#it's been some time since I last drew these two
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wannabeschyulersister · 3 days ago
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“What’s my middle name?”
Pedro’s smirk widened as he heard the responses to your question from his fellow cast members. They were all hilariously incorrect.
“You don’t have a middle name,” he replied confidently when they all gave up.
You turned your card over and showed what you wrote, “You are correct. I don’t have a middle name.”
Pedro wanted to wink at you since you had both discussed facts like this early on, but he was aware of the numerous eyes and cameras on you both.
During the press tour, the two of you had to be extremely cautious not to let the lingering glances or secret touches be revealed. It was incredibly challenging to maintain a distance from the man you loved so deeply.
“Next question, what Marvel movie did I have a minor role in?”
Pedro knew the answer before you finished asking the question. “You were in Captain America: The Winter Solider.”
“Correct,” you smiled.
Pedro scored more points with the last two questions you had. It surprised the others, but not you.
Next, it was Paul’s turn. You all got a few minutes for a break before the rest of the game. You asked one of the PAs where the bathroom was, and they pointed you in the right direction.
You entered the room and finished your business before exiting. Pedro stood alone in the hallway, waiting for you. A part of you sensed that he would follow you away from the others.
He extended his index finger to gesture you over, saying, “Come here.”
You eagerly complied. It felt like it had been too long since you last felt his embrace. It had just been a few hours and you were craving it. He drew you closer, and your lips met in a passionate kiss.
His lips moved to your neck and then right under your left ear, uttering, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve been sitting right next to you during all these interviews this morning,” you chuckled.
“I know,” he replied, “but I haven’t been able to touch you, kiss you, or do anything. It’s been torture.”
“Oh, you poor, baby,” you cooed.
Pedro tightened his grip on you once more before letting you go in case anyone made their way down the hall.
“We just have a couple more interviews, and then I’ll be yours.”
That made him smile. “I like the sound of that.”
You couldn’t help but kiss his cheek softly.
“I have an idea,” he blurted out.
“Uh oh,” you said jokingly.
“Why don’t we attend one of the premieres of the movie together, as a couple?” He appeared vulnerable in that moment, as if he was apprehensive about your response.
“Is that what you truly want?” you inquired. It had been nearly a year of hiding the relationship. He had been hinting for some time that he was ready for something more.
He nodded in agreement, “If we both agree, I wouldn’t want to force you into doing anything you’re not prepared for.”
You swiftly weighed your pros and cons. Undoubtedly, there were more pros.
You grabbed his hand and smiled, “Then I guess we better color coordinate our outfits.”
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nell0-0 · 2 years ago
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The dichotomy of T&I Obito at its finest
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omppupiiras · 10 months ago
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Corn pea Käärijä has something he would like to ask you... 👉👈
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silverfoxstole · 1 year ago
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@crystalromana ‘s post yesterday got me thinking about what might happen if Liv and Helen decided the Doctor deserved a hug too.
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witchywithwhiskey · 13 days ago
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another man’s marks
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pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader
summary: you're texting with your situationship when he asks for a nude photo—but you're covered in marks left by another man. wanting to see what he'll do, you send a photo of yourself, and you're rewarded with a very torturous and enjoyable reaction.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), masturbation (m), come play, bdsm elements, a lot of biting and marking, orgasm delay, choking, some breath play, some pain play, some dacryphilia, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, some aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior
word count: 7.3k
a/n: so this post came across my dash and i had the thought 'ok but what if you sent a situationship a picture covered in another man's marks?' and i started thinking about how toxic situationship bucky might react and then i wrote the first draft of this fic very quickly 🤭 i actually really love toxic bucky but i'm a little nervous to share this because i just want you all to love him as much as i do 🥺 (and, actually, he's not as toxic as i originally intended but y'know what, that's ok i think). i hope y'all enjoy ♡
you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist
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Let me see your tits, baby.
The text message drew a huff of noise from you, one that was half laugh, half scoff. You were laying in bed, already wearing your pajamas—an oversized tee and panties—and catching up with your situationship, Bucky Barnes, before you went to sleep.
His request wasn’t entirely out of the blue. After asking how your day was, Bucky had started complaining about his day, and you’d known the man long enough to know those kinds of conversations often led to him asking you to send a photo of yourself—though he usually wanted a picture of what panties you were wearing.
Most of the time, you didn’t hesitate to take a picture to send to him. But that time, you paused.
You liked Bucky. You liked talking to him and hearing about his day, and when you were together, you had fun. Plus, you liked sending photos of yourself to him, and you enjoyed the fact that he wanted to see your body when he wasn’t with you. It stroked your ego when he asked for a photo, and he always responded with filthy praise that turned you on. 
But that particular night, you had a problem preventing you from simply taking a photo. And, really, the problem was partly to blame on Bucky. 
From the beginning, he’d said he didn’t do relationships, he’d told you he wasn’t ready to commit to just one person. He’d been clear and up front about what he wanted, and it was nothing more than a situationship, which was fine with you. You liked him, but you weren’t going to beg for more.
But you’d also decided that if he wasn’t going to commit to you, then you certainly weren’t going to clear out your roster just for him. You weren’t going to be one of those girls sitting at home pining away for some guy. Not even Bucky Barnes.
Which, in a long, winding way, led to your current predicament. 
After all, there was a difference between Bucky being vaguely aware you were still hooking up with other guys—since you occasionally referenced your roster—and him seeing the evidence of it. And you had to wonder how he’d react if you took a picture of your tits in the state they were that evening…
It had only been about a day since your last hookup, and your mind wandered to the night before. You’d met up with one of the other guys on your roster, John Walker, and had a decently enjoyable dick appointment. You hadn’t expected Bucky or any of the other men on your roster to ask for pics, so you’d let John do what he wanted to your body.
If there were two things you knew about John Walker, it was that he and Bucky hated each other, and he loved your tits. John loved playing with them, he loved sucking on them, and he loved leaving hickeys all over them. Which he’d done the night before—and then proceeded to give you a not very satisfying orgasm. 
Sure, it’d done the trick in the moment, but not even 24 hours later, you were already restless again, your body needing a proper release, which you knew Bucky could give you. But you weren’t planning to see Bucky for at least a couple days, not until the evidence of your hookup with John had faded.
Lifting your shirt, you looked at John’s handiwork. Your tits were dotted all over with at least a dozen tiny little love bites, and your body warmed as you remembered the knife-edged pleasure that came along with each little mark. They were so recent, the bruises were still reddish, not having yet fully faded to a dark purple. 
As you looked at them, you had a devious thought—what would Bucky do if he saw John’s marks on your body? Would he blow you off, stop talking to you, maybe even ghost you? Or would he need to see you so badly that he’d come over to your apartment? Would he fuck you and give you the release you needed?
Thinking through your options, you knew it would be the kind, respectful thing to send Bucky an older photo, one of your tits when they were entirely unblemished. You had plenty of photos like that on your phone—and Bucky probably wouldn’t even notice if you sent him the same photo twice.
Or… You could send Bucky a photo of your tits covered in another man’s hickeys. You could, if he asked, tell him exactly who had given you all those hickeys. And then, you could see what Bucky would do about it. 
A wicked smile crept across your face as you came to a decision. 
Lifting your shirt again, you arched your body toward the light in your room, making sure the marks were clearly visible on your skin, then you snapped a photo of your tits. Before you could talk yourself out of the idea that was probably toxic and definitely a little mean, you sent the photo to Bucky.
His reply was almost instantaneous.
Who the fuck did that to you.
You bit back your mischievous giggle, even if you were alone in your room and there was no one to hear the evil way you wanted to cackle at Bucky’s response. Excited thrills raced through your veins, warmth blooming between your thighs at the anger laced in his text message.
You knew you’d be pushing him further toward anger by answering his question—you knew how much Bucky and John hated each other—but he’d asked. And besides, you were hoping he’d take out all that anger on your body in the most delicious of ways. So you sent a simple response.
John Walker.
You waited for Bucky’s response. 
And waited. 
But as the minutes ticked by and Bucky didn’t text back, your heart sank more and more, and the delighted smile on your face flattened into a frown. You began to think Bucky might actually be ghosting you.
For only a moment, you let yourself feel disappointed at the way your phone didn’t light up with another text from your situationship, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be sad over a man like Bucky Barnes. Even if he fucked you way better than John Walker or any of the other guys on your roster. Even if you liked him more than any of the other guys you’d been with.
Hauling yourself up from your bed, you went through your nighttime routine, brushing your teeth and washing your face while listening to music. It wasn’t until you were about to slip into bed and go to sleep that your phone buzzed with a new text message. 
Your heart lept into your throat when you saw it was Bucky and you scrambled to read his response, eager to know what had taken him so long. Your breath caught in your throat and excitement buzzed wildly through your veins when you saw what he’d written.
I’m outside. Open your door.
A shiver of anticipation zipped down your spine as you bounded out of bed, an ecstatic grin spreading across your face at the realization that you’d got what you wanted—Bucky was at your apartment. And he was going to do something about the photo you’d sent him. 
It took all your self control not to run to your apartment door and fling it open excitedly to greet Bucky. Instead, you forced yourself to take your sweet time padding to the door, your movements deliberately lazy as you unlocked it and swung it open.
Bucky Barnes loomed on the other side, his head hanging between stiff arms, his hands braced on either edge of the frame like he was holding himself back from kicking down your door. His broad shoulders were bunched up, his short, brown hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it. His chest was heaving as he breathed harshly. 
When he lifted his head, the stubborn possessiveness in his darkened blue eyes slashed right through to your heart. He’d never looked at you that way before, and you had the terrible, fleeting thought that you could get used to being the only girl Bucky looked at so possessively. 
For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. Then, Bucky stalked forward, crowding you into your apartment and gathering you up in his strong arms while he kicked the door shut behind him. It closed with a rough slam that had your pulse skittering in your veins, your heart already pounding in your chest as Bucky crushed you in his arms.
His gaze held yours and there was something about the emotions swirling his eyes, a mixture of uncompromising possessiveness and lustful determination, that felt dangerous. Not to your body, but to your heart. 
“You got a lotta nerve sending me a picture with another man’s marks on you,” Bucky growled as he walked you backward toward your bedroom, his hands groping your hips and ass like every inch of your body belonged to him. “You weren’t trying to make me jealous, were you, baby?” 
His words were a furious hiss that he punctuated by ducking down and snapping his teeth at your plump lower lip, biting you roughly enough to wring a gasp from your lungs. Between your thighs, you could feel your pulse pumping needily, your body aching for so much more of Bucky’s rough treatment even as you forced yourself not to cower and submit like you wanted.
Pushing against Bucky’s shoulders until he leaned back and you could catch his eye, you quirked an eyebrow at him in a dry expression of amusement. 
“You’re a big boy, Bucky,” you said, before pausing to run your tongue along your lower lip, feeling the tender spot he’d bitten. Dark satisfaction swirled in your chest, but you made yourself shrug indifferently. “And I’m not your girlfriend—so if you’re jealous, that’s your problem, not mine.”
“You let him mark you,” Bucky snarled, an accusation in his tone as he stared deep into your eyes.
For a moment—just a brief moment—you saw a hurt look in Bucky’s gaze, and it pricked at something deep in your heart. Something you refused to look at or examine, especially not with Bucky standing right in front of you. You didn’t want to think about the fact that Bucky might’ve been hurt by your actions, or that you cared about his feelings enough to want to apologize.
But you supposed you could take pity on him. You’d tormented him enough for one night. 
“Yeah,” you said, cocking your head to the side, a sly smirk curving your lips. “And what are you gonna do about it, daddy?” You practically purred the final word, knowing how Bucky would react to it. 
Just like that, the hurt vanished from Bucky’s expression and heat sparked in his icy blue eyes, a menacing smile pulling across his face. 
“You wanna see what I’m gonna do about it?” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “Oh, baby, you’re not fucking ready for what I’m gonna do to your pretty little slutty body.”
Bucky crowded into you, pushing you backward until your legs hit your bed, and then he was shoving you down to the soft blankets. You crawled backward into the center of the bed while Bucky toed out of his shoes and took off his jacket, leaving him in only a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. 
Once he’d tossed his jacket somewhere in your room, he didn’t waste anymore time, prowling onto the bed and using his hands to push up the hem of your oversized tee. His head fell to your body, his teeth nipping harshly at your soft belly to make you squeal and squirm as he worked his way up. He delivered the same treatment to the curves of your brests and the delicate skin of your collarbone.
When his face finally hovered above yours, his breathing was harsh and his expression was filled with a determination so stubborn, you knew you were going to have a long night while Bucky showed you why you shouldn’t let another man mark your body.
“You’re not leaving this bed until you’ve got so many of my fucking marks on your body that you won’t even think about sending nudes to anyone else,” Bucky growled, tugging off your tee, pushing your legs open so he could settle between them, and descending on your tits. 
He found the first of John’s marks and sank his teeth into the skin around it, sucking hard on the already aching bruise. The spot gave a little twinge of pain from Bucky’s rough treatment, but it only mixed deliciously with the pleasure he was dragging from your body, and your fingers threaded into his hair, clinging to him while he sucked on your skin.
Bucky worked the reddish-purple blemish relentlessly with his mouth and teeth until it was bright again, and so much larger than the mark John had left. Then, when he was done, Bucky moved on to the next hickey, scraping his teeth over the bruise and wringing a helpless cry from your lips before he sucked the curve of your tit into his mouth. 
It went on like that for you didn’t know how long, Bucky working methodically down and across your chest, sucking and biting every bruise John had left behind on your body until each one was replaced with a new, bigger mark.
If you begged Bucky for more—or tried to push his furious mouth down toward your pussy, which was throbbing almost painfully with need—he’d simply narrow his eyes at you, giving you a look like you’d known exactly what you were getting yourself into when you���d sent that photo to him. Then he’d work his mouth even harder, even more roughly against your body, until you were tossing your head back into your pillows and moaning your pleasure.
By the time he was done, you were nothing more than a whimpering, pleading mess beneath him. Your eyes were filled with tears of desperation, and your inner thighs were sticky with the sheer amount of desire soaking your panties and coating your trembling flesh. 
“Daddy, please,” you begged on a sob, shoving at Bucky’s shoulders to get his attention as he roughly kissed a spot in the valley between your tits, licking and sucking a new hickey into your skin. 
At the sound of your ragged voice, Bucky lifted his head, but you could already tell by the determined glint in his eye and the stubborn set of his jaw that he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted just yet. 
“Hush, baby,” he rasped in a dark, patronizing tone, lowering his mouth back to your chest and sucking on the hickey he’d just left. “Daddy’s just getting started marking your beautiful body with all the pretty little bruises I want.” His voice was a rough growl that reverberated beneath your skin.
Between your thighs, you could feel more of your desire trickling into your panties, which were already soaked all the way through and sticking to your clammy skin. A whine worked its way up your throat and spilled from your lips before you could stop it, your legs squirming around Bucky’s sides, trying to grind your cunt against his body but unable to get the angle right. 
While you wriggled frustratedly, Bucky paid you no mind, shifting down your body as he picked a spot for his next mark. When his teeth sank into the soft flesh of your belly, you cried out, arching up off the bed and spreading your thighs wider to make room for Bucky’s broad shoulders. 
Your fingers twisted in his soft brown hair, trying to push his head down further, until it was between your thighs, whimpering a soft sob of, “Bucky, please.” 
But Bucky was having none of it. Despite your pleading and protests, he took his time, only peeling your panties away from your soppy wet cunt after taking his time leaving a trail of hickeys on your belly. 
When he saw how wet you were, Bucky chuckled and murmured, “Such a messy little slut, baby.” 
He’d said the words fondly and, if you weren’t mistaken, there was affection in the curve of his smile that had you feeling something you didn’t want to look at too closely. But your treacherous heart beat a little harder all the same.
Then his words sank into your lust-soaked mind and heat bloomed in your face at the gentle degradation. But what little shame you could conjure up only mixed with the burning of your desire as you stared down into Bucky’s darkened eyes, holding his gaze while he took off your panties and tossed them somewhere in your room.
He turned his focus back to the juncture of your thighs, shoving your legs wide open and smirking when you let out a helpless little moan at the feeling of the cool air brushing against your heated, dripping cunt. You were so worked up, you could feel your inner muscles clenching around nothing, needing to be filled with something.
“Your pussy’s winking at me, baby,” Bucky rumbled, laughter in his voice as he spread your pussy open with his fingers. You could feel it, your body winking at the man between your thighs like you were begging him to slide inside you—his fingers or his cock, you didn’t care. “She wants me bad, doesn’t she, baby?”
Bucky’s taunting words had you covering your face and letting out a low, tortured groan even as your hips twitched, your body yearning desperately to be filled, to be fucked. “Bucky,” you whined, drawing out his name pitifully as your hips bucked into his hands, seeking more of his touch.
But Bucky didn’t oblige your body’s request. His hands skimmed away from your pussy and along your thighs to hold you behind your knees, pushing your legs up to your chest so you were bared fully to his heated gaze. When you peeked out from between your fingers, you saw him staring hungrily down at your cunt, but at your movement, his gaze flicked up and caught yours.
“Do ya want me that bad, baby?” Bucky purred, ducking down to nuzzle his scruffy cheek against your inner thigh—so close to where you needed him, but still too far away. On instinct, your hips bucked upward, trying to press your pussy against Bucky’s face, but he held you down, grinning as he went on. “Ya want daddy’s fat cock to pound into your cute little cunt, huh, baby—want it hard and rough so you’ll be feeling me in your pretty pussy for days?”
“Oh god yes—yes, please, Bucky—daddy, please, I need your cock,” you babbled desperately, your hips squirming as you humped the empty air, seeking any part of Bucky that you could grind your aching cunt against. You didn’t care if it was his mouth or his cheek or his shoulder, you needed something.
Instead of giving you that, though, Bucky turned his face and sank his teeth deep into your thigh, hard enough that your pussy pulsed violently and you thought you were going to cum. But you didn’t. 
Once the blinding sensation of pain and pleasure passed, you knew you wouldn’t manage to tip over the edge just from Bucky’s teasing. You weren’t going to cum until he finally paid attention to your pussy, and somehow you suspected Bucky knew that. 
“Tell me how bad you want me,” he growled, sucking on your skin and beginning to leave a new mark on your inner thigh. His gaze was locked on yours as he stared up your body, past your heaving chest that was already littered with his marks, commanding you with the stubborn, possessive look in his eyes to do as he said.
“Want you so bad, daddy,” you cried, your whole body trembling like a leaf in a bitter autumn wind. Tears of frustration and need were pooling in your eyes again and you knew that if Bucky kept edging you for much longer, they were going to spill down your cheeks. “Want you more than anything—anything—please just fuck me!”
Bucky’s eyes glittered, the possessiveness is his gaze deepening and turning into something feral as he stared up your body. Finally, his mouth pulled away from your quivering thigh—after he placed one last affectionate kiss on the mark he’d left. 
“Tell me you want me more than John fucking Walker,” he spit out, shifting his head to your other thigh and sinking his teeth into your soft flesh as he held you pinned to your bed with his thick biceps wrapped around your legs. 
Your heart fluttered in your chest and your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected to get such a reaction out of Bucky when you’d sent him that picture of your tits with John’s marks all over them. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. Not when he was looking at you like you were his while he sucked yet another mark into your skin.
“I want you so much more than him,” you murmured. “I want your marks on me, I want your cock and your cum in me—I want you, Bucky.”
The words tumbled from your lips—the ones Bucky had demanded—and you were more than a little surprised by the vehemence in your voice, and how easy it was to admit you wanted Bucky more than John. 
Sure, you’d known he was a better fuck than John, but things with Bucky felt right in a way they didn’t with any of the other men on your roster. Like the two of you fit together somehow.
And that scared you. It scared you enough that you rushed on, forcing yourself to raise an eyebrow at Bucky and muster a dry tone as you asked, “Is that what you wanted to hear?” You could detect the hitch of emotion beneath the taunting tone of your voice, but with any luck, Bucky wouldn’t.
Thankfully, he seemed not to notice, responding to your words by growling into the soft flesh of your thigh, his eyes narrowing into a glare. He gave the hickey he’d sucked into your skin one last pull, then pushed himself up. 
Before you could beg again for him to fuck you, Bucky roughly grabbed your hips and flipped you over. His teeth sank so hard into the plush curve of your ass, you screeched into your pillows. There was more pain than pleasure that time, but Bucky knew the edge you liked to walk and he didn’t give you more than you could handle.
As it was, even more wetness flooded between your thighs and you writhed beneath Bucky’s big body, all the small stinging aches of the marks he’d left blending with the pulsing throb of need coursing through your veins. It was enough to break the damn of your tears and you sobbed into your pillows.
“Bucky, please, please, I need your dick,” you cried, straining your neck to look at him over your shoulder. 
Bucky’s dark blue eyes were narrowed into slits and when he finally pulled his teeth from your ass, he continued glowering at you, looking grumpy and almost entirely unbothered by your pleas. You knew he wasn’t entirely unaffected, though, because his cock twitched against your thigh when he saw your tear-stained face.
“Tell me you won’t do it again and I might consider giving you some dick,” he growled, holding your gaze as he ducked down to lick and soothe the bite mark he’d left on your asscheek. 
“I won’t send you another picture covered in John’s marks, I promise,” you rushed to say, arching your back and whining. Your body was moving on its own, trying to present your pussy to Bucky, but he only scraped his teeth over the mark he’d left in your skin.
“Not good enough,” Bucky grumbled, shifting to your other cheek and sinking his teeth into your ass, giving you another bite mark. When you hissed at the pain, Bucky relented, stroking his tongue over the spot as he sucked on your skin. “No one else gets to mark you but me.”
You had to look away to hide the way your eyes rolled at that demand. Bucky wouldn’t commit to you, but he wanted you to promise you wouldn’t let another man mark you. Fucking men. You glared into your pillows, not saying anything and hoping he’d drop it if you didn’t respond.
He didn’t. 
“Say it, baby,” Bucky growled, leaning to the side and slapping your ass. He managed to hit the exact spot he’d bitten, which was tender from his teeth and mouth, making you cry out. “Say I’m the only one allowed to mark you.”
“Men who aren’t my boyfriend don’t get to make demands like that, James,” you snarled, turning to glare at him over your shoulder. 
The two of you glared at each other for a long minute. You knew Bucky could be stubborn, but you could be much more stubborn when you wanted to be—and you fucking wanted to right then. If Bucky thought you were going to let him dictate what you could or couldn’t do with other men while he refused to commit, he had another thing coming.
Slowly, Bucky shifted up onto his hands, climbing up your body with the languid movements of a predator until his bigger form covered your smaller one. 
Still, you glared at each other. 
His hand pushed his sweatpants down until his cock bounced free, the stiff length slapping your ass lightly. His precum immediately started leaking into the valley between your cheeks, and your pussy pulsed in desire.
Still, you glared at each other.
“Say it, or you’re not getting my dick,” Bucky rumbled obstinately, pushing his stiff length between your thighs to drag against your dripping wet slit. 
You sucked in a sharp breath and arched your back, giving him more of your pussy to rub against—but that didn’t mean you were going to submit to his ridiculous demand. And he wasn’t going to turn you into a liar.
“Say you’re my boyfriend, or you’re not getting my pussy, daddy,” you retorted, putting as much mocking sarcasm into the nickname as you could manage. 
Bucky’s eyes flashed with so much annoyance, you couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that curled your lips, which only made his face contort in even more frustration. 
His hand reached between your thighs, pressing his cock deep into your slippery folds until the head caught at your tight hole. But he didn’t push inside. Instead, he let the tip slide through your folds to grind against your clit.
Need and desire pounded an unceasing drumbeat beneath your skin, your hands curling into fists in your blankets as you bit back a desperate moan. But you didn’t let your face go slack with pleasure, you kept right on glaring at Bucky over your shoulder, even as he repeated the motion, teasing your tight little pussy with the head of his big cock. 
Finally, something in Bucky snapped and he ducked down, capturing your mouth in a savage kiss, his lips and teeth attacking yours until both of you were breathless with need. You were practically vibrating with it beneath Bucky’s big body, and even his arms were trembling when you blinked your eyes open as he pulled away. 
“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, baby,” Bucky rumbled, his voice so low and gravelly, you felt its deep tenor roll down your spine and settle deliciously in your core. As he spoke, he tilted his hips just the right amount and pushed the head of his cock into your dripping hole, making both of you groan in pleasure. 
“Right back at ya, daddy,” you quipped at him, your voice embarrassingly breathless as you clung to the blankets of your bed and arched your spine, pushing back into Bucky as he pressed forward. 
It took one long, glorious moment for Bucky to sink the full length of his cock inside your drenched, sopping wet pussy, and you nearly blacked out at how good it felt after so long of his teasing torture. 
He was bigger and thicker than any man you’d ever been with—though you’d never in a million years admit that to him—and it was always a little overwhelming when he first slid inside. But you loved it. You loved the way your body stretched to fit him, the way you could feel your pussy wrapped so snugly around his thick length. You loved the way you could feel him throb and twitch inside you, especially when he was close to cumming. 
And you could tell by the way his cock was twitching inside your tight hole that he was already close. That was good, because after all his teasing had worked you up, you didn’t think you were going to last long anyway.
Bucky gave you a moment to adjust to his size while he yanked his t-shirt over his head. Then he was pressing his bare chest to your back and pushing you deeper into the soft blankets of your bed until you lay prone beneath his strong body.
Only then did he pull his hips back, making you feel every delicious inch of his thick cock, before slamming inside again. Wrapping his arm underneath your neck, he tucked his bicep beneath your chin and held you pinned to his chest, forcing you to arch your spine more and feel the way his hips clapped against your ass as he pounded into you.
“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, baby,” Bucky growled in your ear, grinding his cock into the depths of your cunt until you were whimpering beneath him. “You’re daddy’s good little slut, and only daddy can fuck your pussy the way you need it, isn’t that right?”
“Yes—yes, daddy, you fuck me so good,” you cried out, hands scrabbling at the bed sheets for leverage to push back into him. 
“Tell me what I want to hear,” he demanded harshly in your ear, the words sinking into the deepest parts of your brain. 
A twisted smile curled the corners of your mouth because you knew exactly what Bucky wanted to hear, and you were only too happy to give it to him. It was safer to admit what you were about to admit because it was the heat of the moment, and you hoped Bucky would think you were just saying it to make him happy. Only you could know that you meant every word.
“You fuck me so much better than John, daddy,” you purred, pushing your hips back into Bucky’s thrusts, forcing him deeper into your cunt until you were so full of him, you thought he was imprinting himself on your very being. “Your dick feels so good, so big, daddy—you’re the only man who fucks me so good, Bucky, you’re the best dick I’ve ever had. ”
“Fuck—fuck, baby,” Bucky bit out, his mouth brushing against your cheek, his stubble rasping against your skin and making you shiver. He fucked you harder, faster, rutting into your slick cunt like he was trying to leave another mark inside you. “Rub your clit for me, wanna feel you cum on my fat cock.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. You slid your hand between the blankets and your body, slipping it between your thighs and circling the tight nub of your clit with a viciousness that matched how Bucky was fucking you. Your inner walls clenched down hard on Bucky’s cock, dragging filthy groans from both your mouths as he pushed deeper and began grinding inside you.
“Your pussy feels so fucking good,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “Never felt anything so tight.” He let out a harsh breath, his forehead falling to your shoulder as he kept up his relentless fucking, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of your release. “Feels like you’re choking my cock, baby—I can’t hold on much longer.”
“Choke me, daddy,” the words tumbled from your lips before you could stop yourself, the deepest recesses of your brain responding to Bucky’s words in a plea for one of your darkest desires.
Bucky’s bicep and forearm squeezed the sides of your neck instantaneously, giving you what you begged for and cutting off some of your air so you were forced to gasp for every little breath. You pussy squeezed tighter around his cock, wringing a rasping chuckle from the depths of his chest.
“You’re such a filthy, depraved little slut, baby,” Bucky murmured teasingly in your ear before nipping the shell with his teeth, dragging a ragged cry from your lips. “Ya like it when daddy chokes you, huh? Bet John fucking Walker doesn’t choke you like this, does he?”
“No,” you gasped, your voice hoarse but genuine as you admitted, “He’d never choke me—he’d never treat me like a slut.”
“That’s fucking right,” Bucky growled, somehow managing to fuck you even harder, his hips snapping into your ass so hard, you could hear the sharp clapping of his skin against yours even over his heavy breaths panting in your ear. 
“I’m the only man who can fuck you like you need it—dirty and rough. That’s how you like it, isn’t it, baby—you like being fucked like a slut?”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, as much in response to Bucky’s debauched question as to the feeling of his cock pounding into your cunt. You were so close—so close you could barely think, but you knew everything Bucky was saying was right. He was the only man who fucked you the way you needed it, and you needed to cum on his cock.
Thankfully, Bucky seemed to want the same thing. 
“Cum for me, baby,” he growled in your ear, his hips slamming his cock into your body hard enough to nearly hurt, but the pain-edged pleasure only pushed you closer to your release. “Cum on daddy’s cock while he’s choking your pretty little neck and fucking you like the filthy slut you are.”
Bucky’s words and his cock, and your fingers on your clit, sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and a ragged scream tearing free from your lips. Pleasure consumed you, body and mind alike, until all you knew was the sensation of ecstasy drowning out everything else. 
It went on for one long, endless moment, pleasure pulsing through your being until it finally abated. Then, the world began to reform around you. Slowly, you returned to yourself, Bucky’s cock still driving into you, his thrusts turning wild and desperate as he growled in your ear.
“Fuck, you feel good, baby,” he was rumbling, rutting into you while your pussy squeezed him in a perfect clenching rhythm. “Feels like your cunt’s begging for my cum. Is that it? Ya want my cum that fucking bad, baby?”
“Yesss,” you moaned, your limbs melting beneath him as you savored the feeling of Bucky chasing his release in your body. “Want your cum, daddy, please gimme it,” you whimpered, weakly pushing your hips into his big body in a wordless plea.
Bucky grunted a soft, “Fuck,” and then pressed deep, burying his cock to the hilt in your still pulsing cunt as he came. He let out a long groan, his cock twitching against your inner walls while he emptied his balls into your pussy, the warmth of his cum filling you up.
It felt so good, your lips curled at the edges in a happy smile. Every part of you felt warm and satisfied, and you basked in the unmatched afterglow that came in the wake of getting fucked by Bucky Barnes.
When he was finally spent, Bucky eased his hips back, pulling out of you gently so he didn’t hurt your thoroughly used pussy. You appreciated the effort, even if you did feel a pang in your gut at the loss of him, like your body was mourning his absence.
Bucky rolled off you and flopped onto his back, leaving you limp and sated. 
And cold. 
The man who’d just fucked you better than anyone else ever had made no move to pull your naked body into his, but that wasn’t surprising. Bucky wasn’t the type to initiate post-sex snuggling, though he didn’t stop you from cuddling into him if you initiated it.
Gathering your strength, you heaved your body toward Bucky, draping yourself on top of him, wrapping an arm over his stomach and hitching your thigh over his hip. Your cooling skin pressed to his heated body as you tucked your face into his neck, cooing happily when his arm curled around your shoulders, holding you against his side.
But a post-sex snuggle wasn’t the only thing you’d been looking for. 
Your mouth found the side of Bucky’s neck, your lips working against his skin, kissing and sucking and biting him while he rumbled soft sounds of satisfied pleasure. You didn’t stop until you’d left a hickey, but when you pulled away to get a look at it, you decided it wasn’t enough. 
After all, you were literally covered in his marks. 
So you went back to work, sucking on the hickey until the bruise was so big, there’d be no hiding it—not unless Bucky suddenly started wearing turtlenecks. Somehow, you knew he wouldn’t. You knew he’d wear your hickey proudly, even if it meant he might not get laid until it faded.
When you were finally satisfied with your work, you brushed one last kiss to the hickey, and settled down at Bucky’s side. Your cheek pressed to his chest and you listened to his heart thumping a steady drumbeat beneath his pecs. 
For a moment, you were both quiet, enjoying the feel of each other. Then Bucky fished his phone out of the pocket of his discarded sweatpants, which he’d kicked off at some point. He held the device aloft over the two of you, tilting his head to the side and using the front-facing camera to look at the mark you’d left.
“I guess I deserve this,” he commented, trailing his fingers over the gigantic hickey. There was no anger or annoyance in his tone, though, only amusement. He skimmed his fingers down to your shoulder and gently rearranged your arm until the marks he’d left on the sides of your tits were visible. “Now we’re even.” 
A snickering smile curved your mouth and you were about to retort that you weren’t anywhere close to even, but the soft click of Bucky’s phone snapping a photo cut you off. 
Reaching up, you tapped the screen to show the picture and you had to admit, it was pretty cute. The hickey on Bucky’s neck was prominent and he wore a cocky grin on his attractive face while you smirked into his chest, his marks dotting your skin even though you weren’t revealing too much of your breasts. 
It was the kind of photo you’d consider setting as your phone’s background if Bucky was your boyfriend. 
He wasn’t, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still want it.
“Send that to me,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.
But Bucky must’ve heard how much you wanted the picture, because he chuckled evilly, pulling the phone out of your reach. When you lifted your head to glare at him, there was a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. 
“If I send this to you, you gotta promise not to let John mark you up again.”
That time, you let him see you roll your eyes while you reminded him, “Only boyfriends get to make demands like that, Bucky.”
Huffing a frustrated sigh and giving you a half-hearted glare, Bucky tapped the screen of his phone a couple times. A second later, your phone buzzed with a text and when you glanced at it, you saw he’d sent you the photo of the two of you. 
“Fine,” he grumbled. “I just don’t ever wanna see his fucking marks on your body again.” 
You nodded your agreement, saying, “That’s fair.” It was the least you could do, all things considered.
Bucky laughed to himself at your easy agreement, then pushed you onto your back and spread your thighs while he sat up on his knees between your legs. “Now, smile pretty for daddy, baby. I wanna take some photos of all the hard work I did marking you up.”
A pleased grin pulled across your face. As much as you enjoyed taking pictures and sending them to Bucky, you loved it even more when he wanted to take pictures of you himself. So you laid on the bed and let Bucky position you how he wanted so he could take photos of his handiwork. 
“You gonna jerk off to these when you get home, daddy?” you taunted, staring up at Bucky and smiling for his camera. “Gonna rub your cock to pictures of your marks all over me?”
Bucky’s eyes flashed and his cock twitched between his thick thighs, making your smirk widen. You knew you were provoking him again, but you couldn’t seem to stop.
“You gonna make yourself cum looking at photos of me covered in your marks, daddy?” 
Your teasing comments led to you laying helplessly beneath Bucky, his knees keeping your thighs spread wide so you couldn’t grind against anything while he jerked himself off with his fist. The only thing he allowed you to do was knead and grope your tits, your pleasure mixing with aching pain from the bruises covering your skin. 
Bucky came like that, his cum covering your fingers and chest in ropes of his seed, marking you all over again.
He took even more photos of the sight of your hands playing with your cum-covered tits, then fucked your pussy with his fingers, sounding very pleased with himself when he teased you for getting off on him making a mess of your slutty body and pushing his cum deeper inside you. 
It was late when Bucky finally left your apartment, and you realized you’d been right. It had been a very long night. But even though you knew you’d only get a couple hours of sleep before work, it had been so worth it to text Bucky that photo of your tits covered in another man’s marks.
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Over the next few days, Bucky demanded an endless stream of photos of the bruises he’d left on your tits and ass. He was busy at the office and the two of you couldn’t find time to see each other, but he didn’t want to miss any of the progression of the marks he’d left as the hickeys deepened into a dark plum color on your skin. 
It turned you on to send so many photos, to see the constant reminder of the marks he’d left on your body, so you indulged Bucky every time he asked for more photos. It helped that he responded with a mixture of sweet degradation and filthy praise that had your heart beating harder in your chest and wetness gathering between your thighs. 
Every night for a week, you got yourself off to the dirty things Bucky texted you, the promises of what he was going to do to your body the next time he saw you. But more than anything else, you kept going back to the possessive text message he’d sent the day after he’d been to your apartment, rubbing your clit to Bucky’s words. 
Don’t you dare show John fucking Walker your tits with my marks on them, baby. Those marks on your body are all fucking mine, and they’re only for you and me.
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you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist
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chleem · 9 days ago
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Rest of my life
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One shot: bf drew x gf yn
Summary: babysitting drew’s niece leads to the realization that you’re the one for him.  
Genre: established relationship, fluff
Warnings: so sweet u get cavities
⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me
⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“Which girl did you knock up?” 
Is the first thing you say upon entering Drew’s apartment, your eyes landing on Drew, who has a baby securely strapped against his stomach in a white carrier, the baby looking over at you with doe eyes. 
Drew freezes for a second, then shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he sets a large bag down on the kitchen table. "Oh, y’know, some girl I met on set."
There’s a reason why you and Drew are perfect for each other; the playful banter comes so naturally between you two that it feels like breathing, like there’s no awkwardness in this situation; finding Drew with a baby you’ve never seen before. 
Although, this baby looks oddly familiar. 
“Remember Lils?” Drew asks, as you walk over to him, setting your own bag on the table as well. 
Your eyes light up at the name, recalling the times Drew would show you pictures of his niece. “Oh hi,” you immediately pitch your voice higher, making it soft and playful. The baby, with her big, curious eyes, reaches out her tiny hand, and before you even know it, she’s grabbing onto your finger. 
Her little grip is surprisingly strong, and you can’t help but smile at how adorable she is. “She grew so big,” you comment, looking up at Drew. 
He’s got a soft smile on his lips. “I’know, and I got her for the whole day.”
Your raise an eyebrow playfully at him, “I thought we’re going to the beach today.”
“Yeah, we are,” he emphasizes on that word, his eyes bouncing back between him and Lil. 
Lil lets go of your hand, so you cross your arms at Drew. You roll your eyes, yet the grin on your face gives away your amusement. “Fine. I won’t rob you of your uncle-niece time.”
A chuckle escapes Drew’s lips, and he brings you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your waist. “Lil says it’s okay for you to be there,” his voice, low and playful, as he plants a kiss on your jaw. “Third wheel, you okay with that?”
“Delightful,” you try to sound annoyed at that idea, but really, you looked forward to it. 
Originally, it was a beach date with Drew, but his sister must’ve had some emergency, leading to the sudden babysit. You had no idea that it was going to turn out like this, but you don’t mind. 
Besides, it gives you a chance to see what uncle Drew is like. 
“Aww, don’t be jealous,” he teases, rubbing your elbow, a habit he’s grown into since knowing you. 
“I could never compete with this girl,” you smile down at Lil, whose lips slowly forms an O. You coo at her, playing with her little adorable fingers.
Drew glances down at his watch, snapping you out of the little world you’ve absorbed yourself with Lil in only a few seconds. “Hotdog stand might close. Let’s go.”
“I’m trying the taco one!” You happily chirp, remembering how the last time you went there, a long argument between the two of you resulted in you getting the pizza flavored hot dog. 
“Alright, alright,” Drew assures, taking both of the bags off the table. 
You make an attempt to grab at least one bag from him, but he declines, carrying it all the way to the car himself. 
——
Unknowingly, the whole day at the beach has passed. 
Drew had been so focused on spending time with his niece, he didn’t even notice the way the sky changed. One moment, they were splashing in the shallow waves, building sandcastles, the next, the sun was dipping low.
He walks back to the beach with hotdogs in his hands; buying the snacks now since the crowd has disappeared. 
He replays scenes of today in his mind, thinking about how easy it’s been today. How effortless it felt, spending time with you and Lil. He’d watched you interact with his niece all afternoon—how you encouraged her to explore the sand, showing her the little crabs skittering along the shoreline etc. 
And now, as he makes his way back, he can’t shake the image of you laughing with Lil, your face lighting up when the baby made a funny sound or reached out for you.
He reaches the blanket that the two of you had spread out earlier on the sand, and he glances over your shoulder, expecting to see you playing with Lil. 
Instead, he freezes. 
There you are, holding his niece in your arms. Lil’s fast asleep, her little body relaxed against your chest. 
Drew’s first thought is how cute his niece is. 
His eyes then drift over to you; And that’s when it hits him.
The realization of this moment, the quiet way you’re holding his baby niece, strikes him. His heart skips a beat as he watches you, a quiet warmth flooding his chest. 
The sight of you with her, so natural, so right, feels more profound than anything he expected.
What is this feeling? He thinks.
He tries to shake it off. It’s not just about Lil. It’s about you, the way you make everything feel so simple, so easy. He never expected to see you like this, to see you so gentle, so present.
Is this what love feels like? He doesn’t know. But in that moment, staring at the two of you, something in him clicks. He doesn’t have a name for it yet, but it’s there—this pull, this feeling that maybe, just maybe, everything he thought he wanted was right here in front of him.
“Drew?” 
Your voice is gentle and soft as you call out for him, afraid to wake the baby up. 
Your gaze meets his, and for a second, the world feels smaller. His heart skips again, mind racing around as he scrambles for words in his mind. 
“Hey,” he manages to breathe out, sitting down beside you. He’s careful with his movements, even when handing you your hotdog to your free hand. His lips curl into a soft smile,  almost shy, “she’s out cold, huh?”
He watches as you completely ignore his words, biting down on the hotdog you’ve been waiting for for the whole day. His smile grows; his mind reminded of how easy it is to be around you. It’s not that you’ve said much or done anything extraordinary—just the way you seem to savor the simple things, like food, time spent together—it draws him in every time.
“Good?” Drew asks, teasing hinted in his voice, yet his eyes soften as he waits for your answer. 
“Strange. The pizza flavor’s better,” you comment through chews. 
Laughter erupts in his chest, making you look confusingly at him. You swallow, looking at him with doe eyes. “Let me take her,” he says, his hands reaching for his niece. 
You let him, mainly because of how hungry you are. The exchange is smooth; he now holds Lil in his arms, and you hold onto the two hotdogs, eating away one of them. 
“Y/n?”
You quickly finish the bite, humming at Drew continue talking. He’s looking at you with a soft gaze, almost smitten. He calls for your name, but doesn’t say anything. 
“You want a bite?” You ask, filling in the silence. 
Drew chuckles, and with his free hand, he pulls you by the back of your neck closer to him. He kisses you, slow and soft. You relax under his touch, letting the warm and bubbly feeling flow through you. 
You eventually pull away, needing to catch your breath. Drew’s lips are apart as he stares at you; the look in his eyes making it hard to steady your heartbeat. 
For seconds that felt like minutes, silence lingers between you two, eyes locked into each others’ as if any move, would disturb the calmness of this moment. 
Well, the moment is disturbed, because the smell of poop enters the air, as well as the sound of crying. 
Lil's awake, and in a stinky emergency.
You’re the first to pull away, chuckling as you glance down at Lil. “Shit.”
“Yup,” he purses his lips. You get ready to put the hotdogs down, wanting to help change her diapers, when Drew stops you. “I’ll do it.”
“Do I even have the appetite anymore?” You joke, the smile reappearing on Drew’s lips after hearing that. 
“When do you not?” He comments, setting Lil down and reaching for the diaper bag. 
You hit his arm playfully again, laughter coming out of you. You turn and look out onto the ocean waves, putting the hotdogs down to the side.
This moment right here? You want to remember it always. Remember this beach, this adorable little baby, this hotdog (just important as everything else), and this man, that you’ve found yourself to rely on more than you should. 
You hope Drew feels the same way too; that this moment right now, will forever be engraved in your heart. 
Little did you know; it's already engraved in his, as the moment he fell in love with you. 
The moment he realized, that you’re who he wants for the rest of his life. 
-------------------------------
word count: 1.5k
ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: my first time writing something of pure fluff...hope you enjoyed reading! i was in the mode for something sweet, craving a bf real bad T_T
and yes, im a creep that stalked his sister's ig to find the name of his niece. im sorry im sorry im sorry
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thebestofoneshots · 8 months ago
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A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT | wolfstar x reader
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Pairing: R.L. x S.B. x Reader
Word Count: 9.9k
Warnings: smut, threesome, finger fucking, oral (male receiving), handj*b, dry h*mping, thigh ridding, p in v, Remus is a mess, mild Dom!Remus (if you squint really hard), he might also have a praise k!nk, Sirius is a flirt (danger to humanity honestly), homoerotic scenes(?), you and Sirius can’t take your eyes off Rem, Rem can’t take his eyes off you either, consent is sexy!
Prompt: Sirius and you are art students and you’ve got an assignment, a nude painting, but you can’t paint each other. Trying to convict Remus to model for you was hard enough, but painting him, while he looks so damn stunning, might prove a harder endeavour to accomplish.
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♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut
“So?” Sirius asked as he leaned onto Remus, “would you do it?” 
“Pretty please?” you asked with a small pout and a few blinks. 
Remus sighed, “Why don’t you just paint each other?” 
Both you and Sirius had been trying to convince Remus to be your nude model for an assignment for the last 20 minutes. He was your best friend, and both you and Sirius had always wanted to use him as a model, but had never been too keen to do it, not even clothed. But you needed him now. 
“We can’t do someone we’ve fucked,” Sirius said with a sigh, “We’d already done it otherwise.” 
“Just use each other and draw a face from a magazine,” Remus offered. 
“It won’t work either,” you responded now, “We’ve both been models for the class, they know our bodies.” 
Remus tried not to blush at the thought of Sirius and you, naked in the centre of a room for hours on end while people stared and drew all the small details of your bodies. The details that he assumed had only been seen by the other, now he regretted not taking the class, but scolded himself out of those stupid thoughts. 
He sighed, “Ask James?” 
“Regulus’ gonna do James,” Sirius responded, “He was obviously more than thrilled to oblige him.”
“We wouldn’t be asking you if we didn’t need you, please Moony!” 
Remus looked to the side, licking his lips before biting on the bottom one and sighing, however could he say no to the two of you. “Okay,” he whispered.
“Wait, really?” you asked in disbelief, a huge smile dancing on your lips, it made you look stunning. 
He nodded, “But you’ll owe me, big one.” 
You leaned in to hug him and then Sirius did the same, both of you sandwiching Moony in between the two of you.
“Anything for Moony,” Sirius added. 
Just a few days later, you were outside of one of the classrooms. It was a smaller cosy one that tended to be used for models, with huge windows but near the top of the building so no one would be able to look inside. You had rented it for the rest of the day since both you and Sirius were determined to finish in one sitting, and neither of you was sure if Remus would subject himself to more than that either. 
“You think he’ll come?” you asked as you looked at your watch for the third time that day. 
“He’ll come, luv. Don’t worry about it.”
You sighed, Remus was seldom late. And it took you some time to convince him, you were scared he wouldn’t want to anymore. 
You were fumbling with the keys to the room, and just as you inserted them inside the keyhole, you heard a fumbling at the end of the corridor.  
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, his bag hanging on the side and a coat hanging on the other side. I got held up by the traffic, “I brought the car since it said it was gonna rain, thought I could give you both a ride back, when we were done.” 
You smiled when you spotted him and flipped the keys as Sirius gave you an “I told you so look”. 
Remus was breathing heavily when he reached the two of you, “and then I couldn’t find the room, this place is a bloody maze.” 
Both you and Sirius chuckled at that. “We arrived late to our first class,” Sirius said. “The teacher told us we’d have to find our own model for being late and we made a deal to model for each other, that’s how we met.” 
“I know,” Remus said. He remembered when Sirius and you became friends, first Sirius didn’t shut up about you, then he introduced you to each other, and he understood why Sirius couldn’t shut up about you. Remus and Sirius went way back, they had been friends since elementary, along with James, Peter, Lily, Marlene and Mary. You had quickly gotten along with all of them, and they had made you a part of their little group.  
Finally, the door clicked open and you pushed on it, allowing both boys to get in before shutting it down and putting both the hand lock and the latch bolt. Remus threw you a look. “We’ve heard stories of people walking in on people painting and ruining their stuff by knocking things out. I doubt you’d want someone walking in on you.” 
Remus nodded and moved to sit on the small coach on the side. Thankfully the room was designed in a way to make models feel at ease. There was a music box where you could play tapes on the side, a sofa for them to feel comfortable, and then there was a table in the middle of the room. Both you and Sirius walked to the closet and he pulled on the easels while you went for the props you were planning to use. A small basket filled with fruits. “You brought the sheet?” 
“On my bag,” he said as he nodded to the side. 
“Kay,” you said as you leaned down to get it. 
“You may start changing Moons,” Sirius said, as the boy moved to help him with the easel. They had one in their apartment, and Remus already knew how to set it up from seeing Sirius do it so many times before. 
He swallowed and made sure to finish setting up the easel before nodding and walking towards the table. Sirius was taking off his leather jacket, and Remus attempted to ignore the way his friend’s muscles bent as he did. Sirius had always been beautiful, but this attraction he felt for his best friend was relatively new, he could barely stand it. 
You were still looking for the props when you turned around and spotted Remus pulling his soft brown jumper over his head. He wore a soft beige cotton shirt underneath it that was just a little tight over his arms. You tried not to bite your lips as you stared. Both Sirius and you had talked about how pretty you both thought Remus was, what a shame it was he wasn’t into either of you, if only you knew. 
Sirius gave you an amused look, his lips curling into a mocking smile and his brows shooting up and down. You pushed him lightly with your shoulder and walked toward the table before your cheeks warmed even further. 
“We’ll do mine first,” Remus explained, at least my sketch, Sirius’ next and then we’ll alternate. 
“You’ll do different poses?” Remus asked as he looked up at you, pulling the other shirt over his shoulders little after. Sirius tried not to laugh at the way you were looking at his friend. He had already seen how ripped Remus was, they were roommates, after all. 
“Yeah,” you responded as you got a hold of yourself. “We are gonna make it seem like we drew different people.” 
Remus nodded in response. He was slightly self-conscious about his scars, he’d gotten them as a kid in an accident. His parents were zoologists and worked with wolves, they had taken a puppy home since he was hurt, and Remus thought it was a dog. He pulled the hurt animal out of the cage to “play with it” but accidentally grabbed him from the part he’d been hurt, the animal retaliated by slashing him, face, torso, back, and legs. Remus had been 4 and had no way to defend himself, he also didn’t want to hurt the puppy so he allowed it to happen. When his parents found him, he was crying in a pool of blood, and the wolf pup had hidden somewhere in their garden. 
There was apprehension in your eyes as you stared at his scars, not because they were ugly, you thought Remus was beautiful, but because you thought of the pain they had once caused him. You cleared your throat. “I got this for you,” you explained as you showed him the basket of fruits, you had bought them all yesterday and left them in the small fridge in the room. “You’ll be holding in both of your arms, it’s like a recreation of an older painting,” you explained. 
Remus nodded, taking in the information as he fumbled with the button of his trousers. Half focused on what you said, half mortified over getting naked in front of you and Sirius. 
You pulled the basket in your hands again, “Kind of like this, okay?” you said as you grabbed the basket in the way he would be grabbing it, giving the fruits one last arrangement and taking a picture for reference in case they moved around. He gave you an understanding nod and you gave him a thumbs up in return. Sirius walked over to take Remus’ clothes from the table, and hastily dropped them over the smaller sofa, bringing over a bottle of wine, a decanter and an empty cup. 
“Our concept is based on gods, she’s going for Bacchus,” he explained, Remus was fumbling around with the trousers at the end of his feet, taking longer than he normally would to take off his clothes, Sirius obviously noticed. “She wants to capture the youth and lust of winemaking.” 
Remus gave him somewhat of a stern look and Sirius smiled cheekily in return. “And yours?” he asked. 
“Eros and Psyche,” Sirius responded with a slight tilt of his head. 
“And Psyche?” 
“Don’t worry your pretty head with it yet,” Sirius added condescendingly and got a shove from Remus in return. 
You were looking at the two of them with a smile, you’d always loved the relationship with the two, there was never a time they were more at ease than when they were with each other. 
Sirius sighed, and you smiled. Remus still felt nervous, taking his socks off and keeping his boxers on as he waited for new instructions. Sirius gave him a look as he sat on the window just behind you, and your easel, looking at how you sharpened your pencils and charcoal for sketching. “Would you help me pose him?” You asked, turning your head slightly to Sirius before focusing again on your pencils and canvas, taking a ruler to break down the piece into smaller squares to make sure you got your proportions right. 
Sirius nodded, jumped down from the window seal and picked up the white sheet he’d brought from his backpack. 
“Time to take them off, mate,” he said. Remus swallowed and nodded, taking off his boxers carefully and throwing them in the same direction Sirius had thrown the rest of his clothes. Then he placed his hand over himself and stared in between you and Sirius nervously. You were still focused on your canvas, so you didn’t quite see the interaction, but Sirius did and smiled. He had the inkling little feeling that maybe Remus was into you. He had told you about it but you had shrugged it off, Remus had become something like your best friend, there was no way. 
But Sirius had known Remus for longer than you did, and he knew his friend like he knew the back of his hand –and boy he knew that one well from seeing it so much while painting. And the nervous glances Remus kept throwing your way, made him feel a little more confident of his theory. Perhaps all the two of you needed was a little push, and then that one recurring dream he had could become a reality.
Sirius extended the sheet over Remus and placed it on his arms, just falling off the shoulders like some kind of shawl, he then accommodated the sheet covering one of his legs and his private parts. Remus seemed reassured by that, and Sirius again, tried not to smile knowingly. He then passed Remus the basket and helped him accommodate it in place.
“It's not too heavy is it?” 
“Not right now,” Remus said as he held it between his hands. Sirius then proceeded to place his hands on Remus’ bare back and traced his fingers over his friend’s muscles in a reassuring and discreet manner, giving a light squeeze near his neck. 
“Relax,” he said as he looked at the boy. Sirius had no idea how little relaxing that devious smile of his was, Remus’ skin burned at his touch. “Lean your head back a little bit, would you?” Remus swallowed and did as told, anything to have Sirius step away before he noticed the things he was actually doing to him. “A little bit more,” Sirius insisted and placed his hand on the boy’s neck. Allowing it to linger as he moved him around as he pleased. 
“Hey Angel,” he called, and you looked up, smiling at the sight of the two boys, “Is this all right?” 
“Come here,” you told Sirius, he finally let go of Rem and walked towards you, standing just behind the easel just at your side. “What do you think? Isn’t he a little too stiff?” 
“Yeah,” Sirius responded. 
“Thought so,” you breathed and left your pencil and charcoal on the easel before walking towards Remus. “Close your eyes, would you?” you asked softly. Remus hesitated before doing what told. “Take a deep breath for me, good, that’s good… Remember that time you told me about your trip to Dover? You told me you climbed to the very top of the castle, that it was freezing cold and that no one but you had been brave enough to climb up to the roof. It was empty but there was a thin layer of snow on the ground. So thin that when you pressed your feet, it melted away allowing you to see the stone. 
“You mentioned you leaned over the edges and got to see the castle, the grounds and then, then you got to see the ocean.” Remus' tense self was slowly starting to subdue. “You said you could hear the distant waves, and then you felt a small prickle in your cheek.” 
“It started snowing,” Remus said softly. 
You smiled, took a grape from his basket and placed it near his mouth, pushing it in between his lips. He opened his mouth when he felt the fruit and ate it with a frown, opening his eyes to look at it, and then at you. You were so bloody close to him. 
“There you go,” you said with a smile. “Much better now, keep that relaxed face of yours so I can paint it, will you?” you added teasingly. Remus was munching on the grape with a confused and yet amused face. You gave him a short wink and then went back to your spot, missing the slight flush that coated his cheek. 
“Comfortable?” Sirius teased. 
Remus threw him a look and you swatted Sirius with your pencil softly. “Stop teasing him, he’ll tense again,” you scolded. Remus couldn’t help but smile at the small interaction between the two and you finished up with the sharpening, picking up the pencil and starting to sketch. Remus let his head fall back as you traced, closing his eyes and changing his stance every once in a while, pulling his head off and watching you knit your brows together as you moved your pencil over the canvas. 
“You’re getting the proportions wrong,” Sirius said. “His hand is bigger than that.” 
You grumbled in return, “I know! I just–“ you pulled an eraser and started to furiously move it over the canvas, Remus was looking at the two of you carefully. “I can’t get it to work out.” 
“Want help?” 
“You can’t keep helping me when I don’t get the hands right…” 
“Why not? You always help me with light and shadow, you’re an expert.” 
You sighed, “It’s not the same Sirius.” 
“Yes it is,” he said in a no-nonsense kind of way, then he placed his hand over yours, and started guiding your sketch. “Come on, loosen up.” 
Meanwhile, Remus was looking at the domestic scene between the two with a mix of admiration and longing. The two of you looked stunning as you painted him, both deeply focused on the canvas, with a casual glance straight at his hand holding the basket, he smiled as he saw Sirius lean even closer to you, obviously unnecessary but something Sirius did often anyway. He had never seen his friend as smitten with a human as he had seen him with you. 
Eventually, Sirius let go of your hand and you added a few other touches. “Do you want to start painting or should I start with my sketch first?” he asked. 
You turned your head and stared at the cloudy sky, “I’ll use the sunlamp for my lighting, we can do yours if you want, that way you take advantage of natural light for your drawing.”
He nodded, “Okay, get ready, I’ll work on the canvas.” 
You sent him a short wink and he walked behind his easel. Remus took the time to put down the basket and accommodate the sheet around him a little better. “Cold?” you asked, “we can turn off the AC.” He shook his head. Just self-conscious then, you realised. Well, he won’t have to worry too much about that.
You took your hoodie off and then, but it wasn’t until you took a hold of your shirt and flipped it over your head that Remus realised what was going on. Your hands were behind your bra when he averted his gaze to the side completely blushed. “Sirius, If you’re painting her, can I leave?” 
“Of course not,” Sirius said simply, “I’m painting the both of you.” 
“You what?” 
“Eros and Psyche, remember?” 
“But you said you couldn’t paint people you’ve fucked,” he retorted in a rather accusing manner. 
“Yeah, that’s why I’ll switch her hair colour and you’ll cover her face.” 
“You never said I’d have to pose with your naked girlfriend!” 
“It’s okay Rem, I don’t mind, I’ve been a nude model for the class a couple of times.” 
Remus, as he would naturally turn to look at you when you spoke, but quickly turned his head to the side when he realised you were now completely naked. 
But I do! He thought as he tried to think of anything other than the curve of your breasts. Naked grandma, naked grandma.
You eyed Sirius, “Maybe we can–“ you started, biting your lip. 
“Nonsense. We’re all adults, go on.” 
You gave Sirius a stern look and he gave you back an equally determined one, nodding towards Remus, a clear indication for you to walk his way. 
You took a deep breath but did what he wanted anyway. Walking towards Remus and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, If you really don’t want to do this-“
Remus’ head snapped your way, he focused his eyes on yours as best as he could, “No, I– I just– I wasn’t mentally prepared.” 
You smiled and tilted your head. You could see the self-restraint he was using not to look at your chest, Sirius was really trying not to cackle behind you as he sharpened his pencils, “You can look,” you said, “you’re gonna see them anyway Rem.” He gave you a frustrated frown. You smiled teasingly in return. 
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked. He was about ready to just stare for half a second and then move on with his life but he couldn’t quite look away. Not when he saw them perk up for him, his warm breath so close to you causing such a reaction. 
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Sirius said with a smile from behind the easel. The kind of confident smile of one who knew he could touch them whenever he wanted. 
Remus cleared his throat and looked at Sirius. Naked grandma. NAKED GRANDMA. “Go on with your painting, yeah?” 
“You haven’t even posed,” he retorted with a smile. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “where do you want me?” 
Remus tried not to think of those words, and not to memorise them either. He didn’t want to have dreams about it. Sirius on the other hand, smirked and walked over to the two of you, “Alright mate, time to lose the sheet,” he said as he pulled the one thing covering Remus’ body. While Rem shot to cover himself, Sirius gave you a look and then winked. 
You narrowed your eyes at him as you tilted your head, what the hell are you up to, pretty boy?
“Okay, Moony. I need you to sit on the table.” Remus did as told, “Now open your legs a little bit.” Remus gave a stern look to Sirius but did as told, still using his hands to cover himself. “Please Rem,” he added, “I’ll show you mine and you’ll show me yours? Take those hands off, would you? We’ve both seen plenty of dicks already.” 
You were looking at Remus’ clavicle as he did, trying to avoid the spot that made him so self-conscious, but Sirius was way bolder than that, and he stared straight at his friend’s cock instead. Was that a twitch? Sirius smiled, bit his lip, and turned back to you. 
“You’ll be in between his legs, he’ll have his arms around your arms and his head on your shoulder, is that okay?” 
“Okay,” you said simply. Now, had it been any other person, perhaps you wouldn’t have accepted the pose, but this was Remus, you trusted Remus. 
Remus, who realised there was no use in arguing, did what Sirius had described, leaning forward so you wouldn’t have to stand so close to him. He tried to avoid his chest brushing into yours, ever the gentleman. Anyone else might have just taken advantage. 
Sirius nodded and walked behind his easel again, “Luv, hide your head on his neck, okay?” 
“Mhm,” you said and did as told. Being so close to Remus was making you feel things. He was really warm and strong. You enjoyed the way he held you, Sirius could tell. He also knew you as the back of his hand. 
“Would you mind leaning in a little closer to him?” 
You nodded and did as told. Now your chest was brushing against his, Remus could feel your hardened nipples against his chest, the tip of his ears was now red, even if a good deal of blood was going south. You assumed it was due to embarrassment. 
Sirius had already started to draw, and you decided you’d try and ease him, you bent your elbows and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, allowing his grip to become a lot more secure, “It's okay,” you whispered. “Sirius is way faster at sketching than me, he’ll be over in a second. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.” 
“No, I’m sorry for making this so awkward,” he said softly. “I bet you are used to this and I’m making it weird.” 
“Not really,” you said honestly, leaning your head on his shoulder a little more, that was something you had done often, with clothes, though. “I’ve never modelled with anyone other than Sirius. I only said I would because it would be you.” 
“You what?” Remus asked, you accommodated and your lips accidentally brushed against his neck, he felt the blush spreading, he was losing control. He couldn’t keep thinking of a naked grandma when he had you pressed against him, whispering on his neck, your warm breath against his skin igniting him like a match against dry leaves. 
“I only agreed to Sirius’ pose when he proposed it because you’d be the male model. I don’t like modelling so close to other people.” 
Remus sighed, closing his eyes, his cock was already half hard, and here you were talking to him about trusting him to be the male model, he was a total dick. 
“Luv, lean in a little closer would you?” Sirius asked. 
Remus didn’t even have enough time to give Sirius a warning glance since you confidently did as told, and that’s when you felt it: hard, brushing just under your belly button. You pulled apart just for a second and looked down.
He is huge.
Remus was beet red and staring at Sirius with a mix of exasperation, embarrassment, and anguish. But neither of you seemed to mind, you just pulled your hips slightly back and went back to the previous pose, your nipples brushing against his chest again and making his boner grow even more. 
“It’s okay,” you reassured, “It’s actually quite normal, you’d be surprised how many times it happens.” 
Remus had his eyes closed shut and was trying not to think, not of your soft chest against him, not of your soft breath fanning against his skin, and certainly not of how close your pussy was to his dick. 
You could tell how much more tense he was now. “Do you want to take a break?” 
“No,” he said quickly. “Let’s just get over with it.” The last thing Remus needed was to take a break only for it to happen again the minute your skin came into contact with his. 
“Are you sure? You’re a lot more tense now, Moons,” you said with a frown as you gently brushed your hand on his soft back, tracing a finger over one of his scars without quite realising you were doing it. 
He shook his head, “No, it’s okay.” 
“Remus–“ Sirius started. 
“It won’t work,” he snapped a little harsher now. 
Sirius’s perspicacious look turned into a smirk, he knew he wasn’t imagining things. He gently placed his pencil on the easel and walked over to Remus. “Why not Moony?” 
“Sorry?” He asked, nervous. You felt him tense even further and pulled back, he got a glimpse of your breasts again and he only became harder. 
“Sirius, you’re making him more nervous,” you added with a frown, your hand still brushing reassuringly on his back. 
“No,” he replied, and focused his gaze back on Remus. “I want to know why it wouldn’t work.” 
Remus grabbed the basket that was still lying around and placed it over his lap, covering his ever-growing boner. 
“You don’t have to respond to that, Rem.” 
“He does,” Sirius insisted. 
Remus looked at Sirius in disbelief before huffing. “You’re making your bloody gorgeous girlfriend, pose with me and hug me, and lay her head on my shoulder, all while naked. And you’re looking at us, with that, piercing fucking gaze of yours while you do. A break is not going to help because you’ll make us do it again!” 
Sirius still had a stern face on, but you noticed the small twist on his lips, he was holding back a smirk. 
“Sirius,” you warned. 
“No,” he said and focused on Remus again. “Remus, you think my girlfriend’s gorgeous?” 
“Everyone thinks your girlfriend’s gorgeous.”
“No, Remus. Do you think she is?” 
Remus avoided Sirius’ gaze, red with embarrassment and anger. More at himself than anyone else. His jaw was clenched and his eyes squeezed shut. 
Sirius threw you an amused look and you gave him an impatient one. You could tell he was playing with Moony and you didn’t like it one bit. Sirius, though, wasn’t one to stop things so easily, and he pulled you softly from your spot in between his legs and took it, placing both hands on Remus’ shoulders who just tensed even further. He leaned closer to his ear, “I’m asking you something, Remus.” 
Remus didn’t reply, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching. You were about to pull Sirius back but he spoke again, “I’m asking because–” he tone was softer, the threatening tone from earlier fading into a more lewd one, “It’s okay of you do,” he whispered, and then pressed his lips to Remus’ tense shoulder. Remus’s eyes snapped open and he spotted you, you gave him a short smile, and then he felt Sirius’s lips pressed against him again, “because we both have the hots for you as well,” Sirius mumbled against his skin.
Remus swallowed thickly at that, and you could feel a familiar pulsing between your legs.
Remus pushed Sirius off, the other boy just stared at his friend with a smile, “don’t play with me, Black!” he warned, angry and steady. 
“He’s not,” you interceeded. Sirius was a flirt, it was hard to believe him sometimes, but for you, who had been with him for a while, it was easy to see the shine in his eyes when he saw Remus, it wasn’t there when he saw other men. You walked over to Sirius and took hold of his arm, laying your head gently on his shoulder and allowing your entire front to be exposed to Remus. “The question is, Remus, do you like us back?” 
Remus’ breath was caught in his throat, he wasn’t sure what to respond, could he even?
“And what does that mean?” 
You shot Sirius a glance, there was a silent understanding between the two of you, a small nod from Sirius, and you walked closer to Remus, “It means we like hanging out with you,” you said softly and took a step towards him, “It means we like having you around, It means we like it when your eyes brighten as you speak of a new book you love and it means we love the way your hair falls on your face when you forget your umbrella and you borrow one of ours.” You were dangerously close to him now, “It means we like it when you stand close to us, it means we would like to touch you,” you placed a hand on his leg, and traced from his knee to the thick of his muscle, and left it there while making soft circles with your thumb. 
“It means when we invited you to model for us we were being selfish, we wanted to have more of you than we normally did,” Sirius said, also walking closer, “It means I specifically had to wear bigger pants because I knew the moment I saw you naked along with her, my mind would roam, and take me back to my dreams.” 
“Your dreams?” Remus asked as he gulped, gaze darting between your hand on his leg and Sirius approaching both of you.
“Our dreams,” you interceeded, having him turn back to look at your face. “The question is, Remus–“ You grabbed onto the basket and started to drag it away from him. “Do you want us? Or is this just a natural reaction?” you asked, nodding back to his hard cock, trying not to lick your lips as you did. 
Sirius still hadn’t touched Remus, but he was standing so close he’d only have to lean in to kiss the boy’s neck. “I–“ Remus hesitated, and looked at Sirius, trying to find confirmation. He could barely believe what was going on, perhaps he had fallen asleep on your shoulder and this was just a figment of his eager imagination. 
Sirius smiled and nodded down. His pants were big, but not big enough to hide the tent that had formed in his pants. Remus swallowed again. By now you had already discarded the basket of fruit, a couple of them rolling out and scattering on the floor with a loud thud. None of the three seemed to hear it, all of your gazes were firmly set on each other. 
“It is real, Remus,” you said and leaned close enough to kiss his neck near the spot Sirius had kissed initially. You had wanted to do that while Sirius was sketching the two of you, and you took the chance to finally do it. Still, neither you nor Sirius had touched Remus’ cock, you wanted him to say yes before you did something irreparable. But unlike Sirius, you didn’t leave your kiss as a small innocent one, instead, you opened your mouth to his skin and started licking and sucking lightly. 
A strangled moan escaped Remus’ lips. and you smiled, continuing to kiss him in the same way, eager to hear the sound again.
“Should we take that as a yes?” Sirius asked, voice raspy and low from how turned on he was at the sight of the two of you. 
Remus let out a soft scoff, and then he pulled you from his neck, he hated the disappointed glance you had as he held your face in between his hands. Your eyes were blown with lust and your lips were wet from the kiss. 
You swallowed, ready to pull apart but Remus dragged your head towards his and leaned in just enough to plant a desperate kiss on your lips. You were surprised at first but quickly melted into him, moaning as he dragged his demanding tongue over your lips, which only fueled him further, he wanted to hear those sounds, he wanted to hear the both of you make those sounds over and over again until he was deafened by them. 
“Yes,” he whispered as he pulled apart, panting for air and dropping smaller kisses around your face, “bloody hell yes!” he insisted. 
Sirius leaned in, and whispered on Moony’s ear, “Should have told us earlier.”  He pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, but quickly moved down to kiss the boys jaw, “We’ve been dreaming about you for months.” 
“Imagine my surprise when Sirius woke me up, panting your name,” you said, “I thought it was a nightmare until I felt how hard he was.” 
Remus sighed and leaned his head on your shoulder as Sirius continued to kiss him, you took that as an opportunity to place your hand on his back again, allowing your fingers to feel and touch every single part of him that you hadn’t been able to touch earlier, and that you found absolutely stunning. 
Another moan escaped Remus’ mouth when he felt your hand on his back, and Sirius smiled, the wicked smile of his and he pulled apart from his neck and easily sat on the table before moving behind Remus in a kneeling position, taking both of his shoulder and pulling him back from the hunch he’d been on. The sight of both boys almost set you on fire, Sirius noticed, he noticed almost everything. 
“Moony, love,” he said as he leaned into the boy’s neck and allowed his hand to softly massage Remus’ back muscles, “Isn’t she stunning?” 
You threw Sirius an inquisitive look and he just winked, he seemed to always know what to do. 
“She is,” Remus breathed, eyes hooded as he allowed Sirius to touch him, clearly lost on him. 
Sirius smiled, “I want you to touch her,” he said with a smirk, “touch her like you wanted to touch her when I was drawing the two of you behind the easel. I saw you looking at her, I saw the way your hands fought to stay in place.” 
“Sirius,” Remus warned. 
But Sirirus’ smirk only grew wider, he knew his words were sending both you and Remus into a state of absolute frenzy, all he’d have to do was push you into each other, “Touch her, I know she wants it as much as you do.” 
Remus was hesitant, but he placed his hand on your shoulder and dragged you closer to the two of them in a soft pull. You looked up at him and smiled, squaring your shoulders and allowing him to see your almost throbbing nipples, desperate to be touched, and to be held by either of the two. 
He was slow and hesitant, allowing his hand to fall from your shoulder to your arms, and then to your waist, and to the small of your back. Sirius placed a soft kiss just over Remus’ ear and then whispered, “Touch her, Remus, touch the place you’ve wanted to touch since you saw that little black bra of hers that makes me lose my mind.”
Remus breathed, he remembered the little piece perfectly, he allowed his hand to drag up, and let his thumb rest right under your breast, feeling the soft bounce of it and gently rubbing underneath, an innocent touch, almost a graze, nothing in comparison to the way Sirius would sometimes grab at them, and yet, it was just making you wetter. “Remus,” you whined as you leaned your head on his free shoulder. That seemed to be the fuel he needed to drag his hand even further up and allow his thumb to brush against your nipple. You clenched against nothing as he did, and moaned. He had a small scar tracing just around his thumb, the feeling of textures against your skin dragging you to heaven.
Sirius smiled at your reactions and started to kiss his neck. Which had Remus’ head tilt back in pleasure. That’s when you leaned your hand down again, eager to feel him, you were gentle and decided to give him enough time to stop you if he wanted, but the slow massaging of your hand towards his cock was only making Remus grow harder, a small droplet of precum already coming from his tip. He hadn’t even dared to dream of such a moment, and here you were, making it happen. When your hand finally wrapped around him he let out a breathy moan, his hand on your breast tightening. You smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder. 
“May I?” you asked softly. 
“Please,” he managed to say, Sirius chuckled at his neediness but Remus was quicker and pulled on his hair to drag him to his mouth. The longer-haired boy was surprised at first but quickly smirked into Remus’ demanding kiss, swallowing all the moans that would leave him as you slowly brushed your fingers over his cock. First, tracing a thin line from the bottom to the top, right over the pulsing vein. And then you wrapped your hand around him, firm but gentle, and rubbed the tip with your thumb. 
Sirius pulled from the kiss that Remus chased into just to let you hear his moans and whispered, “Do you hear that, love?” he said as he placed a hand on Remus’ neck to keep his desperate lips from crashing against his mouth again. “You’re turning him into an animal.” 
“We are,” you responded and tightened your grip around him, starting only now to gently stroke. You got to hear another moan from Moony before Sirius returned to kiss him. You leaned your head on Remus’ shoulder again, that place proving to be one of your favourite sports of the night, and started to trace kisses up his neck. You could feel his reactions in the way he would sometimes squeeze your breasts a little harder, or when he moved his hand down your waist. “And he makes such lovely sounds, doesn’t he?” 
Sirius hummed in return, not daring to tear his lips away from the kiss. 
Then you reached Remus’ ear. “If only you knew how wet you’re making me,” you whispered, a sly, fox-like smile appearing on your lips. Sirius threw you a side glance in between kisses and raised one of his eyebrows at you. 
“Show him then,” he said before going back to kiss Remus, but using one of his hands to place it on the boy’s waist. “Pull back a little, Moons.” 
Remus did as told, giving you enough space to be able to climb into the table as well, both legs on either side of one of his, and then slowly you let yourself down onto him, sighting at the feeling of his muscles against your sex. Remus gave you an encouraging squeeze on the waist, and that was enough for you to start grinding yourself onto his leg. Somehow, you managed to maintain the strokes on his cock as you rubbed onto him. 
“Do you feel that, love?” Sirius asked as he broke the kiss to have the two of them look at you. You had your eyes closed and were focused on both your hips and hand movements. You felt Remus’ cock twitch, but you didn’t know it had been because he was looking at you. “Do you feel how wet you’ve made her?” 
Remus looked at his glistening leg as you slid down and then up again, firmly pressing yourself against him, even if it was hard with the position you were in. He flexed his muscles and he felt your hand tremble in his cock, “She’s so pretty, Pads. You get to see her like this all the time?” 
Sirius chuckled and decided to kiss Remus’ neck, so they could both continue delighting at the sight of you riding his leg. Remus seemed hesitant at first, but he dragged his hand down to your waist and towards your leg. Clearly giving in to the temptation to touch.
“Go ahead, she likes it,” Sirius encouraged in a chuckle and Remus didn’t think twice. You stiffened when you felt his hand brush against you as you pushed yourself into him, now opening your eyes to figure out whose hand had been bold enough. You smirked when you realised who it had been. 
“Still curious?” you asked and pushed yourself towards his hand again. 
Remus didn’t speak, instead, he focused on brushing his fingers over your folds which had you sight in content. But Remus was slightly hesitant as if he wasn’t sure how to touch you properly. When Sirius realised the lack of moans, he decided he’d help. He placed a quick kiss on Remus’ temple and then moved behind him again. Allowing one of his hands to rest on Moony’s neck and then using the other to trace his arm until he reached the hesitant hand still brushing against your sensitive spots. 
“Like this,” he said as he took hold of his hand and started making his movements more determined. You moaned at the new, more purposeful touch, and Sirius’ smirk grew. “Slow and determined,” he instructed. Remus himself found your clit after that, and he gently pressed his finger over it, testing. 
“Fuck do that again,” you managed to whisper as you leaned your head on his shoulder again, Sirius placed a soft comforting kiss on your temple, your hands on Remus’ cock becoming dumber as the pleasure consumed you. 
Remus did as told, and you moved your hips towards his fingers almost instinctively. “Such a fast learner,” Sirius praised, and you’d swear you saw Remus inflate slightly at his words. 
“Yeah, Moony!” you sighed, voice mellow, something in between words and a moan. “You’re amazing,” you added as you kissed his neck, chasing all the way to his mouth. The hand that Sirius used to teach him, had long forgotten its purpose and had somehow found its way to your breast, pinching and squeezing like he knew you loved. His lips glued to Moony’s neck in the meantime. 
Moony pressed a tentative finger to your entrance, you smiled into the kiss, and pushed into him, he bit your lips as his finger dug inside you, “Fuck,” he whispered into your mouth, “so tight.” You clenched around him, as you pulled from the kiss and brushed the tip of his cock with your thumb, you were eager to hear another one of those melodic moans of his. And you did, reeling on the power he had given you before going back to kiss him. 
“She is Moony, it’ll feel insane around your cock too, I promise,” Sirius whispered to his ear. If you had been thinking properly, you might have swatted him for assuming how things would end, but the idea of having Remus’ cock inside of you only made you wetter, your hips chasing his finger a little more desperate as you used it to chase your own pleasure. 
Remus used his free hand to take yours from his cock and placed it on his shoulder since he knew that would help you be a little more steady, he missed your touch, but the moans he pulled from you were enough compensation. He went for another finger and you moaned at how much more full you felt. Remus had longer fingers than Sirius did, and the scars added a layer of textures that you had never felt before but that you could easily get used to. 
His touch was much more curious and soft than Sirius’ had been the first time, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t aiding you into a state of absolute bliss. Sirius, ever the clever, figured out you were close in a second. He pulled Moony deeper into the table, pulling you along with him, took off his shirt and moved behind you. Both of his tights around yours, Moony’s in between. He pressed himself onto you allowing you to feel his warm and slightly sweaty skin. You could feel his boner pressing onto your ass which had you sight in pleasure. 
“How’s that, my love,” he said. “Do you like having Moony’s hand all over you? His fingers inside?” 
“Sirius,” you sighed. His hands were now on your hips, helping you ride Moony’s fingers with much more ease. Moony’s fingers got faster, and you could feel Sirius holding back from dry humping you from behind, his hips sometimes chasing against your ass, you had neglected him a little. “Like that,” you managed to whisper once Remus did a particular movement, a flick of his finger, and he instantly repeated it. 
“She’s close Moony,” Sirius warmed as he felt you tense, he moved his hands on your body reassuringly, but in the way that he knew you loved, you tensed, tightening around Remus’ fingers, and then let out a long, and quiet moan. “There you go,” Sirius added softly as he brushed his fingers over your leg, both of them helping you ride down from your high. Eventually, Remus took his fingers from inside you and placed a reassuring hand on your leg. You closed your eyes, head still pressed onto his shoulder as you breathed in, Remus had always smelled delightful, but you’d swear he smelled even better today.
You then reached your hand down but Sirius beat you to it, “My turn,” he said as he pushed you closer to Remus and took a hold of his cock. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked Remus with a smile, knowing well his answer. 
Remus gulped and shook his head, which had Sirius smile like a wolf and start playing around with his friend’s cock. He clearly knew what he was doing much better than you did since he had Remus panting and moaning a lot faster than you had. He also had you firmly pressed against Remus as he touched him, if you had wanted to –which you obviously didn’t– you wouldn’t be likely to get out in between the two. Still, you busied yourself with kissing Remus’ neck again, that spot that you seemed to be addicted to.
Remus sighed, and you started to brush your hands all over his body, moaning and grunting growing louder. Sirius felt his friend’s cock twitch in his hand and he knew he was close, so he stopped. Remus gave him a pleading look but he pulled his hand back completely and the you along with him. You didn’t realise what was going on until you saw Remus’ throbbing cock and confused look. 
“Sirius!” you reprimanded. Remus seemed to be struggling to form proper words. 
“He won’t get to fuck you if he comes into my hand,” Sirius responded then leaned his head into your shoulder and looked at Remus with a knowing pout. “Would you rather come into my hand than feel her tight little pussy around you, Moons?” 
Remus scoffed. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting by getting sexually involved with Sirius Black, but he should have fucking expected this kind of behaviour.
Sirius smiled, “How about we help him cool down a little but keep him hard, darling?” 
You leaned your head back onto Sirius, opening your legs a little for Remus to get a better view of your glistening sex. “What do you like, Remus?” You asked in the most innocent tone. As if you were asking about the taste of ice cream he preferred and not the kind of shit that turned him on. 
But frankly, neither you nor Sirius would have to do anything special to turn him on, he already pretty much worshipped you. Remus was still at a loss of words, he stared at both of you, then down between your legs and then up at your faces again. 
“Do you want me to eat her out?” Sirius asked as he tilted his head. 
“Or would you rather see me blow him?” 
“Cowgirl?” 
“Doggie?” 
Remus was sure that if you didn’t stop you, you might just list the entire kamasutra before he made a choice, “anything.” 
You tsked and shook your head, “No, Moons, that’s not the deal,” you replied. “What do you want?” 
Again, he saw you tense and relax between your legs as you asked him, and he didn’t miss the smirk that drew on your lips when he started. “I want” –he hesitated– “touch him.” 
“Your wish is my command,” you said with a smirk and instantly turned to Sirius, making sure to have him spin around enough so that you wouldn’t have Remus just look at your back, although he would have been more than happy staring at the way your ass moved. 
“Did you hear that, Pads?” 
Sirius hummed in response as he helped you accommodate, you were now cradling him. You first went for a kiss, soft, but demanding, as you two kissed, you lowered one of your hands and gripped Sirius over his pants. He moaned into your mouth and you pulled back from the kiss, no matter how addictive his lips were, you wanted Remus to hear his precious moans as well. 
Remus’ hands were itching to go back to his cock when he heard Sirius’ moan. He was too pretty, both of you were, he could still barely believe what was happening, but he sure loved every bit of it. “Help me get this off,” you said as you turned to Remus and pressed your hands onto Sirius’ belt. 
He raised his eyebrows amused and you gave him a short wink. He did as told. Leaning in closer and unbuckling the belt before sliding it off Sirius who was a moaning mess since your hand was still on him. Once Remus managed to move the button off, you were quick to digg your hand in and Sirius raised his hips a little to take it off along with his boxers. 
Remus’ cock twitched when he saw Sirius’ hard and proud. He wanted to touch it as much as he wanted to see you touch it, but he wasn’t sure Sirius would want him to touch it so instead he moved his desperate hand to the boy’s neck. You smiled at that and brushed yourself against him, passing his cock over your folds a few times to coat him with your wetness before gripping at him securely. 
“Sto–p teasing,” Sirius managed to say, and you laughed, placing a soft kiss to his cheek before wrapping your hand around him and starting to stroke. Remus seemed fascinated by the way you moved your hand on Pads, like you knew exactly what he wanted when he moaned or moved his hips slightly to the side. At some point Sirius started to chase your hand with his hips as well but Remus placed his hand on his legs to keep him down. Sirius turned to the boy with a frown and Remus smirked.
“I said I wanted her to touch you, not for you to fuck her hand,” he replied in a low tone. 
You giggled at the stifled moan that left Sirius’ lips when Moony said that, and continued with your strokes, turning your wrist so you had a bit more control and toying with the tip whenever your thumb got close enough to it. 
“Close,” Sirius breathed and you smiled, looking at Moony with a small smirk before pulling back a little from both of them but still stroking. Then you pulled further down and Sirius almost came in your hands at the mere image of what you were about to do. You pressed a kiss to kiss your stomach, and gently lowered down, allowing your nipples to brush over his cock causing him to shudder. 
You licked your lips before going down and pressing a soft and gentle kiss over his tip, you could feel the blood rushing and his cock twitching. You then pressed your tongue to him and Sirius let out a low, almost imperceptible groan. The first, soft splurt of his cum fell on the outside of your mouth before you wrapped your lips around him and sucked the rest of him dry. By the time you were done, Sirius was panting and gripping onto Remus’ leg as he attempted to catch a breath. You raised yourself back up to look at them both. 
You opened your mouth to show you had yet to swallow it all and then turned to Remus, “Want a taste?” 
Sirius was already sore, and yet when Moony nodded and pulled you in for a desperate kiss, he swore he felt himself twitch again. In a matter of seconds, you had climbed onto his lap, leaning into the kiss and only pulling apart to see his reaction, a line of spit still connected the two of you as smirked. 
“Fuck,” Sirius said in a low moan at the sight. 
“How was it?” you asked as you bit your lip. 
Remus tilted his head and dragged your hips to his, “Is not over yet, is it?” 
“I meant the taste,” you replied as you rolled your hips on his cock. 
He licked his lips, and laid his head on your shoulder as he looked at Sirius. “Fucking delicious,” he said.
You pressed a soft kiss to his neck. “Bet,” you added before rolling your hips against his again. “Ready?” 
“Mhm.” 
“Good,” you said, and then lifted yourself, brushing on his cock a couple of times before bringing your hand down to it, brushing his tip on you, making sure to brush your clit, and then slowly, sinking yourself onto him.
You breathed out as you did, getting used to his size, and he waited patiently for you to finish. 
“You all right?” he asked softly. 
You let out a breathy “Yeah.” 
“Tell me when I can start moving.” You squeezed your walls around him. “Fuck–“ 
Sirius laughed from the side and placed a hand on Remus’ arm, “Did I not mention she has a tendency to do that? I almost came the first time she did it to me.” 
You squeezed again and then started to move, slow and steady at first, Remus was a groaning mess again and it only fueled your resolve to continue moving and squeezing, eventually, his hips started thrusting up into yours and your movements seemed to synchronise. 
“Touch her too,” Sirius suggested and Remus did as told, quickly bringing one the hands that rested on your waist to your clit. You started to roll your hips so you could increase the pressure and he helped by moving his finger closer. 
“Is that good?” 
“Fuck yes,” you responded. 
You continued for a while, and you felt Remus get extremely close, if his moaning indicated anything but then he stopped thrusting into you and you slowed your pace with a questioning frown. 
“Can…” he panted. “Can I try something?” 
You nodded in return and Remus smiled, he pulled you up with his hands on your waist –his cock still inside you– and flipped you around, now your back was laying on Sirius’ chest and you could feel his semi-hard on your ass. 
“Moony what are you–“ he started but was shut up by a kiss as he thrusted into you. Both the kiss and your asscheeks brushing onto him had Sirius harden even more as Remus thrust in and out of you. 
“Touch her the way she likes,” he said to Sirius in between kisses and the other boy did exactly that, chasing in between the entanglement of bodies until he found your clit, tentatively, he brushed his hand down to feel where Remus and your body connected and Remus moaned at the feeling of Sirius’ hands on him again. “I said touch her,” he added with a sigh, “I want her to come again.” 
Sirius smiled and pressed a short kiss to Remus’ lips. “Your wish is my command.” 
Seconds later Sirius’ expert fingers were on you, brushing and circling your clit the way that made you brainless, your ass pressed onto his cock and Remus rutting into you quickly made you feel absolute bliss. 
“I’m about to–“ 
“She as well,” Sirius said as he felt the way you moved on top of him. 
Remus reeled at the thought and groaned out as he started to come, he tried to pull out but Sirius was quick to keep him in place. “She’s taking something,” he said simply, and that was enough for Remus to allow your walls to milk him. As he did, Sirius was fast with his hand and you were cumming on Remus’ cock, squeezing him even more as his pace started to slow down. 
Sirius, who was already sore, came for the second time that night a little after, surprising you since you were not expecting to feel the sticky wetness against your ass. 
Remus felt it too, since part of it spluttered all the way to his legs and he looked at Sirius with a mildly impressed stare. 
“You two are fucking hot,” he said, unapologetically. Remus pushed into you a couple more times and then he allowed his weight to fall on both of you. 
“Too heavy?” he managed to ask. 
“No,” you said as you accommodated your head next to Sirius’ and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. He sighed in contentment.  
Eventually, Remus drew himself out of you and then pulled back from his position on top and instead laid with his back against the table. He bit his lip, “I guess you’ll have to find another model.” 
“No way in hell we’re ever gonna look for another model,” you said with a laugh, also rolling from Sirius and letting yourself fall right in between the two of them, “Moony’s just perfect, isn’t he?” 
“Thought you couldn’t paint someone you’d fucked…” he breathed. 
Sirius laughed, “Well, they don’t have to know we’re a thing…” 
Remus felt so many emotions at once, you were a thing, but also Sirius doesn't want people to know.
“…until after we’ve handed in the paintings, and gotten our grades,” he added with a cheeky smile. 
“Besides, the sun is gone,” you added. “We’ll have to come back another day.”
“Didn’t you mention a sunlamp or something?” Remus asked.
“We’ll have to come another day,” you repeated with a smirk. And Remus gave you an impressed look. 
“Do you guys have anything to do?” Sirius asked.
You shook your head and Remus said a quick “No.”
“Why?” you asked.
“I think Prongs is sleeping over at Reggie’s.” 
“Is he now?” Remus questioned. 
“I thought we could have a sleepover of our own.” 
You scoffed a laugh, of sleep, it wouldn’t have much.
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bluetimeombre · 3 months ago
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˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪ ᴄᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ? ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
˚୨୧⋆。You go on a date and you know old man Logan is gonna hate it.
warnings: smut, daddy kink, rough, penetrative sex, old man logan (not a warning, a blessing really) praise, oral (male receiving)
You knew as soon as you walked back to the complex you were in trouble, you could practically smell it in the cold air of the night. The message only further iterated when you found Logan waiting outside for you.
‘A date, huh?’
It was only a small thing, some guy in your tiny diner asked you out and of course you were gonna say no at first- you had Logan, but did you really have him? Or was it just circumstances that had the two of you together.
Logan was older and he hated most things. Most of the time he was even gruff and short with you. It had been forever since he’d last touched you so you thought where was the harm.
It took less then five minutes for him to show you the harm.
He had you chest pressed against the wall, your dress hiked over your hips and his cock stuffed between your folds. He held your hips and thrusted without remorse, almost intent on hurting you.
‘You think a young fella knows just how you like it?’ He grunts in your ear, biting down on the flesh there. ‘You think this old man can’t give it to you like you want, huh bub?’
‘Please,’ your fingers scraped the wall.
‘You just wanted me to fuck you, is that it? C’mon, tel me baby.’
‘Yes!’
‘Yes what?’ He chuckled.
‘Yes I wanted you to fuck me.’
Logan pulled out for just enough time to spin you around before sliding into you again. He groaned at your walls fluttering around him and hoisted you further up. ‘Oh you’re such a needy slut, huh. You just had to go out with any cheap dude to get your way.’
Beyond the howl of the wind you could hear the slapping of skin.
Your nails dig into his shoulders, grounding yourself as your head slips against his. ‘Need you all the time.’
He chuckled and groaned at your walls clenching. ‘I know you do bub, just need your old man to take good care of you.’
You nod, moaning into him.
He kept on mumbling, branding you with his words.
‘Cunts only made for my cock, it can’t bare anything else.’
‘Only- fuck- only I can make you feel this good’
‘Never gonna let you go bub.’
It was a good thing you were once an x-men yourself and could get your leg up as Logan threw it over his shoulder, reaching that part that made you shiver. Your nails dug in and as his healing factors slowed, you drew blood.
‘Enough to bring a man to his knees,’ he groaned.
‘I’m gonna cum,’ you gasp.
‘That’s it, good girl, come all over this cock. Make me a happy man.’
He thrusted into you until you came and soon after he followed, pressing you into the wall as he grunted loudly into your shoulder.
∴.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.♡ .·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.∴ ∴.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.♡ .·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.∴∴.·:¨¨:·.
That night sleeping had been hard, your mind and body replaying Logan’s touch. You had been up half the night touching yourself, wondering if Logan could smell you and would come help- but he didn’t.
So you went to work in the diner the next day. It wasn’t until the afternoon anything remarkable happened.
Logan walked through the door, jacket on and glasses perched on his nose.
You startled, he’d never visited you at work before. ‘Logan, what are you doing here?’
‘You have coffee right?’ He asked. ‘I want coffee.’
For the rest of the afternoon, into the evening he sat and drank coffee. He flicked through a paper or scrolled on his phone that he could barely work but he didn’t leave. He just kept drinking coffee.
You were on the close, only you. And Logan.
‘What are you doing here?’ You asked as he gave you his coffee mug.
‘Had to be sure you wouldn’t be tempted on another date,’ he said.
‘I’m not.’
He rose his brows, walking the length of the counter. ‘Did i remind you you only need me, last night, bub?’
Logan made his way around the counter, standing in front of you. He cupped your chin, tilting your head back.
‘Yes, Logan,’ you say over his grip.
‘Good.’ He kissed you, biting on your lip immediately to get you to open for him. He pressed you against the counter and dug his hood into you.
You gasped at the feel of him under his trousers, his cock heavy.
‘You think I didn’t hear you last night, begging for more,’ he said, breathless against your lips. ‘You want more, I can give you more princess.’
Before you knew it, he had you under the counter on your knees, his cock sliding against your tongue.
‘Fuck, Princess. I can’t ever let this mouth go to waste,’ he grunted. One of his hands was wrapped around your hair, guiding you slowly while the other gripped the counter.
He wished he could say he could go all nights, but he wasn’t as young as he used to be. If you kept it up, he’d finish in minutes.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head as his jaw clenched. Beyond the radio, he could hear you gagging around his cock as he pushed further and further in. ‘That’s it bub, take it so well. All the way in, yeah.’
His balls dangled close to you, the hairs around his cock ticking you as you took him out and then back in, spit getting down your chin and over him. ‘Filthy little thing, aren’t ya?’
Suddenly, the bell over the door jingled.
‘Closed!’ Logan yelled.
‘I’m looking for Y/N,’ said the guy.
He felt you still.
You took him from your mouth but never had the chance to speak as Logan gripped your hair and forced his cock back through your lips.
‘What do you need her for huh?’ Logan asked. You were hidden so well the guy couldn’t see you, but you recognised his voice. You’d heard it draw on and on last night.
‘What are you, her father?’
‘I- shit- I take care of her if that’s what you mean.’
You wondered if the guy was suspicious why Logan was standing so close to the counter, gripping it with a hold that turned white. You moaned around his cock, testing your limits.
Logan stuttered.
‘Well I took her out last night and wanted to see what she was doing tonight?’ Asked the guy, voice edging on cocky.
You gripped Logan’s thighs and breathed from your nose, taking him as far down as you could.
‘She’s busy tonight.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Sucking me off, for starters.’
You grinned, taking his cock and liking it up and down.
‘Excuse me?’ He asked.
Logan looked down at you. ‘Almost there baby, just the tip now.’
You obliged, swirling your tongue over the tip before taking him half way and letting your hands work what you couldn’t take.
The guy scoffed. ‘Are you?’
‘About to finish in my pretty girls mouth, yea. You might want to beat it.’
He let go of your head as he groaned and came in your mouth just as the door slammed shut. You sucked every last drop, humming around him until he was trembling.
Once you were finished cleaning him up you stood back in front of him. ‘So, should I start calling you daddy?’
just a quick little thing because I drool over old man Logan
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littlelamy · 2 months ago
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secret relationship: drew starkey x actress!reader
you and drew had been dating for a few months, ever since the press tour for your movie, a rom-com, one bed trope. it was praised for reigniting the magic of 2000s romantic comedies, and while audiences fell in love with your on-screen chemistry, something else bloomed off-screen.
late nights on set led to dinner dates, and those turned into hours spent together, where you realized this wasn’t just a fling. drew wasn’t like anyone you had been with before, he had this balance of sweetness and intensity that made your head spin. he was gentle, attentive, but still had that edge, a possessive spark that made your pulse race. it was something mature, sexy, and new, a relationship you hadn’t experienced in a long time.
for the last few months, you’d both agreed to keep it private. you weren’t ready to give the world access to something so special. and while there had been whispers in tabloids, rumors here and there of how close you two were getting, blind items about your late-night parties, nothing had been confirmed. it was fun, in a way, keeping it just between the two of you.
but tonight, things felt different.
as you stepped into the crowded after-party, drew’s hand pressed possessively against your lower back, close to your ass. his touch was warm, firm, and grounding in the chaos of celebrity-filled rooms and clinking glasses. you felt his breath on your neck as he leaned down, voice low enough to be just for you.
“you think they [paparazzi] saw us come in?” his fingers curled slightly, pulling you closer. “i didn’t see anyone, but…i caught a couple flashes.”
you tried to keep your expression relaxed, a soft smile playing on your lips as you glanced up at him. his jaw was clenched just slightly, a subtle giveaway that he was more nervous than he let on.
“i didn’t see anything, baby,” you murmured, trying to ease his tension, your fingers tracing small circles over the back of his hand. “let’s just relax, okay?”
you guided him through the crowd, weaving between other actors and industry people. pulling him into your usual spot—an intimate corner tucked away from the main party, but still with a good view of the room. drew’s hand stayed on you, never breaking contact, a subtle reminder of how protective he was.
finally, you reached the familiar space. drew leaned back against the wall, pulling you into his chest. you looked up at him, your bodies so close that you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing. there was something about the way his eyes looked tonight, darker, more intense. it sent a thrill through you.
“come on, baby,” you whispered, fingers brushing against his jaw. “let’s dance.”
without waiting for a reply, you moved against him, your hips pressing into his in a slow, teasing rhythm. drew’s breath hitched, his hands instinctively gripping your waist tighter. his eyes never left yours, filled with a mix of desire and amusement.
“you’re trouble, you know that?” he muttered, voice rough, as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear.
“only for you,” you teased, enjoying the way his body responded to yours. there was something exhilarating about being so public, yet so secret, as if the world around you didn’t exist for those few moments.
drew’s fingers trailed up your sides, slipping under the hem of your dress, grazing the bare skin of your back. you shivered under his touch, leaning into him even more. “you know we can’t keep this quiet forever, right?” he whispered, his lips brushing against your earlobe, sending a spark of heat through you.
you pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, your heart racing at the idea. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell people, hell, you wanted to scream it from the rooftops some days, but the idea of losing this intimate, private world you had created scared you.
“i know,” you said softly, your forehead resting against his. “but not yet. i like having you to myself.”
drew smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “you’ve got me, baby. no matter what.”
before you could respond, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye, flashes. your heart skipped a beat as you realized there were paparazzi at the edge of the room, cameras ready, zooming in on every move you made. drew noticed too, his grip tightening slightly on your waist.
“shit,” he muttered under his breath. his body tensed, and you could tell he was debating whether to pull away or hold you closer.
you grinned up at him, a daring look in your eyes. “let them watch.”
with that, you leaned up, pressing your lips against his in a slow, lingering kiss. it wasn’t rushed or hidden, it was bold, claiming your space, claiming him. drew responded immediately, his hand cupping the back of your head as he deepened the kiss, completely forgetting about the cameras for a moment.
when you finally pulled away, your cheeks flushed, both from the kiss and the thrill of being caught, drew just looked at you with a mix of admiration and amusement.
“you’re really not worried, huh?” he asked, shaking his head slightly, a chuckle escaping his lips.
you shrugged, biting your lower lip as you looked up at him. “nope. they were going to find out eventually.”
drew laughed softly, pulling you in for another quick kiss, his lips lingering on yours just a little longer this time. “guess the secret’s out,” he murmured, his voice low and warm.
as you stepped back, hand in hand, you felt the weight of the cameras on you, but it didn’t matter anymore. drew was yours, and now the world knew it too.
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distantdarlings · 5 months ago
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OUT OF IT // t. nott
RATING: R / 4.4K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert
+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theodore Nott has been your best friend for years, but the closeness that you’ve gained throughout your friendship proves to be a little too intimate for the two of you to handle.
+ WARNINGS - SMUT! PIV - no protection, fingering, light nipple play (f!receiving), dirty talk, tension, top!Theo, bottom!Reader, fem reader, language, super NOT proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
Again (Sped Up) - Noah Cyrus
(Okay! So prep for this was super rushed bc I am about to go on vacation and just got done with a ton of work. I’m very sorry this is so quick and frazzled—hopefully you all can look past it. Thanks for your patience.)
- - -
The dimly-lit corridors always felt so cozy around this time of the evening. The skies outside were pitch black and the only form of light was the flickering, honeyed candles mounted to the stone walls every few paces or so. A rather clever spell had been cast on them to keep them from dripping wax all over the floors.
You combed your fingers through your hair, letting the strands slide across your skin. Keeping your hair pinned up always gave you just a bit of a headache, but being able to take it down after classes was a relief like no other. Your fingernails scratched lightly over your scalp in an attempt to reestablish some blood flow throughout.
After a particularly difficult day, you wanted nothing more than to eat a quick dinner and then crash into your bed. You felt as if you’d been going non-stop since waking up this morning with nothing but a bagel and some tea in your stomach for the whole day. You were sure if you spoke to a muggle physician, they’d have some choice words for you. You could practically feel the dark circle sprouting beneath your eyes.
You turned one final candle-adorned hallway before arriving in front of the Great Hall. You arrived on the later side of the allotted dinner times, but you knew the food would stay on the table until the last student who intended to eat arrived. That was part of Hogwart’s lovely charm.
A wave of warmth from the fireplace in the corner washed over you like a blanket. The sudden temperature change brought on a case of chills across your body. A small shudder flowed through you.
Your eyes scanned the table on the far end of the room—its dark wooden surface topped with deep green runners and dishes of food. Sitting alongside the farthest end of the table were the most familiar faces in the entire school. A gentle smile appeared across your lips at the sight of your friends chatting and laughing together.
You approached the table with the same smile painted on. As you drew closer and caught a few eyes, you raised your hand for a polite wave. All of a sudden, you were a bit more awake than you had been.
A set of bright eyes turned and locked with yours, prompting a jolt of energy through your chest. You settled in next to the owner of those special eyes, allowing him to wrap his arm around you and pull you in close.
“How are you, tesoro?” Theo asked, pressing a small kiss to the side of your head.
“It was good. What about you?” you asked. He shrugged and flashed you a smile. He’d never been one to talk much about his day.
You gathered some food onto your plate, Theo never taking his arm from around you even when he went back to eating.
“So, how was everyone’s day?” Enzo asked cheekily, eyeing the two of you. The young man in front of you had always had a deep insistence that you and Theodore Nott would be the perfect couple.
“You’re perfect for each other,” he would say. “You compliment each other so well, plus you’re already so comfortable around each other!” To which, you’d always laugh and shake your head, only mostly ignoring the fantasies that would twirl through your mind after the fact.
You were not going to date Theodore Nott. He was your best friend—had been for years.
“Fine, thanks,” you replied snarkily, popping some kind of berry into your mouth. It crunched between your teeth pleasantly, bleeding dark, sweet juice. It was unlike any other fruits you’d ever tasted, but you never knew what you were going to taste at Hogwarts.
“Mm, you’ve got a bit of—” Theo started. Still chewing on a bit of food, he ran the thumb of his free hand over the corner of your lip and promptly placed it against his tongue. He sucked the flavor off of his skin, then turned back to his dinner.
It didn’t much bother you, just ignited a bit of heat against the wall of your gut. Mattheo and Enzo, however, acted like they’d just seen someone hurl into the dinner bowls.
“Hello, friends!”
The group turned to face Pansy Parkinson. A dainty, but lean girl with striking black hair cut across her cheeks in sharp, even lines. She was truly one of your only female friends, considering how often you hung around a male party.
“Hey, Pans!” The group chorused, offering lazy waves and full-mouthed smiles. She smiled a bit and took a seat next to Enzo. She selected an apple from the bowl just before her and took a large chunk out of it, her pale eyes flicking around the table.
“Why are you all so quiet?” she mumbled around chunks of apple.
Enzo snuck his arm down beneath the table and discreetly bumped Pansy’s ribs with his elbow twice. They were sure you hadn’t seen their little gesture that translated to ‘I’ll fill you in later,’ but you most definitely had.
You struggled not to roll your eyes as you knew they’d gossip for hours about how you and Theo would be the perfect couple. Honestly, it used to bother you a bit, knowing your friends were talking about you behind your back. But with a quick and direct questioning of Enzo, you realized that they weren’t so much gossiping about you as they were rooting for you. Their support didn’t matter, though. You would not be dating Theodore Nott.
***
That night, as you had begun to settle in for bed, you found yourself thinking of Theo. You always thought of him around bed time. There was never really a time when your best friend wasn’t floating around your head, but at night, when you were recapping your day, you thought of him.
Theo had a nasty habit of popping into your head at the worst of times. During tests, holidays with your families, your dreams, and even when you…when you would get into bed and slide the velvet drapes hung around the frame shut, and let your hands slide beneath the covers.
You swallowed thickly at the thought. You would not be dating Theodore Nott. No matter if he did cross your mind when you touched yourself. You inhaled shakily and slid beneath the covers, ignoring the ache in your chest and the pulsing between your legs.
***
The next morning, you found yourself wandering down to the Great Hall just as you had done the night before for dinner.
And just like last night, Pansy, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo were waiting for you just like they always were.
You slid into the space beside Theo and laid a sleepy head against his shoulder, letting a slightly dramatic huff out.
“Oh dear, looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Theo teased, placing a kiss to the top of your head. The audience members before you each made a different face at the show of affection. It never bothered you and it had seemingly never bothers Theo, but your friends had a habit of turning it into something it didn’t need to be.
“Yes, I did,” you sighed. “I barely slept a wink last night—I was tossing and turning all night.” Which was not a lie, but a bit of an understatement. Your sleep had been plagued with visions of Theo.
Theo looking at you, Theo kissing you, Theo touching you, Theo Theo Theo. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Theo looked down at you. You met his eyes.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
“Yes, why?”
“You’re clenching my arm really hard,” he chuckled, glancing down at your clutched fist around his arm. Oh. You quickly let go of him and apologized, embarrassed that he was having such a physical effect on you. You’d never been so distracted before. Sure, you’d had these thoughts of Theo before but it had never affected you in your everyday life, and certainly not in front of him.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Enzo interrupted. You turned and the three sitting across from you all seemed to be staring with concern.
“You seem out of it…,” Mattheo said, looking you up and down. Pansy voiced a small agreement.
“I’m fine,” you chuckled nervously. Theo placed a hand on your back and began to rub comforting circles around the center of your spine.
His touch against you was almost too much to bear.
You shied away from him and, forcing a smile, you got to your feet and quickly excused yourself. You knew if you looked back, all of them would still be staring at you but you needed to get away. Theo’s hand on your back was nearly enough to make you come undone.
These altered feelings of him had your mind running haywire.
You scurried off down the halls, twisting and turning, and avoiding any and everyone. The Slytherin dungeons weren’t that far from the Great Hall, but every step you took made the hallway feel as if it was elongating. It felt as though you would never reach it and as if you’d be walking for the rest of eternity, when you came upon the secret entrance.
You mumbled the password then slipped through the doorway.
Other than a few scattered students, there was practically no one in the common room. Hopefully you’d be able to get a bit of privacy upstairs in your bedroom.
Thoughts of Theo swirled around your head, threatening to fall in on you and drown you in your own desire. You had no idea why he was having such an effect on you.
Once you came upon the door to your dorm, you pushed through the door, slammed it quickly behind you, and collapsed onto your bed. A quick survey of the room told you that it was empty, except for your panting body.
You set yourself against your pillows, drawing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. If you kept having such an issue, you were just going to have to avoid your friends for the next few days.
You refused to let any silly thoughts get in the way of your friendship with Theo. You’d had plenty of intrusive thoughts pertaining to him in the past. That didn’t mean you were in love with him or had any feelings for him other than platonic. People had weird thoughts about their friends all of the time—it didn’t make them true.
A knock on the door drove its way through your train of thought. A small jolt ran through your body at the sudden sound.
Assuming it was just one of your roommates, you invited them in. But one of your roommates did not walk through the door. Theo did.
Upon seeing him, you shot up to a sitting position almost immediately.
“Theo—I didn’t know it was you, I’d really like to be alone right now if—”
“That’s fine. I’ll leave as soon as you tell me what’s wrong.”
His eyes were stern with his jaw clenched tightly, the muscle running across the bone rippling with every grind of his teeth. If you didn’t know this boy like the back of your hand, you might’ve mistook his concern for fury.
“Nothing’s wrong. Like I said, I’m just tired.”
“There’s something else,” he spoke. “I can tell. I’ve known you for nearly as long as I’ve been alive. Do you seriously think I can’t tell when something’s bothering you? You brushed away my hand, you—you barely looked at me earlier. You’ve never, ever turned me away like that—and if you decide you’re done with me, w-with us—that’s fine, but I deserve an explanation.” He stepped forward and left nothing but a few inches between the two of you. “I demand one.”
His ramble ended with deep, heaving breaths, his eyes staring down at you with longing and panic, and your saliva nearly getting caught in your throat. If you hadn’t closed your mouth that had been gaping open, you might’ve choked.
He stood so closely, you could feel his breaths on your chest. You attempted to avoid his eyes but it was as if he’d locked you to him. You couldn’t pull away.
“Theo, I’m not…done with you,” you exhaled shakily, “I always want you.”
His eyes softened a bit.
“Er, to be here with me as my friend!” you gasped out quickly, trying to ease the landing of the borderline confession you’d just spouted out.
His mouth dropped a bit as he seemed almost disappointed. Surely he didn’t feel the same way.
“What if I want to be here with you…but as more than just a friend,” he whispered. His deep voice rumbled beneath the pressure of his chapped lips. You couldn’t help but glance down at them briefly.
Once you had, his breath hitched in his throat just a bit, and you knew he’d seen you. You knew he’d seen your eyes dart from his deep, crystalline eyes to his barely parted lips. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, just enough to grant them some hydration from how deeply the two of you had been breathing. A shudder passed through you at the sight.
“What’s…more than a friend?” you breathed, your voice wavering as you found it increasingly harder to pull your eyes away from his lips.
What a stupid thing to ask.
“I want to show you what it is,” he said. “I want you to feel what more than a friend is.”
You almost jumped out of your skin when the tips of his fingers brushed against your forearm. He seemed to be testing the waters and, though your reaction wasn’t exactly calm, must have decided that it was okay to move forward again. The fingers from the opposite hand brushed alongside your other arm.
“Let me show you what it feels like,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to lose anything we have because of one stupid mistake—because we couldn’t control ourselves,” you said, biting your lip nervously. You knew it was a cruel thing to say but it was the truth. Theo was the best thing that had ever happened to you, even before you couldn’t escape the feeling of his eyes on you.
“I won’t let anything change us,” he said. “Let me give you all of me before you decide you need some of me.”
Shakily, you pressed your lips together and nodded slowly. You were all his.
He smiled just a bit, a shaking breath pushing through his lips as if he’d been holding it for a while.
His hands were slow and patient, carefully mapping out every place he intended to touch and ensuring that it was completely okay with you before doing so.
Fingers traced over your hips and across your ribs through your uniform shirt. Even through the material, you felt his simulated touch eliciting chills across your stomach and arms. He smirked a bit at the way the small hairs there stood up.
“Can I touch your skin?” he asked, his eyes finding yours. You nodded in response.
At your immediate consent, he took no time in easing the hem of your shirt out from beneath your skirt. The tucked-in material had created indentations along your flesh from pressing into it all day. His fingers traced along the swirls of marks across your hips.
His hot skin on yours was nearly too much to handle—you swore you felt your knees buckle.
After the initial shyness of skin-on-skin, you could feel Theo’s hands splay wide on either side of your hips and move across your abdomen and all the way to the back. His fingers brushed across the strap of your bra just as a raging heat split your stomach in two.
“Can I?” he asked. Of course, you nodded.
With a second set of permissions, he felt even bolder. He sucked in a strong breath and, with quick and intense movements, brought his hands out from beneath your shirt and began to unfasten the buttons.
With each button he pulled open, he placed a hot kiss to the skin revealed. Your breaths came in deep heaves, your chest lurching towards him pathetically.
His tongue brushed over the cleavage split evenly by the pressure of your bra. With your chest nearly completely revealed to him, Theo’s eyes darkened severely.
His eyes found yours again. The two of you regained consciousness for only a moment to realize where you were and what you were doing, before you clasped your hands around his head and pulled his mouth to yours.
With a fiery desire, he slipped his hands beneath your thighs and, with subtle clumsiness, lifted you off the floor just enough to push you up against the stone wall in the corner.
A shy moan slipped from between your lips at the feeling of your body trapped in between him and the wall.
His lips devoured yours like a man starved. He drank up every drop of saliva granted by each slide of your tongue along his, never wasting a single bit. His hands gripped at you mercilessly—at your hips, your chest, your ass. It wasn’t long before your shirt was completely unbuttoned and slid messily down your shoulders and your shoes slipped off and kicked somewhere into the corner.
As the two of you took a moment to breath, noses pressed to each other and breaths intermingling, Theo contemplated his next moves.
“I want to take care of you,” he heaved, a bead of sweat sliding down his sharply detailed throat.
“Please… have me as you will,” you whined, hardly able to stand being away from him in these few seconds.
The sounds of your begging did nothing but urge him forward, cutting through every strap of restraint he may have still had. He fucking loved it.
“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered.
He slid his finger down across your neck, tightening his grip just barely around your throat, then sliding them down across your breasts. He kneaded the sore tissue there, reveling in the way your lips parted at the feeling.
His fingers slid over the metal clasp that sat squarely between your breasts, shining in the firelight, waiting for him to separate it.
Before touching your chest any further, he wrapped his hands around your thighs once more and wrapped them around his waist, balancing you against the wall behind you.
His fingers then returned to their post at your bra and effortlessly split the clasp. The pressure of your breasts popped the fabric apart, quickly revealing your chest to the boy before you.
He moaned at the sight of your gorgeous chest and could not resist from placing his lips around each nipple, swirling his tongue around them perfectly. Your head fell back against the wall, your hands clutching at this hair, your legs wrapped around his body.
“You’re so perfect—gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbled.
His hands and lips reluctantly separated from your chest and pulled you away from the wall for just a moment. He walked you over to the recession in the wall where the windowsill waited for your body weight.
The drapes were pulled together but you imagined that you wouldn’t be so angry if they weren’t.
Theo set you down against the cool stone and slid your hips against him.
With no regard for what you were going to do for your next day of classes, he roughly split your tights to reveal the bottoms beneath.
He let out a moan at the sight of you—you were better than he’d ever imagined.
Flipping your skirt up, he traced a single, trained finger over the slit of fabric covering the most sensitive part of your body. You let out a wavering moan at the sensation, gripping onto his shoulders tightly.
“Please, Theo, no more teasing,” you groaned, sliding your hips closer to his. The motion pressed your core against his, creating a type of friction that was more than delicious. The both of you paused and shuddered against each other’s mouth.
If Theo had any restraint left in his body, it was this that destroyed it.
He slid a finger beneath the material of your bottoms and slid them to the side, revealing you to the cool air. You shuddered a bit at the feeling, not prepared for the sudden change in temperature.
He traced his fingers along your folds again, collecting slicks of moisture along them. You could barely keep up with his pace, not sure whether to moan or cry or beg for more.
Once soaked enough, he slid a finger into you, allowing you to stretch around it. You cried out to the night air, clutching at his shirt like you might slip away from this world if he kept easing you open just as he was.
There were blinks of time where he’d slip another finger in just beside the other, stretching you farther than you’d ever been before, but you could hardly grasp where you were in time and space. All you could feel, think, smell, hear, taste was Theodore Nott.
When years had passed and he’d built you up to your climax twice already, he decided that he was ready to give you all of him.
The layer of sweat across your body and cloud of exhaustion that plagued your mind seemed to be no obstacle for a still very wired Theo. He was ready to fuck himself into you until you were begging for mercy. He’d been waiting for this for years.
“Turn over for me, sweetheart,” he said lovingly, a stark contrast to the brutality with which he’d worked you apart.
Slow-moving from exhaustion but still eager for more of his touch, you forced yourself onto your stomach. Your hands gripped onto the drapes for some sense of purchase—hopefully they wouldn’t collapse down around the two of you, revealing both of your bodies to the world.
When the rustling of his clothing and the clinking of his belt hit your ears, the entire lower half of your body twinged in anticipation. You gasped lowly as his hands slipped beneath your skirt, slowly smoothing his fingers over the fabric of your bottoms before gripping them and sliding them down your legs.
He allowed you to step out of them before he pushed you back up against the stone and slid himself across your entrance. You sucked in a breath sharply at the sensation, your fingers digging into the canvas drapes so tightly they burned white around the knuckles.
One hand gripped your bare hips while the other slowly guided himself into you all the way to the hilt. The slow stretch he had provided you before was nothing compared to the fire burning below now. Your eyes clenched shut, bursts of tears slipping down your cheeks.
“Breathe, bella,” he groaned softly as he allowed you to adjust while refraining from going as fast and as hard as he could.
It took only a moment before you asked him to move, and begged him to claim you fully. And then he was controlling every inch of what you received, ruthlessly, yet lovingly.
The silence of the room was filled with his breathless groans, your stuttering words, and the force of his hips hitting yours. You’d hardly be able to stand if it weren’t for his strong hands holding your hips up, keeping you just where he wanted you for each force of his hips.
With each passing second, you found your grip on the fabric above you becoming weaker and your ability to hold yourself up diminishing. With the pace he’d set, you’d be finishing any minute and he knew it.
And by the way his speed stuttered every so often and his hands gripped onto the fabric of your skirt, you figured he couldn’t be far behind you.
Your naked breasts lightly scraped against the stone with every push from behind, rubbing the sensitive skin just enough to push you over your edge and crash within yourself. You cried out from the force of the pleasure that hit you.
As soon as you had managed to finish against him, the tightening of your muscles tipped him over the cliff side he stood atop, forcing him to the waves below.
He worked himself through his climax before slowing to a stop and collapsing against you. The sweat on your skin mingled together, creating a hot seal between your bodies. You could hardly catch your breath between the windowsill pressed against you and the strong man behind you.
“Theo,” you whined. “Get off…”
He responded with a huff and a moment’s silence, before pushing off of you. Your skin separated with a sticky pull.
He gently pulled you away from the window, slid your messed skirt down and helped you slide into your bed. He slid in next to you for just a moment.
“I think I’m about to pass out and sleep for the next 48 hours,” you chuckled lazily.
“Would you say I gave enough of myself?” he smirked, brushing a strand away from your forehead.
“I’d say it was more than enough,” you said, rolling your eyes at his confidence.
“Well, I’m yours anytime you want me.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, before getting to his feet and beginning to redress.
“No,” you fussed. “Why are you leaving?”
“Because it’s the middle of the day and I’m missing my classes,” he laughed, tightening his belt back to its proper place.
“I am too—just skip with me today,” you begged.
“No, darling, I’ve got to get back to class. I’ve got too many assignments due today. I’ll let them know you won’t be making it in today, though.”
“What are you going to tell them if they ask?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Mm, I’ll let them know that you had a rough morning and you’re gonna sleep it off.”
He smirked meanly before slipping through the dorm door and leaving you in silence, bundled up in your bed and nearly too tired to even try and get ready for classes.
One day off wouldn’t be too big of a deal.
- - -
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rafesbabygirlx · 2 months ago
Text
A Lot of Time has Passed |Part 1
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Series Masterlist | Masterlist
Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader
Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.
A/N: Writing this with inspiration from season 4 part 1. Rewriting plot lines. No mention of Y/N but is written in her perspective. Was inspired of Rafe’s new character arc which I love but thought I’d make it a bit more interesting and messy.
Also- you have to imagine that Maybank reader is intertwined in the previous seasons. And was involved with Rafe. She understands him more than Sofia. She is JJs half sister, takes after her mom, brunette brown eyes tanned skin.
Not really proofread
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: smut (fingering) tough discussions, loss of life (Ward, Big John) Rafe can get a little mean, sorry Sofia lovers.
It’s been 18 months since you returned to the island. While you’ve stayed in touch with your half-brother JJ and the rest of the Pogues, you only saw them once in a while since you had made them travel to the mainland. You relished the escape from the chaos of the Outer Banks. Although you maintained a connection with your mother, it wasn’t until you decided to move in with her that you saw her again. You never imagined you’d come back, but hearing about the Pogues’ long-overdue success and newfound wealth drew you back to celebrate.
Once you arrived, you made an effort to keep a low profile. You headed straight to the old house you and JJ used to share. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed at how much he paid for it, but the joy of being back with your little brother overshadowed that irritation. Everything felt just as it had in the past, and you slipped seamlessly into your role as their ‘older sister.’
You found yourself speaking with Sarah down by the docks, where she asked how you were doing and how things were going—just the usual small talk. Then came the question you dreaded: “Have you seen him?” You stared out at the water, trying to push thoughts of him aside while enjoying your time with the Pogues. Subconsciously, you gripped your gold necklace by its 2 charms, one a ‘V’ initial and the other a baby rattle as you replied, “No, I haven’t, and I’m hoping to keep it that way.”
You hadn’t planned to stay long, just a week or two at most, with hopes of hanging out in the Cut, grabbing some groceries, and indulging in shopping at boutiques you never go to do before. You wanted to avoid anything that might draw attention to you. Living with your mom—who was now clean and remarried—had been a breath of fresh air. She shielded you from worry, allowing you to focus on taking care of what you needed to and building a decent savings while working a stable job, free from the burdens your father had imposed.
After chatting a bit more, you hugged Sarah and rejoined the group. They were deep in conversation about a bike race happening the next day. Glancing at JJ's bike in the yard, you felt a mix of confusion and admiration for his confidence. Although you hadn’t planned to join them for obvious reasons, he managed to convince you to come along. With such a big crowd, you thought you could easily blend in and suppress the anxious flutter in your chest at the thought of running into Rafe. Confident, yet now he’s all you can think about.
————————————
The last time you saw him was when you returned home from South America. While you were glad to see him, you dreaded the conversation about his father. After leaving the group at the airport, you headed to Tannyhill. As you entered, he greeted you with a warm hug, lifting you off your feet and showering you with kisses. He set you down, his face bright with a smile, contrasting sharply with the sadness that clouded your own.
Before you set out for South America to help John B with his dad, Rafe had stopped you just before boarding the plane. He promised he’d be a better person for you and wanted you to return from the trip to him. With that, he slipped one of his silver rings onto your finger and kissed you, giving a nod that it was okay to go.
There was always a powerful connection between you two, despite the class divide and his intense disdain for Pogues. You were the exception. Everyone adored you—both Pogues and Kooks alike—especially when you worked as the favorite bartender at the Country Club. You and Rafe bonded over the absence of your mothers and the shortcomings of your fathers. It was a match made in an unlikely paradise.
Though you were never officially together, largely due to his ego, you often went out publicly. Despite JJ and the group’s disdain, you convinced them—and yourself—that it meant nothing, even though deep down, you knew it did. The same could be said for Rafe with Topper and Kelce. No matter what happened, you both struggled to fully pull away from each other. Until that night.
You led Rate to the living room of Tannyhill and gently broke the news of his father's death. The color drained from his face, and his breathing grew rapid and heavy. In an attempt to console him, you placed your hand, adorned with his ring, on his arm, but he abruptly yanked it away and stood up, clearly overwhelmed. Before you could fully explain the circumstances surrounding the tragedy, Rafe erupted in anger. "This is what happens when people get close to someone like John B! Pogues are nothing but worthless pieces of shit, I trusted you all with him!" He lashed out, placing the blame on them as if Ward's insatiable greed hadn't played a role in his decisions. It was bewildering that he believed any of us wanted his father there in the first place. This wasn't any of ours fault.
"Rafe..." you pleaded, desperation lacing your voice. "I don't want to hear it! I can't even look at you right now. All those things I said to you, and you let this happen?! You got my father killed?!" His voice thundered with rage, his eyes dark and wild, veins bulging in his neck.
"You really think we wanted this? John B lost his dad too, you know that?! This was NEVER supposed to happen. I'm so sorry." But Rafe didn't want to hear your apology. "Get away from me! Don't come back! I never want to see you again," he shouted, the finality of his words slicing through you. You felt the tears streaming down your face, sorrow intertwined with disbelief. How could he say this after all the loving promises he had made before leaving? You sat in stunned silence for a moment, then carefully slid the ring off your finger and placed it on the coffee table. With a heavy heart, you turned and walked out of Tannyhill. Rafe didn't even glance back; he couldn't. Deep down, he knew he didn't mean any of it, but his anger always got the best of him.
————————————
As you emerged from your thoughts, everyone decided to head inside for the night, giving JJ some much-needed rest before the race the next day. You settled into your old bed, replacing the dust-covered sheets, and despite the whirlwind of emotions flooding your mind about being back, sleep quickly overtook you. Before long, JJ was shaking you awake, urging you to hurry and get ready.
When you arrived at the racecourse, you kept your distance from the group, sticking close to Cleo to avoid any potential confrontations.
JJ understood what was going on without needing to ask, and he respected your space; having you there, after all this time, was what mattered most to him. It was a relief, allowing you to watch from afar as Rafe interacted with Topper, their tension palpable from a distance.
As the race began, excitement surged through you. Ju took the lead, but then Rafe unexpectedly tapped him, sending both of them flipping over their bikes, igniting a chorus of cheers from the crowd.
Once the race concluded, you made your way towards the group. Topper walked by, not being able to help gloat saying something to Sarah. He then caught your eye, a smug smile on his face, but he chose not to say anything, merely walking away while shaking his head. You refused to let it bother you; Topper's opinions meant nothing, yet you knew that this would undoubtedly reach Rafe, and you hoped to slip away before that happened-at least, that was what you hoped.
As the crowd began to thin out, you felt exposed among the remaining Pogues and Kooks. Seeking a bit of refuge, you decided to head towards the shack that stored drinks and equipment for the track, needing a breather from the charged atmosphere. Just as you turned to leave, your eyes locked with Rafe's.
Your heart raced as a heavy silence enveloped you, and for a moment, neither of you could look away. In that instant, you noticed Sofia slip her arm through his and plant a kiss on his cheek. Another dark haired, brown eyes Pogue you knew from the cut and worked with the country club. He clearly had a type. She playfully pulled his attention back to her. Seizing the chance, you quickly resumed your path to the shack, desperate to put distance between yourself and the turmoil of emotions that Rafe always seemed to ignite within you.
You stepped into the shack, the sunlight streaming through the windows casting long shadows across the floor. Your heart raced with nervousness, and you weren't sure if you wanted to stay or leave. With your back to the door, you pressed one hand to your chest and the other to your forehead, trying to steady your breathing, when a low voice broke the silence.
"Hi."
You spun around to find Rafe's imposing silhouette framed in the doorway, his tall figure looming over you. "Rafe, please, just go. I don't need this. I'm here for my brother," you insisted, your voice unsteady. He chuckled, stepping further into the room, the warmth of his presence engulfing you.
"I've missed you, Maybank."
"Don't say that to me," you retorted, backing away as he moved closer. Soon, you found yourself pinned between him and the table, his blue eyes piercing through the dim light, sparkling with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. He studied you with an expression that was both longing and mischief, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before gently cupping your face.
It left you bewildered, and you instinctively tried to push him away. "A year and a half ago, you couldn't stand me, and now you're all over me. You can never make up your mind."
A smile crept across Rafe's face. "I could never hate you. I never hated you. I was angry, sure, but I took it out on you-and you never gave me a chance to apologize. You vanished, changed your number, and everyone who knew where you were would never tell me."
"Rafe, please just go," you pleaded, feeling trapped. But before you could protest further, he lifted you effortlessly and set you down on the table.
"I can't stay away from you. Please, let us have this moment," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. He leaned in, inhaling your familiar scent-the coconut and mango shampoo mixed with a hint of jasmine perfume. Then, without warning, he pressed soft kisses against your cheek. You let out a slight moan, unable to suppress the spark of electricity that coursed through you at his touch.
He smiled against your skin, his face inching closer to yours. Then, before you could register the moment, he pulled back slightly to gaze into your eyes once more before crashing his lips against yours. The shock of the kiss momentarily stunned you, but as the reality of what was happening sank in, you found yourself responding, moving your lips against his as if you had been waiting for this moment all along.
His hands began to explore your soft skin, gliding down your arms to intertwine his fingers with yours. You felt the familiar weight of the ring that once adorned your finger. He released your hand, gripping the nape of your neck and pulling you closer as his right hand traced down your torso. You wore a thin, cropped strapless top and a mini skirt. His fingertips teased the upper hem, grazing the tops of your breasts while he moved lower, grasping your waist as if afraid to let you go.
Both of you fought for breath, pulling away to look at each other, laughter escaping your lips. “I’ve been waiting to do this again for so long,” he admitted.
“Do you think your girlfriend would appreciate you saying that to me, Rafe?”
“What?”
“Sofia, the girl outside who kissed you on the cheek?” You sarcastically remind him. “Do you think she’d appreciate this? I may be many things, but I won’t be an accomplice to cheating.”
He sighed, “That means nothing to me. If anything, she’s just a distraction while you were gone. It’s always been you I’m meant to be with. I ruined it and forced myself to move on. And now you’re back.”
You bit your finger, feeling conflicted. “But—” Before you could interrogate him more, he captured your lips in another kiss, drowning out your thoughts. His hands ventured lower, teasing the hem of your skirt. Looking into your eyes for confirmation, you nodded, giving him permission to explore further. He slipped his fingers beneath your clothing, pressing against your core, and groaned as he felt your wetness.
He swirled his fingers before moving to your clit, rubbing in deep, rhythmic motions. You broke the kiss to moan, your head thrown back, exposing your neck and chest. He kissed a trail from behind your ear to the tops of your breasts, and then, with a practiced ease, slid a finger inside you.
You gasped, leaning into the crook of his neck. “That’s a good girl. You can take a little more, right?”
You whimper a soft yes, and he added a second finger, igniting a fevered kiss filled with passion and frustration. Despite your anger, desire overwhelmed you. He pumped in and out quickly, his thumb working your clit, sending you into a frenzy. Your breaths quickened, and you were amazed that no one could hear your moans.
“That’s right, baby. Let me make you feel good. Let me make it up to you. Come for me.”
As waves of pleasure washed over you, your head spun, heart racing. With a gasp, you reached your peak, surrendering completely as he rode out your orgasm, his unoccupied hand brushing your cheek. After a few lingering pumps, he withdrew, licking his fingers clean before adjusting your panties and gazing into your eyes.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said softly. You struggled to find your voice, lost in the moment until the door slammed open, revealing JJ. Rage simmered within you at the thought of a confrontation between him and your brother, but Rafe turned to you. “We’ll talk more another time, baby.”
You smiled and nodded, but as he walked out, JJ turned to you with a look of disgust. “What the hell did he want?”
“Nothing. We were trying to talk before you interrupted,” you replied. “I didn’t know he saw me come in.”
“Are you going to talk to him about her?”
“I don’t know, J.”
---
I hope you like it. My first of many stories. I decided to break it into parts. Stretch it out over the month before part 2 of the season drops.
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wileys-russo · 26 days ago
Note
Hi , requesting a prompt
With Alexia at her home " have you been always this cuddly ? "
Thank you
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wine drunk II a.putellas
you'd let yourself in with your key and gotten comfortable, curled up on your girlfriends sofa with a bowl of popcorn and a drink, tv remote in hand and dressed entirely in alexia's clothes.
you knew she had late meetings and wouldn't be home for awhile but you'd already organised to stay the night since the two of you had spent the last few days apart, with you being in girona visiting family and alexia remaining in barcelona.
the pair of you had only been seeing one another officially for little over four months, drawn together through a mutual friend and introduced at a dinner you were both a little awkward and made up the less outgoing and boisterous end of the table.
none the less you'd gotten talking, obviously knowing who alexia was because you didn't live under a rock and you'd been going to patri's games for a long while now.
but you'd only moved to barcelona this year, much to patri's delight as she quickly drew you into her inner circle determined to keep you here and make you feel as welcomed as possible.
you'd made it through three episodes of a new show you'd been recommended by a coworker when you heard her key in the lock, frowning as a thump and several choice curses sounded on the other side of the door.
you hopped up to your feet and hurried over, flicking the deadbolt and pulling the door open. "mi amor!" alexia lit up at the sight of you, a laugh of surprise leaving your mouth as she charged inside and swept you up into a bear hug.
"hola cari!" you laughed again, arms wrapping around her neck as she twirled and kicked the door closed behind her, placing you carefully back down again.
"woah woah alexia que eres-" you started, grabbing her shoulders as no sooner did your feet touch the floor you were marched backward, squealing as your ass hit the arm of the couch and you fell backward.
"Te eché de menos." your girlfriend promptly crawled on top of you as you barely had time to shuffle back a little more before she hauled herself up and over the arm of the couch, legs dangling off as her head made its home on your chest.
"i missed you too." you chuckled, running hands through her hair and tilting her head back to kiss her forehead. "amor, estás bien?" you asked with a small smile of amusement as she squeezed you tightly, her body settled on top of you quite pleasant like a weighted blanket.
"sí, muy muy muy bien." your girlfriend assured, patting your sides gently and squeezing you again as you gave her an odd look. "have you always been this cuddly? or did an alien replace you while i was gone?" you teased still massaging her scalp and hearing her scoff, head popping up to glare down at you.
you heard her began to chastise you in spanish but now up close you watched her mannerisms and the slight slur to her voice and it all clicked. "dios mío, amor are you drunk?" you laughed, managing to sit up a little more as alexia scoffed again.
"no!" the footballer argued but as she sat back on her knees and swayed slightly you grinned. "you are, you're drunk!" you laughed in shock, alexia blowing a raspberry at you with her tongue and waving you off, only putting another nail in the coffin.
"when you said it was a business dinner i did not realise that meant drinking." you grinned, alexia grumbling something inaudible, pinching your knee and moving off of you and to her feet.
"i am not drunk. ni hablar! i have one, maybe two glass of wine." the midfielder scoffed, but you only grinned more as she stumbled ever so slightly, trying to play it off as if she'd tripped over the carpet, poking at some imaginary hazard with her toe.
"you are a light weight putellas, all it takes for you to be drunk is a glass or two of wine!" you reminded with a snicker, standing and following after her into the kitchen, pulling yourself to sit up on the counter.
"ah!" she clicked her tongue at you, wiggling her fingers for you to hop down as you rolled your eyes and made a face at her.
normally she'd come and pull you down herself to make a point, muttering about her clean counters but she seemed to have more pressing matters to follow up as her head disappeared into the pantry.
"alexia." you gasped as she turned around, packet of chips in hand, another tell tale sign. "cállate." the footballer waved you off, hand digging around in the back as you smirked and shook your head.
"drunk snacking." you tutted at her, grinning as she playfully slapped your knee before knocking your legs apart and moving to stand between them, arms winding around you and her head again resting against your chest.
"so the meetings were good then bebé?" you chuckled, her chin resting on your sternum as she hummed with a small nod, eyes a little droopy.
she asked a few questions about your trip home, the pair of you having been in near constant communication while you were with your family, but not long after you fell into a comfortable silence, your hand cradling the back of her head as she leaned more into you.
"ale!" you groaned in disgust as something brushed your ear, your girlfriend trying to pass a handful of her chips over your shoulder and into her mouth, packet held in hand behind your back.
"i just washed my hair." you whined, kicking her lightly as she hummed, pressing a salty kiss to your cheek making you grimace as she tied the bag up using a hair tie on her wrist and put them back.
"tan mimoso cuando estás borracho." you teased as again she returned between your legs, hands on your hips and pulling you a little closer, indeed always extra cuddly when she'd had a drink, quite the affectionate drunk.
"vale mi vida, shower and we can cuddle in bed." you reminded, shaking her gently with a small smile of amusement as her eyes fluttered open and she hummed.
though the moment she let go of you with a sigh and stepped backward your hand slapped over your mouth as she tripped over her own feet careered over backward.
"oye, bebita?" "sí tonta?" "i might be drunk."
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daycourtofficial · 9 months ago
Text
You’re losing me
Summary: Azriel has always put his duties as spymaster above his own needs and wants. How long can you let him keep putting work over you before boiling over?
Author’s note: I am so sorry about this babes, this is pure heartbreak. Anyway angst is a new genre for me so please lmk how this goes for you (good, bad, awful - lmk)
(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)
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You sit in the library of your shared home, the soft cushion of your favorite armchair not providing the comfort it used to. The library was your favorite room in the house - you and Azriel spent thousands of hours in here reading independently, reading to each other, or just enjoying the silence with each other for company.
The room was beautiful- you both adored the entirety of the house, but this room drew both of you in immediately. It’s beautiful stain-glass windows creating brilliant hues of color to move about the room during the day, bringing life to the dark wood that adorns the walls of the room.
Vivid colors from the scenes in the stain glass window would dance across the floor, as if reenacting the depictions just for you two.
It’s dark now, the sun having set hours ago, and you can’t remember the last time you enjoyed the light of the room. The last time you and Azriel had enjoyed the light of the room.
The last time you and Azriel just enjoyed each other’s company without knowing he was going to leave in a matter of hours.
It was a song and dance you were familiar with by now - he’d return home from doing some work requested by Rhys, you’d make him some food, you two would snuggle or have sex, and he’d be gone by the time you woke up.
It wasn’t always like this, but the two years since the war have caused Azriel to dive headfirst into his work, accepting every scrap of work Rhysand would push his way, darting out the door like it was calling to him.
You hear the front door open, knowing who it is despite their silent entrance. Sighing, you stand up and walk out of the library, closing the door behind you.
You walked through the halls of your home, feet softly padding on the hardwood floor until you see him across the living room, still in his leathers.
It used to amuse you, when he’d return in his leathers, compared to you in your frilly nightgowns. It was quite a sight, the dark leather surrounded by the satins and cottons of your nightgowns.
Now it just furthered to prove the divide between you.
“Az, we were supposed to go to the bakery today to taste cakes.”
You hardly let him walk through the door before picking a fight, but his absence at the bakery hours ago left you ample time to stew in your negative emotions.
He runs his hand down his face, the purple and blue bruising under his eyes having grown more and more prominent over the weeks. Truthfully, you don’t want to start a fight, but you’ve let too many of these things slide in the past two years and you’re at your tipping point.
Missed dates, rescheduled dinners, missed anniversaries, cancelled trips. You had tried talking several times about it, but you need your fiancé around more than he has been. No amount of begging can make him do anything about it, though.
The most egregious of all was the continually delayed status of your wedding ceremony. You’ve had to rescind the invitations two times now, and you’re have tempted to send out fresh ones that just say “date: TBD”.
He just sighs in response, telling you, “I had to work, I had a mission.”
You sigh, knowing it was the truth. Your fiancé would never cheat on you, but he would put everyone else’s needs above his.
And above your own.
“Azriel, I really needed you today. It was important to me for you to be there.”
“It’s just a cake - pick any flavor you want. You know what I like,” he says, sitting onto the couch and taking off his boots.
“It’s not just a cake! This is your wedding too - I cannot make every decision for this. It’s supposed to be about us, not about me.”
You shake your head, exasperation bubbling to the surface, “I feel insane going to these appointments because I have a fiancé who never shows up! I swear I heard the florist say she pitied me because I pretended to be engaged!”
Azriel drags a hand down his face, “can we not do this now? I’m exhausted and want to bathe before bed.”
You huff out a laugh, as Azriel tries to move past you but you continue to follow him. “When would be a better time? You’re hardly home lately, and you leave at a moment’s notice for Rhysand.”
He whips his head at you, “it’s my job, my duty.”
You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure you could delegate a decent proportion of your work to the people under you that you both hand selected and trained yourself!
He sighs, exasperated, “it’s my job.”
A line you’ve heard a thousand times. You knew who he was when you began dating him, you’ve always known who he was and what he did.
But you thought his need to feel worthy would wane with time, not get worse.
“You put Rhys’s needs over mine!” You’re shouting now, something you never do, and Azriel bites back, “he’s my high lord - and yours.”
“That doesn’t mean he gets to keep you at his beck and call!” Your hands were running through your hair, unable to have the same argument again and again.
“That’s exactly what it means.”
“Oh so was it Rhys’s beck and call to push our wedding back three separate times?”
He whirls around at you, pointing, “That’s not fair and you know it.”
“Three times is not fair! It’s like you don’t even want it!”
His silence to your accusation rings through your ears. A damning, deafening silence.
You count to ten in your head, and he hasn’t made a sound, only looking at the ground.
His lack of words echo through your mind, even as his hands reach out to you, his desperate pleadings of “I-” and “baby” falling on deaf ears.
“I’m glad to see where we stand.”
You begin to turn, but stop yourself.
“When I told Nesta our wedding was delayed again, she told me if you really wanted it, really wanted me, you’d suggest we just run off and get married like Rhys and Feyre did.”
You take a shaky breath, “but you never did.”
You step back from him, unable to look him in the eye, unable to do much of anything, except retreat from your shared bedroom, softly shutting the door behind you.
Azriel stands in the now empty room, your footsteps ceasing down the hall but continuing in his mind. Every second he stands there, the further you become. He starts to move, starts to pick up his feet, his shadows urging him to go, go, go.
You can fix this, they tell him. Go, now.
His thoughts are broken up by Rhys’s voice, a smooth sound at such odds with the chaotic edges of his thoughts.
Az, I need you.
Azriel doesn’t even ask if it can wait. You’ll understand. He’s sure of it. He can fix things when he comes home. Rhys just needs him right now, he can help him out, then he can talk to you.
He scrawls a quick note on the table for you to find before retreating into his shadows.
He returns home a few hours later, his assistance speeding up Rhys’s needs. He stops to grab you your favorite flowers, a book you’ve been eyeing, and a necklace he’s had his eye on in the shop for ages.
The necklace gives him pause, as he realizes he first saw it eight months ago, its shine reminding him of your eyes.
Had it really been eight months?
He kept telling himself he was going to buy you the necklace for a special occasion, but so many have slipped by without his acknowledgment this past year.
Gods, he thinks, did he even celebrate your birthday?
Surely he hadn’t gotten that caught up in his work.
Had he?
The streets are quiet as he makes his way back to your shared home. He thinks over the past year and how he hardly saw you, and when he did, he often left not soon after seeing you.
He opens the door, the house eerily silent following your fight earlier. He deserved your silence. He couldn’t tell you how scared he was to marry you, tethering your soul to his for the rest of your lives.
You, who was so kind and so loving, shackled to him for eternity. He knew the insecurities were ridiculous, that you loved him with every part of yourself.
But that didn’t stop the self-hatred from oozing out of him every moment.
He hadn’t been there for you this past year. He had let his own need for approval overshadow your needs.
He groans, needing to find you so he can fix things. He walks through the house, not even realizing the book he’s carrying is a duplicate to the one sitting on the coffee table.
He starts really thinking, trying to remember the last time he had touched you, kissed you, held you.
Too long, he realizes, as he’s made his way through the whole house without a sign of you. A shadow wraps around his wrist, pulling him into the kitchen. He finds the note he had left earlier still on the table, but you had scrawled a second message underneath. Five words that break his resolve, forcing him to his knees. Your handwriting so clear, save for the splotched ink, wet from tears.
I wouldn’t marry me either.
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Part two
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januaryembrs · 6 months ago
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Any fluffy sweet Drabble about the moon boys 🫡
SWEET MORNINGS | Marc Spector x reader
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description: the boys wake up to their girlfriend making breakfast, too bad she has no clue which boy is fronting that morning
length: 1.1k
warnings: representation of DID, Marc's slight self loathing (it's Marc idk what to say). Writer has never experienced DID so I am going off the show
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He woke up peacefully, which had once been a fleeting dream in itself for a man like him. He’d spent years jumping at the smallest sounds, flinching at voices and footsteps, ready to be up and out of bed within a moment’s notice. Yet, when his eyes slowly blinked out of the reverie of sleep, he heard her humming along to the radio, already half way through the song, heard her socks sliding against the kitchen floor as she whirled around the stove, and the smell of pancakes and coffee hit him with full force. 
His lips drew into a smile before he even knew it, and he was drawing the covers back, her side of the bed not entirely freezing which told him she’d been up about twenty minutes. Marc grabbed his shirt off the floor, the same one Steven used to sprinkle with sand when he had no idea about their coexistence, only two years later, it was scrubbed clean, even with a pretty, knit rug you’d bought from your apartment when you moved in. 
Tugging it over his head, he padded into the living room, where he could already see your form where you danced around the kitchen, entirely unaware of his approach. He’d been trying to teach you self defence, said you needed to learn to have a sixth sense when it came to people on your tail, because he had a tendency to worry about you more than Steven and Jake did. But maybe it was the fact he had naturally light footsteps, or maybe it was the fact you knew in the comfort of your home he would always be there to protect you, either way your guard was entirely down by the time he swooped behind you, grabbing you in a warm, soft hug, pressing kisses down the side of your bare neck and onto your shoulder. 
“Morning,” His voice was muddied with sleep, and he cleared his throat, hoping to take some of the husk out of it despite the fact you whirled around to look at him with something that told him just what you thought of his rumbling voice. 
“Morning, honey,” You said, pressing a small kiss to his lips, your hand still on the frying pan that he now realised had been filled with mini-chocolate pancakes, the batter sizzling and cracking in the oil, “You hungry?” 
Marc wasn’t really listening as he gave a ‘mhm’, too busy burying his nose in the crook of your neck and jaw, kissing lazily there as he tightened his grip on your waist. 
His gaze fell on the counter after a moment, the blueberry porridge Steven went crazy for already dished up in the little purple bowl you’d painted for him for their birthday, whirled of steam coming off the breakfast that was slowly turning a cornflour colour with the chopped fruit swirling in the centre. 
“Sorry, baby, I think Steven’s still sleeping, I can try ask him-” He started as you used a spatula to quickly flip the pancakes, their underside a golden brown that made his mouth water.
“Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t sure who was joining me for breakfast, or if all of you wanted something, so I made a bit of everything,” You said, smiling at him as you turned the gas down and spun in his arms, batting your eyes at him with an innocent smile, “Chocolate pancakes for you, blueberry oatmeal for Steven and a black coffee for Jake since I know you guys got mad last time we had bacon together,”
“What a woman,” Jake’s voice was a growl of appreciation that Marc couldn’t help but agree with, and he was quick to lean in to steal a handful of long kisses, grabbing the soft plush of your hips with feather light fingers and pulling you towards him, “Ay, Romeo, your pancakes are burning.”
You sprung away from him like you’d heard the alter yourself, your eyes wide in surprise, “Your pancakes are burning!” 
He heard Jake chuckle and a smile made it’s way onto his face as you fretted over whether the brown was where the chocolate had melted or if the mix had singed, but Marc thought he might just eat anything you gave him because you poured so much love and affection into it he couldn't help but think it tasted divine. 
“Marc, I’m sorry, I know we have the no hogging the body rule and I got to have her all last night, but please let me have just a few bites- o-or atleast ask her to save it for me, that stuff smells delicious,” Steven seemed to be wide awake and kicking at the sight of food, and Marc sighed, reaching out with one hand to swoop your hair off your neck as he kissed the very top of your spine. 
“Steven asks if we could save him the blueberry oatmeal since it’s my turn to spend time with you,” He said gently, and he feels you smile before he sees it, the way your cheeks crinkle and pull tightly. 
“Of course I can, baby, I’ll put it in the fridge,” You said, despite the fact the man was inside the body, scooping the little circular goods onto two plates for both of you. Turning to set the plates on the table, Marc grabbed two glasses out of the cabinet, opening the fridge door with a rattle as the magnets clasped pictures of the two of you to the cooler. 
“Orange or apple juice?” He asked, pulling the former out of the side drawer for himself. 
“Orange, please,” You replied politely, grabbing some cutlery out and laying it beside his plate. 
The two of you sat down finally, Marc sliding the filled glass over to your half of the dinner table and allowing himself to just watch as you picked up your knife and fork, digging into the chocolatey breakfast before it went cold. 
He never deserved any of this, the light touches and the breakfasts and the devotion and the way you put him on a pedestal. But sitting in the slow hum of the radio, the most obscure top hundreds playlist he thinks you could have chosen, he bit into his pancake, his tongue exploding with sugary yumminess, as you told him the weird dream you’d had about him becoming some kind of half horse, centaur type man and how you wondered if he would wear jeans on the front legs, the back legs, or if you would have to have custom, four legged bottoms made for him. 
The two of you laughed, because he didn’t quite understand what had gotten him so lucky as to end up with you. He could get used to all this.
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romugh · 2 months ago
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TEACHER'S PET? NO, STUDENT'S PET!- NR
ROMUGH’S KINKTOBER
october 9th — classroom sex
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DAY SIX || kinktober masterlist || 2024.
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pairing- prof!natasha romanoff x gp!student!reader
cw- 18+!!; top!reader, bottom!natasha, legal age gap (23, 29 - not specified), oral (n & r rcv), handie (r rcv), blowie (r rcv), slight exhibitionism (?), praise kink, unprotected sex, soft & rough emotional sex, classroom sex, breeding!!, creampie (i'm a slut)
wc- 9.424k :) enjoy!
a/n- wrote this within the universe of suddenly, the star i studied was you, but it isn't the official second part i have in mind! could be read as a standalone, but i'm incredibly proud of that fic, so go give it some love :D i don't really know if this keeps up with the personalities i had written in that fic though, apologies :')
synopsis- it's been a few weeks since your 'confrontation'. what has changed? what will change?
taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel ♥︎, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches - comment or dm to be added :)
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The classroom felt quieter than usual, the soft hum of the projector echoing in the background as Natasha’s voice droned on about particle physics. But even the intricate equations and complex theories weren’t enough to distract you from the tension that had settled between the two of you. It had been weeks since that night—the night when your worlds collided in a haze of heat and emotion, and despite your best efforts, neither of you had been able to forget it.
Natasha’s demeanour had been mostly collected—calm, composed, the epitome of professionalism. But there were cracks in her carefully constructed facade. You noticed it in the way her hand occasionally trembled when she picked up the chalk, the slight hesitation in her voice when her eyes accidentally found yours in the sea of students. It was subtle, but you could feel it, the way her walls were crumbling bit by bit.
Your own mind wasn’t much better. Each time you saw her standing at the front of the room, dressed in that form-fitting blazer or the sleek black dress she wore today, her glasses perched delicately on her nose, it took every ounce of self-control to stay composed. Every word she uttered, every gesture she made, sent your mind racing back to that night—the feel of her body pressed against yours, the way she had whispered your name as if it were the only word that mattered.
But now, all you could do was sit there, waiting, watching her, trying to keep the memories at bay as she continued her lecture.
As the hours drew to a close, Natasha cleared her throat, her eyes darting around the room as if to avoid yours altogether. "That's all for today," she said, her voice clipped, too formal. "We'll continue this discussion next class. Don’t forget your assignments."
The students began to pack up their things, the usual chatter filling the air, but you stayed seated, watching her carefully. Your heart beat a little faster when you saw her glance at you out of the corner of her eye, her posture stiffening ever so slightly. She was trying to ignore it, pretending everything was fine, but the tension between you was undeniable.
As the last student left the room, silence descended, and Natasha stood at the front of the room, her back to you as she gathered her things. It was now or never. You took a deep breath and stood, making your way toward her desk.
“Professor Romanoff,” you began, your voice steady yet low, the sound echoing in the empty classroom. The name felt bitter on your tongue, a reminder of the professionalism that hung heavily between you. You longed to call her something softer, something that reflected the intimacy you had shared—and wanted to share—rather than the formality that now seemed to stretch endlessly in the air around you.
Natasha froze for a moment before turning to face you. Her green eyes met yours, that mask of professionalism slipping for just a second. You could see it—the flicker of uncertainty, the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks.
"Yes?" she replied, her tone betraying the calm she tried so hard to project. Her fingers fidgeted with a stack of papers, her usual confidence wavering.
"I was hoping we could talk," you said, taking a step closer. "About… the last few weeks."
Her gaze hardened for a moment, the formality snapping back into place. "I don’t think that’s appropriate. We should keep things professional between us."
Her words were sharp, meant to create distance, but there was a tremor in her voice that betrayed her. You weren’t deterred.
“I agree,” you said, voice smooth. “But that has still been impossible, hasn’t it? Has anything changed since that night?  What are your true feelings for me, Nata– Professor? Not the ones you’re pretending to have.””
She blinked at you, her breath catching in her throat, though she tried to remain unfazed. But you saw it—the way her chest rose and fell just a little quicker, the way her gaze flickered to your lips for just a split second before she could stop herself.
The silence between you grew heavier, the air thick with the weight of unsaid words, of unacknowledged yet shared emotions. And then, without another word, you took another step forward, close enough now that the heat of her body radiated into yours.
"Natasha," you said, completely dropping the formal title, your voice a little softer, but still firm. "I’m not asking for much. Just… an honest conversation.”
She swallowed hard, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came. You could see the internal battle waging inside her—the part of her that clung desperately to control, to keep everything professional, and the part of her that couldn’t deny the connection between you, the one that had begun to blossom hours before she saw you in class that day. The tension was palpable, her defences cracking, and in that moment, you knew she was struggling just as much as you were.
Her eyes flickered with hesitation, like she was testing the weight of the silence between you, trying to find a way to speak without losing herself. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she sighed, her shoulders slumping just the tiniest bit as she let the tension leave her body.
“Fine,” she whispered, her gaze still locked on yours. “Talk.”
You waited for your words to come, expecting the flood of emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface. But instead, you stood frozen in the quiet, your lips parting and closing again, as if the truth you wanted to say was too heavy to let out. The silence pressed between you, thick and unyielding.
Her hands moved instinctively, adjusting the papers in her grasp, shuffling them just to give herself something to hold on to. You noticed how she avoided your eyes, her usual confidence in the classroom slipping, replaced by an uncertainty that hung in the air.
Without thinking, you stepped forward again, regaining control over your swirling thoughts. The tension between you felt alive, buzzing in the air that now seemed far too small for both of you. The need to reach out, to touch her, was almost unbearable, but you held back, grounding yourself in the moment. Your eyes never left the constellations of freckles on her skin, the silent pull between you growing stronger, as if even the smallest movement could shatter the fragile restraint she was trying so hard to keep.
"What’s wrong, Nat?” Your voice cut through the silence, low and wavering. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks."
Her breath hitched at the sound of her name on your lips. It was a simple thing, just the use of her usual nickname, but it shattered the fragile boundary she had been trying so hard to maintain.
“I haven’t been avoiding you,” she said, but her words felt weak. You could tell she didn’t believe them herself.
“Really?” you challenged, a faint smirk tugging at your lips as you reached out to brush a piece of chalk dust from her shoulder. The touch was innocent enough, but the way her breath caught in her throat told you all you needed to know. She was unravelling, bit by bit.
“Maybe I should leave,” she murmured, her voice shaky, as she tried to step back. But there was no conviction behind the words. Her eyes were still locked on yours, her pupils wide and dark.
“You could,” you said softly, not moving an inch. “But we both know you won’t.”
Natasha blinked, déjà vu coursing through her veins, her chest rising and falling more rapidly now. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and you couldn’t help but follow the motion, drawn in by the subtle, unconscious act. She was trying so hard to keep herself together, but you could see it—the way her bravado was cracking, the controlled exterior fraying at the edges. The tension between you wasn’t just palpable; it was suffocating. You could almost hear the moment it all started to slip from her grasp, the walls she built slowly crumbling under the weight of what you both refused to say.
You took one more step, now standing right in front of her, close enough that you could feel the heat of her body. Slowly, you raised your hand, letting your fingers brush her chin, tilting her head up slightly. Natasha’s breath stuttered at the contact, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment as she leaned into the touch.
“We shouldn’t…” she started, her voice barely a whisper, but the protest sounded weak, almost as if she was trying to convince herself rather than you.
“Tell me to stop,” you murmured, your thumb brushing across her bottom lip, testing the limits of her restraint. “If that’s really what you want.”
She didn’t answer, her lips parting as if to respond, but before you could register what was happening, Natasha took a step back.
Your heart dropped into your stomach. The abrupt movement left you standing there, frozen, watching as she distanced herself from you, her gaze flickering towards the door. For a split second, dread hit you like a shockwave, the weight of misunderstanding settling like a boulder in your chest. Had you pushed too far? Misread everything?
Panic surged through you, wild and untethered. The idea of losing her—Natasha—before you even had the chance to really feel her, to care for her, to love her sent a crushing ache through your chest. You felt the bottom drop out from beneath you, the gravity between you threatening to tear the moment apart. Already, your heart was breaking at the thought.
“I—” you began, voice unsteady, but she was already moving. Her back was to you, and the sound of the door clicking shut was loud in the suddenly suffocating room. Then, a heavier sound followed—the door locking.
When she turned back around, the hesitation was gone. Natasha crossed the space between you with slow, deliberate steps, her eyes fixed on yours. The intensity in her gaze made your breath catch again, but this time for a different reason entirely.
Without a word, Natasha’s hands came up to cradle your face, her fingers curling gently but firmly along your jaw. Her touch was warm, steady, grounding you, and it sent a ripple of relief through you so strong it almost left you breathless.
“Now you know how I felt when you did the exact same thing,” she whispered, her voice soft, but the amusement in it unmistakable.
The smile that tugged at your lips was involuntary, but it was there nonetheless, breaking through the storm of emotion you had been drowning in. Natasha’s lips quirked up too, her thumb brushing over your cheekbone as she leaned in. The atmosphere shifted again—less tense, but still thick with unspoken want.
She tilted her head and pulled you into her. The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, as if she was savouring every second of it. Her lips fit against yours like two celestial bodies coming into alignment, each touch sending sparks through you, igniting something deep in your chest. You could feel her, soft but determined, as if she had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had.
The air around you felt electric, the pull between you undeniable. It was like gravity—impossible to fight, binding you both in a force neither of you could resist. Natasha's lips parted slightly as the kiss deepened, her fingers tightening around your jaw as her body pressed against yours, the space between you collapsing entirely.
It felt like the universe itself had shifted, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The room, the locked door, the rules, all dissolved into nothing. It was just you and Natasha, caught in this perfect, inevitable collision. The weight of reality slipped from your shoulders, leaving behind only the two of you—two strangers in a bar who had been destined to meet, destined to cross paths in ways you couldn’t have predicted. 
Destined to be.
Her mouth was warm, her breath soft and shaky as it mingled with yours, and you couldn’t help but revel in the taste of her. She tasted like infinity, like the moment right before the stars explode into life.
When she finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her green eyes wide and filled with something raw and vulnerable. She looked at you like you were the only thing in the room, like every molecule of her being was drawn to you, unable to resist.
"You could’ve told me," you murmured, still slightly breathless, a smile curling at the corners of your lips.
Natasha’s hand remained cradling your face, her thumb stroking lightly over your skin. "And miss seeing the look on your face?" she replied, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. But her eyes, despite the teasing tone, were filled with a soft intensity that made your heart swell.
Her other hand came to rest on your chest, right over your heart. "You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in it palpable. "How long I’ve thought about it."
Your breath caught in your throat at her words, and before you could respond, Natasha’s lips were on yours again, more insistent this time. The kiss was rougher, more desperate, her need bleeding into the way her body moved against yours. You could feel her pulse quickening, matching the wild rhythm of your own heart.
Her hands slid down to grip your hips, pulling you closer until there was nothing left between you but blossoming love. The universe outside may have been vast and cold, but here, in this moment, all the stars burned just for the two of you.
The heat between you was palpable, an unspoken gravity pulling you toward each other, and you let it take you. There was no need to resist. Not now. Not when she felt so close, so real, as if every point in space had led to this singular, inevitable moment.
Her lips trailed down the curve of your jaw, sending shivers through you, as her hands slipped under your shirt, the cool air hitting your skin for just a moment before her warmth replaced it.
With a slow, deliberate motion, your hand traced down her side, coming to rest on the hem of her black dress. You didn’t rush, savouring the sensation of her skin beneath your fingertips, the way her breath hitched when you tugged her dress up, revealing the soft red lace of her underwear.
Your fingers grazed her thighs, and Natasha shivered at the touch, her breath coming quicker. Her hands were on your neck now, but her grip tightened as your fingers found the edge of her panties, tugging them gently to the side. The sight of her, so open and vulnerable in front of you, sent a surge of warmth through your chest.
You glanced up at her, silently asking for permission, and she gave a small nod, biting her lip as she leaned back slightly on her hands, her legs parting just a little more.
Lowering yourself to your knees, you settled between her legs, your hands resting on her thighs as you pressed a soft kiss just above her knee. You could feel Natasha’s breath falter as you kissed your way up her leg, your lips leaving a trail of warmth against her skin. The closer you got to her core, the more her body responded—her chest rising and falling, her lips slightly parted, and her hands gripping the edge of the desk as if she needed something to anchor her.
When your lips finally reached her centre, you didn’t rush. You kissed her softly at first, savouring the taste of her, keeping her panties pushed to the side. Natasha let out a quiet gasp, her body tensing for a moment before relaxing under your touch. The warmth of her against your lips was intoxicating, and you felt the gentle tremble of her thighs as you began to explore her with slow, deliberate movements.
You took your time, tracing your tongue along the delicate folds of her, each flick and swirl eliciting a soft whimper from her lips. Her fingers tangled in your hair, urging you closer as if she wanted to pull you into her very being. You could feel her heartbeat quickening, the way her breath hitched as you lavished attention on her most sensitive spots.
You could feel how much she wanted this, how much she needed it. Her breathing became shallow, her body arching slightly toward you as you continued your slow, rhythmic motions. Every time your tongue flicked against her, her hips lifted just a little, as if chasing the feeling, as if trying to get closer to the pleasure she had denied herself for so long.
The classroom was filled with the sound of her quiet gasps and the soft, wet sounds of your mouth moving against her. Your hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as she lost herself to the sensation, her body trembling with each flick of your tongue.
Natasha's head tipped back, her mouth falling open as the pleasure built inside her. You could feel her body tightening, her thighs trembling against your cheeks as she got closer to the edge. There was something so raw, so incredibly real about seeing her like this again—vulnerable, open, completely consumed by the moment.
You quickened your pace, your tongue swirling in a way that made Natasha’s hips jerk upward, a louder moan slipping from her lips. She was close now, her breaths coming in short, desperate bursts. Her hands found the back of your head, her fingers threading through your hair, holding you in place as she rode the waves of pleasure.
Her body tensed, and for a brief moment, everything seemed to stop—the air between you still, her breath caught in her throat. And then, with a shuddering gasp, Natasha fell apart above you, her body convulsing as the orgasm washed over her in waves. Her legs tightened around your head, her hips bucking as she rode out the pleasure, her hands gripping your hair so tightly it almost hurt.
You didn’t stop, not until you had wrung every last bit of pleasure from her, not until Natasha collapsed back onto the desk, her chest heaving, her body trembling from the aftershocks. You slowly pulled away, pressing a final soft kiss to her inner thigh before standing, wiping your mouth as you looked at her.
She was a vision—her hair dishevelled, her skin flushed, and her eyes glassy with the aftermath of her release. And yet, even in her most vulnerable moment, she looked at you with such intensity, such unspoken emotion, that it took your breath away.
Still catching her breath, Natasha reached for you, pulling herself up toward you. You could see the hunger in her eyes, the unspoken need for more. And without a word, she slid off the desk and onto her knees in front of you, her hands making quick work of your belt as her eyes never left yours.
Natasha’s hands moved with a newfound urgency, trembling slightly as she worked the buckle of your belt. Her breath was still ragged, her cheeks flushed from the intensity of her orgasm, but there was no hesitation in her movements—just raw need. As soon as she freed you, her eyes flickered up to meet yours, a fire igniting behind them that sent a shiver down your spine.
Her lips parted, soft and full, as she leaned forward, brushing them against the tip of your length in a delicate, almost reverent kiss. The gentleness of it was a sharp contrast to the storm of emotions swirling between you. You could feel the warmth of her breath ghosting over your skin, and it made every inch of your body hum with anticipation.
Without breaking eye contact, Natasha opened her mouth wider, her tongue flicking out to taste you, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity straight through you. She started slow, her lips wrapping around you with a softness that had your knees nearly buckling. Her tongue worked gently, teasing the sensitive skin as she took you deeper into her mouth, inch by inch. The wet heat of her mouth surrounded you, and the quiet sound of her sucking softly filled the air.
You let out a quiet groan, your hands instinctively finding purchase in her hair, gripping gently as Natasha began to move her head, establishing a rhythm that was both slow and deliberate. Each bob of her head sent a surge of pleasure through you, and you could feel the tightness in your chest building, the way your body responded to the way she worked her mouth over you.
Natasha’s hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as she continued, her lips gliding over you with memorised precision. She hollowed her cheeks, the suction pulling you deeper, and every time she pulled back, her tongue swirled around the head in a way that made you gasp, the pressure mounting in your core.
But she wasn’t content with keeping it soft for long.
Her hands slid to the base of your shaft, gripping you with just the right amount of pressure as she took you deeper. The first time she tried to swallow you whole, she gagged slightly, her throat constricting around you. The lewd, wet sound that followed made your head spin. But instead of pulling away, Natasha pushed herself further, determined to take all of you.
You could feel her struggling for control, her throat spasming around you as she worked to accommodate your size. The sensation was overwhelming—her warm, tight throat constricting as she swallowed around you, her lips stretched tight around your length. The sounds she made were filthy, the wet slurp of her mouth working over you mingling with her occasional gagging, and each one sent a jolt of pleasure straight through your body.
The more she struggled, the harder you felt yourself throbbing in her mouth. Natasha was relentless now, her pace quickening as she took you deeper with every pass. You could feel the tip of your cock brushing the back of her throat, the wet gagging sounds becoming more frequent as she pushed herself further, determined to take all of you, no matter the effort it took.
You groaned deeply, your grip on her hair tightening as your hips started to move on their own, thrusting into her mouth in time with her motions. Natasha didn’t pull back. If anything, she welcomed it, her hands gripping your thighs harder as she let you guide her, her eyes fluttering closed as she focused on the pleasure she was giving you.
It wasn’t long before you felt the telltale signs of your climax building—the tight coil in your core, the way your muscles tensed with each thrust into her eager mouth. Natasha must have felt it too, because she moaned around you, the vibration sending you spiralling closer to the edge.
"Natasha—" you gasped, trying to warn her, but she didn’t stop. If anything, she only became more determined, her pace quickening, her mouth working harder as she sucked you off with reckless abandon. Her throat constricted around you again, the lewd, obscene sounds she made echoing in your ears as your climax loomed just seconds away.
You felt the first wave hit you hard, your body tensing as your release surged through you. Natasha moaned as you came, her mouth still wrapped tightly around you as she swallowed greedily, not missing a single drop. The sensation of her throat working to swallow everything only heightened the intensity of your orgasm, and your hips bucked against her mouth as you rode out the waves of pleasure.
She didn’t pull away until you were spent, her lips and tongue still gently teasing you as she coaxed every last bit from you, ensuring there wasn’t a trace left. When she finally pulled back, her lips glistened with saliva, and her cheeks were flushed. She looked up at you with a satisfied gleam in her eyes, licking her lips as if savouring the taste of you.
For a moment, all you could do was stand there, chest heaving, completely undone by the sight of her on her knees, her breath heavy and uneven as she gazed up at you, her lips still swollen from the effort. The look she gave you was nothing short of triumphant, like she had conquered something within herself, and the sight made your heart race all over again.
Natasha rose from her knees, her body still trembling with the aftermath of the intensity between you. Her lips parted as she stood before you, her breath coming in soft, uneven gasps. You could see the raw emotion in her eyes—desire, need, something deeper that neither of you could yet name. Her hands reached for you, delicate fingers brushing against your jaw as she leaned in, pressing her forehead gently against yours.
For a moment, everything was quiet. The world outside faded to a dull hum, and all that remained was the warmth of Natasha’s body so close to yours, the lingering taste of her still on your lips. Her breath mingled with yours as she hovered just a breath away, her eyes searching your face like she was trying to memorise every detail. Then, with a soft sigh, she closed the distance, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss so gentle it almost brought tears to your eyes.
It was soft at first—tender, vulnerable, as if she was offering a part of herself that she had kept secluded for too long. You could feel the warmth of her lips, the way they trembled slightly against yours, like she was scared to give in completely but couldn’t hold back anymore. Her hands cupped your face, her fingers threading into your hair as she deepened the kiss, her need growing more insistent.
The softness of her lips pressed against yours sent waves of heat through you, but it wasn’t just desire—it was something more profound. You could feel the emotion behind every touch, the vulnerability in the way her lips moved against yours, as if she was pouring every unsaid word, every hidden feeling, into that kiss. It was a surrender, a trust that left your heart racing and your hands instinctively wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space between you.
Natasha melted into you, her body pressing into yours as the kiss deepened. Her breath hitched as your hands slid up her back, your fingers tracing the curve of her spine, drawing her even closer. Her lips parted, and she let out a soft, needy moan that sent a shiver down your spine. The tenderness between you was starting to unravel, replaced by something more desperate, more consuming.
The kiss grew rougher, more urgent, and Natasha seemed to lose herself in it. Her hands gripped your shoulders for balance as her body pressed hard against yours. You could feel the way her chest heaved against you, her pulse quickening as her need overtook her. The softness of the moment shattered into something raw, and Natasha almost fell into you, pushing you backward until the chair behind you caught you off guard.
You fell back into the chair, the force of her body against yours making your breath catch. Natasha hovered above you for a heartbeat, her eyes dark with lust, her lips swollen and wet from both the kiss and your release. Her hands moved quickly, efficiently, as she straddled your lap, one leg on either side of you, her thighs pressing against your hips. She was wild now, driven by pure need, and you could feel it in every hurried movement, every rough kiss she pressed to your mouth.
With a low, needy moan, Natasha reached down, her fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. She didn’t waste any time—didn’t hesitate—before taking them off quickly, exposing herself to you. The sight of her, ready, desperate, and completely bare, had your heart pounding in your chest. The slick heat of her pressed against you, the warmth of her thighs enveloping your hips as she positioned herself above you, sent a jolt of electricity straight through your core.
You could feel her trembling against you, her body so close, so needy, as she slowly moved over your shaft. Her wetness coated you as she aligned herself, the tip of your length brushing against her entrance, and you both let out a sharp gasp at the contact. Natasha’s hands clutched at your shoulders, nails digging into your skin as she bit her lip, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment as she adjusted to the sensation.
The heat between your bodies was overwhelming, the tension thick in the air as Natasha lowered herself onto you. Inch by inch, she took you, the tight heat of her enveloping you as she slid down, her thighs pressing tighter against your hips. The sensation of her, so warm and wet and ready for you, had your breath stuttering in your throat. You could feel every tremor of her body, every shaky exhale she let out as she took all of you.
Natasha paused when you were fully seated inside her, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as she adjusted to the fullness of you. Her hands moved from your shoulders to your face, cupping your cheeks as she leaned in, pressing her forehead against yours again. Her eyes were half-lidded, dark with desire, but there was still that hint of vulnerability, that moment of quiet between the storm as she let herself feel everything.
The connection between you was palpable, electric, as Natasha began to move. Slowly at first, her hips rolled in gentle, deliberate motions, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through both of you. You could feel the heat of her skin against yours, the slick slide of her body as she rode you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. Her breath was ragged, her moans quiet but full of need as she moved against you, her thighs tightening around your hips with every motion.
Your hands found her waist, guiding her as she moved, feeling the way her body responded to you with every thrust. The heat between you grew unbearable, the way she moved—slow at first, savouring every inch of you—driving you both mad with need. Each roll of her hips sent you deeper inside her, and you could feel the tight clench of her body around you, pulling you deeper with each movement.
But it wasn’t enough for her. Natasha’s need overtook her, and her pace quickened, her hips slamming down harder, rougher, as she lost herself in the pleasure. Her moans grew louder, her breath hitching every time you filled her. The lewd, wet sounds of her body moving against yours filled the air, mingling with the sharp gasps and moans that escaped her lips.
She was wild now, her movements frantic as she chased her release, her fingers gripping your shoulders so tightly you were sure they’d leave marks. But you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the overwhelming sensation of her, the way she moved against you, the heat and tightness of her surrounding you as she rode you harder, faster.
You could feel the tension building again, the coil of pleasure tightening in your core as Natasha moved against you, her moans growing louder, more desperate with every second. You could feel her body trembling, the way her thighs quivered as she rode you, her need for release overtaking everything else.
Natasha’s pace quickened, the rhythm of her hips growing more urgent, her body seeking yours with a desperate need that matched your own. The way she moved, the way her body clenched around you—it was raw, electric, and yet there was still an underlying softness to her, a vulnerability that made the moment even more intense.
Her moans filled the air, breathless and ragged, each one sending waves of heat straight to your core. You could feel her hands gripping your shoulders tighter, her nails digging into your skin as she rode you harder, faster, her need consuming her. Her thighs pressed tight against your sides, her body moving with an almost instinctual hunger, and yet each roll of her hips was accompanied by a shuddering breath, a whisper of something deeper than just lust.
Your hands slid down to her hips, gripping her tightly as you guided her movements, feeling the slick heat of her skin under your palms. The connection between you was electric, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve in your body. Each thrust brought her closer, her body trembling against you as she pushed herself closer to the edge.
The sound of her—the obscene, wet sounds of her body moving against yours, the breathless moans that escaped her lips—drove you wild. Every gasp, every tremor of her body, pulled you deeper into her, and you could feel the tension building in your own body, the tight coil of pleasure winding tighter with every thrust.
Natasha’s head tilted back, her eyes fluttering shut as her lips parted in a silent cry of pleasure. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body shivering against yours as she rode the waves of sensation, her movements growing more frantic. You could feel the way her body tightened around you, the way she clenched with every thrust, pulling you deeper, harder.
You leaned up, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans as your hands slid up her back, pulling her flush against you. Natasha responded with a desperate, needy whine, her body arching into yours as she gave in completely to the moment. Her fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as she kissed you like she couldn’t get enough, her lips moving with a hunger that mirrored the wild rhythm of her hips.
The room was thick with the sounds of your bodies moving together, the wet slide of her against you, the ragged breaths and moans filling the air as the tension between you built to a fever pitch. You could feel her trembling, the way her body shuddered with every thrust, her nails digging into your skin as she lost herself in the pleasure.
But it still wasn’t enough.
With a growl of frustration, Natasha broke the kiss, her breath coming in harsh gasps as she pulled back, her eyes wild with need. Her hands gripped your shoulders, her body shaking with the force of her desire, and before you could react, she pushed herself off of you, standing on trembling legs as she backed away.
Her chest heaved with every breath, her lips swollen from your kiss, her eyes dark with lust as she stared at you, her body glistening with sweat. She didn’t say a word, didn’t need to—her intentions were clear in the way she moved, the way her hands reached out for you.
You barely had time to register her next movement before she was on you again, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you up from the chair. The force of it sent you stumbling, but Natasha was relentless, her fingers gripping your arm with surprising strength as she pulled you toward the nearest wall. Her back slammed against it with a rough thud, but she didn’t seem to care. She was too far gone, too consumed by the raw, animalistic need that had overtaken her.
Her hands were on you again, pulling you closer, her body arching into yours as she pressed her hips against you, grinding in desperate, wild movements. The friction between your bodies sent jolts of pleasure through you, and you could feel the heat of her, slick and ready, as she ground herself against you.
"More," she gasped, her voice raw, barely more than a whisper as her lips brushed against your ear. "I want more."
Her demand was primal, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You didn’t hesitate. Your hands were on her in an instant, rough and demanding as you grabbed her hips, lifting her with ease and pinning her to the wall. Natasha let out a sharp gasp, her legs wrapping around your waist as she clung to you, her nails raking down your back as she bucked against you, desperate for the release you both craved.
The world outside faded into nothing as you slammed into her, hard and fast, your hips driving into her with a force that sent her head tilting back against the wall. The sounds that tore from her throat were obscene—loud, lewd moans that echoed in the room, mingling with the wet slap of skin against skin as you fucked her with a raw, primal intensity.
Natasha’s body arched off the wall, her chest pressing against yours as she moaned your name, her voice breaking with every thrust. She was wild, lost in the moment, her legs tightening around your waist as she rocked against you, meeting every thrust with an equal fervour. The feel of her, so tight and hot around you, was almost overwhelming, and it took everything in you to keep your pace steady, rough, giving her everything she wanted—everything she needed.
Her hands found your face, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you into a bruising kiss, her lips moving desperately against yours. Her tongue slid against yours, hungry, needy, as if she couldn’t get enough of you. Every kiss was like fire, every touch igniting something deep within you.
Your bodies moved in perfect sync, a wild, chaotic rhythm that sent you both hurtling toward the edge. Natasha’s breath came in sharp gasps, her moans filling the air as her body tightened around you, her thighs trembling as she clung to you, her nails biting into your shoulders. You could feel her close, so close, and the thought of her unravelling in your arms only spurred you on, pushing harder, faster, until neither of you could take it anymore.
Natasha cried out, her head falling back against the wall as her body shuddered around you, her release hitting her like a tidal wave. The tight, slick heat of her pulsed around you, pulling you under as you followed her over the edge, your own release tearing through you with an intensity that left you breathless.
With a final thrust, you felt yourself spilling into Natasha, the sensation of warmth flooding her as you lost yourself in the pleasure of release. The world around you blurred, eclipsed by the intensity of the moment—her body pulsing around you, squeezing you tight as she milked every drop from you, her own breathless gasps mingling with yours.
Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut, her head tilting back against the wall as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensation. The heat of you filling her was unlike anything she’d felt before—a hot wave crashing over her as pleasure washed through her, leaving her breathless. She could feel every drop, the warmth spreading inside her, a tingling aftershock that made her pulse quicken even further. “God, yes,” she whispered, lost in the moment, her voice thick with desire and something deeper—something that had been brewing between you for so long.
Your own sensations were intoxicating, the feel of her surrounding you, the way her body reacted to every movement, every pulse of pleasure. You could hardly contain yourself, the mixture of euphoria and satisfaction consuming you as you revelled in the intimate connection you shared. There was something breathtaking about finishing inside her, about the trust, the intimacy, and the undeniable bond that felt more tangible than ever before.
As the waves of pleasure began to ebb, you cradled Natasha in your arms, her body trembling slightly as you pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. The intimacy of the moment lingered between you, and you both took a moment to breathe, hearts racing in sync. But soon, the practicality of the classroom flooded back in, and you gently guided Natasha back to the desk.
With a quick motion, you pushed aside her papers and markers, sending them tumbling to the floor with a soft thud. The suddenness of it all made Natasha scowl at you, though her eyes still held a spark of ecstasy. “Those were my actual papers, you know. Students’ exams, assignments,” she said, her voice mockingly stern but the flush in her cheeks betraying her arousal.
You shrugged, a playful smirk creeping onto your lips. “I promise I’ll clean up for you later.” Then, without hesitation, you slowly ground yourself into her, drawing a low, needy moan from her lips.
Her expression shifted, that scowl faltering as pleasure flickered in her eyes, but she quickly regained her composure, some of her confidence returning. She shook her head, grabbing you by your tie with a firm grip. “Clean up now.”
“Alright, alright!” you laughed, pulling out of her with a reluctant groan, the sensation of leaving her tight warmth making your body ache for her again. You hurriedly gathered the scattered papers and markers, your heart racing not just from the lingering pleasure, but from the silly urgency of the moment.
Once everything was piled neatly on the other side of her desk, you turned back to find Natasha waiting for you, her legs spread wide and her gaze sultry, yet commanding. There was a newfound softness to her submission, a flicker of vulnerability beneath that confident exterior.
“Look at what you’ve done,” she teased, her voice low and laced with satisfaction. She shifted slightly, showcasing the aftermath of your union—a glistening creampie that had pooled at her entrance. The sight sent a rush of heat straight to your core, desire rekindling in an instant.
The sight of her, flushed and beautiful, a mixture of confidence and submission, made your breath hitch. You took a step closer, captivated by her, by the warmth of the moment and the spark of something new blooming between you. The playful tension hung thick in the air, a sweet promise of what was to come.
You couldn’t help but be captivated by the sight of Natasha sprawled out before you, her body a beautiful mess of satisfaction and desire. With a mix of awe and urgency, you knelt down and gently lifted her legs, holding them up to give yourself a better view. The sight of your shared release oozing from her made your breath catch—an intoxicating mix of both of you, a physical testament to what you had just shared.
It kept coming, slow and steady, and you felt a surge of possessiveness wash over you. Mesmerised, you simply looked, taking in every detail—the way her slickness glistened against her soft skin, the way her breathing still quivered with remnants of pleasure. Natasha chuckled gently, her eyes sparkling as she took in your reaction, the rough moments from before fading into a sweet memory. “Come here, Дорога́я [Darling],” she murmured, caressing your cheek with her delicate fingers.
Before you could fully respond, she pulled you back in with a gentle tug on your tie, a smirk playing at her lips. The heat of her touch made your cheeks flush deeper, and you made a mental note to wear a tie more often, just for her. As her legs shifted, wrapping around your waist, the connection between you deepened, the weight of her body pressing against you in the most inviting way.
You gently pushed back inside her, entering her again with a deliberate slowness that drew a soft sigh from her lips. The warmth enveloped you, a beautiful contrast to the cool air of the room, and you could feel the shared release mixing with the sensation of her body welcoming you back in. It felt like coming home. The trust between you was palpable, an unspoken agreement that only strengthened the shared bond.
Natasha’s gaze locked onto yours, and in that moment, you could see the love blooming beneath the layers of your physical connection. There was a softness in her eyes, an openness that melted the remnants of your earlier roughness. You felt possessive, yet tender, wanting to cherish this moment, to worship her as she surrendered beneath you. Each thrust was deliberate, coaxing soft whimpers from her lips, and the way she arched into you only fueled your desire to give her everything.
“Look at you,” you breathed, your voice thick with emotion as you watched her face, her expression a mix of vulnerability and trust. She smiled back, a small, knowing grin that sent a thrill down your spine. In her gaze, you saw a world of possibilities, a future that began right here, right now. And you couldn't wait to explore it with her.
With each movement, you found yourself lost in her, in the way she surrendered, in the way she filled your heart with warmth. The trust was unbreakable, and as you held her close, cradling her like the treasure she was, you knew you’d do anything to keep her safe—body and soul.
You couldn’t get enough of Natasha—her warmth, her softness, the way she surrendered to you completely. As you pound into her, the desk creaked beneath you, a quiet reminder of the chaos you had just created. Your body hovered over hers, and you allowed yourself to drink in the sight of her in this exact moment—hair splayed across the desk, cheeks flushed, and those captivating eyes shimmering with a mixture of desire and trust.
With a tender touch, you lowered yourself to her, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both soft and passionate. It felt like an unspoken promise, a reminder of the connection that bound you two together. Natasha melted beneath you, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you closer, deepening the kiss with a fervour that ignited your own desire.
The world around you seemed to fade once again, leaving only the two of you in this intimate bubble, but as the kiss deepened, a fire ignited within you. You began to move faster, harder against her, your body fitting against hers in the most delicious way, feeling every inch of her against you. The warmth of her skin beneath your fingertips sent shivers down your spine, a stark contrast to the cool wood of the desk beneath her.
You settled into a rhythm, wanting to savour the moment, the way she responded to you. Her breath hitched, a soft moan escaping her lips as you hit that perfect spot, drawing forth more of those loving, yet utterly pornographic sounds that filled the room.
“Just like that,” she breathed, her voice thick with pleasure. “Please, don’t stop.”
Her encouragement was like a spark, igniting something primal within you. You pushed deeper, your pace quickening as the need to feel her completely enveloped you. As you pressed into her, you could feel her pulling you closer by your tie, the connection between you becoming more electrifying with each tug.
But as the intensity built, so did the chaos of the moment. Your movements became slightly rougher, the desk creaking more beneath the force of your passion, and you felt the neatly stacked papers you had just organised go flying in a flurry, scattering across the floor like fallen leaves. A soft gasp escaped Natasha as she looked at the mess, her expression a mixture of amusement and desire.
“Oops,” you murmured, a grin breaking across your face as you continued your relentless pace, not willing to let the interruption slow you down. The laughter that bubbled up from Natasha turned into a series of moans as she found her rhythm with you again, her pleasure rising higher.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she gasped, her legs wrapping tighter around your waist, urging you deeper.
You couldn’t help but comply, your desire morphing into something more intense, more commanding. You felt powerful, her submission only fueling your fire, and as you took charge, you could see her surrendering completely.
“Tell me how it feels,” you demanded softly, your breath ghosting over her ear, and you felt her shudder beneath you.
“More,” she moaned, shaking her head, her voice thick with need. “I need more.”
That simple command ignited your desire further. You focused your thrusts, pulling back just enough to thrust back in harder, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the air. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through both of you, and as her moans grew louder, you felt her body tightening around you, drawing you in deeper.
With every thrust, you pushed her closer to the edge, feeling her body respond so eagerly to yours, the world outside fading into nothingness. The connection between you was raw, electric, and as Natasha’s fingers tightened in your hair, you felt a rush of pride wash over you. She could be yours—this beautiful woman beneath you, completely yours to love and cherish.
With every thrust, the tension coiled tighter and tighter in your core, a delicious pressure building that threatened to overwhelm you. You could feel the heat radiating between your bodies, the raw intimacy wrapping around you both like a warm blanket. Natasha's body responded eagerly, urging you on with every moan and whimper, her legs still tightly wrapped around your waist as if she never wanted to let you go.
“Please,” she gasped, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. “Inside. W’na feel you, please.”
Those words sent a bolt of electricity through you, pushing you closer to the edge. The way she begged for you only heightened your desire, your body moving in a desperate rhythm, driven by an instinctual need to fill her. The universe stood still as you surrendered to the moment, pouring every ounce of yourself into her.
As you felt the wave building, your heart raced in tandem with your body, anticipation igniting every nerve ending. “Natasha…” you gasped, feeling the overwhelming pull of pleasure.
“Да [Yes], yes! Please!” she urged, her voice a desperate whisper as the connection between you ignited. 
With a final, deep thrust, you felt the wave crash over you—an overwhelming rush of pleasure that sent you spiralling into ecstasy. You released inside her, warmth flooding both your bodies as the sheer amount of your orgasm spilled into her. It felt electric, each pulse of your release sending shockwaves through Natasha’s body. 
Her moans turned into gasps, the sound rising from deep within her, a symphony of pleasure that reverberated against your chest. The sensation was overwhelming—her walls clenching around you, tighter and tighter, as if trying to draw every last drop deeper inside her. “Oh m– s’too much!” Natasha gasped, her breath hitching as her eyes widened, a mix of pleasure and surprise washing over her features. “Cлишком много, пожалуйста, слишком много, ещё— [Too much, please, too much, more]” The urgency in her voice sent a thrill through you, igniting a possessive fire as you felt her body shudder in response to your release. The warmth of your orgasm mixed with the slickness of her arousal created a heady sensation, drawing you closer together, deeper into this moment of blissful intimacy. You could feel her heartbeat, wild and frantic, echoing in time with yours, as her body quivered beneath you, a perfect melding of desire and urgency.
The kiss that followed was frantic, filled with the taste of each other’s desperation, but in the frenzy, you didn’t notice as a final spurt escaped, landing directly on her dress.
As the intensity faded, reality rushed back. You pulled away slightly, breathless and flushed, and that’s when you noticed the mess you’d made. Natasha’s laughter filled the air, bright and melodic, breaking the tension of the moment. “You’ve really done it this time,” she teased, the playful scowl back on her lips, even as her body betrayed her with soft, lingering shivers and twitches of pleasure. “Those were my students’ papers, you know! One of those is yours!”
You chuckled sheepishly, a small hint of embarrassment creeping in as you glanced at the scattered papers across the floor, remnants of your earlier chaos. “It was calculated,” you said, trying to sound earnest as you began to gather the papers back into a pile.
But just as you focused on tidying up, Natasha gasped, her eyes wide as she looked down at her dress, spotting the evidence of your earlier mistake. “Oh my god,” she said, shock mingling with delight. “You did NOT just—”
You couldn’t help but grin, your cheeks warming as the reality of your clumsiness hit you. “I didn’t mean to—”
Her gaze softened, and that familiar spark lit up her eyes again. “You’re lucky I’m so turned on right now,” she quipped, her lips curling into a playful smile. “But you might have to make it up to me.”
Once the papers were neatly stacked, you turned back to her, noticing her legs still slightly parted, a lingering invitation. But her gaze was focused on you, amusement dancing in her eyes, and you couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking.
“I can’t believe I’m falling for my clumsy student I met in a bar,” she said aloud, shaking her head in disbelief, even as a smile crept onto her lips. “They’re incredible at this—and at maths and physics—but my god, she’s such a mess.”
And in that moment, you felt a warmth swell in your chest, knowing that amidst the chaos, something beautiful was blooming between you both.
The soft hum of the engine filled the space between you, and as you glanced over at Natasha, you noticed the way her gaze lingered on you—like you were the entire universe contained within her eyes, the very centre of her galaxy. It made your heart swell with warmth and a sense of intimacy that felt brand new.
“So, what do you call this?” you asked, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I mean, since I’m not really your pet.” You furrowed your brow, feigning deep contemplation. “Teacher’s pet seems a bit off…”
Natasha couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head at your antics, her laughter bubbling up like sunlight piercing through clouds. “You’re a special case, you know that?” she replied, her eyes sparkling with delight. The confidence you wore so easily now intertwined beautifully with a vulnerability that both of you had shed in that classroom, revealing the deeper parts of your personalities that you’d kept hidden.
“So, are you a student’s pet, then?” you shot back, a teasing grin spreading across your face.
That made Natasha snort, a sound that was both unexpected and delightful. You couldn’t help but join in her laughter, the sound echoing through the car as you interlaced your fingers, feeling that shared warmth enveloping you both.
Once you were nestled together in her bed, the world outside faded into insignificance. The room felt like its own universe, wrapped in the glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Your head rested on Natasha’s chest, her steady heartbeat beneath your ear like a soothing rhythm that kept you grounded. Your fingers traced the soft strands of her hair, twirling them gently, while her fingers danced across your back, tracing patterns that felt like constellations only the two of you could understand.
In the quiet, you could feel the depth of your connection, the vulnerability between you. After a moment, you looked up at her, heart fluttering with the memory of her earlier words. “You know,” you whispered, your voice soft and filled with affection, “your Russian was really attractive.”
Natasha chuckled, her fingers still tracing stars on your skin, her eyes filled with a warmth that seemed to encompass you entirely. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Is that so?” she murmured, her tone playful but tender, her affection unmistakable as she continued to hold you close. Natasha's smile widened, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks as she looked at you with an expression that held both playfulness and sincerity, but mostly love.
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minisugakoobies · 4 months ago
Text
two am | yjh
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Pairing: Jeonghan x GNReader (afab)
Genre: smut, angst, porn with the barest of plot, exes to lovers, non-idol!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: late night texting, excessive use of the pet name 'baby,' fighting as foreplay, dirty talk, multiple references to reader's pussy, implied/referenced cheating, references to oral sex (reader receiving), slight exhibitionism, riding/grinding, nipple play (licking/biting/sucking), p in v protected sex, Jeonghan is bad for reader but they can't stay away
Word Count: 1.6k
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me
Summary: It's two am and your ex is texting you again.
Text Prompts: Both are in italicized pink font in the story.
A/N: I'm back with another installment in my SVT texts series. This one is dedicated to @minttangerines. HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUCE!! 🎉🎉 I brought you some toxic Jeonghan, hope you like him. 💜 Thank you for being such an amazing friend, tour guide, driver, and partner in crime. 😘
Soundtrack: 2AM by SZA; Sleazy Bed Track by the Bluetones
Unbeta’d as usual. If you like this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕
SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist
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It’s nearly two in the morning when the warning pops up on your phone:
Cover your phone, explicit material coming your way
You barely have the time to excuse yourself from the table, heading in a panic towards the bathroom, before the next text from your ex arrives.
Jeonghan never includes his full face in his photos. It’s always just that maddening smirk of his, catching your eye first before it’s drawn down to the main focus - thin fingers wrapped around an obscene bulge, a darkened tip poking above the waistband of his boxers. 
You lock yourself in a stall and fire back.
You: You have to stop sending me these photos
Satan: That’s a rude way to say thank you
You: I’m serious, Jeonghan. We’re done
He doesn’t reply. You know better than to think he’s accepted your response. He’s refused to accept it for the last three months. 
Your phone chimes. Another photo. The boxers have been pulled down. You bite your lip, then catch yourself, snarling at your reflection on your screen.
You: I said stop!
Satan: That’s what you say now, but we both know that’s not what you’ll be saying later
You: There won’t be a later
You: Not this time
Satan: Really? You gonna tell me you don’t miss this cock?
Satan: That your pussy’s not already dripping imagining it inside you?
It’s the anger his words stir in you that’s making your pulse pound right now, you tell yourself.
You almost believe it. 
Satan: Come over, baby. Wanna make a mess of you like I did last time
You: Not. Happening.
Satan: You out with your friends again tonight? 
Of course he knows where you are. You’ve been going out with your friends every week since the breakup. Tonight’s the first night in a while that you’re sober, not in the mood to drink. This conversation is making you regret that. 
You: What does it matter if I am?
Satan: It’s almost closing time. Think you can find someone to take home?
Satan: Someone to make you forget about me? About how I fuck you?
Satan: You know no one can make you cum like me
To think his confidence is what once drew you to him. Now it repulses you, almost as much as your thighs suddenly clenching together does. 
You: You’re unreal
Satan: That’s right
You: That’s not a compliment
Satan: I know what you want
You: What I want is for you to fuck off forever
Satan: Baby please. Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy this
Satan: You can block me anytime you want. But you don’t
Satan: Why do you think that is?
You could answer him. Argue for a while, like you always do. Like you always did. It was the thing that the two of you did best - second only to fucking. You scroll upthread, looking at the last time you fought, reminding yourself how it ended:
Satan: Don’t tell me what to do
You: Eat me out
Satan: Okay tell me what to do
It’s not in your phone what happened next, but it’s seared into your memory, replaying behind your eyelids - lying on Jeonghan’s bed, legs splayed while he puts his wicked mouth to its best use. 
But you also remember the come down. The anger at your weakness. The shame. Knowing nothing has changed. That he hasn’t changed.  
You keep scrolling back, seeing the same thing over and over, watching the pattern repeat. You could stop it right now - end the conversation, delete him from your phone, and go rejoin your friends. That would be the smart thing to do. 
Satan: It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to admit it
Satan: Just come over and show me
If only you were smart.
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“Mmmphm!”
The hem of your shirt makes a terrible gag, doing nothing to keep your volume down. Jeonghan’s head snaps up, gaze torn away from where he was watching himself disappear into you.
“Quiet, baby. Do you want them to hear you?” 
The “them” in question are his roommates, Joshua and Seungcheol, who are both sleeping on the other sides of the walls. Jeonghan would be sleeping in one of those bedrooms, too, if he wasn’t out here fucking you on the couch. Or, rather, sitting back and looking smug while you ride him on the couch. 
He knows you don’t want anyone to hear you, so you don’t bother to answer him, just glare while stuffing more of the already spit-soaked material into your mouth. His roommates would judge you for being here. Just like your friends did earlier, when you told them you were leaving. You said you were tired, but they’ve noticed your pattern too. And they’ve stopped trying to get you to break it, unwilling to expend their energy on such an impossible task. 
That’s fine. You don’t need to drag anyone else down to the bottom with you.
Jeonghan runs his fingertips over the exposed skin of your stomach, chuckling when you shiver. 
“Always so sensitive,” he tuts, shaking his head. 
He cups your breasts with his warm hands, pushing your shirt up further until the chilly night air hits your nipples, then bends his head down enough to lightly graze one with his teeth. You gasp, nearly dropping your impromptu gag, and Jeonghan pauses with his lips near your other tit, looking up at you, saying nothing, but his eyes communicate so clearly what he’s thinking - Be good, baby. 
If your relationship was a song, that was his refrain:
Be good, baby, I have to work late this weekend.
Be good, baby, I’m going out for drinks with some coworkers.
Baby, she’s just a friend. Don’t worry. Be good for me.
Despite everything, a part of you still yearns to be good for him. So you bite down harder. 
Jeonghan hums in approval. His mouth latches onto your other nipple, sucking lewdly, not much quieter than your whining has been. Hypocrite. You close your eyes, trying to shut out your loud as fuck thoughts and focus on the wet warmth of his tongue as it laves over and around your nipple a few times, in broad, messy strokes.
You arch into him, lacing your fingers through his hair to try to hold him in place. But like always, he can’t be tamed, lifting his head to smirk at you. You whimper, and he smiles harder, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you to his hungry mouth. You eagerly lean forward as your shirt falls from your jaw. 
Jeonghan’s kisses overwhelm your senses until you’re drowning in him. His tongue glides like honey, thick and slow, melting over yours, and you groan, grinding on him slowly.
This is what you needed. Even after all that went down, all the lies, all the tears, you still crave him, body and soul. If this is the only way that you can have him, this two a.m. interlude, then you’ll take every second you can, ignoring the little voice whispering that you’ll regret them all.
“That’s it, just like that.” Jeonghan looks down again, mesmerized by the smooth roll of your hips. His fingers sink into the flesh of your ass, hard enough that you know you’ll still feel his touch tomorrow. “Fuck yes, baby, ride it.” 
He guides you up and down his shaft, the wet sounds of your cunt sliding over him embarrassingly loud in the still room, and you let him control the pace, all your concentration on his lips - kissing them, nibbling them, sucking on them one by one. Trying desperately to get your fill of them, of him, because this is it. This is the last time. You swear it. 
Maybe this time, it will stick.
Jeonghan’s thumb rolls over your clit, making you gasp into his mouth. He does it again, and again, and just like that you’re falling apart, body singing electric as he lights up your nervous system with his touch. He keeps thrusting up into you, taking control again as you tremble above him, and you know he’s reaching his crest, the familiar signs too obvious to miss. He drops his head, muttering an endless stream of ‘fuck’s and ‘baby’s in that choked voice of his, and then his hands lock your hips in place, as deep as he can get as he fills the condom he wears.
It’s always intense, this moment, when it comes. The two of you, breathing heavy and spent, clinging to each other as you ride out the waves, like you’re hanging on for dear life. Or maybe that’s just you. Because you know that once the high is gone…
“Knew this pussy missed me.”
…the lows return.
Jeonghan laughs when you push yourself off his chest. He pinches your ass cheek for good measure, and you scowl, scrambling to climb out of his lap as quickly as you can, which is pretty difficult given your loose limbs. 
“Don’t say that.” 
Jeonghan watches with simmering amusement as you dress hastily, fumbling with your bra to the point that you nearly decide to leave it. “But it’s true.” 
“No, it’s not, and besides, it’s fucking gross when you talk like that. Like I’m not a person or something.” 
“Whatever.” He’s already losing interest, reaching for his phone. No need to argue anymore. He got his. 
You can’t get your clothes on fast enough. “Stop sending me photos. Don’t text me again.” 
You might as well be talking to the couch. He hums mechanically, scrolling away. “Lock the door on your way out.”
In the elevator, your finger hovers in its usual spot over the delete button. 
A chime. Jeonghan’s mouth, tongue extending between the peace sign he’s flashing, followed by four words: Sweet dreams, baby. 
You slip your phone back into your pocket as you descend.
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© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.
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