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tonycries · 4 hours ago

Text

KilIin' It Girl!

Synopsis. He’s a 10 but when he says “just” the tip - it’s never just the tip.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, “just the tip”, they go feraI, manhandling, spítting, chokíng, rough s, PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, they’re big, tummy buIges, pressing down on it, Gojo’s powers, creampíes, cúmplay, implied marathons, true form Sukuna, dp, matíng presses, p talking, p sIapping, trying to hold himself back (failing), pet names, swéaring.

A/N. This song is saur good omg-

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The pull-out game

Oh- Toji doesn’t think he’ll make it out of this alive.

He’s clawing desperately onto the sides of your thighs, toned hips crashing against your shivering front with a grunt—“Just the tip now…atta girl, just- just take the tip.”

So hot and raw.

Because truthfully, Toji’s never let himself slip inside you without that stupid lil’ piece of rubber- and now that he wasn’t wearing one, it’s not like he couldn’t handle it - he swears! He’s just taking it nice n’ slow for your sake, watching just how your eyes roll cutely back at the curve of his mushroom head burrowing between your swollen folds.

Your mouth waters at the way his veiny tip was filling up your gooey walls, and you find yourself bucking up with a whine. “But why j-just the tip, Toji?”

His tone is rough. Rugged. “‘Just’ the tip if you want to be walking out of this bedroom, mama.”

He was ready to ruin you.

And that really doesn’t help because it only makes you arch your back with a carnal craving for more, more, more. Clenching-

“Fuh-fuck.” He’s spitting between clenched canines, nose crinkling with something that sounded like a growl before Toji’s teeth sink deeply into the junction at your neck. He’s muffling out his gravelly lil’ whimper at the way your walls were tuggin’ him even deeper inside.

Repeating to himself- his head was spinning. “Just- just the fuckin’ tip- ngh- s’all you get. Just the tip-”

Jittery legs wrapping around his slender hips, you dig your heels into the base of his spine to hold him hostage. “But I want more than jus’ the tip—”

Gasping, “Oh. Yer killing me, doll-” With a hiss, he’s shoving two bulbous ends of his fingers past your drooling maw to shut you up. And then stuffing your other pair of lips with just a few more solid inches of his ravaging cock, so big.

So thick that the pure circumference makes you want to scream. His fat, strawberry-colored crown wedging sloppily against one of your sweetest spots, “K-killing me- fucking killin’ me-”

Cockdrunken smile on your face, you’re bowing upwards with your lewd pussy to let his veiny shaft pry your walls apart even deeper-

And that makes something inside of him burst. “N-no–”

CRACK!

Toji’s slamming his open palm down on your wooden headboard enough to make it splinter - dark brows furrowed in restraint, temple beading with sweat, he digs his capped knees into the mattress and drills out a solid, feral thrust.

“Oh god-” A mistake. Because just one taste of your hot, saccharine pussy and he’s shuddering viscerally, beefy biceps flexing above you as Toji holds onto the bedframe for dear life and attempts to pull back. “No- no no I-”

Toji snakes his other calloused hand down like he means to guide his bulky hilt back- before thinking better of it and giving your saturated cunt a good spank. Gruffly grouching out, “Any deeper and I won’t be able ta- haaah- pull out.”

As if to prove what he’s babbling out, Toji’s rolling his v-line back expertly. And your cunt’s rubbed all raw with the ravenous drag of his hips, the way his dark happy trail was massaging your clit.

It’s just so mean- but if you asked him, he’d have prattled out that you were being meaner with your sopping wet pussy. The way you have the audacity to pout as he’s shallowly driving his fleshy tip inside you, swiping teasingly down your outer cunt with his vein-covered underside.

Gritting his teeth, shuddering, trying for all the world not to let a voice crack seep into his meaningful words, “Any deeper and yer getting pregnant, mama.”

“N-nghhh fuck—” You’re swervin’ your hips restlessly at each clammy slap after slap of his swole pelvis. The way he was just so lengthy, he’s easily probing a good bruise into each of your favorite spots and you can feel your poor body twitch- “Maybe I don’t mind.”

“Easy. E-easy there, girl. No talkin’ out of that ngh- pretty pussy, m’kay?” Toji’s trying to curl his scarred lips up into something that looks like his usual sleazy smirk but you can see through your bleary pupils just how much his maw quivers.

The buttony curve of his thumb glissades down your wet slit, “You just hafta take it-” Breathless, he’s stuffin’ you like a madman with just his bulging tip. Swabbing your pussylips so-very-open, “Hafta take- take it all.”

Oh.

And the big, bad Toji Fushiguro almost falters - almost gasps. That pussydrunk little slip-up making his weepy cock jolt in interest, n’ he’s seeing that hungry look in your eyes and oh-

Sputtering, the repeated thrashes of his length only grow harder as if to fuck the prior few seconds right out of you. A tendon in his neck popping at the swirling circles he was pounding your eyes into, “I mean- fuck…I meant take all of my tip, doll, don’t-”

“Mhm…” You’re batting your lashes in subtle victory, a primal shrill ripping from your throat at the way Toji then plunges his slick-glazed fingers out of your mouth. “All of it?”

Rovering straightly down to push on the puffy cylindrical outline of his cock rummaging inside of you, “Sh-shut up.” Resting his weight just on your hips to let his bawling tip pinpoint your g-spot, feeling you squeeze-squeeze-squeeze. And fuck- he presses down on that tummy bulge, already knowing he was in trouble. “This…this is still just the hah- tip.”

“It is?”

Thumbing apart your puffy lips, smearin’ them with a lecherous sluuurp. Toji can’t stop the drawling groan that escapes his mouth as he watches your bawling hole take in even more of him.

“Fuck yeah, just the tip. Just- just four…” And then he’s swiping across your treacly cunt so that he can shove his thick thumb in, fingering your elastic entrance enough to slurp up more of his plumpened cock. “No- five inches past the tip.”

You’re thrashing your limp body, “P-please-” His size felt simply heavy between your sheeny thighs, reaching a hand of yours up. “Hck! Toji, oh my god you’re-”

Oh, before you know it, before you can even register, he’s lugging up his rude right knee to pin down your wrist onto the dampened mattress. Pulling you to him- “Don’t you fucking-” Hard. “-run now.”

And you can hardly even flinch when Toji’s got you manhandled into such a pliant position, throwing your legs on top of his shoulders to bend doooown as the cherry on top.

A mating press.

A mating press that renders your brain stupidly mushy, a throaty hiccup leaving your mouth when you swear you’re feeling the dull thud! of his red, split-ended tip scrape all the way to your cervix. His heavy balls meeting the target of your pussy with a stinging smack, Toji finds himself grinning.

Fuck- he doesn’t even know how he got here.

Your rickety headboard already shattered, meaty thighs twitching against yours, cock buried balls-deep.

And now Toji’s no longer holding himself back, drawing out a cute lil’ cross on the area just above your womb. Just where his thick, heated cock was throbbing as he’s bottomed-out and still rutting himself deeper and deeper.

“X marks the spot now, mama.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - The overstimulator

“Fuck- ngh, fuuuuck, Kento.” Your body thrashes where Nanami’s fucking his thick, lengthy fingers into your core.

Swabbing straight down the textured insides of your pussy, he’s nudgin’ your g-spot with his cold, cold wedding ring just to hear your cute moans pitch even higher. Panting, “You’ve got this- haaah- you’ve got it. Cum f’me, my love.”

And you can only babble out a few broken sobs in response, bucking through your nth high of the night and feeling your pussy still ache for his cock.

It’d been a few hours since your husband had come back from a long day at work - stern, rugged. And times like this, you knew it meant that he’d had a stressful day, times like this it meant you were casually slithering your hands to caress the fat, throbbing length between his sculpted legs.

Mumbling out needily, “Want- hck! want this, Kento.”

And he’s gasping, he’s heady.

Rubbing vertically down the line of your slit with his geysering tip, so wet that it’s letting off such a loud squelch. “But what if I’m too…” Rough. After all, he did have such a looong day today.

“Please?”

The thin lines of his lips part, “Oh, how can I ever say ‘no’ to my wife?” Pecking you softly near your temple, but the way that Nanami’s tannish-red crown twitches where it lay across your thighs told you a wholly different story.

Flipping you over to ride him, he’s easily letting gravity sink in the nub of his cockhead just past your folds, feeling his exerted breath hitch at the way your sappy walls were clenching. “Come on-” Muttering, you blink your hazy vision down just in time for him to hold up a strong, veiny forearm for you. “Come on come on- bite on it, darlin’ let me-”

Fit.

Even if it was just the tip, it was such a tight fit - and Nanami’s fingerpads drift down to your waist to squeeeeze. Bruising. Ravaging.

The only thing you can do is muffle your whimpers into the heated skin of his arm and take it.

He’s fucking himself into you with a strangled moan, in short, rapid half-thrusts like he’s torturously holding himself back. “J-just a bit more-” The fatness of his tip squeezes past your hole with a wet plop! and he hisses, “There…there we go.”

The circumference of his girth lodges between the first ring of your entrance and makes you keen—“N-ngh- You can put in some more.”

And Nanami groans like he’s geering up for a thorough thrust - before hunching his heavy body over and waiting. And letting the slippery globe of his cockhead slide-slide-slide across the roof of your pussy, “Do you…know what that would hah-” His cock throbs. “-mean, darling?”

Tantalizingly, you’re wriggling your pretty waist further down, trying to get his glazing tip to scope your deepest innards. “Please, Kento?”

“Fuh-fine…”

“Oh?”

“Fine- Why don’t we ask hah- her first, my love…” And you swear you’re seeing his lips flap away a thin line of drool, swivelling his blond head up to face your glistening pussy. Lovingly, Nanami glissades his damp thumb down your slope and coos—“How about it- think you can take-” Another coo, another rut- “-it all?”

“Fuh-fuck! Yes-”

But it’s not you he’s answering to - it’s the lecherous, loud slurp that emanates straight from your cunt.

Nose crinkling in amusement, “Don’t talk to me in ngh- that tone. S’gonna make me want to…”

And you don’t have to beg for the tail end of that sentence - because Nanami’s planting his feet firmly flat on the surface of your bed and giving you a solid drilling.

“Fuck.” Lengthy shaft grazing your insides, Nanami feels the way your gushing pussy clamps down on him and it’s enough to make him shudder. To make him furrow his brows, breath evaporating, tensing his core- “To…more…” Deep baritone now so airy that you can barely even make out what he’s prattling-

“Yes-” Your head spins at the complete n’ utter stretch of having him sensually probe your cunt open, hips turning in a lewd figure-eight. “Yes yes yes yes- just like that-”

“If you want it all then you fucking beg for it.”

Was this really your gentle, endearing husband?

You can’t even fathom the sensual man that’s clinging onto a good chunk of your left ass cheek, using his practised strength to tug you right down onto his cock.

To take control after each spank of his hips- “Better learn how to ask n-nicely-” He’s spitting at your cunt now, tone reaching octaves higher. Shattering. “Couldn’t stop thinking about this pussy all fucking day and- ngh! and I tried to be nice. Tried to make it easy, my love, but you make me sooo…”

“S-so wh- fuck!”

You’re cut off with a sudden, slamming crash of his v-line against your thighs- so sudden, so rough that it makes him gasp, too.

Eyeing the way he’d left his own clammy skin all red and raw with friction, the way the melty insides of your pussy felt bruised all ‘round his size. “Fuck- didn’t mean to-” And he’s motioning himself to pull out, but the only thing he’s doing is sloppily draaagging his cock down the lining of your pussy and making himself buck.

Battling against his senses.

Pounding up and up and up-

“W-wasn’t supposed to go in this deep- oh-” Groaning at the sight of your slick-glazed folds slipping n’ sliding down his pulsating length. “Was supposed to be just- just the tip-” Nanami pushes his foggy glasses further up his handsome nose bridge for a much better look. Scrambling, “Was supposed to hold back and…”

At his trailing off, you’re forcing your voice out evenly. Gripping purchase onto his broad shoulders, “Are you okay, Ken–?”

“Of course, my love, I’m fine- I’m-” And yet, the only thing he can do is let his mouth hang filthily ajar as he perks his hips off the mattress to give your cunt one good pummel.

All the way from tip to base this time. Until he’s buried oh-so-deeply inside of your wet pussy that it’s making you drool, that it’s making you whine, making the back of your throat sting with sobs at the sheer raw stretch.

And he groans, “M’soooo not fucking okay, my love.” Molted gaze dead locked on you- “And you won’t be either after this.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - The mean.

The silver, studded circle of Geto’s tongue piercing draaaags sloppily down your cheek. Lapping up every salty bead of tears you were cryin’ out, “Why- please. Want more, Suguru—”

“More?” His raven lashes flutter in faux shock, and it’s so-very-agonizing once he’s tugging his teasing cock out of your hole even further.

Just enough that he’s stirrin’ your entrance with the line of his slit, pumping in a lazy back and forth. “You want more here, gorgeous?” He’s panting, licking up the glittering ribbons of saliva that fall out of you with each scrape across the roof of your pussy. “Or here? Orrr—” Each lecherous motion. Making such a big show of twisting his free thumb down to press on your clit, “-here?”

“N-nooo–” Mewling, your mouth drops into the cutest pout as you’re bucking your hips up. Trying to close your trembly legs over his muscular hips, “I want you here.”

“Where?”

You’re damn near sobbing, “Here- oh, fuck!”

“Oh no, I lost track-” The rosy fringes of his mouth quirk up into such a mean smile- and before you know it, Geto’s pushing you into a pliable mating press n’ fucking you with just the pretty, red-hot crown of his tip.

Over and over.

Grabbing onto your tits with one hand, pinning your hips down with the other. Grumbling, “Seems this ngh- cute cunt had me a little…distracted, gorgeous. Where? Say that alllll over again where you want me?”

You feel your ragged throat rip out with a desperate cry - a plea.

His steaming hot cock was only twitching with each cockdrunken blabber you could let out. Rovering your insides with direct hits just below where your sweet spots were, Geto leaves you wanting more without even trying.

And the only thing you can do is tug on his broad shoulders with the heels of your feet, just begging for him to go deeper than just drilling into you with his thick, mushroomy tip.

“Hm? ‘Thick’, is it?” Fuck- only too-late are you realizing that you’ve babbled that out loud. Driven crazy by the mouth-watering gyration of his cockhead burrowing between your folds. Stirrin’ you all over.

Geto leans over until his inky hair forms a curtain around you two, mouth prattling away with the smuggest smirk permanently plastered across his maw. “If it’s soooo thick I wonder how you’re gonna- hah- take it then.”

“I-I will-”

“Not you, gorgeous.” He wasn’t even talking to you. He’s talking to your puffy, pert pussy - letting your cunt paint such a mess of slick drivelling all over his length. “Wonder if she would- hah- fit- let me see-” Making an even bigger mess just by snaking down one hand to smear open your folds with his ringed fingers. “Open up wide, say ‘ah’—”

Almost on cue, your oversaturated cunt lets out the most filthy squeeelch by the time he’s fitting in his lengthy middle finger, the chilling band of his ring pushin’ deftly against your walls.

“Hmpf- tha’s more than an ‘ah’.” Geto titters from above you, and the way he’s stroking your elastic entrance open is just so mean. Deliberately scouring for where his plummy tip was hitting you in hard strikes, swabbing you into each n’ every spot to open you wiiiide open for his cock.

“Sh-shit-” You’re gasping, eyesight shattering with a few more of your pearly tears. “You’re actually going past the- ngh- tip, Sugu?”

Gruffly, “Wan’ me to pull out, gorgeous–?”

“N-no!”

“Thought it was about time to reward my hah- good girl.” He’s spitting out smoothly - but you can feel the way that Geto’s heavy cock was flinching with each rovering inch you’re swallowing up.

The way his high cheekbones flushed with a stain of rouge, the way he’s gritting his ivory white teeth and rutting. Like he can’t even hold himself back the way he wanted to.

Like he can’t stop himself from gluing a thigh to the side of your hips and lifting his weight to push down on top of yours.

To pin you down. To make sure that his prolonged, throbbing length reaches spots oh-so-deep. Geto’s plunging the weepy divot of his shaft straight into your g-spot and there’s nothing you can do about it but sing out a few whines–“There- there- s’what you were begging for, right?”

And he’s doing this because your needy pussy had been asking for it. He’s doing this because of you - and not because of the way his cock ached every split-second he wasn’t inside you.

No- definitely not because he’s shuddering. Panting.

Dampened voice almost breaking with a whimper once your gooey wet walls clamp down ‘round him, “Riiight?” He drawls out, sounding almost maddened, way past ‘just the tip’ right now.

“Y-yes- ngh, yes.” You hiccup out after every slash of his swabbing cockhead splitting your insides, he was just so long that the rigid length of his cock damn near reaches your lungs. Tugging him close with a hand on Geto’s firm chest. “B-but I want…”

“What?��

You blink your teary lashes up at him in a way that’s devastating, “Want it inside inside, too, Sugu.”

Oh.

Inside inside - you wanted him to stuff you so full your poor hole couldn’t even remember what it felt like without him dripping out of you.

You were going to be the fucking death of him. Geto could feel it.

Geto knew it - ‘just’ the tip his ass - he’s hunching over your restless body with an animalistic growl. Bottomed-out so deeply that the nub of his shaft digs into your cervix, his balls thwacking against your cunt, pre pouring out in a froth.

So hot n’ wet- it’s making his amethyst irises flash with the carnal desire for your sopping wet pussy to be filled up with something else.

“Oh.” Pumping his ringed index inside with a wettened noise, Geto fills the corners of his lips twitch in sensual amusement as he watches the glaze drip off of him. Snaking it up to lick off every ounce of your beaded sheen of slick, “Say ‘ah’ then, gorgeous.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “P-pussydrunk-”

It’s the first thing that’s slipping out of Choso’s mouth the very second he finds his red, bulging tip poking through your puffy pussylips.

Dark chocolate eyes flashing with a thin sheen of tears, “I-I’m so pussydrunk-” He’s admitting to you out loud, head throwing backwards once he’s softly bucking his toned hips back n’ forth. “How am I- nghhh- pussydrunk already, baby?”

“Mm– I dunno, Cho.” A rhetorical question, but you’re answering anyway - mainly because the mere sound of your voice is enough to make your boyfriend’s aching cock twitch deliciously inside of you. “S’just the tip, too, right?”

Panting breathlessly, “Yeah- yeah, just the…”

“Tip—?”

“Fuck! But just don’t say it like that-” Keening out in a ragged voice that makes him sound devastated. Ruined. “It makes it so, so hard to keep my hah- promise.”

Ah, yes - the promise that it would be just the tip.

You’d already found it so cute when he’d admitted that for his first time, all the way up to the tip was the only thing that he’d be able to handle. And you were more than happy to let Choso’s blushin’ cockhead shyly scrape past your hole, just tasting the saccharine feeling of your pussy.

But right now he was thumping his hips up into yours like he was anything but shy.

Like he was trying to mold himself to the rubbery texture of your sweet, sweet cunt. Over n’ over n’ over in stirring motions that slip his crowned shaft further past your fluttering entrance.

You’re gasping out a few slurring slews of swears at the fleshy rub of his flared ridge, scouring in easily even deeper- “Cho! Baby, what happened to just the tip?”

“O-oh right.” Dark brows furrowing in concentration, he pokes his tongue between his teeth and tries to get his hips back into his steady, rhythmic cadence. Back to “just” the tip bein’ swallowed up by you whole- “There. There, is that-”

And it was just as he promised - for all of six strokes before Choso’s plumped tip finds itself wedging back down your walls. “Choso.”

“S’not my ngh- fault, baby.” He’s whining out, grabbing onto one side of your ass cheeks to pin you close to him. And Choso was just so inhumanly strong that he was treatin’ you like his own personal doll, “Not when you say my name like that…”

Meaningfully, the apples of Choso’s cheeks scorch with a bright blush. Continuing to whisper out like his life depended on it, “And not when you’re just so, so preeetty.” Arching his slender hips in a slooow, aching swivel to reach a spot deepest inside of you, he’s feeling the way your gushing walls clench and it’s making his mahogany irises well up with tears. “A-and when you’re this- ngh- wet-”

“Are you blaming me, Cho?” You’re teasing- only to have your big, strong boyfriend whimper.

“No-” And the precise moment your hips buck into his, he’s grabbing ahold of you - clawing down the sides of your restless body, crushing your front to his washboard abs. “No no no-”

Choso’s stopping your non-existent escape in an instant, pulling you back with an uncharacteristically mean hand at your throat. Just so pretty when he’s needy like this - temple trailing with a thin line of sweat, vision narrowed at you, rosy mouth babbling. “Never blaming you- never- fuck- I actually-” The tips of his ears flame oh-so-red, “-like it…wet.”

“O-oh.”

And he’s fucking into you like an animal - like he can’t even remember that pretty pink line of his tip he was supposed to stop at.

Honestly- if you asked Choso right now, his fuzzy mind genuinely wouldn’t have been able to remember.

“M’going in past the tip.” Your boyfriend puffs out, eyes widening cutely once his stupidly melted brain realizes. “I’m going in past it- ngh- a-actually reaching your pretty womb, baby—”

The only thing on his mind right now being the way your squelching cunt kissed his tender cock, the way he’s able to pry apart your walls and glue his bawling crown somewhere near the back of your cunt. “Y-you feel this, baby?”

And you don’t know whether he means the squeeze of his ringed fingers claiming your throat, or the feeling of his damn cock. “What do you—”

Or the way he nuzzles his tight, aching balls up against your sheeny inner-thighs, “Feel how badly I want you-” Strangling out a few moans, Choso thwacks his ridged cockhead against your g-spot and watches you squirm. “How hard I am, ngh-” And watches your velvety walls gush out in pearly beads of slick to surround his hilt, to make it easier for him to hike up a thigh and push himself even more, more, more. “How deep m’stuck inside? You hafta take hah- responsibility, okay?”

“R-responsibility?”

And Choso’s just so pussydrunk that he’s slobbering all down into the crook of your neck, manhandling your knees up until they’re striking your tits.

Ears oh-so-popped that he’s barely even registering your question - only the deep, dull thud! of his plump mushroom tip being lodged into the base of your cunt And then Choso sees white-

“Oh, s’dripping out of you.” He’s muttering to himself, all that dripping hot mess of his cum. Cumming - just from bottoming out. Line of sight sparking with ivory-hot pleasure, Choso’s voice shatters. “O-oh, m’cumming inside. Really, really inside?”

As if to make sure, you can only watch in sinful awe once he’s scooping up a generous layer of the frothy sap covering your cunt. Seemingly about to stuff his seed back in- before thinking better of it and thumbing out a swoopy ‘C’ between your swollen folds.

He’s tittering to himself as the creamy layer smears across and perfectly outlines his initial.

You can’t help but gasp, boneless thighs quaking with each splattering wad of cum that knotted up your insides. “‘C’? What does…”

Oh, but it wasn’t just a ‘C.’

With a dopey grin, Choso draws out a lingering ‘H’ then an ‘O’, ‘S’- before firmly pushin’ down on the button of your clit as he finishes off the final ‘O.’

“S’mine now, baby. And m’fuh-fucking pussydrunk.” There’s something so dark seeping into his tone that makes goosebumps skitter across your spent body.

And Choso Kamo stares at you dead-on, mouth salivating with each speckle of cum he feels spill out of you until he looked feral. Looked ruined once his hips are pulling back for a mean thrust, “So don’t blame me for whatever happens.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - The biiig stretch(es)

All three realms would quake the day that Ryomen Sukuna was caught off-guard by something - anything. As if there was a single person in existence that could- oh, fuck, he can feel his hands tremble where they’re sliding down the insides of your sheeny thighs.

Laying you out across his chiselled front in a full nelson, it felt like the room itself was spinning.

And the way you’re grindin’ yourself back down cutely onto his matching, bulbous tips makes the king bite back a gruff snicker. “Aww, look at those pretty human thighs shaking so much. Heh- think yer gonna swallow me whole before ya even know it.”

You’re whimpering, feeling the points of his dark black nails dig against the flesh of your legs. He’s stuffed you so full that it takes you a second to catch your breath from the sheer stretch, “I- I can-”

THWACK!

The only thing you’re getting is the mean swat of one of his hands slamming down onto your teary slope. Sukuna’s voice booming, “Nooo ya fucking can’t. You’re getting just the tips tonight, mama.”

“B-but Kuna-”

“B-b-but-” Another spank, and another teasing glide of his veiny lengths. Just enough past his swabbing cockheads to give you a mere taste of his veiny shafts, but not enough to satiate your drivelling, needy core.

There was something so addictive about the way that Sukuna could doubly pry your walls open, and the idea of his thick veins massaging your insides made your mouth water.

Something his multiple crimson eyes takes lecherous note of, a brow raising priggishly. “See?” And you don’t know what he even meant until a second of Sukuna’s clammy palms knocks your ajar mouth closed, holding back the slippery wads of spit from escaping. “Tch- can’t even keep spit inside- how are ya gonna take both my cocks, brat?”

“I can.” Perking your back into a perfect curve, Sukuna himself has to bite back a groooan once he’s bucking up into you. The mouth on his stomach salivating at the way your ass cheeks jiggle against his pelvis-

Deeper.

“Wan’ more-”

“You think you deserve more?”

And it’s not that he thinks you can’t handle it - well, maybe he didn’t want to split your poor pussy open so early in the night - but it was just so fun teasing you.

To watch the way your hazy eyes fluttered with tears, mouth falling into a cutesy pout. “But I want it…”

So irresistible that Sukuna can’t help but lurch his monstrous head over and plant a wad of spit straight between your kiss-swollen lips. “There.” Then finally your cunt. “There. See if you can keep that inside, mama.”

And before you can complain, he’s pumping out every remaining gust of air left in your lungs with a loooong drag of his twin cocks. Just once. Before meanly keeping it there, letting the fat circumferences of his tips throb-throb-throb against your cervix. “Happy—?”

With a stubborn mewl, you’re trekking your hands up to clasp onto his tattooed thighs below you. Nails digging into his clammy flesh as you’re trying to bounce your exerted hips backwards- “More.”

“Spoiled brat.”

And if this was anyone else - for anything else - the king would have made a fresh example for all to see what happens when one doesn’t follow his orders.

But this was you. And the more you’re trying to suck his solid, swollen inches up, the more he’s feeling a restless sort of instinct take over him. The more he’s feeling…feral.

Pre spurting out enough to drench your weepy slope, “Fine. Fuck.” One of his hands wraps around your throat, the other latches onto one side of your hips. Two more spread your trembly thighs widely agape- and before you can register a thing, before you can even breathe, Sukuna has his bulging cocks sinking inside your hole in one, fluid motion. “Fine.”

Hard.

Rough.

Repeatedly.

It’s so much. Enough to make you throw your lolling head back into his collarbones and squeal as you cum- mouth blabbing constantly, “I’m cumming- c-cumming? Ngh- Kuna-”

“Don’t even know when you’re cumming.” He’s rolling his eyes. All the while you’re just bucking and whining at the peaks of your high. “Training first…h-heh. Can’t blame me fer biiig stretch when ya asked for it- can you even say it? ‘Biiig stretch?’”

“B-big–” You’re seeing an utter white flash behind your closed eyelids, thighs twitching each time the lines of his veins aligned with your g-spot. “Big- nghhh stretch-”

“Hm, close enough, heh.”

Slow. Agonizing.

If you wanted more than just his tips, then you were going to get it.

But at his pace first - one that left your eyes pathetically criss-crossing with each lazy intrusion. That left your waist squirming for more, and Sukuna’s teeth gritting with the utter sensation of your velvety walls tuggin’ down on him.

Trying to milk him dry-

“M-milk you–?” You’re blinking up at him with those pretty, pretty eyes, and he swears he can feel your saccharinely wet pussy only grow wetter at those words slipping out.

So gone on the feeling of your cunt that he didn’t realize they were slipping out. Sukuna’s eyes widen, breath hitched n’ raw—“Well…”

If anyone else could see the soundless, almost shy Ryomen Sukuna right now then they’d simply drop into a faint.

Because you swear the pointed tips of his ears were slowly staining red, the slimy edges of his second mouth sleazily grinning behind you. Rovering the tip of his massive tongue down to glissade down your slit.

And somewhere near the base of your treacly cunt, the curve of his heavy balls twitch-

Sukuna’s picking up the speed of his vulgar strokes, just so your fuzzy mind won’t hear the crack in his deep baritone. “If ya don’t milk me dry then m’banishing you, mama.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - The ruined

“F-fuck- mmm, Taku-”

“What was that?” The breathy tone of Ino’s voice fans across your features - right where he’s keeping his forehead plastered to yours, lips pulled back into a feral grin. Voice octaves higher- “What was thaaat?”

And he’s rubbin’ the roughened end of one thumb between your pussy folds, trying to get you to let off those pretty noises once more.

But fuck-

Fuck.

The only thing he’s managing to do is make you throw your head back and clench your sloppy cunt ‘round his pinkish girth. “Fuck- oh.” The dewy wet walls of your channel are squeezing him so tight that he’s the one who whimpers out in need—“F-feels so good.”

Rovering the globular crown of his shaft to knock against your pussy repeatedly, Ino swipes a buttery line of pre down the sides of your walls and moans once he feels you overspilling with slick.

The measurement of his puffy length so long that your folds struggle to take him all in, “Awww, sweetness, look at you.” Grinning, “Look so pretty takin’ just my hah- tip.”

He squeezes the pulpy top of your clit, tawny bangs falling over those greedy eyes of his. He’s locked his dilated pupils on you, and the way that Ino was pounding you into the mattress was restless.

Short, jerky thrusts of his hips - he’s so messy with it, just barely teasing your hole with the fatness of his girth on one stroke, pushing all the way past his tip in the next-

“Just the tip, remember?” Huffing out a slight cloud of laughter at the crestfallen look on his face, you’re echoing his own words from just before.

And Ino feels his cock twitch animalistically inside of you at the mention of those very words, “F-fine.” Grumbling, as if he wasn’t the one that decided he wanted to agonize your poor pussy tonight. With aching, shallow strokes that rub the flare of his ridge against your hole. “Just the tip- just the- oh, fuck.”

“Didn’t do anything—” You’re keening out, knowing fully that the slight grinding gyrations of your hips were enough to drive Ino mad.

His half-lidded eyes follow the movements of your waist in circles. “S-stop squirming.” And before you know it, he’s got a hand clinging to your neck. Blocking off your breezy airway, he holds you still and wedges the plumpness of his tip inside your cunt, sensually. “You know what you’re doing, pretty.”

“Fuck- nghhh-” You find yourself bawling out, lips twitching into a smile despite yourself at just how hypnotized your beloved boyfriend was. “But you’re the one putting it- ngh- even more.”

“Th-that’s not…” Ino flushes, and instead of answering directly he’s planting a wet thwack! of his cockhead to glue against the tender insides near your g-spot.

You’re feeling the calloused end of his thumb smear apart your bloated folds and the friction was incredible. As if to confirm for himself, he swipes away the mess on top of your slope to watch how your hole quivers with each slip n’ slide of his tip.

Torturing himself just as much as he planned to torture you.

Just about to prattle something pussydrunken - maybe how it was actually your pussy that’s making him stuff in even more of his cock. Maybe how you were actually begging him-

But no. Oh, Ino sees the pornographic struggle of your tight rim aching to swallow him all up and gasps.

Instantly jolting his head up as if he’d just been electrocuted, instantly clawing at the matted strands of his hair before realizing that he didn’t have his ski mask on to hide away.

To stop himself from looking down again n’ again. To stop himself from replaying that exact scene inside his melted mind as he’s mindlessly pushing you into a mating press, “O-oh…just let me-” Swallowing, Ino’s words ring hollow even to his own ears. “Let me just…”

Trailing off, the only thing you can do is yelp at the complete n’ utter stretch.

The way he was ruining you on his sopping wet cock, mazing in the point of his tip until he presses a firm smooch to your g-spot. Your cervix. “Oh my god- mm-” You tilt your head up in amusement, squeezing his throbbing cock on purpose. “Wha’s that about just the ngh- tip, Taku?”

“Yeah, about that—” With a slight pout, Ino stares you dead in the eyes as he’s scouring his mushy cockhead past your hole. Letting that circular lil’ divot press deep, deep, deep- “Forget I ever said that, sweetness.”

You’re cracking a smug grin, mouth opening to gloat-

SMACK!

Before weak, trembling fingerpads harshly slap the side of your waist, “T-tch you’ve already got me- ngh- ruined- what more could you want?” Sleek brows furrowed, he’s looking at you like he’s begging. “And m’not losing it- I’m just…just—”

Just wrenching off the hand holding your throat to guide your own hand, of course - right up to squeeze his own neck. To make you choke him.

Ino gnaws down on his plump lower lip to keep himself from whimpering once he’s letting his cock wreak havoc on your cute innards. Scouring and scouring deeply, just smushing the velvety end of his pre-glazed tip on your cervix.

Safe n’ sound. All snugly inside.

He babbles, “D’you want me to beg, pretty?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - The Strongest.

“C’mon- again.” Gojo’s raspy tone trembles, gnawing down sensually on the shell of your ear from behind. “Again. Promise it’ll be just the tip this time. Just the- haaah-”

And he can’t even finish his sentence - doesn’t have the ability to. The sanity.

The patience to just sit there and fuck you with the curve of his mushroomy tip- to not just pump n’ pump out masterful strokes that have your silvery slit splattering out in ribbons of white.

To him, it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

His large, bulbous tip twitches where he’s taking you in a mean doggy position - throwing his fuzzy head back with a moan the very second he feels sappy ivory cum slip down into a frothy ring ‘round his hilt, “I said m’sorry, sweetheart. This time I ngh- promise s’just the tip.”

“B-but you said that ngh- four rounds ago.” You’re whimpering into your splotchy pillow, saliva seeping from your maw like an open faucet.

Gojo rounds his lengthy fingertips down past your soaked panties and feels the leaky line of your slit, “But my sweetheart.” Cooing, every tiny pummel of his cockhead had your toes curling in pleasure, hands fisting at your damp sheets. “My girl. My wife-”

The cum-glazed fingers of his fingerpads break off from your pussy with a squelch, instantly being pushed between his plump lips.

And Gojo doesn’t feel even an ounce of hesitation as he suuuucks—tasting himself, tasting you. The wet pants of his breath are sweltering down your arched back, “Mm– the love of my life.”

He was just gone.

Six Eyes working overtime without him even realizing- he’s seeing the sparks of arousal that light your veins and lets himself grin. Giving your treacly cunt another easy slide of his shaft, “Does that mean I can stuff ya nghh- full again, my girl?”

Your husband swabs the rubbery insides of your pussy with his probing cock, and he was just so thickly swollen that the circumference of his tip leaves your walls damn near indented.

Knees shaking weakly on top of your creaky bedsprings- “I-I didn’t say that, Satoru-” He almost flinches at your words, before the mere sound of your voice makes the bawling orifice on top of his length splurge out pre. Bucking your hips gingerly backwards, “You won’t ngh- keep it just the tip I know it.”

“But sweetheart—” Your cunt was still so sensitive, and just the slightest graze of his prominent veins leaves your lips all wobbly. “This pretty pussy’s just haaah- beeegging f’me. Look at her-” Your head perks up in shock at the sound of Gojo Satoru giggling, “Look-”

At the sound of him smiling dopily, letting his ravenous cock fuck your hole open until you were stupid.

He’s relentless - just lingering, sloppy slashes of his hot tip protruding your wet insides. And juuuust when he could see your brows furrowing, mouth falling into a cute pout at the realization that he was way past the tip- he’s pulling back.

“Wh-whoops.” Gojo flicks his dexterous index down to toy with your poor clit, tutting. “Naughty girl, oh- you’re sucking me in past the tip.”

You’re grumbling, “M-me?”

“Not you, my sweetheart…” The way his thumb rubs your pussylips open is enough to make you see stars, and Gojo pushes his fleshy thighs up against yours. “-m’talking to her.” The perfect excuse- he’s lecturing your dripping wet pussy, reeling your cute hips back until the slope of his cockhead nuzzles allll the way near your g-spot. “Tch, how daaaare you take in more than the- ngh- tip, h-heh.”

And you swear you’re feeling Gojo’s reddened skin buzz with slight cursed energy as he laughs at his own joke.

“You’re doing it, sweetheart, y-you…” Trailing off, your entire body feels like it’s been shocked in the most sinful way as Gojo thumps his strawberry divot on the target of your favorite spot.

And soon enough, he can’t even bring himself to tease you.

Soon enough, he’s incredibly past the pinkish line of his slit marking the end of his tip. With the veiny underside of Gojo’s shaft stuffed deeply between your folds, again n’ again he spanks your g-spot wetly.

You’re shivering, mentally counting that he’s now nearly bottomed-out—so fully that the cobwebs of his cum from hours prior splosh around inside of you. “T-Toru– oh!”

Only for your plea to be cut off, for your entire body to hit back against his toned pelvis with a resounding pap! He’d hauled you backwards by the flimsy fabric of your panties and it was making you moan, “Say that again-”

“Wh-what?”

“Say it.” Repeating, Gojo’s now fucking you like he hated you. Like he couldn’t stand a single split-second that your perfect pussy wasn’t filled up by him. Licking up the droplets of tears that trickle down your cheeks, “Say it again- ngh- say- fuck.”

The bottom of your stomach stinging with that familar twitch, you find yourself shrilling out- “Toru- fuck fuck fuck- Toru, I’m…”

Close.

But he could already tell.

His Six Eyes already knew- and he wasn’t even trying to activate that gift of his. Barely even has to to feel the squelching squeeze of your sappy pussy, the way you’re jolting after each forceful thwack! of his cock pummeling into your ready cunt.

Gojo’s fingertips pinch ‘round your cutely swollen clit, and he finds himself drawing his fucking name right on top. A nice, neat S-A-T-O-R-U that makes your head spin, “Y’know who my- faaaaat- fuckin’ cock belongs to, sweetheart?”

You babble–“Wh-what?”

But Gojo doesn’t mind that you didn’t answer, he doesn’t mind - he barely even registers it. So far gone that he’s nodding along to the lewd slurps and squelches given off by your treacly cunt, “You.” Chuckling, hitching, rutting—“You you you- all yours.”

The sculptured lines of the strongests’ hip bones pull back ever-so-slightly- only to come pressurizing back with a final, hard drilling thrust. “So it only makes sense that you’re gonna take it allll, right~?”

Every inch, and every splattering wad of cum he’s emptying out.

You’re hit with the waves of your own high, legs giving out underneath you until Gojo wraps an arm underneath your front and pulls you up. Plastering you against the slick, glissading curves of his abs- “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck- nghhh- m’cumming.”

“I know.”

Clawing down the clammy flesh of his forearms, your head lolls back against Gojo’s collarbone with every squirt of frothy white cum he was stuffin’ into you. Eyeing down those cute lil’ beads of sap that glue your inner thighs together, “A-and you’re in so deep- fuck, Toru!”

“I know- heh.”

Gojo made sure to pound you through every single peak of your high, right where it made your body erupt in the most bliss- as if he had a sixth sense.

And he’s making sure to let the sticky ring of slick n’ seed drench his happy trail, cock fucking those thick dollops of cum inside until you’re seeing white. Until you can feel nothing but the way his bulging tip reaches up to your cervix and throbs—“Promise it’ll be heh- just the tip this time, my girl.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - The lawyer?!

“Just the tip hck! remember?”

“You say just the tip but…” Your husband tilts his head down at you with the most lecherous grin, fat thumb lazing between your pussylips to spread your hole wiiide open for him. His other hand was busy still tugging off his work tie, barely home from the office and hungry. “-this pretty pussy’s saying otherwise, angel—”

And oh- he was right.

But Higuruma had been working overtime for months just for an upcoming trial early tomorrow, and you knew if you let him slip in anything past the tip then it would end in another type of all-nighter.

You’re softly smacking his broad deltoid, and he’s only lifting your flimsy nightgown with a chuckle. “Ah ah- don’t shoot the messenger now. M’just hear to do as my wife asks, sugar.”

Easily slap-slap-slapping his red, bulbous tip to slip n’ slide past your first ring of muscle. Higuruma croons at the way your legs fall instantly open for him once his throbbing cock siiinks in, enveloping his bulged tip.

The sensation is enough to make his stern lips fall open with a sigh–“And right now- fuck- she’s telling me she wants a lil’ more.”

Filling you up with just a few inches up to his ridged crown, the line of his slit scrapes the roof of your pussy and you have to force yourself to speak over the loud sluuurp. “I-I’m not falling for that- ngh, Hiromi.”

And oh- that makes him pant.

That makes him shudder, that makes his jaw tick with a slightly feral twitch. Squeezing in the slimy end of his hot cock until you’re seeing stars, “Oh- say that again, angel.”

“Hiro-”

“Louder.”

“Hiromi.”

And that makes him dig his knees deeper into the springy mattress and rut-

“Fuh-fuck.” Like some fucking animal. He’s gritting through snarled teeth, that bitter sting the only thing keeping him from fully plunging his rotund crown inside of you and fucking you stupid already.

Higuruma throws his head back, usually-groomed raven locks falling over his line of sight. He’s as unruly as he can be and fucking you just as much, letting the curve of his tip thump and thump your walls repeatedly.

“Yeah- yeahhh there we go.” You’re flinching once you feel the knobbly pads of his fingers reach for your pulsing clit and pinch. Mean. Tugging. Letting you scream yourself hoarse every time his pre-glazed tip juuust skids down your walls, “Better say my name hah- louder, sugar- can’t hear you over that cute cunt begging for more.”

You’re whining, “Ngh- f-fuck you—”

“You are, my wife.”

And it’s just agonizing - Higuruma knew how to time his jackhammers just right so that he’s never fully scraping your textured g-spot. Never fully past his drooling slit - and it was driving you wild.

Driving your hips upwards with two hands thrown ‘round his clammy neck, your fingers disappear into the depths of his dark tresses and make him sigh. With you mewling, “N’ what if I hck-” Fuck, he’s swervin’ his creamy cock over to slash oh-so-close against your g-spot. Making your lips wobble prettily, “-what if I said I wanted more now?”

Fuck.

A killshot - enough to make the bottom of your pussy seep through with a gooey pool of his precum.

And Higuruma likes to think he’s all sensible, he likes to think he can handle it- until his damn baritone voice cracks just as soon as he’s trying to sound stern for you. “M-maybe I won’t listen then- since you haaaah- wanted just the tip so badly. Won’t give you the rest of my cock until you’re acting proper, angel.”

“Really, Hiro–?”

“N-no.”

So gone on your pussy that the lawyer can’t help but tell you the truth.

Oh, you’ve broken him.

And the only thing that tough, uptight Higuruma Hiromi can do is wedge his feet into your ancient bedsprings and slam a mean kiss against your cervix.

The spheroid of his cockhead slaps the base of your pussy, and his palm slaps the top. “You-” Talking to your fucking pussy, “-just like her, sweet thing. Gonna make me fucking—lose it.” You’re speechless with utter cockdrunken need whilst Higuruma pounds away his honed inches.

No rhythm. No method. Maddened.

Targeting the thrumming area of your g-spot, slipping in a zig-zagging line straight down to strike the door to your womb.

Feeling so good that his flinching orifice splurts out a few beads of heated white- cumming early, just from how long you’d been teasing him with that damned ‘just the tip.’

“Fuck-” Your hips buck upwards to chase what you’ve been yearning for for so long, thighs shaky with every needy web of seed slithering between your pussylips. “Yes- right there mm, feels so fucking full, Hiro–”

“Yeah? This what you wanted for so long, sugar—?” Cooing, Higuruma gives your slick-glossed cunt another sweet spank to get you squelching from between your legs once more. Just flooding the sticky sheets with all your sap every time he’s planting such sloppy drags of his cock, just so hot. So stuffed. The creamy knots of his cum stick to your thighs like adhesive, “If you wanted me to fuck you stupid so- hah- so badly then you should’ve just asked, y’know?”

Blubbering through your tears of bliss, you whimper once he’s catching your lips in a ravenous kiss. “B-but you have that trail so early in the morning tomorrow n’ you need ngh- sleep.”

“Well then-” Ah, his grin answering is feral– and you suddenly get the feeling that you won’t be making it to tomorrow walking - or alive. “-better cum f’me eight times before tomorrow morning, angel.”

A/N. CUZ YA KILLIN’ IT GIRL-

Plagiarism not authorized.

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rawme-price · 1 day ago

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Price and his spouse, where price has johnny crash at his place bc of weather conditions or smth meaning johnny cant go to his own place, right?

Well ur chatting with this adorable little scotman in the living room, listening to price hum about the kitchen cooking dinner. All you can think is about how good he would look under ur husband, whether he would put up a fight or submit willingly. Hes already sat on the same couch as you, so its not hard to hook a socked ankle over his shin. You drag it up, just slightly, enough to be suggestive. "So, johnny, you seeing anyone? Got someone special?" Not subtle at all.

"Nah, but you do." He frowns, reaching down to unhook ur leg. Awe, thats sweet, he cares about his captains and ur relationship. You smile, leaning in a bit "its okay, honey, john doesnt mind."

Johnny is about to protest again, convinced ur lying because there's no way price isnt a posessive man, right? Except at that very moment price walks in to call you both for dinner. He sees the look in your eyes, the way you've closed the gap between urself and Johnny, then turns his gaze to the sargeant.

Price makes a show of giving johnny a once over, arms crossed. Finally, he raises his brow with an approving grunt, leans down to kiss ur cheek. "Alright. You've got good tastes, dear. But first, dinner."

Its the most tense and emotionally confusing dinner soaps ever had. His captain and said captains spouse both looking at him hungrily. Once everyone's plates are empty —damn, price can cook— you raise a brow at Johnny and he silently nods, so you announce to the table "Alright, im gonna get the bedroom setup. Johnny, be a good boy and help with dishes."

While Johnny does the dishes with price he actually gets a very comforting chat abt how price really would love to, but Johnny can back out at anytime. Except now that he has permission there is no way johnny is passing up getting to sleep with the hottest couple he knows. Thus johnny gets the best fucking night of his life.

Hes blissed out and mewling as price fucks him into the mattress, head between ur thighs. Its amazing, better than he could have dreamed. By the end hes stuffed full of cum, face wet with tears and sweat and legs feeling like jelly. The best part? After cleaning up he gets to sleep sandwiched between u two, price pressed along his back and you at his front. You and price share a sappy little kiss above him, then plant one on either side of his cheek.

Hm. Maybe he should stay over more often.

#ty anon who pointed out the lack of price x soap #cod #cod smut #johnny soap mactavish x reader #captain john price x reader #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #soap smut #price smut #soap x price #price x soap

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days ago

Note

How would the Saja boys react to Nonchalant Manager! Reader going on a date with someone for the night?

The second the words 'I've got a date tonight' left your lips when Romance had asked why you were getting all dressed up for, wondering if they had missed an important date, made the air leave their lungs as a plethora of emotions was brought to the surface.

Mystery wanted more then anything then to hunt this person down, not liking the idea of having to be forced to share your attention with anyone that was outside the group, growling and just showing hostility at this secret date that you were going on.

He would cling to you like glue, not letting you leave his sight for a single second as you got yourself ready, even going so far to make whiny noises from the back of his throat the closer it got to you leaving for your date. He's pratically beggin you to stay with him and ditch your date, filled with this idea that you shouldn't be anywhere but with him and the group.

He might as well be waiting at the door for you at this point, he's loyal to a fault.

Baby acts like he's not listening or showing any interest- head down in his notebook- but he's listening and he's not liking what he's hearing in the slightest, the lollipop half hanging out of his mouth didn't taste as sweet anymore upon hearing this news. Not that you didn't deserve to go on a date, just not with random off of the street that you might've bumped into by pure accident and felt obligated to go on a date with.

He would want to make up excuses that he nedded a secondary opinions on his verse within the song they were working on, needing you to go over pages upon pages of lyrics he had written off of the top of his head to keep on theme with the rest of the song. He would do anything to withhold you from going on that date, but all attempts were siwftly brushed aside as if you could see through them all.

It left Baby feeling a little stroppy as he's forced to wait for you to come back from your date as a unsettiling feeling developed within his stomach, not liking the overall feel of your date in the first place and waiting to be proven right.

Romance never felt as though he had to force a smile towards you, never becuase each and every smile he gave you was genuine. Yet the idea that you were going on a date with this mysterious person didn't sit right with him, and knew it didn't sit right with the others either from what he could tell by quickly glancing at them.

He'd at first try to be happy for you and your dare, but that would be lying to himself, and soon enough he'd drop the act and will try to make you see reason. He didn't like the idea of you on a date with someone else when your perfect partner was standing right infront of you; Him!

He would then try to entice you into staying with him in the apartment, where he could make you things or have an inpromptu movie night with a blanket fort and fairy lights gallore, anything he could think of that would have you second guessing whether going out on the date was necessary. He's determined to see you not go on the date and will keep you occupied by any means necessary.

Abby is not amused. He'd might say some shit like 'can they bench more then me?'

Abby hated not being seen by you, he hated the idea that some random person managed to score a date with you quicker then he could, and he had been trying for a long while since you became their manager. So he's not exactly all that happy and would wander what it was about this random person that had cuaght your eye, could they be more ripped then him? probably not, were they a good singer like him? probably not or else he would've heard about them by now.

So needless to say he's left baffled by what would compel you to look elswhere when you should be looking at him and only him. Abby would try to show why he was the better candidate, showing off his mucles and whatnot, all in hopes that you would see reason and not leave him behind to persue someone else.

Jinu is concerned about this person your going on a date with, espeically if they knew that you had connections to them, so what's stopping this person from trying to get to them through you and potentially hurting you in the process; Worse case scenario what if they were a demon hunter?

This was him trying to justify the ache within his chest when he heard you talk about this date and soon enough he wants every ounce of infomation that he can get out of you about this 'date.' Who they are, what they looked like, where were they taking you and so on to the point it felt like an interogation on his end.

He would secretly get Derpy and the bird to follow after you in secret and give him constant updates on how you are or have himself and the group follow you instead, wearing incredibly ridiculous outfits as to go undetected by you and the fans that would be having a night out themselves, watching your date from afar as they pathetically use the menus given to them to shield them if you were to look over at them.

Jinu will anxiously wait up for you when you get back from your date, demons don't need much sleep after all, but he was determined to not let someone else get to you and take you away from them. Hasn't he lost enough already? wasn't he allowed to be a little selfish with you even if he hated to be viewed as such?

#kpop demon hunters #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpop demon hunters x you #kpop demon hunters imagine #kpop demon hunters imagines #saja boys #saja boys x reader #saja boys x you #kpdh x reader #kpdh #kpdh x you #kpdh imagine #kpdh imagines #jinu x reader #romance x reader #baby x reader #mystery x reader #abby x reader #jinu x you

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binmeister · 2 days ago

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First time

Jinu, Abs, Baby x Reader (Separate)

Not everyone’s a sex god, the first time is usually hit or miss so what are they like the first time you’re intimate?

twiddling my thumbs... hey whats up. //ace author who's never written smut before

CW: not proofread, suggestive content - mentions of sex and contains details of sexual acts, NSFW (R18+), clumsy and imperfect first times, reader receiving, unprotected sex (pls actually wrap it up irl) - relatively gender neutral

Jinu

It’s clumsy, a little awkward but in a way where you’re both a little breathless and giggly as you get progressively more handsy with one another - he’d climbed on top of you as he stripped his shirt off and you’d rid yourself of your own top

Jinu hasn’t had intimacy in centuries and it shows in his sensitivity, the gasps he lets out when you run your hands down his chest and lower - the little “ah..” he lets out when you press a kiss against a sensitive spot on his neck

Admittedly he busts prematurely, his pants were still on and he was overwhelmed - you both paused for a second and he’s burying his face into your chest to hide his embarrassment as you coo at him that it’s okay, it’s not a big deal

You traced nonsensical patterns on the skin of his back as he tried to catch his breath, a little ragged as he tried to calm himself down from what happened then you’re both slowly ramping back up once he gets himself together

Kisses steadily going from small pecks to heavier, needier, he’s panting a little into your mouth and then your legs hook around his waist and bring his lower body flush against yours and he grimaces at the sensation of his load from earlier sticky and moist against his upper thighs

Your hands shifted up his back and towards his hair, running through it and giving a gentle tug as he struggles to shimmy out of his pants and boxers with the way you were clinging onto him - a steady urgency building in the way he returned your kisses

When it finally came to sliding into you, he felt like the wind was knocked out of him as he processed the sensation of you insides holding onto him so snugly - forehead pressed against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath and you busied yourself with pressing kisses to the top of his head; a pleased sigh escaping your lips as you played with the tips of his hair

He’d breathe out ‘I love you’s when he was finally able to move, hips stuttering a little and struggling to find a good pace and then you beg him - ‘faster..please..please..!’

And he’s not thinking straight anymore, letting his body do what felt right and he’s barely keeping it together when he ends up cumming again - hips jerking a little rougher and you’re moaning so prettily in his ear that any semblance of a thought in his head was about you

When it’s over he’s resting on your chest, your hands playing in his hair as you talk softly to eachother and then when he manages to gather enough stamina again he gets off of you and goes to get a warm wet towel to help clean you up

Abs / Abby

He’s no virgin - far from it, but all the one-off instances of sex meant nothing in the moment as he’s got you underneath him and you’re flushed

Normally he’s rough and takes what he wants but with you..? Sweet you? He’s softer, gentler than he’s ever been and his touch is ticklish - like he’s scared he’ll hurt you

You’re a little nervous when he’s fully naked with you and you’re staring at what he’s packing - he’s big, and the two of you pause as you wonder if he’ll even fit..?

You tried though and it stung when he attempted to press the tip in, you’d stopped him with a soft ‘ow!’ and some pressure to his shoulders and he pulled out instantly, pressing kisses all over your face as he apologised for hurting you - checking if you’re okay

His expression looked pained and he felt horrible that the first time you were going to have together hurt, but you’d whispered sweet words to him and reassured him that it’ll be okay.. you guys just needed to prep a little more before you could get there

So that’s what you two did - more lube, his fingers working you gently to steadily stretch you out and he had the honour of having your soft breaths and moans ghost his ear as he rested his head beside yours on the pillow you lay on he shifted and pressed his lips against your shoulder and let his teeth gently nibble at the skin as his hips instinctively started rutting against the bed in time with his fingers

You’d whined into his ear “Abby..need you..” and he slowly retracted his fingers from you, lining himself up and steadily starting to work his way in - tip first, then out, tip back in and a little deeper, pulling back out steadily, then going in a little deeper the next time bit by bit as he attempted to pace the stretch and soon enough after a steady rhythm of slow thrusts to get himself buried inside of you he’d done it

His chest was heaving at the tight grip you had around him and he felt like he ascended and went to heaven for once, he’d managed not to blow his load then and there but waited for you as your breaths were unsteady - chest tight as you tried to wait out the stinging sensation and your face was scrunched up in pain

He pressed his lips against your face repeatedly, soft kisses and spoke softly about ‘how good you’re doing’ that ‘you feel amazing’ and that he’s ‘gonna wait til you’re ready’ - a few minutes pass like this where he’s kissing you to distract you from the sting and eventually it does go away

You open your eyes barely and experimentally shift your hips to see if the sensation would feel different and he groans deep from his chest, and you ask him in a hushed voice if he can move

He does so, starting up a slow and deliberate rhythm until you ask him to move a little faster.. his ears latching onto every sound and plea you make as you share your first time together and he looks down at you as he tries to memorise every expression you make, the way you bite your lip when he manages a particularly deep thrust, every little detail that his foggy brain can manage to capture as he attempts to chase his high with you

When it ends you’re on cloud 9 and he’s talking softly to try and bring you back down to him, being careful not to overstimulate you until you’re able to think and speak coherently then he helps you to the bathroom and cleans you up

Baby

I don’t think he’s a virgin either but I don’t really see him having much interest in sex usually, like the act itself is too much of a hassle most of the time but then he gets attached to you and suddenly there’s something that clicks and he’s a lot more invested in physical touch - likes the sounds you make, the little quiver of your bottom lip when he leaves a hickie on your neck

You’d climbed on top of him, a make out session that had escalated steadily and he let out a low groan as you’d shifted and accidentally brushed your crotch against his when you moved your legs to rest either side of him

His hands were on your hips and he fingers pressed into the plush of your hips as he rocked you gently against him, capturing each gasp you let out with his mouth as one of his hands steadily trailed up under your shirt - lifting the fabric off of you in the process

He’d tug at your clothes, urging you to take them off with a husky voice as he nuzzled his face into your neck and just inhaled - liked the way you smelt and then can’t resist the urge to bite a hickie into you - bigger than usual and in a space on your neck that’d be a pain to cover up and something about you struggling to hide it the next day makes his head dizzy in a good way

By the time both of you are nude his head is fuzzy, not really thinking straight as he shifts to manoeuvre your bodies so he was on top - pressing you deeper in the mattress as he humps your thigh briefly before peeling himself off you for a second to take in how you looked

Your eyes are glazed over and your chest is huffing air into your lungs, your lips swollen a little from the times he’d let his teeth nip at them during your earlier make out session

He can’t help it when he dives back in and melds his lips against yours again, hands trailing down your body to rub circles into your hips as he he starts to trail his lips down your neck and to your chest

Out of all the guys, aside from Abby, he lasts the longest and might be one of the more vocal ones - liking the way you shiver if he groans in your ear or if he really feels like it.. he lets a moan slip out and he loves the way you tighten up around him when you hear him

He’s not very gentle but he likes to take it slow, each thrust reaching deep and he likes when you ask him to go faster because he just hums and says ‘but it feels so good like this right..?’ and you can’t help but agree - not outwardly but the moan you let out speaks for itself

He doesn’t cum but he manages to get you there, you feel bad that he didn’t finish and he shushes you as he pulls out - a tingle going up his neck when he hears you whine at the loss and then your legs wrap around his hips to pull him back against you which leads him smirk at you as he pokes fun at you before steadily sliding himself back in

A pleased sigh from you at the act and you end up in this position for a while, him inside of you while you mindlessly talk about how it felt

His ego grows when you comment that it feels amazing and his hips move without meaning to and you gasp and smack at his shoulder, he just tucks his face into your neck and rests his body weight on you and you’re stuck there til you either fall asleep like this or you finally let him get up so he can help you shower

#kpdh x reader #saja boys x reader #saja boys #abby x reader #abby saja x reader #jinu x reader #baby saja x reader #kpop demon hunters x reader

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artficlly · 1 day ago

Text

lessons in lovemaking [part five]

marvel au bucky x blackwidow!reader

You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.

Tags: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fingering, kissing, making out, kitchen sex/foreplay???, reader guiding bucky, praise, fem reader, panic attacks, bucky is touch starved, mentions of previous sa, stake-out mission, wow! they're actually doing their jobs this chapter!!, ex black widow reader, very consensual, safe words, bucky barnes needs a hug, angst, bickering, reader is lowkey not doing good, trauma, mentions of past violence and death, no use of y/n, gif does not represent reader's appearance, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 13.9k

A/N: it's finally here! this was... a fucking beast to write. only took a month of agony. this got so, so long, i ended up cutting an entire scene near the start so hopefully it doesn't jump around too much. let me know if you enjoy! on a more personal note, just wanted to give you all an update. i had put a few posts mentioning how i've been very unwell mentally and physically. it's made it really hard for me to write while also studying full time. but um yeah basically i was diagnosed with a?? kinda scary?? chronic disease lol?? which explains why i've spent the last 6 years of my life exhausted and feeling awful, and turns out my depression/anxiety is likely a result of this. but yeah, after all these years of dismissal and misdiagnosis, i know what's wrong so i'm getting medicated for it. i'm hoping it gives me a big energy boost to juggle uni and my hobbies (like writing) more efficiently. anyway, this authors note is so long, if you have any questions or thoughts on this chapter, reblog or send me an ask! thank you all so much. as always, sorry for any typos!

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Bucky didn’t respond at first.

His jaw ticked, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. From the way he shifted, feet planting wider, shoulders drawing back just enough that you almost suspected he was bracing. Not for a conversation, but for a hit. As if he expected you to launch across the balcony, heels and all, and pummel your fist directly into his face.

As absurd as it was, it almost didn’t surprise you. You’d become strangely used to his defensive reactions, the expectation of raised voices and violence, the way he always prepared his body for pain, like he expected even you to punish him.

And maybe the worst part was that deep down, he thought he deserved it.

Maybe you could’ve hit him. Pounded against his chest or disarmed him with words, if nothing else. You could’ve demanded, snarled questions as to why you were some secret mistake he didn’t dare let anyone see. Why are you ashamed to be around me? Why are you embarrassed?

Do you even care about me?

Do you care about me in the same way I care about you?

The ache in your chest flared thinking about it. Deep down, you knew the answer.

So, you held yourself back. Quiet, still, observing. Not because you weren’t angry, not because you weren’t hurting, but because you had become disturbingly good at packing that raw pain into tidy boxes and sealing them away.

Bucky adjusted the wrist of his leather glove, tugging it tight like it gave his hands something to do other than shake. You lifted your chin.

“Alright.” He spoke finally, voice a little hoarse, and for a split second, you wondered if he had been crying. “Talking… that’s usually where the trouble starts, isn’t it?”

His attempt to be light-hearted, to gauge your reaction, was short-lived. You met him with silence, exhaling slowly from your nose as you looked him up and down. He immediately folded, metaphorical throat bared as he met your gaze with his signature puppy-dog eyes.

For all your guilt, for the sadness and longing you had felt these past weeks, you still had enough self-respect to keep it together. You’d spent too many years of your life making excuses, compromises for those around you. For once, you would stick up for yourself, for once, you’d let someone other than yourself know you were hurting. You weren’t sure if that was a strength or a weakness. You were sick of being the one who met insults with sarcasm, tired of being the one who shouldered every blow and sting for the sake of others' comfort.

For once in your life, you would take the teeth you were born with and learn how to bite.

“You hurt me.”

Bucky’s fidgeting stilled instantly, face taut, his eyes searching yours already wide with creeping dread. “I—”

“Let me finish.” You cut over him, and his mouth clamped shut.

“I know this…whatever it is between us is complicated. There isn’t exactly a rulebook for this stuff. I know it’s messy, I know we never defined anything, and maybe we should’ve talked more…” Your body shuddered as you sighed, hesitant as you decided on your slow wording. “But what I understood, what I thought we both understood, was that there was trust. If there wasn’t anything, there was always trust… and what you said, that broke it.”

You paused, trying to steady your voice. Bucky had gone deathly still across from you. You watched his expression crumble. Guilt bled into every crease on his face, each of your words weighing down on him.

“I know that I lied to you about Nat, and I’m sorry. I know I should’ve said something, but I was scared that you’d react badly. That you’d react in the way that you did. I’ve never pretended to be easy to be close with. I know that I can be guarded, cold, or distant but…” You hesitated, sucking in a sharp breath.

The words burned behind your teeth.

“I always cared. I do care.” Your voice softened momentarily, despite the bile rising in your throat. “I gave you my time, my trust, I took you seriously, Bucky, I told you things I haven’t even really told anyone, not even myself, I—”

You crossed your arms over your chest, fingers digging into your sides. You could feel that stone in your gut, tears pressing just behind your eyes. You wouldn’t cry, not here, not now. You’d say your peace, lay it all out before him and see what he did with it.

“I get that you’re scared. I get that you feel shame, shame that you don’t quite understand. I understand that you have an instinct to protect yourself, to control how others see you because you’re afraid to push it too far, afraid to upset anyone…” The words tasted bitter, but they kept coming like a flood, hot and vile even as Bucky looked across at you like he was seconds away from crumpling to the floor. “But what you said was cruel. It hurt me. I just need you to understand that. I need you to understand that whatever it is we’ve been doing, friendship, lessons, whatever… It was never a joke to me.”

As you met his gaze directly, he flinched, jaw clenching so tightly that a muscle in his cheek twitched.

“You acted like I was beneath you, like you needed to downplay all that has happened for the sake of saving face. I understand you want to keep things private, I respect that, but a desire for privacy is very different to belittling me in front of Steve.”

Bucky’s shoulders slouched, his entire body shrinking in on itself. You half expected him to drop to his knees then and there from the way his eyes locked onto the balcony, too ashamed to meet your eye.

“I can be your secret, I can help you, but we are equals,” you muttered, quieter now. “I won’t chase after you, begging for scraps of decency. I’m not going to accept you pretending I’m invisible, that you’re disgusted by me the second someone important walks in the room.”

You looked away, breathing deeply through your nose as you willed the weight pressing on your chest to leave. “I’m not asking you to be perfect, god knows I am anything but that. I just need you to understand that I’m… I’m sick of making myself smaller just so other people can feel comfortable. I’m sick of the constant judgment, the way people don’t think I realise. I’m sick of all of it.”

When you finally looked up again, he looked like he had been punched in the gut. Not physically, but in that hollow, breathless way that left someone stunned and struggling to stand upright. Like every word you’d laid out between the two of you had knocked the air clean out of him.

His mouth parted, but no sound came. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, staring past you without actually seeing. You could see it written across his face, the guilt, the lingering panic, the way his whole body trembled. It was the slight hitch with each inhale, the way his shoulders rolled tight beneath the strain of his suit jacket like he wanted to crawl out of it, crawl out of his own skin.

He was close. Too close, seconds away from spiralling into the kind of anxiety that devoured everything in its path.

So, you gave him space. Silent and steady, let him work his own way through it.

The breeze stirred around you, catching a few strands of loose hair. They tickled against the nape of your neck. Below you could hear the hustle and bustle of the city nightlife, the chatter, the cars. The muffled sound of the party music just beyond the glass windows separating the balcony from the rest of the tower.

Bucky’s chest rose, then held, then he released it slowly. You watched him, silent, as his eyes flicked around. One smell, two things he could feel, three things in his line of sight. Good. He was grounding himself.

You watched without interfering, letting him work and find his own rhythm. You could practically read his mind now, how the cogs turned, each minuscule mannerism telling you which step he was at. You’d coaxed him through enough of these moments to know the signs. And maybe there was something bittersweet about it, the fact that he was steady enough to guide himself, no longer dependent on the comfort of your voice to guide him through.

“You’re right,” Bucky said at last, the words rasping out like they had been lodged in his throat for hours. “You’re right, I hurt you. And I hate myself for it.”

His hands flexed at his sides, fists curling and releasing as if unsure of what to do with them. A flicker of movement crossed his face, a wince, maybe, and then he lifted his eyes.

“I was a coward.” He continued, voice hoarse. “I’ve been replaying it in my head every day since. Over and over and… thinking about you. About how I made you feel.”

He took a half-step forward, caught in the pull of wanting to close the gap. His foot faltered mid-air, stopping him. He planted it back on the ground, shoulders locked, as if he was worried you’d dash if he closed the distance between you.

“I should’ve apologised that day, the second it left my mouth,” he muttered, words almost lost to the breeze. “I should’ve followed you instead of hiding and hoping it would fix itself.”

He swallowed hard, throat bobbing. “And I know it’s not an excuse… I was just so afraid.. Afraid that I had fucked up so badly that I would lose you. Guess it didn’t matter in the end because I lost you anyway—”

“You didn’t lose me,” you cut in, firm but soft. “I’m right here.”

He blinked hard at that, as if he couldn’t believe what you were saying. His chest trembled as he dragged in a sharp inhale.

“I’m sorry.”

There. That was it, the moment you’d been waiting for, the thing you’d needed from the very beginning. Not grovelling, not guilt, not the sight of him unravelling, just understanding. You hadn’t wanted to watch him spiral or flinch beneath the weight of his own remorse. That was never the point. You only wanted to be seen. For him to see you, the ache you’d swallowed, the silence you’d worn like armour.

You weren’t the kind of person who held pain like a weapon, who dangled forgiveness just out of reach. But you were tired, bone-deep tired, of being stepped over, of shrinking yourself to keep the peace. Tired of wearing humour like a mask, sharp and dry, to cover the bruises he couldn’t see. All you’d wanted was for him to get it. And now… now he did.

All you ever wanted was for someone to listen to you. Truly listen.

“Yeah?” Your voice cracked slightly despite yourself.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “I’m so sorry. I’m not embarrassed by you, if anything, I’m embarrassed about how I acted—”

“Bucky…”

“And don’t you dare say it’s okay,” he interrupted quickly, almost desperate. “Because it isn’t. I should never have said that, never have even thought that. After all you’ve done, after all the kindness and patience you’ve shown me, and I repay you by shaming you—”

“Repayment…” You cut over him, rolling the word slowly over your tongue, head shaking. “You don’t owe me anything, remember? That’s how it works with us, yeah?”

He exhaled hard. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Handle all this so gracefully…Have such a pure heart despite everything.”

“If I were to describe my heart,” you said with a dry little huff, “it would not be pure—”

“You’re killin’ me here—” Bucky groaned, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation, and for the first time in days, the edge of your mouth twitched into a smile. Sly, wicked, and entirely involuntary.

His gaze caught it instantly, and his breath stilled.

You took the initiative, closing the distance between you in a handful of steps, until his breath hitched slightly, his eyes locking onto your face.

“I am sorry.” He murmured, voice less desperate now. “Seriously. I don’t expect forgiveness, hell, I don’t want forgiveness unless you really mean it, and you’re not just saying it to spare my feelings—”

“Bucky—”

“No, don’t say it—!”

“Bucky.” You breathed his name. Your hands found the front of his tie, fingers curling around the black silk. You wondered if it was the same tie you had blindfolded him with, if he had subconsciously chosen it to feel closer to you. You nearly smirked at the thought, a warmth in your belly despite the surprised expression flooding his features. You tugged gently, and he didn’t resist. He leaned into the pull, breath catching again as you drew him in close, close enough for your foreheads to nearly touch, for your breath to ghost across his lips. “I forgive you.”

His eyes fluttered shut, like the words had struck him physically. “I don’t know if I deserve you—”

“Bucky.” You hummed, almost scolding. “If I’m honest, I forgave you weeks ago.”

His eyes opened, a spark of confusion flickering.

“I was just… sabotaging myself,” you admitted, voice quieter now. “Because that’s what I do when things get complicated. I cut people off, I burn bridges, I destroy my own life. I convinced myself that you hated me, because I lied to you about Nat.”

He quickly shook his head. “I could never hate you.”

And there it was.

You exhaled, something soft breaking inside you, not the kind that shattered and left shards punctured into your heart and lungs, but the type of crack that let the light in. Your hand slid from his tie to his chest, resting lightly over his heart. Beneath your palm, it thudded unevenly and wildly.

“Stop looking at me like I’m not real,” you muttered.

“I’m not—”

You shook your head with a snicker, fingers tracing across his shirt to the lapels of his suit jacket. You tugged at it, and he stiffened in surprise, but didn’t stop you as you twisted around him, easing the jacket from his shoulders. He shrugged it off wordlessly, leaning into your guidance, and you knew he was secretly relieved to be rid of the thing.

“I know you hate these things,” you murmured, voice teasing. “Can’t move properly, too tight around your shoulder ‘cause Tony never gets them tailored right.”

Bucky blinked at you, lips parting slightly, some of the tension still lingering in his brows.

“You remembered that?”

“Of course,” you smiled faintly, smoothing the sleeve as you folded it over your arm. “You know, at this point I think I remember more about you than I do about myself.”

His lips curved at that. “Tell me something then?”

“Like what?”

“Something I don’t know about you. Something you’ve never told anyone.”

You blinked, caught off guard. For a long moment, you just stared at him, stunned into stillness. No one had ever asked you that before. Not really. Not with that quiet, open curiosity. Not like they actually wanted to hear the answer. People were always eager to talk, to fill the silence with their own stories and needs. But here he was, waiting, willing to listen.

It left you a little breathless.

There were still entire corners of your life shrouded in fog, moments you hadn’t unpacked, parts of yourself you hadn’t dared to explore. You’d spent so long watching others, peeling back their layers, learning what made them tick. It was instinctual how you kept yourself safe. Quietly observant, always listening, always careful. You didn’t mean to be secretive. It wasn’t some deliberate act of mystery. It just… never came up. No one had ever made space for you like that. No one had ever lingered long enough to want something beyond the surface.

Until now.

“I don’t know.” You mumbled, gaze dropping. “I guess… I guess pick at my nails when I’m nervous?”

He let out a soft, almost fond huff of laughter. “Yeah, I picked up on that one months ago.”

“Shit. That obvious?” You glanced down at your hand, suddenly extra aware of the damage. The nailbeds were raw and uneven, the skin around them puffy and inflamed from restless fussing.

Then Bucky did something unexpected. He reached out, slow and careful, the soft creak of his leather gloves barely audible. His gloved fingers brushed against yours first, the cool and smooth material almost foreign in feeling. You watched, breath caught in your throat, as he gently threaded his fingers between yours.

“Maybe a little,” he murmured with a quiet snort, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

Without a word, he began to tug a glove off, leather resisting slightly before giving way. You swallowed and helped him, pinching the fingers and easing them free, and then repeated with the other side.

His bare fingers closed gently around yours again, his palm warm and calloused. Your jaw snapped shut as he traced his thumb over the jagged cuticles in a comforting, rhythmic motion.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you breathed in, sharp and shallow, and shrugged in a small, embarrassed motion. “Well… I don’t know, then, I’m probably an insomniac who relies too heavily on coffee to get by.”

That earned a proper laugh from him, and warmth pooled in your belly like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

“You and me both,” he said, eyes crinkling at the corners.

You hesitated then, teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek as your faint smile faltered. Your mind turned inward, digging past the surface, searching through the fog for something true, something buried a little deeper. Your brow furrowed as your gaze dropped again, fingers twitching faintly in Bucky’s grasp like they wanted to pull away but didn’t quite make it.

“I’m claustrophobic,” you admitted at last, so quietly you didn’t think he had heard you.

His laughter cut off mid-breath, a soft sound dying on his tongue. The stillness that followed was immediate. His hand stopped mid-motion, thumb frozen against your knuckles

You forced yourself to keep going. “I don’t like small spaces. Feeling… trapped. It’s why I never take the elevator. It’s why I… freaked out on you at training the other week.”

“I’m sorry—” he began, voice already thick with regret.

“It’s okay.” You shook your head quickly, eyes flicking away. “You didn’t know. It just… it just reminds me… reminds me of things I’ve tried to bury.”

His free hand rose then. You didn’t flinch as his fingers brushed your chin, tilting it upward with such deliberate tenderness that it made your breath catch. His touch was featherlight, and when your eyes met his, the air sucked out of your lungs.

“I understand.”

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. “I’m sorry that I freaked out on you. I should’ve—”

“No.” His tone deepened, firm but gentle. “It’s okay. You don’t apologise to me for that. Ever.”

His voice was low now, so low it vibrated in his chest, a soft rumble that thrummed through the narrow space between your bodies. “You never have to apologise for setting boundaries.”

The words hit you square in the chest, like the impact of something you didn’t see coming. Your knees weakened, just slightly, and you gripped his wrist to steady yourself, though whether it was to anchor you or to keep from moving closer, you weren’t sure.

For a moment, everything else faded, the hum of the distant city life, the soft swish of the breeze, even the bass from the party. All that remained was him, warm, close and achingly sincere.

A part of you wanted to kiss him. Badly. The urge bloomed like heat in your chest, climbed up your throat, burned behind your lips. But then your gaze flicked, just briefly, to the giant pane of glass windows behind him, floor to ceiling, offering a clear view into the party beyond. You were almost certain Steve and Nat were watching from somewhere, probably with popcorn.

So instead, you smiled, small and almost rueful, and didn’t move. Didn’t lean in.

But he did.

His hand, still cupping your chin, shifted just slightly, tilting your face upward with a touch so gentle it barely registered as pressure at all. His eyes searched yours for a heartbeat longer, as though committing you to memory, as though asking are you sure? without even speaking a word.

And then his lips met yours.

Every nerve in your body buzzed, and his lips were warm and plush against yours. You could feel the way he held himself back, like he was afraid of falling too deep into hunger.

His hand hovered at your waist, fingers brushing your side, hesitant to pull you closer unless you gave him a sign. The other remained at your jaw, thumb stroking the hinge of it in a gentle rhythm, anchoring you. His breath mingled with yours, sweet with the faintest trace of spearmint, his chest rising and falling unevenly against the few inches that still lingered between you.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes blinked open as though waking from something half-dreamed. A breath of laughter broke from your lips, soft and stunned, and you shook your head slightly. Still, you didn’t move far, fingers tangled loosely in his tie. “People could be watching, you know—”

You were beginning to think that none of it mattered anyway, not when he looked at you like that.

“Let them.”

You didn’t even flinch as he pressed in again, slow and exploratory, the faintest drag of his lower lip over yours, testing the shape of your mouth with a tenderness that sent a ripple down your spine.

But something in him had shifted, restraint thinned, weeks of built-up tension bleeding into a desperate need.

His mouth moved with more certainty, lips parting yours just slightly, enough to deepen the kiss without taking too much. He coaxed rather than claimed, a subtle tilt of his head aligning you closer, a soft press of his tongue just barely tasting the seam of your mouth.

Your fingers curled tighter back into the front of his tie, tugging him closer as that familiar rush of heat flooded your chest and belly. You responded, parting for him, letting him in, and the reward was a low, pleased hum from deep in his throat, vibrating through his chest and into yours.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and dazed, the slick warmth of his mouth lingering, his gaze was heavy-lidded, pupils dark, lips parted just slightly. A faint smear of your lipstick sat crookedly above his upper lip—evidence, as obvious as a lovebite

You blinked at him, lightheaded, dizzy in the best way, like the floor had dropped out from under you and all that held you upright was him. And then, to your own surprise, you giggled. Actually giggled, breathy and unguarded, a sound you hadn't heard from yourself in far too long.

“They’re going to be insufferable now, you know that?” you said, grinning against the glow that refused to leave your cheeks.

He tilted his head, lips quirking. “Who?”

You gave him a pointed look. “Steve and Nat.”

“Because their little scheme worked?” He snorted. “Shit, you’re probably right.”

“I’m already bracing myself,” you muttered, mock-exasperated. “Nat gets this tone in her voice when she’s feeling particularly smug. It’s the worst, she doesn’t even try to hide it. Drives me crazy, I swear—”

“Sam knows too,” Bucky said, a little too casually, but his voice dipped just enough to betray him, quiet like he almost hoped you wouldn’t catch it.

Your smile faltered. “Oh?”

He scratched the back of his neck, eyes flicking briefly away. “Yeah… after the little, uh… slip-up in training, he knows everything now.”

“Everything?”

Bucky winced, shoulders hunching slightly. “Yeah. I may have told him and Steve the whole story.”

You gaped at him a moment, speechless, before you found the sense to speak up. “The full story… as in, lessons and everything?”

“Maybe…” He gave you a look so sheepish it bordered on boyish. “Do you wanna know what Sam said when he found out?”

You groaned, almost too afraid to ask. “What?”

“‘That sounds like an HR nightmare.’”

You broke into laughter, a real, bubbling laugh that rose out of you before you could stop it. “Shit. We’re in deep now.”

He watched you, fondness etched into every line of his face. His expression had softened again, that rare, open version of him shining through. You pulled back enough to look up at him properly. His eyes were gentle, amused, but earnest—so goddamn earnest it made your chest ache.

“I feel… good about this,” he said, and the quiet conviction in his voice struck you deep. It rasped low, his tone threaded with a sort of rough certainty that made your stomach flutter. “For the first time in… I don’t know. I feel good.”

You blinked up at him, eyes wide and a little dazed. Warmth bloomed steadily in your chest, curling beneath your ribs and climbing up your throat. It spread like honey through your limbs, soft and molten, loosening something inside you that had been wound tight for far too long.

“Careful, Bucky.”

“I’m tellin’ the truth, doll.” His hand brushed your arm, knuckles grazing like static, his eyes trailing down your body as if you were committing you to memory, curve by curve, inch by inch.

“Keep talking like that,” you murmured, “and I might kiss you again.”

His smile curled slowly, crooked and dangerous. “Oh yeah? Just kissing?”

You tilted your head, letting your gaze drop to his mouth. “Maybe more… if you’re lucky.”

He laughed, a low, husky sound that vibrated through you. Then he took a single step closer. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, once, then again, just to see the way his expression shifted. Bucky let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan, one hand snaking around your waist as he pulled you in again for just one more kiss.

—

After the disaster that had been the training session—where you and Bucky had gone so hard it probably qualified as attempted murder in at least three jurisdictions—Steve, Natasha, and Sam had clearly smashed their heads together and prayed they could cook up a plan to get you two talking again. The infamous balcony had been plan B, and to their endless delight (and your mutual dismay), it had actually worked. But that small victory left them scrambling, because now they had to try to cancel the other contingency plans they’d set in motion, like overexcited matchmakers who’d gone past their pay grade.

God only knew how many schemes they’d cooked up. From your current predicament, it seemed they’d well and truly scraped the bottom of the barrel. Because here you were, wedged into the backseat of a car far too small for three muscled idiots, on what was technically a stakeout, but what felt more like slow torture. You were hours into waiting for some crypto-genuis kid, Karpin’s pet money launderer, to finally come home. And the whole reason you and Bucky were here at all? Steve and Sam had begged Fury to approve your presence on this op, convinced this was plan C, the masterstroke that would fix things between you two if the balcony gambit failed.

But the balcony hadn’t failed. The balcony had worked spectacularly, and now Steve and Sam were left trying to undo their apparent meddling, scrambling to pull you off the mission. Too late, Fury had signed off, likely with one of his signature scowls and a clever quip. Everything was greenlit. No take-backs.

You’d managed to pry this information out of Steve within the first three hours, much to the absolute dismay of Sam. Now both of them were currently avoiding your gaze like their lives depended on it, and you were simmering, imagining at least five creative ways to end them before the kid even showed up.

“So this was your brilliant plan C, huh?” you hissed, exasperation curling through every word as you craned your neck forward, arms braced on the back of Steve’s seat, peering between him and Sam in the front. The centre console dug uncomfortably into your ribs, but you hardly noticed over the heat pricking across your skin. “Cram us into this metal coffin and hope the awkward tension does the trick?”

Steve still kept his eyes stubbornly fixed on the street ahead, knuckles white on the steering wheel like he might snap it in two if he had to endure one more minute. The muscle in his jaw ticked, but he said nothing. Sam, slouched in the passenger seat, had perfected the art of looking like he wasn’t there at all, staring out the window, face blank, like maybe if he wished hard enough, he could astral project somewhere far away from this cramped nightmare.

Beside you, Bucky had sunk so low in his seat you half expected him to disappear into the upholstery. His arms were crossed tightly, his long legs awkwardly angled to avoid pressing too much against yours. Though your thigh and shoulder still touched, the contact was warm and sticky. Secretly, you didn’t mind it that much.

“Are you gonna bring it up and whine about it every 5 minutes or—” Sam finally drawled, and you leant over to smack the back of his seat in warning. You could’ve sworn the jolt made his eyes roll harder.

“It wasn’t my first choice—” Steve spoke at last, voice strained, and you scoffed, flopping back into your seat. You shot a glare up at the rear-view mirror, where Steve steadfastly refused to meet your eye. You resisted the urge to kick the back of his seat. Sam’s lip twitched, and you weren’t sure if he was fighting a smirk or a grimace.

“Yeah, yours was the training session, wasn’t it?” you muttered, shifting in your cramped seat, your thigh brushing Bucky’s. “The one where we nearly killed each other?”

“That wasn’t my fault,” Steve protested.

“You paired us against each other—!”

“I thought it would help work out the tension—!”

“Oh, genius move, Cap. Almost as subtle as the balcony stunt. Remind me…” You said, glancing between the two of them with an exaggerated patience. “How much money did you lose to Nat over us making out within twenty minutes?”

Bucky choked on air beside you.

“Nope,” Sam cut back, smirking, eyes on the windshield but clearly enjoying himself. “She made me promise not to spill what she put down.”

“She cleaned up, didn’t she?” you said, grinning despite yourself.

“Let’s just say I owe her a drink…or five,” Sam muttered.

“And you two just went along with it. And when that actually worked,” you went on, voice rising as you gestured vaguely at the cramped space around you, “you didn’t think to, I don’t know, maybe… cancel this mission?”

Steve gave a long-suffering sigh, “I already said we tried—”

You blinked, turning to Bucky, who was doing his best impression of a statue. His ears were pink. God help him, he was blushing. “Are you hearing this?”

“Loud and clear,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his jaw, eyes fixed on the upholstery like it was the most fascinating thing in the car. “I’m starting to think we’re the mission, not the kid.”

Sam barked a quiet laugh at that, then immediately tried to hide it behind a cough.

You smirked, leaning back just enough to make your knee knock into Bucky’s. “At least someone finds this funny.”

“Oh, I do,” Sam didn’t even try to hide his grin now, eyes glinting in the rearview mirror. “You know, Buck folded like a lawn chair after that training room mess. Didn’t even need to interrogate him, he just started confessing.”

You blinked, glancing sideways at Bucky, and sure enough, his shoulders tensed, jaw tight, face flushed red. Yeah. You’d heard about that. After you and Bucky had practically torn each other apart during that disaster of a sparring session, it hadn’t taken long before Bucky caved. All it took was one pointed look from Steve, and he’d apparently spilt everything. The lessons. The gala mission. The whole messy, complicated truth. He hadn’t wanted to hide it anymore, and they hadn’t judged him. If anything, they’d been supportive, but god, had it given Sam and Steve endless material to work with.

“I didn’t fold,” Bucky muttered, dragging a hand down his face, trying to hide the red creeping up his neck.

Sam’s grin widened. “Oh no, you practically snapped in half. ‘It’s not what it looked like! I swear!’”

Steve, who had been studiously pretending to focus on the rows of beach houses, finally let out a quiet snort.

Sam continued his onslaught. “He was trying so hard to be chill. Said something about ‘It’s not like she was giving me sex lessons or anything!’ Swear to god, I thought you were about to write us both a formal apology letter.”

Your brow shot up, heat blooming warm and easy in your chest. Bucky groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“Jesus, can we not—”

“So…” Sam began, tone too casual to be innocent. He swivelled half around in his seat, arm slung over the headrest. “What exactly do these lessons involve?”

Bucky shot him a glare that could have melted steel. “Not talking to you about this.”

“Right. Right, of course.” Sam nodded solemnly, lips twitching. “Just curious. Is there, like… a syllabus? A final exam?”

Sam looked over to you, and you rewarded him with a blank, unbothered expression. All of his attempts to get under your skin so far had fallen flat.

“I swear to God, Sam—” Bucky huffed.

“Okay, okay!” Sam laughed, hands raised in surrender. “Damn, Barnes. Touchy!”

Bucky grumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face as if to physically wipe away the heat creeping across. He exhaled through his nose, visibly trying to collect himself, jaw working like he was biting back another groan.

The moment stretched, the car settling into a beat of silence.

Then Bucky leaned back, voice dry as bone, as if he was looking for punishment, “I still haven’t forgiven you for not packing snacks, by the way.”

It earned a sharp bark of laughter from you before Sam twisted around, indignation written all over his face. “You were supposed to pack snacks!”

“You’re the reason we’re here in the first place!” Bucky shot back, arching a brow, the edge of a smirk threatening his mouth.

Sam groaned, tipping his head against the headrest like a man resigned to his fate. “God, please. Can you just shut up—?”

“You’re the one who has been talking this entire time—”

“Eyes up.” Steve’s voice cut through the bickering, sharp enough to snap the tension like a taut wire. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as his gaze fixed out the windshield.

You straightened instinctively, pulse kicking up, the lingering humour of the quarrel evaporating as your attention followed his line of sight.

A sleek, silver car, a little too flashy for the neighbourhood, rolled up the driveway of the house you’d been watching for hours. The low purr of its engine smothered the quiet hum of distant gulls in the air. The driver door swung open, and out stepped a kid who looked like he belonged more at some overpriced frat party than tangled up in Karpin’s operation. Early twenties, hair artfully messy, sunglasses pushed back onto his head like he thought he was some kind of tech mogul already. His clothes screamed new money, designer labels, logo-heavy, just subtle enough to look casual if you weren’t paying attention.

From the back of the car, the trunk popped, and a scruffy golden retriever leapt out with a thump, tail wagging like mad as it bounded up to the kid, nearly bowling him over. The kid laughed, ruffling the dog’s ears, before slinging a backpack over one shoulder and heading toward the front door.

“Target’s home,” Steve muttered, already shifting into command mode. His voice went flat, but with that edge of anticipation that always crept in when the waiting was over.

Sam sat up straighter, his earlier grin gone, eyes sharp. “Finally.”

Bucky leaned forward, his knee brushing yours, the tension humming back into his frame like a coiled spring. “What’s the play?”

Steve didn’t take his eyes off the house. “We move in quietly. Sam, you cover the back in case he spooks. Buck, I’ll need you two with me at the door. No heroics. We’re here to talk, not smash up his house.”

You gave a tight nod, hand already sliding to the door handle. “Copy that.”

“Let’s move,” Steve said, and the car doors clicked open almost in unison, the stale warmth of the vehicle giving way to the salty breeze as you slipped out into the early afternoon air.

— The dog’s tongue lolled out of its mouth as it bounded after the tennis ball you lobbed down the yard for what had to be the fiftieth time. The poor thing was all enthusiasm and no aim, skidding through flowerbeds and trampling what was clearly someone’s expensive landscaping project. You didn’t have the heart to stop him. The quiet thunk of the ball hitting the fence made you sigh, shading your eyes with one hand as the retriever scrabbled to chase it down.

The house loomed behind you, modern, sleek, soulless, and through the open patio doors, you could hear muffled voices. Mostly Steve’s, low and steady. Occasionally, Sam’s sharper edge cut through, exasperation bleeding into his tone. You couldn’t make out the words, but you didn’t need to. This was dragging. Of course, it was dragging.

You glanced at the sky. How long had it been? Too long. Definitely too long.

The dog trotted back, panting, ball slimy with slobber, and you took it with a grimace, wiping your palm on your thigh before tossing it again.

The screen door creaked, and you turned just in time to see Bucky step out, rubbing the back of his neck. His jacket was off, henley sleeves rolled to his elbows, expression carved from tired frustration.

“Well?” you asked, arching a brow, catching the ball one-handed as the dog dropped it at your feet.

Bucky exhaled, dropping onto the steps beside you. “It’s not going well. Kid’s a wreck. Just keeps freaking out, throwing out half-baked lies, hoping we’ll get bored and leave him alone.”

You smirked, tossing the ball lazily. “He doesn’t know those two very well then, does he?”

Bucky’s lips quirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “They’re trying for a good cop, bad cop thing… don’t think it’s going too well.”

You dusted off your hands, straightening. If this dragged on any longer, it would be nightfall, you were entirely sure there was a better and faster way to get the kid to spill. “It’s my turn to play cop, don’t you think?”

Bucky looked up at you, wary. “You sure? He’s on the verge of passing out.”

“All the more reason to cut the bullshit.”

The living room was too clean, not lived-in, just staged, like everything else in this house. The kid sat on the edge of the pristine white couch, hunched over, elbows on his knees, wringing his hands so tightly his knuckles had gone white. His chest hitched, breathing fast and shallow. Steve was standing nearby, voice soft, like he was talking him down from a bridge. Sam loomed near the window, arms crossed, scowl in place.

You didn’t bother asking. You just dragged a chair across the floor, the legs screeching deliberately against the polished hardwood as you flipped it around and straddled it, resting your arms along the back. The kid’s red-rimmed eyes snapped up at the sound, wide with panic, sweat beading at his temple.

“Okay, everyone, let’s take a breath.”

Steve shot you a sceptical look, brows knitting together like he wasn’t sure if you were serious. Sam, arms still folded tight across his chest, arched a brow, glancing at you like, really? The kid—Brandon, that was his name, you remembered now—just looked outright bewildered, as if the suggestion was the most alien thing he’d heard all afternoon.

“One deep breath. All of you.” You spoke pointedly, daring a glare over at good cop and bad cop respectively. You dragged in a slow inhale through your nose, filling your chest until your ribs ached, then let it out in a long, audible exhale. You exaggerated it, not for theatrics, but to show there was nothing complicated about it. Just air. Just calm.

Steve, bless him, always the good soldier, mirrored you next, drawing in a slow breath like he was trying to set an example. Sam followed reluctantly, like he hated admitting that maybe you had a point. His chest rose and fell, but he kept side-eyeing Brandon the whole time.

Brandon hesitated, his gaze flickering between you all like he was waiting for someone to yell gotcha! His knee bounced erratically, fingers twitching. You half expected the kid to bolt—not that he’d make it far, you were sure either of the three men would take absolute delight in tackling him to his shiny, expensive floors.

“C’mon, Brandon,” you coaxed, leaning forward just slightly, head tilting. “You’ll feel a whole lot better. Just one breath. Try it.”

For a beat, you thought he might refuse, too locked in his panic to even try. But then his shoulders sagged a fraction, and he sucked in a shaky breath, a wet, uneven sound that hitched halfway through. He let it out in a rush, but it was something.

“There we go,” you murmured. “Better, huh?”

Shit, maybe you were good cop.

He stared at you, wide-eyed, chest still shuddering from the uneven breath he’d managed. Like he couldn’t quite believe the panic hadn’t immediately swallowed him whole.

You didn’t rush him. Instead, you took another slow, deliberate breath, and with just the faintest glance to the side, you caught Steve doing the same. Bucky too, silent and steady at the doorway, setting the rhythm without a word. Even Sam, though he tried to look like he wasn’t following your lead, let his shoulders loosen as he exhaled through his nose.

“Good,” you murmured after another long beat. “Let’s just stay right here for a second. Was getting far too tense in here, wasn’t it?”

Brandon sucked in another breath, still ragged, but at least it wasn’t the frantic gasping from before. His hands were still trembling on his knees, but they weren’t clenched into fists anymore.

“Okay. Let’s rationalise this, yeah? One step at a time.” Your voice dropped low and warm, the kind of tone you’d use with a skittish animal. The type of tone you used with Bucky when he was spiralling.

“Do you know who he is?” You tilted your head toward Steve.

Brandon hesitated, but his eyes flicked to Steve, and he gave the smallest nod.

“Say it out loud for me,” you urged gently, fingers drumming softly on the back of the chair.

“H-he’s Captain America,” Brandon whispered, voice weak, almost like he wasn’t sure if saying it would make it more real.

“That’s right,” you said, offering a small smile. “Good. That’s good, Brandon. You’re thinking straight.” You pointed with a lazy flick of your finger at Steve. “And do you really think Captain America of all people is going to hurt you?”

“No.”

“Good. But those other two—” you jerked your thumb toward Sam and Bucky, your voice dipping into dry humour, “—those ones you wanna watch out for. Absolute wildcards.”

It earned you a quiet snort from Sam, and Bucky’s mouth twitched, but Brandon let out a breath that was almost a laugh. His face was pale, but some of the sheer panic had started to ease at the edges.

But the hyperventilating wasn’t gone. His chest was rising too fast again, his eyes darting around the room like he couldn’t help it.

“Hey, hey. Just breathe.” Your voice stayed patient, casual but focused, like you had all the time in the world. “I just need to ask you a few questions. Can you handle that?”

Brandon’s throat bobbed with a hard swallow. His wide eyes glistened beneath the overhead light, flicking between you and the silent figures of Steve, Sam, and Bucky like a cornered animal. Though, it wasn’t the wild panic of a man about to bolt. It was something else. Defeat, maybe. The heavy, sinking weight of realising he was out of moves.

His mouth opened, shaky. Closed. Opened again. He wet his lips, voice barely a whisper.

“They’re gonna kill me if I snitch—”

“Who’s gonna kill you?” Steve’s voice cut in, instinctively taking a step forward.

You lifted a hand, a silent hold up, and Steve froze mid-stride, eyeing you warily but ultimately submitted to your lead.

You exhaled slowly, studying Brandon, the trembling hands on his knees, the sheen of sweat at his temple, the way his leg bounced like he might still have been weighing the odds of making a run for it. Your head tilted, voice dropping just a hair softer.

“How about this,” you hummed thoughtfully. “I tell you what we know… and you help me fill in the gaps, hm?”

Brandon blinked, uncertain, but you saw the subtle slump of his shoulders. “O-okay…” he croaked.

“You’re from a middle-class family. Did well in school. Kept your head down. Got all A’s in college, IT, tech stuff, right?”

His eyes widened. He glanced at Sam like maybe he’d confessed those details without realising. Sam just arched a brow, impressed despite himself.

“You got into cryptocurrency to make a little money on the side…” You continued, your tone easy, conversational. “And that’s when Karpin found you. Asked you to help him move his money until it was basically untrackable. Paid you more than you’d ever seen in your life to keep quiet and work with his buyers.”

Brandon’s mouth parted, but nothing came out.

“You probably don’t even know what he’s really selling,” you added, shrugging lightly. “Just that it’s illegal. Because you’re smart, you could see it a mile off. But you didn’t ask. Why would you? You’re making more money than you ever dreamed of.” Your gaze swept the room, the expensive furniture, the sleek floors, and the view of the ocean just beyond the windows. “Beachfront property? At your age? You’re making more than most people see in a lifetime.”

Brandon gave the faintest, almost imperceptible nod.

“But now you don’t want to talk. Not to us. Not to anyone. Because Karpin’s dangerous, right?” You softened the words further. “Because he told you as much, because you know you’re in deep…Because he threatened you. Maybe even people you care about, said if you ever ratted him out, it wouldn’t end with just you?”

That hadn’t been in the brief, but you’d spent enough time in Karpin’s club, in his VIP rooms, hanging off his arm like his latest pet to know his game.

You didn’t even need to hear the confirmation from Brandon, just one look in his glassy eyes told you the truth. You were right. Your eyes flickered over to Sam and Steve, watching as they exchanged a look.

Bucky hadn’t moved, leaned quietly against the doorway, face carefully neutral. But his eyes—oh, his eyes tracked every word, every shift of your body. And though his mouth was set in a firm line, there was something under it. A shameless flicker of pride. That soft, secret warmth, like he was quietly glad to see you work your magic.

Brandon’s breath rattled, his fingers fisting the fabric of his shorts. His wide eyes darted from you to Steve, then to Sam, as if one of them might swoop in and end this interrogation—or maybe mercifully his life. His voice cracked as the words tumbled out in a rush.

“I didn’t know, I swear! I mean, I knew—I knew it had to be something illegal, but not this illegal! I thought it was just drugs or something!” His chest heaved, breath coming fast again, panic starting to claw its way back up his throat.

“Hey.” Your voice cut through the rising spiral of his fear, leaving no room for argument. “We’re not here to decide if you’re guilty or not. That’s not why we’re here. We want to talk to you about one of the buyers, the one Karpin does the majority of his sales to. Do you know who I’m talking about? The Russian?”

Brandon hesitated, throat working as he swallowed. “Yes…”

“Good.” You hummed, slow and encouraging. “I need you to tell me anything you know about him. A name, a bank number, an address. Anything you can give us.”

Brandon’s shoulders hunched, his head shaking, wild-eyed. “I can’t—”

“Why?” you pressed.

“Because… because they’ll kill me!” He burst out, breath hitching again. “If it’s this bad, if it’s really this bad, I know they’ll hunt me down if I say anything—”

“They’re not going to be able to reach you, Brandon.”

His head snapped up, desperation shining in his eyes. “How can you guarantee that?!”

You sat a little straighter, drawing in a slow breath yourself. You knew the feeling currently roaring through Brandon’s veins, you recognised it like an old enemy. The panic, the sick weight of fear coiled tight beneath your ribs. The terror of the unknown. It was like wading blind through pitch-dark water, searching for a foothold, for anything solid to cling to, with no promise of light ahead. You’d felt it too many times before, felt it in your bones, felt it define you. And like every time before, your mind scrambled to make sense of it, to wrestle the chaos into something you could control. But how could you, when you didn’t even know the shape of the fight you were facing? How could you rationalise the storm without knowing where it might end, or if it ever would?

If only, you thought bitterly, if only you’d had the foresight back then. The knowledge. The map that would’ve let you navigate those shadows instead of stumbling through them, bruised and broken.

You knew exactly what the kid needed to hear.

“Do you want me to explain what’s going to happen to you after this conversation?”

Brandon nodded wordlessly.

“The police are going to come.” You reassured, recognising the instant dread in the kid’s wide eyes. “They’re going to arrest you, not hurt you. They’re going to keep you in custody while Karpin and his buyers are investigated, tracked down, and arrested. You’ll be safe. No one can get to you inside.”

“You’ll hire a lawyer,” you continued, voice even, matter-of-fact. “And that lawyer is going to tell you to take a plea deal. That means you’ll testify against Karpin. The deal might mean you walk free under witness protection, or maybe you serve a few years, but nowhere near as much trouble as if you stonewall us now.”

You smiled softly, leaning forward, lowering your voice to a comforting hum. “Brandon, all you need to do is cooperate with us.”

He blinked hard, tears threatening now, though he fought them, swallowing against the lump in his throat. “I’ll be protected? Will my family be protected? You’re sure?”

“If you help us?” You shrugged, glancing at Steve and Sam. “You’ll be protected. So will your family. By the people we work for. There’s no shame in having made a mistake, Brandon. You think we’re innocent?”

Your grin tilted, dry and a little wry as you thumbed toward the guys. “These three destroy half of New York every other week, and you think people are just fine with it?”

Sam gave a short huff of laughter, shaking his head. Steve smirked faintly, arms crossed over his chest, watching the way you worked with no small amount of admiration.

“We can do what we do because we have the right friends in the right places,” you went on, gaze locked steady on Brandon’s. “If you tell us what we need to know, we’ll make sure you and your loved ones are protected. That’s a promise.”

Brandon let out a shaky breath, the tension bleeding from his frame, if only slightly. He swiped the back of his hand across his damp face, voice rough as he finally nodded.

“O-okay. Okay. I’ll help.”

—

The mission had wrapped up without much fuss once Brandon finally cracked. A little breathing room, a few well-placed reassurances and the kid had spilt more than you’d hoped for. And after a long morning of waiting and watching, the team had been cleared to stand down. The beach house, a backup in case the op had dragged on, was yours for the night. No one had expected things to go so smoothly, but no one was about to complain either.

Now, with the sun bleeding gold over the horizon and the promise of an early flight hanging over your heads, you were determined to steal a few hours of peace.

You lay stretched out on a sunbleached towel at the base of the porch, toes buried in the warm sand. The last of the afternoon rays bathed the world in honey light, glinting off the waves as they lapped the shore. The ocean breeze lifted your hair and carried with it the brine of the sea, the faint tang of salt settling on your skin where the sweat had dried in the heat. You tilted your face up now and then, soaking in what little warmth was left, letting your eyes fall half-shut.

The beach house itself was small and sweet, worn blue paint with white trim, seashells lining the windowsills, wind chimes and catchers swaying and singing softly in the breeze. The kind of place that felt like it belonged to the sea as much as to the people.

On the porch steps, Bucky sat like a man trying to blend into the scenery. His arms rested heavily on his thighs, his boots planted solidly on the wood. There was tension in him, subtle but sure. He watched the waves, mostly. Sometimes he watched you. His gaze would flicker your way when he thought you weren’t looking, then back out to the horizon like it could give him answers. He’d tried the sand once, made it a few steps before muttering something about not wanting it grinding into the plates of his arms. The steps were his compromise, close enough to be near you, far enough to avoid what unsettled him.

Steve and Sam had gone into town, promising a dinner worth eating—something fresh, not from a takeaway joint or gas station, which was the usual menu for missions, especially stakeouts—before you all shipped out at dawn. The house, the beach, the world itself felt hushed in their absence. Just the occasional cry of gulls, the gentle crash of waves, and the music of chimes above.

It was Bucky who broke the quiet first. His voice was almost tentative, as if he’d been sitting with the thought some time before letting it out.

“You were good with that kid today.”

You cracked one eye open, shading it with your hand from the sun. The breeze caught his hair, tugged at the soft cotton of his shirt, ruffled the hem where his sleeves strained over the gold and black glint of vibranium.

“You’re good at talking to people,” he went on, not looking at you now, but at some fixed point beyond the waves. “Understanding them.”

A soft, tired huff escaped you. You let your eyes fall closed again, the sun warm on your cheeks. “What I understand about people is that everyone wants kindness. That’s all. They want to be seen, heard, given a little grace.”

You let your head loll to the side, gaze following the slow roll of the sea. His eyes were on you again, you could feel it, watching, like he was trying to piece you together, to see past the practised ease of your words.

“How did you know all that?” he asked after a beat, quieter now. “About lawyers, plea deals, witness protection?”

Your lips curved, a wry, sad little smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I lied.”

You felt him shift. His boots creaked against the steps, his spine straightening. “You lied?”

You rolled onto your back, brushing the sand from your skin, fingers playing idly at the tie of your bikini. “I told him what I knew he wanted to hear. That’s all. A kid like that, scared, cornered…He responded well to knowledge. It doesn’t matter if I don’t know what they’re gonna offer him, maybe they will offer him a plea deal, but at least he won’t feel like he’s in the dark.”

The breeze tugged at the chimes again, the gentle clatter filling the quiet that followed. Bucky didn’t speak, just watched you, thoughtful, a crease between his brows. His gaze was steady now, no longer flickering away like he was seeing something in you that you didn’t want him to.

“I just…” His voice was gentler now, but insistent. “I just think that version of you, the one who talked that kid down, the version I know... sometimes I think it’s the real you.”

You turned to him properly then, one hand propping you up, the other shading your eyes against the glare. “The real me—Jesus. Are we doing this right now?”

Bucky didn’t flinch, didn’t look away.

“I think they’re still in your head,” he said simply. “The same way… the same way H.Y.D.R.A is still in my head. You just wear the mask better. Pretend better. It took me too long to see it, but now I do, and I can’t unsee it.”

The air left your lungs like you’d been tackled from behind, a cold rush tearing through your veins, leaving you sick and hollow at the centre. H.Y.D.R.A. Bucky almost never said it aloud. That name lived in the shadows. But now he had given voice to it, like he was fucking invoking it.

You stared at him, heart tight, the sincerity in his voice cutting deeper than you expected. He was right. Of course, he was right. There had been far too many occasions where he had seen through you, seen through the walls, the humour, the deflection—and for what? For you to be afraid, to continue to pretend, to deny him entry to the truth you both knew he had already discovered?

“What are you trying to say, Bucky?”

He hesitated, just for a breath, as if he was weighing his following words before he went all in. “Why are you still in this job?”

Your pulse spiked.

“Because it’s what I’m good at?” you snapped back, a little too fast, a little too brittle.

“Bullshit.”

You sat up fully now, towel forgotten beneath you, heat rising to your cheeks. Whether it was anger or shame, you weren’t too sure anymore.

“What do you want me to say?” Your hands lifted, fingers splayed in frustration. “This is all I know, this is what I was trained for. There is no other alternative, and you of all people should understand that.”

There was a pause. A longer one than you expected.

“Do you know what Sam said to me after today?” His eyes met yours, sharp, intent, almost fierce in their focus. It pinned you where you sat. “He said, ‘I think I finally get what the hell those lessons were about’. He saw it. He saw you. The way you connect, the way you see people. I think you’re far more than what you limit yourself to.”

You let out a breath that tasted of defeat, bitter at the back of your throat. Or maybe it was a laugh. You couldn’t tell anymore. “I do this job because I want to make a difference, Bucky. Maybe I want to make a difference because no one ever tried to help me, or Nat or Yelena. We had to help ourselves.”

“And you think the only way to do that is by tearing yourself apart in the process?”

You snorted, shaking your head, though the motion felt heavy. “Tough words coming from you.”

He huffed his own small laugh, but there was no humour in it.

“I just…” His voice was lower now, the edge of frustration softening into something that sounded almost like pleading. “You really plan on doing those missions forever? The ones where you use your body to get information? I see how it weighs on you. How it tears you down piece by piece.”

You dug your fingers into the towel beneath you, staring at a seashell half-buried in the sand—anything to avoid the look in his eyes.

“What am I supposed to do instead, huh?” Your voice was tight, controlled, though you could feel the cracks forming, the storm just below the surface. “I’m good at what I do. That’s why I do it. I know how to get what the team needs. I know how to play the part, no one expects me to be anything else. So I stay in that box, because it works. End of story.”

Bucky was shaking his head before you had even finished your stubborn spiel.

“I think you have more potential. I think you get people. Really get them, in ways none of us do. You always say the right thing, know how to calm a room, and make people feel seen. I think you’re wasting that, wasting you, because you’re too afraid to ask for more.”

You forced a laugh. “Bucky, just because I’m nice to you doesn’t mean I’m good with people—”

“Steve told me what you said that day,” Bucky cut over you, quiet but unyielding. “What you said when he walked in on us. He told me how genuine you were. How much you cared. Said he never expected it, not from you.”

For a moment, your throat closed up tight as your mind skidded, fishtailing toward anything that might sound coherent.

“This all just sounds like you’re the one who’s got a problem with my line of work,” you said finally, trying for lightness, humour, anything to take the weight out of his words. “What, you jealous or something?”

But the joke fell flat between you. Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver. His voice carried an assured edge like he was giving up hiding behind anything. “No. I think you have a problem with it.”

Your breath snagged, ribs pressing in tight like you’d sucker punched.

“I think you’re destroying yourself,” Bucky went on, tone stripped bare, nothing left but truth. “I think, deep down, you’re punishing yourself. And I don’t know why. Or what for, but I know the signs, doll. Because I do the same damn thing.”

You stared at him, heart hammering. The wind stirred between you, the gulls cawing above and the hush of the surf. The world felt too still, too intimate, like the air itself was holding its breath.

“Where is this coming from?” you managed, voice smaller than you intended.

He let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe because watching you today, watching you work, impressed me. I know it impressed Steve and Sam. Maybe it just got me thinking about how things could be. How things should be.”

“I don’t want things to change,” you said, too fast, too sharp. “I like it how it is now.”

“Oh yeah?” His gaze still unflinching. “And what about all this makes you so happy?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Swallowed hard.

“You,” you said quietly, bitter as the ocean air. “You make me happy. I like helping you and talking things out with you. I like lessons, or when we just hang out.”

Your voice softened, as if that could make it truer. “I’m comfortable. I’m happy.” But even as the words left your lips, they curdled. They felt wrong. Hollow, like smoke in your mouth, like ash on your tongue. And you knew—God, you knew—he could see it. He could see right through it, through you.

Deflect. Deny. Subvert. The old playbook. Your armour, your sanctuary. The instinct that came too easily, a reflex honed by years of keeping the world at bay. You reached for it like a lifeline, tried to wrap it around yourself before he could press further, before he could dig up what you’d buried so deep even you barely dared look at it. Anything was easier than letting him see the soft, frightened parts. Anything was easier than letting him reach them.

You sat still for a heartbeat longer, the weight of his gaze heavy as a hand at the base of your throat. And then you moved. You pushed up from your towel, brushing sand from your palms as you crossed the short distance to where Bucky sat, stiff and watchful on the porch steps, his eyes lifted to yours, wide and unsure, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d strike him down or pull him in.

You lowered yourself, just enough to meet him, just enough to cage his face between your sand-dusted hands. You knew the grit would drive him a little mad, would catch in his stubble, smudge across his cheekbones, probably lodge itself somewhere in the joints of his vibranium arm. But you did it anyway. You did it because it was the only way you knew how to say what wouldn’t form on your tongue.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you murmured, voice low, breath hitching in your chest. The wind tugged at your hair, lifting it from the damp heat of your neck. Your thumbs traced his cheekbones, light as the breeze. “Is that okay?”

His lips parted, maybe in a silent plea. “Yes.”

It wasn’t neat or gentle. It was messy, hungry, your mouth slanting over his, tongue sliding past his lips as he groaned low in his throat. His hands came up, tentative at first, like he didn’t know where to touch you. Then the dam broke, and his fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you closer, his other hand bracing your hip. The taste of him was salt and heat, the faint bitterness of coffee from earlier lingering on his tongue. Your breath mingled, quick and uneven, as you poured everything into it, the frustration, the fear, the need.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. The windchimes clattered softly, like they’d been eavesdropping on the whole thing.

You gave him a look—part promise, part challenge—and turned, heading inside. You knew it was wrong. Christ, maybe he knew it too. Knew that this was what you did when the truth got too close, when his gaze stripped you bare and the panic rose sharp beneath your skin. You’d reach for what you knew worked. The kiss, the heat, the distraction. Anything but the raw honesty of what was unfolding between you.

Your bare feet padded across the worn wooden floors, the little beach house warm with the last of the sun’s heat. You shook out your towel by the door, brushed sand from your legs and arms as best you could, then made for the tiny kitchen, rinsing your gritty hands under the tap.

You were just reaching for a towel to dry your hands when you felt him behind you, the silent, solid press of his body, the familiar weight of his hands wrapping around your waist. His fingers splayed across your bare skin, like he wasn’t sure how close he was allowed to be but couldn’t stay away. His breath was warm against your ear, his nose brushing along the curve of your neck as he nuzzled there, the stubble of his jaw rough but welcome.

“I’m not trying to upset you,” Bucky murmured, voice low and earnest, the words vibrating against your skin. “I’m not trying to argue. I just care about you.”

“I know.” The words barely made it past your lips as you turned in his arms.

His hands framed your face, his mouth on yours. His thumb brushed your cheek, his other hand slipping down to your waist like he knew the shape of you by heart. The scent of salt air clung to him, to you. The kitchen felt impossibly small, the world shrinking down to just this. Just him, just now.

When he finally pulled back, breath warm against your lips, his forehead rested lightly against yours. “You make me happy too, you know,” he murmured, an honest confession. “More than I think you even realise.”

Your heart gave a traitorous lurch, and you swallowed hard, your hands still resting at his sides, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Don’t say things like that,” you whispered, but there was no bite to it, no real protest.

“Why not?” His mouth quirked into a soft, crooked smile. “’Cause you might believe me?”

You let out a breath, half laugh, half sigh, leaning into him. “Hmph…”

His mouth found yours again, slow and searching. His thumb kept stroking your cheek, tenderly, while his other hand slipped lower, fingers curling around the curve of your hips as if to steady himself as much as you.

The worn floorboards creaked softly beneath you both as you shifted, as he nudged closer, fitting his body to yours like a puzzle piece. The scent of him—spearmint, sea salt, the faint leather tang of his jacket still clinging to him—filled your senses, dizzying in its familiarity.

Your hands slid up his chest, fingers splaying over the hard lines of muscle beneath the soft cotton. His heartbeat thudded steadily and sure beneath your palm.

Without thinking, without planning, you found your back hitting the edge of the counter. His hands followed the movement instinctively, guiding, steadying, as you hitched yourself up onto the worn wood.

Bucky stepped in, between your parted legs, his hands finding your thighs, thumbs tracing slow, absent circles over your skin. His lips sought yours again, deeper now, as if he couldn’t get close enough. And you let him, you gave yourself over to it, to him. Your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer, greedy for his touch, his taste.

The kiss deepened, your breath mingling, your pulse thundering in your ears. Your hand skimmed lower, a slow, teasing path along his stomach, until your fingers brushed under the edge of his waistband, intent on taking control the way you always did, the way that felt safe and predictable. A soft sound escaped you, half a plea, half a groan.

He stopped you, catching your wrist gently just as your palm began to slip beneath the fabric. When you looked up, his blue eyes met yours, dark with heat, yes, but steady. Sure.

“No,” Bucky said, voice low, roughened by want, thumb brushing your wrist. “I want to make you feel good.”

You stilled.

Pure, unfiltered, raw panic slammed through your gut like a punch you didn’t see coming. It rose fast, too fast, thick and all-consuming, choking the breath in your throat. The edges of the kitchen blurred, vision tunnelling to just him. The closeness of his body, the heat of him, the solid press of the cabinet at your back—

You dragged in a breath, but it scraped through your chest ragged and raw. Metallic fear coated your tongue, your pulse roaring too loudly in your ears to even think.

Your free hand twitched, half-formed in the start of that signal—the three taps. You could feel the ghost of it against his arm already, your fingertips itching to retreat into that small mercy, that lifeline you’d always given each other without question.

But you didn’t. God, you didn’t.

Because if you did, this would change. He would see. He would know. And then the questions would come, the soft ones, the careful ones, the ones that peeled you open in ways that scared you more than anything. And what then? What would become of you?

No. No, you couldn’t let that happen. The thought made your heart pound harder, made your throat burn. You needed to do this. Needed to show him, show yourself, that you were fine. That you weren’t broken. This was different. He was different. That you could be the person he saw when he looked at you, brave, whole, unflinching.

Even if inside you felt like you were unravelling at the seams.

Your breath shuddered as you forced it deeper, trying to steady the wild beat of your heart. You blinked hard, trying to clear the haze creeping at the edges of your vision, trying to quiet the voice in your head screaming. And you clung to him, to Bucky—

Your Bucky.

He could never hurt you.

You swallowed hard, trying to drown the panic, trying to push it down where he couldn’t see. You could do this. You would do this. You trusted him. More than anyone.

“Can I make you feel good, doll?” His voice was soft, low, threaded with something that almost sounded like hope. His palm glided slowly up your forearm, warm and steady, the rasp of his calloused skin grounding. He didn’t see the storm behind your eyes, didn’t feel the stone lodged deep in your gut.

“Is that what you want?” You whispered, your voice hoarse.

“Yes.” The word came out on a breath, “more than anything.”

And for a moment—just a moment—fear loosened its grip.

Your mind spun back, unbidden, to all the nights you’d lain awake wanting this, wanting him. The ache of it. The sleepless hours where your hand found your own skin, your own heat, and you pretended, just for a heartbeat, that it was his touch. You thought of the months you and Bucky hadn’t spoken, how that want had burned hotter because of it, how his absence had left you hollow and restless.

And now here he was. His body so close, his hands gentle where they held you. And you remembered every time he had touched you. His hesitance, his tenderness, his devotion hidden in the brush of knuckles, the graze of fingertips.

It stirred a molten heat in your gut, one more welcome than panic.

“Yes.” The word tore from you roughly, your forehead tipping to his, your eyes fluttering shut as frustration and need coiled tight inside you.

You felt his breath hitch, felt the tremor, the hesitation in his hands even as they touched you, almost shy as they smoothed along your exposed thighs. His breath was warm against your cheek, his lips hovering just near your jaw, like he wasn’t sure he had permission to go further, like he didn’t trust himself to do this right.

“Bucky…” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair, coaxing him to look at you. His gaze flicked up, blue eyes wide, the vulnerability in them making your heart squeeze. His palms were broad and heated where they held you, but they trembled ever so slightly, like the weight of wanting was almost too much to bear. “Are you sure?”

“I—” His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his thumb tracing slow circles just above your waistband. “I just don’t want to mess this up.”

The honesty in his voice, the way it cracked around the edges, nearly undid you. You cupped his face, feeling the prickle of stubble under your palms and the tension coiled in his jaw.

“You won’t,” you murmured, stroking softly beneath his eyes. “You can’t. Just… touch me. However you want. I’m right here.”

Something within him eased, you felt it against your mouth as you leaned in, trying to pour every bit of reassurance into the slide of your lips. His hands roamed more boldly, exploring the dip of your waist, the curve of your thigh. It felt like worship the way he took his time, mapping your skin, committing it to memory.

The heat built between you, slow and consuming, and the edge of panic drowned out. You arched into him as his mouth followed, kisses pressing into the sensitive hollow beneath your ear, down the line of your neck. The small kitchen disappeared, the world narrowing again until it was just him, just this. His hands moved as if guided by instinct now, though there was still that delicious edge of hesitance that made every touch precious. His hand skimmed lower, calloused pads slipping beneath the thin band of your swimsuit bottom. You gasped, fingers fisting in his shirt.

And for the first time in far too long, maybe in your entire life, fear didn’t spike. You didn’t choke, you melted—

His breath stuttered, and he froze just over your mound. His forehead rested against your shoulder, his voice uncertain. “Tell me what to do, doll. I want to—I just… I don’t want to hurt you.”

You smiled, the kind of soft, private smile only he ever got to see. Your fingers found his wrist gently, guiding his hand down, slipping it fully beneath the fabric, where you were already warm and wet for him. “You’re not gonna hurt me. You’re perfect. Just… slow. Start slow.”

You saw his lips part, saw his pupils blow wide, felt the tremor in his fingers as they touched you where you wanted him most. His gaze flicked to yours, awed, wrecked.

“That’s good,” you breathed, the words tumbling out on a shaky exhale as your heart thundered against your ribs. Your hips moved instinctively, chasing his touch, tilting into him, desperate for more. “That’s so good, Bucky…”

His fingers trembled, tentative but eager as he explored. He traced the slick heat of you, learning every reaction, every way your body responded to his touch. Your hand slid over his, guiding him gently.

“Here,” you whispered, voice thick with want. His breath stuttered as his fingertips grazed your clit. “Feel that? That’s where I want you.”

A shaky breath left him, and he followed, so careful it made your heart ache. Your own nervousness forgotten, you arched a little, legs falling open wider, encouraging him. “You’re not gonna hurt me. I promise. I want this. I want you.”

That seemed to steady him. His fingers slid through your slick heat, finding your clit again. You shivered. But still, he hesitated, waiting, watching your face.

“Circle it,” you murmured, voice low and pleading, your hand tangling in his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as you gently urged him on. “Gently. Like this…” You rocked your hips, showing him the rhythm, slow and steady, letting him feel how you moved beneath him. And God, he followed, so tentative at first, testing, learning, then growing surer as he felt your breath hitch, your body tense, your pulse race beneath his hands.

“That’s it,” you gasped, pleasure building, slow and deep, coiling low in your belly. “Good. Fuck, that’s good Bucky.”

The praise tumbled from your lips, and it only seemed to fuel him. His fingers moved with more purpose now, every breath, every sigh from you making him more confident. His thumb found a rhythm, steady and sure, as two fingers slid inside you, filling you, and the low groan that broke from him when he felt you clench around him made the heat bloom hotter, deeper.

He buried his face against your neck, nose brushing your skin, breath warm and ragged in your ear. You kept guiding him, your voice cracking as a pleasured sob bubbled in your chest. “That’s good—Please just…You’re doing so well, Bucky. So well.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself just feel. Let him take control, knowing he would never misuse it.

Every time you gasped or sighed his name, you felt him react, his body pressed closer, his kisses growing hungrier, his fingers more confident. His vibranium hand anchored at your waist, holding you steady as he worked you. His mouth brushed your ear.

“You’re… so beautiful like this,” he managed, voice rough, as if the sight of you unravelled him.

Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut, the world outside the two of you blurring to nothing. The kitchen, the sea breeze, the clatter of seashell chimes, all of it faded, lost beneath the crash of pleasure building inside you. His thumb kept that perfect rhythm, his fingers filling you, stroking you. Your hips rolled, chasing him as you found yourself already trembling on edge.

You tried to keep guiding him, tried to tell him how perfect it was, how right, but the words blurred as the pleasure built, as he guided you through every tremble, every sharp breath, every subtle roll of your hips.

“You feel so good,” he muttered, voice wrecked, lips brushing your jaw, your ear. “So fuckin’ good like this…”

And then you couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but hold on as he pushed you over the edge, his name falling from your lips in a broken moan, toes curling, back arching, body trembling apart under his hand. Your breathing was ragged as Bucky’s fingers kept moving, slow and sure, guided by every gasp, every shiver he coaxed from you. His forehead pressed to yours, fingers gentle now, soothing you through the aftershocks. His focus was absolute, blue eyes darkened, intent, watching you like you were the only thing in the world worth seeing. And you were. To him, you always had been.

“I think I get it now,” he murmured, voice rough-edged, low like a secret.

Your lashes fluttered, your mind hazy with the pleasure he so patiently built inside you. “Hm?” you managed, head tipping forward. You opened your eyes to find him watching you, like you were the most incredible thing he’d ever seen.

Then, softly, with that mix of wonder and affection that always, always undid you, he spoke.

“Why you like watching me finish.” His voice was a rasp, reverent and wrecked all at once. And before you could reply—before you could even think—you watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth, slow and purposeful, tasting you, sucking his fingers clean with a soft, satisfied hum.

It was obscene.

Your body nearly gave out. You gripped the edge of the counter for support, chest rising and falling, heart pounding so hard it drowned out the sound of the sea and the chimes.

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered, dragging a shaky hand through your salt-tangled hair, trying to catch your breath. The strands clung to your damp skin. Your bikini bottoms were twisted at your hips, darkened with wetness, your thighs still trembling from the slow burn of his touch. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

---

hello! thank you for reading, let me know your thoughts! i no longer have a taglist because it got too long and was reaching the tag limit. if you want to keep being notified of my updates please follow @artficlly-updates and turn on post notifications! <3

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #beefy bucky #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel fic #thunderbolts*#marvel au #marvel #lessons in lovemaking

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thebubblesareevil · 2 days ago

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He’s not gay enough for superhell

Dc x dp dead on main:

Danny moves to Gotham for college and falls head over heels for the ecto contaminated beef cake in his English lit class.

He’s constantly tripping over himself anytime he’s around and wants nothing more than to grab his attention.

Now thanks to all Mr. Lancers hard work, Danny’s actually pretty good at English, but thanks to a certain walking distraction he starts to fall behind.

The first time he gets a D on a test he nearly sobs. Thankfully he has a merciful teacher that decided to help him out, so they asked Jason if he could tutor Danny so he could bring up his grades.

Unfortunately that doesn’t stop Danny from being an absolute mess, and an absolutely terrible flirt.

While discussing Jane Austin, Danny decides to just bite the bullet.

“So what would it take for someone to win your heart?” He asked with a dopey grin.

Jason snorted, “The Joker’s corpse.” He said, half paying attention before continuing on with the lesson.

Danny blinked, “uhhh, which one?”

Jason paused, “what do mean which one? There’s only one joker.” He looked at Danny like he was stupid.

Danny just shrugged, “well, yeah, now there is. But, like which corpse did you want? The first, 2nd, or 3rd joker?” He asked, giving Jason a dopey grin. “I can definitely get you the 2nd jokers corpse, the third is still active so he’d require some extra effort, but I may have a problem with the first Joker.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, “and why’s that?”

Danny shrugged, “oh Batman killed him years ago,” he paused, “well technically he didn’t land the final blow. He did however cause the concussion that caused him to stumble off a cliff, but he would have died from the internal bleeding anyway.” Danny explained, not understanding why Jason was so shocked but not at all mad about the attention.

“I’m pretty sure most of his body’s been eaten by the local wildlife at this point, but I can try to find his skull if you want?” Danny said, batting his eyelashes.

Jason just stared at him in shock. “How-how could you possibly know that!?!?”

Danny smiled, “oh, I have some friends that are constantly in and out of walker’s prison in the ghost zone. Apparently the guy won’t shut up about Batman and bragging about killing a Robin.” Danny frowned, “stupid move really, living or dead, people are rarely chill about child killers. Walkers had to put him in solitary just about every week.”

Jason huffed, “you expect me to believe Batman killed the Joker after he killed m-Robin and now he’s in ghost jail?”

“Well where did you think he would end up?” He rolled his eyes “He’s not gay enough for superhell.”

Jason just blinked. “Was that a Supernatural reference?” He smirked, making Danny blush.

“Uhh. Maybe?”

Jason smiled, “alright, prove to me that joker is dead and not only will I go on a date with you, I’ll introduce you to my family as my boyfriend.”

Danny turned bright red and beamed “Deal!”

An hour later Jason walked out of the weirdest prison he had ever seen with his new boyfriend and a new lease on life.

When Jason brought Danny home for dinner that night, they ended up eating without Bruce, as he was still frozen in shock by the front door after his son came in, introduced him to his new boyfriend as his dad and gave him a hug!

A real hug! A hug that lasted a full 30 seconds!

Danny wasn’t sure what was going on but he had a hot new boyfriend who was familiar with the ghost zone! He couldn’t wait to introduce him to clockwork!

#danny phantom #dc x dp #brain vomit #dead on main #there are multiple jokers #Bruce doesn’t know he killed the first one #Jason doesn’t care he’s just happy his dad avenged him #Danny’s a bit of an idiot but Jason likes it

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deliwrites · 1 day ago

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𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕆𝕦𝕣𝕤 // Saja Boys & Huntr/x

// DATE // 30th of June 2025 → 1st of July 2025 // PAIRING // Huntr/x x Fem!Reader x Saja Boys // WARNING // !!!Mention of a su*c*de attempt through song lyrics!!!, Morally gray actions, involuntary chocking, harassment, more award show shit that I struggle to write xD // WORDS // 3.3k+ // SUMMARY // At a music awards show, Y/n unexpectedly wins a coveted prize, thrusting her into the spotlight with a powerful, raw performance that captivates everyone — but behind the scenes, tensions simmer as old wounds and unseen dangers threaten to unravel her hard-won success.

// Part One // Part Two // Part Three //

“There are only a few awards left to be given to some truly incredible artists!” Minjun says almost like he’s sad it’s nearly over.

“Oh absolutely,” Seyeon nods enthusiastically. “You know what I look most forward to?”

“What��s that, Seyeon?”

“The performance the next winner will be giving us!”

“Oh my, you’re right!” Minjun gasps in playful realization. “And it’s for none other than the ‘Heartfelt Voice Award’! I hope you guys are ready to cry. Because I sure am!”

“Wait…” panic settles into my chest. “Can- can you guys-“ I can't finish as breathing becomes to difficult. Even if it wasn’t certain yet, I couldn’t stop the panic at having to perform so unexpectedly.

“What’s wrong?” Romance asks, noticing the fast rising and falling of my chest.

“-Undo it.”

“Undo what?” Miras voice is laced with worry.

“I- I,” I stammer, my eyes not leaving the hosts as an envelope is brought to them. Watching the envelope like I can see through it and read the name on it.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Rumi pulls me into her chest, grounding me. “Take a deep breath,” she takes one waiting for me to take one with her. Then gently lets it out, I do the same but mine is shaky. “Try again.”

“I can’t perform,” I whisper, voice trembling, shaking my head finally turning to look at her. “I can’t do this.”

“Sure you can!” Jinu says with a confident grin on his face. I just shake my head.

“Y/N!!” The shout of my name startles me. I freeze, eyes returning to the stage. My picture presented on the big screen. The hosts look somewhat puzzled. As do I.

There is polite clapping as Rumi gently nudges me to get up. I leave my small clutch with them, looking back at them as I hesitantly start walking. “You’ve got this!” Zoey says giving me two thumbs up, beaming.

“She wasn’t supposed to win,” it’s a grumble that she doesn’t hear while she slowly makes her way to the stage. But the others do. Eight pairs of eyes turn toward the voice. Jaewon. Staring daggers at the back of his head. None of them say anything… but the message is clear. Standing up, clapping louder than anyone else in the room. A push. A warning. And she needs it. Every last bit of it.

My legs feel like they might give out with every step I take, my heart still bounding in my chest. Once I reach the stage and am given the award I awkwardly stand in front of the mic. “Thank you, I-“ my words falter, my eyes meeting a glaring Jaewon. But then excited movement from above him brings a smile to my face. A wave, encouraging smiles and a nod that says ‘you can do this’ from Jinu. “I didn’t expect to win tonight,” I say honestly. “But it is truly an honor, thank you so much to those who listen to my songs, support me and especially voted tonight,” looking at the award as the words settle within me. “Really… thank you,” Stepping back from the mic I’m met with more applause a bit more sincere this time.

“Let me take that real quick,” Seyeon says gently, taking the award from my hands. “Good luck!” With that she and Minjun disappear at the side of the stage. The lights dim just enough to shift the mood, and then my song starts playing. Closing my eyes, I take one last breath and sing.

Finally hit the ground I'm at the bottom now Never thought I could be this low Felt like falling down an endless hole No, I don't see the light And I don't hear God Crawling in the dark Now my limbs are cold Screaming out "Help" but it just echoes

A silence falls over the room. Everyone listening with bated breath. All consumed by the unexpected depth of my voice. By the ache woven into every note, the weight of words no one dares to speak out loud.

Only one way out of here I don't think I can reach it Everything I hold dear Erased by all of my demons My sorry is sincere I've just lost all of my reasons Reasons left to stay

When I open my eyes, I’m stunned to find I’ve become the center of attention. No one is talking, everyone is quite literally staring. Wide eyed, stunned faces, confused but pleasantly surprised. As if they expected a whisper but got a storm.

So, if this is goodbye Please, don't count my cry as a sin No, I don't wanna die But it keeps getting harder to live And I put up a fight But now I've got nothing to give So, if this is goodbye, goodbye, goodbye I hope someday to see you again

The song is emotional and raw. It captures everyone in the room even the ones who didn’t know her before this very moment. She had already captured their attention when she walked in. Clumsy, quiet, walking with uncertainty. But hearing her sing this song live, it hit different.

It’s like a string got pulled tight between them and her. A need to protect. To have. To understand. And something more dangerous; an obsession.

There's nothing you could've said Nothing you could've done different It was always between me and my head Never meant to hurt you in the process But I just can't keep holding on Wish I could believe that things will get better Wish I could just flip a switch in my mind Then I could fix how I feel altogether Then I could mean it when I say I'm fine It's never that easy and neither is life Don't think I wanted to leave you behind I tried, I tried, I tried

This song, it wasn’t for Jaewon. That much was obvious. But who was it to?

The answer.

Herself.

So, if this is goodbye Please, don't count my cry as a sin No, I don't wanna die But it keeps getting harder to live And I put up a fight But now I've got nothing to give Nothing, nothing So, if this is goodbye, goodbye, goodbye I hope someday to see you again If this is goodbye I'll see you If this is goodbye Open up my eyes I don't know where I am And everything is blurry My mom's holding my hand Turns out I was in a hurry But God had other plans He said my goodbye was early Now I've got a second chance

I stood in pure silence for a moment. Everyone shocked at the emotional impact this song had on them. In the end a couple of tears were shed.

“That… was…” Seyeon enters the stage once more. Tissue in hand. Letting out a sigh as she shakes her head struggling to find the right word. “… beautiful,” is what she settles for. That seems to put the room back in motion as applause suddenly, loudly rings around the room.

Startled, tears gather in my eyes. “Thank you,” I smile through tears.

“This award,” Minjun starts as he too returns. Holding up my award. “Is extremely well deserved,” I thank them once more before exiting the stage. Climbing my way back up the stairs. I’m stared at, even get a bow here and there as I pass them. I bow back like I don’t deserve their respect.

When I get back to my seat Zoey and Rumi are crying while Mira is obviously holding back her tears.

“That was so… ethereal,” Zoey sniffles. Standing up to pull me in a hug. “You deserved this award! Even if you didn’t think so.”

Taking her phone from her clutch while she talked to the girls was almost too easy. Even when she sat back down she hadn’t noticed how Baby easily manipulated the device to unlock with his demon powers. First he found her phone number, saving it in his own phone.

The causality of how he handled it and the guys keeping her distracted made it go unnoticed for much longer. The guys had quickly noticed what their maknae was up to. Making sure he would get it done. Easily installing spying software, hiding it from her, but making sure it worked from his own device. It wasn’t about invading her privacy. It was about keeping her safe.

By the time she reached for her clutch again, it was back in it place, exactly where she thought she’d left it. Missing the pointed look Mira gave the maknae as if to tell him he better share what he finds.

“Wow,” I sigh, grabbing my clutch, using it as a fan. “Thank you,” glancing both ways trying to meet their eyes. As I thank them for their - undeserved - support. “I would not have been able to do that if it wasn’t for you,” a blush tinting my cheeks but I blame it on the heat in here. In reality there is air conditioning in the room making sure everyone was comfortable.

“Of course,” Abby smirks, but I know he’s genuine.

“It’s nothing, you needed a push,” Mira shrugs casually. “You deserved it.”

“Thank you, anyway,” I make sure they know I’m being sincere. “But I really need the bathroom now,” I chuckle awkwardly receiving understanding chuckles back. Getting up I follow the signs to the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, I take a moment to freshen up a bit, I look at myself in the mirror. A genuine smile still playing on my lips. “I did it,” I mutter, barely believing my own words. “I actually won.”

Taking my phone from my clutch, my notification wall is full. There are new followers on every social media platform I have. Mentions of my performance. Clips, screenshots, reactions. And of course all the posts the Saja Boys and Huntr/x created to support me and my song.

Mentions of my other songs too. People finding them, loving them. It makes me feel warm. Loved. Seen.

I exit the bathroom relax, distracted even. A bit too distracted apparently when I get the air literally knocked out of me. Pushed into the wall right at the archway to the venue hall.

“Wha-”

“Shut up!” I recognize the voice immediately. Anxiety lighting a fire in my being. Eyes wide, they find his. His face is contorted in anger. “You weren’t supposed to win,” his hand balls into a fist, rising, but he knows he’s still in public. Lowering the fist he grips my upper arm instead. Tight enough to create bruising, making me squirm and whine.

“Let go of me,” my voice is small. The fear in my eyes only making him chuckle.

“No, this is how you should have looked,” he continues, voices nearly growling the words at me. “I orchestrated this. Made sure you were nominated for a song no one even knew. Made it so you had to sit with those you looked up to,” tears form in my eyes. I knew it... I knew I shouldn’t have been here. His other hand lands on my shoulder, thumb laying at the base of my neck. Pressing hard, making it uncomfortable to talk or swallow.

It seems my arms decide that they now have the strength to try and push him away. But it doesn’t work. He’s stronger than me.

“You should have ran out of here, crying! Like the weakling you are,” his voice stays the same, unfazed by my trembling attempts to push him away from me. “How did you win?” there is real anger laced with genuine curiosity. Thumb pressing harder onto my throat.

“Because she deserves it,” the voice stuns both me and Jaewon. It’s Mystery. Before I can react, Jaewon quickly pulls me to his chest. I cough with the pressure now gone from my throat. He acts like he didn’t just have a bruising grip on me. Like all he wanted to do was hug me as a way to congratulate me on the win. Even if it was all a lie to protect his image.

The way Mystery was positioned had given Jaewon the false idea that no one had caught his cruel actions towards her. But Mystery knew. They all knew, even Huntr/x who were currently performing unable to protect what was theirs. Even if she didn’t know it yet.

“Oh, I wasn’t accusing,” Jaewon continues, feigning sincerity, but the sharp tone in his voice betrays him. “Congratulations on your win, Y/n,” the way he says my name. It's sharp and I know it’s a warning. Mystery takes my hand, pulling me closer to him so I’m not in Jaewon’s reach.

“Thanks,” it’s forced and breathless as it leaves my lips. I let Mystery lead me back to our seats. Trying to fake my confidence like nothing happened.

They all know something happened, but don’t point it out. From the way she walks and sits down stiffly. Trying to portray that genuine happiness she showed earlier. Only it doesn’t reach her eyes. They know now is not the time to talk about what they all witnessed. Instead, they watch quietly, guarding her in their own way.

The rest of the award show luckily goes by swimmingly. I hate to have to say goodbye to the eight who already meant a lot to me. Now more than I ever thought possible.

But I knew this was probably the first and only time I would get to talk to them. At least for a good while. The girls gave me a hug, squeezing me tightly. Letting me know once more that I deserved the win. I’m not sure how to say goodbye to the guys. Jinu just tsk’s, and pulls me in for a hug as well.

Even if he makes it seem nonchalant he can’t stop himself from breathing in her hair as she hugs him back.

Mystery makes sure to squeeze tightly, like a reminder that he’s there for her.

Baby playfully rolls his eyes at her, poking her sides to make her jump before giving his own hug. Gently petting the top of her head.

Abby smirks, teasing her. Saying that she only wants a hug so she can feel his abs. She chuckles genuinely, making all their hearts melt.

Last is Romance who will gladly take a hug, lingering for longer than needed. Placing a peck on her soft cheek, causing a soft flush to her face.

Missing the way the girls glare at the boys with envy.

My manager had been surprisingly quiet the next day. Normally he would start calling me the moment the sun woke.

Now it’s Monday, two days after the K-pop Rising Stars Awards. Still, it’s radio silence from my manager. I had messaged him myself to ask if he saw my win. He hadn’t even read it. Nothing.

With Luminara Entertainment right around the corner from the dorms, I headed there early. I needed answers. Arriving around 8 am, I waved at Juna at the reception desk. She smiled gently but there was something almost rehearsed in it. Shrugging off the feeling I head for the elevator making my way to Kyungsoo’s office.

Outside the office door I heard voices. So I at least knew he was in. Knocking softly on the wooden door, I wait. The conversation grew silent immediately. When Kyungsoo finally cracked the door open, his eyes barely met mine.

“Hey, I messaged, but I didn’t hear from you,” I tell him, confusion clear on my face. Partially because he’s just peeking out of a small slit in the door but mostly because I hadn’t heard from him.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” I can tell immediately that it’s not sincere. Voice flat, lacking his usually somewhat warmth. “I’ve just been really busy. Just continue working on your songs in the studio. I’ll check in with you soon,” before I could respond the door closed again.

Busy or not, it was clear I wasn’t a priority. He didn’t even congratulate me. Tension rose in my shoulders like something was up but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

His phone dings with a new familiar chime. Y/n opened her phone. Picking up his own from where it rested on the coffee table.

They had been given an off day after holding a concert on Sunday the day after the Award show. The five of them relaxing a bit. Though that wasn’t the only thing going on.

Mystery had done a full deep dive on Jaewon, turns out the only reason NIOR7 was doing as well as they were. Was because of daddy’s money.

Jinu, who sat next to Baby, recognized the sound too. All of them knew what it meant, having observed her activity since she left the venue. Including making sure she actually got home safe. Not leaving the outside of Luminara dorms until they saw her face in one of the windows.

A new message came in.

Jaewon Enjoying your win

She didn’t start typing, but didn’t move away from it either. Why had she not blocked him yet? As if she heard their thoughts, she excited the chat. Going to her blocked numbers. A list of at least seventeen blocked contacts showed up. All named Jaewon.

It didn’t matter whether she blocked him. He would just get a new number and keep tormenting her.

Jaewon Not for long, I'm sure

What does that even mean? What is he up to?

Abby who stood behind the couch looking at the screen with them. “I’ll call the girls.”

When they had gotten back to Honmoon Tower after making sure Y/n had gotten back safely. The girls insisted on making a pact. Not believing they would actually share everything with them if they didn’t make a pact. They vowed to keep each other updated on everything happening with Y/n. No secrets.

The pact sealed with a tattoo of a tiny flame appearing on their ribs as a reminder, and as punishment. If they were to forget to share something, important or not. The tattoo would slowly start burning, growing stronger the longer it takes. Only stopping when the information is shared.

All they heard was Abby saying ‘It’s about Y/n’ and they appeared in their living room. Worry clear on their faces. Dressed in gym clothes, a sheen of sweat covering their skin. Still a little breathless.

“What is it?” Zoey ask, finding a seat next to Baby as Abby hangs up the phone. Rolling his eyes at their appearance playfully.

“Jaewon, he just wont stop tormenting her,” Jinu explains. “I think it’s a threat but I can’t be sure,” taking Baby’s phone from him to show Jaewon’s last message to her.

“It has to be,” Mira confirms, obvious anger at the man harassing their girl. “What else can you do with this?” she asks, talking about the mirror image of Y/n’s phone.

“A lot,” Baby smirks. “When she’s asleep I can activate her phone and look through it.”

“And if she is using it? Can you listen to what she’s saying?”

“I could yeah,” Baby nods, going to the settings and activating the mic on her phone and the speaker on his own. Her voice immediately filling the space.

“What are you talking about?” I chuckle at the absurdity of my current situation. “You’re dropping me?”

“Yes, I am,” Kyungsoo says. There is uncertainty in his voice, his posture stiff. “Effective immediately.”

“What? But my contract-”

“It’s doesn’t matter,” he cuts me off. “Because of a morality clause. The label believes it’s best to part ways with the recent… controversies surrounding you.”

“Controversies? What controversies?” he avoids my gaze as I dig for more answers.

“That’s not for me to say,” he shrugs awkwardly casual. “You have 24 hours to get out of the dorms.”

“Twenty-fo- What? That’s not enough time! Where am I meant to go!?”

“You’ll figure it out,” with that he walks out, slamming the door to the studio.

“What?” my voice a quiet whisper as I sink back down onto the couch. “What am I gonna do?” I ask myself, my voice shaky.

Bzzz…. Bzzzz

Glancing at my phone which still sat on the coffee table where I left it when Kyungsoo came in.

Unknown Hey, how is your day? It’s Romance by the way.

// Part One // Part Two // Part Three //

Taglist:

@strayharmony943 @ghostlyworld @zariahthewitch @ateezswonderland @bunnytea10 @levifiance @katzline @ch1cky-093 @justanindiangirl12 @mxvoid26 @m-1mi @raineandcl0uds @mel3484 @apelepikozume @kangsae-byeokfan @zero-jpg @planetpearlsworld @sylus-h3ll @sy1ock

I hope everyone got tagged correctly!

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makeitworse · 3 days ago

Text

GOOD ONES

the good ones always go. and when it’s survival over shame— namgyu’s all you can afford.

contains: darkfic. dub/noncon themes. misogyny. harassment. yandere-ish namgyu. smut mentions. suicidal thoughts + attempt (me in the games tbh). 18+

based on a request from @iziiurnamguygirl

you don’t know what it is about you that’s always drawn their eyes. the bad ones.

the loud-mouthed rapper 230 and his rat-faced lackey 124, that is. thanos and namgyu you’ve come to learn. they’ve had their sights leeched onto you since day one in this godforsaken slaughter island. like they were attracted to the scent trail of your fear.

catcalls followed you like a second shadow. 230’s tongue practically slithered out every time you passed by, and 124 just stood there grinning, whispering shit behind his hand as they watched you on the bunks.

it was because of them that you clung to your group: the “marine” men, plus the loony 456 who had supposedly played these games before. you didn’t believe half of the shit he’d spout— but you did believe in strength in numbers. in protection. so that billy and stu over there couldn’t try anything in lights out, crawling into your bunk as you slept.

and then there was also 388— daeho. the ponytailed one, with the kind eyes and warm smile. he insisted that you went to school together— swore he could never forget a face like yours. he was practically glued to you by the hip, and for a while, you let him. even liked him, in some quiet way.

but oh, did namgyu not appreciate that.

you could feel it in the way his gaze seared into your skin across the dorm. in the way his laugh turned meaner when you passed by. how he’d shove his shoulder into daeho passing in the hallway. his hands twitching at his sides like he’s imagining them around your neck or on your thighs— either’s equally possible.

but then thanos dies. and what follows is a blood-soaked ripple of events.

the lights-out murders. the players revolted. your group dropped like flies. your daeho lost his nerve, reduced to a shaking, curled-up mess. protection was gone, danger was nigh.

so stupidly, maybe instinctively, you found yourself drifting to someone whose better interests are keeping you around. namgyu.

because bad men don’t run when it gets ugly. they stand tall, flourish in the gore with a smile. you didn’t need it gentle or genuine or good. you needed to stay alive. and namgyu, for his own fucked-up reasons, could deliver on that.

namgyu’s all teeth and jealousy. suffocatingly obsessive. from the moment you approach him, you have to ignore his crude quips about you finally coming around, not acting like a stuck-up bitch. you have to suppress the urge to roll your eyes, launch your fist at his face, kick your knee into his crotch, whatever. you just nod and smile. let his hands creep up your waist, fingers curl around the back of your neck. because your survival depends on it. because the prospect of fucking you is enough for namgyu to value your life in this next game.

“you’re one of the good ones, you know.” he had murmured, nails digging into the shirt fabric at your hip.

“i’ll change your mind about this—” he flicked a finger at the red cross patch on your tracksuit, snickering. “you’re gonna want to stay.”

he’s basically already fucking you with his eyes. you know what’s in store for you, once the lights dim. he even tells you as much.

“if only i knew where you were hiding…” he smirked, voice low as his fingers walked up your thigh. “i could’ve had a little fun with you.”

he practically corners you as he asks if you and daeho got up to anything— demanding to know if he’s getting some other man’s sloppy seconds.

and then he’s enticing you into popping a pill with him in the next breath.

“it’s fuckin’ crazy,” he crooned, holding out a rainbow-coloured tablet between his teeth.

you don’t take it then. but you don’t turn it down, either.

that night, with the next game looming on the horizon and your insides curled into knots, you caved. it’s far from out of want or trust. you let namgyu touch you, let him kiss you, hands wandering beneath the covers as his body curls around yours like a noose. you let him chew off that little piece of control.

because you needed him docile. needed him asleep.

so you swallow down the bile burning your throat when he stretches you open, hand wrapped around the base of your throat as he fucks into you. he only has his way for a few minutes— it doesn’t take long before he’s collapsing on top of you, panting at your ear.

and then once his breathing slows, lips slackening against your shoulder with a firm arm draped over your stomach, you moved.

carefully, silently, you reached for his necklace. unlatched the tiny silver cross, slipping out the pills tucked inside. four. enough, you thought. he takes two to feel good. four might let you sleep forever.

you held them in your palm, stared for a long time. you listen to his shallow breath beside you.

and you decide that yes— death is better than bedding this maniac just to live another day.

so no more thinking.

you briefly hear the sound of him rousing next to you, but you don’t care— not wasting another second in cupping your palm over your mouth, letting the pills fall onto your tongue.

and then there’s a hand flying out, roughly prying your jaw open.

“yah!” namgyu hisses, fingers intruding into your mouth as he fishes for the pills. one crumbles beneath your molar, bitter. another slides down your throat. he manages to claw the rest out— wet and glistening in his hand, soaked in saliva and shame.

he was on top of you then, straddling your hips. chest heaving with hard breaths. eyes blown wide and furious.

“don’t be fucking stupid,” he growled, snatching a fistful of your hair and jerking your head back. “you wanna break up that bad already?!”

you just gawked at him, heart drumming against your chest as the pills dissolve into your bloodstream.

“is that all this was?” he spits, face hovering over yours. “let me fuck you so i fall asleep easier? so you could off yourself right next to me like some kind of twisted fucking goodbye??”

you don’t answer. can’t.

he shook you by the shoulders. “i picked you, god-fucking-dammit. chose you over every other dog in this place.”

his mouth comes to just below your ear, and you shiver when his lips ghost over the skin.

but then he’s biting down, hard; hand flying out to clamp over your mouth as you thrash beneath him.

“you don’t get to leave me.” he hisses, thumb pressing into the teeth mark blooming onto your neck. a reminder.

“don’t fucking forget it.”

mlist · taglist 〃

@lightinbug @sherrayyyyy @namsgyu @riddlerloveb0t @ttturnitup @rafesbunniebby @nicaeno @ferrarifinnick @loveesiren @madebybec @avsarchivez @frontwomann @szonyix6277 @namgyooner @thanosspills

#squid game x reader #namgyu x reader #nam gyu x reader #squid game season 3 #squid game fanfic #squid game smut #namgyu smut #dark squid game #squid game x you #roh jae won #namgyu squid game

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asiatic-apple · 2 days ago

Note

Omg hii! Congrats on 200! I was wondering if the ask for the event is still open? I was hoping to ask for smut prompt 11 (quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials) with zayne. Thank you! I hope you're having a wonderful day! Congrats on 200!

Thank youuu 💕 Tbh I’m not sure if I captured zayne properly here since this is my first time writing smut for him 🙈 so please feel free to leave any constructive criticism. I hope this is to your liking though!

Mid-shift fix

Zayne x female reader

Prompt: quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials

Content: sex in a public place (no one sees it), slightly mean dom zayne, brat tamer zayne, “sweetheart” used as a pet name for reader, also he calls you a “brat” and a “naughty girl” (i’m sorry if this is an ick), creampie and pulling the panties over afterwards

Zayne should be diligently reviewing patient files. Instead, he’s got you pinned to the wall of his office, your panties hastily shoved to the side and your cunt squeezing around his cock with every ragged breath you take.

His crisp dress pants are barely pulled down. Your blouse is half unbuttoned from how frantically he’d fumbled to feel your skin. The only thing keeping you upright is his solid frame pressing you against the wall—and his harsh grip, fingers digging into one plush thigh as he keeps you wrapped tight around him. His other hand is braced against the wall beside your head, nearly clawing at it as he tries not to lose his mind completely.

“You have approximately five minutes,” he says sternly, even though his voice is rough with desire. “Make it count.”

You whimper, clinging to his shoulders and creasing his pristine white shirt. “You’re the one who interrupted our lunch together,” you tease breathlessly.

Zayne hums a low, humorless sound. “Because you were mouthing off all through lunch. Testing my patience.”

You try to retort, but the way he slams back inside you turns your words to a soft, garbled cry. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and sex, thanks to the sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies—and the coupling of your slick arousal that forms a creamy ring around his cock. He glides in and out of you too easily, the wet sound of it loud enough to make your skin prickle with the fear that someone passing by outside might hear the suspicious sounds.

“I can’t focus when there’s a brat in my office,” he says through gritted teeth, punctuating the statement with a sharp thrust that makes you moan. “But it seems you like to misbehave when you’re with me.”

His voice stays soft even in this moment, still measured and clinical as he reprimands you. It makes your spine go stiff and your cunt clench harder around him. He smirks when he feels it. “Such a naughty girl.”

Even though he teases you for being needy, you can feel him twitch inside you, getting closer with each delicious thrust. He groans against your neck, breath hot and uneven. When he’s this close to your skin, he can’t help but nip at it, leaving small love bites all over you.

“Your time is almost up, sweetheart,” he whispers near your ear, breath tickling your skin when he chuckles at your increasing whines.

Zayne slides a hand between your bodies to rub your clit in tight, punishing circles. It’s not slow or indulgent—just efficient, deliberate. It’s the way he does everything when he’s at work. Like he knows exactly how to get you to crumble in the least amount of time. And he’s succeeding.

“Be good for me now,” he mutters, pace increasing as your legs tremble around him. “Come on my cock so I can get back to work.”

You can’t help but listen when he gets like this—scarily authoritative in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. It’s clear he’s solely focused on punishing you with an orgasm that is too fast, too fleeting to fully satisfy you. And then he’ll send you home with a wet, sticky reminder of your misbehavior seeping through your panties and trailing down your thighs.

Still, you can’t stop the pleasure that rolls through you. Your body tenses, mouth open in a silent cry as your orgasm turns your body to jelly.

Zayne curses, biting his bottom lip to stay quiet, but his controlled thrusts falter with the way your walls flutter around him. He fucks you through it, chasing his own high now with quick, shallow thrusts. And then he buries himself deep and chants your name like a prayer as he pulses inside you.

For a long moment, he doesn’t move. He just leans into you, forehead resting against yours and breath fanning across your lips. His cum drips out of you in slow, warm rivulets the moment he pulls out with a soft groan. Then he carefully sets you down on shaky legs and pulls your panties back up over the mess to keep it all smeared against your puffy folds.

There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he fixes your skirt and blouse with those precise fingers of his. No matter how much you try, everyone will see how thoroughly fucked you are when you walk out of the hospital. But no one will dare say a word to the girlfriend of the esteemed Doctor Li.

“You should go,” he says quietly, already adjusting his own clothes and reaching for the files on his desk.

At first, you think he’s back to his usual cold, strictly professional self. But before you can turn, he cups your jaw and kisses you slowly. His lips mold against yours with more reverence than the clash of teeth from a few minutes ago. He has to use all his willpower to eventually pull away and leave you panting softly.

“I’ll text you when I’m done with work,” he says, brushing his thumb under your lip in a poor attempt to quell the desire to kiss you again. “I’ll be more thorough with your punishment when I come home.”

Want to be added to my tag list?

💕 tag list: @heartyluv @doeeyes515 @lethalasylum @starryeyed-apple @starlitfics @craeatio @rafayelslittlestar @ruralamours @alyssac9 @blushofeve @alastor-simp @nezuswritingdesk @yoonights @ashirelle @jamfingers @decadentwastelandpoetry @yrdarlingpup @asiaticapple @spidermanlaalalalala @partycityyyyyyy @raendarkfaerie @sweetcalebb @mikenotmic @jenvhae @kaeyasfuturewife @purpleamethyst25 @grapeees16 @pepitesingulare @opalesquegirl @bitewiththis

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dividers by me (please do not repost)

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ov105 · 3 days ago

Text

Tian

So, I just graduated. The reason for my absence was my undergrad thesis that kept me from really pursuing most hobbies. Though now I'm on my sort-of break before enrolling into another form of schooling. It feels good to be back!

5,191 words of Zhou Xinyu. Enjoy!

It was the end of summer, and the rain had begun to fall. Driving from city to city, town to town, watching each sign telling me hello and goodbye in the span of almost a blink. Perhaps the snacks we’ve eaten should’ve done the trick, but I can’t help but think that I should’ve gotten another helping of coffee. It didn’t help that I was driving a car almost just as old as we were, though maybe I should be glad it had a digital player, and not a dial one, to at least keep us company while I drove back.

Headlights on the road, I gave a glance at the dashboard, 00:15. We need to sleep now, I thought, yet that idea clashed with the idea that no, we need to make it by sunrise. Ignoring whether or not my passenger was only asleep, she must feel so lucky. I just sighed and tried to hum the song in my head, only to realize it was a slower ballad, and now it sounded like a lullaby.

I tried to remember what I had seen in the guidebook, remembering there was supposed to be a traveler's inn a few kilometers ahead. How much, hell if I knew.

I just sighed, maybe I could quietly pull over and sleep, though I didn’t want us to be a horror film victim, too. I was already lectured about not catching “get-there-itis” behind the wheel. I just muttered, thinking about how far I needed to drive, and went, “fuck.”

“Don’t you want to rest a bit?” Xinyu quipped.

“Hm?!” I replied.

“Pull over and take a nap,” she ordered, repeating herself much clearer now.

“In a bit, there’s an inn up ahead.”

“Are you sure it’s safe for us?” she asked.

I didn’t answer, but I understood her reservations because I shared them. I am sure I saw it a few times in the yellow guidebook, as for the budget inn part, we didn’t have any more money left from our stipend.

“Yes, it should be.”

It better be. She sighed as she opened the dash compartment and tried to read the map in the dark. Having stuck it out in a small field down south, a few northerner university students, tending to a small control field with a mentor, sounded stupid on paper. Yet, a government stipend was all that was needed to push this little journey to the south. Now, at the end of those 90, now 92, days, it was only me and Xinyu left to drive the rental back.

A relieved sigh and restrained elation overcame us when a weak neon sign appeared ahead. It clearly said “roadside inn.”

Everything else was procedural after that, I reversed the car in. Before Xinyu and I made our way in, we both agreed it looked pretty rundown, but then again the choice was: a creaky, dusty bed, or ending up in a ditch. Settling down wasn’t an issue at all, save for the madamé at the front desk staring at us for a second or two, backpacks and duffle bags in hand, before telling us water only comes by 7, and handing us a key whose tag we could barely read.

Opening the door, I just looked at Xinyu, a bit dejected. It was exactly what we paid for; a cheap, little room a few meters in size, slightly peeled walls, tall but with a weak fluorescent light, a stove and old cabinet, a bathroom with only a sink, a fan, and a hard bed only big enough for both of us.

“Well, we can’t complain now,” she shrugged.

“Just think about going to sleep,” I replied, dropping my things inside the cabinet. Xinyu followed. It was procedural, a haze, and took us only a few minutes to change, letting her wash up before we decided on our side of the bed. I decided to shower, but it took me a while to get the water going.

I did, however, feel a silent tension, a slight rocking of the boat, and uneasy eyes that quickly tried to rationalize and compose themselves. Maybe it was just the light novels or rumors getting to me, chuckling on the sink before I just washed my face and all that before I carefully got onto the bed. Xinyu had already turned off the lights, and I had stoked the small stove in the corner to keep us warm, using it as some crude nightlight. Hopefully, at least. A fair glow came from the fire that colored the room orange. It was better than pitch darkness in our last change of clothes.

“You’re not gonna tell them about this right?” I asked as I tried to read the map. She was blocking most of the light as we both sat up against the outer wall. It was just a bit colder than the fan.

“Huh, why would I?” Xinyu wondered, or maybe it was just me.

“Never mind, I mean, we’re classmates, it shouldn’t be a problem,” I deflected, trying to get myself out of the situation. Focus on the mag.

“Well, don’t make it awkward!” Xinyu snapped back, almost laughing at me.

“I’m not, it’s just you know, not a setup that usually happens. Not in our group at least.”

She slammed the hardcover and looked at me, puzzled. Fuck. “What?!”

“What?” I asked, folding my magazine, she had put her book down on the floor by now.

“I mean, let’s not lie,” Xinyu started, her eyes looking around for a bit, “You heard some of our classmates right?” before letting out a small giggle.

She leaned closer, and knowing I was one of the late sleepers, I knew what she meant.

“Yeah, they were doing it in the outhouse,” I flatly replied. I mean, I already had an inkling of the couple she was talking about. Though knowing the girl was one of Xinyu’s friends, she may have told her more intimate details. I could tell my passenger was one part curious and excited.

“I…I don’t know,” she began to stutter, then asked, “Isn’t it kind of thrilling?”

“I don’t know about him, they seemed shy the next morning. We all knew. I’m just glad our professor never noticed,” I replied, trying my best to hide my feelings. It sounded exciting because it sounded straight out of a rumor.

“Have you ever asked him about it?” Xinyu pressed on. I could notice she was inching closer.

“Yeah,” I broke and cackled a smile, “It was simple, sure, but you’re right to say it was thrilling.”

“Well? Tell me,” Xinyu prodded, noticeably growing more playful. I could just about scratch my head and not mix up the details of it. So I began, at least from what I remembered.

Xinyu and I weren’t that close, blockmates sure, but not at that deep end of what I consider friendship. Of course, no adversaries either, maybe a few group projects here and there, where her goofiness can shine through. I always thought that the campus, as privileged as we were to go inside every time, was not exactly a place to find love from your classmates. Yet here we were talking about somebody else's sex lives.

Xinyu could only be so shocked once I ended my retelling of it. Her mouth was just slightly open, though she had let out a few giggles and gasps, but she did let me finish talking. She was much closer now—and beside me.

“They did a lot more than I thought,” she remarked.

“Yeah, talk about doing more than..,” I replied, thinking quickly, “you know, a porno,” I was just guessing her friend's bluff. Given that the boys and girls had separate quarters, it seemed bound to happen. Giggling about it a bit, I could just about hear Xinyu turn to me, while her gaze scrambled across the room, and then she began leaning closer. I was backing by the bit, sensing her apprehension, I shut my eyes the same and leaned, closing the distance, and our lips met.

It was a simple kiss, yes, not more than a few seconds, nothing too dramatic or malicious—yet her gaze stayed fixed—Xinyu wanted more.

Talking was awkward. I leaned towards her for another kiss, half-expecting her to stop me. Instead, she put her left hand on my neck, sliding and slightly pulling me towards her again. It was more intimate, longer this time, a smack rang out once, twice, before Xinyu slowly pushed me away.

“Wait, you’re okay, right?” she asked.

“Okay, with what?” I asked Xinyu, “Shouldn’t I be asking that?” and well, yes. I was okay with it.

“This,” she replied, “You’re not going to tell anybody, right?”

I think, I just think, that Xinyu knew it would spread like a grass fire if I told this out. She probably knew I was thinking the same. We both had scrambled minds. Certainly uncertain.

I just nodded, “I won’t.”

She pressed herself forward, another smooch quickly followed by another, before I could feel her shifting to get herself right on my lap. It wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be, perhaps it was her pheromones talking to me. To be fair, she always smelled good, and I thought I smelled like a bath, so it couldn’t be me. A kiss was all it took for more to follow, and so it did. It was not too fast, smooching, yes, but I can’t tell if we were both good kissers or just lucky to be average. Hands on her waist, there was no rushing, frizzled touches, hasty undressing, yet perhaps it was more so our sense of prudence taking over for that last one, being our last change of clothes. Yet I just knew with how Xinyu had her hands around me, on my shoulder and my neck, that she didn’t want a change of pace just yet. I knew that this torrid kissing, warming herself up, just had to lead somewhere, and with her right on top of me, she was beginning to grind ever so slowly.

Sliding my hand to her legs, I slowly slid them inward, and bit by bit, forward. Xinyu stopped, she was staring at me. I asked her.

“You want to go through with this?”

She just nodded, “Isn’t it a little late to ask that?” and giggled, another peck, “Keep going.”

Following her, we kept at it. Xinyu’s grind started to move a little faster, urging me on with how hot her breathing was becoming. Taking my left hand around her waist, sliding it toward her ass, fingers slowly dug in on her flesh. Slowly tilting her head and kissing me deeper, she was tight, and I responded in kind and gave her my tongue. Yet a faux tongue was ready between her legs, fingers cupping her pussy, warmth, teasing her. Hearing her hitch at the sudden contact, but not stop as I continued, slowly using two fingers to feel her, up and down, up and down.

The entire time, she never moved her hands downward, perhaps she liked making out more than doing the same to me. Xinyu’s kisses, from simple, playful pecks, to making out, a messy affair where both of our tongues fight to keep in control of ourselves. Short of undressing ourselves, I decided to push my chances further, and sliding my hands in to grope her ass. Just a little more, a little warmer, a little wetter, I thought, before I would do the same to the front. It took a while, but her voice shook a bit when she asked.

“Why won’t you just finger me?”

I didn’t respond, perhaps thinking of some one-liner that just wouldn’t come out. I had a slender woman sitting on my lap, waiting for me to do something beyond second base.

“How about this then?” Xinyu followed. Her left hand moved downward while she pressed her lips to mine. Mirroring my hand, her fingers wrapped around my crotch, quickly getting the shape of my shaft through my pajamas. Breaking off a little, I could just a little “oh,” leave her.

That was the permission I needed. Our lips came together again, I took my hand out from behind her and switched, yet somehow fumbled to find the hem of her panties. Slowly beckoning me on with the way her fingers slid and stroked my cock even under the layers, trying to make it a solid shape for herself. Trying to find a moment where she stopped moving, I slid my hand in, but not under her panties where it would be hard to do anything. I had more in mind.

Xinyu was warm. A wet spot had formed over her panties from the circles I was drawing on her. A layer past that, there was a moistness that had formed over her panties, just a little more, I thought. Pressing my fingers down, I traced her folds where they would be, her responding as I struck her clit more times than she’d like, slightly moving backward. Hearing her let out a quiet moan as I kept rubbing further through the fabric.

Sensing some boldness in the air, Xinyu tried to put her left hand in my boxer, though I grabbed her by the wrist with my right hand. I was fine, she was a bit shocked, did I suddenly get cold feet? I don’t know what came over me, but I was more than fine getting hard from hearing her alone. Not yet, Xinyu, not yet.

“I-I’m okay,” I blurted out, trying to string something while I had my hands between her legs, using my fingers to send my message. It was her moment, not mine, “Just let me.”

Xinyu just smiled, withdrawing her hand, but not before grabbing my cock through the cloth this time, sighing before saying, “You know, I started wondering about this when..,” squeezing my shaft and turning into a whisper, “I saw you doing it one night.”

I was in shock, turning red, and Xinyu knew it, but by now she knew how to shut me up. If that was the case, we continued making out, slowly I tried to move her panties to the side just to gain an entry, but almost always missed. She was a little more frisky now, I was at a position of disadvantage, yet I could pin her down, but she had me pinned down with her lips. She was moaning as we made out, tongues together, while the other pair of lips was just waiting for my fingers to push through. She then stopped for a second to plunge her hand right between her legs too, sliding her panties to the side for me, telling me as she pulled her lips away, “Put it in.”

Xinyu was wet enough, and I wasn’t just going with one, so two fingers went in. My fingers weren’t as long as hers, but her sudden moan and pull meant I must’ve hit something good. Not stopping, I prodded further to my amusement, and she shuddered a bit. I awkwardly tried to get a grip as her fingers scrambled while beginning to move inside. Though trying to finger her with her panties was quite limiting. I tried what I could, and well, it just seemed to work. Not long after, our lips were back together while she began to move to my fingers, timing playing my fingers jammed between her lips as the others also slammed with hers.

Xinyu was whispering when she pulled her lips away, but not to me, to herself. I was unable to make it out, but I couldn’t even think as her breath would hitch and latch onto my lips again.

By now, we had melted out of our tenseness. Yet when Xinyu kissed me first, it was different from the same woman whose tongue I was against now. She quickly did away with formalities, and now, my fingers are wet.

“Go deeper.”

Eh? It wasn’t even that long after I started, nor was there much for me to give with my fingers. Yet she wanted deeper? Fine. Perhaps she was trusting me too much.

I stuck them as deep as I could, hooking my fingers inside forward as my pinky began to strain. Keeping our lips together, I could hear Xinyu hitch her breath and pull me closer, hearing a squeal as she seemed to melt right onto my fingers. She was holding on much closer now, with her lips picking up the pace as she kept moving her hips. Listening to her and waiting for the occasional command. Through the muted moaning, shuddering, squealing, and squelching, we both knew we could hear, I was leading her.

I pulled my fingers out for a second. They were wet. I jammed them back in and her breath hitched, catching onto my lips again as I continued rolling my fingers in a hook, feeling the warmth of her slowly flowing down, then dripping between my fingers. I tried to think of anything to say but just nothing, only the warmth of Xinyu’s guts right at my fingertips filled me. Her moans kept my warmth going, yet I wanted her, but I needed to wait.

“You okay?” I asked as I felt Xinyu shaking ever so often. I couldn’t lie to myself. I was mirroring her too. With bated breaths and shaking fingertips, we both knew what would come next and at the same time, didn’t. I don’t know what she wanted to do next, but the pace we were in wasn’t so bad, moving a little fast, but otherwise just evidence of our youth. Impatient yes, with her tongue pushing at my lips, my hands occupied with her neck and her pussy, fingering away until she just broke.

“I want to ride you already.”

I almost swallowed my tongue. I didn’t know if I nodded or not, but I did meet Xinyu with a peck on the lips, and like ink on a signature, it was automatic.

She got off, fingers on both my underwear and pajamas as she pulled it off. My cock sprang out followed a weak giggle from Xinyu as she pulled my clothes off my foot, throwing them over her pile. I wasn’t paying enough attention, absent-minded from the ruffling of the sheets, and never noticed hers join them too.

Hands on my shoulders, Xinyu—more like Chang’e—hovered over me, fully naked.

I swallowed, I could hear her huff and ask, “Been a while?”

“A while.” I nodded slightly.

It was both running in our heads. We were printing the same telex message among ourselves in our twenty-three year old heads. Reading along the lines of relax, relax, relax—you’re young, it’s just casual—was it?

Placing her hands on my shoulder, Xinyu met me with a kiss, only noticing her warmth around my shaft as she began to stroke it. Pushing her tongue onto my lips as her long fingers tugged at my twitching cock, was she going to push herself down this soon? I had my answer as she gestured at me to open my legs, I complied with what she wanted. Holding out breaths as she stared me down, giving me a peck on my lips as if to distract me from her descent. It was hot. Both of us flinched as I penetrated her, a drawn-out exhale coming from her that slowly pitched up into a moan when it got past the tip. Our heads filled with warm, unadulterated sexual embrace as our hands searched for something to hold on to.

I had to control myself. It’s been far too long, and this wasn’t me doing it solo anymore. This was Xinyu on top of me. I don’t know for sure, but with how her face was contorted in a manner no pocketbook smut or porno magazine could capture. A slight tremor in her grip, on my thigh and then on my shoulder, and for the first time, she opened her eyes to look at me. She didn’t need to talk.

Having set herself down, she slowly began to move. Closing her eyes again and letting her carnal instinct take over for her as her hips began to roll. Up and down, up and down, she went. I was twitching because she was just that tight. Now, what the hell was I supposed to do to not finish early? Recite the hóng bǎoshū? Perhaps. I began to lay kisses on her collarbone, slowly tracing down to the top of her tits, she moaned and clutched at my nape, feeling her gaze down at me as she finally broke the silence.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Perhaps it was the other way around—she felt better. It was a boyhood dream come true. Zhou Xinyu, for all her height, had her legs open and sitting on my cock, her pinkish folds enveloping it with her top half in my embrace for my lips to kiss. I could feel the goddess that she was beginning to turn hot as moans began in crescendo, although to my dismay, sitting straight meant her red lips were quite far yet I could sense she looked on approvingly.

Taking my lips off her chest for a second, I met her gaze. Xinyu was drunk with how good it felt, her hands having not changed places since she had sat down, clearly enjoying herself for only I to witness. Stopping just for a bit to kiss me deeply before she continued riding. In just a while, she had a constant, labored breath between moans, both of us sometimes sharing a smile, then a kiss, amidst the pleasure as we tried to keep ourselves quiet. Though keeping hush was difficult when it struck her spot just right, her eyebrows furrowed as an instinctive moan left her. She stopped for a bit.

“I don’t think I’ve gotten this close this quick before,” Xinyu sighed, then chuckled as she blurted, “Your size does help.”

I just rolled my eyes. Here comes the ego fuel, I thought. Though she caught on quickly to my disbelief, “A lot more than I expected.”

She must’ve thought feigning underestimation might do the trick. I would’ve said the same thing about her, yet found my stream of consciousness slipping as she proved me right anyway. I needed a second to appreciate the sight; her pretty face contorted in pleasure, small tits, flat tummy, hips moving, rolling. Pacing herself almost at a shallow hop, riding halfway up, followed by the faint sound of a squelching beginning every time she put her weight down.

Though, by this point, my legs were just about to betray me, having folded slightly upward for a while to cradle a tall woman slamming down on them was taking its toll. I wasn’t going to interrupt Xinyu now, not so close, but I was inviting a broken arrow and a cramped leg if I didn’t. So I moved us to the edge of the bed, with my feet flat on the floor—and a sigh of relief from me—with our top halves pretty much in the same manner. Though now there was the bonus of being able to lean forward so I can finally suck on her nipples, it did take some adjusting, and even more when I noticed I was already straining.

Xinyu groaned with how deep I was. Essentially cradled in my grip, hand on her hip and arm up her back as she inched herself closer to an orgasm. It was just a slight lean but it took every ounce of effort for me to not cum then and there. The whole image of us fucking and the feel of her on me. When she would stop to catch her breath and kiss, she was messy but beautiful, even more so now. I was minding her wetness as it trickled down my balls. Suddenly, her grip tightened as she switched her pace up, biting her lip as she squealed, looking up to see her head thrown back while she shook some. Grabbing her ass while her legs squeezed at my sides, with her squeal rolling into a moan, then tired huffs. I thought she’d take longer. Did she just cum?

“You came?” I asked. Xinyu nodded

“You’re not tired yet?”

She couldn’t lie with her huffing and nodded.

We switched. For the first time since we started, I could see the slight sheen of sweat all over Xinyu in the few seconds she stood and threw herself to the bed. I suppose this was a better method of keeping ourselves warm. Now it was my turn to stand up and kneel on the bed, greeted with a sight as she lay down with her legs open for me. I was a curious kid, touching her with my fingers again like earlier. She was warm, very warm, one finger in, hypnotized until I thought, “I should put my cock in.”

Placing my hands on her hips, I slightly lifted her. It caught her somewhat off guard, eyes locked as her expression shifted, mouth hung open, annoyed, then pleasured. I slid back, her eyes looking upward, then rolling them back as I arched her back. She shut her eyes and craned her neck as I thrust a second time, deeper, trying and failing to catch her moaning. Repeatedly, I gave it to her that way, appreciating how easy it was for me to slide so deep in such a tight hole. Her hands moved quite a bit, though she settled on tradition, hands low on my waist while I kept a grip on her. Though for a few times, she had an arm holding onto the covers behind her, or looking at how I was fucking her, moaning at almost every thrust. Xinyu was a singer, yes, a trained one at that, and she sang the loudest when my entire length was in. I tried to keep a neutral expression, thinking “Don’t finish early”—it was all about Xinyu—and she wasn’t even asking me to go any faster.

She did, however, always requested “harder” right before letting out a hushed long moan and rattling under me. Meanwhile, I was mentally reciting Party passages to distract myself a bit from hearing her slosh and contract under me, her medium-length hair already a mess from moving around quite a bit. I was getting close right then, yet talk about living out fantasies.

Yet, by that point, I could feel my knees beginning to get sore from kneeling for, how long has it been, two, three minutes? It felt like forever. Xinyu then pressed her hand on my stomach. All stop, aye, ma’am.

“Have you cum already?” she asked. I shook my head, tired, to which she ordered, “Sit down.”

I thanked my lucky stars that I felt like masturbating before I showered, so, how’s that for a foresight? I thought, but I smirked, and so did she as we switched, though now I leaned a bit so her face was closer, and kissed me just before sliding me back inside. That was more like it.

Now, everything about Xinyu was long, her arms embraced me as she began to ride. Though in honesty, it felt more like a pummeling. She knew I was close, so when she stopped, she leaned down and kissed harder, tongues out in a frenzy. Yet when she wasn’t, she whispered all sorts of good things between her noise. Less than a minute now, we guessed as I began to twitch, no amount of recitation of everything I remembered was going to save me now, nor was my earlier delay, that trick was about to run its course.

Hearing her goad me with my eyes as she stared into me, together with missing the warmth of her lips, and of course the intimacy of us. This was her consummation, and the only thing left was carnality.

“You’re close?” Xinyu asked. I couldn’t say anything. I was just nodding now.

“Me too,” she huffed. Giving me that non-verbal look, a slightly raised eyebrow. It was a question, I let out a sly smile, and so did she. I would let her overrun me. She leaned her head down, we kissed, deeply, not nervously like a while ago. It was a consenting kiss—we were gonna cum together.

Hand up her back, I slid it down her hip as her movements became more controlled now, if not a bit faster, but still amateur. She was much closer than I thought, her moans were beginning to betray her as well. Our expressions were shared now, as we had let go of pretense, I had given her part of the fun but knew that this was the orgasm we were waiting for.

Xinyu’s arms held me closer, I saw her move her mouth just before putting her lips on mine, I couldn’t tell what she was trying to say. The moment I pulled back, she had her eyes closed, only opening for a second before continuing, moaning even when our lips and tongues were together. She was louder now, her arm and pussy's embrace on my shaft grew tighter, shuddering as I tried to hold on to something. Then, her right arm flew to my thigh, breaking away as she let out a long, low moan as her orgasm came onto her. She shook—and I blew—with my lips barely able to get on her neck as I felt the first twitches unload. It was intense, hot, painting her walls with my cum. I shut my eyes and felt my strength drain into her, our fingers clawing, my legs pushing her to me as I came down from myself.

We held each other as we caught our breath, now we were tired. A long kiss goodnight followed, and she assured me she was going to be okay.

Once again, it was a blur after that. We cleaned up after ourselves, repeating our procedures, and not feeling like changing the sheets, just decided to crash on the bed again. Though now the same bed was stained with a young couple’s juices, much to the truth of the madamé at the front desk. I thought about grabbing some food from whatever we had left in a futile bid to get our energy back. It wasn't until Xinyu, leaning on my shoulder, dropped her book in my lap that we decided it was lights out. I shut the stove door to at least plunge the room into some semblance of darkness and came beside Xinyu.

She, after confusing me for a bit, grabbed my right arm and pulled me into a cuddle. I was quite shocked, but a kiss on the back of her head was all I could do. I was sleepy, too lazy to talk by then.

Xinyu then asked.

“Want to go eat together next week? Oh, and,” she pulled my arm just a bit closer, “You’re not going to tell anybody, right?”

“You know,” another kiss on her hair, pulling her closer, “They’ll know, sooner or later,” I replied.

“Good. Better you than somebody new.”

#kpop smut #mxf #kpop #kpop fanfic #triples #xinyu #triples xinyu

494 notes · View notes

hencheri · 1 day ago

Text

— ENHYPEN & what they’re into !

▸ 18+ mdni.

| pairing. bfs!enhypen x fem!reader

| warnings. daddy kink, allusions to sub/dom dynamics, rough sex (nothing intense but still), squirting, idk very cute stuff overall ngl lol.

| a.n.: in my normie era pls i love it. let me know if i should do more <3 (i probably will anyway)

HEESEUNG — dry humping

having you close to him, still in your clothes, desperately humping each other turns him on to another level. he loves the friction it creates, especially how your clothed pussy rubs over his hard cock back and forth. the extra layers of clothes might be a bother to other people, but to heeseung, it's what makes everything ten times better. it makes you needier, so eager to reach your high and he's happy to help you, grinding his bulge harder against your cunt until you cum. you're always so frail in his arms after, shaking like a leaf, holding tight onto him. then comes his favourite part where he looks at the state of your panties, all soaked in your wetness, pulling them down your legs and revealing your sticky folds that he doesn't wait to push himself in between.

JAY — fingering

if there's one thing that jay loves more than making you cum around his cock, it's making you cum on his fingers. he has you in his lap, legs spread open for him, freely moaning into his ear to go harder, faster, and to please, let you cum. he doesn't let it happen until he's certain you're completely ruined, drunk on his fingers thrusting inside of you and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. "were you a good girl to daddy, today?" he asks, wanting you to comply to all of his demands, to say yes just because you need to cum so badly. you dumbly nod your head, promise jay that, yes, you were good to him today and he makes sure to reward you, letting you cum around his fingers while he kisses down your neck.

JAKE — hair pulling

it goes both ways; you gripping his locks tightly as he eats you out or him holding your hair as he pounds into you from behind. he thrills on the feeling of your fingers pulling on his hair when the pleasure is too much. you have to grip something, anything, and the first thing you reach is his head of black hair. he always hisses through his teeth when you accidentally pull a little too roughly, but he doesn't mind it at all, he loves it. it's the same thing when he has his cock into you, his hips slamming into your ass, having a fistful of your hair and shoving your head into the pillow to muffle down your moans or bring you in for a messy kiss.

SUNGHOON — anal

he's really obsessed with anal since always. if his porn search history isn't enough to tell, sleeping with him is. the first time he's with you, he's already talking about it; "what do you think about it?", "would you like to try?", "is it something you think you could enjoy?", and because you're as perverted as your boyfriend, of course you like it. he knows it's a process, but he's willing to do all that it takes to finally be able to fuck your ass. it doesn't stop there, though—sunghoon wants to eat your ass, too. there's just something about your moans, how melodic they sound, and your legs thrown over his shoulders, licking your rim while he circles your clit with his thumb. or the sight of your ass dripping from his cum, your poor cunt neglected as it clenches at the pace of your heartbeat. saying he's obsessed is an understatement—he's in love with it.

SUNOO — head

oral sex is simply sunoo's thing—you could even say he's an expert at it. making you feel good with his tongue is what he loves the most, really. there's nothing better than the sweet taste of your pussy in his mouth, licking and sucking like he would when kissing you. he doesn't use his fingers a lot, he prefers to make you cum solely with his mouth, but when he does, it always ends in a big, big mess. so that's why when he brings out a towel and places it underneath you, you know you're in for something intense. he loves to make you feel good, almost euphoric, because you praise him so much and you're so grateful to him after. sunoo's surely not against receiving either—after all the love he gives to your pussy, it's only fair you do the same for him.

JUNGWON — hickeys

he's a biter, and what's his favourite thing to bite? you. you always feel so soft against him, so small and perfect, he just has to bite you and leave his mark behind. your thighs, your breasts, your neck, your arms... he needs to suck on every patch of skin he sees on you. you're his girlfriend and he loves you—it's his way of cherishing you. but as much as he likes to mark you in love bites, he literally melts under your touch. jungwon's so whiny when you kiss him down his neck, so needy as your kisses turn into bites. they're sweet and soft like you, it tickles, and you're so cute trying to leave hickeys on him. he always pushes your hips down when you're straddling him, making you feel his hard cock through his clothes, tilting his head to the side to expose more of his neck to you.

NIKI — making-out

it may sound boring or simple, but to niki, making-out is the total opposite of that... it's hot, wet, desperate and his favourite thing ever to do with you. he loves foreplay before anything, he could honestly only do that instead of sex and he'd be just as satisfied. you get so grabby when you're kissing; your fingers passing through his long hair or clenching around his t-shirt. niki gets as equally touchy, if not more. he's bold enough to sneak his hands under your top, even into your pants. you don't mind it—on the contrary, you like it so much. when his fingers ghost over your clothed pussy, you inevitably whine into his mouth, pressing your body closer to his if it's even possible at this point. niki loves to feel the heat of your cunt against him, and it's even better when he has his tongue in your mouth, his teeth biting your lips. he wants to be in charge, be the dominant one and guide you, but he quickly loses track of his thoughts once you start grinding your hips against his.

—-

a.n.: i still don't write for sunoo but i wanted to include him in this anyway <3 pls let me know what you think about these, should i make more for other groups?? again, i'd appreciate it so much if you could reblog/comment or send an ask, wtv you're the most comfortable with. it might seem short but it really took me a lot of time to write lol!! ty <33

#— ☆ starring enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enha x reader #enha smut #heeseung smut #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #sunoo smut #jungwon smut #niki smut

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g-k444 · 2 days ago

Text

being drunk n high and trying to change into a small top before returning to the party can be sooo hardddd

it's just so small, and what i'm trying to cover is so much bigger!

not my fault my tits dont wanna fit into the top. One way either my nipples are visible from the low cut centre, or the fat of my tits is visible from beneath the small top - or when they finally sit nicely covered by the fabric... one sharp turn forces them to break free from material-prison and practically escape from the top

and being high and drunk, i do not have enough control of my body to y'know - actually get my clothes to comply.

so i throw my outfit on as best as i can and return downstairs to the party...

fill my drink, walk around, go outside, sit with some friends, get pulled onto someones' lap, havethempushmeasajokeandhavemyTITSCOMPLETELYFALLOUTFOREVERYONETOSEE...

ah well, at least it could be more awkward

instead i start giggling as i feel the someone beneath me reach up to massage my tits, joggle them up and down and flop them 0 large hands gripped around the mounds and playing with them before trying to return them into the top

"god is this top even meant to fit? your tits are out even when you put the top on, you must've bought this at least two sizes too small."

"Guess I'll have to keep them out then!"

I pull the top off again with a flourish, much to the delight of everyone else around the table - someone nearby giving my tit a slap almost as a pat on the back of good for you

although it turns out less than good for me when less than a half hour later midway through truth or dare that seems rather at my expense, I'm made to take my panties off on the table and let someone jerk off with them, made to kneel down from the table to deliver kitten licks to their cock and get them to finish

all the while someone nearby is penetrating my pussy with their fingers - long, fluid strokes that draw my slickness out just to give some lubrication for this person to play with my clit and make me get all moany and bothered

then i'm getting cummed on my pussy and told to let someone else eat it off of my flower whilst I try not to cum, and inevitably have my eyes roll to the back of my head and convulse when i do cum

and with enough alcohol, by the end of the night, i'd been convinced to have my hands handcuffed together and go to a neighbour to offer my body for an hour to whoever answers the naked girl on the porch

the next morning i wake up with a cum splattered body and someone's fingers still in my pussy, a cock brushing my cheek and balls against my lip

and honestly? though i dont remember a moment from the night, i can tell it's was a good night.

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days ago

Note

Can I request headcanons for saja boys with shy but touch starved gn s/o please?

Jinu

He’s touch starved himself in my opinion.

He’s also a little awkward too and would definitely be cautious as to not push you beyond your boundaries.

He finds your shyness an interesting thing to have, it’s always a sight to behold when he watches you interact with his tiger companion and the bird with the top hat, acting as though you couldn’t be anywhere else then with them.

Yet when it comes to social interactions you reframe from speaking incase you said something that could come across as silly or stupid. It was truly telling to Jinu where your comfortability levels lied in certain situations and who you were with.

So he would always be nearby, ready to take over a conversation if he saw that you were running low of things to say, coming up with something believable for the other person as he pulls you away from a conversation that was obviously not doing you a lot of good. He’ll take you to less crowded places as he himself didn’t like overcrowded places either, preferring more scenic areas where he could clear his mind and hear himself think.

So Jinu takes you to those places when he knows you needed it and would just stand by your side, all the while the bird with the tiny hat would rest itself on your shoulder, cuddling against your neck and closing it’s eyes in content.

Jinu wouldn’t take to physical affection immediately but instead take his time when he saw how you tensed before gradually intertwining your fingers with his, letting out a sigh of relief as you let yourself enjoy the affection for what it was.

from then on Jinu would also allow himself to enjoy enacting physical affection alongside you, or vicariously through you, when he rested his hand upon the small of your back or gingerly caressed the back of your neck in order to get you to relax and breath again.

Jinu find that you were both alike in similar ways but different in others and found solace in that as neither of you had to go against yourselves in order to appease the other. Affection will come and go but each of them being as meaningful as the last even if it was for a couple of seconds.

Also cuddles with the fluffy blue tiger are a must to recovery your battery, Jinu joins in because you both looked adorable, only for you two to be squashed under the big blue fluff as they act completely innocent.

Baby

Isn’t one for outright PDA. So he’s perfect for you really, it’s not important to him as it would to be for others.

He’ll take the lead in most situations, not that he cares whether your shy or not, he’ll step up if it senses as though your having a hard time even if his face is as though he was perpetually nonchalant about it.

He’ll most likely nudge your shoulder, tap the back of your hand three times, or having his thigh close by to yours but not close enough to just, just enough for you to know he was there if you ever need him.

Baby can communicate to you without having to use words, he’ll use notes to do so if you felt as though you couldn’t use your voice, feel like it’s been taken away from you even if you were just about to ask him for help on something.

He can tell that you need something and is very attuned to how you show that, even without words and will get it without hesitation. It almost comes off as though you have some sort of psychic connection with how effortlessly you knew one another without having to even open your mouths.

Your shyness wasn’t a deterrent for him either as he’s not one to talk all the time either, just enough for people to understand his personality, but just little to keep people guessing his next move or guess what’s his favourite colour or favourite kind of spicy food he preferred.

Baby didn’t care if you talked too much or too little, just as long as you were comfortable with him and didn’t feel as though you had to pressure yourself into becoming comfortable for his sake because that was the last thing he wanted for you.

Baby didn’t care if you didn’t want to go out that much, he wasn’t much of an outdoor person himself, only going out when needed or just to take a quick trip to a corner store and grab spicy treats and sweet snacks for you to munch on within the comfort of your apartment.

He’s more of a homebody who will occasionally want to go out now and then, keenly aware of how easily drained you can be afterwards. He’ll always keep an eye on you in the most nonchalant way possible, caring for you in his own way while also letting you do whatever pleases you.

Abby

Is a teasing shit that will tease you for your shyness initially but never takes it too far, he’s not that mean. He knows his limitations before the playful taunts become mean spirited.

He adores your shyness really, especially when he causally flexes his muscles and you -upon getting caught looking at him- would seemingly jolt out of your skin and look away. It feeds his ego a little and he’d intentionally do it even more if it meant seeing such interesting reactions coming from you.

He can easily stand in front of you if you didn’t want to be seen by others, he’s tall enough and well built enough to do so with ease, he’ll do it if it gives you some peace of mind. Your comfort comes first to Abby.

Will ask if you wanna touch his abs and smiling when you seemingly were at a loss for words, brain working too hard to decipher what he said and if it’s genuine or a joke.

His PDA is about average. He’ll hold your hand, thumb caressing your wrist, or his arm is thrown over your shoulder where he could feel you stiffen before melting under his embrace, almost hiding yourself away within his side while doing so.

That’s when he knows your touch starved and will start doing more to make you more use to his touches and affection.

Abby didn’t care if it took you longer to be comfortable in making phone calls to places or getting use to him putting his hand in your back pocket, as long as he got to do so and get to see how you’d react to what he does was more then enough for him. Your reactions are the highlight for him as he couldn’t help but become infectious with the happiness you felt for getting through placing your order without fucking up.

Abby is your hype man and your biggest teaser at the same time.

He’ll be happy for you/with you and will bring you into his arms to savour the sweet moment as he utters how proud of you he is, only for him to then in the same breath tease you for brushing against his abs, making you smack his bicep weakly as he laughs. Abby can truly be a menace but also be the biggest supporter when it came to you and doing things you initially felt under qualified to do.

Mystery

Your guard dog in more ways then one.

He’s almost got a sixth sense for when you’re comfortable and uncomfortable, like a bloodhound he could smell it from a mile away and immediately he’s more or less barking at whatever is making you uncomfortable.

Not one for words but his actions make up for it. You know the silent type goes strong in him but that doesn’t mean you’ve never heard him talk at all, his I’d like to believe voice is soft, grounding and steady in a way where if he says things were going to be okay, you’d believe him wholeheartedly.

If you want something, just point it out to him and he’ll get you it if you have social anxiety or just can’t bring yourself to speak to the person behind the till.

He’s more then willing to do anything on your behalf or be a grounding presence when you do it yourself, gently brushing his hand against your own in a silent gesture that he was here, that you shouldn’t feel stupid or anything when he was right there to offer moral support.

Affection wise he’s more accustomed to putting his head on your lap or resting his head against your own as his arms are anchored to your waist, almost as though he’s bringing you into an impromptu cuddle session.

The first time he did so, you were tense and didn’t know what to do, stay still as you could while he rested his head in your lap as you looked about awkwardly before feeling his hand grab yours and place it atop of his head in a silent demand for you to run your fingers through his hair.

It was awkward at first as you didn’t want to hurt him by catching some stubborn knots within his hair, but soon enough you were running your fingers through his hair like it’s nothing as though it was second nature.

Everything took time and Mystery was more then willing to keep constantly resting his head on your lap on the odd occasion so that you’d get use to him doing so, get use to him pulling your hand on his head so that his need for attention and affection didn’t come out of nowhere and left you feeling uncomfortable.

Romance

Loves, loves, loves PDA.

Finds your shyness endearing but understands that it can be somewhat debilitating at times when it comes to doing certain things that come more natural to people more confident than you.

He would try to ease you into it by doing small gestures, such as intertwining pinkies or just tracing his fingers across your palm so that you would be familiar to his touch when he does more grander expressions of affection.

He’s got patience in droves and will reassure you that your shyness is one of the many things he loves about you, even if you think that your shyness was holding him back or believe it to be a downside to you.

He’s never holding it against you at all, he embraces it and is more than willing to go at your own pace should it be more comfortable for you.

The last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though you had to be thrusted out of your comfort zone to keep someone when it’s doing more harm then good, that you needed to ignore your own feelings in order to accommodate the other person’s feelings.

That wasn’t love in his eyes and it never will be.

Romance is convinced that while you were both different, you both compliment each other in a way that he’s come to adore.

He’s more sociable and outgoing, whereas you were more reserved and didn’t feel at all comfortable with overbearing people or overcrowded spaces filled with loud and rambunctious characters. Yet you both worked wonders together and that’s all Romance could ask for, someone who complimented him while also being uniquely themselves.

#saja boys #saja boys x reader #saja boys x you #mystery x reader #jinu x reader #jinu x you #romance x reader #baby x reader #abby x reader #kpop demon hunters #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpop demon hunters x you #kpop demon hunters imagines #kpop demon hunters imagine #kpdh #kpdh x reader #kpdh x you #kpdh imagines #kpdh imagine

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binmeister · 2 days ago

Text

Let the man rest.

Huntr/x & Saja Boys x Bodyguard! Reader

Sometimes you work a little too hard, add a messy sleep schedule on top and.. well.. maybe you can catch up on sleep now. At least that's what you thought.

Wanted to combine a little thought I had about a tired Bodyguard! reader and a prompt submitted by @silver--47 - thank you so much for the inspo !!

Prompt provided by silver:

Reader scolding both Huntr/x and Saja Boys over their childish behavior at a variety show or fan sign. Like, making them all sit on a long couch and ranting and scolding them about proper Idol behavior and etiquette, no matter if they are Demons or Hunters. At the end, reader walks off to work out and Huntr/x and Saja Boys collectively agree that they never wish to see the bad side again. Bonus: Zoey and Romance getting freaky about how hot reader looked when angry.

CW: not properly proofread, masc pronouns used where applicable

WC: Approx 3.3k

You’re genuinely exhausted. It feels like it’s been weeks since you had a good nights rest but you couldn’t ease up just yet, wanting to make sure that you stayed on top of your game in other aspects of your life even if it meant your sleep schedule took a hit. The Huntr/x girls had noticed, the Saja Boys too. Everyone could tell that you were just exhausted.

“Hey, you should take it easy today.” You could barely distinguish the voice of Mira as she looked at you with genuine concern written all over her face, you waved her off assuring her that you’re fine and that it’ll be okay since this would be the last event scheduled for at least a week. It was a recorded game show with a live audience where both groups had been invited to attend and of course you were there to make sure the girls were okay. It was your job. Your responsibility.

The car ride to the venue wasn’t too long, Bobby had been chattering away at the expected timeline of games and events and even he had noticed that you were tired. You brushed him off and said the same thing you said to Mira, that you’re fine and it’s the last event so you can rest once it’s all done. The girls all collectively shared a glance and unbeknownst to you, shot Bobby a look as if pleading him to arrange something at the venue which he gave a thumbs up to and began texting away on his phone.

You’d shut your eyes at some point and were lulling in and out of sleep in the car, arms crossed as you fought off the fatigue - head struggling to stay upright but you needed to stay up. Try to be on alert. When the car halted it’s movement finally and the driver announced you’d arrived at the destination, you managed to crack your eyes open enough to unbuckle your seatbelt and clicked open the van’s sliding door to exit first - a polite bow to the fans that had been hovering near the road when they heard of who was scheduled to be on the show today.

You’d slid the door open a little wider, taking your coat off and shielding the girls’ bodies as they climbed out - being wary of any flashing cameras that may have been aiming to get an inappropriate upskirt shot or any compromising photos in general. After Bobby had exited the van as well you’d slid the door shut, giving the top of the van a couple of firm pats to signal that the driver was free to go and you’d swung your coat over your shoulder as you followed behind the trio of idols in front of you into the safety of the building.

The moment the group had stepped in the set staff had ushered the girls off to hair and makeup, and seemingly last minute wardrobe changes to make sure they were in outfits that were functional for the games they were due to play. You gave a small polite bow to them as they whisked the girls away and proceeded to do a quick check of the back stage area, making sure there weren’t any safety concerns or any suspicious characters lurking about when you heard a familiar voice call out to you.

“Hey man!” It was Abby, he recognised your figure as you were walking about and had rushed over to your location. When he was about a step away from you he raised up an arm, gesturing for you to dap him up and you did so - your usual grip lacking as the fatigue was catching up to you and you let him carry the weight as he pulled you in for the quick on arm hug portion of the greeting. He noticed immediately the lack of energy, raising a flared brow at you as he gave you a once over. “Hey you good man? You look pretty tired.”

What’s with everyone and wanting you to rest so bad? Did you seriously look that bad? You shrugged him off and didn’t let him linger too much on his concern as you questioned where the other guys were at if he was here alone. Abby was kind enough to go along with your silent request to ignore your slightly pathetic state and gestured with his head, his thumbs slipping into his tight jean pockets and he stretched a little before relaxing.

“Hair ‘n’ makeup. Y’know the usual stuff they force on us.” He replied to you, the two of you stepping to the side when you noticed some panicked staff shifting around equipment and props to get ready for the shoot. “You can come chill with us if you’re done poking around.”

You mulled it over for a moment before agreeing, letting Abby lead the way to their dressing room so you can greet the other guys and catch back up with the girls before they were due to be on set. It was a short walk and Abby had filled the silence with small talk, seemingly letting you stay quiet this time around instead of his usual way of talking that normally prompted you to respond. A small gesture of kindness to you since he didn’t want to tire you out even further.

He knocked on the door - waiting for approval before he swung it open and let you enter first before stepping in after you and closing it back up behind him. It seemed like the guys had arrived early and had gotten themselves sorted before the girls did which was good at least, it meant the remaining time really was just on the girls to get their stuff sorted and that gave you a little relief. Jinu was sat in one of the chairs in front of a half mirror vanity, scrolling on his phone for a moment but when he heard the sound of people entering he had looked up to check who it was and seemed a little surprised to see you but he’d jumped up to his feet regardless to walk over and greet you properly.

“Hey.” The same greeting exchanged between yourself and Abby was repeated between yourself and Jinu, same loose grip and then a lazy pull in - though you felt a little too tired to commit to the one armed hug and just bumped your shoulder to his. He’d turned and called for the remaining trio to greet you properly, the trio in question currently huddled over Baby’s phone as he seemed locked in on whatever game he had come across in the last week. Mystery looked up and nodded at you, Romance gave you a two fingered salute and Baby flicked his eyes away from the screen enough to nod at you and give you a low ‘wassup.’ - Jinu rolled his eyes at the lazy excuse of a greeting but it didn’t seem like you cared much today.

You felt a weight on your shoulders as Abby swung his arm over you, using his body weight to drag you over to the secondary couch in the room and forcing you to sit down on the plush seat. Were these couches always this comfortable..? Unbeknownst to you it seemed like the demon boys had all collectively agreed to let you chill and rest because realistically, you look like you’d been hit by a truck and forced to go to work an hour later with how sluggish you were moving. Baby had lowered the audio on his phone a little, the once blaring SFX a bit more of a hum and Abby had plopped down next to you - Jinu sitting down on your other side and for some reason it felt like everyone was talking at a lower volume.

Your eyes started to feel progressively heavier, the warmth the two guys radiated near you was a weirdly nice blanket and you’d found yourself sinking into the couch a little - head resting against the wall the couch had been pushed up against and your body in general felt heavy.

Jinu and Abby shared a knowing glance when you’d knocked out, barely 5 minutes into sitting down between them. The former had managed to snag your coat off your shoulder and proceeded to cover you with it to keep you warm since the room had been left at a chillier temperature. There was still a half hour before the idols were due to start the show so surely they could let you indulge in a quick power nap right?

They did just that, talking quietly amongst themselves and going about their usual behaviour minus any obnoxiously loud shouting that would usually stem from Abby in particular. During your little nap, about 10 minutes into it Baby had suddenly piped up that he was bored and had put his phone away. He looked expectantly at the groups’ leader before he looked at Abby and Mystery when an idea formed in his head.

What if he instigated something?

He stood up wordlessly and Jinu didn’t stop him, leader mistake number 1, with quick and light steps he exited the dressing room and had managed to get lucky with his timing because he saw a little trio of well dressed girls chattering amongst themselves. Bingo.

He had wandered on up to them, a sly smile on his face at the familiar look of disdain that flashed on the girls faces that they had to hide as some set staff had rushed up to ask if the girls were ready and if everything was still greenlit. After the staff member had left he opened his mouth to ask them an innocent little question.

“Hey, where’s your lil guard dog?” Rumi’s head snapped over to him at that after she straightened up from bowing at the assistant that had grabbed their attention. “Excuse me?”

“Y’know. Kinda tall, pretty built...” He trailed off as he made direct eye contact with Rumi now. “The hot one that you’re all usually drooling over.”

The girls all stood mouths agape as he casually walked away after that, all making little shouts of protests as they proceeded to follow him and question him about you because in Mira’s opinion ‘That lil sly bastard totally knows where [Name] is’ and that’s what lead them over to a secluded area back stage where he just happily watched them all bicker and make jabs at him that he had tuned out - just enjoying the sounds of their complaints at this rate.

Jinu felt a disturbance in the force, leader senses kicking in and it hit him that if all the guys were in here.. and if you were also in here. Who the hell is watching Baby? He groaned at that as he got to his feet and gestured for Abby to follow him so they could go locate their runt. The bulkier man stood up without a complaint, nodding to the remaining two to keep an eye on you which they acknowledged - one with a nod and one with an OK gesture with his hand.

They’d stepped out and Abby made sure to close the door with a gentle click so it didn’t wake you, then it was up to their enhanced senses to sus out where the hell Baby had gone. Which didn’t take long because they heard the recognisable voices of the hunters sounding disgruntled at someone - with basic math it could only be Baby because if it had been some unsuspecting human? They’re sure you would’ve been the one berating the girls.

“Okay where are you hiding him?” “Did you guys eat him?” “How could you eat him! He vouched that you were cool and you guys go and eat him?”

By the time they walked up close enough to see what was going on, the trio of hunters were hovering around Baby who had the most shit eating grin on his face as if he savoured their suffering. Jinu pinched the bridge of his nose and Abby had to suppress the chuckle that threatened to escape as he watched what was going on.

Maybe 20 minutes had passed and you had grumbled, a soft groan escaping you as you had re-entered the land of the awake seemingly against your will. A hand had covered your eyes when it seemed like you were struggling to adjust the extreme brightness that you had woken up to, it took a few additional blinks before you registered that it wasn’t your hand that had shieled your eyes and you paused. You raised a hand and gently pulled away whoever it was that was kind enough to shield your eyes and you were a little surprised to see that it had actually been Mystery, he was standing in front of you and it seemed like the other guys had already walked out to get themselves prepped or something.

“We’re starting soon, sleeping beauty.” You heard Romance’s voice and realised he was standing at the door already as he waited for you to stretch, your dark button up shirt raising slightly and exposed your midriff and his eyes had instinctively devoured that lick of skin that you’d accidentally blessed him with. Romance coughed into a closed fit to try and play it off but when you’d gotten to your feet and given him a sleepy smile and a husky ‘thanks..’ to Mystery who had stepped back to give you room - it made him realise he had a lot of self reflection to go over later. If he cared enough.

The three of you had left the dressing room and your senses had come back enough to recognise the distinct voices of your girl group in some kind of hushed argument with someone, that’s not right. Who are they arguing with? And you had rushed over to where you heard the sounds from, you’d spotted them off to the side in a semi concealed area where little to no staff were hovering and you saw your girls in some kind of debate with the Saja Boys seemingly.

“What’s going on?” They all collectively froze at the sound of your stern voice. Jinu and Abby had stepped between Baby and the girls and the girls looked like they were about to go feral and attack the smaller male. You saw 6 heads slowly turn to look at you, the guiltiest looks you’ve seen on any of their faces in a while and you were unimpressed to say the least.

It was safe to say you were definitely more awake now, an intense amount of frustration radiating from you that they were not ready to deal with but it seemed they were spared for now as they heard Bobby call out for the girls and guys to please get on set, you’re gonna run behind on schedule. He paused briefly as he noticed your frustrated expression, unsure if he should get into manager mode and get the show on the road or if he should let you do your job in disciplining everyone.

“Get going, you better have a good explanation for this afterwards though.” And that was Bobby’s q to save the idols from your brewing wrath and get things back on track. His movements were quick and he tried his best to hype everyone up as he led them away, coming back shortly after to check in with you now that the kids were all sorted.

“Heeey..” You heard Bobby sing out while you were rubbing your temples, eyes closed as you tried to calm yourself down - definitely still a little too tired to be dealing with a flare up of anger and probably weren’t thinking straight. “Um, the girls and me had asked for them to let you rest in the girls’ dressing room.. so you can go rest there for a bit.”

You contemplated contesting him, telling him you were fine but then you thought it over and decided yeah. You really needed the rest. “Thank you Bobby.” You’d said quietly as you let him lead the way to the girls’ dressing room, when you had entered the smaller room he’d closed the door after you and reassured you that he’ll ‘make sure the girls are safe - you just focus on resting up now!’.

You took in your surroundings, one couch instead of the two that the boys had which made sense since the amount of people was different. It seemed like pillows and a blanket had been arranged for you since they were placed neatly on the soft cushioned couch and it looked divine to go lie down on. When you sat down and literally sank into heaven you let out a deep sigh of relief, shifting to lie down on the provided pillow and tossed the blanket haphazardly on top of yourself as you let sleep overcome your senses again.

It was safe to say you had slept soundly for the full duration of the 2 hour recording the groups had to endure.

The aftermath wasn’t the prettiest, the staff on set were kind enough to allow you some privacy as you needed to have a debrief with the groups about something very important. How could they say no? You’re always so polite and straightforward about things that it only made sense to leave you be with the idols - you were their body guard after all!

Which is what resulted in 5 demons and 3 demon hunters to be knelt in front of you inside of the Saja Boys’ more spacious dressing room, all of their heads hanging slightly as they actively avoided your eye contact. Well except for 3 of them.

“Mystery, Romance, you’re free to go - don’t cause trouble.” You’d said, voice low and tone slightly threatening at the end of your sentence - you didn’t need to instruct them twice because the two were up and gone immediately. Loyalty who? They’re not going to get punished for something they didn’t take part in.

��As for the rest of you,” Your eyes turned back to the remaining trouble makers after you watched the first two leave, your frustration from earlier was back but you were a lot more sound of mind. “I changed my mind about wanting an explanation, I’m just going to remind you kindly about the fact that you are all idols right now.”

The girls thought that maybe Celine actually wasn’t that scary after all and the guys questioned whether or not they may be more scared of you or Gwi-Ma.

“I don’t care who,” Your eyes zoned in on Baby who continued to avoid your gaze, “Started this. You’re all responsible for maintaining a professional,” Your eyes zeroed in on the girls who had promised you the night before that they would be well behaved and not entertain any funny business from the Saja Boys - they all looked guilty. “And responsible image.” Your eyes had met Jinu’s, whom had quirked an awkward and guilty smile at the fact he did mess up in not being more aware of his group member.

“I’m going to let you all off with a warning,” they all visibly relaxed for a moment, “This time.” ..you’re scary when you hold grudges.

“You can all go home, I’m going to go to the gym and cool off.” You finished finally and had picked your coat up off the couch that you’d left behind earlier and proceeded to leave.

“Oh can I tag along-” Abby instinctively asked before your eyes narrowed at him and he shut his mouth and sat his ass back down on the floor.

The click of the door was enough for them all to finally let out a deep breath in collective relief that you hadn’t gone in on them too hard, then Zoey pipes up.

“..does anyone else agree that he was kinda hot just now.” No one wanted to verbally respond to her observation but it felt like there was a mutual agreement in all of their heads.

#kpop demon hunters x reader #saja boys x reader #kpdh x reader #huntrix x reader #jinu x reader #abs saja x reader #baby saja x reader #mystery x reader #rumi x reader #romance x reader #mira x reader #zoey x reader

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