your legs shaking, and you knew he could, too.  

It got so intense for a second that you had to pull the vibrator away, though you didn’t stop coming until a few moments later, eyes falling shut without you meaning for them to.

You actually laughed a bit, breathlessly, as you turned the vibe off and set it aside, although you weren’t sure exactly what was supposed to be funny about this per se.  When you opened your eyes, you saw James looking down and looking positively defeated.  But he looked tense, too, and you sat up on your wobbly legs to get closer to his face.  

“Relax, James,” you told him firmly as you examined him.

“I— I can’t,” he whispered. 

“Why not?”

“I’ll come.”

Nothing could fight your wide grin anymore, not when you heard that.  “Oh, baby… are you about to come without even being touched?  Is that how much you liked watching Mistress come?”

He nodded, ever so slightly, and you laughed.  Not quite a mocking laugh, moreso impressed.  Prideful, even.  You leaned in to give a wet kiss to his neck, licking over his pulse as he shivered violently.

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered against his skin.  He whined and you cooed soothingly right away, “oh I know, I know.  It’s so unfair, isn’t it?  Mistress gets to come and you don’t…”

“Please,” he stammered, “I’m so close, let me come, please.”

“But I don’t wanna see you come, baby— I wanna see you cry.”

You started to slide your hand down his chest and he jumped up to attention as he tried to squirm away.  “No, please, don’t— don’t touch my cock, not if I can’t come.”

“You can hold it in, can’t you?” you pouted.

“No, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobbed, watching fearfully as your hand moved down to his stomach and over his hips.  

“But I thought you were my good boy,” you frowned, suddenly wrapping your hand tight around his cock as he choked on a gasp.

“Mistress!” he sobbed.  “Please, don’t—  don’t move your hand, I’ll come.”

"Never fucking tell me what to do," you instructed firmly, just barely stroking as he cried weakly.  "I'm gonna touch you however I want and you're not gonna come because you're my good boy, right?"

"No, Mistress, I can't stop it, I'm gonna come— stop, please…"

"You'd better not fucking come," you hissed through your teeth, speeding up your movements and watching his eyes shoot wide open, "you'd better hold it in until I'm done with you."

"I'm trying— please slow down, can't take it—"

You shook your head, tutting disapprovingly.  "No, baby, I tell you what you can take."

"Oh— oh god, Mistress, please, please stop, please, I c-can't— fuck!"

You pulled your hand away the second his cock started to flex but it was too late: come was shooting from his swollen tip and painting his chest and stomach.  You didn't even wait until he was done to backhand him across the face.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled.  "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it…"

You softened slightly when you heard his broken voice, saw the desperation and fear on his face— it was real, more real than the fake ‘no’s and the encouraging pleas for mercy.  "Baby, it's okay, you tried so hard," you soothed instantly.

Hope filled his eyes just as much as tears as he looked up at you.  "Am I still your good boy?"

"Always," you smiled, caressing his face where it was already turning red from your slap.  

You reached down and caressed his cock with the back of your fingers, watching it flex weakly.  

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

His lip twitched, almost like a wince.  “Do we… do we have to stop?”

You quickly glanced at the clock.  “Um, no,” you mumbled, “we still have time.  Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna watch you come again…” he admitted softly.  “Is… is that okay?”

Although you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, you were still surprised.  “Yeah, sure.”

“But… but closer this time,” he added, “not so far away.”

You were literally laying on top of him, how did that count as far away? 

“I wanna see your face,” he clarified.

“Okay,” you nodded, deciding to indulge him.  It was sort of like aftercare, except that this wasn’t exactly the ‘after’ part yet.

On your knees beside where he was leaning back against the headboard, you slipped your hand down into the lace panties again, finding your clit still swollen but not too sensitive.  A little gasp fell from your lips when you touched it, rubbing it carefully with two fingers while he looked up at your face.  

You felt slightly exposed when he watched you this close, and you didn’t know where to look to avoid direct eye contact.  Looking at his lips was just a little too tempting, so that wouldn’t work.

“My hands are a little tired,” you explained, “they might cramp up.  Maybe I could use your thigh…”

“O-okay,” he nodded, and you removed your fingers from your panties to sit down on the thick muscle of his leg.  You felt him tense up under you slightly, and you carefully began to rock your hips until your clit rubbed just right against the inside of your underwear.  Surely he could feel how wet you were— actually, you both could hear it, almost a wet clicking-like noise as the soaked lace slid against your skin.

The dynamic shifted slightly, not that you minded it, as he watched you ride him carefully.  Just as he couldn’t hide much from you when he was naked and tied up and baring his soul to you in the kinkiest way possible, you couldn’t hide your pleasure from him when he was looking at your face so up-close.  You let your hands carefully roam his body, narrowly avoiding the trails of cooling come he’d left on his stomach and chest, until you found his strong shoulders and held onto them for balance.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, biting your lip as your sore clit throbbed against his hard, muscular thigh.  

“Will you… could you kiss me?” he requested quietly, and your heart broke a little bit.  You shook your head, and he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll kiss you here,” you offered instead, whispering against his skin before you pressed your lips to his forehead, then his cheek, then his jaw.  “Is that better, James?”

“It helps,” he agreed in a sigh.  

“I’m close,” you warned quietly, pressing your cheek to his and weaving one hand into his hair.  “I’m gonna come again, on your thigh.”

“Let me touch you,” he begged, “just a little, please…”

You nodded, about to reach forward to untie one of his hands, but he snapped the ropes and you had totally forgotten he could do that.  He quickly ran his touch all over your body, calloused hands and bound wrists in stark contrast to your soft skin.  The metal one was a little cold but it didn’t bother you; the other was almost too hot, and it was like being warmed and cooled all at once.

He ran his fingers down your spine, he gripped one of your shoulders, he rubbed your legs: he did everything he must have been wishing he could do this whole time, even gasping as he ran one hand up your chest and over a cup of your bra.  Just as you sensed that he was about to ask if he could touch you there, you nodded and felt his metal hand tug down the red lace and grab your breast— thankfully not very hard, though he did give your nipple a quick pinch which made you gasp.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he finally settled his hands on holding your hips, just tight enough to slightly guide your movements as you rocked faster and more desperately.  “Please come,” he begged weakly, “Mistress, please… use me.”

It sort of hit you all at once then, like a punch to the gut.  Except, you know, a lot more fun than getting punched in the gut.

“James,” you gasped, legs quivering where they straddled his as a new patch of slick soaked the lace (and presumably his thigh as well).  He held you tight, kept you moving through it while your fingers tangled in his hair and your mouth fell slack for another, louder moan.

The way his lips moved over your skin, laving your collarbones and pulse point and the innermost corner of your jaw, was positively worshipful; reverent.  “Mistress,” he whispered, almost sounding like praise but tinted with awe.  Your movements slowed down to a stop and the two of you breathed a sigh together, unintentionally.  “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“What for?” you asked, blinking quickly and looking down at him, coming back to reality (though you weren’t quite sure where else it was that you had just been).

“I dunno, everything,” he decided.

“Don’t thank me,” you smiled.  “Keep paying me, though.”

He laughed a little, glancing away.  “Yeah, and I’ll pay you back for these ropes… sorry."

"No, hey, don't be sorry," you dismissed, getting up off of his leg and standing up to go grab a towel for him.  "I'm just sorry we still haven't found anything strong enough to hold you."

"It's fine, they're strong enough to make me stop myself when I want to do something I shouldn't, that's all that really matters."

You nodded to yourself as you dampened the towel and came back to wipe him off.

"I can do that for myself," he reminded you, sounding a bit embarrassed, but you thought it was sweet. 

“You just focus on getting those ropes off of yourself,” you decided with a little smile.

[huenjin]

and they were roommates.

summary — who would have thought that a very naked sight of your best friend and a torn shower curtain in the rainiest of weathers could start romance? or in which you start falling for your childhood best friend, lee minho, unaware that he’s always been in love with you.

pairing — lee minho x reader, ft. binsung.

genre — fluff, smut, crack | roommates!au, bff2l!au

rating — 18+

word count — 11k words.

note — smut warnings under the cut, ofc! i suck at making summary adagafga!! but but but, i promise this story is adorable, okay, minus all that smut, my lame humor and those bit of rushed parts? this took forever and i'm so sorry for all that had to wait, especially the one who requested this uwuwu. 

smut warnings — a lot of kissing, a lot of swearing, mentions of naked exposure, fingering, cunnilingus, riding/reader on top, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it), choking. there isn't a loooot of smut either, ah! so enjoy the fluff ride.

"You idiot," you scream, loud enough for your neighbours to hear. You pull out the keys that hang outside in the key hole and pull open the door. "How could you leave the keys outside, Minho?"

"I mean, what if someone stole it?" You throw your keys and Minho's into the small box on a ledge by the door. Removing your shoes, you put on the pair of your house shoes by the side and walk further into the apartment. "Or what if someone broke in? You could get killed, you dumb hoe! Or worse, our new television could get stolen."

You hear no response and just the loud sound of shower running in the bathroom hits the walls of your shared apartment. You walk to your room, passing by the common bathroom, after throwing your bag on the sofa. You talk on the way, yelling in hopes that he would hear.

"Did you walk back in the rain? There's no other reason as to why I did not see you after college. Jisung was searching for you too, Minho."

You change into a pair of shorts and black camisole, pulling your hair up and knotting it, all while your ears pick up the small humming from the bathroom. You shake your head at the fact that since it's Lee Minho in the shower, he is probably going to take his own time to come out. After all, he is the reason why your water bill is so high. 

"Yah, Lee Minho!" You walk outside and hit the door with your fists to bring at least a little of his attention towards you. "Do you want the leftovers or should I get food delivered?"

"Delivery!" he screams back, hearing the shower sounds lower and you yell back in response, "Okay," and walk back to the living room, falling back and plopping down on the comfortable rexine covered sofa. 

Your phone rings in the next minute and you are pulling it from your pocket quickly all because you are bored out of your mind. It is also because your stupid best friend from the god forbidden age of five to till this date, takes forever to get out from the shower.

It's Jisung. Not that you would have a doubt even if you had picked up without looking at the name on the screen — your friend circle is that small. It has just been you, Minho and Jisung majorly for almost three fourth of your life, the other one fourth of it with you having your parents as your best friends. Jisung had always been the annoying kid in the playground that pushed you off the swing because he wanted to play and Minho had always been the knight in shining armour in your local playground, the defender of all things right as he saved you from Jisung's frustrating taunts. 

And then your mother — oh dear, she is the reason why you are still stuck with Minho's rich arse (mostly because she thought too that this is the finest her very antisocial daughter would ever find in a man) — decides that since Lee Minho was so kind to save her poor damsel-like daughter, he might as well do it forever. Fast forward to present day, and you are still cleaning up after him. 

"Did Minho reach home?" Jisung asks as soon as you answer the call. You roll your eyes and shift your position to one that allows you to stretch your leg against the length of the sofa.

"Oh, hi, Y/N," you fake your tone, mocking Jisung's ignorance. "Did you reach home safely? Did you get caught in the rain? Oh no!" And then quickly changing it back to normalcy, "Yes, Jisung. I reached home safely. The rain did get heavy as I walked back home but nothing to worry. Did you reach home safely?"

Jisung is laughing loudly on the other end. "Sorry, Y/N," he makes a weird kissing sound and you pull your phone away from your ear. "I presume Minho's safe at home, else you would be the one to crash my phone with the endless calls in worry of his safety. Ha!"

"He got caught in the rain," you sigh. "I hope he's okay though. I would have mentioned how he was, had he just come out of that goddamn bathroom but no! It almost seems like he is rebuilding the whole bathroom." Jisung laughs so loud that you have to pull the phone away from your ear again. 

"Dude, dude, dude," Jisung calls out for you through the line.

"Yeah?" 

"You and Minho are totally like my parents fighting." 

"Do you want to get punched in your face, Han Jisung?" You sit up straight, folding your leg across each other and bending forward, your elbow digging into your thigh as your hand supports your head. 

"And my boyfriend would punch yours if you punched mine," he huffs and you know he is talking about Seo Changbin. At a good five feet and six inches, the shorter male befriended Jisung and then wooed him over in grade eleven with some weird shining universe experiment for a science project and the Han Jisung you had always known, fell for the gesture immediately. They began dating a week after, making Changbin the only other human being you willingly chose to become closer to.

"Like Minho would let that," you click your tongue and Jisung laughs again, mumbling, "How have you guys not slept with each other yet? You guys are roommates."

"I'll kill you, Han Jisung."

"Like you would." The minute Jisung taunts back, you hear a loud noise of something crashing down and the sound is from the bathroom. You jump upwards, quickly hanging up without even telling Jisung that you were leaving as you drop your phone and rush towards the bathroom, taking huge steps to reach before the door in less than a few seconds.

You slam your fist against the door, over and over again, yelling, "Yah," to draw his attention before asking, "Minho, are you okay? I'm coming in," and you pull open the door to the common bathroom. A decision you wish you had not chosen but one you had to take for his safety.

Before a very surprised you lay a very, very naked Lee Minho, groaning with his back against the cold white tiles of the bathroom, neck lifting his head above to instinctively avoid hitting the floor. His hand holds a huge piece of the shower curtain that he must have tried holding onto before falling and as the colour drains from your face, lips wide apart, staring at your naked best friend in shock who is staring back at you, it dawns upon you quickly.

You immediately slap your hand over your eyes and scream as loud as you could possibly, "Fuck, fuck. I just saw your schlong, oh my god!"

"Are you not going to look at me at all now that you saw my dick?"

Minho rolls his eyes at you as a soft groan leaves his lip while he tries to make himself more comfortable on his bed. This time, he is fully clothed, black shirt over his torso and navy blue shorts. You are sitting on a small chair by his side, Chinese herbal medicinal mix in a white ceramic bowl, a tub filled with warm water and a towel and long white bandages on the table by the bed. The Chinese herbal medicinal mix was something your mother specifically ordered you to prepare for the boy before you.

You hand him a cup of warm water first which he takes and is about to swallow it down when you look at the wooden bedpost behind him and mumble, "But I saw your womb raider." Minho chokes on the water before coughing and you quickly pat his back which leads him to cry softly in pain and you are left apologising over and over again for being reckless.

He places the cup on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he narrows his eyes at you and questions, "Womb raider? What the fuck?"

"You know, your schlong," you look away, heat rising up to your cheek. "I saw your schlong, a womb raider."

"I can't believe you call a dick that," he groans, rolling his eyes as if he has completely given up on you, "After having your womb raided enough by many womb raiders."

You look away, taking the ceramic bowl in your hand and mumbling, "None of them were long and thick enough to be called a womb raider though."

"Did you say anything, Y/N?" 

"Nothing," you yell and glare at him, cheeks still hot with the image still vivid in your head. "You can't look disappointed in me," you frown at him, "I should be disappointed. You tore the shower curtain."

"It was a mistake!" Minho gasps and tries to sit up but quickly ditches the plan when he feels the spin surge through him. You place the bowl back on the table and push yourself forward to help Minho sit up, your arms wrapped around his waist, your chest against his as you slowly pull him up. Minho explains himself, "If I didn't hold onto that, I would have gotten injured worse. I'm almost perfect now. It's just the slight—" You press your palm against his back and he seethes in pain.

"Slight pain, indeed," you scoff and finally let him rest against the bedpost. "This should do the magic though." You lift the ceramic bowl again and wave it before him, shoving the weird smelling green substance right in front of his nose. "My mother totally said it would work. She also said that you would have to be on the bed resting the whole day."

"You'll be my maid the whole day," Minho lights up, face instantly shining and you sigh, "Do I have an option? After this day though, we are going to buy shower curtains and you are going to pay for it because you tore it." You accuse him and he clicks his tongue.

"Fine."

"Remove your shirt now," you order and he looks at you, a teasing glint glistening in his eyes and he smiles, moving slightly closer.

"Why? Are you going to call my abs washboard now? That you could do laundry on them?" He purses his lips and leans forward and you push him back, his aching back hitting the bedpost again and Minho is crying with pain on the soft impact, albeit this time, you worry if it is fake. "Y/N," he cries, clamping down against his lower teeth hard, "Can you go easy on me?"

"Then stop teasing me!"

"Fine!" He huffs and looks away, "Help me out of this shirt now."

"What? Why? You put the shirt on fine. Can't you remove it on your own?" You question him, the ceramic bowl securely on your lap. Minho stares at you for the longest time ever and you stare back.

Has his eyes always been this tender? Has his skin always been this soft? Was Lee Minho always this charming and pretty to look at?

This is all because you saw his stupidly good dick, argh!

Minho finally answers, "It's harder to remove a shirt than to wear it." You shake your head and your eyes narrow to crinkled slits as you watch your best friend for a second more before placing the crucible back on the table and bending yourself forward to hold tightly the ends of his black shirt. You lift the black material up and remove it from his torso, exposing his abdomen and chest to the warm breeze in the air. 

He stares at you and you stare at him back, only till you take the white ceramic bowl again and hopefully the last time and you raise an eyebrow at him, mocking him, "Aren't you going to give me the classic Wattpad naked white male line?"

"What line?" 

He looks confused and you laugh, holding the bowl tightly, "You know, the—" You try to lower the pitch of your voice and to sound as cocky as possible, smirking, "Like what you see, baby girl?"

Minho laughs with you till he calms himself down a little, tilts his head and in the most guttural voice you have ever heard your best friend ever go, he repeats, "Like what you see, my baby girl?"

Your heart should not have sped up. Your fingers should not have tightened against the cold white crucible. You should not have pressed your thighs against each other. You should not have had your throat dried up at his very words. But it did and you are staring at Lee Minho in an angle you had never seen him. 

When did that stupid five year old boy who thought he could save the whole world grow up into this man?

"Uh, Y/N," Minho waves his hand in front of you, trying to bring your attention back. "Are you going to apply the medicine or? I mean, it's cold."

"Oh yeah," you stutter. "Yeah, yeah, I was about to. Can you turn back so that I can apply it on your back?"

"Yeah," he nods and pressing his hands into the mattress, he shifts himself, turning a one hundred and eight degrees away from you so that his back is facing yours. "This okay?"

"Yeah," you agree. You bend your arm forward to take the cloth soaked in warm water and you press it against his back. Minho bites his tongue in pain, eyes watering before he can't take it anymore and he turns back to face you. 

"Minho?"

"Can I do that thing you allowed me to do whenever I was in pain and you had to take care of me?" He asks, unsure, "Am I allowed?"

You nod, softly, smiling warmly at the man before you and you lift the chair up slightly. Minho quickly wraps his arms around your waist, his face buried into your soft chest as he edges closer to you. You place the warm cloth again on his broad back and Minho does what he has always done to combat pain.

He bites into your flesh softly, hard enough to trigger something weird within you at this age but soft enough to not cause any pain. 

Your eyes widen and your thighs tighten a bit but Minho is unaware to all this as he snuggles into your warmth, head fuzzy with the pain that throbs through his entire back. After a few minutes, you place the cloth back on the table and hold the crucible tightly. You dig your forefinger and middle finger into the green mix before applying it on his back, soft circles to calm him down and Minho lets go of your flesh, although he still continues to snuggle into you, his thick arms tightening around your frame.

"You're comfortable to hug," he mumbles as you apply the medicine all over his back, his face occasionally pressing against your breast and you gulp, reminding yourself that this is your best friend, that this is the kid you've seen in all his embarrassments. 

"Of course, I am," you laugh. "It doesn't pain that much, does it?"

"Not anymore."

"Good," and you apply another layer over the existing one. "Because if you say anything else to my mother, I swear to God, Lee Minho, I will—"

You don't complete. Minho laughs — soft, precious laughter that fills the air and engages your ears. He tilts his head to look up at you from his lower angle. You look down only to come in direct vision of his bright, glistening eyes that hold the stars behind them and his oh-so-flawless skin that you are envious of. Your heart beat escalates and you are about one hundred percent sure that Minho is aware. After all, he did have his ear against your chest in this position. 

"Fine, fine," his voice is airy and you could listen to it the whole day. "I'll tell your mother that her daughter took care of me perfectly, alright?"

"Perfect," you smile. "Now sit up straight. I need to bandage you up, just in case." Minho begrudgingly pulls back, a soft whimper leaving his lips before he huffs, folding his arms and sitting straight, looking you in the eyes and you gulp. 

"I'll be fine in a day, Y/N," Minho whines and you shake your head, mumbling, "Just in case." You turn your body to grab hold of the white roll of bandage before you beckon for him to come a little closer as you wrap the bandage over his torso, covering the medicinal herbs sticking to his body now. 

"You, in fact," you chuckle as you tighten the bandage and Minho seethes in pain at having his muscles pressed. You rub his hair affectionately before continuing, "You, Lee Minho, should be ready enough to cash out money for the shower curtain."

"Fine, fine, fine," Minho huffs only to break out into a smile as he looks at you. "We'll go as soon as I don't think I'll die if I stand up and straighten my back, okay?"

"Perfect," you laugh and pull yourself away from your best friend, clipping the bandage in the exact manner. You help him lie back against the soft mattress. You pick up the crucible and the tub of water as you stand up. 

"Y/N," Minho calls out for you and you turn, your head gliding against the joint and your eyebrows rising up in question.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he smiles, eyes closed and face so soft that you do want to hold it.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me, doofus. What would I have done had you not been there? You are my knight in shining armour now."

You laugh but your heart is furiously beating against your chest, thrumming against it so loudly that you can hear the beats. Your cheeks flush with heat and you look away, mumbling, "It's nothing," and walk away. You close the door quickly and fall against the vast wooden door finally, away from his presence and you hold the bowls close to you.

Fuck. When did your heart start beating this hard for the same man that you once knew as the stupid five year old with elephant print trunks? When did your heart start thrumming so loudly against your chest for your only best friend?

Either ways, you are doomed. Inevitably.

Jisung: baby, i think it's about time Changbin: for what? Jisung: you know, how we always said those two should probably fuck Changbin: yeah? Jisung: the sexual tension is too high. can we get it over with already and have them date already? Changbin: you've been trying this forever and you failed. Jisung: don't remind me. you're my boyfriend, support me. Changbin: fine! go, sungie!! i love you either way though.

It is exactly three days after the I-exposed-my-cock incident that Lee Minho agrees to go with you to buy the shower curtains. 

"Can't we just buy it online?" He had whined, arms folding against each other as he scrolled through his phone. You stand by the sofa, head shaking in disappointment as you reason back, frustrated, "The material," and you hit his arm. Minho winces. "The material is important. I won't compromise on that. Plus, you promised that you would come with me to buy something that you tore. Isn't that only fair?"

Minho does so. After bargaining with him for one tub full of mint chocolate ice cream that you will never understand why he loves so much. 

That is exactly how you find yourself here in this shop, shopping cart in your hand and Minho by your side.

"We are only buying the shower curtain," you tell him, staring at the half full shopping cart. "So I don't understand why we need all these."

Minho smiles sheepishly at you. He then points at the two tubs of ice cream and says, "One for you, and one for me. I even chose your favorite flavor!" He continues to point at each article and tell why he needs them very articulately and you stand there in surprise before breaking his speech.

"Fine, fine!" You push the cart ahead. "Now let's just go and get what we came here for." Minho follows you, his one hand on the shopping cart handle to keep pace with you. The two of you stop right in front of the array of curtains in different colours, some on display and some packaged and you smile, whispering under your breath, "Tada." Minho looks at you softly, at the small voice of joy that escapes your lips and he just watches you light up in fascination at something as simple as shower curtains.

Fuck, he loves your domesticity.

"Let's take this," Minho announces as he stretches his arms out to hold onto a pretty blue shower curtain. You hold it in between your fingers feeling the texture before announcing, "No."

"But why?" Minho whines, following your footsteps as you hold onto another shower curtain. 

"Because it's polythene," you frown at your best friend. Minho looks at you, confused, his eyebrows furrowing as they look at you like you have grown another pair of hands and legs.

"And so?"

"You could tear it again!"

"It happened once," he sighs, frustrated. "Once. It's not like I'm waiting to fall in the shower, tear the curtain and have you see my dick all the time, babe."

Your cheeks flush at his announcement and the tag he calls you by, your eyes looking away from his pretty face for a split second. Minho shakes his hand, taking a step forward to check a few other shower curtains out when the two of you hear a very familiar voice from behind, in the most professional manner ever.

"Sir, the one you chose is perfect. It is very durable and doesn't stain on contact with water—"

"Han Jisung?" Minho turns, the words of shock leaving his mouth almost instantly. You turn impulsively, eyes wide.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here?"

"Hey," you narrow your eyes at the other male. "I could file a report for bad customer service about now, Sungie."

He folds his arms and looks at the two of you suspiciously, "What are you guys doing here?" He raises an eyebrow at you, scoffing at you, "Like you would."

"What does it look like we're doing here, Sungie?" You bite back jokingly and Jisung laughs, gaze shifting between the two of you.

"I don't know," he runs a hand through his hair before folding his arms again, his fluorescent yellow uniform crumbling with the shift in his arms. "Is this some sort of a new way to date?"

"We aren't—" You quickly start when Minho pulls a curtain forward and breaks your sentence before you can complete as he asks Jisung, "This isn't polythene, is it?"

"Are you stupid?" Jisung frowns before he laughs. "That's clearly polythene. Minho, dude, you're a chemical engineering student. You have got to be kidding me if you can't identify polythene."

Minho doesn't pay heed to Jisung's words. You, on the other hand, stare at your best friend who walks away from you to examine more shower curtains. Did Lee Minho really ask Jisung, a literature student, whether that was polythene — What in the world?

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" Jisung snaps your attention back to the present. "Are you going to buy shower curtains today?"

"Yeah?"

"But your shower curtains were fine the last time I came home." You understand Jisung's surprise because the last time he did come home was five days back and the shower curtain was in a perfect condition. "What happened?"

You stretch your arms and point at Minho. The very culprit rolls his eyes before raising his eyebrows and sighing, voicing in the most dramatic voice you have ever heard Minho take, "Yes, Y/N. Yes, Ji. It's me. I tore the shower curtain because I fell in the shower."

"Ouch," Jisung acknowledges Minho's injury before walking past the two of you and taking a shower curtain. "Here's one. You might like this, Y/N."

"It's not PVC, Sungie."

Jisung wants to hit your head, terribly. Perhaps it's your adamance that is the reason as to why your friendship is this tight and strong but in moments like these, he likes Minho more. Minho stands by the side, arms folded and back resting against the wall as he trusts your judgement.

"Are you not going to tell her anything?"

"She handles all this at home. Give her what she wants, Ji," he laughs, fiddling with a few more shower curtains by his side. Jisung shakes his head in disappointment before mumbling, a soft frustrated groan leaving his lips as he throws his head back, "Definitely a married couple," and takes a few polyvinyl chloride made shower curtains. 

"Here," he presses his lips. "Don't blame me if the designs aren't that great. You don't get that many good designs in PVC. People go for polythene because it's more available."

"PVC doesn't tear and it's easy to clean!"

"Seconding this as a chemical engineering student," Minho chirps in from behind. You and Jisung turn to look at the man who is on his phone currently and shake your head lightly. "What?"

"He remembers his major now!" Jisung clicks his tongue. "All say, praise the Lord."

"I'm agnostic." You frown.

"More reasons for you to say it easily!"

You find a plain one in the ones he showed you and you take it. Jisung smiles finally, mumbling, "You're a frustrating customer."

"Nah," you scoff. Minho pushes himself off the wall as soon as he sees you done with the selection. "I just know what I want exactly. You, on the other hand, sweetheart," you poke his chest and Jisung chuckles. "You're a pathetic salesperson."

"Of course," he laughs the insult away. "I'm a literature student. I should be working in a publishing company as a part timer."

Minho takes the shower curtain from your hand and puts it in the cart by the side. He comes back, throwing his arm over Jisung's shoulder and frowns, "Apparently publishing companies care a lot more about who your parents are than your resume."

"It's just that publishing company," the other male looks down. "I'll try applying for another one soon."

"Do you want to grab a drink at our place tonight?"

"Can I?"

"Sure," Minho agrees. He drops his arm from Jisung's shoulder and holds the cart handle back, pushing it forward slightly. You take big strides to stand by Minho's side, also holding the handle slightly. Jisung raises his eyebrows at the two of you and with a smile that you don't think twice about, Jisung laughs.

"I'm coming over tonight."

"Sure," you throw your thumbs up at him, stretching your arm. Minho smiles softly at you, his eyes lingering a little longer at your happy figure and he feels his heart beat a little quicker at your sight. Your hair strands framing your face so beautifully, eyes shining the minute you find the exact thing you've had in your mind and your lips curving upwards in joy. 

Lee Minho finds the calmness that spring brings him every year in him all over again with you by his side.

"Bring the soju. Beer is on us!"

Jisung: binnie, binnie!! Changbin: yes, baby? Jisung: i think i have a plan. Changbin: let them be, babe. Jisung: we let them be all these years! they pinned after each other without even knowing and we had to see that painfully! Changbin: i guess you make a valid point there Jisung: is it going to rain today? Changbin: it's been raining for the last few days, sungie. it could. just because i study geography as my minor doesn't mean i can forecast weather. hey! Jisung: fine~ i'm going to get them to confess tonight 👀 Changbin: don't mess up. istg Jisung: trust me 🥺 Changbin: i do. more than ever ❤️

Jisung reaches your doorstep at sharp nine. With two bottles of soju in his hands, you see the stains of the droplets of rain falling onto his shoulder. 

It is drizzling for now and you worry if it is to rain heavily in a few minutes as the forecast mentioned. You hate the thunder. You hate how the weather changes drastically and worsens to a point that it frightens you and makes you anxious. It's a phobia you have managed to hide from everyone for fears of being treated weaker.

Jisung makes himself at home. He always has. He places the soju bottles on the kitchen countertop and Minho smiles to himself as he walks towards the point where Jisung has happily seated himself. Minho and you are on the other end of the counter while Jisung sits on the adjustable chair, swirling in it before stopping and facing you, Minho and the bottles of soju before him.

"Did it finally hit him?"

"I think?" You whisper back.

"I'm right here!" Jisung yells and you smile. Minho pulls the chair from under the counter and sits himself opposite the other male, pressing his lips together and trying to not laugh. He opens the bottle of soju after shaking it and hitting it against his elbow for a while. It clinks open, the metal hitting the glass before falling onto the table and you watch the two, as Minho pours a drink for Jisung.

He downs it in one go, letting out a loud sigh before stretching his arms and demanding a second one.

"Go easy, Sungie. You have the whole night."

"I don't," he huffs. "Now, please."

Minho pours it again before looking at you and you shake your head to indicate that you wouldn't mind a few. You grab hold of one of the empty cups on the counter before stretching your arm too. Minho laughs – a soft chuckle, so airy and light that you find yourself holding your breath for a small second there – and he pours you your drink. 

You twirl your drink, watching the liquid glide against the surface of the cup. Your best friend gets up and walks a little into the kitchen to open the fridge and grab a box of leftovers of fried chicken that you bought a few days ago. He pulls open the microwave to heat it and as he waits, he turns to look back at Jisung and asks him finally.

"Do you want me to drop a word to my uncle?"

"About?"

"He heads the Cheongsam Publication," Minho reveelas, pulling out the chicken from the microwave. He places it before the two of you and almost like you and Jisung were zoomed in, in an American sitcom, both of you gasp dramatically.

"Am I really your best friend?" Jisung yells and you narrow your eyes at Minho. Faking tears in his eyes, he persists in questioning,  "Do I not matter to you, Minho?"

"Why are you rooming with me when you could possibly afford a whole room on your own?"

"Yes, Jisung," Minho sighs and sits back on his chair. You bend forward, arms folded against the table as you stare at your best friend in betrayal. "Also, Y/N, don't you love having me around?"

He laughs and rests his head on your shoulder suddenly, causing you to stiffen them in response. Your eyes drift to the left, trying to not make it overtly obvious that Minho's sudden reaction has taken you by surprise. Your eyes land forward on Jisung who looks at you as if he knew this all along, as if he wanted exactly this. The man has a goddamn smirk plastered on his face.

Jisung downs two more shots and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, mumbling, "Slow the fuck down. No one's chasing you."

"Yeah, my goddamn plan," he mumbles before coughing and taking another. Minho sits up straight, finally lifting his head from your shoulder. He stretches his arm to pat Jisung's shoulder in comfort.

"I'll drop a word."

"Now, don't you dare go and say that you want to earn it and all that bullshit," you sigh. "It's the fucking Republic Of Korea. Nepotism is the norm."

"Not planning on saying that," Jisung glares at you. Clearly, Jisung is slightly tipsy, having been the only person to keep drinking. You and Minho opt to just watch over Jisung for the night. Your best friend puckers his lips in Minho's direction and blowing kisses, he says, "I love you, Minho."

"Changbin wouldn't like you saying that to another man though," you scoff and Jisung flips you the middle finger before downing one more and standing up. The thunder rattles the three of you exactly then and you grip the table, face turning pale instantly. Minho's attention darts to you quickly in concern.

"You okay?" You hum in response, unconvincingly though to Minho whose gaze lingers on you in worry for just a while more. That is, till Jisung rips it away by dramatically placing the back of his hand on his forehead and playing the damsel in distress as he gasps so loudly, staring at the big window.

"It's raining heavily," he sighs and you shudder, afraid of another thunderstorm as you grip tightly on the side of the table.

"So?" Minho asks, both eyebrows raised at the man before him, looking at the two of you with doe eyes.

"I'm staying over, thanks," he rushes and runs to your bedroom, quickly shutting the door and latching it and you and Minho stare at each other. As soon as the realisation of what could happen dawns over you, you rush to your closed bedroom, fists banging against the wooden door.

"Yah, Han Jisung," you turn to look at Minho who watches you in amusement. "Open the fucking door."

"No. I don't want to go back home in the rain. You and Minho can share the bed. I am never opening the door. Good night."

"What the fuck? Yah, Sungie, stop acting like a child. Open the door now." You hear no response. "Sungie? Answer me. Open the door please." Minho walks over to you, and tries knocking too, in vain however because Jisung has no plans to open the door.

You look at Minho, the man slightly towering you as he stands by your side and you gasp. You had to share the bed with the same man you just realised you could, perhaps, have developed feelings for?

"Fuck."

Jisung: it finally seems to be working, binnie! luck's on my side this time. Changbin: oh baby. just please don't be disappointed if it doesn't work out this time either. Jisung: i won't be because it's definitely going to work out. eeeee! i'm so excited! 

Another thunderstorm ripples through the air.

Your heart beats quicker in anxiety, eyes squeezing shut as you grip tightly on the pillow, a light whimper leaving your lips. You feel the mattress shuffling underneath you and in the next minute, your ears are covered by Minho's hands. You stiffen as he edges closer to you, his chin resting on your shoulder as his palm pressed against your pinna, covering your ear completely to protect you from the loud sounds of the thunder.

"Minho, what—"

His hand on your right ear slightly shifts to the side as he bends forward to whisper into your ear, to amplify the sounds enough as a way to distract you.

"You never ever told me you were scared of thunderstorms."

Lee Minho is way too close to you to think straight. You feel his body pressed against your back, heat radiating from him to you through your oversized hoodie. His breath is harsh against your skin as he leans close to whisper into your ear. And all this in an attempt to forget the thunderstorm.

So far, it's working like magic. 

Your voice is almost small when you inform him, "We never happened to be in the same place during one," and Minho swears to God, he could lose it completely. All the self control to not confess and take you there is so ready to be shoved out of the window that all he can do is try and focus on worrying about your fears.

"I'll protect you," he mumbles so softly that you turn around to look at him. His eyes are bright in the soft lights in his room and as he lies by your side, so close that you can hear his heart that beats faster and his breath that is shallow, your lips part and you watch him.

You are fully justified for falling in love with this man. 

A man that tells you he'd protect you from your fears, god alone knows how, but the fact that they don't seem like empty words. A man that you know like the back of your hand and the same man that seems to have protected you all throughout your life, even if you have done the same. It was inevitable. Falling for Lee Minho is inevitable.

And that's why you kiss him. Because you're in love with him so badly that all you can zero in is him, him, him.

Your lips press against his, so softly for a split second. As if you are unsure. As if you know you could be ruining years of friendship over something the two of you could consider a mistake. 

You kiss him and suddenly it's the only thing that matters to you right now. Him, him, him. Your lips are slow and soft against him. It is almost as if you are reminding yourself that there has been nothing more morbidly right than this. To fall in love with your best friend. Minho's hand slowly lifts up to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breath mingles only for a split second — one filled with hesitance and uncertainty — before you pull away, looking at your best friend.

It is just a second of a kiss and with Minho so stiff by your side, you panic, and ramble. "I'm sorry. I should have thought it could be unrequited. I like you and I should have asked—”

Minho crashes his lips on yours, so quickly that it takes your breath away and cuts your sentence in half, but you don't care. He pulls you towards him, hands cupping your face tightly and angling it to kiss you, encasing your lower lips in his as he moves against your pink ones. You let out a small gasp as you deepen the kiss, running your fingers down his spine, holding him as close as possible until there is no space left between the two of you. It is just you and him in this small room. Just you and him in focus. You can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Loud, clear and unknown to you that it beats for you in this minute. That it has always been beating for you.

Minho presses his tongue to the seam of your lips and, the minute you let him in, he delves inside your mouth, tongue chasing after yours. Minho kisses you like he has finally achieved the greatest thing ever and he never wants to let it go. Minho kisses like he loves you and you feel it. You feel every ounce of it.

Your arms move up his back and tangle around his thick, strong neck. Playing with the ends of his roots, you suck on his lower lips before he pulls away and finally tells you, "I've always been in love with you, Y/N. Always."

Kissing you again, his thumb digs into the skin by your jaw as he delves deeper, as if he never wants to let you go. The air in the room heats up when your hand moves under his shirt, feeling his muscles under your skin and you moan against his lips. Minho lets go of your lips only to kiss the side of it and then your cheeks and then your jugular before he is littering kisses all over your neck. You moan explicitly, gripping on him and slightly grinding on his thigh. You feel your core heating up, arousal sticking to your panties and all you can think is,

“I want you.”

Minho swears to God that he has always loved confident women but when you shattered right before him and built your confidence right back up — that is the hottest thing he swears he has seen. That, and the fact that you had always been hot before his eyes.

“Really?” Minho lifts himself up and hovers on top of you.

“Really,” you decide to respond before you cup his face and pull his face closer to yours. You don't pull him in for a kiss just yet. Your eyes zero on him, trying to cancel out the loud thunderstorms in the background and just focus on the man before you that you love, that you've been in love unknowingly for a while. 

You just hold his face and learn. You try to remember every single detail of his face that you never focussed on before.

You realise over again that his eyes are your favourite thing. They are black as charcoal and yet still shimmer as if stars are trapped and enclosed beneath them. And when he narrows them to look at you with a daze, your heart throbs and you gulp. They make your heart hurt whenever they fix on you.

You know his skin is soft as you touch. As creamy and velvety as they are, you can't stop touching him. 

His mouth is a pretty shade of coral, plump and pouty and honestly so kissable it hurts to look at it for more than a few seconds. You wonder how you haven't driven yourself to kiss him yet. All these years.

Everything about his face is soft and delicate, that is till he turns a little to the side and angles it perfectly, his head backward and you can clearly see the sharpness of his jawline; the distinct manly cut that makes your mouth dry and your heart beat faster. 

“You are perfect,” you gulp, your eyes back on him and Minho smiles widely. His warm breath caresses your face and his forehead is pressed against yours immediately.

“You know what else is perfect, baby?”

“No,” your voice is airy, even though you already know what he is going to say. You know it and yet the thought causes your heart to skip a bit, and flutter a lot in your chest.

“You and everything you have to offer. You are not average. You are one of the most perfect women I've seen in my whole life, Y/N,” he says. As soon as the words spill from his mouth, your lips are on his, claiming his mouth, the same ones that whispered into your ear that there is nothing to be afraid when he's right there by your side.

He gasps loudly as your hands leave his face and move to his hair to pull him down towards you — you need him so close to you. Your fingers get lost in his thick locks as you tug on them, forcing him to bend a lot forward and gladly welcome the intrusion of your tongue.

His lips are as soft as feathers and they feel like what you think heaven feels like. The warmth you experience is so much more than the tingle of first kisses and those innocent butterflies have nothing on the wanting void of a pit in your nether regions and the slick in between your thighs. 

His hands slide down from your hips to reach behind your back and pull you upwards, only to tightly clasp around the curve of your bottom cheeks.

“Minho,” you groan against his lips after he pulls away from you. His lips are red and swollen, slick and shining with your saliva and so incredibly inviting you all over again and you fear that you may never want to stop kissing him for as long as you are breathing. You fear getting too addicted to this human – more than you already are – to a point where you need to be attached to him by the hip, to never let go of him.

Minho's lips move from your swollen lips to the curve of your jaw, down to the curved edges of your neck, sucking and kissing every exposed skin. 

His hand moves from your clothed arse to under your hoodie, hand pressed against your back as he pulls you closer and forwards, until your chests are pressed against one another. His mouth is everywhere and god, you feel infinite and powerful.

His lips hover on yours. He smiles widely and you think it's cute. He inches his chin forward, flicking your nose a little with his own, a shy smile on his lips as he silently asks the permission to claim your lips anew; all over again.

You nod your head to signal yes. You hold your breath and your eyes flutter shut, awaiting him and his warmth.

Minho's kiss is slow and delicate at first. It is drawn out in a way that makes you want more, so much more, that you want to pull him in and suck the life out of him and yet, at the same time, it is precious and laced with not only the passion of the moment but also the tenderness of a first time together.

It makes your insides twitch and your heart lunge and it fogs up all of your thoughts to the point you feel yourself drowning in the sensation of his lips, pressed tightly on your own. 

Your heart is beating quicker than ever in your chest, against your ribs, and you pull him even closer, so tight your chests have no choice but to heave against each other with every single breath you take. You don’t want to let him go, not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

Minho is something you desperately want to hold onto in your life. He knows your secrets, your everything. He knows what you like and how you like it. He seems to know everything and the thought of letting him go aches your heart and constraints your throat with a sob you wouldn't dare to let out. You want him to be completely yours.

And these thoughts turn you desperate. They force you to make the kiss deeper, to lick his lips and bite them down, to gulp down every sigh and whimper that comes out of him and make them your own. To make him yours.

Your eyes flutter shut, taking in the way his mouth moves over yours, arching further into him. You groan into his mouth and his grip on your back tightens instantly.

“I want you so much, Minho,” you whimper against him after your lips part from his. You lick your lips and gaze at him with your partially closed eyes. “So fucking much.”

“Then, have me. Take me,” Minho purrs against your exposed skin. In a minute, he pulls the oversized hoodie over you, leaving you in just your undergarments as he discards it to the side. His mouth moves over the skin above your breasts and his hand traces the bra you are wearing. He gazes at it and mumbles before latching his mouth back on your skin, “You are so fucking beautiful. Always have been.”

You gleam in pride and your body arches at the contact of his mouth on your skin. Your hands are on the side of his face as you pull him away.

“Can I?”

“Have me? Yes. Completely,” he smiles. He wonders if you are confident. That's all that he hopes when you look at him so unsure and so doubtingly. 

You wet your lips again quickly, your breath coming out in hot puffs of air. Your hands immediately rush to his top, roughly pushing it above. Minho helps you out and pulls it completely away. You are blinded by the passion burning inside of you, your hands eager to explore and touch every expanse of his glowing skin. You want to touch, feel, have a complete experience. You want Minho to remind you of everything you are missing out on.

Your lips attack his neck in a hurry, all rough and passionate on his tender, soft skin, blooming red roses that turn purple against it. You repeat your actions till he’s softly moaning out your name, almost purring them out that you feel yourself becoming slicker. His hands on your back pull you closer and into him so that you won’t stop tainting his flesh and slowly, his soul, in the best ways possible.

Minho whines and sighs and grunts for you. He doesn't hold himself back as his lips leave appreciation for who you are. He closes his eyes as he parts his lips to whimper out your name with every new thing you find that excites him and it drives you absolutely insane. 

You know you should not but you can’t stop wondering how he would sound like as you fuck him hard, rock on his cock to milk his orgasm, make him beg not to stop. You desperately want to break him and draw all these nice sounds out of him, but you know it would most probably be the other way round. Minho allows you to take control occasionally but you know he wants the lead. He wants to be the one to break you apart and pull you back together. 

He pulls back from you, his hands leaving your back and resting on either of your sides. Minho's dark hair brushes over his crescent lidded eyes and nearly shields the hungry, desperate gaze of them. His hand plays with the strap of your panties as his gaze flickers between affection and lust. He cocks his head to the side before asking, “You do want this, right?”

You nod, hoping it would be enough and that he would resume.

“I need to hear you say it out loud, baby,” he firmly says and you gulp.

“Yes, yes. Minho, fuck, I want this. I need this,” you whine, your eyes glassy, as you grip his forearm to lift yourself up and grate and move against the evident bulge on his jeans. 

Minho merely needs that verbal confirmation. He pulls away your panties, resting on your hips and you groan. Still hovering above you and his hands over your pubic mound, his fingers trail lower and you tug at your lower lip in anticipation. Easily, he finds your clit, and begins to rub in slow, languid, lazy motion, up and down, waiting for the moan he so loves to hear from you to spill from your mouth. He grins when he hears those little whimpers and you feel your legs lose mobility from the pleasure he brings you with just a flick of his finger. 

Your back slightly arches off the soft mattress upon the bed when his finger leaves your clit to draw a line up your wet slit, collecting as much of your arousal as he can before slipping his glistening fingers out to admire them in the light. Your cheeks taint pink in embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Minho moans, taking his coated finger into his mouth to suck your juices from it. His eyes flutter shut as if he’s tasting the sweetest aphrodisiac ever known and your lips part at this sight. Lee Minho looks irresistible and you want him, completely.

“God,” he groans. Minho slides himself down your body until he’s in level with your pussy. His eyes gazed at it in sheer adoration and your hand slapped against your mouth. He takes two fingers to spread your lips apart for a better view. “You’re dripping, baby girl.”

You wail as he drags a finger up and down your slit, playfully teasing your fold, making you whine his name out loud. The way you plead for him, beg for him, grind down on his teasing fingers, all set a fire inside you. This has been what you had been craving for so long. The ability of this man to cloud your thoughts and set your body on fire makes you yearn for him even more.

“Minho,” you cry out, whimpering underneath him. “Fingers. I need you. Please, Minho.”

You gasp, your voice airy, when the tip of his finger tentatively slips into you while your fingers dig at his shoulders between your thighs. “Minho, I want you. I just really want you. I need to feel you. Please.”

He drags his finger out of you before you clutch onto him, feeling the need to be overwhelmed. He presses his thumb on your clit and a whimper leaves your mouth. 

“Minho.” And he slides his digit in again almost as if on cue. He pumps his finger in and out of you as his thumb harshly rubs circles on your clit. Your hand leaves your mouth and grabs your hair as the other digs further into his shoulder. 

His mouth leaves hot air against the skin covering your acetabulum and you shudder. His lips graze from there till your thigh before biting on them, sucking them deliriously and leaving you as a whimpering mess.

“Minho, fuck!” You scream, your fingers grabbing your hair to hold control of your body. 

“That's it, baby,” he says against the skin of your thighs. “How I've wanted those beautiful lips to scream out my name from when I've felt them.”

Minho adds another finger and your eyes are screwed shut as he curls them within you and you gasp at the feeling of being widened. You are elated and you feel your arousal leaking down your thighs. He rubs your inside and your clitoris faster and you push your hips towards him, moving with his pace. Minho is also leaving beautiful purple marks in a trail on your thigh and you gape in awe.

You find it all too much. Your emotions are all over the place and your hormones rise up. The movement of his fingers inside you and around your clit, his lips attacking your erogenous spots, kissing, biting and licking short stripes on them. It finally gets to you and you scream his name out in pleasure. Your first orgasm comes crashing down upon you, blinding you. You release all over his fingers and Minho helps you ride out your high as he drags his finger repeatedly but this time, slower than what had been. 

Your head lifts up and hits the pillow slightly as it tilts away. Minho moves upwards, hovering over your face and smiles. You smile back. You are so happy and you do not know how to put it into words.

“Minho?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks?”

“For what?” He looks at you quizzically. 

“That was my first orgasm in months now that wasn't brought about by my own fingers,” you smile wearily and Minho leans forwards and kisses your forehead.

"Should have come to me," he laughs.

"Didn't know if I'd be ruining our friendship."

"Pfft," he scoffs, before kissing you again, his lips gliding against yours and piecing in as if they were always meant to be against yours. "I've been in love with you forever."

"Took me a while to know my own feelings," you mumbles. “Also,” you continue, hoping he listens to your request. “Can I . . . ride you?”

Minho is stunned. There are so many things about you that stuns him and maybe it's the way you try to take control that make you look so much hotter before his eyes. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you plead. “If that is not a bother to you.”

“Why would it? Your wish is my command, but only for this night. Next time, my love, we do this my way,” he teases and winks and your core throbs at his words.

Minho pulls himself away from your body, pulling his shirt over his head and his denim down and away. As he flings his clothes aside and relaxes against the mattress, his cock springs free against his stomach, leaking with milky precum. You sit up beside the space Minho has taken over and watch him and his cock deliriously and lustfully.

You sit up, crawling over to straddle his lap, nervousness setting into your stomach. You’re really doing this. You gulp and swallow the saliva as you look at Minho, whose gaze gives you comfort and confidence. The muscles in your arm stiffens as you grip his shoulder for stability and Minho notices.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you, sensing your reluctance and worry. He pushes back the stray hair falling over your eyes. “You're doing wonderful, babygirl. You are finally all mine. What a pretty girl and all to myself now."

You nod, biting down on your lower lip, and tugging at it harshly, cheeks heating up at his words, arousal gushing out as you look down before aligning with his cock. You want this. You needed this release.

As your folds, dripping with thick, sticky arousal, brush the tip of his hardened cock, you feel a shudder run down your spine. You instinctively allow yourself to lower further, taking the rest of him in you swiftly with the help of your arousal. Sinking down around his dick and feeling him fully wrapped around your clutching walls has you moaning out his name, gasping and panting for air, “Fuck, Minho.”

You rock your hips into him, trying this as you picture it to be, already finding yourself tightening and clenching around his thick length. He fills you up so nicely, stuffing you perfectly full and you salivate. Your lips parts and you find your hips moving on their own accord.

As much as Minho wants to give you complete power over this, it isn't like him and he wishes he could be better. Minho takes your hips in his hands, taking control of your movements to raise you up, leaving you empty and whining. You clench around nothing but air and your own walls, desperate to sink back down. “Minho,” you whine, your lower lip puckers forwards and you feel sad.

As his hand grip around your hips to get a better hold, he slams you back down on his cock, hard, causing you to scream. “Minho, ah!”

He continuously guides you in a rhythmic movement, throwing his head back into his pillows and groaning. You are glad he is helping you out because you know you could not have done it on your own after having just ridden out your high.

The sheen of sweat glistening on his chest catches your eye as he pants. The way his eyes clenched shut and his mouth hangs open with pleasure only makes you move faster around his cock. The sight before you makes you want to see him fucked out further. You want him to crumble under you because of you. 

You ride him, bouncing on his dick and clenching when you feel yourself reaching your climax for the second time that night. Minho’s finger moves down and slips between your sweat soaked bodies to rub your clit, pushing you even further over the edge. Minho knows how to make a woman putty in his hands and you are a living witness of this.

“Are you going to come?” He asks, breathlessly, his voice airy and light, almost floating away. He pulls his head forward to kiss your collarbones, sucking harsh bruises against your skin, continuing further down the existing purple bruises.

“Y-Yes,” you sigh, lacing your fingers through his hair and tugging on the dark strands. “Mhm, fuck, you feel so good, Minho.” You lean forward and the motion causes Minho to whine. You quickly catch it as your lips fall on his. His lips enclose yours and he kisses you slowly and passionately as you move on his cock, lazily.

Words, unfiltered and raw, spill out from your mouth after your lips leave his as you feel the high that is creeping up slowly within you. “Minho, fuck. Oh fuck, you feel so good.”

“Then, come.”

Minho moans against your neck as he feels you, his finger rubbing your clit, “Babygirl, oh fuck. Come all over my cock.”

Minho’s other hand that is not occupied leaves your hip and moves upwards to find their place on your neck. His fingers gently wrap themselves around your neck and his eyes flicker a mischief that makes you wetter than you already are. He presses his fingers against your neck with pressure and you choke. Your mouth opens wide and your tongue falls out slightly resting on your lower lip. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench around Minho’s cock tightly.

Minho learns that your dirty liking for choking is incredibly hot. Seeing you like this is what he knows would get him to come when you are not around. Your fucked out expression as you gasp for air makes Minho plunge into you harder and you choke harder.

A final flick of his finger over your sensitive button and a bit more pressure over your neck are all it takes for your body to flood with pleasure and ecstasy. Your legs tighten around Minho's waist, curling in as you ride out your high for as long as possible, still moving your hips against him. His fingers let go of your neck and you breath loudly, taking in huge gulps of air.

Not long after your undoing, he comes inside you, coating your walls with his seed as you feel his length pulsate within you.

Once your body falls limp against his chest, equally fucked out and panting for air, you feel him going soft inside you. He lifts you up, slowly slipping out of you and gently laying you by his side. His fingers rub small circles on your hips after pulling you closer into him. 

“Hey,” you say and smile. 

Minho kisses your forehead and then, the peak of your nose, and finally, kisses your lips, softly. It isn't lustful or anything. Just plain passion seeping from him to you. You feel his admiration and an emotion you fear to mistake for love. He pulls away and smiles, “Hey, beautiful.”

He comes closer and licks the side of your neck, where he had wrapped his fingers out. The one fantasy that you are so in love with. He peppers soft kisses around it and mumbles an apology. 

“No,” you quickly stop him. “That was everything. I— I really like you." Pausing, the thought crashes your head, post your high and you mumble, "Fuck, I fell in love with my best friend." 

You nuzzle into his chest after he pulls back, your arms wrapping around his body as you calm yourself. Minho chuckles into your ear, "Yes, yes. You clearly did. What do we do now?"

"Take responsibility." You mumble as you slowly find yourself feeling sleepy. Your eyes are slowly drooping and your voice lowers in tone, words drifting away almost, “You better take responsibility for my feelings and take care of me.”

“It'd truly be my honour,” Minho mumbles, lifting you slowly to push his one arm beneath your neck. He uses the other hand to push your hair away from your face. Kissing your forehead, lips lingering for a while, he smiles to himself, laughing slightly as he asks you, "Was the schlong good?”

You laugh softly, snuggling into his chest, fist against it as you try to fall asleep, thunderstorms long forgotten. Kissing his chest, you giggle, "Best ever schlong I have ever had, baby. All mine to keep now."

Jisung: can you pick me up? Changbin: this late? Jisung: i just wanted them to confess. not fuck like bunnies. useless fact i learnt today: they are both loud in bed. Changbin: i'm laughing off the bed literally!!! also!!! Jisung: yeah? Changbin: and they were roommates! Jisung: god, they were roommates. 🙄❤️

[harrywritingsbyme]

The one about Harry's leather suit

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: So I know it’s like a week late, but Harry won a Grammy...and I’m so proud of him. I wish I could’ve written this sooner, but I’m not as talented and as quick to come up with fic ideas like so many other writers on here. So I decided to just write a smutty and little blurb for y’all. This one was rlly hard to write, not bc I was writers block or anything; simply bc there were just too many good concepts to choose from. Plus the timeline of events of said concepts and the fic in general would be shitty and I didn’t want to jump from one time to a new one and not have a cohesive fic…that takes a lot of practice lmao. So I had to leave some stuff out even tho I rlly didn’t want to. But I hope what I was able to put together isn’t trash…the ending sucks but that’s okay I guess. enjoy🙃

3.7k wordsss

You were going absolutely insane right now. As you sat at the end of the bed and watched Harry get ready for his performance, you were finding it incredibly hard to maintain your composure and hold on to any shred of sanity you had left. Your eyes followed his every movement as he floated through the room, not once stopping to focus on something other than Harry. The only times you looked away were when he caught you redhanded staring at him. But even then, your eyes were trained right back on him once he wasn’t looking in your direction. As you sat there, you could feel your body becoming warmer and warmer, little beads of sweat forming along your forehead and the back of your neck as you watched him. You could also feel the area between your legs becoming stickier and stickier as the time went on. Now you always loved the clothes he wore on stage and how he made just about anything look great. You were also consistent with the mindset that Harry was the most gorgeous man to ever walk the earth. 

But for some reason, in this moment he was even hotter than normal and you were completely obsessed with what he was wearing. His outfit managed to make him look even hotter than usual, his gorgeousness managed to make his outfit look even more stunning and hot, and the both of them together managed to push you to the brink of exploding into a billion tiny pieces. On top of all that, even though you knew his nerves were flowing regarding his first and opening performance at the Grammys where he was nominated an incredible three times, you could still feel his excitement and confidence radiating off of him. Which only contributed to you being pushed even closer to exploding into tiny pieces. The combination of feeling proud of Harry and his accomplishments, being very enamored for him, and being extremely hot and bothered over his mere existence was a whirlwind that only Harry could pull you out of. 

“Okay, so how do I look babe?” Harry asks as he turns around to fully face you, his voice breaking you out of your riled up thoughts. 

“You look great.” You quickly reply, trying to suppress the fiery need you had for him that was rumbling nearly uncontrollably inside of you.

“Are you alright Y/n? You seem a bit out of it.” He asks, his voice filled with concern. Well, pretend concern that is. He wasn’t going to just call you out on being so turned on right in front of his team; he wasn’t going to embarrass you like that. He was already doing it in very subtle ways. From keeping the bathroom door open a bit so that you could watch him change, to making sure to catch you staring at him, to even taking the time to shower you with love and attention. Harry knew exactly what he was doing to you and he got such a kick out of watching you crumble and become desperate for him. Maybe that was just his self proclaimed narcissism working in the form of a mild embarrassment kink. Either way though, Harry knew exactly what he was doing and he knew the effect all of the little things he did would have on you. He also knew that he’d have to take care of you before he was sucked into the madness of it all. No matter how much he loved driving you up the walls with his antics, whether it was turning you on beyond compare or annoying the hell out of you, Harry was always going to make sure you were alright. Plus it ended up working out in his favor since he could really use a pre-first time ever Grammy performance round to loosen him up and shake all the nerves that were running through his body. And you looked too cute just sitting there at the edge of the bed watching him.

“Hey Harry, how much time until we have to leave?” Harry asks his stylist, his attention still in your direction.

“A little over an hour.” His stylist promptly replies. 

“Can I have 30 with Y/n please?” Harry asks, his attention still in your direction. He could see you beginning to squirm a bit under his gaze and he wasn’t going to let up until you two were all alone and he could dive into everything that was going on with you right in front of him.

“And not a second more Harry! And Y/n!” He replies, poking his head around the corner to point his response at you as well. “We have to get pictures and all before we leave.” He then proceeds to get the other two of his team members together and out of the the door. “And please don’t get anything on the clothes!” He shouts back, already having a pretty good idea as to what you two were about to get into before closing the door, leaving you and Harry all alone. 

Without saying a single word to you, Harry steps closer to where you’re sitting on the bed and reaches out to grab your hands and pull you up from the bed. To which you immediately oblige and stand up in front of him at the end of the bed. And in what seemed like a blink of an eye, Harry switches positions with you, sitting at the end of the bed before pulling you right on top of him and into his lap.

“What are you-“

“Don’t act like you don’t want it.” Harry interjects, deciding that if he only had 30 minuets with you, he wasn’t going to be playing any games. 

“But we only-“ 

“Do you want to stop throbbing down there or what?” He asks sternly, cutting you off again.

“M’throbbing so bad.” You sigh, completely giving into him and beginning to move yourself against him a bit.

“Why doll?” He asks, wrapping his hands around your thighs to pull you higher up into his lap before helping you move back and forth against him. 

“You just look so good daddy.” You moan, letting out a little sigh at not only the image of him that was stuck in your head, but also at how good it felt to have some type of friction down there. You were craving any type of touch or attention from Harry and you were finally getting it.

“You like what daddy’s wearin’ for his performance?” He breathes out in response, beginning to get a bit more riled up himself. He was already quite turned on at how you were trying so hard to keep it together. But now you were on top of him, a little subby, and falling apart. He could feel his cock growing and growing in his pants beneath you. And the more you moved back and forth on him, the harder he got and the more desperate he became to have your walls around him.

“Mhm!” You whine, continuing to move back and forth against him. “Need you so bad!” You whimper, leaning into him a bit more so that you could dig your clit down into him. Which in turn causes your moans to become a tad higher. 

“Is that little clit of yours tingling for daddy sweet girl?” He asks, bucking his hips up into you a couple times, picking up on the slight change in your movement. “Bet it’s nice and swollen f’me. Always so sensitive and ready to be played with.” He continues on, reminiscing on all the times where he made you squirt multiple times simply from toying with and sucking on your cute little bud. 

To move things further along, Harry removes his hands from your thighs and he brings brings them up to your waist before lying back against the bed and pulling you higher up in his lap. You were so caught up in how good it felt to be relieving some of the pressure between your legs against the bump in Harry’s pants that you didn’t even notice Harry taking a peek underneath your dress. 

“Well I see someone decided to wear panties today.” Harry chuckles as he pushes his index finger up between your folds a bit to pull the panties that your pussy had practically engulfed out, causing you to snap out of your pleasured trance.

“Figured it was appropriate for the occasion so I decided to just throw a pair on.” You explain through your soft pants, a cute little smile spreading across your face in the process. 

“Cute. But if y’gonna wear panties sweets, make sure they can fit all of y’pussy.” He chuckles, admiring how the glistening and fleshy lips of your cunt practically swallowed up all of the material from your panties.

“But I thought you liked that daddy.” You whisper though a little pout, lifting your dress a little higher to take a peek down there yourself. 

“I do sweet girl. It’s just that I prefer easy access y’know. Never know when I may wanna fuck you or eat your pretty little peach.” He explains. “Don’t want anything in the way.” He continues on, swiftly pulling your panties, which were pretty sticky by the way, to the side to expose your even stickier pussy to him.  “Now that’s even cuter.” Harry huffs, his need to feel you growing by the second. You were so wet that all the curly little hairs around your pussy were completely matted from all of your sticky juices. He had to feel that around his cock.

“Thank you daddy.” You whisper back, feeling a warmth rising to your cheeks at his comment and the fact that he’s just ogling at your pussy. “Now it’s your turn.” You whisper excitedly, moving down off of his bulge some more and shifting your focus on undoing his pants. “I see someone didn’t have the same idea.” You note upon seeing that he was completely bare underneath his pants. 

“Don’t like t’be confined baby, you know that.” He replies simply. “Again, easy access.”

“Just don’t get hard while you’re performing, you know how you get.” You warn. See, given the fact that Harry loved performing, on top of the fact that he was again, a self proclaimed narcissist, he tended to get a bit of a performance high so to speak. And as a result of that performance high, Harry would get excited. And since he is now a 3x Grammy nominee, and performing for that matter, that performance high was definitely going to be intensified. 

Once you’ve completely undone his pants, you immediately push your hand down into them and you pull his cock out. At this point he was fully hard and throbbing, begging to be lodged in between your walls. You could see and feel all of the veins running up and down his shaft and his head was a reddish color with glistening precum beading at his slit. As you stare at his very sizable cock, you couldn’t help but be a little bit intimidated at his size. He was so big and even after the countless times he’s pushed into you, it was still incredibly hard to fathom all of him being able to fit inside. But that didn’t meant that you didn’t want him to be inside of you. So without wasting any more time, you lift yourself onto your knees and you move up to hover over Harry’s cock, keeping your hand wrapped around his hard yet soft shaft. When you do this, Harry uses his free hand to bunch your dress up at your hips so that he could watch you sink down onto him. 

“Don’t be scared of it baby. Just take it inside like the good girl you are for daddy.” He encourages through his breaths, pulling your panties to the side a bit more. You then begin to lower yourself down onto him, stopping when you feel the thick crown of his cock nudging at you. Since you couldn’t really see, you feel your way around, pushing his cock around the warm and ready area between your legs. Once you have him positioned at your entrance, you begin to slowly sink down onto him. 

“Oh my-fuck daddy!” You whimper, feeling the familiar sting that came along with taking Harry’s cock.

“Doin’ so good f’me baby!” Harry praises trough his grunts, becoming a bit overwhelmed at how good you feel around him. Your whines were like music to his ears as you filled yourself with him and your walls were like heaven. 

By the time you make it a little over halfway down his cock, you’re all floaty and incredibly overwhelmed that you can’t even go any further without stopping. When you open your eyes to look down at Harry, you see him staring back at you with intense yet proud eyes and you couldn’t help but clench up around him a bit. 

“Can I have more daddy?” You moan, moving mack and forth against the portion of his cock that was already inside of you. Instead of verbally replying to your question, Harry lets go of your panties and brings it up to your waist so that both hands were at your waist for him to guide you the rest of the way down. And as he does, the both of you let out the most frenzied moans, you and Harry feeling the deepest part of you becoming full with his cock. There were even little tears welling up in your eyes because it just felt so good. When you’re fully sitting in his lap again, you immediately begin moving against him. You have keep both hands planted on his bare chest as you grind and bounce yourself on his cock

“Fuck Y/n! Takin’ me so well doll.” Harry grunts, keeping his hands tightly wrapped around your hips as you move. Even though your movements were a bit sloppy, they were still nothing short of perfect. At some points you’d get a good bouncing rhythm going, lifting yourself and dropping back down onto him over and over again. And then you’d hit that spot inside of you, and you’d just keep yourself down and grind and circle your hips around to apply pressure and friction to that spot with his cock. Other times you’d be moving on his cock, but you’d be digging your clit into the slightly coarse hairs surrounding Harry’s cock, that being your biggest pleasure point. Harry was positive that your little button would be all swollen and even more sensitive than it already was once you were done but you could’ve cared less. All you were concerned about was feeling good. And so was Harry. 

He loved and thought you looked absolutely cute being all selfish and trying your hardest to relieve yourself. While you were consumed with pleasuring yourself, you were in turn pleasuring Harry in ways that were beyond belief. On top of the obvious fact that your walls were the best and the only thing Harry ever wanted to be around his cock, your juices were also playing a part in his pleasure. Since you were practically gushing around him, your juices were constantly flowing out of you. They were dripping right out of you, down from his cock, and down to his balls and even further to his entrance. It felt so good to Harry, he wished he could have more. You were making him feel so good that his moans were just a song of your praises.

But even though you were making Harry feel absolutely amazing, you were becoming exhausted. At this point, it was too much and you could barely hold yourself up let alone keep moving back and forth against him. Upon seeing this, Harry takes control of it all and flips you two over so that he’s on top of you. When he does this, his cock slips out of you. But instead of immediately pushing back inside, Harry brings his hands to your thighs to push them apart before pulling your panties back over to the side and attaching him mouth to your oh so sensitive clit.  When you feel Harry suckling on your clit, you lose it. You could feel him suckling and sucking on your button, quickly flicking his tongue back and forth against you, not once letting up. You could also feel him using his free hand to lightly scratch at the inside of your thigh which was also very sensitive. Harry then lets up from your clit to give you one wide lick from your entrance all the way up to your clit before going back to sucking at it. And at that moment, you realize that you wouldn’t be able to wait and cum with him. You just let go right then and there. To be more specific, you squirt all over the lower portion of Harry’s face and part of his chest. When he feels your warm juices splashing against his face, he begins to suck even harder; making your moans intensify and your hands tug even harder on his hair. Once you’ve stopped squirting, Harry detaches his mouth from your clit, and quickly licks and slobbers all over you before coming back up. Even though your juices were all warm, it was still a little refreshing considering the fact that he was quite literally burning up in the all leather look that you loved so much.

“Now what you have between your legs is a Grammy winning pussy sweetheart. And it deserves every other award there is to give.” He praises through a chuckle, causing you to let out a little, tired out laugh. Harry was completely in awe at how amazing your cunt was and what you just did. But he doesn’t spend too much time being in awe though because he can feel his release bubbling in his lower stomach and the time he has left with you was running low. So he taps his cock against your very pink and swollen clit before sinking back into you and going right into pistoning himself in and out of you over and over again. With every stroke, Harry could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He could also feel you tightening your walls up around him with every thrust. You were incredibly sensitive from your last release and you were on the brink of another. Whenever he slams back into you, he almost grinds up against you, aka your clit. 

“Gonna cum again daddy!” You cry out to him, digging your heels into the bed and clawing at the sheets, feeling a second wave building up inside of you. 

“Cum with me baby.” Harry growls, feeling himself approaching the edge of his release. And with two more swift thrusts, you and Harry are catapulted off of the edge. As you squirt for the second time (thank goodness he had them pushed down far enough so that they wouldn’t get all wet), Harry unloads all he has into you, dropping his head into your neck as he releases spurt after spurt of his cum into you.

After a minuet or two of catching his breath, Harry lifts his face from your neck and he slowly pulls himself from you, making sure to quickly pull your panties back over to keep his cum from spilling out and making an even bigger mess between your legs. And to really keep all of that cum secure inside of you, he pushes your panties back up between the lips of your pussy. They were going to end up in there anyways so why not. 

“Thanks for the sugar high doll.” He hums as he hovers over your disheveled and adorably fucked out figure, his bended knee right between your limp and spread legs. “I love you” He softly sings with a dopey smile. Proceeding to bring his hand up to lightly choke you and  cup your chin before connecting his lips with your slightly parted ones for a kiss. It was supposed to be And as he sponges his lips against yours, you could feel his tongue gliding perfectly against yours, taking complete control and exploring your mouth. 

“I love you too.” You reply with a little laugh once he pulls away from your lips, still floaty from it all.

He then stands up and pulls his undone pants back up. He looked absolutely gorgeous right then and there. When you see your phone lying on the bed where you tossed it a little bit earlier, you quickly reach over and grab it to capture a quick snap of that undeniably hot moment that was right in front of your eyes. His pants were undone like they were when he first put the clothes on and because you missed out on that first opportunity to capture him like that, you weren’t going to miss out on this one. Especially when he’s covered in that amazing post sex glow. 

“Are you takin’ pictures of me?” He smirks as he begins to do his pants back up. 

“Mhm, how could I not?!” You ask, dropping the phone back onto the bed to fully take in his actions in front of you.  “Plus, I want to be the first to memorialize this suit.”

“Well you’re first one to christen it that’s for sure.” Harry jokes. “I do look pretty hot though if I do say so myself.” Harry admires, looking into the mirror beside him. 

“Very hot. The leather is just doing it for me for some reason.” You admire.

“Well m’glad you like it sweets.” He Hums “Gotta get up though, I have a feeling they’re about to kick down the door.” He replies, quickly doing his pants back up before leaning over to grab you up from the bed. 

“Cant feel my legs.” You tiredly huff, doing your best to move with Harry’s tugging motions.

“Well if I win on Sunday you won’t be feeling your legs for the entire week.” He replies mater of factly.

“And if you don’t?” You ask, deciding to poke at him a bit as you sit at the end of the bed.

“You won’t be feeling your legs for the entire week.” He chuckles, repeating his previous statement.

“Now I’m really looking forward to Sunday. I mean…I get to watch you perform in this suit again, I get to watch you achieve something major in your career, and I get the opportunity to be railed at the end of it all. I’m the real winner here.” You happily reply to Harry before falling back onto the bed. 

Masterlist

[unfoundhoney]

toe the line ; part three ↠

↠ slimecicle x fem!reader ; angst , the fluff will get here eventually i promise

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ; part four

↠ @ochabby @kiritokunuwu @pyrotechnics84 @nottheotheruser @d0vesatdawn @ashturnedtomist @bloopi @enderhoe @plaguenecromancer @prickypearpropaganda @phantom-aurora @starswspacey

It’s funny how true the saying “you never miss something until it’s gone” is. If Charlie had to describe how the last two weeks have been, it’d be like that. He didn’t think it was humanly possible to miss someone so much, to actually have every second of every day be taken up by the thought of you. He’d been trying to work but with a blatant lack of you, he hadn’t been able to focus and decided to take a walk to clear his head.

It wasn’t helping.

A man walks past with a big, floofy, white dog on a leash. You would stop to ask to pet it. You always loved dogs and Charlie has no doubt in his mind that if your apartment building allowed pets, there’d be at least one living with you and him.

There’s a bookstore on the corner of a street. You would poke your head in, look around for a while and buy some novel by an author you’d never heard of. It’d probably lay unopened for a couple months until you suddenly remembered it one day and binged it in under three days.

A street musician plays across the street in a park, improving on his saxophone over a jazzy backing track. You would insist on staying to listen, waiting until he finished this song, applauding, and giving him ten dollars or so. Charlie stuffs his hands a little deeper in his pockets and keeps walking.

What was supposed to be a head-clearing (and distracting) walk has turned into the exact opposite. Charlie knows he won’t be getting any more work done today.

It starts to rain as he walks but he doesn’t head back, instead walking farther and into a different park. As it rains harder, he finds a bench to sit on. The cold and wet he finds himself submerged in distracts him better than anything else has been able to.

Water drips inside his collar and soon he finds himself soaked through. Still, he just sits there, staring straight ahead of him and focusing on the uncomfortable feeling of being fully clothed and completely wet.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there. Minutes. An hour. Two hours. But suddenly the rain stops. He’s no longer being showered with water droplets, even as the rain continues pouring all around him.

“Charlie? You okay, man?”

Charlie looks up and funnily enough, there’s Ted. He’s holding an umbrella over Charlie, looking down at him in concern. He realizes how bad this must look, sat in the rain looking dead inside.

“What’re you doing?” Ted asks slowly.

“Just... chilling.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You good?”

“I’m doing great.” He gestures generally, tries to crack a joke. “Can’t you tell?”

Ted doesn’t smile. “Dude, seriously. Are you okay?”

Charlie swallows, smile fading. He wants so badly to say “yeah, I am” and be able to mean it. He’s the one who messed everything up; he doesn’t have a right to be feeling this bad with you gone when he was the one who chased you away. And yet here he is, sitting in the rain.

“No.”

“...let’s go back to your place.”

Ted walks Charlie back home, sharing his umbrella despite the fact that Charlie is already totally soaked. Ted doesn’t seem to mind too much when Charlie drips on him; he’s likely more worried about Charlie than his left side getting a little wet.

They get back to Charlie’s apartment and Charlie changes quickly into dry clothes before joining Ted in the living room. It’s painstakingly obvious when Ted unknowingly sits in your spot.

After several minutes of awkward silence and even more awkward attempts at small talk, Ted finally asks the question he’s been meaning to for two weeks.

“How’s um... How’s Y/N?” Ted tries tentatively.

“She’s okay. Sort of. I think.”

“You think?”

“She’s kind of been avoiding me. She’s been staying at Schlatt’s for the past eleven days.”

“She has?”

“I think she needed some space, but it’s been over a week now and I’m kind of deteriorating away in the silence of our apartment alone.”

“Have you tried talking to her about... it?”

“You mean her feelings for me that she’s had for years and I’ve never noticed and then accidentally outed in front of all our friends and neither of us are sure our relationship will recover because we don’t know how to act now that we’re both aware one of us wants more than platonic friendship?”

“...yes.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“It sounds really bad when you phrase it like you just did but there’s no way around this,” Ted says. “I know how much you two care about each other. You two would be miserable without each other.”

“We- We’d be... fine.”

“That was the most unconvincing thing I have ever heard in my entire life.”

“I-“

“Not to mention the fact that you are literally living proof that you are not fine without Y/N.”

“Doctor Ted PhD is making a reappearance,” Charlie weakly tries to joke.

“Charlie.”

Ted did just find Charlie having a rather severe episode of “main character syndrome,” so there’s really no arguing with him. He is not doing fine without you. It’s only going to get worse the longer he goes without trying to reassemble the shattered pieces of your friendship.

Charlie’s will finally gives way. “I don’t know what to do, man. I fucked up so bad and now I’m terrified I’m never going to be able to get back to where we were. Everywhere I go all I can think about is her and she just- I have never been happier than I am when I’m with her and I just-... I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to lose her.”

Charlie buries his head in his hands, heels of his palms digging into his eyes. He’s finally letting himself be distressed over the very real possibility of losing his best friend instead of ignoring the situation entirely.

Meanwhile, Ted is connecting some very obvious dots.

“She’s all you can think about?”

“Yeah, like, I’ll just be going to the store or something and it’s like ‘oh, she’d smell those flowers,’ ‘she’d drag me to try that restaurant,’ ‘she’d go to see that movie with me.’”

“And you’re happiest with her.”

“Yeah, man. I’ve had other friends, other best friends even, but no one compares to her and how she just gets me. You’ve seen it; we have this synergy that I have never gotten with anyone else.”

“And you are very worried about the possibility of losing her.”

“...yes. Are you just repeating what I’ve said?”

“Just waiting for you to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

Ted doesn’t respond, holding the silence patiently. Charlie continues to look at him, confused. The apartment is quiet, not quite in the unbearable way it is when he’s alone but it still doesn’t feel right without you here.

For eleven days, you haven’t sung in the shower. You haven’t made breakfast just how he likes it. You haven’t distracted him from work to show him a TikTok, not that he ever minded. You haven’t fallen asleep on movie night and he’d willingly carry you to bed if you asked him sleepily, kind of wishing you’d ask him to stay with you one night.

You would grab his hand and ask him to stay. He’d do so without hesitation. Curled together under the covers, you would be close and warm and intimate in a new but welcome way. He’d hold you tight, your breath soft against his neck.

Wait.

Charlie looks up in horror. “No.”

Ted narrowly stops the shit-eating grin from spreading across his face. “Yes.”

“No. No no no, shit.”

“I am so happy I get to be here for this.”

“Shut the fuck up, Ted,” Charlie cuts him off.

He’s angry. Not at Ted but at himself. He rushes over to the door, shoving his feet back into his still-wet shoes.

“I’ve fucked up so bad. Oh my god, this is all my fault.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“God, shut up, you are not helping.”

“Sorry, just telling it like it is.”

Charlie glares at Ted. “Show yourself out.”

Charlie takes off out of the apartment without an umbrella again, completely prepared to get another set of clothes completely soaked. He prays to whatever higher power may be listening that you have the ungodly amount of forgiveness that will be needed to forgive his stupidity.

[littlegodzilla]

Are you cum? Daryl Dixon x Reader.

One short- Daryl Dixon x Reader.

M, smutt, shower sex, oral sex, rude sex…

Hi! Thi is my first story here on tumblr and in english, I'm sorry if it's a mess because english is not my first language and I'm a little nerveous.

Okay so… I hope you enjoy this!

Your comments and advice would help me a lot for future projects, thank you!

You've spent all day outside the prison; killing zombies, hunting for dinner, fixing the fence. You're exhausted. You came home almost at night, cooked dinner with Carol, talked to Rick and Glenn about the upcoming guards, then talked and laughed with Beth and Maggie, but you were getting sleepy and needed to take a shower before going to your cell and sleep.

You are now in the prison showers, you will take a quick shower as you have no hot water and it is not yet warm enough to be under water for long. You undress leaving your clothes aside, to wash them tomorrow when you wake up and leave the clean clothes near your shower, you turn on the water and you are surprised, it is warm, not too warm, but certainly nicer than the ice you showered with the day before. You smile as you stand under the water letting your muscles relax, letting the dirt from your skin leave your body and get lost down the drain. You sigh closing your eyes, wetting your hair as you hear the locker room door creak. You open your eyes, alert, almost gasping for breath trying to figure out who or what could have come in, yet the room seems quiet, you can only hear the water falling and your heart pounding.

You try to relax again, without giving importance to the noise, maybe it was the air that has moved the door, it does not close well so it is possible that it has only creaked in the breeze. But you turn quickly when you hear footsteps coming towards you. You freeze to discover him there, staring at you with a frown on his face, his eyes dwarfed. Daryl stares at you so hard it seems to pierce through you. You cover your body with your hands. He has never stared directly at you. In fact; he seems to hate you. Whenever you are near he growls, snorts like a cat and turns away, as if your presence bothers him deeply. But you like him very much. Since you joined the Atlanta group, Daryl caught your attention like a bird to a cat, but he soon made it clear to you that he wasn't interested in you, anyways, you've even started to feel that the hunter seems interested in Carol so you have nothing to do, but.... Why is he there, why is he looking at you so intensely? He advances two more steps towards you and instinctively you step back. Daryl snorts and his brow furrows.

"Are you afraid of me?" his voice sounds hoarse, raspy, you quickly shake your head.

"N...no...just.... What are you doing here?" you ask, your voice trembling, the water is back on you, a few strands fall down your face, but you watch perfectly as Daryl removes his vest and shirt. Your breath is abruptly cut off as you see his fingers travel to his own pants unbuttoning them.

"I've been waiting for you." He says in a low tone as he removes his boots and stands completely naked in front of you.

You have to admit, you didn't expect that. Your mouth goes dry as your eyes roam all over his body with curiosity and hunger, he is somewhat slender for how strong and broad his shoulders, chest and abdomen are worked, but without being exaggerated, long and muscular legs and... wow, you had to admit he's well endowed. He's not fully erect, just standing up shyly, waving and yet his size is interesting. You watch as his hand closes around his cock, touching himself a couple of times, making it grow faster as he moves closer towards you. Your back hits the shower wall, you can no longer run away. Daryl's hands block your escape by trapping you between his body and the shower, water is pouring down on him, but he doesn't seem to mind. His blue gaze dilates, his color becoming darker now that he has you close to him. You want to say something, you want to stop him, but he leans in and catches your mouth with his. You gasp.

Daryl's mouth catches your lips without permission. He devours your mouth, his tongue flaring out, tangling with yours, tearing a surprised moan from you. His teeth bite your lips, battering them, swelling them, leaving them red with each new dominant kiss. His body clings completely to yours, one of his hands closes around your hair and tugs at it. A new moan dies from your mouth to his. You feel his hands tremble as they caress your waist, moving tentatively up to your chest. His fingers close over your skin, massaging and rubbing each breast, he opens his fingers and traps your nipples, pinching, tugging gently at them. You pull away from his mouth moaning, throwing your head back at the sensation.

Daryl leaves your mouth to run his lips across your chin, down your neck, shits on your collarbone and his fingers squeeze your chest again. You open your eyes wide as Daryl pulls away from your body and spins you around. You turn off the shower water and he forces you a little away from the wall, leaning you forward. You obey by placing your hands on the tile, your whole body is trembling as you position yourself just as he is guiding you, exposing yourself to him by spreading your legs a little to find the most comfortable balance. You feel Daryl's hands down your back, caressing, pressing against your skin. He reaches up to your ass and you feel his hands trembling. You are a little surprised, it seems to be something new to him. You want to say something to lighten the mood or for him to just fuck you and not mess around so much, but before you can open your mouth, Daryl has knelt behind you and his tongue brushes your folds awkwardly. You jump at the feel of him, gasp in surprise and spread your legs a little wider. His tongue is clumsy at first, but he quickly finds the rhythm and the way to make your legs tremble and a moan escapes your mouth.

His tongue runs up and down your folds, his hands rest on the inside of your thighs and he spreads your labia a little with his thumbs. You moan louder when the tip of his tongue presses against your entrance, it pushes wanting to enter, but only dilates you a little to pull it out again and run down your pussy to your clit.

"Daryl!" you moan his name as his lips close around your swollen muscle.

The archer responds with a grunt. He licks, sucks on your clit, his tongue licking all over your wetness again. The wet sound of his mouth devouring you echoes throughout the locker room turning you on more and more. Your breath hitches as, without his mouth neglecting your clit, his fingers part your folds and he slips one of them inside you. Your moan is much louder and you wiggle your hips against his finger desperately, wanting more. He moves his finger almost at the same time as his mouth continues to torture you. In and out, he twists it and tries to go as deep as possible. Your body does not stop trembling. The pleasure runs through you, the heat rises from your pussy to your head making you dizzy. You clench your toes and lean your forehead against the wall looking for a new stability when another finger thrusts inside you, dilating you carefully, making circles, looking for your orgasm and you have to admit that you are much closer than you think to get it.

"Oh fuck! There...! Right there!". You scream throwing your hips back again. His fingers curl touching your spot and your head spins. Pleasure swirls in your lower belly announcing what's about to happen.

"Cum for me..." you hear him say in a husky voice and you can't stop yourself.

Your orgasm hits you hard. You arch your back, stand slightly on tiptoe and scream as the pleasure rushes through you, giving you goose bumps. Daryl continues to move his fingers inside you lengthening your climax, feeling your walls vibrate against his fingers and getting wetter and wetter. When your body stops trembling, he pulls his fingers out slowly and exchanges them for his tongue. You moan softly as he inserts it inside your vagina. He licks your fluid, runs along your walls, which continue to tighten with slight spasms. You moan again and he pulls away, getting in behind you.

Your whole body leans against the shower wall, you need a moment to get your head together, let the orgasm let you think and come to your senses. Daryl approaches you again. He pushes your wet hair away from your face and kisses you slowly, giving you a taste.

You gasp against his mouth, when it seems that your body is no longer going to collapse, you kiss him with the same intensity with which he kisses you. One of your hands tightens on the back of his neck, playing with his hair damp with sweat and the water from the shower that fell on his head a short while ago. Your free hand moves down to his still erect cock and you slowly massage it feeling it harden a little more if possible. Daryl grunts into your mouth, you smile and pull away biting his lip. You look at each other for a few seconds, your hand squeezes his cock once more and he gasps. You push him away, he takes a few steps back and now it's your turn to enjoy him a little.

You kiss him again, slowly, slowly, slowly, when Daryl tries to take control, you pull away going down his neck. You bite, lick and tug at his skin feeling it tighten under your mouth, he grunts and gasps, one of his hands tangles in your hair pulling it back a little. you gasp against his collarbone.

You kneel in front of him, his cock, swollen and fully hard in front of your eyes begins to leak pre-cum. You lick your lips and hold it by the base stroking it slowly before running the tip of your tongue over its head. Daryl's legs tremble at the feel of your tongue on his glans. You pick up his tip with your tongue, suck and lick making an obscene wet sound that causes Daryl to hold you tighter by your hair, but he doesn't force you, he keeps your head right where you want it to be, letting you enjoy what you are doing even though it is clearly torture for him.

Little by little you introduce it inside your mouth covering as much as possible, however the last piece you wrap your hand around it, squeeze gently and begin to move your mouth up and down his cock at the same time as your hand moves collecting your saliva, dripping it all over his cock. Daryl moans hoarsely, squeezes his hand tighter in your hair and his hips thrust for a second against your mouth slamming the tip of his cock against your throat. You moan low, vibrating the sound around his cock giving him new pleasure and he curses.

"Fuck, stop." Daryl says with frustration in his voice. "Get up." He orders you with a tone so low it slams directly against your clit.

You lick his entire erection once more, collect the pre-seminal fluid from his tip and slowly rise up leaning against his body. You seek his mouth and kiss him, Daryl grimaces as he tastes himself on your tongue and pulls you away from him to turn you around so you rest your hands against the shower wall again.

You bend your body, spread your legs apart and raise your ass a little, exposing yourself completely to him. You lick and bite your lips in anticipation, Daryl moves behind you, you feel his thumb sneak inside you a couple of times before parting your folds and guiding his cock into your vagina. Daryl thrusts slowly, you moan feeling his glans slip inside and stay that way for a moment. You gasp with some desperation, you want him to move, but the archer seems paralyzed, you feel his hands rest on your ass and he pushes some more. You look over your shoulder, discovering him totally focused on what he is doing. His eyes are on his own cock, how it loses itself between your folds, how your wet insides receive it tightly, slipping deeper. Daryl grunts like an animal before withdrawing almost completely. His hands now tighten on your hips and he thrusts violently becoming completely still inside you.

You cry out in pain and pleasure, throwing your head back. Your fingers curl into the wall, clawing, your hips thrust back wanting to feel him deeper. Daryl pulls back again long enough to thrust again, repeating the action several times, driving you wild. You moan loudly, moving in time with him, feeling him thrust his way inside you violently, pounding your insides deep, deep, deep. Pleasure courses through you both, Daryl keeps panting and moaning against the skin of your back. He rests his forehead on the center of your back and his thrusts begin to get faster but just as deep. One of his arms encircles your waist and his fingers touch and squeeze your swollen clit. You moan again in desperation, feeling that you are on the verge of another orgasm.

"Daryl!" you cry out his name almost as a warning.

"Cum." He orders you again and again his hips slow down giving hard thrusts inside you, his fingers never stopping moving over your clit. "Cum, I want to feel you cum." He gasps against your skin and bites the skin of your back.

You can't control yourself. Pleasure explodes violently inside you, rushes through you, your eyes close and your mind goes blank. The scream in your throat grows longer and more intense as Daryl moves quickly behind you again and cums hard and thick inside you. He stays pinned, deep, inside you, his fingers clenched tightly on your hips, his wet forehead pressed against your back.

And you open your eyes.

You startle on the bed in your cell. You open your eyes wide, feel your body throbbing, your breathing ragged and your panties completely wet. You need a moment to become fully aware of what has just happened. You've had a fantasy about Daryl, and not only that, you've managed to cum just by imagining it, which feels a little humiliating as you're completely soaked and uncomfortable inside your pants. You sit up a little on your bunk still feeling your heart racing. But you freeze as you realize that you are not alone.

You raise your head quickly to find Daryl standing in the doorway of your cell. He stands there watching you with his arms folded across his chest, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed tightly together. Panic sweeps through you as your breathing becomes nervous. Daryl pulls slightly away from the door frame as he snorts like a cat.

"Have you cum yet?" he asks you in a deep voice, in a hoarse whisper, however there is no excitement in his voice, rather he sounds angry.

"I..." You stammer, what exactly can you say?

"Next time be less noisy, I remind you that there is a baby here who needs to sleep." Daryl cuts you off and you lower your gaze in embarrassment. "Bitch." he growls one more time and then walks away, leaving you embarrassed and humiliated.

 He definitely hates you.

 If you have read this far, thank you very much! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Comments and Likes are always welcome.

We'll read each other!

[tommyspeakycap]

Can I request some chilly fluff? Anything really, just some cute sweet chilly fluff with a little bit of angst maybe?

of course! here's an idea that's been swimming around my brain all day lol

helping hand

ben isn't coping with his newest responsibility and his best friend comes to save the day once again

It's honestly less about the news than it is about the fact that you didn’t here it from him. Texts have gone mostly unanswered since you read that online article you first believed was false, only for it to be confirmed by him. You offered a congratulations despite the pain it brought to you to hear that you had completely lost your chance.

You had probably called him about a million times, each time ringing out and some even being hung up after merely a few rings.

At first, you worried that something had happened. Then you managed to wrangle the news out of Mason that everything was well, you let yourself have those days of utter heartbreak that he had found a girl, started to settle down and then completely cut you out of the picture. This was the first time in all of your 23 years that you hadn't been able to speak to him about things that were going on. He seemed to have completely fogotten about you and you couldn't bring yourself to think of a reason why.

She never really did like you, his girlfriend. You could only imagine it had something to do with the fact that Ben was incredibly close with you. A lot of girls had been unhappy with the fact that while dating Ben, they were subject to teasing that everyone was surprised he was dating when they had thought he was so clearly in love with you. You understand that, it would be irritating but nothing had ever happened between you and Ben that might suggest you would ever get together. People just love a rumour.

What had really hit you, however was seeing her from the Instagram you followed. She didn't even appear to be in London, never mind with him and that made no sense by the timeline you had managed to figure out.

That's how you found yourself standing at his door with what felt like a million bags and a feeling of hurt you had never actually had before. You cornered Mason, refusing to leave until he told you what the hell was going on and when he did, you were gone like a flash with a broken heart to seek out the man who needed you now more than he ever did.

Your heart shatters even more when you step into his house, pushing it open and pulling out the key he gave you a few months ago as you head carefully to the kitchen. You can hear him trying to talk, his voice strained and croaky as he attempts to speak over the sound of the screaming baby girl.

"Come on sweetheart," he begs, "Please take your bottle, I promise you're just tired."

His house is messier than you've ever seen it with gifts unopened, blankets and bottles, baby toys and clothes strewn around everywhere you could see.

You're quick and quiet to get to work clearing the place up, clean clothes being folded and sat in his clean laundry hamper while sorting the dirty things and shoving them into the washing machine by colour before tidying away all the blankets into the baby boxes he had set up in his front room. The infant upstairs screams the entire time you whiz around, throwing an entire bin bag worth of rubbish out of his kitchen before restocking all the shelves and his empty fridge with food for him and milk powder for the little girl. The pizza you shoved in the oven the second you arrived was finished after 15 minutes, so you plated that and left it on the kitchen island before you decided to make you presence known to him.

"Need a helping hand?"

His head whips around rapidly, instinctively tucking his daughter closer into his chest before he recognised your voice and turned his face back away from you. "You shouldn't be here, (y/n)." He mumbles, bouncing his legs to try and get that screeching to stop before he starts crying again himself.

How had everything ended up so messy? He found a girl that he thought he loved, he had his best friends and he had you. She got pregnant and he was ecstatic until she told him she wasn't interested in having a baby. It was too late to do anything about it, so she gave birth to that baby and legally signed over parental rights wholly and fully to a destroyed Ben. You, of course, had to find this out half from the tabloids and half from Mason. Ben was absolutely affronted. He was mortified. How had he gotten himself in this position?

You were the first and only person he wanted to tell. He was desperate to seek out your arms and have an absolute sob to you so you could help him fix this like you do with everything else, but he couldn't bring himself to face you. He cut you off slowly and carefully without even noticing himself because she had coaxed him into it. She played him like a fiddle, let him grow her platform and fund her lifestyle until she had everything she wanted from him and left him with something that was supposed to be theirs to love forever.

As if things couldn't get worse, from the moment he found out she was having a baby he had realised he didn't want kids or a life with anyone but you and now here he is, with a baby that has no mother and he had lost you. How could he just go back crying to you now after all the hurt he had caused you? What kind of person does that? He made this mess and it was his to clean up.

"Mason told me what happened. You can fight me all you want, Ben but I'm not going to go anywhere so you may as well just let me help." You say firmly, not inviting a single space for him to actually contest your words. His shoulder deflate even further than they already are as he finally turns to meet your eyes.

There's bags and dark circles beneath his with greasy, messy hair and a shirt he probably hadn't changed in longer than he should.

"I'm sorry." He croaks, clamping down on his lip with his teeth so he doesn't immediately burst out crying at the sight of you standing there in his house. God, he's missed you so much he couldn't even begin to put it into words and his emotions are so messed up from the lack of sleep that he'll cry at just about anything right now. "It's forgotten about. We don't have to talk about it, I'm here to help."

The weight that lifts off of Ben's shoulder is the kind of immense relief that only really you can bring to him, honestly. There are few people that he has ever met that can ease him like you can and knowing he doesn't have to explain this whole situation really is something he's so thankful for.

"This is Lilly," he says weakly, nodding his head down at her whining. You smile immediately and without thought, stepping forward to get a closer look at the small baby, only two weeks old and already giving her dad a run for his money. "Hello Lilly," you coo softly, raising your hand to stroke her cheek with your finger in the most gentle manner he's ever seen. "Can I? I feel like I've missed out on two weeks worth of aunt (y/n) cuddles."

He tries not to think much into the fact you refer to yourself as her aunt because if he lets enough thought onto it, he'll find himself breaking his heart over you all over again. Ben nods, passing her into your arms carefully.

"I'll feed her, I made some pizza for you so you should go eat." You hold our your hand to take the bottle from him, but he frowns. "I-" Ben stutters, "I don't want to just lump you with her, plus she's upset so I shouldn't leave her y'know? It's not fair on-"

"Go and eat Ben, and have a shower while you're at it. We'll be fine in here, I've babysat a million times before." You shrug, taking the bottle from him as you step further into the nursery instead of standing in the doorway cradling the still whimpering little girl in her pink onesie. "But I-"

"Go."

"I should-"

"Ben go, now."

Ben sighs in defeat and turns on his heel, the rumbling of his stomach finally giving him away as he realises just how hungry and smelly he actually is. No wonder the infant was crying in his hold.

He trudges downstairs, hearing the sounds of those winging dying down as he does, half expecting to walk into the messy swamp he had left when he went upstairs earlier this morning, only to see the whole bottom floor of the house was basically as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, bar the baby variety adjustments he had made to welcome the new arrival.

He makes a mental note to thank you more and do some grovelling and apologising later on. He knows he has to do it and he knows he'll explain in more detail what really happened probably later today, but for now he will scoff that pizza down his throat faster than he has ever consumed a meal in all of his life before raining the cupboards that he discovered you had stocked. He is reminded with every step he takes around his house that this is you, again, here holding him up when the world around him feels like its completely crumbled.

This is what you do, you keep him together, fix him up after the heartbreaks and breakups preparing him for the next girl who's pieces you'll have to pick up when they hurt him. This time he doesn't want another girl, he wants you. This time, the one time that he would be miles too late. He's got a baby now that he needs to focus on and he can't imagine that you're going to want an instant family even if you could really see past the fact he had ghosted you for nearly five straight months from the moment he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. He can't forgive himself, so how on earth would you?

If he would ask, you would tell him you already had. Seeing how hurt he was, how genuinely sorry things had ended dup like this with everyone in his life he was was enough for you. It was enough to cause you actual physical pain. You never could hold a grudge considering the situation he had ended up in.

Ben had never ever once in his life being more thankful for his shower. He’s also pretty sure he fell asleep against the wall with the heat of the shower steam loosening his muscles and the fatigue of barely an hours sleep catching up to him. He towel dries off his hair, letting the towel hang around his neck as he rubs it against his head while he pads along the soft carpet of his hallway from the bedroom to his beautifully done pink nursery where he hears no crying, at all.

But he does here soft talking.

“Giving your daddy a hard time eh, pretty girl.” You hum softly, slowly swaying from side to side. She lays in your arms, looking up at you and stealing every bit of your heart with her daddies eyes. “He deserves it a little, you know. Just ‘cause he done me out of some adorable baby cuddles y’know?” Ben can hear the teasing smile on your lips as he leans against the doorframe out of your sight, keeping quiet so as not to be detected. “But he’s a good man, sweet girl. One of the best, actually. And i know he’s already such a good daddy to you, he loves you so so much. Do you know that, eh?” You say quietly. Ben catches the sight of you swaying that amazed little baby who coos up at you, reaching for your finger to hold. “Mhm, and i love you too. You have no idea how loved you are.” That’s one thing Ben can agree on.

“And you might not know it now because you’re little, but i do know one thing for absolute certain; I’m always gonna be here for you, and for your daddy even if he’s as stubborn about it as they come. You’ve got to help me out though, eh sweet girl? Be good to that daddy of yours. Yeah, sleepy baby? Mhm, my sweet girl.” The way you hum, bouncing her carefully and swaying in just the right way for her to fall asleep in your arms. Ben watches you for only a minute more, softly singing a little lullaby to her that makes Ben’s heart swell to ache so much that he has to take a small little video before he heads off downstairs with one last look.

When you finally greet him downstairs with a tight hug that he sinks into immediately, resting his cheek on your shoulder as your hands massage your fingers through his freshly cleaned hairs as his arms hug around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He admits, words muffled by your sweatshirt. The feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck makes him hum in content and sink into you peacefully just like his baby daughter did not half an hour ago. You’re just perfect for them both in every way and there is not one bone in his body that doesn’t wish he had started his family with you.

But with that realisation comes one more; that he will not settle until he has given everything he has, tried with every morsel of him to earn your forgiveness. He might not of started his family with you, but he is damn determined to make you part of it.

[viperbarnes]

The Tie That Binds – [One of Eight]

[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]

Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.

You know that they made him do all those things, that James 'Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him. But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.

Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.

<- Prev / Next ->

Nothing felt real until you saw him again.

It was as if ever since 2015, you’d been living your life in some kind of limbo, nothing mattered, the same old routine day in and day out. The world seems to move in slow motion around you, everything slightly lagging behind.

Like you can only see in black and white.

Like you were numb.

And then all of a sudden, in one brilliant flash of light everything speeds up, colour blinds you and the numbness disappears, replaced instead by pure, unadulterated fear.

He walks slowly down the hallway of doors, his eyes locked on yours like he knew you’d be here, knew exactly when to catch you. That in itself sets off a million other fears in your brain, and no matter how many times you’d gone through this scenario in your head, how many times you’d stayed up formulating a plan for escape, you can’t seem to move. Your body is frozen in place, the only movement available to you is the shake in your hands as he gets closer and closer.

You can’t even seem to cry.

He stops several feet away, looking for all the world like he wanted to be anywhere but here, but he squares his shoulders anyway and takes a deep breath.

“Hi.” He greets grimly, voice more nervous than you’d imagined, though deep and distinctly tainted by a Brooklyn accent you might’ve found endearing if not for everything else.

You realise suddenly that you’ve never heard him speak before.

You only stare, unblinking. He takes another deep breath and continues.

“My name is James Bucky Barnes. I am no longer the Winter Soldier–”

The mention of him, the name itself, makes you drop the thick set of keys and the small stack of letters you hold, sending them clattering to the floor. He stops speaking and blinks down at them, then back at you, before he crouches down to collect them.

“… And I’m here to make amends.” He stands slowly and holds out your keys and letters, lips pursed tightly as he waits for you to say something, or react at all. But you’re still staring at him, still unable to tear your eyes away until he waves the items, making your keys jingle a bit, and you snap out of it.

“I’m sorry.” He says, seemingly sincerely, but your voice is gone, and you can only nod as you carefully, hesitantly, take your things back from him, thankful when he steps back again. He stares at you with a sad frown, and you want so desperately to open your mouth and to say something, anything, but you just can’t.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and takes another step back.

“I’m… I’m going to go home now.” He tells you pointedly, and you can only nod once more. He turns his back and begins to walk.

You take that moment to shakily shove your key into the lock, quickly heaping yourself inside and slamming closed the door.

Making sure you lock your door once again, you can’t stop the sobs that wrack your body, sliding down the heavy wood and curling yourself into a ball.

You don’t hear him stop at the end of the hallway, you don’t hear the way he curses under his breath.

-

You laugh wildly and wave off your friends, shaking your head as you enter your apartment building. Even as the doors shut you can still hear them talking and laughing loudly as they return to their own buildings, but let the first peaceful sounds of quiet hit you as you jab the button for the elevator and make your way up to your place.

The alcohol buzzing through your veins amplifies reality and you ponder what an odd sensation it is to be so cognisant of yourself when you’re finally alone after a night of being surrounded by others. You lean heavily against the elevator wall and pull your graduation cap from your head when you realise you’re still wearing it.

It wasn’t the first time you’d graduated, but it was the last.

Excitement bubbles in you once again as you exit the lift onto your floor, all the possibilities and futures that lay before you making you feel unstoppable. You were going to be big, the things you were going to do were going to be big and now that you were fully and properly accredited, you couldn’t wait to prove to the world what you could do.

You unlock your apartment door on the third try, and stumble as you throw your cap and purse on the counter. Tomorrow you would call back Stark Industries and formally accept their offer, but for now, you needed water, a shower and bed. In that order.

You don’t bother turning on the lights in your apartment as you stumble through it, moving for your bathroom, however, when you reach the main hallways that lead to your bedroom, you pause and frown, switching the light next to you on as you stare down the passage.

You could have sworn you’d shut your bedroom door… In fact, you’d made a point of it before you’d left that morning… but here it was, wide open, and even swinging slightly like it were caught in a breeze.

In your drunken haze, you only frown deeper and move further down the hall, tiptoeing as quietly as you could, as if you were going to catch a ghost or an intruder off guard, but when you reach the doorway and switch the light on, you’re greeted by nothing.

A breath of anxiety leaves your lungs. It had been a busy morning, you could have easily forgotten that you’d gone back in after you’d shut it.

You relax, and kick it open further, shuffling forward before closing it behind you, but it stalls, refusing to click into place. A little frustrated now, you push on it harder, looking down at your floor to make sure there was nothing stopping it from shutting, but everything was clear. With an annoyed growl, you tear the door open again, intending to inspect the door frame itself, but you’re stunned frozen.

A man stands before you, completed shadowed in black, all but his eyes covered. You don’t even have time to react, you open your mouth to scream, but his hand shoots out, grabbing your jaw, the noise dying out before you can even make it.

Your body trembles, tries to back away, tries to run but he already has you, a grip stronger than what seemed real pulling you by where he holds you.

“Pack only essentials.” His voice is monotone and dark, and from his free hand, he throws a black duffle bag at your feet between you. His words left no room for argument, no terms for negotiation and yet your inebriated mind throws this out the window. You manage to latch onto the nearest item, a small lamp on the cupboard next to you, and with strength you didn’t know you had, you smash the thing into the side of the man’s head.

He releases you, hissing, and you run, somehow past him, your sloppy, drunken movements tamed somewhat by the adrenaline coursing through you.

You make it to your kitchen, to your purse and your phone, but then he’s there, hand grabbing yours and squeezing so hard your phone breaks under his grip. Intense and unrivalled pain lances through your fingers and palm, joined by a strange burning sensation. You become acutely aware of the snapping sound of bones until he lets go.

“Do not run.” He warns, though it sounds more like a threat, and with his body now bearing down over yours, and the pain in your hand, you lash out with your other, trying to push him away, maybe injure his eyes. Your fingers catch on something hard though, and you only manage to dislodge his mask, revealing his full face to you.

You don’t know or recognise him, and there was something so cold and unfeeling about his expression despite the situation you were in that makes your skin crawl. It was like the lights were on but nobody was home, like his brain was completely disconnected from his body and actions, right up until his eyes narrow, and he lifts a fist.

You can’t help but glance at the appendage before it crashes into your face, something catching your eye about it as the moonlight pouring in from your living room window hits it, and you realise, it was silver.

The last thing you remember before he knocks you out is the strange, but all-too-familiar whirring of a mechanical arm.

You wake up with a start, air trying to claw its way out of your lungs desperately. Your wide eyes search the room, and momentarily you see nothing but four grey walls, slowly closing in on you, before your senses begin to return, and your familiar bedroom fades through the nightmarish vision.

Sounds of the city waking up outside serve to ground you, and you slump back against your pillows for a few seconds, allowing your breathing and heart rate to calm down before you peel yourself out of bed slowly, cringing at the way your hair sticks to your clammy, sweaty skin.

The cold Brooklyn morning is comforting to you, and although you’d usually sleep longer than this on a work night, you know you won’t be going back to bed any time soon. You make your way to your small, cramped bathroom and switch the lights on, quickly discarding your clothes.

When you reach for the tap, you pause, eyes fixated on your hand, the one you hand remember clear as day being all but crushed in his grip. It had healed, but the broken bones weren’t the worst of it.

They’d taken your soulmark.

You don’t know why they did, you guess it had something to do with making sure there were no loose ends as far as your abduction went. They’d cut the mark from your hand, burned the wound, until it healed into just a lump of scarred, white skin.

Out of all the things they’d taken from you, it was this that hurt the most. They’d taken everything and left you with nothing, not even that which you were fated for. Knowing that somewhere out there, your soulmate would be waiting, wondering where you were, but you’d never be able to find them, never be able to know for sure if they were the one...

The first blasts of cold water shock the thoughts from your mind, and you immerse yourself, basking in the feeling against your hot skin, before the water finally begins heating, fogging up the room.

You take a deep breath and force yourself to close your eyes, leaning your forehead against the white tile.

“They’re gone. You’re free, and they’re gone…” You begin repeating softly, the familiar mantra only just audible over the running water.

You hadn’t had a nightmare in months, not one so vivid anyway, not one that made sense, that was more a memory playing itself back than a dream. You didn’t sleep well as a rule, but normally your bad dreams consisted of other things.

You know it’s not a coincidence, not when he’d shown up at your door a week ago.

You knew he was innocent. You knew that. He’d been brainwashed and tortured and he was innocent… But that didn’t make everything you’d experienced less real. Coming to terms with the fact he wasn’t some monster was hard when all you wanted was someone to hate.

You suppose you just never thought you’d ever see him again in the flesh.

It was easier to fear the memory of something, but when it showed up at your door, apologising and wishing to make amends…

Despite your best efforts, you can’t stop thinking about him. What had he meant about making amends? Why had he sought you out after so long? What did he want?

Maybe that’s why when he shows up at your door again, you aren’t so terrified.

He definitely gives you a fright, but no more than anyone would seeing as you’d opened your front door just as he’d raised a fist to knock on it. A momentary flash of fear makes your eyes widen, but you’re rather surprised when it seems to pass over you, settling down into something more like unease.

For his part, Barnes looks a little bewildered, like he’d been caught out, and you wonder briefly, with no small amount of discomfort, how long he’d been standing there.

You both stare at each other, until he finally forces open his mouth and speaks.

“I can go, if you want,” He blurts, eyes darting over your features quickly, but always returning to your eyes.

“But I just came to ask if there’s anything I can do for you?” He nods slightly after speaking, as if he’d been practising the words and had delivered them just as intended.

You blink at him, completely taken aback, but somehow managing to find your voice this time. Is this what he’d meant by ‘making amends’?.

“I… I don’t know…?” You shuffle from one foot to the other.

“My… My friend told me that I should seek out people I hurt… to be ‘of service’.” He tells you quickly, as if he suddenly felt the need to explain himself. Honestly, it’s helpful, helping you put together more pieces of whatever the hell this puzzle was.

“You didn’t hurt me.” You say carefully, trying not to sound like you’d been practicing. You see his brow furrow, and his lips pull into a thin line.

“HYD– They were the ones who did it…” You take a deep breath, adjusting your hold on your reusable shopping bags. His eyes flicker to them briefly, but are back on your face in a blink.

“I read about you… after, I mean… I know you weren’t…” You lift a hand and tap your temple, though immediately cringe.

Barnes lips quirk, but any semblance of a smile disappears soon after, his eyes turning strangely soulful. With his haircut and altogether more well-kept look, it was hard to see why you’d been so scared of him the other day… he didn’t even look like the same person anymore.

“Sure. But I still did those things… I still owe you.”

You stare at each other again for a long while, almost like you were both just reacquainting yourselves with what you looked like. You weren’t exactly put-together yourself right now, but you can’t imagine you look any worse than when you were a literally prisoner of HYDRA.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” He asks again a moment later, and you suddenly remember that you were standing in your doorway, disrupted in your task.

“I– I don’t know, I’m sorry, I have to go,” You shake your head, and attempt to dismiss him for now. The store was only open for another hour before your shift started.

“I need to get my groceries before the shop closes.”

Barnes steps back, gives you plenty of room as you pull your door shut behind you, locking it securely. But when you turn back to him, his face seems to have perked up. It’s odd to see on him, honestly.

“I can carry them for you.”

You stare at one another again, and you find for some reason you can’t say no.

Perhaps you just wanted to see the former Winter Soldier carry your groceries.

The thought almost makes you laugh.

Not as much as seeing him trail behind you in the aisles does. You wonder if your sudden ease at his presence is similar to the ease you have when there’s a spider in your bathroom… You don’t want it around exactly, but if you’ve got your eyes on it, at least you know where it is.

You keep to your short list of needs, mostly trying to ignore the fact that this was very, very strange all things considered, and when you’ve finished and gone through the checkout, he grabs all six of your bags and waits for you to lead the way.

“Do you… do you live in the city?” You can’t help but ask him on the walk back. He looks at you, almost surprised, but nods, and averts his gaze again.

“In Bed-Stuy.”

It’s your turn to be surprised.

“That’s only a couple of blocks. I’ve never seen you around before.” You marvel. He doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes trained to the pavement.

“I know.”

Silence falls between you again, and prevails until you reach your building.

“Thanks. This has been… weird.” You tell him truthfully, watching how his lips quirk in that almost-smile again. He hands you your bags of groceries and then looks about.

“You do this every Thursday?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“No, I just forgot all week, and I really needed milk.”

He hums under his breath, frowning slightly again as he digs into his pocket and pulls out a small notepad. You watch him scribble something on a page, before he rips it out and holds it out to you.

“That’s my number… if you ever need anything, call me. I’ll come.” Barnes says seriously. Nodding, you reach out to gingerly pluck the paper from his fingers, but he keeps a hold of it for a moment longer, locking eyes with you.

“Anything.” He reiterates. Swallowing, you nod again, and he releases the page.

“Thanks, uh–”

“–Bucky… Please just call me Bucky.”

You watch him with a strange feeling filling your chest as he shoves his hands deep in his pockets and steps away from you. It takes you a few seconds to build up the courage to actually say his name.

“Thanks, Bucky.”

---

Bucky waits until you’ve disappeared inside your apartment building before he quickly pulls his hands from his pockets, hissing in discomfort as he finally attends to the searing, itching burn that had suddenly begun attacking his soulmark.

A few good scratches does the trick, but it leaves him with an entirely different sensation.

Bucky stares up at your apartment building, despair and dread settling deep in his belly. Realisation spurns on a hundred memories, a hundred memories now with a new context, a worse context, and Bucky feels completely nauseous.

You were his soulmate.

And HYDRA had made you afraid of him.

If you enjoyed, a comment or reblog would be greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading!

[realcube]

HQ BOYS REACT TO YOU FAKE CRYING  

characters ♡ yaku, kenma, kayegama & iwaizumi 

content warning ♡ fake crying, mentions of murder, hurt/comfort, fluff & timeskip! iwaizumi (no mature themes, just domesticity)

credit ♡ thank you to 🍦anon for this request

morinosuke yaku

♡ why did you need to need to practise in the bedroom?? in his bedroom, no less

♡ your show was quickly approaching and you recalled the scene where you were to burst out into tears on stage, and you hadn’t yet rehearsed how you were going to do that

♡ honestly, you were under the assumtion that yaku would have no problem with you practising while in his bedroom bc he has ran lines with you in the past and this was hardly any different

♡ so sat, thinking about the most horrible, morbid, grotesque things you possible could, all while keeping your eyes wide open and not blinking so soon enough, the tears started rolling

♡ proud of yourself, you smirked before burying your face into your hands; now to add sobs!

♡ it started out with mere snivels but then as you got more confident, it built up to full on bawls which were loud enough to gain yaku’s attention from the kitchen

♡ he was quick to rush over to his bedroom, his soul audibly leaving his body when he saw your upset weeping figure on the bed

♡ he basically pounced on you and engulfed you with his embrace, ‘dear! what’s wrong? are you alright? who hurt you?!’ the questions were fast falling off his tongue as cradled your head, leaving no room for you to speak without being muffled by his chest or arms

♡ and when he noticed that you were trying to speak, he simply hushed you, ‘shh! it’s okay, dearest.’ and continued to whisper ‘comforting’ stuff like that in your ear 

♡ he thought he was helping but really he was just preventing you from getting you point across

♡ eventually, you managed to escape his steel grip and gasp, ‘yaku! i’m fine! look — no tears!” you gestured to you damp cheek, “i was just practising for my role! i’m not actually sad. though, it’s cute that you care so mu--”

♡ as soon as yaku heard the word ‘practising’ he immediately recalled how you mention you have a sad scene where you need to cry and his natural reflex was to lean backwards, grab a massive teddy bear that sat behind him which he had won at a carnival for you but you insisted that he keep it bc you didn’t want to carry it home

♡ ...and he threw it straight at you, causing you to fall backwards and burst out laughing at how you were currently being straddled by a big teddy bear 

♡ ‘(y/n)! i thought you were hurt! you can’t just fake cry without telling me first- i was so worried! like i thought it was real and--’ this went on for an elongated amount of time, yaku ranting while you added a faint ‘sorry!’ whenever you saw the opportunity 

♡ eventually, he stopped only to take a deep breath, visibly calming doing as his chest heaved, ‘alright. what’s done is done; it’s fine. you worried me though, (y/n). i thought you were being for real, what then?’

♡ you nodded, smiling at his softened expression as your lips twisted into a smirk at his final comment. cocking a brow, you purred, ‘so...you think i’m a good actor? tha--’

♡ pow! another plushie to the face! K.O! 

kenma kuzome 

♡ as a joke, you dabbed water under your eyes a few times so you could send your friend a snap of you ‘crying’ and ofc kenma had to walk in at exactly the wrong time 

♡ you were over at his house, chilling on his couch while he was upstairs talking to kuroo over the phone— he said he’d only be a moment but almost half an hour had passed and he still showed no sign of coming back downstairs, though you couldn’t blame him as kuroo does have a tendency to be overly descriptive when spilling tea

♡ anyway, as soon as you had sent your snap, you placed your phone down and scanned the room in search of some tissues to wipe you eyes with, when kenma barged in 

♡ ‘hey, (y/n). i’m sorry that took so lo--’ when his gaze shifted from his phone onto you, sitting on the couch with tears streaming down your cheeks, he immediately cut himself off

♡ at first, you were frozen, simply staring at each other; as if he had just walked in on you committing a violent act of homicide in his living room 

♡ honestly you were too stunned to move at first but if you could, you’d probably say something along the lines of ‘this isn’t what it looks like’ but before you could even open your mouth, kenma edged towards you until he was able to outstretch his arms and wrap you in his warm embrace 

♡ with your cheek pressed against his warm hoodie, basking in an uncommon blissful silence, you postponed your explanation until you were finished enjoyed how his nimble fingers caressed your back

♡ you hummed, your lips curling a smile at how comfortable you felt in his arms and how nice his hoodie smelt, since it usually reeked of an unholy mixture of body spray and monster energy 

♡ he planted a kiss upon your head, murmuring into your hair, ‘baby, what’s wrong?’ 

♡ you were quick to swipe away your ‘tears’ with the back of your hand, ‘i’m fine, don’t worry.” you chirped, beaming at him to reinforce this point, ‘it’s just water, for a silly video i sent to my friends.’

♡ kenma blinked rapidly, staring down at your seemingly genuine smile

♡ honestly, you expected him to tease you or be irritated that you made him reveal a hidden soft side of himself for no reason, since he’s usually quite private with his emotions 

♡ but instead, the corners of his lips just lifted into a slight smile as pushed your head back against his chest, then resting his head upon yours, ‘oh, that’s cool.’ he breathed, his warm, calming voice causing your eyelids to become heavy — that and the fact you had went on a run not too long ago

♡ kenma felt your eyes flutter shut against his chest so he slowly leaned backwards, holding you against his hoodie as he laid down, allowing himself to doze off with you snuggled up on his heaving torso 

hajime iwaizumi

♡ you were making iwaizumi dinner, cutting onions and cooking curry

♡ so it was not surprising when tears started brimmed at your eyes, eventually slipping from your lashline and trickling down the soft skin of your cheeks, leaving you to blink rapidly to lubricate your burning eyes

♡ iwaizumi had just came out the shower, he had dried off but when he came downstairs and peered into the kitchen, he was wearing just a towel which was draped around his hips, ‘mm, something smells good. whatcha cookin’, baby?’

♡ he didn’t plan on staying downstairs for long, which is why he didn’t throw on a shirt; all he wanted to do was get to the bottom of what that magnificent aroma was that he smelled from upstairs, then once he figured it out, he’d go back upstairs, get changed, then head back down for dinner 

♡ but his plan was cut short when he noticed crystalline tears pouring from your red, puffy eyes 

♡ without thinking or taking into consideration why your eyes are red, his immediate reaction was to dash over to your side and slip his arms around your waist, puling you in so that one of your hands had no choice but to rest on his back while the other continued to stir the pot

♡ noticing that your watery eyes were still fixated on the curry, he took your chin inbtween his fingers and forced you to cook at him, ‘why’s my angel crying? hm?’ he cooed, features painted with genuine worry and concern

♡ you lifted a brow, stifling a chuckle at how silly he was being, ‘what do you mean?’

♡ before you could process anything else, iwaizumi bought you in for a passionate kiss with the his hand pressing against the small of your back, only pulling away so he could rest his head on your shoulder and hum into your ear, ‘you can tell me anything, angel, so what’s on your mind?’

♡ you bottom lip quivered at his intimate action — you might just start crying for real 

♡ biting your bottom lip, you resisted your tears and forced out a laugh, ‘what’s on my mind? well,’ you started, momentarily letting go of the ladle so you could hug back, ‘i have to make dinner for my himbo husband, but the onions and spices are burning my eyes. pray for me, iwa.’

♡ it took him a moment to register what you just said. he’d been in the kitchen many times so by now he was basically immune to the way onions and spices affect the eyes, so he completely forgot that stuff like that happens. he honestly, wholeheartedly thought that you were crying real tears of sadness while making dinner

♡ he impulsively pushed you away, crossing his arms over his chest and his initial kind expression lowering into a scowl, ‘who are you calling a himbo?! i just forgot that some people have weak-ass eyes. bye.’ he spat, clearly trying his best not to laugh as he stormed off to his room, keeping a firm grip on his towel the whole time 

♡ don’t worry, though. he was back ten minutes later — fully clothed — to eat dinner with you :))

♡ but don’t mention it ever again or else he’ll blush and tell you it ever happened 

tobio kageyama 

♡ you were scrolling on your fyp and found a video of a person explaining how to cry on command and you didn’t believe it’d actually work so you tried it

♡ as it turns out, it does work and now you are sitting on your bed with tear stained cheeks and a dry throat, completely zoned out until kageyama came marching into your bedroom

♡ it was in that moment that you recalled that you had invited him over for a movie night and you had left your front door unlocked for him, hence he must’ve invited himself in

 ♡ ‘sorry i’m late, but i brought doritos.’ he spun on heels after closing the door, doritos in hand but not for long because as soon as he noticed your cheek glistening the lamplight, he instantly dropped them to rush over to you 

♡ ‘eh? (y/n)? are you crying?’ he asked with a harsh voice, which wouldn’t help if you really were crying. instinctively, he reached out for your hand and began pressing kisses to the back of it 

♡ he wasn’t really too sure on what exactly he could do or say to comfort you, so he recollected on the time you tried to cheer him up after he lost a big game. you lay beside him on his bed, humming a distant tune that matched the one playing in his ear from his earbuds. one hand threading through his hair while the other cupped his cheek so you could press occasional, soft kisses on his cheek while he set to himself. it was calming, and it definitely worked in making him feel better. usually, it’d take him months to recover after a devastating loss like that, but with you by his side and giving him support, he was back to his normal self in a couple weeks

♡ well, as normal as it gets for kageyama

♡ you gently shook your head, admiring his adorable actions and allowing his to continue as you used your spare hand to wipe away your artificial tears

♡ ‘oh, sweetie, i love you so much.’ you mused, thinking up a way to start your story without sounding foolish  

♡ but perhaps you shouldn’t have began your explanation with a term of endearment as his impulse with to promptly throw his arms around you, holding onto your torso tightly 

♡ you were taken back for moment, wheezing slightly as kageyama squeezed the air out of you but finally able to speak once he relaxed his arms, ‘tobio! nothing’s wrong, don’t worry. i was just testing to see if i could fake cry or not. i’m not actually crying.’

♡ kageyama’s eyes widened and he paled

♡ you weren’t actually in need of comfort? then why did he just get all soft? for nothing?

♡ ‘no.’ was his simple response which he punctuated with another kiss on the back of your hand

♡ you couldn’t help but giggle, taking advantage of this opperuntiy to reach out and ruffle his hair, ‘yes. i’m seriously okay. i’m happy, actually, because i get to spend my evening watching movies with you!’

♡ surprisngly, he didn’t glare at you for messing up his hair — since it was already untidy — and just took a seat beside you, keeping ahold of your hand as if it was a fragile gem, ‘i don’t believe you.’

♡ you laughed, realising that he was clearly making excuses for openly showing affection and being soft so you just let him, hopping to your feet and tugging your hand away from him so you could grab the doritos he dropped, ‘whatever you say, tobio.’

♡ he pouted but it was only brief as he was soon able to take your hand once more, ‘yeah..’ he grunted, averting his eyes so you didn’t see the blush creeping onto his cheeks, ‘whatever, just put on the stupid movie...stupid (y/n)...i love you..’

[mourntheantagonist]

Smut prompt!!! ( from your recent post!)

Billy has a thing for being held down. He’s been pushing steve around the school all day, trying to get a rise out of him and it WORKS- It starts out hostilely but turns into something much steamier ending in the blonde being fucked.

ABSOLUTELY!! ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY!!

cw: rough sex

***

“From here on out you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?”

He said yes. He said he understood. But did he really?

What Billy understood of Max’s demands, was really just what she meant. She meant for him to keep his fists to himself, not to hurt any one of them, including Steve, and that, he understood that. But what Billy needed was for Steve to hit him. He needed for him to fucking fight back, throw another punch his way to level out the playing field. He needed for Steve to break his nose, split his lip, just do fucking something other than hang his head low and continue to avoid him like the goddamn plague.

So Billy didn’t leave him alone like Max had demanded. He teased, he pushed his buttons, he fouled him during basketball practice and shut off his shower head, he hid his gym clothes and stole his towel off the rack. Anything to just get a rise out of him.

But Steve just takes it. He never does anything more than roll his eyes and say “Hargrove” like it’s a slur. But Billy can also see how he’s beginning to wear Steve down, little by little, getting closer and closer to fucking exploding.

Until he does. After an entire scrimmage game where Billy fouled Steve enough times that he was ejected, followed up by an already pissed off Steve having his towel ripped from the rack for probably the fifteenth time that month. Steve had had enough, and promptly pushed Billy up against the shower walls with more force than he would have anticipated. Steve took him by the wrists and shoved a knee into the back of his thigh until Billy was fully pinned to the wall and completely immobilized.

“Cut that shit out Hargrove.” Steve said, in a low and husky voice directly into his ear, the heat of his breath making the inside of Billy’s head buzz. The bones in Steve palms dug deep into Billy’s wrists, and when he let go, Billy nearly fell to the floor. His legs felt like jelly and he refused to turn around from where he was facing the wall as everyone crowded around and laughed, congratulating a Steve who pushed past everyone after retrieving his stolen towel. Meanwhile, Billy’s still not turning around until all of the other guys have scattered away.

Because he’s fucking hard.

He could still feel Steve’s hands on his wrists on the drive back home, red all around the circumference. He could still smell him, all up in his space pressing his entire weight into the wall leaving him completely motionless. He needed more. He needed that again.

So he kept pushing. He kept pushing despite Steve’s warnings, because to Billy, it was a fucking promise.

Except this time around it was different, because he tried to do it when no one else was around. He fucked with the shower head just enough so that it was just the two of them left to occupy the boys locker room after hours. Naked, dripping wet, horny…

And Steve, absolutely fired up.

“Don’t think I won’t do it again asshole.” Steve said as he dried himself off with a towel, still undressed, and Billy didn't know where he got the nerve to steal a look so obviously at the brunette as he toweled off his hips, biting his lower lip. That was just the first step in a series of bold, and honestly, stupid moves out of Billy, because next thing he knew he had one hand latched on to Steve’s towel.

“Don’t think I don’t want you to.”

You could hear a pin drop to the floor with just how silent the room got. Steve just stared at Billy who still had his hand firmly gripping the corner of the towel, waiting for Steve to give, to let up on his own grip just enough for Billy to yank it from his possession and drop it to the floor.

Steve was still, unmoving, and the awkward silence was deafening, so after already sealing his fate, he said what he wanted, made it clear.

“Pin me. Take whatever you want from me.” Billy said, tugging on the towel a little harder, but Steve’s grip that hadn’t given.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Steve’s eyes were narrowing in on him, like maybe, just maybe, Billy struck a bit of a nerve.

Billy tugged on the towel again. “Pin me up against those lockers.”

Steve tugged back.

“Yeah? Then what?” Steve asked.

Billy tugged again. “Punch me...” Steve tugged back, but Billy tugged again, harder. “Fuck me…”

Steve let go, and the towel fell to the floor in slow motion, all dramatic like it was straight out of a movie scene. Billy moved to close the distance between them a little more, chests nearly touching and each other’s breaths able to be felt on their faces. “Whatever you want.”

Not a second passed before Billy found his cheek smashed up against the door of his locker and Steve’s entire naked body up against his back. They were pressed so close together that he could feel Steve’s heart as it beat through his chest, along with his shaky breathing, right in his ear. Steve’s hands were back at his wrists in the same exact spot they were the last time, pressing them firmly into the locker, almost hard enough it might leave a small dent in the metal.

Steve was clearly hesitant, his hands still firmly placed where they were, and his breathing only growing more uneven. Billy might have thought Steve might choose the “punch me” option if it weren’t for the fact that his dick was right up against his ass, clearly just as excited as he was. Steve was still nervous, and all that meant was that he just needed a little bit more encouraging taunting.

“Go ahead pretty boy, fuck me like you hate me.”

That was enough for Steve’s hands to finally move, to trail down the length of his arms and down his back with the same bruising force the whole way down, like a deep tissue massage that he’d surely still feel later on.

Steve’s hands trailed all the way down to his ass where he squeezed hard, let out a heavy breath, and paused right there, cupping his cheeks and spreading them apart.

“Fuck,” Steve swears, “what the fuck are we doing?!” Steve slams his fist against the lockers hard, the sound of metal echoing off the tile walls and the vibrations buzzing in Billy’s head.

Billy laughed. “My duffel. Condom, lube, it’s all in there…”

Steve gives Billy a good push into the lockers before walking over to the duffel on the floor and pulling the two aforementioned items out of the bag’s side pocket. He held up the golden foil and small bottle of aloe vera and just stared at them.

“Did you come prepared for this?” Steve asked, it was an accusation.

“This was the plan all along pretty boy, let’s just say I was hopeful.” Billy said as he shifted his feet on the floor so his legs were spread further. “Now quit fucking stalling!”

Steve made his way back over and without warning, introduced an aloe coated finger to his hole that slipped right in, but Billy still gasped.

“Hurry up Harrington! I’m already stretched and ready, fuck me with your dick!” Billy snarled, and threw his hips backwards into Steve.

Steve skipped over a second finger and went straight up to three, while with the help of his free hand and his teeth, he opened up the condom and slipped it over his cock.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, but it was quickly followed by another slam on the locker doors, this time from Billy.

“Quit treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!” Billy shouted, “Hold me down and take what you fucking want!”

Almost instantly, Billy was pushed right back into the wall of lockers and Steve’s fingers had abruptly left their place from inside of him, leaving him with an empty feeling that was quickly relieved by the feeling of something much larger right at his entrance.

Steve’s hands were on him, but they were hardly applying any force, Billy could easily slip through it and that was the exact opposite of what he wanted from him.

“Hold me down while you fuck me!”

Steve responded to that by finally thrusting inside of him and pushing his hands even deeper into his shoulder blades. Billy let out a short moan upon impact, but still wriggled his body unsatisfied.

“Harder!”

Steve didn’t know which part he was talking about, so he responded to both, thrusting in even harder and deeper and pushing his hands down even more.

“More!” Billy demanded, with a maniacal laugh that enraged Steve, and he grew more and more pissed off as Billy continued to squirm around trying to get out of his grip.

“Stop fucking moving!”

“Make me!” Billy yelled. “Fucking make me!”

Steve doesn’t know whether it was the anger, or Billy’s own demands that caused him to bring his hand up to the side of Billy’s head and shove him right into the wall of lockers so that his cheek was firmly smashed against them. Billy’s brain rattled inside of his skull as the force of his head made contact with the metal. He could taste blood on the inside of his mouth where his teeth must have cut, and he didn’t mind, because that’s exactly what he wanted.

“Perfect.” He said, settling any nerves Steve might have had thinking he fucked up with that move. “Now fuck me already.”

Steve didn’t remove his hand from where it was pushing into the side of Billy’s head, all tangled up in with his still wet hair, and his other hand was gripping his bicep, leaving finger shaped bruises as he pushed him hard against the lockers.

Billy was completely immobile as Steve thrusted into him, and his moans and groans were entirely uncensored and bounced off the walls in a chorus coupled with Steve’s own, that were more slicked and held back than his. Steve’s entire body weight was leaning into him and his face found a place to rest just above his shoulder, behind his head where he couldn’t see him, but only feel the heat of his breath against the back of his neck. With just that alone, Billy could feel his own dick twitch and begin to leak with pre and drip to the tile floor that was already infested with athletes foot.

Steve’s breath grew heavier, loud and hot against Billy’s skin, and what Steve did to stop his own panting was to secure his lips around the sensitive skin of Billy’s neck, and Billy gasped, and nearly stopped breathing all together and Steve gently bit down.

“Fuck!” Billy swore, his voice at a loud whisper.

He couldn’t see it, but he knew Steve had a smug fucking grin on his face.

“You like that Hargrove?”

“Shut the fuck up Harrington!”

Steve just laughed and picked up his pace, back to his heavy breathing against his neck, the heat on his wet skin making Billy shiver. He could already tell he wouldn’t last much longer.

But Steve was the first to speak up.

“Ah, I’m gonna fucking cum!” Steve said it like it was a moment of defeat, which made Billy wonder how long it usually took for Steve to reach climax with all those other girls he bragged about taking to bed. But Billy wasn’t one to talk, because he was right there with him.

“Fuck, me too.”

Steve removed the hand that was at Billy’s shoulder, and Billy was about to start complain, but then the same hand found itself wrapped right around Billy’s cock, thumb grazing over the tip with a gentle touch that drastically differed from the still strong force that was Steve’s other hand still pressing into his skull. Billy let out an embarrassingly loud moan as he nearly instantly finished directly into Steve’s hand, but the moan was almost drowned out by Steve’s voice which matched his volume as he filled up the condom from inside Billy after a final slam directly into his prostate, and Steve finally at that moment let up of the force against Billy’s head.

And Billy nearly fell directly to the floor. He couldn’t feel his own fucking legs anymore.

Steve fell backwards into one of the benches behind them, sitting his bare naked ass right on the seat as his whole body slumped forward. He pulled the condom off of his dick with a hand coated in a mixture of lube and Billy’s come.

Billy still hadn’t turned around, all of that confidence he had at the start just washing away in an instant, afraid to face Steve. Nothing started to hurt until it was actually over, and that pain was largely not even physical.

And Steve noticed that. He noticed how Billy’s entire mood changed. Just silent with his face and hands still plastered up against those locker doors like he was holding on for dear life.

Steve wiped his hand off on that towel that dropped to the floor at the whole start of it, and got back up from where he was seated on the locker room bench. He walked up to Billy and placed a firm, but not forceful hand up to Billy’s shoulder where he could already see the redness forming itself into a bruise.

“Hey.” Steve said, his voice soft.

Billy let out a long and heavy breath, like he had been holding it up until the moment Steve spoke. Steve gently turned Billy around to face him, removing him from the lockers he was practically glued to, and did something that was uninvited.

He gently traced his fingers down the length of Billy’s jaw, and when no effort was made to step back or lean away, he kissed him. Gentle on the lips where he could taste the blood on the inside of Billy’s mouth, something he didn’t really want to think too long and hard about. Billy closed his eyes and leaned into it. It was soft and sweet and completely unlike the rough and bruising fuck they just had, and that was the missing piece.

The feeling of Steve’s hands gripping his body and the sight of the bruises he left afterwards stopped feeling like a pain, but a reminder, a good fucking reminder that didn’t last nearly long enough.

But one thing he remembered was that old demand from his little sister back in November. To leave Steve alone. But if ignoring that demand was going to deliver this kind of promise, Billy doesn’t think he’ll be listening to that one any time soon.

[bcdwhcre]

“Lies & Affairs,” Pt 3 Levi x Reader

Since it’s been requested so many timesssss

Summary: After Levi found out Petra (his gf) cheated on him, he sleeps with you and you overthinking he’ll run back to Petra— you go to support him while he confronts her.

Warnings: confrontation that turns into smut oop

PART ONE

PART TWO

.

.

.

After the shower, Levi had decided to go back to his own place considering he had no change of clothes and Petra was sitting in there like she owned the place and that had made him a little more pissed off than usual.

He asked you to tag along and at first you didn’t want to, who would want to go confront Levi’s girlfriend after just sleeping with him. But he had convinced you that he needed some support and you gave in.

The way your hands started to get shaky as you both walked into his place, looking around at the clean area and Levi had laughed at the fact that the clothing that was scattered before was now gone like nothing ever happened.

“Levi is that you?” Petra had walked out of the kitchen, stopping when she saw Levi then you standing behind him.

“What happened? You didn’t come home, I was worried.” She put on the sweet little act and that had made him tense up a bit, another laugh leaving his lips.

“We need to sit down and talk first.” He gestures towards the kitchen table, leading you to it and you sat beside him.

You did not want to be here right now, you felt completely awkward at the fact you were a third wheel.. kinda like a side chick while he yells at his girlfriend for cheating. It wasn’t the most romantic situation.

“About what?” She spoke, her eyes had moved to look at you and she was genuinely confused as to why you were even here.

“Kinda over playing dumb, Petra. Who did you sleep with last night?” He abruptly said, making your eyes go wide and you tried to look at anything other than them two.

“Wait.. what?”

“I said I’m over playing dumb, who the fuck was in my bed with you last night?” He asked again, leaning towards the table as he rested his arms on it, the look of amusement on his face.

“Nobody? I was here alone.”

“Yeah, right and I wasn’t deep in Y/N’s guts just an hour ago either huh?”

The way your eyes almost popped out of their sockets, glaring over at Levi and Petra had glared at you. Suddenly the tension grew thicker and you were very close to getting up and walking out of here. You didn’t sign up for this mess.

“I came here last night, clothes everywhere and noises coming from the room. You’re telling me that was just you?” He laughed at the stupid excuse, her eyes looking at him and suddenly the realization had hit her.

“Oh.” She simply said, her eyes now full of sadness but he didn’t feel sorry for her- he felt nothing.

“I want you and your shit out of here, unless you want to be here while I rail her a third time.” He gestured to you beside him and you slapped his arm.

“Levi,” You warned but he was having fun with this, fun humiliating her and watching her put on this guilty act as if she regretted what she did.

“I’m sorry- just please, hear me out.”

“I’m sick of hearing you out, our relationship has been dead for months and now I want you gone, Petra. It’s over, done, never happening again. Get the fuck out of here with the bullshit apologies and tears and go to that guys doorstep you were just fucking in my bed!” His blood boiled at the sight of her tears, she wasn’t sorry, she didn’t feel bad while she was laid up with someone else and he wasn’t sorry for being harsh to her or sleeping with you.

Petra had finally shut her mouth, her eyes looking over at you and you tried not to meet her gaze as she gave you a nasty look, like she was blaming you for everything that is happening right now.

“Well, I’ll get my things.”

“Good, you have twenty minutes to get it and leave.”

Levi crossed his arms over his chest, watching her rise from the table and leave the room to go in the bedroom they once shared together but he just felt sick. He didn’t even want to sleep in that bed again, it was sickening to even think that another man had slept in his spot.

His eyes moved to yours, the look of embarrassment on your face and he sighed as he reached over to caress your cheek.

“Thank you for being here.”

“Yeah, thanks for putting our sex on blast.” You mumbled, making him laugh again and he shook his head while rubbing your cheek.

“Sorry, slipped out.” He said teasingly but you knew he brought it up on purpose, he wasn’t phased by it.

As twenty minutes went by in a heartbeat, Levi had called out for Petra to leave his place. He didn’t care if she wasn’t finished packing, he wanted her gone and she continued to cry as she walked towards the door.

“Levi,” He raised his hand to cut her off, another sarcastic laugh coming out of his mouth.

“Just please leave, I’m not in love with you and I don’t want you.” He said coldly, making her heart break into pieces but she understood, she betrayed him.

She finally walked out of the house while dragging her things. Levi shut the door, his eyes moving to yours as you stood up from the table and cleared your throat at the awkward tension.

He cupped your cheeks, instantly peppering soft kisses on your lips and around your face which made your nose scrunch your as you tried to pull away.

“Now that she’s gone,” He mumbled, his lips landing on top of yours and your face started to heat up.

“We can continue where we left off in the shower.”

“Levi, you’re so humiliating.” You laughed against his mouth, making him pull back and give you a cute genuine smile.

“So? You seem to like it.” He brushed your hair back, leaning down to pick you up with ease and force your legs to wrap around his torso.

You rolled your eyes, leaning down to press your lips back on his and you couldn’t explain why you were like this around Levi. The fact not even five minutes ago his ex lover had left his house in tears and now you were here kissing him endlessly.

He had sat you down on the edge of the kitchen table, his lips dancing with yours and in no time his tongue was inside of your mouth before he had pulled back to fully look at you again.

His fingers combing through your hair, giving you a small smile and he had tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling your face closer to pepper a few kisses around your face.

“I hope you know that you’re mine now.” He had mumbled quietly, making your eyes move down to his while hooking your arms loosely around his neck.

“Oh yeah? Since when.”

“Since today.”

“Are you trying to ask me out in a special Levi way?”

“Yes,” He said almost breathless, his eyes sparkled and stared deep into yours like he was trying to read your thoughts.

The longer you stayed quiet, the more he started to panic. Did he say something wrong? Were you going to say no?

You laughed as his face got all flustered, making his eyebrows furrow and give you a playful dirty look, you were teasing him.

“Is that a yes then?” He asked again, leaning forward between your legs as you sat there watching him lick his lips, waiting for your answer.

“Yes, Levi.” You mumbled, bringing your small hand up to his face and cupped one of his cheeks.

Your heart had swelled up, full of love and happiness and the way he smiled at you in a way he’s never done before- it made you believe he felt the exact same way.

Soon his lips were back on yours, this time he was a bit more rough with it but it still had a lot of passion behind it, making your body almost rock backwards onto the table but you held onto his body to keep you up.

Levi wasted no time to pepper kisses down your neck, not bothering to leave anymore love bites considering you had enough from yesterday underneath your shirt. He smirked to himself just by the thought of it as he placed a hand on your chest and pushed you down on the table.

“This one is about you, baby.” He said in a low tone, his hands grabbing onto your pants and yanked them down your legs in an instant.

Your stomach fluttered with butterflies as he stared down at your half naked body with admiration, it made your cheeks heat up the more he was staring down at you.

The soft touches of his hands had tickled your skin as he trailed them down to your thighs, spreading them apart in front of him and he chewed down on his lower lip, trying to hold himself back from completely devouring you instantly.

His fingertips hooked underneath the waistband of your underwear, teasingly dragging it down your legs and tossed it behind him in one swift movemnt, his eyes meeting your gaze and the lustful look he had given you made your core throb.

Just by sleeping with him twice, he already knew what turned you on in seconds and what edged you on more. It wasn’t hard for him to find your soft spots or pleasure you continuously, it was like he was an expert on your body already.

As your eyes stayed on him, he dipped his head down and placed gentle kisses on your inner thighs, even playfully biting down on your skin hard enough to leave a mark but also send a breathless gasp to leave your lips.

Levi laughed to himself, bringing his two fingers up and ran them through your slick folds, the coldness of his fingers made you shiver slightly and gave you the urge to close your legs but he kept them spread with his other hand, his eyes burning into you as he watched your pleasured facial expressions.

He finally took it upon him to latch his mouth where you needed him most, not hesitating to roam his tongue around all while his two fingers had teased at your entrance, making you throw your head back on the table and grabbed a hold of his hair.

His tongue had worked on your clit, flicking at it and wrapping his mouth around it to softly suck on the bundle of nerves, making you almost squirm uncontrollably underneath him.

The way you gripped his hair tightly had made him continue his fast movements, thrusting his fingers inside of you and pumping them in and out at a even pace.

“Levi,” His name had slipped out of your mouth in a long moan, your legs clinging around his head while your eyes fluttered shut.

He had pulled his mouth back, feeling the salvia mixed with your juices dripping down his chin as he licked his lips. He continued thrusting his fingers, using his other hard to rub circular motions on your clit.

“Thats right, say my name.” He praised you, making your heart pound in your chest as your breathing got heavy.

His fingers twisted and curved up against your halls, instantly hitting your spot that sent a much louder noise to fall from your lips which fed on his ego, the confidence rising as he watched how much pleasure you were in with just his fingers.

He couldn’t help himself, the way his mouth drooled at the sight of you like this in front of him- he might just cum inside his pants with you like this. It made him crazy.

He latched his mouth back on your dripping core, running his tongue around the hole his fingers were plunging in, the taste of you had made him weak which only made him quicken his pace, wanting your cum on his tongue.

The continuous moans that had slipped out, your legs almost shaking as you felt the familiar knock in your stomach, making you clench around his fingers. He knew just by that you were close, licking up to your clit and spent his time sucking and nibbling down on it gently while his fingers did most of the work.

“I’m gonna-“ You couldn’t even finish your sentence before the pleasure had washed over you, making your eyes squeeze shut and your back arching off the table.

He moved his fingers just to replace them with his tongue, tasting every drop of you and collecting it as he savored the taste and hummed against you which made you shudder under him.

He pulled back, wiping his mouth with his thumb and licking the remaining cum off that as well before he leaned over you, reaching his fingers towards your mouth and you parted your lips. Levi had put his two fingers in your mouth, feeling your tongue swirl around them as you tasted yourself.

“My good girl.” He mumbled, removing his fingers and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

.

.

.

Idk about this part but ???? hope it’s okay.

Pls if there’s spelling errors, I’m so sorry I don’t feel like reading it over dhdhdhd

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Hii! Could u maybe do a 12 & 13 from fluff prompts with Bucky?

Also congratulations on the milestone! 🤍

Just say yes

A/N: Beware of the fluff attack and Bucky being an absolute puppy dog!

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Prompts - Dancing in the kitchen & Proposal gone wrong. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: Fluff town, a curse word or two.

Word count: 1500ish

Requests & Challenges

Bucky Barnes Taglist - @marvelgirl7 @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Tags are open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be included in any of these lists ;))

.

As the saying goes, ‘everything that can go wrong, will go wrong’ Bucky found it applicable to his current situation now more than ever.

He had been planning the perfect evening while you were away on a small mission with Sam and were expected to be home in less than an hour. He’d ordered your favourite pizza, kept that special bottle of wine you’d been saving on the table with two glasses, even texted every single person in the team to not disturb once you were home. 

Bucky wanted you all to himself tonight. That and the fact that he was planning to propose. 

You arrived fifteen minutes later looking tattered and exhausted. Bucky frowned, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as he heard the front door slam shut, concerned when he didn’t hear your usually chirpy voice, he walked out to greet you. 

“Welcome home sweetheart, how was th—”

He stopped mid-sentence after getting a good look at your state, hair in disarray, minor cuts decorating your forehead and chin. It wasn’t the first but today was supposed to be an easy one. 

“Oh you look terrible.” 

“Thanks I feel terrible.” 

Bucky chuckled, pulling you into a hug before pressing a kiss on your temple, immediately feeling your body sink into his. 

“What went wrong? I thought the mission was fairly—” 

“Yeah except it wasn’t. I’m going to take a bath okay.” 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” 

Sighing, you gently pushed him away to get to the bathroom, peeling off the unitard as you went,  exhaustion making you forget he was waiting for a kiss, but he understood.

“Alright, don’t be too long though. I made you dinner, and I can guarantee it’s edible this time.” 

“I’m sorry babe but I’m not really hungry. All I want is sleep.” 

You mumbled, your voice laden with sleep as you reached for the door, missing Bucky’s dejected face that he quickly recovered from, not wanting you to worry. 

“How about I get you a glass of wine and patch you up?” He offered.

“Yep.”

.

You practically crawled into bed after you bathed, falling asleep instantly. Bucky climbed in shortly after, racking his brain for yet another attempt of proposing as he draped his arm across your waist, gazing at your sleeping form for a while before kissing your forehead. 

. 

A lingering aroma of fresh bacon and eggs woke you up the next day. Peeking through a half open eye, you saw Bucky holding a tray of food in his hands and your favourite flower between his teeth.

“God bless you Bucky Barnes!” You exclaimed, sitting up against the headboard with the biggest smile on your face, making grabby hands at the food as your stomach growled. 

He placed the tray in your lap and tucked the flower behind your ear, whispering ‘good morning’ before leaning in for a kiss which you happily returned.

Bucky had already cleared your schedule for the day, made sure that no one bothered you today, he was determined to not let you out of the house before getting that ring on your finger. 

You took turns eating yourself and feeding your super caring boyfriend who had gone through all this trouble for you, not really saying much but rather enjoying the silence you shared. 

“Hey I got us a table at that Italian restaurant that you love for dinner.” Bucky announced matter-of-factly, hiding his nervous self under the facade of a casual dinner date. 

“I’ll have to check with Agent Hill if there’s some updates after last night’s blow-up but I’m sure th—” 

“Oh that won’t be necessary.” 

“It won’t?” You eyed the man who kept his gaze on the piece of fruit he was toying with in the plate.

“Y-yeah I cleared your schedule for the day.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. I want you all to myself.” Bucky’s soft smile warmed your heart as did his honesty, making you lean forward and place a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“So it’s a date Barnes.”

“It’s a date.”

.

Bucky went over his plan once more after deciding to drop the idea of proposing in a public place, he figured he would take you out for a nice meal first, get home, maybe open a nice bottle of wine with some cake and do it then. 

He still had some issues when people disturbed your peace while out at a public place or a social gathering. People would stare, ask for pictures with his vibranium arm or just generally give him the look making him utterly uncomfortable. He decided he couldn’t afford that tonight, everything had to be perfect. He even decided to take the efforts of making you a chocolate cake from scratch. 

Evening rolled by and the kitchen counter was a mess of broken eggshells, a thousand mixing bowls and spoons, the floor covered in sugar and cocoa powder while Bucky wiped the sweat off his forehead and finally got the batter in the oven. 

Looking around, he knew it would eventually have to be professionally cleaned or it would be sleeping on the couch for a week. Somehow he had to evade you from entering the kitchen until he popped the question. 

The super soldier double checked the ring box in his back pocket and set the timer, getting to make the ganache for the cake. 

“Bucky! Get in here right now!” You yelled from the bathroom, voice sounding downright pissed off. 

“Ah fuck what now.” 

Muttering under his breath, he ran, only to find your fully clothed self drenched as the water sprayed everywhere from the broken shower. 

“Oh God, are you alright?”

“Besides being fucking soaked and ruining my new dress & make-up? Oh just fabulous!” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and stepping away to let him in the mini pool.

You stood next to him shivering while he tried his best to fix it, his vibranium arm doing the trick as he closed the tap, now completely soaked the same as you. 

A tiny box fallen on the wet floor caught your attention and you bent to pick it up, gasping when you opened it to find the most beautiful diamond ring sitting inside the cushioned box. 

It felt more and more real the longer you stared at it, unable to form words, glancing at the man you loved and who, by some miracle loved you back & enough to take this next big step. 

“Bucky…” 

“Hmm?” He wasn’t paying attention.

“What uh..when did you—please look at me.” You croaked, holding the tiny box up in your palm.

Bucky’s eyes turned wide before his hand automatically went for the back pocket of his jeans from where the ring must’ve fallen.

“Fucking hell.”

“What? I hope this isn’t for someone else.” You chuckled at your terrible attempts of a joke, tears already gathering in your eyes while Bucky scratched the back of his neck nervously. 

“Okay I’m gonna do this now. Wait fuck, let me get you a towel first, you’re shivering.”

He hurried to wrap you in a fluffy towel, walked you out and sat you on the bed before knelt down on both knees and cleared his throat.

“Here we go. None of the amazing things that have happened in my life in the past few years would’ve happened, if it weren’t for you. You have been one of the most integral parts of my journey towards healing and by no means is it over, but I know I can’t go ahead without you. You’ve loved me through my worst and by some miracle continue to do so even today.” He chuckled, tears gathering in his eyes while you were down right sobbing at this point.

“I mean it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I had a whole thing planned and now the kitchen’s a big mess and we have a pool in the bathroom. But again when has anything worked perfectly for us right?”

You giggled through tears, nodding as your mind automatically played all those memories, first date, first kiss, the first ‘i love you’s, everything. It wasn’t the smoothest ride with Bucky but it was the best and you wouldn’t have it any other ways. 

“So Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you be interested in spending the rest of your life with a semi-stable hundred year old man?” 

Wiping your tears, you knelt in front of the man yourself as fresh tears appeared, cupped Bucky’s face in your hands and kissed him with all the love you had in you.

“What do you say?” He mumbled, never breaking the kiss as he stood up with you and walked you over to the bed.

“What do you want me to say? I already found the ring.” You giggled, flopping on the bed and peeling your clothes off, dinner reservations  long forgotten. 

“Just say yes.”

“Yes.” Saying it out loud made you believe it actually happened, as Bucky climbed between your parted legs.

“Say it again.”

“Yes!” 

.

Two hours later when you were finally ready to leave the bedroom, you found yourself in the kitchen in Bucky’s arms, swaying to some 40s ballads that he put on, the floor was a complete mess but neither of you cared. The cake he’d prepared was mostly burnt - thankfully he ran to turn the oven off right before giving you your second orgasm of the night. 

But you wouldn’t trade this moment, this day or this man for anything. 

[jj-babebank]

Room 107 // chapter II // JJ Maybank (smut)

The story picks up where season 2 leaves us.

TW: Contains mentions of drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex and violence.

CHAPTER ONE can be found here.

Chapter 2 - La Realidad

The lobby was surprisingly big and it matched the interior of the diner to a T. Everything was rustic and cheesy-looking, mimicking what Americans imagined people in Spain’s houses to look like. The black and white tiles from the diner went on into the foyer, covered in plants. The ceiling was very high and you could see the roof from the middle of the lobby. Four sets of sofas and tables were spread around, but all of them were vacant, much like the ones in the diner.

Samara was leaning against one of the many columns supporting the arches on which the upper parts of the walls were resting, waiting for the group. JJ smiled at her but she didn’t smile back, only turned around and motioned for them to follow her up a wide set of stairs. “Seeing as we’re almost fully booked tonight, you’ll be staying on the first floor,” she said, stopping at the first floor’s landing where a hallway of doors revealed itself, “With me.” The sound of that excited JJ a little too much for his liking. “Fully booked?” John B mumbled under his breath, “Yeah right,” he scoffed. “Don’t jump to conclusions too quickly, friend of JJ,” Samara said, obviously having heard him regardless of the fact that she was a good few feet ahead of them, “There is more than meets the eye down here in La Guardiana.” She stopped in front of a door, placing a key inside the keyhole, “Room 103,” she said, opening the door to reveal a scarcely furnished small room with hideous red wallpaper on the walls and a double bed situated between two Spanish windows, “Obviously only two can sleep here, so who’s it gonna be?” Sarah volunteered first, “Me and John B can have it,” she said, quickly adding, “If that’s okay with you, of course…” “Alright,” Samara said, turning the lights on in what JJ guessed was the bathroom, “This is your bathroom, there’s shampoo and soap in there, I’m guessing you’ll need it, enjoy.” She said, leading the others out of the room and down to the next one, 105. She unlocked the door, revealing an almost identical room to the previous one with the only difference being in the wallpaper colour - it was blue. Kiara and Cleo agreed to share this room, which left JJ with Pope. “And room 107,” said Samara, unlocking the second to last door down the hallway, “It’s right next to mine, how lucky,” she said sarcastically, handing Pope the keys. He ran into the room, laying on the bed with a look of pure bliss on his face. JJ turned to Samara, “Hey, uh, thank you so much again, I-“ “Meet me in the lobby at midnight.” She interrupted him, turning on her heel to walk away, “Don’t be late.” JJ’s pants suddenly felt awfully tight with excitement as he nodded, “Okay!” He said enthusiastically, “But… What time is it now?”

~~~~~~

The good thing about 100 degree temperature was that everything dried quickly. Whether it was hair or clothes or underwear - it dried up in no time. This was exactly why after taking what felt like the best showers of their lives, JJ and Pope washed their clothes and let them air dry on the window sills. Both boys were currently laying in bed in their towels, staring at the ceiling with only the sound of the big wall clock ticking away in the background. “She wants to meet up, you know?” JJ suddenly broke the silence. Pope snickered next to him, “You know what, JJ? I’ve gotta give it to you, man. Even smelly and dirty, you still manage to get the girl. How do you even do it?” JJ smiled proudly, “What can I say? I guess I’m just irresistible.” Pope laughed at his friend’s words. “So what time are you going to her room?” He asked. “Oh, she wants to meet me in the lobby. Probably wants to have a couple of drinks to, uh, you know, break the ice. Little does she know that JJ Maybank is more than just a pretty face and a man of few words,” JJ said cockily, “Come here, baby, I can recite you the whole dictionary” he wiggled his eyebrows. Pope was laughing hysterically at his friend’s cockiness, “What would we ever do without you, man?” “I’ll tell you one thing you wouldn’t have done without me,” he said, sitting up at gesturing towards their surroundings, “Sleep in a bed, at a hotel, for free,” Pope nodded, “Dude, I still can’t believe this is happening, this girl’s practically saving our asses,” “Yeah and you just wait ’til I get a hold of hers,” JJ wiggled his eyebrows once again. Pope scoffed, “What time are you meeting?” “Midnight,” JJ responded, looking at the clock. It was currently 8pm. The sun was still out and oddly enough, the street was beginning to sound a bit more lively. JJ and Pope peaked through one of the windows to have a look at what was happening outside. Sure enough, as the sun began to set, the streets of La Guardiana began to fill up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One positive about being a castaway - ending up in a cool new spot where a hot girl was practically giving herself to JJ.

One negative thing about being a castaway - having nothing to wear to impress said hot girl.

JJ was known to be an attractive guy and he knew it. Pulling girls never posed an issue for him back in the Outer Banks, yet here he was, standing in front of the long rectangular mirror in the hallway of his and Pope’s shared room, sighing at his reflection. He tried combing his sandy blonde hair back with his fingers, failing miserably as the soft strands just wouldn’t cooperate and stay in one spot. He looked down at his clothes, the same set of clothes he’d been wearing since that day, and rolled his eyes, throwing his head back in annoyance. “At least they’re clean…” he sighed to himself, tugging at his top. Pope was sitting on their bed, smirking at JJ’s reflection through the mirror, “Is it just me or do I sense nervousness?” JJ turned around to face him, his face expression both sad and annoyed, “This is all I’ve got, it’s not like I can do anything about it.” Pope shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, look at it this way - if she offered to help all of us after having a five minute conversation with you, then she must like you a lot.” Pope’s words made JJ’s lips curl into a small smile. Maybe he was right, why else would Samara willingly offer to house not only him, but his friends too, in her family’s hotel, for free? She must have liked him, right? Right?

The blonde boy sighed as he turned to look at the clock. In 10 minutes he would have to make his way downstairs to the pretty lady who asked him to meet her there, and to say he was excited would be an understatement. He took a seat next to Pope on the bed, keeping him company in watching some baseball game currently playing on their little TV, engulfing the room in light. JJ was tapping his foot on the ground nervously, checking the clock every few seconds, not focusing on the TV programme at all. Time seemed to be passing dreadfully slow all of a sudden. The street in front of their window was now full of people chattering and laughing, there was music playing from several different spots, one melody overlapping with the rest and smells of all kinds were filling the boys’ room, the one of marijuana particularly tickling JJ’s fancy as all he could think about was how much just one, not more, drag would help him ease his nerves before his much anticipated date. Was it even a date? He was so nervous at this point that he decided to just head downstairs without wasting any more time.

The short walk down to the lobby was filling JJ’s already nervous brain with even more nerves. What was he even nervous about? He was never like this around girls. Although, he had to admit he hadn’t really flirted with anyone in a while now, even before the day of the incident. He was so engulfed in mourning his best friend and Sarah, whom he believed to be dead, that he had completely neglected his own needs and fantasies, sex being the one he had pushed to the side the most. The past few months were hard for JJ, what with everything going on in his life - from John B to his dad, to the gold, and now the cross; almost being tossed in jail on more than one occasion, getting into numerous fights, hiding on numerous occasion and not to mention all that running that him and his friends somehow always had to partake in, being chased by anyone and everyone wherever they went. JJ had been so busy doing all of this, he had forgotten how to be a teenaged boy, how to fix his hair, how to talk to girls - hell, he was sure that if Samara took him up to her room, he’d have to have at least three of those whiskeys he drank earlier, just to know where to touch her - that’s how much he had neglected his sex life.

Making his way down to the lobby, he saw her. She was sitting on one of the couches, not yet aware of his presence there, a glass of wine resting in her delicate hands and another one sitting on the table in front of her, presumably for JJ. Her silky chocolate hair cascaded down her tanned shoulders, covering her voluptuous breasts, making JJ gulp. She was wearing an off white dress that seemed to hug her in all the right places and the contrast between her dark hair, bronze tan and the light coloured material made her appear even more alluring to the young boy, if that was even possible. Samara was truly a sight to behold and JJ couldn’t believe his luck quite yet. Somehow all of this seemed too good to be true. People never usually just gave stuff away, it wasn’t in their nature. Being from the cut, JJ was used to only receiving things that he was expected to work for. Good things never came cheap, and the girl sitting before him who had put a roof over his and his friends’ heads for the foreseeable few days, definitely didn’t look like the type who just gave things away. JJ was simply hoping that the wine she had prepared for him would be enough to soothe his nerves before what he imagined would be a night of hot, raunchy sex. He wanted to rip her clothes off and make her whimper beneath him and he was so set on that, that he had turned it into the only logical thing that she could ask for in return for the massive favour she was doing for him. It only made sense, right? She knew he had nothing - what else could he possibly offer her?

“Hello, JJ,” Samara spoke when she finally saw the boy approaching her. He sat down on the sofa next to her and picked up the glass of wine that was waiting for him on the table. “I heard about a certain gold you have,” she simply said, her plump lips twisting into a smirk and her black eyes boring into JJ’s blue ones, “How about I help you get it back and in turn,” she reached for his knee, “- you share some of it with me.”

Uh-oh.