#it looks so thick and healthy and i want to run my fingers through it 😭

[sleepygetou]

you can kiss his forehead now~

[misswynters]

Father of the realm

Cregan Stark x Wife!reader

[synopsis: You are pregnant with a babygirl, or that’s what your husband keeps saying. He truly wishes it’s a girl.

[a/n: yet another cregan fic since i can’t get enough of him.

[note | pls don’t just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

Winterfell's ancient halls echoed with the sound of crackling fires and the gentle hum of activity. Outside, the snow fell softly, blanketing the courtyard in a serene layer of white. Inside, however, a different warmth filled the air. It was a warmth born of love, care, and anticipation.

You sat in your chambers, a soft, knitted blanket draped over your legs, the flickering fire casting a golden glow across the room. Your hands rested on your swollen belly, feeling the gentle movements of the life growing within you. Each flutter and kick was a reminder of the miracle you carried, and with each one, your heart swelled with love.

Cregan entered the room quietly, his footsteps almost silent on the stone floor. His eyes softened as he saw you, a tender smile playing on his lips. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice a soothing balm.

You smiled back at him, the sight of his concern warming your heart. "I'm well, Cregan. Just a bit tired."

He knelt beside you, his large hands gently cupping your belly. "Is she moving much today?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

You laughed softly, placing your hand over his. "Yes, she's been quite active. She seems to love it when I'm near the fire."

Cregan's smile widened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your belly. "She's already got a mind of her own," he said, his voice filled with affection. "Just like her mother."

You reached out, running your fingers through his dark hair. "You really think it's a girl, don't you?"

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with certainty. "I know it is. I can feel it in my bones. Our little girl."

The joy in his voice was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter with happiness. "I hope you're right," you said softly. "But boy or girl, as long as they're healthy, that's all that matters."

Cregan nodded, his expression growing serious for a moment. "You're right, of course. But I can't help but dream of holding our daughter, of teaching her about the North, of watching her grow into a strong, brave woman like her mother."

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, the depth of his love and dreams for your child touching you deeply. "She'll be so lucky to have you as her father," you whispered.

"And she'll be even luckier to have you as her mother," he replied, his voice filled with conviction. He stood up, gently helping you to your feet. "Come, let's sit by the fire. It's warmer there."

As you settled into the comfortable chair by the hearth, Cregan wrapped a thick, warm blanket around your shoulders. He sat beside you, his hand never leaving yours. "You must tell me if you're uncomfortable, or if you need anything," he said, his brow furrowed with concern.

You squeezed his hand, reassuring him. "I will, Cregan. You've been so wonderful, so attentive. I don't know what I would do without you."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You'll never have to find out. I'm here, always."

The weeks passed, each day bringing you closer to the moment you would meet your child. Cregan's excitement grew with each passing day, his dreams of a daughter filling your conversations. He was constantly by your side, ensuring your comfort, worrying over every little thing.

One evening, as you lay in bed, the baby kicked particularly hard, making you wince. Cregan was immediately at your side, his face filled with worry. "Are you alright? Is the baby okay?"

You smiled, placing his hand where you felt the movement. "She's just making her presence known," you said with a laugh. "She must take after her father."

Cregan's eyes softened as he felt the strong kick. "She's a fighter," he said proudly. He gently rubbed your belly, his touch soothing. "Rest, my love. I'll stay here with you."

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt the warmth of his hand on your belly, his protective presence a constant comfort.

The day finally came when the midwife announced that it was time. Cregan was a bundle of nerves, his concern and excitement palpable. He stayed by your side through every contraction, his hand holding yours, his words of encouragement soothing your fears.

When the cries of your newborn filled the room, Cregan's eyes filled with tears. The midwife placed the baby in his arms, and he looked down at the tiny face, his expression one of pure love and awe. "It's a girl," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "Our little girl."

You reached out, touching the soft cheek of your daughter, tears streaming down your face. "She's perfect," you said, your heart overflowing with love.

Cregan placed the baby in your arms, his eyes never leaving yours. "You did it," he said, his voice filled with pride. "You brought her into this world. Our beautiful daughter."

As you held your baby girl, feeling the warmth and weight of her in your arms, you knew that your life had changed forever. The love you and Cregan shared had brought her into the world, and together, you would give her all the love and care she deserved.

Cregan sat beside you, his arm around your shoulders, his eyes shining with tears of joy. "Welcome to the world, little one," he whispered. "We're going to take care of you, and love you, forever."

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the love of your husband, you felt a peace and happiness unlike any other. Your family was complete, and you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, united by the unbreakable bond of love.

As winter melted into spring, the walls of Winterfell became a lively home filled with the sounds of new life. Your daughter, Lyanna, now a few months old, had quickly become the heart of the castle. Her bright blue eyes and soft giggles enchanted everyone who met her, but no one was more captivated than her father.

Cregan, the once gruff and imposing Lord of Winterfell, had transformed into a doting and protective father. He took Lyanna with him everywhere, carrying her in a specially crafted sling so she could stay close to his heart. The sight of the formidable Stark lord cradling his tiny daughter became a common one, and the people of Winterfell couldn't help but smile at the tender displays of affection.

One morning, as the sun cast its first light over the ancient walls, Cregan gently lifted Lyanna from her crib. She yawned and stretched, her tiny fists rubbing her eyes. "Good morning, my little princess," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Ready to greet the day?"

Lyanna cooed in response, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. Cregan chuckled and secured her in the sling, making sure she was comfortable before heading out to start his day. You watched them from the bed, your heart swelling with love at the sight of your husband and daughter.

Cregan was true to his promise of taking her everywhere. Whether it was inspecting the walls, overseeing the training in the courtyard, or attending to matters in the great hall, Lyanna was always by his side. The castle's inhabitants quickly learned that the quickest way to their lord's favor was through a kind word or gentle gesture towards his beloved daughter.

The following day, as Cregan walked through the bustling courtyard with Lyanna nestled against his chest, he overheard a servant muttering something unkind about your family. His eyes darkened, and he turned to face the man, his voice a low growl. "If I hear another word of disrespect, I will see to it that you regret it. Do I make myself clear?"

The servant paled and stammered an apology, quickly scurrying away. Cregan's protective nature was legendary, and no one dared to cross him, especially where his wife and daughter were concerned.

As his beloved daughter grew, Cregan's bond with Lyanna followed suit. He spoiled her with gifts—beautifully crafted toys, soft blankets, and tiny dresses that made her look like a princess. But more than the material things, it was his unwavering presence and love that made Lyanna's world so full of joy.

The following afternoon, as you sat in the gardens with Lyanna on your lap, Cregan joined you, carrying a small, intricately carved wooden wolf. "Look what I have for you, little one," he said, his voice filled with excitement. He handed the toy to Lyanna, who grasped it with chubby fingers and examined it with wide-eyed wonder.

You smiled at the sight, your heart full. "You spoil her, Cregan. She'll grow up thinking the world revolves around her."

He knelt beside you, his eyes softening. "She deserves to know how much she is loved. Both of you do."

As the seasons changed, Cregan's protectiveness extended to ensuring your well-being as well. He insisted on walking with you whenever you went outside, his arm always ready to support you. He worried if you spent too much time on your feet and made sure you had everything you needed to stay comfortable and happy.

As you sat together in your chambers, Lyanna asleep in her crib, Cregan pulled you into his arms. "You and Lyanna are my everything," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I would do anything to keep you both safe and happy."

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "We are so lucky to have you, Cregan. I couldn't imagine a better father and husband."

He pressed a kiss to your hair, holding you close. "And I couldn't imagine a life without you both. You are my heart, my reason for everything."

As the months turned into years, the bond between you, Cregan, and Lyanna only grew stronger. Winterfell thrived under Cregan's leadership, and the people respected and admired the love and dedication he showed to his family. Lyanna grew up surrounded by the warmth and strength of her parents' love, knowing she was cherished beyond measure.

On a hot summer day when the sun was blazing hot, all you saw was joy as you watched Cregan and your daughter playing in the courtyard, your heart swelling with happiness. The sight of your husband chasing your giggling daughter, his laughter echoing through the air, was a testament to the life you had built together.

The sight of your husband chasing your giggling daughter, his laughter echoing through the air, was a testament to the life you had built together.

Cregan caught Lyanna and lifted her into the air, her delighted squeals filling the courtyard. "Got you, my little wolf," he said, spinning her around. He brought her close, kissing her cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

You joined them, the three of you basking in the warmth of the summer sun and the love that bound you together. "Our family," you said softly, looking at Cregan and Lyanna with pride. "Our beautiful family."

Cregan smiled, his eyes filled with the same love and devotion that had carried you through the challenges and joys of life. In the heart of Winterfell, amidst the ancient walls and the timeless snow, your love story continued to unfold. It was a story of strength, honor, and unbreakable bonds—a story that would be told for generations to come.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @travelingmypassion @shoxji @thornsandtulips @spn-obession

[gurugirl]

Says Who? | demonrry

Summary: Y/n goes to an underground club and meets the devil and she'll never ever forget it.

A/N: Something filthy and fun for Halloween! Not really scary, mostly just a smutty thing!

Word Count: 3.1k

Warning: smut, filth, spitting, major MAJOR size kink, creampie, unprotected public sex, Harry's a demon (or maybe he's just a dick - you choose)

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

Y/n could feel the base vibrating through to her marrow. The whole club was alive, a sticky hot sea of sweaty, dancing bodies, strobing lights, god-awful costumes.

She was less concerned about her white angel wings getting dirtied than she was about her drink getting something tossed into it. Some of the people making eye contact with her were… she didn’t know, but perhaps she’d keep her distance.

Though, as she looked down into her plastic cup, she realized it was all but pink melted ice. If she wanted something to worry about (other than her delicate white wings) she’d need a refill.

She figured she put a little too much effort into her costume. Her angel wings were made of real feathers and lace, lined with ribbing to make them look real, and her gauzy smock dress left little to the imagination for what she wore under. Of course, she doused herself in a healthy amount of soft shimmer and glitter and attempted to do the perfect winged liner –it wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty damn near close.

She'd gone alone to the club. A maybe not-so-smart move in retrospect, but still. She was there and she wanted to do something she'd never done before. Something outside of her comfort zone. Maybe even a little dangerous for once in her life.

The bar was packed with bodies, all lined up for a drink. Y/n waved her arm in the air, hoping to get the attention of the lone bartender. The poor guy was running his ass off and she could see sweat stains under his arms. It was rather stifling in the building.

Suddenly a very warm hand was pressed into her back, hot palm burning through the thin fabric of her dress down to her skin, “You don’t need another drink, Y/n.”

Turning to her right she saw a man with an imposing stature standing over her, his massive mitt cradling his own cup as he looked down at her, green irises practically glowing.

“Says who? I’ve only had one anyway. And how do you know my name?”

The grin that stretched over his face caught her off guard. He was handsome. She let her eyes wander from his broad shoulders up his neck and to the top of his head. He had thick dark waves with small pointed horns sticking out of the top just so. They looked real. The devil. How fitting a costume for a man who looked like that.

“Your name is printed on your cup,” he pointed. Y/n had forgotten that everyone was given a cup upon entry, their name scrawled across the smooth plastic, and told not to lose it. It was one of those underground club events and the cup was like your ticket to get in once you'd passed the initial pay-to-enter area.

She laughed and smiled, “Oh, I forgot,” she looked down at his cup again, noticing large rings adorning his thick fingers, “Harry.”

“What’s an angel doing in a place like this anyway?”

Another laugh puffed from behind her lips before she used her tongue to wet her parched mouth, “It’s a club. I don’t know. Saw an ad and it sounded fun. Why? Should I be worried?” Y/n bit her lip for effect. She wasn’t worried. But she did like this man’s vibe. He was flirty without being overt, his warm hand still sprawled along her back, face dangerously close.

“You should be worried. This is not a safe place, Y/n,” an evil smile worked its way over his features. He was teasing. Or maybe he wasn't.

She shrugged and looked up at him through her lashes before releasing her bottom lip, “But you’re here,” she looked back over her shoulder at the wild crowd behind them, “You gonna keep me safe from all the bad guys?”

“Is the angel asking the devil to watch over her tonight?” His grin grew lopsided, a dimple digging into his skin. God, he was attractive.

“Maybe. But you won’t let me get another drink so I don’t know…”

His eyes scraped over her face and down to her angel outfit, auditing, before he pushed into her back, moving her toward him closer. She watched him sit his cup down on the syrup-smeared bartop before his hand found her jaw, fingers digging into the soft part under her mandible, “Oh you’re parched, are you? Open up for me, angel.”

She felt her body swell and seethe in heat from his bold ask. But what else was she there for that night but to have a little fun with a stranger? So she parted her lips, slowly opening wider as he dipped over her frame and tilted her neck back until she felt the warm glob of saliva land on the tip of her tongue. She let out a pathetic moan when he licked over her lips, his spit moistening the dry skin like he was making sure she knew whose spit was sliding down her throat.

“Did you swallow for me?” He asked cooly as he kept her jaw in his hand.

Knocking her head up and down she kept her eyes on his and then suddenly she was being pulled away from the bar. He had an arm tucked around her waist, keeping her next to his warm frame until they’d moved into the shadowy edges of the club and he prodded her into a small space between a column and a metal air duct before he was pushing his hips and mouth against hers.

He tasted like autumn outdoors, hay, spit, burning leaves… Running her fingers into his hair she felt his hand on her hip, bunching at the sheer fabric until he was reaching into the thin wispy lace of the top of her white panties, palm gliding down her belly button until the pads of his fingers were pressed in a place she would normally never let a stranger touch. Especially not in public.

But it was Halloween, and this was what she’d been looking for. Something a little dangerous, a little crazy. This was the kind of place where one could get away with such iniquities.

Soon, the only thirst that remained was to feel more of him. To feel his hands, his fingers… He smoothed his tongue against hers as his middle finger rubbed tightly over her exposed clit after he'd torn the delicate fabric of her underwear. She was throbbing against him. Wetting his digits slowly until it was slippery and he could easily slide one and then two inside of her cunt.

“Love when I make angels wet. You’re just a good girl but this is exactly what you were looking for, wasn't it?”

She moaned and yanked his hair, hoping he’d put his lips back against hers. She loved his mouth, loved how he kissed her all dirty and raw.

“Yes…” She blinked up at him and then gasped when he shoved a third fat finger inside of her hole. It made her wobble forward into him, her cheek pressed into his solid chest. He fucked her just like that, on his fingers as he kept whispering into her ear, “Gonna change your life tonight angel. Show you what it feels like to really get off.”

Her mouth was wide open as he slid his fingers so deep she was certain nothing had ever gone in like that before. Not even Donny’s hard prick felt like that (what a disappointment he had been).

“Can’t even stand up straight and that’s just my fingers in there little girl. What are you gonna do when it’s my cock splitting you in half, hm?”

She groaned as he continued pumping his fingers through her gummy insides and she gripped onto his biceps so she didn't simply wither to the floor.

Y/n didn’t want anyone to see what was happening but it felt so good and she was so close. Already. The heel of his palm was bumping, sliding into her clit with every thrust of his wrist and she swore he was fucking into her to the beat of the bassy electronic music.

Her head began to spin and her ears were ringing, muffling the noise of the crowd and the music when she felt the delicious release of her orgasm.

Harry pushed her back into the wall quickly when he felt her shaking and with his free hand he held her face, smushing her cheeks with his thumb at one side and his pointer finger on the other, “Look at me when you come. Your orgasm belongs to me. Fuck that’s so pretty…”

She was stunned. It felt so good. Her body was writhing and being pushed and pulled at the hulking man’s direction. He guided her through it, plunging his fingers inside of her and dragging them over her slick spongy spot at the front of her wall. It was like he’d found a hidden switch within her insides and turned it on for her.

“You gonna keep being a good girl for me? Let me claim you and fuck an orgasm out of you on my cock this time? Want that, angel?”

Y/n’s rationale had gone out the window the moment he spit into her mouth and licked over her lips at the bar. So she nodded as he pulled his fingers from her cunt and brought all three, slimy, coated in her arousal, up to her lips, “Open up that thirsty little mouth. Suck.”

She wrapped her lips around his fingers and he pushed them past her comfortable gag spot as he made haste with his other hand, undoing his pants before pulling out his dick.

Harry removed his hand from her mouth and pulled at her neck, "Take a look. Think it'll feel nice and snug inside that tiny little angel pussy?"

Y/n shifted her eyes down to the hot engorged dick the man had brushing against her, his tip wide and ruddy against her labia. She inhaled, looking up at the man and then back down at the size of him, "It's… I don't know… It's so…" She bucked into him, feeling unsteady, her thighs still shaking.

"At least twice as big as what you've played with before. I know. But you get used to it. Come to love it. The way it plugs in so deep, carves into your insides, and makes a nice wet home… No one ever forgets it."

She clutched his forearm with a shaky hand and used her other to reach down and touch him. He was hot. So much warmer than she expected. Peering around his broad shoulders she could see people grinding and doing ungodly things on the dancefloor already. There were no rules in that club, except to not lose the cup you were handed when you paid to enter, and she'd already lost that at the bar somewhere.

When she felt him grip tight the meat of her thigh and perch it over his hip he slid his cockhead to her dripping seam and began to dip in.

"Oohh…" she warbled out a moan and then looked up at his handsome face, "Mmm…"

"Open that pretty mouth, show me your tongue."

She did what he said, parting her lips as her pussy spread open little by little. The feel of him slowly pushing into her was sticky, gooey, sharp. But the warm spit that dripped onto her tongue was salacious, made her pussy throb and flutter around his girth.

"There we go. Get that pussy spread apart for me. Let me have you, angel."

She was already letting him have her. She was his… whatever he wanted, however he wanted it. Right in front of everyone… sloppy, wet, deranged, disgusting…

"Mm ahhh…" she panted, her brows pushed together as he rutted in and in, filling up every bit of empty space she had available. Split open, stuffed full, slippery hot debauchery.

Harry threw his head back for a moment, basking in the tight pussy wrapped around him. Sopping. It was his chance to feel a bit of heaven.

Reaching down for her other thigh, he pushed her up and lifted her, making her wrap her legs around his waist so he could work into her deeper, really give her a taste of what the devil could do.

She yelped and gurgled wetly, eyes bulging as he buried himself in, "Fuck…"

"Yeah? Didn't know angels liked to say such words." He swiveled his hips, a harsh plunge in again, and the squelch of her pussy against his length meant she was as wet as she could possibly be. "Oh you're soaked, angel. No wonder you're so thirsty. All your juices are down here," He rocked up into her and she cried out, "So you can take me properly."

While no one much cared about the angel with her wings pressed into the wall, her legs wrapped around the devil's waist as he stuffed her pussy with his big cock, it was obvious what was going on in that dark little corner every time the strobe flashed over the pair copulating. If the look on her pretty face didn't give it away, all fucked out, wet lips parted, eyes rolling back into her head… it was the way the devil was rocking his hips sharply against her, making her legs shake with every thrust.

He knew he was hollowing her out, poking in beyond what was comfortable for her… he knew she'd never forget the way he felt inside of her. It'd stick with her forever and she'd never be able to come again without thinking about the devil.

She'd masturbate thinking about that night at the club and she'd release with the image of him inside of her. And any poor man who stuck his rinky dinky human dick into her pussy would never get her off –she'd be thinking of Harry, the demon with the biggest cock she'd ever had. That would be the only way she'd ever be able to come. A curse, but also a blessing because now she'd always be able to get off to the memory of him no matter who was fucking her. Everyone else would pale in comparison… but that's what he loved so much about fucking sweet human girls. They never forgot his big cock and he owned them in a way. At least he owned their orgasms.

Slushy, gloopy, splatting… his long dick dragged and kissed against her sweetest spot and she felt the tingle and the ache of it as she bounced with every drive of his hips.

"Give me that come, angel. Right on my cock."

She inhaled sharply as he laved his tongue over her lips, slicking his saliva over her mouth and spitting onto her tongue again, "Mine. It's all mine, isn't it? Cunt will never feel it like this again but she'll remember who owns her won't she?"

Y/n was simply done for… her body was putty, molten liquid, dripping, bowing to his whim. His cock would be forever imprinted within her womb as she felt him slide through her channel, thick and throbbing - it was as if she could feel his bulbous cockhead pushing into her tummy, bulging at the front. Microscopic tears around her gaping, wet, stretched muscle she'd need to tend to later. All worth it to be fucked like that.

Her eyes were bleary as she looked at him when she began to come. He was right and she knew it. Her body would never forget it. She was ruined for him already as her vocal cords hitched up an octave and she made his favorite noise. Every dip of his broad crown through her gushing walls smeared his leaking slit against her cervix.

Harry watched the angel fall apart around his cock, face crumpled, body reveling in her release, toes curled in her shoes, but when she moaned his name and gazed into his eyes with droopy lids he couldn't hold back the way she was milking around him. He slammed into her, one brutal thrust, cock burrowing in as he splattered and pumped into her. His warm spend, a mucusy mural for her tight little wet walls. Like his signature left behind so anyone else who entered would know he'd been there. That everything inside of her cunt belonged to him because he'd already claimed it…

She'd think about all that later. That she'd had unprotected sex with a stranger at a club. That he'd filled her with his sperm and spit into her mouth. She'd get tested and watch for her period and then get tested again. And when she turned out clean and not pregnant part of her would be disappointed that she didn't have some excuse to search for the man to let him know what he'd done so she could do it all over again with him. Get her brains fucked out and her little pussy stretched in a way that shouldn't have been as good as it was.

But she wouldn't regret that part. Her only rue that night would be that she hadn't gotten his last name or maybe a number. It was probably better to not know who he was, though. Because if she did she'd obsess. She'd fiend. She'd pine. She'd stalk. She'd make a fool of herself to just have another taste. And a guy like him would probably already be onto the next.

It was better to not know who he was because he wasn't really nice. When he was finished with her, when his come was fucked into her and he made her watch how he shoved it all back in with his huge cock, gripped her neck, and made her look at the way it dripped from her puffy, used pussy and how he took his dick and pressed it back into her stinging hole and told her to not to clean herself up –he left. He dropped her down to her feet, tucked his big cock back into his pants, patted her hot little cheek, and walked off without even turning back to look or check on her.

She watched him disappear into the crowd with her torn panties at her hips and his come dripping down the inside of her legs, chest heaving, heart thrashing in her chest… Her back and her legs and her pussy ached but she'd have him again if he just came back. So, it was better to not know.

It was better to not know because maybe he actually was the devil.

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

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[bucks-babe]

How Can I Forget You?

Follow my sideblog @bucks-babesideblog for updates on when I post

Pairing: Bucky x reader x Steve, Stucky x reader, Stucky

Summary: I literally don’t know how to summarize this. 40’s Bucky and Steve go to war, then you know what happens to them, Ladybird is left in the 40’s. Steve and Bucky are in the future. Will they get their Ladybird back?

Warnings: Angst (a lot of it), fluff, poly relationship, pre serum Steve, 40’s Bucky and Steve, 21st century!Bucky and Steve, some gay sex because it was getting too sad (anal fingering, anal, grinding naked), Peggy was never with Steve, implied suicide by alcohol, death of the reader in the 40’s, pet names (darling, ladybird, dumpling), crying, Jewish!Bucky, nostalgia, time jumps, happy ending because who do you think I am, I am not paying for anyone's therapy just so you know

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: There is no mention of the reader's body type nor race. Part of this fic does take place in the 40's, but I wanted to have a blank reader so that readers from any race can imagine themselves as Ladybird. There is no mention of period related homophobia because this shit was already too damn sad. If I missed any warnings, please let me know becuase I know that this fic is angsty and I want to make sure that everyone knows what they are getting into. Thanks to @buckys-wintersoldier for sacrificing her mental health for this fic 🤘

“Stevie, have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?” Steve blushes and hides his face in Bucky’s chest, breathing in his woodsy scent. “Don’t hide from me, punk, can’t see those pretty eyes anymore.” Running his fingers through Steve’s soft hair and trailing his hand down to the back of the smaller man’s neck, he gently brings his head back up, appreciating the soft, pink glow on his lover’s cheeks.

“Buck,” Steve trails off, not able to form a complete sentence when Bucky is looking at him like this - like he is gorgeous and not scrawny or undesirable. He doesn’t fight when Bucky brings their lips together, moaning at the taste of Bucky’s last cigarette. His eyes flutter as they pull away, both of their pupils blown, lips swollen and cheeks red. “You know, smoking is bad for you.”

Bucky grabs Steve and lays down on the couch, Steve resting between his legs. “I’m going to live until I’m 100, Stevie, smoking or not. You, my dear, are the one we need to worry about.”

“Like hell, you’re going to live that long with those habits. I’m healthy, it’s the doctors that keep telling me I’m not fit to join the army.” Bucky sighs. No matter how much he tries to stop Steve from enlisting, it never works. Not even their Ladybird can convince him.

“Stevie, please. I don’t want to hear anymore talk about this. Not today.” It’s their Ladybird that speaks, voice thick with emotion, yet stern. Neither of her boys would disobey her. She sets the tray with their sandwiches down and quickly leaves the room, palms frantically trying to smooth her dress down, pressing wrinkles that don’t exist.

Today was the day that Bucky had to leave. He didn’t enlist, not when his Ladybird wanted him at home, safe with her and Steve. She was terrified that he wouldn’t come home, leaving her and Steve behind.

But Steve was more stubborn than his man, not accepting staying at home when the men of his country are risking their lives. He needed to protect his country. “Stay here, dumpling.” Leaving a kiss on his forehead, Bucky follows Ladybird into the kitchen.

Two strong arms wrap around her waist and the tears she was desperate to hold in, cascade down her cheeks, ruining the makeup she spent so much time on. She was trying to be strong for him, support him before sending him off, but it was too much. Knowing that he could be killed at any moment, and these could be her final memories of him, was too overwhelming.

“I know, Ladybird, I know. I promise you that I’ll come home, okay? I can’t leave my best girl and guy alone.” She turns in his arms and his calloused palms rest on her cheeks, thumbs wiping away the stream of mascara running down her face.

“Steve, he, he can’t enlist, Buck. He just can’t. How am I supposed to stay here knowing that the loves of my life are out there, getting shot at, bombs going off, huh?” Steve sneaks in, snaking his arms around her waist.

“For you, Ladybird, I won’t. I’ll wait here with you, send Bucky letters, keep you safe, okay?” She knew it was a lie; Steve could never lie, but she chose to believe him in that moment. Maybe for her own sanity, or maybe just to savor the last moments she would ever get to spend with her men.

She was Bucky off, waving to him when he boarded the train, but when Steve left the house for errands she knew where he was going - she never saw him again, but she knew it was for his love for her and Bucky. She didn’t blame him.

***

When Steve woke up from the ice, the first thing he did was see if his Ladybird was still alive. From the moment he got the serum, he regretted lying to her. He knew when he looked in her eyes, she knew what he was going to do; she accepted his choice. It was who he was and she wouldn’t dream of him being anything else.

He cried that night, when Fury gave him the documents he so graciously printed from Google. Ladybird died only a few years after he went on ice. She never moved on. They said it was a broken heart, but the 40’s would never report a woman drinking herself to death, wallowing in the sorrow of lost love.

It was his fault. Maybe she could have healed from the loss of Bucky if he was there. It would never take away the pain, but she would have one of them, but he left her behind. He would visit her grave daily; her body six feet below him, wearing the dog tags of her lovers.

The pain was eased when he found Bucky. They had each other. Even when he couldn’t remember much, Bucky remembered his Ladybird. Steve wishes he could forget the day he had to tell the man he loved that their girl was dead.

“I still want to be with you, Steve.” It took a while before Bucky was stable enough to choose to love again, but it was never a hard decision. The love for Steve too much to ignore.

Their first time was much different from the 40’s. They both changed so much - Steve more so than Bucky. They couldn’t get each other naked fast enough, kisses and loving touches scattered throughout.

Bucky didn’t feel embarrassed by his arm, not when Steve’s eyes were filled with so much love and lust. Bucky had to look away, his eyes landing on his boyfriend’s cock. “Oh my god, Steve!” He didn’t mean to gawk but he couldn’t help it. Steve went from slightly below average to very much above it. Long and thick, veins pulsing through his cock, supplying enough blood to keep his large erection up.

“What? Oh.” Steve’s signature blush crept up his cheeks just like it used to. Even though his body changed so dramatically, he was still the same boy from Brooklyn Bucky fell in love with. “You’re bigger too, Buck.” Steve shied away from Bucky’s gaze, worried about how Bucky’s cock was going to fit inside of him.

“It hasn’t changed that much, dumpling.” It was almost true. Bucky was always above average - maybe seven inches. He was always thick, but now? His cock looked like it doubled in thickness, and around an inch added to his length.

“Yeah, right.” Bucky beamed at Steve as he became more comfortable under Bucky’s gaze.

“Well, how about we compare sizes then?” They both groan at the first contact in years, dicks pressed against each other. “Won’t you look at that, you’re bigger than me, dumpling.” Steve’s face scrunched in confusion, trying to focus through the haze of pleasure. There was no way that he was bigger than Bucky.

Nonetheless, Steve looks down, almost cumming at the sight of his lover’s cock leaking onto his. His eyes widened; he was bigger than Bucky. It was only by an inch, even with the serum thickening his cock, Bucky was still much thicker. “Good boy, see how pretty your cock is? Fuck, missed you so much.”

Bucky groans in between words as he grinds against Steve, cock pushed harder against his. Steve’s hands find the sides of Bucky’s face, pulling him down in a heated kiss while ropes of his cum shoot out onto both of their stomachs and chests. Bucky follows right after, not able to handle the pleasure the simple grind of their hips brings him as they both share their first orgasm since the 40’s.

He collapses on Steve’s chest while they both catch their breath. “Darling, I need your cock in me. Need to feel how you stretch me out.” Bucky’s cock instantly hardens.

“Fuck, dumpling, we don’t have lube.” Even in his lust filled state, Bucky knows that going any further would hurt.

“Don’t need it. Look at all our cum.” Bucky looks down and whimpers. The serum really did a number on them. His first orgasm in 80 years was a lot. The mixture of their cum was dripping down Steve’s sides and leaking down Bucky’s chest. He quickly dips down to get a mouthful of their cum, moaning as he shares it with Steve. “You taste just as good as I remember, Buck.”

Bucky scoops a generous amount onto two of his fingers while Steve eagerly spreads his legs, presenting his tight hole to his partner. At this moment, it’s just the two of them. The pain of their Ladybird is gone, if only momentarily.

The moan that leaves Steve’s lips as Bucky’s first finger breeches his hole is almost enough to have him cumming untouched. He doesn’t know how long he stretches Steve out for, but it was enough time to have Steve cumming on his chest again, giving Bucky more lube to use.

“Ready, dumpling? Ready for your sergeant’s cock?” Steve only moans, frantically nodding his head. No one would have thought that the tough captain was so submissive in bed. Bucky strokes his cock with Steve’s spend a few times before lining up with his stretched out hole.

He meets little resistance as his tip slips in. “Fuck, Steve. Think you’re even fucking tighter.” He has to close his eyes, balls pulsing and pulling up already. Steve’s tight ass ready to suck all of his cum out.

“Uh, uh, just bigger. So much bigger.” Steve’s mind was empty, only wanting his ass full. He cries when Bucky hikes his legs up, wanting to be as close as possible. “Wait, please.” Bucky immediately eases his cock out, knowing that he’s a lot bigger to take now. After a few minutes, Steve’s breath evens out and his eyes lock with Bucky’s, nodding at his lover.

As gently as he can, Bucky slides back inside his ass, slowly feeding Steve inch after inch. “How full are you, Stevie?” It wasn’t smug; Bucky needed to know that Steve was okay. Leaning down, Bucky presses his forehead against Steve’s, staring into his eyes. Tears fall from both of their eyes, connected so intimately again.

“So full, Buck.” He leans up to capture Bucky’s lips in a kiss, neither able to think straight, let alone kiss properly.

“I love you so fucking much, dumpling.” Steve cries out, hips jerking in an attempt to take more of his sergeant’s dick. As Bucky’s hips rest against Steve’s center, they both cum, chanting each other’s name like a mantra, whispers of their love passed back and forth. Neither of them can stop, trying to make up for all the years spent apart. All the years each spent mourning the loss of the other.

By the end of the night, they’re both spent. Cuddled in each other’s arms, Bucky is the first to break the silence. “Is it just me, or does this almost feel wrong without Ladybird?”

“It does, but she wouldn’t want us to stop loving each other.” Bucky doesn’t respond, caught up in his own mind. The pain from losing their Ladybird would never go away and they both knew that.

***

“Dumpling, you should stay there.” It’s said so quietly that if Steve wasn’t a super soldier he wouldn’t have heard him.

“Excuse me?” Steve pulls away, quickly sitting up in the bed.

“You should stay with her. You deserve it - she deserves it.” Bucky hangs his head, not able to look Steve in the eyes.

“And you don’t?”

“No. After all I’ve done, I’d only taint her. She doesn’t deserve that.” It was a decision that Bucky thought long and hard about.

“You think she would believe that? That I would? I just lost you, Buck and you’re asking me to do it again.” Steve stands and paces around the room, not able to comprehend what his boyfriend was saying.

“Think about it, Stevie. At least she would have one of us. You know what happened when she found out we both were ‘dead.’”

“Drop it, okay?” And Bucky did, but he planted the seed inside Steve’s mind.

***

“I’ll never stop loving you, Darling.” Bucky nodded, failing to hold in his tears, knowing that this was the last time he was going to see his best guy.

“Take care of her for me, yeah?”

“You know I will.” He grabs Bucky’s face, sharing their last kiss, tears mixing together. “And don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” His voice cracks, saying his final goodbye.

Bucky swallows hard. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” He caresses Steve’s cheek once more and pats it, letting his hand fall down. They look at each other in silence, burning this memory into their brains.

He can’t bear to look at Bucky when he gets on the pad.

***

Steve’s throat is tight as he looks at his old brownstone. His Ladybird is right behind the door, having no idea who is outside. He picks up the spare key - exactly where it always was.

He has to close his eyes, taking in the familiar scent of the home he shared with his two loves. Stepping over the threshold, he sees her and his breath gets caught in his throat. “Ladybird?” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice, so unsure and in disbelief of what he was seeing.

Her head whips around; the dish she was washing shatters as it hits the ground. “Stevie?” His feet are glued to the ground, back hitting the closed door as he tries not to fall to his knees. “Is it really you?” Unlike him, Ladybird sprints to him, her dress fluttering at the speed she moves, the dog tags of her lovers jiggle with every step.

She almost tackles him to the ground, arms intertwined around his neck, legs clutching his waist. He catches her easily, his own arms squeezing her to his chest. Both of their sobs mix together as Steve drops down on the couch, legs no longer able to hold him up. “I thought you were dead. They send soldiers here and everything.” Steve couldn’t form an explanation, too caught up in her entire being.

He can only pull her into a kiss. It was messy, full of tears and snot, but neither of them cared. She didn’t know how long he waited for this moment. They held each other for hours, crying and kissing. Eventually, she fell asleep in his arms.

Steve didn’t have it in him to put her down as he went around the house. Everything was just as he remembered. The kitchen table, engraved with all their initials, still had three chairs around it, each one in different states of ruin - Bucky always flopped in his chair leaving the legs wobbly. Steve’s favorite mug sat on the lowest shelf, right where pre-serum Steve could reach, even though Bucky loved to put it up higher so that Steve had to ask for his help.

The living room still held the old rickie bookshelf that Ladybird insisted that she could put together by herself, no matter how many times her men offered help. Upon it was Bucky’s first edition copy of The Hobbit. He and Ladybird would always make fun of him for how much time, money, and effort he spent just to get that book - Steve placed it in a box along with the recipes from Mrs. Barnes.

The bedroom made his breath hitch, his arms instinctively holding Ladybird closer. His favorite chair, ripped in multiple spots, sat in the corner of the room, right by the window. Right next to it was his stand where his old sketchbook sat untouched - he put that in the box too. Bucky’s side of the closet hung his clothes, neatly arranged in order of his favorites, while Steve’s clothes lay on the ground in a pile, always too lazy to fold them.

The top left dresser draw held the photo album Ladybird made them for Christmas/Hanukkah - that went in the box. Ladybird’s jewelry box had a necklace with the Star of David that she saved for to get Bucky on his birthday. Bucky gave it back to her before he left for safekeeping - in the box it went. On top of the dresser were all the letters she sent to Bucky and Steve, along with the letters they sent her. The army gave them back to her with their dog tags - Steve made sure to not damage them as they were placed in the box.

***

The team shared gasps and whispers between themselves as Steve reappeared with a woman in one arm and a small box in the other. He whispers something in her ear before pointing in the distance.

A gorgeous smile graces her lips as her eyes meet Steve’s target. She doesn’t hesitate to sprint across the grass, bare feet and ignoring all of the Avengers. Bucky doesn’t hear the beat of her steps, overwhelmed at the loss of both of his partners.

He doesn’t know what hit him as he falls to the ground. Kisses are placed all over his face. For a second, he thinks that he’s dreaming because he would know her smell anywhere, the feeling of her lips ingrained in his mind. But even in his dreams, he couldn’t hear her voice, always muffled and distant, but it was clear as day as he lay on the soft ground.

“Bucky!” He has to grab her face to stop her assault, pulling her back far enough to confirm that it was real, that his Ladybird was in his arms.

“Bird? Oh my god.” He pulls her back down, showering her with affection, practically rolling them around in the grass, not caring about the audience that slowly surrounded them. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Her tears come back once again. His hair was longer, worry lines sprinkled around his face, cool metal pressed against her right cheek, his right hand more callused than before. Steve told her a bit about what happened, about how Bucky lost his arm, how insecure he felt because of it.

Without pause, she tilts her head, soft lips placed delicately on his metal palm. “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” Stuck in their own little bubble, they don’t notice Steve laying beside them until his arms wrap around them both.

With one look he gets the rest of the Avengers to leave them in peace. Unlike his past self, Steve could lie when he needed to. He knew that Bucky wouldn’t have let him go to return the stones if he knew Steve wasn’t going to stay. Laying a kiss to Bucky’s forehead, Steve takes in the sight before him, all of them together at last.

“Bucky, you were right. I did take all the stupid with me.” Bucky’s tear streaked face looks over at his partner.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, dumpling.” For the first time since before the war, all three of them felt at peace, finally in each other’s arms again. It may have taken 80 some years, but none of them would change a thing if there was even the smallest chance that they wouldn’t end up together.

[buckyshoneybunny]

Their Babydoll

WinterWidow + Shy!Stark!Curvy!reader 

Summary- Bucky and Natasha take a liking to the shy designer. 

W.C.- 2212 

Warnings- Smut, fluff, cursing, unprotected sex, oral (fem, reader), cum eating, let me know if I missed anything. 

A/N- I hope you guys like! Sorry if the smut sucks, I was tired lol. I know these fics are usually Bucky x Reader x Steve but I would want Nat more. Anyway I already have an idea for a new series and it includes Biker Bucky! Not proof read, all mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy it my lovelies!  

Masterlist 

“Please Uncle Tony!” You beg for the hundredth time.  

“No,” he says, not even looking up from the device he was tweaking.  

“But-” 

“No,” he interrupts you.  

You stick your bottom lip out and give your best puppy eyes. It would always work when you were younger. Now though? 

“No”  

You groan and cross your arms. You smile to yourself. “You know, Aunt Pepper has been wondering what happened to her-” 

“Okay! Okay,” he sighs and pushes the protective glasses further up his nose as he looks at you. “There’s no need to bring Pepper into this.” 

You giggle and lean your hip against the table he’s working at. “You always were afraid of Aunt Pepper.” 

“I’m not afraid of her,” he huffs. “I just happen to have a healthy amount of respect for her.”  

“You’re afraid of her, Tony,” Bruce pipes up from across the lab.  

You giggle as Tony sends you and Bruce a glare.  

“Why do you even want to use the holographic interfaces?” Tony asks. 

“Because it would make designing floor plans so much easier! Using your tech would help me with the critical parts of my job.”  

“But you don’t even know how to use them.” 

“You could teach me.” 

“But I don’t hav-” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he huffs.  

You squeal and hug him. “Thank you, Uncle Tony!”  

He pats your arm, “Yeah yeah.” 

Most people didn’t know Tony had a sister; hell no one knew he actually had any siblings until you showed up with your stuff one rainy day. 

Freshly 19 and ready to make a name for yourself in the world of Interior Design, you’d moved to New York thinking this was the best place to do so. 

Your mother, Tony’s younger sister only by a few years, called to express her worry of you moving there and being alone.  

So, Tony being the ever so giving person he is, and a few not-so-subtle threats from your mother, told you that you could stay at the Avengers Tower. You were furious, ranting about how you wanted to make it on your own and didn’t need any help. But when he mentioned you’d get to meet and spend time with the Avengers, you quickly got over it. 

You were so excited to meet the Avengers, you’d always had a major crush on Bucky. You even wrote a paper about him for your history class in the 6th grade. His sparkling steel blue eyes taking you captive. You wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through his shoulder length brown hair, hoping it’s as soft as it looks. And you can’t forget those full, pink lips that could make a gal melt like butter on hot asphalt.  

But he was taken, by your second favorite Avenger, Natasha Romanoff. You definitely had a girl crush on her. She was so strong and skilled, every womans idol. She was the reason you tried and failed at learning how to fight. So what if you were thicker than the other girls? Yeah okay, you had thick thighs, a pudgy, soft stomach and flabby arms, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t learn some moves like the other girls. To be fair though, that instructor was a womanizer. 

He said, and I quote, that you’d ‘never make it anywhere in life looking like that’. Boy did you prove him wrong. You were one of the best Interior Designers in New York, you had a special touch that other designers didn’t have. And you loved your job, you loved bringing peoples dreams to life and seeing the joy on their face.  

You enjoyed it, but it wasn’t always easy. The meticulous planning, writing up contracts, getting a crew for certain aspects in and out on time could be grueling at times, but seeing the looks on your client’s faces when they’d see the finished product was always worth it.  

You had been worried when you first got to the Tower, worried the other Avengers wouldn’t like you. It was all for nothing though because they absolutely loved you, you were a part of their dysfunctional family now and they had no plans of letting you go. Everyone had really taken a liking to you, especially Bucky and Natasha. 

When you introduced yourself to them with your cheeks flushed, hands nervously fidgeting behind your back, and your shy little voice, it made Natasha want to wrap her arms around you and protect you from the world.  

But, on the other hand, seeing your long thick thighs on display, juicy ass just barely covered by the shorts you wore, and your tank top that hugged your curves just right made her’s and Bucky’s mouths water. That body paired with your shy, innocent demeanor made them want to swallow you whole. 

They had been happy just the two of them, rekindling their love once they both were free. They never thought about having someone else in their relationship, never wanted anyone else, until you.  

One knowing look and desire fill conversation later they knew they had to have you. They just had to be careful so they wouldn’t scare you away, and make sure Tony didn’t find out and do something crazy. He was very protective of you. 

So, the next couple of years were spent with heated looks, lingering touches, and subtle hints thrown at you that you never seem to catch. They were tired of this game of chase, frustrated and on a level of horny so high that they couldn’t fuck down no matter how hard they tried. Bucky was this close to fucking up against the closest wall, Natasha not far behind. But they’d soon get what they longed for.  

You studied your reflection in the mirror again. The thin strapped, black dress that stopped mid-thigh, and had a slit going up your left thigh, hugged your body perfectly. You wouldn’t normally wear something so revealing but Wanda said this dress was perfect.  

She’d said you’d definitely be getting fucked tonight. She may or may not have read Bucky and Natasha’s minds and knew this dress would make them lose it.  

Tonight was Sam’s birthday party, although his birthday wasn’t for two more days, he’d be in Louisiana visiting his sister so Steve wanted to throw him a party before he left.  

Making sure your curls were perfect, you sprayed on some perfume and put some black heels on and headed down to the floor the party was being held at. 

Natasha and Bucky were sat at the bar area, formulating a plan on how to make you theirs. Natasha wore an off the shoulder, floor length, blood red dress that fit her just right, with matching lipstick and heels.  

Bucky had a tailor-made, black suit that showed his defined muscles. His face clean-shaven, displaying his sharp jaw and his hair tied back in that low, sexy bun he’s always sporting.  

Natasha was the first to see you, choking on her drink as she takes you in, causing Bucky to follow her line of sight. His cock rock hard instantly. She bit her lip and one shared glance; they knew tonight was the night and they had just the plan to do it. 

You lock eyes with Natasha and she beckons you over.  

“Look at you, firefly,” she grins and you blush.  

Bucky whistles and looks you up and down. “You’d give poor old Steve a heart attack in that dress, doll. You look amazing.”  

“You think so?” You shyly ask. 

“Definitely,” Natasha adds.  

You begrudgingly do a shot with them after the persisted you do at least one to help loosen you up, even though they knew you didn’t like alcohol. They didn’t leave your side the rest of the night, not that you minded, you loved being the center of their attention. They were waiting for the perfect moment to sneak you away, that moment came after the cake and presents, everyone having gone back to drinking and dancing.  

Natasha loops her arm with yours. “So, firefly,” she smirks. “Me and Bucky were thinking of changing up our room, think you could help us?” There a devious sparkle in her eyes that you miss. 

Your eyes light up. “Yes!” You smile.  

They lead you away from the party and up to their room. Once inside Bucky locks the door. You look around as Natasha comes up behind you and puts her hands on your waist. She runs her nose up the side of your neck, taking in the scent of your perfume. You freeze. 

“Nat?” You ask on a shaky whisper.  

“Yes, firefly?” She nibbles on your ear, causing you to shudder. 

Bucky stands in front of you and cups your face, tilting your head to make you look at him. His lips inches from yours. Your follow-up question gets stuck in your throat. 

“Do you know,” Bucky starts, leaning forward to nudge his nose with yours. 

“How long we’ve been waiting for you?” Natasha finishes, kissing your shoulder. 

“What?” You ask through the already forming fog in your brain. 

“We want you, firefly. Will you let us have you?” She slides her hands up to just under your boobs, waiting for your consent. You whimper and nod. 

“Words doll,” Bucky says. 

“Yes,” you whisper breathlessly.  

Bucky smashes his lips to yours as Natasha cups your boobs, squeezing them. You moan and grab Bucky’s forearms.  

He steps back and takes his suit jacket off, instructing Nat to take your dress off. She slowly unzips the dress and pushes the straps off your shoulders. It gets bunched around your middle, you blush, insecurities sneaking up on you. She just pushes it the rest of the way down. 

Your hands itch to cover yourself but stop when Bucky lets out a deep groan. He whispers a fuck and reaches down to squeeze his throbbing cock. You let out a whine. 

“Get on the bed and spread those gorgeous thighs, doll,” he rasps. His eyes black with lust. Your bra and panties come off and you get on the bed, laying on your back and shyly spreading your thighs.  

Natasha moans. “Look at her Buck.” He hums and pushes the straps of her dress off her shoulder, revealing she had nothing on underneath. He groans and kisses her; she unbuttons his shirt. You whine, more slick coming out and coating your folds. They break apart and grin. 

While Bucky finishes taking his clothes off, Natasha comes beside you and starts to play with your breasts, pinching and tugging your nipples causing you to moan. Bucky, now naked, kneels between your legs, taking in the sight of your soaked pussy.  

“Already so wet and we’ve hardly touched you babydoll,” he taunts. You whine, the feeling of his hot breath causing you to shudder. 

“Don’t tease her Buck,” Natasha says as she takes one of your nipples into her mouth.  

She nips lightly at the bud as Bucky presses his tongue to your clit, you let out a high-pitched moan and grip his hair. As she teases your nipples, Bucky eats you out like a starved man, mumbling out how good you taste in between slurps and gasps of breath. 

Bucky can’t handle it anymore and stands up before you can cum. “I gotta be in you, doll, fuck.” He gets in between your legs and lines his leaking tip up with your entrance.  

He slowly slides in and your eyes roll back. He gives you a second once he bottoms out, letting you adjust. Natasha rubs your clit as he starts to move. 

“How does she feel?” She asks 

“S’fucking good, so tight, shit” He groans and pounds into you. 

Natasha oscillates between making out with you and sucking you breasts and leaving hickies. She keeps rubbing your clit. You grip the sheets, panting and moaning. Bucky angles his thrusts just right and you scream as he hits that spot inside of you that causes you to see stars. 

“I-I’m go-....gonna...” You can’t even finish your sentence. 

He speeds up his thrusts, “Cum, doll, soak my cock.” 

Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you squirt, soaking his balls, thighs, and the bed. His hips stutter as he cums unexpectedly, he rides out both of your highs, his cock not softening at all.  

Natasha motions for him to pull, when he does, she immediately gets between your legs and eats you out, moaning at the taste of your slick and Bucky’s cum. He groans and starts to fuck her. 

This goes on for hours, both of them pull orgasms out of you. By the end of it, you lay cuddle between them, exhausted. They say that they want you to be a part of their relationship, you agree, feeling like you’re dreaming. The two people you’ve had the biggest crush on actually wanted you to be with them, you couldn’t have been happier. 

When Tony finds out he whacks both Natasha and Bucky in the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper. He also now carries a spray bottle with him for when y’all get a little too handsy.  

All in all you’re living your dream and you couldn’t be happier.

[shatterinseconds]

“You’re a mess, darling.” Lance smiles up at him, a big toothy smile that Keith has always loved to see especially when directed towards him, even if he refuses to show it.

“That should be my line to you.” Keith chuckles through the worry lodged inside his throat. The little light that spills into the cave does a good job of disguising the terrible state Lance is currently in. Keith sits on his heels beside Lance laying flat on the rocky ground. He works quietly to staunch the bleeding on Lance’s right side.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Lance winces when Keith presses too hard. “Nah, you’d never use pet names, and I–I always look flawless.”

Keith hums his response, rifling through their emergency pack for medical supplies. He peels off the sterile packaging and slaps the thick bandage over the ugly wound. It’s not his best work but Lance is stable for now.

“Keith, I need to tell—”

“Hey, you’re going to be okay.” Keith snaps his head up, immediately interrupting Lance’s train of thought and doesn’t feel bad about it. To soothe him, he brushes the hair plastered to Lance’s forehead. Blood crusts parts of his hair from a head wound from earlier in the battle, but the main problem is the nasty stab wound from a jagged pipe the Galra soldier improvised with when Lance had shot the Galra’s blaster hand and Keith was too far to stop it all from happening. “It’s not a fatal injury. The team’s arriving soon.”

Those two facts are the only things that have stopped Keith’s mind from running into a free fall of worry and anxiety. The injury will leave a scar but Lance will be alive to bear it, and in the end, that is the most important part.

Lance nods, a little more clear headed though his eyes squeeze closed when he shifts his body. “No, I know,” he replies, starting to become breathless though his pulse has not weakened. “I still… I still need to say it.”

“What if I don’t want you to say it now? What if I’d rather hear you say it once you’re all healed and healthy and able to annoy the shit out of me?”

“Why’re you so certain you know what I’m going to say?” Lance turns his head to properly glare at Keith. Irritation pinches his mouth. “I could be confessing that my favorite color has been orange this entire time. I’ve been fooling you all.”

Keith shakes his head as he allows his hand to fall from Lance’s warm forehead and traces down to his jawline, wiping off some of the dirt sticking to his sweaty skin. “‘Cause I know you and I know myself, and I’ve a feeling our secrets are not so different from one another’s.”

“Someone’s feeling confident,” Lance scoffs when he turns away to stare more at the cave ceiling. A smirk slides onto his face and Keith, probably with the help of latent Galra genes, is able to see that as clear as day. “Maybe I shouldn’t say it at all if you already know.”

“Mm, don’t be stubborn.” He checks Lance’s pulse for the nth time; his fingers linger against his neck, pleased by the sure sign of life.

“That’s your best quality not mine,” Lance mutters and Keith snorts before trying to appease him. He is injured after all. Keith should probably stop trying to have so much fun at his expense. But it's also the only way he’s going to get through this with his sanity intact and not think about Lance injured and future injuries that might not be so survivable. Keith leans over him to make sure Lance doesn’t miss a single thing he’s about to say.

“If you promise not to forget this moment, you can tell me the minute you step out of the healing pod, alright?”

Suddenly, Lance sits up, biting his lower lip against a yelp of pain, and Keith tries to push him back to the ground, but Lance shoves off his help. He glares at Keith, dark eyes shining in the dark, as he says, “I never forget anything when it comes to you.”

That admission stuns Keith for a moment, immediately recalling another similar situation of injury and confessions, and he starts to grin, one of the sardonic variety. “Good, I’m glad we’ve discovered what a big liar you are.” 

Lance still has the strength to roll his eyes. “I’m gonna say it and you better be ready, Mullet. There’ll be no take backs. All honest truth.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

[star-crossed-sluts]

Could you please write a loki x reader. Reader gains weight on accident at first but loki likes it so he gets reader to gain more. Fem reader.

If not it’s okay <3

I love writing about men discovering they like reader chubby <3 This is my first time writing third person limited focused on the male lead, so any feedback would be cherished

Contents: 1.1kwords, love mentions, weight gain and associated body changes/insecurities, giggly sex

Minors DNI

You are responsible for your own media consumption

Loki’s never been… particular, shall we say? 

Sex was nothing to him. A means to an end, no care for any specific physical form for his partner to have, let alone prefer it. Love on the other hand was something he’d never dreamed of having for himself - some abstract concept that didn’t exist, at least not for him. He never thought for a second that love was something he would hold in his arms every dawn and dusk, or that he could taste it in homemade cooking and smell it in the bathroom after you’d showered. 

In that aspect, you’d managed to exceed all the expectations he’d never had.

“Fuck!”

Loki never knew how terrible love could be. How his heart could drop out of his body just from a vulgar word in the other room, or how he could be so worried he could completely forget about using magic to get to you faster. Not until he was running through your apartment (which he was slowly and methodically laying his own claim to, until he was so ingrained in your life you couldn’t get rid of him. Naturally.) Why would anyone subject themselves to something that could hurt so much?

And then he laid eyes on your half-nude form and remembered.

Because you were standing in the middle of your bedroom in your undergarments (“please just call them panties,” you’d always beg) and he had the absolute privilege to stare at you as perversely as he desired. If another man thought of you the way he did, he’d have to reconsider world domination. Put the fear of the gods back into those mortals. 

But when you spun around to face him, you had a sour look puckering your lovely features. “You,” you accused, jabbing a finger at him, “are at fault here!”

“Probably,” he conceded instantly. “What have I done?”

You threw some of your clothes at him. He recognized them. You called them the good jeans. He called them infernal invention that keeps me from your sweet pussy. “They don’t fit anymore!”

He tried not to show his pleasure too much. “Oh?” He immediately knew he’d failed, your glare furthering. 

“Oh,” you mocked, a thick British accent on the word. “This is your fault, y’know? Before you, I ate pretty healthy. Now I’m going out every other night to restaurants that smother everything in butter and wine-”

“You’re upset about going out?”

Loki could practically watch memories of the delicious food you’ve been sharing dance through your vision, inducing a small dreamy sigh. “No,” you decided, “no, I’m not. No, I just-” You huffed, falling against his chest and trusting him to both hold you upright and comfort you - which he did happily. “I’m just frustrated because now I have to actually put effort into working out or find new jeans.”

And, well, Loki was adamantly against more jeans, so he may have gently swayed you to the other option. After all, he wanted you happy, and he didn’t care what your form looked like to make that happen.

Until he got you undressed in a different circumstance. 

Until he was bullying his way into your sweet cunt with your soft form pressed against him. Your breasts bouncing against the hard plane of his chest, thick thighs hooked over his slim hips, heels pressed into the small of his back. You felt like velvet all over - from the soft skin pulled taut over wide hips in his hands to the wet heat wrapped around his cock. He hasn’t been so close to blowing his load so soon since his first time between your thighs. 

“Look so beautiful, my love,” spilled from his lips like a waterfall. He simply couldn’t hold it back, and besides that, he wouldn’t want to. His Queen deserved to know just how stunning she was, every minute of the day. Especially when it made you moan into his ear, hand snapping over your mouth like you could take it back, turning away from him even as your hips met his with every thrust. 

His Queen was so shy. 

Loki took the soft tendon on your neck between his teeth, gently working a mark onto the skin, groaning against you as your walls fluttered around him at the sensation. “Don’t hide from me, love,” he coaxed. Long fingers wrapped around your neck from behind, rubbing gentle circles into your hairline, completely contrary and yet perfectly befitting the way he hammered into you. His other hand traveled your body like he was discovering you all over again, caressing every new dip and pudge of skin like you were the most amazing sculpture. People across the world would marvel at your beauty, whisper that man wasn’t capable of creating such magnificence - that you were instead made by a god. 

“Stop,” you slurred through the pleasure, his rolling hips working your sensitive clit against his dark hair. Your hand on his back clawed the pale skin, leaving your mark on him as it curled into a fist, beating the breadth of his shoulders with no force. You giggled through the moans as his fingers danced over your sides, hissing, “that tickles,” at him as if that would ever implore him to quit. “Stop fondling my rolls!”

“What a cruel world,” he lamented theatrically, the only way he knew how, “when a man can’t even fondle his dearest love!” 

“Be serious when you’re in my guts!”

“I am serious, darling!” A sharp tug pulled you higher up on his lap, cock spearing even deeper into you, pushing out a whine from deep in your chest. “Don’t you feel how well we fit? You’re perfect, my love, and your body’s no exception.”

He let you hide away in his neck, nipping your own small marks onto him as his thrusts turned slower, more sensual. “Even when I’ve gained-”

“Don’t you Midgardians have a saying about that? ‘In sickness and in health?’” 

Your lips stretched against him, betraying the way you tried to sound less eager as your hips rolled against his. “Those are wedding vows, Loki.”

He guided you to his lips, devouring you with a smile. “I’m practicing for the future, then.” 

He delighted in the way you giggled as you came on his cock, holding him close as he fucked you through it. He craved the way you no longer shied away when he groped your waist, pulling you harder against him as he used the way your cunt sucked him in to chase his own end.

He had a standing reservation made before your legs stopped shaking.

[creamsickle-writes]

Doctor's Orders: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Tags: nsfw, role-playing, innocence play/ddlg (no use of Daddy, but similar dynamic?), doctor/patient roleplay, penetrative sex, oral sex, fingering, light degradation, and overstim

Law was pretty fickle when it came to sex.

Sometimes he would tease you, suggesting intimate time alone as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. On other days, you would mess with him relentlessly, using dirty words and well-timed touches to get your way. 

Sometimes he would cave.

Sometimes he wouldn't.

This inconsistency was rather irritating at times.

It had been some time since you last had sex, and your urges were starting to get the better of you. You let out a loud sigh, hoping Law would put down his book for the night, but he didn't even shuffle. 

You pause before letting out another dramatic sigh, flopping on your back as you lay on his bed, looking over at him as he sat at his desk. You puffed your cheeks out; okay, so you would have to be more direct.

You rise from the bed and waltz over to your boyfriend.

"Lawww…." You draw out, leaning over his shoulder as he reads the umpteenth thick medical book of the evening, "I'm bored; let's do something!"

Your stiff, stoic boyfriend doesn't budge an inch or even turn to look your way. He only grumbles something under his breath before going silent again. You aren't satisfied with that response, so you poke his cheek as you angle yourself over his seated form.

And when that doesn't get you a response, you keep poking and prodding his face until he lets out a frustrated sound.

"I'm busy right now. Go entertain yourself." He shoos you off, but you only lean in further, your chin resting on his head as you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind.

"But Lawwwww-"

Law groans in annoyance and refuses to take his eyes off his book, "You're so damn irritating. Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Mmn," you pout your lips, "Not right now, no."

He scowls but refuses to close the book, his dark eyes raking through long paragraphs of text accompanied by technical images of the body. 

The content of his book reminds you of something that always catches his interest.

"Mister Doctor…"

You feel him stiffen up under your touch; those magic words that always yielded the result you wanted were about to work their magic.

"Don't start. I'm busy-"

"C'mon, let's play doctor together again…" you purr, your hands dipping lower as they run down his chest. You move your head so your lips are next to her ear, "That could be fun, right? You love when I act all cute when we play… And it's been so long-"

"It's only been a week-" He groans again, but this time it's not just pure annoyance; underlying arousal is also hidden in that sound, "You're insatiable."

Your lips curl into a smile as you know it'll only take one more tiny push.

"C'mon, please?" You beg so sweetly, pitching your voice slightly as you whine, "My body feels weird. I need a doctor to look at it…"

There's a long pause before he speaks.

"Well, if you're actually feeling unwell, then I could take a look…"

You unwrap your arms from his body, taking a few steps back as he rises from his chair. When he turns to face you, his deep dark eyes stare straight through you. He knows you're full of shit and perfectly healthy, but he'd rather pretend he's concerned instead of admitting that he was getting aroused from the mental image you put in his head. After all, he knew perfectly well how this scenario would play out.

"Get on the bed," he starts, "Sit on the edge."

You hop up on his bed, sitting straight with your hands on your lap. He picks up his wooden chair from his desk and positions it in front of you, the chair's legs parallel to the bed now. He sits in it, leaning back slightly as he looks you over.

"So, what's wrong with you this time, huh?"

He looks down at you, his face unchanging. He's hard to read, what with that stoic expression he always wears, but you can see the faintest bit of a blush on his cheeks.

"Oh, it's awful," you draw out, letting out an exaggerated sigh, "Between my legs, it feels strange…"

He hums before looking you over, "I'll need more information than that… You might need to strip down for me so I can examine the area completely…"

"Yes, Doctor…" you smirk before lifting your dress over your head and removing your panties. Law hums in approval as you sit completely nude before him. His eyes rake over your body, and you can see the lust in them despite his controlled expression.

"Lay back and relax. The exam will be over before you know it..." 

You obey his orders and lay back in the bed, your legs dangling off the edge, "Is it gonna hurt?"

Law spreads your thighs before instructing you to prop your feet on the bed, making your legs bend at the knee. Your sensitive areas are now on display for him, and you're shaking slightly, eager for him to just start touching you. You crane your neck to look at him. To the average observer, his face is cold, calculating, and unbothered, but, as his partner, you recognize the look in his eyes.

He wants to break you and see you come undone by his fingers alone.

"It depends… Has anyone ever touched you here?" He asks gently, his fingers brushing over your slit slowly. 

You shake your head immediately, and he clicks his tongue," I see. Then yes, it might just hurt…"

You play the part of the innocent, blushing girl he loves so desperately.

"Mister Doctor… please be as gentle as possible!"

He hums softly before his fingers trace over your already wet slit. His brows furrow in mock concentration, his calloused fingers spreading your lips slightly.

"Do you know where exactly it feels off? Is it here..?" He inquires, running his fingers over your swollen vaginal lips. 

You shake your head, "Nuh uh, it feels weird here…"

You take his hand and guide his fingertips to your clit. His deep eyes flicker toward your face, his face like stone, "Do you know what that's called?"

"No, Mister Doctor…" you say, turning up the charm and innocence, "Could you teach me?"

"That's your clitoris…" he explains plainly, "But you can also call it a clit…"

Your hair stands on end as his fingers hover over your nub; he had only briefly touched it for a moment when you guided his fingers there, but he quickly retracted his digits, teasing you. He wanted to deny you of touch for as long as possible.

"And here…" his fingers move south from your clit to your entrance, his fingers circling the rim, "This is the vaginal opening… and yours seems very wet right now…"

"I-It keeps getting wet, Doctor…" you say meekly, "I don't know why…"

"Can you tell me when it gets wet?" He prods verbally, pulling his hand away, "Does it happen when you do anything specific?"

“It happens when… I think about you, Doctor…”

His cheeks flush darker, and he lowers his hat, obstructing his eyes, "Well, that's no good…"

"What?" You sit up, propping yourself up with your arms, "What is it, Mister Doctor?"

Law shakes his head, looking up at you with a deadly serious expression, "You might need some special treatment to get rid of this. It's not a permanent solution, but it'll help…"

You giggle to yourself; he always took role-playing so seriously. It was super cute.

"What's the treatment?" You tilt your head innocently.

Law leans forward again, his hands resting on your shins, "I'll have to give you a few orgasms. That should hold you over until your next visit…"

"An orgasm?"

He blushes even further at your pretend innocence as he gets up from the chair, moving it away from the bed, "Don't tell me you don't know that word either…"

You shake your head, and he clicks his tongue, his figure towering over you, "Okay, let me ask this then: when it gets wet, do you ever touch down there?"

"Sometimes…" you shyly admit, "It feels good when I touch my clit…"

"Well, when that good feeling reaches its peak, that's an orgasm…"

You nod, acting like you've been taught a new word and concept. You're surprised when Law sinks to his knees, 'examining' you even closer now. You can feel his hot breath fanning over your clit. You bite your lip as he gets even closer.

"You'll have to give me your explicit consent before I begin the treatment, though… tell me you want me to treat you…"

Your heart rate spikes as he says those words, "Please, help me, Doctor!"

His lips pull into a tight smile, "Of course…"

You gasp as he finally touches your clit, his rough fingers rubbing slow, lazy circles into the nub. You inhale as he leans in even closer, his dark brown eyes glancing up at your face before looking back down at your pussy, "Oh, this looks bad… I'll have to keep you in my office for quite a while…"

You bite your lip as he applies a bit more pressure with his fingers, the circles growing tighter. Your thighs quiver, and he strokes one of them with his free hand as if soothing you. You watch with a tight chest as he angles his fingers so they're prodding at your entrance. Slowly, he sinks his middle and ring finger within your heat, curling them upwards. You moan softly as he rubs his finger pads against the swollen spot. You squirm a bit under the direct stimulation.

He hums, "You're so sensitive. You've never played with this place before?"

You shake your head, "N-No, Mister Doctor…"

He chuckles lowly, "How cute…"

He looks at you intently, his fingers beginning to move a bit faster as he strokes your g-spot. You try to look at him, to maintain eye contact, but it's far too embarrassing. You avert your eyes, and he smirks.

"What's wrong?" 

"I-I feel really embarrassed-" you stutter out, "It feels weird-"

He hums thoughtfully, beginning to rub your clit with his thumb as he strokes your inner walls, "You don't have to be ashamed. I'm a doctor; it's my job to help patients feel better…"

You whine as he removes his fingers and jolt once he dives in, his wet tongue lapping at your swollen nub. Your body jumps in surprise and pleasure before it melts into the mattress, your head tossed back onto the sheets. He moans into your cunt, his tongue swirling and drooling all over your slit.

"M-Mister-" you gasp sharply, "D-Don't lick there. T-That's-"

Law stops a moment, "I know what I'm doing. Just be a good girl and let it happen…"

You moan loudly as he resumes his pace, licking and sucking and lapping at your pussy. Law would never admit it to your face, but he loved eating you out. And when you whined and begged for him to stop when you played this role, that turned him on the most.

He holds your thighs down as you squirm and buck your hips desperately. He's relentless, sucking on your clit like a hard candy. He continues to assault your clit with his tongue for eons before your pleasure begins to bubble over.

"A-Ah," you gasp, "Oh, it's coming-!"

Law only hums in acknowledgment as he keeps up his pace, neither sucking harder nor softer as he brings you over the edge. Your legs can only vibrate so much as Law holds you down, moaning eagerly into your cunt as he tastes your juices. 

He pulls away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "How are your symptoms? Do you feel any better?"

You struggled to speak as you caught your breath, "I feel… a bit better but… now my um, hole, feels empty…"

He chuckles, a smile tugging at his lips as he removes his hat, "Mm, I think I know the cure for that too…"

You readjust yourself on the bed so that Law can climb onto it as well. But before he joins you, he strips down, clad only in his boxers. You bite your lip as you look over his tattooed, tanned body.

"The cure?" You parrot as he crawls into bed, his body hovering over your own.

"Yeah," he says lowly, "I've got a special tool that should fit nicely in there… it'll make you feel all better…"

You watch as he slides out of his black underwear, his cock standing proudly over your cunt. You gasp and look at it wide-eyed, "Oh, but it's so big…"

There's a short pause before Law murmurs, "Turn around… if you don't watch it go in, you won't anticipate the pain; just like a shot…"

You almost snort at his disguised request to take you from behind, but instead, you nod and complete the task, propping yourself on your hands and knees. You push your face into the bed and reach back to spread your ass for him, revealing your dripping pussy. His heart almost stops in his chest at the sight.

"Okay," You sigh, "I'm ready, Mister Doctor…"

He grabs the base of his cock and slides it over your slit, collecting the slick from your hole before pushing in slowly. You moan as his cock stretches you, his length changing the shape of your walls.

"Fuck," he says shakily under his breath as he finally bottoms out, his pelvis pressed flush against your ass. Your eyes flutter shut as you grip the sheets, your cheek resting against the soft covers. Your body feels whole now that he's resting within you, and your pussy eagerly clamps down on him.

"So tight…" Law grumbles, slowly moving his hips in and out. 

"I-Is that a bad thing, Doctor?"

He shakes his head, "N-No, it's normal… don't worry, after we treat this problem, you'll be perfectly healthy-"

His hips pick up the pace, thrusting in and out at a steady rhythm. You whimper and whine as his cock rubs against your g-spot perfectly, each thrust feeling like heaven. You whimper and whine the whole time, and to your surprise, so does Law.

He's unusually vocal tonight, grunting and huffing as he pounds away. He's needy, too, grabbing at your ass and slamming your hips against him to meet his thrusts. You want to tease him, but you're no better, grabbing at the sheets and moaning brokenly.

But you push him, speaking like that innocent character he loves.

"D-Doctor-" You shakily moan, "I-Is this- ah- really alright to do?"

"Trust me. You need this to feel better." He groans, "You trust me, don't you?"

"Y-Yes-"

"Good," He grunts, fucking into you even harder, his hips' movements growing frantic, "That's a good girl."

He leans forward, wrapping his arms around you and holding your breasts as he pumps in and out of you, his breath hot on your neck, "You're so trusting, so sweet... so naive and dumb. "

Your eyes roll back as he rams himself deep inside, his balls brushing against your lips with each thrust, "You need me to tell you what to do and how to do it, don't you? You don't know a damn thing-"

He punctuates his last few words with particularly brutal thrusts, his voice deep and gravelly in your ear.

"L-Law-" You whimper.

"Call me Doctor. Or Mister." He laughs slightly, his breath labored, "Or that combination of both you just love to tease me with-"

His tattooed fingers twist and pull at your nipples, and you sob out for him. 

"D-Doctor-" It comes out a bit too loud, but you don't care if anyone else on the ship hears, "I-It's coming! I-I'm-!"

You squeal as your juices soak his cock. Your legs buckle under your weight, but Law grabs your hips, holding your body up as he fucks you through it. 

Eventually, he pulls out, your cum connecting his tip to you. You're about to break character and laugh at him for going ballistic, but you can tell he's not done with you just yet when he flips you onto your side.

"W-What are you doing now, Doctor?"

He positions himself behind you, laying on his side and burying his face into your neck, "Two orgasms won't be enough. You'll need more than that before I'll let you go."

You gasp as he jerks his cock against your folds before roughly pushing in, his cock hitting places deep inside. You reach back, tugging at his hair. As he removes his lips from your shoulder, you turn your head to look at him before taking his lips with yours. 

Time melts into one big puddle as he pistons in and out of you. His breath is shaky as he murmurs things like "good girl" and "so perfect for me" against your lips. Between rounds of brutal thrusts, he would pull out and rub your clit, his fingers occasionally dipping inside you to assault your g-spot. 

You lost track of how many times you came and how many times your orgasms squirted onto the sheets, but Law didn't seem to care. He wanted to overstimulate you until you couldn't go anymore.

Eventually, as your body grows tired and sore, Law whispers in your ear, "Good girl. You took the treatment so well, but there's one last thing we need to do..."

You look up at him as he hovers over your body, you two long since abandoning the position where you laid on your sides. 

"What's the last step, Doctor...?"

Law positions himself above you, his cock above your lips as you lay your head on the pillows.

He yanks your hair back with one hand and uses his other to hold his dick, pressing his swollen, cum-covered head to your lips, "Take your medicine like a good girl."

You blush darkly and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out as he jerks his cock over your tongue. You watch his bicep flex as he pumps his cock, his chest rising and falling as he approaches the edge.

"That's it, you're a natural..." He grunts softly, and soon, you feel a rope, and then another, decorate your tongue. His face contorts wonderfully, and you keep your tongue still, not retreating until he's shot all of his sticky seed all over your face.

You swallow it, licking your lips proudly to show you've consumed it all.

Law collapses next to you, a thin layer of sweat resting atop his features. You want to cuddle him, but he looks like he's still trying to recover. Instead, you prop yourself up on your elbow and look at him, a brow raised and a smirk on your lips.

"So, Mister Doctor," You giggle, "I see you were very into your role today."

Law huffs and looks at you, his brows furrowed and his lips contorted into a frown. Though, you notice the dark flush on his face, "Shut up, or I won't hold you."

"You wouldn't."

Silence lingers in the air, and for a moment, it seems like neither of you will budge until: "Fine. Just come over here."

You perk up and immediately dive in for a hug, pressing your lips against his cheek.

And at that, you see Law's lips curl into a smile.

[vivalarevolution]

𝓛𝓮𝓽 𝓜𝓮 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽

Jake Sully x Avatar Reader x Neytiri

Request: „can you write a jake sully x na’vi!reader x neytiri?‟

A/N: A request from anon. I must admit that writing polyamory relationships is self-confidently very much liked by me, so this story gave me a lot of pleasure even if it’s not the best. But I hope you all will enjoy it.

Please remember that english is not my native language. Mistakes may happen. Plus, it's smut, so minors don't interact with this work.

Neytiri was to her like the first rays of sunlight after a long cold night, like a mother's embrace or the first breath you take in your lungs after being underwater.

She was warm, kind, caring and selfless. Thanks to her, Y/n forgot about her worries and dark thoughts that lived on her shoulder, whispering in her ear like an old friend.

And Jake.

Jake was something unknown, something forbidden yet so desired, addictive, impossible to forget. Like the first jump into deep water or an adrenaline rush.

When Neytiri was her mind, Jake was her heart, and she couldn't function without one or the other. She had to have both.

But how could she tell them?

-What are you thinking about, my Y/n - the chief's daughter asked, running her fingers through her thick, shiny hair - You are more and more often in your head.

-It's a natural thing to do - she stated, playing with her fingers, still staring up at the sky.

The woman turned her head slightly to the side, looking at her. She lay on the ground, the only elevation being the na'vi thigh rest to hold her head up. Her joined hands rubbed fanatically when her gaze was distant.

-You're always like that when you're worried - Neytiri remarked.

-Like what?-she asked, spreading her hands, looking into her eyes expectantly.

-Unpleasant - she replied honestly, looking at her meaningfully, and she quickly looked away from her - You're worried about Uniltaron. That you will become a full member of the clan?

-I want to get this over with and go back to flying on my ikrana with you - she confessed quietly, frowning with growing irritation.

-You don't care about your new position? - she asked in surprise.

-I like this position, it's quite comfortable - she announced ironically, shrugging her shoulders.

Neytiri hissed at her before standing up, causing Y/n's head to fall heavily to the ground beneath her. Looking in her direction, she watched as her tail moved aggressively back and forth as she tried to calm her emotions.

-I don't like the way you're acting - she said, standing over the Avatar.

-I can't help it - she murmured, making herself more comfortable on the hard ground - Bottling emotions is not healthy.

-My Y/n - the woman pointed out, calmer than a minute before - You should be happy. After all, you will be part of our clan. Part of my family. And you'll be able to pick a mate, you won't be lonely anymore.

- I'm not lonely - she denied immediately - I have you...and Jake - she whispered looking down.

The young woman wanted to scream but her face remained the same, indifferent, like a stone. She couldn't answer honestly, she was too afraid of the reaction. She preferred to avoid the topic of joining the clan like the plague. She just couldn't stand the fact that she had to choose one, and the thought of both Jake and Neytiri choosing someone else broke her heart too deeply.

-Yeah, you have us - a male voice suddenly noticed, and she shot like an arrow from a bow - Then you should tell us what's bothering you - he said, placing his hand on her thigh as an act of comfort.

-How much have you heard? - she asked Sully, suddenly forgetting the chief's daughter standing beside her.

-Enough - he replied, looking deep into her eyes, which sent shivers down her spine - What is it, hm? - he asked.

-Nothing important - the woman announced, quickly getting to her feet to get as far away from this conversation as possible.

-Hey, hey, hey - the man grabbed her, pulling her body to him - We won't let you go until you tell us.

Y/n looked at him indignantly and then shifted her golden irises to Neytiri, who looked just as determined as he was.

-Traitor - she murmured in her direction.

-We just want to find out what's bothering you so much my Y/n so that we can help you - the na'vi said tenderly, standing in front of her - We don't want to see you as if you were your own shadow.

-Then don't look - she said, but Jake didn't liked it.

Grasping her tighter, he smacked lightly his tail against her thigh as a silent warning. His gaze alone left little to argue, so all she could do was surrender.

-You'll say it and we'll let you go, I promise - he said into her ear.

The Avatar lowered her head, fighting the dark thoughts that flooded her like a torrent. Her breathing became heavier and her ears flopped involuntarily, showing how she felt.

-I did something I shouldn't have done - she replied after a long moment.

-What did you do? - the worried woman asked, and Y/n wanted to cry because of the delicacy of her voice.

-I fell in love - she replied, trying to hide herself.

-It's nothing wrong with that - the man reassured her.

-I fell in love with you, both of you! - she finally confessed, frustrated, - And believe me, I've tried everything but no matter how hard I try to get you out of my heart or mind, I can't. And it kills me. Not to be with you kills me.

As the grip on her body loosened, her heart dropped to her gut. She knew it would happen this way. In vain deluding herself that maybe they will be able to live in this unreal dream.

Suddenly, a hand rested on her cheek, lifting her face gently upwards. Her eyes rested on Neytiri, who had a surprisingly soft expression on her face, while the avatar behind her placed his hands on her body again, but in a completely different way, wrapping his arms around her waist as if to shield her from the rest of the world.

-My Y/n - she began - You have us.

Before the woman could fully understand the meaning of the words, Jake's lips attacked her neck while the chief's daughter kissed her, trailing kisses across her face. While Neytiri was subtle and slow, wanting each of her acts to stay on her body, the man behind her devoured her, attacking every available bit of her skin he could find.

In no time, her sanity left her, leaving only a desire that grew as fast as the temperature between three. She didn't object when two pairs of hands slid to her hips, she didn't object being turned around like a rag doll, she didn't object when she was back on the ground.

With half-closed eyelids, she watched as their braids were joined together. She never thought it was possible, but oh how wrong she was. The feeling was overwhelming, but in the best sense of the word. 

Jake looked at the women almost spellbound. The way they rubbed their cheeks together, unable to stop, the way their hands grabbed each other and their lips touched again and again. He himself hid his face between Y/n's breasts, also having a need for closeness. And when she wrapped her legs around him in response, pulling his body in desperation, everything around ceased to matter. All that he cared about was intimacy, and the feeling of desire.

Neytiri moaned quietly into Y/n's mouth as she stroked her neck, running her thumb over her jaw, trying to focus on her pleasure, while Sully, as if possessed, aggressively removed the loincloth from her body, clinging to her womanhood as if it was the only source of the life from which he was allowed to drink. Devouring her as he had done to her skin moments before. He seemed addicted to her smell, her taste, and her subdued whimpers. Wanting to stay between her thighs forever.

The black-haired na'vi pressed on her breasts with her free hand, tucking the material on her chest, which only covered the area around her nipples anyway, massaging them, driving the avatar in her arms to madness.

-So close - she breathed as if she had run a dozen miles.

Jake, hearing this, looked straight into her pupils, abusing even more the little button between her labia, shoving two fingers inside her, which slid inside without a single problem. Young woman's legs trembled from the movement, and her thighs tensed from the orgasm that hit her like a mighty wave. The man, feeling her climax on his tongue and hand, growls low, licking everything she gave him.

-You did so well, my Y/n - Neytiri whispered in her ear.

-Now it's your turn Ney - she murmured looking at her out of the corner of her eye before she ran away from her arms catching the man's face in her hands, kissing his lips soaked with her essence, stroking his tongue with hers, after a while pushing him on his back - You will sit on Jake's face - she informed stretching out her hand towards omaticaya.

-Naughty girl -he growled, panting with excitement.

She looked up at him, gliding her wet folds over his torso before stopping at his loins.

-You haven't even discovered everything - she confessed playfully, before revealing his big, hard member, which slammed against her womanhood, causing them both to moan loudly.

Both women were facing each other, staring deep into their golden eyes with adoration. Neytiri started stroking her cheek again, directing Sully's manhood into her entrance with her free hand, watching as she closed her eyes opening her mouth from which came out the most sinful sounds given to a man to hear.

Jake, feeling her tight, hot canal invites him to her, absorbing him inside through the moisture around him, closed his eyes pushing his hips up. His hands grabbing the firm thighs of the woman above him, pulling her to his open mouth.

Everything went silent around them, and the only sounds that reached their ears were those coming from the three na'vis. Moans, whimpers, sighs, growls, and skin-to-skin slaps repeated themselves, only increasing their thirst.

The man could feel them both moving their hips to their own rhythm and all he could do was take it and accept whatever he was getting.

Y/n attacked the chief's daughter's neck while she did the same, nibbling and sucking on the soft skin on her neck or collarbones. Her fingers were rubbing the avatar's clitoris for her to come, feeling that she wouldn't last long on her own and Neytiri could feel the fluid escaping between her fingers a moment later, she released her own climax which, along with that of the young woman, made Jake fill Y/n full, ending deep inside her, painting her insides white.

The young avatar knew that this was not the end. Especially when the member inside her began to return to standing extremely quickly and lazy kisses were left on her breasts.

It was only a matter of time before they were to be engulfed in another vortex of passion. And no one was going to oppose it.

[peachsayshi]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH ok ok it’s me again! no but same i’m so “Choso on the brain” rn it’s not even healthy (leaving my acc visible cuz id really love to keep talking choso with you if you wanted! i’m not much of an active writer tho so ^^’)

I feel like Choso’s a good boy 🥺, or at least really tries to be. He knows he shouldn’t look. But the sounds of the shower running are almost deafening. The knowledge of your state behind the door, the steam traveling from the bathroom, making your scent all that much harder to ignore. It’s all an assault on his senses. Choso thinks he might explode, his body so tense it might snap from how hard he tried to keep himself sat on the edge of the bed.

(Truly don’t know how this would end up but i’d love to find out heheh)

(hiiii!! it’s nice to see you my fellow thirst buddy 🥹🧡 - also that’s absolutely fine! my ask box is open & I love chatting with you guys about our favorites 😭😭)

Oh, there are so many fun ways to play out this scenario 😏 because you’re right. Choso is a good boy. He’s a sweet boy. He does not want to overstep or come across as rude or untrustworthy. So, he breathes in to calm himself, his lashes fluttering because the scent coming from the bathroom is intoxicating. He slowly unties his hair, allowing it to fall to his shoulder then runs his fingers through the midnight strands in frustration. He undresses, removing his top in a meditative trance in an attempt to stop thinking about you lathering your smooth, soft skin in bubbling suds.

His cock twitches in his pants.

“Fuck,” he whispers; a rare swear leaving his lips. His shuts the door of the closet, his fingers pressing so hard into the wood he’s afraid he might hear it snap.

As desirable as the opportunity is, he refuses to take a peek at what’s going on behind the bathroom. He doesn’t even realize how tense he is until he hears the shower stop running.

Little trickles echo in the bathroom, the sound of your shuffling body drawing out an exhale from an exasperated choso.

What he doesn’t expect is for you to step out in a fluffy white towel cocooning your frame, the material barely covering his deepest of temptations. A sheen of dew makes your skin glow underneath the soft lighting, your anxious but curious eyes locking into his own.

“I forgot the bathrobe”

Your voice sounds so sensual despite the slight hesitation, a hesitation which might easily be mistaken as nerves. Choso clenches his fists by his side, the blood drawing to his thick member. His cheeks give him away instantly, burning a bright shade of red that makes him wish he could sink into the ground.

But he’s a good boy, like you said.

A sweet boy.

He simply clears his throat and opens up the cupboard to retrieve his robe. He hands it politely your way, mumbling “here you go” but hating the way his voice cracked.

He quickly side steps around you to head towards the bathroom, locking the door behind him. His back falls to the frame, and he slips his hand underneath his pants to squeeze his aching bulge while the other is fisted between his teeth as he stifles a moan of relief.

[ofsappho]

Let The Good Times Roll, Part 1 (of 2)

🔞 Captain John Price x reader 🔞

-

Captain Price is your sugar daddy and he takes you out for a night on the town. SMUT. Tags under readmore.

title from the Ray Charles song.

-

Tags: daddy kink, sugar daddy kink (the purest sugar daddy kink, harvested straight from the sugarcane), exhibitionism, voyeurism, service submission, like a lot of service submission, dom/sub, praise kink, degradation, 1950s housewife/1950s pin up girl kink, pet names, spit kink, ruination kink, dacryphilia, this specific chapter contains a blowjob, plus sized/squishy reader, john price loves curves

You’re curling your hair, carefully setting each ringlet in place with a pin as it cools, when you get the text.

P: Hey, baby. I’m in town for a bit.

Your phone dings with another notification.

P: Get your nails done tomorrow.

He likes you with red nails, long but not too long. Almond-shaped, elegant. Classy for a classy man. He also likes you in red lipstick, likes it when he smears it all over your face and makes your mascara run in messy black streaks. Like John Price’s personal pin-up model, picture perfect for him to ruin.

Your bank app tells you that you’ve just received a transfer. $1500.

You smile as you text him back. He must’ve missed you a lot with a gift like that.

You: Yes, Daddy.

In your personal life, you don’t think about punctuation. You fill your texts with emojis and curse words, and acronyms.

But he pays for proper and sets rules for you to obey. You’re always to use ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, full sentences, indulging him with the pleasure of your subservience.

You’re happy to oblige; his little games are fun for you both.

He probably won’t be here for very long if he wants you ready tomorrow, so you text your nail lady for an emergency appointment while rifling through your clothes to find something suitable.

You keep your gifted lingerie organized by client. It wouldn’t do to wear something someone else had bought you, after all.

John likes seeing your legs framed by thigh-highs and garter belts almost as much as he likes taking them off of you.

You have that peach silk set, embroidered with delicate lace, from a few months back.

When you tried it on for the first time, he couldn’t take his eyes off your tits and had you on your knees in an instant, thick cock down your throat so he could finish all over your breasts and the shining silk supporting them.

The garter belt emphasizes your waist, and the soft flesh of your thighs pours over the tops of the stockings.

“I like to see that I’m taking care of you, baby,” He’d said as he ran a reverent finger over the edge of the thigh-high. “I like my baby well-fed. Healthy.”

Then John had smacked your ass, watched it jiggle, and sunk his teeth into the red mark left behind.

What is that advice people give for job interviews? ‘Dress for the job you want’?

You flush as you think about being bent over his lap, your skin covered in bruises as dark as he can get them, or kneeling carefully at his feet while John watches you undo his belt without leaving a scratch on the leather.

Your black outfits are for when he wants to tame you, and your white ones are for when he wants to debauch you. Color is a toss-up.

P: I think you’d look lush in dark blue. Though you’re free to pick something else, love.

Ooh, dealer’s choice. That doesn’t happen often; he knows what he wants, and you love giving it to him, like, genuinely love it.

If Daddy’s over here trying to make his desires smaller and more socially appropriate, then his job must really be putting him through it.

There’s a blue dress he hasn’t seen you in yet. It’s dark midnight velvet with straps and a revealing sweetheart neckline, neatly tailored for your curves. It will simply be a toss-up kind of night.

Since he doesn’t follow up with an address, you assume he’s taking you to the same place he always does.

The nicest bar in one of the nicest hotels in the city, a golden Art Deco paradise straight out of the Great Gatsby, where he can tip highballs down your throat, and they play live jazz loud enough to hear from the smoking area.

P: 2000 hours.

Eight o’clock it is, then—the usual bar.

You’ve shared many a cigarette there, listening to a saxophone dance up and down impossible, brassy scales, the notes as rich and full as expensive red wine.

You: I can’t wait to see you.

-

You’re on time, as per usual. Actually, you’re a little early by about… ten minutes.

You can’t help it; you used John’s credit card to call a cab earlier than necessary, and you’ve been working yourself into a fit of giddy, nervous anticipation all day.

It’s been well over a year since your first… date, and John still makes you feel desperate, desperate for his smile and his hand on your neck when he kisses you.

Why, your nail lady even had to scold you to stop fidgeting while she filed down the acrylic extensions.

Your nail polish matches your lipstick, a beautifully deep red that brings out the colors of your eyes and makes your skin gleam. While your foundation is some incredibly long-wearing shit that can survive multiple rounds, you carve your winged eyeliner out of an easily-smeared eyeshadow and apply your runniest mascara.

Daddy was right. The blue looks perfect, and as you sit here, waiting for your date to show, you know that half the bar thinks you look perfect, too.

It’s too bad you’re happily spoken for. If any of those men looked up from your cleavage, they’d know by the luxurious pearl necklace draped over your collarbones with a diamond-encrusted clasp.

So you wait, tapping the point of your heel on one of the rungs of the overly-expensive (yet uncomfortable) barstool as you nurse a glass of water because you’d rather John order for you.

A man wearing a rich, spicy cologne rests his hand on the small of your back. “Sweetheart.” You squeal as you turn to see him.

John Price, as handsome as the Devil himself, dressed in a beautiful stormy gray peacoat over a black shirt, right across his broad chest, and freshly-pressed slacks.

The moment he sees your face, all dolled up and pretty and purely you, the tension in his shoulders softens, and his blue eyes wrinkle with a smile.

You can feel the warmth of his palm through your velvet dress, and your spine straightens like his touch is pouring liquid gold through your veins.

Before he can say anything else, you lean up to kiss him, your fingers tangling in the collar of his coat and his mustache tickling your skin. He laughs a little into your red mouth, eagerly kissing you back, one hand on the back of your neck and the other digging into your waist.

He tastes like smoke and something addictive, something you can’t identify but remember even when he’s not there.

When you finally, finally break apart, John drags his hand up your neck to your cheek, reveling in the silk of your skin under his rough, calloused fingers so that he can trace the edge of your kilowatt smile.

“You look nice tonight, Daddy,” You tell him, and you can feel the blush crawling up your cleavage and darkening your cheeks as he looks at you like he’s about to tear you out of this skin-tight dress.

His voice rumbles deeper than the bass player in the corner, plucking away at his instrument. “I do my best for my best girl.” John pinches the string of pearls around your neck with two fingers, and you know he remembers when he gave them to you.

Over half a year ago, when you agreed to be exclusive when he was in town and the bigger allowance that came with that.

John presented the necklace to you, carefully clasped it around your neck, then fucked you in three positions so he could admire how it moved when you came.

His hair is still damp from the shower he must have taken as soon as he hopped off his plane from… whatever awful corner of the earth his mysterious job took him.

Your Daddy is always handsome, no matter what, but he looks tired. Like he’s washed the dust off his skin but not his mind, like he hasn’t taken a break in ages.

“Hard day at work?” You tip your head back and slightly to the side, giving him as much access as he’d like to your throat and your curled hair falling over your shoulder. He briefly lets himself sink his teeth into the soft skin above your pulse.

Then John chuckles as you press yourself into him, well, specifically press your tits into him. “Like you wouldn’t believe,” He murmurs, his eyes glinting with mischief.

The bartender knows the two of you; you’re kind of infamous in this place, though they’d never dare tell you no. One of the things you liked about John from the start was how he tipped the waiters, the bartenders, and the cab drivers. Extraordinarily well, in cash.

“What is she having tonight, sir?” The bartender asks John, knowing full well that you’ve been waiting for this man and that John doesn’t like it when just anybody talks to you.

Daddy smiles again as you drop a chaste kiss on his cheek, his worry melting away with each passing second. “A lemon drop for such a sweet girl,” He orders in that marvelously rough British accent.

The live band in the corner kicks into a cover of a Nina Simone song, the piano twinkling in time with deep trombones echoing through the vaulted ceiling of the bar, and you know that it’s going to be a good night.

After he puts down his shiny black AmEx for your tab, John guides you to a booth in the corner. The leather upholstery creaks as you slide in first. He hangs his fine coat next to the table, then slides in after you.

It’s so private that no one can overhear while providing a great view of the whole joint.

As he works his way through a glass of fragrant, amber-colored Scotch, he unburdens his cares in your company.

Captain Price never goes fully into what he does, and you never ask. But his issues with his team aren’t news - you’ve listened to all sorts of shenanigans, all manner of frustrations they give him.

You listen, you nod in encouragement, and you place your hand on his when you know he needs it.

He pauses in his recollection to admire your freshly-done nails. “Gorgeous, as always,” John says before kissing your hand.

Earlier, he’d pushed his glass a little out of comfortable reach. Whether that was intentional or accidental, you’re unsure. “Thank you, Daddy.” You bend over him to retrieve it, your hair brushing his face and your mouth almost close enough for him to kiss, then deposit it elegantly in his waiting hand.

Once you’ve sat back down, he runs his calloused thumb across your cheek as he takes another sip. What a tease. You’re in public, and he’s still playing at chivalrous restraint, so you don’t kiss his finger like you want to. Like he wants you to.

After that, your concentration… dovetails a bit.

Shadows dance over his handsome, angular face. Shadows from drunk patrons and waiters wandering past, from the votive candles set at each table, from the dim golden floodlights reflecting off the glittering disco ball mosaic this bar calls a ceiling.

His voice trickles through your veins as heady as those awful cigars he likes, rough and raspy and prickling goosebumps on your exposed skin.

The cool condensation on the side of your glass brings you back to earth. Now’s not a good time to fantasize about what’s under his shirt, to wonder if he has any new scars healed enough for you to trace with your tongue.

After a long pause, John sighs and finishes his Scotch. “They’re a bunch of fuckin’ animals,” He says through a grimace.

“Daddy! Language,” You scold with more than enough good humor for the both of you.

The band is playing ‘I Put A Spell On You.’ You couldn’t have asked for better timing - his clear, scintillating gaze rests on your crimson-lipped smile, then trails so intimately up to your eyes that it’s like he’s stripping you naked in front of the whole city.

You feel him place one large hand on your thigh. “Nothin’ like you. You’re always good for me, hm? So well-mannered.”

You slide closer to let him tuck a strong, muscled arm around your waist. Now, John can bury his face in your hair and fill his lungs with your perfume. You know he likes it; sometimes, you send him handwritten letters in looping cursive spritzed with it, by his request.

He kisses your neck just below your earlobe. “Why, thank you. You know I just want to make you happy,” You giggle, sunshine-bright and giddy.

You feel his hand drift upward to where your dress starts in the center of your back. His fingers wander along the neckline, under one of the straps, as he tries to figure out what sort of wrapping paper he gets to take you out of later.

John settles his hand on the back of your neck.

His touch feels so warm and possessive that it brings a flush to your face. “You know what would make me even happier?” He asks softly, leaning in close as if he’s about to tell you a secret.

Those pretty blue eyes pin you in place. “I can’t do it if you don’t tell me, Daddy.” His fingers press into your skin slightly, a reflex borne of the fire you stoke when you call him that.

Then he collects your glass, half-full with freshly-squeezed lemon juice, some very smooth vodka, simple syrup, and a large, perfectly-square ice cube. John holds it up in a silent request, and you nod before eagerly parting your lips. The sweet, lemony cocktail goes down much better when he’s feeding it to you.

Daddy wipes away a stray drop at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You don’t need any prompting to sit forward and lick the sweetness from his skin.

You watch the blue of his irises slowly become eclipsed by his pupils at the sight of your pink tongue.

“See that bloke over there? The one that’s been-“

“Staring at me this whole time?” 

By now, the regulars have lost interest in the two of you. Either they’ve seen you with John before and know better, or they’re too involved with their own lives to be nosy.

But that dude…

You know his type. Some horribly miserable finance bro in an uncomfortable suit, a little boy who graduated college five years ago and hasn’t grown up since. He probably has active Tinder, Bumble, and Hinge profiles and a string of unsatisfied exes who’ve never orgasmed. The kind of guy who thinks you’d be falling all over yourself to talk to him, like you should be so honored he’s checking you out.

Even worse than all that, he’s the kind of guy who talks a lot of game about his money, stocks, crypto, whatever the fuck, but has none to pay you with. You don’t work for free.

His attention goes from lax and sweet to razor-sharp. “Hey. You know better than to cut me off,” Captain Price tsks as his palm spans your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks.

A little trouble is good trouble, and he rewards your sly smirk with a kiss. He pulls at your curls until you gasp, then presses his tongue against yours, stealing your breath and thoughts and replacing them with nothing but him.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” You say after he moves back, not even pretending to apologize genuinely.

All it takes for him to set you on his lap is one burly arm around your waist. Then you’re curled on top of him, something angrily hard under your ass and his bearded chin resting on your shoulder.

“Yeah, that one,” Daddy nods as he runs his hands over every inch of your body, every curve and roll and soft edge. His fingers wander up, and down your thighs, then he tucks the hem of your dress up a few inches to make you gasp.

In revenge, you nestle yourself closer, coincidentally grinding yourself on his hard-on.

He laughs before playing with the bejeweled clasp at the back of your neck. “What do you think is goin’ through his head, hm?” John whispers into your ear.

You watch him look at your mouth as if he’s about to kiss you again, but your sulk when he denies you is too cute for him to pass on.

Then he looks past your shoulder.

“Ah, I bet he’s thinkin’ ‘bout you, baby.”

You sit up straighter, push your cleavage closer to Daddy’s handsome face, and flip your hair over your shoulder.

Oh, he likes that. He likes that a lot; he kisses your cheek as he plants a hand on your throat, you press your thighs together and stifle a teeny-tiny moan.

“You think so?” You murmur, eyes fluttering when John’s beard rasps over your sensitive skin.

“I don’ blame him. I’ve been thinking about you for…” He trails off, as if realizing for the first time that he doesn’t need to re-read your letters and jack off to your lipstick-marked Polaroids. He can have you, right now.

You make up for the lost time with another kiss, pouring into it all the long nights where you hoped he was well, where you missed his laughter, cheeky humor, and the wonderful feeling of his affection turning you into a pile of mush in his capable hands.

What else could you want? He’s your Daddy.

“Thank you, love.”

Your nails scratch his freshly-trimmed beard before you trace the dimple in his cheek that appears when he smiles.

There’s not a hair out of place in his neat buzzcut; you can tell his clothes are fresh from a dry cleaning service.

“I missed you, too,” You tell him. Then you lean in and kiss the tip of his nose.

You still have so much affection left to give - it’s practically overflowing, buzzing under your skin, silently begging him to take you home.

Daddy grabs one of your wrists to pull your fingers away from their exploration of what’s under his shirt collar, and you settle down instantly.

Then he takes your chin between his calloused fingers. “He’s probably wondering what’s under this gorgeous dress, what those beautiful fuckin’ tits of yours look like…” John’s voice is hardly louder than a whisper, but it goes straight to your head, making you breathy and squirming with desire.

Your eyes close, blink open, your pupils dilate, and he devours every little movement. “Maybe he’s even dreaming about your perfect cunt. But that’s all for me, isn’t it?”

Then he presses his thumb between your lips until you open for him, your slick tongue eager against his skin. He hooks his finger behind your teeth, effortlessly holding you in place.

When you speak, shining drops of saliva fall from your stretched lips. “Yes, Daddy. Only- only for you,” You whine.

Price adds more pressure until it hurts to keep your mouth open. “You’re mine.” The sting is nothing compared to what you must do to get most of his dick down your throat.

Your head swims with the smell of tobacco and sandalwood, and his eyes glitter as he watches your eyes cloud. “I’ve always been yours.”

He replaces the finger in your mouth with his tongue, his teeth sinking into your lip, and each kiss stokes the need burning through your veins.

“How does his face look, Daddy?” You ask breathlessly, finally breaking the kiss. Much to Price’s consternation; he pouts and tries to capture your lips again. You’re full of giggles as you brush him off with a finger pressed to his mouth, your nail polish gleaming in the low light.

When he kisses your finger, his mustache tickles your skin. “Like I’m takin’ candy from a baby,” Price says.

Then he leans back and spreads his arms out along the top of the booth, all rippling shoulder muscles and sinew under his tailored shirt.

“Wanna give him a show?”

You chance a look out of the corner of your eyes and see the man’s dropped jaw and a complexion the color of spoiled milk.

“You know I do,” You reply as you arch your back and push yourself so close to Daddy that a ruler wouldn’t fit between you two.

Price waits one moment, then another. “Pick that up off the floor, won’t you?” And with immense gravitas and no small degree of showmanship, he drops his napkin over the side of the table.

A mandatory skill in your line of work is getting in and out of situations balanced perfectly on high heels. Barring some odd request for sneakers, or a specific kind of ballet flat worn by the client’s mother, heels are a must.

So you extract yourself from John’s lap and the booth with the grace of a ballet dancer, carefully sweeping your skirt under you so you don’t flash the whole bar.

Getting to your knees in a show of complete subservience on this slightly-sticky floor is a little much, you think, as you examine the tableau John wants you to present. Plus, this dress is dry clean only.

You settle for bending from the waist down at an angle that allows the man to see straight down your dress and tease everything else.

Your fingers pluck the napkin from the floor, then you pause. You look at the businessman through your eyelashes and watch him groan as his gaze traces the tops of your breasts in worship. You wink before standing to your full height.

Price watches you turn on one foot with blue eyes half-lidded, gratuitously checking out your curves, and a shit-eating grin tugging at the corners of his lips under his beard.

He lifts you by your hips onto his lap again so you’re straddling his thighs. “Good girl.” Daddy presses his face into the crook of your neck, inhales, his hands paw your hem and the edges of your stockings, just as you knew he would.

He kisses your cheek, bites the delicate skin of your neck until you’re trembling with pain and want. There’s something feral in the way he touches you, an insatiable hunger that would make him risk a public indecency charge with how fucking badly he needs you.

You gasp as you rake your nails through his scalp, messing up that beautifully coiffed hair. No one says you can’t be possessive, too.

You know who else is watching you; young women on unsatisfying Tinder dates, fantasizing about John Price dropping you and sweeping them off their feet. There are probably more than a few frustrated, neglected wives eyeing his charming, dominant manner like they’ll start tossing panties his way any second.

But he’s yours.

Price drags the strap of your dress down before shifting you right on top of the erection straining through his dress pants. “Daddy-“ You pant, throwing your head back and grinding down, fucking ruining his clothes with your messy, dripping arousal.

Your panties are fragile lace, to begin with, and when they’re this wet, all he would have to do is unzip his fly and tear them and push in-

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” Price hisses in your ear as he slides his large, veined hand up your thigh to grab a possessive handful of your ass.

When you kiss him, your nails leave red marks on his neck, then down his chest where you’ve popped open his top button. “Then take me home.”

Daddy helps you out of the booth first, naturally. Price is ever the consummate gentleman. He even helps slide your strap up and unwrinkle your skirt.

In a stroke of genius so smooth that you’d almost think he planned this, he plucks his coat from the hook and drapes it over one arm, hiding the prominent, stained bulge in his pants.

You walk to the bar together with your hand tucked in his elbow.

“Closing out, sir?” The bartender asks with a straight face.

Price nods. “Thanks.” You see his mouth flatten into a sly, troublemaking line. “Put the fellow in the gray suit’s drink on my tab. Looks like he could use a break.” He waves his hand at your voyeur like he’s dismissing a servant, lazy and unbothered.

The bartender’s straight face cracks momentarily with a conspiratorial grin. “Will do.”

“An’ that’s for you.” Once Daddy gets that gorgeous black AmEx card with no limit back, he sets a crisp hundred-dollar bill onto the bar.

The nice man takes it without hesitating. “You two have a good night. Come back anytime,” He says, dipping his head towards you in recognition—one service provider to another.

“Oh, we will.” Daddy steers you to the exit, nice and slow, so he can once again palm your ass through your tight dress for everyone to see.

You smile at the bartender, then at the poor guy you’ve been toying with all evening. “Bye,” You call over your shoulder.

The night air is freezing cold, and your breath comes out in foggy puffs. But it’s okay, because Price drapes his jacket around your bare shoulders before you can start to shiver, then draws you into a tight, warm hug as he waits for the valet to bring the car around.

You’re on your very best behavior in the unmarked black car. Your Daddy drives with both hands on the wheel, white-knuckled in anticipation, he makes full stops and uses his turn signal to change lanes. But the silence that falls over you like a veil is electric. It sparkles like static electricity, and his bright blue eyes dart to you every time you shift.

The walk through the pristine marble and gold lobby of this Ritz Carlton and the elevator ride to the top floor is a blur of meticulous propriety. John’s hand never leaves the small of your back, and he avoids brushing your bare skin. You smile politely at the elevator operator.

From the suite's floor-to-ceiling windows, the city skyline glitters beneath you like crushed stars thrown on a bed of black velvet.

And in these rooms, John Price is king.

The door closes with a heavy, decisive click.

There’s no need to be nervous, you tell yourself. You take the time you spend pulling his coat from your shoulders and hanging it up to regain composure.

Then you turn to face him. He’s watching you, always watching, muscled arms crossed one over the other. You’re the dancer in a music box resting in the palm of his hand. You are treasured, wanted, loved.

At last, he sighs, then scrubs his hand over his face. “It’s been a long day. Make me a drink, sweet thing?” John asks, moving towards the large armchair in the corner.

He finishes what you started with his shirt, untucks it after he gets it unbuttoned all the way, and rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. As he sits, you get a peak of the dark hair dusting his chest from the neckline of his undershirt.

“Yes, Daddy,” You murmur. Then you tilt your chin down the tiniest bit and look at him through your lashes, as shy as a newborn fawn. “I need some help with my dress.”

“Oh, princess,” Price sighs, his voice taking on a deeper, more sinful timbre. “Come here.” He doesn’t need to tell you twice.

You stand with your back facing him, so close that his knees bump your thighs. When you move your hair over one shoulder so it doesn’t get caught, Price’s fingers brush yours. His hands are steady as they pull your zipper down, inch by inch. Once he gets to the bottom, he sits back without saying a word.

The command couldn’t be more compelling if he had said it aloud.

You step away slowly and look over your shoulder as you do, your hands still holding the front of the dress to your chest. You turn smoothly and let the dress drop to the floor.

You’re a vision of full, rounded curves encased in the finest, most delicate lace, shimmering pale peach in the light of the lamp in the other corner. Your tits spill generously out of the cups of the bra, your (still soaked) panties highlight your soft belly, and Daddy lets out the most visceral, unhinged groan when he sees the fat of your thighs jiggle where your thigh-highs cut into your skin.

And then there’s his pearl necklace around your throat - the prettiest collar in the world.

The shadows around his crotch grow. “You’re too good to me.”

“Let me get you that drink, Daddy. An Old Fashioned?” You ask coyly. You’re walking towards the carved oak table in the middle of the suite’s living room before he can respond. It’s all part of the game.

There’s already a bottle of single barrel Kentucky Bourbon set next to a polished silver ice bucket, a carved crystal sugar bowl, an assortment of glasses, bitters, and an orange.

You make each movement as sensual and predatory as a leopard stalking prey; placing ice in the mixing glass, measuring the bourbon, you lick the spoon when you’re finished stirring, your eyes on him the entire time.

With a shining paring knife, you carve a sliver of peel from the orange and garnish his finished glass with it.

Now, to bring it to him.

Your heels barely make a sound on the thick, ornate carpet, and you find yourself before Price’s functional throne in only a few strides.

“On your knees.”

You go down happily, tucking your heels under your butt as you offer his drink.

Daddy takes it from your hand to hold it to the light and check the color. He brings it to his nose and inhales the scent of fresh orange zest and spicy bitters.

Finally, when he’s satisfied that you’ve made it properly, exactly how he’s taught you, Daddy takes a sip.

Your breath freezes in your lungs as you wait for his approval.

“Perfect, sweetheart. Just like you,” Price purrs, and you sag slightly on your knees in relief.

You crave him. You need his praise like water, like sunlight after a long, dark winter.

“Daddy- may- may I come closer?” You ask in a high-pitched, pleading voice.

He nods, and the face of his watch flashes gold as he pats his knee.

You ignore the carpet burn tearing into your skin as you shuffle forward to rest your cheek on his knee. Your body relaxes when Daddy begins to play with your hair, carding his rough fingers through your previously-neat curls. It’s pure bliss. All the thoughts melt out of your head from his ministrations, his blunt nails gently scratching your scalp. Ice clinks in the glass as he drinks, then he begins stroking your cheek. Price’s fingers wander across your temple before tracing the corner of your mouth.

You let out a small, contented noise, a barely-audible whine, and snuggle closer to his legs.

He sets the glass down on the side table, the sound frighteningly loud in the quiet. Just like that, every muscle in your body tenses, and your eyes snap open.

Daddy sits forward, cueing you to turn and face him. “See that, princess?” You are at eye level with the mouthwatering bulge in his dress pants, the one you were humping in the bar like a whore. “That’s because of you,” He hisses, his British accent turning the words sinister and gravelly.

Without realizing it, your thighs press together to relieve the flicker of newly-kindled ache in your cunt, and your jaw aches with phantom pain.

He takes your hand and places it over his dick. “I’ve been rock fuckin’ hard all night, and it’s your fault.” Your mouth fills with extra saliva when you wrap your fingers around his length in some fucked-up Pavlovian response, as your brain anticipates that you’ll need all the spit you can get.

You glance up at Daddy and see his handsome face set in a cold, distant mask, his mustache curling around his sneering lips. But his eyes- his eyes flash like a blue flame.

You’re too well-behaved to reach for his zipper yet, though you can’t deny that you’re a few moments away from begging for permission.

Price exaggerates his dismissive, drawn-out grumble. “Are you gonna do somethin’ about it?” He asks, raising a dark eyebrow as if to say that you should’ve already begun.

You blink your watery doe eyes, rounder and prettier than the moon, and wet your red-painted lips with your tongue.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” You begin, your voice quavering as you sink further down on your haunches. And with permission granted, you undo his fly in record time before slipping him out of his boxers.

John’s dick is a thing of beauty. And you would know; you’ve seen more than your fair share. So thick that you can barely wrap your fingers around him, veined, colored a deep, angry red.

You don’t take your eyes off his cock as you spit into your palm. You ensure Daddy has the perfect view as you pump your pretty hand over him, spreading your saliva as your mouth hangs open.

He throws his head back when you start moving your fingers, and a low groan echoes from his chest.

Then Price grins, a lazy, cocky expression that goes straight to your core, blue eyes lidded, and he sprawls out once more to pick up his glass.

He pretends he’s too busy enjoying his cocktail; you pretend you don’t know he’s watching in rapture. “Should be fuckin’ sorry, shit,” He moans as you bend to trace the thick vein on the underside of his dick with your precise, clever tongue.

You pull back from his shaft to flutter your thick, made-up lashes, a single strand of glimmering spit connecting your lips to him.

Then you start to work him into your mouth. You glide your tongue up and down in long, sensual strokes, then pop the bulbous tip of his cock between your lips. He likes it slow. He likes making you work for it.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it.” Daddy doesn’t touch your hair, not yet. He wants to. The glass shakes in his hand, and his knuckles go white with the effort of holding on.

Salt coats your tongue, then musk, your mouth filling with his taste. It’s so sinfully good that it sends your eyes rolling back and pulls a quiet whimper from your throat. You chase it, finally taking as much of him as possible into your mouth. Your fist works what doesn’t fit, moving in slick synchronization with your lips.

There’s slobber dripping down his length, onto your hand, on his pants, making a little damp pool on the fancy carpet.

You focus on relaxing your soft palate, balancing busting your jaw open on Daddy’s cock, and breathing. “Suck my cock like you’re sorry,” Price orders before drinking. You hollow your cheeks just as he swallows, creating a hot, wet vacuum sucking his soul out of him.

That sip turns into a choking cough, then a low, tortured groan.

The next thing you know, his large hand fists in your hair, tugging so hard on your scalp that you see stars.

“Don’t whine,” Price snaps. “Daddy’s too tired for your shit.”

He fucks your mouth with one hand and savors his drink with the other. He doesn’t even meet your tear-filled gaze.

Your knees shift on the carpet so you can rock your aching, swollen clit against the barrier of your panties.

Your hair knots and tangles around his fingers as he sits forward. Then he angles your mouth up to pump himself down your throat. “Choke- uh- on it. Choke- uh- on my dick,” Daddy groans, his face flushed with exertion.

The tears building in your eyes spill over your cheeks as you struggle to inhale. Each hiccup and desperate spasm of your windpipe draws pleasured, breathless sounds from Price.

You can’t- you can’t think, you’re trying to be good, and your jaw is on fire. Your tongue has gone numb, and you feel him harden further. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his pants, anything to hold your limp torso up.

There’s snot in your nose and precum spilling out of your stuffed cheeks, and his cock makes loud, explicit squelches as you gag and sob.

His fist trembles in your ruined curls. “Cry all you want, baby. Let me see those tears,” Price snarls.

He knocks back the dregs of his drink, then sets the empty glass to the side so he can cup your face. You barely notice him drag his fingers through the mascara bleeding down your cheeks and red lipstick smeared across your jaw.

Deliriously, you wonder if he’s in your esophagus now. It sure feels like it - your nose brushes the wiry, spit-soaked hairs at the base of his cock.

“Fuckin- your sloppy, slutty mouth feels so good.” His voice echoes in your ears, overlaid with your weak, helpless whines. You’re not sure if you’re begging for mercy or moremoremore.

Daddy grits his teeth as his thrusts grow erratic and feverish.

A stream of curses and jumbled words flow from his mouth. You tune them out for the most part. The oxygen deprivation makes you fuzzy and weightless, and slick from your empty cunt tracks down your thigh. You don’t need to think when he’s pounding your mouth like he loathes you.

You just have to relax, be his perfect fleshlight, and let your Daddy take care of the rest.

“Almost there, baby. Make me come.” The world comes back into ultra-sharp 4K focus. Shit is about to get fucked-

Daddy looks at you like he’s looking at an angel, like you’re a real princess, his pupils blown as large as a solar eclipse. He always tells you how beautiful you are after you suck him off. “Fuuuuuuck…” Price groans, face red and sweaty as he stiffens in the seat-

Salty cum fills your mouth, sticking to your tongue and coating the back of your throat, and you retch on instinct, clawing at his legs as you tremble and heave.

He pulls you down on his cock and holds you there through the last spurt. “Swallow. Now,” Daddy barks before releasing your hair.

You comply mindlessly, gulping as you sag to the floor.

Price reaches down and picks you off the carpet like you weigh nothing. He settles you into his lap and wraps himself around you as tight as he can, helping you bury your face in the crook of his neck. “There’s a good girl,” Daddy coos as he drops delicate kisses on your damp forehead and rocks you in his arms.

The pearl necklace is covered in a mixture of fluids you don’t even want to think about. You’re pretty sure all the cum you couldn’t swallow dripped there. How fitting. If it didn’t hurt to laugh, you would.

“What do you say?”

You poke your head up. “Thank you for giving me your cum, Daddy,” You say hoarsely, trailing your nails through the hair on his chest.

He kisses you softly, so softly that your heart aches. Your mouth is sore and swollen, and he soothes the pain with gentle touches, his tongue swiping across yours to taste himself. John pulls you so close that you can feel his heart thundering in his chest, full-out gallop, and you sigh sweetly. One of his hands rests on your thigh, then absentmindedly fiddles with your stocking.

“You’re welcome, princess,” He tells you before kissing your nose and chuckling when you wrinkle it.

John is so warm, so strong and powerful, and the feeling of his skin settles your nerves better than a nicotine high.

His lips bear the faintest tint of pink. You swipe your thumb over them and come back with a trace of pigment from your lipstick.

Daddy smiles when he sees it. He slides his fingers under your chin to steal another kiss.

“You’re so gorgeous like this. Absolutely perfect,” He whispers.

“I’m all messy.” Messy is an understatement. You look defiled. You’ve cried off your eyeliner, and somehow, some of it has ended up on your bra. You don’t even want to think about how your underwear looks, probably stretched from your grinding and so wet they’re two shades darker than before.

He brushes your tangled hair from your neck with adoration. “Beautiful girl.” He swipes his fingers along your necklace, gathering the remaining cum, and feeds it to you like a rare delicacy. Once you’ve sucked his fingers clean, Price bends to kiss your neck and wreath hickies on your skin.

You gasp and throw your head back as pain runs with pleasure in your veins.

“And a good drink. Your best one yet,” He tells you before sinking his teeth into one of the dark marks to ensure it lasts.

Your vocal cords protest when you cry out. “Hurts. Ouch.” Your lips twist into a cute little pout, one that Daddy happily kisses away.

“Poor princess can’t talk ‘cause I came down her throat? We can’t have that, her voice is as beautiful as she is.”

Your eyes light up with excitement as Daddy continues. He intersperses his words with wandering hands that slide under your bra straps before hunting for the clasp.

“Let me make it up to her, hm?”

-

TO BE CONTINUED

tagging: @certainlynotasimp @fruitymoonbeams-blog @averyyreads @redrumarsenic @shroomje @kittybatman04

[venusandsaturnsrings]

Venus my dear have you ever thought about fox hybrid childe? Like the fluffy ears in that mess of orange hair and his already sluttaly low rise pants hanging just under the base of his tail? With both a happy trail that runs down towards his cock and one that runs a short length down his back towards the mess of fluffy orange and white that is his tail? Like a full on feral hybrid, and why not add that good ol' knot on his cock too just cause I can!

Now think about fox boy childe and him bring so eager to have you swallow his cum that he knows your mouth, knowing full well you won't be able to take it and will be stuck there, nose pressed into the wet mess of his happy trail, eyes rolling back and breathing shallow as he watches how you struggle to swallow his load.

Or maybe....

Childe smirking down at you as he pulls you forward and make sure you feel how he swells behind your teeth before he comes, fingers tangled in your hair as he sighs, only now that you're truly stuck on his cock dose he release your hair, chuckling, as he watches you and your absolutely wrecked appearance, eyes rolled back in your head, hands falling from his hips, where your pathetic attempts to push him away had failed, just watches how your arms drop limply next to your sides.

Your blurry vision just starting to fade in and out, and the last thing you are actually aware of before you pass out, is one of his hands petting you gently and the other wiping the tears from your cheek as he coos down at you, ears flicking and twitching as another pulse of his cum floods down your throat.

Just think about fox hybrid childe...

ermm… me vs hoardin all of cors asks!! for me n me only!! but… i suppose i can share… cor i luv u i’m givin u a kiss rn mwah mwah!! U^ェ^U

fox childe thoughts!! nothin too fancy just the fuzzy lil guy bein evil wif his knot!! point form headcannon format :3

fuzzy fella!! he’s used to running around in without having to worry about how he’s dressed. hybrids like himself get certain privileges like less people caring about how they present. sure, it’s based in the idea that hybrids are ‘less than human’ but Ajax is like most in which he’ll use it to his advantage. he love love love loves walking around shirtless.

he’s about 6’2, bulky, and muscly. being part animal means he has to stay well in shape for hunting and the many other physical activities that are required of him. his tummy does have some chub!! the tummy chub is good for keeping him warm and healthy through the winter months. also most certainly a hairy boy; a happy trail no one can match.

loves having his tails and ears washed!! please do wash, condition, dry, and brush them he will make a little purring type noise like a motor. he tends to be a bit messy with everything he does, eating, playing, and existing, but a clean and fluffy fox is a happy fox!!

when it comes to his… more primal urges… he’s well aware that full humans aren’t built to accommodate certain characteristics. that won’t stop him from forcing it, though. he’s born to express his needs a certain way and will make it happen even if it hurts you both.

Ajax is already most certainly well endowed. about 8” hard with an upwards curve. he’s got a bit of thickness too but what’s really thick is his knot. his cock is great for splitting you open and pumping you full and it’s also delightfully heavy in your mouth.

he is an unashamed face-fucker. this does loop back into his base instincts of ‘cock in warm wet hole? need to go hard and fast to breed mate,’ though it’s also a personal preference of his. Ajax could hold back if he really wanted to but… why would he when you look so pretty covered in tears with your face turning blue?

lover of messy head. with the way he’ll be bucking into your throat, you’ll already be producing plenty of saliva and tears to moisten his dick but it’s not uncommon for him to spit down onto it as well to make it extra filthy. all fluids will end up being swallowed by you, and maybe him, in the end.

him… knotting your mouth… i am admittedly a bit hot and bothered by this… think of it sort of like sticking a lightbulb in your mouth. it can go in find but, you have to break it to get it out. Ajax’s knot will go in your mouth fine but, you’ll have to wait for it to go down to get it out.

he gets off on seeing you sputter around the massive load of seed lodged in your throat that you can’t properly swallow. he’ll most definitely twitch and shoot out a couple more little bursts while watching you struggle and whimper over everything shoved in your face.

Ajax won’t be completely cruel about it, you’ll still get plenty of praise and pats to your head!! it’s almost enough for you to ignore how he sets his hips fully to your face and covers your nose with his fingers. truly, he does want you to pass out.

he just thinks it’s cute when your cunts been fucked so nice that you end up knocked out so he’s gotta figure out some way to make that happen when it’s your throat he’s fucking!! doesn’t mind forcing it at all.

you’ll wake up clean and with a big fox man curled around you. he’s very easy to forgive when he licks your face as kisses and wags his tail; his own set of charms.

foxboy childe 100/10 a very wonderful lil guy!! mean, sure, but very loving… and needy… and aggressive… and protective…

i wish i had better thots tew add but… cor u have done my brain in once again!! i jus wan my lil fox guy :((

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Eren Yeager x f!reader x Zeke Yeager [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] I basically wrote a bunch of vignettes and threw in some wordy headcanons. This is a repost. I wrote it in like 2022. [ SYNOPSIS ] You've just adopted two disasters, I mean dogboys. [ WORD COUNT ] 3.2k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, hybrids (duh), threesome (mmf), knotting, cigarettes (Zeke), voyeurism, exhibitionism, jerking off, fingering, teasing, nipple play, creampie, impact play (Zeke receiving), dacryphilia (Zeke’s the crybaby), panty sniffing, thick Yeager dick, cum play, Zeke has grey eyes because I'm addicted to the manga version of him, this fic is so ridiculous like don't take it seriously. Just enjoy the ride.

When you adopted Eren and Zeke you fully expected to get two normal dogs. The ad on Craigslist purported two mutts, related but not from the same litter. They were a bonded pair that could not be separated. It claimed they had all their shots and were totally healthy, but not neutered which was emphasized for some strange reason. You made a mental note to get that taken care of, if the dogs were to become yours.

You responded to the listing expressing interest. You listed off a few qualifications: you were an experienced dog owner, you had a large yard they could play in, and you didn’t smoke. You received a response almost immediately.

Yard sounds cool. The smoking shit doesn’t matter. Do you have cable or do you stream everything? Would appreciate a response asap k thnx.

You could not imagine why they needed such information, but regardless you responded.

Hi! I have basic cable and Hulu. Is that okay?

Your answer was deemed acceptable. Phone numbers were exchanged and you were asked to meet at a local park the next day. It was a great relief that they wanted to meet in a public place. 

That night you couldn’t sleep. You were simply too damn excited. The sun couldn’t come up soon enough. It felt like it purposefully slowed down. Minutes felt like hours. It was unbearable. Of course by the time you were able to drift off, your alarm chimed and it was time to go get your dogs.

You arrived at the park right on time. There were a few kids running around with their parents trailing after them and two young men standing off in the distance, but not a single person with two dogs. You waited around for ten minutes until you got the nerve to call the person. It was perplexing to hear someone else’s phone ringing while you made the call.

“Yeah?”

You heard the voice through the phone and in the air.

“Uh… Wait, are you here? I think I see you.” You squinted and took a better look at the two men loitering. “Where are the dogs?”

One of the men pointed at you which caused the one on the phone to hang up and wave you over. You made eye contact with one of the parents, hoping that would be enough incentive to come to your aid if needed.

“Hi,” you said as you dropped a pin to a friend.

Someone, anyone, needed to know where you were lest you get the Law and Order: SVU treatment The two men looked normal enough. Both were rather tall and well built. One had long, silky chocolate-colored hair. The other was of the wavy, flaxen persuasion. You noted they were both wearing hats: the brunette wore a denim bucket hat and the blonde a nondescript baseball cap. 

“Oh hey, sorry for hanging up. I figured since you’re here and my phone is running low on minutes,” the brunette said.

“That’s fine. Where are the dogs?”

The two men looked at each other and then back at you.

“You didn’t say anything about the hybrid thing in the ad, did you?” the blonde asked, hanging his head.

“Do you think anyone would’ve responded otherwise?”

“What hybrid thing?” you questioned.

The men redirected their attention towards you.

“We’re th—”

“We’re the dogs, alright!” the brunette exclaimed.

He dramatically pulled his hat off, revealing two brown button ears. He then proceeded to knock the baseball cap off the blonde by smacking the bill upwards. He too had little button ears. You were filled with conflicting emotions. You were attracted to their good looks and you thought their ears were cute. But you were also disappointed they weren’t normal dogs.

“Listen, we understand if—”

The brunette interrupted him again. “I don’t! Please take us home with you. I promise we’ll be good. Or I will at least. Honestly you can just take me in. I don’t even know who that guy is.”

“I’m his brother.”

“No he isn’t.”

You stared at them, debating whether or not you should take them in. You didn’t have the biggest home, but you could probably get creative and make it work. However there was still a twinge of paranoia. You weren’t certain you could trust them. But on the other hand you could use the company.

“You can both come live with me. The ad said you were a bonded pair so…”

“Eren, you said we were bonded?” the blonde asked, blushing and eyes sparkling.

“Don’t. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Uh, okay! You guys ready to go then?” you rallied, trying to prevent any conflict from brewing.

Their eyes lit up and their bushy tails started wagging. You were powerless against them. They were yours and you were theirs. You couldn’t wait to get them home and let them get cozy. And more importantly shower. They both looked a little rough around the edges.

On the way home you couldn’t help but stare at their ears, curious as to how they felt. You tried to resist the urge to pinch them, but it became too big of a burden to bear.

“Can I touch—”

“Yes,” they sighed.

Zeke was the more affectionate of the two, but only towards you and Eren. He was pleasant yet standoffish with others, keeping most people at an arm’s length. He had no issues wearing a collar and actually preferred it, unlike Eren. It gave Zeke a sense of security, something his life often lacked. He was incredibly intelligent, but prone to getting lost in his own thoughts. And he preferred spending his days in the yard sprawled out in a hammock with no shirt on, chain smoking and reading.

Eren was a bit of a wild one. He only wanted attention on his own terms, but was open to getting it from anyone he was friendly with. He tended to be a bit of a loner, spending most of his time outdoors. He liked being out in the woods, hiking on balmy days. He was significantly more active than Zeke though you suspected that had something to do with him being younger. Eren was also a bit more hardy than his brother, and lacked the seasonal allergies Zeke had been cursed with since he was a pup.

Since neither of them worked they tended to play housewife while you toiled away at work. Zeke was on laundry duty because Eren was a chronic clothes shrinker. Eren did the cooking, priding himself on his knife skills. He was constantly baking bread with a preference for sourdough. Zeke wasn’t a bad cook by any means, but he lacked the passion Eren exuded. He preferred to clean anyway. It wasn’t uncommon to wake up in the middle of the night to pee and find him scrubbing the toilet.

Depending on where you were in your menstrual cycle, they would both get incredibly clingy and flirtatious. If one of them was feeling particularly bold they’d rub their hard cock on you while you slept. It didn’t bother you much. You had developed a bit of a crush on them. Your sick enjoyment fed off of their desperation. Even the more traditionally annoying behaviors were still a turn on. Like how your underwear was prone to going missing. You’d find it crumpled up and stiff in the strangest places. You never bothered to ask because you didn’t want to embarrass them, or give them any incentive to stop.

Your first tryst with them couldn’t have happened under sillier circumstances. It was late one night. You and Eren had crawled into bed while Zeke stayed up watching the Planet Earth episode on caves. Eren fell asleep almost immediately after pulling you into his warm embrace. You nuzzled your face in his neck, letting your nose graze his Adam’s apple.

Just as you were about to drift off Zeke clumsily opened the door. He skulked around before hopping into bed. You were hoping he’d spoon you, putting you in a dogboy sandwich. But alas, he was going to sleep beside Eren.

Zeke yawned and snaked his arms around his brother. You struggled to hold back a laugh as he wriggled and pulled his brother close. Eren groaned and tried to shake Zeke off.

“Don’t be mean,” Zeke whined.

Zeke then proceeded to grope Eren’s chest.

“Oh… That’s not right,” he said, palming Eren’s pectoral muscle.

“I was waiting for you to notice. Can you please stop rubbing your dick on me?”

“I didn’t know it was you.”

“You couldn’t smell me?”

“You smelled like her shampoo. My—my allergies have been acting up. I can’t smell straight.”

“Makes sense considering there was nothing straight about what you just did.”

“You guys are too much,” you yawned, rolling over onto your back.

Eren fixed his verdant gaze on you. Zeke rested his chin on Eren’s head and did the same. They looked hungry, starved practically. Zeke reached out and booped your nose.

“What?” You asked, laughing.

“I’m bored,” Zeke sighed.

Eren nodded in agreement.

“It’s nighttime. Just fall asleep,” you muttered.

“I doubt he could fall asleep with that raging boner.”

Zeke immediately turned pink and rolled over, trying to mask his shame. He pulled the sheets over his head and sighed heavily.

“Maybe you should help him take care of it?” Eren purred.

“I wouldn’t be averse to that,” Zeke concurred, his voice muffled by cool cotton.

You cleared your throat. While you were very much aware your precious dogboys wanted to bury their noses in your cunt, you never actually considered sleeping with either of them. You weren’t even sure what that would entail.

“If you fuck Zeke, I get to watch.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” Zeke said dreamily.

Eren grumbled. He wasn’t the best at accepting Zeke’s affection, especially when it was a bit too eager.

“I guess I’m up for it. I can’t remember the last time I fucked someone.”

“I’ll be gentle. Unless you, uh, don’t want me to be. I’m more than prepared to destroy you. I can make it so that no one will ever want you again after I’m through with you.”

“Criiiiiiiiinge,” Eren yawned.

“Be nice,” you chastised, pinching one of Eren’s velvety ears.

“So?” Zeke asked expectantly.

You could hear his tail thumping against the mattress. How could you deny such an excitable boy?

“I’m down.”

Zeke jumped out of bed and started getting undressed. You and Eren made eye contact and laughed.

“Desperate much?”

“He’s not desperate. Just dumb and eager,” you laughed.

Zeke pouted as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his god-like form. His chest was covered with hair, the same color as a fertile field of wheat. You never got used to seeing him shirtless even though he often went without one. Every time was like the first time, just you in utter awe of his beautiful body.

“You can get undressed faster than that,” Eren goaded.

Zeke pulled off his boxers and balled them up, beaning them at Eren.

“Happy?”

“Not as happy as you apparently,” you chuckled.

Zeke’s cock was hard as a rock, nearly sticking straight up. It was thick, veiny, and of average length which was a relief. Zeke glanced down at it and then made eye contact with you. It was clear he sought approval; he needed validation.

“Very nice, baby.”

“Baby? You never call me baby.”

“That’s because you’re not my baby, Eren.”

“Yeah, Eren, you’re not her baby.”

“Well, what are you two waiting for?” Eren asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He took the quilt with him, wrapping it around himself.

Zeke returned to the bed and got on top of you. He reached under your nightgown and peeled off your underwear. He sniffed them before he handed them to Eren who did the same. Zeke slipped his hand between your thighs and spread apart your folds. He pushed his rough fingers into your cunt and rubbed your clit with the pad of his thumb. He maintained eye contact the entire time. His grey gaze was heavy with ardor. His face couldn’t have been closer to yours. You reached up and stroked his cheek, feeling his lush beard. He hummed happily and continued to finger you.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, curling his fingers inside you.

A “mhm” was all you could muster. It seemed to be enough for Zeke because he beamed and kissed you. To say you weren’t ready was an understatement. He pushed his tongue past your teeth and rolled it against yours. His lips were soft unlike Eren’s which tended to be chapped. A little, joyous whimper emanated from you as his breath lilted into your lungs. It tasted of tobacco and his overpriced, spearmint toothpaste. You wanted him to consume you.

“Can one of you make some noises or something? You guys are too quiet. It’s weird,” Eren heckled.

Zeke broke the kiss. “You do realize not everyone sounds like they’re in Bang Bros video, right?”

Eren was quiet.

“Maybe so. But c’mon. Do something interesting.”

Zeke placed his hands on the small of your back and lifted you forward. He flicked his tongue against your firm nipple. You draped your arms over his shoulders and dragged your nails down his back. You were careful not to dig too deep. You weren’t interested in drawing blood. Zeke was too delicate on an emotional level. His life had been hard enough. You knew he wanted to be pampered, not mangled.

He didn’t seem to hold you in the same regard because he began to bite your nipple. It wasn’t very hard, but still you yelped.

“Hey! Don’t hurt her, you dingus,” Eren teased.

He pulled on Zeke’s wagging tail.

“What good does hurting me do?” He asked ruefully.

You ran your fingers through his soft hair and gave it a tug.

“Not you too.”

“It’s not my fault it’s so fun to be a little mean to you… Do you want us to stop?”

“No,” Zeke mumbled. “I—I like it.”

Eren pulled on his tail again. Zeke groaned and buried his face into your neck. You patted his head and told him how good of a boy he was.

“How good?” He asked, nipping at your neck.

“The best.”

“What about me?” Eren asked.

“You’re a good boy too, I guess.”

Zeke smirked and began to stroke the length of his cock. He gently nudged you back down, leaving you supine. He rubbed his cocktip on your throbbing clit, leaving a few droplets of precum behind. Eren sighed and moved so that he was lying next to you.

“I needed a better view,” he admitted.

“Fair enough,” Zeke groaned as he slid his cock inside you.

Eren stuck his hand under his sweatpants and began to jerk off. You were ecstatic he wanted to watch Zeke split you in two.

Zeke’s thrusts were slow and deliberate. He let his cock gradually stretch out your tight cunt. You loved the fullness you felt, how his cock swelled inside you. It was a sensation you’d never been blessed with before. You felt like you were seeing stars as Zeke picked up the pace. His balls slapped against your taint, leaving a stinging pain in their wake.

“You can fuck her harder than that,” Eren heckled through gritted teeth.

His sweatpants had a sizable wet spot.

“Leave me alone,” Zeke mumbled.

You pinched his ear and gently pulled on it.

“Are you gonna cry, Zekey?”

“Please do not call me that. And what the? No, I’m not going to cry.”

“You do when you jerk off with her underwear,” Eren laughed.

Zeke lost his rhythm; his thrusts became erratic. His cock was hitting your cervix. You felt a dull ache in the depths of your cunt.

“That was one time. I don’t always cry after I come.”

You grabbed his ass and pulled his body closer to you. He let out a low groan as you dug your nails into his voluptuous ass.

“Come on. Cry for me, crybaby,” you teased.

Zeke knitted his brow and didn’t heed your remark. He just kept thrusting away. You felt your orgasm cresting the horizon. You bucked your hips against Zeke.

Eren moaned and ended up coming all over his hand. He licked his palm clean. You were disappointed he didn’t let you lap up his cum.

“Hey, Zeke,” Eren said, catching his breath.

Zeke asked, “What is it now?”

Eren got up and yanked on Zeke’s tail.

“Goddammit!”

“Pull on it again,” you moaned, digging your nails deeper into his plush ass.

Eren was more than happy to comply. A few tears fell from Zeke’s starry, grey eyes.

“Does it hurt, baby?”

“Nah,” he coughed out as Eren tugged on it again. “Maybe a little.”

“Should we g—go easier on you?” You stammered, trying to stave off your orgasm.

“No. Keep doing it.”

Eren moved one of your hands away from Zeke’s ass cheek and he gave it a firm spank.

“Eren!” Zeke yelped.

“Too hard?”

“Just a fucking little!”

You stroked Zeke’s beard, directing his attention on you. He sighed as you tightened around the length of his cock. He gritted his teeth as you writhed underneath him. Eren spanked his ass again, but this time it was gentler. It was inaudible and your little, flaxen dogboy didn’t cry out in pain.

“I’m gonna—“ You desperately moaned.

Zeke gazed down at you; his eyes were dark with lust. They were the color of clouds right before a thunderstorm. You wanted to get caught in his downpour. He fucked you harder than he had before. His cock continued to swell. Your juices flowed from your cunt, intermingling with Zeke’s precum.

“Is he crying?” Eren asked.

You were too caught up in your orgasm to humor Eren’s relentless teasing. Your toes curled and you saw white as you came.

“You look so pretty taking my co—Fuck! Eren!”

You glanced at Eren who had once again pulled on Zeke’s tail. You giggled as Zeke grunted. You used your thumb to wipe away the little tears that had collected in his lower lashes.

“Are you gonna come for me like a good boy?”

He nodded and bucked his hips. A steady stream of cum filled your cunt to the brim. You were stuffed full of its milky warmth and his throbbing knot. You held him close to your body as he finished. Eren, being the little shit he was, tugged on Zeke’s tail one last time. The blonde let out a few whimpers before he collapsed. He was careful not to put his full weight on you.

“Can I come for you like a good boy now?” Eren asked.

“You gotta w—wait a bit. I’m stuck in her for the time being.”

You rubbed Zeke’s ass and he nuzzled his face into your neck. He could be so affectionate. If you ever tried to tell anyone, they’d never believe you. The only people that ever saw this side of him were you and Eren.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll get your turn,” you said, gesturing to Eren to cuddle up beside you.

Eren did and weaseled his way under your arm. You gave him a little peck on the cheek. It would only be a matter of time before Zeke could pull out and let Eren have his turn.

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

I have all these incredible request prompts that want to turn into something but my jobs have got me exhausted! I'm having a hard time not just going asdfghjkl b-bellies

So, the best I can offer you for now is my latest brain worms about fat mechanic Steve Rogers and diner owner Bucky Barnes.

Steve starts out as this burly mechanic, always in his dusty, dirty dark blue coveralls and work boots with grease stains on his face and hands. His blond hair is fucking mess so often from running his fingers through it and getting it stained and rumbled. So, Steve is just this huge dude working on cars and trucks and even big rigs because-! His auto shop is next to the truckstop just off the interstate.

I can not stress this enough. He's a big, capable guy. Lifting heavy shit with teeth-gritted grunts, putting in the elbow grease to turn the most locked up lug nuts, sweating and swearing his way through jobs that look grim but always pulling the car or truck through. He's a damn good mechanic, so much so that he has clients that want to repay him. Truck drivers that come back through after he did them a solid with a damn good job on their rigs will bring tokens from other states, drop off homebaked food if their significant other happens to live around there, or some of them even bring gift cards. Gift cards like one to the newly opened diner just across the street in the heart of the actual truckstop.

It's an all-American diner, so at first, Steve passes it up. He can eat American food whenever he wants! He can at least make burgers on the grill. He isn't a totally helpless cook. C'mon. But when he has a gift card and works late for a client to get them back on the move... he doesn't have dinner with him, so... might as well try it.

The diner is seemingly run by this one guy, Bucky, despite how much foot traffic this place has to get with all these truckers and road trippers stopping in. Bucky's a damn fine cook, though, Steve finds that out quick. Everything he orders for dinner is moan out loud good.

The first night, he has a greasy, heavy American food feast. A bubbly coke with a thick bacon double cheeseburger and a side of heavy loaded fries. For dessert, he splurges on a wide slice of pie and a healthy scoop (scoops, really) of ice cream. Before he leaves, taking time to digest before he has to walk back, Bucky even sweet talks him into adding a milkshake to his dessert. Steve has to eat it with a spoon, the shake is that thick. It's so sweet that he can feel it in his teeth.

Bucky's food has to be enhanced somehow, though, 'cause he can't stop. It's too good. Steve's never lost control with food like that before. Woof. Steve waves it off that first night, though, he'll work off the calories easy. It's just one night.

It's not just one night.

Steve first goes back every once in a while, which turns into a few times a week to every day for lunch to... he has lunch there and then heads back to the diner for dinner, too, even if he's not staying late at the shop. Sometimes, he has dinner at the diner, and by the time he gets home, he's hungry again. So he makes himself dinner, too.

With all the greasy, stick to your ribs diner food Steve's coveralls change from baggy to fitted to tight.

His whole body gets wider. His thick, strong neck welcomes a friend in the form of a thickening double chin. His shoulders start to slope, soft and fat, not hard chistled stone. His big arms are bigger, muscle covered with this layer of pudge. His chest gets soft, so soft that his stretched nipples start to poke through his grease and sweat stained white undershirt when he rolls his coveralls down and ties them around his (fatter) waist on hot afternoons. His belly and waist are the real goners, though. His butt rounds out, and his thighs pack on enough to jiggle - something he's never experienced before - but nothing comes close to his gut. And it's a GUT. Round and firm and huge.

Even when he hasn't just stuffed himself to the point of groaning and sweating with excess, his fingers don't sink into that fat. It's hard fat that gets in the way. He presses himself harder and harder against the cars and trucks he works on, trying to get as close as he wants to be to work, but he can't get there. His belly doesn't squish nearly as much as he thought it would but... maybe he's just never empty. His stupid belly's in the way. It's in the way constantly! When he's zipping up his coveralls (and when they're already done up, his rounding stomach presses against the heavy fabric like it's trying to break free), when he's on a creeper under the chassis, he has to jack up the car more than normal now, just to make sure he fucking fits underneath the thing, when he's looking in a client's trunk for a spare tire or whatever and he has to bend over and there's his gut, oof, when he's taking the vehicle for a test drive and he has to suck in to attempt fitting behind the wheel... usually, he ends up having to adjust the whole seat, and still, his gut pushes up against the wheel. His gut can't stop being in the way but... Steve can't stop eating. He's weak for Bucky's cooking even if it's making him feel heavy duty himself, or like his body has gone from a regular truck to a big rig.

He feels it most after he's gorged himself on another unending diner meal, leaving the place bloated unbelievably, having had to unzip his coveralls or burst the zipper with all the pressure of his overfull belly. He waddles back across the street to his shop, stomach gurgling and churning audibly the whole way. Hell, as he goes, he's stifling burps behind his fist from jostling his gut too much, half-running across the road to get outta the way of traffic. He's not getting any work done like this. He can't. Too full.

He's gonna fucking lie on the floor and wait for his bloat to go down or something. His coveralls are unzipped to his big waist, and his undershirt has rolled up to expose his tight, shiny, stretch-marked gut where it sticks out between the open half's of his coveralls. Someday soon, he's not gonna be able to fit into those things. Too, soon, he's gonna get stuck in a car or underneath it or some shit, he swears. It's worth it for that food, though, God, he's addicted to it. The greasy, salty, fatty flavors. The aching fullness of too much. The way Bucky stares at him like he wants to have him for dinner as he sweats and groans and burps through his hearty meals. Lunch and dinner.

Suddenly, with an uncontrollable craving in the pit of his overgrown stomach, Steve wonders what the breakfast menu of the diner is - he's never had it. Maybe... if he heads home now, he'll get to bed early enough to digest in his sleep and wake up in time to make it here for breakfast? He can't drive with his belly in the way like this, though! What if... what if he sleeps in his shop and gets to the diner first thing? Then he can eat his heart out before work 🥵

[shells-of-callista]

[Before Amber gets back to the spa....]

Callista can't fall asleep.

She can't get Elysia's words out of her mind, nor the reflection in the mirror. They both haunt her, every time she tries to rest in the quiet and every time she closes her eyes.

The girl with freckles and scratches over her face, and a large thick braid draped over her shoulders.... how could one with eyes so full of fear and anger still somehow look healthier and happier than who Callista is now? That doesn't feel fair.

She peeks out the window at the stars outside..... it's a beautiful night tonight.

.... I need to wash my hands.

Callista carefully unlocks the door and sneaks past Elysia to a washroom. She wishes she was better at sneaking around, but thankfully, Elysia is out cold at this point. Probably for the better.

Her vision grows blurry with tears as she watches her friend sleep. She wants nothing more than for her to be happy and healthy, and NOT try and handle all of this shit that Callista started in the first place.....

All my fault. This is all my fucking fault.

Callista starts washing her hands at the sink. In the dim lighting, her vision makes out blurry red splotches over her fingers and palms...... Callista scrubs harder.

It's not enough.

She tries hard to tell herself it is, and her hands are clean, but to no avail. The soapy suds still look red. Perhaps it's just her mind playing tricks on her, but she doesn't care.

Callista hears Elysia's voice through the sound of running water.

“I mean, you had to doom one of them. Your family or your friend.”

"you had to doom one of them."

"you had to."

"your family or your friend."

"family or friend."

"one of them."

"you had to."

".... there wasn't any other way."

The words stab at her throat. She never wants to say that again, never wants to admit to any kind of acceptance that this was unavoidable. It absolutely was. There were many paths she could have taken, and she chose the worst one imaginable.

Callista barely notices when the water in the sink starts to actually turn red, nor does she notice the raw stinging on her hands as the blisters rip away. It's not enough, not enough, not enough, not enough. Her mind grows hazier, dizzier, the voice and sounds are growing further.....

Callista's eyes shoot open as her body falls on the ground, the impact jolting her back to reality. She sits up, rubbing her shoulder and looking around.... did she just faint? She's not sure.

Regardless, the pain starts to set in. Callista winces, gripping her skirt to try and stop the bleeding. It always hurts more than she expects.... but in the end, at least it tears her away from continuing to hurt herself.

With a sigh, Callista reaches up and turns off the sink, leaving her in silence once again. It's a welcome absence of sound, until Elysia's voice returns to her mind. This time, her sentence ends with a gunshot, followed by a dreaded, deranged scream that sounds an awful lot like Callista. She covers her ears, trying to drown out the sound of her own mind with anything she can think of other than more screaming. What could possibly distract her from such horrific memories that just won't stop?

Callista suddenly hears something.

A melodic humming. Her humming.

A soft, gentle, familiar tune so soft she can barely keep it above a whisper..... but somehow so loud that Elysia's voice and the gunshot are barely audible over the sound of her own voice in her ears.

Callista stops covering her ears, letting the tune follow its own path. Somehow, she knows each and every note that comes next... but she can't place her finger on any lyrics. Regardless, she keeps humming, focusing on the tune until it's time to repeat.

A slow wave of relief and tranquility trickles down her system. She feels oddly calm..... almost concerningly so. But it's hard to care when this melody feels like a warm hug that's shielding all her regrets and hatred.

With a deep breath, Callista finds the strength to stand up. She grips the side of the sink, grimacing as she notices the blood from broken blisters over her knuckles and fingers.

She feels as if it should affect her more than it currently does. But she still can't hear the memories that haunt her mind, so she's content with this odd sense of tranquility.

A towel sits on a nearby rack beside the mirror, which Callista picks up, dampens, and wipes away the bloody fingerprints on the counter, still humming. The white marble shines, even in the dimness of the room... she interprets it as gratitude for cleaning up.

I need to bandage these.... sand would be agonizing to get in those wounds...

She makes her way out of the washroom, holding the rag to her hands as she enters the laundry room. Ambrosius keeps a first aid kit in the lower left cabinet... Callista's sure they won't mind.

Inside, she finds exactly what she's looking for: non-stick bandage wraps. She takes the roll out and carefully starts wrapping each finger. Pinky, then ring, then middle, and so on... she never stops humming.

A lyric finally makes it's way to Callista's tongue.

"Matou te sisiva i le malamalama o le masina, ma uulima..."

She pauses for a moment before repeating it in the same tune she unexpected sang.

"... Matou te sisiva i le malamalama o le masina, ma uulima."

The next lyric is nothing more than humming.

Callista shrugs and continues to bandage herself, humming while also softly singing the lyric where it fits. It's such a beautiful song... where did she learn it? Why does she feel like she's missing something with it?

Oh, well. It's still drowning out Elysia's words and what accompanies it. Callista's too tired to let this tranquility end through pausing and contemplating the melody.

After some time, she looks at her bandaged hands.... maybe it wasn't necessary to also do her wrists and forearms, but she feels better about not being able to possibly hurt those areas. In fact, she kind of likes how the wrappings look.

I'll return with a restock for Amber... he'll appreciate that, she thinks as she wipes any remaining blood up and throws the dirty towel in the laundry machine. It feels nice to be able to think rationally and calmly for once and not be in a panic over her past.

Just keep humming and singing. The memories can't hurt me if I can't hear them.

Callista starts the washing machine, praying Elysia doesn't wake up.... thankfully, it's quiet enough to ease her fears.

A small green light catches her attention instead- the dryer. Looks like it's done.... maybe putting the towels away can be one more favor she does for Amber. He deserves it, after everything he's done for both Calli and Elysia. This is the least she can do.

Callista sits on her knees and opens the dryer, taking the first towel out.... it's so warm against her skin that she can't help but close her eyes and hold it close, softly humming into the fabric.

"... Ua talie atua ma faasusuina i matou i le mafanafana...."

A second lyric. She puts the two together.

"Matou te sisiva i le malamalama o le masina, ma uulima... Ua talie atua ma faasusuina i matou i le mafanafana."

Yeah. That sounds right.

Callista folds the towel as the heat dissipates, setting it aside before grabbing a new one. She always forgets how nice these feel against her skin, how nice any warmth feels against her skin.... it feels like a hug.

..... she could use a hug.... that sounds nice. Maybe falling asleep against Amber's tail....

She pushes the thought to the back of her mind. It's nice, but she's scared physical touch could rouse her fear once again. She only just started feeling peaceful, with the song she's slowly remembering.

The towels make do, as she soaks in the warmth of each before folding them neatly until the dryer is empty. Callista sets them all on top of the machine... she would put them away if she had the energy or courage to go around to each room.

... one more thing, she thinks to herself as she walks to the front desk. Sifting through the drawers, she finds a pen and 2 pieces of paper.

The first one she addresses to Amber.

"Hi Amber. I'm okay. But I can't stay, and I won't be returning for a while. I need time. If you need me, I will be at the beach. I know that is very vague, but you'll find me if you need me. Thank you so much for everything. You've been such a kind friend and I care for you very deeply. I love you, please take care of yourself. From, Callista."

She sets the note on the desk and places a scallop shell with pinkish-orange stripes and brown dots at the base over top of it.

The next note is for Elysia.... she stops humming only for a moment to focus. The memories shine through, but she tries to cut them out long enough to write.

"Hi Eva. I'm not going to be here when you get up. Please tell Mercury and everyone else everything. Tell him I'm sorry and I didn't want any of this to happen. None of this was supposed to happen and I wish I took a different path. Thank you for trying to find me, I'm sorry I'm running away again. I'd prefer if you didn't search for me, but if you must then you may. I won't be at the spa for some time. Please be kind to Amber, he's treated me with nothing but kindness and I love him like a brother. I have no doubt you'll be able to be kind to him though, you never had an issue being polite. I love you all dearly. I need to figure things out though. Please stay safe and take care of yourself. I love you all. Tell Mercury I'm sorry. Tell everyone I'm sorry that all of this happened. From, Callista."

Her hand is shaking as she makes the final period, and Callista notices tears landing dangerously close to the paper. She quickly wipes them away and starts humming again.... well, more like singing now.

"Matou te sisiva i le malamalama o le masina, ma uulima... Ua talie atua ma faasusuina i matou i le mafanafana.

O loo fiafia uma o tatou aiga ma uo o loo siomia ai i tatou i le malamalama o le masina."

Callista pauses before continuing her walk down the hall. Third lyric. She's not sure how she feels about it, knowing what it means.

She whispers the song under her breath as she enters Elysia's room.... the girl is so frail and in such poor health. She wonders if it's possible to change that in this digital world.

The note goes on the table next to the bed.... along with a tiny white conch shell with a pink interior. Elysia will like that.

Callista stands there for a few silent moments, mouthing the lyrics, before turning on her heel and walking out of the room... and out of the spa.

The beach isn't a far walk from the spa. What is a far walk is her 'shack', if it's even able to be considered that anymore. But that doesn't bother Callista, as she walks along the shoreline and sings. Every so often, she reverts back to humming. The tune remains gentle and comforting... like a lullaby of some sort.

She reaches down and picks up a few shells on the way.... they're almost unending, and Calli makes a game of trying to balance them on her head and waist rings, which is easier than she anticipated.

She feels better. Maybe only temporarily, but better is better. Maybe there's something wrong with her. Maybe she's starting to lose her mind. But she's content right now.... who is she to take that away from herself?

The wrecked excuse for a shack comes into view and Callista walks towards it.... something is still missing with her song. She feels as if she's not doing something she should.

Her hand suddenly raises up, as if the muscles acted on their own. Calli pauses, looking up at the hand that's reaching up at the moon ahead of her. That's new.... but oddly enough, it feels right.

Callista continues to look up at the moon as simple steps become something a little more elegant.... she points her toes, and focuses on walking in step with each lyric. The sand seems to beckon her to continue.

She spins a bit, searching for the right feeling as she nears the shack.... this is some kind of dance she knows, what comes next though...? She sways her hips a little, letting her voice grow loose and a little less reserved. It feels... liberating.

Callista stops walking, dragging her feet in arches and steps in place as she closes her eyes and tries to engulf herself in nature. The rustle of trees and grass behind her... the warm, fine sand beneath her... the salty ocean crashing ahead.... and the gentle, swirling breeze all around her...

Callista envisions rain and sun, day and night, nature in all of its beauty. She imagines the back and forth of leaves in the breeze, sand holding the memory of even the smallest disturbance, the unique patterns of the waves.... and forms a dance. A dance that feels right, to the lullaby Callista finds herself singing on loop.

Everything, for once, feels right. She can barely hear the memories, or see the face of the killer. Her mind and soul has been taken by nature.

Despite this, tears pour down Callista's face. If emotions had colors, each tear would be more multicolored than a rainbow. All the emotions overwhelm her heart.

She's so angry at why she was forced to make such a choice.

She's so sad for the death of her friend.

She's so guilty for how her actions led to everyone being trapped here.

She's so confused as to what really happened.

She's so homesick and desperate for some kind of familial sense.

She's so happy to, for once, feel like things are right.

She's so scared for what will happen once everyone else learns about what she did.

She's so tired of....

..... she's just so tired. So, so, so tired.

I'm done. To the pits of hell with this all. I can't take this anymore. I just want to go home. I just want to go to hell for what I did. I just want everyone to be happy and content. What God decided that's too much to ask for?

Drops of mixed emotion and exhaustion lands on the sand as Callista's body starts to ache and her voice starts to grow raw..... but she can't stop yet. She needs... the final lyric... to the song... she's almost...

It suddenly hits her.

"O le a ou puipuia oe, laʻu uo, seʻia pa'ū le lagi."

Callista feels herself slow to a halt, smile fading fully.

"Matou te sisiva i le malamalama o le masina, ma uulima... Ua talie atua ma faasusuina i matou i le mafanafana. O loo fiafia uma o tatou aiga ma uo o loo siomia ai i tatou i le malamalama o le masina... O le a ou puipuia oe, laʻu uo, seʻia pa'ū le lagi."

She repeats it, trying to still sing. The meaning of the lyrics starts to weigh on her.

The memories start to return. Guilt, grief, and anger wash out any other emotion.....

And just like that, Callista's back at square one. She falls to her knees, quietly sobbing and repeating the last lyric. Over and over.

She didn't protect him. She did the opposite. She won't ever be able to look beyond that fact.

The night sounds grow into nothing more than the waves crashing against the shore and a girl crying in her sleep.

[xotaemintol]

LEE JINKI x BLACK FEM READER : “Hold You/On The Way”

“Read my heart and bе patient” - Lee Jinki: On The Way

Fluffy Smut

PRONOUNS USED: 'She/Her' (will do they/them ver is asked! :))

Word Count: 4510

TWS: Unprotected sex, Daddy kink(?), slight choking, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, and praise.

INSPO: On The Way by ONEW

Plot: Your boyfriend Jinki gets home from a two-day trip with his yoga class, you've missed each other so much that one kiss turns into a touch, and a touch into so much more.

Only one more hour to go, you were counting down the seconds until your loving boyfriend Jinki was finally back from his two-day trip with his yoga class, and with every second passing, you became more and more excited to see him. With every text he sent, a picture of a new location or meal, every adorable emoji and sticker, you became almost impatient from your excitement. He felt the same as he smiled brightly at his phone while staring at the pictures you sent of yourself standing by the front door, the adorable emoticons you sent made his heart flutter as he waited patiently for the relaxing outing to be over so he could go home and see his beautiful girlfriend. You knew that he was just as excited to see you as you were him by the way he smiled on all of the videos of himself he sent, but also because he's always so happy to see you.

Even though you've been living together for officially six months now, you both always get so giddy when you get to see each other after the other being so busy all day, it's the best part of both your day and you both are more than well aware of this. So you weren't at all surprised when he smiled at you with such a large and warm grin before completely engulfing you in a tight hug, you were more than happy to dramatically run into his arms and nuzzle your face into his chest as he swayed slowly and tangled his fingers in your thick coils, the way his fingers so lovingly rubbed your scalp made your heart flutter as butterflies swarmed your stomach.

"I missed you so much," He said in a gentle tone, "You were only gone for two days," You responded playfully, he laughed a little, knowing that you were only joking since you made it clear by your excited squeal when you saw him that you missed him too. "Two days is too long without you." His soft voice made your knees feel like jelly, the way he openly spoke about his feelings for you is what keeps your relationship healthy, and the way you always reciprocate is what keeps it happy. "You always say that," You said with a laugh, "Because, it's true..." Your playful banter made the both of you feel like time had stopped just for you, and as his voice trailed off and he carefully tilted your chin with his other hand it felt like time was frozen. All it took was that fond look in his eyes for you to know that he wanted a kiss, but the way he waited was making you feel so nervous like it was your first time all over again.

"You know, you're just as beautiful as the day I met you," There it was, that line that always made you swoon no matter how he said it, "Stop it," You said shyly, you turned your head away from him becoming flustered by his soft gaze and tender tone, but he only guides your head back to him and leaned in a little closer. "You look so cute when you get shy," As he leaned in a little closer your breathing became heavier, and your heart rate was getting faster. "I love how adorable you are," As Jinki's ruthless praise broke you down you anticipated the feeling of his lips on yours, you were becoming impatient again but you weren't going to rush him, instead you waited for him to finally close that space. And when he finally did it felt like fireworks had gone off in his body, after seven whole years Jinki still manages to effortlessly keep things feeling fresh and brand new.

The passionate and gentle kiss made a heat spread through your chest, he made sure to kiss you slowly to show just how much you mean to him with every word that comes out of his mouth. Neither of you expected the innocent kiss to become so heated, all it took was for his hand to slip down to your midsection and for him to softly squeeze your butt for him to be carefully leading you to the bedroom as he continued to kiss you. Without having to say a word you were laying on your back with him on top of you and his soft lips trailing down from your jaw to your neck. Even with the lights off Jinki was able to locate every one of the sensitive spots on your neck and shoulders, his hands leisurely sliding underneath your shirt to caress your soft brown skin. His comforting scent only heightened your senses and made you want to feel every inch of him all over you.

"Can I?" As you opened your eyes and looked at him you could see his eyes shining in the dark room, the moonlight peaking through the window illuminated his bare complexion so prettily, and the way he made sure to ask before removing any article of clothing was making you fall in love all over again. You nodded your head silently as your heart began to swell with warmth. Jinki carefully straddled your legs and leads you to sit up so he can take off your shirt, as he slowly pulled it up over your head his heart began to pound, something about your beautiful skin being lit by the moonlight was driving him crazy. "You're so pretty," He tossed the shirt aside and kissed you again, this time it was only a quick peck before he instructed you to lay back down. "Tell me what you want baby, let me spoil you tonight."

You bit your lip as he trailed kisses down between your breasts, with every breath he could see your chest rise and fall slowly, your eagerness made him feel the same as you.

"Jinki..." You whined, "That's too embarrassing," He knew that you were always like this when it came to asking, but he loved to hear the way you'd acutely whine and protest. "Don't be embarrassed darling, just tell me, it's just the two of us here." Although you were beyond rattled you ignored that embarrassing feeling and shyly asked: "Can you...eat me out?" His soft chuckle only made you feel even more shy, but the way he kissed your stomach and looked up at you made you relax. Jinki has always made you feel comfortable and safe to say what you want, think, or feel, so even though you were embarrassed, it didn't even take a second for you to feel secure under his adoring gaze. "Anything for my pretty girl." Luckily, all that you were wearing underneath the shirt he had discarded was a pair of soft underwear, so as he lowered his body and delicately grabbed your legs and hiked them up so he could give himself more room, he was able to get you fully undressed in a matter of seconds.

Sliding your underwear off slowly as you watched with awe in your eyes, Jinki tried his best not to act too rashly and quickly dive his head between your thighs, he wanted to go as slow as he possibly could tonight to make up for the two days he spent away. So instead of diving right in, he sluggishly but purposefully kissed your inner thighs. From the crease of your thigh and calf to the crease between your thigh and the outer parts of your vulva, Jinki worshiped every part of your lower body lovingly until he could hear your breathing getting louder. The feeling of his lips made your core drip with excitement, and when you finally felt them on your labia you gasped softly and tensed up just a little, it was like he could tell right away too from the way he rubbed his hands over the front of your thighs in a soothing manner.

The action made you relax right away, and as he dipped his head down and placed an open-mouth kiss over your clit your body jolted. It didn't take him long to set the stage as he began to slowly drag his tongue up from your opening to your clit, with every slow lick you were falling deeper and deeper into pleasure, the feeling of his tongue gave you chills all over your body and your toes curled. He moved his focus to your clit as you began to respond more to the sensation, his tongue tracing medium-sized 'O's on the sensitive bud as he held your thighs beside his head. Your heavy breaths turn into moans in a matter of seconds, shivers go up your spine as your eyes fluttered closed and you tilt your head back into the pillows.

"Ji...Jinki..." You breathe out in a sensual voice that gives him butterflies, you reach down between your legs and put your hand in his hair, gently intertwining your fingers in his brown locks of hair. "So...Good..." Your words encouraged him more and made him want to draw out more from you, so he let go of one of your thighs and brought it down to your cunt, he adjusted his body and carefully slid his finger up from your opening to just under your clit to collect some of the juices that began to build up on his finger before carefully pushing just one inside of you. From just one of his fingers your back was arching off the soft mattress, it took him no time to find that soft spot that made your head spin. Curling his finger up Jinki slowly rocked his hand back and forth while still using his tongue to stimulate your clit, making sure to be attentive to your reactions so he could make sure he was doing it right.

"Oh my...Jinki...Right there," You bit your lip and pressed your hips into his face even more with your hand still in his hair, your stomach started feeling warmer with every second he spent stimulating your body, your legs trembled and you couldn't keep your voice down, but neither of you cared; in fact, Jinki was hoping you'd be louder. So he carefully slipped another finger inside of you and because his jaw was beginning to feel tired he replaced his tongue with his thumb and as he rocked his hand back and forth with his fingers still curled upward, he did his best to massage circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb. "Does it feel good my love?" He asked as he moved up to you, "Do you like it?" You nodded, moaning louder as he kissed under your jaw and moved his hand faster. "So...So good!" You could feel a pressure building in your stomach, your walls convulsed around his fingers, and your clit began to feel more sensitive than before.

"I'm so close..." You whined, you opened your eyes and looked at him, his eyes were already on you and full of passion. "I...So good...you-Ah..." You gasped and unintentionally shut your legs around his hand, trapping it between your thighs as your body shook and the pressure in your stomach turned into a ball of tight yarn that was unraveling in the blink of an eye. Jinki watched as you threw your head back and gripped the pillow underneath your head, the way your face contorted in pleasure made him feel unbelievably turned on. As that wave of white pleasure washed over you, your excitement coats his fingers and soaks his hand, but he doesn't pull away yet, instead, he goes faster and continues to stimulate you through your orgasm. "Wait! Wait!" You cried out, and quickly your clit began to feel sensitive.

You reached down and grabbed his wrist weakly, but you didn't have to, he could tell that you were done so he slowly pulled his hand away and looked at you with a sweet but sensual smile.

"Did that feel good?" He asked, his voice was still soft but now you could hear that he was feeling just as and if not more, aroused as you. You nodded and reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss you wrapped your legs around his waist and held him there. You could feel the bulge in his loosely fitted dress pants pressed against you as he kissed you back, you were dying to feel more of him. "Can we keep going?" You asked as you pulled away, you were fully expecting him to stop here and call it a night since he has always been the type to be content with just making you cum and going to bed even if he was very obviously frustrated himself. "You want to?" He asked as he looked you in your eyes, again you nodded, asking in a voice he couldn't deny: "Please?" That was all he had to hear to begin undressing himself.

As he quickly discarded his shirt you bit your lip and watched with hungry eyes, just as he got to his pants and started taking them off you were overcome with a strong and undeniable urge.

"Can we do it without a condom tonight?" Your request made him look at you a little surprised, but you knew he wouldn't turn it down. "Mhmm...is that what you want?" he asked in a slightly teasing way, you nodded your head and bit your lip with a grin, "Then I'll give it to you baby." You almost moan at the sound of his voice, watching him take off the rest of his clothes had you throbbing, every time with him feels like the first all over again. As he finally pulls his underwear down his cock slapped against his abdomen, and every part of you wanted to reach out and touch it. The slight curve and the thickness were mouth-watering, just imagining him inside of you was making you feel incredibly impatient for him, but you knew he wasn't going to do anything without making sure you were completely ready first. "Lay back for me baby," Jinki said as he positioned his body between your legs.

Once again you found yourself arching as he slid his hand back down between your legs and carefully inserted two fingers inside of you, he started off slowly to stretch you out a little more, watching your face as he gently spread the two fingers inside of you, at first your face scrunched up a little from the slight discomfort, but you quickly got used to it. As soon as he noticed this though he realized that he unfortunately had to add another finger just in case.

"Can you take one more?" He asked he sounded slightly worried but the worry in his voice only made you feel secure with him, you smiled softly, looking up into his eyes with care as you nodded your head and licked your lips, "I can handle it." Although you said this and you've had sex multiple times, Jinki has always taken extra measures not to hurt you, so as he slowly slipped a third finger inside the leaned down and kissed you to distract you from any possible amount of pain. Jinki's other hand slowly slid up to your face, gently caressing it as he slowly and passionately kisses you, he so lovingly kisses you making your breathing speed up as the stretch of three of his fingers makes you cringe just a little. He takes his time to get you ready, only slipping his tongue into your mouth shortly before going back to kissing you in a more simple and tamed fashion, he had you breathless and almost throbbing with heat, and as he pulls away and begins to slowly kisses down from your jaw to your neck you let out hushed moans.

"Jinki..." You close your eyes and put your hand in his soft hair, gently rubbing his scalp as his lips left delicately warm kisses on your soft skin. Although he wasn't biting, sucking, or pressing his fingers into you in an overly lustful way, he still managed to have you more aroused than ever. "You're so pretty..." He breathed out against your skin, his voice sounded so smooth and alluring, his words tangled with hints of passion and desire. You only hummed as a response, closing your eyes as you let him lure you in deeper, the slight discomfort faded away just as fast as it appeared and he could feel you becoming wetter. But, he kept moving his fingers inside of you at a slow pace, rocking them back and forth to get you riled up. That didn't take long, in a matter of seconds your hips were bucking up into his hand letting him know that you were more than just ready.

Finally, he pulled his fingers out and while still kissing you he lined himself up with your entrance. The head of his cock prodded against the dripping hole making you both feel too excited to wait another second.

"Jinki...daddy...put it in, please," He softly groaned and bit his plush bottom lip, hearing you call him that made him forget completely about trying to be as slow as possible. Without wasting another second he finally pushed himself into you, sliding inside of you with ease from how wet you were. The feeling of your walls sucking him in gave him chills, that same warmth you were feeling spread to him, and his body begins to tremble from how good you felt. With every inch you could feel your mind slipping away from you, the way he was filling you up felt like heaven, and the sound of his voice escaping with soft breaths made your walls clench around him. As he finally bottoms out inside you lay underneath him panting and biting your lip so hard it might bleed.

"You...feel so good..." His voice was shaky and you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you. "My pretty girl." This broke you immediately, your eyes rolled back and you let out a slightly loud moan as you threw your head back, your toes curl and the desperate feeling for him to move becomes too much, you whine, trying your hardest to find the words to say but the feeling of him pressing into you so deeply was making it hard to even think. "My pretty, pretty girl..." As if he could read your now empty mind, he finally started to move. Jinki's slow and deep strokes made you cry out in pleasure underneath him, your whole body tensing up as the pleasure rocked through you with so much force you felt like you'd break.

Jinki was no better though, already he felt like he was melting from how beautiful you looked and the feeling of being inside of you, the way you whimpered from his slow and careful thrusts was driving him wild. As he gently caressed your skin he fought himself not to suddenly go faster, but the way your back arched and your legs trembled beside him made it hard not to. "Jinki!" You gasped, your body trembled as his hips slowly rolled into yours, with every slow motion you feel yourself becoming more and more lost in the feeling of him so deep inside of you, "Oh my...oh god..." You throw your head back as Jinki begins to go even slower, the feeling of his length dragging against your walls and slowly filling you again makes you want to cry. "You feel...so...oh god, you feel so good..." Your eyes roll back, the look on your face makes him shudder. Jinki can't stop himself from letting go, soft breaths leave his slightly red lips and tangle so melodically with gentle moans, "Y/N..." he pants as he angles his hips upward a little more, right away the new angle sends you into a spiral, with even the slightest movement the head of his cock against pressing against a soft spongy spot right underneath your clit.

The feeling drives you wild, without even having to he was stimulating your whole body. "Jink...Jinki...Daddy..." You call out, and the sound of your voice makes him tremble, and the way your walls convulse around him makes the pleasure feel too good for him to stop. "Jinki...Oh God Jinki!" You cried out, the feeling of his fingers on your skin felt like electricity, and when they touched your sensitive breasts you jumped from the sudden sensation. "Relax..." He pants, quietly moaning as he leaned down to kiss your neck your neck slowly moving up to your lips to give you a quick kiss, "It's just us." You look at him, gazing into his low eyes as you become enthralled with the way moonlight lit them up beautifully, you struggled to keep your eyes open, but you didn't want to look away. But as he stared at you in your eyes, that last bit of patience he had was gone, he changed the pace and began to move faster, his slow strokes becoming fast enough for the stable bed to begin shaking.

Jinki grabbed your legs and carefully pulled them up to his shoulders as he went faster, your voice became weaker as the pressure in your stomach becomes more intense, it felt like he was so deep was erasing every thought in your mind. You gripped the sheets tightly and close your eyes tightly as a familiar feeling of release starts to surface, only this time more intense. But before it becomes too much Jinki decided to switch the position.

"Turn over for me baby," He said as he carefully pulled out of you, as you followed his instruction you weakly laid on your stomach and put your hips up, assuming that was what he meant. "You're so cute," Unexpectedly he grabbed your arms and pulled you up so you were on your knees, "like this..." He whispered in your ear, you moaned and threw your head back from the feeling of his breathing on your sweaty skin, desperate to feel him inside of you again. Luckily you didn't have to wait for long, before you could even ask he was already back inside of you, holding your arms behind your back as he fucked you from behind. "Oh! Oh my god!" Your back is arched and your body trembles even more, his grip on your arms becomes tighter as he goes faster, losing himself in the feeling of you. "Did you miss this baby?" He asked in a husky tone, "Did you miss feeling me inside of you?" he lets go of your arms and quickly wraps his arms around your body.

With one hand holding your face and the other around your stomach he quietly moans into your ear, your eyes closed and your body limply leans against his arms, almost falling over as you whimper and begin to leak onto the covers even more. That intense pressure in your stomach returns making you clench around his tightly, it only made him go faster though, fucking you until that pressure was finally released. The feeling of you gushing against him made his stomach burn with heat, and chills form across his sweaty skin, he was already getting close, and the way you quietly called out his name didn't help. His stomach clenched as his grip on your face tightened just a little, it felt like you could feel him in your stomach as he slammed into you with so much force the headboard was shaking, every thrust knocked the air out of your lungs and left you gasping for air.

“Jinki...Jinki...Jinki...” You chanted, “Jinki...daddy...oh fuck...so...mhm...Jinki,” Your angelic cries make him almost double over from pleasure as he moves his hand down to your throat, gently squeezing it as he sloppily kissed your shoulder, “That's right baby, say my name...” He pants against your skin and loosens his grip just a little when he notices how silent you went, “Daddy...daddy you feel...like...you feel like... it's so...good...” Your voice trails off, and once again you fall silent and your eyes slowly roll back and flutter closed. “Im gonna cum,” When you heard this your stomach felt like it was doing flips, although you could hardly think, your mind was immediately filled with the thought of Jinki cumming inside of you. “Do you-fuck....do you want me to pull out baby?” You could only nod your empty head as you weakly grabbed his hands, holding onto them as if you'd break without them.

“Say it baby, say you want me to cum inside of you, tell me what you want,” As he says this he moves his hand from your waist to between your legs, and his fingers quickly find their way to your clit sloppily rubbing fast circles on your clit. Your whole body began to tense up and you struggle to form the words to beg, all you could do was moan and spout gibberish, but it was enough for him. “It's okay baby girl, it's okay, daddy’s gonna fill you up,” Your nails dig into his arms as you struggle to even breathe properly. “Daddy! Jinki! Fuck! Yes! Yes! Yes!” your vision goes white as a coil quickly forms in your stomach. Just as it begins to form you could feel his hips shutter, his thrusts become sloppy and wild, and every movement drove you both closer and closer to that edge until finally a chill washes over both your bodies.

The room is filled with the sounds of your skin slapping together and deep breathes, the intense pleasure that washes over him makes his whole body tense up before relaxing completely, and the feeling of your walls convulsing around him as he fills you up made him struggle to keep his body upright, his mind goes blank and he lets out a sensual no an that makes your stomach swirl. The feeling of him cumming inside of you made your body shiver, your nails dig deeper into him and you get tingles over your spine, no sounds leave your mouth as you lean your head back onto his shoulder and bite your lip, your eyes watering and your body throbbing.

When the feeling finally started to fade you stayed like this for a while longer, catching your breath as he gently soothingly rubbed your stomach, when you had both finally relaxed he carefully pulled out of you and helped you to lay down on the slightly wet sheets, you were both too tired to bother with changing them and decided to just shower in the morning instead and after slipping your bonett on for you, Jinki held you closely and the dry side of the bed while lovingly rubbing your back.