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i2sunric · 26 days

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𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 (s.jy)

PAIRING: alpha!jake x omega!reader (f)

SUMMARY: being an omega was already hard, but being an omega with an alpha roommate was worse. especially during your heats. you’d lock yourself in your room, trying to ignore his strong scent and his presence, but jake has had enough of hearing pained wails. he’ll help you, even if he wasn’t your alpha (yet).

WARNINGS: omegaverse, roommates au, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), breeding kink, doggystyle, dirty talking, riding, cream pie, fingering, pussy eating, knotting (?) , heat and mentions of ruts, pet names (baby, good girl), mentions of pups (this feels strange idk), reader is a virgin, overstimulation, tits sucking (😋), mentions of pregnancy, manhandling, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 28th August 2024

WC: 4.2k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emisloves @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 (oneshot) @nyfwyeonjun @high-and-low-all-the-way @victorylr @jaeyunwon @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @nshmrarki @hchoes @entenen @heeseungshim @seungminsapuppy @starfallia @ratchet-sebooty @jakeyismine @laurradoesloveu @denleave1088 @weebgeek22 @victoriasimm @strxwbloody @love4hee @strayy-kidz @iheartshopping @isa942572 @hazycottagedreams @jky001 @haelahoops @chososloverfr @mitmit01 @icepriincehoon @kaykay11sworld @riribelle @coraldonutmagazine @seuomo @sn03 @hoonwonsoul @pinksweetlittlepiano @jiminie-08 @leiclerc BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED (adding the rest in the comments cause i can’t tag more than 50 ppl)

a/n: why do i always end my jake fics with a cliffhanger? it’s a mistery to me as well. i don’t really like how it turned out but i sincerely hope y’all do. idk much abt omegaverse and i searched on google most of the information, if it ain’t accurate let’s just say it’s caseyverse and call it a day. please REBLOG & COMMENT bcs only likes get me shadowbanned. also, lmk your thoughts on this fic 🫶🫶

You were prepared.

You had your favourite blankets, all your plushies, your phone and your charger.

You had even bought a mini fridge to keep enough food so that you would resist for at least three days.

Your heat was coming, you could feel it in your bones, which was the main reason as to why you were locked in your bedroom.

Taking the pill to stop the heat from coming was a good idea, especially since you didn’t have an alpha of your own, but the doctor refused to prescribe them, saying that they would really damage your health.

Because suffering for two to three days straight wasn’t.

Your skin was hot, too hot, sweat started gathering on your forehead, and sticking you to the sheets.

You laid on your bed, trying your best to even your breaths and willing your mind not to slip away.

You hated being an omega and going into heat, especially in summer. The weather affected it, making the pain unbearable.

As you thought about it, a sharp pain like a sting hit your lower stomach, you could feel your panties wetting with arousal.

A small yelp left your lips, your hips slowly bucking in the air to soothe the ache between your legs.

It was humiliating, the way your mind succumbed to the primal urge to mating, to being bred.

Suddenly, a soft knock came from the other side of the door and you scrunched your nose.

Jake, with his strong hormones scent, minty but musky at the same time. You normally could live with it, he was good at hiding his scent so as not to bother you and you hid your pheromones well too.

But now, it almost suffocated you and he wasn’t even in the room with you “Y/N… can I come in?”

You scoffed, mood already ruined by your denied pleasure. It’s not like you didn’t have toys, they were in your drawer, but most definitely you weren’t to use them while Jake was in the house.

You just needed to keep control of your mind.

“Jake, no.” You hissed, even if he already knew the answer “Not for the rest three working days.”

Jake pressed his forehead on the door. He also went into rut, but he would just find a willing omega or a beta to bury himself and then forget about them.

You weren’t like him, you didn’t want someone you didn’t know to be inside you, to have such a power over your body.

“Three days?” He sighed “Fuck, your scent is so strong.”

And it was true, during your heat you released more pheromones so as to attract other alphas. Fact was, it also drove your roommate insane.

“I can smell how bad your heat is, it drives me crazy.” Jake murmured, making you shiver.

You could hear his breathless voice, the thick Australian accent rolling off his tongue was such a turn on.

“Don’t—“ You groaned when another wave of pain hit your lower stomach, “Don’t talk like that.” You pleaded.

"I can't help it." He said, "Your scent is so strong, you smell so good…”

He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw.

“Please, Jake.” You clung the sheet under you, needing an anchor against your lust “Leave, go outside.”

“I can’t.” He was quick to say “You keep whimpering and I don’t want to hear you in pain.” He stated.

“I’m g-grand.” You replied, “I can manage.”

He gripped the door handle, his muscles tensing up. “I want to help you." He said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I want to take care of you and make you feel good, please, just let me in."

“Don’t complicate things,” You breathed out, your hips moving around the bed “We set boundaries, remember?”

“Boundaries don’t expect me to sit back, knowing you’re suffering.” He bit back, voice strained.

“Still,” You commented.

Jake and you had a nice relationship, you weren’t just roommates but also friends. You loved to hang out with him and you didn’t want him to see you like this. Again, it was too embarrassing, you weren’t sure you’d be able to face him afterwards.

He tried to pull the handle but obviously, you had locked the door “Y/N, open up.”

You turned around on the bed, your hips humping against the mattress, your face flush on the sheets “No.” You said, trying to sound convincing.

“I just want to help you, don’t overthink it.” Jake sighed, pulling the door knob again. “I said no, Jake. Go away.”

At another groan that escaped your lips, Jake couldn’t take it anymore and kicked the door a couple of times until it swung open.

You widened your eyes “What—“ Before you could talk, he pounced on you, his body holding yours down.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent that resembled vanilla and peaches, making his head spin “You smell so good, baby.”

You breathed out, trying your hardest not to think about his body so close to you, his skin on yours, “Jake please, get out.”

He planted hot kisses down your collarbone, his hands roaming over your body. “Let me take care of you, I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

“No..” You murmured but as his hands yanked off your shorts and panties, you could feel your wetness running down your thighs in the same way your consciousness crumbled.

You wanted it, you wanted Jake to take you, to make you his and calm the burning desire that consumed you.

He cursed under his breath, two fingers gathered your arousal and he put them in his mouth, humming “You even taste delicious baby, can you be anymore perfect?”

“Jake..” You murmured, “Make it better.” Your voice was strained and whiny, making Jake’s pants tighter.

“Say no more.” He said and without any warning he pushed two fingers deep inside of you.

How they even fit was foreign to you, given that nobody had ever dared to touch you there, but you didn’t really care at that moment. It felt good, so good.

You moaned out, gripping the sheets under you, your mind already a puddle of pleasure.

His digits were skilled, brushing and thrusting in every spot that got your eyes rolling.

“So wet for me baby, mh?” Jake groaned, the squelching sound filling the room, imprinting in his ears.

He raised your shirt with his free hand and started groping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his palms.

He towered you, his presence dominant behind you, like a shadow swallowing you whole.

Whimpers left your lips, but this time they were a reaction from pleasure, not pain.

“Where is it?” He asked, biting his tongue as he desperately searched for something inside you.

When he felt you moan loudly, he smirked “Got it.” And he started thrusting his fingers in and out, reaching that spot again.

You felt as if your body was being burned, you needed him to continue it, to take you to the edge.

And Jake never stopped, even if his wrist hurt and his fingers grew sore. He lived to hear your cries of pleasure, to be the one making you squirm.

“Close?” He asked when he felt your walls clench around his digits and you nodded.

“Ugh.” You moaned, your eyes squeezing and with one last thrust of his fingers, you fell apart.

Your body trembled, your legs shook. Jake gently helped you ride out of your high before pulling out his fingers and licking them clean.

“If only you could taste yourself, baby.” He took your chin in his hand and raised your body so you were kneeling, back flush to his chest “So sweet, I can’t get enough.”

You felt his bulge brush against your back and it was the moment where your mind went completely black.

Lust winning over reason.

You breathed out “Jake,” Letting one of your hands wander down his chest until it reached his sweats, feeling his clothed hard-on “Put it inside me.”

Jake cursed, his body trembling “You want it inside?” He questioned, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear “Want me to fuck you, mh?”

You nodded blissfully, trying to pull his pants down.

Jake chuckled and let you fall on the mattress, quickly working both his shirt and pants off.

You peeked at him over your shoulder and gasped. His cock was huge, so long and thick it made your mouth water.

Any worry that it might not fit in your virgin pussy was clouded by lust, so you said “Hurry.” Raising your backside in the air.

“Patience.” He ordered, gently pulling your shorts and panties down your ankles, as well as removing your shirt.

He stroked his hard shaft, already leaking precum, he kneeled closer to you and you held onto the headboard.

Jake gripped your backside, squeezing your hips as he teased your entrance with the head of his cock.

You gasped, the feeling so good “I’m going in now.” He had the decency to warn that time and slowly, pushed inside you.

“Ngh.” You moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he put all of his length in you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed.

Jake sighed, his head thrown back. Your walls hugged him, “You’re so tight.” He grunted.

He was going slow so he wouldn’t hurt you, but it wasn’t enough for you. You needed more, you needed to feel all of him in all of you.

“Faster,” You pleaded, arching your back “Faster, fuck me fast.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” He murmured, his pace still too slow

“You hurt me if you don’t start moving fast.” You groaned, reaching a hand behind you to pull his hips nearer you.

Jake shook his head, amazed “Anything you want.” Like that, he moved faster.

The sound of skin slapping filled the room as well as the squelching ones from your wetness.

“M’gonna fuck you so good,” He said, voice so husky. He took your chin in his grasp and pulled you up, tilting it to the side so he could kiss you.

Finally, he got a taste of your lips, his tongue licking yours, giving delicious strokes.

You moaned in his mouth and he rewarded you with a rather deep thrust that hit your cervix.

He smirked, knowing he had found your sweetest spot, so he kept hitting it repetitively, alternating slow to fast thrusts.

“That’s it,” He snuck a hand on your neck and gently squeezed “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

You couldn’t almost see straight from the amount of pleasure you were given.

He licked your ear, then pressed wet kisses down your jaw, occasionally sucking.

Your pussy clenched around him, signalling that you were close to your orgasm.

“Jake,” You breathed out “Jake, m’so close.”

His free hand went to your clit, gently rubbing circles that sent jolts of pleasure through your body.

“Ugh!” You moaned, the knot in your stomach snapping, making you cream all over his cock.

Jake gave you slow thrusts, helping you ride out of your orgasms and waiting for you to come down off your high.

Your eyes flickered open as you flopped on the mattress, your body growing tired.

Jake pulled out, making you frown “W-what about you?” You asked quietly.

“I’d love to continue baby, but it’s easier to get pregnant during your heat and I have no condoms.” He explained, pressing a featherlight kiss on your shoulder.

How he wasn’t yet a slave of lust, you didn’t know.

“But..” You wanted to argue but your reason was gone, even the lust, replaced by an immense tiredness.

Jake helped you lay down properly, caressing your sweaty forehead “I don’t want to take advantage of you, if we keep going I won’t be able to pull away.”

He leaned down to press another kiss on your lips “Rest, I’ll clean you up and stay with you, ok?”

You only managed to softly hum as your eyelids grew heavy and his voice grew faint until the world was just black.

⪩⪨.

When you felt the second wave hit, you had half expected to wake up in a pool of sweat and slick.

Definitely, not with Jake’s nose rubbing your clothed pussy, inhaling your sweet smell.

“Jake?” You asked, your voice laced with sleep.

He raised his face and looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot. You couldn’t control your pheromones while you slept and they drove Jake insane, making him lust drunk.

“I’m sorry,” He murmured, giving your pussy another smell “Really need to taste you.”

You still felt groggy from your deep slumber when he slipped your panties down and smelled them again.

“Christ,” Jake groaned, slipping them into his sweatpants’ pocket.

He placed gentle kisses on your thighs and raised your legs, letting them rest on your shoulders.

Jake’s breath fanned against your pussy, making you let out a whiney exhale. He smirked and licked a long stripe out of your wet folds.

He moaned, really moaned, at the taste of you and you couldn’t help but glance down at the man between your legs.

He was drop dead gorgeous, with two deep brown eyes, messy hair and the expression of a starved man ready to dig in for his long awaited meal.

Jake gave you kitten licks again, alternating soft kisses to sucking.

You moaned, throwing your head back. You had always fantasised about how good getting eaten out felt like, but Jake must’ve been the masters of it because lord, if he made you see stars.

Your pussy was dripping with arousal, your juices coating his face, running down his chin.

But he didn’t mind, instead, he tried to gather them all on his tongue so as not to miss anything.

He buried his face between your legs, your feet locking behind his neck.

“You need to keep them open, baby.” He murmured on your clit, “Alright? Can you do that for me?”

You let out a broken hum in response, your mind just filled with unholy thoughts of him. You just barely opened your legs for him.

You needed him to make you cum, over and over again, to teach you everything he knew, in all the positions he liked.

“Good girl,” Jake whispered before downing again, his tongue lapping on your bundle of nerves.

He thrust one finger inside of you, gently curling it to reach your sweet spot, making you a moaning mess.

“Ugh..” You yelped, your back arching, “Pussy so good.” He said between licks “Could do this all day.”

You groaned and put one hand on his head, fingers grasping his locks “Less talking, more licking.”

Jake loved how desperate you were, so different from your usually collected and shy attitude.

You were clouded by lust and all of that was for him, he was really the luckiest alpha on earth.

Your hips bucked against his tongue, you were so close to your orgasm you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Jake...” You breathed out, and he understood what you meant. He removed his finger from you and put his tongue instead, the sensation so new and wet.

His nose brushed against your clit and he patted your waist, signalling that you could start moving.

Both your hands grabbed his hair, riding his tongue, your hips bucking fast against him.

He moaned, sending vibrations all through your body. You rolled your eyes back, “M’so-so close.” You murmured “M’gonna cum.”

If Jake’s mouth was free, he would’ve cooed at how cute you looked, so lost in pleasure you couldn’t even speak properly.

With a few more strong bucks, your legs shook around his neck, your orgasm reaching you like a tidal wave.

You pulled his hair so hard it hurt, but Jake didn’t mind. No, he actually liked it.

“Ride it out,” He murmured “Fuck my tongue, baby.”

You slowly calmed down, your legs fell down on Jake’s sides, your chest heaving slowlier.

You peeled your eyes open, glancing down at Jake.

He had been humping the mattress, as if eating you out was a source of pleasure for him as well.

You could see that the precum leaking from his bulge had stained his sweats, his chest already bare.

“Can I ride you?” You asked such a filthy question so innocently that Jake could’ve cum on spot.

“You want to ride me, baby?” You nodded shamelessly while he chuckled, patting your leg “Get up.”

You followed his lead, getting up so he could take your position. He leaned his back against your bed’s headboard and held out his hands to you.

You took them in yours as he helped you sit on his lap.

Jake’s hands settled on your waist while yours on his shoulders, your hips slowly rocking on his.

He groaned, his head thrown back against the headboard. “You feel so good.” His smirk made you want to do many unspeakable things to him.

Swiftly, he removed your shirt and started touching your warm breasts, teasing your nipples.

He tilted you towards him and latched his mouth on one, kissing and swirling his tongue around your nipple while kneading the other.

You moaned, rewarding him with a rather deep grind, feeling his whole length underneath you.

Suddenly, a thought crossed your blackened mind “Breed me.”

Jake stopped his work on your breasts and looked up at you, his brows furrowing.

Something in his brain was trying to warn him, but he was far too deep to even care “Yeah? You want me to breed you?”

He circled your waist with one arm and pulled you up, pulling his sweats and boxers down and kicking them off his ankles.

“I want your pups.” You murmured, your voice frail and quiet but full of desire.

Jake groaned, his cock twitching “Fuck, baby.”

“I’ll give you my pups,” You pumped his shaft with your hand and held it to your entrance as he slowly lowered you on him “I’ll fill you with my pups.”

The thought of your belly all swollen, your body changing to carry his pups wasn’t such a bad idea… was it?

You wanted everyone to know he was the alpha who took care of you, you wanted— no, you needed him to mate you.

He moved you up and down, slowly at first, so you could get used to him, but then he snapped his hips up into yours forcefully.

He debated whether to let you ride him or to just take the lead and fuck into you, but his control had crumbled long time ago and all he needed was to breed you.

The desire was consuming the both of you, leaving the room only with moans, grunts, heavy breaths and filthy sounds.

You sincerely hoped your neighbours weren’t to hear your late night activities.

You wrapped your arms around Jake’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You left kitten kisses and sucked on his skin, making his head spin.

You fit so well in his arms and he fit so well inside of you.

“Pussy was made for me,” He grunted, his pace picking up “Mh, Were you made for me, baby? Aren’t you my omega?”

You nodded, your walls sucking him in, squeezing around him “I’m yours,” You cried out “I’m yours, all of me.”

Jake’s eyes lit up “Yeah?” He chuckled, placing one hand on your lower stomach. He could feel the shadow of his bulge under his palms.

“Do you feel it, baby? I’m here.” You felt him press down, earning a moan from you.

You looked down to where his hand was and almost came on spot “So— S’deep.” You threw your head back.

He circled your hips, making your clit brush against his pubic hair.

“You like it deep?” He asked, his voice low, his accent thicker when he was lost in lust. “You like it when I’m so deep you can feel me everywhere?”

You nodded mindlessly, your eyes squeezing as you felt your second orgasm approach “Like it!” You exclaimed “Like it so much, Jake, please.”

Jake groaned in answer and goped your ass, lifting you up so he could fuck into you.

His hips moved fast, his balls smacking on your skin. You grasped his shoulders and bit down on his neck, the pleasure he was giving you was overwhelming all your senses.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close.” He murmured, his grip on you so tight it left red marks.

“Jake, oh lord—” You cried out, feeling your orgasm approach “Cum around my cock.” He whispered, his lips so close to your ear it sent shivers in your body.

“Mh— Ah.” You moaned as your euphoria reached you, your legs trembling and body squirming. If it wasn’t for Jake’s iron grip, you would’ve fallen out of your small bed.

But he didn’t care that you needed to calm down, not really, because his hips continued to snap against yours.

His cock was in so deep he hit your cervix with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure all around your body.

Your ears rang from your powerful orgasm, your breath laboured. Overstimulation made your body tremble. But still, you didn’t feel complete.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whisper in his ear, your arms clinging to him for dear life. “Please Jakey, I need you to breed me.”

That was all it took. Jake’s movements altered, his cock twitching inside of you as his balls emptied.

You felt his hot seed filling you up, but soon it was followed by a sharp pain.

“Ugh!” You groaned, tears filling your eyes “J-jake…”

He cursed under his breath, his orgasm still washing over him. It had never happened that he came so much like that time, liquid spurring inside of you.

“Shit baby, I’m sorry,” He breathed out “I may have knotted you.”

“What?!” You widened your eyes, back to your normal self. Your worried and overthinker self.

You tried to move away from him but the sharp pain came back.

“Shh, don’t move.” Jake instructed “It’ll hurt more if I pull out now,”

“It hurts either way!” You groaned, clinging on him like an anchor.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He pressed featherlight kisses on your neck “The first time always hurts, but I swear it gets better.”

“I’m dying here.” You whimpered, but Jake’s touch was soothing and so were his words and a few minutes later, the pain stopped.

Slowly, he pulled out of you and kissed your temples “You okay?”

You nodded, now that there was nothing tied up inside of you, you felt refreshed. Happier. You didn’t even feel any discomfort caused from the heat.

Jake smiled softly and caressed your cheek, he leaned in to whisper “Knotting helps with your heat pain.”

“But it hurts like a bitch.” You frowned, watching as he carefully placed you down on the bed and cleaned you up with a tissue.

Jake chuckled, “I told you, it gets better.”

⪩⪨.

And it did, Jake was no liar.

The morning after he was kind enough to drive you to the doctor who gave you a prescription to take birth control. He said it would be better than fully stopping your heat.

He also reassured that the percentage to get pregnant was high after a knot (nagging at Jake for losing control), but as long as you took the pill within twenty-four hours, it would slow or block the process completely.

You hoped for the latter.

Obviously, he highly recommended to always use protections and to avoid knotting… but, you used a condom just a couple of times, because your heat wouldn’t get better unless Jake fucked you raw and filled you wih his seed.

In fact, he took you in the shower, on the couch and even in the kitchen. Any time was a good time to eat you out and stuff you full.

The only place left ‘holy’ was his room, but he said it’d be filthy once his rut started. Which, by the way, you agreed to help him through.

Jake even skipped his lectures to stay at home with you and provide you whatever you needed. Not like he attended much on a daily basis.

Everything went smoothly, he was so caring towards you, always looking after you when you passed out from the intense sex, even cooking for you (even if he burnt the pan and you two had to order out) and giving you nice massages until your heat completely stopped.

However, it was around a month later, when you came out of the bathroom with teary eyes and a positive pregnancy test in hand that you and Jake realised you had taken it too far.

2K notes · View notes

bucksangel · 1 month

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run little bunny

pairing: softdark!ceo!bucky x naive!assistant!reader

word count: 8.6k

summary: Being John Walker’s assistant is hard; he’s mean, disrespectful, misogynistic, the whole nine yards. On top of that, he hardly pays you fairly. So, when you’re fired for a mistake you’re sure wasn’t your fault, you’re at risk of being kicked out by your rude roommates. Luckily for you, James Barnes, a wildly successful CEO, has found his way into your life. And he’s going to take such good care of you.

warnings: where do i even start, 18+, minors DNI and i fucking mean it, mild coercion, some of it could be interpreted as stalking, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, sir kink, oral (f receiving), housewife kink, breeding kink, pet names (bunny, darling), dirty talk, dom!bucky and sub!reader, choking, squirting, basically just absolute filth, a little hurt-comfort, reader’s roommates are awful and mean, not john walker friendly but when am i ever

a/n: so this was supposed to just be some quick smut but as always i went overboard, so please enjoy! likes and comments are appreciated, reblogs are even better!

tip jar | main masterlist | ao3 | run little bunny masterlist

Your hands are shaking slightly, your heartbeat races with anxiety, and your leg bounces rapidly. Today is an important day after all, and your boss has made it clear that if you mess up in any way then he’d have to rethink your employment. That sent dread flooding through your body, so you’ve been preparing yourself for the last week to make sure everything for the meeting is perfect.

And, on the technical side, everything is immaculate - mostly due to you staying up until almost midnight each night to polish the presentation. You thought everything was done properly, but when you’d walked into the building that morning your boss was holed up in his office finishing up his portion of the work, so you’d decided to simply email him to let him know that you had arrived.

Everything was perfect. But when you get into the meeting room, your boss’ eyes go wide, anger clouding them while he scowls. You quickly make your way to his side, only for him to bark out a command for you to grab water for his incoming guests. Placing your notebook on the table, you turn to scurry off to the side to grab the glasses, but you’re stopped when your boss grabs your arm harshly.

“Do you have a change of clothes?”

“Um… Um, I-“ Your boss raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you might throw up from the sudden anxiety. “No, sir.”

He scoffs, muttering under his breath something about looking “trashy,” before releasing you and allowing you to go to the minibar.

Your arm stings, no doubt sporting a red mark because of how harsh the grip was. You’re also confused because you thought the floral dress you’d chosen was pretty. Sure, it may not be high class, but your boss has never had a problem with it before, but you’re assuming that he’s on edge due to who he’s meeting with.

James Barnes; the most powerful and successful CEO in the entire country. You haven’t met him personally, but from what you hear you know that he’s not someone you want to upset. According to the hushed whispers around the office, he stands at a towering 6’6, tattoos cover his arms and hands, and if he frowns then you better move out of the way.

Would Mr. Barnes be upset with your attire?

You desperately hope not, because you need this job. While you can barely make your rent and utilities, you don’t have any other job lined up, and you’re way too scared to ask for a raise from a man who so clearly disrespects you. For right now, though, you’re stuck.

The oak doors open, and one of the office assistants steps off to the side while holding the door open for several men to walk in. You hear him before you see him. You’ve never heard his voice, but the commanding tone he uses when he addresses your boss lets you know that it must be him.

“Hello, Mr. Walker,” Mr. Barnes greets him, and you can hear your boss stand and greet him as well.

You’re trying your hardest to keep calm while you walk toward the table with a platter holding several glasses of water. You do your best to place them in front of the men without showing how nervous you are.

But when you get to Mr. Barnes, you nearly spill the drink all over the table once you get a whiff of his clearly expensive cologne. Oh, how you’d love to be surrounded by that scent, the woodsy smell almost intimidates you but you’re unsure as to why you don’t mind.

You’ve never done anything even remotely sexual with a man, you’re far too awkward and anxious in a way that isn’t too appealing to many, but for a very brief moment, you wonder what he looks like underneath the black three-piece suit — the prominent veins on his hands insinuates that the rest of his body is probably just as toned. But you’re immediately snapped out of your thoughts by your boss’ harsh voice calling your name.

“Aren’t you going to greet our guests?”

You breathe in sharply, heat flooding your face as you stumble your way through an apology and a polite “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”

You’re about to leave his side when he reaches out to grasp your hand — surprisingly gentle for such a powerful man. With a slight jump, you glance over to your boss who’s staring at you as though you’re becoming a nuisance and should quickly get back to your chair beside his. But you can’t, both because of Mr. Barnes’ hold and the fact that when you look back at the man in front of you his ocean-blue eyes pull you in, and you’re unable to break your gaze.

“And who might you be, darling?” His eyes twinkle with mischief but you’re too blind to see it, you’re too flustered to really focus.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about her, she’s just –”

“I wasn’t asking you,” Mr. Barnes snaps, briefly glancing at your boss and not bothering to hide his smirk when he almost visibly cowers. “Now, darling,” he continues, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “What’s your name?”

You nearly squeak, having to force yourself to tell him your name before he gets upset with your lack of answer.

Mr. Barnes hums, then brings your hand up so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You flounder for a moment, unsure as to what to make of the compliment. You don’t have much time to overthink it because this meeting has a time limit and you’re sure your boss would prefer to get this over with.

“Th-Thank you, sir.” You’re not sure why, but your voice is breathy because something about that word — sir — just feels right for him, though you’re not sure what it means.

“So polite,” He mumbles to himself, and his eyes seem to grow darker. Finally, he lets you go, shooting you a wink and smirking to himself when you scurry off to sit next to your boss.

The presentation went relatively smoothly — thank God. You don’t know what you would have done if anything went wrong. In fact, Mr. Barnes seemed extremely invested in what you had to say, catching your gaze several times and causing you to stumble over your words a few times, only for your boss to clear his throat and glare at you. Eventually, Mr. Barnes throws him his own glare, silently telling him to shut up, to which your boss finally does.

Once the meeting was declared to be over, you were quick to close your notebook and tuck your pen behind your ear, then you went around the table and started collecting the now-empty glasses. As you’re running around the room trying to clean up, you can feel a powerful gaze boring holes into your body, but you try not to pay it any mind. It’s probably just your boss anyway.

But when you turn away from the desk to finally leave, you bump into Mr. Barnes, your body nearly slamming into his very sturdy chest. His hands shoot to your hips almost immediately, helping to steady yourself.

The warmth of his body pulls you in, but that might also be because Mr. Barnes is literally bringing you closer to his chest by the hold he has on your hips. And that’s when you realize that your hands are clutching his shoulders, but you can’t find it in you to let go.

“What’s the rush?” He asks playfully, his upper lip quirking up in a smirk. “You’re running around like a little bunny.”

“Oh, oh I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes.” You’re not sure why you’re apologizing, you recognize that he’s just teasing, but something in you doesn’t want to disappoint him.

“Mr. Barnes.” He hums, his eyes briefly glancing down to your lips. “I like it when you call me that.”

Now you’re really flustered, your face heats up and you have to do everything in your power not to faint — the way his voice deepens is doing something to you and you don’t know how to handle it.

“I’d like it a lot more if you called me James, though. Can you do that for me, bunny?”

“Ye-Yes, James.” You might have been embarrassed about how quick you were to answer him, but the way he closes his eyes and tightens the hold he has on your body you’re thinking it was the right decision.

Mr. Barnes — James — opens his mouth again, but is interrupted by the door being opened by one of the office assistants, whose eyes immediately go wide in shock. It seems to take a second for her to gather her bearings, but she recovers soon enough.

“Mr. Walker is requesting you,” She tells you, glancing over at James and giving him a nervous smile. “He says you have to file all of the paperwork for the meeting.”

You sigh, you’re tired of having to do everything for your boss only for him to take credit ninety percent of the time. But, it’s what you’re paid to do, so you suck it up.

Looking back to James, you give him a shy smile, reluctantly removing your hands from his shoulders.

“Um, I guess I should go, James.” You’re a little sad, and you don’t quite know why having to leave him and go back to your duties makes you so anxious. It could be because Mr. Walker is mean, or maybe because James makes you feel safe. In reality, it’s probably a mixture of both.

“I guess you should,” He murmurs, removing one of his large hands from your waist so he can cup the back of your neck and pull you closer, only for him to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

And absolutely no one can blame you for the quiet whimper that leaves your lips, even though you are surprised by your reaction. It doesn’t matter though, because he finally moves back, letting go of you and reaching into the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket so he can pull out what looks like a business card.

“Here,” James says, handing it to you. “In case you ever want to talk, you’re always free to call me.”

“What would we talk about?” Your confusion causes James to chuckle, and he seems amused by your naivety.

“Whatever you want, Bunny. Whether you just want to talk about nonsense or vent about your boss. Doesn’t matter to me as long as I get to hear your beautiful voice.”

With that, he gives you a wink, then turns to the door and leaves, though he does glance back at you. With one final smile, he leaves, and you’re left with a million racing thoughts while standing in the middle of the meeting room.

It took three days for you to finally reach out to James. As soon as you got home that night you ran to your bedroom and added his number to your phone, going so far as to put his business card in your bedside table drawer so you wouldn’t lose it. It just took a little time to gain the courage to actually contact him. After all, what if he was just being friendly? You’ve never met anyone quite like him, so it’s hard to read into his actions.

But today had gone horribly. The café you frequent before work was so busy that you didn’t have time to grab your coffee without being extremely late, the bistro you were demanded to pick up lunch from was closed — and while it wasn’t your fault, Mr. Walker certainly seemed to think it was. Your workload was piled high and by the end of the day, you were on the verge of crying due to the stress and mean comments thrown at you by your boss.

You need a shoulder to lean on and, unfortunately for you, you don’t have anyone else to go to. You’re pretty sure your roommates hate you and only let you live with them because they haven’t found a new roommate yet, you don’t have siblings and your parents are states away, and you have maybe a few friends, but even then the communication is scarce.

You need a shoulder to lean on, and James offered his, so you finally decided to pull up his contact and start a new message. It takes several minutes to figure out what to say, but you eventually settle on something simple.

Hi, James. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Mr. Walker’s assistant. You gave me your number in case I ever wanted to talk.

You hit send and stare down at your phone anxiously as you wait for a reply. A minute goes by, then two, suddenly five, and then you’re starting to regret texting him, what if he doesn’t remember you? What if he’s busy? What if –

Your phone starts ringing, James’ name popping up on the screen and taunting you — almost commanding you to answer.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, bunny,” James says softly, and if you press your ear close enough to your phone you could pretend that he’s right next to you.

“Hi, James. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Your voice is soft and timid, you’d hate to disrupt anything he’s doing.

“Don’t be silly, bunny,” He says, his smile evident in his tone. “I always have time for you.”

“Oh, um. Thank you, sir.” It’s almost indescribable, but you can just make out the soft curse James lets out, followed by some shuffling.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

You’re a little apprehensive, but with James’ gentle encouragement, you’re able to get everything off your chest, complaining about your day and everything that went wrong. Each word spoken feels like weights lifting off of your shoulders, allowing you to breathe easier every time James hums. He doesn’t interrupt you, which you greatly appreciate, and by the time you’re done, you fall backward onto your bed, relieved.

“I’m sorry you had such a bad day, bunny,” James coos with his smooth-as-honey voice, filling your body with warmth and comfort. “A pretty girl like you doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.” That comment floods your face with heat and you shuffle up the bed to lean against the headboard.

“Oh, I - thank you, sir.” There it is again, sir. James exhales slowly as though he’s trying to control himself from doing something he shouldn’t, and part of you is momentarily worried that you’ve upset him somehow. You don’t want to disappoint him.

“What can I do to help?”

What can he do to help? You’re not quite sure, you’re not sad, and you’re not angry, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t need at least a hug right now. But, it would be too imposing to ask, right? There’s no way he would be willing to come over – that is, if your roommates would even allow him over. And he certainly wouldn’t invite a stranger into his house. So, you lie to him.

“Oh – Oh, no, James, I don’t – you don’t have to – it’s fine –”

“Bunny.”

Your mouth promptly closes, taking a deep breath through your nose and exhaling slowly.

“Sorry, James.”

“Don’t be sorry, bunny.” There’s some shuffling in the background as he talks and you can’t help but sigh at how sincere his voice is. “Now, what can I do to help?” And before you can even open your mouth he’s talking again, “Don’t say nothing, because I know there’s something you want.”

You’re silent for a moment, stewing over how to tell him. But, he’ll probably just be empathetic and say something along the lines of ‘I’d hug you if I were there right now’. So, you decide to just spit it out.

“I guess I just want… I just need a hug, I think,” You sigh, feeling a sudden sense of loneliness. It’s hard not having anyone to talk to, to be isolated even from the people you live with, to be put down time and time again, and not have anyone to support you.

“Where are you?” James asks, and you hear some more shuffling in the background, followed by the jingling of what sounds like keys.

“I’m at my apartment,” You say, confused. He couldn’t possibly be coming over, could he?

“Send me your address and I’ll come pick you up, we’ll go out for ice cream,” James says decisively, and you can tell he doesn’t want any protesting. “Bunny,” He says when you don’t say anything. “You need cheering up and I’m here to do just that. Please send me your address.” He speaks gently but once again, he doesn’t seem to want you to argue against it.

“O-Okay, I will.”

“Good, I’ll see you soon, bunny.” When you bid him goodbye, he hangs up, and you’re quick to send him your address, giving him instructions to text you when he arrives so you can meet him out front of the building.

During the next twenty or so minutes you’re practically running around your room trying to make yourself look presentable. You cried all of your makeup off so you opt to just wash the rest of it off, and then you pull your hair back and away from your face. It takes a bit to decide what to wear, after all this is just a friend taking another friend to get ice cream, but this is also James Barnes; he has more wealth than you could possibly imagine. You want to impress him and appear grateful for his friendliness, and looking at least half-decent would achieve that.

Finally, someone knocks on your door, yelling, “Someone’s here for you!”

With a rush of excitement, you grab your phone and wallet and slip on your shoes, then make your way out of your room to the front door where another roommate is standing in front of it, leaning against the frame and giggling at the person.

James.

He looks bored, almost like he’s trying to appear interested but can’t quite muster up the energy to do so. When you approach, he lifts his head, a wide smile crossing his face.

“There’s my little bunny,” He says confidently, completely ignoring your annoyed roommate. “Come on, let’s get you cheered up.”

With that you walk to him, timidly accepting his outstretched hand and letting him gently tug you into the hallway. When you turn around to tell your roommate that you’ll be back later you can’t even get a word out before you see her glaring at you and shutting the door — the click of the lock is audible through the empty hallway.

“Are they always like that?” James asks with a tone that conveys concern.

“Like what?” You know what he’s talking about, but you hate acknowledging it.

“Rude and disrespectful.” He is so blunt that it causes you to look down in embarrassment to avoid his intense gaze.

Yes, you want to say, they’re awful. You want to shout from the rooftops that your roommates are horrible to you, but you’re just too scared to do it.

“Oh – Oh, no, they’re just…” You trail off, peeking up at James to see the disbelief in his eyes. When you look down again, he brings up one of his hands to cup your cheek and guide your head up so you can look at him head-on.

“You don’t need to lie to me, bunny. I want you to trust me.” James sighs, leaning forward and placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Come on,” He squeezes your hand, smiling softly at you as he starts walking you out of the building and to his car.

It doesn’t take long to get to the ice cream shop, only a five-minute drive, and when you get there James keeps the car locked as he gets out so he can circle around to your side and open your door for you.

“Th-Thank you,” You say as you put your hand in James’ outstretched one, letting him guide you out of the car. He keeps his hold on your hand as you walk into the shop, going so far as to thread your fingers together while you wait in line.

The image of your hand encompassed by James’ large tattooed one has your tummy fluttering with butterflies. But, you must have been staring for a little too long because you’re broken out of your trance by James gently squeezing your hand.

“Is this okay, bunny?”

“Yes!” Heat floods your face as soon as you say it, feeling embarrassed by how quick you were to answer. “I, I mean. Um… Yes, it’s okay.”

James smirks at you, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. But, before you can stew in your shame, the man behind the counter says, “Next!”

You walk up to the counter, letting James order before giving yours. And when it’s time to pay, James doesn’t even drop your hand while he fishes his wallet out of his pocket and takes out his card. Your tummy flutters once again.

“Come, bunny.”

With your desserts now in hand, James leads you to a corner booth, only letting go of your hand so you can scoot in. He sits across from you, looking at you with what can only be described as thinly veiled hunger. It’s not off-putting, you just don’t know what it means.

“So, um…” You trail off looking down at your bowl of ice cream, fiddling with the spoon they gave you.

“You don’t need to be nervous, bunny,” James coos, reaching over and placing his hand palm up on the table, and you’re helpless but to take it, practically aching to feel his warmth again. “Now, other than everything that happened today, how have you been?”

It’s surprisingly easy to fall into a pleasant conversation with him, he asks questions and lets you finish talking before adding his own input, and he doesn’t break eye contact. It feels like he’s really listening to what you’re saying, and it’s almost freeing to have someone in your corner, someone you can trust and depend on.

What feels like far too soon, though has probably been several hours due to how dark it is outside, the man behind the counter comes to your table to tell you that they’re closing soon, and you can’t help but be sad. You’re enjoying James’ company far more than you probably should since you’ve only known him for a handful of days. It almost seems like you’ve known him your whole life.

“Well, bunny. I guess it’s time to go,” James says remorsefully, getting up out of the booth and reaching out his hand to help you out of the booth as well. He keeps holding your hand while you walk out of the door — making sure to throw away your trash on the way out.

James insists on opening the car door for you again — ever the gentleman. There’s a comfortable silence on the drive back to your apartment, your stomach swirling the entire time because James refuses to drop your hand. But when you get to your apartment building, a small amount of anxiety settles inside you, and you’re desperately hoping your roommates are asleep because you don’t feel like dealing with them after you’ve had such a good evening.

The silence is a little more tense while you ride the elevator up to your floor, but you’re grounded by James’ touch. It’s not until you get to your front door that you really look at him, staring into his twinkling eyes. And when he smiles, it settles your nerves.

“I guess this is the end of our night, bunny,” He says, squeezing your hand one last time before dropping it. Before you can mourn the loss of his touch he’s wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close to his chest, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hear the squeak you let out. You wrap your arms around his waist, letting James tuck your face into his neck while he holds you close.

“I had a wonderful time tonight,” James murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“Me too,” You say softly, breathing in and inhaling his comforting scent. “Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Of course, bunny. I’m always here for you.” Then, James pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Always.”

You can’t help but smile. His gaze is hypnotizing, pulling you in and almost refusing to let you go.

“Thank you, James,” You breathe out, and one last time, James squeezes you and kisses your forehead, then steps back.

“I’ll talk to you soon, bunny?” James asks, smiling wide.

“Y–Yeah, I’ll text you. Or you can text me. Or call, that’s–that’s fine too.” Heat floods your face in embarrassment, but you don’t feel too bad about it because James only smiles wider, nodding once.

“I will.”

“Goodnight, James.” With that, you turn and unlock your door, turning around to look at James one last time as you shut the door.

“Goodnight bunny, I hope you have dreams as sweet as you are.” James winks, and you swear you can hear him chuckle when you squeak out an “o-okay,” and shut the door.

And maybe James is some kind of wizard because you have the best night of sleep you’ve had in a while.

For the next few weeks you and James text almost every day, and talk on the phone every couple of days. You’ve met up with him a few times as well, accepting his invitations to lunch or coffee. Each outing would last for several hours, too enraptured by his… everything to be the one to suggest the night should end. You’ve come to trust him, you know with a possibly concerning amount of certainty that James would do everything possible to keep you happy and safe.

Roughly a month and a half after meeting James, you’re sitting on your bed in the same position you were in when you first called him crying. Unlike last time, though, you don’t hesitate to call him. He’s told you time and time again that it doesn’t even matter if he’s in a meeting, he’ll always make time for you. You just hope that’s true.

He picks up almost immediately.

“Hello, bunny,” James says with the same soft tone he always uses when talking to you.

“H-hi, James,” You manage to say, before breaking out into sobs. You’re nearly hyperventilating, trying and failing to catch your breath between hiccups, and it takes a few minutes to calm down enough to hear rustling in the background on James’ end.

“Are you at home?” He asks with the utmost concern.

“Ye-Yes.”

“Stay there,” He says, using what you’ve deemed his CEO voice. “I’m coming to get you.”

“Ja–”

“Bunny.”

You sigh, knowing you can’t change his mind – not that you really want him to. You could really benefit from a hug right about now and James always provides the best ones.

“Can you at least stay on the phone with me?” Your voice is small, still sniffling every few words. You don’t think you could handle being alone with your own thoughts right now.

“Of course. You know I’ll do anything for you.”

It takes James twenty minutes to get to you, and he talks to you the whole time, just menial things to get your mind off of your sadness. When he lets you know that he’s at your apartment, you don’t even wait for him to tell you he’s coming up, you simply grab your jacket and slip on your shoes, then run to the front door without so much as a word to your roommates in the living room.

“James!” Upon seeing the man himself standing next to his car, you fling yourself into his arms, taking deep breaths to prevent yourself from crying in public. “Thank you for coming.”

“Bunny, how many times do I have to tell you that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep a smile on your pretty face?” James’ tone is teasing, but you know he’s serious if his stern and concerned gaze is anything to go by.

You nod, blinking back tears. It’s so nice to have a friend like James Barnes; kind, chivalrous, attentive. With the way he acts sometimes, you’d almost think he’s interested in more than friendship, but you always shake that thought off. He’s too handsome and wealthy to date some random personal assistant who’s barely able to make her rent.

“Come on, bunny,” James moves back but keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, leading you to his car and helping you in. Like always, he waits for you to sit so he can strap you in your seatbelt, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before shutting the door then running around to the driver's seat.

This time, instead of taking a left at the light at the end of your block, he keeps going forward, taking turns until you’re not exactly sure where you are.

“Um, where are we going?”

“My house,” James says casually, briefly glancing at you so he can give you that ever-soft smile.

“But, isn’t your house only twenty minutes away?” You’re confused, and a little curious as to what he’s talking about.

“I only stay there when I have meetings in the city. I have a house a little further out where I live most of the time. It’s a little more lived-in, so I want to bring you there where you’ll feel a little more…” James pauses for a moment, glancing at you again. “At home.” His explanation makes sense in your brain, quickly squashing any nerves that you had. He’s rich, so of course he’d have multiple houses.

It’s almost an hour long drive to get to his house. Well, house feels like an inappropriate term for what it actually is. It’s more like a mansion, standing tall at three stories, a long driveway with trees lining either side of the road, and a luscious garden surrounding the property.

James helps you out of the car and guides you up the steps to the front door, where he unlocks it and lets you step inside. The moment you pass through the threshold your jaw nearly drops to the floor; a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling right when you step in and beautiful artwork adorns the walls. The open floor plan gives you a good view of the living room and kitchen from your vantage point, and you can’t wait to sink into the luxurious and almost comically large couch in front of the TV.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” James urges you further in, bringing you to the living room.

“Um, just water is fine.” You look up at him, smiling shyly and nearly tripping when he smiles back.

“I’ll be right back,” James says, watching as you sit and sink into the plush couch. “Make yourself at home.” The look in his eyes when he says it sparks something inside you, something warm and fuzzy. Thinking of James’ house as your home makes your tummy flutter, but you don’t understand why.

God, you need to get it together.

You’re left alone for a moment, and everything is quiet except for the fridge opening and the glasses clinking. James’ absence allows you a moment to breathe properly, being with him always leaves you flustered, though you can’t deny that some part of you likes it. You like his commanding nature, how deep his voice gets when he talks passionately about something, how warm his embrace is when he holds you for what might be a little too long, squeezing you like he doesn’t want to let you go.

“Here you go, bunny.” Suddenly, a glass of water appears in front of you, and you take it with a gracious smile and a small “thank you.”

“So,” He says, sitting next to you — really close — and throwing his arm over your shoulders, practically pulling you into his lap. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes, suddenly remembering how horrible today was. You force yourself to take a couple of sips of your glass but your hand starts shaking enough to where James takes your glass and sets it on the coffee table in front of you.

“Bunny—“

His soft voice causes you to start crying, throwing yourself into his chest and burying your face in his neck as you sob out your troubles. James’ hand is warm on your back, rubbing it soothingly and squeezing you close to him. This time, he actually pulls you in his lap, you’re grasping the front of his sweater while he maneuvers your body so you’re straddling his thighs, and you can’t help but scoot closer so you’re sitting on him properly with your body flush against his.

A few minutes of crying later and your tears have finally slowed, your sobs deforming into hiccups until you calm down enough to hear James cooing into your ear, whispering sweet nothings. When you finally catch your breath, you pull back, staring up at James with wide eyes and a pout.

“I-I… I was fired! Fired! And I don’t know what I’m going to do! Mr. Walker just tossed me to the side because a document went missing and he blamed me, and now I’m jobless and my roommates are definitely going to kick me out because I can barely make my rent as it is. What am I going to do?”

James sighs, rubbing one hand up and down your back and keeping his other on your waist, though they manage to sneak up your shirt a little without your notice.

“I’m sorry, bunny,” He starts, giving you a comforting smile. “It’s awful that happened to you, and it’s not your fault, so don’t go blaming yourself like I know you want to.”

Your face goes warm with embarrassment. How is he able to read you so easily?

“And as far as your living situation, you’ll move in with me.”

“James!” Your eyebrows furrow, your head automatically shaking. “No, no I can’t do that to you. I don’t have a job anymore and I definitely can’t afford to pay you rent, I-I can’t burden you like that.” Even though it hurts to say it, you want to be honest with him. Because how on Earth are you supposed to pay him back for this?

“You’re not a burden.” You’re surprised by his angry tone, and his eyes darken as though he’s challenging you to say otherwise. “You’ll never be a burden on me, bunny. I’m offering you this, I don’t want you to pay me.”

As though he can sense your hesitation, he gives you a playful smirk.

“But if you really want to help, how about you do the cooking and cleaning? I don’t always get a good home-cooked meal, and it’d be nice to come back from work to see you in a cute little apron.”

This makes you giggle, a weight lifting off your shoulders when you nod timidly. “I-I can do that. I’ll do anything.”

And while you had pure intentions with that statement, James takes it differently, his eyes darkening even further as he nibbles at his bottom lip.

“Anything?” He smirks wider when you nod eagerly because that’s what you are. Always eager to please — especially please James.

“Yes, anything!”

James hums, seemingly thinking something over, before sliding one of his hands up the back of your shirt.

“How about you give me a kiss? I haven’t had a good one in a while,” While he sounds like he’s teasing, his face shows he’s anything but.

He really wants you to kiss him. And, well, it’s not like you’re going to deny him, you’re too grateful for his generosity. Plus, you’d be insane to pass up such an opportunity, he’s handsome, kind, and makes you feel safe. So, with only a little hesitation, you lean down and press your lips against his in a simple peck, but before you can pull away James groans, placing one hand on the back of your head to keep you steady.

His lips practically attack yours, his tongue invading your mouth and taking what it wants – you. You don’t even know it but you’re whimpering almost immediately, opening your mouth and letting James consume you whole. He’s smiling against your lips, biting your bottom lip as he retreats for a moment so he can stare up into your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, bunny,” James whispers reverently like he’s hypnotized. And he’s not the only one. Your brain is quickly going silent, your sole focus is on James and how good he’s making you feel.

“Really?”

“So beautiful, I’ve always thought so.” His confession makes you whine, he thinks you’re beautiful, this gorgeous man with the deepest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Suddenly, James curses softly, grabbing your waist under your shirt, and that’s when you realize you’ve started subconsciously moving your hips against his.

“S-Sorry,” You mumble, though you’re not too sorry considering you can’t stop rolling down onto his lap, it feels too good.

“Don’t be.” James hums thoughtfully, leaning forward slightly and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Why don’t we go to my room? It’ll be more comfortable.”

You don’t even wait for him to finish before you start eagerly nodding your head, adjusting your legs as he stands so you can wrap them around his waist. He carries you to his room, smirking to himself the entire time because you can’t stop kissing and biting his neck in the hopes of leaving a mark, staking your claim. When you finally get there, James quickly shuts the door behind him and then drops you down onto the bed.

“Sir,” You whine when he doesn’t do anything, he’s only standing at the end of the bed, staring at you with eyes so dark with lust that you can’t see the blue of them.

“Don’t worry, bunny, I’ll take good care of you.” With that, he swiftly strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side, then undoes the button on his pants, slowly dragging down the zipper with a wide smirk at the haze in your eyes. “Do you want to help me?”

It takes a few moments for you to understand what he’s asking of you, but once you do you push yourself up, shuffling over to him until you’re sitting with your legs underneath your butt. For a moment you’re not sure what to do, you reach out for his pants but freeze mid-air because you just now realize that you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. You’ve never been in this situation before, your sexual exploits consist of goodnight kisses on the few dates you’ve been on, and your vibrator in your nightstand that has been working overtime ever since you met James.

“I-I’m sorry,” You murmur, embarrassment flooding your features.

“Why are you sorry, bunny?” James’ voice is soft, soothing your worries.

“I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never… been with a man before.” Your hands fall to your lap at the same time you hang your head. What if you disappoint him? You don’t know what you’re doing and you’d hate to mess anything up.

“I know, bunny. It’s okay.” James lifts your chin with his fore and middle fingers, guiding you to look at him again. “I’ll teach you everything.” His voice dips lower, his bottom lip getting trapped between his teeth when you smile, relieved.

“Now, I’m going to take off my pants, but I want you to take off my boxers. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” You say quickly, eyes dropping to his crotch as he begins pulling the denim down, down, down until it pools on the floor. He steps out of them, then steps in front of you with his arms hanging by his side. When he raises his eyebrow, nodding to his underwear, you reach out for him again, this time with only a small amount of hesitation. Your nerves are nearly off the charts, but knowing that James is going to guide you makes you feel better.

Your hands are shaking slightly when you pull them down, and absolutely no one can fault you for the loud gasp you let out when he’s finally bare because holy shit. Despite being relatively anxious and naive surrounding sex, you’ve watched your fair share of porn, and while the men in them did usually have big dicks, they seem small compared to James’.

You’re almost frightened, how the hell is that going to fit inside you? James chuckles, and you realize you probably said that aloud.

“Don’t worry, bunny. I’ll make it fit,” James groans, reaching down to grab the bottom of your shirt. “I’m going to take this off now, okay?” He tugs it up and over your head once you give your consent, tossing it to the side and cursing when he sees the light pink bra barely covering your breasts. James is biting his lip so hard you’re worried he might draw blood, but you don’t pay it any mind because he’s soon urging you to lay on your back with your legs dangling over the edge.

“Gonna take these off too.”

Giving him a shy smile and a nod, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, glancing up at you one final time to make sure you’re okay before he surprises you by pulling them off of your legs in one swift movement. You’re tugged down the bed a little, a shocked gasp leaving your lips.

“Fucking angelic,” James murmurs, dropping to his knees and placing his large, rough hands on your knees. He smirks when he sees your matching light pink panties, already soaking wet at the crotch. You have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering when he pushes your legs wide apart, but you can’t stop yourself from squirming when he doesn’t do anything else.

“James,” You whine, high-pitched and needy.

“Sir,” He reminds you with a raised eyebrow as though he’s daring you to say his real name again. And just for good measure, he surprises you by lifting up one of his hands and swinging it down onto your clothed pussy in a harsh swat, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Sir! I-I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s okay, little bunny,” James coos as he runs his hands up the back of your thighs so he can push them up and out, letting him get a good look at where you need him most. “Are you going to let me eat your pretty pussy?”

Even though it’s phrased as a question, you know James isn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. It’s not like you even want to tell him ‘no’, you’re too desperate for something, anything.

“Y-Yes, sir. Please.” Your begging makes him groan, and he quickly dips forward so he’s not even an inch away from your core, inhaling deeply and cursing again.

With a quick kiss to your covered clit, he twists his fingers into the band of your panties and rips them into pieces, and you know you’ll have marks from it. But you want them, you want evidence of this night, and you’ll gladly take anything he gives you. And no sooner than your panties off do James dive in, inhaling once more before his tongue sneaks out and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.

It’s at that point that you know you’re well and truly fucked, because there’s no way you’re not going to become addicted to the feeling of his tongue dipping into your quivering hole, the way he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks it into his mouth, the way he groans into your pussy like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

And it doesn’t take long for your legs to start shaking, desperately trying to close around James’ head but not being able to due to his hands gripping your thighs and holding them still. The filthy groans he lets out are enough to make you cum alone, but then he attaches his lips to your clit again and gently bites down, forcing an obscene moan out of your mouth.

He lets you get used to the pleasure, switching between fucking his tongue deep inside you and flicking at your clit, and only when he decides you’re ready does he manage to slide his forefinger in your pussy all the way to the third knuckle.

“Sir!” You can’t help but yell. Yes, it stings, but it’s far outweighed by the pleasure of his tongue assaulting your pulsating nub.

He wastes no time in slowly sliding it in and out, wiggling it around until you whine loudly, letting him know he’s found that special spot. You’re too out of it to realize it but James is smiling, clearly smug at how he’s making you react. You wouldn’t care anyway, in fact, he deserves it. He’s making you feel too good, especially when he slips in his middle finger and spreads them.

“Oh god! Yes, fuck. Sir, yes,” You’re incoherent, blabbering nonsense because your brain is too foggy to form a coherent thought. James picks up the pace, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it as he thrusts his fingers directly at your g-spot.

“Sir! Sir, I-I’m…” As soon as he started, he stopped, pulling out his fingers and leaning back slightly with a wide grin. His chin is coated in your juices, and the gleam in his eyes shows you that you’re not going to be able to cum so easily.

“Not yet, bunny,” James says when you whine pathetically, trying to buck your hips up into his mouth but unable to do so because of his commanding grip now holding your waist. “I’m not letting you cum until I’m inside you.”

James then climbs onto the bed, guiding you upwards to lay your head against the plush pillows so he can lean over your body. With little preamble, he snakes his arms around your back to quickly unclasp your bra and allow your breasts to spill free.

“I can’t wait to watch these bounce,” James groans, palming one of them, twisting and pinching at your nipple. James just laughs when you hiss, because your soaked pussy is enough to tell him that you’re loving what he’s doing.

“Bunny.” He says gruffly, and your eyes shoot up to meet his, though you can hardly see him because your vision is hazy, nothing matters except James. “Are you ready?”

You’re barely able to mumble ‘yes’, but you manage to do so, and James takes that as his cue to grasp the base of his cock and position it at your entrance. He places his other hand on your neck, lightly squeezing the sides to keep your eyes locked on his.

The pressure against your hole is immense, James telling you to breathe as he slowly pushes deeper. He stops about halfway through, giving you a moment for the pain to fade. He’s clearly having a hard time staying still but is cognizant enough to know you’re overwhelmed. It takes a few minutes of deep breathing before you finally nod, silently letting him know that he can move. And he does, pushing in all the way until his hips are flush with yours. Once again, he stills, leaning down to brush his lips over your cheeks and catch the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.

“H-Hurts, sir,” You whimper out, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him. And while your core is burning, James looks so damn proud that you’re taking him that it pushes away any discomfort.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Even though you’re in mild pain you’re pretty sure you’ll cry if he pulls out, you need everything he can give you. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t worry, bunny,” James coos, then tightens his grip around your neck ever so slightly. “I’ll give you what you need.” And as though a switch was flipped, James pulls back, pausing for half a second before thrusting forward.

“Ahhh!” Your mouth drops open as you scream, your arms coming up to claw at James’ shoulders and back as he gives you all he has.

And he has a lot to give. He puts his back into fucking you, keeping one hand around your neck and using his other arm to pull your left leg over his shoulder. Sweat beads at your hairline, your eyes stinging with tears, your whole body lit on fire. At this moment, nothing matters except the delicious burn between your legs, the way your body is shoved further up the bed with each of James’ powerful thrusts until it gets to the point where he has to place the hand around your leg on the headboard to steady you.

“Fuck, bunny, you feel so good. You’re so good for me.” James can’t stop mumbling praises, and even though you can’t really hear them, you feel them. Your eyes don’t move from his, even as he glances down to where your bodies are joined. “Fuck, little bunny. Your pussy looks so good stuffed full of my cock, knew you’d take me so well.”

“S-Sir,” You whimper, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts and digging your nails into his skin. But James doesn’t seem to mind if the way his whole body shudders and his hips slightly lose their rhythm is anything to go by.

“Are you gonna be a good little bunny and cum for me?” James moves his gaze back up to your face, chuckling when he sees how fucked-out you already are. Despite his hand still around your neck you manage to nod, little cries and whines escaping into the air every time James’ cock gets shoved against your cervix.

“Yeah, you are,” James continues, leaning over your body even more and shifting so the tip of his dick hits your spot with every thrust. “You’re going to squirt all over my cock so I can cum deep in your cunt. Gonna cum in you every day, keep you full of me, maybe even plug you up to make sure it sticks.”

You’re right there, your pleasure climbing higher and higher until you’re ready to fall off the edge. James’s next sentence sends you there.

“Fuck, bunny. You’re going to be the perfect little mommy to all the children I’m gonna give you.”

When you wake up, James will tell you about how you came so hard that you blacked out, squirting and gushing around his cock while he continued telling you how even more beautiful you’ll be when you’re pregnant, taking care of him and his home, how he knew you were the one for him from the moment he first saw you. Your things will already be moved into his house. New clothes chosen specifically for you will be hung up in his closet and the bathroom will be adjusted to fit your products. The kitchen is going to be filled with all the food you like. And your cat will be curled up in a miniature hammock in her very own room.

When you wake up, you’ll see how much thought James put into redecorating his home just for you.

And you’ll be too grateful for his kindness to question where he put your birth control.

main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart / @buckysprettybaby / @sushiseoks / @heytheredelulu / @somnorvos / @ozwriterchick / @pxgeturner / @gentlelimerence

bucky taglist: @justsebstan / @myfavbuckyfics

#let me know what yall think!!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic rec #james barnes #james barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #dark!bucky barnes #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo!bucky #dark!bucky #james barns #bucky barns #bucky barns imagine #my writing #my stuff

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writingouthere · 8 months

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singlemom!reader x neighbor!sukuna. you miss having a baby and Sukuna is dying from a combination of your sexual tension, his lowkey(highkey) baby fever and the drudgery of attending a child's birthday party

cw: Sukuna's breeding kink, red flags are present and accounted for, no one gets laid tho so sad face. this actually ended up being way more sincere and heartfelt than I intended but honestly very typical of me

"Oh we're not together, Sukuna's just been letting me and Bug crash while we look for an apartment."

"Oh he's not my boyfriend, we're just friends!"

"He's actually not Bug's dad. No, no. But, they get along really well. She enjoys having someone else to hang out with aside from me, I think."

Your laughter after the last one plays on repeat as he goes to grab the two of you some refreshments. Sukuna feels like he's living the world's worst version of groundhog day, except instead of being some sad loser who relives the same day over and over, he's apparently a sad loser who is going to live the same conversation over and over again.

"Fuck this shit."

"Um, excuse me but could you watch your language. This is a kid's birthday party." Sukuna wants to ask the bitch who is correcting a grown man's language if he would mind watching his own fucking business but you seem to care about what these losers think and he won't make life difficult for you.

If he happens to step on the guy's foot as he leaves with two cups and a juice box caught in his elbow, well, his steel toed boots need the exercise.

Sukuna knew that if any of his acquaintances, he didn't have friends after all, could see him now, they would die laughing. Die ,because he would kill them for laughing, but fuck he couldn't even really blame them, even in his hypothetical.

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a feared criminal. People pissed themselves when he cornered them in a dark alley. Other bad guys would look at him and say, "wow that guy's a real piece of shit" and now look at him. Stuck at some three year old's birthday party. One more kidzpop butchering of an already shitty song away from committing another felony.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he knew he was at least getting some pussy out of it, but he had just spent the past two hours hearing you deny him to anyone who asked and it was really starting to get to him.

He knew he was being a little bitch about it, and he wasn't upset just because you weren't fucking him. He was upset that all the things you were telling people, they were technically true. He was just letting you and your daughter crash. He was just your friend, not your boyfriend. Even the comments about him not being Bug's dad, but him being positioned as some kind of really invested babysitter, those might have stung more than the ones about your relationship but you thought that was true too.

Thinking about the kid made him look for her, not that Sukuna ever wasn't aware of where you and your daughter were. It had become instinct before he was even aware of it.

Bug was laughing with some kids he recognized from daycare and others from their regular trips to the park. Her happiness was contagious and Sukuna found his lips twitching up at the ends despite his shitty mood.

Your daughter's eyes found him from across the playground. "kuna!" she called, waving her little hand at him. He waved back with his available hand and made his way towards her. She met him halfway, her little legs unsteady on the wood chips but she didn't seem to notice. She was always like that when she saw him, she ran fearlessly. Maybe she just trusted he'd catch her.

Was it so wrong of him that he didn't like the reminders she wasn't his. That it stung, not just because of his feelings but because it just couldn't be true. He might not have fathered her, but fuck anyone who said this little girl wasn't his.

"I got you a juice, you've been running around so much you gotta be thirsty."

"Not thirsty," Bug argued leaning into him. He held up his hands that were holding the grown up drinks for the two of you, and moved the package still lodged in the crease of his elbow towards the petulant toddler. "Take it, or I'll drink it."

Bug stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed it. She struggled to get the wrapping off the straw and Sukuna didn't even notice what he was doing until she had the straw stretched out towards him and he was pulling the wrapper off with his teeth. He spit it out on the ground as your daughter gave him a polite thank-you and then walked away, sipping her juice as she went to catch up with her friends.

What had become of him?

"Need a hand?" You smile at him and Sukuna hands over your cup before taking a sip of his own. There was unfortunately no alcohol in it but drinking it occupied his mouth before he acted like a pussy and asked you, "what are we?" or "should we get married?" or something equally as pathetic.

"God, I want a baby."

Sukuna almost spit out his drink but he manages to tone it down to just a little cough before turning to look at you. You don't even seem a little embarrassed which is just infuriating. Sukuna's about to make a suggestion on how he can help with that when you sigh and point to where some loser is holding their ugly baby.

"Aren't babies just the cutest, I miss when Bug was that age."

Oh, so this was just you looking at other people's red-faced brats and feeling nostalgic and was not in fact a call to action. Sukuna rolled his eyes and leaned back on the hand closest to you so he didn't touch you as he was so tempted to do these days.

"That baby, like all babies, is hideous. All they do is cry, shit themselves and vomit and I'm not even sure Bug is the exception to that and she's the best kid there is."

You look touched at his affection for your daughter but also fired up on behalf of babies everywhere.

"You can't just say a baby is hideous, Sukuna. Those are the Zenin's. Bug is friends with some of them."

"Well are the older ones cuter, because that baby looks like someone fucked one of those hairless cats."

"Sukuna!" you hiss but he sees you smile, despite yourself. "Okay, maybe that baby isn't like the cutest baby-"

"Hideous."

You continue after smacking his arm. "But Bug was cute, okay. And I'm not just saying that because I'm her mom." You take out your phone and quickly swipe until you get to what you're looking for. "See, cute baby."

Sukuna grabs your phone and looks. It's not the first picture he's seen of a young Bug and he's taken his share of photos of her himself, but he finds himself taken in by it anyway.

It has to be a picture from when Bug was really young, she still had the scrunched up, red face that he associates with newborns. But he thinks you're right, she's still cute. He doesn't know if it's because he knows that baby will grow up to be your daughter, but he finds his thumb caressing her little baby cheeks, the wisps of hair he can see peaking out from where she's wrapped in a baby blanket. It's then he sees she's not alone in the picture and there's a different version of you holding her.

The thing that stands out to him is how tired you look. He thinks this couldn't have been too long after you gave birth but still, he wondered if you'd gotten any rest those first few months. You still didn't like talking about your ex, or the circumstances that had led you to his apartment, but Sukuna knew that chances are you were taking care of Bug single handedly and that couldn't have been easy, cutest kid or not.

"She was beautiful, she still is." He reluctantly hands the phone back to you and you look at the picture again, tears building up in your eyes.

"She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I-I wish that the circumstances were different in how I got her. Sometimes, I wonder how I'll explain everything to her when she's older. She just deserves so much better than him, you know?"

"You both do." Sukuna reaches over and brushes away one of the tears that had managed to fall down your cheek. He leaves his hand there a moment, holding your cheek in his palm, just appreciating the warmth.

"Do you want any?"

"What?" Sukuna isn't sure what you're talking about anymore. He can only see your lips right in front of him, the way that your eyelashes brush against your cheek as you blink faster and faster.

"Babies, do you want any?"

Something short circuits in Sukuna's brain and he wants to say, fuck yes.

He wants to tell you that he thinks about it every day. Every time you put Bug on your hip or send him youtube videos of hairstyles you want to try on her. Whenever it's late at night, and little feet pad out of your room and Bug asks him in the loudest whisper he's ever heard, if he can get her some water because she's so thirsty.

He thinks about it when the sun streams through the curtains of his apartment in the morning and it lights up your hair as you move throughout the kitchen, a force of nature, a creature from somewhere far too good to have ended up here with him.

He thinks about it when the three of you go out and people just assume you're a family, because of course you're a family. When you and Bug play some made up game, or Bug gets tired even though she denies it and he carries her sleeping form against his chest. When he holds her in his lap on the subway and you lean to rest your head on his shoulder and he feels like this, this is what he's always wanted.

He's not all pure and good though, because he thinks about it late at night in his bedroom too. After a day of your smiles, of seeing your thighs stretch out of those sleep shorts you started wearing when the weather warmed up, whenever he remembers the feel and smell of your panties when he's lucky enough to find a pair in the laundry basket, he thinks about how the two of you would make some really cute fucking babies.

He's imagined it a million ways. He's imagined you telling him you've gone off your birth control and you need him now after he takes you out on an anniversary dinner. Or him crowding you up against the kitchen counter and you begging him to put a baby in you.

His favorite fantasy is currently one where you get so carried away when you finally finally fuck that you don't ask him to wear a condom and he spends the whole night making sure you're nice and good and full of him and when you tell him a few weeks later you missed your period, he'll let you freak out. But then he'll tell you that he'll take good care of you, and Bug, and your soon to be little one and he'll finally have you, all of you and once you have your second, he'll knock you up again, as many times as he can because there could never be too many mini-you's running around.

At this point, Sukuna remembers he's talking to you, the real you and he swallows a few times before he speaks.

"I do," he says simply but something must show on his face because you're looking at him in a way you never have before. He hears your breath hitch and he leans in to kiss you, and you smell so good and his thoughts are consumed by the little family he just knows you're going to have when suddenly he's pelted by a variety of sharp, little objects.

Sukuna immediately holds up his arm to shield you from what he now sees is a barrage of wood chips which are being thrown at you by an army of toddlers, including your daughter.

You immediately get up and start talking to the kids about the danger of throwing what are basically large future splinters at people's faces and Sukuna is contemplating the murder of every child that isn't his own when you turn to look at him.

You're not just looking at him, you're seeing him and oh. Maybe he would be getting laid tonight, after all.

The slow burn is almost done folks.

thank you to the amazing reception to this series and the one-shot I posted(which there will be a prequel of soon!). it's literally so insane. Masterlist will be up tomorrow which I hope helps with accessibility!

edit: masterlist is up!

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x singlemomreader #sukuna ryomen smut

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peachysunrize · 2 months

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Owned ⥃ Prince Regent!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After nearly following Silverwing to Dragonstone mindlessly, Aemond comes back to the keep to posses you, his Queen once more.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! A tad bit dark!Aemond! There is noooooo plot, brainless smut, absolute filth and dirt and fucking, rough Aemond, possessive Aemond, READER IS AEGON’S WIFE!! public sex! Balcony sex inspired by Aemond’s scene s2e7, breeding, no prep, Aemond is mad and angry, very very rough sex, please tell me if I’ve missed something! English isn’t my first language<33

Word count: 1.5k

My other works

A/n: no words. No plot full of porn. Enjoy my freaky folks! Thank you @thekinslayed for feeding my delusions🤭 Reblogs & comments are appreciated🩷 also not a word is beta-ed.

You watch the buzzing city silently from the council room’s balcony, sighing when the large shadow of Vhagar looms over the sight, her screech cutting through the air with force. You can feel the restlessness in her, it must be Aemond who is raging from inside as he guides her outside the city towards the hill where she rests most of the time.

You look down at the castle’s grounds; the chill in the air has become a nuisance for the gardeners, bringing the flowers to their deaths faster than expected, just like how the infection spreads through your husband’s body.

With another sigh, you look at the hill Vhagar lands on, the ground shaking beneath her heavy weight. You know it will be some time until Aemond arrives at the castle, but the idea of him being enraged with how a dragon was claimed and the Blacks now have the upper hand makes you worried; you do not know how to calm the wild dragon within him.

You wait until you crane your neck and see him returning on the horse, barging through the castle gates before he jumps down from the saddle, taking long strides towards the entrance with fury bursting through his veins.

Fiddling with your hand, you hear his rushed footsteps approaching the council room, each step has your heart racing — with what? You do not know, or you do not wish to acknowledge it. After all, this silly little affair that the council has bestowed on you to produce an heir has turned into something more, or at least the numbers you have warmed each other’s beds cannot be counted with fingers anymore.

Your head snaps towards the direction of the door, watching as Aemond walks past the guards, ordering them to go out with bark in his tone, fists clenching and unclenching as he tries to keep his anger at bay, but ultimately fails, and the next thing you know is the heavy chair of the council is being thrown and Aemond slams his fists on the table, groaning in anger and frustration.

“They have more dragons,” he whispers, but you hear the sound of his rough breathing, “they can end this war if I do nothing!”

“My prince, you should—“

“I should what?” He looks up from the marble table, glaring at you with his good eye, “Listen to your advice? Letting my council run the realm while I do fucking nothing?”

“Maybe you ought to put your arrogance aside for once—“

Aemond walks towards you on the balcony, his face hardening as he grabs your jaw tightly, smirking as he sees your lips quivering not in fear, but more in determination to show you are more than what the council wants you to be. And with your pretty thighs rubbing together, he knows how every minor actor of his has you putty in his hands.

“My arrogance, My Queen, is the only reason the walls of this castle haven’t fallen yet,” he leans down, his nose brushing against yours roughly as he whispers against your lips, “Not everyone can sit prettily in a gown and wait for her prince regent to come and fuck an heir inside her.”

“Your arrogance and bruised ego are why they have more dragons than us. You could have kept your ambitions from blinding you at Rook’s Rest, maybe then, our King would be able to fight with you at the battlefield—“ you are cut off by a gasp as he turns you around and bends you over the balcony stones harshly.

Your chest comes in contact with the cold stone and you slap your hand on your mouth as a loud moan erupts from your lips when Aemond presses his entire body to your backside, feeling the hard bulge in his pants rubbing against your covered thigh.

“My ambitions are why your filthy inappropriate fantasies have come to life,” he leans over you, his teeth finding their way to the sensitive skin of your neck, sinking into the flesh without a single thought, “did you not tell me you wish it was me taking you every night instead of my brother? Yes, yes, it was you. Just as it is you who will take my cock until my seed has taken root, and my babe — our future King — licks at your womb.”

You bite down on your fingers hard, grinding your hips back into his crotch as soon as he pushes the layers of your gown up to your waist, chuckling when he sees you shivering the moment your bare heated sex is exposed to the open air.

“We should not be doing this here! What if someone hears?” You ask Aemond, throwing your head back when he swipes his fingers through your wetness, humming before he reaches for the loops of his belt, pulling his pants and breeches down before he grabs his cock, stroking it a few times to full hardness.

“Let them hear, let them hear their queen doing her duty. There is no better way to show them how the heir to the throne was conceived,” he replies, one hand bracing himself on your shoulder blades to keep you completely bent over and unable to move while the other lines up his thick leaking head with your entrance before he enters you swiftly with one smooth stroke.

“Aemond!” You cry out, your fingers falling from your lips as he sets his pace, fucking you recklessly and with abandon, not caring if anyone hears you, or better, sees you.

“Yes, My Queen? Already screaming my name? I almost pity my brother, almost. Gods know if you have not screamed “Aemond” in his ears,” he smirks to himself when you grab the edge of the stone, your body moving with each thrust.

“Fuck, fuck—“

“Yes, that’s right—“ he groans, his hand gripping your hip tightly, “you were always mine, fucking mine. Even when you shared his bed, you were thinking of me, wishing and praying that one day you will be owned by me.”

“Yes, My Prince, yes!” You moan, not thinking if anyone would hear you, it did not matter anyway since the words of your affair and marital activities have reached the whores of the Flea Bottom.

“Oh, sweet Queen of mine, I have possessed you; first with words, now with my cock. We only need a babe to seal our bond,” he reaches around your body, finding your pearl in seconds as he starts rubbing quick circles on the nerves, making you arch your back and meet his thrusts as best as possible.

You can only nod at his words, truly succumbing to his and your desires once and for all, the pleasure only adding to his determination to fuck you, and you to show your devotion to him.

“They have more dragons, I have a cunt worth dying for. I guess I shall win this war.”

Suddenly, the doors to the council room open, and the cupbearer drops the jar of wine on the floor when he sees the two of you on the balcony, you moaning and Aemond fucking you.

The sound catches Aemond’s attention immediately, pulling out of you slowly before he waltzes towards the balcony doors, looking the man dead in the eyes and cock out before he demands; “Out, now,” and slams the doors shut.

He comes back, his fingers wrapping around his dick before he sees you straightening your back a little. He has no time for silly little games, his balls are aching and the image of your swollen cunt is too much for him to let you go and find a better place to resume your activities.

“Aemond—“

“Hush you,” he pushes you back down, bending you over once more before he thrusts his cock back into your welcoming cunt, groaning in sync with your shriek as your warmth envelops his length, “just take it, yes, take it. No one can stop me from taking what’s mine. I will fuck you day and night for fortnights to come, I will have you, mark you as mine until everyone smells me on you.”

Even the idea of it has you shaking and trembling as your peak hits you hard and fast, the pleasure rushing through your veins as you gush around his cock. Hands bracing your body on the stones, you cry out his name, drawing Aemond closer to his high.

He follows not long after, grabbing your waist with both hands before he hammers himself into you roughly, stilling his hips harshly against yours, caging your body between his and the balcony stones as he empties his balls inside you, ropes of his cum painting your inside while he throws his head back, chest rising and falling rapidly.

There is no doubt in your head anymore, that Aemond has possessed you in more than one way, more than one place. After all, he will go to war barehanded if he can come back home to you and your heavenly cunt.

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x aegon’s wife #dark aemond targaryen #rue:smut #rue:darkcontent #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #hotd smut

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krosiefics · 2 months

Text

would you like that? • bang chan

M D N I 18+

WC: 1.4k

Summary: Bang Chan is having too much fun teasing Stays on Bubble while he’s supposed to be working, he suddenly starts teasing you as well and that escalates to well…

A/N: lmfao I honestly called us (stays) out for writing shit on the internet but I like to think of it as ‘creative writing’ Also this isn’t proof read so, sorry abt any typos or mistakes :P

Tags: afab!reader, softdom!bangchan, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), grinding, overstimulation, ass grabbing(?)-not ass play), teasing, pet names (babe, baby, good girl, pretty, etc), breeding kink, I’m prob forgetting some so sorry

Chan giggled at his phone as he saw the flow of flustered responses to his latest Bubble message. “You’re teasing them too much.” You shake your head, peeking over his shoulder reading all of Stay’s responses. “No I'm not.” He scoffs, “They’re far worse than you could ever imagine.” It’s true and you know it, Stay’s write all sorts of things about the members online.

(a/n ;-;)

As one of Stray Kids’ managers, your job is to handle their social and music media, so you’ve seen things…things you probably shouldn’t have. Chan knows this and so he uses all these teases towards Stay as an advantage. “Let’s see, what should I say next?” Chan ponders to himself as you sit down on the sofa that sat behind his desk, you open your computer and as you’re about to start working on a new draft a loud giggle startles you.

Chan is curled up in his chair, kicking his feet giddily while looking at his phone. Growing annoyed at the man who is supposed to be working with you on new lyric drafts, you get up from your spot and snatch his phone gently from his hands. “Hey!” Chan pouts as you read the screen. Your face immediately heats up as you read the highly suggestive comment he left on someone’s post about pudding. “Chan, that's highly inappropriate!”

Chan was going to snap back but then noticed your face’s sudden change of color and he smirked. “Would you like that?” He teased, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite tell. It’s not abnormal for you two to playfully tease or flirt with each other, it helps ease the awkward moments of silence that sometimes fall between you. But this…this was different, it was as if he was testing you, to see if you’d give in to all of your playful remarks you’ve made over the past few years of knowing each other.

“What?” You breathe out shakily. Chan licks his lips, his eyes flickering down to your soft plump lips. Oh what he would do to feel them against his. Chan knows he shouldn’t think like this, especially since you’re one of his managers…yet he still craved you, there was just something about you. Chan’s hands crept up the sides of your legs, gripping at your hips and tugging you closer to him.

Due to the sudden tug, you almost topple on top of him, you hold yourself above his head on the headrest of his chair. Your face felt so hot, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the way your stomach fluttered, the way your breathing became hitched…all because of this man’s sudden change of teasing. “I’m not kidding.” Chan sighs, leaning his face into your neck. You could feel his breath fanning across your skin, it sent chills down your spine.

The sudden touch of his lips to your skin instantly made you jolt, but he held you in your place not wanting to let go of this moment. “Please.” Chan whispered as he continued to pepper your neck with wet kisses.

You didn’t know what was happening anymore, it all went so quick. His teeth grazed over your collarbone and you gasped in response, your hands flying to his hair. Now with the loss of support from the headrest, Chan easily sits you in his lap, having you straddle his lap. Your breathing fastens as you feel him nibble at your skin, biting your lip not to let any sounds come out.

Chan’s hands snake around towards your ass and grab it, massaging the flesh. You let out an accidental moan at his action, you bury your face into his neck out of embarrassment. “It’s okay baby, it’s just us here right now, it's too late for anyone else to be here. So you can be as loud as you want, yeah.” Chan starts leaving kisses on the top of your head.

You whimper at his noises and he chuckles, as he adjusts his seating position you feel something hard poke at you. You pull away from his neck to look down at what it was, your face turns even redder. The outline of his hardened cock bulging from his jeans.

Your mind filled with the possible outcomes on what could happen if you stop this or if you let this continue. There were too many risks, but so many benefits. You wanted the man underneath you, you always have. Chan’s overall personality is what attracted you to him initially, but the more spent time with him the more you realized that this guy is insanely hot, handsome, talented, caring, and a billion other positive things. You knew you couldn’t have him though, it was wrong.

But right now, you didn’t care. You didn’t care how wrong this was. You let your lust and desire take over you.

You experimentally rolled your hips against his, Chan responded with a low groan, his grip on your hips tightening. “Fuck that feel good babe, don’t stop.” And you didn’t. You rubbed against him until his breathing was fast like yours, his eyes screwed shut from the pleasure, and his face red and hot. Then you stopped.

Chan whined softly, his eyes fluttered open as he stared up at you. You carefully removed yourself from his lap. “Wait.” Chan simpered, lifting his body to get up after you. You simply placed a hand on his chest to keep him seated there. You walked over to the door and locked it, even though there shouldn’t be anyone here at this hour, it still didn’t hurt to be careful. Chan was about to beg you to stay when he saw you walking away, but he stopped as soon as he saw you lock the door, excitement flooding through his body.

“One time.” You pointed with your finger as if to make a statement, “This is only happening one time.” You quickly slide your shorts and underwear off which reveal a wet patch on the pantie liner from your arousal. Chan stared at you in awe as he saw your glistening cunt, he was quick to follow suit in taking off his jeans and sliding his boxers down as well.

You swing your leg over his lap sitting hovering above his hard cock. “Pretty girl I’ve gotta stretch you out first or it’ll hurt.”

“You’re not that big Bang.” You poke, it was a lie he was big, not super massive but definitely above average to the point where it probably might burn.

You grab his cock which makes the messy haired boy hiss, aligning up to your entrance before sinking on to it. It did burn, but it was tolerable, you just focused on the fact that it’ll feel better soon. To distract you from the pain Chan started rubbing soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs, he shushed as you started moving your hips in circles.

“Oh fuck.” Chan moaned after you finally adjusted, your hips letting up before smacking back down. “I’m gonna fill this pussy up so much right baby. You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up.” You throw your head back as Chan helps you with lifting your hips. You hum, nonsensically agreeing to whatever it is that Chan wants at that moment.

“Yeah, you’ll fill me up so good.” You moan.

Chan suddenly starts forcefully thrusting up into you, directly hitting your g-spot. “Oh fuck!” You almost scream, you quickly catch yourself by biting down onto Chan’s shoulder. He groaned as your teeth sunk into his skin, but he wasn’t complaining, cause now he’s gonna have a mark that reminds him of right now.

“C’mon babe, I’m almost there…shit,” Chan pushed your hips down as he rutted into your leaking cunt. You held onto him as the feeling of that familiar knot in your stomach started tightening, “Me too.” You shut your eyes as you allowed your orgasm to come putting down over you, you slumped against Chan’s chest as he continued plummeting into you.

You cried at the overstimulation, “I know baby, I’m sorry- I’m cumming.” Chan buried his face in your neck as he spilt inside of you.

The warmth of him filling up your insides. Chan carefully pulled out and cleaned you up with the small box of tissues that was at the corner of his desk. . And as if nothing, the two of you both went back to working on the lyrics. Occasionally sparing lustful glances at one another. Chan realized he’s not gonna be able to tease Stay again without thinking of you.

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tottentz · 3 months

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LOSE FACE .ᐟ ── honkai star rail ?! ❛ 'cause baby this won't last ❜ 🗝 ﹢を ˒ㅤ ft. aventurine & dr. ratio, boothill & dan heng, sampo & gepard, jing yuan & blade.

𓆩♡𓆪 WARNINGS ! mdni. female reader, reader is a little desesperate, ambiguous relantionship, threesome, pet names ( princess, sweetheart ), sub / dom undertones, oral ( receiving ), deepthroating, handjob, praising, facesitting, orgasm denial, begging, hair pulling, spitroasting, size kink / if you squint, lil manhandling. ♡ˎˊ˗ ֶָ֢⊹𐙚 DESCRIPTION ! these two men will be the end of you. you just know it / or, in which sometimes three is better than two.

mature content ahead + please take care of yourself before proceeding !

aventurine & dr. ratio .ᐟ

"you're awfully quiet," aventurine murmurs, lips grazing the cut of your jaw as he pries open the lapels of your dress shirt.

"i'm not the one who talks so much no one in the room can think," veritas tells him. focused. ratio continues, and you gasp when he gingerly kneads the spill of your breasts—his cold fingers against your fever-pitched skin.

"you seem to be enjoying yourself, doctor," aventurine says coquettishly, but you can't even snap at him for being so coy. not when he's slowly hauling his cock out of his pants. he chuckles when ratio makes a sound something akin to a huff. "lies only breed ignorance, don't you think, princess?"

"arrogance too, it seems," veritas says, as he strips you down to your underwear, you don't dare to take your eyes off aventurine, who languidly pumps his length in a tight fist.

he bares his teeth in a teasing smile, telling you how naughty you're being, lusting over another man when ratio is already sinking to the floor to—

"w-wait, veritas?" you startle as he hoists your leg over his shoulder. "you don't have to do that..."

veritas is stronger. taller and bigger than the both of you, but veritas holds your thighs in a grip that's not meant to bruise. you have too much power. veritas always gives you too much power.

ratio ignores you and kisses your lower stomach, tongue darting out to lick right above your clit, but missing it on purpose for a few inches. you whine, complaining at his edging. aventurine is laughing at you by the way your thighs shake. the amount of teasing makes you wetter and more desperate by the second, and you are about to make a retort about it when you feel veritas mercilessly sucking hard on your clit.

head thrown back and hips bucking into ratio's mouth, you clutch his hair, hold secure around his dark locks, and automatically shove his face into your cunt, all the while aventurine flutters to your side, guiding your hand towards the hard length pressing against his abdomen.

"good," he praises when you wrap your fingers around him, pleasing aventurine just as much as veritas is pleasing you. "you love it when all the attention is on you, hm?"

you can hardly balance yourself anymore—relying on aventurine to steady you all while you give him the most uncoordinated handjob you've ever given.

before you can even process the undertones of what he just said, veritas curls his long digits inside you, coaxing a long-winded moan that you helplessly stifle with your hand.

"your thighs are quivering so much for him. i'm a little jealous. you were never this wrecked with me." aventurine licks at your fingers, putting two of them into his mouth, tongue sensually gyrating around them. it has you distracted for a moment, until you feel veritas’ lips back to work, this time on your inner thighs.

"that's probably because you spoil her too much," veritas comments with a huff.

"you hear that, sweetheart?" aventurine breathes into your ear, chuckling. "the doctor says i spoil you too much. is that true?"

and at that point, you can't even bring yourself to care anymore.

boothill & dan heng .ᐟ

“seems like she’s very interested in your cock,” boothill laughs, moving around so he could press himself in front of you, despite knowing you’re already gaping at dan heng's.

you feel dan heng's erection poking the side of your lower back, hot and so hard you tremble. his cutthroat honesty sends a guilty thrill through your veins, making you tingle everywhere his skin meets yours. dan heng doesn't waste any time, pushing your stuffy uniform off your shoulders as he practically tears through the rest of your clothes.

“not yet.” dan heng answers simply. he seems to tease, but he also seems concerned.

“yikes, ya gonna tease me all night?” boothill asks.

“i can’t imagine you’re actually worried,” dan Heng said. “you practically got on your knees and begged me to do this.”

"son of a— " you don't hear the rest, don't even know who said that, because you are grabbing boothill's face and pulling him into a kiss that instantly shuts you up and melts you into a puddle of need.

he complies easily; he kisses you like a starved man – matches his horny personality a lot –, with passion and ferocity, like he was deprived for months of any physical contact and finally has the greatest dessert he could ever have all for himself. boothill traces his fingers through your cheek, grazing softly at it, a big contrast to how he grasps the back of your head seconds later.

"will be good for you," you whisper, passing your middle finger through your hot folds once. you shiver at the brief contact, forcing yourself to stay still. "fuck me, please?"

you reach for boothill's shoulders and resting one of your hands there. the other one goes for your panties, pulling it to the side. it reveals your wet hole, blinking at dan heng in neediness. you make a show of arching your back and sticking your ass at him, content with the surprised expression washing all over his face.

“always so willing,” boothill murmurs as he braces his hands on your ass, massaging your supple flesh with reverence that should be reserved for gods alone. “i aint’ getting tired of seeing you so depraved for us.”

as if their minds are completely in sync, dan heng eases a finger inside you, and the texture of his cold fingers against the tight walls of your pussy makes you clench your thighs around his hand. boothill seems to like your reaction though, because boothill is merciless in the way he assaults your clit with the fervor of his digits.

“sensitive,” dan heng appreciates, flicking one of your nipples with his fingers. you whimper, unprepared for the sudden pleasant pain invading the place, and arch into the touch.

your legs are aching, stomach tying itself into knots because of the gratification that's just out of reach. the only reason you haven't slumped to the floor yet is because of dan heng's firm hold on your hips, but even when you're on the edge, everything suddenly stops and the whimper that left you should have made you feel ashamed.

“i’ll let you come as many times as you want later,” dan heng replies, peppering kisses on the back of your neck.

sampo & gepard .ᐟ

"sampo," you mewl, using that sweet, desperate voice that never fails to make him lose control. he always talks big about wanting to tease you until you fall apart, but when you come to him willingly, sampo can never quite refuse you. "i can't... want you to fill me up."

he startles for only half a second before smirking once he realizes what you're trying to do. "don't be like that, beautiful. weren't you riding the captain's face just now? that's a bit rude of you."

your babbling gets interrupted by gepard's tongue circling the rim with it, one, two, three times, before pressing it in, and fuck if you didn't moan, high pitched and greedy for more.

"such sweet moans, don't you think, geppie?" sampo says, moving around until he’s able to lean against your frame to suckle on your breast, still holding your wrists tightly against his chest.

"don't call me that," he whispers, it was all but wondering, because as soon as he sets your knee back down on the matress, he is propelling against your hips like a desperate teenager, and your mind unhelpfully supplies oh he is so fucking desperate and horny.

“oh, i take no credit for how things turned out tonight,” sampo says coquettishly, but you can’t even snap at him for being so coy. "don't you want to know what she will sound like if i make her cry?"he pulls your hips flush against his—cockhead snatching against your rim.

sampo press a hand in your back, making you arch more and stick your ass into the air, which he admires with a knead and a hum. you grab gepard´s thighs, cheeks squished on his bulge, and feeling like your life depended upon this exact moment.

gepard gasps, "wait-oh... fuck." his voice faded into breaths of delight to small pathetic whimpers. his head lolled back, mouth slack and eyes closed.

"why don't you make it up to the captain by letting him fuck your mouth while i make a mess og you?" sampo says, and you collapse more on the bed,

and he does. sampo thrusts and thrusts hard.

he has been so gentle up until now, so you certainly aren't expecting when he rams into you so hard your head almost hit gepard’s stomach, if it weren’t for sampo holding your hips and propelling you back into his cock. he fucks slow and deep at first, clasps each of your wrists with each of his hands and tugs at it, making you arch your back and lift your upper body a little.

gepard beams at you, endearing and so precious, almost as if he's asking for your permission. you open wide, hearing him muttering a quiet fuck before he shoves himself inside. gepard moans at the feeling of the wet warmness of your mouth engulfing his cock.

"you- fuck... your mouth feels so good,” gepard whimpers, the sounds you’re doing going straight to his cock. it has his hips kicking into your throat, making you convulse around it. moans getting even louder at that, he fucks into your mouth with abandon, in synchronism with sampo's rough thrusts.

“princess likes to feel full, see?” sampo sayss, cooing at you. and it makes you feel small, especially with how they are so much bigger and broader than you. it only serves to sum up to your neediness.

jing yuan and blade .ᐟ

your eyes prickle with tears, and it doesn’t take long before you feel them running down your face; the first one goes reluctantly, but after that they start cascading on your cheeks uncontrollably. you feel so good – blade plunges into you just right, then sends you towards jing yuan’s cock, just so he could pull you back again and meet his movements half way.

jing yuan pushes you off of his cock by your hair in order for you to take a breath, and you take a moment to gape at the man. he looks downright sinful with sweat dripping down his body, and somewhere in your lost mind you’re thankful you used water-proof make up.

“fucked dumb already?” jing yuan chuckles and you feel your face heating up with pleasant shame. his patronizing tone makes you go even further into this familiar, yet unusual headspace of yours.

blade is relentless when he rams into you, making sure there’s not a single sensitive patch of flesh untouched by his cock. nothing is ever completely sweet with them. it’s all teeth and tongue, and bites and bruises.

but that’s exactly what makes you keep coming back to them—again and again.

“needy” blade groans when you tighten around him in response to his lewd remark. “hm, looks like she can’t even live without it.”

“tightest pussy you’ve ever fucked, isn’t it?” jing yuan drawls before peppering your face with the lightest of kisses—a stark contrast to the mess blade is deliberately sowing between your legs. “she’ll never say no to getting manhandled to oblivion, but you have to be gentler if you want to make her cum.”

his hot breath fans against your ear as his powerful thrusts slow into a crawl, fucking into you with a languid rhythm. as if to unintentionally prove jing yuan’s point, you frame blade’s name around a pitiful whimper, bucking your hips up to meet his.

“she wants both of us now, general,” blade drones with a teasing tone, hips never stuttering despite. “what do you think we should do about that?”

you feel like you should be ashamed of how quickly you nod your head in agreement. you even reach for jing yuan’s cock between your legs, guiding the thick head to your swollen pussy before sinking down with a breathless moan. your hands are braced on his broad shoulders—the only leverage you’re afforded while you lose yourself to unadulterated pleasure.

these two men will be the end of you. you just know it.

just like that, you’re speared on two cocks like a bitch in heat, surrendering your autonomy to move in favor of letting these two men use you to their heart’s content. where jing yuan murmurs sweet nothings into the curve of your wrist, blade bites into the crook of your neck. the lovebites they’ve swathed across your skin will take days, if not weeks to disappear, but you’re far too gone to pay them any mind.

jing yuan and blade time their thrusts in cadence with each other, making sure there’s not a moment that you’re left empty and wanting.

contrary to your expectations, they don’t fuck you like complete savages. it seems that jing yuan’s advice has rooted itself into blade’s mind, and they’ve silently agreed to go at it slow and steady—building up an orgasm that’ll have you craving them again for days.

#honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #dr ratio x reader #boothill x reader #sampo x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #honkai star rail

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lxnarphase · 3 months

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PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME ᯓ★

━━ ❝ SHE A BADDIE, SHE SHOWIN' HER PANTY! ❞ wc. 3.7k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x g. suguru, suggestive content, alcohol mention, exhibitionism, voyeurism (?), fingerfucking, public fingering, little bit of breeding kink and talks of knocking you up, lots of kissing, suguru really loves his girl, suguru can’t keep his hands to himself

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : suguru is just a slut for you i don't know what else to tell you. he's just as much as a mischievous little shit as gojo ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎ (also yes nonblack readers can read and reblog too, idk why some anons try to gatekeep)

suguru's so touchy with you, it's sweet.

he can't keep his hands off of you whenever you go out. the poor man feels like he might just die if he's not having some sort of physical contact with you the majority of the day.

it could be the grocery store on a late night snack run in matching pajama bottoms or like now, a long night at the club for some celebration.

neither one of you remembers what or who the part is for, the alcohol in your systems causing you to focus on one another. the rest of your group is busy on the dance floor or bar, leaving you and suguru to cuddle up to each other in the VIP area like the lovesick idiots the two of you are.

your sitting across his lap, one hand in his hair and the other holding his shoulder, rubbing random shapes and patterns into the fabric of his shirt. it's so unfair, he just smells so fucking good and looks so damn handsome. you genuinely can't look at anything but him.

and he loves it so damn much.

"s'guruuu," you coo at him, nose smooshed against his cheek. if you could, you'd get even closer to him, but this would have to suffice for now. "you're so handsome tonight..."

the corners of his mouth tilt up into a smug smirk as he chuckles, his hand sliding from your knee to your upper thigh, stroking the exposed skin. you're so soft, could you really blame him for wanting to touch you all the time? compared to you, suguru is way more sober and is just eating up all the attention you're giving him.

not just because he loves you, but that was a plus.

no, it's because people are watching.

his sharp purple eyes flicker up, meeting with the group of girls outside of the VIP area that keep looking his direction.

their eyes are filled with interest and want when they look at him, and he can't help but chuckle to himself.

suguru knows he's attractive. hell, he's reminded of it every morning by the way you shower him in kisses and praises as part of your morning routine, making sure he knows just how much you love him and his 'stupidly pretty face,' as you so elegantly put it.

but what makes him laugh is how they look at you with disdain and confusion, as if they can't understand why you're in his lap instead of them.

it's disgusting, really, for them to even have the slightest thought that they could replace you. they must be lying to themselves, he thinks as your lips start to press kisses against his cheek, the soft curls and coils of your hair tickling his cheek.

you're just so cute, so adorable, so gorgeous, so beautiful. you're his pretty little angel, and seeing women jealous of you just fills him with so much pride, knowing you have other women jealous of you.

if only they knew how badly you have him wrapped around your little finger. if you so much as asked, suguru wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone for you, wouldn't hesitate to kill for you...but thankfully, it never got to that point.

yet.

"hmm, you think i'm handsome?" he leans in, his breath warm against your neck as he nips your ear. "nah, you look so damn gorgeous, angel. you're stealing the spotlight from me t'night."

his fingers trace circles into your thigh, enjoying your little giggles and complaints of it tickling. it only makes him do it more, your laughs and giggles making his heart squeeze a little bit.

fuck, suguru really loves how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and smooth. it's all he thinks about. he wants to touch you forever, wants to feel you every second of the day. you are just so warm and soft, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your skin.

pulling away from your ear, he sees that those girls are still there, looking at you and him. the smirk on his face falters a bit, and his gaze hardens.

man, he really doesn't like how they're looking at you.

it's so easy for him to tell they have no cursed energy, just mere humans that could never even hope to be on the same level as you. it would be so fucking easy to just...snap his fingers and have them gone in an instant.

you steal his attention away from them and the dark thoughts swirling in his head by tilting his head your way, and instantly, his gaze softens.

jesus, the things you do to this man.

"sugu? what's wrong, honey," you mumble, worry etched into your features. you cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks to get him to calm down. "you don't look happy..."

the feel of your hands on his face, paired with the sweet concern in your voice, it washes away all irritation in him instantly. suguru hums, his eyes sliding shut. and the soft look in your eyes...he's so whipped for you, it's sickening.

you're so warm...

"no, baby, nothing's wrong," he reassures you, his smooth voice a low rumble. if he could, he'd be purring incredibly loudly right now, nuzzling into your palms. just your touch is enough to make him melt.

"'m just thinkin' how lucky I am, havin' you all to myself like this. the prettiest girl in the world, and she's sitting in my lap...who knew i'd make it this far in life, hm?"

the low, purple lights of the club cast a soft glow on your face as your fluffy hair frames your face, and suguru sighs, looking at you like you were his everything. you are his everything.

a quick glance to the side and suguru takes note that those girls are still fucking there, looking at you both. instead of getting irritated again, suguru gets an idea.

with a smirk, his hand slides up further your thigh, his fingertips slipping under the hem of that pretty purple dress he bought you that contrasts against the dark color of your skin...so pretty.

"mm, babygirl, just looking at you is making me dizzy," suguru purrs, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "you know i love you right? an' that all i wanna do is show you off s' everyone knows how pretty you are, right?"

you know better.

you know better than to trust him when he starts making comments like this, when he starts cooing and praising you out of nowhere.

because you know that it means suguru is up to no damn good.

you still haven't forgiven him for making you squirt on his fingers while he was on the phone with nanami...even though it was kind of cute how nanami couldn't look you in the eye without blushing for about two weeks.

"mhm...i know, sugu, you're a little show off that likes to get us in trouble," you playfully scold, tugging his hair a little as you giggle, looking at him with a soft gaze.

suguru's head tilts back, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft grunt leaving him. he's always been a sucker for you pulling on his hair like that, likes when you tug him around to make a point...shit, he's getting hard just from thinking of all the times you'd use his hair to get his attention or make him focus on something.

and it doesn't take long for you to discover his thoughts are going south.

with an exasperated gasp, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your ass, letting out a little scold of his name. his grip on you tightens when you shift to confirm your suspicions. his head leans to rest in the crook of your neck, a silent plea for more of your affection.

"but you like it when I show off," suguru teases back, pressing a kiss against your neck as your curls tickle his face again. even your hair was soft, it's like he's got his own little pillow pet in his lap. the thought makes him chuckle, knowing you'd probably swat at him playfully for comparing you to a plushy

"you get all worked up, it's so cute, angel...plus, i think y'like it when i cause trouble." his hand swaps thighs and creeps up higher under your dress, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. he's playing a risky game. at any moment, someone could catch him and get you both kicked and banned from the club.

but where's the fun in life without taking risks?

"c'mooon, admit it, baby, you like it."

one glance up back into the crowd and suguru hums, his eyes glinting dangerously. still there, it seems.

they aren't staring as hard now, but looks of disbelief cross their face when his hand shamelessly goes right to the apex of your thighs, fingers running over the lace of your panties. suguru doesn't care anymore, if they wanna look so bad, he'll give them something to stare at.

"s-suguru...you're, mnh, gettin' close there..."

he doesn't give you a response, his hand sliding from your back up to your hair to keep your head in the crook of his neck. he may be fine with showing out a little bit to these bitches who tired to glare daggers into you, but no one except him gets to see your face.

the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth dig into the plushness of your bottom lip...it's driving him crazy.

the faint scent of your perfume hits his nose, and he's gone. his cock is pressing against your ass in full hardness, and he has to stop himself from grinding up into you.

nah, right now, this is about you.

he's going to take care of you, going to make you feel good, going to make sure you know that you are his in every way that counts.

without wasting another moment, suguru's fingers slip under your panties, pausing when they touch the faint wetness gathering at your slit.

"fuck...baby, don't tell me you've been like this the whole night," he rasps, his breathing slowly starting to pick up. your soft cunt is hot to the touch, sticky and wet as he drags his fingers through your slick.

"i can't help it, you just...look, really good t'night, baby," you huff into his ear, gasping a moan when he doesn't hesitate to slip a finger into your slick hole.

he really does look good tonight, dressed in those black dress pants, sleek dress shoes, and that stupidly hot black button-up shirt. and he has the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone so that you can get a nice view of that necklace with your name on it resting on his collarbone.

how can you not get soaking wet?

"shit." he's groaning, the sensation of you nuzzling your face into his neck to press little open-mouthed kisses into all the sensitive spots of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. it's so sweet and precious how you try your hardest not to make too much noise and not move too much as he stirs up your cunt with just one of his fingers.

he wishes you both were back at home, wishes that he had you spread open on the bed so that he can see how wet he's got you just from his attire, so that he can hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. not even the strongest in the world would be able to pull him from your pussy whenever you get this wet.

the thought of gojo trying to pull him away from you makes him cringe a bit...because he knows damn well that idiot would be shoving his face deeper into your cunt, grinning as he practically makes suguru drown in you.

on second thought, that's not a bad way to go....

another tug to his hair as him unintentionally groaning, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pang of pleasured pain that shoots up his spine. his attention is back on you, his face close to yours as he breathes against your ear.

if you want his attention, then he'll give you all of it with no hesitation.

"suguruu, more...please," you finally whine, the slow movement not enough for you. it's almost torture; the slow in and out motions of his finger making you feel good but not good enough. no, you need more, craved it.

"yeah? you gonna be a good girl f' your suguru and let him take care of this needy lil' pussy? hm?" one finger turns into two, and that familiar heat pools in your lower abdomen. now it's feeling so fucking good that you already know his fingers are gonna be coated in your juices.

this should be embarrassing, it really should. you both are in a club for fucksake! but you can't find it in you to care about it, his thick digits working your cunt so good that your brain is just melting.

one of your hands grips his button-up, fisting in the fabric to ground yourself from the pleasure. "m-mhm! I'll be good, I'll be s' good for you, sugu, promise!" suguru is becoming relentless, determined to make you crack and stop hiding those pretty sounds from him when he takes note of how you go right back to biting your lip after giving him that sweet, needy response.

however, he loves seeing your lips all swollen, knowing they were like that because he made you feel so good you had to force yourself to be quiet.

"sweetheart, don' hide it, lemme hear you, 's just you and me," he whispers to you, his other hand burying itself in your curls and giving a little tug. he knows it's not just the both of you, but right now, in this moment, it's all that exists for him.

the harsh pull of your hair has your lips brushing against his ear and choking on a moan, unable to keep it in. "thaaaat's it, let me hear how good it feels t' have these fingers buried deep inside this tight cunt."

you hate this, hate when he talks because it only makes you wetter. and that means he's gonna talk even more, and you're always right because he's cooing at how much slick is pouring out of you now, asking if it's because of his voice or his fingers.

suguru's so fucking annoying, such an asshole, but you can't help but let him get away with it when it means he makes your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

you let him get away with way too much, don't you?

the song playing now is so loud, the bass making the ground vibrate. but suguru doesn't care, he's just thankful it's loud enough to cover that fucking beautiful moan you give him when he curls his fingers juuuust right.

"oooh, there? did i find it? fuck, baby, y'got so tight jus' from that."

your desperate nod of confirmation is all he needs before he speeds up his fingers, groaning when he can finally hear the wet schlicks of his hand coaxing more slick out of you.

one more glance up and suguru can't help but grin. the girls are gone, now mixed up in the crowd likely red and hot in the face.

seems like his impromptu little show finally got the message across: he is yours and yours only.

knowing he no longer had to show off, he's focusing on you, on you and that tight, needy little slit between your legs that's dripping down his wrist. it should be a crime for someone to be this wet, in public no less.

"c'mon, angel, don' hold back on me anymore, lemme know how it feels. wanna know 'm treating this gorgeous pussy good."

you let out the prettiest moan, breath hot against his ear. suguru coos, his hand not between your legs holding your neck to keep your head in the crook of his neck. “mhg, suguru, love it s' much, g-god, your fingers feel s'good, 's not fair.”

you can't stop yourself from trying to spread your legs more, giving him a bit better access. you know you can't open them too much ot someone might see.

but...would that be so bad? for people to see how suguru could make you fall apart so seamlessly?

if only you knew that's exactly what was running through his head right now. he's positive at least one person has caught on to what's happening, the repeating motions of his hand between your legs such a dead giveaway.

it thrills him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. shit, he's learning things about himself he didn't know before...he might have to do this to you more often.

he leans in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "y'gonna cum for me right here in this club, aren't you, babygirl? gonna show me how much you love my fingers playing with this slutty lil' pussy, right?"

he gets a sweet little 'yes, sugu' and he purrs your name, the mixture of your moans, the music, and the just barely audible sounds of your slickness being stirred by his thick fingers, making him feel drunk.

you're shaking in his lap, holding on for dear life as he makes it a point to curl his fingers with each thrust, not giving you a break anymore. you're spiraling, feeling the tremors of your impending orgasm building, your hot, gummy walls fluttering around his stupidly thick digits. you're praying silently between each pant and gasp, desperately hoping he doesn't make you squirt, not now, not when so many people are around—!

"c'mon, baby, c'mon," suguru encourages, his fingers picking up their pace. you're so close, he knows it, he knows because he can feel it coming. the way you fist his shirt, the way your hips are trying to hard to not rise up to meet his hand, knowing it would make it so obvious what's happening.

but suguru, oh, he stopped caring so fucking long ago. he just wants to feel you soak his fingers, wants to hear your muted little moan of his name when you finally cum. he just wants to make sure you know you're his.

"b-baby, suguru, shit, i'm gonna cum—!"

"yeah? that's it, baby, let got f'me, you can do it," he urges and coos, his voice bordering on needy and desperate, just like you. he's panting into your ear, whispering little praises as he listens to you pitifully try to keep your gasps and moans down. you're such a mess, it's so cute, you're so adorable, god, he loves you so bad.

your thick thighs are quivering and trembling as you teeter on the brink of release. you know it's going to be a mess, but you try, you try so hard to keep it in.

suguru notices—how could he not—and he's not having it, slipping a third finger inside your messy little cunt, curling deep inside right against that sweet spot, and that knot wound so tight inside you finally snaps.

"s-suguuuu, 'm cummin'—!"

he's reveling in how your hot, gummy walls squeeze and spasm all over his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as you cry and sob his name into his ear, tears caught on your eyelashes from how good it feels. he wishes he could look at you, wanting to drink up your expressions, but no, he'd be risking someone else seeing how pretty you are when you cum.

"yessss, good girl, good fuckin' girl, gimme everything, babygirl."

your cries of release are so damn sweet to his ears, and he continues to work you through it, ensuring your orgasm is as prolonged and intense as possible. if you were home, he wouldn't care about stopping or overstimulating, but he has to remind himself to stay calm and not go too hard.

if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from fucking you on this couch in the middle of the VIP section in front of all these people.

once suguru feels you go slack in his arms and your hand weakly slap against his chest, he slows his hand, his own breaths heavy with the arousal and need you stirred in him...did you have any idea how sexy you were? if he wasn't as controlled as he was, he's positive he would've cum in his pants.

pulling his fingers out slowly, suguru's quick to pop them into his mouth, sucking off your juices like it would be the last time he'd ever get a last. fuck, you soaked his hand...he doesn't care how obvious he makes it when he licks at his palm and wrist to not miss a drop.

"hhmph, s-suguru, you—"

"i need you, right now. can i take you home?"

of course, he has to ask. he knows how long it took you to get ready, to look so fucking perfect. but right now, he doesn't want anyone to look at you. hell, he doesn't want anyone else but him to be near you, he'd fucking wipe out this entire club right now if you asked.

the soft touch of your hands on his face brings him back, making him melt as his eyes slide shut. you're so soft, he loves you so much, he needs to stick his cock into you while groaning those words into your ear, needs to feel his tip kiss that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed, to fold you in half as he stuffs you so full, praying that his cum gets stuck deep inside you, praying that it takes and that he gets you knocked up, and that—

"take me home, sugu, please, i-i need you s' bad."

your words have him acting in an instant he presses a quick kiss to your lips, licking whatever is left of your lipgloss before helping you stand up with him, guiding you out of the club. if he stays in here for any longer, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.

"i got you, baby, don't worry, 'm gonna give you what you need. let's go, princess."

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff @charming-chikara @actuallynarii @ninikrumbs @inette04 @paint-eater2 @haesify @shaguro

#geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #geto suguru x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jjk x black y/n #black reader #geto x black reader #geto x black y/n #🔮 ── suguru.#𖤐 ── lxnarworks.

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nouearth · 4 months

Text

teach me hard and soft.

pairing. zane phillips x male reader.

part two.

word count. 9.3k.

summary. the constant studying was getting to zane. reader helped his grades up, sure, but was it worth missing out on the parties where he could be dicking down random men and getting black-out drunk? reader's sudden proposition makes him think twice before quitting.

content warning. college!au, jock!zane, top!zane, nerd!reader, virgin!reader, bottom!reader, reader wears glasses, slight dom and sub dynamics, blowjob, dry-humping, rimming, praising, muscle and body worshipping, size difference, breeding, dirty talk, verbal, soft to rough!sex, a build to exposing reader to sexual intimacy!

Tutoring sessions were supposed to bring boredom. Mind-numbing monotony that wore heavy on Zane’s eyelids; weariness that steamrolled his mouth open with a yawn; frustration that made the inside of his head blare as his brain blended your explanations into a pasty mixture of nonsense. One word went in one ear and out the other, and another break would be enforced for the sake of his sanity on the surface. In actuality, Zane knew it was for your own mental soundness.

Yet upon the third meeting of the new week, redoing his calculus homework left him alert and excited—the complete opposite of boredom. It had little to do with the assignment at hand and everything to do with the man who was flipping through Zane’s textbook through brightened and adoring eyes like he was lost in the fantastical world of superheroes fighting for justice from panel to panel. It was you. You and him were polar opposites. Numbers were Zane’s kryptonite, while frankly, they were your super power, and evidently so as you’d complete multiple practice worksheets from Zane’s textbook to pass time. Until Zane was done with his own work.

It had become increasingly difficult to ignore you, especially with the incentive you had offered Zane last week if he completed the extra worksheets you assigned for practice—last week’s quiz was abysmal. Zane couldn’t get it off his mind—the idea of him tutoring you about all of life’s own intimacies. Instantly, an apparition of you; beneath him, over him, kissing, touching, feeling, squeezing, pleading; he snapped back to reality when he felt a warmth over his hand, and another source of heat swarming below his pelvis.

“Done? Looks like you corrected everything.” You peered over the opposite side of the short table, cross-legged on the floor like Zane beneath it.

“Oh—Uh, yeah. I had a little trouble with 4C, but…” Nonetheless, Zane slid the worksheet and a lined paper containing his proof of work towards you.

“Already looks like you’re getting the hand of it.”

It took a lot of willpower to stop himself from smiling when you perked up at the sight of his corrections.

Sunlight squinted through half-turned blinds in your bedroom, the sun bloated and content over the sheets of paper as you scanned them, comparing his answers and work to your own, and surprisingly marked them correct afterwards. Zane had a sigh of relief whenever you did, through briefly, because it would cycle again as you analyzed the next problem. Sometimes a little too long, though. Your brows would scrunch in confusion on how Zane came to that conclusion on a problem, but with a fix of your glasses, you tightened your gaze to analyze his work closer, and you marked it correct. That would repeat until you returned the worksheet with a score and a comment on top.

83%, Nice work!

It was like you were born to teach. You went over what Zane did correctly, what led to incorrect answers, what was missing in the formula, and what process that could save him the headache of memorizing. Every word came out of you like a story—a purpose to make sense of the world, of the problems you had given him. Your lips were distracting, minted breath tingling the inside of his nose—and god, how he wished he could taste it right now. And so, Zane endured a little longer, opened his ears, and made sure he was attentive, because he certainly wasn’t going to get that reward if he was slacking off.

“Nice job today! I’ll let you relax since you’ve been working hard. I know you have a match coming up, so…” You flipped through your binder of worksheets, unclasping it with a routine tug, and handed it to Zane. “Just finish problems one to four, is that okay?”

“Yeah. Perfect. Thanks.” Again, it took a lot of willpower for Zane to keep himself from smiling, especially since it seemed like you remembered his upcoming wrestling match. Like clockwork, he failed, blessing you with those pearly whites of his. As according to plan, you couldn’t spare a single second holding his gaze before feeling some type of way. Zane had picked up on your fidgeting—fingers, toes, and all—it was adorable.

Though, what wasn’t adorable was that you seemed to have treated this session like every other session, as if you hadn’t proposed that damn incentive that Zane had been working towards.

Did (M/N) forget? He couldn’t have, right? He was practically whining his way through when I began teasing him and—

And Zane would’ve been on his way out if he wasn’t so determined and unabashedly brazen.

“I thought I was going to teach you how to kiss.” Zane directly stated. Not as a question, but as a fact. You promised me this.

You caught your breath before you could choke on the water you were sipping. Instead, your shock was fleeting in the brights of your eyes.

“Oh—I… thought you forgot—“ You stammered through your surprise, and it only made Zane want you even more. Maybe there was regret that you had even proposed the idea, but it seemed like it wasn’t getting in the way of your conscience with how you stumbled to sit on your bed.

Zane followed, a pleased grin growing across his face, almost predator-like, because you were just as eager as he was, and it was exciting to know that he caused you to fidget for another round. “You couldn’t possibly think that I did your worksheets for…” Then, he looked over his shoulder, at the empty bowl on the table. “—a bowl of strawberries, right?”

“Well… strawberries reduce inflammation in the body, and I know you probably get tossed around a lot on the mat—”

God, his rambles are cute.

“I don’t get tossed around. I do the tossing.” Was that a threat? Zane didn’t mean for it to sound like one. He was merely playing a game of intimidation, to see if you were a man of his word. Even with the fleeting fear that heavenly passed from one eye to the other, whether it was from his taunt or from the evident size difference between you and him as he sat himself next to you, you seemed assured in your decision.

“Sorry, I’ve never been to your matches—“ Instead of acknowledging his presence, you stared at your folded hands, clammy in your lap.

“That’s fine. It gets boring pretty quick. I end up winning them.” Zane edged himself closer to you, in hopes to lift you from the enchantment of your palms.

“Really? Whoa, that’s cool—I would love to see it for myself. I’m sure I won’t get tired of it.” Knees touching now, and you still won’t look at him. Somehow, concentred even more now, on your fingernails this time. Biting them, pushing your cuticles back. Zane would’ve been annoyed with anybody else, by this inconsiderate lack of attention, but not you.

Never you.

A drop of silence fell over the both of you. One body hesitated, while the other was quietly pursued. Cicadas buzzed outside your window, passersby laughed in turn from a joke, and multiple vehicles roared, presumably racing each other down the street of your apartment. Zane watched you through all of it; the gentle inflate of your cheeks because you felt hot in the mouth, the bite of your lips because you were about to speak but ultimately rescinded; the curl of your toes into your socks because Zane suddenly put a hand over your lap to tear your gaze back towards him.

When you did—with those quivering eyes—Zane whispered, “Can I?” A permission that lit a twinkle in your pupils, stars mirroring the bright blues of Zane’s eyes. He leaned in because he was immediately pulled in like some kind of spell, a tilt to his head that you naturally countered, and pressed his lips to yours. “Follow my lead.”

Your lips were soft, incredibly supple flesh unfortunately stiffened by fear, an inexperience that Zane would cherish from this moment onward as he adapted and stilled until you’d adjusted.

“We’ll go slow, okay? Soft. Gentle. All of that. As long as you work with me.” Zane pulled a centimeter or two away from your lips, mumbling while making sure his breath compelled your lips to move. “Your turn. Kiss me. A small peck, can be a smooch too, your choice.”

“Y-Yeah, okay…” You nodded. You turned your body towards him for proper positioning, cross-legged, and Zane followed in turn. Then, you leaned in. A peck to Zane’s lips, your glasses bumped against his nose in the process. A chaste, pure moment of affection that Zane wished could have amounted to more, but he didn’t want to rush you.

Another one, a smooch like Zane had suggested, and a rather puzzled one at that because Zane was smiling from ear to ear, and you were confused, almost embarrassed as to why. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no… you’re just…” He couldn’t keep himself from laughing. First, at the absurdity of this mutual settlement. Second, at the luck he was given because it had to be you, someone he’d briefly discounted as merely ‘an awkward nerd’ upon first meeting. Lastly, because you were more than ‘an awkward nerd’ to him now. A cute guy, a smart person, an incredibly pure and sweet boy that he would more than love to—

Zane was getting ahead of himself. Just kissing. For now.

You weren’t going to learn efficiently this way. This step-by-step process only worked on paper, on problems, on math problems, and Zane was done adapting your style of teaching. Zane was a demonstrator, it was how he taught wrestling to the younger kids at his part-time job. And man, were you in need of a good demonstration.

“—so cute…” With one hand to your cheek, he guided you closer, and pressed his lips to yours again. A bit harder this time, but enough to pull a gasp, a breath, a sound out of you. You parted your lips, and Zane seized the opportunity to claim the soft flesh as his own. He could feel a gentle buzz festering among the joined lips, a spark that compelled you to take its voltage in and pass it off to Zane with a gentle nip. Then, a suck when the bolt of electricity returned back to you tenfold, and your hand—you didn’t know what to do with them, curling them into your shorts for the meantime, but Zane had the experience to know. He held one, squeezed to let you know that you were in good hands, then guided it towards the underside of his jaw, letting you hold him.

“Hold me if you feel lost.”

“Okay…”

It continued on like this for a while. The passing of electricity, of sparks. Eyes closed, lips held and parted away from one another for a breather, then reunited with a thin string of spit bridging warmth between the two mouths, mutual devotion climbing from one end of spit to the other.

“Just like that…” Zane whispered, encouraged, praised. He was referring to the ease of your tension, seemingly melting away baby the second, but also the sounds coming out of your mouth. What was once desperately vaulted in the back of your throat in fear of sounding too eager, moans had now fallen dramatically off your tongue like they were meant to be, and Zane sucked it right off in fear you’d restrain yourself again.

“Was that okay?” You paused, muttering into his lips. It tickled when Zane chuckled, the soft, thick hair of his mustache aiding the quiver of your lips.

You pulled back to give him space, to take in the air around you, but Zane had a sudden hold on you, on the back of your neck, gentle but firm, and gazed proudly into your eyes, past the crook of your glasses. He haunted you to the core with that smile of his, stilled your breath for a long moment when he squeezed at your nape, something knowing and mischievous, like you had been branded with a hot iron, his name engraved into the now bruising hold on your flesh, and you knew you couldn’t go back on your word now even if you tired.

As if you wanted to.

“A natural…” It was distracted, Zane didn’t mean for it to sound half-hearted, but that only meant that he was telling the truth if he dove immediately back to kissing you again, without bothering to fix the slant of your glasses.

You got it. It was as simple as that. The swapping of lips, of saliva, of licks, Zane made it all so easy, and all you had to do was follow his lead. He kissed you until you begged for a break. You kissed him until the rush of blood in your southern region had calmed.

And it never did, even when he kissed you goodbye. He could spot your erection from a mile away.

It was like this for Zane’s meetings from then on. Tutoring went on as usual. He brought in his worksheets, you lectured him through the problems he’d missed, and you’d check off the problems he’d fixed. After, Zane would have you practice on him, learning how to lead for once.

As Zane returned with better scores, so did you with kissing. You’ve learned that touching was just as important as kissing. Zane liked his neck and chest rubbed, while you liked your nape held, controlled. Eventually, the two tutoring sessions a week doubled and became four, then it became six, until Zane found himself visiting you every day, with fluctuating hours depending on his schedule and yours. Though, you two made sure to free up your time to accommodate. Your lessons remained consistent, but Zane’s, however, had gotten longer. It was his excuse to make up for your inexperience.

In reality, he really wanted to be your every ‘first’ as selfish as it was.

You never knew there were so many types of kissing. Zane’s lips on your neck were your favorite. The softness of his mouth. The warmth of his tongue. The nuzzle of his mustache. As much as it was a struggle to hide your erection, he knew. You felt comforted by his words that it was only natural and couldn’t be helped.

And excruciatingly helpless when he confessed, “I’m hard too.”

Zane found you had a surprising knack for french-kissing, and that ultimately became a normalcy between you and him. Once you felt the slip of his tongue exploring your warm mouth, you were a goner. Kissing with just lips didn’t feel right anymore. You needed tongue. You needed his spit covering your tongue. You needed to suck at his own wet flesh. You told him that, through breathless pants, that you needed to explore more of him.

And Zane resonated with an astounding, “Me too,” and left you blue-balled, like always, on the bed.

And like always, you found yourself rubbing to the thought of Zane, wondering if he was doing the same, if he could find a way to during practice.

You would think about the new lessons for the week: kissing positions. It started off simple—making out on the couch, tenderly sharing tongue while you sat on the kitchen countertop. You naturally felt an inclination to touch him, it was the right thing to do, and the longer your hands were on Zane—squeezing his shoulders, caressing those built muscles that had been sculpted through sheer hard work and dedication—all the more ramped up these feelings for him had gotten.

He preferred you sitting on his lap, the perk in your posture meant that you had too—the warmth of his cupped palms around your ass being a constant reminder.

You kept it to yourself, but you were at his disposal.

It sounded naive. Wrong. And to be frank, cliché, but it was fluttering to feel so wanted. A nest of honeybees festering in the pit of your stomach, all because Zane’s attention was on you. Praising you for doing so well, when in actuality, you simply allowed him to ravish your neck that day until he was certain that hickies would blossom across the cavas of your neck overnight. Admiring your tainted skin the next day by topping his bruises with another round of painful, but welcomed sucks, because marks had never looked so beautiful on someone. Thrilling because you were a work in progress, and would be labeled as so until Zane had the final say. Whenever that day would come, you dreaded knowing it could end soon.

Zane kept it to himself, but he liked knowing that he’d branded you as his so easily.

It was common for both of you to end your visitations blue-balled—panting into one another’s mouth. Bodies collapsed onto another on the bed at the sound of Zane’s alarm, and every day, you found it increasingly harder to give into surrendering his body for practice. For his friends. For classes. For parties. He was a popular man, and this was the first time you’d cursed him for it, as much as you had been envious of it from the start.

When Zane unwillingly tore himself away from you, he felt his heart jolt with a spark, that same spark that had been passing from lip to lip, and festering in his veins to yours.

You looked at him with such distraught, a silent plea for him to stay. Disappointment laced in those pure pupils, and emphasized when Zane catalogued the mess he’d made on your body. Wet reminders of his presence on your neck cascaded over your collarbone, and down to the middle of your chest. The first few buttons of your shirt had been unbuttoned—the most visible skin you had bared so far, yet Zane had never felt his balls tightened up for such little promiscuity. It was like you were teasing him, pushing him towards the edge to see until when—just when he would crack and take you as he pleased.

That night would be an aide-memoire that you had captivated Zane, just as much as he had a control on you.

“Relax for me,” he whispered into your lips, ignoring a call from his friend with a toss of his phone before using the same hand to push you onto your back.

“Wait, but the party—“ Cold yet warm, that was how it always felt when you were with him. The draft hit your skin when Zane lifted your shirt to smother your stomach in tiny, fleeting kisses. Your goosebumps conflicted whether they should owe their arrival to the drop in temperature, or to Zane’s worship on your body.

“I know. They can wait. You’ll be quick.” Everything was moving at rapid pace. A beast in Zane suddenly unleashed from as he began removing your pants. An impatience you found yourself unsettled by, yet just as equally as desired with the way you followed every one of his command: to spread your legs wider, to keep your shirt on, to lean back on the pillows, braced on your elbows, to look at him, to watch him.

“Quick with what—“ Your mind was cluttered with so many demands, dazed by the sudden chaos of it all.

He barely gave you a chance to react before pressing his mouth to your hard cock. You instantly puzzled what all of this had amounted to the more he enveloped your length with a sudden gut-punching heat you had never experienced with your entire being. “Zane—“

“Just hold still.” He guided your shudders to his blonde locks, forcing a gratifying grip to his hair before power-washing your cock with his tongue.

Zane thought he heard your moans. Thought he knew them from flesh and bone from the times he’d devour neck and lips like an insatiable scent. But no—these were the sounds he was in desperate search for. Staggered, guttural, straight from the stomach and raw out your throat, as you begged for mercy from the suction of his mouth.

“S-stop, I’m going to c-come in your mouth—“ You desperately pleaded, rock-hard in his mouth and throbbing at the pulse of his tongue. The tip of his muscle flicked endlessly at your slit, beating it with the spit that had been over-compensating for his dry mouth.

“That’s the point.”

You tugged on his hair harder, not away, but towards you. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t muster the strength to watch him, and restrain yourself. That was absolutely impossible with the way Zane’s blue eyes locked with you, determination in his gaze that signaled that this had no longer been a demonstration. Sloppily sucking you off. Beating your wet dick off until it was swollen. “W-wait, Zane, stop—I’m really going to—“

Repeating, cycling, spitting, moaning, praising, urging, kissing, repeating until the thick release of your cum satisfied the grit of his throat. Drinking every ounce of purity out of you because it was a sacred resource. Until you felt completely drained with Zane’s throat at your disposal, the salty taste of your loads nearly costing him his sanity had you not pulled him up to ground him with a kiss.

Or maybe his sanity had already been broken, because he pushed the thick of your seed back into your own mouth when you two connected, and it drew out the most beautiful symphony of sounds from you: the shock of it all, the salty and bitter taste embarrassingly spreading thick over your tongue, and then the exaltation, when Zane sucked it right off of you as a way of saying, ‘I’m yours too.’

No, this had been done out of pure love—one that had been kept in reserve for you, and only you.

It was an open secret to how prone you were to bruising. Zane remembered the shock of returning the next day to an onslaught of hickies on your neck. Marks that you comically hid behind a scarf despite the summer season. Bruises that earned him a knowing side-eye when one of your roommates answered the door to let him in.

“Does it look bad?” You instinctively bared teeth, sucking in a gasp when Zane curiously poked at one bruise to the next.

“Sorry. I got carried away.” He remembered that night vividly—beating off his dick to it after practice. He’d left hickies on many people before. For you, he didn’t know why he felt so fascinated by the wear of your skin—the break of skin solely caused by him.

“Not your fault. Kind of the reason why I never played sports.” Popping open the cap of the soothing cream in your hand, you then began to apply the thick mixture onto your wounds. Well, one of them, before Zane took it out of your hand.

“I’ll do it… Let’s take a break today, yeah? We can cuddle, watch a movie? Anything you want.” Ann apology seeped into the kisses he brought around your neck before applying the cream onto your bruises, finishing what you’ve started.

Not too long after, he’d take you into his arms, your head comforted by his chest, while you went on with your free-time: scrolling through social media, laughing at videos that appeared on your feed with him, chatting, kissing, chatting again.

“Do you date a lot?” You asked one day, knowing the answer without Zane having to speak. Though, you really just wanted to hear it from his mouth, to clarify, instead of assuming everything.

“In high school and first year in college, yeah. But it’s been mostly hookups so far.” Zane found that your hands looked perfect in his: smaller yet equally veiny as he compared, then examined your intricately cut nails. Perfectly trimmed with little whites baring.

“Hm…” You nodded, letting him play with your fingers, stroke your hair, kiss at your neck, until your silence was deafening.

It was like Zane read your mind, because he’d spare you that smile of his—one you had been intimidated earlier on in your life before all of this—and your heart felt like it surged over hurdles during your pursuit to him. He laughed in your neck at the glimpse of your pout, and he would tease you with several pokes to your body, introducing various notes of levity until you broke out into a laugh yourself.

“Before you say it, no—you’re not a plaything.” Zane assured with a kiss to your lips. Whether he was telling the truth or not, you’d rather delay the revelation for a little longer.

You never realized that you and Zane barely did this. Getting to know one another was an interest that had been vaulted from the back of your mind as things were ramping up. There were times where you needed it. A break from everything, even if it meant that you’d fall deeper for him. For Zane, it was always on days where he had too many events to juggle on his plate. Venting to you came first, then you’d pacify his frustration at his friends, at his professor, at his teammates, with a semi-homemade meal, and a movie in bed.

You two would compensate for the lack of knowledge about each other by coincidentally pulling all-nighters. Somewhere among one of those nights, you two found the perfect balance of understanding each other from in and out.

“I came to watch you practice the other day…” His hand was roaming under your shirt, lingering over your stomach, and then up your chest to toy with your nipples. You groaned into his mouth at a tug of one of your nubs, mirroring his actions onto his own body. Though, you were always distracted by how big his chest felt under your palm, preferring to explore the muscular plane.

“What—“ Zane pulled away, breathless and baffled at the admission, because who would want to watch him practice? His previous partners never did that for him. “Why didn’t you say hi?” You looked so delectable under him. Swollen lips, tongue peeking to taste at the lingering residue of spit.

“Wouldn’t I throw you off your game?” You ran your hand over his forearm. Memories of Zane’s sweaty muscles bulging as he pinned a guy down coming to mind, thick veins charging the muscle fibers with a pulse. If those veins had telepathic capabilities, you’d assume the erection in your pants was from their own command.

“Don’t think so. I would’ve introduced you to the team too. They would like you.” Another kiss to your lips before he rolled onto his back, switching positions with you to pull you onto his lap.

“Really? I didn’t think I would have anything in common with them!” You’ve gotten more brazen in your touch. Affectionate. You gave Zane’s shirt three tugs, a magical number to him, and he tossed it off his body and to the corner somewhere, removing the obstacle between your lips and his temple of a body.

“Maybe. Maybe not? I don’t know, some of them are struggling in their classes right now. I mentioned to them that you brought my GPA up, so—fuck…” The steady progression from being anxious to greedy was fascinating in Zane’s eyes. He watched you tongue his pink nipple, assaulting one after the other until either had stiffened, and then his armpit—he never thought you would warm up to practically burying yourself into his hairy musk, licking again, inhaling him with awakening ferocity that Zane wanted to tame. After all, that’s what he’d been doing to you, right? Taming the baby pup.

“I have some free time… Just mention my rates…”

“Yeah—god, you drive me crazy.”

You and Zane explored each other effortlessly—no labels, no commitments, simply out your own free will, and maybe that was the reason why Zane cracked.

There was a droning sound in your room, somewhere in the vent, but you’d never noticed the monotonous buzz before until now.

Zane was angry. You could decipher it from his fist, the cushion of mechanical pencil comforting the clasping grasp. You’ve never seen him angry other than being slightly annoyed or inconvenienced, but the tension in your room weighed heavy enough to pull his gaze anywhere else but towards you. No welcoming kiss, no bantering, no playing footsies under the table—only work.

“Zane, what’s wrong—“ Your voice was gentle. Maybe if he would look up, he would soften at the distraught etched onto your face, fine lines wearing you down with worry, with deep dejection because it wasn’t about second-guessing whether you did something wrong.

When he reeled his hand back from your touch, you were absolutely positive that it was your fault.

“Are you done grading yet?” His voice was tempered, methodically calm while his gaze never left the screen of his laptop. Scrolling through an endless pit of web pages.

“Yeah…” You pushed the paper towards him, and he glanced at it.

64%. The lowest marks he’d received since you started tutoring him. He was doing so well. Constant 80s. His peak being nearly a perfect mark, and it was all crumbling because of a man.

He sucked in his teeth, a familiar feeling of contention seething in his stomach.

Two men.

It only happened in his matches, and when it did, it signified his victory.

“Hey, what’s—“ Another attempt quickly stolen with a sudden biting kiss. Rough hands roamed around you, a touch that you had already felt nostalgic for upon Zane’s absence the past few days, and then a bite to your neck, a painful mark, an answer as to why you had felt so deprived of energy in addition. “Z-Zane!”

“Nico and Austin,” Zane muttered bitterly into your clavicle. Your shirt was then unbuttoned at flying speed, and his eyes were searching, pupils dilating upon the scan of your skin. Marks of want, of pleasure, faded into your chest and neck like foam to coffee. “—these are theirs, right?!”

“W-what? No! Are you crazy, what?!” You gulped hard, your neck straining as Zane began to match several bruises to his mouth, renewing the plump skin out of spite, out of greed. Traces of his spit matched the outline of your mark to perfection, yet he continued, relishing himself into the warmth of your skin, to the sounds of your panicked moans as you rubbed at his back to pacify his sudden burst of anger. If they hadn’t made a mark on you, then they will soon. You were his territory, his worshipping ground, and he needed evidence that he’d claim you first. “What’s going on…”

“They…” Embarrassment crept his way up to his neck, then his cheeks as Zane settled upon assessing at what he’d done to you. Windswept, that was what he’d described you as you lay breathless beneath him. He’d missed this, yet it was frightening to know that the withdrawal symptoms from not seeing you every day resulted with an uncontrollable need to ruin you. The calm of your breathing consoled him in meantime, and also lowered his blood pressure a few beats. He refused to release his grip around your wrists, but loosened for your comfort, and breathed, “—keep talking about you. It’s been a few weeks since you started tutoring them, right?”

“Yeah—they usually come together… What do you mean they keep talking about me?” On first impression, you’d assume it was about the way you presented yourself. Guarded and reserved to most, but you always made sure you had good intentions, right? That couldn’t be the right assessment, though. That wouldn’t have made Zane riled up, practically eating at your neck from a comment about how you were standoffish.

“Don’t make me say it,” he squeezed past tight lips, forewarning with tense eyes because you were smart. You were supposed to know what he meant by now.

Clueless.

“It can’t be that bad—“

“They’re animals, (M/N). The way they talk about you like you’re a piece of meat.” He muttered bitterly warm at the underside of your jaw. Yet, a part of you felt like he was kissing to the thought of their ridiculing, whatever they were, and you let him do as he pleased, with restrained silence to hear him, to let him know that you were listening, to let him know that it was getting dangerously hard to focus on his words because—you had no idea when, but his hand had slipped inside of your shorts now, massaging you through your boxers.

He continued after carrying you to the bed, his shorts kicked off to the side, your own after, and pressed himself to you, practically into you as you felt him throb against your erection without missing a beat. “—keep talking about how pretty you’d look sucking them off. How they would like to see you struggle taking their cocks inside of your mouth, both at once. As a reward or something, for doing those damn worksheets.”

“I—“ Your mind felt foggy. All of this information was overwhelming you, plus the friction of your cock against Zane’s much larger erection held your mind hostage, harassing it with violent yet pleasurable rubs as you felt the tip of your cock constantly brush against the scratchy fabric. This was new, and you needed to focus and fixate on Zane’s worries. “Zane…”

“They’d blow their loads inside of your mouth. Over your face. Inside of your ass—“ Zane grunted hard, stroking a hand over your head while rocking into you with his broad body, with a rhythm led by greed and lust. The weight of his motion reflected onto the creaking of the bed springs, and his eyes searched looming repugnance. “—wouldn’t shut up about that ass of yours. How it filled out those shorts of yours so nicely. How they wanted to breed you with their cum, one after another, then another round, and another, until your body had given itself up.”

None. You were fucking hard, throbbing and solid as he rocked into you, polished his cock with yours, and your eyes—he could see how much you’d want that fantasy to come true.

“Zane, I wouldn’t—“ You whimpered when he pulled your boxers off, freeing your embarrassing boner for him to delight his eyes on. You stripped yourself completely for the second time, top to bottom. It triggered the memory of baring it all for the first time, where you received your first blowjob. You watched in silence, in between hot pants, as Zane stripped his muscular body of his clothing, one by one. Like a performance, a stage that was approaching its curtain call, because you knew Zane only had patience for one more lesson to teach you. Fuck me, please…

“And you know what’s worse? I thought they were just playing around, that typical locker room talk. Told them you were a virgin, never even kissed a boy in your life, and that it would all be too much for you…” You shuddered, feeling the warmth of his eyes analyzing you like a scanner, taking copies of your body and inking it into his mind. The sink of your stomach as Zane caressed your body downwards, the gentle hairs below your belly button, all delectably leading to the unkempt hairs of your pubic area, surrounding the twitch of your cock.

He could take you right now, but Zane liked playing with his food. Loved seeing the sweat form on your forehead and on your neck; loved watching your chest rise and sink when he wrapped a hot hand around your cock; loved hearing you whimper when his large cock joined his fist, stroking you and him together as one large mass.

“And you could practically see them come alive from that. Drooling, rubbing their dicks through their pants, because all they want to do is break you. Wreck that tight little hole of yours. Make your first time memorable. Two cocks fucking inside of you. Who could say that they got double-penetrated on their first time?” You could feel his heavy balls jump. He wanted to see that too, didn’t he? To see you wrecked like this. After all, he was a saint for holding back for as long as he did.

“And god—baby, would you call me a monster if I wanted that too? To see you take cock for the very first time? To see you crying out about how it wasn’t going to fit? But you’re a good boy, right? You’d relax for me? And take my cock in? No complaints?” Fingers. You could feel him rubbing at your rim when he brought your legs over his shoulders, one on each side. It was wet with spit, cold against your pucker as his cock jumped at the thought. Your own dick leaking pre-cum in turn.

“N-no—would want you to.” You gulped, a grit in your throat you tried to pacify. Then, a grit in your mind, because you reached over to replace Zane’s hand over your cock and his with your own. God, he was a handful. You could barely wrap around it with your fingers, let alone both of your rubbing cocks. But you tried, and your efforts were met with a shuddering moan from Zane, a shiver rolling up his spine tenfold compared to his hand. “I think I can take it—I’ll be good. I promise—“

“You’ll be good? You’re smart, (M/N). There’s no ‘thinking’ when it comes to this. Only an ‘I can’ and an ‘I can’t.’” His blonde locks hovered over his eyes as they casted downwards, addicted to the way your pucker kissed at the pad of his finger. Enamored of your beautiful hand holding his cock and yours as tightly as if your sanity had depended on the two throbbing erections. His hips buckled when you began thumbing at his slit, spreading your pre-cum with his, and that was when he knew he was devoted to pleasing you—when he pushed a lubed finger inside of you without warning, watching the way you struggled to swallow the length of his finger. “Which is it?”

You broke out into a staggered moan. The introduction of his digit collapsing the gears in your mind, having been conquered by nothing but an empire of pure lust, and you resisted, with a tension around the first knuckle.

“I-I can!” A guttural gasp when his finger began maneuvering inside of you, working you open little by little. Past his cuticle, then he would pull out. Then down to the first knuckle, you would then pucker. Then plunged deep to where the webbing of his fingers met, and you would gape. He cycled through with little alternations, fingering you while providing your cock and his the warmth and friction they desperately plead, stroking in sync.

“You can, what?” Two fingers inside of you, your hole sticky and slick with a generous amount of lube, pistoling past initial limitation. You shut your eyes with strain when Zane pushed a third into your heated hole. He had you holding your legs up now, splayed out with your feet in the air as he flattened himself onto his stomach to watch your hole with an inquisitive, yet lewd mind. Every now and then, he’d pull himself out to taste you, sucking his fingers clean, then endeavoring upon his curiosity with focused licks to your hole, flicking and swirling around your rim, then entering to dig inside of you.

“O-Oh, god—I-I can—“ Your cock throbbed at the sight of his imposing body—flushed with heat and sweat, splotches of red on his body from where you grasped and held onto him previously. You stilled, but your hands moved to tangle within Zane’s full locks, pulling, yanking, tugging, at the magical plowing your hole was taking from his wet tongue. “C-Can take your cock, Zane—“ Upon those final words, he ended his rimming with a loud slurp, then a sudden splat of spit to your hole—perceptive to the lube drying out on your body.

It was grand. Watching Zane’s broad body crawl back into position, onto his knees, then forward as he lined your smaller body with fleeting kisses. Kisses to the tip of your dripping cock, to your happy trail, to the supple skin of your stomach and chest, to your nipples, to your neck, then finally to your lips, where he spent majority of his delight upon. His questing fingers snuck to tend to his muscular cock, applying a thick amount of lube in midst, a mess on the sheets you’d figure you could later scold him for, and pressed the slick, wet head to your heated rim. You whimpered at the imposing taught, your hole puckering obscenely in apprehension.

“Going to make love to you,” Zane mumbled into the kiss, the other hand fondling your cock to ease the tension in your ass, in your legs, in your back, in the grasp you have on his shoulders. “Gonna make sure you feel full with my cock. Make you think about nothing but my cock. Make you mine with my cock. Make your hole ruined with my cock.”

“Ruin me…” You said with a pleading whine. Your hands caressed his large back, squeezing whatever came to your palm and under your fingertips, and you gazed into Zane’s promising eyes, your own imploring in case he were to turn on his words.

The scent of desire filled the air—one more yearning kiss, to quench the drought of your throat, and Zane loved you like this. Folded in between his embrace, his arms tucked around you as a safety net, rubbing your hole with his cocked, making small circles, your feet over his shoulders—he blessed a kiss on both ankles—quivering, fear and want dancing in the light of your eyes, and he finally pushed, slowly until the head of his cock slotted in.

Your chest lift upon the intrusion as you strain your head forward and groan with distraught. “O-oh, f—“

“Relax… Just relax…” He was barely in, his cock almost slipping out as you sealed yourself shut and kept pushing himself out, but Zane resisted, countering with a persistent push until you’d open yourself up for him again, allowing him to enter you a centimeter more. “You got this…” His words were comforting, the kisses on your chest and neck soothing the burn beneath you, and you loosened bit by bit, though with difficulty.

“M-mm, u-ugh…” It was lewd, fucking erotic with the whimpers that came out of your mouth, the heat remounting from their bodies reflecting with a fog on your glasses. Zane didn’t want to, but he had to shut you up with another loving kiss. Another peep out of you would’ve unscrewed the armor that had been holding him back from ravishing you completely.

Your scent drifted to Zane, potent and intoxicating, and it was upon impulse when Zane decided that he needed to be selfish, and take you for himself. Your entire groan tingled, the pressure on your opening suddenly too harsh, and your hole protested, the ring of muscle clenching tight when he pushed in more of his cock. “Need you, need you so fucking bad. Need to fuck you. Need to make love to that sweet, tight hole of yours.” Words spilled out of your mouth, his tongue sloppily tasting the corner of your mouth, then chin, and his cock fondled your balls and cock, squeezing, tugging, stroking, because he had to over-compensate. Zane was strong. Determined. And broken. Your body defied any reason to refuse his cock in any longer, opening for him, and inviting hm in upon the force of one long, deep, and guttural thrust.

“That’s it. I know, baby. I know. It hurts. I know… Just… Fuck… Relax for me…” His words were gentle, almost cooing when you instantly caught your breath, and then paused his thrusts with your hands on his toned thighs. Even so, the undeniable proof of your arousal, the throbbing and twitching of your cock, spilling thick strings of sticky pre-cum, was the sole evidence that allowed him to plunge himself deeper inside of you, past your resistance, until his pelvis met your ass. “There we go… Not so bad, right? Fuck, you’re so fucking tight…”

“M-mm, full—“ You felt so full, the discomforting pleasuring hitting you like a lightning bolt when Zane pulled himself completely out to watch your hole deliciously gape, then flushed himself back inside of you with one thrust. Your ass felt like it couldn’t handle any more of Zane’s cock. You clenched tight around his thick girth, feeling the veins throb with imposing lust, feeling his balls jolt and twitch as you squeezed even tighter when he began officially thrusting, whimpering louder.

“So full, right? Your ass taking my cock right now. God, I wish you could see it, baby…” Zane had brought himself up, his posture straightened to feast his eyes upon the sight of the tight ring swallowing his thick cock whole. He was practically salivating, the self-restraint he has had unlocking with every thrust, kissing at your ankles, your feet, as your legs remained hooked over his shoulders. His muscular body—sweating bullets, draining yet feeding him with heat while he flexed his stomach upon moving his hips against you. He made you feel loose and hollow, and your cock agreed with a desperate plea to be touched. Some form of friction around its veins, and you fulfilled it with a wrap of your hand, stroking yourself to the lewd sight before you, to the beastly groans Zane thickened the air with, to the smell of musk and sweat radiating from bonded bonds, to the glorious drilling your hole was enduring. There was wild fury in Zane’s face, of strength and passion, thick veins surging through his arms, biceps, neck, as he held the lower-half of your body higher, and fucked into you. You feared him as you wanted him, taking him like you had promised.

“Z-Zane! God, you feel so—g-good!” Fierce and untamed, Zane powered into you upon that confession. A slur of sounds you’d make, beautiful in his ears, embarrassing to your own, but Zane made you feel so wanted, so loved, that you didn’t mind baring it all for him. He downed your moans with a kiss, a gulp, a sloppy open-mouthed kiss as he was desperate to hear more of you, licking inside of your mouth while he stretched you open and filled you with his cock. “H-harder—Want your c-cock…” You’d give it to him, delegating those pretty whimpers that he’d happily starve for and feeding it to him tenfold. Whimpers, grunts, and moans ripped out of your mouth while tiny tremors and tingles explode from your overfull guts. You were taking him. Taking his cock. Taking him like a good boy. Wetness trickled out from his pounding, a leak of lube splattering upon the connecting impact of Zane’s hips to your ass.

“So good. That’s my good boy. Fucking take it. Good boy. Fuck. Take my cock. You like it, don’t you? You love being filled with my thick cock, don’t you? Been thinking about this since we’ve met, haven’t you?” Zane reminded you as your eyes rolled back in their sockets, leaving only the whites of your eyeballs visible. It felt like a punishment for asking him to do all of this with you—this mutual tutoring. But god, if it truly was, you needed to find more ways to make his blood boil.

“C-close—“ That was how you always jerked your cock off. Rubbing the sloppy, swollen tip of it against the palm of your hand. Rough and smooth, you liked it that way. You would accidentally rub at the most sensitive spot at your cockhead, ramping up closer to your inevitable climax, and that was what you did in this current moment. You rubbed your cock to the heavy weight of Zane’s dick inside of you, the tickle of his mustache on your lip, the crooked, fucked-out position of your glasses, the tantalizing depth his cock had reached inside of you. Zane’s hand skimmed down your chest, stopping over your nipple, where he tugged and pinched with a thumb and a forefinger. Close. You were so fucking close. One hand reached up to Zane to hold his nape and keep him from pulling away from you—because you needed him to watch you, to see you crumbling upon his very eyes.

“Come… Keep stroking that cock. So close, baby. I’m so fucking close, hm? Look so beautiful—god, I could do this all day. Could spend forever doing this with you. Fucking your ass. Making love to that hole… Making love to you.” Every word that came out of his mouth was a spell that took you higher and higher to your climax. He had his hands around your hips now, his biceps bulging as he powered you down onto his thrusts, and right there—Zane felt it, you felt it. You both hissed when his slick crown dipped to your sealed entrance, your prostate. A little more. Just a little more and—you felt him.

“S-shit, Zane! R-right there—“ You choked out.

With a subtle angle change of Zane’s hips, you felt his throbbing cock struck your prostate like it was rock, mined it as it you’d been concealing gold and life’s greatest treasure from the world. In a way, you did because you unleashed an unholy moan that sent tremors to the goosebumps on Zane’s body. He’d branded you now, ironing you with his cock, deep plunges deep into your hole, into your prostate. If his hickies was not enough proof of his devotion, you were convinced with the absolute euphoria Zane had sent your body in with the weight of his cock. You thought you knew ecstasy, thought you knew what it was like to be pleasured and fulfilled—but this was an entirely different level.

“Shit, baby. I need to come inside—“ He was ruined. Zane was fucking ruined. HIs hips on autopilot. Large, rough hands roamed your body, squeezing whatever came into his palm. He helped you in stroking your cock with one hand, the other playing with your nipples, or squeezing your waist, or squeezing your throat. He didn’t know what to do. He was delirious, fucked out of his mind, and all that mattered was that it was with you.

“P-Please—Come inside me, please—“ You managed to gather yourself and plead with him. As if he would ever deny that opportunity. But you needed Zane to know that you desperately wanted him just as much as he did. You wanted him in there. You wanted his loads desperately sticking inside of you, filling and keeping you warm even if his cock had abandoned your hole.

Your pupils were blown out, Zane’s blue eyes glowing as the size of his shaft stretched your flesh out, stirring the inside of your hole, kissing your prostate with every thrust. He held you close, arms clasped around your neck to fold you toward him. He had you whimpering with overwhelming sensations, the stretch of your legs and back forgiving because Zane was deep inside of you, turning you in and out like he had promised, overpowering any pain in your body while he circled his hips. Upon watching him, you’d never seen someone looked so pleased, so determined, impaling you with his cock over and over, brushing your body with his rough hands, and on the nth stroke of your cock, so relieved as he indulged on your endurance for as long as he could, before spilling his thick load inside of you. Not a second after, you chased after him in pursuit, your cum sprouting from your cock in six shots, Zane doubling that amount in your ass.

You both shared a deep, guttural moan, wallowing in your shared orgasm with a long, gratifying kiss while Zane continued to dump himself inside of you, panting, refusing to catch up on his breath, and stripping you the chance to do the same as he began moving his hips again. Languidly for the rest of time, but you felt his cum pushing deeper into you, warming up your guts with the help of his cum-covered cock. Your body was at his disposal, and he seized the opportunity to remind you that it was no longer your body, but his.

“You okay?” Slowly, he unfolded your body until it was flattened with the weight of his body collapsed on top of yours. You could feel his heartbeat, his muscular chest slick with sweat pressing to yours, slowly but surely coming down from its high. He was unwilling to pull himself out of you, the warmth of your hole around him nearly lulling him to sleep. Exhaustion in his eyes, but he mustered up enough strength to take care of you, stroking your hair back after licking your cum off your body in midst of repositioning.

You kissed him again, wanting to taste yourself off his tongue, and Zane accepted that as an answer, laughing into your mouth. “I’ve taught you well, haven’t I?”

“Couldn’t have asked for a better tutor.” You mumbled sleepily, hiding the blush in your cheeks into his shoulder while fatigue struck the muscles in your body until it begged for a rest. You wrapped your arms around him, embracing his large body into your own. His warm smell, his soothing voice, his adoring touch—you couldn’t fathom going back to a life without Zane in your life, teaching you about anything and everything, just as you did for him. It made your chest swell at the thought, your heart twisting itself until it began to hurt. But Zane kissed you once more, something that felt perpetual, and you’d calm.

“What are you doing for the summer?” He whispered, nuzzling his mustache against your cheek like you liked. He fixed the crook of your glasses with a twist, impressed by how they hadn't fallen off the entire time he was fucking into you.

“Working… Tutoring’s still in session for the summer classes, so I’ll be here.” You nodded, and he hummed in response. There was a brief silence, you’d reckon that could hear him thinking if you had the skills to.

“So… you know how I wanted you to meet the team? Maybe we could do that over the summer. What do you think? Think it’s only right to introduce my boyfriend to my best friends.” Nibbling on your ear now. You squirmed, ticklish as the tiny bristles of his mustache brushed against places that had never been touched. His smile only made it worse, the curve of the hairs grazing over your lobe and the shell of your ear.

“I’m your boyfriend?” It was impossible to stop yourself from smiling from ear to ear. The label made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside.

“You didn’t think I did this all because I wanted to have sex with you, did you? I mean, it’s been months—“

“No, no—I was just…” You shook your head to shrug off even trying to reason with your confusion. “What about Nico and Austin? They were being kind of—“

Deceitful fingers spidered over the span of your belly. Lower, and lower. A roguish smile slowly formed on his face as he began fondling your sensitive flaccid cock. He then turned to you, gently pressing your nose to his.

“We can talk about that when the time comes.”

“When the time comes for—“

“You’ll see.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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catscidr · 4 months

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// taking care of your dogboy (hsr edition!) //

i. note — sry i havent been posting yall i got a job + ive been working on three cosplays at the same time bc my local con is coming up lmao (´ཀ`」 ∠) however the brainrot never stops. it only takes a break. a little break of approximatively. a month. ish. ......... anyways dog hybrid hsr boys brainrot !!! lmk if we want more of this with more boys •ᴗ• comments and asks are appreciated hehe ii. includes — blade, gepard, boothill and gn!reader iii. cw — slice of life stuff turning into smut, possessive behaviour, overstim, slight dom/sub dynamics, real messy stuff, manhandling. use of the word "hole" to keep reader gender neutral iv. wc — 1,9k

blade is a mutt riddled in scars and dirty bandages from living on the streets and fighting to survive.

you think he might be some german shepherd mix, but he refuses to let you swab his teeth n gums for a dna test (last time you tried you narrowly avoided a punch to the face. he apologized in his own way afterwards), so whenever people ask, just say he’s a rescue to avoid revealing that you actually just… don’t really know what breed he is. they usually drop the subject and simply go on their merry way, seeing as he wasn’t the type of pup to appreciate affection from strangers anyways– it’s rare for you to leave the house in the first place, though.

you had to switch to a remote job because blade is just so persistent when it comes to you. although possessive is a much better descriptor, because he doesn’t let anyone near you. whenever you leave to get groceries he ends up practically breathing down your neck from how close he gets— acting as if he were your literal shadow— glaring at everyone that gets too close to you. you’ve made it a habit to always go to self-checkout lane so blade doesn’t scare off the cashiers.

the second you get home he’s all over you, determined to rid you of that outside stench and replace it with his own. you started packing your grocery bags in a way that nothing will break if (read: when) you suddenly drop them on the floor, all because you’re so familiar with blade’s impatience.

he holds you still by engulfing your body with his, knees caging your hips as he grinds into you, shallow and deep. blade’s growls and huffs fill your ears just as much as his cock fills your hole, his knot kissing your tightness from the outside.

“do you like this? like how i have to fuck you every time you decide to go outside again when you could stay here,” with me blade omits, his tail swishing back and forth on the bedsheets behind him, the sound just barely grounding you to reality.

your grocery bags were long forgotten on the foor (as they usually are), your mind too foggy to function. clawing at the sheets, you try to crawl away from blade’s grip— to no avail.

he tuts, craning his head to bite down onto the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “i might just need to mark you for extra precaution,” he bucks into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. you hear squelching, the constant plap! plap! plap! from his thighs smacking against your ass and whine, broken babbles leaving your kiss-bruised lips.

“b-blade, y’can’t- ah,” he shushes you by plugging you full of his lengthy cock, his knot almost threatening to press inside of you. you whimper, feeling lightheaded from a mix of both nervousness and arousal.

he soothes the hickey he left on your neck, licking it languidly as he stills to bask into the way your hole throbs around him. warm and tight and oh so tempting.

“shit, wanna fill you. wanna… have everyone know they can’t have you. you’re mine, mine to love ‘n mine to fuck,” you’re not lucid enough to process his thinly veiled confession, too busy writhing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to get him to continue moving.

you might want to invest into some good concealer or into those skin coloured tattoo patches to cover the bruises and bite marks blade’ll leave on you if you want to continue being a functioning member of society. you can’t really be walking around in public as if a dog had just mauled you right before you left the house, can you?

gepard is a golden retriever because of COURSE he is. similarly to blade, he likes to invade your personal space a lot— not because he’s possessive, but because he’s extremely protective of you.

the random bruises you used to randomly notice on your body faded as soon as he came into your life. gepard’s soft, lingering touches healed them; gently placing a hand on your hip before you bump into sharp furniture so it doesn’t hit you, redirecting your head to his shoulder as you nod-off in the train before you bang your head, and so on.

it’s a full-time job and he’s working 24/7, always on the lookout for anything that could possibly hurt you as you saunter off… wherever, without a care in the world— because he took care of everything!

he would clean the apartment for you, cook (though you usually insist you do the cooking; a human doesn’t have the same taste in food as a hybrid), and even act as your own personal alarm clock. gone were the days of being woken up by loud, blaring beeping. gepard woke you up with forehead kisses instead, making your mornings much more pleasant.

but poor geppie, he’s always taking care of you; so take care of him, won’t you?

every so often you’ll sit in his lap to help him get rid of whatever stress he held in his body. your hands will knead at the muscles in his broad shoulders, all while you simultaneously kiss away the strain in his face. his brows are furrowed as you do your best to soothe his muscles; you never forget to smooch his cheek, nose and the corner of his lips.

though the attention and gentle acts of affection always ends with your hands lower than they should be.

“ah ah, no touching, remember?” you murmur in his ear playfully. you had been at it for what felt like hours; gepard’s cock and abdomen was smeared with the remnants of his cum, skin tacky from his previous loads. your hand shows no sign of stopping, not even when he begged oh so sweetly.

“c-come onn. just… jus’ wanna kiss…” and who were you to deny your sweet boy? your lips find his in a heartbeat, his tongue swiping over your own sloppily as he breathes you in like a depraved man.

the only condition you had when you did this was for him to keep his hands to himself— at least until you both decide to move on to something else. until then, his fists clench the sheets beneath the both of you, and his ears stay flat on his fluffy head.

“i’m… i’m close again, g- aah, please, please…!” he begs, cock weeping precum as you continuously jerk him off. you smile, absentmindedly rocking your hips to the rhythm you held him prisoner to— gepard was too engulfed in the warmth of your hand to notice, anyways. “cum whenever you want sweet boy,” you purr, and he keens as he buries his face in your neck, his hips lifting off the bed ever so slightly as they meet your hand and he thrusts, riding the high of his orgasm.

sticky cum coats your hand for the nth time; you relent your grip on his cock for his sake, instead choosing to shower him with chaste kisses all over his face. gepard whines, taking ahold of your waist weakly as he breathes into the crook of your neck.

“geppie, your han-“ he cuts you off, swiftly switching positions so you’re now laying on your back as he hovers over you, chest rising and falling quickly, catching his breath from the intensity of his orgasm. gepard’s tail wags slowly behind him as his hands creep up from your waist to your chest just as slowly- you feel his cock harden against your pelvis, precum spilling from his pinky tip.

“‘ts my turn now,” he huffs, leaning down to nip at your neck.

boothill is the most obnoxious dalmatian hybrid you’ve ever seen (not that you’ve seen many, or at all). but he’s made your life so fun so you can’t be too mad at him

he’s always dragging you out of bed to go do something— could be going to the park nearby or sit in the living room playing video games on your dusty console, it doesn’t matter because he’ll MAKE you step out of your cozy nest!!

you’re glad he’s friendly, because you’re not sure how you would handle such an excited hybrid when you left the house. people come up to the both of you to chat and he indulges their questions, essentially leading the conversation (while you stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say).

boothill is also great with kids, unexpectedly. 9 times out of 10 when you go to the park he ends up playing with someone’s child, bright smile on his face as he messes up their hair with a rough hand. they’ll throw a frisbee for him to go catch and he’ll do it happily, or he’ll even… teach them how to beat people up.

(you stare mortified as he teaches a little girl how to throw a proper punch only for her to then punch her parent when she leaves boothill’s side. you go up to them and apologize profusely, forcing boothill to bow with you.)

he also loves to help you out, even though he’s not the greatest at household chores— but he definitely tries! though he is a stellar cook, which never fails to surprise you whenever he’s on dinner duty. he just… really sucks at everything else.

it’s… mostly because he just has so much energy. he sweeps the floor? nope, he’s picking off the pieces of the broom off of the floor because he accidentally broke it. he’s fixing your bed? nuh uh, you’re throwing out the ruined bedsheets because he accidentally tore them to shreds somehow.

so, with all of these accidents happening because he’s just brimming with energy 24/7, you started purposely exhausting him. or, rather, gave him the green light to exhaust you until he tires himself out.

“booth-aah, w-wait, you’re being too…!” you fall over on top of his hard chest, keening at the new angle his cock reached inside of you. he repeated his assault on the spot that made you see stars as your jaw gaped, broken moans leaving your lips.

“don’t tell me y’re tapping out.. haa, already!” boothill grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. he throws his head back with a loud moan, abs tensing as he nears yet another climax— the 5th one of the night. maybe, maybe not. you lost count after the third one.

you bury your face into the crook of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his cock plugging you full instead of the soreness, the burn in your muscles that came from your knees holding you up on his lap.

watching you riding him will always be his favourite thing in the world, even if he always ends up fucking up into you and taking back control at the end of the night.

“gonna cu-uum…” you whine, clenching around his length almost painfully tightly, hearing his breathing hitch as an orgasm is ripped out of him in consequence to yours. boothill’s fingers dig into your ass, his hips lifting off the bed as he cums deep inside of your sloppy hole again, sticky fluid building up beneath the sheets.

you collapse on top of him fully, chest heaving against his own as you come back to your senses, slowly but surely. boothill’s ears perk up, hearing how your breathing had evening out.

“so… got another round in ya?”

2K notes · View notes

highvern · 7 months

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Rough

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: Cheol’s hands, fingering, spitting, minor pain kink, pussy slapping, teasing/begging, thick dick cheol, unprotected sex, creampie, minor breeding kink, mating press, soft(ish) dom Cheol, strength kink, he’s wearing a watch and his chain, praise

Length: ~2k

Note: an ode to Cheol's hands, and his c*** i needed a cigarette while looking at pictures of his hands for this fic. everyone rot with me @gyuswhore @wonustars @ourdawnishotterthanourday @seokgyuu

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