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verstappensrealwife · 2 months ago

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Penny for Your Thoughts - SugarDaddy!Lewis Hamilton x Reader

[lewis hamilton masterlist / f1 masterlist]

ʚɞ in which... the relationship between lewis and his sugar baby develops into something more. ʚɞ fluff, smut, angst (barely) ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 5600 words ʚɞ warnings: use of Y/N, smut, Fem Receiving!Oral, lewis cumming in his pants, some swearing, mentions of sex in conversation, kissing, swearing, unspecified age-gap.

-୨♡୧-

When lewis had met you he didn’t expect this… You were young and beautiful, and while he was equally beautiful, he was a little older.

Not that the age difference mattered to you. You weren’t with him for his good looks—though those certainly didn’t hurt. No, what drew you to him was the promise of his wealth, the endless opportunities for luxury that came with his lifestyle.

And as it turned out, he didn’t mind one bit. Lewis didn’t expect love or devotion, nor did he demand intimacy—at least, not all the time. What he truly enjoyed was spoiling you, a pastime he indulged with an almost reckless abandon. With more money than he could ever hope to spend on himself, Lewis found it gratifying to watch you revel in the fruits of his fortune.

So you came to an agreement, you get his credit card, he gets to show you off like a trophy at different events and around the paddock. You were his trophy, and he was your benefactor.

-୨♡୧-

It was one of those nights where everything seemed to go wrong. You had arrived at the bar with your friends, but somehow, they had disappeared into the crowd, leaving you stranded alone at the bar, nursing your drink and wondering if you should just call it a night. The hum of conversations and clinking glasses faded into the background as you sighed, glancing at the empty seats around you, wishing for some kind of distraction.

Then, unexpectedly, a warm presence slid into the seat next to you. Lewis. He didn’t make any grand gestures, no flashy introductions—he simply settled in beside you, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, despite the many other open chairs. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but when the bartender came by to take your order, he spoke up.

"I’ll take care of your next drink," he said, his voice smooth and casual, as if he already knew you.

You gave him a questioning look, but didn’t protest. A drink, a little distraction, that’s all you needed.

After a moment of silence, you let out a sigh, the weight of the evening still pressing on you. “Penny for your thoughts?” Lewis asked, his eyes studying you with a quiet curiosity.

“You’re gonna need a lot more than a penny,” you quipped, a forced smile tugging at your lips.

“How about 200…?” he replied, without missing a beat, as he casually pulled open his wallet.

“200 pennies?” You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was playing along or actually serious.

“Euros,” he said, a confident smile curling at the corners of his lips. He slid ten crisp 20-euro bills across the bar with a slow, deliberate movement.

Your jaw dropped. The sheer audacity of it caught you off guard. “Not enough?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly, almost genuinely confused. “I can go get more from the cash machine if you need it.”

You stared at him, eyes narrowing. “Are you joking?”

He shook his head, no trace of sarcasm in his voice. “Not at all,” he said simply, pushing the money even closer to you.

A mix of disbelief and curiosity bubbled up inside you, but, against your better judgment, you reached out and took the money. With that, you found yourself explaining the miserable state of your night—the mix of bad decisions, lost friends, and the way everything seemed to be falling apart.

Somewhere between your rant and the last sip of your drink, the conversation shifted. The night took on a different tone, one of unexpected comfort and growing connection. By the time you found yourself back at his hotel room, the details of the evening felt like a blur. What you did remember, though, was the feel of his touch, the luxury that oozed from every inch of him, and the crisp, freshly handed-over credit card tucked into your pocket.

-୨♡୧-

And now, there you stood in Bahrain, playing the loving-girlfriend role (for the first time at a race) as you watched him drive around the track over and over again. You were wearing expensive shoes, a pricy dress, and your hair done up so perfectly you didn’t want to touch it.

After the race had finished and Lewis placed 7th, You watched him climb out of the car, his posture tight, his expression far from pleased. He was used to winning championships, not fighting to stay in the points.

“Well done, Lew.” You had smiled when he came though the garage. He hummed a tiny thank you, clearly upset, and walked right by you. You looked down awkwardly, even the mechanics looked at you a little concerned.

But then, Lewis paused, his frustration momentarily giving way to something else. He turned and reached for your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours with a kind of silent urgency. Wordlessly, he pulled you along with him, heading toward his motorhome.

You couldn’t help but smile, even in the midst of his disappointment.

"I need to go talk to the media," he said, his voice flat. You nodded, understanding the drill. "You can, uh... stay here if you want."

"Of course," you murmured. You didn’t mind

"You did great today," you added quietly, watching him closely. His eyes flicked to you, and for a fleeting moment, you saw something in them—a spark of emotion. It wasn’t just the casual gratitude he usually gave you. This was different, almost vulnerable, like he was searching for comfort, even if he wouldn’t ask for it outright.

He gave you a small smile, nodding in appreciation, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. You could tell the result still weighed on him. With a final, quiet nod, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

-୨♡୧-

It wasn’t long before Lewis returned, his shoulders more relaxed, though the lines of frustration still lingered on his face.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you asked with a teasing smile, hoping to break the silence.

He huffed a tiny laugh, a sound that was both resigned and weary. "Just not happy with P7," he admitted with a shrug. You nodded, sensing there was no need to push him further. "Can we go back to the hotel now?" he asked, the exhaustion evident in his tone.

You nodded immediately, stepping in line behind him as you left the paddock together, the bustling sounds of the paddock fading behind you.

-୨♡୧-

The soft click of the door closing behind him marked the end of the race day. Lewis leaned against the wall, watching you move effortlessly through the room, shedding the remnants of the event like a second skin. First, your makeup came off, followed by the careful undoing of your hair. Then, without a second thought, you peeled off the dress, the expensive fabric slipping down your body and pooling onto the floor, revealing a little more of you with each passing second.

And yes, he watched—he couldn’t help himself. You were still his girlfriend, after all, even if this wasn’t exactly the most conventional of relationships. He admired your figure, the way your skin caught the light in the room, the way you moved with effortless grace.

“Perv,” you teased with a laugh, throwing the dress carelessly over the back of the armchair before slipping into an oversized shirt—one that could’ve been his, though you weren’t sure. You glanced over at him, your playful smile lighting up the room.

He just smirked, unfazed by what you said. Taking a few steps closer to you, the tension palpable. His hands move to hold your bare waist, rubbing his hands up and down your sides, looking down at your body, each curve, each freckle or mark. He looks back up to you, your lips, staring. Before he leans forward, kissing you, its needy and passionate.

Clearly the pent up frustrations with the car was getting to his head.

His hands roaming over your body, before he walks you backwards until your knees hit the back of the bed. He falls on top of you. Looking at you, really looking. Mumbling to himself about how beautiful you are. Then he’s on you again, his lips ravaging at your neck, nipping and sucking gently at the sensitive spot between your neck and collarbone.

Soft whines fall from your lips, tugging at his tshirt, urging him to undress. With one swift motion, he pulls the shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere behind him. He kisses down your body, pulling you gently to the edge of the bed before dropping to his knees. His fingers linger on your underwear, fingertips grazing the skin of your hips, looking up at you for a nod.

“Please,” You pant. Thats all he needed. Wrapping his fingers around the waistband and pulling them off. He wastes no time, his head diving between your thighs. Your loud, desperate moans echoing throughout the room. His fingers glide up the back of your thighs till they cant go further, squeezing at the flesh.

You are a wreck. Writhing, moaning, shaking.

You cry out in pleasure, heels digging into the toned muscle of his back as he plunges two fingers into you. You’re trying desperately to move your hips to ride his fingers. “Lewis,” You whimper, wound up so tight you could burst. “Lewis- I- fuck I’m gonna-”

The words are lost on you as you scream, your body spasms, everything tingles as your cunt tightens around his fingers. Hips bucking upwards as pleasure floods through you.

He pulls his fingers out, and mouth away. Your juices spread across his mouth and chin. He gives you a drunken-looing grin as he stands up. You sit up onto your elbows, then your eyes shoot down to his crotch, the once light grey joggers now dark and wet around his crotch. He looks down, noticing your stare. “I- that doesn’t usually happen- you were just being so hot and I couldn’t really help it.” He says sheepishly.

“It’s hot,” You smirk with a small shrug.

After everything settled, the intensity of the moment slowly faded, leaving a soft, warm silence between you both. Lewis carefully helped you clean up (after washing his face), his hands gentle as he brushed some stray hair from your face, his eyes full of care and affection.

You gave him a funny look as he stared intently at you.

“What? Can’t I admire my girlfriend?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You can, if this ever becomes a normal relationship.”

His smirk faltered for a second, replaced by something more serious. He watched as you crawled onto the bed, pulling the thick covers up to your chin, curling into the softness of the sheets. “Would you want that?” he asked quietly, the question lingering in the air between you. “Like, an actual relationship… not just—whatever this is?”

You shrugged, your eyes flicking to him before settling on the ceiling, lost in thought. “Maybe one day…” Your words hung in the air, both hopeful and uncertain, the weight of what you said not lost on either of you.

Lewis nodded slowly, absorbing the thought. There was no rush, no need for labels. But the way he looked at you—his gaze softening, his lips curling into a gentle smile—made it clear that, in some way, this was becoming something more. He didn’t say anything more, but the unspoken agreement between the two of you was clear: one day, maybe, things would change. For now, he was content to let the night settle in around you both, taking each moment as it came.

-୨♡୧-

You hadn’t gone to the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix—things had gotten too hectic, and you needed some time to yourself. But you were at the Australian Grand Prix, and it was Friday. The buzz of the paddock surrounded you as Lewis was out on track, doing his practice laps, while you sat in the garage. The hum of the engines and the chatter of the crew filled the air as you made small talk with one of the mechanics, discussing anything and everything to pass the time. The world of F1 still felt like a foreign one to you, but you were learning.

After a while, Lewis returned to the garage, stepping out of the car with the usual furrow in his brow. He immediately started speaking to the mechanics about the car, explaining in technical terms the issues he could feel. It was all a blur of words you couldn’t quite grasp, but you could tell by his tone that he was frustrated.

-୨♡୧-

Saturday came, and it wasn’t the best of results. Lewis had qualified 11th—a decent starting position, but not where he usually found himself. His frustration was palpable, but it was nothing a good evening couldn’t fix. After the race, he took you out to a nice dinner, treating you to some of the finest food in the city. He even bought you a new perfume—a gesture that was more thoughtful than extravagant. The evening ended with you both lying side by side in bed, staring at each other, the soft hum of the city outside the windows creating a peaceful atmosphere.

“Remember like, a month ago…” Lewis started, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. You nodded, prompting him to go on.

“When we were talking about being, like… a proper couple—would you wanna maybe try that?” he asked, his voice cautious, like he wasn’t sure how you’d respond.

You lay there, processing the question. He sounded so nervous, and for a moment, it made you wonder why. Why was he asking? Why now? The uncertainty lingered in the air between you, but after a moment of thought, you gave a small, genuine smile.

“Yeah,” you said softly, making his eyebrows raise in surprise. “Sure—why not?”

-୨♡୧-

Oh, how naive you were.

Less than 24 hours later, you could’ve strangled him.

The race had been a disaster—Lewis had DNF’d, and it was clear he was livid. But it wasn’t the result that was bothering him—it was the way the whole weekend had unraveled, and somehow, he made it your problem.

You didn’t see him at all until after the media duties, and even then, it was like he was avoiding you. He walked past you in the paddock without so much as a glance. You stayed in his driver’s room, trying to give him space, but your patience was wearing thin. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he entered, his body tense, his face still etched with frustration.

He didn’t even look at you.

“Are you oka-” you started, your voice soft, hesitant.

“Just shut up,” he snapped, cutting you off, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard. His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You froze, your mouth falling shut in shock. “All the fucking time, just—‘Lewis, Lewis, Lewis,’” he mocked, mimicking your voice with an exaggerated sigh, his frustration boiling over.

You sat there, stunned, trying to process what was happening. This wasn’t the Lewis you knew—this wasn’t how he usually acted, especially not toward you. The words stung, leaving you speechless, unsure of how to react.

Before you could even respond, he turned to say something else, but you couldn’t take it anymore. You stood up, moving quickly toward the door, your heart pounding in your chest. Without saying a word, you left the room, not wanting to be in the same space as him anymore.

“Wait—no—Y/N—fuck,” Lewis called after you, his voice laced with regret, but it was too late. You were already storming out, heading straight for the nearest taxi, leaving the driver’s room—and Lewis—behind as you made your way to the hotel, the sting of his words lingering in the air between you.

It was almost 10 PM when he finally walked through the door, his presence quiet but heavy. You had been in bed for a while, reading your book as though everything was fine, pretending you didn’t care that he had just hurt you. Of course, you cared—you always cared—but right now, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply it stung.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching you, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment. He called your name softly at first, then again, a little more insistently, when he realized you weren’t responding. When it became clear you were intentionally ignoring him, he sighed, his voice filled with regret.

“I— Princess, I really am sorry.”

Still, you said nothing, keeping your focus on the page, even though you could hear the sincerity in his tone, and the words on the page were melting together, you ignored him. With another heavy sigh, he reached for one of the pillows, dragging it off the bed before retreating to the small sofa across the room. He grabbed the thinnest blanket he could find, folding it around himself as best he could.

“Goodnight,” he said, his voice soft, sad. You didn’t respond, not wanting to break your silence just yet. You turned off your light, rolling over to face the wall, your thoughts swirling.

Sleep came quickly for you, but not for him. The couch was far too small, too uncomfortable for someone his size. You could hear his restless shifting—the soft groans and quiet huffs that filled the room as he tried, unsuccessfully, to find a comfortable position.

Eventually, you woke up to the sound of him fumbling with the couch. You blinked a few times, your mind still fuzzy from sleep, before calling out to him, your voice confused.

“Lewis?”

He froze instantly, embarrassed by the noise he had made. “Sorry,” he muttered, trying to adjust quietly, shifting his body awkwardly to find some semblance of comfort.

By this point, you had hoped he would have just climbed into bed with you. It was obvious he wasn’t getting any sleep on the couch, but he wasn’t making any move to join you. You let out an exasperated sigh, pushing yourself up on one elbow, your eyes adjusting to the dim light in the room. You yawned, looking at him with disbelief.

“Are you seriously still trying to sleep on that thing?”

“It’s fine,” he lied, adjusting the pillow again for what felt like the hundredth time. “Just go back to sleep.”

You rolled your eyes, clearly unimpressed by his stubbornness. “Lewis. Just get in the bed.”

He opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself. “But I—”

“Get in,” you repeated, cutting him off firmly, patting the empty spot next to you.

There was no more arguing after that. With a small grunt of defeat, he climbed into the bed beside you. “Sorry,” he muttered again, though the apology felt more genuine now.

You nodded, not needing to say more. “It’s okay… just shut up now,” you yawned, your eyes drifting shut as you sank back into the pillow.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The room was quiet, the tension still hanging between you, but it was starting to fade. You could feel the weight of the day slowly slipping away, your exhaustion starting to settle in.

And then, without warning, you found yourself crawling toward him, drawn to his warmth. You threw your arm over his chest, resting your head against him, your legs tangling with his under the covers. He tensed at first, clearly surprised by the sudden closeness, but within moments, his body relaxed, and his arm came around you, pulling you into him.

You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your ear, the warmth of his skin beneath your touch, and despite the tension of the night, everything felt right again. Silent, comfortable, and for the first time that evening, at peace.

-୨♡୧-

It had been a few months since the Australian Grand Prix, and now, here you were, trudging around the Silverstone track in the blistering British summer heat. Every step felt like a mountain as jet lag clung to you like a weight, and all you wanted was to collapse into bed for a solid, uninterrupted sleep. But instead, you were stuck walking the track with Lewis—who, despite his usual high energy, seemed to be in no rush.

The two of you had been taking things slowly in your growing relationship, maybe even too slowly for your liking. The pace was frustrating at times, especially when you wanted more but couldn’t push him faster than he was willing to go. You wanted to enjoy your time together, but you couldn’t help feeling like you were standing still while he took his time to figure things out.

But right now, you just wanted to get this walk over with. You glared at the track, imagining it as a long stretch of nothing but sleep.

“Okay, Grandpa, get a move on. I am exhausted,” you said, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice, but it came out sharper than intended.

Lewis shot you a sly smirk, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Well, I can certainly understand why,” he teased, his voice dropping to a playful, suggestive tone. “I did fuck you pretty well—”

Ok, maybe not taking the relationship entirely slowly.

“Okay!” you quickly interrupted, your face flushing with embarrassment. Not in public, please. “No need to be crude in front of the children,” you added, nodding toward Kimi, who was walking a few feet ahead with George and Carmen, all of them oblivious to your exchange.

Lewis burst into laughter, his playful side coming to the surface as he pushed you lightly in retaliation. You responded with the same energy, shoving him back and laughing along with him. The two of you exchanged grins, the tension of the last few months lightening for a moment.

You’d been together for months now, shared countless moments, laughed, argued, spent time together both in and out of bed. You’d done everything that a couple should do, or so you thought.

But there was one thing that hung in the air, unspoken, like a cloud that never seemed to lift: the three words. Those three simple words that could turn the connection between you two into something deeper, something permanent. And yet, despite everything, he still hadn’t said them.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he was waiting for something, or maybe he just wasn’t there yet. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way. You’d never pushed him, never asked for those words, but they were always in the back of your mind, like an unfinished sentence.

Sometimes, you'd see flashes of affection in the way he looked at you, in the little things he did, but there was always this strange emptiness when it came to those words.

But what did it all mean if he couldn’t say it?

-୨♡୧-

Qualifying day dawned, and it was clear that the team had made significant progress overnight. The car felt more alive, and Lewis was able to extract more from it with each lap. He pushed through the first two sessions with a mix of determination and calculated risk, knowing that every second counted.

In Q1, the pace had been good, but there were still a few corners that didn’t feel quite right. It was enough to get him through, though, and as the weekend progressed, the confidence built.

By Q2, Lewis was firing on all cylinders, and the team’s strategy seemed to be paying off. The car’s balance was improving, and with each lap, it was clear he was getting closer to the top.

But when it came time for Q3, the pressure was on. He pushed hard in the final sector, his focus unwavering as he navigated the tight corners, pushing the car to its limits. The lap had been enough to secure 2nd place. He wasn’t quite on pole, but he was in a great position, only a fraction of a second behind the pole sitter.

There was a sense of pride as he climbed out of the car, a slight smile tugging at his lips. He had fought hard for that position, and the team’s work was paying off. The atmosphere in the garage was electric, with engineers high-fiving and congratulating each other. Now, it was all about turning that qualifying pace into a solid race result. But for now, 2nd place felt pretty damn good.

He walked over to you, in the corner of the garage, beaming at you happily with his helmet tucked under his arm. “Not bad for a grandpa, huh?” he teased, his voice laced with playful smugness.

You rolled your eyes at him, fighting back a smile.

“You’ve got to admit, I’ve still got it,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned in slightly, clearly enjoying the moment. He was so proud of what he'd accomplished, and you couldn’t deny that you were proud of him too.

“Did you ever lose it?”

He flashed you a grin, clearly satisfied with your approval, before he leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “God, I love… erm… when you come to races…” he says, clearly stopping himself from saying ‘I love you’. He clears his throat. “It’s not over yet, though. I’m gunning for that top spot tomorrow,” he said, the competitive edge in his voice returning.

You smiled, watching him walk away, the energy around him infectious.

-୨♡୧-

In the dimly lit hotel room, the soft glow of the television illuminated the quiet space. A film was playing, but neither of you were paying much attention to it. You lay there, side by side, your heads nestled into the pillows, the comfort of the bed surrounding you both. The hum of the movie blended with the sound of your voices, an easy conversation flowing between the two of you.

You were close, so close, you could feel the warmth of his body next to yours, his hand resting gently on the bed near yours. There had been an unspoken tension for a while now, something hanging between you both. You could feel it in the way he looked at you when you laughed, in the small touches, the way he’d hold you just a little longer than necessary when you hugged. It was as if the words were right there, on the tip of his tongue.

You were almost sure this was it. This was the moment.

The conversation had shifted, casual at first, but then he turned to you, his expression softening. The way he was looking at you now, it was different—more intense. You could feel your heart start to race, anticipation building.

"I was thinking," he started, his voice quieter than usual. You looked up at him, holding your breath, hoping he was about to say what you were both thinking.

He paused, and you could feel the weight of the silence stretching between you, and in that brief moment, everything felt like it was about to change.

“I—” he began again, his eyes locking onto yours with a gaze that sent a flutter through your chest.

You were ready. This is it, you thought. Finally.

But then, just as you were about to exhale in relief, he shifted in the bed, his expression changing as he sat up slightly, breaking the moment.

“Did you hear about the new engine updates for next race?” he asked, casually, as if he hadn’t just been on the verge of saying something that would change everything.

Your heart sank a little, the words you were waiting for slipping away, replaced by the familiar mention of the track, the car, the race. You blinked, trying to shake off the sudden disappointment, but it lingered in the air.

You nodded slowly, a soft smile playing on your lips, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Yeah, I did. I think we could be in for a good one next time."

He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he did but chose not to acknowledge it, diving into the technical details with his usual enthusiasm. You listened, nodding in all the right places, but in the back of your mind, that moment—the moment—still lingered, unanswered.

You lay back down beside him, the distance between you not in inches, but in the words that had almost been spoken, and the ones that never came.

-୨♡୧-

“Good luck, Lew,” you whispered against his lips, your hand resting on his chest for a brief moment.

Without a word, his lips met yours, a slow, lingering kiss that seemed to stop time for a moment. The buzz of the crowd faded into the background as you melted into the kiss, his hand cradling your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

When he pulled away, his eyes locked onto yours, his voice barely a whisper, “I’ll make it count.” His words were full of focus and confidence, the kind that left no doubt he was determined to win this one. You smiled, your heart swelling in your chest, knowing he would give it everything.

“I’ll be here,” you replied softly, squeezing his hand before he turned and jogged toward his car.

The race began in a blur of roaring engines, speeding cars, and deafening excitement. Lewis was in the zone, navigating the twists and turns of the track with precision and power. You could see it in the way he drove—the focus, the confidence, the hunger for victory. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen, your heart in your throat with every corner.

Then, it happened. With one final push, he crossed the finish line, the roar of the crowd erupting around you. He had done it. He had won his home Grand Prix- again.

The victory was his. And the joy was contagious.

As he pulled into Parc Fermé, you rushed over to the barriers, your heart still racing from the intensity of the race. You were front and center, waiting for him to emerge from his car. When he did, he looked absolutely elated, his face glowing with the purest happiness. He waved to the crowd, then immediately made his way toward his team, hugging everyone in sight. Each embrace, a moment of triumph. You watched as he celebrated with them, his adrenaline clearly still running high.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, he spotted you.

With a wide grin, he sprinted toward you, his helmet still in his hand. The world seemed to pause as he reached you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was no hesitation. He threw his arms around you, pulling you in close, and without a second thought, he took off his helmet, tossing it aside. His lips found yours, this time even more urgent, more intense than before the race. His kiss was full of raw, unbridled emotion—adrenaline coursing through him, the exhilaration of the win, and the joy of having you there with him to share it.

His lips moved against yours with the same intensity as the race itself, as if this moment was the culmination of everything. His hands were everywhere—one holding you close, the other gently cradling your face. You could taste the sweat and the salt from his skin, the remnants of the race, but it was a kiss that felt like everything you had both been waiting for.

When he finally pulled away, breathless, a satisfied grin plastered across his face, he looked down at you, his eyes sparkling with adrenaline.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes, knowing how excited he was, knowing how much this meant to him.

“I love you,” he blurted out, his voice thick with emotion, the words tumbling out without any hesitation, as though the moment had finally come and there was no holding back anymore.

Your eyes widened, surprised by the bluntness of it, but then an exasperated laugh escaped your lips, the tension of the past months lifting off your shoulders. “FINALLY!” you exclaimed, smiling at him as the words sank in. You reached up and kissed him again, this time with even more feeling, pulling him back into you.

“I love you too,” you murmured, your arms around his neck as you kissed him again, this time without holding back. The crowd, the team, the celebrations all seemed distant, fading into the background as you reveled in the most important moment of the day—the one that had been building up for so long.

And in that moment, everything felt perfect.

-୨♡୧-

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witchywithwhiskey · 3 months ago

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another man’s marks

pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader

summary: you're texting with your situationship when he asks for a nude photo—but you're covered in marks left by another man. wanting to see what he'll do, you send a photo of yourself, and you're rewarded with a very torturous and enjoyable reaction.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), masturbation (m), come play, bdsm elements, a lot of biting and marking, orgasm delay, choking, some breath play, some pain play, some dacryphilia, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, some aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior

word count: 7.3k

a/n: so this post came across my dash and i had the thought 'ok but what if you sent a situationship a picture covered in another man's marks?' and i started thinking about how toxic situationship bucky might react and then i wrote the first draft of this fic very quickly 🤭 i actually really love toxic bucky but i'm a little nervous to share this because i just want you all to love him as much as i do 🥺 (and, actually, he's not as toxic as i originally intended but y'know what, that's ok i think). i hope y'all enjoy ♡

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

Let me see your tits, baby.

The text message drew a huff of noise from you, one that was half laugh, half scoff. You were laying in bed, already wearing your pajamas—an oversized tee and panties—and catching up with your situationship, Bucky Barnes, before you went to sleep.

His request wasn’t entirely out of the blue. After asking how your day was, Bucky had started complaining about his day, and you’d known the man long enough to know those kinds of conversations often led to him asking you to send a photo of yourself—though he usually wanted a picture of what panties you were wearing.

Most of the time, you didn’t hesitate to take a picture to send to him. But that time, you paused.

You liked Bucky. You liked talking to him and hearing about his day, and when you were together, you had fun. Plus, you liked sending photos of yourself to him, and you enjoyed the fact that he wanted to see your body when he wasn’t with you. It stroked your ego when he asked for a photo, and he always responded with filthy praise that turned you on.

But that particular night, you had a problem preventing you from simply taking a photo. And, really, the problem was partly to blame on Bucky.

From the beginning, he’d said he didn’t do relationships, he’d told you he wasn’t ready to commit to just one person. He’d been clear and up front about what he wanted, and it was nothing more than a situationship, which was fine with you. You liked him, but you weren’t going to beg for more.

But you’d also decided that if he wasn’t going to commit to you, then you certainly weren’t going to clear out your roster just for him. You weren’t going to be one of those girls sitting at home pining away for some guy. Not even Bucky Barnes.

Which, in a long, winding way, led to your current predicament.

After all, there was a difference between Bucky being vaguely aware you were still hooking up with other guys—since you occasionally referenced your roster—and him seeing the evidence of it. And you had to wonder how he’d react if you took a picture of your tits in the state they were that evening…

It had only been about a day since your last hookup, and your mind wandered to the night before. You’d met up with one of the other guys on your roster, John Walker, and had a decently enjoyable dick appointment. You hadn’t expected Bucky or any of the other men on your roster to ask for pics, so you’d let John do what he wanted to your body.

If there were two things you knew about John Walker, it was that he and Bucky hated each other, and he loved your tits. John loved playing with them, he loved sucking on them, and he loved leaving hickeys all over them. Which he’d done the night before—and then proceeded to give you a not very satisfying orgasm.

Sure, it’d done the trick in the moment, but not even 24 hours later, you were already restless again, your body needing a proper release, which you knew Bucky could give you. But you weren’t planning to see Bucky for at least a couple days, not until the evidence of your hookup with John had faded.

Lifting your shirt, you looked at John’s handiwork. Your tits were dotted all over with at least a dozen tiny little love bites, and your body warmed as you remembered the knife-edged pleasure that came along with each little mark. They were so recent, the bruises were still reddish, not having yet fully faded to a dark purple.

As you looked at them, you had a devious thought—what would Bucky do if he saw John’s marks on your body? Would he blow you off, stop talking to you, maybe even ghost you? Or would he need to see you so badly that he’d come over to your apartment? Would he fuck you and give you the release you needed?

Thinking through your options, you knew it would be the kind, respectful thing to send Bucky an older photo, one of your tits when they were entirely unblemished. You had plenty of photos like that on your phone—and Bucky probably wouldn’t even notice if you sent him the same photo twice.

Or… You could send Bucky a photo of your tits covered in another man’s hickeys. You could, if he asked, tell him exactly who had given you all those hickeys. And then, you could see what Bucky would do about it.

A wicked smile crept across your face as you came to a decision.

Lifting your shirt again, you arched your body toward the light in your room, making sure the marks were clearly visible on your skin, then you snapped a photo of your tits. Before you could talk yourself out of the idea that was probably toxic and definitely a little mean, you sent the photo to Bucky.

His reply was almost instantaneous.

Who the fuck did that to you.

You bit back your mischievous giggle, even if you were alone in your room and there was no one to hear the evil way you wanted to cackle at Bucky’s response. Excited thrills raced through your veins, warmth blooming between your thighs at the anger laced in his text message.

You knew you’d be pushing him further toward anger by answering his question—you knew how much Bucky and John hated each other—but he’d asked. And besides, you were hoping he’d take out all that anger on your body in the most delicious of ways. So you sent a simple response.

John Walker.

You waited for Bucky’s response.

And waited.

But as the minutes ticked by and Bucky didn’t text back, your heart sank more and more, and the delighted smile on your face flattened into a frown. You began to think Bucky might actually be ghosting you.

For only a moment, you let yourself feel disappointed at the way your phone didn’t light up with another text from your situationship, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be sad over a man like Bucky Barnes. Even if he fucked you way better than John Walker or any of the other guys on your roster. Even if you liked him more than any of the other guys you’d been with.

Hauling yourself up from your bed, you went through your nighttime routine, brushing your teeth and washing your face while listening to music. It wasn’t until you were about to slip into bed and go to sleep that your phone buzzed with a new text message.

Your heart lept into your throat when you saw it was Bucky and you scrambled to read his response, eager to know what had taken him so long. Your breath caught in your throat and excitement buzzed wildly through your veins when you saw what he’d written.

I’m outside. Open your door.

A shiver of anticipation zipped down your spine as you bounded out of bed, an ecstatic grin spreading across your face at the realization that you’d got what you wanted—Bucky was at your apartment. And he was going to do something about the photo you’d sent him.

It took all your self control not to run to your apartment door and fling it open excitedly to greet Bucky. Instead, you forced yourself to take your sweet time padding to the door, your movements deliberately lazy as you unlocked it and swung it open.

Bucky Barnes loomed on the other side, his head hanging between stiff arms, his hands braced on either edge of the frame like he was holding himself back from kicking down your door. His broad shoulders were bunched up, his short, brown hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it. His chest was heaving as he breathed harshly.

When he lifted his head, the stubborn possessiveness in his darkened blue eyes slashed right through to your heart. He’d never looked at you that way before, and you had the terrible, fleeting thought that you could get used to being the only girl Bucky looked at so possessively.

For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. Then, Bucky stalked forward, crowding you into your apartment and gathering you up in his strong arms while he kicked the door shut behind him. It closed with a rough slam that had your pulse skittering in your veins, your heart already pounding in your chest as Bucky crushed you in his arms.

His gaze held yours and there was something about the emotions swirling his eyes, a mixture of uncompromising possessiveness and lustful determination, that felt dangerous. Not to your body, but to your heart.

“You got a lotta nerve sending me a picture with another man’s marks on you,” Bucky growled as he walked you backward toward your bedroom, his hands groping your hips and ass like every inch of your body belonged to him. “You weren’t trying to make me jealous, were you, baby?”

His words were a furious hiss that he punctuated by ducking down and snapping his teeth at your plump lower lip, biting you roughly enough to wring a gasp from your lungs. Between your thighs, you could feel your pulse pumping needily, your body aching for so much more of Bucky’s rough treatment even as you forced yourself not to cower and submit like you wanted.

Pushing against Bucky’s shoulders until he leaned back and you could catch his eye, you quirked an eyebrow at him in a dry expression of amusement.

“You’re a big boy, Bucky,” you said, before pausing to run your tongue along your lower lip, feeling the tender spot he’d bitten. Dark satisfaction swirled in your chest, but you made yourself shrug indifferently. “And I’m not your girlfriend—so if you’re jealous, that’s your problem, not mine.”

“You let him mark you,” Bucky snarled, an accusation in his tone as he stared deep into your eyes.

For a moment—just a brief moment—you saw a hurt look in Bucky’s gaze, and it pricked at something deep in your heart. Something you refused to look at or examine, especially not with Bucky standing right in front of you. You didn’t want to think about the fact that Bucky might’ve been hurt by your actions, or that you cared about his feelings enough to want to apologize.

But you supposed you could take pity on him. You’d tormented him enough for one night.

“Yeah,” you said, cocking your head to the side, a sly smirk curving your lips. “And what are you gonna do about it, daddy?” You practically purred the final word, knowing how Bucky would react to it.

Just like that, the hurt vanished from Bucky’s expression and heat sparked in his icy blue eyes, a menacing smile pulling across his face.

“You wanna see what I’m gonna do about it?” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. ��Oh, baby, you’re not fucking ready for what I’m gonna do to your pretty little slutty body.”

Bucky crowded into you, pushing you backward until your legs hit your bed, and then he was shoving you down to the soft blankets. You crawled backward into the center of the bed while Bucky toed out of his shoes and took off his jacket, leaving him in only a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants.

Once he’d tossed his jacket somewhere in your room, he didn’t waste anymore time, prowling onto the bed and using his hands to push up the hem of your oversized tee. His head fell to your body, his teeth nipping harshly at your soft belly to make you squeal and squirm as he worked his way up. He delivered the same treatment to the curves of your brests and the delicate skin of your collarbone.

When his face finally hovered above yours, his breathing was harsh and his expression was filled with a determination so stubborn, you knew you were going to have a long night while Bucky showed you why you shouldn’t let another man mark your body.

“You’re not leaving this bed until you’ve got so many of my fucking marks on your body that you won’t even think about sending nudes to anyone else,” Bucky growled, tugging off your tee, pushing your legs open so he could settle between them, and descending on your tits.

He found the first of John’s marks and sank his teeth into the skin around it, sucking hard on the already aching bruise. The spot gave a little twinge of pain from Bucky’s rough treatment, but it only mixed deliciously with the pleasure he was dragging from your body, and your fingers threaded into his hair, clinging to him while he sucked on your skin.

Bucky worked the reddish-purple blemish relentlessly with his mouth and teeth until it was bright again, and so much larger than the mark John had left. Then, when he was done, Bucky moved on to the next hickey, scraping his teeth over the bruise and wringing a helpless cry from your lips before he sucked the curve of your tit into his mouth.

It went on like that for you didn’t know how long, Bucky working methodically down and across your chest, sucking and biting every bruise John had left behind on your body until each one was replaced with a new, bigger mark.

If you begged Bucky for more—or tried to push his furious mouth down toward your pussy, which was throbbing almost painfully with need—he’d simply narrow his eyes at you, giving you a look like you’d known exactly what you were getting yourself into when you’d sent that photo to him. Then he’d work his mouth even harder, even more roughly against your body, until you were tossing your head back into your pillows and moaning your pleasure.

By the time he was done, you were nothing more than a whimpering, pleading mess beneath him. Your eyes were filled with tears of desperation, and your inner thighs were sticky with the sheer amount of desire soaking your panties and coating your trembling flesh.

“Daddy, please,” you begged on a sob, shoving at Bucky’s shoulders to get his attention as he roughly kissed a spot in the valley between your tits, licking and sucking a new hickey into your skin.

At the sound of your ragged voice, Bucky lifted his head, but you could already tell by the determined glint in his eye and the stubborn set of his jaw that he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted just yet.

“Hush, baby,” he rasped in a dark, patronizing tone, lowering his mouth back to your chest and sucking on the hickey he’d just left. “Daddy’s just getting started marking your beautiful body with all the pretty little bruises I want.” His voice was a rough growl that reverberated beneath your skin.

Between your thighs, you could feel more of your desire trickling into your panties, which were already soaked all the way through and sticking to your clammy skin. A whine worked its way up your throat and spilled from your lips before you could stop it, your legs squirming around Bucky’s sides, trying to grind your cunt against his body but unable to get the angle right.

While you wriggled frustratedly, Bucky paid you no mind, shifting down your body as he picked a spot for his next mark. When his teeth sank into the soft flesh of your belly, you cried out, arching up off the bed and spreading your thighs wider to make room for Bucky’s broad shoulders.

Your fingers twisted in his soft brown hair, trying to push his head down further, until it was between your thighs, whimpering a soft sob of, “Bucky, please.”

But Bucky was having none of it. Despite your pleading and protests, he took his time, only peeling your panties away from your soppy wet cunt after taking his time leaving a trail of hickeys on your belly.

When he saw how wet you were, Bucky chuckled and murmured, “Such a messy little slut, baby.”

He’d said the words fondly and, if you weren’t mistaken, there was affection in the curve of his smile that had you feeling something you didn’t want to look at too closely. But your treacherous heart beat a little harder all the same.

Then his words sank into your lust-soaked mind and heat bloomed in your face at the gentle degradation. But what little shame you could conjure up only mixed with the burning of your desire as you stared down into Bucky’s darkened eyes, holding his gaze while he took off your panties and tossed them somewhere in your room.

He turned his focus back to the juncture of your thighs, shoving your legs wide open and smirking when you let out a helpless little moan at the feeling of the cool air brushing against your heated, dripping cunt. You were so worked up, you could feel your inner muscles clenching around nothing, needing to be filled with something.

“Your pussy’s winking at me, baby,” Bucky rumbled, laughter in his voice as he spread your pussy open with his fingers. You could feel it, your body winking at the man between your thighs like you were begging him to slide inside you—his fingers or his cock, you didn’t care. “She wants me bad, doesn’t she, baby?”

Bucky’s taunting words had you covering your face and letting out a low, tortured groan even as your hips twitched, your body yearning desperately to be filled, to be fucked. “Bucky,” you whined, drawing out his name pitifully as your hips bucked into his hands, seeking more of his touch.

But Bucky didn’t oblige your body’s request. His hands skimmed away from your pussy and along your thighs to hold you behind your knees, pushing your legs up to your chest so you were bared fully to his heated gaze. When you peeked out from between your fingers, you saw him staring hungrily down at your cunt, but at your movement, his gaze flicked up and caught yours.

“Do ya want me that bad, baby?” Bucky purred, ducking down to nuzzle his scruffy cheek against your inner thigh—so close to where you needed him, but still too far away. On instinct, your hips bucked upward, trying to press your pussy against Bucky’s face, but he held you down, grinning as he went on. “Ya want daddy’s fat cock to pound into your cute little cunt, huh, baby—want it hard and rough so you’ll be feeling me in your pretty pussy for days?”

“Oh god yes—yes, please, Bucky��daddy, please, I need your cock,” you babbled desperately, your hips squirming as you humped the empty air, seeking any part of Bucky that you could grind your aching cunt against. You didn’t care if it was his mouth or his cheek or his shoulder, you needed something.

Instead of giving you that, though, Bucky turned his face and sank his teeth deep into your thigh, hard enough that your pussy pulsed violently and you thought you were going to cum. But you didn’t.

Once the blinding sensation of pain and pleasure passed, you knew you wouldn’t manage to tip over the edge just from Bucky’s teasing. You weren’t going to cum until he finally paid attention to your pussy, and somehow you suspected Bucky knew that.

“Tell me how bad you want me,” he growled, sucking on your skin and beginning to leave a new mark on your inner thigh. His gaze was locked on yours as he stared up your body, past your heaving chest that was already littered with his marks, commanding you with the stubborn, possessive look in his eyes to do as he said.

“Want you so bad, daddy,” you cried, your whole body trembling like a leaf in a bitter autumn wind. Tears of frustration and need were pooling in your eyes again and you knew that if Bucky kept edging you for much longer, they were going to spill down your cheeks. “Want you more than anything—anything—please just fuck me!”

Bucky’s eyes glittered, the possessiveness is his gaze deepening and turning into something feral as he stared up your body. Finally, his mouth pulled away from your quivering thigh—after he placed one last affectionate kiss on the mark he’d left.

“Tell me you want me more than John fucking Walker,” he spit out, shifting his head to your other thigh and sinking his teeth into your soft flesh as he held you pinned to your bed with his thick biceps wrapped around your legs.

Your heart fluttered in your chest and your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected to get such a reaction out of Bucky when you’d sent him that picture of your tits with John’s marks all over them. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. Not when he was looking at you like you were his while he sucked yet another mark into your skin.

“I want you so much more than him,” you murmured. “I want your marks on me, I want your cock and your cum in me—I want you, Bucky.”

The words tumbled from your lips—the ones Bucky had demanded—and you were more than a little surprised by the vehemence in your voice, and how easy it was to admit you wanted Bucky more than John.

Sure, you’d known he was a better fuck than John, but things with Bucky felt right in a way they didn’t with any of the other men on your roster. Like the two of you fit together somehow.

And that scared you. It scared you enough that you rushed on, forcing yourself to raise an eyebrow at Bucky and muster a dry tone as you asked, “Is that what you wanted to hear?” You could detect the hitch of emotion beneath the taunting tone of your voice, but with any luck, Bucky wouldn’t.

Thankfully, he seemed not to notice, responding to your words by growling into the soft flesh of your thigh, his eyes narrowing into a glare. He gave the hickey he’d sucked into your skin one last pull, then pushed himself up.

Before you could beg again for him to fuck you, Bucky roughly grabbed your hips and flipped you over. His teeth sank so hard into the plush curve of your ass, you screeched into your pillows. There was more pain than pleasure that time, but Bucky knew the edge you liked to walk and he didn’t give you more than you could handle.

As it was, even more wetness flooded between your thighs and you writhed beneath Bucky’s big body, all the small stinging aches of the marks he’d left blending with the pulsing throb of need coursing through your veins. It was enough to break the damn of your tears and you sobbed into your pillows.

“Bucky, please, please, I need your dick,” you cried, straining your neck to look at him over your shoulder.

Bucky’s dark blue eyes were narrowed into slits and when he finally pulled his teeth from your ass, he continued glowering at you, looking grumpy and almost entirely unbothered by your pleas. You knew he wasn’t entirely unaffected, though, because his cock twitched against your thigh when he saw your tear-stained face.

“Tell me you won’t do it again and I might consider giving you some dick,” he growled, holding your gaze as he ducked down to lick and soothe the bite mark he’d left on your asscheek.

“I won’t send you another picture covered in John’s marks, I promise,” you rushed to say, arching your back and whining. Your body was moving on its own, trying to present your pussy to Bucky, but he only scraped his teeth over the mark he’d left in your skin.

“Not good enough,” Bucky grumbled, shifting to your other cheek and sinking his teeth into your ass, giving you another bite mark. When you hissed at the pain, Bucky relented, stroking his tongue over the spot as he sucked on your skin. “No one else gets to mark you but me.”

You had to look away to hide the way your eyes rolled at that demand. Bucky wouldn’t commit to you, but he wanted you to promise you wouldn’t let another man mark you. Fucking men. You glared into your pillows, not saying anything and hoping he’d drop it if you didn’t respond.

He didn’t.

“Say it, baby,” Bucky growled, leaning to the side and slapping your ass. He managed to hit the exact spot he’d bitten, which was tender from his teeth and mouth, making you cry out. “Say I’m the only one allowed to mark you.”

“Men who aren’t my boyfriend don’t get to make demands like that, James,” you snarled, turning to glare at him over your shoulder.

The two of you glared at each other for a long minute. You knew Bucky could be stubborn, but you could be much more stubborn when you wanted to be—and you fucking wanted to right then. If Bucky thought you were going to let him dictate what you could or couldn’t do with other men while he refused to commit, he had another thing coming.

Slowly, Bucky shifted up onto his hands, climbing up your body with the languid movements of a predator until his bigger form covered your smaller one.

Still, you glared at each other.

His hand pushed his sweatpants down until his cock bounced free, the stiff length slapping your ass lightly. His precum immediately started leaking into the valley between your cheeks, and your pussy pulsed in desire.

Still, you glared at each other.

“Say it, or you’re not getting my dick,” Bucky rumbled obstinately, pushing his stiff length between your thighs to drag against your dripping wet slit.

You sucked in a sharp breath and arched your back, giving him more of your pussy to rub against—but that didn’t mean you were going to submit to his ridiculous demand. And he wasn’t going to turn you into a liar.

“Say you’re my boyfriend, or you’re not getting my pussy, daddy,” you retorted, putting as much mocking sarcasm into the nickname as you could manage.

Bucky’s eyes flashed with so much annoyance, you couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that curled your lips, which only made his face contort in even more frustration.

His hand reached between your thighs, pressing his cock deep into your slippery folds until the head caught at your tight hole. But he didn’t push inside. Instead, he let the tip slide through your folds to grind against your clit.

Need and desire pounded an unceasing drumbeat beneath your skin, your hands curling into fists in your blankets as you bit back a desperate moan. But you didn’t let your face go slack with pleasure, you kept right on glaring at Bucky over your shoulder, even as he repeated the motion, teasing your tight little pussy with the head of his big cock.

Finally, something in Bucky snapped and he ducked down, capturing your mouth in a savage kiss, his lips and teeth attacking yours until both of you were breathless with need. You were practically vibrating with it beneath Bucky’s big body, and even his arms were trembling when you blinked your eyes open as he pulled away.

“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, baby,” Bucky rumbled, his voice so low and gravelly, you felt its deep tenor roll down your spine and settle deliciously in your core. As he spoke, he tilted his hips just the right amount and pushed the head of his cock into your dripping hole, making both of you groan in pleasure.

“Right back at ya, daddy,” you quipped at him, your voice embarrassingly breathless as you clung to the blankets of your bed and arched your spine, pushing back into Bucky as he pressed forward.

It took one long, glorious moment for Bucky to sink the full length of his cock inside your drenched, sopping wet pussy, and you nearly blacked out at how good it felt after so long of his teasing torture.

He was bigger and thicker than any man you’d ever been with—though you’d never in a million years admit that to him—and it was always a little overwhelming when he first slid inside. But you loved it. You loved the way your body stretched to fit him, the way you could feel your pussy wrapped so snugly around his thick length. You loved the way you could feel him throb and twitch inside you, especially when he was close to cumming.

And you could tell by the way his cock was twitching inside your tight hole that he was already close. That was good, because after all his teasing had worked you up, you didn’t think you were going to last long anyway.

Bucky gave you a moment to adjust to his size while he yanked his t-shirt over his head. Then he was pressing his bare chest to your back and pushing you deeper into the soft blankets of your bed until you lay prone beneath his strong body.

Only then did he pull his hips back, making you feel every delicious inch of his thick cock, before slamming inside again. Wrapping his arm underneath your neck, he tucked his bicep beneath your chin and held you pinned to his chest, forcing you to arch your spine more and feel the way his hips clapped against your ass as he pounded into you.

“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, baby,” Bucky growled in your ear, grinding his cock into the depths of your cunt until you were whimpering beneath him. “You’re daddy’s good little slut, and only daddy can fuck your pussy the way you need it, isn’t that right?”

“Yes—yes, daddy, you fuck me so good,” you cried out, hands scrabbling at the bed sheets for leverage to push back into him.

“Tell me what I want to hear,” he demanded harshly in your ear, the words sinking into the deepest parts of your brain.

A twisted smile curled the corners of your mouth because you knew exactly what Bucky wanted to hear, and you were only too happy to give it to him. It was safer to admit what you were about to admit because it was the heat of the moment, and you hoped Bucky would think you were just saying it to make him happy. Only you could know that you meant every word.

“You fuck me so much better than John, daddy,” you purred, pushing your hips back into Bucky’s thrusts, forcing him deeper into your cunt until you were so full of him, you thought he was imprinting himself on your very being. “Your dick feels so good, so big, daddy—you’re the only man who fucks me so good, Bucky, you’re the best dick I’ve ever had. ”

“Fuck—fuck, baby,” Bucky bit out, his mouth brushing against your cheek, his stubble rasping against your skin and making you shiver. He fucked you harder, faster, rutting into your slick cunt like he was trying to leave another mark inside you. “Rub your clit for me, wanna feel you cum on my fat cock.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You slid your hand between the blankets and your body, slipping it between your thighs and circling the tight nub of your clit with a viciousness that matched how Bucky was fucking you. Your inner walls clenched down hard on Bucky’s cock, dragging filthy groans from both your mouths as he pushed deeper and began grinding inside you.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “Never felt anything so tight.” He let out a harsh breath, his forehead falling to your shoulder as he kept up his relentless fucking, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of your release. “Feels like you’re choking my cock, baby—I can’t hold on much longer.”

“Choke me, daddy,” the words tumbled from your lips before you could stop yourself, the deepest recesses of your brain responding to Bucky’s words in a plea for one of your darkest desires.

Bucky’s bicep and forearm squeezed the sides of your neck instantaneously, giving you what you begged for and cutting off some of your air so you were forced to gasp for every little breath. You pussy squeezed tighter around his cock, wringing a rasping chuckle from the depths of his chest.

“You’re such a filthy, depraved little slut, baby,” Bucky murmured teasingly in your ear before nipping the shell with his teeth, dragging a ragged cry from your lips. “Ya like it when daddy chokes you, huh? Bet John fucking Walker doesn’t choke you like this, does he?”

“No,” you gasped, your voice hoarse but genuine as you admitted, “He’d never choke me—he’d never treat me like a slut.”

“That’s fucking right,” Bucky growled, somehow managing to fuck you even harder, his hips snapping into your ass so hard, you could hear the sharp clapping of his skin against yours even over his heavy breaths panting in your ear.

“I’m the only man who can fuck you like you need it—dirty and rough. That’s how you like it, isn’t it, baby—you like being fucked like a slut?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, as much in response to Bucky’s debauched question as to the feeling of his cock pounding into your cunt. You were so close—so close you could barely think, but you knew everything Bucky was saying was right. He was the only man who fucked you the way you needed it, and you needed to cum on his cock.

Thankfully, Bucky seemed to want the same thing.

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled in your ear, his hips slamming his cock into your body hard enough to nearly hurt, but the pain-edged pleasure only pushed you closer to your release. “Cum on daddy’s cock while he’s choking your pretty little neck and fucking you like the filthy slut you are.”

Bucky’s words and his cock, and your fingers on your clit, sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and a ragged scream tearing free from your lips. Pleasure consumed you, body and mind alike, until all you knew was the sensation of ecstasy drowning out everything else.

It went on for one long, endless moment, pleasure pulsing through your being until it finally abated. Then, the world began to reform around you. Slowly, you returned to yourself, Bucky’s cock still driving into you, his thrusts turning wild and desperate as he growled in your ear.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby,” he was rumbling, rutting into you while your pussy squeezed him in a perfect clenching rhythm. “Feels like your cunt’s begging for my cum. Is that it? Ya want my cum that fucking bad, baby?”

“Yesss,” you moaned, your limbs melting beneath him as you savored the feeling of Bucky chasing his release in your body. “Want your cum, daddy, please gimme it,” you whimpered, weakly pushing your hips into his big body in a wordless plea.

Bucky grunted a soft, “Fuck,” and then pressed deep, burying his cock to the hilt in your still pulsing cunt as he came. He let out a long groan, his cock twitching against your inner walls while he emptied his balls into your pussy, the warmth of his cum filling you up.

It felt so good, your lips curled at the edges in a happy smile. Every part of you felt warm and satisfied, and you basked in the unmatched afterglow that came in the wake of getting fucked by Bucky Barnes.

When he was finally spent, Bucky eased his hips back, pulling out of you gently so he didn’t hurt your thoroughly used pussy. You appreciated the effort, even if you did feel a pang in your gut at the loss of him, like your body was mourning his absence.

Bucky rolled off you and flopped onto his back, leaving you limp and sated.

And cold.

The man who’d just fucked you better than anyone else ever had made no move to pull your naked body into his, but that wasn’t surprising. Bucky wasn’t the type to initiate post-sex snuggling, though he didn’t stop you from cuddling into him if you initiated it.

Gathering your strength, you heaved your body toward Bucky, draping yourself on top of him, wrapping an arm over his stomach and hitching your thigh over his hip. Your cooling skin pressed to his heated body as you tucked your face into his neck, cooing happily when his arm curled around your shoulders, holding you against his side.

But a post-sex snuggle wasn’t the only thing you’d been looking for.

Your mouth found the side of Bucky’s neck, your lips working against his skin, kissing and sucking and biting him while he rumbled soft sounds of satisfied pleasure. You didn’t stop until you’d left a hickey, but when you pulled away to get a look at it, you decided it wasn’t enough.

After all, you were literally covered in his marks.

So you went back to work, sucking on the hickey until the bruise was so big, there’d be no hiding it—not unless Bucky suddenly started wearing turtlenecks. Somehow, you knew he wouldn’t. You knew he’d wear your hickey proudly, even if it meant he might not get laid until it faded.

When you were finally satisfied with your work, you brushed one last kiss to the hickey, and settled down at Bucky’s side. Your cheek pressed to his chest and you listened to his heart thumping a steady drumbeat beneath his pecs.

For a moment, you were both quiet, enjoying the feel of each other. Then Bucky fished his phone out of the pocket of his discarded sweatpants, which he’d kicked off at some point. He held the device aloft over the two of you, tilting his head to the side and using the front-facing camera to look at the mark you’d left.

“I guess I deserve this,” he commented, trailing his fingers over the gigantic hickey. There was no anger or annoyance in his tone, though, only amusement. He skimmed his fingers down to your shoulder and gently rearranged your arm until the marks he’d left on the sides of your tits were visible. “Now we’re even.”

A snickering smile curved your mouth and you were about to retort that you weren’t anywhere close to even, but the soft click of Bucky’s phone snapping a photo cut you off.

Reaching up, you tapped the screen to show the picture and you had to admit, it was pretty cute. The hickey on Bucky’s neck was prominent and he wore a cocky grin on his attractive face while you smirked into his chest, his marks dotting your skin even though you weren’t revealing too much of your breasts.

It was the kind of photo you’d consider setting as your phone’s background if Bucky was your boyfriend.

He wasn’t, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still want it.

“Send that to me,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

But Bucky must’ve heard how much you wanted the picture, because he chuckled evilly, pulling the phone out of your reach. When you lifted your head to glare at him, there was a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

“If I send this to you, you gotta promise not to let John mark you up again.”

That time, you let him see you roll your eyes while you reminded him, “Only boyfriends get to make demands like that, Bucky.”

Huffing a frustrated sigh and giving you a half-hearted glare, Bucky tapped the screen of his phone a couple times. A second later, your phone buzzed with a text and when you glanced at it, you saw he’d sent you the photo of the two of you.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I just don’t ever wanna see his fucking marks on your body again.”

You nodded your agreement, saying, “That’s fair.” It was the least you could do, all things considered.

Bucky laughed to himself at your easy agreement, then pushed you onto your back and spread your thighs while he sat up on his knees between your legs. “Now, smile pretty for daddy, baby. I wanna take some photos of all the hard work I did marking you up.”

A pleased grin pulled across your face. As much as you enjoyed taking pictures and sending them to Bucky, you loved it even more when he wanted to take pictures of you himself. So you laid on the bed and let Bucky position you how he wanted so he could take photos of his handiwork.

“You gonna jerk off to these when you get home, daddy?” you taunted, staring up at Bucky and smiling for his camera. “Gonna rub your cock to pictures of your marks all over me?”

Bucky’s eyes flashed and his cock twitched between his thick thighs, making your smirk widen. You knew you were provoking him again, but you couldn’t seem to stop.

“You gonna make yourself cum looking at photos of me covered in your marks, daddy?”

Your teasing comments led to you laying helplessly beneath Bucky, his knees keeping your thighs spread wide so you couldn’t grind against anything while he jerked himself off with his fist. The only thing he allowed you to do was knead and grope your tits, your pleasure mixing with aching pain from the bruises covering your skin.

Bucky came like that, his cum covering your fingers and chest in ropes of his seed, marking you all over again.

He took even more photos of the sight of your hands playing with your cum-covered tits, then fucked your pussy with his fingers, sounding very pleased with himself when he teased you for getting off on him making a mess of your slutty body and pushing his cum deeper inside you.

It was late when Bucky finally left your apartment, and you realized you’d been right. It had been a very long night. But even though you knew you’d only get a couple hours of sleep before work, it had been so worth it to text Bucky that photo of your tits covered in another man’s marks.

Over the next few days, Bucky demanded an endless stream of photos of the bruises he’d left on your tits and ass. He was busy at the office and the two of you couldn’t find time to see each other, but he didn’t want to miss any of the progression of the marks he’d left as the hickeys deepened into a dark plum color on your skin.

It turned you on to send so many photos, to see the constant reminder of the marks he’d left on your body, so you indulged Bucky every time he asked for more photos. It helped that he responded with a mixture of sweet degradation and filthy praise that had your heart beating harder in your chest and wetness gathering between your thighs.

Every night for a week, you got yourself off to the dirty things Bucky texted you, the promises of what he was going to do to your body the next time he saw you. But more than anything else, you kept going back to the possessive text message he’d sent the day after he’d been to your apartment, rubbing your clit to Bucky’s words.

Don’t you dare show John fucking Walker your tits with my marks on them, baby. Those marks on your body are all fucking mine, and they’re only for you and me.

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #toxic bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series

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boyfhee · 10 months ago

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박성훈 、PRETTY FACE

all the trouble sunghoon gets himself in lands him in your arms.

featuring ⋆ rich boy! sunghoon x fem reader

contents ⋆ kissing, mentions of cuts, injuries and blood, just a whole lot of fluff i miss writing cute stuff, insecurities perhaps ( 1370 )

notes ⋆ rich boy sunghoon....save me from him. also this was not meant to be above a thousand words and was supposed to be funny. and this one's for saint @hoonvrs hi bae

one thing you’ve learnt while dating sunghoon, it’s always an adventure. so unforeseen, like when he showed up at your balcony, again, last night with a few bruises and cuts on his face. you had let him in and he avoids your attempt at cupping his face just as swiftly. and dating sunghoon is exhilarating, with the way you let him stay for the night, again, knowing your parents are home.

“good morning,” you smile and brush your thumb over the cut on the corner of his lips. it’s red, his lips are dry, and yet they’re soft when you lean down for a quick peck.

“morning, sweetheart,” he says quietly. “how creepy of you to watch me sleep,”

“guess i’ll be a creep if it means i get to look at your handsome face,” you hum, fighting back a smile.

“is that a compliment i hear?” and he’s almost turning away to sleep, but your words catch him off, and he smirks drowsily with a soft and sleepy gaze adorning you. “what’s the occasion?”

“i’m serious, hoon. you’re handsome,” you insist with a frown, cupping his face again, thumb brushing over his cheeks as you lean in and whisper ever so tenderly. “so handsome, it’s crazy,”

“well, aren’t you sweet, my love,” and he can’t help but wrap his arms around you, pulling you on top of him. it’s quiet, you lay with your head on his chest. it’s barely six, you look out through the huge glass window panes installed in your room by your request to fit the aesthetic, but now it’s how sunghoon climbs up your room every other night.

it’s not usual for him to get compliments. usually, you’re trying to play it cool, as if his words don’t affect you as much as he thinks they do. on other days, you’re busy rolling your eyes every time he flirts. you make him work for compliments, it’s funny, and he enjoys it. a little bit of challenge in his way too easy lifestyle keeps him going. but today— as you’re quietly listening to his heartbeat while he’s caressing your back— you want to stay like this.

he brushes his fingers through your hair, planting soft kisses on your head every few seconds. it’s rare for you two to be this quiet. with sunghoon, every minute spent on bed leads to something else, most of the time. but this time it’s silent, it’s risky, he’s in your room and as much as he jokes about it, the idea of being caught by your parents isn’t something either of you fancy.

“i think i should get up and leave before your—” it lands upon you to worry about keeping everything a secret, today it’s his job to make sure the secret is safe.

“it stings, doesn’t it?” you cut him off immediately, pinning him down as he tries to get up. he can see the concern in your eyes, worries trickling through your finger tips and seeping through his skin when you lace your fingers over his scratches.

“i told you, they’re not that bad,” he shrugs, too careless, carefree. he doesn’t know why you worry yourself over something so minor. “they don’t even hurt,”

“it hurts me to see you like this,” and his thoughts are put to halt when the words leave your mouth.

it was half past one when sunghoon knocked at the glass doors of your balcony. you were getting ready for bed after movies, and he was avoiding your gaze as you were running your eyes over his state— messy, hurt, and so were you.

‘did you get into another fight with heeseung?’ you had asked and he avoided, again, dodging all your questions and attempts to check on him. you let him in, and he goes straight to your bathroom. his gaze doesn’t meet your eyes, he avoids all the eye contact and conversation. he turns away to take off his shirt covered in dirt. it’s worse this time. ‘come here,’

you grabbed his arm to pull him towards you, but he refused to face you. he’s ashamed, like every time he is when you see him like this. the pretty face you’ve always been so fond of no longer fits the definition. you tried to make him look at you, but he grabbed your hands, kissing your palms and pulled you to bed.

“is that a new way of telling me to not get into fights?” he asks, feigning a yawn, a faint chuckle following by. you’re still on top of him, pinning him down, and if he didn’t know any better, you would’ve ended up under him already.

“is it working?”

“a bit,” he mumbles quietly and pulls you closer by your waist, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck. he keeps planting tender kisses on your cheeks, and then down on your neck, as if telling you to let go of all the concerns that plague your mind. “you worry too much,”

“i know, i will continue to do that,” you pull back again, much to his disappointment. nothing could compare to the feeling of having you in his arms. “if not for your dad and for the sake of your reputation then at least for me, you need to stop,”

sunghoon knows.

if not for anything— it isn’t for anything else. not for his mother’s million dollars fashion brand, not for his sister’s business ventures, nor his father’s political career. it’s for you, every scratch, every nip and every cut, every drop of blood that had trickled down the corner of his lips when heeseung landed a punch on his face. how could he not? sunghoon can stand anything but people talking down on you as if they know you. it makes him fight for you and funnily enough, he’s happy to bleed to death for you.

“you always ruin the mood, bringing that old man up,” he’s deflecting— just as you had expected and you’re not backing down. one leg swinging to the other side, arms by his head. he’s down, caged, a position where he can’t avoid you. it’s about time you two had this conversation.

“i’m serious,” you’re trying your best to keep up the stern face, eyes locked into his.

“i love it when you get all serious, angel,” he grins suggestively, arms around your waist again. he’s slipping them under your top, you slap it away and it only makes him laugh in amusement. “i suppose it is a bit too early for that,”

you don’t say anything, just looking at his pretty face. you stroke softly over the cut on his cheekbone and he flinches ever so slightly. it’s new, it stings, adorned by a bit of dried up blood just like the one on his lips. there’s one near his jaw from a while ago, it’s healing. each and every part an ugly reminder of how much trouble he gets in.

“you’re such a pretty face,” you whisper quietly and lean down to kiss him, trying to be so gentle to not hurt him even more. you take your sweet time, tracing your lips over those wounds, new or old, and then speaking with a voice impossibly loving. “even with these,”

“i love it when you call me that,” he takes your hand, kissing your palms. it’s not everyday that he’s spoiled like this.

and you pull your hand back, speaking with frown as if giving him a warning. “i won’t anymore if you get into another fight,”

“guess we’re making truce with heeseung,” he chuckles quietly, shaking his head, pretending to be annoyed. he finally pulls you down next to him and wraps his arms around you, kissing your forehead. “things i do for my girl,”

you let out a muffled laughter while your face is buried in his chest before looking up at him with love pouring out of your eyes. “for me?”

“for you,” you hand rests on his cheeks as he leans down for a kiss, and his hands wrap over them gently, holding them in place. when you kiss him so deeply yet delicately, like it’s a stellar reunion, he pulls away just for a brief second, whispering against your lips. “everything,”

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superswet · 6 months ago

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🌪️ whirlwind.

scott miller x reader Synopsis: the bar has always been a safe haven after a long week of storm-chasing, but when tyler owens decides you’re his lucky charm for the night, you find that scott’s control has its limits. Word Count: 6.4k (pls don't look at me) Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!!!, mentions of near-death experiences, tornadoes (obviously), brief insinuations to cheating, tyler is a pot-stirrer, public sex, dry humping, fingering (f!receiving), degradation, nipple play (f!receiving), orgasm delay, biting?, scott miller has a whore mouth, minor choking, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), lots of dirty talk, no use of y/n A/N: my first time posting fic & writing for scott so pls go easy on me 🥺 sometimes you just have to let a smug little asshole take over ur entire life, am i right? if you enjoyed, pls feel free to reblog or give it a like and as always, my inbox is open if you want to chat!!! 🤍

It’s been a grueling week, one tornado after another hammering Oklahoma into a state of disarray.

You’re still shaken from the last one, the anxiety of being alone in a motel with your thoughts almost unbearable. You’ve tried to avoid being alone since then, afraid that something worse is always on the horizon, and the thought of being isolated in a room while the rest of the team is out doesn’t sit well.

The bar, though, is a familiar sanctuary. A small comfort amidst the chaos. Even though you’re drained and the idea of socializing feels monumental, tradition is tradition. Javi’s sad puppy eyes and the inevitable guilt trip on the drive back to HQ tomorrow is enough to push you out of bed and into the shower.

And, as much as you don’t want to go, it feels wrong when even Scott makes an effort to go.

By the time you step into the dimly lit bar, clinking glasses and the hum of chatter soothe your worries quickly away. Whirlwind may have seen more than its fair share of fights and other throes of debauchery, but it was a frequent, favorite stop.

And it’s already packed. Between the locals and the other storm-chasers crowding the space, you can’t find Storm Par anywhere. A roar of laughter strikes from the pool tables, and you quickly pocket your phone, realizing you’ll have no luck calling or texting when it won’t even be heard over the noise.

Oh, well. You’ll find them soon enough. Making your way to the bar to greet Jack, the burly bartender who’s been running the place for years and has grown more familiar to you the more you frequent, you hear — rather than see — one of the storm-chasers you were hoping to avoid tonight.

Tyler. God damn. Owens.

You weren’t struck by his Southern charm — your days of easy flattery were past you — but he was hard to ignore. Then again, you should’ve known better by now. Tyler always seemed to be at his best when he had a crowd buzzing around him.

“I thought tonight couldn’t get any better, and then you walked in,” he drawls, finding a space alongside you as he sets his empty beer bottle down, his voice smooth. “Can I buy you a drink, darlin’?”

You consider turning him down, not sure if you’re up for his ego tonight, but you also know Tyler. He wasn't swayed easily, especially if he saw a challenge. Besides, a free drink was well, free, and as grating as he could get, you supposed one couldn't hurt. So you nod. “Sure, why not.”

Jack, who’d wordlessly gotten your drink as Tyler approached, sets a bottle of your favorite down in front of you, his brow raising to get your attention. You hesitate before taking it and catch his gaze shift slightly past you.

Before you get a chance to follow, Tyler steals your focus with a grin, the ever-present pain in your ass. You can’t fight your instincts to be polite. “So tell me. What’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”

You meet his gaze, all swirling hues and open attraction. Maybe if you were that kind of girl, his smooth, clichéd lines would work on you. But you weren’t that girl. You preferred sensible. Practical. Safe. It was why you’d joined Storm Par in the first place, rather than one of the many other crews. This tornado wrangler just wasn’t for you.

Unfortunately for Tyler, he always seemed to miss that memo.

“Same as everyone else, I guess.” You laugh half-heartedly. Maybe if the conversation is light enough, you can slip away without it turning into a spectacle. “Just looking to unwind.”

If Tyler notices your lack of enthusiasm, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he makes a show of settling into his spot next to you, grin stretching wide. The beer in his hands is fresh and cold, same as yours, though unlike yourself he’s already taken a few drinks while you start to pick at the label. Javi would've poked fun by now, but your friend is nowhere near. Typical.

Tyler takes another drink, resting his arm on the bar, your eyes drifting to his tanned bicep. His grin stretches when he catches you looking, and you try not to scowl at falling for his display.

He continues with a well-used, “Well, you sure do brighten up the place.”

Thank god. Playing along, you don’t waste a second as your gaze wanders eagerly around the bar. From your new position you spot a cluster of tables on the other side of the room, Storm Par filling out the seats.

Scott sits alone at one of them, as he always did, but his posture is rigid, and even from a distance you can tell his focus is far from the game of darts Javi tries to include him in. Unsurprising. But rather than being distracted by his phone, worrying about the next job the team would have to take, his eyes are locked in on you.

The intensity makes you shiver. A few bottles sit empty next to him, and you only know they’re his by the unmistakable Guinness label adorning the side. A half-empty glass rests in his hand like he’d meant to take a sip before catching sight of Tyler.

Since joining Storm Par, the number of things you knew about Scott could be counted on your fingers. And in that time, you’d never seen him unwind. Not truly, anyway. As frustrating as it could be, you'd come to respect Scott's unwavering demeanor.

Amidst the chaos, no matter how intense it got, Scott was the stoic anchor of the team. There was a reason for his lectures and regulations. He was as dependable as the code he lived by, but most of the team often dismissed it as rigid and unnecessary. You knew it took strength and reliability to remain true to your values.

Much like you were forgoing now, your polite smile tight on your lips.

Beyond Javi, the rest of the team is scattered around Whirlwind, some dancing with reckless abandon on the makeshift dance floor while others clink shots over a job well done with the other storm-chasing crews. Scott is still firmly planted on the barstool, setting his glass down with a white-knuckled grip.

Tyler, of course, pays no attention. He leans in, casually inching closer to you, wrapping up some story of an exaggerated Wrangler exploit. Close enough to brush against you. When you glance down at the contact, Tyler notices where you’ve grown distracted, that easygoing grin slipping as he takes in your view.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tyler says with a sigh, head shaking in disbelief. “Just admit it — I’m a hell of a lot more fun than Storm Cloud over there.”

You disagree, but keep it to yourself. Tyler and his crew were reckless, and, sure, while there was some level of risk that came with what you all did, there was a clear difference between you and them.

It was part of what had drawn you to Scott in the first place. He was meticulous and no-nonsense, quick to call out mistakes whether you were out in the field or back in the office. But even Scott wasn't immune to a lecture or two — something he'd gone to great lengths to keep under lock and key.

And you only knew by accident.

Another sleepless night had driven you out of your room in search of coffee, leading you to a diner where you’d stumbled across him and Riggs in a heated discussion. Your Mama had taught you manners about eavesdropping, but you were frozen in place, listening to Riggs furiously drill into Scott over another fuck up (not his fault) and whether he was serious or not about the work they were doing. Before you could slip away unnoticed, not wanting to be lectured too, Scott’s eyes met yours, giving you a small, subtle shake of his head.

You’d run straight back to your room after, hoping that maybe it'd been a weird nightmare and you’d wake up to business as usual. But after another hour of tossing and turning, Scott’s familiar knock sounded at your door, and when you’d gathered the courage to meet him face to face, he’d looked just as conflicted as you felt. After what you’d heard, the way Scott took responsibility for every mistake and didn't throw anyone under the bus, keeping it between you two was the least you could do.

Something changed after that night. When a particularly nasty tornado touched ground a few weeks later and nearly swept you up in it, nobody questioned Scott’s decision to reassign you to Scarecrow. Nobody questioned why your partner had quit shortly after, either.

Scott still hadn’t asked why you’d been awake that night, just the same as you didn’t ask about Riggs.

You glance over at Scott again now, the memory fresh in your mind. His knuckles are just as white as when you’d found him in the diner, expression still shadowed, like he’s torn between intervening and letting it play out. But even with a crowd between you and the two men, the tension is thick, crackling in the air.

Tyler leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as glances over at Scott. “He’s got that brooding thing down to an art, doesn’t he? Don’t you ever crave a little spontaneity?”

You shift away from Tyler, the weight of Scott’s gaze growing heavy. From the corner of your eye you can just barely make out the hard set to his jaw, no longer working the cinnamon gum he obsessively kept on him. You manage a tight smile, distracted, as Javi’s voice rises briefly above the noise — your attention divided between the brewing storm on the other end of the bar and the eye of the one you were currently stuck in.

“I… I think we all have our reasons for sticking around.” You say, just as Javi finally notices you, his smile dimming as his gaze slides to Tyler.

Shit.

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Tyler’s drawl is playful, almost teasing, and if he sees that you’re not even looking at him anymore, he doesn’t seem to care. “I’m just saying. If you ever want to get away from Clipboard over there...”

This time you do look with a flash of agitation. “If I wanted that, I’d be part of your team, Tyler. Not his.”

“Now, hold on, just hear me out for a second.” Tyler takes another pull from his drink, but when he sets it back down, he’s too close yet again. Fingers brush unwarranted against you, his touch lingering in a way that immediately makes your skin crawl. “How about we make a deal? Let me show you a good time tonight, and I promise you won’t even remember his name by the end of it.”

The suggestion hangs heavy in the air. You're only just barely aware of the way your features shift as background noise fades and you’re left with a high-pitched ringing in your ears, each emotion rolling through you longer to process than the last. By the time disgust sets in, flinching away from his wandering hands, you see past the red just enough to catch his grin widening in amusement.

And you realize, with terrifying clarity, that he’s been toying with you the whole night, just to start something with your team. You try not to tremble, swallowing your rage, and remind yourself that you'll be kicked out if dump your drink on him.

A stool scrapes loudly from the other side of the room. Whatever semblance of peace snaps.

“Uh oh.” Tyler notices Scott’s approach, and has the audacity to flash you a smile. “Looks like we’ve got company. He sure knows how to kill a mood, doesn’t he?”

You don't have a chance to respond, Scott stopping beside you, barely restrained anger coming off him in waves. You instinctively step closer to him, your drink forgotten and unwanted on the bar. His eyes flash with anger as he regards Tyler, that muscle working overtime in his jaw — and you know he's seen everything, from Tyler whispering into your ear to the look of repulse that you'd tried to hide.

“We need to talk.” Scott’s gaze shifts to you. You recognize the silent message he sends, the urgency in his voice as he fights to control his composure for your sake. “Now.”

“Ouch, Scotty. Not even a hello? And here I thought manners came with that fancy degree.” Tyler whistles low, appraising Scott like he’s not seconds away from getting his nose broken. “I was just getting acquainted with your friend over here. Giving her the whole Wrangler pitch. You know how it goes.” His smirk growing, he takes your silence as a cue to continue. “Come to think of it, wasn’t that how Gabby left? Told me she was over all the huffin' and puffin', especially after—”

“Enough.” Scott's interjection is loud and clear, your heart stuttering at the icy tone. When he slides an arm around your waist, the weight unfamiliar, you can’t tell if it’s to keep you from lunging at Tyler, or himself. You glance between Tyler's satisfied grin and the glare Scott sends him, confused. Who was Gabby? “Shut the fuck up for once, Owens. Seriously. Do us all a fucking favor.”

You still swim with questions as Scott pulls you close, no longer waiting for Tyler’s approval or response — not that he needed it in the first place. Lights cast long shadows as he navigates you between tables, the ringing in your ears lessening the further away from Tyler you get. Scott ushers you out the nearest exit, his palm warm against the small of your back.

The back door slams shut with a final click as you spill out into the alley together. It’s as dimly lit as the inside is, a singular dying bulb flickering just a few steps away. The sounds of the bar are muffled here now that your hearing has returned to normal, leaving only the distant hum of traffic and your ragged breathing.

The chilled air immediately hits you as Scott pulls away, and you watch, lost, as he paces angrily while you try to sort your thoughts out.

“What the hell was that? I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight.” Scott’s voice is sharp, cutting through the night like a knife. He turns to face you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken, his scowl reflecting the look he gets when he's about to unleash on someone. “You said you needed space, time to clear your head… So why are you here? With him?”

“I know. Plans change,” you reply, caught off-guard, hoping to sound casual even as you hook your finger nervously under the strap of your dress. You’ve never seen Scott this worked up before, and it’s unsettling.

“Plans change?” Scott scoffs, his voice rising with every word. “That’s your excuse? You say one thing, and then do the complete opposite? What was your plan, then? To drink with Tyler and maybe let him drive you home? Was that the idea?”

You’re taken aback by the sharpness of his words. “It was just a drink, Scott. I needed to get out and clear my head.”

“Just a drink?” Scott’s eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, his frustration barely contained. “Do you really think I’m that naive? Tyler doesn’t just do ‘just a drink.’ He’s always looking for something more. And you—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “He makes a mess of everything he touches. You know what he’s like. Hell, you’re smart enough to see through his bullshit. So why are you letting him get close to you?”

“Scott, it’s not like that,” you protest, your voice wavering slightly under his scrutiny. “I needed to get out. It had nothing to do with him.”

“And you couldn’t find another way to clear your head? Without him? Without the guy who’s known for causing chaos?” His voice is thick with emotion, the carefully controlled mask he usually wears slipping away to reveal the raw frustration and fear beneath. “You think I don’t see what’s happening here? I’ve been through this before, and I’m not going to stand by and watch you make the same mistakes.”

“What are you implying?” You ask, confused and angry.

“I’m saying I think you’re using Tyler as a distraction,” Scott says, his voice sharp, “A way to escape from everything you’ve been dealing with.”

Frustration prickles at his words, and even though you try not to, it’s hard to keep the edge from your voice. “Escape? That’s not— I’m not running away from anything.”

“We’ve had a rough week. I know it’s been hard on you,” Scott says, his tone softening slightly, though he still looks on edge. His jaw ticks again, and your gaze immediately darts to the pack of gum you know he keeps in his right back pocket. “But if you’re letting someone like Tyler pull you away from what really matters, it’ll only make things worse. I’ve seen too many people get hurt by him.”

Your anger flares at his scolding, hating that you found yourself in one storm, only to be led willingly into the next. “And what, Scott? You think you know me so well that you can just decide what’s best for me?”

“No, I’m just—” Scott shakes his head, taking a step toward you, then rethinking it. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” You try to suppress a laugh, but it comes out bitter. “Safe doesn’t really exist in our line of work, and you know that.”

Scott’s eyes flash with a mix of frustration and something else you can’t quite place. He takes a deep breath, struggling to steady himself. “You think I don’t know that? When things go wrong, I need to know that I can count on the people around me to handle their shit.”

You raise an eyebrow, uncertain where this is going. “And what exactly does that have to do with Tyler or me?”

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, his tone almost pleading. “When you’re involved, everything gets complicated. I can’t think straight when you’re involved. I can’t focus. Hell, I can’t even sleep at night.”

Scott runs a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping tightly as if trying to ground himself. “That tornado— When the equipment malfunctioned because Dale failed to follow the calibration protocols I specifically fucking outlined— I was frozen, just paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I knew we couldn’t make it to you in time.”

You still, remembering how quickly Scott had cornered Dale when you got back. You’d thought it was because of the readings and the instructions he’d ignored that had nearly cost you both your lives.

Scott’s breath hitches as he continues. “It would’ve been my fault. My responsibility. My orders. I was convinced I’d lost you. And I thought if I could just keep you safe, try to control the chaos, that it might make things better. But seeing you with Tyler tonight... It’s like I’m back in that moment, feeling helpless, and I—” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “Look, I’m not going through that again. I can’t.”

His voice cracks, and you see the depth of his internal struggle. “I’m just… trying to protect you,” he admits quietly, “but I don’t know if you even see it that way.”

His words weigh heavy, the shock of it ripping right through you. Scott Miller didn't go out of his way to be kind.

You're pulled back through the last few months: the coffee, just the way you liked it, that Scott always had waiting for you after a chase; his lack of scorn when you fell asleep on him in the van the next morning, when exhaustion wins and his silence becomes safety; the lingering, unasked question on his lips every time you were tasked to go out onto the field again and you agreed, over and over, despite the very real fear of the very thing you chased.

For a moment, everything else fades away — Tyler, the bar, the noise.

“Scott.” Your voice breaks through the quiet in a whisper, drawing close to him. Your hands glide gently along the black fabric of his shirt, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. “I’m here,” you say, your voice steady but soft. “I’m with you.”

For a moment, that vulnerability continues to swim in his eyes. And then he steps closer, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. You think, for a split second of panic, that he means to push you away and close himself off the way he usually does; instead, his thumbs rub tenderly at your palms, the action so gentle and unlike him that it makes your breath stall.

Instinctively your gaze meets his, forgetting (as you often did) just how big he actually was. Tall, broad, and deliciously toned; when you thought of Scott, you thought of him behind a desk, not running laps around his neighborhood and clocking in hours at the gym. Your uniforms did an amazing job of hiding his physique, but it’s impossible to ignore now. His black undershirt clings to him like a second skin and reveals the hard, taut muscles of his body, further evidence of the control he wielded so effortlessly.

His eyes search yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping you. You’ve never seen him so open before, and as his hands smooth down your arms to the curve of your waist, there’s a sense of urgency in his touch that he doesn’t vocalize.

Fear. Longing. Desire. His jaw sets again as his gaze drops to your mouth, and you think, for one terrifying moment, that he won’t do it. Would he regain his composure, push you away, then act like nothing had happened the next morning? His brows furrow, as if reading your thoughts. Maybe you’d be reassigned just to avoid the awkwardness of it all. Scott could send you packing with just a phone call.

Your heart pounds, frozen in place, each second lasting an eternity. His fingers flex on your waist, the electrifying touch causing your lips to part and your lashes to flutter. The sight makes his throat bob.

“God damn it,” he groans, his voice guttural.

It’s the only warning you get before his mouth descends onto yours. Though his lips are smooth, there’s nothing gentle about the way Scott kisses you. His mouth moves hungrily against yours, devouring and demanding and all-consuming, like you’re the very air he needs to breathe. You sigh, aching for more, that dull fire inside you growing hotter at the groan that escapes him. As he fists a hand in your hair, he wraps a strong arm around your middle to pull you closer, deepening the kiss.

“Scott…” Bunching his shirt in your hands, you’re helpless when he nips at your bottom lip, pulling desperate, needy sounds from you. As he trails hot open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, finding every spot with ease, his fingers wrap gently around your throat, your pulse racing against his thumb.

“God, I’ve wanted you like this for months,” Scott murmurs against your skin, his voice a low growl that makes your thighs clench. A soft moan escapes as you tilt your head to give him better access, his noise of approval rumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve dreamt of this.”

He presses you into the wall behind you as he ravages your neck, all teeth and tongue and the kind of marks that you’ll have to find excuses for in the morning. A shiver sends you arching up into him, fingers slipping into his hair as he palms your breast, lowering his mouth to suck a greedy mark there. You whine at the friction you’re missing, hips circling the air, desperately hooking your fingers into his belt loops to drag him closer.

“Shhh,” Scott pauses to hitch your leg up, slotting his knee between your thighs. Dark blue eyes drink in the sight of you as he squeezes your ass, a cocky smile spreading on his pink and swollen lips. “I know, sweetheart. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You mewl when his knee brushes against your heat, enough to have you rolling helplessly against him but not enough to satisfy your desires. “So pretty, so desperate.”

“Yes,” You grip him harder for some semblance of a tether, that condescending, degrading voice only adding fuel to the fire. Did he know what you fantasized about late at night? The shower running to muffle your moans while you touched yourself to his deep voice, lecturing you over a simple mistake? Open desire swirls in your eyes, pleading now, every want laid bare for him. “Please, I want it.”

Scott’s low noise of approval sounds in his throat, pressing closer to give you what you need. You’d be half-ashamed at the way you eagerly grind against him if his own arousal wasn’t hard against your hip, straining, large and throbbing with every roll of your hips. The material of your panties do nothing to stop the delicious ache of his worn jeans against your clit, too many pieces of fabric between you, trying to quiet pretty sounds as you bite your lip.

“Look at you,” Scott growls, your dress inching higher as he seizes your hips, helping you find a rhythm. Hooking the lace of your panties under his fingers, he tugs the material up tight enough together to elicit a hiss, a dimple playing at the corner of his mouth as he smirks, “Is this all for me, baby?”

Barely managing a nod, you meet his eyes through thick lashes and whimper at the expression on his face. That intense gaze drinks in every inch of you like you’re a piece of art and the last thing he wants to remember, his usually stormy eyes hazy with desire.

“God damn... You just can’t get enough, can you, baby? When you touch yourself at night, do you think about me? Rubbing that needy little pussy on your pillow ‘cause you just can’t help it?” You press harder into him in response, his answering laugh dark against your ear. “But it’s never enough, is it? You always crave more, something thicker, something stronger.”

You whine against the loss of contact as he drops his knee, the sting of your panties snapping against your skin quickly forgotten when he trails his digits along the swell of your mouth. You open up greedily, the salty taste of his skin on your tongue intoxicating as you wrap your lips around him.

“I bet you look so pretty,” he continues, his voice ragged, “Spread out like a top dollar whore with your cunt in the air, gagging on your fingers and wishing it were me. Wondering how many you need to suck on to fill you up just right. How many do you think, baby? Two? More?”

Scott pulls his fingers out with a pop, nuzzling against you as you try to remember to breathe. “Would you even be able to use that brain of yours, baby? Or would you be so fucking desperate to fill your hole that you’d use however many fit?”

He hikes up your dress while he pushes his hand in your panties, fingers slipping through your soaked folds. Fuck. He slowly circles your clit, stealing the breath from your lungs as you arch up into him. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. It doesn’t feel like this, does it?”

Not even close. Worst of all, you weren’t even sure if Scott knew just how true it was. Other men may have excited you, but nothing compared to this — not you, not the others you took to your bed, not even the fantasy Scott you envisioned. You buck helplessly against him, eager for more, whimpering out some sort of half-reply as you grip his wrist in a pathetic effort to keep him there.

Scott just grins. “What’s wrong, baby? Am I going too slow for you?” When he softens his touch, your nails dig into his skin, leaving little crescent moon marks. Lips desperately search for his, your eyes half-lidded and hazy. “I knew you’d be greedy,” he hums, gripping you roughly by the chin, his thumb swiping over your parted lips. “Letting me play with your pussy like this, where anyone could walk out and see how much of a slut you’re being.”

You bite back a moan as you remember where you are, glancing frantically at the door like it might open any second. Your pulse skyrockets when he resumes teasing, circling your clit then dipping down to press at your entrance. Fingers close around the fabric of his shirt, meaning to push him away and only pulling him closer with another desperate whine. “Scott, please…”

“Fuck.” There’s a dark look that flashes across his face, voice rough and ragged, and you watch, with nothing to shield his gaze, as his control snaps.

Sliding his hand over your mouth, it’s the only warning you get before he sinks a thick digit into your weeping cunt. The growl that escapes him when you automatically clench around it only makes you wetter, paralyzed with lust as he works you into pliancy. You pant, chest heaving, as he finds a steady rhythm that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, every moan muffled against the palm of his hand as you arch into his touch.

You cry out when he adds a second finger, rocking your hips desperately as he angles his hand just right to rub against your clit. “Harder— Please, more—” The words are strangled, spilling out of you mindlessly now, unable to think beyond the way Scott stretches you out. You grab a fistful of his hair as he groans against your neck, dragging teeth and tongue along your skin, freeing your breasts from your dress before covering your mouth again.

“So god damned sexy,” he growls, quick to lap at your hardened nipples, the flat of his tongue spilling another pretty sound from your throat. He curls his digits deeper inside you, the wet schlick of your heat loud in your ears as he sets a brutal pace, switching his attention to your other neglected nipple.

Breath hot against your skin, Scott relishes how you become putty in his hands, holding onto him for support as he strokes that burning fire in you.

“Perfect fucking tits. Perfect fucking pussy. Jesus, sweetheart,” he nips at your skin, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Is this what you like? Being used like my own personal fucktoy? What would the others think if they saw you right now, fucking yourself stupid on me like a bitch in heat?”

He slips his fingers out long enough for you to beg, his smile dark against your skin while you whimper in desperation — and then he’s pushing back into you, stretching your hole with every rough thrust of his fingers. “Hear that, sweetheart? Even your body knows it’s meant to be mine.”

Scott kisses you hungrily as he drops his free hand to your breast, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you scream. His fingers slick harder into you, his cock thick and grinding into your hip while you try to breathe against his storm, your own control slipping as you fist his dark curls in your hands, looking for leverage.

“That’s it,” he growls, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it, baby? You wanna cum for me? Let the whole bar know you’re my toy to play with?”

“Please, please, please—” You can’t think beyond the brutal pace he’s set, not even sure that your voice sounds human as you babble, eyes big and watering. “Wanna cum for you, please, I need it—”

“You need it?” You gasp as the pain on your nipple subsides only for him to pinch the other, something dark and destructive swirling heavy in his blue eyes. You shiver at the expression, the carnal desire written so clearly over his face, every word out of his mouth deep, commanding, leaving no room for debate. “I’ll tell you when you get to cum. This is mine.” Pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit, he watches with glee as you clamp down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming, obeying his command even as your body fights.

Your knees nearly buckle at the growl in his voice. Every thrust of his fingers brings you closer to the edge, the heat overwhelming. How many nights had you spent with your fingers in your cunt, picturing scenario after scenario of him taking you in the van, in the bathroom, on his desk after hours?

“Say it,” Scott insists. “Tell me you’re mine.”

You meet his gaze, the intensity of it nearly sending you over the edge. “I’m yours,” you say, caught between a moan and something stronger, your words choking off.

“Again.” His expression tightens, picking up speed. “Louder.”

“I’m yours!” Your body trembles with the effort to stay upright, writhing against him. The words feel like a vow, your grip on Scott tight as you sob them into him. “My pussy is yours, my body is yours— Just a pathetic, dirty, worthless hole for you to fuck— Fuck, Scott, please—”

Scott growls in response, fisting his hand in your hair as finds the spongey spot inside of you. His digits work you hard, the veins in his arms on display as you bite back a scream, waiting, begging, needing. “Cum,” he grunts, the sound of his fingers driving into you loud and damning, “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum for me.”

You fall over the edge hard and fast, crying out as all the tension from the night finally snaps. It feels like an eternity as he continues fucking you through it, every filthy promise spelled out clearly with his lips at your ear.

By the time you come crashing back down, you’re shaking and empty, blinking back stars as Scott steps back. “Oh my god,” you gasp, fighting to catch your breath, mind still a mess as you try to piece together everything that happened. “That was…”

You watch, mesmerized, as Scott sucks his fingers into his mouth, a groan of approval sounding deep in his throat. And when he squeezes at his bulge straining against his zipper, your core clenches tight at the thought of his weight on top of yours, fucking you into submission again and again until he gets his fill.

“Just the beginning,” Scott promises, stepping toward you to tilt your chin up, his free hand coming down to tighten around your soaked panties and pull. They rip easily in his strong grasp, his grin triumphant as he stuffs them into his back pocket. “You won’t be needing these anymore.”

“Why?” Your body tenses with anticipation, noting the defined dimple in his cheek, the kind of grin he only wore when he was about to be incredibly, infuriatingly smug.

“Because,” he hums, full of condescension, “I didn’t hear a thank you.”

Before you can fix your mistake, Scott silences you with a kiss, his mouth patronizingly gentle as a wicked laugh sounds in the back of his throat. “Don’t worry,” he says, dropping another chaste kiss to your mouth, your nose, the space between your creased brows. “It won’t happen again. I’ll teach you, sweetheart.”

Goosebumps rise on your flesh as Scott adjusts your dress to cover your exposed body, the act so gentle and unbecoming that you freeze enough to let him. The moment only lasts a minute, your eyes meeting as he squeezes the curve of your ass when he’s done, all that vulnerability you had seen locked away again, like he’s guarding himself as reality comes back to life.

A muscle feathers in his jaw as his gaze shifts from you to the back door you’d spilled from. You’ve known Scott long enough by now to know he won’t be the one to say what’s hanging in the air. It would be easier, safer, to walk back in like nothing had happened and return to the motel alone, hitching a ride with anyone other than Scott the next morning.

But if you turn away now, you’ll never see that side of him again: the side that stayed up with you when he could be sleeping, the kind that comforted you without words, the kind that lit your world on fire with every bruising mark he’d left on you. The chance of knowing the man behind the mask.

You don’t miss the way his muscles tense under your touch as you reach for him or the flash of relief that flickers through him. “You think I’m teachable?” You ask, turning big eyes up at him, begging him to see the way you lay yourself bare for him — hoping, praying, that he doesn’t turn you down even still.

“I’m not an easy teacher.” He says, low, still guarded. Still giving you one last out.

You shake your head, a laugh tumbling out. His throat bobs at the sound. “I don’t want easy.” The truth of that hangs heavy in the air, zipping between the two of you as recognition passes through his eyes. “Now are you driving, or am I?”

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he presses his tongue into his cheek and takes a step back. “My van, my rules,” he says, his voice softer now but still firm, and you hear the familiar rumble of the Storm Par van coming to life. His keys jingle in his hand as he adds, “You should know that by now.”

You bite your lip, suppressing a smile, and follow him out of the alleyway.

You did know. And as you settle into the passenger seat, the scent of the van enveloping you — a mix of old leather and Scott’s cologne — anticipation crackles in the air. The night stretches ahead, full of unspoken possibilities.

You couldn’t wait to test how far those rules went... and just how much you both were willing to bend them.

#twisters #twisters x reader #scott twisters #scott twisters x reader #scott (twisters)#scott (twisters) x reader #scott miller #scott miller x reader #scott twisters x you #scott twisters x y/n #scott miller x you #*fic #**#fic: whirlwind.#thank yuuu for reading! 🥺🩷

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lustspren · 25 days ago

Text

Winter Wonderland

Male reader x Karina, Heejin (Lyra), Yooyeon (Nissa) (please don’t bitch about the names again, have some imagination bro idk).

A Red Hot Sloppy Christmas sequel.

word count: 13.3k

tags: elves karina heejin and yooyeon, foursome, oily sex in general, blowjob, anal, assjob, bi, master kink, lot of creampies, rope play, bondage, literally magic cock (i’m deadass serious)

━•✦•━•✦•━

You had never looked forward to Christmas Eve that much. Never. Not even that time in your childhood when you asked for a Darth Maul lightsaber and a WWE championship belt and counted the days on your calendar every morning. Now you did something similar, but the circumstances were completely different: you were expecting a gift too—a damn nice one, by the way—only this time it was a person.

Well, an elf. The distinction was important.

You had completely neglected to tell anyone about your experience, not even those closest to you. Why? To others it would sound like you took too many hallucinogens that night after dinner with your friends; it was completely stupid, and you knew it. No one would believe you.

But it wasn't like you were too eager to tell anyone about anything either. It was like your wonderful little secret. Like Charlie from Stephen King's Fairy Tale and the secret passageway that leads to the world below: no one could know of its existence, as the repercussions could be catastrophic.

Of course, these 'catastrophic consequences' were just mere conjecture and you were perhaps exaggerating a bit. But what if it happened? Would she never come again? Would you be taken to the North Pole to be judged by an elven court for revealing the secret even if no one would have believed you? These were stupid questions, because in the first place, not a single word would ever come out of your mouth. But still, thinking about it kept you up at night for several nights.

Needless to say, your behavior throughout the year had been exemplary. Normally you wouldn't have needed an elf to tell you that you had to do it in order to really do it; you had always been a kind, helpful, honest man without expecting any rewards for it. But now you knew the reward, and for a whole year you were the closest thing to a Buddhist monk you'd ever been in your life.

So yes, she had to come back. You were sure of it. Mostly to explain to you what the hell happened with... well, you had cummed inside her—a lot—and you thought the baby thing was a joke, but she was too cool and serious about it, and frankly you were terrified by the possibility that there was a mini you with pointy ears making toys and hot cocoa in the North Pole. Not by her existence, but by your absence.

Although, would that mini you really have cared? Would she have told him about you? Questions like that would come and go, turn into a tornado of anxiety and nerves and go away again. You just had the overwhelming need to see her again.

But despite anticipating that day so much, you didn't let your life revolve around it and made plans with your friends as normal. The hangout wasn't all that different from last year: same dinner, same gift exchange, and same drinking session that ended with two of your colleagues lying on the floor stinking of alcohol. You of course didn't let yourself end up in that state, not when you had a pending date at home.

This time you didn't arrive at 1 in the morning, but at 2. You ran up the stairs of the building like lightning, and when you got to your floor you literally ran to your apartment with the keys already in hand. The damn lock was your worst enemy at that moment; you couldn't find the right damn key despite using it every damn day, and when you found it, for some reason it took you longer than usual to finally open the door and go in.

There was a quick way to know if she was really there already, and that was by taking off your shoes. But when you did, the disappointment of not finding the floor frozen like the last time made you sigh. She wasn't there, at least not yet. You weren't going to lose hope. She was surely busy with her elf business.

Unwilling to accept disappointment as a mood at the moment, you hung your trench coat on your coat rack and walked slowly into your living room. Now, the floor might not be cold, but your Christmas tree along with every other decoration was lit, and brighter than usual. That could only mean two things: either the power grid was overloaded and you were about to experience a blackout, or she was coming soon.

For the sake of your sanity you would stick with the second possibility.

The dilemma was now deciding what you were going to spend the time you had to wait on. Several options were running through your head, such as preparing something for her arrival. The thing is, she was an elf, not Santa Claus; you didn't know if the same tastes as the bearded old man would apply to her. It was a silly thing to think about, because who didn't like cookies?

Yes, that's what you were going to do: cookies with a glass of strawberry milk. She was sure to love it.

Decided, you turned around to go to the kitchen, but you had barely taken a step when you heard something behind you, something that made you stop dead: a slight tinkling, almost imperceptible, as if little crystals were brushing against each other in the air. At first it was distant, but as the seconds passed the noise took shape until it sounded like a miniature blizzard. As you turned around, your eyes shined at what was emerging next to your Christmas tree: a sparkling swirl of snowflakes that started small, grew larger until it rose upwards, and slowly materialized into a silhouette. A woman.

Well, an elf. And it's not like you'd seen too many in your life, but she was without a doubt the most beautiful one you'd ever seen. There was no competition, you were sure.

Karina had appeared with her back to you, so she spent a few seconds looking for you on that side of the living room. It wasn't until she turned around that your eyes met. Hers lit up with a cute sparkle, but not figuratively, they literally gave off a little spark the moment she recognized you.

"Master!" she squealed, running with little jumps towards you.

"Karina!" you said back, with a smile so big that your cheeks hurt.

She lunged into your arms, causing you both to fall to the floor. You squeezed her in your arms, both of you laughing.

"I missed you so much, master!" Karina said, kicking her feet, her arms wrapped around your head and her face buried in your neck.

At that moment you noticed something that made you feel like a fool for not having done it before, because it was right in front of your nose. Karina was blonde now. A nice pale blonde that suited her perfectly. And not only that. Her hair used to smell like toasted hazelnut, and now you could smell a faint scent of pine and lavender.

"Really?" you asked with warm cheeks and a silly smile. "I... didn't think you cared that much."

Karina moved away from you and settled herself sitting on your abdomen, with a look of not liking what you had said at all.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" She asked with a frown.

"I mean, uhm... I don't know!" you shrugged. "I thought you'd be so busy at the North Pole that well... you'd have forgotten about me."

Karina fell silent, staring at you.

"You're scaring me," you said.

"Master, you're so lucky that I'm a snow elf and can't commit violent acts!" she held up her finger. "There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of you!"

"I'm sorry! Can you understand me? I spent a whole week thinking that you were just a very lucid dream."

"But I’m not!" she snapped. You had to say that she looked too cute when she was angry.

"Yeah, you definitely not," you replied with a giggle, and brought your hands up to her hair to feel it between your fingers. "But I remembered you... brunette."

"Oh," Karina looked down and saw the strands you were grabbing, then her cheeks turned as red as one of the baubles on your Christmas tree. "That? Well..." her lips curved into a cute smile. "That's what happens to elves when..."

The soft tinkling of swirling snowflakes interrupted her. You frowned and sat up with her still on your lap, and both of you turned to your Christmas tree. This time it wasn't just one swirl, but two.

"Uhm... Karina, what's going on?" you asked, bewildered.

"It seems my sisters remembered that they had to come with me here tonight," Karina said, and she got up from your lap to go stand near the already rising swirls, arms akimbo and head cocked to the side.

"Wait what?" You stood up and went to stand behind her. "Sisters? Do you have sisters?"

"Well they're not my sisters as such, but that's how we call each other at the North Pole," she replied, as snowflakes took shape. "And… here they are."

From both whirls appeared two girls, both as beautiful as Karina. One of them, the shorter one, had long dark brown hair, and her dress was similar to Karina's, only the skirt was more flared and the red was brighter. The other, slightly taller than the first but still shorter than Karina, had short black shiny hair, and her dress, with two pompoms on the chest, was fastened to her neck like a choker with a red bow. Her dress was the same color as the shorter girl's, but it was considerably shorter to show off more thighs.

"May I know what happened?" Karina asked, while the two girls looked around. "You were supposed to appear with me!"

"It was her fault!" the short-haired girl immediately said with a frown, stepping forward while pointing at the other. "She got distracted feeding a reindeer!"

The other girl, unconcerned by the black-haired girl's accusations, stood beside her with a big smile on her face as she skipped around a bit.

"You should have seen him! He was so cute!" she said, then tilted her head at you over Karina's shoulder. "Oh, almost as cute as him."

The black-haired girl looked at you as well, and they both walked past Karina to stand in front of you.

"Is he our master, Karina?" the black-haired girl asked, staring at you with her hands behind her back.

"Aha," Karina nodded behind them, her arms crossed. "Master, this is Nissa," she pointed at the black-haired girl. "And she is... Lyra! Master has not ordered you to do that!"

Lyra had her arms around your neck, and her face was very close to yours. She had puppy eyes, bright and cute, and from what you could sense over that dress, she had a tight, slim body.

"No, but I read his mind," Lyra replied with a mischievous little smile. "And I already know how he wants us to serve him."

Shit, right. They could do that.

You were still, still not wanting to lay your hands on them from the slight shock you had.

"We must wait for master's orders anyway, silly!" Nissa scolded, and with a tug she pulled her away from you. "It's rule number one!"

"But rules are a pain!" Lyra complained.

"Silence, both of you!" Karina said, and pushed them away to stand between you. "Well? Do you like your gift, master?"

“I…” Your gaze went to Lyra, who seemed eager to be ordered around, and then to Nissa, who looked much calmer and more cautious. “I don’t understand, why are there three of you here now?”

Karina let out a giggle.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She cocked her head. “Because of how good you were this year!”

Lyra and Nissa nodded.

“Very few were as good a person as you, master,” Nissa said. “Your name was on a list of only two thousand people.”

You raised your eyebrows. Two thousand people. 8.025 billion people in the world, and only two thousand. Boy you were screwed as a society.

“And of course Karina set herself aside exclusively for you!” Lyra added. “Then we were ordered to come with her.”

“And that’s why there are three of us instead of one, master,” Karina finally said. “Triple fun, don’t you think?”

"Triple fun indeed..." you nodded, looking at the three of them carefully. But your gaze ended up landing on Nissa. "Is there a reason why your dress is so short?"

You knew the answer: nice fleshy thighs. But you hoped she would use her powers to make you confirm something. Nissa didn't disappoint you, as she turned around, looked over her shoulder at you, and lifted her dress to confirm your suspicions: her ass was pretty and round, and very spankable.

"For this, master," she said. "Because I know you can have fun with it. Come, touch it please."

You reached out and placed your hand on one of her buttocks. You took a few seconds to feel how soft it was, and when you squeezed it, it felt like a delicious marshmallow.

"Very nice..." you nodded, removed your hand, and then looked at Lyra. "And what about you? Any qualities you'd like to highlight, darling?"

"I'm tight, master," she grabbed your other hand, bringing it under her dress and then between her legs to let your fingers against her slit. Instinctively you rubbed it over her panties. "Very, very tight."

"Fuck..." you muttered and then looked at Karina. "And what about you?"

"Me?" Karina pointed at herself. "I'm yours, master. For a year now. Do you need me to say anything else?"

"Absolutely not, come here," you said, and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her into a kiss.

Karina welcomed your lips with a cute sigh, as if she had been waiting for that kiss as much as you. She clung to your neck with both arms, one hand on your back and the other in strands of your hair. You roamed your hands over every corner of her body: waist, back, arms, thighs and ass, each part slightly fleshier than last year.

"Girls," you said, pulling away from Karina's lips for a moment. "Feel free to read my every thought and act on it as you see fit."

"Yes, master," you heard them both say as you kissed Karina again.

Lyra immediately latched onto the left side of your body and began to fill that side of your neck with kisses, one hand on your abdomen under your sweater and the other on your lower back. Nissa got behind you, and with Lyra's help she pulled your sweater off. She then planted her lips on your back, tracing a path of kisses that covered your shoulder blades, your nape, and the side of your neck that Lyra couldn't reach.

When your kiss with Karina got intense you let yourself go, pulling down the top of her dress to let her tits fall and pulling up her skirt so you could squeeze her buttocks between your fingers. Lyra unbuttoned your pants, and Nissa slipped her hand inside your boxers to grab your cock. The touch of her fingers felt cold at first, but she must have used her powers in some way, because within seconds her hand started to feel warm against your skin; that felt amazing, especially when she cupped your balls and massaged them, now with one hand rubbing your chest.

Lyra lowered her kisses from your neck to your collarbone, and then slowly moved down your chest until she got on her knees and reached your abdomen. She placed wet kisses there, slowly around your navel and near Nissa's wrist as the short-haired girl stroked your cock under your boxers. Your pants were a nuisance when she tried to lower her lips further, so she grabbed them from the curb and, along with your underwear, pulled them down to your ankles.

"Oh... your cock looks delicious, master," you heard Lyra say, and then you felt her lips on your thigh, near your crotch. Nissa was slowly stroking you, and now Karina was also playing with your balls with her tits pressed to your chest.

You pulled away from Karina's lips, looked down at Lyra, and put a hand on her cheek to rub it with your thumb.

"Wanna taste it?" you asked between gasps, as Karina and Nissa were fondling your cock in all sorts of ways.

"I do what my master..."

"No," you interrupted her. "Just answer my question."

Lyra looked into your eyes, and held your gaze as she took your cock between her cold fingers. Karina and Nissa took the cue and knelt down as well, Nissa taking the right side and Karina the middle. It was then that Lyra, without foreplay or warning, took you into her mouth to slowly suck on your cock, between long moans and deep breaths. She pulled out within seconds.

"I'd love to, master," she replied, and along with the other two girls began to fill every corner of your shaft with wet kisses. "Even if it barely fits in my little mouth."

"Then come on," you said between gasps, watching the three girls soak your cock with their lips. "Have fun with it."

"Master," Karina said, as Lyra and Nissa each took one of your balls to lick and suck on. "May I use my powers on you?"

You frowned.

"For what?" you cocked your head.

Karina smiled, bringing a finger to your tip to collect a drop of precum and bring it to her mouth.

"You'll see," she said, and gave your tip a lick. "For now just enjoy."

With that said Karina was next to take you inside her mouth. You immediately had flashbacks of your past encounter with her; it felt just as warm, and she kept her skill with her tongue intact. The pace she kept was also the same: slow, deep, making sure your cock was covered in her saliva. You moaned a few times, and she imitated you, horny just by the fact that she was giving you so much pleasure.

You wanted Nissa to be next, and so your wish was granted. The black-haired girl waited patiently for Karina to take you out of her mouth to take you in hers. Like Karina, Nissa pumped her head slowly and torturously, gently sliding down every inch of your cock as she could thanks to how slippery it was.

Lyra was eager to take her turn as well, and you could tell she was getting very impatient, because she was moaning over and over again, kissing the inches of cock that Nissa didn't have in her mouth with her hands clinging to your thighs. In your head you gave the order for her turn to be given, and Nissa complied immediately.

"Fuck, finally," Lyra said, and took your cock in one hand before sinking her mouth there.

For the first time, you felt like how you liked things wasn't the most important thing, because as soon as she caught you between her lips, Lyra started pumping her head like a demon, fast and disastrous, in complete contrast to the work Karina and Nissa had done so far. You weren't bothered by it, on the contrary it got even more moans out of you. But the other two girls seemed confused, since they knew that those weren't your preferences.

If that wasn't enough, Lyra surprised you by taking you completely inside her mouth. You expected that because of the size ratio between your cock and her mouth she would gag, but that didn't happen. She kept you in her throat while the saliva poured out in thick drops. Seconds later, she kept pumping her head like nothing, until without even noticing you came inside her mouth.

"Oh my fucking...!" You brought your hand up to cover your mouth in order not to curse anymore, as Lyra milked your cock using her lips and fingers at the same time. She swallowed every drop, letting the saliva spill out but not your load, and after a few moans around your shaft, she pulled out to show you her cum-filled mouth.

"M-Master... did you like that?" Karina asked, afraid that Lyra might have been too reckless.

"I..." you gasped, looking down at Lyra as she swallowed your cum. "I loved it."

Karina and Nissa sighed in relief. Lyra just smiled from ear to ear.

"Very well, now look at this," Karina said.

Karina placed her outstretched hand beneath your cock, and with a subtle flourish of her fingers, caused a cold blizzard of tiny, sparkling snowflakes to spread across every inch of your shaft. When the blizzard cleared and she finally took hold of your cock to stroke it, you felt no trace of sensitivity whatsoever.

“What the...” you raised your eyebrows. “That’s… perfect!” you chuckled. “What else did you do?”

“Your cock won’t go limp unless you want it to,” she replied. “And you can give us as many loads as you want, master.”

“Does that mean my cock is magic now?”

That got a giggle from her.

“You could say so.”

“Great,” you smiled. “Shall we go to the bedroom?”

“We’ll go wherever you want, master,” she said.

“Follow me then, please.”

You helped the three of them to their feet and led the way to your room. Inside everything was neat and tidy; you had made sure of that before you left your house that night, thinking exclusively of that moment when you would have to greet a pretty elf—three, in this case. They entered first, and you closed the door behind you before moving around them and going to sit on the bottom edge of the bed.

“Nissa, come here sweetheart,” you said, your hands resting on the mattress.

Nissa walked over to you, standing between your legs and turning her back to you, to lift her skirt and sit right on top of your cock, squeezing it between her buttocks. She ground her hips back and forth, rubbing herself against your shaft with her hands on your knees. You brought your hands to her waist and then slipped one under her dress to rub her lower back.

“You like my ass, don’t you master?” Nissa asked, looking over her shoulder at you with her lips slightly curved.

"Oh I love it..." you replied, watching your cock being kneaded between her ass cheeks. "It's so fucking pretty."

Karina and Lyra, of course, knew exactly what to do even if you weren't going to speak directly to them. They each climbed into bed with you, Lyra on your left and Karina on your right, both kissing either side of your neck and groping every part of your upper body.

You hadn't indulged in laying your hands on Lyra, so you reached out and wrapped an arm around her small frame to press her against you. She immediately sought out your lips, and upon finding them you merged into a messy, tongue-swirling kiss. Her dress screamed for you to unwrap it like a nice Christmas present, which you did with the help of the hand you had on her back. The garment gave way quickly, and now Lyra was completely naked except for her panties and boots.

You did the same with Karina, an even easier task than the first since you had already done half the work a few minutes ago. You squeezed them both against you, Lyra with her tight, toned petite body and Karina with her heavy tits. You kissed Karina first, but only took a few seconds before moving back to Lyra and her restless tongue. Despite this inclination, for both bodies you devoted careful attention with your hands, emphasizing both asses and both already wet pussies.

Nissa was still working on your cock. She had pulled off her panties, and had slobbered on your cock with her hand to give you an assjob that had you panting against Lyra's lips. At one point, her ass felt so good that you couldn't help but grab your cock, have her rub the tip between her folds, and straighten it so that Nissa impaled on every inch.

"Mmmmgh!" Nissa moaned, holding on tightly to your knees with your cock all the way in her warm, wet pussy.

"You like the way it feels, sweetheart?" you asked panting, and gave both of her ass cheeks a squeeze so she began to slowly move up and down.

"I'm the one who should be asking you that, master," she replied, looking straight into your eyes as she moved over every inch of your cock.

"Just answer," you insisted, one hand now on her lower back. "And take off that dress."

Nissa complied, taking a few seconds to pull her dress over her head. Now completely naked—except for her boots, like Karina and Lyra—she bounced ever faster on your cock, filling your room with cute moans.

"I love the way it feels, master," she moaned. "You'll make me cum a lot tonight, won't you?"

"Only if that's what you want," you said, giving her a small spank that made her moan louder. "Is that what you want?"

"Why does it matter what I want, master?" Nissa managed to ask despite being so agitated. "We are your gift this Christmas. What you want is what matters."

"Wrong," you gasped, reaching out again to grope Karina and Lyra's asses. Lyra's was firmer, and Karina's was fleshier. "None of this makes sense to me if I'm the only one enjoying it, so I do care a lot about what you want."

You heard Karina giggle to your right.

"And that's why you earned the three of us here, master," she said, and grabbed your face to make you kiss her again.

Nissa slowed down considerably, but now she moved harder and deeper. Surely that had a lot to do with what you had told her, because every time she slammed her ass into your pelvis she moaned long and hard. She was one of those girls, noted.

After a few seconds of kissing Karina you moved back to Lyra, while you pulled down both pairs of panties enough so you could play with both pussies comfortably. You put a finger in each one, pumping at a steady pace. Lyra moaned against your lips, and Karina clung tighter to you with one hand on your arm and the other on your shoulder.

"I want to eat your pussy," you gasped against Lyra's lips. "Both of you. You know what to do."

Karina and Lyra got down to business, while you just let yourself fall back to lie down and let the magic happen. They both turned their backs to you, separated their knees and moved a little towards you so that you had both asses on either side of your face, which you just had to turn a little. Now, with minimal effort, you could have a whole ass feast, quite literally.

You first turned to the right and focused on Karina's pussy, delighting in that exquisite taste you missed for so long. Not long after, you turned to the other side, now tasting Lyra's tight little pussy. You alternated between each one, unable to give more attention to one than the other. Nissa, on the other hand, had now returned to the usual rhythm, and bounced again and again against your cock until she finally came.

"C-can I keep going master?" You heard her say as you had your mouth buried in Lyra's pussy. "I've never felt this fucking good and… mmmgh!"

"Let me do it for you baby," you said, and sat up to stand with her, turn her around and make her get on her knees at the edge of the bed. She dropped forward immediately, hands on the mattress and ass up for you. "Oh, you can do like... things with each other? You know."

"We're not related," Lyra replied. "So you can safely order her to eat our pussies, master."

"You heard her, sweetie," you told Nissa with a couple of pats to her lower back before taking the reins and fucking her hard from behind.

Lyra and Karina lay on their backs next to each other, pulling their legs up to their torsos to hold them there with their own arms, making it easier for Nissa to do the job as you hammered her pussy like you were doing.

Nissa moved from side to side between moans, making sure to be even with the use of her mouth and tongue and even fingering them. The first to cum was Lyra, who had been horny for quite a while now and it wasn't hard to get her over the edge. Seconds later it was Nissa herself who came, unable to contain the pleasure already building up in her body. It wasn't until half a minute later that Karina came too, thanks to the joint work of Lyra, sucking on her tits, and Nissa, eating her pussy and fingering her.

"Only you're missing, master," Nissa said between gasps, looking over her shoulder at you. Her face was flushed in every corner, and her raven hair was messy. "What are you waiting for to fill my warm elf pussy?"

Your response was a spank that made her squeal. Your climax was pretty close, but the trigger was seeing at that very moment how Lyra and Karina kissed in the hottest, messiest, and mind-blowing way possible. You grabbed onto Nissa's waist, and with one hard thrust you came inside her between moans.

"Mmmgh yes, just like that," Nissa moaned as you filled her pussy, one side of your face resting against her crossed arms. "That feels good huh?"

"Oh it feels amazing, fuck," you gasped, hands on her buttocks. When your climax passed, you pulled out of her and took a step back. "Aight... the first one to get to clean up will be next."

Karina's reaction time was so fast that she didn't even give Lyra a chance to move. Within a couple of seconds she was already at your side to bend down and clean your cum from Nissa's pussy, while Lyra was still on the bed, with a frown and a slight pout that you found adorable.

"Don't be like that, cutie," you told Lyra with a smile. "If you know what I have in mind for you right now, you'll know that it will be worth waiting a little."

Lyra looked at you for a second, and the pout transformed into a small knowing smile. She pulled out a hand, and made a pair of ice-white but sturdy-looking handcuffs appear in her palm. But that wasn't the main attraction. A few seconds later, tied to her body appeared a series of red ropes, intertwined across her entire torso; these formed a star on her chest, with her tits protruding on either side of the lower point while the upper end was around her neck and the side ends under her armpits. The abdomen part formed a diamond with her belly right in the middle. She didn't have any limbs tied at the moment, so she could still move freely. For now.

"You're very naughty, master," Lyra said with a giggle, pulling Nissa towards her to remove her dress and leave her on equal terms with her and Karina. "Luckily for you, I'm very happy being naughty."

Karina grabbed your chin and made you look at her.

"Hey, you'll have time for her," she said, pressing herself against you so you could wrap your arms around her. "I won."

It was the first time she spoke to you like that, directly and without formalities, as if she were your equal and not as if you were a person superior to her. It was strange not to hear her call you master, but it drove you crazy.

"Yeah, keep talking to me like that," you smiled, bringing a hand between her buttocks to rub her folds. "It makes me want to fuck you even harder."

Karina tilted her head and smiled back at you, bringing her hand down to rub your cock.

"Oh yeah?" she said, then bit her bottom lip. "Then fuck me hard. I dare you. Fuck me until I cry."

It felt bad to know that you would have to make Lyra wait a little longer, but the way Karina had said that had struck a chord in you. It wasn't your fault tho, how could you not comply with such a request? It would be a sin not to. Besides, you had the perfect idea.

"Lyra, darling," you said. "Will you please let me have the cuffs?"

"All yours, master," she said now on top of Nissa, making out with the short-haired girl as she handed you the cuffs.

"I thought you would use that for Lyra, master," Karina said as you reached out an arm to take the cuffs.

"I found a better use," you replied, and turned Karina around so that her back was to you. "She'll already have the ropes."

"And what do you think... oh!" Karina trailed off as you made her bend down as far as possible without bending her legs. Then you pulled her arms straight up, held her wrists together, and put the handcuffs on.

"Just like that," you said, and with one hand holding her wrists, you took your cock and slowly took it inside her, in one smooth movement that made you moan out loud.

"Mmmgh fuck!" Karina moaned, tensing her entire body at the inability to move. "Oh yes, do whatever you want with me master. After all I'm just your pretty sex slave. Pound my pussy hard and fill it with your warm load."

God damn. What would the bearded old man think of her if he heard her talk dirty like that? It definitely wasn't your problem, and since it wasn't, you started fucking her like you'd been wanting to do for the past 365 days.

Karina brought out her obedience and durability from that moment on. You fucked her fast, hard, pounding her from behind with such force that the thrusts reverberated through the room, and despite that, she held still for you without complaint, perfectly assuming her role as sex slave.

"Don't you think it would be nice to see those pretty ass cheeks lit up in red, master?" Lyra asked from your left, kneeling at the edge of the bed with Nissa behind her kissing her neck and rubbing her clit.

You held Karina's wrists with your right hand and reached out with your left to reach Lyra's pussy and slide two fingers inside. She moaned and held onto your wrist with one hand, while the other was behind to grab Nissa's nape.

"Very good," you nodded between heavy panting breaths, focused on keeping up the pace. "But you'll be the one to decide if it's enough."

"Count on it," Lyra moaned as you pumped your fingers in and out of her pussy, which you could already get a sense of how tight it was.

Taking advantage of the fact that Karina had no choice but to keep her arms in that position, you let go of her wrists so you could drop the first spank. Of course, one wasn't enough; at least ten more followed, making Karina whimper until Lyra gave you the signal to stop.

"Oh look at that master, they're beautiful," she pointed at Karina's ass cheeks between gasps, as you were still fingering her and Nissa was making quick circles on her clit.

Karina's ass cheeks were indeed beautiful beneath that pigmentation: bright red, the color of Lyra and Nissa's dress. She looked over her shoulder at you, and you smiled as you noticed you were complying with her request as she was crying out in pleasure.

"You like that baby?" you asked, clenching your jaw as you hammered her pussy.

"Yes!" she screamed instantly. "Yes fuck yes! And I'm going to... mmmgh!!"

Karina exploded into spasms, her trembling legs about to give out. You slowed down considerably so she wouldn't be overwhelmed, and that allowed you to focus on Lyra.

"And you?" you asked, adding a third finger into her stiflingly tight pussy. You pumped fast, as much as you could with your non-skilled hand. "Cum, cutie, and look into my eyes."

Lyra held your gaze in a show of unconditional obedience, even though her face looked like it was about to melt with pleasure. Only a few seconds later your and Nissa's work finally paid off, when Lyra dug her nails into your wrist and climaxed with a long moan that made your eardrums vibrate.

As Lyra came, you pulled your fingers out of her and let Nissa take over since you weren't done with Karina yet.

"Nissa, baby, push her away," you said, referring to Lyra.

Nissa nodded and picked up Lyra to carry her to the side of the bed, leaving that space at the edge free for you to make Karina get on. The blonde girl settled herself with her ass raised, knees wide apart and face against the mattress. You removed the handcuffs, only to bring her wrists together behind her back and put them back on. Then, with both hands clinging to the front of her thighs, you continued fucking her with all your might.

Karina whimpered against the mattress, biting the sheet and shedding tears. Her body was still shaking from her recent orgasm, but she was happy with that, with you using her without mercy or care. That's what her eyes told, fixed on you while her face went through every possible phase of pleasure, from twisting to complete paralysis, state in which she stayed until she came for the second time.

The time you gave her to assimilate it was minimal; you didn't want to stop for a second, and you were dying to cum again inside that perfect pussy. The non-stop thrusts made her growl deep in her throat, and also made her bury her face in the sheets to muffle her screams. She came a third time, but this time you joined her.

"Mmmgh fuck!" you growled between slow thrusts, putting your hand on the back of Karina's neck to press her face into the bed and fill every corner of her pussy with cum. "Fuck I missed this so much!"

"Yes master, fill me up!" Karina squealed, writhing in pleasure. "Make me more yours than I already am!"

"Is that even fucking possible?" you gasped, balls deep inside her, waiting for your climax to pass before you pulled out of her pussy. "God, I'm sorry, I'm cursing too much."

Lyra let out an incredulous laugh, looking at you lying on the side of the bed.

"Master, you have ropes tied to my body and your biggest vulgarity is swearing?" she asked with a giggle.

"Nissa, clean Karina up, sweetie," you ordered her, and climbed onto the bed to grab her chin and plant a sweet kiss on her lips. "I promise to reward you later."

"Even if you didn't, I'd be happy to do anything you say, master," she smirked at you, her hand over yours.

"And that's why you deserve to be rewarded," you winked at her. "Come on, go. I have work to do."

Nissa nodded, moving past you and going to take care of Karina. Lyra then settled herself right in the middle of the bed, a mischievous little smile on her face and her legs spread wide. You quickly positioned yourself on top of her, hands flat against the mattress on either side of her shoulders. Your cock rubbed against her pussy underneath, and she raised her hips to seek more contact.

"Let's see how tight you say you are," you said as you looked into her eyes, to grab your cock and take it inside her, little by little.

And fuck, she wasn't wrong. In fact, her own words didn't do justice to how truly tight that piece of tender flesh was. Lyra smiled mid-moan. It was a cocky smile, as she knew she was completely right by the way you were panting.

"You like it huh?" She asked with a giggle as you were just a few inches away from reaching the bottom of her stifling walls. "Isn't that the tightest pussy you've ever been inside of, master?"

"Oh fuck yes," you gasped, and gave one last quick thrust to let the entirety of your length inside her. "You didn't use any powers, did you?"

"Of course not!" she replied with her hands on your shoulders, visibly offended.

"I had to ask," you shrugged, and leaned into her to crash your lips together and begin rocking your hips back and forth.

Lyra put her hands on your neck and moaned against your lips, keeping her legs open for you to fuck her pussy gradually harder. She had something special for sure. It could be that sassy attitude she carried around that you found so fucking sexy, but it could also be that tight, toned body, or that beautiful face that glowed every time she smiled. Whatever it was, that girl's spark felt like something you could easily become addicted to.

The initial plan was to use the ropes and fuck her in different ways and positions, and while the plan wasn't off the table, you were determined to postpone it just a little bit just to take advantage of every second you had with her and enjoy as many experiences as possible. The good thing was that with this girl you were sure there were no regrets, because every second you spent thrusting in and out of her was a second in which your obsession with that tight little body only increased, and this was entirely due to her merit, because her body language was bold, wild, unleashed. As if she completely forgot the role she was supposed to be fulfilling.

"Does my tight pussy feel good, master?" she asked between moans, as you pumped fast and hard. You held her by the thighs, pressing her knees to the sides of her torso.

"Overwhelmingly good," you gasped, looking into her eyes.

At that moment you felt someone behind you, who wrapped both arms around you and caressed your abdomen and chest. When you felt her tits you knew it was Karina, exhaling hot breath near your right ear. Nissa showed herself on the left; she laid on her side next to Lyra, just to watch you fuck her.

"Make her cum, master," she murmured in your ear. "But choke her, she loves it."

"How do you...?"

"Just do it."

You brought your hand to Lyra's neck, gripping it with five fingers to squeeze hard. The reaction was immediate. Lyra let out a moan that didn't come out of her throat, and held onto your wrist with both hands. Her walls tightened around your cock, making you moan as well. As a final trick you added an extra gear and hammered her pussy with all your might. Not even 10 seconds passed when Lyra's back arched and her body shook in a violent orgasm, unbecoming of an elf according to the little information you had about them.

"I told you," Karina said with a giggle, as Lyra came on your cock. "Are you going to tie her up now? I can do it for you if you want."

"You already know how I want her, so do your thing," you nodded, and let go of her neck.

Karina snapped her fingers, and in the blink of an eye Lyra now had more ropes tied to her body. Her arms were bound, crossed behind her back, and she had another pair of ropes tied to her shins from her thighs. Lyra noticed this and looked down at herself, then smirked at you.

"About time," she said.

"Fuck, that's hot," Karina said from behind you. "Do you want me to do something with her, master?"

"Not for now, sweetheart," you replied. "Right now the orders are for Nissa."

She looked at you, awaiting what you were going to say to her.

"Sit on her face," you pointed with your chin. "Right now Lyra will be ours."

Nissa was happy to comply. Within seconds she was on top of Lyra's face, thighs on either side of her head and hands on her small tits. Lyra stuck her tongue out and ate at the short haired girl's pussy, who moaned and slowly ground her hips.

With that hot scenery in front of you, you continued fucking Lyra's pussy, this time with your hands on her petite waist and Karina kissing your neck. Nissa looked into your eyes, fucking herself against Lyra's face and squeezing her tits, and you were going crazy at how good Lyra's pussy felt and how hot she looked tied up.

"Karina, love, touch her," you said, looking at her over your shoulder. "I want to see how many times she can cum before I do."

"Yes darling," she said in your ear, and went to lie down next to Lyra.

You felt your cheeks heat up, and not because of how turned on you were, but because of being called 'darling' by Karina. It was a small reverie that took you a while to snap out of, but now you couldn't get it out of your head, not even when Karina started rubbing Lyra's pussy and sucking on one of her tits until she came.

Lyra moaned against Nissa's folds as her legs and hips shook. You fucked her through her orgasm, and Karina kept touching her as well. You made eye contact with Karina, and one nod was enough for her to snap her fingers again and the way Lyra was tied up changed. Now her legs were together and raised, and her wrists were tied to the sides of her calves.

With your hands on her thighs you kept thrusting like a madman, making each blow reverberate through the room. Nissa came within seconds, her thighs pressed on either side of Lyra's head, but she kept grinding her hips, not a hint of a sign that she would stop. Maybe it was due to the fact that you wanted her to do whatever she wanted to seek her own pleasure. It hadn't been an order as such, she had simply decided herself. Fine by you. The less orders you had to give, the better.

You and Karina made Lyra cum again as the seconds passed. Her moans came out louder, and the vibrations made Nissa cum for the second time in a row, only now there was a little surprise.

"Oh damn!" Nissa moaned with a hand on her mouth as she lowered herself off Lyra's face, realizing she had squirted on it.

"What the..." you raised your eyebrows, now pumping slower against Lyra's pussy.

"I'm sorry Lyra!" Nissa said, looking at the girl's soaked face, worried.

"Are you kidding?" Lyra asked, gasping for air, as if she had run the Tour de France. "That was fucking hot, let me fucking kiss you right now."

"Are you... sure?" Nissa tilted her head.

"I would pull you in for a kiss right now if my hands weren't tied."

Nissa didn't hesitate to lay down beside her, on the opposite side of Karina, to grab her by the neck and kiss her. You started moving again, and now Karina got up to kneel behind you again, running a hand in front of you and bringing it to your balls to hold them while you fucked Lyra in search of another climax.

"Come on baby, fill that tight little pussy," Karina said in your ear, then sucked on your earlobe. "I feel those balls full and ready to cum inside that petite body."

Karina kept calling you all those cute words, and you thought you would explode with love at any moment. Thinking about it distracted you again. Lyra, thankfully, drew your attention back to her by breaking the kiss with Nissa and looking you straight in the eyes.

"Oh fuck fill my pussy already, master!" she squealed. "I need that fucking load inside me!"

Karina snapped her fingers, and a rope appeared around Lyra's head at the level of her mouth to keep her quiet. You hadn't commanded that.

"Hey, watch that mouth!" Karina scolded her. Ironic.

Lyra frowned, frustrated for a moment by the inability to speak. But when you gave Karina the mental command to make the ropes holding Lyra's legs and wrists disappear and only the ropes around her mouth and torso remain, you had her moaning and biting the rope as you pounded into her pussy as if she hadn't already cum three times before.

With Karina holding your balls and exhaling hot breath on the back of your neck, it was easy to reach the downhill slope that would lead you to your climax. You clenched your jaw, leaned forward a little, and now put two hands on Lyra's neck, both squeezing until every sound that came out of her throat was cut off. In the final stretch you got quicker, at a pace you didn't even know you were capable of, until with one last sudden thrust, you came inside the tightest pussy in the North Pole.

You groaned through clenched teeth, pumping slowly to get every drop of cum inside her. Lyra was holding your wrists with both hands, looking up at you with tear-filled eyes. You were sure you were squeezing maybe too hard, but you were unable to loosen your fingers when the sensory stimulation was so overwhelming to you.

"Oh yeah..." Karina moaned into your ear, massaging your balls. "I can feel those balls emptying inside that little pussy... Oh! They're full again," she giggled.

"You three are amazing, you know that?" you asked between gasps, regaining control of your motor skills to release Lyra's neck.

"It's the reward for a wonderful man," Karina said into your ear, and she pulled you into a hug from behind to kiss your cheek. You decided to ignore it so you wouldn't curl up like an armadillo and giggle like a fool.

"Oh right, speaking of rewards..." your gaze went to Nissa, who was pampering Lyra and wiping the tears from her cheeks. "It's your turn for another bit of fun, sweetie."

"How do you want me, master?" she asked, glancing at you as she was focused on Lyra being okay. "I know what's going through your head right now... but I'd like you to say it."

"I want to fuck your ass," you said, finally pulling out of Lyra's pussy after about fifteen uninterrupted minutes. Your cum spilled out in a thick river onto the sheet. "All three of you."

"And...?" Karina asked, already knowing what you wanted as well. You could tell she was excited, as you two had previous experience with it.

"And I want us to get a little... slippery."

"Yay!"

It seemed like Karina had everything premeditated in her head already. She snapped her fingers, and beneath you appeared a red, waterproof plastic blanket that covered the entire bed.

"Oh... this is new to me," Nissa said, looking at the blanket beneath her.

"Not to me," Karina said, and positioned herself to your right to show you what she held in her hand. It was a moderately sized glass jar, molded into the shape of a snowman with a hat. The liquid inside was clear, and it was obvious what it was. "The honors are yours, sweetheart."

You took the glass jar and looked at Nissa and then at Lyra, who already looked composed after the wild mess you had just gotten out of.

"Can you get on your knees?" you said.

"Are you implying that I'm tired and that I'm out of energy, master?" Lyra asked, raising an eyebrow, and with a haughty expression she was the first to kneel up, sitting on her heels. "I feel underestimated."

You chuckled, moving to the bottom edge of the bed to make room for them. Lyra took the center.

"Forgive me for worrying about you, then," you said, as Karina and Nissa took the same position on either side of Lyra.

First in line was Nissa. The short-haired, chubby-cheeked girl stood expectantly, her gaze fixed on the jar of massage oil. You knelt in front of her, cupping her chin so she looked into your eyes, and caressed her jaw with your thumb.

"Have you ever done anything like this?" you asked, really stupidly because she was a Christmas elf, surely they didn't fuck each other oiled up.

"Clearly not, master," she replied. "Is it... sticky?"

"Slippery," you corrected her.

"That's why the plastic blanket?"

You nodded.

"It'll feel good for you, I promise."

"Well, alright," she nodded with a small serene smile. "I trust you, master."

"Should I start then?" you asked, removing the snowman's hat and opening the jar.

"Stop asking so many questions and just do it, master!" Lyra protested from the side. That girl was a different kind of thing indeed.

In order to start with Nissa you positioned yourself behind her and began pouring the oil on her body, making it drip from her shoulders to her back and breasts. After pouring a considerable amount you had her take the jar for you to spread the liquid all over her back, shoulders, and arms. Then you poured a little more, and now you covered her breasts, belly and finally moved on to her thighs. A little over a minute later, Nissa's pale body was well oiled and shiny.

"Oh, it feels... warm," she said, running her palms over her tits. A small moan escaped her lips after rubbing her nipples a few times. "And wow, it feels really good."

"I told you," you smiled, gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked past Lyra. You approached her face to face.

"Oh master," she sighed, looking into your eyes and then to your lips before bringing a hand to your cock and slowly stroking it. "You know there's only one place tighter than my pussy, don't you?"

You picked up the jar of oil and poured long lines up and down her tight body before spreading them out.

"You weren't the most well behaved elf in your class, were you?" You raised an eyebrow, spreading oil across her abdomen before moving down to her crotch and rubbing her slit.

"No, she definitely wasn't," Nissa said, glancing at her. "And now she's acting even worse."

"Of course not!" Lyra protested, frowning at Nissa. "You're just the most boring girl!"

"Whatever you say," Nissa shrugged.

As you finished oiling Lyra's toned body you finally went with Karina. She was waiting for you with a sly smile.

"How does it feel that we're finally going to do this after a whole year, master?" she asked, as you oiled her body.

"Unreal," you admitted, avoiding eye contact so as not to blush but smiling. "But I'm... happy, quite a bit."

"Yeah, I can tell," she giggled. "That's why I'm this happy too."

"You elves can sense emotions?" you asked, running oil down her tummy and thighs.

"Uhm, not exactly," Karina shook her head softly. "But I can sense yours because well... we're bonded."

You paused with your hands on her thigh, then looked up at her.

"Bonded?" you frowned.

Karina's cheeks lit up with a light blush.

"I think I'd better show you when we're done here," she said.

"Can't you just tell me?"

"No, it's something you need to see."

You heard Nissa and Lyra giggle to your left. They knew things, but they didn't seem willing to tell you. You weren't going to push it either; you'd have time later.

"Okay okay," you nodded. "No pressure."

"Thank you honey," Karina smiled, and gave you a peck on the nose. This time you couldn't help but blush.

You worked for the next minute in silence, putting the finishing touches before leaving Karina on equal footing with Nissa and Lyra.

"Very well master," Karina took the jar from your hand and moved to the side. "It's your turn, come on, lie down."

You didn't object and waited for space to be given to you to lie down in the middle of the bed. Immediately the girls knelt at your sides, Karina on your left and Nissa and Lyra on your right. Karina didn't wait for you to give her the green light, she just started pouring the oil all over your body. Having finished, the three girls put their hands on you.

The girls divided up the areas of your body: Karina had your entire upper torso, and Nissa and Lyra from the waist down. Karina and Nissa were gentle, spreading the oil over your chest and arms and down your legs respectively. But Lyra, being the unstoppable force of nature that she was, had gone straight for your cock and was shamelessly groping it, spreading oil all over that area but at the same time jerking you off.

"Lyra..." you gasped, but a nervous giggle escaped you as well. "That's not what you're supposed to be doing."

She turned to look at you, moving her hand faster on your cock. It slid so smooth and felt so good that you moaned.

"Oh no?" she gave you the eyes of an abandoned puppy. "But I feel your cock very, very slippery, master."

"Yes but..." you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "Fuck it come here."

You pulled her by the arm so she landed against your side. Your slick bodies came into contact immediately, her small breasts pressed against one of your pecs. You kissed as Karina and Nissa finished the job, and you brought your hand to Lyra's ass to put a finger directly inside her butthole.

"Oh fuck!" Lyra moaned against your lips, and began to stroke your cock much faster.

"Lyra..." you gasped, trying to get her to stop but at the same time now adding another finger inside her butthole to pump it just as fast. It was a few long seconds before you could muster all your willpower. "Lyra, stop!"

Lyra huffed against your lips, reluctantly releasing your cock.

"Yeah yeah, Nissa will be first," she said, having already read your mind. "Sorry."

"I'm going to kick your ass when we get back..." you heard Nissa say, who looked at Lyra with narrowed eyes.

"Huh?" Lyra frowned and looked at her. Karina giggled.

"Nothing," Nissa looked at you. "May I, master?"

"Go ahead, darling," you nodded.

Nissa turned around and straddled you, her back to you, planting her feet on the mattress in a squat position. She grabbed your cock, brought it between her buttocks and pressed it against her butthole to slowly lower her hips. Your cock was easily engulfed between that pair of pale, pretty asscheeks, and when Nissa rested her ass against your pelvis you both moaned.

"Feels good, master?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at you with her eyebrows raised in pleasure.

"It'll feel better when you use me as your personal trampoline," you replied, and brought your hands up to her buttocks to make circles with your palms there.

"Let me do it?"

"That's what I want you to do."

As soon as she said that Nissa took a few brief seconds to very slowly get into a pace, until she was bouncing hard and fast against your cock. You moaned and gave her a spank that slipped and didn't land as hard as it should have, but it was enough to make her whimper.

You pulled Karina and Lyra to the sides of your body. Now you crashed your lips against Karina's, who purposely rubbed her heavy tits against you. Lyra did something similar, only she was rubbing her pussy against your thigh. With Nissa already jumping on your cock you were able to resume your previous activity, so you put two fingers inside Lyra's ass and did the same with Karina, pumping both wrists quickly.

Nissa bounced on your cock for a while, and she did it without tiring despite going as hard as she was going. She finally came between cute moans, grinding her hips back and forth while her whole body shook with spasms. It was at that moment that you considered it appropriate to give her her well-deserved reward.

You pulled your fingers out of Karina and Lyra's asses and reached out to grab Nissa, pulling her so she was lying on her side on top of you and grabbing her from behind her knees to press them against her torso. All to finally plant your feet on the bed and pump up and down.

Nissa held onto your head with both arms and dedicated herself to filling the room with the most beautiful moans ever heard by man. You didn't know what an angel sounded like being fucked in the ass and mind-melting with pleasure, but it was surely something very, very close to that.

"Come on baby give me another one..." you murmured in her ear. Then you gave her earlobe a light bite and a hard spank to her ass. "Cum again for me."

Nissa tried to speak, but nothing but stutters interrupted by moans came out of her mouth. She kissed you, trying to drown out every whimper until with a violent electric shock, she came just as you had asked. You slowly pumped your hips, being gentle with her so she could enjoy her orgasm to the fullest.

"T-thank you, master," she murmured against your lips, breathing heavily. "For… always considering what I want."

"You don't have to thank me, cutie," you said, and pulled out of her. "It's the basics for someone who isn't a jerk."

"Master...?" you heard Lyra's voice to your right. Turning, you saw her on her hands and knees. "Are you ready for me yet?"

"It shouldn't even be your turn yet, Lyra," you said, and carefully pushed Nissa off you.

"No, but I know you want to give Karina your last load, so I deserve you to make me cum a few more times."

You chuckled and sat up.

"You talk like I'm the one serving you."

"I talk like I know what you want, master," she said, spreading her knees and arching her back further to make her ass look rather more appetizing. "And I know you want to fuck my ass very, very bad."

Karina sighed, tired of Lyra's reckless attitude.

"Forgive me, master," she said. "It's my fault for having such poor disciplinary methods."

"No need," you said. "Let's give the sassy slut what she wants."

Lyra smiled, and you went to kneel behind her. The first thing you did was put a hand on her left ass cheek and used your thumb to finger her ass for a few seconds.

"Let me guess, you want it pretty rough too, don't you?" you asked, and pulled your thumb out of her asshole to soon replace it with the tip of your cock.

"Oh yeah," she nodded with a moan, propped up on her elbows as she watched over her shoulder as you took every inch of your hard, throbbing cock into her tight asshole. "I like it rough, so don't hold back for anything in the world."

"I wasn't planning on doing that," you replied with a hand on her slick lower back, pushing the last few inches inside her. "It's what you deserve for being such an insolent girl."

"Punish me then, master," she moaned as you began to move slowly. "About time you do."

The first spank was quick to fall, and more followed as you increased the pace of your thrusts. Unlike Karina's ass, Lyra's ass took a little longer to turn as red as Rudolph the Reindeer's nose, perhaps due to the layer of oil that reduced contact. But when you had accomplished that task you grabbed a handful of her brown hair and pulled on it as hard as you could, making the smacks of your pelvis against her ass reverberate like applause throughout your room.

Lyra went crazy with screams and grunts, and thank god your nearby neighbors spent Christmas outside the building, because at that hour of the morning you would have gotten into a huge amount of trouble with all the fuss that girl was making.

"You like it like this huh?" you asked through clenched teeth, and gave her a harder tug to make her respond. "Huh?!"

"Mmmgh fuck, yes!!!" she whimpered, desperately searching for something to hold on to since the only thing you had underneath you was the red plastic blanket. "Just like fucking like that, yes!!"

A few thrusts later Lyra came, but you continued, not letting up for a single moment. She screamed and squirmed, but within seconds she dropped the side of her face against the blanket and lay still for you again. Taking advantage of her submissiveness, you made her lay on her stomach flat so you could lean forward, grab her chin to make her look up at you, and spit right in her face as you fucked her now prone bone.

"Oh fuck yeah do that again," she growled, and stuck her tongue out for you. You spat on it after a few seconds, and she moaned louder.

You gripped your hand around her neck, as best you could despite the angle you were at. You weren't squeezing too hard, but it was enough to make Lyra cum again, smothering your cock with her butthole walls and making you moan along with her. It was a miracle that you didn't cum on the spot, in fact, you had no idea how that hadn't happened. A moment ago you would have easily exploded because of how good it felt when Lyra cummed and all of her body seemed to go tighter.

With your lungs about to explode from exhaustion, you looked up, and by pure chance you found the answer to your question. Karina was staring too intently at your crotch, with a finger discreetly raised and her eyes a little brighter than usual. Of course.

When she noticed you were looking at her, she lowered her finger, her eyes returned to their normal color and looked at you with an innocent little smile. You weren't going to comment on it, but it's not like it bothered you. In fact, it was just another thing to be grateful for.

"Satisfied, reckless slut?" you asked Lyra between gasps, kissing her on the forehead.

"Only for now," she replied, and managed a mischievous smile.

You pulled out of Lyra's ass and went to lay down in the center of the bed again, right next to Karina, who didn't hesitate to straddle you, grab your face and crash your lips together, already having you all to herself.

The make out session lasted longer than expected. She was more than happy just kissing and rubbing your slippery chests together, and you were more than happy just groping every corner of that perfect body. But soon that last load in your balls was demanding and screaming to be released, and knowing this, Karina raised her hips and brought your cock to her ass to slowly impale herself on it.

"Oh lord," Karina moaned with her hands on your chest as your cock was already halfway in. "Why the hell didn't we try this a year ago?"

"Because we fell asleep too early," you replied, hands on her waist.

"At least we got some sleep that time," she said, your cock already deep in her ass. "But now dawn is too close."

"Oh, right..."

"Hush," she put a finger on your lips. "Don't think about it and just focus on me, honey."

You looked into her eyes, and for the time number-you didn’t remember-, you blushed again at her expense.

"Y-yeah..." you nodded, and she started moving up and down.

That was without a doubt the most intimate moment you had all night. It was just the two of you, her cupping your face and caressing your cheeks as she kissed you, and you running your hands up and down her back and then hugging her tightly. Karina didn't want to go too much faster than she was going at that moment, and it wasn't necessary either; the rhythm was more than perfect, deep and sensual, so that both of you felt every movement with every fiber of your bodies. You moaned against her lips, and she against yours.

"I'm going to cum, honey..." she moaned against your lips after a few minutes. "Cum with me, will you? Yeah?"

"I'll be happy to, fuck," you panted, your hands squeezing her tits and then bringing them to her buttocks and squeezing them. "You keep going, keep going!"

Karina now did pick up the pace a little, just to speed up a few seconds what was inevitable. Towards the end she bounced on you hard, and raised her body a little so you could see her tits jiggle with each blow. You couldn't help but take one into your mouth, suck on it and hold on to Karina's body with both arms until you both came in a series of deep moans.

"Mmmgh fuck yes darling!" Karina whimpered as you came inside her ass, and she took her breast from your mouth to hug your head.

You buried your face in her neck and filled it with as many kisses as you could, drowning your own moans there that kept coming out until you left your entire load inside her. Your last load of the night. After that the magic would end, and you wouldn't see Karina again for another year. Again.

The two of you took a long time to rest, holding each other close between little cuddles, caresses and kisses.

"Honey... about our bond," she said, lying with her head on your chest. "Do you really want to know?"

Certainly some things were better left unsaid. Ignorance was also a power. But no, that was something you had to know by any means necessary.

"Of course I do," you said. "Why so much mystery about it? Is it a bad thing?"

"It is for some… heartless people," she admitted. "But if you're the man I think you are... it won't be for you."

Your heart skipped a beat. Your mind began to spin and scheme like crazy.

"Okay... show me, please."

Karina smiled and sat up with her hands on your chest.

"I'm afraid you'll have to get dressed first," she said. "And put on something warm too," she then looked to their sides. "Hey! Wake up!"

Nissa and Lyra woke up with a small jump from their slumber. Who knows how long they had fallen asleep, but they both looked equally disoriented.

"Go back home and wait for me at Ysara's Crystal," Karina ordered, then pointed at Lyra. "Ysara's Crystal!" she reiterated, knowing full well that Lyra was the unruly one.

"But don't yell at me!" Lyra whined, and stood up reluctantly.

"He's coming with us, Karina?" Nissa asked, carefully getting out of bed.

"Wait what?" you looked at both of them.

"Yeah," Karina nodded with a pleased little smile. "It's about time he met little Tharion."

"Who?!"

"Shut up and get dressed, silly," Karina patted your chest, and stood up next to Nissa to snap her fingers.

The red blanket, along with the jar of oil and the layer of oil on the three of them, disappeared. Not only that, Karina was now fully dressed and groomed again, as if nothing had happened. Nissa and Lyra also snapped, and now they were fully dressed again as well.

"We'll see you in Glaciora, master," Nissa said, holding Lyra's hand. Then, a swirl of sparkling snowflakes began to envelop them from bottom to top. Seconds later, they disappeared.

"In where?!" you asked again, so confused that you couldn't even move from the bed.

"Honey, get up and get dressed!" Karina urged you. "The sun will soon be setting and my powers won't work here!"

"I'm sorry!" you sat up. "It's just that! I-I! Oh forget it!"

You stood up and hurried to get dressed. You didn't know how to dress warmly, but if you were going where you thought you were going, you'd be perfectly fine with what you were wearing. Ready, you stood next to Karina.

"Look, I'm not going to lie to you," you told her. "I'm terrified."

Karina giggled, took your hand and laced her fingers through yours.

"Why?" she asked. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you."

"It's just..." you started breathing faster, anxious. "That... you know, thing," you pointed to the floor. "Is it going to take me too? How do you s-"

Karina suddenly shut you up with a sweet kiss on the lips. Yes, blushing cheeks again for you.

"Everything will be okay, I promise," she said, looking into your eyes. "Now shut up and let me do my job."

Karina pointed her finger at the ground and made a small gesture. A few seconds later, that whirlwind you saw in the distance before was now forming around your feet, slow, but increasingly faster, dense and bright. The whirlwind rose up your body, enveloping each of your limbs and then covering you completely. In a reflex you closed your eyes, thinking that some snowflake would get inside you. But that didn't happen, in fact, you felt absolutely nothing more than a tingling sensation all over your body.

And then cold. Intense cold. Accompanied by the sound of the polar breeze and... steam engines in the distance?

"We've arrived, darling," Karina said from beside you, squeezing your hand. "You can open your eyes."

You hesitated to do so, but as soon as you did the last thing you felt was regret.

"What the..." you took a few steps forward, stunned by what your eyes were seeing.

You were standing on top of a snowy hill with some pine trees and grass, and the general passage was filled with tall, rugged mountains, packed with snow on the peaks and slopes. But that wasn't what had you stupefied, but what was in the valley just below the hill you were on.

Calling it a city was a bit of an exaggeration, but the picturesque houses of that beautiful town stretched far into the distance, winding between the mountains. It was a bright, charming place, filled mostly with two-story buildings made of oak wood with plenty of windows, in which you could see men, women, and children living together in a common joy that you knew was due to that time of year. Beautiful. That place was beautiful, and it felt warm, like a home.

"Well... this is where I'm from," Karina said, standing next to you.

"But h-how?" you were still stunned as you looked at every corner of the town.

"You don't expect me to explain how our magic works, do you?" she giggled.

"No, you don't have to," you shook your head. "It's just that... my goodness! This is beautiful!"

"Wait till you take a closer look then," she grabbed your hand again. "Come on, Nissa and Lyra are waiting for us."

The two of you walked down the hill patiently, but you didn't go straight to the town, you took a small detour to the left that led you to a wide plain in the center of which there was an obelisk-like structure right in the middle, at least ten meters tall and made of a crystal that reflected pink and purple lights. Ysara’s Crystal, most surely. Near it were the girls. The first thing Lyra did was make fun of your stupid face as you admired everything, and Nissa just smiled excitedly.

"Hey, before I show you everything do you want to...?" Karina asked.

"Yes," you nodded immediately, not knowing how sure you were of your answer. "Yes, please."

Karina nodded, and led you along with Nissa and Lyra, this time to the town.

The streets were quite different from anything you could have imagined a Christmas elf village to look like. Everyone was dressed in red, yes. But there was no one dressed in a flashy outfit, replete with buttons and all kind of colors. There didn't seem to be a hint of ill intentions on anyone's face either; all the people wore bright, genuine smiles, working in all sorts of places outside of carpentry shops, bakeries, toy stores, or any common job you could find in any other city in the world.

You didn't stop to take a closer look, as you had only one destination for now: Karina's house.

The house turned out to be a small cabin near the foot of one of the mountains. It was definitely meant for just one person, but it looked perfectly cozy and spacious. A fireplace was lit inside.

"Are you ready?" Karina asked you, holding your arm in her hands. You were on the first step of the stairs leading to the door.

"I think so..." you nodded quietly.

"Very well. He's a little shy, so don't worry if he seems scared."

You climbed the stairs, each step feeling like an eternity. Karina knocked a few times on the door, and within a few seconds an older, kind-looking lady, dressed in a long red dress with long flared sleeves, opened it. Behind her, in the center of the room, sat a boy playing with a wooden boat.

Him. Tharion. You couldn't see his face, but his hair was... like yours. Same color.

"Karina, dear!" she greeted, welcoming her with a hug. "You're back! And oh, who is this handsome boy?"

"Grandma, he's..." Karina looked at you, then looked over the lady's shoulder at Tharion.

"Oh!" the lady beamed, visibly happy. "Should I... yeah, I'll go buy some chocolate buns, I'll leave you two with little Tharion!"

The lady walked past the two of you, quickly descending the stairs and grabbing her skirt to quicken her pace into the city.

"Is that your... grandma?"

"Not really, but she raised me since I was little."

"I couldn't even introduce myself properly," you sighed.

"You'll do that later, come on in," she gestured inside.

You did so, hands in your jacket pockets. There were many details inside the cabin that you would have loved to pay attention to, as it was an extremely beautiful place. But your gaze was solely fixed on the child, who couldn't have been more than a year old. Just about the time that...

"Tharion!" Karina called him in a small voice, walking past you to go to the child. "I'm home, sweetheart!"

The child dropped the small wooden boat and raised his arms for Karina to carry him. When she did and turned with the child towards you, you were completely petrified.

He looked just like you.

"Honey... this is Tharion," Karina walked slowly towards you with the child in her arms. "Tharion, he's your father."

Tharion. Your son. With Karina.

Oh... no.

———————————

SPREN NOTES: Well this is definitely my longest uninterrupted smut scene to date. I think about 80% of the piece is smut lol. Hope you enjoyed it tho, especially this ending that sparked my desire for parenthood lmao. AND YES, I KNOW IT'S JANUARY 11 ALREADY BUT FOR ME IT'S CHRISTMAS ALL YEAR ROUND.

#aespa smut #loona smut #artms smut #tripleS smut #heejin smut #yooyeon smut #smut fanfic #kpop smut #x male reader smut #male reader smut #male reader insert #fanfic smut

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 months ago

Text

Too Far ~ LMH

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Minho x reader

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

Minho was always the same with you—sharp words, quick jabs, endless teasing, it was just how your relationship had been for as long as you could remember. His playful insults had always been something you could brush off, masking your feelings behind a smile. After all, you were in love with him, and a small part of you liked the attention that would come from him, even if it came in the form of teasing.

But recently, things have changed...a lot. Life was heavier, the weight on your shoulders making it harder to pretend everything was fine and yet you hadn't voiced it to him. You thought maybe he'd sense that you weren't in the mood lately and he would stop but he did.

Minho’s teasing didn’t sting before, but now… now it felt like someone was squeezing a lemon on a wound that was already raw.

Today had been the final straw. You'd finally snapped and had enough of everything.

You sat with the group, the usual chatter filling the room. Minho, as always, was sitting across from you, smirking like he always did when he was about to say something. And he did, some offhanded comment about how you always seemed to be distracted lately, how you weren’t even able to keep up with the conversation anymore.

"Maybe you’re just not smart enough to follow along?" he joked, the words light in his tone but heavy in their impact. It hit deeper than it should have, but being teased for your brain was always something that you'd gotten in school and it made you feel...small. Useless and insignificant to him. That coupled with the stress from everything else, the sleepless nights, the anxiety you hadn’t shared with anyone—not even him—it all bubbled up inside you, and for the first time, you couldn’t laugh it off.

"Maybe you should just stop talking," you snapped, your voice much sharper than you intended. The room fell silent, everyone turning to look at you in surprise. Chan stared at you in shock, he'd always been there telling you to stand your ground against Minho but you'd never do it...until now. Minho blinked, taken aback, scoffing softly as he tried to play everything off as a casual joke.

"Woah, I was just kidding."

"Yeah, well, it’s not funny anymore," you muttered, standing up quickly. You shuffled your stuff around until you gathered it all up, you couldn’t stay there, not with everyone’s eyes on you and Minho’s confused expression making it worse. Without another word, you left the room, your heart pounding as you made your way outside.

You didn’t hear Minho calling your name as you left.

"What the fuck was that about?!" Minho snapped at the others who all looked at him with sheepish looks. It was clear to anyone with a working set of eyes that you weren't in the mood for his games.

"She's had enough, Minho. God, last week I found her crying in her apartment." Felix grumbled and the comment hit him harder than he thought it would have. The idea of you crying because of something he said made his stomach twist and turn.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Hyung...In all due respect, I thought you hated her," Felix mutters a little and it was then that Minho realised just how far he had taken things. That if his own friends couldn't tell where the lines blurred then there was no chance in hell you would have been able to either and he'd fucked up...big time.

"I'll call her...S-She'll answer. She always does." He mutters, dragging his phone out of his pocket and calling you. That was one thing he could always rely on, you always picked up the phone no matter the time, no matter what day you answered him.

Except, this time.

You didn't.

It had been three days since the incident, and you’d been avoiding everyone—especially him. He’d tried to call, text, and even show up at your place, but you didn’t want to talk. You'd sent back all of the presents he'd sent to you and when the florist stated they couldn't take the flowers you donated them to a hosptial and the nursing home down the street.

You couldn't deal with anyone or anything right now. Especially not to him, no one who spoke to him because you knew that they would try and talk to you about it and relax you. Right now, you needed space and time to sort through everything without the added weight of Minho’s teasing hanging over you.

But it didn’t stop the ache in your chest every single time you thought about him. The desperate urge to run back there and forgive him like you always did in the past but this time you wanted to stand your ground. You wanted him to realise that the weight of his words had an effect on you.

But despite everything, you missed him. His stupid jokes, the way he made everyone laugh, the way he made you feel noticed, even if it was in the most frustrating ways. The way he'd always see you even when you thought you were invisible to everyone else around you. But you couldn’t forget the hurt he'd put you through. While he might have made you feel visible he was blind to everything else, he didn’t realize you were struggling and he never saw beyond his teasing to see what you were going through.

Meanwhile, back at the dorms, Minho was losing it. He wasn’t used to this—used to you being upset with him. You were always there, always able to take his jokes, always smiling despite his teasing. But this time… this time he’d messed up. And he had no idea how to fix it. Everything he tried to do failed. The bears were returned to the store, the florist told him you'd donated the flowers and the takeout he sent to you was always given to the homeless. Nothing was working.

The guilt gnawed at him, he found himself unable to sleep or eat. The more time passed, the more he realized how blind to what he was doing to you. He missed you, more than he cared to admit, and with that realization came another...something he hadn’t fully accepted before.

"You're dumb," Felix told him as they sat across from each other in the living room. Minho had just finished confessing all of the conflicting feelings he was feeling,

"How am I dumb?!" he snapped angrily,

"You're in love with her, you dumb bitch." Felix laughed a little and Minho sat there. His mouth open as he tried to deny it but the more he thought about it...the more he realised Felix was right.

He cared about you. More than just as a friend. More than just someone he could joke around with. He was in love with you...head over heels in love and now, he might have lost you because of his own stupidity.

That same night Minho found you at the park, sitting in the same spot you always went to when you needed to clear your head. It was the same park he would go to with you sometimes, you'd taken him one night when he needed to clear his head and he'd followed you blindly.

You didn’t see him at first, too lost in your thoughts about him, but when you did, you immediately stood up, ready to leave.

"Wait, please," Minho’s voice stopped you in your tracks. He'd been tempted to reach his hand out and touch you but he stopped himself, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You turned to look at him, there was something different in his tone—something softer, almost desperate.

You hesitated but sat back down on the bench, your eyes on your hands as he slowly approached, stopping a few feet away, his hands shoved in his pockets like they always were when he was nervous.

"I messed up," he started, his voice quiet. You scoffed a little,

"Fucked up,"

"Yn," He chuckled softly, he hadn't realised just how much he'd missed your voice, even if it was just scolding him for something.

"I know I did. I didn’t realize… I didn’t know you were going through something." You looked away, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively.

"It’s not just about that, Minho. You always tease me, always make me feel… small. And I never said anything because I didn’t want to make it awkward. But I can’t take it anymore. Not right now." The rawness in your voice hit him hard, and his hands twitched at his sides, he wanted to reach out and comfort you but he forced himself to stay still. He’d never realized the extent of his teasing, how much it might have hurt you. He always thought it was just fun, that you were okay with it because you never said anything.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice cracking. He knew that there was no apology in the world that he could give that would have made all of this better but he wasn't going to stop until you forgave him.

"I should’ve seen it. I should’ve been paying more attention, instead of just thinking I could joke around all the time. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you." You stayed silent, your eyes fixed on the ground. Minho took a step closer, his heart pounding, there was no way he could lose, not like this. Not when he finally understood how much you meant to him.

"I miss you," he admitted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He'd been trying to think of what he was going to say to you but the words were lost on him, nothing felt as though it would be good enough to make up for what he'd done.

"I miss being around you, even if all I ever did was make dumb jokes. And… I’ve realized something else." You glanced up at him, and he took a deep breath.

"I’m in love with you...I don’t know when it happened, or how, but I know that’s what this is. And I’m sorry it took me hurting you to figure that out." Your breath hitched, eyes widening in surprise. You'd always dreamt of hearing this from him but this, of all the things you expected him to say, wasn’t one of them.

"I’ll do anything to make it right," Minho continued, his voice soft and sincere. "I don’t want to lose you. Not like this...Please,"

For a long moment, you just stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Part of you wanted to push him away, to hold onto the hurt and make him pay for hurting you. But the other part of you—the part that still loved him—could see how much he was trying. How much he meant what he was saying.

"I don’t know, Minho. I need time… to figure things out." He nodded, stepping back, respecting the boundaries that you were putting in place for him,

"I get it. Take all the time you need. Just… don’t shut me out forever, okay?" You gave him a small nod, and for the first time in days, a bit of the tension between you eased. It wasn’t fixed yet, but it was a good enough start for him.

After the first few weeks of your time in the park with him, you kept your distance, and Minho respected that, he didn't push you into anything you didn't want to do. There was no pressure, no sudden visits, just the space you asked for. But even though he gave you the time to think, Minho didn’t stop trying.

Day after day, there would be small signs that he hadn’t forgotten and was doing his best to grovel for you.

One day there was a bouquet of your favorite flowers at your doorstep. There was no note, but you knew it was from him, of course it was. It wasn’t grand like the last time. It was a simple bouquet and, just simple daisies, the ones you always loved but rarely treated yourself to.

The next day, there was a text from Minho.

I hope the flowers didn’t freak you out. Just wanted to remind you that I’m still here. I'll wait however long it takes.

You didn’t respond, but something about the gesture warmed your heart, even if you weren’t ready to fully forgive him yet.

He started showing up at your favourite café, but always at a distance. You’d walk in, spot him sitting at a table across the room, and feel the familiar flutter in your chest. He never approached you, only offering a nod or a small smile if you caught his eye. But he was there. Every day.

Eventually, you texted him.

You don’t have to do this, you know.

His reply was quick.

I know. But I want to. xx

The distance between you began to shrink day after day, week after week and you found yourself lingering at the café, sitting just a few tables away instead of on opposite sides. Neither of you said much, but the quiet presence was enough for now.

He didn’t push, and that’s what made it easier to start letting the walls down with him, slowly letting him into your life again. One day, you finally agreed to sit with him, both of you sipping your drinks in silence for a while before Minho spoke.

“I miss talking to you,” he admitted softly. “Even if it’s just a dumb joke here and there. I miss… us." You didn’t know how to respond, but something in your chest loosened. The pain was still there, but it was obvious to you that it was in fact, fading.

By the time a month had passed, things had started to feel… normal again between the two of you. Minho was still cautious, still careful with his words, but the tension that had once hung between you had started to dissipate. He’d stopped teasing altogether, focusing instead on real conversations—ones where he actually listened.

One afternoon, as you both sat on a bench in the park, you finally brought it up.

“I think I’m ready to forgive you,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. Minho froze, his gaze snapping to yours, the food he was holding nearly fell to the floor and his eyes widened a little.

“Are you sure?” You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"You gonna try and talk me out of it?" you teased but he quickly shook his head at you, stumbling and stuttering over his words before you touched his hand,

“I’m sure. It wasn’t easy, but I’ve seen how hard you’ve been trying. You didn’t have to, but you did.” He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and he smiled at you.

“I don’t want to mess this up again. I’ll do better, I promise.” For the first time in weeks, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

"I believe you.” You whispered and he squeezed your hand gently, his heart swelling with relief. He knew there was still work to be done, but for now, this was enough.

Months had passed since that quiet afternoon in the park, where you’d finally forgiven Minho. Things had slowly but surely returned to normal between you two—only, this time, it was better. The teasing that once felt like jabs had softened, and Minho had become more mindful, more attentive.

He still had his moments, of course. That mischievous gleam in his eye would never completely go away, and you wouldn’t want it to. But now, when he joked, it came from a place of warmth, of care. He no longer crossed lines, and when he did slip up, he was quick to apologize. It was a kind of growth you hadn’t expected, but one that made your bond even stronger.

Tonight was special. The two of you were walking through the streets, the cool breeze brushing against your skin as the city lights twinkled above. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a quiet evening after a long day, but there was a peace between you two now that hadn’t been there before.

As you walked side by side, Minho’s hand slipped into yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a way that had become second nature. Neither of you said anything for a while, just enjoying the calm of the night and the comfort of each other’s presence.

Eventually, Minho broke the silence, his voice soft but teasing in that familiar way.

“So… you think I’ve been good enough to deserve a reward yet?” You shot him a playful look. A reward? What did he think this was? You couldn't help but giggle a little at him,

“A reward? For what?” He grinned, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“For not being a complete idiot all the time.” You laughed, the sound light and easy, and it felt good. So good. It had been far too long since you'd been like this with him and he was lapping up every single minute of it.

“You’re still an idiot sometimes.” you teased,

“Yeah, but now I’m your idiot,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, making you roll your eyes in amusement.

“I guess that’s true,” you admitted, squeezing his hand, kissing his cheek softly,

“Lucky me.” The banter was light between you both and it was relaxing. You never felt stupid around him anymore, he never made you feel small. As you continued walking, Minho’s gaze softened, his usual teasing expression fading into something more sincere.

“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “I’m really glad you forgave me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you.” You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder as you walked.

“Lucky for us, we'll never have to find out.”

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @s3ungm1nxxl0ve

#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #lee know #lee know imagine #lee know imagines #minho #minho x reader #minho imagines #minho imagine #lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho imagine #lee minho imagines

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novelistwriter · 5 days ago

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The Undead Shop Owner

DP x DC Prompt

The shop, Nightingale Services, has been around since the start of Batman's Vigilante work. The owner, Daniel Altair, is a young man who has stayed looking like he is in his early 20s, despite the many years that had passed, with the appearance of the newest Stabby Robin, Nightingale Services is going ti he requested by the Bat to help with training him, like with all the other times he was requested to do so with the other birdies and sidekicks and the Bat himself.

The Bats and even the Rogues of Gotham had tried to figure out who Daniel Altair was before he came to Gotham. When the Metahumans started appearing, the Gothamites just thought that Daniel Altair was a meta with powers related to aging, none of them questioned his pale skin, sharp fangs, and a Thermos that's always filled with a red liquid.

Nightingale Services is a neutral zone, given that Daniel Altair has stated so many times while escorting beaten goons, rogues, and occasionally a vigilante in the past, the most memorable ones were Daniel tossing the Joker in a dumpster after the Clown tried to do something to the store owner, and Batman being calmly escorted off of Daniel's property with a warning, with Batman having some visible injuries, despite the night just starting that day.

Danny had escaped his home, leaving it for the Infinite Realms/Ghost Zone, and found his way to a new dimension. His parents didn't accept him being a Halfa. He wanted Jazz, Sam, and Tucker to be with him, but they had to stay behind to keep his parents and the GIW from trying anything.

He changed his last name to Altair, the brightest start in the Aquila constellation, and opened a store that would help fulfill his obsession, Nightingale Services. He would basically offer almost any type of service, cleaning, tutoring, business advice, managing group efforts he is paid to do, and training are some of them.

His first year in the new dimension had his biggest event being the Batman coming after him because of falsified evidence the Penguin left that painted Danny as the culprit for smuggling illegal stuff into Gotham. After that, Danny used some of his Ghost King inheritance to buy the Iceberg Lounge from the Penguin. He still has it, but the Penguin has a fraction of the place to earn some money from it when the Penguin stopped his attempts at ruining the new life Danny had after Danny showed the Penguin that he can and will kill the man if it continues, which he rewarded the man with the partial ownership of the Iceberg Lounge.

Then the Joker tried to get him to do things that would go against his obsession the next year. When he rejected the Jokers job offer, he had to beat up the Joker and tossed him into the dumpster next to his store.

Danny learned from Clockwork that his body is still connected to his home dimensions time flow, so he ages a lot slower in his new home, and the fact that he is compared to a vampire by the Hero community doesn't really bother him, he already proved he isn't one of the malevolent ones with the help from a British Magician that is the source of his headaches from his Ghost King paperwork.

Danny had to deal with each new batfamily member when they appeared. He gave closure to both Bruce and Dick with their parents, gave Jason a charm that would protect him from a fatal incident, gave Barbara a concoction that could heal any wound, slightly messed with Tim whenever the kid tried to learn about his past, out pranked Stephanie whenever she tried to prank him, plays a version of tag with Cassandra that involves them both sneaking up on each other, gave Duke some advice for his powers, and now he is tasked with both being a training instructor to Damian and getting the kid to be less high and mighty about himself.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcu #ghost king danny #dp crossover #batman #dp x dc prompt

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gutsby · 1 year ago

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Trigger Tease(r)

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Before his morning briefing, your mob boss husband decides to take a pit stop in the sauna with you.

Warnings: 18+. Oral (f!receiving). Gentle fingerfucking. Praise and degradation. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Bucky talking you through it. Bimbofication if you squint.

Notes: @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast - you inspired me 🪽 I just had to crank out a little teaser for the third installment of Wedded Bliss. I hope y’all like it 💓

Full version here

In between breakfast and the start of your husband’s early briefing, you found yourself situated in much the same way you’d been spending a lot of time these days: pinned up against the wall of a wood-paneled sauna, Bucky’s broad shoulders supporting both of your legs as he buried his face deep between your thighs. You sighed.

“Hold still,” Bucky grunted, voice muffled as he tried to keep your slick, squirming body in place above him.

You yelped and seized a fistful of his hair when he wedged his tongue even further inside you, nudging your clit with his nose almost too teasingly and deliberate.

“I can’t…help it,” you bit back, ignoring the brief glare you earned from your husband as soon as you said it, “Your tongue’s just so— s— James!”

This time, Bucky let out a full-throated groan when you yanked on those poor wet locks of his—‘Gonna make me bald by next Christmas if you keep doin’ that, honey’—and he pried his head from your legs just long enough to knock you flat on the sauna bench close by.

The western red cedar seared hot on your skin, already flushed from the exhaustion wrought by Bucky’s tongue; you hardly had the strength to hold yourself up when he pushed you onto your back and crawled over your body.

“How ‘bout my fingers, doll? Can you take a couple’a those for me?” Bucky crooned above you as he stroked your hair, bathed in pure sunlight pouring in from the windows. His voice was a touch more sympathetic now.

After all, this was your third orgasm of the morning. It really wasn’t fair for him to use that biological weapon of mass destruction he liked to call his tongue when he knew how sensitive your clit would get from just one ‘O’. Even his hands might be too much in your current state.

Bucky was busy peppering your skin with kisses, working his way from the base of your neck to the crown of your head, when you whimpered and tried to fight a smile.

“Finger,” you corrected him, “Just one finger, Barnes.”

You would’ve thought you’d just thrown your wedding ring in his face and told him to eat shit. Just one?

“How’s one finger s’posed to stretch you out for my cock, huh? Practically had you screamin’ when I stuck it in last night,” Bucky wasn’t one to hide his amusement, grinning even bigger when you swatted him on the arm.

“Who said anything about your cock?” You tried to keep cool as Bucky’s fingers trailed right back down to the place you felt yourself throbbing, aching for his touch, “You have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Meeting doesn’t start until I say so, my love,” Bucky reminded you just as his index ghosted over your folds.

In truth, he was willing to play this game any way, and for however long, you wanted it done, so long as he was the one bringing you pleasure. Be that his cock, his finger, or all fucking five on one hand, Bucky just wanted to get you off. It was better sustenance to him than the whole damn meal the two of you had eaten that morning.

Bucky kept it down to one digit and lightly circled your bundle of nerves when he sensed you were ready.

You gripped his forearm and shot a quick look between your legs, still in disbelief as to how he could make you feel this good so soon after you’d cum twice before. You felt his lips drift over to yours and steal a few kisses.

“Always doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praised, moving his finger in circles. When you whined against his mouth, he pressed it even harder, “Such a good girl for daddy.”

“James,” you breathed, clenching your legs together.

“Everything OK?”

“Uh-huh.”

More than OK, in fact. That delectable coil of sweet, euphoric release was already swelling gently in your tummy. Bucky moved his finger even faster.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmured low in your ear.

Bucky loved seeing you try to articulate your feelings—relatively fresh and new to your world, still—while he was giving you pleasure. Adored the way you winced and whined and arched your back into his touch as a whole blustering hailstorm of sensations crashed over you.

He sank his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you, as if trying to extract the words from between your lips. Your response, in consequence, came somewhat stifled.

“Mm— feels so, oh—” Your voice broke off in a moan when Bucky tightened his circles, “—so good, daddy.”

“Wanna show daddy how good and cum for me?”

Bucky knew by the way you were whimpering under his hand that the tendril in your stomach had almost tripled in size. It wouldn’t take much to tip you over the edge.

“My sweet girl,” he said, rubbing your cunt at the same time he was stroking the back of your head, gently, “Feels so nice down there, doesn’t it?”

You rolled your hips against the bench and nodded. Your breaths were short and ragged, panting helplessly into Bucky’s mouth when he adjusted his hand just a little: pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit, with his index moving down to your entrance. Pushing inside you.

“Another,” you choked, not thinking.

Bucky met your desperate gaze and nodded, knowing this was exactly what you needed to make it over the precipice.

Still, he wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t tease just a bit.

“I thought my wife wanted one finger,” he hummed, brow pinching inward.

“No, no.” You could’ve shrieked when he curled the digit, “Want more— Bucky, please, please, I need more.”

Again, your husband appeared to nod in understanding, but his fingers didn’t budge. He worked his thumb a little faster and watched you writhe on the seat beneath him.

“How many, honey? Don’t wanna hurt my baby.” His words were all kindness, it seemed, but his tone laced with shameless condescension—the kind that said, yes, I know you need this, and no, I won’t indulge you just yet. Bucky was the worst when he wanted to prove a point. You could’ve ripped at his clothes and torn them in two if you weren’t both stark naked and shrouded in steam.

You opted to pull at his hair instead.

Bucky winced, but the smirk never left.

“I said how many?” he pressed again.

“Three. Four.” Fuck if you knew.

Your husband raised both eyebrows and hummed, a single finger still plunging in and out of your cunt in quick succession. He teased the tip of another at your entrance and smiled even more when you whined.

“Needy little thing, isn’t she?”

“Bucky—”

“Just wants to fuck daddy’s hand to get herself off, hm?”

Bucky didn’t bother to mask his sweet, degrading tone any longer as he talked down and teased you to no end. It drove him half-insane to see you squirm around, rut your hips, let him say the filthiest fucking words he could conjure up, and just bob your head to whatever he said. His impeccant wife and her insatiable needs—Bucky couldn’t even begin to express how turned on the sheer dichotomy got him. He stared in your eyes, all glossy and soft, and felt his cock stand even more rigid on his belly.

He didn’t give a shit if he’d taunted you enough or not; he just shoved his middle and ring fingers alongside the first and clenched his jaw to start fucking you hard with all three.

Your whole face contorted with pleasure, tinged with the faintest shade of discomfort at the tail end of it. You’d forgotten how big his fingers felt all together.

“Bucky,” you whined, mindlessly clawing at the wrist that was moving back and forth, fast, between your legs, “B-Baby, slow— slow down a little.”

But Bucky was deep in the zone. He knew you wanted it too—sensed that you liked to play it safe when it came to your pleasure and grew a little timid at times it got to feel too much—and he needed to talk you through it.

Rather than turn his head and keep to himself as he got you up to your peak, Bucky pressed his face down to yours and nodded again—this time with a tender sincerity.

“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”

You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Bucky kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his fingers wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,

“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”

“My perfect fucking wife, so good at taking my fingers.”

“Gonna be nice and stretched out for my cock, hm?”

Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Bucky wanted you. Exactly how you needed to be, bucking your hips in time with the cadence of his fingers fucking inside you, and soon, those whimpers were turning to moans as that soft little helix inside you reached its breaking point.

Bucky brushed once or twice more against your sensitive spot, and suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his wrist you feared you might snap it in two, and then getting kissed again, over and over while Bucky drank in your every sound, and the few tears that sprung to your eyes as they always did, like sweet nectar.

You were still moaning, curling your tongue feebly against his own and leaning into him as far as you could, when your husband slipped three fingers up between your mouths and pushed them past your parted lips.

“Suck,” Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he watched you, “C’mere, honey, taste your cunt on my fingers.”

You took him in and sucked your arousal off his fingers just like he asked. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his hand, where your juices had no doubt collected too.

That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Bucky could’ve wanted.

He climbed on top of you and took the base of his cock, rock-hard and weeping tears of precum from the tip, almost drunk from the feeling himself. His mouth hung open as he dragged himself over the seam of your cunt.

“I need to fuck you.”

Taglist (STILL HAVE TO UPDATE THIS I'M DUMB AS SHIT): @vicmc624, @she-could-never, @mcira, @kentokaze, @identity2212, @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx, @stinkerbelle007, @opibarnes, @wilsons-striped-ties, @desigirlxx, @pono-pura-vida, @geminiflanagansblog, @fandomsfeminismandme, @buggy14, @sky-full-0f-fl0wers, @buckysdoll1520, @armystay89, @minimarvelingmarvel, @kunakizen, @ghostiebby06, @blackhawkfanatic, @dameron-grant-spector, @sushiseoks, @deansapplepie, @mrsjoequinn, @lunaroserites, @first-edition, @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi, @excusememrbarnes, @daisychainsoflove, @mostlymarvelgirl, @diannana, @shawnberry, @yujyujj, @urmomsalex, @mrs-bucky-barnes-73, @athenabarnes, @christinabae, @wintrsoldrluvr, @bethbunnyy, @i-heart-smut @dixsond

#THE TITLE WILL MAKE SENSE LATER I PROMISE #it’s ‘tease’ not ‘teaser’ in the full fic that was just my attempt at humor #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #mob bucky barnes #marvel smut #marvel x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mob boss bucky #mob!bucky

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fridgemissionmaster · 2 months ago

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What They Do When They Miss You (Full Cast + OCs)

Lucifer

Like how you can't teach an old dog new tricks, he turns to old habits:

It’s rather easy to not think of you, after all his brothers and Diavolo make sure he’s always kept busy… for the most part.

But then the night rolls-in.

The quiet always unnerved him, that’s why he usually had a record playing. You never knew this though. After you arrived and changed his world, his life, he didn’t want it. Your voice was far more soothing than any melody or hymn for an ancient, weary heart.

Not always, but on occasion you’d stay up and keep him company. He didn’t care if you talked or not, if you vented your frustrations about school, or if you sat beside him only your soft breaths being heard as you organized some papers in the endless stack between you two. If he had a record playing it’d simply be annoying noise. Yet now he finds sleep eludes him without it playing. You left a mark he can only try to patch.

And on exhaustive nights where even that doesn’t help, he pulls out the bottle, roughly ripping the quark out with a loud pop or even breaking the glass’ neck by mistake, the sharp sound making him flinch and the embarrassment that a human could have such control over him even without a command, making his cheeks flush without his lips touching the blue liquid yet.

At the dead of night, he sits in your room after spending an hour at the tomb or in Lilith’s room. He’d never admit to talking to thin air, about his grievances at the last student council meeting, or his breath shuttering at the thought he truly didn’t know what you were doing, if you were safe or not, if you were happy or not… surely you weren’t, otherwise this tightening of his throat would be a silly feeling, not if you weren’t feeling it too.

Mammon

His sticky fingers get the better of him:

Oh, look at that, the gem on that necklace is your favorite color. He needs it.

That shirt, isn’t it made of that material you found really comfy? He needs it.

The vase over there, it looks rather valuable, he could buy you the newest fragrance from Majolish, The Great Mammon just knows you’ll love it. He needs it.

Geez, you’re such a clutz leaving your room in such a state. Sure, it may look clean, but he knows his human, and the place is just a mess. You’d like it if he tides it up a bit for ya. Like he’d take that picture of you and him on the nightstand, can’t let his brothers accidentally break it, and the clothes from your closet, can’t let them get musty and eaten by moths as well as your sheets and quilts, AND, and there’s also the knick-knacks on your shelves they… get dusty, surely they wouldn’t under his care. He’ll also just be taking-

And then there he was, strung up to the ceiling, for no reason! Doesn’t anyone realize he’s your First Man for a reason!? He knows you better than anyone, and he knows he’s the only one who can properly take care of your stuff! He needs to keep them in his room so he can make sure nobody else messes with em’!

All your stuff, safe in his room. His room where he can look and sort through them all day, every item reminding him of something, anything.

Surely they wouldn’t notice one of your pens was missing, right!? Only he’d notice such a detail. And once you get back you won’t either! So it’s fine! A little something you used to pour emotion into writing or work. It’s always with him, to fiddle with when his mind wanders, the clicking sound soothing.

…

Nobody would notice if he took another, right? You’d want him to look after it, and maybe some other things while he’s in your room.

Leviathan

He hides in a world only made for you:

You’d like this anime, too bad you can’t watch it in the human world. Nothing to do for it but record it. There’s also this new game, too bad they announced it after you went back to the human world, but you don’t need to worry, he’s already preordered a copy for you. There’s also the tie-in book, three for you and three for him.

There’s a lot you’d like actually. It feels like whenever you’re busy THAT’S when all the stuff you’d want comes out. Why did you have the leave him.

W-with so much to do!

Now he has to make a list of all the games he’s preordered for you. There’s also the reviews of all the anime he watched you may wanna know about. Then he needs to-

Most of his time is spent behind his monitor, writing, and writing, and writing away. He used to text you these reviews, recommendations, ect. but then his brothers, especially Lucifer made such a stink about it, about he’s ‘spamming’ you, or it was an ‘unreasonable hour’ to be messaging you. So now he’ll just have to be taking up all your time on your return, their fault really.

If you’d listen to him at least. They can’t just steal you away the moment you get back, right?

…

He dose have your favorite game. And newer games, sometimes need updates! S-so, so while those are downloading maybe he could play that.

There’s another list for you, one he made of everything he likes about the game, from the graphics, the music, there are also some reminders of things he thinks even you wouldn’t know, things to show you when you get back.

Satan

Well, if one has a problem, it’s only natural to find a solution:

He’s tried mastering teleportation, still vexes him that the skill still eludes him. Mammon made travel between the realms near impossible via that paths without Diavolo, Barbatos, or Lucifer interfering.

There MUST be a way though, something he’s yet to find.

Then he could see you any time and life would be perfect.

So what to do, what to do.

Legends could be the key perhaps. He spent the first several months of your absence pouring over the tomes in his room, you never know, perhaps now that he was looking for a method to the human world specifically he’d notice something he missed before.

Unfortunately there wasn’t much.

No matter, there were still libraries to scour through.

And if that didn’t… well…

He’ll find something, he will. He may need to turn his thinking around, quit RAD to pour his all into this search. There IS something he just knows it. He just needs to hunt that method down and take it for his own.

He will see you, he will find you, you’ll both bathe under the sunlight on earth, watch as it raises and sets, no brothers to bother the pair of you. Perhaps even surprise you, show up with a thousand flowers right outside your door. Maybe sneak off for a midnight tryst when you can’t sleep.

Sure you could summon him, but how could he surprise you then, or find you when you’re busy, or see you when he wants and needs you? He’ll find a way, don’t you worry, just wait for him, please.

Asmodeus

Mirrors and screens can only do so much, but it’s better than nothing:

Even his sighs are beautiful, but what do they mean when you’re not here to tell him so, to sooth his worries and hold him close.

Thankfully he took all those pictures of you before you left.

He has one for every occasion, ones of you at RAD when classes are being too troublesome. Ones of your smiling face for… everything really, to lift his mood, to give him motivation to just a little better everyday, when he’s board, when he’s sleepy, when he found that cute new top he just knew you’d love and knew would compliment your complexion perfectly, but double checking your references never hurt anybody.

And who is he to keep all these for himself. Of course there were some he deemed for his eyes only, but he just feels so bad for all those poor demons out there who just have nothing.

His days are mostly spent scrolling through his many, Many, MANY albums of you, searching for just the perfect one to post to Devilgram that day. The world can’t be deprived of such beauty, you must understand.

Soon a trend starts, #(insert number) of days MC has been gone. Asmo always has a new post for the tags for every day, he has enough to last for a few centuries. It’s an okay amount but really you need to get back soon so he can take more.

And don’t you worry, there’s not only pictures of you. Of course, with the tag of how many days you’ve been gone he’s taken 1(0000000000000000000) of himself for each day of your departure, he knows you’ll have missed him, so don’t you worry cuttiepatootie, he’s got you covered.

And so here you’ve left him wanting, looking in the mirror waiting for you to just appear in the empty space he leaves beside himself while he get’s himself ready for the next photo.

Beelzebub

Just as with all of his other feelings, it eats him alive:

For Beelzebub even before food, his family is at the forefront of his mind, and that, includes you. Whether it be the nightmares that plage his sleep, or the joy at hearing his brothers just chatting in the next room over, or the thought of you that’s just as haunting as it is comforting.

When he goes shopping whoever is minding him don’t point out how he doesn’t need to get your favorite snacks. There’s too much free time so he filles it by tripling his workout routine, makes it harder for the mind to wander. He knows it isn’t the safest yet on those long jogs he turns up the volume on his D.D.D., getting lost in your favorite songs. Then, when his belly is good and empty, he can focus on that pain, that gnawing more bearable. He hates seeing your spot at the table empty though.

It's… not a powerful feeling, he can go about his day to day, but it’s-

No, YOU’RE always there.

And it’s nice, in it’s own way. His family is always a part of him.

So he buys your favorite foods when it’s his turn to do the grocery shopping so that should you suddenly drop-in again he can already make the best feast for you. With his workout routine being tougher he has all the more reason to ask for your help like being the extra weight on his back for pushups or having you keep count, and these are very serious jobs so his brothers aren’t allowed to interrupt, just you and him for a time. He could also carry you on his jogs and sing along to your tunes. Finally once the day is getting late and it’s time for dinner he can stuff himself beside you, you and his brothers merrily chatting away filling him more than anything else possibly could.

The sweetest of daydreams to think of while waiting for you.

Belphegor

Miss you, why, when he can see you anytime:

Day, night, sleeping, napping, whatever the case may be, if you’re resting, he’ll be there. Life is easier if you just put effort in the things that matter and don’t bother with anything else, and thankfully that’s never any less true here.

Your dreams are easy to find, practically second nature for the demon. For a being such as he, the ethereal world of mixing, melding thoughts and emotions are almost just as real as the waking world.

So it’s just up to you, sleep, lie down on the couch and meet up with him. Want to go for a stroll on the Milky Way, or perhaps dance on the wind, it’s up to you. Why don’t you just stay, it’s not like there’s anything better to do.

Sleeping’s better than going back to the waking world. It’s filled with nothing but pain and death. It’s cozy, and warm, and safe, and kind here. Why must stupid human bodies always wake up.

And so you leave him.

All alone.

…

You’re very cruel you know, making this place so lovely only to rip it away.

No more dreaming till you come back, there’s no point.

Please come back soon. Sure he’s waiting, always waiting for your return, but if you’re not going to be here by his side to make the waking world warm and kind or the dreaming world safe and cozy then what’s the point of either?

Diavolo

There won’t be a world where he’d ever have to know of such pain again:

Funnily enough, he’s doing better than ever. Sure, life is a lot more boring with your absence, but he

Has.

Goal.

It’s perfect, simple really. With the exchange program having been a success, you’ll have to come back for another, and another, there’s no one better than you to tell the progress of the Devildom in accommodating your people, and when the Devildom dose get to that place surely you wouldn’t mind being the official human representative full time. And with you being such a high standing official and honored guest/resident it’s only natural you’d just have to stay at the royal palace with him.

He just needs to make this world.

It will be a lot of work but it will be worth it. Sure his hands may get bruised, cut, bloodied, broken, dirty, or sore but then, once everything is said and done, surely life would be perfect.

Sometimes motivation does wane and as much as he cherishes your calls and texts, it’s still not the same as having you HERE, to feel the warmth of your hands in his. Sometimes when you’re on call he’ll slink away from this desk, sneak down the halls, and slip into that little room. He tenderly pulls out the albums so you don’t hear anything and ask what he’s doing, he adores your day to day, see how humans, you, go about your life. And as you talk he’ll open one of those many albums, each practically filled to bursting with photos of you and those brothers and the shenanigans you lot would drag him or he drag you into.

Had he ever told you, just how much you mean to him? Just how much you’ve changed his life? How you’ve brought much more joy than even the chaos of his home could?

… What better place to tell you such things than a world where you’d never have to leave again, where you could stay without worry, a world where humans and demons lived hand in hand, surely the rest of his people deserved the kind of joy you’ve brought to him.

Barbatos

Indulging in memories, that’s not a form of time travel, right?:

The day to day is always busy for a butler, but especially the one of the (temporary) Demon Lord. His thoughts are always filled with the most important things, you must understand.

He awakes bright and early before any other creature dare. Standing before the mirror, adjusting the buttons, smoothing out the outer coat, floofing the ruffles on his shoulder as you would in a playful mood, tapping the ends of his shoes to the floor testing if they’re snug enough, and giving his warm gloves one last taught pull before making his way to the Little Ds’ rooms to assign them their duties for the day.

He ties on the apron you bought him. He still doesn’t understand why ‘Kiss the cook’ is such a prolific phrase on the garment in the human world, but who is he to comment when you always take the fabric’s advice upon seeing him in it. It had been a few days so surely the Young Master would be craving some bloody lignin berries with his pancakes. Perhaps some Griffin eggs on the side? Diavolo does have more paperwork than usual so the extra treat would give him the boost he needs to not run off as soon.

The garden also must be tended to for the day. There are the blazing spuds you planted. Still not ready yet it seems. Good, it’d be a shame if you weren’t here when they were at their peak. The Hanging Shivering Fuchsias you watered the last day you were here looked especially lovely in the morning dew. Seemed the pickles could use some extra attention though.

There was the evening shopping too, Diavolo requires the freshest ingredients. You joined him for these shopping trips often. It was always a lovely chance to teach you of some of the local delicacies. He finds to odd now to not be looking to his side and asking your thoughts, if anything caught your eye, or if anything reminded you of home.

It’s natural to be lost in thought, there’s a lot too keep track of after all. However much there is though, every night he’s always left with the same one as he takes off those gloves placing them aside. How strange and charming it was that they always felt so warm after you held them for the first time. Something to look forward too for tomorrow as he planned out the day.

Luke

Well, being a Guardian Angel has it’s perks:

Angels are not to interfere in the lives of humans ever, with two exceptions. One! Father gives the order to do so on his behalf. Something like that hadn’t happened in a very long time though… Two! When acting as a Guardian Angel. Of course there were limitations for what he could do, but it was enough to keep you safe!

One can’t work directly, but there was plenty he could do for you! Like scooching your slippers a little closer to your bed so your feet don’t end up hitting the cold floor or when you’ve lost something if he finds it, he’ll move it to a slightly more obvious place you might have over looked.

It hurts worse sometimes being able to do these little things and not being able to do a thing when the bigger, badder stuff happens. His eyes get misty when you burn your hand on the stove, or get fired, or get into some accident or The EArtH SHAKES!? IS FATHER MAD AT YOU? ARE YOU OKAY!? Then it’s even worse when you act like nothing happened at all like with the SHAKING! You just go around putting away everything that got knocked over! Is he doing a bad job!? Are you just that used to danger that you don’t care!? How can you not care!? His heart practically breaks for you.

Maybe this started before, when you joined the exchange program. He knew he should have kept a closer eye on you! But don’t worry he’s here for you!

There might not be much he can do, and he can’t always be watching over you but he can help. Every bad thing will lead to something good, he’ll make sure of it. Like your burnt hand gets you to take that break you needed, or because you were fired you’ll get an even better job, or from the shaking and cleaning you finally can find that keepsake you thought you lost.

He’d never admit it to anyone, let alone himself but something deep in him does hope you return to the Devildom soon, then you can be together again, and he can protect you, for real.

Simeon

… Is it fanfic if you write about your friend?:

Simeone heard the term from Leviathan once. Fanfiction. He’s not quite sure he’d consider himself your fan perse, yet there he was, pages, upon pages, upon pages of writing about you, about what you and he could be doing together if not for this distance, about what you could be doing.

It felt… wrong? in a way, to do this. This wasn’t one of his characters that lived in his head, facts of things he knows you’re doing. He’s just… making stuff up with you in mind.

He writes of you laying in a field, some place as close to the Celestial Realm as the Human World could get to, you at peace, and happy, watching as clouds roll by.

There’s another of you and he sitting on the beach watching the sun set. He doesn’t actually know what a sunset looks like, but there’s something so enchanting about it, something so human, so imperfect about the idea, something so… something he could only hope to see with you.

He wrote about what he’d say to you, his longing, his fears, his silly ideas, confess his selfishness of wanting to keep you all to himself just for a short while and of you returning those feelings in kind.

It almost feels bad, like he’s dictating your actions, it’s not the same as when you worked together on those plays together, and yet despite this odd growing pit in his stomach, he can’t stop. This being something that calls to him when thoughts turn back to you and they’re too much to bare without doing something.

And so when he has the time, he can’t keep himself busy, or when he tries thinking of Henry and you begin to take his place instead, it’d only be natural to write of you instead, right?

Solomon

Laugh:

Things are so much simpler when you’re in the human world where you belong. No demons, angels, or other such creatures to fight for your attention! It’s amazing!

But fate can be cruel and he finds always, ALWAYS at least one of you is in the Devildom.

Loneliness and Solomon were no strangers, the man knew that feeling all too well in fact, however, you made it hurt worse. He was used to it, the rejection, the being kept at arms distance and him doing the same to others, the fear and disgust in their eyes, yet you didn’t. You approached him, drawing him closer and closer, how could you expect to give a thirsty man water in the desert and not have him on your heels desperate for more.

Yet there are those brothers, and royalty, and angels, and even death fighting for you embrace.

It feels the worst when you’re in the same room and no matter what they consuming you whole.

You’re a human in a new and unfamiliar world, so he’ll look after you.

He can’t help but smile seeing anyone less by your side. At him successfully distracting Lucifer with the question of a pact. He loves it when that one innocuous comment from him sends the rest into a fight giving him the chance whisk you away and laugh at their foolishness. He chuckles when he doesn’t need to do a thing at all and their own follies get the better of them and they don’t even realize what they’re missing out on.

If they knew he was mad or upset they’d feed on it, it’d make them just a bit too comfortable, but an unflappable smile, that can be just as unnerving as a wicked scowl. Then when at last it’s just you and him, and he’s home at last, no longer alone, just you get to see his real smile, one of relief.

Thirteen

It’s easier to hope to not see you too soon:

That thought makes things easier, considering who she is, and what her job is. It wouldn’t be the worst thing for you to go, you could always be by her side then, but it wouldn’t be the same as you are now, alive. It’s much more fun and interesting!

And as boring as waiting can be, she much rather wait for your return to the Devildom than you meeting her scythe for the second time. She would go and visit you, but she only really can when working and it might not be the best idea to have you follow her around and others start spreading rumors of you being cursed or something. Then again… well if she were to invite you along it’d be entirely up to you if you went or not. Maybe that is something to consider for a later date.

There’s only so long one can chase around Solomon though, or go shopping, or try meeting new people, or… there’s a lot the reaper has tried in her long, long, long ‘life’ but the time with you is always the most thrilling. Perhaps not the best life for a human but you at least seem to enjoy yourself despite your… she could never land on if you either had incredibly good or bad luck but, it certainly was something to behold.

It’s easy to pass by the days tinkering, and toying, and fiddling away till her cave was filled with new traps for your perusal, but on occasion she’ll pause. Sometimes it’s to wonder what you’d think. Sometimes it’s how you’d react when she unleashes it upon your reunion. Sometimes it’s just how you’d want to paint it. Inevitability the squeaking of metal or the snapping of wood, or stupid Solomon’s voice brings her back and you’re left to rest for a time. Thoughts of you came back though, they always do. That’s at least one thing she’s certain of, aside from your long life and bright flame. She can wait, there’s plenty of time yet still to burn.

Raphael

Pain is a trial, something to be embraced:

Father is cruel as he is kind, strict and wrathful yet understanding and loving.

This… shallow hollowness, he finds the feeling hard to describe, must be something similar to Father. It took root when his siblings first fell and it never truly went away. Sure there were more important things to think on, to work on, to refine, to improve, it was something he tolerated or tried ignoring. There wasn’t much he could do about the feeling anyway so why bother?

It was different after you though. For his siblings, yes they did wrong, but perhaps, one day Father would see their actions weren’t malicious, they just loved so much and didn’t know how to express it when they were scared for one another. You however… There was no real reason why you couldn’t be together now, to share hellos and see you laters. He could text you maybe, but it wouldn’t alleviate this feeling, just make it worse the longer your time apart is.

He finds it inspiring sometimes. Sitting on a couch unable to decide what to sew or embroider next. The decision is always easy now, what would you like?

During training he’s able to put in this energy he never knew he had that just sat dormant within. His swings are faster, more power can be utilized.

You grow in strength everyday, you could easily surpass Solomon at this rate, something that should terrify him, yet he wants to stand toe to toe with you. How things were going, you’d probably save his life. That wouldn’t do, you have enough people relying on you, if someone was going to be saving the other let him save you for a change. You deserve the break.

So he’ll keep this feeling close and this new part of himself, it hasn’t been causing any trouble so far, so he didn’t see much reason to do anything about it.

Mephistopheles

How dare you, he must curse you in kind, it’s too precious of a gift:

You are no human! You are a curse, a plague! You’ve went and made yourself impossible to ever forget. Do you even realize what that means? Do you truly understand just what you’ve given him? Your short life, and you’ve chosen to give part of that to him so freely! And now he’s saddled with the responsibility of keeping that part of you alive within himself because who knows when you’ll just keel over from how fragile you are!

And now you just expect to keep him waiting. He just has to sit here in anticipation for your return so he can give you the same gift! How rude!

Never again will you be able to doze off without wishing he was beside you. He will make sure your drifting thoughts are of him, and him alone.

He’s planning every moment of your return. Demons live much longer than humans so for him to give you the equivalent of what you’ve gifted him, you won’t be having any free time for a very long time. For you, for him it’s practically nothing, but be sure it will be the most amazing moments for your entire existence! Just recompence in his opinion.

Don’t plan anything, he has date plans for you for a few months. He would have the next few years planned out by the time you see one another again, but it can’t be anything less than perfect. There’s also always something new add. His finger is on the pulse of the Devildom, from the new hole in the wall eatery few have tried but raved about, or the Three Legged Crow’s plans on investing in at home entertainment, there’s always something new to add and see if they fit into his plans.

Why did you do this, take the little free time he had and twist his arm into dedicating them to you. He could be relaxing, but no, the rarer times he’s not busy he finds your life in his mind. Surely a curse most fowl that he will give you one of his own.

Aurum

Writing so you don’t miss a moment:

The evenings in the bar are long, but the days even longer. They lay on the sofa half asleep, one thought on their mind. The nights felt shorter when you visited. He also missed the anticipation he held in his chest, locking up the front doors only for you to pop up and walk him back home. He always told you he didn’t like seeing you out so late, yet you’d just say the same back. At least they had work and you… you were just damn too sweet.

He wondered, but couldn’t just ask if you felt the same, it’d turn awkward if you didn’t and well… His feelings probably hurt you enough already.

But, by chance, if you did, surely you’d like to hear from him?

Mammon raised a brow and questioned how Aurum hadn’t gottn your number yet and practically threw his phone into the man’s face to copy your contact info upon seeing the letter and hearing Aurum’s request for him to play mail boy! The demon still immediately pocketed the letter but, this was ridiculous. Even more so when Aurum refused to copy your info!

Was he perhaps a bit too presumptuous about your relationship? Texting would be a lot more casual than a hand written letter, but they knew how creepy it could feel when someone got your contact info without you being the one to give it out. Thankfully he didn’t have to ruminate on it for long, Mammon calling, saying you had a letter for him!

The patrons thankfully always provided with good stories for the man to share, and you always wrote of whatever misadventures and the brothers got up to. Sometimes Mammon would look over their shoulder, interject about the goings on, usually about you ‘exaggerating’ things he did. He also liked not telling stories, just news, or this off looking tomato he found at the market, and you’d tell him of the day to day in the Devildom, about the ingredients you thought he’d want to try experimenting with or how the library got an updated fae law book you could borrow for him if he wanted.

It was nice summoning Mammon every few days for his visit and trading your letter for theirs. It hurt, but you seemed to get that and would talk more about yourself for a time or just about Mammon. He admitted once, it felt kinda like giving each other a piece of home, these letters, and that he hoped you felt the same.

Matoi

You’re always together, there’s no need for that:

They told you before, didn’t they? The world of yokai and the world of humans are one in the same, intrinsically connected, one effects the other just as much as the past effects the future and the future effects the past. Humans and the Lantern People sewed one another, raised one another, and return to the earth hand in hand. The land may be vast, but the land is still earth, you are both earth, thus you are always connected.

But it’s okay if this hasn’t sunk into your soul and bones yet. You know, even if you don’t realize.

Knowledge doesn’t always sway the heart though.

They whittle. Not the tool carving for the village, or toys for the kids.

They hop through the forests till something catches their fancy. Could be a log, perhaps a branch but it has to be something that screams ‘you’. It’s rarer for them to have a plan for what the item will be. They chip away till the wood begins to take shape and they see what it wishes to be. They sing, ancient songs long forgotten but still they are songs of love, a song for you, one you’d never get to hear. Unless you asked but they wouldn’t on their own, their body always heats up from the embarrassment of being so focused on by one person, let alone you.

These projects, if they hadn’t made Mephistopheles’ cane, they would say each and every one was their magnum opus. Each had thoughts of you poured into them. A paperweight, a figure, some pencils, a chair, the amount of these carved gifts Matoi has given you practically every time you meet, you could not keep track of. They’ve made you furniture as if knowing the House of Lamentation needed a new one, not that was too hard of a guess with how destructive the brothers are. They’ve made you a ring that perfectly fit your ring finger. They made so many things, the only thing you could be certain was that they must spend most of their free time making these for you.

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