#missing perfect match hours

[bonesblackheadrotten]

imagine walking down the street when a group of hot people catch your eye. two of them are obviously married. you look at the remaining six. you have no chance at all. you walk pass.

[tonycries]

Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?” ��

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh. 

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?” 

Shit. 

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click! 

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah. 

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl. 

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.

[syrecjh]

He was not the type to scroll.

Katsuki Bakugo don't do social media. Not really. He didn’t have the patience for filters or captions, for curated glimpses of lives polished into perfection. He found the whole thing a little cheesy — pointless even. “Chronically online” was a diagnosis he reserved for the extras in life, the ones who needed validation like they needed air.

And yet here he was.

Scrolling through your Instagram feed at 1:36 AM.

He’d told himself he was just checking. That he’d seen your name pop up somewhere — an old class photo from U.A., maybe a tagged post on Kaminari’s story — and his fingers had moved faster than his brain could stop them.

But “checking” didn’t explain why he had now liked every single post you had ever made.

All of them.

From your first blurry freshman-day selfie to the candid sunset shots to the quiet coffee shop photos with books he swore he’d seen in your hands at school. Posts from years ago, tucked between summer vacations and sleepy cat pics. Your smile in golden light. Your face half-buried in a scarf. A photo of a rainy window with the caption “the sky misses someone too.” He liked that one twice before realizing Instagram wouldn’t let him.

You two had been classmates back at U.A., semi-friends in the way that mattered — partners during rescue drills, shared nods in the hallway, late-night training sessions that ended in breathless laughs. But life scattered people like stars, and time had folded in on itself. He hadn’t seen you in years.

But he hadn’t forgotten.

And now… your posts felt like postcards from a timeline where he hadn’t been so damn proud. Where he’d said something more than “good job” after your final match, something softer than a nod before you left the dorms for good.

He didn’t know what pulled him to your page tonight. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was regret. Maybe it was the way he never quite unlearned the rhythm of your laugh.

Whatever it was, it had led him here — to liking every photo like a man possessed.

And the internet noticed.

Because Katsuki Bakugo — pro hero Dynamight, number two on the charts, grump incarnate — had social media?

It was shocking. No, it was suspicious.

His Instagram? One photo. A blurry explosion in the sky captioned, “work.”

His Twitter? A bio that read: “Don’t talk to me.” He followed six people.

His Facebook? People didn’t even know he had one. But he did. No profile pic, no cover photo, just one “About Me” that said: “Still not talking to you.”

And yet, on every platform, your name appeared.

And fans, being the detective agency they always were, noticed. The way he liked all your posts in under an hour. The way he was now following you. The way his most recent “activity” was just… you.

They started shipping. Hard. #DynaReader (sorry for this one hahaha) #DYANMIGHTGOTACRUSH #GirlUCanChangeHim. Edits appeared overnight, videos of you two from U.A. stitched with slow songs and captions like “childhood friends to lovers?”

You didn’t notice it right away — you weren’t one to check notifications obsessively. But when you opened your phone and saw that Katsuki Bakugo liked your entire feed, your heart stuttered so hard it hurt.

And then — as if that wasn’t enough — a message.

Short. Blunt. Typical Bakugo.

\[k.bakugo] 10:44 PM:

Free tomorrow? There’s a new café near the station. You like coffee, right?

No emojis. No fluff. Just an invitation that felt like thunder behind glass.

You stared at your phone for a long time. Wondering what it meant. Wondering if he meant it.

And across the city, Bakugo was staring at his screen too — regretting how abrupt it sounded, how dumb this all was, how he didn’t even like cafés.

But you did.

And that was enough.

[alinathinkstoomuch]

THOROUGHLY DEALT WITH

18+ MDNI

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader summary: you're angry with aaron for missing an important event, so naturally, he fucks the anger out of you. warnings | an: UMMMM ok so! p in v sex, fingering & oral (f receiving) spanking, drooling, overstimulation, masturbation, light d/s elements, choking & mirrors (can u tell i have my favs) somnophilia mentioned, errthang consensual, age gap, just filth yalllll word count: 4.2k… i wrote this when i was ovulating,, my cycle unfortunately decides what content i post LOL

✧ masterlist

You began with his shirts. The infuriatingly pristine, colour-coded, pattern-matched shirts hanging in your closet. The one you once shared. After tonight, however, you’d have ample room for your winter coats.

It felt harsh, thinking that way. And perhaps, once the adrenaline had ebbed, you’d be curled up among those coats, using the sleeves as tissues. But for now, you let the mindset of pure rage, slight dramatics and fury take the lead.

You knew what you were stepping into, a relationship with a man who might as well have been the crown jewel of the FBI, given how seldom he was home. And you bore it with grace. You never demanded much, only ever asked for compromise when it mattered, when it truly mattered.

So one by one, the shirts sailed over the bannister, landing in a crumpled heap by the entryway. Cotton casualties of yet another one of his spectacularly poor decisions.

He’d missed it.

The one thing you’d asked him not to miss. Not a work dinner, not some meaningless social obligation, but your event. The one you’d planned for months, circled on the calendar, reminded him of over and over. The one he looked you dead in the eye and promised he’d be there for.

What did you get instead? A text.

I’m sorry. Something came up.

Something came up, indeed. The collapse of your relationship, for starters.

Okay, maybe that was the dramatics talking. Maybe you didn’t want it to end, but you wanted—no, needed—him to take you seriously. Because how dare he? How dare he treat your life like the flexible one? As if your moments were optional, but his moments, ones that revolved around blood, caution tape, and sirens were the ones that ever mattered.

And the worst part of it all was the fact that despite all your anger, you still missed him in a way that language couldn’t quite capture. He’d been out on a case for two weeks, and even before that, he was barely home, glued to that damn bureaucratic chair in his office like it deserved more of him than you did.

You’d spent the last eight hours convincing yourself you were done. Done making excuses for him. Done watching your life conform to his schedule, his job, him in general. But your body, the ultimate traitor, didn’t seem done with him at all. Not when your hand drifted between your legs in the shower, picturing the way he used to pin you there, palm flat against your sternum.

Not even now, when you were supposed to be standing your ground. You still found yourself wishing he’d walk through that door and press you against it, like he needed it just as badly as you did.

Maybe that’s all this was. Maybe all you needed was a good fucking.

And you knew that was exactly what you would’ve gotten, had he shown up like he promised. He would’ve started in the car, hand gripping your thigh, maybe even slipping under your dress, getting you all worked up before you’d even made it home.

Then he would’ve railed into you, bent you over the piano in the foyer, lights blazing because of course he’d want the neighbours to see exactly how he rewarded your hard work. But no. You went home alone. Worked up, pissed off, with every intent of emptying your wine stash. Which you did.

And now, you stood at the top of the stairs, breath uneven as your pulse pounded in your throat. And that’s when you heard it.

His car in the driveway.

Shoes. Yes. Shoes seemed poetic. Fitting. The perfect thing to hurl at him with all the grace of a woman scorned and denied an earth-shattering orgasm. Actually, orgasms—plural. Because he wouldn’t have stopped at just one. He would’ve teased the first out of you, held you at the edge until you begged, then made up for it with two more. Rewards for being so damn patient.

You turned on your heel and marched back into the closet, snatching the nearest pair of his smug little leather loafers. Polished, arrogant things, much like the man who owned them.

By the time he stepped through the front door, you were already back at your vantage point, arm cocked, waiting until he turned to launch the first shoe.

It missed his head by a fraction and slammed into the doorframe with a satisfying crack.

He froze, jacket slung over one arm, briefcase in hand, tie loosened and all.

“Hi, honey,” you called out, your voice sweet enough to rot teeth. Then came the second loafer which landed just short of his feet. “Figured I’d give you a hand with the packing,” you added, gesturing to the shirts across the entryway. “Consider it a head start. I assumed your schedule wouldn’t allow for sentimentality.”

He set his briefcase down first, then his jacket, but you didn’t stay to watch the performance. You were already halfway down the hall, disappearing into the closet like a woman possessed, and thoroughly, furiously sexually frustrated.

You grabbed as many of his jackets as your arms could carry, yanking them from the rack with such force—hangers still hooked—you were genuinely surprised the bar hadn’t come crashing down with them.

You heard him then, just shy of the dressing room, steps clear as day. You paused in the hallway and dropped the pile right where it met the doorway, letting the expensive fabric fall into a heap like a makeshift barricade.

Then, back into the closet you went. You reached for what was left, another jacket, two more blazers, and his beloved cashmere sweaters. You snatched them from their hangers like they were the ones that were responsible. And with your arms full again you turned, only to find him standing there. So close that you nearly walked right into him.

“Unless you’re here to carry these to the curb, I suggest you get the hell out of my way, Aaron.”

His eyes dropped briefly to the pile in your arms, then back to your face. “I’m not leaving.”

“Like hell you’re not—”

“Just put my things down and we can talk about this,” he said, with that infuriatingly calm voice that made you want to scream, in two very different ways. “I know I made a mistake.”

You scoffed and stepped closer, close enough to breathe him in. Not the crisp, clean scent you were used to in the mornings when he’d leave for work showered, shaven and put together.  No, this was him at the end of the day. The faint remnants of cologne clinging to his skin, mixed with something more worn-in, and when he exhaled, you caught the faintest trace of bourbon on his breath. Rossi’s doing, no doubt.

Probably his way of trying to calm him down.

You’d heard Dave refer to you as a ‘fiery one’ more than once, always with a little too much amusement in his voice. He’d even joked, right in front of you, that Aaron wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you. Said he’d fold if you ever gave him real attitude. Clearly, Rossi had sensed what kind of storm Aaron was walking into tonight and had handed him a glass like some kind of offering from the gods.

“So not only are you incapable of being unselfish for one night that doesn’t revolve around you, you also seem to have a stunningly poor ability to follow basic instructions,” you snapped, voice rising in a way that was rare. “Are you absolutely certain you went to FBI school, or did you half-ass that the way you half-ass everything else you claim to care about?”

“Are you done?”

“Not even fucking close. But go ahead, interrupt again. You’re great at that, right?” You shoved the pile of clothes into his chest, hard enough to make him take a step back. “Talking over people, brushing them off, missing everything that actually matters until it’s already too late.”

He stood there for a second, holding the clothes before letting them drop to the floor without a word. You let out a bitter laugh at the sight and moved to shoulder past him, but his hand shot out, catching your wrist.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” you hissed, turning back to face him. “Don’t walk away from the man who didn’t show up? Don’t stop screaming because it’s the only thing that gets through that thick, federal skull of yours?”

“Don’t do this. Not when you want me more than you want me to leave.”

“What? Are you—are you actually insane? Delusional? Is this the sleep deprivation talking? Because if so, you can take that smug little fantasy and get the hell out of my house.”

He let go of your wrist, but only to step behind you. His hands moved to your hips, turning your body to position you in front of the island in the centre of the dressing room.

“You want me gone?” he asked.

You cocked your head slightly to the right, catching his reflection in the mirror ahead as he began to undo his tie.

“Say it,” he murmured, eyes meeting yours in the glass. “Say it while I’m inside you.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Not because you lacked words, lord knows you had plenty. And he hadn’t even scraped the surface of the venom still burning at the back of your throat. But your body—traitorous, wretched thing—had already betrayed you.

You were supposed to be holding your ground. Not standing there, spine taut, with him behind you, visibly restraining yourself from folding over the island and handing him all your anger, gift-wrapped in a neat little bow that read please, fuck me senseless.

His fingers brushed your waist, and your lungs locked up. Your throat was so dry your heart had taken to skipping two beats at a time, just to remind you to swallow.

“I missed one night,” he continued, his fingertips now trailing up the length of your forearms. “But I haven’t missed this. Not once.”

You let out a flimsy exhale, turning your head to meet his eyes in the mirror once more. “You think this makes it better?” You knew it did. Maybe this wasn’t the kind of answer that made sense in a normal relationship, but nothing about you and Aaron had ever been normal.

“No,” he answered like the gentleman he was pretending to be, knowing exactly what was coming. “But I think you want it anyway.” And then his hands dropped from your arms completely. “So…what’s it going to be?”

Your hands moved before your mind did, bracing yourself against the island, knuckles whitening as your spine arched over the marble.

He hummed in approval, hands moving to your neck, brushing your hair aside. “That’s what I thought.” You felt him press into you, the weight of him flattening you against the surface as his fingers found the zipper of your jeans.

“This doesn’t change anything,” you lied, needing to put up some kind of fight.

He stilled for half a second, then let out a quiet laugh. “No?” he mocked, dragging the denim down your thighs until it was bunched at your knees. “Then why are you shaking?”

“Because I can’t fucking stand you,” you spat, forehead pressing to the marble, breath fogging against it as you tried—really tried—to remember why you decided his wardrobe would look better scattered across the entryway.

You heard him click his tongue behind you.

“Honey,” he drawled, his voice so pleased and full in all the ways that you were seconds away from being.“You’re so wet your underwear’s turned three shades darker.” And just to prove your point, his thumb dragged slowly over the soaked fabric making your body jolt, forehead nearly smacking the marble with the force of the reaction.

“Step out of the jeans for me,” he murmured, tapping your right thigh first, then your left.

You kicked the material off one leg at a time, your balance swaying as you did, hands tightening around the edge of the island for strength because it was the only thing keeping you upright.

His hand slid up the backs of your legs again, brushing that spot where your ass met your thighs. Then, without a word, his fingers slipped underneath the gauzy material of your panties.

You sucked in a breath as his middle finger dragged through your folds.

“Do you remember what had you so pissed off in the first place?” he questioned, like he genuinely expected you to form a coherent sentence right now.

“Yes,” you groaned into the counter, hips bucking shamelessly against his hand.

“So greedy,” he tutted, pulling his finger back just enough to watch your hips chase it. “Want me out of the house. Throwing my things out like some scene from a bad divorce. But one finger and you’re already a whiny little mess?”

A strangled noise tore from your throat, something between a curse and a moan, as your hands gripped the counter tighter.

“How many times did you touch yourself while I was gone, hm?”

“I—fuck, I don’t—”

“You don’t know?” He pushed a thick finger inside you, making you hiss at the stretch. “That’s not a real answer. Try again.”

You bit down on your lower lip hard enough to sting, eyes fluttering shut as your body betrayed you all over again.

“I asked you a question.”

“Three,” you gasped. “Maybe four.”

He let out a low, satisfied noise. “Maybe? You lost count?”

“D-Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, I don’t need to,” he laughed, adding a second finger. “You’re doing it for me.”

Your right hand curled into a fist, accidentally knocking a bag off the side in the process. “I hate you,” you mewled, the words barely making it past your throat.

“Liar,” he whispered, lips ghosting over your spine as his fingers worked deeper, curling just right. “You don’t hate me. You hate that I know exactly how to make you come before I’ve even unzipped my pants.”

Your mouth was parted against the marble, and when a moan caught in your throat, you managed to drag it back down just barely. Coaxing it into a shaky breath instead, trying to cling to the last scraps of pride you had left. Because he was right. Infuriatingly right.

“Well?” you hissed, breath catching. “Are you going to unzip your pants, or are we still pretending your fingers are doing anything I didn’t handle on my own while you were gone?”

Your heard an unbothered chuckle from him first and then felt the sharp sting of his palm landing against your ass, second. The impact was muffled by the fabric of your underwear, but the message landed all the same.

“That’s sweet, dear. But I don’t remember hearing you make these kinds of noises the last time you decided to take care of yourself…right next to me.”

You jaw clenched.

It had only happened once. You thought he was asleep���clearly, he wasn’t. He’d gotten in late from work, and you hadn’t wanted to bother him, so you took matters into your own hands… literally.

In hindsight, it explained the sudden burst of sex drive the next morning. You’d woken up to his mouth between your legs like he was trying to make a point that he could always make you come harder.

His free hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head to the side as he angled your face toward the mirror. “This isn’t how you sounded then, is it?” he taunted, fingers slipping out of you just to circle your swollen clit instead.

You gasped, body jerking at the sudden change in pressure.

“And just for that—” his hand stilled, the contact vanishing altogether, “—you can wait.”

You took the chance to catch your breath, heart pounding as you clenched around nothing, blinking back the tears gathering in your waterline like they’d scheduled a meeting.  

Glancing at the mirror you saw his hands work his belt free and you were tempted. So incredibly tempted to prove him wrong, to reach down between your legs and finish what he so cruelly started. Just a few strokes, that’s all it would take. But before you could even move—

“Don’t.”

You stilled. Every muscle locked.

“Put one hand between your legs,” he continued, the sound of his belt sliding from the last loop sharp in your ears, “and I’ll bind both behind your back. You won’t come tonight. Or tomorrow.”

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, barely managing to pull air in. The fabric of your top clung to your skin, sticky with sweat and a rage that seemed to be dissipating by the second. All that remained in its place was a desperate, aching hunger for him.

You pressed your thighs together without thinking, chasing some kind of friction, some kind of relief, but Aaron’s hands were already on your hips. His fingers slipped beneath the elastic of your underwear, tugging them down your legs.

You knew it was his favourite part, especially when he had you bent over nearly every surface in the house. He loved watching the strings of your wetness peel away with the fabric, loved when it dripped down your thigh.

Once you were free of the only barrier between the two of you, you braced yourself flat against the counter, arching your back just enough to let him swipe his thumb through your pussy, allowing him relish in your wetness like a ritual he never dared to skip.

“Still want me to go?” he asked, though his voice carried a gentler note.

You turned your head, eyes back on the mirror. “Just fuck me,” you whispered—no, begged. “Please.”

He leaned in, bending over you to press a kiss to the inside of your forearm. Then another, trailing lazily up the length of your arm to your shoulder. Behind you, you felt his hand move between your bodies, hearing the rustle of fabric as he pushed his boxers down.

He aligned himself with you, dragging the thick length of his cock between your thighs, letting you feel everything. Every vein, every throbbing inch, the obscene heat of him paired with the wet slip of precum he spread over you.

You keened out a moan, barely managing to keep yourself upright even with the counter beneath you, legs beginning to shake with the effort it took to stay still.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” he murmured, voice rasping just below your ear. “I wanted to be there. More than anything.”

“I know,” you breathed just as he guided your hips, braced his feet, and buried himself inside you in one devastating thrust. The stretch sent you spiralling, tears spilling freely down your cheeks as your forehead found comfort in the marble once more.

He didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled out just enough to make you clench around the absence, and then slammed back in harder.

One hand slipped under your shirt, calloused fingers grazing your nipple while the other found its way back to your slick clit. All that came from your mouth were broken, pathetic sounds. Half-moans, half-sobs, every syllable caught between nonsense and pleading.

“A-Aaron, oh my f—god—oh—” Your voice wavered as he hit that spot again, and again, and again, until you were shaking with every thrust.

Drool slipped past your lips, a thick string trailing down to the countertop, followed by more, clinging to your chin, catching in the strands of your hair as you trembled under the weight of his body.

You felt Aaron release your nipple before his hand moved to your neck, his palm firm against your throat, holding you in place just as another string of spit slipped past your lips, landing on his hand.

“Look at you,” he grunted, tightening his hold as his hips lurched forward again. “Dripping from both ends.”

“Please don’t stop—I’m—I’m—”

“You’re close,” he chuntered, breath hot against your skin. “I can feel it, baby. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight, I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Your whole body locked, spine arching violently off the counter, eyes rolling back as the coil deep in your belly finally snapped. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, nothing coming out but air, tears, and barely intelligible sounds that might’ve been his name.

But Aaron didn’t stop.

Not even when your legs gave out beneath you, not when you slumped forward against the marble, sobbing through the aftershocks that tore right through you. He held you up, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other sliding up your back, fucking you through it, slow and deep now, like he needed to feel every last twitch and tremble your body offered him.

You could feel his rhythm start to falter, each thrust getting sloppier, his hips stuttering against you. Then, with a muffled moan into your shoulder, he pushed into you one final time and stilled, cock pulsing as he came. His grip eased, but his whole body shuddered against yours like he’d been hanging on just long enough to make sure you came first.

He made sure you were completely filled before he pulled out slowly, causing you to whimper at the emptiness. You barely managed to brush the damp hair from your face, to wipe away at the trail of drool on your chin, before his arms were around you again, this time gently guiding you down to the floor of the dressing room.

“Aaron,” you panted, landing on a pile of clothes you’d thrown there earlier. Soft cotton, rumpled cashmere, the ghost of his cologne clinging to it all. “What…what are you doing?”

“Shh, honey.” He knelt between your legs, his knees cracking on the way down.

“Sure this is good for your old man frame?”

He spread your legs open, fingers moving to push his come back inside you. “If I throw my back out eating your pussy, I’ll die a happy man.”

Your breath caught, hips jerking instinctively at the contact. “Jesus—Aaron—”

He lowered his head, mouth hot and wet as it latched onto your cunt, tongue dragging through the mess he’d just pushed back into you like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.

Your hands shot to his head, fingers tangling in his hair, undecided if you were pulling him closer or trying to push him away. “I don’t think I can go again, baby,” you gasped, your thighs twitching from the overstimulation.

You heard a sloppy, muffled, “You can,” just as he sucked your clit into his mouth, hard enough to make your vision white out for a second.

“Motherfuc—” Your legs locked around his head with such force that it had to be uncomfortable for him, maybe even a little painful. But when you opened your eyes and looked down, he didn’t look bothered in the slightest.

You caught the way his hips were grinding slowly into the rug beneath him, telling you this might not even be for your pleasure anymore but for his.

“I really, really don’t think I can come again,” you cried out, hips lifting into his mouth. “Please, Aar—”

Your voice broke off as he groaned against your pussy, loud and filthy. The vibration of it paired with the way he lapped at you, coaxed that familiar feeling, winding tight in your abdomen.

You shook your head, back arching, mouth open but no sound escaping as he sucked your clit into his mouth and circled it with his tongue over, and over and over again.

“Aaron, I—fuck—I’m gonna—”

The words dissolved into a sob as the pressure inside you reached its peak, crashing over you with a dizzying force. You came again, harder this time, legs spasming, hands clawing at the rug and his hair, tears slipping down your temples as your body convulsed under him.

You felt his mouth finally ease up, the warmth of him pulling away only for a moment until he was crawling up your body, bracing himself on his elbows as he hovered over you.

He scanned your face, watching the way your chest heaved, the way your eyes were still screwed shut as you tried to come down from the high he’d dragged out of you. He didn’t say anything, just let you come back to him on your own terms because he was generous like that.

Your fingers slowly loosened their grip on the rug, the tension bleeding from your limbs. Finally, you blinked up at him, dazed and thoroughly fucked-out.

“Think I went to heaven.”

He huffed a laugh, forehead dropping to yours. “Yeah?” he murmured. “Were they impressed?”

You let out a weak laugh, your hands dragging up from the rug to rest on his shoulders. “I’m still mad at you. Just… now I can do it with a clear head rather than a—”

“Horny one?” he supplied, earning a nod from you.

“Mhm. Was this your idea of an apology?”

“I mean…” He looked down at you, then at the mess around the closet. “It stopped you from throwing any more of my clothes, didn’t it?”

You snorted. “Temporarily.”

“I’ll take it.” He leaned down to press a lazy, unhurried kiss to your cheek. “Now, come on, let’s get you cleaned up. Then you can go back to yelling at me properly.”

[neuvilette-tea-party]

✶The shine of the Crown

Yandere! Elf Prince x Unlucky survivor F!reader — MDNI! TW: Fantasy setting, elf!yandere, power imbalance, royalty and servant, explicit torture, murder, one sided affection, non con, cunnilingus, fingering, P in V, breeding kink, forced creampie (multiple)

Everything is perfect. 

He planned absolutely everything for you, you’re the only one missing now. 

Prince Aodh takes a look around his large quarters in the Palace. He measures his chances. He truly does. He knows meeting his one and only is something that only happens to the most lucky, so many people live and die without ever meeting their true other half. So, for Him to have had the chance to meet you, He considers himself extremely lucky! 

And soon, He intends to honor you like you deserve to be. 

Prince Aodh ordered a lot of new pillows everywhere to create nests for you to lie down and relax. 

He will lay you down in all of them and take you tenderly all night long. 

He added a lot of new surfaces in his quarters. If you're freaky enough, He will gladly take you on them too. Anything to amuse you. 

He is quite excited and a bit nervous, actually. This is his first rut with a partner. Nobody in his kingdom ever caught his eye, not even his betrothed, so he took his brother’s remedy to suppress his rut all his life to keep them at bay. He got through life watching couples flourishing and getting at it passionately when the rut came. To him, it was always more of an annoyance and disturbance in his work. Try to keep an army focused when their instincts are screaming at them to take their partners to bed! A real challenge. Thanks to the Forest God, the Crown passed an edict forcing each general and minister to take suppressants, now calm and peace came back in the ranks, and he could speak to level-headed adults and not toddlers in armor consistently on the verge of implosion. Honestly, this aspect of the Elven species is such a burden! What a shame to be reduced to a rabid animal when you are civilized like them! For those reasons, he always hated that part of himself, what a relief he felt when his twin brother offered him that burgundy remedy to calm down his ardors when He developed his first pulsions. The sensation of freshness and renewed control he felt when he gulped down that mixture for the first time… Truly a blessing! 

If there is something He absolutely despises, it’s the loss of control. 

Prince Aodh knew of the pleasure of the flesh, but he never met someone worth enduring the rut with! Not even his betrothed.  

But then,  

He met you. 

Perfect you. 

Adorable you. 

How could He have predicted you? So far away from your people and civilization, in an empire of elves, how could He have predicted meeting his perfect match? The first time he saw you, lost and wounded in the black forest, He knew. He knew God created you for him and him only. You were dirty and bleeding, disheveled and starving, on the verge of death in your torn clothes. 

A frail, lost human woman... 

Did he find you beautiful?  

No idea.  

You just immediately caught his eyes, like a firefly is tempted by light He was drawn to you by a force beyond his understanding. He stopped his horse, completely ditching his twin brother, who kept hunting ahead of him, and got down to greet you, fearing you were just a mirage of his imagination. 

You lost consciousness right in front of him. The Prince just had the time to catch you before you hit the ground. He lifted your limp body up and carried you on his noble steed right back to the Secret Palace, a place so sacred no uninvited human could ever come across it.  

He ordered his physicians to immediately take you in charge and look over you every hour of the day and night, no matter if they were exhausted! The idea of seeing you die was unthinkable to him! 

You were only a meager human, so why was he acting so erratic at the idea of your death? Others, and he wondered. 

He only had to watch over you at night, listen to your feeble breath, and feel your fragile hands squeeze his large hand in a survival reflex for him to know. 

His 

You were his. 

And he were yours. 

You were mates, destined by the Gods. 

Your pheromones make his head spin so deliciously, He only has to dive his nose in the crook of your neck to get high off your scent, delectable vertigos seizing him like he was flying high in the sky. 

He felt like He was struck by lightning when He first heard your chuckle at one of his dry-humored responses to a fool of an apothecary in charge of healing you, and that was the sweetest sound He ever heard in his life! 

Sweeter even than the songs of the She-elves sung under the moonlight for the celebration of the Light. And you are so intelligent… He has the greatest pleasure discussing with you about everything! 

He already fantasized about inviting you into his Tactical room to strategize together. Or just have you sit cutely on his large lap while he orders his generals... 

The Crown would never allow it... For now 

He would find a way to make it bend the knee. 

Prince Aodh also has to deal with his betrothed asking why he is worrying about a meager human life. They were supposed to wed soon, and he was spending more time with you than preparing himself for her. He had to suppress a growl.  

He never had any interest in her as a future partner or even just a friend. Why would he? It is a purely political marriage; he just has to ensure she gets pregnant, and his job will be done. He has no intention to waste more energy than necessary with her. 

She never understood him, she won’t start now. He can give her a baby to keep her occupied, and run back to your embrace and love you as it pleases him. 

But before dealing with his unsufferable fiance, he had more pressing problems 

Right after leaving the infirmary, you started to make heart eyes at one of his lieutenants! 

And apparently He was not the only elf with scandalous taste around here because his lieutenant was flirting back... 

That fool had no education or class, why were you making doe eyes at him in the first place?  

How? 

Why? 

He could not tolerate it, He felt love for the very first time. He was not going to let you fly away from him that easily, especially for a mere elf such as him! 

So He started to take action. He kept his Lieutenant constantly away from the Secret Palace, giving him dangerous missions after dangerous missions, hoping he would get killed. 

But the cockroach always came back! 

When it was clear you were healed, the Crown asked you to return to your human lands and never come back. The Prince proposed to keep you here and teach you the Elven ways and language to send you back as a messenger and a diplomat between the two races! 

Humans and Elves’ diplomatic ties were now so tenuous now the two former allies were growing more and more hostile towards each other century by century until the former glory days of the Alliance would be no more than forgotten legends in the minds of men, and War broke out.  

Sending an envoy to your people could change the course of History. 

And he could keep you at his side. 

The Crown abided by his whims after long and numerous arguments between them. 

You were not exactly comfortable here, but living among the Elves is a privilege and an honor! And despite the little sparkle of fear in your eyes, He could see you were excited by the adventure. He gave you teachers and a servant to ease your everyday life and ‘hired’ you as his aide, keeping you close to him every day. 

Like a dream... 

And a away from that damn Lieutenant! 

He kept giving you conflicting agendas to make it hard for you to see each other. He made sure to humiliate his rival as much as possible with a stern expression and impossible questions when you three met, hoping your opinion about his rival would get tarnished, slowly but surely, for you to lose interest and distance yourself from him. 

During that time, He worked to place himself in your life as a friend, a comforting presence, and a shoulder to put your head on. He let you see parts of him he never revealed to anybody, not even His brother. You spent so many sleepless nights chatting together in his office around a glass of wine, he truly felt your relationship growing more intimate and purposeful. You had full access to his office for you to take care of his baby phoenix together, you who learned to love it so much! He kept showering you with privileges and special moments with him. 

Privileges he never even gave to his fiancée. 

He chuckles, thinking back about them! He thought he was in love with them back then, but clearly he did not know anything about love. 

He loves you now, and this is the purest thing he has ever felt through the long centuries of his life. 

And he thinks... NO, he is SURE you feel the same toward him! 

How would it be any different? He is an elven Prince after all! You should feel honored that He even laid his eyes on you once! 

And he wants so much more than just to lay his eyes on you! 

Everything was slowly falling into place, as the Prince wished. 

Or so he thought. 

One night, leaving his office, he wanted to stroll in the rose garden and pick a flower for you to discover on your pillow when you woke up. You lock your bedroom like any sane woman would, but you are not as sane as you imagine if you think a lock can keep him away from you! 

He saw you two 

Embrassing each other 

Kissing each other 

Exchanging sweet words discreetly 

That wretched peasant...! 

You were clearly under a curse or a spell! Why else would you still have an interest in that poor fool either way? Elf magic is powerful, and human minds are weak; it would not take much for you to fall into a trap. 

He felt his blood boil and his soul cry for you 

His beloved 

His darling 

Stuck between the claws of a wicked elf! 

He had to save you! 

He had to intervene drastically. 

It was quite simple: a hunting trip, a quick shot at the back of the head, dumping the body in the nearest river, and returning home, abandoning the corpse to the unchained elements. 

Oh, you were devastated, in tears for days. Days he offered his shoulder for you to cry on, hugging you tightly to appease your pain and relieve you. He cradled you for days, slowly reclaiming his place in your heart. 

He knows the kind of cold and imposing aura He gives off as the Heir of the Crown, so He took care to be as tender and soft as possible, giving you glimpses of his loving, intimate side. 

But you were in terrible shape, your mood and body seemed to decay day after day... He kept coming to you every day, in the hope of seeing you smile his way, running to him to hug him tight and declare him your endless love now that the curse was lifted. 

But you never did, and each day you seemed closer and closer to dying of malnourishment. 

Was the curse still in place? 

He was walking to his brother to ask him for advice on how to lift a strong curse, as magic was more his brother’s passion than his. He had just the time to see you both enter your bedroom and lock yourself up 

He was frozen in place 

... 

His brother 

His twin 

The closest being in his life until you... 

He was going behind his back...?! 

He was abusing his face, similar to his, to gain access to your bed!? 

The surprise dissolved in his veins to make place for the bitter taste of betrayal and the heat of the flames of ire and hate. 

Prince Aodh watched you both exit your bedroom, hidden behind a marble statue, as his brother caressed your cheek tenderly while you nodded, wiping a tear off your cheek with a tight smile. 

He clawed the column, leaving fissures in the stone in his rage. 

That same night, He entered his oh so dear brother’s room in silence, pinning a charm of silence and secrecy to the door for nobody to hear them. He remained standing, watching his brother sleep peacefully in the large bed. 

Fooling around with humans is not exactly forbidden, but his brother always notoriously looked at the practice with disdain and some disgust. 

And what’s the first thing this traitor did once Prince Aodh brought his human mate home...?! 

He could not help the serpentine hiss escaping his lips as He grabbed his brother’s throat, feeling the blood and the air flowing in and out. 

For a minute, He fantasized about squeezing this white throat until He strangled this traitor! 

But instead, He took out a bottle from his pocket and slowly opened the lid. He dramatically lifted the bottle over his brother’s face and poured down everything. 

Immediately, the acid started devouring his brother’s flesh with a disgusting sizzling sound. 

His brother immediately awoke, screaming in pain as Prince Aodh admired the flesh swelling up with bubbles and reddening with all the blood seeping out of the gushing pores. 

It was... Fascinating to witness this face, the same as his, getting disfigured under his eyes, how the flesh swells like a fruit too ripe and bursts open, wounding his brother beyond repair. 

His brother fell to the ground, screaming at the top of his lungs, trying to tear his painful skin off for a modicum of relief, digging his nails into the gushing, bleeding flesh. He was wriggling on the ground pathetically when He pressed his foot down his ribcage to immobilize his brother, observing his result like he would a painting. 

The once handsome face is now a grotesque mask of swollen flesh falling off with fumes and visible bones. 

Maybe it will even kill his brother... He was losing strength by the second, and soon would lose consciousness, and maybe dive into the dark waves of death for good. 

Before he fainted, He lowered himself to press his lips to what he supposed to be an ear before and whispered. 

“You will never approach her again... Never.Again...” 

His brother was discovered unmoving the next morning by a now traumatized Help and transported to the infirmary promptly. To this day, he has not woken up. Prince Aodh forbade you to enter the chamber under the pretense that he was afflicted by an illness that would be fatal for a human. 

So you obeyed. 

Like a cute little darling. 

He was in heaven! 

Finally! 

He had you for himself!  

No other pesky rival was standing between you two! 

It was finally time to formally profess your love for each other and mate together for life. Of course, humans are a mateless species, but that is nothing a little bit of magic cannot fix! 

It will feel like a chain at first for you, but you will not mind since you will be bound to him. 

He cannot wait! 

Which brings us to today. 

He never forced himself on you, but that doesn’t mean He can’t initiate actions, so He will seduce you out of your mind and take you to bed this week, and He will taste the pleasure of the rut for the first time in his life. He will indulge so much! Keeping you in bed for a full month, breeding you over and over, authorizing you to leave the nests only for the most basic of human necessities, and grabbing you back in the sheets immediately. 

He will get you addicted to him, to his cock. Absolutely ruining any other male for you. He will make sure you become pregnant, locking you with him forever. You are not a cruel woman to deny your child a father, no matter how horrible He might be. 

But He doesn’t have to be horrible to you… 

If you stay with him, He will be the most gentle, tender lover you’ve ever met, satisfying you beyond measure. 

If you ever look at another person, however… You will taste his wrath and learn your mistake in pain. But He does it for you both, He knows what’s truly good for you! 

Him 

Solely him. 

What better for a human’s happiness than a willing, devoted elven prince anyway? 

You need no one else in your life. Not even your former family. You will forget them rapidly when He will be plaguing your mind 24/7. Just as you do to him. 

He absent-mindedly caresses a pillow of one of the nests. Younger him never knew why Elves’ bedrooms were so large and had so many pillows in them.  

For the nests obviously. 

It is quite common for couples to prefer a nest of pillows, furs, and plushies to their bed. And for the first time in his life, He understands why. 

Oh, He cannot wait…  

Embracing you in those soft, fluffy nests and taking you languorously until you cry out of love and exhaustion, while He keeps thrusting deep into you. Your cute face in tears and forced into the furs while you squirt violently around his cock. 

He caresses his lips with a deviant smile, oh He’s going to enjoy it so much… Having you completely cock drunk, a babbling mess while He towers over you in full control. Oh, that is going to be so sweet… 

And you will become pregnant! Let’s not forget that delicious fact. 

He cannot wait to see you round with his child, maybe his twins or triplets. He will give you so many children! Elves have very large families, He is no exception; his instincts scream at him to procreate as much as possible with you. 

He wants to meet his children now, having them running around you both all day long… He will be the most dotting father ever and love them all day long, spoiling them rotten, maybe even to your dismay 

He chuckles at himself. He is already fantasizing about your future children without even having tasted your lips yet! 

Silly him! 

But he cannot help it, you are his little birdie he desperately wants to cage.  

Sometimes he even doubts you love him with how little attention you give him or how uninterested you appear in his conversation, some days. 

But you do love him. 

He knows you do. 

And you better do. 

He has nothing against using chains and gags, but He would like you to be happy at his side, not just a captive! But once pregnant, you will do the only respectable thing to do and accept to bond with him. 

It will be your only way to remain alive after the offense of seducing the Crown’s Heir. 

Then you will be with him forever. 

Living happily together, surrounded by your numerous heirs. 

He also prepared for that; he modified his diet, intensified his training routine, and started to take remedies the royal apothecary promised him would boost his fertility every day. One day, you came into his office, and you asked him what those berries were that he was swallowing with such a large smile. He lied to you, pretending it was only his favorite treat. It was too soon to reveal he was already planning your future pregnancies so early in your secret love affair, and you would have been scared, and He doesn’t want to scare you, only to back you into a corner. 

You are two different species after all, He cannot let those things go to the hazard. 

One week ago, when He felt the first symptoms of the rut, He gulped down twice the dosage, just to be sure… 

Prince Aodh used to hate those symptoms, those heat waves and sore muscles, but today He welcomes them with so much pleasure. He also felt growing territorial and possessive. He always tolerated you having friends among his people, He is not a complete monster, but those last few days? They realized how terrifying He could be with a single glance in their direction. They didn’t even have to speak with you; only standing in your vicinity was enough to send him into a boiling rage! Especially the males! He would appear from out of nowhere, his aura murderous and shooting them with his red gaze and dump them with even more chores and duties, especially on the other side of the Palace, far away from you, his darling. 

One had the nerve to hug you, and He ordered his servants to wash and scrub your body for a full hour despite your complaints to get rid of his disgusting scent. He couldn’t help it, it was making him gag to smell another male on you.  

You didn’t see that friend from then on… 

The sun rises, signaling to him it is time to head to the Grand room where He organized a session with all his advisors to treat the State’s latest affairs. You’ll be here, obviously, as his devoted, cute little aide. He will gorge himself on your scent and presence, boosting him for the rest of the day.  

No, for the whole month! 

He walks peacefully towards the board room, back straight and head high, when He starts to feel a heat wave approaching. Oh well, he will take a bath later. 

He turns a corner and smiles. 

You are here, notebook in hand, as the cutest little human aide you are. You never wait for him, too visible, and he likes his privacy, so you took the habit of getting ahead of him for him to meet you midway. 

Clever you, you know he cannot reveal your love affair to the Crown yet, so you take action without him even asking! 

Such an intelligent mate. You can hold entire conversations just looking into each other’s eyes. You are truly made for one another. 

He doesn’t slow down as he reaches you, his heart sprinting as your hands graze for a split second. 

“Good morning, Your Highness .” You greet. 

“Good morning, (Y/n).” 

“You seem tense. Are you all right?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

Oh, sweet, adorable you, you know him so well… And you always take care of him, noticing in one glance that something changed in him, not that He tried to hide it from you. You can see those parts of him, you are allowed. 

And those heatwaves are not really comfortable… 

“Am I?” Prince Aodh asks with a lopsided grin, “Quite the contrary, I feel full of energy.” 

“Really? Good.” You nodded. “We will need it for today.” 

You think about the politics and warfare, He thinks about the bed. 

“I am sure it will be a productive day.” He slowly nods, approvingly. 

Your scent comes to brush his nose, and He deeply inhales, inviting it deep into his lungs. It sets his nerves on fire, electrifying him to his core. He feels his horns tingling deliciously. 

That feels so good… 

You reach the Tactical room where everyone else is waiting and take your place. He opens the Map of the Empire, and the session can start. 

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

Everything was going so well. 

Prince Aodh was fully focused, mind set on his strategies, listening to his subordinates when it struck him like lightning. All his muscles suddenly violently contracted, chasing all the air out of his lungs. His usually so well-organized mind completely froze like stunted. It was so violent that He almost lost his balance and collapsed. But He held on, standing firm on his feet. 

And now there is only one thing he cares about. 

You. 

“Everyone… Out.” He says so coldly, a shudder spreads through the audience. 

“Your Highness? Did we do-” One starts to speak to understand this sudden shift of behavior. 

“Out!” He shouts, slamming his fist on the table. 

Everyone scurries outside, it’s the very first time they ever heard him raise his voice in a meeting, and they don’t intend to hear more! 

“(Y/n), you stay.” He orders harshly. 

He feels his cock gorging itself with blood, getting warmer and constricted in his tight pants. 

So this is how it truly feels… The sudden craving, hunger for flesh, that urge commanding all his senses and priorities. A desire so powerful that his only thought is to breed you immediately, right here and there, like an animal. 

You remain still, worried. You look at him, hugging your notebook against your breast, well hidden under that stupid tunic. He wants to tear it all apart, destroying it completely to discover your sweet naked body at last 

His hard gaze is on those incompetents who still haven’t evacuated the room. He turns towards the young helpers who are absolutely terrified, pressing themself at the door to leave as quickly as possible.   

If they don’t go away He will take you in front of them without any shame!  

They must have felt his black gaze on them because they suddenly managed to pass through the door and disappear away from him.  

The doors are shut. 

And He now turns towards you. 

You are now completely alone with a pissed-off Elven Prince. 

You are terrified beyond measure. He never raised his voice. Ever. He looks at you with a dark glare, like He could eat you up in one bite. 

You gulp. 

He skirts the large table, dark eyes fixed on you, frowning terribly. You press your notebook closer against you in a soothing manner. Did you do something? Said something? Angered him in some way? 

“Your Highness? Is something wrong?” You ask with tremors in your voice. 

You hope talking to him would snap him out of it, but He keeps walking towards you like a carnivore having cornered its prey. 

“Sir…” You call again. 

In complete silence, He seizes your notebook out of your grasp and just tears it in half like it’s nothing before tossing it aside. You gasp, shocked. 

“Sir! If I did-” 

You have no time to finish your sentence, his large hand comes to grasp your throat and pushes you against the wall, where He captures your lips in a demanding kiss. 

What the fuck is going on?! 

What’s wrong with the Prince?! 

Since day one, he looked at you in a weird fashion, and you consistently felt his breath on the back of your neck! Sometimes you were even sure to feel a presence in your room at night! You remained friendly and nice and polite, fearing he might explode all of a sudden. 

And right now, he is exploding. You are so shocked and terrified that you do not know how to react to his aggression, and you feel yourself frozen in fear. 

He presses his large body against yours, more petite in comparison. He squeezes your throat to force you to open your lips to let his tongue enter your mouth. He groans in the kiss like a pissed-off dragon as his tongue meets and hugs yours. 

You feel his erection against your pelvis, He brushes your groins together, leaving no doubt in your mind about what’s going to happen next. You moan pitifully, feeling yourself going limp. 

He suddenly grabs the back of your neck and pushes you unceremoniously against the wooden table, bending you over as your breath is cut. You have no time to register what He just did, He is behind you, towering over your figure and gripping the fabric of your pants, and violently tearing them off. 

“Sir?!” You beg, at loss for words.  

The Prince pulls on your sweet undergarments 

He cheekily hoped you would not be wearing any like a naughty girl, but opening you like a present is also nice.  

You try to rise up, but are immediately pushed back down with his hand on the back of your neck. 

“Do. Not. Move.” He orders with a chilling tone, inviting zero resistance. 

So you remain bent over, immobile, feeling the cold air hitting your exposed pussy. You gulp, throat dry, devoured by anxiety. 

You suddenly feel his wet tongue parting your folds. You grip the wood for dear life as He starts eating you out voraciously, like a starved animal.  

“Oh my gods, Sir…!” You gasp, out of your mind. 

He locates your clit and starts teasing it with sweet laps, circling it, gliding across it. He moans loudly to excite you further and you start feeling something wet leaking out of your pussy to roll on your thighs. He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it avidly, like a lollipop, making it roll between his lips and titillating it with the tip of his warm tongue. 

He just acts on instincts right now and they are telling him to devour your sweet pussy first. 

You press your hand to your mouth and immediately feel him bite the tender flesh of your thigh. 

“I forbid you to remain silent.” 

And to prove his point he takes a big, sloppy lap with the flat of his tongue from your clit to your perineum. You can’t help but moan in response, your legs starting to tremble under his care. 

“You are getting so wet. Good.” He praises you, but the tone is dark and… dangerous. 

He parts your pussylips with two fingers and probs your entrance with his tongue, drinking your slick loudly. 

“Ah! Yo-Your Majesty…” You choke on your words. 

“What is it, my darling? No male ever honored you this way? Such a shame.” He tuts. 

He grabs your butt with his two hands and penetrates you with his long, warm tongue. You can feel it waves inside you, grazing your sweet spot so deliciously, he circles it and glides across it with the tip of his tongue. 

Gosh, he wants to take you right now, but you could never take his size without any preparation. And he has always been curious about your pussy’s taste, and despite his urges it seemed like a good choice to him. His instincts are always right. 

He is always right. 

And your sweet gasps go straight to his cock, he is getting so painfully hard just hearing and tasting you. This is so addictive. He suddenly understands all those couples he used to look at with disdain. 

This is nothing like just sex, this is much more addicting and thrilling! 

This is just so… Right! 

He is not eating you out gently, but like a starved animal who just found a juicy piece of meat. He growls and purrs, satisfied by your tremors and quivers under his touch. This is how you should be with him all the time, a good girl for him to play all day long, a little bit fearful and dripping wet. 

He expertly opens his trousers to free his erection and starts pumping it in rhythm with your sweet mewls. You are like a little bird who sang the sweetest melodies for him.  

He has no idea if you ever squirted in your life but this is now his mission, you are not leaving his embrace until you squirted for him, no matter how many tries it takes, how many hours he will have to fuck you, you’re going to do it.  

For him.  

For his pleasure. 

He slurps down your essence loudly, satisfied with your taste. This is quite savory, you’re about to become his new favorite treat!  

“How does it feel?” He teases between sips, “Do you like it?” 

You, on your end, just cannot respond. The only sounds passing your lips right now are desperate moans as he eats you out conscientiously. Your brain is frozen in a fight-or-flight response.  

“My little bird does not wish to sing to me?” He growls. 

And he slaps your pussy. You shake with a groan of pain and pleasure, to your utmost distress. 

“Ah! It… I’ve never done that…” You confess, panting, praying he will take pity on you 

He smiles as he devours you 

Good. 

Your pussy will only know his lips and no one else. Only he will make you feel this good. 

“Vocalize your pleasure louder. I want the whole Palace to know who’s making you feel this good.” 

He laughs at himself internally. He who took care of hiding your love affair from anyone else is ready to throw everything through the window if it means everyone knows you belong to him and him only right now! 

The rut is truly something else. 

“Ah S-Sir...!” You call for him when he resumes tonguefucking you. 

But he can’t help it, you just taste so good. He will eat you out every morning from now on. Who cares if someone hears you through the wall of his bed chamber? 

Not him, not anymore. 

You’ll be mated anyway, so it is only normal that he fulfills his duty and takes care of his charming darling every day! 

You gasp as a wave of pleasure crashes upon you suddenly, so much you feel your pussy spurting something in his face with great force. Was that... An orgasm? 

You gulp, your first orgasm... At the hand of that creepy prince, white like a ghost and dead white eyes... You tried to remain on his good side by humoring him with conversations, but you did not foresee the trap you stepped into... 

He darkly chuckles, having reached his goal. You delivered splendidly! He licks his lips clean of your essence, feeling it beading from his chin. That was even better than he anticipated, the little jump his heart did when you squirted in his mouth as if he were a young child being offered a sweet! 

You try to catch your breath, still bent over the console, shaken by that orgasm and your fear, feeling your throat dry like the desert. 

You froze, hearing the sound of a belt behind you. 

“Oh sweet thing, this is only the beginning...”  He rasps, already thinking about this month of rut ahead of you two... 

So delicious. 

You feel his erection pressed against your spasming pussy, coating his shaft with your release. He feels… Large. Really large. Not that you are really surprised given his size, of course his penis would be as large as him. What you cannot determine, however, is his length. 

You bite your lips in anticipation and dread. 

You feel his tip probing your entrance, before feeling him pushing it inside. 

Oh dear Gods! He is so massive! Your inner muscles work to welcome his size inside of you, but you feel him splitting you in two. 

Your mouth opens in a perfect O, trying to accommodate his size, that’s a real challenge!  

“Your little pussy struggles to take me, and I am not halfway through.” He sadistically notes. 

He’s not halfway through?! 

No way! How are you…? How could you…? 

“Stop struggling.” He orders, “I feel you clenching all around my cock, if you do not want me ramming into you immediately it is best you relax.” 

“I’m... I just...!” You choke, digging your nails in the wood of the table, hanging on for dear life. 

How are you supposed to survive this...? 

He keeps pushing inside, filling you more and more, reaching depths you didn’t even know you had.  

“Relax, Darling. Breath.” He talks you through it with a softer tone, like he is pitying you. “We are almost there.” 

You feel his ridges brushing your inner walls, you feel his cocks having some sort of scales made of somewhat hard flesh but they caress your soft flesh so deliciously…  You gasp, breathless, when you feel his tip brushing your cervix deep inside you. 

You feel his hips brushing your butt, he is fully in.  

And that’s a feat! 

“You squeeze me so much, my darling.” He says in a gasp, “You were tailor made for my cock.” 

“I-I feel so stuffed!” You manage to let out while you try to breathe through your nose. 

Having his complete length inside you just chased all the air out of your lungs and your little pussy stretched to its maximum. If you were on your back and not your stomach, you would see a bulge, that’s for sure. 

“Well, thank you, my darling.” He licks his lips, “And this is all for you. Only for you. Now relax.” 

And without leaving you any time to adjust to his size, He starts thrusting inside you. Deep, hard thrusts punching the air out of our lungs each time. You feel his hips hitting your pussy harshly like a bull, assaulting your poor body. 

“Oh Maker! Sir, slow down! Please!” You choke on your own words. 

He rocks you so hard you almost bite your tongue at each back-and-forth movement. He fucks you roughly, without regard for your comfort on that sturdy table. You feel your poor pussy trying to take him ramming his whole length into you. Your release helps him slip inside easily, but doesn’t help his massive size problem. 

It also doesn’t help how uncomfortable and... soiled you started to feel. 

“I will not slow down.” He announces, deaf to your cries, “You can take it, I know it. You can take anything I give.” 

He grips your arms and holds them firmly with one hand on your back while the other holds your hip, preventing you from falling forward.  

Prince Aodh fucks you as voraciously as He ate you out, gluttonously and harshly. He keeps his merciless pace as you try desperately to keep some dignity as you feel him fucking your brain out. You feel your pleasure growing, not softly and nicely, but like a furious wave growing like a tsunami under his brutal rhythm. So much that a bit of drool starts dripping out of your mouth. 

His tip hits your cervix relentlessly and his ridges scratch the inside of your pussy savagely, scratching every sweet spot at once and making you see hyperspace behind your eyelids. 

“Fuck!” You shout. 

“What foul language, my darling. Should I also fuck your mouth to teach you manners?” 

His hand holding your hip sneaks under your stomach to reach your nervous clit, pulsating with your heartbeat. He starts rolling it between his fingers while he rams into you like an animal. He pounds into you like it is his last day alive, and you can’t do anything but take it, like a toy for him to play with. You can do so little, you are barely more than a fuckdoll for him. 

He is torn on his end. 

On one hand, this is so pleasurable, so fantastic, it sends him into such spirals of pleasure and heightens all his senses in such fashion! He gorges himself on your scent, of your pathetic moans of the wet sounds of your little pussy…It drives him so crazy, he wonders if he could ever slip out of you. 

He would surely die if he ever did that. 

And on the other end, he hoped to take you nicely and languorously for hours on end for days, helping you reach new heights of pleasure and taking care of you romantically, not take you like a monster. Him who used to treat you so tenderly in each and every fashion like the fragile porcelain doll you are… 

But this rut… 

This is something so strong, so unstoppable and unfightable. 

It took him by complete surprise, robbing him of his control. 

But for once in his life He decides that is not so bad… 

He gasps as he feels your small pussy clenching around his large girth. You strangle him so, so well, just the right size for him to enter and squeeze him deliciously. You truly are made for him and his cock. 

And absolutely no one else! 

He hopes you would be able to forgive him for fucking you in such a way! You deserve to be worshiped and idolized like a goddess all night long, and he had the firm attention to pamper and venerate you like his personal Goddess... He will make it up to you! He will spend the next hours adoring you for you to pardon him for his transgression! 

You feel your pussy clenching more and more under the growing waves spreading in your veins, setting fire to each nerve ending until you scream His name out loud. 

It was completely unprompted; it escaped you while you tried to gasp for air, but your orgasm crashed on you so suddenly it took you by surprise. The tsunami reached the shore and devastated everything in its wake.  

“Keep screaming, My Darling. I want everyone to know who is fucking you this good.” 

You convulsing around him pushes him beyond pleasure, and He comes inside you without your consent after three more deep thrusts. He buries himself deep, spurting his seed in your most secret place. He feels your entire body tensing, then slumping, like all your strength escaped your organism with a “oof.” 

He gently caresses the cheeks of your butt with his large warm hands as he catches his breath, still deep inside. He slips his disheveled strands of long hair back on his head and opens his leather straps to get rid of his plate armor and his now-sweaty tunic. 

This is a really nice physical exercise! Far more enjoyable than his dry and boring warrior training. It could become his new routine! He always has been more than serious with his training, but he would look up to this new exercise each day, and he would partake with so much enthusiasm! 

You surely would not object! He would give you so much pleasure each and every day… 

He slips out of you and makes you roll on your back. You are still catching your breath while he has already recovered. Humans are no match for Elves’ stamina after all. He growls as he sees his semen oozing out of you.  

You are already wasting it! 

He collects it with his fingers and pushes it back inside, penetrating your sex with his slender digits. He sees you shaking with this simple touch, you are still so sensitive after all… He cleans you with his fingers, fingering it back inside your greedy womb that tries to retain him inside. He grins lightly. Your body doesn’t seem satisfied with two orgasms and seems to already call for him and his talents again.  

You, on the other hand, seem exhausted. 

He enters you again, localizing your G-spot easily, and starts brushing it eagerly. You mewl tiredly in response but your body’s answer is undeniably positive, your pussy stretches enthusiastically, dripping wet, and your legs spasm each time he scratches your spot with the pad of his fingers.  

“Sir…” You try to call, your hand lazily raising to grab his arm and stop him. 

But you have no energy left, and let your hand fall back to your side. He keeps fingering you, enjoying the ungodly wet noises of your pussy, stuffed with his white cum. 

One won’t be enough.  You need to do it again. Over and over again, until your cute tummy is completely bloated with his semen.  

Then, and only then, he will consider that he did a sufficient job. 

He pushes a third finger inside, and you whimper, like sweet music. Prince Aodh scissors you thoroughly, admiring your entrance gaping around his fingers. He can’t believe such a little pussy could take him so well, He actually thought you would not and break under him. But you did. And quite well, considering it. 

You gave him so much pleasure already, choking his shaft so lusciously, hugging his form so perfectly He felt like he could mold your insides for his specific shape, ensuring that any potential rival is terribly disappointing to you. 

But there will be no potential rival. In any shape or form. 

“Your... Higness…” You pitifully call again, your chest rising up and down as you breathe. 

“Is there a problem, my Darling? Are you in pain?” He investigates, just to be sure. 

He is not a monster after all. 

“No… No but-” You throw your head back with pleasure as He accelerates his ministrations. “Ah!” 

You’re in no pain, that’s all He wanted to know. 

“Let it happen, my darling. There is no use fighting it, let me take care of everything.” He charms you with his enthralling, deep, melodious voice. 

He circles and crosses your G-spot, rubbing it roughly while adding pressure with a hand on your Venus mound, earning sobs and moans from your part. He adds pressure on your clit with his thumb, gliding across it and flicking it, feeling you dripping off his hand as He hooks you from inside. He accelerates his care, stretching your pussy well as you tremble under his hand, knuckles deep, curling and spreading them, making his fingers twirl to caress any inner surfaces of your pussy. He then resumes fingering you mercilessly until you cry your eyes out, big tears rolling down as your pussy spasms around his soaked digits. 

You come again, shuddering dramatically. While you try to catch your breath again, He lowers himself to the level of your pussy to make sure all of his potent semen was inside, where it should be. He traces your pussylips with his fingers, utterly fascinated by that jewel of nature. 

He kisses your slit with reverence and raises back on his feet. 

He looms over you and pulls your tunic over your chemise. He takes out his blade and cuts it open, revealing your breast to his eyes. He feels his own eyes rounding up as He discovers them in plain sight, your nipples standing up to attention as the cold bites them. 

Your boobs are just to his taste, just how he likes them. 

He grabs them in his large hand and kneads them well, rolling your nipples between his fingers. He leans forward and takes one in his mouth, sucking on it. 

Soon, when he does that again, He will taste your milk. He will drink from your tits when they get heavy with milk. He cannot wait… 

He kisses it and takes the other one in his mouth, licking across the soft skin, peppering it with soft kisses as you sob, cheeks soaked, your hand coming to caress his hair. 

He stands back straight, slicking his long hair back, letting sweat roll on his gorgeous body, his skin glistening with sweat. His white eyes shine hungrily in the low light of the room, fixated on your form under him. 

He pumps his cock one or two times, hardening already again and pushes it back inside, your essence acting up as lube. He watches fascinated how his penis disappears inside your body, a creamy O at his base.  

The bulge is consequent, and He can’t help a dark snicker. You are going to be gorgeous, all round with his child… 

He resumes his hard thrusting, gripping your hips harshly, digging his nails into your soft flesh to keep you in place. He watches your boobs bobbing up and down, hypnotized. You whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks, as all of this is way too much for you. You’re oversensitive, and He keeps the pleasure rolling longer and farther, teasing your nerves until you break down completely. 

But He wants more. 

He broke down your sentiments, but He wants to break down your mind, utterly destroying it. He wants you dumb and cockdrunk, stuffed with his seed like the good girl he knows you are. So He keeps burying his girth deep in you, brushing your G-spot with the edges of his ridges  

He needs to give you more loads or you’ll never get pregnant!  

What if the remedies He took were not enough? He worries in the back of his mind. What if nothing was enough and you’ll never get pregnant? What if your two species are ultimately incompatible? 

Prince Aodh pushes these thoughts back. 

Of course, He’s going to get you pregnant. He is The Prince, a warrior, an Elf. Nothing is impossible to him. 

He would not allow any other results. 

He rocks his hips into yours, reveling in the pleasure you are giving him. He undulates his body with delight, meeting your dripping sex, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoing in the large room. He chases both of your releases while you fully tremble underneath him, He seizes your thighs with his large hands and spreads them wide open, throwing your legs on his shoulders, allowing him to deepen his thrusts. 

Oh that is just so good… 

He hoped his first time with you would have been romantic and sweet. He still has a heart full of love and devotion after all, He thought that after a date at a gallery, He would have treated you to a nice dinner before carrying you to bed and honoring you all night long. But instead, He is ramming into you like a beast, in the middle of his boardroom on his ship for all his crew to hear, trying to break you into a million pieces under him. 

You truly never know what life has in store for you! 

In all honesty, He didn’t know it would go so well. He feared entering you for the first time would have him come undone right here and there, and it almost happened! He had to collect all his will to not explode inside just by entering you. His honor would have never recovered if He had come before satisfying his darling first! 

What kind of elf would he be then? One that only chases his own pleasure like a self-centered jerk? He likes to think of himself as above that. 

Granted, you are in this situation because he couldn’t help but chase his own release, but that is completely beside the point! 

He circles his hips to vary the sensations, and you bite your lips to blood in response. 

“What did I say about silencing yourself?” He scolds you, growling. 

He seizes your jaw, pressing your cheeks like a fish, and leans forward dangerously, shooting you with his feverish gaze. You look so silly like that. 

“This is the last time I warn you, understood?” He demands with a dark tone. 

You can only nod with your silly expression, eyes round with surprise and submission. That looks good on you. He leans further to lick your cheek as He rocks his hips, realizing you soiled it with your drool, smeared all over your jaw. Did you lose all control? He wonders, snickering. 

He captures your lips for a messy kiss, tongue dancing, and drool exchanging. You whine, having your air robbed out of you, and He accentuates his thrusts to have you reach higher notes. The Prince lies fully on you, taking you in his arms to hug you tight, his thrusts are still mean and hard, hurting your pelvis with his raw strength.  

“Focus on kissing me, sweet thing.” He orders, between little kisses all over your jaw. 

He feels you drooling on yourself as your lips meet again, and that amuses him tremendously. He moans in the kisses, burying himself to the hilt as your pussy swallows him whole as it should. 

His heart is singing. Is it what true bliss feels like? Being one with your other half… 

He licks your lips as you roll your eyes inside your skull, too lost in the pleasure and utter fear he gives you. He keeps bullying his length into you, embracing you with his long arms. He sneaks his hand under your tunic on your back and buries his nose in the crook of your neck to inhale your musk. His heart flutters, pumping his blood at 100 miles per hour. It has been so long since he felt excitement like that, such pure joy, having you close like that, sharing such an intimate and vulnerable moment with you. He brushes the tip of his nose on your neck, purring deeply while you keep whimpering in his ears, arms circled around his large form and legs circled around his waist, keeping him deep buried in your puffy pussy. 

You long stopped trying to formulate sentences, your brain is too fried for you to speak proper Elvish, instead just letting broken mewls escape you. But that is as good for him, that is a testimony of the overwhelming pleasure he is giving you, and He revels in it with pride. 

Your inner walls are all gorged with blood, fluffy and soft for his cock, your pussy is clenching painfully around him and your clit is pulsating furiously, begging for attention. You snake one hand between your two bodies to caress it, and maybe ease your painful muscles, prompting him to look down at what you are doing. 

“Sorry, my darling. You invaded all of my mind, and I lost track of things.”He apologizes. 

One of his large hands follows yours and starts to tease your bundle of nerves instead of your more petite hand. 

What kind of idiot is He? How dare He lose himself so much to stop paying attention to your needs? He chastises himself. 

Prince Aodh thoroughly rolls and presses your clit between his fingers as He undulates his hips with the energy of a beast. He resumes kissing you, feeling so light, like all his pressure and problems just vanished in your presence. He hugs your tongue with his, dancing with it, robbing you of your breath. 

You feel the waves of pleasure spreading through your veins and your pussy, making it convulsing ferociously and you come for the fourth time, screaming the Prince’s name. 

Once again, your orgasm pushes his and He comes deep inside your womb for a second time.  

This time you notice. 

“You came inside?” You ask breathlessly, visibly worried,  

“Oh my.” He responds with a lopsided grin, caressing the bulge made by his shaft with his warm hand, “Then we will have no other choice but to take care of a little one.” 

Abortion is out of the question. For you? With his child? Out of the question. He will not even entertain the idea. 

“Wha-What? … But Your Higness!?” You blabber, your voice completely broken between your tears. 

“I will take my responsibilities with you and the kid, do not worry about anything.” He puts his forehead against yours, shiny white eyes buried in yours. “I will not disappear and leave you alone. Everything will be alright. We will be together.” He embraces you tightly. “You need not worry.” 

He cradles you gently, hearing your shallow, rapid breaths. He sighs, satisfied. 

Well, not completely. Two is still not enough. He starts a back and forth movement again, but this time slow, gentle, loving, languorous… 

"A... Again?” You sob incredulously, at the end of your own rope 

 He brushes his nose with yours. 

“I told you earlier I was full of energy today… I know you are tired, my darling, but you do not need to cry like that. Let me do the work. Easy, easy... ” 

He holds your cheeks in his hands, forehead against forehead, purring gently and deeply. 

This. 

This is true bliss. True happiness. You and him, locked together forever. Legacies tied in reputation and now blood. 

“What will I do if I get pregnant?” Your tears keep rolling down your cheeks as your shoulders shake, “Your fiance will hunt me down, the Crown, your Parents will hang me for the offence, I... I am going to die!.” You start panicking 

Aodh growls at such a childish display, making you freeze. Why won’t you drop the subject? Or better yet, why don’t you see it as the absolutely marvelous good news for your couple as he does? 

Now that you’ve mated together, no need to hide the affair, no need to refer to each other as simple ‘friends’ as you did until now! You will be able to live your love under the sun! 

“You will not lose anything. I will keep you at my side, whatever might happen. No one will even touch a single strand of your hair on that splendid head of yours.. Like I said…” He looks into your eyes with the most serious expression you have ever seen on his face and… Some underlying hunger and jealousy, “... Do not worry about anything.” 

[fanfictiongirlie]

Marvel: Perfect

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Description:

Reader and Bucky hate one another, but they always get put on missions together. They have to stop at a motel for the night after a mission, oh no, there's only one bed. Enemies to Lovers (Kinda) & Only One Bed Tropes!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Motel Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Eating Out, Pussy Eating, Name Calling, Swearing, Porn With Plot, Some Plot (Let me know if I've missed anything)

Words: 4,698

First Part to Two Parter Story. Click here for second half.

Bucky Barnes never understood why the entire team loved you. He didn't love you. He thought you were annoying, and perfect. Not good perfect, why were you good at everything? It annoyed him, so naturally he had always taken it out on you. And you gladly reciprocated. There was an element of fun when you had your screaming matches, and secretly you liked it. 

The worst part was the missions, you and Bucky were the perfect partners, Steve knew it too, so every blasted mission, you were paired with perfect Barnes, you never understood why the team thought he was perfect. Sure, he was good at everything, it still annoyed you. 

Currently the two of you were sat in a random car Steve had hired for you both, the mission had been a success and you were on the way home. Except there was a huge storm coming in, so there were no flights, Bucky hadn't wanted to wait in an airport - they made him nervous. 

So now, the two of you were in the thick country, driving through deep lanes of tree arched lanes, the rain was hammered down onto the car, you hadn't realised the wipers were able to reach the speed they were on. Bucky had one hand gripped onto the wheel, and his other leaning on his elbow against the bottom of his window so he could rest his head on his hand. You were trying to see out of your window but had no luck, it was dark, there were no street lamps, and the rain was so heavy it wasn't like you could actually see anything. The only time things became visible was when the sky would crack loudly and for a short moment light up the sky with lightning. 

"I think we should..." You start to say before stopping, Bucky didn't pay notice to your words. You reached into your jean pockets and grabbed your phone, googling what you wanted to google, luckily you had one tiny bar, so after waiting a few minutes, the search finally came up. 

"There's a motel, few miles away" You mumble, knowing his super soldier hearing would hear. 

"It's fine" Bucky mutters, his voice gruff. 

"Bucky, we have fifteen hours left..." You say, looking at him, his eyes were narrowed as he looked to the road. "Tell me you're not struggling to see"

Bucky let out a small huff, his hand gripped the wheel a little tighter. He didn't want to admit you were right, but you were. Of course. He grunted, you were always right. "Fine, give me the directions"

You smirk, knowing how much he hated going with your plan. YOu gave him the directions, trusting your phone completely, before he agreed to the motel, you had screenshotted the steps, which had been a good idea since the closer you got to the motel, the less signal you had. 

Bucky drove into the small car park of the motel, it was dingy, and on a guess, you'd say there had to be thirty rooms maybe? Bucky parked into the only space free in the lot. You grabbed your bag and rushed from the car, you ran, though seconds under the rain and you were drenched, you waited for Bucky by the reception hut's doors. 

Bucky walked in first, the hut was tiny, if you stretched your arms either side you could probably touch both walls, not that you'd want to. The walls were a mustard yellow, but somehow you thought maybe they were originally white. The thought made your skin shiver and itch slightly. 

You turn your attention to Bucky, who had been talking to the man behind the desk, a gruff looking man who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but here. 

"I've got one room, take it or leave it" The man says, his eyes on the newspaper in his hands. Bucky sighs, a small grunt leaves his lips. 

"Yeah, that's fine" He mutters "We'll take it" 

You didn't think much of it, you and Bucky had shared a room hundreds of times. Usually it wasn't the last room free in a dinghy motel. As long as there were two beds. Or at least a couch. 

Bucky takes the key and brushes past you to leave hut, you follow stepping out from the hut too. The rain was still hammering down, the air felt icy as you followed Bucky to your room. 

Bucky opens the door and stops in the doorway. "Fuck"

You had stopped behind him, his taller frame blocking your view into the room. 

"There's only one fucking bed" Bucky grumbles as he steps inside, finally letting you in and out from the rain. You look around the room, seeing he was right. The room was basic, it wasn't as off-puting as the reception. The walls were a deep purple, rather than the musky yellow colour, the floor was a questionable green. But the bed looked nice, it looked clean, which was good, but it dawned on you that you'd have to share with Bucky. There was no couch, or even chair. The room had a bed, and that was it. 

"I'm going to shower" You mutter, your bag was still on your shoulder as you stepped closer to the shower room. Bucky huffs and sits on the edge of the bed. 

"Don't use up all the hot water" Bucky snaps. 

"If there's any to begin with" You snap back, you then walk into the shower room, shutting the door behind you. You take a second to lean back against the door, taking in a deep breath. You were only human, and the thought of sharing a somewhat small bed with a man that looked like that made a heat begin between your legs that you were going to ignore. 

The shower wasn't anything amazing, and unshockingly there was no hot water. You winced and washed as quickly as you could, feeling a little better afterwards. You didn't pack a lot of clothes, your mission wear, which you had been wearing, and some lounge wear: A pair of cosy shorts which were pink, and a Star Wars top, it was oversized and had the poster for A New Hope printed on it. You blushed as you looked into the murky mirror, you had to remind yourself Bucky wouldn't be looking at you or your clothes... right?

Back in the bedroom, Bucky grabbed his own bag, the moment you left the shower room, he stepped inside. Leaving you alone in the bedroom. You sighed and climbed into the bed, you grabbed your phone and texted Steve. 

'Weather's awful, we're at a motel for the night' 

'Noted. Don't kill one another' Steve texts back, you let out a small laugh and put your phone back in your bag. Moments later Bucky stepped out from the shower room, in a black pair of boxers and a black tank top, you had to remind yourself that you hated him, and the only reason your mouth went dry was because it had been a while. No other reason. Definitely not because, goddamn he looked so good. 

"You used all the hot water" He mutters, you watch as he drops his bag down by the bed, before sitting on the edge of his side of the bed. 

"There was none" You answer back with a huff. "Trust you to get pissy over having a cold shower, Winter boy" 

"Shut up, that's a dumb nickname" 

"You're a dumb nickname" You mutter, not your best insult, but you were tired. The bed's duvet was awful, the room had a slight chill, and annoyingly the more Bucky got himself comfortable in the bed, the warmer you felt. Feeling his warmth against your body, the bed wasn't big, and Bucky was a huge, muscular man, he took up most of the bed. 

"Goodnight, maybe a good night's sleep will help you come up with a decent insult" He says with a chuckle, the both of you settle into the bed, there was a small switch on the wall by your side, you flicked it and the room was shrouded in darkness. 

You laid there in the darkness, on your back looking up at the ceiling, the rain was loud outside the window, you hoped it would calm by morning. 

________

You weren't sure how long it had been, but it wasn't morning, the window behind that god awful lime green curtain. You had been asleep, but something had woken you up, and that something was tight around your waist. 

"Fuck" you mutter to yourself, Bucky's flesh arm was draped over your middle, his hand was spread, pressed against your abdomen. His soft snoring just behind your ear suggested he was still asleep. His body wasn't quite pressed against your back, but he was close, you could feel his lower legs against yours. 

You wiggled slightly, regretting it almost immediately as his hand moved slightly lower, you had to bite your lip to stop the pathetic moan leaving your lips. 

Bucky moved slightly, his eyes fluttered open, but the residue of sleep still hazed over his mind, he looked over to you, your back was to him, his arm still over your waist. He had wanted to move, but it felt so good to hold another person. God, it had been so long. He waited for a few moments, you seemed to be asleep, so he moved slightly, pressing his front to your back. You were most certainly awake, and shocked at his movements. Neither of you had even acknowledged the other being awake, so you were frozen, though a small gasp left your lips as you felt his hard cock digging into your lower back, the thin material of his boxers and your shorts leaving nothing to the imagination. 

You decided to move your body into his, it could easily be mistaken for a stretch from someone deep in their sleep, his hand moved, tucking itself under you slightly, bringing you closer to his body than before. 

"Fuck" Bucky mutters. "I know you're awake"

Of course he did. He was a trained super soldier, he could probably tell when someone was awake or asleep. You cursed to yourself, in your head, questioning whether you should admit you were awake. Would he stop? Would he carry on? These questions were floating around your mind, did you want him to stop? This was wrong, so wrong. You were partners, fuck, you hated one another. But he was so good looking. 

"Come on doll, talk to me" He whispers, his words dancing along the back of your neck as he presses his nose into your neck. 

"I'm awake" You mutter, not having thought of anything else to say. What could you say? Without thinking you move your backside again, rubbing against his hard cock perfectly so it lined with your arse crack. Both of you let out a small, whimpering gasp. 

"You have to stop that...unless you..." He says, his words trailing off. You had your eyes squeezed shut, it was dark anyway, you didn't need them open. 

"Unless what?" You question, your voice quieter than usual, you didn't trust yourself to speak above a whisper. Bucky sighs from behind you, he was having the same battle in his mind as you were. He didn't like you, he never had, never liked how snappy you were with him, or how you always knew exactly how to make every mission go perfectly, and fuck he hated how good your body felt against his. 

"Don't make me say it" He grumbles, you weren't sure who started moving first, but your hips and his were moving slowly, you grinded back into him whilst he grinded against you. 

"Aw is the poor Winter Soldier nervous?" You joke, laughing softly. Your giggles soon stopped when his hand moved from your abdomen to your hip, his hand gripped your flesh as he started his hips harder against you. 

"Wanna say that again? Or do you wanna do this?" He asks, his voice gruff as he speaks. 

"Wow, that's a really good way to seduce someone" You answer dryly, you had a small smirk on your lips as he spoke, his grip tightened. "Ask me nicely snow boy"

Bucky rolls his eyes, you always called him dumb nicknames concerning his Winter Soldier days, in fact you were the only one he knew that did make jokes. He'd never admit it aloud, but he kind of loved it. Everyone else ignored it, pretended like it had never happened. But you, no, you would make jokes, it almost made him feel like it was okay that it had happened. 

Bucky presses a short kiss to your neck, it felt like breaking the final barrier between the situation. He takes a few moments, and then whispers your name, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks, driving you insane. 

"Let me fuck you" 

"Say please" You whisper with a playful grin, he couldn't see your face, or anything much in the darkness of the room, Bucky lets out a soft growl, sending shivers straight down to your already wetness between your legs. 

"Anyone ever tell you how annoying you are?" He asks, the hand on his hip moved, slowly down the front of your shorts, on a different day he would of taken the piss, they were soft and maybe a little fluffy, but he wouldn't say anything, not right now. You stayed quiet, your heavy breathing the only sound in the room as he moved to cup your sex. You let out a small yelp at his touch. 

"What was that, doll?" He purrs in your ear. 

"I hate you" You mutter as you open your legs. 

"That's a girl" He says, taking hold of you thigh, he moved your leg to hook over his, lying you slightly on your back. He moves his hand back to your clothed sex, and starts rubbing you through the fabric. "Fuck, you want this, don't you baby?"

You don't answer him, opting to bite your lip as you body warms from his touch. Fuck, he had barely touched you and you were melting against him. 

"Use your words, or I'll stop" He says with a smirk. "I'm going to ask you a question, if you don't use your words, I'll stop, and turn away and go to sleep"

 His fingers press down to your clit, you hadn't looked to him yet, his lips were resting below your ear, his words were making your brain fuzzy. 

"I want to taste you, will you let me?" He asks, at first you nod. But you knew he wanted more than a mere nod. 

"Yes Bucky, please" You whimper. 

"What would you like darling?" He asks. Dickhead. That's what he was. God, you hated him, fuck, you needed him. 

"I want you to taste me" You say through gritted teeth. Bucky chuckles in your ear, his breath tickled the shell of your ear, he moves presses a soft kiss to your jaw, moving to kiss along your jaw as he moves himself. Just before he kisses your lips, he stands up and starts to take his shirt and boxers off. 

"Take your clothes on, doll" He says, you can only just see him in the darkness but you listen, shedding your top and shorts off. 

"Oh" You say quietly as he climbs back onto the bed, the lower half so he could crawl between your legs. 

"What?" He questions. 

"I uhh haven't shaved in a few days" You say, feeling a little bashful as he opens your legs, getting comfortable between them. 

"I don't care about that" He says, and not a second later his lips were on your clit, your hips jolt up into him. Bucky moved his hands under your arse, taking hold on your cheeks, so he had a good grip as he tastes you. He sucks on your clit until it was swollen and puffy in his mouth, and then moved his tongue down, slipping it in between your wet slit. He groaned at the taste. 

Your back was arched, your hands were clenched into fists on the sheets of the bed. Bucky was lying on his front, noisily slurping between your legs, you had wanted to giggle thinking about how his legs must be dangling off the bed. One of his hands move from your arse and takes your hand in his, moving it to the top of his head. 

"Hold me where you want me baby" He growls, your eyes roll back as you grip his head, letting your fingers weave through his hair. You hadn't expected his hair to be that soft, but it was. Visions of running your fingers through his locks whilst watching a movie together flashed through your mind before you shook your head to forget it. He moves his hand back down, and presses two fingers to your eager hole. 

"Bucky, fuck...please!" You whine, your voice loud, your heart hammered in your chest. All thoughts were gone, you needed him and only him. You hated that you knew he was smirking, you could feel the curl of his lips against your lips as two of his metal fingers push into you, he started slowly pump his fingers. 

"Uhh...yess" You whined, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach. It had been so long since someone else had made you feel this good, you hated him for a moment, of course Bucky was good at this. 

"Mmm are you going to come for me?" He asks, his voice low as he laps at you between each word. "Let me taste you" He adds, you were moaning loudly now, your hips were grinding against his face as his fingers pumped into you, his lips were still on your clit. His words were sending shocks through you, how was this the man you argued with on a daily. Last week you had a screaming match so loud, Steve put you in time outs. And now... 

"Fuck!" You squealed loudly as you felt yourself coming hard, your body shook as he used his free hand to hold your hips down as he sucked hard against your core. 

Moments later you were still mind frazzled, your body felt warm and a happy daze fluttered around your body. Bucky chuckled from between your legs, he slowly removed his fingers, before giving your clit a final kiss before moving up your body, crawling, you opened your legs, giving him space to sit comfortably. 

"Was that good, darling?" He asks as his face hovered over yours. "Come on, doll, what do we say?"

"Thank you, dickhead" You mutter, he chuckled again, his nose brushing yours, you froze slightly. Was he going to kiss you? Did you want that? He just made you come, a kiss was nothing, right?

You decided it wasn't a big deal, so you moved up slightly, pressing your lips to his. For a moment, neither of you moved, but then you did, his lips moved with yours, his tongue left his lips to taste you. His tongue tasted like you, you moaned softly against his lips. 

Bucky moved his hips so his hard, and untouched cock pressed against your wetness, he groaned against your lips, the head of his sensitive cock slipped between your folds, causing his body to shudder. You moved your hips, feeling his cock slip down to prod at your hole. 

"Fuck" Bucky mutters against your lips, he moves slightly, his face barely visible as he looks down at you. "Can I...gods, can I fuck you?"

"Yes..." You whisper, all thoughts about how this was probably a bad idea left your mind. Who cares, right now there was a super soldier that wanted to fuck you. And you were going to let him. Bucky lifts slightly, moving his hand down to grip his cock, he groans loudly as he grips himself. 

"Ready for me?" He asks, his lips hovering close to yours. 

"Cocky much, Snowball" You answer back, pressing your lips back to his. Bucky swallowed down his pride and stopped himself making a snappy joke, he pumped his cock a few times before pressing the head to your pussy, he could already tell it would be a tight fit, he had a deep, slightly worrying feeling that he would become addicted to you in just a few moments. 

You both gasp as he pushes into you, your lips no longer kissing, as Bucky slowly thrusts deeper into you. Bucky smirked as your legs shook slightly, his cock was fully in you now, and he was right, addicted. 

"What did you say? Cocky?" He smirks. 

"Fuck, shut up Barnes and fuck me" You growl out. You had never felt so full, he was so big, of course he was, super soldier serum and all. But fuck, he was...perfect, you genuinely think he had ruined you for other men.

Bucky moved his hand down between you and pressed his thumb, if not a little awkwardly against your clit, he moved slightly, electing little noises from your lips. He wanted to remember the noises you made for the next time he was alone. 

"You feel perfect" He whispers. "Of course you'd fucking feel perfect"

"Says you... Oh god, did we just become friends?" You ask, a slight playfulness to your tone. Bucky chuckles, he starts moving his hips, you were so wet, covering the entire length of his thick cock with your juices. 

"Definitely not, we're enemies to the end, don't you worry" He says, his voice strained as he almost pulls completely out of you, before thrusting back into you, hard. You both groan loudly, your hands move to grip his shoulders, you were careful of his metal shoulder scar. 

Bucky moved his hips back and forth, fucking into your tight pussy, he felt like you were sucking him in, it was enough to make him bite his lip and remind himself not to finish in two minutes like some teenager. He pressed down harder against your clit, feeling how you tightened every time he did. 

"I want you to come for me again" He grunts, as he fucks you harder. You whine and lift your knees a little higher, resting your thighs against his muscular thighs. His spare hand was rested on your hip, holding you tightly as lifts his hips up and down. He moves his thumb a little fast, slipping slightly from your wetness. Your legs squeezed his sides slightly as you felt the coil build in your stomach. 

"Close...oh fuck I'm close" You whimper, your breath heavy as he pounds into you, you grip his shoulders a little tighter. "Bucky.."

"That's it, come for me, fuck" Bucky grunts as he pounds faster into you, he felt a sweat collecting on his brow, something that didn't happen often, he moved down, pressing his lips to your neck, he wanted to leave a mark on you. Wanted a reminder in the morning he hadn't dreamt of this. 

You moaned loudly as you felt yourself come hard, your pussy walls clenched around his cock, adding to your pleasure as you chanted his name again and again. 

"That's it, that's my..." Bucky whispers as he sucks hard against the skin of your neck. He stops himself, feeling silly as he nearly called you his girl. You weren't his girl. He hated you, oh fuck he hated you, he thought to himself as his hips slammed into yours, his movements growing sloppy. 

You laid there, feeling a little lightheaded, he had fucked you good, fucked you so well. You giggled lazily as his hips lost their rhythm.  

"You going to come inside of me Barnes?" You ask, he lifts his head to look up at you, you could just about see his eyes. 

"Can I? Oh fuck, I didn't even think...Doll, I'm sorry" He rambles, you stop his words with a short kiss. 

"I would of told you, you can finish in me...or on me, whatever you like" You say, before you press your lips to his again. His hips start moving again, fucking into you, a soft ache had started at the feeling, he was larger than you had ever had before, and boy were you feeling it, and you were sure you'd feel it tomorrow. 

Bucky grunts and sits up, ripping his lips from yours as he sits up on his knees, he pulls his cock out from you, and grips it tight in his flesh hand, he was right handed after all, he starts to pump himself until he was finally coming, coating your body in his thick, hot come. He groans loudly and closes his eyes, feeling his chest heave slightly at feeling the release. 

A few moments of quiet past, you and Bucky were breathing heavily, your sighs haggard, wondering who would make the first move. You were having the same thoughts as him 'Fuck, what if they regret it'

You didn't. 

He didn't. 

You make the first move, moving slightly to switch the light back on, you wince slightly from the bright light and groan, rubbing your eyes. But when you opened them, you looked upon Bucky's fully naked body for the first time, and he did the same to you. You both muttered a 'fuck' 

"You're beautiful" You whisper before you can stop yourself. 

"Beautiful, huh?" Bucky says with a playful grin, it falters when he notices your lips falling into a slight frown. "Oh, you're, fuck, you're breathtaking, darling. You are, god, we've in new waters right now, aren't we?"

"We are" You say quietly as you look down at your nude body, covered in Bucky's seed. "Let's get cleaned up"

He nods and motions for to you stay put before climbing off the bed, he roots through his bag and grabs a random flannel cloth, he wipes you down first, cleaning your body carefully and slowly, as he does he looks up to your neck, smirking when he sees his little mark on your neck. 

"What are our options?" You ask, your mind moving at a million ideas a second.

"Leave it to you to worry about that" He mutters as he cleans himself. When done, he crawls back into the bed and faces you, you move so you can fully face him. 

"We can fuck, it doesn't need to mean anything" Bucky says with a shrug. 

"You're right, because that was good, like I want to do that again, good" You admit, feeling a soft blush creep onto your cheeks. 

"We'll keep doing this then... and maybe try to be friends?" He suggests, his voice laced with how uncomfortable he felt with this conversation, you felt happy knowing he felt exactly as you did. 

"I like that idea, friends who have sex it is" You say as you reach your hand out, to shake his, Bucky takes your hand firmly, before replying. "Friends who have sex"

And despite agreeing to be friends that have sex, you both know it never works that way. And as you both lie in the bed, in that disgusting motel, deep down, you knew exactly what would happen. After all, it's how every movie and book ended. And so you fell asleep with a dream of you and Bucky, lying together in your bed at home, and actually enjoying each other's company. 

"Goodnight darling" Bucky whispers into the dark room, thinking you had fallen asleep, but you were just awake enough to whisper back. "Goodnight Bucky"

Part Two

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[highdramas]

it had to be you | dr. jack abbot

pairing: jack abbot x f!attending!reader warnings: language, age gap (unspecified, but reader is late 20s/early 30s and jack is mid/late 40s), references to sex but nothing explicit, sweet sweet fluff <3 word count: 3k summary: it is the first year you're attending PTMC's annual gala as an attending. it's also your first year with a date. notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. GALA FIC GALA FIC GALA FIC <3 this is a part of the ring of fire interconnected series, but it’s not necessary to read the prior parts to understand this fic. if you would like to, though, you can find the masterlist here <3 not proofread so apologies for any errors!

“i don’t know…” you hands trail down your torso, looking at yourself and your dress in the mirror. “i think it’s too much. do you think it’s too much? is the red giving, like…” you chuckle a little bit to yourself. “i dunno, blood?”

jack rounds the corner from the en suite bathroom, leaning in the doorway with his hands in the pockets of his immaculate dress pants. pressed, tailored, and fitting his legs perfectly– you know if he turned around, you’d find that it fit his ass perfectly, too. not fair, you think to yourself. simply not fair for him to look like that.

his eyes find yours in the mirror, but not before you watch him take in the sight of you from behind. his chest rises with a big inhale, blowing it out through his mouth. “i don’t know how to say this nicely,” he takes a step closer to you. “or gentlemanly. but here goes: if someone saw you in that and their first thought is blood, they might be certifiably fucking insane.” his hands settle onto your hips and he pulls you back into him, back to front, a kiss being placed onto your shoulder. “wear it. it’s perfect.”

“i don’t want to be the gala harlot.”

the vibration of his laughter hits the spot between your shoulder blades and you practically keel over. “it’s perfect.” his hand smacks his favorite spot– your ass. “besides, i found this, and i thought i’d wear it. match you.”

you turn in his arms and he reveals a signet ring, resting on his pinky– a beautiful, flat ruby settled into it. it’s almost a perfect color match. “i didn’t want to go full prom, red tie, but this…” he shrugs his shoulders and looks at you with one perfectly arched brow. “what do you think?”

both of your hands take his and you bring his palm up to your mouth, kissing it. “it’s perfect.”

that look dawns on him. the look that tells you that he has plans that are so far away from any gala, hospital fundraiser, or anywhere in between. you point at him. “don’t.” he leans in and presses your hair back with a delicately precise motion. capable hands. god, you love his hands. “jack. we’ll be late.”

“don’t care.”

“i do,” you rub at his arms, where they encircle your waist and tug you ever-closer, until you’re practically one body instead of two. you feel like that most days, anyway.

you’ve found your rhythm. going from not-official to very-official wasn’t as jarring as you thought it might be, and definitely not as jarring for jack. it was, largely, simple. it was all of the other stuff that wasn’t simple.

it was the fact that now, when you entered work together, you got smirks from tired day crew folks. it was the fact that now, when you have one of your little spats– never disrespectful, always passionate– from across each other, trying to determine the best course of care for a patient, someone else in the room has to determine it a lovers quarrel.

when it was just the two of you, holed up in jack’s apartment after a long shift… it was quieter. you missed that, sometimes.

but jack loving you out loud is worth the stares and the remarks. because you love the way that his gaze lingers on you, freely, wherever you are. you love that he comes by and slides a granola bar into your pocket when he has watched you go nonstop for hours, barely even coming up for air. you love that he’s your boyfriend, but he’s still your attending, too. he’s still your teacher. you love when he guides you through an insane procedure that he hasn’t performed since he was overseas. you love when it works.

even when it doesn’t work. when you work side by side and for as good as you are together, for all of the lives that you save together and apart, you can’t save everyone. and when you find that familiar feeling of despair, and shame, and like maybe this isn’t what you’re built for, jack still finds your eyes. finds your heart, your fear, your anguish. and he walks through it with you. god, he’s good at walking through it with you.

you hope that he feels you’re as good to him as he is to you. it’s the only goal you’re ever trying to achieve, the one way that you want to measure up.

“this is my first time going to this thing as an attending,” you say, not without significant nerves. “now i have to talk to donors and it means something.”

“i’ll be there,” jack says easily, squeezing your arms. he kisses your shoulder again, open mouthed and hot, and it makes your head fall forward, leaning against his shoulder. “you think i’m gonna leave your side tonight, with you looking like that? i’ll be following you like a lost dog.”

a chuckle bubbles out of you and you meet his eyes through your eyelashes. he looks diabolically handsome– he kept his stubble, which you love, obviously– to the untrained eye, he looks polished. but there’s still that roguish glint to him, the thing that no amount of suits or shiny dress shoes could wipe away. “i’ll put you on a leash,” you joke.

“you could do anything you want to me, kid.”

the two of you watch each other thoughtfully. there’s no need to fill the space with words, when silence is this comfortable. it’s a byproduct of years of mentoring, knowing, loving. “you’ll really stay with me?” you ask, your insecurities scratching at your heels.

“you know i will,” he says. “i’ve gone to this thing for a million years. big donors want to know the same three things– tell me about the most impactful case you’ve worked on recently. how do you do it all. can you tell me that my money goes to those who need it. simple.” he can tell that you’re not convinced. “we could always smoke a little.”

you gape at him. “i am not smoking before work.”

“come on– you’re not intubating anyone! we’re gonna be talking with suits!” he laughs at your reaction. “alright, suit yourself. i smoke before it every year.”

within ten minutes, a roach is stubbed out in his ashtray, your lipgloss clinging to the filter.

–

“look at you two!” dana gives you and jack big hugs outside of the ballroom where the gala was taking place, squeezing you against her tightly. “you two look sharp.”

you’re feeling light from the weed, nerves settled like sand at the bottom of the ocean. you look over at jack and pick a strand of your hair off of his suit jacket. he looks at you and shrugs his shoulders. “she laid out my outfit last night,” he jokes, and it makes you groan and roll your eyes.

you shove him a bit and dana laughs. “oh, yeah? been together what, six months, already acting as mama?”

you scrunch your nose up and give her a sideways glance. “hell no.” you laugh and jack has that smug smile on his face. “he’s a big boy. he took care of himself long before i came into the picture.”

dana winks at you. “smart girl. abbot, she’s your lady, not a maid, alright? i don’t peg you as the type, but–”

“yes, ma’am.”

dana laughs. “alright. i’ll see you in there.”

you suck in a big breath. by your side, jack does the same. “are you nervous?” you ask.

“nah. my leg.” he shifts his weight slightly, and your mouth goes into a straight line, suddenly as serious as a heart attack. “don’t look at me like that, doctor. i’m good.”

“okay, but if it’s too much–”

“i know. i’ll sit down and take a break.” he rubs his hand up and down on your lower back. “we should get in there, huh?”

“you’re just trying to get me to stop being all doctor on you.”

he pats your ass one time, with no eyes to take it in. “dunno what you’re talking about.” he says it with that deadpan expression that he loves to wear, but you see the mirth in his eyes.

jack takes your hand and leads you in. the ballroom is immaculate– you’ve never seen anything so… frivolous. it’s the only word that you can think of. there’s waitstaff flitting about with trays of hors d'oeuvres, flute glasses filled with sparkling champagne.

when you look over at jack, he wears a similar, thinly veiled expression of mild disgust. you make eye contact. each of you rolls your eyes at one another, and you slide your arm through his and lean in with a smile. “we could probably give every nurse a significant raise with the money that it took to throw this,” you say under your breath.

“why do you think i need to smoke before i step foot in here,” jack responds.

he guides you towards your place setting– a big circular table, with spots for each attending physician. you gulp when you see your name plate– your name with the appropriate prefix. you pick it up and examine it with a slightly amused smile. you show it to jack who doesn’t say anything, but you can feel pride radiate off of him in little ripples in the way that he puts his hand on the back of your neck and squeezes.

the remarks are kicked off by gloria, and you take a seat. jack tugs your chair so that he can put a dangled arm, draped across the back of it, his fingers brushing your shoulder. you maintain enough self control to not put your hand on his knee. every once and awhile his index finger will trail the back of your neck, the sensitive place between your shoulder blades. you shoot him daggers. he winks.

you finally relent and put that hand on his knee of his right leg.

as you continue to sit, you watch jack shift. in that way that he does when his hip is starting to ache– and you’re tuned in to him and his needs, instantly. you squeeze his knee to get his attention while gloria continues to drone on… and on… and on. “you okay?” you mouth the two words, concern written in the way that your brows furrow.

he gives a noncommittal sound and he gestures for your purse. you fish the little orange bottle out that you always carry for him, and hand him the proper dosage for when phantom pain comes for him.

if it weren’t your partner that were experiencing it, you would find the concept of phantom pain… fascinating, medically. the brain is a powerful, sometimes too powerful, organ. but because it’s jack, and because you can see the set in his jaw and the way that he shifts again in his chair, you don’t care what the brain is capable of. all you care is that his brain stop.

he knocks the pill back and hands the bottle back to you. the slight rattle gets whitaker looking over in your direction, and you make a motion with your finger that says turn around before i make you. he complies with a quickness, and you settle once more with your hand to jack’s leg. you squeeze, gently, only half focused on the words that gloria says.

jack’s hand goes back to its favorite place: the back of your neck. it’s where you carry the majority of the tension in your body. you think jack likes being able to alleviate that, even if just for a moment. you also think he simply likes the way that your eyes roll back, the way that you’ll sometimes steady yourself with a hand that brushes his knee, or waist. you think he likes knowing that he can melt you with one touch in an instant.

now is no different. your eyes flutter shut, and when they open, jack is staring at you with a look of satisfaction that’s only brought out from making you feel good.

“you’re a dog,” you say under your breath.

“you told me you’d get a leash.”

keeping your laughter inside, gloria wraps up her remarks, and encourages everyone in the room to mingle, drink, eat, and dance. you and jack stand, hand in hand, and look at each other with an identical expression that reads, thank god. he leads you to the bar without another word.

that watchful eye stays upon him, and as you wait for your drinks– his whiskey, your martini– he rubs your back and adds, “meds are working.”

“good.”

“you don’t need to watch me like a hawk.”

this gets you to scowl. the drinks are slid in your direction and you take yours, gently clinking your glass to his. “have you ever thought,” you lean in. “maybe i just like looking at you tonight?”

you don’t know if it’s scientifically possible for an eye color to darken in a split second. but if it can, jack’s do. he knocks the contents in his cup back and holds his hand out for you. “dance with me.”

“your leg–”

“if my leg hurts from dancing with you, then so be it. well worth it.” he pauses. “what’s the murakami quote… pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.”

you’re unconvinced, but moved regardless. “you are dramatic.”

“yes i am,” jack flexes his hand. “are you really gonna turn me down in front of our peers? that’s just rude.”

you roll your eyes at him, but your smile is wide and it’s bright and it’s the smile that you get on your face because of jack, and jack alone. you set your drink to the side and take jack’s hand and let him lead you to the dance floor.

people know that you and jack are together, yes, but it’s rare they see you so free with your affection. javadi’s eyes are as big as saucers as the two of you pass by her and mateo. you wink. your arms and hands settle into place: jack’s on your waist. your arms dangled on his shoulders.

it had to be you plays over the speaker system as the two of you take the floor– the harry connick jr. version, the one in when harry met sally. a little bit more flirtatious than the original, the two of you sway in time.

“remember when we watched this movie? way early on?” you reminisce with a big smile on your face.

“oh, i remember. the scene in the diner… you blushed when that came on,” he snickers and his hands tighten on your body. “i don’t think we’d even kissed yet.”

“i didn’t know if you were…” you shrug your shoulders. “i dunno. i think, at that point, i still kind of thought it was all just up in my head. yeah, it’s one thing to smoke weed and watch a movie with your mentor. it’s another to want to have sex with him.” you peer up at him through your lashes. “and i wanted to do all three.”

“ah, kid, you always were an overachiever.”

you laugh, leaning forward. his hand comes up to cup the back of your head as you rest your cheek against his chest, eyes closing, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. his hand slips under your hair and continues to rub at your neck. you sigh. it feels like everything is at right in the world.

“you know,” he starts, his cheek resting on the top of your head. “i could do this forever.”

“dance?”

he chuckles. “no.” your head lifts up and you’re face to face. he takes your hand, puts it on the spot where you just listened to his heart. “just… this.”

the gravity of his words click into place. “oh.”

“yeah.”

there’s a gentleness to his eyes and his words. almost vulnerable– but trusting, too. “i could too,” you affirm without another thought required. you lean forward, your lips at his ear. “as long as you’ll have me, dr. abbot.”

if there was any distance left between the two of you, jack abandons it, pulling you in. he presses a kiss against your cheek.

as he does, a throat clears. you both look over, slightly misty-eyed and fully in love, to see gloria with a pleasantly manufactured smile plastered across her face. “oh, you two. adorable.” she looks at her watch. “patricia miller is here. just lost of her husband. big donor– big romantic, too. i would like you two to get to talking with her before she leaves. don’t forget to share you’re together. that’ll do wonders on her.” she tilts her head to the side. “enjoy your evening. don’t forget to take home a goodie bag.”

gloria saunters off. you look over to jack.

the two of you laugh, loudly, drawing eyes in your direction. robby and collins share a glance, trying to figure out what on earth could possibly be so funny. whitaker checks his shirt to make sure he doesn’t have a stain.

“man,” jack says. “duty calls, right?”

“guess so.” you run your hand up the back of jack’s head, through his silver curls. you feel him shiver as you rake your nails down. there’s a moment where you hesitate, but you don’t find yourself in the business of holding back where jack is concerned, so you say it anyway: “what are they gonna do when there’s two dr. abbot’s? they might combust from donation possibility. nothing sells like a love story.”

jack’s eyes flash. if before wasn’t enough… you think this might just be the confirmation he needs. he doesn’t say anything at first. he leans and he kisses you, taking you somewhere far, far away from this ballroom. “i think i’ll be the one combusting first.”

[yukioos]

katsuki bakugo and the double standard

you, mina, and kyoka were talking in your bedroom before the two of you invited denki and eijiro over. you and the girls made matching bracelets together, incorporating each other's eye colors into them, with your first initial in the middle. as all of you laughed together and talked about drama, then a show that was creating a new season, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of emptiness.

the only one that was missing was your boyfriend, katsuki.

you sighed as you stared at the red beads, rolling one in between your fingers, reminding you of the color of his crimson eyes. you spaced out, mind focused on your boyfriend, and you didn’t even realize what the topic of the conversation shifted to until denki tapped your shoulder.

“hey, are you okay? i think you zoned out.”

mina smirked, “i know. she’s thinking of bakugo! you love him so much, don’t you?” she bumped your shoulder with hers and smiled at you with her eyes squinted.

you rolled your eyes and shyly smiled, averting your eyes. eijiro then brought up with a grin, “hey, you know how bakugo always seems so angry around us but not around you?” he stared at you, but you grinned, unaware of what was to happen, “we were thinking of testing that theory out. i’ll ask him if he can get me something from the record shop near campus, we’ll see how he reacts, then you can ask him to get you something from that cafe nearby!”

sounded good to you! maybe it would be funny to see his reaction change from eijiro’s request to yours.

you nodded, and the whole group cheered. the redhead then took out his phone and you all huddled around him, curious as to what was to happen. he called katsuki four times before the blonde finally picked up.

katsuki sighed, “what.” eijiro frowned with his eyes widened, and looked around at all of you. you tried to stifle your giggles at his reaction by covering your mouth.

eijiro asked, “hey man, do you mind getting me some stuff from the record shop nearby? i already ordered everything, you’d just need to pick it up—“

“no! get off your ass and get it yourself!” he yelled, causing his best friend to nearly drop the device in shock. katsuki then hung up.

all of the group was silent for a couple of seconds before you all burst into laughter. denki was tearing up and mina could hardly breathe even as she held onto her stomach for dear life.

about half an hour later, you decided to call katsuki, and he picked up within a few seconds. eijiro’s jaw dropped. he was astonished by how much he had to wait for a response, but how quickly his best friend answered you, his girl.

“hey,” katsuki greeted. he sounded not displeased nor pleased, so you were confused. little did you know, he paused everything just to lay on his bed and listen to your voice.

“hey kats! could you get me some sweets from the cafe i like? please?”

he paused, “fine. do you want the usual?” he tried to sound irritated but failed miserably.

you giggled and nodded, forgetting he couldn’t hear you. you replied, “yes, please, kats! thank you!”

he mumbled, “shut up,” and blushed. ruffling sounds were audible from his side of the call, and you could tell he was standing up from his bed to walk out of his dorm.

you exclaimed, “when you have all the sweets, come to my dorm! love you, blondie!”

he softly mumbled it back to the point where it was nearly inaudible, and you were the only one who could hear it. after half an hour passed, a knock was heard on your door, and the chatter stopped. you hurriedly rushed to open the door with a smile on your face.

the blonde carried a large bag with multiple containers of sweets, even some that you didn’t recognize. he bought you extras? god, he was all you could ever ask for. the perfect man.

“oh, yay! you’re the best, kats!” you propped your hands on his wide shoulders and kissed his cheek, earning a smile from him.

when you invited your boyfriend in and he saw the group you were hanging out with, denki gasped, “hey! why did you get her stuff but not—”

“shut up!” katsuki immediately retorted, not letting him finish.

he took your favorite cake out of the bag and handed it to you, along with a fork and a napkin. you squealed, jumped, and spun around in a circle. you pulled him down to sit with you on the ground, in the circle with your friends.

as you ate the cake, you scooted closer to your boyfriend. suddenly, you heard stifled, deep chuckles from someone next to you. you tilted your head at katsuki, whose eyes were finally squinted due to giving you a real smile.

he brought his finger up to your cheek and wiped something off your cheek, supposedly frosting.

kyoko quickly reacted, “never would’ve expected you to be the sap, bakugo.”

katsuki grumbled again and rolled his eyes, “shut up—“

“you’ve said that like, four times already.” eijiro replied, wanting to frustrate his best friend more.

katsuki continued to mutter curses under his breath, and the conversation continued without the both of you two. you smiled at his rather hard expression, then suddenly rubbed his bicep with your hand. his eyes turned towards yours, and as soon as they did, you were about to kiss his cheek, when he turned his head at the right time so you would finally kiss him on the lips.

you giggled. since when was katsuki so proud of being so flirty in public? you knew he didn’t care much for physical touch in front of others, so you were fairly confused. however, you weren’t complaining.

“aww, you just love your girl so much, don’t you?” eijiro ruined the moment.

“yeah, i do, so shut the hell up!”

not proofread, hope u guys like this one!

[gyumazing]

"Wanna See?"

Basically, it was your finals week. Riki came over acting all upset because you were 'ignoring' him.

A/N: wrote this for less than an hour (hence the reason why it is a bit tacky) because I was bored and I am having post exam anxiety. This was very fun to write (I got second hand embarrassment while writing lmao).

Pairings: Nishimura Riki × Reader

Genre: Fluff × Suggestive

TW: Mentions of male genital. Low-key cat and dog dynamics.

“Bruh! Come here! Stop acting like a mysterious hermit.” you said, dragging your sulking boyfriend into the frame of your iPad's front camera.

It was a regular Tuesday night before your last finals exam, and your clingy-ass boyfriend decided to pop up unannounced in the dead of night under the guise of bringing you dinner. In reality? He just missed you and needed attention. Study session? Absolutely wrecked by whiny Riki in his signature black cargo pants and navy green hoodie.

“Why did you even come over if you're gonna act like a bish.” You rolled your eyes at him as he continued to refuse a selfie, his ever-deepening frown matching your own. You even tried sneakily inching your iPad toward him, but this man dodged like his life depended on it—like that 12MP lens was a sniper scope.

Then he yanked you by the waist and buried his face into your neck. You're not sure if it was a tactic to hide his face or if he was just being extra clingy, but either way—it was annoying. You shoved his face away.

“What’s your problem?!” he whined, his brows still furrowed like a grumpy cat.

You squinted. “No. What is your problem?!” you shot back, swatting his hands away. “I was peacefully studying and then you waltzed in, started acting like a toddler, and now I can't even take one cute pic of us?!” you hissed, teeth clenched.

In true demon form, Ni-ki bit your neck mid-sentence, earning a sharp curse mixed with his name.

“No. What is your problem?!” he repeated, this time with trembling lips and a suspiciously emotional tone. “I’ll be on tour for three months, and you didn’t even bother messaging or calling me!” His voice cracked. “If I didn’t come over tonight, I bet you wouldn’t even care even if I got eaten by wolves!”

You groaned like it was your final breath.

“And now you suddenly want to take a cute picture like you didn’t ghost me all week and act like I was some delivery guy when I arrived!” he huffed, biting your neck again.

“STOP THAT!” you shrieked and pushed his face off like you were warding off a vampire.

“I was going to visit you after my exams!” you snapped, mirroring his dramatic energy.

He hugged your waist tighter, now clinging like a koala.

“But that’s just one day before I leave! That’s not enough! Not freaking enough!” he argued like a pouty kid denied candy. “And where’s my kiss, huh? You didn’t even look at me when I walked in!”

At this point, you weren’t sure if you were dating a guy or babysitting a 6-foot-tall, sentient tantrum. You glared at him.

“I was reviewing, you dumbass!” you growled, grabbing his chin forcefully to face the camera. He grumbled out a protest, but before he could escape again, you smashed your lips onto his and furiously pressed the shutter button.

His gasp of surprise gave you the perfect opening to slip your tongue in. Just for science, of course. The pathetic little whimper he let out in response almost made you short-circuit. He gripped the back of your head, tilted slightly, and tried to suck your soul out like his life depended on it.

You pulled back after a few seconds, breathless and wide-eyed.

And there he was—Nishimura Riki, the cool boy with maximum aura (his words, not yours), tomato red and staring at the wall like it held the answers to the universe. He avoided your gaze and opened his mouth slightly like he was gonna say something profound... then he dragged you into his lap and hid his face in your neck again.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Bro, what the hell?”

He looked up, dead serious.

“I am not your bro.” And just like that, he faceplanted into your neck again. "Say that again I'm gonna smack you." He threatens.

You were about to roast him, about to suggest calling him 'sis' instead, but then—you felt it.

Your eyes went wide. You froze.

You suddenly felt something... poking you from below.

Now you were the one frozen, eyes wide in absolute horror.

You sat stiffly on his lap for a few seconds, every neuron in your brain screaming at once.

To confirm your worst suspicion, you discreetly shifted your hips—just the tiniest bit. But the moment you did—

“Hnghh…”

Riki moaned.

His hands gripped your waist tighter, and it felt like your entire soul just jumped out of your body and hit a backflip midair.

You panicked. Hard.

"What are you doing, baby?" he asked, dazed, his voice breathy and sinful and entirely too casual for what was happening.

You panicked even harder.

"Bro, your dick is poking me!" you blurted out with a nervous chuckle, trying—failing—to downplay the absolute meltdown happening inside your brain.

You and Ni-ki had been together for years. You’ve done a lot of questionable stuff—made out in cars, in hallways, even in the middle of a study session—but this? This was new. This was dangerous territory.

Ni-ki, now redder than a stop sign, didn’t look away. His eyes were glued to yours.

"That’s your fault…" he muttered with a dramatic little whine.

You slowly grabbed his wrists and tried to peel his hands off you so you could escape this abomination of a moment—

But the universe said no.

Riki held you back firmly, unintentionally pressing you down back against the very thing you were trying to flee from. And for the love of God, the sound you just squeaked was enough to make your souls burn in the pits of hell.

It sounded so womanly: It sounded nothing like you've ever sounded before.

Mortified, you shoved Riki back onto the couch like you were performing an exorcism and scrambled away, flailing like a fish out of holy water.

You made the sign of the cross with your arms, eyes wide like you’d seen Satan himself.

Riki blinked at you, clearly confused—then he started laughing.

“Devil be gone!” you screamed at him, still backing away like he had the plague.

“What?” he laughed through his red face. “It’s a normal bodily reaction, love. Don’t worry about it too much.” He tried to reassure you with flushed cheeks and zero shame.

You scooted farther like he had uncured demonic possession. “Get that ginormous thing away from me!” you yelped.

Ni-ki smirked, clearly entertained. But thankfully, he respected your space and stayed where he was.

“Ginormous?” he repeated, the grin on his face slowly evolving into the grin of a man whose ego just grew five sizes.

You nodded frantically. Big mistake.

His grin got even wider. "It's a perfectly manageable size, baby. Wanna see?"

“NOPE!” You squealed, hands flapping as you turned tail and ran straight to your room, slamming the door and locking it like you were under siege.

“Darn you, Nishimura Riki!” you shouted from behind the door, face buried in your pillow in defeat.

And from the other side, his smug little voice:

“You said ginormous.”

____

I luv him sm hehehe

[norristrii]

HELP APPRECIATED.

Your brother Lando has a knack for teasing you, especially when it comes to padel matches. But when his friend, Max, steps in to support you and help turn the tables, the dynamic shifts—giving you the perfect chance to prove Lando wrong.

pairing. Max Verstappen x Norris! fem! reader.

warnings. annoying older brother Lando (again, but we love).

For my newfound friend @haniette 🫶🏻 love you girlie!!

LANDO KNEW—oh, he absolutely knew—how much you loathed going with him to play padel. It wasn’t the sport itself; you actually enjoyed it when it was with your girls, the laughter and camaraderie making it fun. But with Lando? In front of his friends? That was an entirely different story. He thrived on teasing you, poking fun in ways only an older brother could. It was borderline humiliating, but somehow you always got roped into it.

And now, here you were. The padel court was alive with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the thwack of balls hitting the racket. Max and George were there too, their easy banter filling the air while Lando shot you an all-too-smug grin. The question lingered in your mind: Why did I agree to this? It wasn’t money—that was for sure. It wasn’t sibling love either; let’s be real, Lando’s idea of sibling love involved making you his personal entertainment.

No, you were here for one simple reason—you wanted him to shut up. You wanted him to stop his nagging, his comments, his relentless pestering about coming to play “just once.” And if enduring an hour of him flaunting his supposed skills in front of his friends was the price to pay for peace, well… so be it.

Teamed up with George, you quickly realized he had drawn the short straw. Lando was relentless, targeting you with every shot as if the game were a personal vendetta. The ball zipped toward you time and again, leaving you scrambling to keep up. It wasn’t just padel at this point—it was a one-sided showdown, and Lando was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Come on, Y/n!” Lando teased after yet another missed return, his grin so smug it was almost criminal. George shot you a sympathetic look, muttering something about how impossible it was to defend against Lando when he was this focused on being a menace.

The score kept climbing, and not in your favor. You were losing—rapidly and spectacularly. But through all the chaos, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. It was frustrating, yes, but it was also so Lando. His ability to turn even a friendly padel game into his personal theater of mischief was almost admirable.

“Is this payback for something?” you called out, trying to match his banter despite the sweat forming on your brow.

“Maybe,” Lando replied with a smirk, effortlessly returning another shot. “Or maybe I just like seeing you try.”

Poor George, indeed. He deserved a medal for putting up with this, and you were going to owe him a drink after this for sure.

Max waved his racket dramatically, his exasperation clear as he took in the situation. “What about changing teams?” he suggested, his tone laced with playful disbelief. It was obvious he’d noticed your struggle, and maybe—just maybe—he was trying to save you.

You sighed, tossing a glance at George, who was already chuckling. “Yeah, George deserves to win at least once,” you replied, the humor in your voice lightening the moment.

But then Max chimed in again, his suggestion catching you off guard. “I’ll be with Y/n,” he said confidently, and you froze. The words echoed in your head, and you felt your cheeks heat up almost instantly. Because, truth be told, you’d always had a little thing for Max—a crush that had lingered quietly for longer than you cared to admit.

And, of course, Lando noticed. He always noticed. He had that infuriating ability to see right through you, to catch on to even the smallest hints of vulnerability or emotion you tried to keep hidden. You didn’t even have to look to know he’d clocked your reaction, storing it away as ammunition for later. This was just another golden reason for him to tease you mercilessly once you got home.

Max stood beside you, his presence impossibly magnetic as he shot you one of those grins—charming, effortless, the kind that made your knees weak. You could feel your heart race, the flutter of nerves threatening to pull your focus entirely away from the game. Across the court, Lando watched with an expression that screamed l know exactly what’s going on here. His knowing look was equal parts teasing and mischievous, and you knew you’d never hear the end of it later.

Max began explaining tactics, his voice confident yet patient as he gestured with his racket, pointing out positions and strategies. His energy was focused, but yours… yours was entirely elsewhere. You were too busy taking him in—the way his eyes lit up as he spoke, the way his enthusiasm made him so impossibly endearing. You nodded along, pretending to absorb his words, but in truth, they barely registered. You were a little too captivated, lost in the sheer of him.

The game ahead didn’t matter. In that moment, it was just you, Max, and the chaotic, undeniable realization that maybe your crush wasn’t as inconspicuous as you’d hoped. And judging by Lando’s smirk across the court, he wasn’t missing a single second of the drama unfolding. Oh, he was going to milk this for all it was worth.

Suddenly, your game took a dramatic turn for the better. The shots you missed before were now connecting effortlessly, and your energy seemed to shift entirely. You couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason—was it the fact that Max was next to you, his presence calming and motivating all at once? Was it the way he encouraged you with subtle tips and grins that felt like small victories? Or maybe it was pure determination, driven by the desire to show off, to prove that you weren’t just here to flounder under Lando’s relentless teasing.

Or, let’s be honest—it could have just been the burning need to get through the game and finally go home.

Whatever it was, you felt the momentum change as each shot landed, Max offering the occasional “Nice one!” or “That’s the way!” with a grin that sent your heart fluttering. Even Lando seemed taken aback for a moment, his teasing replaced with a slightly furrowed brow as he realized you weren’t giving him the easy victory he’d hoped for.

“Wow, Y/n, what’s gotten into you?” Lando asked, his voice laced with breathless disbelief as he wiped the sweat from his brow, clearly struggling to keep up with your sudden surge of skill.

You barely spared him a glance, shrugging with an air of nonchalance. “Luck,” you replied, pausing briefly before adding, “or help,” and shot a quick smile at Max, who chuckled beside you. The subtle compliment didn’t go unnoticed, and judging by Lando’s narrowed eyes, it fueled his competitive streak even further.

Gripping your racket, you adjusted your stance, ready for the next hit. The game wasn’t over yet, but you were more than prepared to show Lando—and maybe Max too—that you weren’t backing down anytime soon.

The final hit landed perfectly, sealing the win for you and Max. The cheers erupted, and before you could fully process what had just happened, Max was rushing toward you, his face lit up with excitement.

“Yes, Y/n!” he shouted, his voice filled with unrestrained joy. Before you knew it, his arms were around you, pulling you into a tight hug. The next thing you felt was your feet leaving the ground as he lifted you slightly, his laughter mixing with yours. “You did it,” he said, his grin so wide and genuine that it made your heart skip a beat.

From the sidelines, Lando rolled his eyes dramatically, but the small, amused smirk playing on his lips betrayed him. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he called out, but the teasing couldn’t dampen the electric moment between you and Max. Winning had never felt quite this good.

“I fear that’s it for today,” you said with a playful smile, slinging your racket over your shoulder. Lando groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes before striding off the court, muttering something under his breath about needing a rematch. Classic Lando.

But you and Max lingered, the energy between you softening as the adrenaline of the game faded. The two of you stood there, just looking at each other, smiles tugging at your lips. “Thank you for the help,” you said, your voice carrying a warmth that matched your grin.

As you turned to leave, Max moved closer, draping his arm around your shoulders with an easy confidence that sent your pulse racing. Flirting? Oh, there was no mistaking it—he was absolutely flirting. And you couldn’t help but let it happen, your stomach doing little flips as he leaned in slightly.

“What about us going to play padel alone some next time?” he asked, his voice low and inviting, a hint of mischief in his tone.

You blinked, caught off guard for only a moment before a smile broke across your face. Alone? Just the two of you? Suddenly, padel seemed a lot more appealing. This was going to be interesting.

“Yeah, but I still suck at this stupid sport—or whatever it even is,” you said with a laugh, shaking your head in mock defeat.

Max grinned, his confidence unwavering. “Don’t care,” he replied, his tone light but determined. “I’ll teach you.”

The way he said it, so effortlessly sure, made your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way he looked at you, like he genuinely believed you could conquer the court with him by your side. Maybe padel wasn’t so bad after all. Or maybe it was just Max making it feel that way.

“Stop flirting!” Lando’s voice rang out dramatically as he turned around, his tone halfway between annoyance and entertainment.

Max didn’t even flinch, rolling his eyes as if this was just another typical Lando moment. “He should shut up sometimes,” Max muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with exasperation.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the moment too absurd not to enjoy. “That would be really nice,” you replied, shooting Max a grin.

Even as Lando stomped away, likely plotting his next round of teasing, you felt that lightness in the air—the perfect blend of chaos, camaraderie, and just a hint of something more. With Max beside you, you could tell this was going to be far more interesting than any game of padel.

As you walked towards Lando’s tiny Fiat Jolly, parked with its quirky charm, you spotted him waiting with an expression that screamed "disappointed dad." Arms crossed, brows furrowed—it was as if he were channeling every ounce of parental annoyance into that one look. You couldn’t help but smirk; his dramatic flair never failed to amuse.

Max caught up with you just before you reached the car, pulling you into a warm hug that sent a flutter through your chest. His lips brushed softly against your cheek, a barely-there sensation that lingered far longer than it should have. You could feel the heat creeping up your face, and in the corner of your eye, you saw Lando rolling his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of his head.

“See you later, Y/n,” Max said, his voice low and smooth, the kind of tone that made promises out of simple goodbyes.

You smiled, your voice carrying a hint of something more. “I’m really looking forward, Max.”

Sliding into your seat next to Lando, you barely had time to get settled before he shot you one of his trademark smirks, already loaded with teasing. The Fiat buzzed to life, its tiny engine rumbling as the city lights blurred into motion. You braced yourself, knowing full well that Lando’s commentary would start as soon as you hit the first corner. And yet, a small smile tugged at your lips—you wouldn’t trade this chaos for anything.

Lando’s voice cut through the hum of the car engine, his tone dry and pointed. “Did you enjoy flirting with my friend?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, not even sparing you a glance.

You shrugged, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Actually, yeah,” you replied casually, the humor in your voice unmistakable. “I’m sorry your love life is shit,” you added with a laugh, knowing full well the rumors swirling around him were as entertaining as they were ridiculous.

“Haha,” Lando mocked your laugh, his sarcasm sharp but not unexpected. You could tell he was gearing up for a comeback, but your attention shifted as your phone buzzed in your lap. Glancing down, you saw Max’s name light up the screen.

can hear him complaining even from here. i’m excited to see you again ;)

© norristrii 2025

[bi-writes]

Simon short circuiting when his mail order bride does something kind for him :)) uses her new credit card to buy him his favorite tea and cat treats for bonding with his new baby <3

mail-order bride

simon lets out a deep breath as he slips his boots off. he pulls his tact vest over his head, dropping it beside his shoes before rolling out his neck. he's exhausted. he's been awake for 36 hours at least, and not even a few hours ago, he had been camped out on a rooftop with nothing but his sniper rifle for company.

you pad into the living room, dressed in cute cherry-printed pajamas. little shorts with a matching short-sleeve top, and you smile shyly when you see him standing by the door. your eyes wander a little; you've never seen him with his gear on, and he's surprised you're not more startled by the skull mask he's wearing.

his head darts to the side when he sees the cat hopping along the shelves on the wall. the cat launches itself off the closest shelf, landing on the back of his shoulders and nuzzling along the back of his head before dropping onto the floor to weave between his legs.

"welcome home," you say softly, coming closer, and simon just nods. you reach up when you get closer, slipping your hands under his hoodie to find the hem of his mask. you pull it up gently over his head, smiling a little wider when you reveal his face underneath. he has eye-black smudged around his eyes, but otherwise, your husband looks his normal self, aside from the dark circles under his eyes.

you understand immediately that simon isn't in a good mood. he's irritated, tired, sour-faced and agitated. you smooth your hands down his chest before kneeling on the carpet. simon blinks, confused, but then he watches as you start to unbuckle the holsters around his thighs. you get him undressed enough that he's just wearing his jeans and his hoodie, and he takes your hand gently to help you stand back up. you hook your pinkie around his, guiding him to take a seat on the couch before you disappear into the kitchen.

simon leans his head back against the couch, shutting his eyes gently. to come home to a warm place, one filled with another person, it's frighteningly comforting. he has always come home to the dark. to the heater off and all the rooms empty. to silence and his own terrifying thoughts.

"simon?"

he opens his eyes and sits up a little, blinking the sleep away as you come closer. he hums when he sees you holding a mug, walking slow as you try and keep it steady. you hand him the mug, watching as he takes a slow sip of it.

he shuts his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. it's perfect. he's never told you how he prefers his tea, but it's got just a splash of milk and nothing more. the thoughtfulness warms him more than the drink does, and he curls his toes a little as he tries not to think about it too hard.

"oh!" you smile. "i-i...i filled your car up, and i-i got you something when i went to get a water."

you scurry towards your purse by the door, rummaging through it before you pull out a little crinkled paper bag. you sit next to him on the couch and hand it to him after he sets his tea down on the coffee table.

he reaches into the bag and wraps his hand around a little plastic trinket, pulling it out. he blinks, hooking a gloved finger through the little keychain he's holding. he holds it up, face neutral, but after a few moments, a low chuckle leaves him.

it's a little skeleton, and the bones of it wiggle and dance when he shakes it.

"i...i thought of you when i saw it," you laugh a little, and he watches as the cat hops up onto your lap, moving over your legs to sniff at the little skeleton simon is holding up. after a few moments, the cat reaches up with a paw and smacks the skeleton, watching it shake and wiggle before smacking it again.

"yeah?" simon murmurs, meeting your eyes. "you miss me?"

"y-yes...yeah. w-we missed you."

[espresso1patronum]

More boxer!gojo, pretty please 🙏 😊 such perfection

aha ofcourse my love, tysm<3 boxer!gojo is such a whore🤭 ⁠✧part one

boxer!gojo who fights dirty outside the ring, too. he’s got a match in an hour, but instead of warming up, he’s got you pressed against the lockers again, one hand gripping your jaw, the other shoving his shorts down just enough to free his cock.

"c’mon, baby," he murmurs, nudging your lips apart with his thumb. "help me relax a little."

boxer!gojo who fucks your mouth like he owns it. he starts slow, dragging his length over your tongue, watching the way your eyes flutter shut. "that’s it, just like that—always so good for me, huh?" but the patience never lasts. he grips your hair, pulling you down onto him, groaning when you gag.

"shit, sweetheart," he laughs breathlessly. "you tryin’ to knock me out before the fight?" his abs flex every time you swallow around him, hips twitching, trying not to lose control.

boxer!gojo who loves watching you struggle. your nails dig into his thighs, your throat burning, but he just strokes your cheek, all faux sympathy. "aw, poor thing—gettin’ all messy for me." he wipes a tear from the corner of your eye, then fucks your mouth even deeper.

"don’t tap out on me now, baby. you can take it."

boxer!gojo who makes you cum before he even fucks you. his hands are rough from years of fighting, and he knows exactly how to use them. two fingers, deep and slow, his palm grinding against your clit. "keep suckin’ if you wanna cum."

your legs shake, but he doesn’t stop until you’re gasping, thighs squeezing around his hand.

boxer!gojo who bends you over the training bench right after. his cock is still slick with your spit when he slides into you, slow at first, just to feel you stretch around him. "fuck, baby," he groans, head falling back. "you’re squeezin’ me so tight—missed this, huh?"

he fucks you hard enough to make the bench creak, hands gripping your hips, eyes locked on where you take him. "wish you could see yourself right now," he mutters. "takin’ me so good, like you were made for this."

boxer!gojo who cums deep, then makes you clean him up. "open up, sweetheart." he taps his cock against your lips, grinning when you obey. he groans, watching you swallow every drop, then kisses you, slow and filthy. "you’re my favorite pre-fight routine, y’know that?"

…and then he wins his match, and when the cameras catch him licking his lips, smirking like he just got the best fucking prize of his life—only you know exactly why.

[myricall]

Bllk boyfriend headcanons<3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Boyfriend! Isagi who would never miss out the chance of giving you one of his jersey's to wear. He would never admit it but the way he felt seeing his name on your back, his number. Truly made him feel like you were his (ofc you always saw the he blushed when you wore them tho<3)

...

"Yoichi..? Are you okay?" you smile softly whilst laying on your stomach on his bed. He'd make sure to always have time every day to hang out.

Your boyfriend stood there in the doorway in some sort of gaze. God he loved the way his name was splayed out across your back.

His cheeks heated up.

"y-yeah.. Just thinking about something" he mumbled back, shutting the door behind him.

"why don't you come think about it on the bed with me?"

He couldn't resist you...

>>>>>

Boyfriend! Bachira that constantly peppers your face with kisses and cannot keep his hands off of you! You're sitting alone on his bed? Cuddles! Walking with him? You bet he's holding your hand. Just be prepared to be bombarded with physical touch.

... 

"Meg- that tickles" your sweet voice cuts through, trying to hide your neck as Bachira covers your shoulders with quick little kisses.

How could he resist!

You wore that strappy top that revealed your perfect skin. You tasted so sweet he could just eat you up for the rest of his life.

"just a few more!- peck, missed you today"

"-we only haven't seen each other for a few hours!"

"I know- too long. Now stay still"

>>>>>

Boyfriend! Rin that acts nonchalant when out in public but acts all soft when just with you. He may not act like it all the time but trust when I say this man is head over heels for you and he'll definitely show it when jealous... He makes sure to let everyone know you're his after<3

... 

Today was one of the rare days that Rin was free from all the training that he did.

"Rin! Isn't this shirt so cute?" You pulled out another shirt from the rack, showing it to your boyfriend who already had a handful of bags stacking up on his arms.

"Don't you already have one like that?" He muttered, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you.

"you just don't get it" huffing as you check out the shirt more.

Rin sighed, looking around the store before his eyes caught onto something. More like.. Someone.

Was that employee looking at you?

Eurgh. Not on his watch.

At an instant, he linked your arm with his, taking the shirt from your hands.

"We're going"

"But the shirt-"

"We'll buy it- let's go"

You left the store with a new shirt and a much more clingy Rin on your hands.

>>>>>

Boyfriend! Nagi who acts needy and helpless whenever you are near him. Everything suddenly becomes a hassle that requires your help. He swears that without you sitting in his lap, he'd lose at every single videogame.

... 

"Just one more game pretty" Nagi held you tighter in his grip making sure you were secure.

"You said that last match.. And the one before that.."

"Yeah but I'm on a win streak.. Please, you're my good luck charm" he huffed, keeping you in place as his thumbs tapped on his phone.

You shuffled in his lap, figuring you should at least get comfortable. You're gonna be here for a while...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~work of @myricall (help i need more ideas </3)

[enhard]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚ ✩

sim jaeyun — “use me” (MDNI)

(wrote this just thinking how jake has pretty veiny hands to match his big veiny cock ♡︎)

pairing: bf!s.jy x fem!reader

: you’re pissed at your boyfriend for ignoring you but luckily he knows the best way to help you calm down… using his fingers of course ! but that’s not all

cw: smut, fingering, hand kink, size kink, riding, cockwarming, creampie, squirting, lots of stretching out, pet names, praising, fucking while on call with others, jake is just packing ughh </33

You love your boyfriend, obviously, but you started hating how he spent more time playing with his friends rather than hanging out with you.

Every time he had free time you’d ask him to sleep over at his and he accepted whenever you would ask. However… he would spend his time clicking away at his computer screen, his pretty fingers moving along the keyboard keys.

You’d sit with your arms resting on your knees, curdled up on his bed watching him.

“Hurry through here so we can corner these guys.. come on, faster, faster!” he says, speaking to Heeseung, Jungwon and Sunghoon through his headset. He’s been playing with them for hours now, and you just spend your time listening to him. The blue light from the screen emits onto his glasses, spreading on his whole face.

You scrolled your phone for a bit, but how much more could you scroll really? You desperately needed his attention, you missed his sweet words and his touch.

Without wanting to disturb him, you walk behind his gaming chair, wrapping your arms around his abdomen. He had to watch how he reacted cause the others could hear his every movement. “Oh..hey my love, what’s up?” he says, still focused on the screen. Your mood changes again, seeing how uninterested he is, not even bothering to look at you. You quickly take your hands off him and back off, that move making him look back at you for a split second.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, shooting another enemy.

“Forget it, i’m going home.” you say, the want to stay getting lesser and lesser.

“Wait.. what? what do you mean..?” he says, immediately grabbing his headset to take it off his head. He leaves the keyboard in the middle of the online game, faint sounds of the guys’ screams coming from the headphones.

“I wanna go home.” you look down.

“I’m sorry my love… I was totally ignoring you. I didn’t realise. I’ll leave the game right now.” he gently grabs your hands, looking up at you like a guilty puppy.

You stop him. “I’m just mad at you. How can you invite me over then just.. ignore me like that??” you snap.

He looks down again. “I’m acting so stupid. I’m sorry.. is there any way I can make it up to you?”

As he’s massaging your fingers with his, you look down, noticing the way his joints move. The amount of small veins he has in his hand and how easily you can trace them with your touch. You stare at his slender fingers, his perfect trimmed nails… just getting an idea.

“Jake..” you whisper, pulling him into a soft kiss. As you lean in, he grabs onto one side of your jaw, pulling you closer to him. You almost sit on his lap, before he stands up to make you walk back to his bed. You both make out for a bit, barely getting enough of each other’s lips.

He lays you on his bed, getting on top of you to continue kissing you. It’s just like he knows what you want to forgive him. “Let me make you happy… what do you think?” he smiles softly. You just nod, looking up at him with desperate but determined eyes.

His fingers slyly cross your neck, down your collarbone and down your shirt. He uses one hand to massage your whole chest through your large shirt. He slowly touches you all over, before stopping at your hips, where the shirt ends. he moves his fingers up your shirt, on your abdomen, finally sliding it off you from above your head. Your breasts now fully in his view, he smiles upon looking at them.

“You’re so damn perfect. I love you so much.” he says. his fingers cage your tits with a squeeze, trying to make the best of it with how much time he has until his members realise he’s gone.

“I love you too baby.” you say back shyly, biting your lip after watching his veiny hands touch you all over. His fingers are genuinely perfect, the way his hands are so soft on your plush skin, pretty pink knuckles and hands just a little cold to make you shiver.

He finally moves down to your pants, sliding them off in one move, making you spread your legs a bit so he can take them off. You’re just left in your underwear now, already soaked. You’re waiting for his slender fingers to welcome your pussy with a touch, but he has other plans. Instead, he picks you up in his embrace, legs wrapped around his waist. Your wet underwear leaves an embarrassing stain on his plain white shirt but he doesn’t mind.

He buries his head into your neck while he walks back to the desk. “You’re so wet for me, love.” He says satisfied. “Now you better stay quiet, the mic is on you and… you don’t want them to hear you, do you?” you look at him a bit scared of the situation, but you shake your head. “Good girl, stay quiet for me then.” he reassures.

Jake sits back down on the chair, making you sit on his lap, facing him. He places the mic of the headset right close to you telling the guys that he’s finally back. He puts the headset on one of your ears, letting you hear him aswell with the other. Now his friends are just talking about random things while you hear them with one ear, and your boyfriend’s voice in the other. You stay completely quiet but he makes a move, leaning in to your face to tell his members that he’s going to be away from his keyboard for a bit again.

After he says that, he leans back into his chair and immediately rips your underwear off. He makes a big hole in them not even bothering to take them off. Jake shyly touches your sensitive clit with the bud of his thumb, tracing small circles around it. He looks at what he’s doing the entire time, admiring how wet you could’ve gotten for him in this time.

He pulls his fingers away to shove them in your mouth, making you lick and suck on his fingers for a minute or so. The fingers get coated in your saliva, and he pulls them out to continue touching your clit. You succeed staying quiet, grabbing his shoulders with both your hands. He picks up his pace, beginning to squeeze the sensible skin, pinching it and dragging it with his fingers. “So good.” He whispers. You close your mouth shut, trying your hardest not to make a sound, the guys’ voices echoing through your head.

After he’s done abusing your clit, he moves down to your folds, touching all over them with his wet fingers. He stops at your desperate hole, slowly pushing one finger inside. You close your eyes, your lips parting at the sudden feeling. Your body jerks up automatically as you let out a heavy breath.

As your eyelids connect, they crush two sweet tears in between them.

Jake reaches for the mic, holding it in his palm so the sound muffles. “I barely shoved my finger inside, princess. Stay still.” He says, moving his fingers slowly in and out of you. Your juices run down his knuckles as you sit there on his lap shamefully. You grab onto his shoulder blades, trying your best to stay quiet.

He takes his hand away from the mic, placing it on your thigh instead. He sneaks another finger in, making you leave out a small sound. He looks up at you with his glistening puppy eyes, smiling ever so slightly with the corners of his mouth. He picks up his pace significantly, the feeling of his fingers so deep inside your core making you want to scream right there. If there’s one thing you love about your boyfriend’s physical appearance it HAS to be his hands.

They’re so soft, perfect for holding or.. you know, feeling.

He takes really good care of his hands, specially for you. He makes sure he stays on the top of his hygiene mostly for moments like these. You slowly lean in to give him a quiet kiss, muffling a moan that was forming in the back of your throat. The buds of his fingers rub against the best spot as he curls them inside, making you leave out a louder sound. Luckily his members were preoccupied with the game and didn’t really pay attention to what they heard.

Jake’s eyebrows raised slightly, speeding up even more. You start shaking your head, barely being able to contain yourself anymore. Your poor underwear is stuck to your skin, almost fully wet against it. “J…Jake.. I can’t please.. i… please…” you plead in a faint whisper.

“What’s that, love? tell me clearly.” he says, clearly knowing what you’re about to say but he still loves teasing you for it.

“Gonna cum…. oh m… fucking days. Please. Let me.. cum..” you whisper so slightly again, the sound barely hitting his ears.

“Keep quiet though, i’m letting you finish don’t worry.” he keeps going, massaging your thigh with his other hand. You immediately feel the knot in your stomach unleash with a large gush that spreads down his fingers and onto his sweatpants. You cover your mouth with your hand really tightening your palm on your face.

He smiles in satisfaction, pulling his fingers out to shove them inside his mouth. He licks his fingers to be able to taste you on his tongue, and he finally grabs onto your ass. He gives it a little playful slap before grinding you on him. You manage to calm your high down just to focus on him. You look down at his bulge forming in his now wet stained pants.

Jake has always been hard to take, in other words, he’s just packing. It never demotivated you to take him whole, no matter how much he stretched you out. Even his half-hard dick is hard to grab with one hand. That’s why when you slide his sweatpants off, you smile at him before barely wrapping one hand around his cock. You lazily stroke him to get him rock hard, your wet pussy just patiently waiting right next to it.

“Are you gonna be able to take it?” he looks at you understanding, knowing how before you would end up so stretched out after. You nod your head, sure of your actions this time.

“I can.” you reply. Once he’s fully hard, you trace a finger on the veins on his dick. Each and every one. You lick your lips before letting out a string of saliva fall down his cock, lubricating it a bit before positioning his tip on your hole. You take a deep breath as you sit on him slowly. He stretches you out more and more, and he insists on slowing everything down for you but you were so desperate to have him inside you that you just didn’t care anymore.

He keeps telling you to stop for yourself, to pull out if it’s too much. Instead you shush him, leaning your head back as you let yourself down on him. When you finally take him whole, your body shakes slightly at the feeling. You feel so full right now, so stretched. But there’s no way you’re pulling away.

His members start wondering where he is, and how they keep hearing breathing as he’s not in the game and he’s been missing for so long already. You panic a little upon hearing them ask about Jake but instead you just close your eyes, feeling his tip in your deepest spot.

“Oh fucks… sake. You’re so.. damn huge.” you whisper cry to him. He giggles a bit, only looking at you the whole time. “Let me see you move on it.” he grabs onto your waist gently.

You suck on your bottom lip as you sit back up, then back down on him. You start off with small bounces and somehow it never gets easier, no matter how many times you’ve both done this before. You do go slow for your own good, and he lets you go at your own pace.

He admires your pretty face contorting in all ways to his dick, but that just might be his favourite part. He loves how you react. You try your best picking up your pace, figuring he might’ve gotten bored already.

But it was the exact opposite, he didn’t mind, he wanted you to feel comfortable. You grind yourself on him a bit faster and he lets out a groan. “You’re so tight around me.. sweetheart..” he thinks he hasn’t stretched you out enough beforehand. “We can.. do it..” you say, already out of breath.

You spread your legs a bit more, releasing a bit of tension on him. You succeed bouncing on his big cock, whilst using his shoulders as handles. “You’re taking it so good..” he whispers. You go faster at his praises.

He’s been stretching you out for a while now, and it definitely got easier over time. The slight discomfort turned into satisfying pleasure for you. His swollen tip hits your g-spot every single time, making you want to cum right there. However, he’s been wanting to finish ever since you started. You feel so good wrapped around him he’s surprised he hasn’t let out a moan yet.

He rests his head on the chair enjoying your every move on him. You go faster again, getting closer to cumming again. Your puffy cunt is crying at this point, while you let out a slight moan with every bounce.

At this point his friends might’ve caught on, but you couldn’t care less, you just needed him and that’s it. You keep going for a bit before, before rolling your eyes back to cum. “I’m— again… I… oh m… Jake..” you struggle.

You don’t get to say anything else because you instantly finish again, your thighs shaking on top of him. You moan ever louder than before and your squirt runs down his legs now. He bites his lower lip, making you keep going with his palms on your ass. Your tired body keeps bouncing on him, and after a few more bounces, he cums all deep inside you. His dick twitches in sync with his moans after pulling out. His cum slowly pours out of you and onto the chair. You both sit like that for a few minutes to regain your thoughts, but instead he just grabs your ass again, shoving you back onto his cock.

A bit of cum shoves back into you too, a white ring forming around his base. You wrap your arms around his neck, as well as your head buried deep into it. You give his hot skin multiple kisses with heavy breaths. You both end up sweaty, breathing your lungs out. He keeps his dick inside you, without moving you or anything. He moves his chair back to his desk, getting that headset off you. Before placing it on his head, he gives your exposed ear a kiss. “Such a good girl, you took me so well.” he says before putting his headset back on and fixing his mic to his mouth.

“Hey guys, sorry I was gone for so long. Just wanted to make my girl happy.”

[cherry-coffees]

"Yes, Princess"

princess!Caitlyn x lady in-waiting!reader

cw: 2.7K words | forbidden love, 18+ mdni, smut with a hint of angst, fingering, oral sex, implied scissoring, top!Caitlyn, mommy kink, praise kink, my first time writing smut so I apologize!

Head up, eyes bright, graceful walk, sweet smile.

Those are the words that repeat in your head over and over again like a broken record as you enter the ballroom. The Kiramman ballroom, to be exact: one of the grandest rooms in the Piltover palace. The scene is breathtaking: chandeliers emitting a warm glow over the room that’s filled with expensive champagne and linen tablecloths and gold trimmings along the walls. A picture of elegance and grace that perfectly matches the Kiramman royal family.

You walk as gracefully as you can into the center of the ballroom to mingle with guests, bowing slightly and introducing yourself with a last name that always seems to catch people’s attention. You’re a Piltover noble, that much is clear. A pretty one at that: dressed in a baby pink, floor length gown that hugs your torso and chest just right, trailing into silk that parts in a slit up past your knee. Carefully chosen accessories, styled hair: you’re the picture of grace. 

After a few minutes of mingling with the other nobles in attendance, Mel finds you easily. “There you are!” She exclaims, gold flecks dusting her cheeks. “I thought I missed you; you took so long to join the party!”

Relief sweeps through you at the familiar face. “Sorry,” you sigh, adjusting your hair over your shoulder. “I was helping the princess get ready, and it ran a little late. I had to rush my own getting ready afterwards.”

“Ah, of course, my favorite lady-in-waiting,” Mel laughs airily. “How else would the Kiramman princess survive? And you look stunning, by the way; I’ve seen more than a few guys eyeing you since you came in.”

“I’m just happy I look composed” you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes, surrounded by important guests. “These shoes hurt like a bitch.”

“Yeah, well,” Mel’s lips quirk into a mischievous smile. “It must be working because there’s one person who hasn’t taken her eyes off you since you walked in.”

Oh.

Your stomach churns a little as you follow Mel’s glance behind you, to the front of the ballroom where the royal family is standing. Or, more specifically, the Kiramman princess: Caitlyn. Navy hair combed out and hitting her mid-back, with a simple navy gown to match. Her posture perfect and poised as always. But through her polite smile at the nobles that greet her, her icy-blue eyes were focused elsewhere: you. 

You try to suppress the wave of heat that goes through you. You know those eyes. You see them every day, had zipped up her dress and clasped her necklace around her neck not even an hour ago. A usual everyday task for you as her lady in-waiting, it might seem, but you still have your moments of your cheeks flushing pink. How can you not? It’s Caitlyn. She must have been destined to be a princess, to be admired by millions with her Gods-given beauty.

In this moment, though, you only let yourself lock eyes with her for a second before you’re turning back to Mel. “Um, yeah,” you blink, desperately hoping your carefully applied blush covers your flushed cheeks. “She, uh, recommended this dress to me, so she probably just noticed I ended up wearing it.”

Mel nods, seemingly dropping the topic, though there’s a hint of knowing in her raised eyebrows. “Right. Anyways, I’ll find you later. Wanted to say hi before I grab more champagne.” She squeezes your arm and flashes you a smile before she disappears into the crowd.

Now alone, you’re thrown right back into the scene of music and ballgowns and a few too many overly nice men. You smile sweetly, making polite conversation. What’s a lovely lady like you doing by yourself? You look beautiful. Are you really the lady in-waiting for Princess Caitlyn? 

You can only take so much of the same conversations, the same flirtatious glances and smooth offers to dance. You’re knee-deep in another exchange with some noble man from Noxus, who thinks he’s being way more charming than he is, when you feel a presence behind you. And, when you see the man go wide-eyed, you have a pretty good idea of who it is.

“Excuse me,” Caitlyn’s posh accent rings from behind you. “I was wondering if I might steal my lady in-waiting for a moment?”

“O-Oh! Yes, of course, Princess,” the man stutters, hastily managing a bow and backing away — to find another girl to hit on, most likely. You turn to face Caitlyn, tilting your head upward to meet her gaze. Damn, she’s tall.

“If you’ll come with me,” her formalities don’t falter once as she gently takes hold of your arm, steering you towards a less-crowded corner of the ballroom. It’s inherently obvious that you don’t really have a choice.

Caitlyn lets go of your arm once in the corner, and you take the moment to adjust your dress, fluffing it out a bit. Her eyes follow the movement. “Having fun?” She asks, her voice calm and unwavering.

“Ah, you know,” you sigh, tilting your head. “Greeting everyone.”

“Mm.” Her hand makes its way back to your arm, tracing lightly over your skin. “Any suitors catch your eye?”

Her words are posed as an innocent question, but you know her too well to believe it. Her hand’s motions don’t cease, and you can’t help a half-smile. “Possessive,” you mumble, so soft that Caitlyn might not have heard it if she wasn’t so focused on your every breath.

She hums in response. “Can you blame me? Some of the men are a little too handsy. More than what’s appropriate for a ball.”

Again, you fight the instinctive roll of your eyes. “Sure.”

The reply causes Caitlyn to step forward, eyes just slightly narrowed. “Don’t sass me,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear. 

“Then don’t lie to me.”

“Fair,” Caitlyn’s laugh is quiet, her hand falling to your waist. “So what if I want my lady in-waiting all to myself?” The emphasis on the word my isn’t lost on you. Admittedly, you don’t mind it. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” You ask, blinking your wide eyes up at her with a slight furrow of your eyebrows. And oh, Caitlyn’s weak to your innocent expression. She has to bite the inside of her cheek to suppress the urge to kiss it off your face.

She lets out another hum, if a little more breathy this time. “Darling,” her voice is hushed. Now it’s your turn to go weak at the pet name falling from her lips in that hot-as-fuck accent of hers. “You know how I feel about you in pink. And with the slit? Are you trying to get me to lose it at my own ball?”

Well. You really don’t know how to respond to her accusation given that it’s true. So you just toss your hair behind your shoulder, glancing around at the crowded ballroom. “How unofficial for a princess.”

“I wouldn’t tease,” Caitlyn warns, moving behind you so her breath ghosts over the back of your neck. She doesn’t miss the gooseflesh that springs up at the contact, and she has to bite back a smirk. To anyone in attendance at the ball, it would just look like she’s fixing your dress. Her plan, you suppose.

You swallow, keeping your eyes trained on the opposite wall of the ballroom. So no one will suspect anything, you tell yourself. Definitely not because it makes you straighten up a little more and listen to every word she says when she uses that authoritative tone of hers.

“Hm,” Caitlyn lets a hint of a smug smile grace her features as she moves again, this time in front of you so your gazes lock. “I suppose I’ll see you later.” She leaves you with a brush of your hands before drifting off to rejoin Cassandra, Piltover’s queen and her mother.

You’re frozen for a moment, unsure of your next move. After a few seconds, you blink rapidly to compose yourself before moving over to take a glass of the champagne Mel had mentioned earlier. You really need a drink.

I------» ~~~ «------I

“Gods,” you exhale shakily as your body’s practically slammed against a wall. The precaution is a pale hand that cradles the back of your head, shielding it from hurt.

Caitlyn noses into the corner of your jaw as a silent apology before her mouth drops, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat. The scent of her shampoo floods your senses — some kind of flower, maybe?  

It’s been maybe an hour since the ball’s end, and you had come to check on Caitlyn before going to bed for the night. Though, not before stopping by your room to freshen up. Your guess had been proven right when she had opened her bedroom door at the first sound of your knock, yanking you inside with zero hesitation. She had been waiting for her chance, it seemed.

You can’t help another breathy sigh as her lips find your pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin into her mouth in a way that makes your hands find her shoulders, squeezing gently. “No marks,” you breathe, and you can feel Caitlyn’s annoyed huff against your neck.

“Why can’t I just mark what I want?” She presses another hot kiss to your pulse. She’s almost like a child, pouting over things she can’t have. But it’s not either of your doings. 

You can’t say anything to that because, if it had been your decision, you would have let her paint your neck with her love bites long ago. Caitlyn, too, seems to notice your tension, and she lifts her head back up. “You’re thinking too much,” she murmurs, her nose brushing against yours. “Don’t.”

Any reply dies on your tongue as Caitlyn kisses you with a fiery passion, presses of lips turning into the strokes of her tongue into your mouth. Her knee finds its way between your thighs, even with both of you still adorning your long dresses. You gasp, but she swallows it, continuing to kiss you deeply like she’s been wanting to for hours.

“Still worked up from earlier?” Her mouth breaks from yours, lips twisting into a lazy smirk. 

Your cheeks flush with a pink hue, and you glare at her. You both had gotten more than a little distracted when you had helped her get ready for the ball, ending with heated kisses and grinding that did little to relieve your ache for her. “Don’t tease.”

“Mm, you’re telling me what to do now?” All it takes is an arch of Caityn’s eyebrows and your gaze drops from hers. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, conceding by leaning up to kiss her jaw. Though, when you see the muscle flex, you feel a sense of satisfaction rush through you. She’s not as immune to you as she might pretend. That much is clear when she tugs you over to her bed, bringing you to straddle her lap.

“You’re making me crazy,” Caitlyn mouths at your collarbone, her hand sliding up the slit of your dress to squeeze your thigh. “I hated everyone looking at you. You’re mine to look at.”

“Ah,” you sigh, running a hand through her now-messy navy hair, the locks tangling in your fingers. “Everyone’s looking at you, Princess.”

Caitlyn’s icy eyes flash at your emphasis of her title, and before you know it, she’s flipped you onto you back on her bed, one of her hands pinning both of yours above your head. “That’s not what you call me when we’re alone.” 

“Cait-"

“Nope,” she tightens her grip on your wrists as punishment. “Try again.”

“Mommy-"

“There we go,” Caitlyn coos, letting your hands free and trailing her perfectly manicured nails down your arms. “Now, why don’t we get you out of this dress, hm?”

She’s tugging at the zipper of your dress before you can even respond, and you arch your back — half to give her more access and half because this all feels so good that you crave more. More of this, more of her.

And when Caitlyn tosses the fabric to the floor without sparing a glance at it, you swear the look in her eyes is predatory as she stares at you in your lingerie. “Beautiful,” she breathes, like she hasn’t seen you before, and you feel a wave of heat straight down to your core. 

“You knew I’d do this,” Caitlyn accuses, making quick work of slipping off your bra and panties. More specifically, the navy set that's her favorite of your lingerie. She claims it’s because the color suits you, but you know better. You know it’s because she likes you in her color: a silent claim on you. “You wore this knowing I’d want to fuck you.”

“You want to fuck me?” You question in mock-surprise, though immediately regret teasing her when she tangles your hair in her fist and angles your face up to meet hers.

“What was that?” Caitlyn’s voice is strict, composed even as her other hand grips your hip so hard you’re sure it’ll bruise. 

“Nothing,” you’re quick to assure, because if you sass her, Caitlyn won’t let you come. And gods, you want to come. She’s already worked you up so much that your thighs are slick with anticipation.

“And?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “‘m sorry, Mommy.”

“Good,” she releases your hair to move down your body and you hate how much wetter you get at the smallest of praise. “Now, be a darling and spread your legs.”

Your thighs fall open at the order, and you don’t have to see Caitlyn’s face to feel the smug pride radiating off her. She presses her thumb to your swollen clit and coos at the strangled gasp you let out. “I- please,” you whimper, pleading for any kind of relief.

But Caitlyn, though very sweet and attentive, is just a little bit mean, too. So she teases her fingers along your soaked slit, not giving you the penetration you desire. “What do you want, love? Fingers, tongue-?”

“Anything,” you whine because it feels like she’s been baiting you forever now, if only a few minutes. 

“So desperate for me” Caitlyn smirks teasingly as her gaze meets yours, but gives in all the same, plunging two fingers into you. Because she loves it — loves how badly you need her. She starts slow, but eventually builds up speed when you whimper in protest.

“Oh,” you mewl, fisting at her sheets when she angles her fingers upwards to meet that sweet spot inside you that dissolves you into pure pleasure. “Oh, please, I need-"

“Shh, I know,” Caitlyn soothes, her other hand on your thigh surprisingly gentle, a contrast to the rapid thrusts of her fingers. And she does. She’s so in-tuned to your needs, knows exactly how you like to be touched after months of secret affairs that no one in the palace would suspect.

With that, her lips wrap around your aching clit and suck, tongue teasing your most sensitive nerves as her fingers continue their rough motions inside you. You let out a squeal of pleasure, immediately clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises. But Caitlyn doesn’t let up in her relentless stimulation, and it doesn’t take long for you to keen into your palm as you come around her fingers.

She helps you through your release, letting your hips angle against her mouth as your orgasm racks through your body, before she gently slips her fingers out. You shakily prop yourself up on your elbows and god, you could come again just from the dark look in her icy eyes as she looks up at you from between your thighs. “Fuck, Caitlyn.”

“You’re not done, you know,” Caitlyn murmurs, smiling all the same as she moves up your body to kiss you. 

“I know,” you mumble against her lips, reaching up to tug her hips down to meet yours. Caitlyn hisses, shifting to slip off her own lingerie before pressing her dripping core against yours. “Wanna stay like this forever.”

And, as she descends upon you once again, the brief thought enters your mind that you really hope you get to stay like this forever. Even if forever is only until the sun comes up.

Ugh. Need her.

As said, this is my first time writing smut so...I hope it didn't suck? Thank you sm for all the love and support on my writing in the month-ish I've been on here! Sending love to everyone <3

Reminder that my inbox/requests are open :)

[lay-z]

Mommy's Good Pup (1/2)

— pairing: sub!John ‘Soap’ MacTavish ⨯ fem!Reader

— warnings/info: 18+ | smut; pet play; established romantic relationship; himbofication; dom/sub dynamic; mommy kink; rimming; free use; unrealistic amount of cum/orgasms; fluff/aftercare; abrupt ending

Johnny has some secret kinks he’d love to explore with the first woman he truly loves and trusts. 

The front door slams shut behind you as you toe off your shoes to leave them behind before making your way into the flat, clutching the sleek black shopping bag in your right hand. 

When you enter the living room, Johnny has already perked up on the couch like a loyal dog who’s been waiting for his owner―which is already too perfect itself. 

Dressed in nothing else but a pair of black boxers and a loose-fitted tank top that matches his eye colour and gives a nice view of his muscular arms and shoulders, his baby blues light up as he tosses his phone aside on the couch cushion haphazardly, focusing all his attention on you and flashing a toothy smile before his handsome face twists into a sudden scowl. 

“Where were ye?” His voice is only half accusing with a petulant undertone, like you’ve left for days without a note instead of barely two hours. “I’ve been worried.” 

Approaching the couch, you put the bag down on the coffee table. “Running some errands downtown,” you answer honestly, giving a small unapologetic shrug. “Traffic was a pain in the arse, so it took a bit longer. Sorry.” 

He pouts, grumbling under his breath: “Could’a told me. Doesnae take much to type a wee message, innit?” 

You suppress a smile, but your eyes twinkle with mirth. Johnny is too adorable when he’s needy and clingy―which is always whenever he’s home from work and life on base. 

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were at the gym.” The scowl softens―even more so when you close the distance and slowly crawl onto his lap, knees bracketing his meaty thighs on either side as you straddle him. His hands come up naturally to rest on your backside, groping your ass cheeks through your jeans as his head tips back to peer up at you. 

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “So thoughtful,” he croaks, pupils already dilating and swallowing up the baby blue of his irises. “But I missed my woman. Always do, ye know tha’, right?” 

Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you start rubbing and caressing the sore muscles, nodding absentmindedly. He’s still warm from his recent shower, his golden skin lightly flushed, and dark mohawk damp while the fresh scent of his minty two in one bodywash and shampoo clings to him. 

Johnny leans his head back against the couch, eyelids drooping with a soft sigh as he enjoys your gentle massage and the weight of you on his lap. It’s the missing piece of truly returning home and all he’s going to be craving on his leave for the next two weeks. 

His fingers dig into the plump fat of your arse through the rough fabric of your jeans, like a kitten making biscuits, then his gaze drifts over to the coffee table and the black bag resting on top of it. 

“So... what did ye get, hm?” he asks curiously. From the looks of the volume, you bought quite a few things. 

Trailing your fingertips along his collarbones where they peek out from his tank top, you draw your thumbs up to trace the curve of his thick neck with a look that borders on hungry as you observe how his pulse throbs below his skin. 

After licking your lips, you answer: “A few surprises for you to celebrate the start of your leave, baby. It’s something uh... something I think you’ll like a lot.” 

Dark eyebrows draw together in a curious and intrigued frown, hips shifting underneath you as he sinks deeper into the cushions, adjusting his grip on your body. It’s subtle, but his beginning restlessness is enough to let you know that you have his full attention―like dangling a treat in front of a puppy’s snout. 

“Oh, aye? A kitchen or bedroom surprise?” He lets out a boyish little laugh as you lean back to grab the bag and place it between your bodies. “Both, I suppose,” you answer with a pondering pout. “Depending on where we use it.” 

He snorts, heart skipping in his chest as you begin rummaging through the contents of the bag.  

“I just have a few questions, okay? Nothing bad, though.” And your own heart flutters nervously as your fingers wrap around the black soft leather collar. The small heart shaped name tag jingles softly as you pull it out―stainless steel glinting in the daylight with Mommy’s Good Pup engraved on it in cursive letters. 

“Like... is this too much?” you ask, lashes fluttering with nerves and excitement as you show off the collar. His collar. 

Johnny gulps audibly. Bright eyes widening comically as you reveal your surprise―or one of them at least. His cheeks flush a soft pink as his heart begins to pound blood through his veins, most of it rushing south and into his head simultaneously, nearly making him dizzy. He practically stares at the collar dangling from your fingers. The engraving on the tag causing his cock to twitch in his briefs and the softest gasp to hitch in his throat. 

So, you did pick up on the hints he has been dropping for the past weeks. 

“No, it’s... it’s perfect,” he manages to stammer, unable to tears his gaze away from the collar. “Ye could never have somethin’ like this be too much, luv.” 

Licking his lips nervously, like a dog licking its chaps, he reaches out with sweaty palms to take the gift from your delicate grasp.  

The black leather is soft and supple, obviously top-quality, the tag cool against his skin. It’s not too heavy, just enough to be a comforting pressure around his neck when fastened around it. A shudder runs down his spine as he runs his thumb over the engraving, tracing the letters that would soon rest against his skin.  

He clears his throat before speaking: “So, ye’ve picked up on my hints, hm? And–” he clears his throat again and finally glances up at you again, his voice soft and strangely vulnerable, a hint of fear and excitement swirling in the depths of his eyes. “Ye dinnae think it’s... weird, do ye?” 

A part of him is still unreasonably terrified of your reaction, even though you’ve already bought the collar, making the first huge step into the direction of this new kink he’s all too excited to finally explore with someone he trusts and loves more than he ever thought possible. 

However, another part of him is utterly elated and eager to finally have you put the collar on him, to have you claim him the way he has been dreaming to be claimed and loved since first laying eyes on you. 

You can almost see the insecure and doubtful thoughts play in his head like a horror movie before you take the collar back to unbuckle it swiftly. “No, not weird at all, baby.” You assure him with a small shrug. “I just wish you would’ve felt comfortable enough with me to just... tell me or talk about it, y’know? That’s what the John MacTavish I know and love usually does.” 

His chest deflates as he exhales the deep breath he was holding, nodding eagerly. “I... I jus’ wasn’t brave enough,” he admits softly, his Scottish accent thicker than usual. “Ye ken I’m usually pretty open, but... this was different. It felt like something special and weird, something I wanted to keep just for me. Until I met ye.” 

Your soft hum of acknowledgment and understanding makes him relax into the cushion, though his cock begins to throb and harden as you bring up the collar to his thick neck, your eyes locking with his in question. 

“May I collar you now, baby? Make you my sweet pup officially?” you ask playfully, already fitting the leather around his neck, but waiting for his permission to fasten it. 

The words Mommy’s Good Pup glint up at Johnny, making his heart race and his cock twitch again, nestled under your crotch. He feels the anticipation building inside him, the need to give himself over to you completely slowly bordering on overwhelming. This is what he’s been dreaming of and it’s finally becoming a reality. 

“Aye,” he breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, ye can collar me, love. I’m all yers.” 

Your own heart beats rapidly as you buckle up and secure the collar around his neck, listening to his words and seeing his pulse in his neck throb so deliciously. 

“I know you are, baby, and I love that, but there’s some stuff we need to clear up before we do this, okay?” you remark thoughtfully while flicking the little name tag with your fingertip with a soft giggle before rubbing your palms up and down his buff chest. “What exactly is this about? Do you want to be used? Need more attention and loving? A little bit of degradation or more praise? Talk to me, Johnny. I wanna understand this new... experiment.” 

Johnny's breath catches in his throat as you secure the collar around his neck, the leather moulding perfectly to his golden tanned skin. He can feel the weight of it, a tangible reminder of who he belongs to officially now―in a way he’s never quite belonged to anyone before.  

His pulse races beneath your fingertips as you flick the name tag, the jingle echoing in his ears like a promise of things to come. 

He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he tries to find the words to express the swirling thoughts and desires in his head. Your supple palms feel like brands against his chest, even through the fabric of his tank top, your touch igniting a fire deep within him, like searing napalm spreading through his veins. He wants to lean into you, feel your warmth and affection wash over him. 

“It’s... it’s about givin’ myself over to ye completely,” he starts to explain, his voice now low and heavy with emotion. “I want to be used for yer pleasure, to be the instrument of yer own desire. Want to make ye feel good and worship yer bonnie body like ye deserve.” 

He reaches up to cup your face in his large, calloused hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones gently. “I need yer attention when I’m home. Yer focus, yer love. I want to be the centre of yer world, even if only fer a moment. And... and I want to be pushed, to be tested. I want to be praised for bein’ a good boy, but... I also want to be punished when am bein’ bad.” 

A fierce blush stains his cheeks now, but he keeps holding your lovely gaze, determined to be honest with you. “I want to be degraded; to be told ‘m jus’ a dumb animal, a set of holes f’ye to use. But I also want to be cherished, to be held an’ kissed an’ told that ye love me. I want it all, hen. I want everythin’ you can give me.” 

You hum and nod along, leaning into his touch as he lists of his deepest desires, needs, and wants while you continue to rub his chest, feeling his muscular thighs tense as you straddle him, cock twitching and swelling to live as you sit on his crotch. His boxer briefs doing little to nothing to hide his growing arousal. 

“Mhm, yeah,” you rasp, pinching and rolling his nipples through his shirt with half-lidded eyes, thoroughly enjoying the flush on his cheeks. “That sounds very lovely to me, baby. Thank you for telling me.” 

You keep toying with his peaking nipples as he begins to squirm and breathe harder. “But my good boy needs to tell me about his safe word again before we start doing anything, okay? Can you do that for Mommy?” 

Johnny gasps as your fingers find his nipples, the sensitive buds hardening under your teasing touch. His hips buck up slightly, seeking more friction, more contact. The growing bulge in his briefs throbs and twitches against your clothed core, his cock aching to be freed. 

“Y-yeah, of course,” he pants, his cheeks burning hotter under your intense gaze and the shift of your tone to something more dominant, soft yet demanding. “My safe word... is Loch Ness. If it’s too much, I’ll say Loch Ness.” 

His hands drop from your beautiful face to cover your hands with his own, pressing them more firmly against his chest. His heart races beneath your palms, a staccato beat that matches the pounding of his cock against the confines of his underwear. 

“Please, Mommy... I want to be so good fer ye. I want to give ye everythin’ you need,” he nearly whimpers, his voice raw with desire. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. I’m yers.” 

“Loch Ness,” you repeat evenly with a few nods, allowing him to guide your hands for a moment as you start grinding your hips to stimulate his bulge when he bucks his hips with a soft grunt. “So... let’s say, whenever you’re in the mood to play, you will put on the pretty collar I’ve bought you, okay? And vice versa. I’ll ask permission to put it on you when Mommy would like to play with her sweet pup. Sound good?” 

Johnny shudders as you grind your hips against his, the friction of your rough jeans sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. His cock throbs harder, a damp patch forming on his boxers as his arousal grows. He grips your hips tighter, pulling you flush against him as he rolls his own hips up to meet yours, letting out a shaky breath. 

He has officially ascended and found heaven; there is no other explanation for this. 

“Yes, Mommy,” he gasps. “Whenever I want to play, I’ll put on my collar fer ye. And whenever ye want to play, ye can ask to put it on me. I’ll always be ready for ye, though.” 

He leans in to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. “I want to be ready for you all the time. I want to be a good boy, always eager and attentive. Yer good pup, Mommy.” 

“Good,” you reply with a soft gasp, observing as his eyes begin to gloss over while he submits to you so willingly, letting go of any stress or troubles from his work as his brain melts out of his ears metaphorically. “Good fucking boy, Johnny.” You coo at him, one hand clutching his shoulder while the other grips the sofa’s backrest for leverage as you begin to dry-hump his cock more fervently. 

“My sweet boy, hm? Are you gonna cum in your undies for Mommy now? Gonna show me how desperate you are for me?” 

The bag crinkles and slides off his lap with your movements, but neither of you cares. Johnny lets out a low moan as you hump his crotch, his fingers digging into your hips as he bites his lower lip, determined to follow your wish and command as he focuses on the feeling on top of you and the pressure around his neck while the tag jingles cutely against the collar. 

The pressure and friction are enough delicious torture to push him closer to the edge embarrassingly fast; his hips bucking erratically, chasing the pleasure you’re giving him so freely.

“Oh fuck... Christ,” he pants harshly through gritted teeth. “I’m so feckin’ desperate for ye, Mommy. I f-feel... ‘m gonna... Fuck–!” His cock jerks and pulses rhythmically, tip leaking more precum and staining his boxers.  

Johnny’s been wanting and craving you since returning home late last night; too late to disturb your peaceful sleep for a welcome home quickie, which has only left him even more pent up after hitting the gym today. 

“Please, let me... I–I need... ‘m gonna cum. P-Please, let me cum!” He admits shamefully, face burning hot with humiliation and arousal while you give him a first taste of exactly what he asked for―and it’s almost too thrilling and too much already, if it weren’t for the way you moan along with him in pleasure. 

With a strangled cry and his eyes squeezing shut, Johnny comes undone. Cock pulsing and jerking as it erupts in his boxer briefs so hard, his cum soaks and spurts right through the fabric, painting his boxers and your jeans white. His bulky mass shudders and convulses, hands gripping you possessively as he gets lost in the throes of an intense, shameful climax. 

Meanwhile, you watch and feel him come with a smile. Your own soft moans overshadowed by his as he makes a mess between you two. 

Cupping his face with both hands, you hold him steady as he continues to pant and shudder, your breaths mingling briefly before you capture his lips in a deep, filthy kiss; tongue delving past his lips to claim his mouth and get a first real taste of his submission while Johnny whimpers into the kiss, his body still trembling and quaking with aftershocks. 

“Oh, fuck,” you groan after pulling back slightly. “My good fucking boy. Came so fucking much for me, hm? All for Mommy, sweet pup.” 

Your praise washes over him like warm milk and honey, wrapping him up in a blissful feeling of home. When you pull back, he chases after your lips with a soft whine, hands roaming your flanks, desperate to keep you close. 

“A-Aye,” he stammers weakly. “All f’ye. I couldn’t–couldn’t hold back, not when ye’r doin’ all this f’me. I’m so sorry, I jus’ couldnae control it. It’s embarrassing.” 

In unison, you both peer down at the mess he’s made with his massive load of cum, a mix of shame and pride warring in his expression while your foreheads rest against one another. 

You click your tongue in reprimand, shaking your head with a soft smirk as you nuzzle your nose against his.  

“No, not embarrassing, baby. Never embarrassing. I love it when you cum quickly, when I make you feel so good and horny that you can’t help yourself but cum for me. Okay?” You’re practically cooing at him as you start caressing his muscular torso again, rubbing your palms along his arms and shoulders. 

Johnny shudders at your gentle touch, his skin tingling with goosebumps and his cock giving a feeble twitch of renewed interest. Your reassuring words make his heart swell with happiness and love, and he leans into your caress, craving more of your touch as he soaks it all up with greed. 

“Really, Mommy?” he asked softly, a hint of wonder in his voice. “Ye dinnae think it’s gross or pathetic? Am glad I could make ye feel good, but... I wanted to last longer for ye. I wanted to worship ye properly before I lost control.” 

He peers up at you with a mix of affection and determination, his hands sliding down to your hips again while the smell of you and his drying cum fills his nostrils. “Can I make it up to ye, Mommy? Can I worship yer gorgeous curves properly, now that I’ve calmed down a bit?” 

You keep caressing him sweetly, feeling his skin break out in goosebumps beneath your palms while his bright blue eyes sparkle with wonder and adoration, causing your own chest to heave and blossom with warmth, butterflies going rampant in your stomach. 

But you shake your head. “No, Johnny. It’s not gross or pathetic. I like exploring this kink with you. I love that you want to do this with me. You’re mine, baby. My sweet Johnny, and I’m yours. All yours.” You lean in to kiss the tip of his nose, his scruffy cheek, his lips―each sweet kiss serving to underline your statements, your claim on each other. 

“How about we stay in today, hm? Order some food later and just... keep playing a bit, hm? What do you say?” 

A blissful and cheeky smile spreads across his face as he nuzzles into your touch, savouring the closeness. Before he answers, he turns his face to capture your lips in another deep kiss, groaning contentedly into your mouth. 

“Mmm, I like the sound of that, Mommy,” he murmurs roughly, his hands sliding around to cup your plush rear, giving you a squeeze and pulling you harder against his lap despite the mess. “Stayin’ in, orderin’ food, playin’ with my beautiful Mistress... sounds like a bloody perfect day.” 

He pulls back slightly to gaze into your eyes while his hands tug on your shirt to pull it from the waistband of your jeans before they slide under the stretchy fabric to explore the supple skin of your back until you arch into his touch, ass grinding over his softened prick again. 

“Aye, let’s stay in, order a feast, and see where the day takes us. I want to spend every moment I can worshippin’, pleasin’, and lovin’ ye, hen.” 

Your eyelids flutter closed with a soft sigh as you let him caress and explore your body for a moment, listening to his words before your eyes flutter open again. 

The black collar you’ve bought him looks so good around his throat, along with the little dog name tag, that you can’t help but touch it again before you glance at the bag still resting and half-spilled beside you on the couch cushion. 

“I've bought more than this collar, y’know,” you say, biting your cheek to keep yourself from grinning too wickedly. “But before we continue, I want you to get naked for me... and I want you to stay naked for the rest of the day, except for the pretty collar... and the butt plug I’ve bought for you.” 

Butt plug. 

That makes his breath hitch even sharper while your fingers trail along his collar, his hands still underneath your shirt. Nervousness and excitement flash in his bright eyes as he swallows thicky, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips. 

“Butt plug?” he repeats softly, a hint of awe in his voice. “I cannae believe ye’d spoil me so.” He slowly pulls his hands away from your body, more than reluctantly. 

Johnny has shoved quite a few fingers up his own arse while exploring himself in the past, has taken your fingers on multiple occasions now, and even that small pink love egg vibrator that he usually uses on your clit―but he’s never taken a butt plug.  

“Not just any butt plug,” you announce, already reaching over to pull it out of the bag. “It has a tail, too!” 

And when you present it to him, Johnny’s eyes nearly roll back into his skull as a feverish wave of desire and arousal overcomes him while he mentally thanks any god that is responsible for bringing you into his eyes. 

“Fuck,” he groans, chest heaving with deep breaths as he watches your fingers curl around the stainless-steel plug―with a beige fluffy tail attached to it. “Didn’t think white would suit you, so I picked beige.” 

You sound so giddy and eager, it’s maddening, and Johnny can feel his cock slowly pulse and throb back to life despite his release mere moments ago. 

“Oh, aye?” His voice sounds breathless as he reaches for the hem of his tank top to follow your other instructions, more than eager to get naked for you. He pulls the soft blue fabric over his head and drops it next to him haphazardly. “I don’t care much about the bloody colour as long as ye find it pretty, love.” 

Your soft chuckle is music to his ears, and he must force himself to nudge you off his lap, so he can tug his ruined boxer briefs down next while you sit back on your haunches next to him. Standing up, he shimmies out of the sticky, uncomfortable fabric; muscles rippling with his movements as his soft cock is exposed, his naked body now fully on display for you, except for the black collar around his neck. 

The dog tag jingles softly as he sits back down on the couch, his muscular thighs spreading as he gets more comfortable, his expression a mix of vulnerability and excited anticipation as he meets your eyes again. 

“Like this, Mommy?” he rasps. “Is this what ye wanted to see?” And he spreads his legs more, needing and yearning for all your attention on him while his impressive cock and balls rest between his thighs, framed by dark, unruly pubes that connect to a thick happy trail. “Am all yers, ready to wear whatever ye bought me, ready to be yers in every way.” 

“Fucking perfect, sweet pup,” you purr hoarsely after watching him undress for you, and you reach out to caress and rub his chest once more, feeling his coarse dark chest hair under your fingertips before you lightly tug on his rosy nipple with a pleased smile, eliciting a gasp from him. “I want to put the tail plug inside you,” you remark, feeling his heartbeat thud against your palm while his fat, spent cock throbs between his meaty thighs. “Can I?” 

If Johnny had a tail, it would certainly be wagging right now, but alas―he can merely nod eagerly to show you how much he’d enjoy that, eyes sparkling with glee and trust as he scrambles on the couch to get in position for you. 

Scooting toward the edge of the couch cushion, and without hesitation, he lifts his legs and spreads them wider, putting his whole business and tight, puckered hole on lewd display for you. The musky scent of his sweat and arousal fill the air even thicker now as Johnny reaches down to hold himself open, his fingers sinking into the plush flesh of his ass. 

“Please, Mommy,” he whines needily, his hips lifting slightly as if offering himself to you. “Put it inside me. Claim me, own me, make me yer good boy.” 

“Aw, my sweet boy.” You rub his taut belly teasingly. “So fucking needy, hm? Fuck, I love that.” Pulling back, you get up from the couch and grab the sex toy. 

It’s not too big for him, you made sure of that when you bought it, measuring it with your fingers to compare the thickness, knowing that he’s taken three of your fingers in the past before. 

“Stay here and keep presenting that pretty asshole for me, yeah? I’ll clean this and get the lube.” You announce, caressing the fluffy tail along his arm playfully before leaving the living room. 

Johnny keeps shuddering and trembling even as you leave the room while your sweet praise rings in his ears like the echo of a gunshot, making him feel cherished and desired.  

The plug you’ve bought isn’t ginormous, but it’s certainly bigger that anything he’s taken up his arse before―and the thought of that furry tail wagging from his ass sends a thrill through him that nearly makes him feel drunk with desire and need. 

While you’re gone, he focuses on keeping his ass raised and spread, his puckered hole clenching and fluttering as the cool air from the AC brushes over his flushed skin. He can feel his flaccid cock starting to swell and lengthen again, the knowledge of what is about happen arousing him immensely once more. 

The sheer thought of having the toy stretch him and have his insides moulded to its shape enough to have him moan quietly, knowing he’ll be feeling that delicious ache for days as a reminder of your touch and claim on him. 

After a few minutes, you return, wearing nothing but a short black silk robe, holding the trusty bottle of lube and the tailed butt plug in your hands. 

Seeing that Johnny is still in the same position on the couch—keeping his legs up, hands under his bent knees while his ass rests on the edge of the couch seat, presenting his puckered asshole for you—pleases you more than you could’ve ever imagined. 

His face is flushed, his cock fully hard again despite having cum just a few minutes ago. It’s a sight to behold and one that makes your pussy even wetter as you approach him on bare feet, dimming the lights on your way over to him for a more sensual atmosphere. 

“Such a good boy, Johnny,” you praise him with a smile. “Doing so well for me, baby.” 

Getting down on your knees in front of him, you put the toy and lube down before you start massaging and groping his plump ass and the back of his meaty thighs while you watch his fat prick twitch and leak onto his stomach. 

“You’re okay, yeah? Talk to me.” 

Johnny’s breath catches in his throat at your return, azure eyes widening at the sight of you in the short silk robe. The black fabric clings to your curves, secured with a belt around your waist like a present for him, hinting at the delights hidden beneath.  

“Y-Yeah,” he answers with genuine awe at your sweetness, though he doesn’t know anything else but love and care from you. “I’m okay, ‘m more than okay. I feel amazin’, being here for ye like this.” 

And his hips buck slightly, cock jumping as you start groping and caressing him again. 

“Fuck, luv,” he groans, his head lolling back as he pushes his ass more firmly into your touch. “Yer hands feel s’good, Mommy. I love how ye touch me, how ye make me feel. So safe and loved.” When he gazes down at you with hooded eyes, his pupils are blown wide with lust. “I’m ready for the toy, Mommy. I want to feel it stretchin’ me open, claimin’ me inside and out as yours.” 

Hearing his confirmation that he’s okay eases your own hidden insecurities and helps you relax as you watch and study his every reaction. 

“That’s good, baby.” You smile up at him, eyes meeting as he holds his legs open for you, still caressing his ass and legs. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this, that you can finally experience this wish of yours with me. I’m enjoying this a lot, too.” 

Your eyes flicker to his flushed, twitching cock, and you lick your lips as observe the milky bead of precum drip onto his stomach while his balls keep throbbing. 

“Hm, but before I put the plug inside, I want you to cum again, okay? I’ll help you a bit more with that this time, I promise.” And with that, you spread his ass cheeks a little wider as you lean in to lick and suck on his plump balls. 

Johnny lets out a loud, strangled moan as soon as your warm, wet tongue starts lapping at his sensitive balls, your sweet lips latching around his flesh. The sensation sends electric jolts of pleasure shooting up his spine, making his spent cock bob against his stomach, sticky pre smearing across his lower stomach. His hands tighten on the backs of his knees, fingers sinking into the flesh as he tries his best to hold himself open for you. 

“Oh fuck!” he cries out, his voice breaking on a gasp. “That f-feels incredible–”  

His hips buck involuntarily, pressing his sac more firmly against your suckling mouth. The combination of your lips and tongue on him like this, and the filthy sight of you on your knees before him, is rapidly pushing him towards another intense climax. 

“Please, M-Mommy,” he pants harshly, his chest heaving and sweat beading on his brow. “Keep goin’, just like that. I'm gettin’ close again, s-so fuckin’ fast. Fuck! I want to cum f’ye, want ta give ye another load.” 

Listening to his wrecked voice, his moans and whimpers, makes your pussy drip and slick steadily while your cheeks grow even hotter with arousal as you taste his very essence on your tastebuds. 

Knowing that he’s already close again by the way his shaft twitches and his balls twitch on your tongue, you pull back to start peppering kisses around his sac and hairy thighs, going lower until you reach his sensitive taint. 

Leaning in, you lap and tease the area before going even lower—until you finally reach his puckered hole. And while you dig your fingers into his firm, trembling thighs, you spit on it obscenely before leaning in with a needy moan, and you start licking his hole, giving him his first proper rim job from. 

And Johnny lets out a guttural, animalistic moan as your tongue makes contact with his ass. The sensation unlike anything he has ever felt before, electric and overwhelming in its intensity. His body convulses, back arching off the couch as he fists his hands in the cushions. 

“AH, FUCK!” he roars, his voice echoing off the living room walls. “Holy shite–shite, shite... that feels... FUCK! Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” 

He’s so incredibly hard, his cockhead flaring an angry purple as it weeps a steady stream of precum onto his flushed skin. He’s whining and moaning so loud, you’re almost afraid the neighbours might hear, but his sounds are too sweet, his taste so good that you can’t really care. 

His balls draw up so tight they ache, his orgasm building to a crescendo while your nifty tongue delves deeper, probing and teasing his fluttering hole, pushing him closer and closer to a second orgasm. 

“Mommy, I’m... I’m gonna... FUCK!” Johnny yipped, his body going rigid as his climax slams into him like a bomb blast. 

Thick, hot ropes of cum spurt from his tip, painting his chest and stomach with streak after streak of his release. His asshole clenched and spasmed around your invading tongue, milking it, as if trying to coax you inside while Johnny’s eyes rolled back in his head, lost in the sensations of another mind-blowing orgasm. 

“Mommy... Mommy!” he chants breathlessly, his hips bucking erratically as he rides out the waves of his release, his speech slurring: “Fuck... s’good... so fuckin’ good.” 

You can feel your own slick arousal coat and stick to the inside of your thighs as you continue licking his rim and up his taint again while you reach for the tailed plug resting next to your knees while he’s too distracted―still coming, babbling, and shaking with aftershocks. 

Your clit throbs and pulses hotly between your folds, but you keep ignoring your own needs for now as you pop the cap of the bottle of lube open, and smearing a generous glob on the sex toy before you pull back from his ass to tease his fluttering hole with the smooth, round tip of the plug. 

“Atta boy,” you coo hoarsely, kissing and nipping his inner thigh as you slowly push the toy inside. “Relax for me, baby. You’re doing so good. So good for your Mommy.” 

Johnny’s cock continues to twitch, dribbling the last weak spurts of his release onto his stomach, coating his body hair. His bulky chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, sweat matting the short strands of his hair to his forehead, the feeling of the cool air on his slick skin and sore muscles making him shiver. 

When he feels the smooth tip of the plug teasing his slick hole, Johnny lets out a breathless moan. “Oh... oh, f-fuck.” His hips twitch slightly as you push the plug in a little further. “That feels... s-strange. But good. Oh, really fuckin’ good.” 

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and forces his body to relax, his muscles going pliant under your teasing ministrations as you suck a lovebite into his inner thigh. “I’m ready, Mommy,” he murmurs, gazing down at you with hazy, trusting eyes like the loyal puppy he is. 

“Shhhh, my sweet pup.” You shush him, still massaging his meaty thigh with one hand while pushing the thick plug deeper inside his ass; twisting and rolling it teasingly while his puckered hole clenches around it, sucking it deeper inside. 

“Just relax and feel this, yeah? I’m gonna make you turn all dumb for me tonight. Gonna turn you into my dump, sweet pup, Johnny.” 

Johnny whines and whimpers in return, his cheeks flushing as deeply as his swollen prick at your promising words, his shaft still hard as you push and tease the fat plug deeper into his asshole, fulfilling his deepest desire to serve and act as your dumb, loyal, and utterly submissive pet. 

And to think Johnny initially planned to put the collar on you.