#i think it’s got something to do with the face shape i think the jaw is too wide maybe

[goldfades]

the same person ─── luka dončić⁷⁷ (crash out couple)

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.3k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | valentine's day w/ ur fav crashout's!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | some banter, bad cook luka, other than it's just fluff!

You wake up to the smell of something burning.

Not exactly the most romantic start to Valentine’s Day, but at this point, you know exactly what’s happening.

Luka’s in the kitchen.

Which means your kitchen is currently a war zone.

You sigh, stretching out against the warm sheets before dragging yourself up. The bedroom door is already cracked open, and you can hear him moving around—heavy footsteps, cabinet doors swinging open, the occasional muttered curse in Slovenian.

You step out, barefoot, tugging on Luka’s sweatshirt from last night, and immediately stop at the sight in front of you.

Luka stands in front of the stove, concentrated as hell, with a spatula in hand and an extremely questionable pancake situation unfolding on the skillet.

The first thing you notice? The heart-shaped pancake mold he’s trying so hard to use.

The second thing? The already burnt attempts sitting on a plate to the side.

You bite back a laugh, leaning against the counter, watching as he very delicately tries to flip the batter.

“How’s it going, chef?” you tease.

Luka jumps, nearly drops the spatula, and then whips around to see you standing there. He looks—guilty, like he got caught doing something illegal, and then a little sheepish as he glances back at his pancake disaster.

“I wanted to make you breakfast,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face.

You grin, stepping closer, peeking over his shoulder. “And instead, you made… this.”

“Hey.” He shoots you a look, reaching behind to pinch your hip. “I tried.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek against his back. “I love that you tried.”

He exhales, dropping the spatula, and turns in your arms, wrapping you up in a hug. “I was gonna bring it to you in bed.”

You hum, grinning against his chest. “And if I took one bite, you’d have to carry me to the hospital.”

Luka groans, nudging his face into your neck. “You are so annoying.”

“But you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

The thing about Luka is that he’s not really an over-the-top, grand-gesture type of guy.

He’s more quiet in his affection. More about being there, making sure you have what you need, showing up in all the little ways that make it so easy to love him.

But Valentine’s Day? He tries.

And this year?

This year, he planned.

You don’t even realize what’s happening until you’re already in the car, sitting in the passenger seat while Luka drives you out toward the coast, one hand resting on your thigh, the other gripping the wheel.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?” you ask, glancing at him.

He just smirks, shaking his head. “Nope.”

You squint. “So you do have something planned?”

“I always have something planned.”

You snort. “That is such a lie.”

Luka laughs, squeezing your leg. “Just wait.”

You should have known he’d pull some shit like this.

Because an hour later, you’re sitting on a private beach, tucked away under a sunshade, waves rolling lazily in front of you, a whole setup in place—blankets, pillows, a small table with your favorite food, and Luka sitting beside you, looking very pleased with himself.

“You really did this?” you ask, still in awe.

Luka, leaning back on his hands, grins. “I did this.”

You shake your head, biting your lip to stop the stupid smile from spreading across your face. “Wow. My man’s a romantic now.”

“I always have been,” he says, nudging you with his knee.

You raise a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” He smirks, reaching out, brushing his fingers along your jaw. “Why do you think I got you in the first place?”

You roll your eyes, but your face is warm—because he’s right.

Luka pulls you in, settling you between his legs, wrapping his arms around your waist as you both sit there, watching the waves, just existing in the moment.

It’s peaceful. Warm. Easy.

And with Luka? It always is.

By the time dinner rolls around, you and Luka have fully settled into your usual back-and-forth rhythm—the kind of banter that could make people at the next table think y’all have been married for decades.

“Are you seriously still talking about the pancakes?” Luka groans, shaking his head as he cuts into his steak.

“Yes, because you tried to poison me this morning,” you say, pointing at him with your fork.

“It was one burnt pancake—”

“It was all of them, Luka.”

He exhales through his nose, taking a sip of his wine like he needs the strength to deal with you. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You set off the smoke detector.”

“You’re welcome,” he deadpans.

You blink. “For what?”

“For making sure it works.”

You stare at him. “You are so lucky you’re cute.”

He smirks, reaching over to steal a piece of your food off your plate. “I know.”

You slap his hand away, but it’s too late. Luka grins, popping it into his mouth and leaning back in his chair, looking very smug.

“You literally have your own meal,” you say, exasperated.

“Yours tastes better.”

You glare. “Because you stole it.”

He just shrugs, sipping his wine again like the menace he is.

Your teammates—who were definitely listening in—are dying at this whole conversation, especially when Luka, with zero shame, tries to steal another bite.

“Oh my god,” you groan, holding your plate away from him.

“I just wanna try it,” he says.

“You already did.”

“But—”

“You have your own food.”

“But—”

“Luka.”

Sabrina chokes on her drink, trying so hard not to laugh at you two literally bickering like an old married couple.

Luka, though? He’s so entertained.

He leans in, propping his chin on his hand, watching you with that boyish, shit-eating grin that he knows drives you insane. “You like arguing with me, don’t you?”

You huff, shaking your head. “I’d like to get through a meal without having to defend my plate.”

He laughs, full and unbothered. “Too bad.”

You roll your eyes, about to say something else, when you notice him subtly reach for something in his pocket.

Then—he places a small, velvet box in front of you.

Your breath hitches.

“…Luka?”

His grin softens. “Open it.”

You glance at him, then at the box, then back at him—before carefully picking it up and flipping it open.

Inside?

A diamond necklace with your jersey number in delicate, sparkling detail.

You gasp, eyes going wide. “Luka—”

He tilts his head, watching you closely, waiting for your reaction.

You stare at the necklace, your heart doing something stupid in your chest, and then you press your lips together, exhaling sharply through your nose.

Because you can’t believe this.

Because—

You reach into your own bag and pull out a matching box.

Luka blinks. “Wait—”

You slide it across the table.

He picks it up, already shaking his head. “No way.”

“Open it.”

He does.

Inside?

The same exact necklace—except with his jersey number.

A beat of silence.

Then—

You both burst into laughter.

“Are you serious?” Luka wheezes, holding the box like he can’t believe it.

You shake your head, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt. “We’re literally morphing into the same person.”

Luka leans forward, shaking his head with a huge smile. “This is actually insane.”

“You are insane.”

“You are,” he shoots back.

You just laugh, reaching over to grab his face with both hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. He hums against your mouth, smiling, hands sliding around your waist to tug you closer.

When you pull back, Luka’s still grinning, eyes soft as he looks at you.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

You run your thumb over his cheek, still holding his face. “Yeah, I know.”

He laughs, shaking his head before kissing you again.

And honestly?

This might just be the best Valentine’s Day yet.

[sturnswrites]

night to remember

where innocent!reader and protective!matt go out to dinner on valentines day because both of them are free...

You hadn’t planned on doing anything special for Valentine’s Day. In fact, you’d purposefully ignored the date, treating it like any other workday, refusing to let the sight of heart-shaped balloons and overpriced flower arrangements remind you that you were very, very single.

So when Matt texted you that afternoon—Doing anything tonight?—you figured he wasn’t doing much either.

Nope. Just working late, you’d replied, expecting the conversation to end there.

Dinner?

That one word made your stomach flutter, though you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t a date. It was dinner. Two people who had known each other forever, who worked together now, who happened to be free on the most romance-fueled night of the year. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you stood in front of your mirror, fixing your hair for the third time. You had dressed with careful indifference—something nice, but not too nice. Professional but not work-related. Something that wouldn’t make Matt’s sharp blue eyes linger too long or send the wrong message.

When he picked you up, he was waiting outside his car, leaning against it with his hands in his pockets, looking infuriatingly good in a black button-down with the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal his forearms. The moment you stepped outside, his eyes swept over you, slow and deliberate.

"You clean up nice," he said, that signature smirk tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, though you could feel warmth creeping up your neck. "So do you."

The restaurant was a cozy, dimly lit Italian place that neither of you had been to before, tucked away from the overly romantic hotspots of the city. It felt like neutral ground—safe, familiar despite being new, the kind of place where two people who weren’t on a date could still enjoy a good meal without the weight of expectations.

At least, that’s what you thought before the waiter brought over a complimentary glass of champagne for each of you, along with a knowing smile.

"From the chef," he said. "Happy Valentine’s Day."

You felt Matt go still beside you, his jaw tightening slightly before he let out a low chuckle. "Guess we don’t really blend in as the ‘just friends’ type, huh?"

Your stomach flipped, but you forced a laugh. "Must be the lighting."

The conversation flowed easily, as it always had. You talked about work, about the latest changes in his office’s interior, about the designs you were still finalizing. But somehow, between shared plates of pasta and stolen sips of champagne, the conversation drifted back to high school.

"You remember that one Valentine’s Day?" Matt asked, swirling his glass absentmindedly. "Senior year, when you got that giant teddy bear from some guy in our class?"

You groaned, hiding your face behind your hands. "Ugh. How could I forget? That thing was almost bigger than me."

"I remember because you hated it," Matt said, amusement flickering in his gaze. "You were so embarrassed, carrying it around all day."

"It was ridiculous," you muttered, shaking your head. "And I barely even talked to the guy."

Matt’s smirk faded slightly, something unreadable passing through his expression. "Yeah. Didn’t stop him from trying, though."

You raised an eyebrow. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

He hesitated, then leaned back in his chair, exhaling a short breath. "Nothing. Just… back then, I remember thinking he wasn’t the right guy for you."

Your pulse skipped.

"Who was?" you asked softly, though you weren’t sure you wanted to hear the answer.

Matt held your gaze for a long moment, and for a second, it felt like the years between high school and now hadn’t changed a thing. That same unspoken tension still hummed between you, a thread that had never really broken, just stretched across time.

But instead of answering, he shook his head, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips. "You were always picky."

The tension lingered between you for the rest of the night, quiet but present, hanging in the air even as he drove you back to your apartment. Neither of you spoke about it, but you could feel it—the way Matt’s hands gripped the steering wheel just a little tighter, the way your breath hitched when his arm brushed against yours while shifting gears.

When he pulled up to your building, he put the car in park but didn’t move to turn it off. Instead, he glanced at you, his fingers tapping against the wheel. "You gonna be okay going up?"

You huffed a small laugh. "I think I can handle walking to my own apartment."

Matt smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something else, something important. But then he just shook his head, exhaling through his nose.

"Goodnight, then."

You nodded, your hand reaching for the door handle—but you didn’t open it.

Instead, you hesitated, biting your lip. You could still feel the warmth of dinner, the champagne fizzing in your veins, the lingering memories of high school ghosts that had followed you both through the night.

And maybe it was that—maybe it was the weight of the past pressing against the present, or maybe it was the way Matt was looking at you now, like he was fighting against something he wanted to do.

Either way, before you could think twice, you turned back toward him.

"Matt?"

He barely had time to react before you leaned in, closing the space between you. Your lips met his, soft and tentative at first, as if testing the waters.

But Matt—Matt didn’t hesitate.

The second he felt you against him, his hands found your face, tilting you closer as he deepened the kiss. It wasn’t rushed, but it wasn’t hesitant either—it was something that had been simmering for years, finally breaking the surface.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Matt’s eyes were hooded, his thumb brushing absently over your cheek.

"You sure you wanna do this?" he asked, voice low.

You swallowed, your heart pounding.

"I don’t know," you admitted, barely above a whisper.

Matt exhaled, his forehead resting against yours for the briefest second before he pulled away completely, his hand falling from your cheek.

"Let me know when you do."

And with that, he unlocked the car doors, waiting for you to step out.

You did—your legs feeling slightly unsteady beneath you as you walked to your building, the night air cool against your heated skin.

But even after you disappeared inside, you could still feel it.

The weight of Matt’s lips on yours.

And the promise in his words.

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

[shiqingxuanz]

ranwan wip

[cursedyuri]

thinking about vi + praise kink, but its you praising her for how good she’s fucking you ahhhhhh and the way she’d get breathier with each pretty word you say, her thrusts getting sloppier and less coordinated <3

vi’s love language is words of affirmation, and it’s not up for debate. when she’s pumping into you, reveling in the slick, lewd noises of her strap splitting you open, it just takes one soft spoken praise to get her breathless.

“you’re doing so well for me, vi,” you coo, gasping when she pushes her hips forward to fill you up again. “f-fuck—you fuck me so good.”

you comb your fingers through her scarlet locks, damp from sweat, and scratch her scalp in the way you know she likes. you swear you see her eyes roll back for a second as she chews the inside of her cheek, arm muscles straining as they cage your frame between them. your eyes move down her body - strong, tense shoulders inked in geometrical black shapes. ample tits, nipples hard and almost red from your teeth earlier, when you’d bitten and sucked at them until she’d lost patience for foreplay. her lean abdomen, angular hips that rock back and forth with practiced precision to fuck her girl just right. you curl your thighs around her waist, encouraging her further, deeper.

when she obliges, red-faced and panting, you grin.

“nobody’s ever made me feel so good,” you admit, voice low. “you—mm, vi—you feel so good.”

vi answers with a breathy grunt, moving one hand to squeeze at your hip. her blunt nails dig into your supple skin, leaving crescent moons in their wake.

“shit, princess,” she rasps. her thrusts have quickened, and you notice a kind of inconsistency in her movements that makes you warm with self-satisfaction—you’ve got her wrapped around your finger.

“hmm? you like being praised, babe?” you curl your legs tighter around her, gasping when she hits a spot inside you that feels blindingly good.

“just like making you feel good,” vi responds, breathless. you’d notice the shaky, almost whiny way she says it if you weren’t so distracted by how well she’s fucking you.

eyes fluttering shut, you let out a sinful moan as vi keeps rutting into that spot - pushing you closer to your orgasm with every thrust of her hips.

“gods, yes—don’t stop, vi, you’re doing so well.” every word that leaves your lips is slurred, syrupy sweet to vi’s ears. you peer up into her eyes and find her slack-jawed and blushing, blue eyes half-lidded with pleasure. she’s looking at you like you’re a revelation.

“wanna be good for you,” she pants, “wanna make you come.”

her thrusts have lost all coordination, but she still manages to prod at your sweet spot with her strap—it doesn’t take long for you to see stars, vision growing blurry as you stutter praise after praise for your red-headed, bruise-knuckled lover. you come for what feels like an eternity, but when you finally re-center yourself, there’s vi.

she kisses your nose, brushing your hair out of your face. there’s a nervous look in her eyes. something hesitant there.

“i liked that,” she says, finally.

thank the fucking gods.

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 7: Firsts

Kyle bought you lunch before your set time. To make sure you ate, he said. He still asked about five times if you felt like you ate enough or needed water even after sitting across from you while you downed a to-go container of pad se ew and your fourth ounce bottle.

You just laugh and point to a piece on your knee. “Babes I got this with nothing but a trenta iced coffee and two hours of sleep in my system. I’m fine, I promise.”

John made a baffled noise at that. Kyle looked like he was going to throw up. That look remained as he went through the process of setting up in John’s studio room. Kyle is meticulous about it. Each step done with care. You feel a bit silly sitting around and twiddling your thumbs.

“Just breathe. It’s fine.” John murmurs in a low rumble that somehow has you relaxing more than the indented party.

“It’s almost more scary doing someone I know.” Kyle huffs.

You laugh. “Can’t be worse than the blown out piece of shit on my left arm. C’mon, I’ve seen what you can do. You’ve got this.”

John nods, sitting on the other side of you.

“Besides, even if it sucks I’ll still be honored to be your first real apprentice tattoo.” You pipe up.

Kyle chuckles, low and unsure. Part of you wants to give him an out, to say he doesn’t have to, but you can see the set of his jaw even as his eyes flick between his supplies and the stencil in his hand nervously. He’s determined as much as he is scared. There’s no getting him out of that headspace until he’s done.

You chose something easy. One of Kyle’s more dainty, simple flash designs for the back of your thigh, just below the curve of your ass. A little bow with minimal shading. Something he’s practiced a thousand times and an easy enough starting point. Plus, you already mentioned having him do a matching one on the other side when he’s ready for it. Easy practice.

“C’mon, at least get the stencil on before you have a panic attack.” You try to keep your voice light, turning your back to him.

Kyle sighs. You hear his stool roll forward as he scoots in close to place it. John shuffles around to stand over him. A nasty part of your brain complains about exposing your cellulite to these two fit men but you push that deep down into nothing. A second, more embarrassing part wonders if you should have chose a more appropriate spot… that maybe you shouldn’t be standing in front of your boss and coworker in teeny-tiny biker shorts that barely cover you. You shove that down right next to the other mean thoughts.

You pointedly ignore the heat that shoots up your spine as Kyle’s hands feel out the shape of your thigh to get it centered - keeping your eyes forward as he slowly presses the paper against you. You could swear a thumb traces the curve of your cheek as he smoothes it but that’s probably just wishful thinking.

“Good job, kid.” John claps a hand on Kyle’s shoulder as soon as the paper is pulled away. You turn around in the mirror to check it, expecting to probably have to move it, but from what you can tell it really is perfect.

“Damn, dude, on your first try!” You grin, clapping happily.

Kyle nods stiffly, but you see the way the corner of his mouth quirks up. You unceremoniously clamber onto the table, moving around so your back doesn’t hurt from laying flat for the next few hours with your arms folded under your head.

“Hey.” You whisper while John steps away to grab something. “Get through this without freaking out and I’ll give you a reward.”

“A reward?” He tilts his head, smile turning from an nervous curl of his lip to a boyish grin.

You jokingly bat your lashes. “I’ll give you a kiss.”

Kyle chuckles. “With tongue?”

You gawk, face hot. “Mr. Garrick! Where’d my knight in shining armor go?”

“Just tryin’ t’ figure out exactly what I’m workin’ toward.”

You hum, pretending to mull it over. “We’ll see. Depends on how well you do.”

Kyle levels a look at you, something heated as his lip catches between his teeth. It’s only there for a moment, gone as soon as he turns to his tools. Replaced by a laser focus.

“Alright.” John settles back into his seat on your other side. “Let’s do one line and then see how we all feel.”

Kyle nods. You shuffle a little to make you’re you’re as comfortable as possible for the next however long. You know it’s going to be a while even if it isn’t a simple design. He’s new and precise with means slow.

The familiar whirr of the gun starts up. You shut your eyes, waiting, hoping that you aren’t projecting any more tension into the room than Kyle is. The needle stings when it finally touches you, but not as badly as you braced for. His touch is light.

He pulls the gun away and let’s put a giant sigh. “How y’feel, luv?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m all good. You?” You tilt your chin a bit to meet his eye.

“Better now that it’s started.”

“Good.” John nods, chest bumping your leg as he leans forward to look. “Looks good. Keep on.”

The room is nearly silent as he works. You turned down the music before coming back so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed - at least that was your reasoning. You’d get overwhelmed. Kyle is more levelheaded than you are, though.

“Thassit.” John smiles - or at least that’s how it sounds in his voice. “Her skin takes ink so well, yeah?”

Fuck, that totally should not do it for you. Gravelly voiced British bastard. You keep your eyes locked onto the flash on the far wall as you attempt to cool down.

Kyle just hums, seemingly unable to talk as he concentrates. He probably is with how dialed in he looks. You take a break before he gets to shading, stretching and getting some water. It takes a while, but not as long as you assumed. You start to get that ache in your skin partway through the shading - that feeling when your nerves are so tired from firing off pain receptors they just all sort of start burning dully.

However long later Kyle pulls away. “I… think it’s done?”

“You think?” John challenges.

Kyle sighs before speaking with more finality. “It’s done.”

There’s a few beats where John assess and you hold your breath. He points to a couple spots where Kyle’s hand slipped a bit or he applied too much pressure, but when you check it out in the mirror yourself you don’t see that all. Perfectionists.

You can’t help but squeal and jump, clapping happily and barely standing still while Kyle puts the saniderm on. You’re just to happy! Not only did Kyle get his first tattoo done but now you have brand new (free) cute ink to show off. Kyle looks tired, though, so you try not over overwhelm him while he cleans up. Concentrating like that with anxiety must have really taken it out of him.

You sort of forget about your promise of a reward for the next week. Too busy focusing on taking care of your new tattoo. The only downside to the placement is sitting in your office chair itches - especially once you take the saniderm off. You’ve mostly taken to standing while working and wearing shorts and skirts to let it breathe. It’s worth it, though. You’ll have to ask Kyle how soon he wants to do the other one. Without being pushy, of course.

You quietly hum to yourself as you get the cash drawers ready to lock away in the backroom safe. Triple checking the bags and making sure tips are divided correctly, etc.

“Hey, lovie.” Kyle saddles up behind you suddenly, hands on your hips.

You jump. “Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry.” He chuckles. A hand slips down your hip, palm tracing the hem of your tennis skirt to lightly rest over the little bow. “How’s she healin’?”

“It’s, uh, it-“ You stutter, eyes wide and skin hot. If it were Johnny, you’d laugh and swat him away - maybe let his hand wander to your ass first - but Kyle doesn’t do this. Not that you don’t like it - the problem lies in that you’re liking it too much. If the patter of your heart is anything to go by. “It’s good. Not itching yet or anything.”

Kyle hums. “Good.”

“Th-that all?”

“Think you forgot somethin’.” He turns you around, hands firmly planted on the softness of your waist. When you just give him a bewildered look he continues. “I was promised a reward, I think.”

“O-oh?” Your face burns, eyes wide. Is he serious? Part of you wants to say no - to push him away. You’re coworkers, after all. Until your eyes meet his, so big and warm and his lips forming a perfect pout. “John….?”

Kyle chuckles ans crosses his chest. “John won’t care. Cross my heart.”

He gives you a moment to mull it over. You don’t think he’s making fun of or bating you - Kyle wouldn’t do that. There’s no way he’s interested either. That’s one delusion you can firmly plant in the ’purely imaginary’ category.

Whatever. What do you have to lose from a little back room make out?

Your lips meets his. Fuck, they’re soft. He steals your breath - greedy and gentile. It’s been so long since you’ve been kissed, much less kissed well. One of the hands on your waist moves to your low back as Kyle leans into you. Your hands grapple onto his shoulders to steady you. He takes advantage of your gasp at being tilted back to swipe is tongue between your lips.

You mould together, breaths heavy and tongues dancing. A needy, pathetic little part of you wishes the hand that drifted from your waist to your hip would hook under your thigh. That Kyle would tilt you all the way back onto the desk and throw your leg over his shoulder, eagerly pushing up your skirt-

An ‘I love you’ dances on the tip of your tongue and you reel back harshly, hand flat on his chest to separate you.

“Alright?” He murmurs, eyes half lidded and dark.

You swallow roughly and nod, breathing hard. “I, uh, I need to finish the safe.”

Something passes across his face briefly as your eyes flick between his. Whatever it was, it’s replaced by his usual easy smile as he returns to standing at his full height, the hands on your waist steady you before disappearing. Your stomach drops as they go.

“See you tomorrow.” Kyle murmurs, pressing one last little peck on your cheek before striding away, leaving you alone in the back room with a hot face and whirlwind thoughts.

Fuck.

A/N: brought to you by the time a tattoo artist told me my skin takes ink well in the most haunting bedroom voice I’ve ever heard😵‍💫 killed me right then and there

[vivwritesfics]

Attention

Charles and Reader just want Max's attention. And they're gonna do anything to get it.

2.2k

Warnings: smut, p in v, charles is such a fucking tease lmao, oral (male!receiving), charles is in charge of this one lol, threesome, man giving oral to another man

"He's been sitting here for hours," she whispered as she and Charles peered around the door, looking at Max as he sat with his headset on his head.

Max didn't notice them. He let out a laugh as he pulled open his mini fridge full of Red Bull cans. "How many of those as he had?" Charles asked, his hand on her hip. The movement of his thumb normally would have been distracting, but the both of them were too focused on Max.

"I don't know," she whispered and tried to look for the empty cans of Red Bull. But Max was meticulously clean, and all of the cans were already in the bin. "But I swear it only takes, like, four of them to kill you."

At that, Charles released a small laugh. "Ma chérie," he began and pressed his lips to her cheek. "I think he has ten on a race day."

She pulled a face, mouth pulling to the side as she looked at Max. He'd been there for most of the day, not giving the two of them the attention they wanted. She turned, back to Max as he looked at Charles. "What're we gonna do?"

He looked past her, looked over her head at Max. He looked tired, but when didn't he look tired? He was always the last one to crawl into bed and, because of that, got the lumpy side of the mattress and the pillow that had lost it's shape. Their subtle way of punishing him.

"We're gonna get his goddamned attention."

To the rest of the world, she was Max's attention. She wore the Red Bull merchandise, wore Max's cap, held his hand as they walked through the paddock. The world saw her be friendly to Charles, but nothing more than that.

But, in the privacy of the apartment they shared, it was the three of them together. She got to hold Charles, to kiss him like she wanted to. Max got to kiss him, too, something they didn't get to do when they were out and about.

They were high profile men. They couldn't go out on dinner dates, according to their PR teams, and if they wanted to go anywhere as the three of them, she had to duck down in the back seat until the roads were empty.

But they weren't out in the public eye together. They were in their apartment, just the three of them. Well, the three of them... and Team Redline.

Charles stayed out of the view of the camera as she walked over to Max. He settled on the sofa, watching as she walked over and crouched beside him. She pulled off Max's headset, her hand settling on his stomach as she whispered something in her ear.

The stream caught as Max's cheeks flushed red. The other members of Team Redline said something, but Max couldn't hear it with the headset resting over his steering wheel. He turned back, looked at Charles on the sofa.

Looking back at the camera, Max raised his finger. He stood up and made his way over to the sofa, disappearing from stream.

It couldn't be seen as Max launched himself at Charles. He wrapped his arms around him, pushing him back against the back of the sofa. He pressed his lips against Charles's stubbled cheek. He hadn't shaved in a little while, and they both knew he was going to let it grow out (which they didn't mind, he looked damned good with facial hair).

"You guys know I'm streaming, right?" He asked as Charles wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight (unwilling to let him go).

Charles gave him a nod. His hand touched Max's cheek, his jaw. His thumb touched Max's pouty lips, asking for something more. "We know that, mon beau," he whispered as Max took his thumb between his lips. He looked up, looked at where she was still by his set up. "We just want some attention."

Max released Charles's thumb from between his lips. "Later," he said and stood up, making his way back to set up. "Let me finish up here." He sat back, sat in front of the stream, and placed the headset back on his head.

But she was still there, still pouting up at him. Max laid his hand on the top of her head, before turning back to the stream. She glared at him, knowing the moment would be clipped up and posted everywhere in moments. But that wasn't what she was glaring at.

Getting to her feet, she made her way over to Charles. The expression on her face softened as she threw herself down beside him, leg thrown over his lap. "He's being a dick," she mumbled as Charles's thumb moved over the bare skin of her lower leg.

"I know," Charles said and kissed the top of her head. "Let me deal with it."

He grabbed a coaster from the coffee table, ready to launch it at Max. But her hand on top of his stilled him. "Cha, don't," she whispered. "I'm gonna get branded as needy again."

The first time was Charles's fault as well. It was the exact same situation, Charles throwing something at Max to get his attention while he streamed. A little bit of hate came her way from that, twitter fans calling her needy.

Charles released a breath but put the coaster down. "Okay," he said and pulled his phone from his pocket. His fingers moved quickly over the screen, sending a quick text to Max.

The moment his screen lit up, Max read the message. He obeyed what the text said, and removed his headset from one of his ears, giving them slight attention. It wasn't enough, though, not for the two of them.

"What now?" She asked, lips so close to his own.

Charles looked over at Max. He hadn't glanced back at the two of them as he took his headset off one ear, still paying attention to the virtual race in front of him. But that was fine, because Charles still had a couple of tricks up his sleeve.

He pulled her onto his lap, hands holding the back of her thighs as she fell forward and kissed him. It was intense, as it normally was with the two of them. Intense, and all for Max.

A noise left her lips, something close to a whine. Her eyes were wide as she pulled away from him slightly, glancing back at Max. Had he heard it? Had his stream heard it?

But Charles held the back of her head, didn't let her turn around to check. "He heard it," he whispered and kissed her cheek, kissed down towards her throat.

"What about his stream?" She whispered, voice hitching as he sucked on her pulse point.

That stopped Charles. He grabbed his phone again and began watching Max's stream, checking through the chat. She watched it too, looking for any mention of her name or anything that could indicate somebody hearing her noises.

"Nothing," he said and threw his phone to the other side of the sofa. "Where were we?"

His hands travelled into her shorts, holding her ass and squeezing. She let out another noise, but Charles could immediately hear that she was holding back.

All the time that Charles touched her and kissed her, played with her body, he was looking at Max. Not at her, waiting for some sort of reaction from their boyfriend.

He pulled her shorts down, exposing her to the air of the living room. "Charles," she whispered, pressing her face against his neck to try and keep the sounds she was making muffled.

"Let him hear you," he whispered, still looking at Max. His head twitched towards them, giving him away, but he didn't pull his eyes away from the screen.

Charles touched her. His finger moved through her folds, discovering just how wet she was. "Fuck, you're loving this," he whispered. Her cheeks heated up, breath hitching when Charles's thumb bumped against her clit.

Max's eyes were on the both of them, game forgotten about. Voices were coming through his headset, but he ignored it. He watched, shorts tightening, as Charles slipped his finger inside of her.

But then he was still. He held her, not very tight, with one finger inside of her. She whined pathetically, and Max quickly glanced at his chat. Nothing, nobody had heard it.

He was still, so still that the members of Team Redline and those watching his stream thought it was frozen. But then she lifted her hips slightly, and sank back down.

One single noise sounded in their apartment. One word, one syllable, four letters. "More," she whined, unable to keep herself quiet.

"Uh, Max? What the hell was that?"

His chat was blowing up, thousands of messages of people speculating what the noise was. A few people got close to getting it right, and that was what had Max apologising and logging off of the stream.

As soon as nobody could see or hear what was happening inside of the apartment, Max strode over to them. "You just couldn't wait, could you?" He asked as he grabbed her hips and pulled her back into him.

She made a desperate noise and Charles slipped another finger inside. "We said we wanted attention," he said with a shrug.

Her hand desperately grasped at Max's arm. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "What do you need, Liefje?" He asked gently, caressing her cheek.

"One of you," she whispered, stilling her hips.

Charles pulled his fingers out of her. He held them up to Max, who opened his mouth and eagerly sucked on them. "You want her?" He asked and Max nodded.

He pulled her shirt over her head and got her onto the floor between his legs. He gripped her cheek, keeping her looking at him. "You know what to do," he said and squeezed her cheeks, forcing her to pout.

She freed Charles from his jeans. As she wrapped her lips around him, Max grabbed her hips and lifted her. He held her hips and pushed himself forward, pushing through her already soaked folds. A groan left his hips and he threw his head back.

"Fuck, Charles," he grunted as he looked down at her boyfriend. "She feels amazing."

Charles knew. He leaned back and watched the two of them. Her throat constricted around him as Max pushed her forward with every thrust. His hand was in her hair, helping to steady her as Max rutted his hips against her.

The sounds that filled the apartment was so damn lewd, more than anything Charles had pulled from her while Max was on stream. The grip Max had on her hips was bruising, and she loved every second of it.

Even had Charles tried to steady her head, it wasn't helping. She was unmoving, letting Max's thrusts do the work for her. Each time his hips snapped against her, she moved forward, taking Charles further down her throat.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, tears that Charles used his thumb to remove. She could tap out any time, she knew, two quick taps to Charles's side, and they would pull out of her. But she didn't want that. She was in her element.

Suddenly, the rhythm was broken. It had been steady, Max's thrusts keeping time. But he was getting close, loving the way she was squeezing him. "Shit," he grunted out, tightening his grip on her hip. "Shit, shit, shit." Two more sloppy thrusts, and he came inside of her. hips stilling, his legs shaking.

With Max still, she was unmoving. Charles's cock was still down her throat and she looked up at him through wet lashes. "You okay?" He asked, gentle for the first time since Max had logged off of the stream.

She nodded, humming around him. But Charles gently grabbed her and pulled her off of him. He pulled her back onto the sofa and set her down beside him, holding her close.

Immediately, Max was on his knees. He took Charles between his pillowy lips and immediately began bobbing his head. "Fuck, that's it," Charles grunted as Max ran his tongue along the vein.

It didn't take Charles long to finish, to spill down Max's throat. Max concentrated his efforts on Charles's tip, and that was what tipped him over the edge. His body tightened, hand reaching out to grip Max's hair as he came.

Still between Charles's legs, Max pulled himself off of his cock and wiped his mouth. "Happy now?" He asked breathlessly as he looked at the two of them.

"I don't know," Charles mumbled as he turned to her. His hand moved through her hair, staying soft with her. "Do you think we got the attention we deserve?"

She shook her head as she looked at Max. "Not just yet," she said.

Fuck, he was in for a long night.

a/n: this is one of the first oneshots i'm proud of in a while, something i managed to just sit down and write without overthinking it, stopping and starting because i hate it and then never posting. I'm not exactly back on my shit, but we're getting there

[cameronsprincess]

hey girly!! can we have a rafe!jj!reader 50 shades of grey type shit? like i’m talking the kinkiest shit going. being tied up, free use, spanking, toys.. the lot! x jj and rafe dom but mainly rafe. xxxx

oh absolutely baby🤍

CW: smut! 18+ only! dom!rafe, dom!jj, free use, bondage, spanking/slapping, degrading, use of a butt plug, throat fucking, piv sex, creampie.

note: to make the dialogue easy without color coding: rafe is bold. jj is italicized. reader is normal.

masterlists.

you, rafe and jj had been together for a few months. there wasn’t much you hadn’t tried yet, but, you were still wanting to find new ways to spice up your sex life.

the three of you are laid on the couch, bodies all tangled together as you watched fifty shades darker. your mind is reeling as you watch the movie, pussy throbbing at the thought of rafe and jj doing these things to you.

you slightly shift your body, rubbing your thighs together as you let out a shaky breath. rafe glances down at you, his blue eyes sparkling as a smirk graces his lips.

“you good, baby?” he rasps, his hand laying on your thigh, squeezing at it softly.

“mhm.. just.. ‘m horny… wanna try something new..” you whimper.

this catches jj’s attention, his eyes ripping from the tv screen and flitting between you and rafe. the latter smiles at jj, filthy thoughts already running through both of their minds. jj places a hand on your other thigh, his fingers tracing random shapes on your skin. his free hand moves to your neck, moving your hair to the side before he leans in, his lips finding the sensitive skin. he trails soft kisses from your neck to your jaw, his teeth nipping at your skin before he finds your eyes.

“tell us what you want, princess.”

rafe smirks, shifting on the couch so he’s sitting straight, his back pressed into the cushions. he grabs your thighs, pulling you into his lap, his hands firmly grabbing at your ass, massaging the flesh underneath his fingers.

you moan, your body rocking against rafe as jj stands from his spot, moving to stand behind you. jj wraps a hand in your hair, yanking your head back and forcing your eyes on his.

“come on, princess. don’t be shy,” his free hand wraps around your throat, gently squeezing before letting go, dragging his hand up to your face and pressing his thumb into your mouth. “what’dya want? hmm?”

rafe rips your shirt down the middle, your bare breasts springing free. he slaps your tit hard before pinching a nipple between his fingers, rolling the hardened bud, “you want us to use you? however we fuckin’ want? is that what you mean? i think this movie got our girl thinking..”

“yes,” you breath out, hands shaking as you continue grinding against rafe’s growing bulge. “please? want to be y’all’s little slut..”

both rafe and jj growl, exchanging a look with one another that has your breath catching in your throat. rafe stands, his hands planted firmly on your ass and bringing you with him. he turns quickly, dropping you down onto the couch, watching intently as your tits bounce. jj disappears outside, returning minutes later with two long pieces of rope. he holds them up, making his way to you, “this what you want, princess?” he asks, dropping to his knees before gripping both your wrists in one hand. your chest heaves, watching as jj tightly wraps the rope around your wrists and forearms.

he stops at your elbows, bringing the remaining length of the rope down and through the opening of your arms. he doubles it back over your arms, tying it off at the top. he grins, “you look fuckin’ pretty with your wrists and arms tied up,” he pauses, standing and shoving the other long piece of rope against rafe’s chest, “tie her legs up.”

rafe scoffs, pushing jj out of the way before falling to his knees before you. “since when do you boss me around, maybank?”

jj just chuckles, “i don’t, but, i dunno about you, i’m ready to get started on using our girl..”

rafe rolls his eyes, choosing not to respond to jj. instead, his pretty blue eyes find yours, dropping the rope to the floor in front of him as his fingers run up your legs. he digs his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down along with your lace panties. both men groan, their eyes going dark at the sight of your glistening pussy.

rafe reaches down, retrieving the rope he’d dropped and looping it around your ankles, running it up your legs and stopping at the bend of your knees. rafe copies what jj did with your arms, pulling the excess rope through the opening of your legs before doubling it over and tying it off.

they both stand, admiring the way you look tied up and ready for them to use.

“god she looks fuckin’ perfect. our helpless little slut.”

“couldn’t agree more,” jj chuckles. “you sure you wanna do this, princess?”

you whimper, nodding your head quickly as your eyes dart between both men. a slow smile spreads across rafe’s face. he squats, grabbing at the rope that binds your arms together and tugging you forward, “words, baby. you know we don’t like that silent answer bullshit.”

“yes. yes i’m sure. please?”

rafe groans, “sound so pretty when you beg us to be used like a slut.”

he pushes you back, standing from his squatted position and stripping himself of his sweats and boxers. jj mimics rafe’s actions, pulling his shirt over his head before removing his basketball shorts and boxers. they both stand before you, gripping their cocks and stroking themselves. jj moves toward rafe, his free hand reaching out and pushing rafe’s hand away, replacing it with his own. rafe lets out a low groan as jj slowly strokes him from tip to base. you squirm, arousal dripping from your pussy and onto the couch, you loved watching them please each other, but you wanted them to touch you right now.

“fuck, jj..” rafe grunts, thrusting his hips forward, fucking his cock into jj’s hand.

you whimper, “please? i need you both…”

jj groans, continuing his slow strokes on rafe’s cock while quickly stroking his own. rafe pulls away from jj, walking toward you and grabbing your upper arms. “jj, come sit.” rafe demands, and jj quickly obeys, “yes sir.”

rafe makes enough room for jj to flop down on the couch, his hard cock bobbing in the air. rafe lowers you down to the ground, your knees hitting the cold hardwood. rafe places a hand in your hair, pushing your head down, your lips rubbing against jj’s thick shaft. jj lets out a moan, his hand quickly gripping his cock before he teases at your lips with his swollen, leaking tip. “ffffuck.. you gonna let me fuck this perfect throat, princess?”

you whimper, parting your lips and letting your tongue fall out. you lick at jj’s leaking tip, the taste of his precum coating your tongue pulling another moan from you. “please? please fuck my throat jj.”

jj smirks down at you, pressing the head of his dick into your mouth. he shoves himself all the way down and you gag around him before sucking in a deep breath through your nose. your cheeks hollow, tongue working against the vein the runs up the bottom of his shaft.

rafe spanks your ass, causing you to moan around jj’s dick. “be right back, wanna do something before i fuck you.”

your eyes roam up, finding jj’s darkened over ones. he presses his tongue against his cheek, his hand gripping the back of your head and pushing you down further, keeping his cock buried deep in your throat. “you’re just gonna warm my cock until i’m ready to fuck this throat, got it?”

you whimper around him, nodding your head the best you can. jj lets out a dark laugh, “good girl.”

the sound of rafe’s footsteps coming up behind you have your body tensing, but you quickly shake it off. you trust them. you wanted this. rafe squats behind you again, his palm slapping at your ass again, making your body jump. jj tightens his grip on your hair, “hey, no moving princess. gotta be real still while you’re warming my cock, okay?”

rafe chuckles, his big hand finding your ass again. he massages the flesh in his hands before he’s spreading your ass open. you hear the sound of a bottle popping open, trying to turn your head to see what rafe was doing but jj yanks on your hair, “stop. moving.”

you look up, watching as jj watches rafe, an amused smile played on his lips.

“alright baby, this is gonna hurt a little, but it’s nothing you haven’t done before. just breathe f’me, alright?”

you suck in a deep breath through your nose, letting it out slowly when you feel something cold being pressed against your ass. rafe continues to slowly push the cold object into your ass, the burning feeling of it stretching your tight hole has tears forming in your eyes. “almost in baby, told you it’ll be okay. we’ve stretched this ass plenty of times. almost… and done.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, a stray tear falling down your face as the thick butt plug fills and stretches your ass. you shift on your knees, swaying your ass side to side. rafe slaps your ass again, the skin tingling and sore from his rough slaps. rafe slides two fingers through the slick folds of your pussy, shoving them inside you before quickly removing them.

“goddamn, you’re soaked baby. tell me, is it jj’s cock down your throat, the plug in your ass, or you being tied up and helpless that has you so fuckin’ wet?”

jj pulls you off his cock, strings of spit attached to your lips and his shaft. “answer him, princess.”

you suck in a shaky breath, “a-all of it..” you whisper.

“fuck, such a filthy little slut, aren’t you baby?” rafe rasps, shoving two fingers inside you again, pumping them in and out slowly.

jj shoves his cock back down your throat, beginning to slowly move your head up and down his thick length. you let out a muffled moan when rafe pulls his fingers from inside you, the head of his cock teasing at your entrance. “gonna fill this pussy with my cum, wanna see it dropping from this perfect goddamn cunt.. what about you, j? you gonna fill this sluts throat with your cum?”

jj groans, continuing to slowly move your head up and down his cock. “fuck yeah.. wanna see her swallow every drop too, we don’t waste what’s given to us, do we sweet girl?”

rafe begins pushing the head of his cock inside you, slowly inching his way in. he lets out a low grunt when he finally bottoms out, his hips slapping against your ass. “so fuckin’ wet, baby.. pussy is squeezin’ me.” his hands find your hips, holding onto them so tight you swear his fingers will leave bruises. he begins fucking himself into you, his hold on your hips growing tighter each time your pussy flutters around him.

jj lowers himself on the couch, keeping his dick in your mouth as he repositions himself. he spreads his legs wider, pulling you further between his legs. his hips buck up once, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat roughly. he slowly drags your head off, leaving just the tip inside before he roughly thrusts back in. his hips find a quick pace, brutally fucking your throat while rafe continues to pound into your pussy from the back.

your body shakes, muffled whines and moans spilling from your lips as they use you for their pleasure.

rafe slows his thrusts, slowly pulling in and out of you, his eyes focused on the way your pussy gripped his dick each time he pulled back. he slowly drags out to the tip, slamming forward again and causing your body to jolt forward. your stomach tightens, warmth flooding your veins. “such a good little fucktoy aren’t you baby?”

jj groans, biting his bottom lip hard as his cock twitches in your mouth, “fuck… so good to us baby, lettin’ us use you like the slut you are.”

your pussy tightens, that knot in your lower belly growing tighter as you near your release. jj’s cock brutally pounds down your throat, his low grunts and groans filling the air along with rafe’s. rafe picks up the pace of his hips, fucking into you harder and faster. both of them fucking a part of you along with the plug that fills your ass has your nerve endings tingling.

rafe and jj’s thrusts become sloppy, both men grunting loudly as their dicks twitch and pulse at the same time. you feel the warmth of jj’s cum spilling onto your tongue and down your throat, his hand in your hair gripping tightly as he holds you down. rafe pushes in deep, holding himself inside you as his cum spills deep inside your pussy.

both men are panting, their cocks softening inside you before they’re slowly pulling out. rafe grins at jj before his eyes fall back down to your pussy, watching a thick glob of cum seep from your pussy. jj grips your cheeks, leaning in to press a kiss on your lips, his tongue intertwining with yours to taste himself. he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. “did so good, princess. so good.”

rafe stands up behind you, leaning down and picking you up bridal style. your body is limp in his arms, wrists, arms and legs numb from how tightly they had the rope tied around you. “you’re a good girl.. we love you, now let’s go get you cleaned up and in bed, yeah?”

your eyes flutter shut, mumbling a soft “okay..” as rafe carries you into the bedroom, jj following closely behind.

tagging some moots: @nemesyaaa @starkeysbabygirl @rafescvntyclubgf @rafesthroatbaby @rafesheaven @hauntedfawnn @rafescorpsebride @rafesbabygirlx @maybejj @maybanksangel @jjsbaby

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey! I love your Cregan fics💕 is it okay if i ask for another fluff Cregan fic?👉👈 i just can't get enough of Cregan fluff

Poison Berries

Who would win? 100 tongues slandering the lady of Winterfell or 1 Cregan Stark?

Cregan Stark x Reader | 700< | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, insecurities, implied body shaming, protective!cregan, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: this is totally me projecting cos my sis and i got body shamed today. it be ur own family i swear

"Where is my wife?" is the first thing Lord Stark says when he returns from his errands. He grunts as he dismounts his horse, eyes fixed upon the stable boy who takes his horse by the reins.

He grunts again at the lack of response and explains, "she told me she would be here when I returned."

The boy shrugs, "I don't know, milord. 've not seen milady all day."

He huffs and nods. He decides to simply look for you in your shared chambers, thinking you would probably be there. Finding your quarters empty, he heads to the library, then the solar, the kitchen, and soon- "where is my wife?!" is heard and repeated all across Winterfell.

Someone tells him you went into the woods to forage, and so naturally, he asks who you left with. He receives no name, and quickly it dawns you had left the safety of stronghold alone. His heart races. How long have you been out? By the old gods, how long have you been out?

Cregan mounts his horse at once and patrols the land. He screams your name out so loudly it disrupts the surrounding wildlife.

He snaps when he hears a response. He is unmistaken; that was your voice calling out his name. Quickly, he answers your call and rides toward you. He nearly leaps from his horse when he spots you, face crestfallen, hair frosty.

He calls your name again, much softer now, voice laced in worry. He captures your cheeks in his hands, hissing when he feels it's unnatural coolness, "are you well?"

You hold a guilty expression as he moves to rub your shoulders.

"Why have you left unaccompanied?" Cregan huffs hotly, his breath condensing with the air, "has something happened?"

"Cregan-" you place your hands on his chest. He stops rubbing your arms.

He watches how you lower your gaze. His face hardens with concern, "my love, speak to me."

You look up at him, eyes now pinkish and teary.

His jaw clenches. He huffs through his nostrils.

"I overheard... ..."

Cregan's expression softens. He clutches your cheeks, "speak," he rubs your skin with his thumbs, "I implore you to speak."

Your sigh turns to fog. You shrug, "they do not think I... I am a true Northern bride."

"True?" he snaps, "you are a Northern bride," he brushes your hair back, "I am Northern and you are my bride."

Your tears become too heavy.

Cregan's stomach churns as he wipes your tears. He hushes you and mutters under his breath, "there can be no truer bride than that of the Lord of Winterfell's."

"I fare horribly in the cold."

"You will grow accustomed to it."

"I do not know how to start a fire."

"Then I shall teach you, if you must lear-"

"But I do not look the part!"

Cregan's face drops.

Your tears begin to turn to frost. Your voice is small, "I do not look like the other ladies. I do not wear the furs well, I do not look shapely... I feel beastly. I was not forged by steel as you are, husband."

He rubs your cheeks, determined to warm you, "and who would slander my wife? Force her to feast on lies?"

You scoff and lower your gaze

"Would that you need be forged by steel-"

You shake your head, "it does not matter."

"It matters greatly," he releases your cheeks, "I will have them answer to their accusations," he clenches his fists, "and we shall see how their furs suit them when they've wet them."

You look up at Cregan, brows furrowing at the sight of his increasing fury.

"I would have them grovel," he mutters, "and sentence them to the Wall if they do not-"

You lips part, "Cregan-"

"Do they believe I would not do that much for the lady of mine own house? My lady?"

"Cregan," you rub the collar of his cloak.

He examines you. A line forms between his brows as he reaches for your wrist.

You look at each other for a moment. His thumb rubs circles on your skin. You raise your brows, "I... I picked a few berries for you," you turn to the basket that laid forgotten on the ground.

His gaze shifts to it.

"Though, I must admit... I am uncertain if they are edible."

He chuckles and takes your hand in his. He kisses your knuckles.

You offer him a soft smile.

The man hums, "perhaps we shall see by feeding them to the slanderers."

You whip your head back, "Cregan."

"A jest... a jest, my lady."

[syoddeye]

What if Simon goes back fo rhis card, but she won't give it back unless he tries again?

prev. next.

"sound it out, big fella."

simon huffs and glares at the barback in the corner of his eye. the man's pretending not to listen, working a damp cloth over a two-top that's already shining.

the place isn't even open yet. the door's propped ajar with a brick, and it's hours before service starts. he came early on purpose, figuring he could grab his card and go. maybe avoid this exact interaction. but no. here you are, dangling it in front of him.

he could take it. just lean over the counter, swipe it out of your hand, maybe get a handful of your hip and a squeeze in the process. but no, you had to go and get cute about it.

"'and it over."

"nice try. you know i mean whatever line you were going to feed me the other night."

"wasn't gonna feed you a line."

"no? then what the fuck was that? a disappearing act?" you lean forward on the counter, elbows resting on the wood, fists tucked under your chin. it makes you look pixieish, face tilted up, playing at innocence, but the glint in your eyes says otherwise. you're enjoying this. "performance anxiety?"

a lick of heat lashes over the back of his neck and curls around his throat until he swallows. "slip of the tongue."

your mouth takes on a shape he'd find annoying on any other face. you tilt your head, and he swears he can almost see a spade tail swishing behind you.

"right. so then what was the plan?"

"there was no plan."

"mm," you hum, skeptical, dragging it out. "and that's why you've sat closer each time you come in? that wasn't you working up the nerve?"

he could lock a single hand around both of your wrists, hoist them above your head, reclaim his card, and get a good long look down your top. easily. he must harbor some kind of masochistic streak to keep talking. it grinds his teeth.

"no, and you're gettin' on my last nerve—"

"i bet i am," you cut in, cheerful and unbothered. "so why don't i make this easier for everyone, and…"

you pull back, then rise onto your toes, leaning over the bar to reach him. he watches, fingers twitching, as you slide the card into the front pocket of his shirt and pat it twice.

"there's a note taped to the back," you smile, wicked and triumphant. "my number. call it. unless you'd like to run for it again."

simon remains frozen for a beat, your hand lingering just long enough to burn its shape into his chest. his jaw flexes, gears gumming up in his head.

you pull back, light on your feet like you haven't just tucked a grenade into his shirt. that teasing gleam in your eyes, daring, like you're so sure he won't do something. a baited hook, glaring and obvious, as if you don't care he's big enough to snap the line.

he exhales hard through his nose. "you're a pain in the arse."

you grin, wide and unrepentant, backing away with your hands in your apron. "you'll get over it. or not. but you'll call me first."

he watches you retreat through the door to the back, disappearing before he can think of anything clever to say. his mind wiped. instead, he stands there, stuck.

the barback clears his throat, breaking the silence with a nervous chuckle. "she got you, mate."

simon cuts him a look harsh enough to make the man flinch, but he doesn't say a word. he turns on his heel and strides out, letting the door slam against the brick.

later, in the quiet of his flat, he studies the note like it might combust. he twists the corner, staring hard at your name and number. been ages since he got one. longer since he called a bird up.

he doesn't care. shouldn't care. but you've got an attitude, quick and cutting. poking the bear, prodding the bull. testing to see how far he'll let you go. mouthy.

he wants to see what you can do with it.

[bi-writes]

mmm. being the final girl in ghost's slasher movie (dark!ghost x curvy!fem!reader, 18+)

his laughter shakes you to your core. you're cornered, in the very back bedroom under the bed, staring at the dull gaze of your roommate as she bleeds out on the floor.

she's gurgling. she coughs up mouthfuls of blood, and they trail down her neck like a spider web until it pools underneath her head, making the strands of her hair red and sticky. the slit across her throat sputters, and you watch as the white painted bones on the back of his gloves drips with the pretty crimson color. if it wasn't so cruel, if it wasn't blood, it might be artistic.

he takes a thumb and smears the blood over her skin. he draws shapes into her forehead and then both of her cheeks, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to stop from crying as she gasps, reaching up with a shaky hand, halfheartedly trying to push him off, but she's too weak.

he hums when he finishes, and your eyes well up with tears when he knocks her head to the side so she's facing you. he's written three words on her face, one word on her forehead, and then the rest on her cheeks, in her own blood.

I SEE YOU

you scream when he shifts, grabbing onto your ankles and yanking. you claw at the hardwood floor, trying desperately to get away from him, but it's no use. he has you, he found you.

no matter where you go, you've never been able to hide. no matter how far away you think you've gone, it never matters. no matter how long you go without hearing from him, it isn't a comfort, because that usually means the inevitable is coming.

he will never leave you alone. you will never get away. he will find you, he will have you, and every time you escape, it is always just him giving you the illusion of freedom, when in reality, he can have you as easily as he did before.

"givin' me a right headache, luvvie," he murmurs, flipping you over with not so much as a grunt and sitting on your hips. you squirm under him, but this behemoth of a man isn't something you can just push off of you. he's big and heavy, and with all his gear on, he must be thirty pounds heavier. you eye the gun strapped to his chest, but even at this distance, you know it won't matter.

ghost cannot die. that's how he got his fucking name. you've sunk a knife into his stomach before, you've shot him once, you've pushed him off of cliffs and down elevator shafts and watched him sink to the bottom of the fucking ocean, but he cannot die, he won't die, he will never leave me.

"fuck you," you spit, and he chuckles, pulling one of his throwing knives out of his boot and using it to pop the first button off the front of your shirt. it clatters somewhere in the bedroom, and ghost snarls when he sees the lace of your bra.

"expectin' someone?" he growls. "oi! look at me."

you glare up at him, tears sliding down your cheeks, and he uses the sharp edge to pop the rest of the buttons off, your shirt in tatters as it lays loose around your arms. he grunts as he sneaks it under where the cups meet, pulling upwards until he cuts the lace in half. you mewl when your tits bounce, falling free, and his pupils dilate.

"mmmm..." he pushes his mask up, leaning down, and you arch your back when he wraps his lips around one nipple and suckles. you reach up without thinking, your hands finding the back of his head and cradling it as he practically feeds on the fat of your breasts. "know how much you like tha'..."

you whine, and he lets go, pushing the front of his mask into your cheek, licking the skin. you scrunch your face, dirty fucking animal, and he mouths at your jaw.

"'f y'were just a good girl, wouldn't hafta do this," he taunts. you squirm when he lowers himself again, paying attention to the other breast and sucking it into his mouth. "y'make me do it, swee'eart. make me hurt sorry muppets...they're keepin' y'from me. and y'know tha' isn't allowed."

you cry out when he flips you over under him. he shoves your face into the floor, tangling his hand into your hair and yanking on it so that you're looking at your dead roommate, her eyes dull and lifeless as she lays there turning cold.

"look wot y'did," he growls. "look wot y'made me do."

she looks sort of pretty. she did annoy the shit out of you, you won't lie. she looks happier this way. quiet, relaxed, still. it's cathartic, to know that maybe this is what she was meant for. to die, that was her purpose. it makes a little sense.

"'m sorry," you whisper, and ghost loosens his grip on your hair. "'m sorry..."

he kisses the side of your neck, laughing a little.

"now y'r sorry," he says, amused. "y'r mine. when are y'going to learn tha'?"

you put your palms onto the floor, trying to turn over. he eases his weight up to let you, leaning down and putting both hands on either side of your head as he looks down at you. you meet his eyes, sniffling, and you shake your head.

"w-was scared."

"scared?" he tilts his head to the side, licking over his teeth. "scared of wot? would do anythin' for ya."

"i-i know," you sniffle. "just...n-never had anyone that...that would. i-i...i've never had anyone s-so good to me."

he grins, and you shiver a little, but not from fear.

"awww," he shakes his head. "y'r a bad liar, luv."

"i'm not lying--!"

he leans down, licking over your bottom lip, and you whimper.

"prove it," ghost rasps, and you blink up at him, swallowing hard. you push on his chest a little so he eases off of you, and you hook your thumbs into your jeans and shimmy them off. ghost watches carefully, his eyes flickering when you lay bare underneath him, and you bring your knees up before letting them fall. he licks his lips, his grin widening, and he meets your eyes when he sees what he likes. "bloody hell, y'r soaking the fuckin' floor, swee'eart."

you bite your lip, a little shy, and he grips your throat firmly before tugging you up to meet him. he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, stroking your sweaty hair and humming low.

"y'r gonna run again, aren't ya, baby?"

you nod, closing your eyes, and you let a soft moan slip out when he settles between your spread legs, pressing his pelvis to yours. you feel that familiar hardness, digging into your sex, and you can't help the grind of your hips, wanting to get closer, needing to have more of him. he might be the craziest motherfucker you have ever known, and it's a shame he fucks like a pornstar.

you open your eyes, reaching down, and he smiles wickedly when you unzip his pants, shoving them low until his cock is free. like he knew this would happen, he's been leaking into his boxers, and when you pull him out, the tip is red and wet.

you squeeze your thighs around his waist when he sinks into you, grunting when his thighs press to yours, burying himself deep. you cry, your back bowing sharply, and he smooths his gloved hand down your bare stomach, licking his lips when he trails streaks of blood down your soft skin.

"'s olright," ghost mutters, "quite like chasin' ya. makes y'r cunny taste better. makes y'so fuckin' tight, too, fuck--"

"yeah--" you gasp, and he smiles again, disgusting, filthy, murderous, terrifying.

"say it. say it, and maybe i'll forgive this lil' stunt, and maybe i'll let y'cum." your eyes roll back, and he grips your face tight. "oi! say it!"

"i'm yours! fuck--yes! i'm yours..."

[gtgbabie0]

{Tipsy lipstick kisses with your girlfriend Vi}

Rahhh gimmie her now!

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“Ya got such a cute nose baby.” You’re drunk, well not completely wasted but enough to make the world spin slightly and your mind feel all fuzzy— enough for you not to care that you were currently straddling Vi's lap littering her beautiful face with cherry-red kiss marks.

Vi didn’t have the heart to stop you, not that she wanted to. No, she absolutely relished in the attention you were showering her with. Besides, you looked so good, perched up on her strong thighs, admiring her through glassy, half-lidded eyes with your kiss—smudged lipstick—stained lips—her pretty girl.

“You’re gonna be fucked tomorrow angel,” Vi smirks, her rough hands rubbing against your thighs. It makes your skin tingle in a certain way that only she can make you feel and you can’t help but melt into her effortlessly.

“I don’t get hangovers.” You mutter oh so confidently, lying straight through your teeth, lips grazing along her jaw leaving a red smudge in their wake— the sight makes you go all giddy, which is only doubled by the alcohol in your system. It made you want to leave more… and so…

Your painted lips leave a series of fluttery kisses along her neck, your hands cupping her cheeks— squishing them together to force her lips out in a pout before you steal another kiss then another and three more and she can’t help but let out a small groan, chuckling in amusement at your drunken display of affection. The rouge colour of your lipstick smeared over her heart-shaped lips and a little across her chin… it’s all over her face really, but your eyes are only focused on her mouth. It’s a beautiful sight, marking her up. You’re proud of yourself.

“Mhm, I think you’re gonna be singing a different tune tomorrow morning pretty.” She says, hands smoothing along your back and your foggy mind zeros in on her biceps, the way the muscles move with her gentle movements— god you just wanted to…

“I’m gonna bite you...” You mutter suddenly, staring down at her arms as she lets out a low chuckle. “Yeah? Keep your chompers to yourself, please.” She replies, shifting her hips beneath you to sit more comfortably, watching with a smug grin at the way you bite your bottom lip… she couldn’t help herself.

“Viiiiolet. Don’t be mean.” The sound should be sin, the whine that sweetens up your already honeyed tone. “Mean?— how am I being mean, I’m just sittin’ here… you’re the one talking about biting me, baby.” She coos back, almost condescendingly and if you were any more sober you would’ve picked up on it.

Her intense gaze doesn’t break away from you as she watches you lean forwards, Your delicate fingers curling around her jaw, manicured nails lightly pressing into her cheek— causing her breath to hitch, payback. “You know exactly what you’re doing— I’ll bite you.” You playfully threaten, words coming out all slurred together as you press another sloppy kiss against her jaw leaving a shiny red print of the shape of your lips against her skin as your hands feel up her biceps, which she purposefully flexes beneath your palms.

“Sink those teeth into my arm and I’ll make you sleep on the couch.” She chuckles, squeezing your waist a little as your lips grace the corner of her mouth, with a comically dramatic pout— she’d be lying if she said the idea wasn’t piquing her interest slightly, she’d have a field day with you tomorrow.

You let out a small groan, mumbling on about how ‘unfair’ she was being by ‘hogging her juicy arms to herself’ with your face pressed into her shoulder. “Oh it’s definitely your bedtime, you’re completely wasted and m’covered in your lipstick.” She replies with a smirk, you can hear it in her tone. She was loving this.

“Good… keep it there, you’re allll mine.” You drawl, nuzzling impossibly closer into her neck with a small grumble— something incoherent she couldn’t even begin to decipher so instead she just settles for a soft, whispered— “Yeah, all yours baby.” In agreement.

You go silent for a moment, basking in the way her strong arms loop around you protectively— so warm and safe— and she thinks you might’ve fallen asleep if it wasn’t for the way your lips trail along the tattoo on the side of her neck. You were obsessed with it, along with her back, her arms, her thighs… honestly everything but she didn’t want to start you off by teasing you about it— god no, she wouldn’t never get you to go to sleep.

“You gonna let me get you ready for bed now angel?” Her gentle voice breaks through the silence, her fingers massaging the nape of your neck slowly as you nod against her shoulder with a small “m’kay.” Letting her carry you off into your shared bedroom where she'll gently wipe your makeup off and get you into something more comfortable before kissing your face until those pretty eyes of yours flutter close.

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[shy-writer-999]

Baking Christmas cookies with Sanji 🍪❤️

Summary: Sanji has the cutest idea for a Christmas cookie date. But what happens when he gets too carried away? ~900 words. CW: Smutty/spicy/nsfw since I mentioned he gets... excited... a couple times. Heavy makeout sesh & lots of hands. Pet names (e.g., angel), but no overtly gendered language.

Artwork by @hirakyun13~ (thank you so much for collabing with me!)

A pretty blonde chef with a holiday apron and a pan full of cookies stands in front of you and you can’t help but be distracted. He’s just too cute.

You can’t even pay attention to the pan of cookies because you’re lost in those pretty eyes, mesmerized by that pretty smile, pretty hair, swirly eyebrows, soft skin, sweet lips—“My love?” He snaps you out of the stupor you’re lost in. “My love, did you hear me? What color of icing do you think would look best on these?”

The present moment races back to you—you’re been making cookies with Sanji, Christmas cookies, no less. It’s a cute date idea he proposed to you.

You tell him the colors you have in mind for the icing. The baking tray is covered with two kinds of cookies—gingersnaps and sugar cookies in pretty shapes. They smell heavenly, and they’re going to taste even better (Sanji’s own recipe).

“Fantastic choices, beautiful.” Sanji responds and sets the pan on a cooling rack.

After a few more minutes, you’ve rolled out and shaped another tray full. They go in the oven and Sanji sets the kitchen timer—at least, he thinks he does. He’s too distracted by you, though. When his finger goes to press the ‘start’ button, he misses, but doesn’t realize it. So, the timer doesn’t actually start. You don’t notice, though.

“Now that we’ve got fifteen minutes, what should we do?” He smiles and sidles over to you, a whole two feet, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him.

“You’re looking pretty delicious, gorgeous.” He grins and blushes. He’s about to say something extremely corny. “Even more delicious than the cookies we’re making. I could just eat you up.”

His last few words are broken up by kisses that he peppers on every part of your face. His lips press onto your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your eyes, and your jaw. Eventually they land on your lips.

Through his smile, he kisses you delicately. You’d think he’s afraid of breaking you. You’ve told him countless times that you’re not made of glass, but no matter how many times you’ve told him, he doesn’t seem to listen.

He smells clean and barely musky, with an overtone (obviously) of cigarettes, coffee, and sugar (from the cookies). It’s a smell that only Sanji could have, a distinct and yummy one. It almost makes your mouth water.

His hands wander. They love to do that. From your waist, they inch downwards. For a few moments, for a few kisses, his hands stay perched on your hips. But then they pass lower and he bends with them. He scoops you up and you’ve got the position memorized. Sanji reaches under your thighs and you hop ever-so slightly.

You’ve memorized the routine—he picks you up and you wrap your legs around him.

Walking a couple of paces over to open counter space, Sanji places you there and your hands come to rest over his shoulders.

His kisses get sloppier. Greedier. Needier. His hands do the same. They snake down to your ass and he grabs rough handfuls. After kneading for a second, Sanji’s lips start to wander, too.

He leaves butterfly-style kisses across your neck, sucking softly for a moment before moving lower to the hollow of your throat, then the slope of your collar bone. He leaves a bite, and his hands inch to your chest.

You can tell that the gentle cook has forgotten that there are cookies in the oven that demand his attention.

As Sanji starts getting more worked up, you can also tell he’s getting hard. He’s so easily worked up like this that it’s endearing.

His hair shifts as he kisses you and his soft strands softly pass over the skin on your forehead. You can feel him slowly rutting his hips into you, and you squeeze him closer to you with your legs.

As his hands creep under the hem of your shirt and trail upwards, he freezes.

It smells like smoke. Like something is on fire.

Sanji’s head whips around to look at the oven and, sure enough, the cookies are burning, bad.

“Fuck!” he exclaims and practically jumps. After a second, he pulls himself together, trying not to be too jarring around you, but you know that if he was alone right now he’d be being a whole lot more dramatic.

Sanji pulls his hands off of you and goes to open the oven—a puff of smoke wafts out and he gets a face-full.

“It looks like the cookies are burnt, gorgeous. I guess I didn’t actually start the timer.”

He’s frowning in the cutest way possible, but it turns into a sweet smile after a second.

“How about we throw these ones away, and we let the first batch keep cooling while we go do something else?”

You nod in agreement to his proposition and hop down from the counter.

As Sanji does away with the burned up, blackened crisps that once were holiday cookies, you watch him attentively. Even the way he moves his hands is graceful and intentional, measured and deliberate.

He turns and gives you a smile when he realizes you’re observing him. “Like what you see, angel?”

When you turn bright red, he takes off his apron and puts it over your head.

“That’s more like it. Now let’s go be distracted together.”

thank u so much for reading and happy holidays!! another reminder that the lovely lovely @hirakyun13 did the art for this and please go check out here page!

here's my masterlist and the holiday event masterlist 🎄 xoxo

[gigi-loveless]

thank you @alternativess for the inspo 🎀𓂃 ࣪˖

reqs are open!!

summary: bimbo!reader x abby. abby starts play fighting with you and discovers you enjoy being restrained.

warnings: nsfw under the cut, use of consensual physical restraint in a sexual situation, my first abby fic!!

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“a-abs! stop-stop-stop!” the incessant tickling from your girlfriends sturdy, strong arms was taunting you. trying your best to fight back, you slap her arm sheepishly.

“oh, that’s how you wanna do this, huh?” she smirks playfully, throwing her braid off her shoulder and lunging into you, beginning to play wrestle.

you couldn’t lie, the wet spot in your frilly pink panties was growing increasingly hard to ignore, especially if her muscles kept flexing so tauntingly close to your doe-ish eyes….

regardless! you do your best to fight back just to please her, because you two both know you don’t stand a chance, and she thinks it’s adorable. when you playfully go to bite her bicep, her fighting instincts kick in….

and her beefy, swollen arm has you in an unyielding headlock.

fuck.

the pornographic whimper that erupted from you caused abby to loosen her grip, taking your jaw in her calloused fingers and guiding you up towards her sweat glistened face.

“got something you wanna tell me?”

you begin to shake your head no, but abby interrupts-

“if i take off those panties am i gonna find my girl wet?”

my girl.

well, if you weren’t wet already, she was definitely going to find you soaked now.

with one quick movement, she has you laid down on your back, your underwear in one hand, and another sliding into your folds. your mind goes completely blank, well, more than it already was, only craving abby’s vicious touch.

“oh…sweet girl….tell me. was it that headlock? don’t. lie.”

the desperate moans that are bubbling from your plump pink lips would be fucking embarrassing if you weren’t already so drunk on her touch, your hips hopelessly rutting into her resistant fingers.

“words, angel.”

“y-ye-y….yes!! yes abs!!”

the menacing chuckle she exhaled was enough to make you buckle, but you knew better. had to keep your eyes on abby.

“does my girl get off on being hurt? bein’ restrained?”

“m-mm-mhm!”

“remember our safe word?” she goes soft for a moment, and you nod in agreement. as soon as she gets confirmation, this girl just starts manhandling the fuck out of you. fingerprint shaped marks decorate your hips and ribs as she positions you in the headlock once again, her bicep throbbing against your ear.

“gonna make you cum, yeah baby? no tricks this time, swear. jus’cum fr’me angel….” she cooes, as her previously mocking fingers finally…finally….fill you up completely.

“abs!! a-abs!!!”

“does my girl love my muscles? hgnh- loves how my arms are bigger than her stupid slutty brain?”

“y-yes….ys’ abs! always!”

the pace she’s drilling into you at is relentless, slick drooling down her knuckles and your pillowy thighs. your cushiony walls are throbbing around her thick fingers, only persuading her to go harder, to tighten the death grip on your neck, little veins popping out.

“g-gna’-“ you moan nearly pathetically, abby immediately understanding before you even opened your mouth, because of course she does. this girl knows your body better than anyone, the patterned pulses of your pretty pussy swallowing up her fingers signaling your orgasm.

“go ahead, sweetheart. cum fr’ me.”

your vision nearly goes black as the grip around your neck tightens, and her fingers curl up into you. everything is fuzzy for a few moments, but abby’s comforting touch soothes your senses, effortlessly picking you up and tenderly placing you in her lap.

“come on, baby. gonna draw a bath for you, yeah?”

god, you love abby anderson.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

You Have Me » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky sees the marks your boyfriend gave you and assures you that you have him.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, language, abusive/toxic relationship (not Bucky), brief mention of blood, hair pulling (nonsexual), bruises, crying, best friends to lovers, kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

You don’t know why you’re staying with a man who beats you. You’re just too scared to do anything about it so you just take it. Now, you can’t. You’ve been thinking of ways of how to leave without your boyfriend noticing or knowing.

“Hey!” Kayden snaps his fingers in your face, making you jump. “I asked you a question, bitch.” He says.

“Wh-What was the question?” You asked with a stutter.

Kayden groans loudly before grabbing the collar of your shirt and pulled you closer to him, his nose touching yours.

“I asked you…” His voice was low. “When are you making dinner?” He asks. “Is your brain too stupid to comprehend that?” He asks.

“I-I’ll do it now.” You say.

“Good.” He lets go of your shirt. “Get me a beer while you’re at it.” He says.

Kayden walked past you, purposely bumping into you and making you stumble a little bit. As you were walking to the kitchen, he grabbed a handful of your hair, causing you to wince in pain and pulled you back towards him.

“Never make me repeat myself again.” Kayden says, his voice sounding threatening.

He let go of your hair and pushed you towards the kitchen. When you got in the kitchen, you leaned against the counter and took a deep breath, tears trying to escape your eyes.

As the night went on, Kayden continued to hurt you in every way he could think of. You had tears streaming down your face at this point.

“You’re such a fucking crybaby.” Kayden insults you. “I barely touched you.” He says.

His hand landed a harsh smack across your face, causing you to yelp in pain. He then grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him. You turned your head to the side to avoid eye contact with him. His free hand grasped your jaw tightly turning your head towards him so you were looking him in the eye.

“Crying won’t get you anywhere in life.” He says.

He let go of you and shoved you to the floor, your body making a thudding noise as you hit the floor. You hit your head when you got pushed down. You didn’t even realize you were still on the floor until hours later when Kayden was sleeping. You carefully and quietly stood up from the floor. You grabbed the bag you had already packed and managed to sneak out of the apartment without him knowing.

You drove across town to Bucky’s house. You repeated knocked on the door till he opened it. Bucky’s eyes went wide when he seen the bruises on you.

“Oh my god, doll.” Bucky stepped aside so you could walk inside of his house. “What happened?” He asks worriedly.

“Can I stay here please?” You asked quietly, bypassing his question.

“Of course you can.” He answers.

Bucky gently ushered you to the living room. You sat down on the couch, fiddling with your fingers. Bucky knows something is wrong when you play with your fingers. He gently grabbed your hands, but you pulled them away out of instinct. He grew more worried.

“May I?” He asks softly.

You nodded your head yes. Bucky put a piece of your hair behind your ear to get a good look at your face. A red hand print was visible on your cheek, finger shaped marks on your jaw, and a bruise on your forehead. His heart broke when he seen them.

“Who did this to you?” He asks.

You looked in his eyes. It didn’t take long for Bucky to realize that Kayden was the one who did this to you.

“Kayden did this to you, didn’t he?” He asks.

Your bottom lip quivered as you nodded your head yes. You leaned forward and laid your head on Bucky’s shoulder, crying your eyes out. Bucky pulled you onto his lap, holding you close to him as you cried. It broke Bucky’s heart to see you like this.

Bucky glanced down at your forearm, seeing a bruise there. That was enough to tell him that Kayden did that to you.

“It’s ok.” Bucky coos softly, rubbing your back. “You’re save with me.” He almost whisper.

“P-Promise?” You asked, sniffling and looking up at him with teary eyes.

“Promise.” He promises.

A smile grew on your face. You felt safe with Bucky. You know he’ll do anything to protect you.

You didn’t realize you fell asleep in Bucky’s arms until you woke up the next morning in his bed. You rubbed your eyes and sat up, looking around for Bucky, but he wasn’t in bed next to you or in his bedroom. It didn’t take you long to figure out that he was in the kitchen when the smell of coffee filled your nose. You got out of bed and went to the kitchen, sitting down on one of the chairs at the kitchen island.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Bucky smiles, handing you a cup of coffee.

“Morning, Bucky.” You smile back, taking a sip of coffee.

“How did you sleep?” He asks.

“Better than I did in a while.” You tell him.

“That’s good.” He smiles.

Bucky walks around the kitchen island to sit down next to you. You had your hands on the coffee cup, enjoying the warmth of the cup against your skin.

“Y/N, I want you to know you have me no matter what.” Bucky says.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You smile.

“You don’t have to thank me, doll. You’re my best friend and I’ll always have your back.” He says softly, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, making you smile.

There was a moment of silence. You and Bucky were gazing in each other’s eyes. You two began to lean in towards each other, but it got cut short when the sound of someone was pounding on the door, making you and Bucky jump. Bucky stood up to open the door. Kayden was on the other side of the door. He pushed past Bucky, looking for you.

“I didn’t say you can come in.” Bucky says to Kayden.

“I don’t give a fuck!” Kayden said. “I know she’s here.” He says.

The first place Kayden looked for you was the kitchen. Your eyes widened. You stood up from the chair to escape him, but you didn’t get far. Kayden grabbed a handful of your hair and slammed you against the wall, causing you to whimper in pain.

“I fucking knew you were here, bitch.” He says.

Bucky grabbed the back of Kayden’s neck with his vibranium hand and slammed his head against the counter. You turned around and stayed against the wall, watching what’s going on in front of you with wide eyes.

“Get off of me, man.” Kayden groans, struggling to get out of Bucky’s tight grip.

“What’re you gonna do? Beat me up next?” Bucky asks.

“So this is what it’s about.” Kayden chuckles. “She came crying to you cause she’s a little crybaby who can’t control her tears.” He says.

Bucky’s vibranium hand tightened its grip on the back of Kayden’s neck.

“Say another god damn word about her. I fucking dare you.” Bucky growls.

Kayden kept his mouth shut. Bucky lifted Kayden up and stood in front of you.

“Say what you need to say, doll.” Bucky says to you.

You stared at Kayden, not sure if you should say anything. That’s how scared you are of him.

“I don’t know why you’re trying. She doesn’t even know how to speak for herself.” Kayden laughed.

Kayden was caught by surprise when you punched him in the face, making his nose bleed.

“You bitch!” Kayden cries out in pain.

You walked closer to him, looking up at him.

“We’re over. I’m sick and tired of the way you treat me. I never want to see you or hear from you ever again.” You finally say.

“You’re bluffing.” Kayden laughs. “You won’t survive without me.” He says.

“I’m not bluffing and I can survive without you in my life.” You say.

“You don’t mean that.” He says.

“Yes I do.” You confirmed. “Bucky, get him out of here.” You say, looking at Bucky.

Bucky walked Kayden to the door and shoved him outside, making him fall to the ground. Bucky kneeled down by Kayden’s head.

“If I ever and I mean ever, see you near Y/N again, I won’t hesitate to snap every bone in your body like a twig.” Bucky tells him in a threatening tone. “Got it?” He asks.

“Y-Yes.” Kayden answers in a stutter.

“Now, get out of here before I change my mind and snap your bones right now.” Bucky says.

Kayden scrambled to stand up and ran to his car, speeding away. Bucky went back inside of his house, closing the door behind him. He immediately walked towards you and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him.

“Are you ok, doll?” He asks softly.

“I am now.” You answered.

———

6 months later, you feel better than ever. You’re out of the abusive and toxic relationship you were in. You managed to clear your mind. Also, you’re in a new relationship with a new guy and that guy happens to be your best friend James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky treats you like a woman should be treated. He makes you feel like you and loves you for who you are. He’s everything you want in a man. Funny, tall, handsome, blue eyes, very protective. The vibranium arm is an added bonus.

Bucky walks up behind you and wraps his strong arms around your waist while you’re cooking. He put his chin on the top of your head, watching you cook.

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” Bucky asks.

You couldn’t help but giggle when he said that.

“You’re so cheesy.” You say, tilting your head back against his chest to look up at him.

Bucky hums and gently turns your head to the side to kiss your lips sweetly. You pulled away from his lips momentarily to put the stove on low and turned around to kiss Bucky properly. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you two kissed. Bucky’s hands found their place on your waist.

“Thank you, baby.” You almost whispered.

“What’re you thank me for, babydoll?” He asks, rubbing his hands up and down your sides.

“For loving me.” You answered.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, doll.” He put a piece of your hair behind your ear. “I’ll love you no matter what.” He says softly.

You leaned up, kissing him passionately.

“I love you, babe.” You say softly.

“I love you too, doll.” He says in almost a whisper.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[jobean12-blog]

Rescue Ride

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,043

Summary: When you get stranded with your broken down car someone unexpected comes to your rescue.

Author's Note: Just because! Honestly, I'd go anywhere with him haha Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 😘

Warnings: It's fluffy and cute and sweet (other than the annoying car trouble haha)

The air grows cooler as night starts to fall. There’s an eerie silence that envelopes the quiet road. Your car, having made strange noises for the past few miles, begins to smoke, and finally gives up and sputters to a stop.

You steer it to the side of the road, your heart racing as the sky continues to deepen into a dark canvas. You scan the area, seeing nothing but the far-off mile markers and the long shadows they cast against the encroaching darkness.

Suddenly, the roar of a motorcycle engine pierces the stillness, growing louder with each passing second. Your stomach flips and your palms start to sweat.

You’re all alone out here and the chances of another car passing by any time soon are slim. You search your vehicle for something to defend yourself with…just in case.

Just over the horizon you can see the bike speeding closer. The rider flies by and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Now what? That may have been the only help you were going to get. If it was help at all.

You grab your phone and scroll through your contacts. Since moving here, you had only made a couple of friends and you really didn’t want to ask either of them to come out and rescue you in goodness knows where.

As you continue to contemplate your fate you miss the low rumble of the engine and when you look up to see the motorcycle slowing to a stop a few feet in front of your car you nearly jump out of the seat.

He’s tall, one long leg lifting easily over the seat until both booted feet are planted firmly on the ground.

Your eyes continue to travel upward.

His tight jeans accentuate the shape of his muscular calves and the thickness of his thighs. A worn leather jacket fits snugly across his broad shoulders and his large hands are free of gloves.

As he moves toward you it’s hard to make out more than this large frame, the setting sun highlighting only his silhouette. However, when he reaches your car window and leans down with a smile, you’re struck speechless.

Long and dark strands of hair frame his face and his sparkling blue eyes crinkle at the corners. His sharp jaw is covered with dark stubble with patches of gray peppered throughout and surrounding a pair of very kissable lips.

“You ok doll?” he asks.

When you don’t answer he leans back to give you more space. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

You shake your head and open your mouth, still staring.

He smiles again.

“It’s ok. I’m ok,” you breathe out.

“Is your car, ok?” he asks.

“My car?”

He gently taps your car above the window.

“OH! Um, well no. I think it’s dead.”

Finally pulling his gaze from you he looks at the small puffs of smoke coming from the hood.

“Want me to take a look?”

“Really?” you ask. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he says as he walks around to the front.

You open your door and get out, standing to the side to watch.

He opens the hood and peers inside, blowing smoke away from his face.

After only a few moments of assessment he says, “looks like you’ve got an antifreeze leak coming from one of your hose clamps.”

“Is that what it is?” you muse, trying to sound like you know what’s going on.

“I can fix it enough for you to get to the nearest station.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “I can’t have you do that! I’ll just call someone.”

He starts walking to his bike.

“And then you’ll have to pay towing fees. Not necessary doll. Lemme help you out.”

He opens the saddle bag and removes the toolbox. As he does so you notice a small lump in his jacket and when it starts to move you let out a squeak of surprise.

“Oh right,” he chuckles.

He slowly and carefully unzips the leather and reveals a small white ball of fluff.

“This is Alpine,” he explains as the cat uncurls itself against his chest.

Your eyes widen. “Oh my gosh! He’s SO CUTE!”

“Here,” he says. “You can hold him while I check out your car.”

He picks the cat up with one hand and holds him out for you to take. You gently grab him and cuddle him to your chest, cooing softly and scratching his head.

“He’s such a sweetie!”

“I found him about a month ago. Abandoned at a truck stop.”

The shock and disgust are evident in your expression and Bucky agrees with, “I know. Unbelievable right? Thankfully, he loves rides on the bike!”

He gives Alpine a soft pat and then gestures toward your car with his chin.

“Come on,” he says, “let’s take a look.”

You follow, standing closer to get a better look at him and you can see he’s even more gorgeous than you thought.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

After you introduce yourself, you watch him bend over the hood and grab a bandana from his back pocket.

He uses a wrench to loosen a steaming clamp and then grabs the hose with the bandana.

“It can get pretty hot,” he explains.

When he pulls the hose free you can see the leak and watch with relief as he easily contains it with a quick fix.

“This will hold long enough for you to get it somewhere and get it fixed.”

“I can’t thank you enough Bucky.”

He drops the wrench back in his toolbox and stuffs the bandana back into his pocket, all the while studying your face with soft eyes.

“Tell ya what doll face,” he starts. “I’ll follow you to the nearest repair shop to make sure you get there safely and then while you wait for your car to get fixed I'll take you out for a bite to eat.”

“On your bike?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a smirk. “Ever ridden before?”

You shake your head no.

His lopsided grin grows, and he leans in a little closer.

“Lookin’ forward to being your first, doll.”

@randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @kmc1989 @hiddles-rose

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

trouble, m | jjk

... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic

--

“Oh, I’m in trouble.”

Panic coursed throughout his veins.

“I can’t be here.”

And maybe a little bit of arousal too.

“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”

He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.

Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.

Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.

Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.

Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.

Like he said, he was in trouble.

Tomorrow.

The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.

I hope your friends ask about me.

The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.

The devil was in the details.

“Hello? Did you space out again?”

Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”

Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”

“R… Right.”

He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”

Jungkook choked.

-

That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.

Mind a billion thoughts a minute.

You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.

Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.

Or more savagely.

You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.

Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?

Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.

“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.

You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.

Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.

Hah.

You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.

Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.

You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.

You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.

Thanks, brain.

Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.

Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.

Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.

If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.

Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.

Hah, what a bother.

You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.

Yup.

Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.

The looking glass showed you two ways.

You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.

Hmmmm.

Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.

What the–

You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.

At goddamn McDonald’s?

Is no place sacred?

It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.

-

Your fingers framing your face.

You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.

Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.

Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.

“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”

What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.

You envied their desire for silence.

Because you had to be loud.

You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.

“P-Please…”

His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.

“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”

You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.

-

This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.

Actually.

That sounded very dramatic.

And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.

Cut out all that risky business.

It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.

Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.

But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.

She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.

He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.

Holy fuck.

Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.

Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?

And, four.

Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.

He had to cover his ass.

Speaking of.

Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.

Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.

She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.

He gasped and screamed under his breath.

The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.

She swallowed.

Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.

“C… Careful…. P-Please…”

Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.

He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.

He did not.

I’m in trouble.

He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?

Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.

“Ready?” she hummed.

“Y- Yeah…”

In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.

Jungkook didn’t even care.

He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.

“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”

He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.

“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”

She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.

He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.

Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.

Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.

He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.

“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”

She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”

His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.

“I… I usually last longer…”

“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”

Her sex saved his life.

Her next words murdered him on the spot.

“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”

Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.

-

You could admit it.

You shouldn’t have said that.

But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.

Right?

Wrong.

You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.

Aw, shit.

You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.

Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.

You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.

“Gah!”

“Oh!”

And he grabbed your waist.

Of course, he did.

Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.

You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.

“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”

You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.

Didn’t want to know.

Better not to know.

“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.

“You’re not in my way.”

You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.

“Actually… Please be in my way.”

You froze.

Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.

Oh, I’m in trouble.

He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.

You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.

“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.

An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.

“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.

You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.

No.

This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.

“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”

Jimin was stifling his giggles.

You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.

“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”

Oh no.

“Stay right there!”

Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”

But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.

“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.

You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”

Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.

Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.

“Uh…”

You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”

“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m the same.”

Your knee touched his.

He looked at you.

Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.

“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”

“What?”

You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.

“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”

People only get into relationships for shitty sex.

Right?

I want to be around him.

“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”

You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.

Close enough for you to remember.

“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”

“Yeah, give me your number.”

-

She asked for it like it was easy.

Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.

“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”

“Wait, give me your number.”

She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.

“I want it,” he breathed.

Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.

Like she was trying to hold back.

“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”

“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.

“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.

-

What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.

Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.

They don’t like you.

You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.

You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.

Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.

Jungkook wanted you.

That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.

He was just waiting for you to start it off.

You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.

I’m in so much trouble, fuck.

You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.

You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

What is this?

You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.

“I c-can’t…”

His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.

“Can’t t-take it anymore…”

Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.

You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.

He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.

He’s too desperate to be a liar.

You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.

I want you.

He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.

“I w-want you…”

He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.

You saw what Jungkook was saying.

He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.

You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…

Until.

“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.

Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.

How could you refuse him?

You just couldn’t.

-

I’m so fucked.

Truly, madly, deeply fucked.

Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.

“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.

Harder?!

Was she trying to kill him?

She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.

He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.

He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.

He let his eyes flicker up.

Gasping, baring his depravity.

She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.

“Cum on me, Jungkook.”

Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.

Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.

Her cum and her perfume.

He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.

Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”

Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.

No, know that she really meant what she said.

His heart fluttered. Took flight.

No.

Soared.

They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.

He was sure.

--

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