#my brain will only let me write exactly what i want more or less

[invisiblegarters]

This is not something I would normally reply to because the one time when I was stressed into sleeping about 2 hours a night over the state of my stupid country and thus had less impulse control than usual aside, getting into these kinds of discussions isn't really my thing.

But the thing is, what made me stick my hand in the hornet's nest and shake it around a bit wasn't just stress and lack of sleep. It was because for an entire year I've been watching the same "crit" go by and boggling more and more, until finally I was just in the exact right headspace to be unable not to say something.

I like crit. But I like good crit. Even if I don't agree with it, often good crit can make me look at something I enjoy in a different way, or help me bolster my own arguments for or against. Good crit gets my brain fired up, helps me better analyze what I am watching and why it does or doesn't work for me, and overall makes the experience more enjoyable.

But what I have been seeing this year is not what I would call good crit. What it has been is a bunch of people who were dissatisfied with a show that they assumed was doing a bunch of things that it never was and instead of shrugging and going "not for me," they created a bunch of BS reasons why they were right all along, actually, only capitalism thwarted the true vision and forced "typical BL" on us instead.

And even that I could deal with - people will believe what they want and often all the rest of us can do is roll our eyes and move on - except that these people both misrepresent information to bolster their arguments and have a big enough following that that misinformation becomes accepted as truth.

Well, it isn't. I might not be an intelligent or articulate meta person. I may not be able to write in a way that engages people and makes them think that I have smart things to say and should be listened to. But what I am capable of is thinking critically enough not to just believe what someone asserts as truth without looking into it myself. I am also capable of realizing that one of these misrepresentations (and one that sticks in my personal craw the most) - that things were actively being changed in the above Show That Shall Not Be Named - couldn't possibly be accurate. Moved? Sure. Cut out? Absolutely. But actively changed to make a different story from the one originally intended, as some people would have us believe? Not a chance. No way they had enough money or time for that, and even five minutes of seriously thinking about it should have been enough for everyone to get that.

And it's not the only time they've taken something the showrunners have said and deliberately misconstrued it to fit their own narrative.

The show was always going to be exactly what it was. We were never promised the show in their heads. And frankly, I don't think I would have liked that show.

But for whatever reason, they can't accept that they were wrong, and now they're so mad that they're letting this color every other show they watch (that doesn't involve the cps that they like, which are exempt somehow from the same criticism they keep pulling out for the cps they don't. Weird, that). Not only are they doing that, they're heavily implying (and often outright stating) that the only reason for people not to agree is that they're mad their faves are being criticized. They are so convinced of their own superior thinking that they've deluded themselves into believing that this is the only reason that someone might disagree. And okay, that kind of thing gets my back up, even though I wish it wouldn't. Oh, to be more chill (I'm working on it).

Complaining about the structure of a show is one thing. So is feeling like the writing is lazy. But claiming that the reason for this is because official cps are killing creativity is absolutely ridiculous, and in my opinion should be called out as such. Romances wind up with the main couple together. It's a staple of the genre. It wouldn't matter if it starred official cps or not, at the end of the show the leads wind up together. That's just how romance works. No one has to like it, but trying to claim that it is anything but a "fault" (so to speak) of the genre itself is absolutely silly (like please, I beg you, watch more stuff. Watch enough of any genre and you're going to have this kind of thing). So is continuously deciding that a show should explore your pet themes and then getting mad when it doesn't do that, often with every indication that it never intended to do so in the first place. That's not what I call criticism, or at least not the kind that has any merit. That's just throwing an extended tantrum.

Don't you think this all comes down to the fact that people watch fiction, romance or anything else, for different reasons and so, they also engage with it in different ways? Criticism is just a way to engage with something. Just like giffing, fanart or writing any kind of meta, positive or negative. People will engage with media in their own way. If they didn't like the genre as a whole, they wouldn't watch it at all, much less take the time to write a post about it.

I think you’re underestimating how many people on the internet get joy out of ruining other people’s fun. If they say they’re doing it out of love for the genre, I’m certainly not going to argue with them—even if that relationship does seem a bit abusive to me. People can interact with media in any way they wish to do so. It only becomes my problem when these blatant lies and delusions start popping up in the main tag, presented in a pseudo-intellectual format that makes them seem like facts instead of opinions. Since these people have chosen to expose the whole fandom to misinformation by putting it in the main tag, I’m going to start saying something about it because I think people deserve to see a counter-argument written in good faith by someone actually enjoying the show, the genre, and the production company making it.

This ridiculous argument about how CPs are ruining the genre has persisted for over a year now and I’m tired of just sitting back and letting misinformation go unchecked. There are plenty of meta writers on here that present their criticisms in such a way that even if I disagree, it’s not offensive. There’s just a certain segment of this fandom that not only criticizes the show, but comes up with conspiracy theories to support their dislike instead of simply saying that it’s not to their taste—and then continues to do so every week for 12 weeks. It’s absolutely exhausting having to spend time blocking people being rude in the tag instead of just enjoying what I came there to enjoy.

And I also think these people should take some time to examine their own biases and ask themselves why it’s only Thai shows they’re criticizing? Why it’s only romances? Why it’s only certain actors or certain production companies? Because it is.

[thedeerman]

All of these things are in the works, but I’m curious what parts people are actually most interested in! If it’s something I didn’t list, please comment what it is!

[kamitv]

▷ First Time?

Synopsis . When you get paired with the campus asshole, Sukuna, for a project, the last thing you expect to learn about him is that he’s a damn virgin. Nor did you expect to be the one to change that. / Pairing . virgin!Sukuna x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, oral sex (m!receiving), premature ejac, non-curse college au, dirty talk, pet names, degrading, porn w plot, teasing, taunting, filth, etc. / wc . 6k

A/N: ty to the nonnie on my main who asked if I’d ever write virgin!jjk men :3 [MDNI]

Who would’ve thought?

Of all people, Sukuna, a virgin? It just didn’t make sense.

He was this stand-offish asshole who most people respected out of pure fear. He didn’t exactly do parties and yet you could always find him at one. He’d always have some chick on his arm or even in his lap so, in what world would anyone with a brain assume he’s actually never been inside a woman before?

And to make his lack of game all the more unbelievable, he’s even rumored to have a big dick— it’s like some overly well-known campus fact about the guy.

So, again, what reason would anyone have to think the guy was a virgin?

Certainly not you, of course. And you don’t expect to be the only person to find out such information either.

The way you find out is probably even more bizarre than the fact itself. You and him had little to no reason to ever interact with each other. You weren’t some shy nerd who holed herself up in her room all day or anything but you weren’t much of the party type other.

You were stuck somewhere in the middle of all that, vicariously living through some of your friends who had better things going for them.

As such, there was no real reason for you and Sukuna to cross paths. He never even had a reason to acknowledge your existence until the two of you are paired up together for a project in the one class you happen to take together.

——

The background noise is the chatter of your fellow classmates and their own project partners, you find your partner grumbling out a low, “What?” In response to your last statement, having hardly heard a thing you said.

“I said,” You huff, sitting beside the man in question as today marks week two of you being paired up with him for this semester’s project, “We should be meeting up outside of class too. We could get his knocked out in like a day if you just-“

“Oh that,” Sukuna cuts off casually. Seated all slouched back in his seat, his legs sprawled out in that signature manspread of his— he rolls his eyes at your little reminder, “You said somethin’ about that last week.”

You speak through slightly gritted teeth, fighting the headache he’s about to give you from this conversation alone, “All the more reason for you to take it into consideration. The faster we get this done, the less we have to deal with each other.”

As you say that, you glance at him only to find his eyes directly on yours already. He’s got such lazy posture, his head tilted slightly whilst he gazes at you so intently, and his big muscular arms folded across his chest. Even wearing a black hoodie and gray sweats, he still looks as attractive as ever— mean low-lidded crimson eyes locked on yours, tattooed face so beautifully defined, and rosy lips pulled into such an uninterested little frown.

Up until your words hit his ears properly, “The less we have to deal with each other, huh?” Sukuna repeats, narrowing his eyes even further at you, “You barely even know me ‘nd yet you want nothing to do with me already.”

“I know enough about you, Sukuna,” You say with a sigh, “And you hardly contribute to this project as is. Which only proves that everything they say about you is probably true.”

He arches a brow, his interest piquing, “And what exactly do people say about me?”

You let off a light scoff, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“But I don’t know,” Sukuna tells you honestly, maroon eyes boring into yours.

You stare for a moment as you try to decipher whether or not he’s being honest right now. How does he not know what people say about him? Everyone talks about his brooding personality very openly.

“They say you’re an ass,” You eventually say to the man.

To which his lips twitch into a slight smirk, “And you believe that?”

“Seeing as I’ve asked you to, at the very least, type your name on this document and you haven’t even done that yet,” You scoff, “Yes.”

The two of you mildly glare at one another for a moment before Sukuna leans up in his seat. Breaking eye contact for just a moment to look at his laptop, he swiftly moves to open up that shared document of yours and types his name out with a heavy sigh.

After which, he’s slouching back again and looking at you, “Don’t believe everything people tell you, woman.”

You roll your eyes at him, “What? Are you not fond of rumors? That still doesn’t negate the fact that you’re an assho-“

“When do you want to meet up?” Sukuna grumbles out almost reluctantly, watching the way you pause and swallow thickly as he catches you off-guard.

He’s almost even intrigued by how quickly you bounce back, despite being caught by surprise, “Friday. Are you free?”

“Unfortunately,” He grumps.

You give him a little shrug, “Good. I’ll see you then.”

And that was it. That was how each and every interaction with you and Sukuna went. Bickering back and forth about him not doing shit to help you with something that’ll affect your grade majorly, criticizing you about being too focused and needing to relax every now and then, and even calling you a stuck-up little brat one time— it was safe to say, you and Sukuna didn’t get along too well.

Not that you minded anyway. He wasn’t your first partner to care little about their grade so, you knew how to deal with these kinds of people by now. Typically, you indulge yourself in their craving to ‘relax’ just once and then they promise to start helping. You’ve gone down that path before and it’s worked for you then so you assume things will go the same way with Sukuna.

Plus, you guess you can give him a slight pass for his asshole attitude, at least he has a pretty face to look at. Dark ink always decorating his awfully smooth skin, deep dark yet beautiful ruby-shaded eyes boring into whatever it is his focus on, and broad shoulders looming over your smaller figure every time he stands in front of you— you can't help but feel both attracted and intimidated by the man.

——

Which is exactly why when you open your apartment door for the scheduled meetup that Friday to crane your head up at him, you’re swallowing thickly to settle your nerves. You’ve never been alone with the man so of course you’re a bit nervous.

Especially with the way he gazes down at you like that’s exactly where you belong: beneath him. His eyes are filled to the brim with intensity and yet he’s only just set them on you. Wearing a noticeable black compression shirt and those signature gray sweets of his, he almost appears as though he’d just come from the gym.

And just as you take in his appearance, he very openly takes in yours— his eyes raking over your body and taking in every single inch of you. After all, just as it was your first time alone with him, it was his first time seeing you dress so comfortably. He doesn’t even try to hide the way he stares at your tits peeking out from the rather thin spaghetti-strap top you were wearing, his eyes soon trailing down slowly to those tauntingly short shorts you had on.

“So,” Sukuna swipes his tongue over his lips and cocks his head to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes yet to lift from your legs, “Are you gonna stare at me all day or are you gonna let me in?”

You blink out of whatever little daze you were in, having found yourself gazing at his chest far longer than you meant to. It was right in front of your face after all, how could you look anywhere else? And his shirt was so damn tight, the fabric hugging his well-toned body perfectly, so much so that you swore you could make out piercings on his-

Sukuna leans forward suddenly, his face nearing yours to gain your full attention, “If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna assume you invited me over for something else-“

“Sorry,” You chirp out as you clear your throat and awkwardly step back a bit to let him in, “You can come in.”

Nodding, Sukuna slips by you and you shut your apartment door behind him. Then, you’re quick to lead him over to your living room where you’d previously been working on your project.

The two of you are hasty to take a seat on your couch, both of you only a few inches apart from one another whilst you lean toward your coffee table and log into your already open laptop. Sukuna’s eyes are all over you as always, studying your side profile, your intent focus on the screen in front of you, and even the way you-

“Did you even bring anything?” You suddenly ask before you glance at the man.

Sukuna quickly meets your gaze, ripping his eyes off of wherever they’d been previously, “Was I supposed to?”

“Sukuna,” You sigh out, “Please tell me you’re joking right now.”

He swallows at the mere sound of his name rolling off your tongue in that scolding tone of yours— he’s heard such a tone from you time and time again and yet, for whatever reason, it never seems to annoy him. 

“I’m not.” He says plainly.

“How are we supposed to work on this if you-,” You cut yourself off and decide not to even attempt arguing with him. Arguing won’t change the fact that he showed up with nothing. “Just uhm,” You glance elsewhere for a second before an idea comes to mind and you place your laptop down and stand up, “Stay here.”

Sukuna doesn’t say anything. He merely watches as you huff and walk off, swiftly exiting the living room and disappearing down a nearby hall. He swears he finds himself looking at you a bit more than intended. Especially as you walked off, his eyes dropping to your ass and those damn shorts of yours.

Even when you’re out of his sight, he still finds himself staring in the direction of which you went, almost unable to look away for whatever strange reason.

That lasts for a few minutes until he snaps out of it and leans back against the couch, tossing his head back and letting out a long sigh. You soon return to find him with an arm stretched along the back of the couch, his legs spread as usual, and his eyes up on the ceiling.

He doesn’t even notice you’ve returned until he feels something placed in his lap. Looking down, Sukuna finds your laptop kindly set on top of him. To which his brows furrowed in confusion and he looked at you to see you sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table with a paper and pencil in front of you.

“What’s this?” Sukuna scoffs.

You don’t even spare him a glance as you begin writing something down, “How we’ll get things done.” He opens his mouth to say something but then you’re looking back at him with a glare, “I already organized the parts of this project that you have to do so, since it’s on my computer, you can work on that and I’ll work with what I remember.”

You wholeheartedly expected him to find something about this to disagree with you on but, to your surprise, he simply nods and redirects his focus to your laptop immediately.

And then, the two of you work exactly like that for the remainder of that little study session.

——

Sukuna’s not terrible to work with when it’s just you and him. If anything, he’s rather cooperative and a lot smarter than he leads on. 

Which is why a solid two hours of productivity flies by surprisingly smoothly with him. If you asked him a question, he answered. Told him to do something, he’d say something snarky, and then do whatever it is you’ve instructed anyway.

It all went so perfectly up until he let out a really heavy sigh, “Alright, I’ve had enough for this.” Sukuna says casually.

He’s been repeating a similar phrase every thirty minutes or so but he usually gets right back to work after getting ignored by you. This time though, you get the feeling he’s serious when he pushes your laptop off of his lap and places it forward on the coffee table.

It’s then that you frown, “Oh c’mon, we were getting so much done,” You comment as you glance back to him.

He shrugs, “I can’t keep looking at that damn screen, it’s giving me a headache.”

“Of course it is,” You utter sarcastically, rolling your eyes whilst you place your pencil down and throw your arms up to stretch, “Fine then, we can take a break.”

Sukuna’s brows lift in surprise. He didn’t expect you to listen to him, “Good.” He hums, “I was getting bored as well.”

You scoff, “Were you?”

“Yeah, can we do something else?” He asks.

Turning around, you rotate the way you’re sitting so that you’re facing him and your back is resting against your coffee table. “Like what?” You muse, meeting his low-lidded gaze.

“Talk,” Sukuna says.

That’s it? He wanted a break to talk to you? Your eyes are narrowing at him before you even realize, “Talk?” You repeat with a scoff, “Seriously?”

He nods, “Mhm.”

“What do you wanna talk about, Sukuna?” As you ask him that, you watch the way his eyes casually slide down to your lips.

Does he mean to be this indiscreet with his looks? Or is he eyeing you down like that on purpose?

The man shrugs, “Anything outside of fuckin’ school.”

You laugh at that, “Okay, I can work with that.”

He tilts his head at you and licks his lips, “Yeah?” Something about your little laugh threw him off. 

“Mhm,” You hum as you look down at your hand, fiddling with your nails a bit, “The rumors… are they true?”

Thrown off yet again, Sukuna’s brows pinch together. “Rumors?” He echoes in a genuinely confused tone, “What rumors, woman?”

The sound of your scoff makes him stiffen in his seat. Almost in an instant, the atmosphere had changed suddenly. “C’mon, don’t play dumb,” You tease, lifting your gaze to him again, “The rumors about you.”

He gives you a perplexed look and it’s almost as though you could see the gears in his head turning. “If you know something, say it.” He demands.

You sigh, “Sukuna, do you seriously hear nothing people say about you?”

Sukuna shrugs, “I don’t care enough to remember. So what is it? What rumor?”

You’re just curious. You swear that’s all it was. And, naturally, since he seemed to have warmed up to you— of course you wanted to know if that rumor about his dick was true. You’re both adults and it’s just a silly question. Plus, with the way he’s been looking at you all afternoon, you’re sure he won’t mind answering you with a simple yes or no.

Glancing to the side, your shoulders lift a bit, “It’s uh, rather intimate.” You hush out.

Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, “Intimate?? An intimate rumor about me?”

His emphasis on himself makes your eyes flick back over to him. “Yeah, are you sure you don’t know what they say about you??” You ask again.

“Positive. Now speak, what is it they say?” Sukuna huffs impatiently, even more curious about this little rumor after the mention of it being intimate. After all, he’s never-

“People say you have a big dick,” You utter way too casually.

So nonchalantly that it makes him choke, a choke you don’t mess with the way he clears his throat and sits up a little. “What?” He rasps out.

You bat those stupidly false innocent eyes at him, “I didn’t stutter,” Your tone dips into something different and he catches every bit of it, “People say you have a big dick, is it true?”

Sukuna clears his throat and for the first time, he glances away from you. Then, he opens and closes his mouth, contemplating his next words carefully before they soon fall from his lips, “You wanna find out?”

His offer spurs a shift in your seat from you as you scoot closer to him ever so slightly, “You wanna show me?” You ask boldly, your tone direct, and not even a flicker of hesitation present.

“Do I want to-,” Sukuna pauses, his eyes scanning the entirety of your seated frame as you inch closer to him, “What?” He huffs, swallowing thickly.

You move to stand on your knees and lean forward to the couch, soon propping your chin up on your palm as you look at him, “Show me,” You chuckle, “I asked if you wanted to show me, Sukuna.”

He blinks, “Show you my cock?”

You shrug, “Yeah.”

The air is so thick right now, Sukuna’s not sure how exactly he can play this off without making a fool of himself. He gulps yet again, only to watch as your eyes start to drop down along his body.

“Stop,” He rushes out, “Keep your eyes up here. On mine,” He commands in a low tone, earning your gaze once more.

And then it’s quiet for a moment. He’s staring at you and you’re obediently keeping your eyes up on his. Sukuna hates it but he doesn’t know what to say or do from here. The last thing he wanted was for you to find out his little secret. 

It’s like he was waiting for a fucking pin to drop, something to break the silence. Yet, his mind was going blank and words were failing him at the moment. He’s flirted with women before, plenty of times actually, effortlessly even— but for whatever reason, as you sit there with those stupidly pretty eyes staring at him, his mind simply flakes on him.

He’s like that for a minute longer until you move. So subtly too, sliding a hand to his thigh, leaning forward slightly, batting your lashes at him, “Sukuna?” You whisper.

His hips are rolling upward slightly at the sound of his name alone. “W-What?” He stammers, mentally cursing himself a thousand times over.

“If you don’t wanna show me you can jus’ say no,” You hum, smiling a bit, “Y’know that, right?”

He scoffs, “Of course I know that, woman.”

“If you know that then…” Your fingers lightly squeeze his thigh and you tilt your head, “Are you gonna tell me or show me whether or not those rumors are true?”

Something simply clicks inside Sukuna’s head. Rose-tinted lips cracking into a smirk, the man spreads his legs further and slouches back into the couch, “Find out for yourself since you’re so curious.”

Your eyes go wide, “What?”

Sukuna scoffs lightly, moving one of his arms from the back of the couch and placing his hand over his crotch. Of course, your gaze sinks down to his veiny hand, watching as he palms a stupidly large bulge in his sweats.

Your breath hitches a bit, “I-I-“

You don’t even get the chance to get it out before he’s cutting you off, “C’mere,” Sukuna hums in that low voice of his.

“What?” You whisper.

You and him make eye contact again and he nods his chin toward the space in between his legs. Nothing can really explain why you follow his gesture and quickly find yourself sitting in between his legs, taking a deep breath as you settle your hands on his thighs.

Sliding your touch up and up and up until your fingers graze his hand. The same hand that was resting on top of that aching bulge of his.

Sukuna slowly lifts his hand up and away, relaxing his arm on the back of the couch again as he stares down at you. Cocking his head to the side, “Well? Feel it.” He huffs.

You don’t even hesitate. Trailing your fingers upward carefully until you feel the outline of his cock beneath your fingertips, gulping as you drag your hand up to cup his length in your hand firmly, and smirking at the way his cock twitches furiously beneath your small touch.

Sukuna’s mouth falls open for a second but you’re too engrossed in feeling him to notice. He lets out a shuddered breath as he watches the way you grope his steadily growing erection. His head even tosses back and his fingers dig into the couch for a moment.

“It is big,” You whisper to yourself, your words only making him twitch more within your hand.

“Fuck,” Sukuna grits out lowly, hips unconsciously lifting to press himself further against you.

His curse earns your attention. You quickly glance up to him and see the way he’s got his head tossed back, Adam's apple bobbing with every heavy gulp he takes, and his chest rising and falling rather quickly.

You lift your hand carefully and decide to test something out. Slowly, you lean forward and just barely press your lips against his clothed cock.

Sukuna’s whole body reacts. He gasps louder than he means to and he’s weaving his fingers through your hair faster than he realizes, palming your scalp as he quickly looks down at you. “T-The fuck are you doing? Huh?” He huffs while gripping onto your hair.

You lift your head a bit but he keeps you in place, despite his question to you. “I just…” You’re not exactly sure you can explain yourself.

And by this point, Sukuna doesn’t think he cares enough to hear an excuse from you, “…You what? You wanna see it?”

All you can do is give him a little nod before he moves his free hand to the drawstring of his sweatpants. Then you're quick to help him tug them down until his boxers are revealed to you— a noticeable dampness in the fabric right where his leaking tip is. Was that because of you?

Before you can dawn on your own questions, Sukuna’s moving to tug his cock out. And fuck is he even bigger revealed before your eyes. With an upward curve, such an angry flushed tip, precum dripping from the slit of his fat cockhead, veins decorating his shaft and-

Shit, you were drooling. How’d you get like this again?? Ah, who cares?

“Sukuna,” You breathe out, ripping your eyes away from his cock just to look up at him.

He was almost panting, dark maroon eyes pouring down into yours, face flushed with different shades of red and pink, his lips parted softly— hell, he looked like he was in heat or something.

Gulping before he answers you, Sukuna clears his throat and his voice is already husky, “What?”

You shift against the floor, your hands relaxing against his large thighs, “Can I-“

“Yeah,” He cuts off. Lord knows if you got that question out he was going to lose his damn mind.

You raise a brow and lean forward, keeping your eyes on his while your lips near his tip, “Yeah?”

The last thing you get from him is a nod before you’re parting your lips. And from that moment forward, it all goes downhill. Everything from the way you’re sitting in between his legs to that initial connection of your plush lips against his drooling cock had Sukuna’s mind spinning.

He’s never been sucked off before. Hell, the farthest he’s gone as far as sexual activities are concerned is a little bit of dry humping. But this? Oh hell, this was his first time and he had zero idea how he was going to keep that information away from you.

Especially when he feels your tongue slip from between your lips and swirl around the head of his cock, kittenly lapping up that slim layer of precum sitting so prettily on his tip. 

“Oh f-fuuck,” Sukuna groans huskily, the hand on your head gripping tighter.

You pull away from him slightly just to take in his expression and the way he tosses his head back. It was almost cute to you. The last thing you expected was for him to be so damn sensitive, you hardly did anything.

His sensitivity only worsens as you finally start wrapping your lips around his cock, feeling him throb when you sink your mouth down on him. Sukuna’s jaw goes slack and his brows twist up. He tries his best to hold it in but he can’t help but moan at the way you leisurely suck on half of his lengthy cock.

Your saliva wets up the rest of his shaft and you make up for what your mouth hasn’t reached yet with your hand, stroking him lightly whilst you take the rest of his girth in and out of your mouth. Rolling your tongue around him, pulling off just to messily spit and kiss on his blushing tip, and slobbering all over him— Sukuna almost fucking kicked something with how good your mouth felt around him.

He’s used his hand and other shit before but holy fuck, nothing, and he means nothing compares to that damn mouth of yours. The way you look with his cock stuffed right in between those lips he’s been staring at for God knows how long— your lips all slick with spit, eyes rolling back the deeper you take him, and tongue sticking out every time you pull your mouth off of him.

You soon slip your mouth off of him and start jerking him off, focusing your tongue on his tip and slithering the wet muscle in between the slit of his cock, lathering your tongue up with his glistening precum. 

The sound of Sukuna groaning makes you look up at him, finding his eyes on yours again. He’s panting, trying his best to look like this wasn’t phasing him but failing in every way with how flushed his face was. 

Your tongue sticks out and your hand continues to slide up and down his cock as you tap his tip on your tongue, making his brows twist up. 

He bites back a throaty sound, “Hah… damn brat,” Sukuna huffs out as if to… degrade you? 

You almost find it cute how clearly inexperienced he is, spitting a fat wad of spit onto his pretty wet tip and then smiling at him, “Sukuna,” You coo, your hand gripping his shaft tighter, “Is this your first time?”

He instantly looks off to the side, the veins in his neck and along his jawline tensing as he grits his teeth. Since he decides to ignore your little question, you take it a step further and slide your hand down his cock, gripping his thick base firmly before taking him into your heavenly warm mouth again.

His expression breaks completely, “Oh shit,” Sukuna moans, his hips bucking up into your mouth as you slide him deeper into your mouth than you did before.

Then his hand is pushing your head down further on instinct and he’s subtly rutting his hips up. You lift your head up despite his constant pushing, soon causing your head to bob up and down whilst you suck him off skillfully.

“Jus’ like that,” Sukuna suddenly groans and you moan around his cock in reaction. To which he keeps giving your mouth mindless little thrusts, “Don’t s-, agh, stop.”

Sucking him deeper and deeper before you move your hand completely, you suck in a deep breath of air through your nose, open up the very back of your throat, and sink all the way down, your lips meeting his pelvis as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Sukuna kicks something. Probably your coffee table with the way one of his legs extends out so suddenly, a choked-out groan ripped from his throat as your little move was all it took for him to cum. And it’s so much too, hot thick ropes of cum spurting down your throat, his hand holding onto your head for dear life whilst a moan of your name rolls off his tongue.

You’re still sucking too, pulling up only to swallow what he’s gifted you and then stick your tongue out. Laying it flat against his tip, you leisurely lick at him as if to beg for more and now the man’s pushing your head away for the first time.

When you lift your eyes up to him again, you notice he’s got his tattooed arm over his mouth and his lashes are batting softly at you. For such a big man, he was so ridiculously cute right now. Panting, sweating, cursing under his breath as if you couldn’t hear him.

“Yeah,” Sukuna utters suddenly, clearing his throat, “That was… my first… time. I uh-“

“Do you want more?” Is the last thing you asked him before you were sitting back on your heels and he was stumbling to his feet.

You had to guide him through it of course but, Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to stuff your face full of his cock again. You take him so kindly too, obediently sitting there with your hands gripping his thighs for support with every careful thrust of his hips.

He was trying to be gentle with you at first. Partially because he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, and also because he just loved the initial entry into your mouth. Over and over, Sukuna slid his dick in and out of your mouth like he was possessed, addicted to the feeling of you greedily sucking on him.

He was still sensitive from his first orgasm but his cock had yet to go down— twitching inside that sloppy mouth of yours, aching against your tongue, and dripping into the depths of your throat. Sukuna wasn’t much of a talker but he damn sure let out a plethora of grunts and groans.

They were so husk too, coming from deep within his chest, some getting caught in his throat when he felt your tongue flick against a specific vein on the underside of his cock. His fat tip knocked into the back of your throat with a single heavy thrust before his hands were latching onto the sides of your head.

Again, he’s not much of a talker but, something seems to come over him all at once because soon he’s got his gaze locked down on the messy sight of you and he’s huffing out words before he realizes. “Eyes up here, c’mon, hah… look at me,” Sukuna grunts.

Your eyes are completely glossed over as they flutter up to him. A moan vibrates against his skin as you make such intimate eye contact with the man, feeling his hips pick up.

Sukuna nods, “Good girl,” He praises in a low purr, and fuck does that do wonders for you because your legs are squeezing together more than they were before and you’re whining against him. “Fuck, y’like that?” He huffs, earning a sloppy lil’ nod from you.

He then feels you hum, “M-Mhm.” And he’s got chills slipping up his spine in pleasure.

Cracking a lazy, lopsided, and almost fucked-out little smirk, Sukuna scoffs, “Yeah? Fuck, behind all those g-glares ‘nd-, agh, scolding me… this is all you wanted, hm? A throat full of cock?”

His words had you whining again, fluttering your lashes at him as your fingertips dug into his thighs a little. Sukuna eases his hips back slowly, tipping his head to the side as he gently caresses the side of your face with his thumb.

“Messy girl,” He hums deeply, biting his lower lip at the way you’re just drooling for more and more as he pulls himself out of your mouth completely. “Jus’ look at this face,” Sukuna chuckles, “Y’look like a slut cryin’ like that— it’s cute.”

Blinking, you hadn’t even realized you had a tear or two sliding down your face. Your mouth remains open for a second before he moves to rub his tip against your plump lips, smearing your spit and his cum all over the damn place with a little grin on his face.

“‘Kuna…” You whisper, earning a quirk of his brow, “I can’t believe you’re a virg-“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” He grunts, moving a thumb to your chin to widen how open your mouth is for him, “Jus’… keep sittin’ there lookin’ pretty f’me,” Sukuna says.

You roll your eyes at him and all he can do is smile, pushing his hips forward again and easing his cock in between your lips. He slides in slowly until you can feel him pressing right against the back of your throat. To which he keeps himself there for a second, testing that gag reflex of yours and watching your eyes water.

Moving his hand back to the top of your head, he buries his fingers in your hair, “So fuckin’ sexy like this,” Sukuna compliments, feeling you moan in response, “M’gonna cum again, stay j-just like that,” He breathes out heavily, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull before he’s throwing his head back.

And as if to coax his orgasm out, you carefully move a hand to cup his balls, sucking on his cock as best as you can and earning an accidental sound from his throat. The second your palm is felt against him, the moment he feels your tongue slicking against him, Sukuna whines.

Then his thighs are tensing and he’s groaning loudly as if to cover up the sound that just left his lips, filling your throat with his seed and then tugging your mouth off of him with a quick pull of your head. You’re quick to swallow for yet a second time, letting out a needed cough after the fact while he stumbles back just a bit, his calves hitting the couch.

“Vixen,” Sukuna growls.

You clear your throat and send a smile his way, “Not my fault you cum easy.”

Sukuna’s slow to sit back down on the couch to catch his breath, “Tell anyone about this ‘nd I’ll-“

“Oh,” You suddenly purr, cutting him off as you lift yourself up from the ground. He watches with slightly widened eyes as you move to straddle him, “Don’t tell me you thought we were done?”

He’s at a loss for words all over again, his confidence suddenly getting caught in his throat and flying out the window. Your hands slip to his broad shoulders and you lean forward a little.

Sukuna’s hands shakily find their way to your waist as he stares up at you, “You want more?”

You smirk, tilting your head at the dumbfounded male, “Don’t you?” You ask in a sultry little whisper, making his sensitive cock twitch once more. “At the very least…” Your lips slowly near his and he’s losing his breath, “Taste yourself, Sukuna.”

And then your lips are on his and he’s taking your tongue into his mouth. His grip on your waist tightens before he pulls you flush against him, feeling your crotch press right against his cock that’s steadily twitching back to life.

The two of you share a heated and messy kiss, your hips carefully swaying against him to encourage his returning arousal. You can’t really use curiosity as an excuse anymore, can you?

Well, you can. And you do with the way your hands slide down to his chest, your fingers slipping over his nipples to find exactly what you’d been curious about. You flick your fingers over his piercing there and Sukuna lets out a low hiss, prying his lips from yours and sending you a glare.

Not only did that little move of yours make his cock spring up completely but, you also notice the frown on his face.

Smiling at him, “Sukuna…”

“Don’t.” He huffs.

“You have nipple piercings?” You end up asking anyway in a happy little tone.

He grits his teeth slightly, “…Obviously.”

Chuckling, you press a soft peck against his lips and whisper, “Can I see them?”

“No.” He replies.

Part two.

[ovaryacted]

PAIRING: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x f! reader || WC: 900 CW: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Missionary Position/Mating Press. Overstimulation. Mentions of sub-space. Logan is an endearing tease.

Alright...Y'all know I just had to. If it wasn't already evident based on my previous posts, Wolverine is rotting my brain and Hugh Jackman snuck up on me in my sleep and slipped into my head again. I had to get this out of my system before I went insane lmao, and don't worry, I have longer pieces in mind for claw daddy. When writing this, I also imagined the X-Men version of Logan cause I loved the og movies, so this isn't the variant Logan from the Deadpool movie but imagine whichever version tickles your fancy! Thanks to @ozarkthedog for helping me pinpoint his characterization btw. <3

At times, Logan knew he could be a lot to handle. Not that he would really give a fuck most days, but he became more conscious of his presence when he met you. Softer, much more pliant in comparison to him, covered in hard muscle and rugged tendons. You didn’t mind his intensity, much less his overbearing weight and heavy hand. In fact, you welcomed all of him and encouraged him to let loose and forget about his fears regarding how he handled you.

“I’m not made of glass, Logan. I can take it, trust me.”

You told him once, his eyes silently apprehensive as he glanced at you. He was always careful, always self-aware, and treated you with respect. You knew it would take much more convincing to get exactly what you wanted with your lover, who was too adamant about keeping Logan and Wolverine separated in your relationship. But just this once, you asked for his trust to try something else, something a little different.

Ultimately, you got what you wanted, but your curious ambition may have underestimated the situation.

Legs pinned above his broad shoulders, Logan’s hips hammered into you as he fucked you into the mattress. You’ve lost track of time since he pulled the first orgasm between your legs, the tip of his nose and upper lip covered in your slick, glistening under the dim lighting of your bedroom. He surprised you as he kept going, pulling another release out of you with the use of his thick fingers, and a third the moment he slipped his body into yours over and over again.

The back of your head lay limp against the crumbled pillow underneath, thighs shaking on impact and your body jolting upwards with every thrust Logan gave you. You didn’t have the energy to moan or cry out for him anymore, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, and your hands loosely held his flexing biceps.

You were lost, so far gone into pleasure, your brain wasn’t working anymore. The only thing on your mind was how the tip of Logan’s cock continued to hit that spot inside you with rehearsed precision, sending you further into that fuzzy headspace you seemed to enjoy. Your eyesight grew hazy, glossed over with tears on your lashline that began to fall down your warm cheeks. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt a comforting palm on your face, fingertips tapping along your cheekbone in an attempt to ground you back to reality.

“You still with me, sugar?” He asked, gravelly voice filtering through your ears. You whined in response, pupils losing focus as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Not a single thought in your head now, huh?” The creases on Logan’s temple became more prominent as he smirked, deep strokes intensifying the heat you felt deep in your gut.

“C’mon sweetheart, need to hear you say something. Talk to me.” His nose bumped into yours, huffs evident on your bottom lip as you struggled to find your voice.

“Logan...” Your voice was breathless and raw, trailing off into a meek whimper at the feel of his other hand squeezing your waist. Your eyes trailed up to his own, hazel irises and a toothy smile came into view, causing you to clench around him. 

“There she is. This too much for you?” He knew it was, knew that this was what you asked of him, to push your limits and bring you to the point of no return.

Your mind fizzled out, the grip on his arm waning as he continued to thrust hard into you. You gave him a feeble nod, finding enough stamina to provide an answer. It was too much; three orgasms in, and your entire body felt on edge and overstimulated, sensitive to anything that was done or said within the confines of your bedroom. And yet, you didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to eat your own words and make him proud.

“I know, honey, I know. Just giving you what you wanted.” Logan teased, his tone dripping with sarcasm that matched his cocky expression.

You could feel yourself getting closer, your thighs and knees shaking on either side of his head. He continued to move against you, the hand that was on your waist drifted between your legs, seeking out your throbbing clit. His thumb pressed into the engorged nub, rubbing it in diligent circles that sent your hips jolting away from him. Logan held on to one of your thighs, pressing it towards the mattress and bending forward to pin you in place. Your heart raced, your chest ached, and you tightened at the violent wave of your next climax threatening to wash over you. 

“Keep your eyes on me, right up here. I gotcha.” Logan said, maintaining the powerful drives of his hips until you came around him with a scream of his name, doing your best to hold his gaze. You sobbed at the feeling, a neverending spiral of bliss filling your body and making your head go blank.

“That’s right, atta girl. Keep looking at me.” He rasped, groaning loudly under his breath and leaning down to give you a bruising kiss, spilling into you and filling you to the brim not that long afterwards.

Sure, Logan can be a lot to tolerate sometimes, but you didn’t mind being the one to handle him.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[fuxuannie]

Hey girl, I LOVED YOUR HEADCANONS. Specifically abt Ken x Reader. If you can write about headcanons abt maybe when he's jealous? You covered literally almost everything in your headcanons, so I have nothing to request except this 😭

❥﹒kenji sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — part 2 of the kenji sato headcanons because i am totally normal <3

✦. love mail — i swear i promise ill post hsr guys 😞 just let me have my moment w sato i beg. i’ve decided to just do this req + add some more hehe. thank you sm requester for enabling my brain rot! (pls more ppl do so)

✦. tags — NO SPOILERS, fluff, dadgirl kenji, non-intimate/sexual kissing, kenji sato x reader, i wrote this w my brain off again ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ;; pls

Jealousy was not fun for the Kenji Sato. Before Emi came along and changed him, I can see him being the type to get jealous easily. Why would you need to talk to other people anyway? You had him, he was the best. He’d make it real obvious too, suddenly wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close, or the following days he has you wear his iconic jacket while you’re out with him so everyone knows exactly who and what you two are. If it gets to the better of him, he’ll get all pouty about it. He wants all your attention, your eyes all over him and him only. Maybe even hands but that’s a different thing. But I think after Emi’s influence, it’s less possessive and he’s grown to trust you with others instead of letting his feelings get in the way. Of course he’s not immune to jealousy, but you notice it a lot less. It’s less suffocating for you and you’re grateful he’s grown. You did love the pouty face he’d make though, it was cute.

Now if you were jealous, which is really no surprise.. Kenji had thousands of admirers, he had gifts on his doorstep like every other day. He’ll do everything to prove and reassure you that you’re the only one who has his heart. He’ll post you on his social media, take you out on dates, all those things to wash your worries away. Lastly, he’ll hold you in his arms at night and whisper everything he loves about you. Everything you were silently insecure about, he loved. Every date you thought he forgot, he remembered. And to meet a guy like that? How lucky can you be? (He tells you he’s luckier of course. <3)

I think he’s a messy kisser for the most part 🧐. (Forgive me in advance for this part. I am not very good at these things.) When he can take his time, he’s slow and gentle. Genuinely just trying to show you that yeah, he loves you, so damn much. And he’s going to show that through his passion by taking things slow so you can really feel his devotion. Other times, because he’s always in a rush, he’ll do a messy but clearly desperate kiss. He doesn’t like leaving without one, and you can describe him kissing you like it’s his last, (because it’s really not a far-fetched guess considering his line of work) his hand behind your head and pressing your lips against his in an almost ravenous manner. He does give you a very quick kiss on the forehead and runs off after finishing, leaving you a little dazed.

He LOVES to take you out on night rides. If ever you get a little nervous/have a fear of motorcycles, he’ll talk you all the way through via the cardo he put into your helmet. He’ll take you to some nice cafes or restaurants around Tokyo, other time’s he’ll bring you to some favourite childhood spot of his. When you arrive, he’ll tell you about his mother and the memories he’s made in this very special spot. It warms your heart to see his expression be so fond when he talks about his childhood – he truly misses it.

Before you knew of Kenji’s identity, I think it would be funny if you hated Ultraman. You just LOATHED the guy, Kenji asked your thoughts on Ultraman on the first date and you went on a rant about how he threw your car at a Kaiju only to miss. (He felt so embarrassed). It would be funnier if afterwards, he began to actually do his job as Ultraman properly.. and avoided cars on your street and avenue. He wanted to make sure you didn’t utterly hate Ultraman before revealing that he was him.

It would be cute if you and him knew each other like, much earlier. And you called him Ken. And then he made that his alias while he was becoming an All-Star baseball player. :) He’ll brag about it all the time in interviews too, that you’re the reason he uses it. <3

He’s the typa guy to have a picture of you in his room, behind his phone case, in his wallet, in his car and literally anywhere he can get his hands on. He bought a polaroid camera just to take pictures of you, he could care less about the price of film or the camera itself.. he just wanted to have as many pictures of you as possible. He’ll brag about it to his baseball teammates too, considering he also keeps one in his pockets for good luck. :)

You're his goodluck charm. <3

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi! Can I have a croissant alongside a banana bread with a side of vodka shot with Toto Wolff please?

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? check out the menu! i write for more than just formula one so hit me with it! thank you to his anon for the lovely order and i hope you love it! this was a pleasure to write!! <3

croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + vodka shot (rough sex) served by toto wolff (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), horner!reader, daddy kink, daddy issues, yacht sex, references to lestappen, clothed male/naked woman

rumors were a dirty thing on the grid. they could hurt people and there were efforts to keep them from spreading too far. this was less of a rumor and more of an open secret that no one really acknowledged.

if they did, that meant having to know that chrisitan horner's daughter was sleeping with toto wolff.

you liked toto, you had for some time. there was something about him that drew you in. those large hands, that smile, how determined he was to his job. he was a dedicated man.

just like he was dedicated to making you feel good in all aspects.

it was summer break for formula one, and while your father was in england for the time being. you were in monaco under the guise of seeing friends. your father was hesitant to let you go away for so long, it was a long time away.

"be safe. not too much partying. i need you to call me or at least text me. and if any of those driver boys try to get too close, do not hesitate to hit, punch or whatever."

you nodded as you held you carry on bag close to your chest, "i know, daddy. don't worry!" it wasn't even like you had any interest in any of those drivers, older than you were like old man and younger than you were like annoying younger brothers.

plus, you were already taken.

not that your father knew that. when you hugged him before getting into the car to the airport, you felt giddy. you were constantly texting toto when you got on the phone. thankfully the plane ride wasn't too long and your loving boyfriend met you at the airport in nice.

you giggled and ran into the man's arms.

it was a beautiful sunny afternoon when toto took you out on the boat. but his eyes were on more than just the water as he got everything ready. the sight of you in a white two-piece swimsuit.

you giggled when he took you by the waist, the boat still at the dock. you curled into him and held onto the front of his white button up.

he said to you as he took you by the chin, "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

you shook your head, "no, no. he thinks i'm with friends. i have to get verstappen to cover for me so my father will be less worried." you got on your tip-toes and kissed him on the lips.

"oh, so you told verstappen. i thought this was supposed to be a secret."

you tapped your lover's nose, "mutual agreement." you giggled, "if he tried to go to the press about us." you smiled brightly, "i have something ten times worse."

toto got closer to in your space and asked, "and what exactly what would that be?" curiosity got the best of him. usually he didn't get into the affairs of drivers, especially if they weren't working for him.

you shrugged, "remember that text message i got from him about that emergency, because he was stuck at that hotel near where we were?"

toto's hands rubbed your shoulders as he said, "yes. i remember that."

"yeah, he was stuck with leclerc." you smiled, "so, we have a mutual agreement to not spill the beans about the other." you leaned in to kiss toto on the lips, "my father may have a meltdown if he knew we were together. he'd burst a blood vessel if charles and max came out." but you said, "i'm happy for them." then kissed toto on the lips again.

the man wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him. he enjoyed the feeling of your lips against him. your body warmed from the sun against him.

you were barely clothed and he was still in a button up and pants. he placed a large hand on your ass and gave it a squeeze. he looked down at you and smiled, "you look very beautiful." he said to you.

"you're not too bad yourself. i thought about wearing that 'tacky' swimsuit i got online that one time just to rile you up." you giggled.

toto's lips were on your neck as he placed both hands on your ass. then gave the cheeks a squeeze, "i told you to not wear that."

it was a two piece swimsuit that was barely held together by strings. but the pattern on the cups and bottoms were of off-brand hot sauce bottles. toto had bought you so many nice swimsuits over your time together, so there was no need to wear it.

"but, why it shows how spicy i am." you winked.

he groaned and shook his head, "schatzi, please." he got you on the couch that was on the deck and had his hands on your hips. he leaned in and kissed you on the lips.

you two were in the semi-public, but it would be hard to see unless someone is right next to the boat. it only made it more erotic to you, the possibility of someone seeing.

you straddled his waist and rubbed your barely clothed pussy up against his lap which made the older man groan. he knew that this shouldn't be happening. it was bad enough he was wrapped around the fingers of a woman young enough to be his daughter, but on top that you were the daughter of one of his bigger rivals.

but the way you melted in his arms and rubbed against his cock made him feel otherwise, in all fairness, you were a legal adult who could make her own choices. even if your father was a little protective.

you kissed him square on the mouth and he took you by the hips. he rubbed his clothed cock up against you. you groaned a little bit and kissed him more.

"you're prettier when you're on top." he chuckled as he massaged your hips, "but you always know that you could end up underneath me at anytime. because you're a good girl, right? my good girl."

you nodded, feeling the heat in your cheeks. you rubbed up a little further and said, "of course, toto."

he reached and tapped your nose, "toto?" he tilted his head to the side, "there's another name you like to call me, no?"

you swallowed, "you're an insatiable old man."

he pressed himself further against you and replied, "i may be, schatzi. but i'm still your daddy."

you blushed further before you took off the swimsuit top and he groped at your breasts with his large hands. he groaned a little bit before he grabbed onto your hips then pushed down the bottoms off of you.

you were naked and working to get toto's cock out of his pants. you swallowed when you caught sight of it. you stroked it softly and he shuddered. all you had to say about his cock was that it was proportionate to his over six foot frame.

"i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." he said.

"mmm, please." you whimpered.

he rubbed the back of your head and smiled at you as you gazed at his cock. you two were out in the open, but had a bit of privacy to continue your little affairs. you kissed him deeply as he seated you onto his cock.

his jaw tensed at the feeling of your slick pussy around his cock. you were a dream, he couldn't believe that horner's daughter was the woman of his dreams. but as he groped your soft flesh, that didn't matter. all he wanted was you, he wanted the pretty little thing that bounces on his cock with ease.

you whimpered and dug your fingers into the meat of his shoulders. you rolled your hips up and down his cock. you said, "shit, daddy! ah! please"

he hissed through his teeth when his cock nudged against some of the softest parts of you. he groaned and buried his face into your breasts as he moved against you.

the two of you moved in time with each other. you could feel his teeth against your breasts which only turned you on more. he felt so good, it was like a little addiction.

"daddy, ah!" you whimpered.

"you're so beautiful." he said, "when i saw you on the track, it took everything in my power not to lead you away from your father and fuck the daylights out of you."

you groaned, "c'mon daddy, don't talk about him right now. i need your cock more than anything." you whimpered as you continued to move up and down on his cock.

it felt so snug inside of you and the pace you were using was rough. but it excited you, it made you hot all over. your breasts bounced in front of his face, it was very hot.

"fuck, please. you are so fucking good, daddy. it's not fair. no one else has ever been able to fuck me the way you do." you whined. your sexual history was primarily made up of interactions with toto.

he had to taught you most of what you knew about sex, at least in a pleasurable sense. he was the first person to make you cum. you thought that orgasms were reserved for you and your toys. but toto proved you wrong.

"i need you daddy." you whimpered.

"you have me." he replied as he continued to kiss you. his kisses lingered on your collarbones as you rode him. it felt so good. he was a divine lover.

you kept up your pace and felt the pleasure course through your body. your pretty tits bounced with each movement. you looked so nice naked, he loved the sight of your body.

you fit him like a glove.

his kisses were sloppy as you dug your nails into his shoulders. the pleasure bounced in his head as he moved against you. his cock hitting all the right places.

"please, daddy. i only want you. i never want to fuck anyone else."

he grabbed you by the head and said, "good, because no one else will ever touch you."

you soon climaxed, your voice filled the open air. but toto pulled you into a searing kiss, his grip on you was tight as he bullied his cock into your poor bruised cunt. you'd be feeling it all by morning. he continued his movements against you. you panted wildly and felt the flash of heat through your body. you moaned, "please, daddy."

"i've got you, schatzi." he said then groaned.

you slowed down your pace and rested against your lover's chest. you could feel his quick pulse. you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you. but it didn't take long before he started to thrust up into you again.

he groaned, "i need you more, schatzi." he gripped onto your hips tightly and moved up into you, "i only have a few weeks with you before you have to go back to your father. and i want to make sure i've touched all over you, and you don't forget my touch."

you moaned, you wouldn't mind going another round. or maybe another three rounds. after all, you needed your daddy. and you wanted to make sure you that you felt every inch of him in return.

when he groped your ass, you squirmed.

"please, daddy. i need you."

-

the end of the summer break spelled the dutch grand prix. hamilton and russell were sitting waiting for their time to get going. russell looked at his teammate and asked, "did you see wolff?"

"what's going on with him?"

russell stretched out on the couch and little, "saw him with horner's daughter during break. i passed by his boat and found her in next to nothing."

"ah, c'mon, now you're just spreading rumors!" hamilton got closer, "but i am curious to know what you apparently saw there, mate." rumors were a dirty thing on the grid, but sometimes the information was just too delicious. <3

[junkissed]

can't get you out of my head

member — fwb!vernon x f reader genre — smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count — 2.4k synopsis — so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging, creampie warnings — vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes — june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am

the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.

the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.

it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to. 

he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.

so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week. 

like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with any man you'd slept with before.

the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.

one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.

your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.

you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.

your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.

you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.

if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—

before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.

he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.

the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.

so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long. 

maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…

… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?

well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.

you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.

you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.

for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.

he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.

you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him. 

he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.

but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.

he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.

but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves. 

he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.

he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.

sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.

if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.

you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.

throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honesty, maybe he is.

he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.

you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.

it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.

you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.

without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.

you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own. 

the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.

he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.

you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.

this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.

he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.

"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.

it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.

it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too. 

"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"

your breath catches a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."

and just like that, things make sense. 

"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.

everything is so simple with hansol.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[felinecyan]

When The Night Calls

[Izuku Midoriya x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Your best friend leaving the hero course was enough to make you lose your mind. Especially when he’s suddenly standing across from you with nothing but a tired smile.

WC: 2978

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Vigilante!Deku

Please give this one extra love!! Somehow Midoriya is also very suspiciously difficult to write 👀 (Also, that 3rd-degree burn I gave my hand today is making me want to cry and throw myself in a river. Damn you, AO3 curse!! )

『••✎••』

Seeing that letter taped on your door broke you in more ways than one.

He had been gone for almost a week, but his note left behind made you realize just how long it'd been. How long he had left you with nothing more than a simple explanation of his departure and how it felt like he was never coming back.

The entire class had been on edge ever since. The note even threw Bakugo for a loop, as much as he would deny it. It had everyone wondering where he was and if he was okay.

It hurt you the most, though. He was the closest friend you had and the only one who truly understood your feelings.

But now he was gone.

Aizawa still continued teaching, but with Midoriya absent, the class just couldn't focus. He wasn't as good at making things seem less depressing or stressful, and his lectures were just boring without a green bush to lighten the mood. Or at least, you thought so.

You haven't been paying much attention lately, and you're too busy thinking of your missing friend. Your grades had been slipping, but it wasn't like anyone could blame you. Even if your friends could, they didn't say anything.

They had tried talking to you, but all you could do was give them a half-hearted smile, shake your head, and tell them, "I'm fine."

You weren't fine, and you knew that. But what were you supposed to do? Cry about it? It’s not like he’d come back if you did that.

Ironically, he did technically come back.

That day, Aizawa decided to keep the pain everyone felt about Midoriya buried beneath the surface, so he assigned you all a ten-page essay about the history of quirks.

So, here you were, writing a half-assed essay close to two in the morning. Kaminari was blowing up the group chat with memes and random jokes, but no one seemed to care or even respond.

Well, that was until Bakugo started yelling at him to stop texting because he was trying to sleep.

That went on for about a solid ten minutes, with everyone getting annoyed at the two idiots, but eventually, it died down.

You took a glance at the clock, which now read 2:12 a.m.

Sleep just couldn't come to you. Not now, not when your brain was filled with thoughts of the broccoli boi.

Then, there was a tiny patter against your window, almost like a knock. If it hadn’t been so quiet, you might not have heard it.

You ignored it at first, of course, but it continued, the knocks getting louder and more urgent.

Finally, you stood from your chair, deciding to investigate, but then, the knocking stopped.

You paused, confused, but shrugged, figuring you must have been hearing things.

Yeah, right, because hearing knocks on your dorm window at 2 a.m. is normal.

It turned out to be a good thing you got up because when you turned back around, a figure was directly behind you.

You jumped back in fear, letting out a short shriek before slapping your hands over your mouth. The side eye glance to your window, now open and curtain rustling in the slight wind, had you regretting not locking the damn thing.

The figure let out a small chuckle, his shoulders shaking a bit, and your heart rate sped up.

You could see the person a lot better now that they weren't in the shadows, but the moonlight still kept their face hidden.

All you could see was the curly mess of green hair and a large hoodie with a black mask pulled over the bottom half of their face.

But you didn’t have to see his eyes to know exactly who it was.

Your hands fell limply to your sides as the boy stepped closer. His hand reached the hood of his suit, slowly pulling it off, and his bright, emerald green eyes were staring straight into yours.

The only thing you could do was stare, dumbfounded.

"You did lock it, by the way," the boy's voice said. It sounded hoarse and scratchy as if he hadn't spoken in days. He probably hadn't.

Still, his intuition never failed.

You continued to stare, eyes wide and unblinking.

Midoriya's brow furrowed, a look of worry replacing his smile.

"They really should put more difficult locks on these things. I mean, honestly, all I had to do was twist it, and it opened. If I were a villain, then— hmph!"

Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, cutting him off. His eyes widened, surprised, but eventually, he relaxed, wrapping his own arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

"I was so worried," you said. You could feel your body starting to tremble, tears pricking your eyes. "Everyone was."

His arms tightened, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I know. I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. "I couldn't think of any other way."

You leaned back a bit enough to look him in the eyes. His tired, determined eyes.

"Wait, if you’re here… does that mean...?"

"I need my notebook." He kept his frown, and a sigh escaped his lips. "You have my old notes, right? I need those."

Oh.

That was it.

That was why he was back.

"Oh," You failed to hide the disappointment in your tone. "Right, uh, hold on…"

You pulled away, your eyes looking away from his. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head as you walked over to the desk, rummaging through the drawer.

Speaking of, your desk was an absolute disaster. If allowing students in your dorm room wasn't against the rules, Iida would have broken down your door a long time ago, screaming at the top of his lungs about how your room was in utter chaos.

Eventually, you found it. It was covered in sticky notes, and some of the pages were folded. Makes sense, considering the fact that you'd spent the last week reading it, studying, and hoping to find some kind of clue about his whereabouts and the league itself.

But even if it was in your hands, screaming for its owner, you hesitated. He was going to leave again, wasn't he? He wasn't going to stay.

But common sense hit you. You couldn’t force him to stay. It would be selfish of you to even ask.

You turned, walking back over to him. He was staring intently at the ground, his eyes narrowed in concentration, and he had a small frown on his face.

When you were a couple of feet away, he finally looked up, his hand reaching out for the book.

"Here," you said, trying not to let the sadness seep into your words. "Don’t mind the added stickies. Simpler terms, easier to understand, you know?"

"Right, thanks," he murmured, his eyes darting over the cover before flipping through the pages. His brows were scrunched together, and his fingers fiddled with the pages, flipping through them with a practiced speed.

He was so concentrated on the notebook that he didn't see your frown, and he didn't see the sadness in your eyes.

But then, he froze.

His eyes scanned over one of the pages, his fingers tightening around the spine of the book, and his breath hitched.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and his lips were set in a tight line.

"You read this?"

"Huh?" You blinked, taken aback. "Was I… not supposed to read it all?"

"What? No, no, I meant this page."

He flipped the book around, opening it to a certain page, and held it up for you to see.

Oh, yeah, his page. The one where he wrote about himself. Which, proudly, you knew most of what was written in it, anyway. Some things caught you off guard, but not many.

"Oh, yeah, I skimmed over it," you admitted.

"And... how much did you skim over?"

"Um... all of it? I mean, I'm in your hero notes, too. I took a lot more of my time on the page dedicated to me, I have to admit, but uh… What's the big deal?"

Midoriya looked at you, and his gaze was intense. "Did you… miss me that much that you would study my hero notes that closely?"

"Well, I wouldn’t say closely—"

He tilted his head in an almost sarcastic manner, and his eyes narrowed as he leaned over to point at a section in his notes.

A bright pink sticky note, covered in stars, was stuck onto the paper.

It was a small part, a very short paragraph, and you had given your analysis of him and not of his quirk either. It was a list of his attributes, his personality, and the type of hero he was.

To someone else, it would be pretty informative about what kind of person he was and what kind of hero he would be, but you both knew the true meaning behind the note.

Because it was all the things you missed about him.

"… oh, " was all you could say.

The air around you two suddenly became awkward, the silence becoming heavy.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

But, as expected, Midoriya broke the silence.

"I figured since you’re still awake, it must mean that you're working on homework or studying, and you wouldn’t do that at night if I weren’t gone," he began. "I thought that maybe it would be too soon to come back, or even that I should have stayed away, but, well, I really needed my notes, and, honestly, I wanted to see you, and—!"

He was rambling again. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, his brain spitting out more words than his mouth could.

At least he was still himself, you thought.

You decided to cut him off, placing your hand on his arm, and he jolted at the sudden contact, his head snapping back up to yours.

"I’m sorry," you said, looking down.

He looked confused, tilting his head. "What for? You have nothing to be sorry for; you didn't do anything wrong."

"No, I—" You cut yourself off, biting your lip, and looked away. You took a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm sorry," you started. "For not stopping you. For not coming with you. For not helping you. I had no idea what you were going through, and I was too worried about myself, and I didn't—"

"Hey, hey, stop," Midoriya said, placing his hand on your shoulder. You hadn't realized you were shaking. "This is my fight, okay? It's not yours, and I was the one who didn’t want to bring anyone else into this mess. This isn’t your fault, so please don’t beat yourself up about it."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." You looked back up at him, tears blurring your vision. "I don’t know how to help."

He was silent for a moment, but then, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you once again, and you buried your head in his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie.

"It's okay," he said. "I don’t expect you to know how to help, and I didn’t come here for your help. Well, technically, I did since you had my notebook, but I’m speaking on a—"

“I know, I know," you mumbled.

Another moment of silence, and then, he sighed, a puff of air brushing your ear.

"I'm not sure when I'll be back, if I ever will, but I promise," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear and his words making your heart skip a beat. "I promise we will be fine. We all will. Me, you, everyone else. It might take a while, but we will be okay."

You nodded, your grip on his hoodie tightening. This was the sound of a goodbye, and the finality of it terrified you.

"It’s just…" you mumbled, and his brow furrowed.

"Just what?"

You hesitated, a lump forming in your throat.

"What?" He repeated, pulling back to look you in the eye. "Please tell me."

You took a deep breath, swallowed the lump, and looked him in the eye.

"It's just that... You’re my not-alone buddy, remember?”

Midoriya froze, his eyes widening.

It was a little game you two had back when things weren’t so complicated. Back when you were just normal students.

You both struggled to make friends, so you made a pact. Obviously, that thought disbanded when everyone else got close, and now you all were pretty good friends, but the friendship between him and you was different. It was a bond between you two that was just special.

Not even ‘Kacchan’ could ruin that, as close as he and Midoriya grew.

You never called him Deku, even after Bakugo and the rest of the class started calling him by the nickname. Sure, it was his hero name, and you could call him that, but you just never felt comfortable.

Todoroki didn’t either, but then again, Todoroki didn't call anyone by their nicknames.

But, back to the point.

"We made a pact, and... that was one of the things I wrote on the sticky notes." You gestured to the book. "It was during my angry denial phase, so I’m not that proud of it, but… it was still true."

"You were angry?" He asked, confused. "Why?"

"Well, first of all, I was worried sick. I knew you were going to go do something stupid, and obviously, I was right.”

He winced at that.

"But I was angry because you didn’t trust me, and I felt like you were leaving me, too," you said, biting your lip. "I know that sounds stupid and selfish, and I get that this was your battle, not mine, and I can't change that, but... I guess I was just scared. You didn’t even tell me before you left, and the note was just..."

You trailed off, a lump forming in your throat again, and your eyes burned with tears.

You didn't want to cry in front of him, so you buried your face in his chest again, and his grip tightened around you.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

You shook your head. "Don’t apologize. It's not like you're changing your mind."

He was quiet for a moment, his head lowering and his lips resting on your forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Your breath hitched. "Izuku, please don't say it."

He pulled back, and his face was unreadable. He looked determined, his eyes burning with passion, and it hurt. It hurt to know that, despite everything, he still had his mind made up.

"I have to go," he said, and his voice was quiet. "I don’t want to leave you alone. I really don’t, but I have to, and you need to stay safe. Me being here isn't doing anything good, and I can't keep coming back and putting you in danger. So, for now, at least until the Shigaraki is dealt with, please just be safe. Don’t try and find me, and please don't let anyone else know I was here."

He paused, his eyes glancing towards the window.

"Actually, I might come back just to get rid of that lock. I mean, seriously, I barely even touched it, and it came right off. You could easily replace it with something stronger, maybe one of those new locks that only respond to fingerprints! But, then it can be traced back to you, and they can use you to— oh, man, I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

You didn't bother to respond. Instead, you leaned up, pressing your lips against his cheek.

Midoriya's entire face went bright red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

You could feel your face burning, but it was worth it to see his reaction.

"Be careful," you said. "Please, Izu, don’t be stupid."

"R-Right."

He stumbled a bit, his hand coming up to touch the spot where your lips were. His eyes flickered back to you, and you swore you saw him blushing, but then he turned, heading towards the window.

"Oh, uhm, b-by the way," he said, reaching the window. He placed his hand on the frame, glancing back at you. "For Aizawa's essay, you have to also analyze the strengths and weaknesses, not just the evolution of quirks. Make sure to read the whole paragraph in that book he gave us at the beginning of the semester."

He gave you one last smile, pulling the mask over his mouth and the hood over his head. You looked in befuddlement as he stepped out onto the roof, and your hands were wrapped around the edges of the open window.

"How did you—"

"It's Aizawa," His mask was muffling his voice, so he lifted it up a bit, and his eyes twinkled. "What else do you expect from him?"

And then he jumped.

He let the mask drop back down and became just another shadow in the night, with his green lightning trailing behind him.

You didn’t have the energy to laugh, and you didn't have the heart.

You leaned against the windowsill, letting the cool night air wash over your face. You sighed, watching the clouds drift in the sky.

"You're still an idiot," you whispered, closing your eyes.

When the sun rises, this encounter will only be a distant memory.

But for now, the cold night was enough to convince you otherwise. For now, his green eyes were staring up at the same night sky, and he was thinking of you, too.

That kiss on the cheek, as tame as it was, was still enough to make his head spin. You were still his friend, his not-alone buddy, and nothing was going to change that.

And you both were okay with that.

[14thgalerie]

you know other women?

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: my kind of woman by mac demarco / sad girl by lana del rey

• word count: 1.2k

• genre: smut (suggestive)

— not proofread again. i just wanted to write a short one because i haven't been in the mood to write anything and it feels shitty. also this is the last time i'm writing something like this, i just wanted to try it out. took the idea from this request!

“You’re the most jealous woman I know!”

There was silence for a moment. Your thumb and pointer finger slipped under his chin and grasped it gently, making him look up at you from his seated position. Your stormy eyes were a bit darker than normal. His heart skipped a beat at the close proximity you were in now. 

“You know other women?”

Theo didn’t utter a word, his silence speaking volumes, proven more by the tremble in his lower lip. 

“Theodore.”

He pulls back from your touch. Eyes fixated on the intricate natural curves of the grains of the wooden floor. Tracing every line. Ignoring the pulsing beat that hammers against his chest. He does this for what internally felt like hours that they didn’t even look like lines anymore. It looked like something else, indecipherable.

“I am talking to you and if you don’t look at me for another second longer…” Your voice trails off in a terrifying tone that makes his head tilt up in less than a millisecond.

“Answer me.”

“Well…of course I know them, but that doesn’t mean I talk to them, you know?” The twitch in his speech is noticeable even by the breeze that passes through the open window. The unbothered, amused tone that he tried to emulate is useless as you remain standing there unimpressed.

Still, and locked in on him like he was a prey. Almost daring him to make another slip of the tongue. 

His mouth hangs open while he flounders in his position, his brain wracking for anything to save him from whatever it is you seem to be planning in your mind.  

“Y/N. Darling. You do know that, right? Just like how you’re the only woman that I even let near me?” 

Compared to earlier, he finds a sense of confidence to look you directly in the eyes. When you make no move to recognise this, he takes it as a sign to continue.

“And I was only playing with you earlier. It didn’t mean anything other than a simple teasing to get you riled up. It was just in the heat of the moment.” He said tremulously. Well aware that he looked and sounded like a mess, spilling whatever his mind could conjure up.

Not a part of him could pinpoint exactly what it was you were thinking, but one thing he knew was that he wouldn’t be spared. But frankly? He couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervous excitement coursing through him.

A tiny voice inside his head inviting him to keep on with the constant rambling that surely worsened his sentence. 

Deep in his thoughts as he tries to expel them, he doesn’t notice how you have come closer, now standing a mere arm’s length away from him. 

“You are mine only. It’ll do you well to remember that.”

The only response his body allows him is a timid nod as you press your thumb on his lower lip, pulling it down. They make a path of tingles as it travels along the sharp features of his face drawing out a whimper from him. 

His breath catches in his throat as your hands tighten around the velvety strands of his chocolate-brown hair, tugging it until he is forced to meet your gaze.

“Your touch, your gaze, they are mine. Only I will hear the way you pathetically beg.”

Nothing more is said as you lean down and, surprisingly, gently press your lips to his. The familiar pair that he has craved since it last touched his hours ago. He ignores the slightly cracked skin; dry from the screaming match you’ve been at for a while.

It was slow. Passionate. Desperate. It fueled a fire deep within the pit of his stomach, travelling downwards.

His hands are wild and rough as they grapple at whatever part of you they can touch; your hips being its choice. But despite this amusing attempt to regain control of the situation, he remains vulnerable to your touch. 

When you pull away from him, unknowingly, he follows your movement, chasing after that addicting warmth. One that you generously gave as you moved to leave a path of open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. 

You don’t pause in your actions as you move your legs to sit on either side of him, his hands mindlessly moving along your lower back to secure you in his lap. Something that sends tingles straight to your core.

His insides were burning him from the inside out, flames consuming him. Intensified as you move towards a sensitive spot, rendering him into a groaning mess under you.

“You wanted this didn’t you?” You taunt playfully, a sly smirk forming in the corner of your mouth. “Tried to provoke me to give you attention?”

To which he tries to deny with meaningless words as his body contradicts them. Thrusting upwards to meet your cruel torment. To feel a sliver of relief in his tightening trousers. His hands, which moved to your hips sometime between your teasing, helped guide you in the back-and-forth motion against his groin. 

“Look at you.” You whisper against his ear, biting his earlobes lightly. Tracing your fingers along his chest, drawing lines and curves. “Can other women have you writhing like a deprived man also? I’d be so delighted to see if they can even come close.”

He stares at you as you draw back with wide, unblinking eyes, and a slackened jaw as heavy exhales pass through his ajar lips. “No.”

“I don’t care for them, I just want you, please.”

Forgetting all sense aside, leaving it for future him to figure out, his lips found yours again. Tongue delving to explore the hollow of your mouth, while his hands continue to move you just to feel that fire blooming in his core finally be released. It seemed that maybe you were gracious enough to let him do it, despite the obvious act of disobedience that you punished him for.

The moans that were like music to your ears were pathetic enough for you. Getting louder that he had to push his head against your chest to muffle the sounds that others outside must have heard already. You run your fingers through his hair, something that always pushed him off the brink of his high. 

In his desperation, he never forgets about you and draws his dominant hand between your bodies straight towards your clothes core before you roughly grasp his wrist and toss it aside.

“No touching.” You warn. “But-“

“You don’t deserve to.” You curtly retort. It was pathetic, the way that his hand itched to disobey you but he knew that he was pushing the boundaries too far already.

“Just as you deserve this.” You declare, his eyes widen in bewilderment as the weight on his lap is lifted, leaving him with only the pitiful feeling of emptiness. “What-”

You remain silent, casually strolling towards the locked door, indifferent to his wide-eyed desperation and his fumbling hands that seem to forget what it’s supposed to do. The a slight tremor in his voice as he calls for you.

“See you at dinner.”

“You can’t just leave me here, love, please.” He says, a hint of desperation at the end. 

“You don’t make the calls, Theo.” You say, unwavering, while he sits there helplessly. You weren’t going to give him a punishment that he would like, no.

masterlist

[onlyangel4]

life of pain. LL30. part one. smau + written.

liam lawson x chronically ill reader

reader has dealt with pain for as long as she can remember but what she did not respect was for her pain to be the reason she met her soulmate.

author's note: i shall be writing this from experience so reader suffers from elher's danlos syndrome, chronic pain syndrome and chronic fatigue syndrome. but if you have a different chronic illness please do imagine it as that

faceclaim: kristine froseth

part two

y/ninsta posted a story

written: think i just won daughter of the year

y/ninsta posted a story

written: pj day

y/bff replied to this story: are you alright y/n you only wear pjs all day when it is a tough day

y/ninsta: i'm okay just been suffering the past week

y/bff: aren't you going to vegas soon

y/ninsta: fly out tomorrow

y/bff: just be safe okay love don't push yourself too far

y/ninsta posted a story

written: can't wait to celebrate you this weekend, love you dad

y/ninsta posted a story

written: fit check

y/ninsta posted a story

written: finally here

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

"great more walking", you whispered under your breath as you tucked your phone back into your handbag. this was not your dad's fault, he had no idea that you had hardly gotten out of bed all week and now you were in las vegas pushing your body to do things that it really did not want to do. your lids were already heavy, ready for bed and it was barely 9pm, a feeling that you were used to but would never feel normal.

you had decided that you wanted to get good pictures from this trip, so you had only packed heels, a cruel way of forcing your pained body to wear the fashionable shoe rather than slipping into your good old faithful worn out sneakers.

slowly weaving through the crowd you made sure to keep your head up and not slump shoulders, a way of making sure the shooting pain in your shoulder didn't get worse. but as you walked your eyes looked up to see a large group of people walking towards you, they already looked drunk. fucking brilliant.

you just continued to walk forward feigning importance with each step but even then you got shoved by one of the men. your brow furrowed, no one got to disrespect you like that. you turned to get a look at the man who had shoved you and give him a piece of your mind but you quickly regretted that choice.

you twisted badly on your right near and as you were in heels there was no stopping your right knee from dislocating. something that happens all the time but does not get any less painful. your joint quickly popped out of place and then back in but the damage was done as a yelp left your lips and you crumbled down to the floor.

the people in the paddock were too preoccupied with the excitement that comes with attending a formula one race that they just did not notice you on a crumpled heap on the ground hand grasping your knee just to make sure that it was properly back in place.

you were getting yourself ready to stand back up all by yourself when you noticed a blonde man with his eyes looked on you making a beeline towards you. "shit are you alright, you took quite a spill there", he spoke and your brain registered the accent instantly. "i'm okay i do stupid stuff like this all the time", you spoke and the man gave you a gentle smile, "what exactly happened that looked a little more than a small fall?"

"my dislocated", you spoke seeing the usual horror spread on his face.

"shit do i need to call an ambulance"

"no, like i said this happens all the time"

the man looked at you with pure concern on his face, you could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tried to work you out.

"i have elhers danlos, you probably have never heard of it but it just means my joints like to dislocate all the time"

prince charming slowly nodded, "okay lets get you up and then i can help you find your friends"

"i'm here with my dad, he text me saying he was in the williams garage. i was trying to find him"

"okay i'll help you find him", he spoke before wrapping his arm around your waist.

"if you are going to touch me like that i better know your name mister", you teased as you heaved yourself up into a standing position.

the man looked a little taken back by your question almost like you should have known who he was, "i'm liam", he smiled

"nice to to meet you liam, i'm y/n", you spoke before beginning the walk with him, his arm still around your waist, just helping you keep your balance as you hobbled over towards the williams garage.

the walk to the garage was really nice, liam was asking you all sorts of questions like where you were from and what your medical condition really meant for you. you yapped on about your life, enjoying the man's company as you got to the williams garage.

your father was stood outside eyes searching for you but when he spotted you and your company his mouth opened wider, "Oh y/n", he called out as you and liam approached him.

"you worried me girl, did something happen", he spoke still side eyeing liam making you quirk an eyebrow.

"i'm okay, my knee dislocated, i'm fine though", you spoke knowing how worried your father got sometimes.

but your father was a little more focused on the man next to you, "liam", he spoke, "it is lovely to meet you", he smiled and you frowned a little, how did your father know liam?

"i am very happy to see you back in f1, you drive brilliantly"< your father spoke and you gasped.

"shit, you are liam lawson, the new rb driver", you spoke turning to him, "i am so sorry i didn't recognise you, i am a casual f1 fan, my dad here is the real superfan", you explained to the man rambling on a little bit.

"that is okay y/n it was kind of refreshing to meet someone that doesn't know who i am", he spoke kindly, "i'm going to have to head back over to the garage for some media bits but i was wondering if i could have your number. i could hustle you two seats in the rb garage for the race", he spoke, "it will a lot safer there for you", he smiled.

your father was looking at you two starstruck and you just nodded, "of course", you spoke before he gave you his phone and you plugged your number in, "thank you for helping me liam", you spoke before waving him goodbye.

he left you stood there stunned as your father asked you ever question under the sun about your interaction with the driver.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

@bibissparkles

@milkysoop

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[daphwritesworld]

Would you write for player x player x reader???

If so could I request a Leah x Alessia x Reader fic?? I feel like they'd be the perfect combination of strict and soft, so interchangeable too!

Leah x Teammate!Reader x Alessia

content: Top!Leah, Bottom!Reader, Top!Alessia, overprotective!Leah, peacekeeper!Lessi, strap on use (R receiving), pussy eating (R & Alessia receiving), nipple play, squirting, overstimulation

warnings: talk of passing out & being unconscious, little bit of Leah semi shouting but only bc she’s worried about you, Reader pushing herself too hard

synopsis: You push yourself too hard your first game back on the pitch. It’s a good thing you’ve got two extra worried girlfriends to remind you to properly rest.

word count: 2.8k

!! 18+ NO MINORS !!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━���♠♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

They warned you. Told you to be careful and not to push yourself at your first game back…but did you listen? Absolutely not. Why would you listen to them? The two people who care about you most. Why listen to them when you’ve got a thick skull and an even thicker will to do whatever the fuck you want.

Sure they’re just looking out for you, but your need to prove yourself to everyone in this stadium is overwhelming. And the need to prove it to yourself is suffocating. Like a pair of invisible hands around your throat— squeezing and squeezing the life out of you until you go out there and score.

So that’s exactly what you do. You get put in the last half of the game, fire coursing through your veins as you run out on the pitch. Your brows are furrowed as you stay focused, you see Leah in the midfield shooting the ball, and next thing you know it it’s coming right at you. You let the adrenaline take over, your brain realizing you’re blocked in.

So without hesitation you do the only thing you can think of— you kick the ball towards the goal. You don’t even turn around, too scared to see your failure play out in front of you. But the boos never come, a wave of cheers erupts within the stands as your teammates surround you as they scream words of encouragement towards you.

Alessia and Leah are the last to leave you, giving you quick forehead kisses with whispered “Good job, darling!” & “So so proud of you, love!” before they run back out to their positions on the pitch. The energy pumping through your veins is enough to drown out the dull ache in your head. You’re fine! You’ve been cleared to play, and you’re starting back on restricted time. At least that’s what you keep telling yourself. That’s what you tell yourself as the seconds tick down, your foot making contact with the ball as your vision starts cutting in and out. You can hear the cheers from the crowd and then all you see and hear is black.

You come to in the med room. Each of your girlfriends on either side of you as you slowly blink open your eyes. You groan out as you get use to the new light source— two heads snapping up as you do so. “How are you feeling, love?” It comes out so soft and pillowy light.

“Like she fucking pushed herself too hard, that’s how she’s feeling!” A less sweet voice cuts through the air. You dart your eyes down at the tone, eyes filling up with tears as your teeth bite down into your bottom lip. You really don’t want to break down in here, praying you can at least make it to the car. “I-I’m really sorry. Can we please just g-get in the car..then you can yell me all you want. Okay? I..I’m sorry,” you’re picking at your fingers as you say it.

Your body language is so drawn into yourself— you know you messed up. You’re shutting down right in front of them as you retreat into your own body for comfort. Leah lets out a sigh, her anger dissipating as she leans down to bring your eyes up to meet her’s. “I’m sorry, too. I was way too harsh, my love. I know you just wanted to play good, and you did. You scored us two goals, and the winning one with only seconds to spare…” her voice trails off as her eyes get a little more serious. “But then I had to watch you go down— again. No, we did. Me and Alessia. We had to stand by on the sidelines and watch a bunch of doctors work on your unconscious body as they hooked you up and wheeled you away. We were terrified, darling.”

You look up to meet her eyes, tears filling up in hers mirroring yours as the weight of everything finally hits you. She pulls you into a hug as you both let it out. Crying into each other as she caresses your back. Alessia stands up to lean into the embrace. A hand on the back of Leah’s head and the other one runs up and down your arm. She’s trying to be strong for the both you— take the brunt of the emotional tax. She can calmly kisses your foreheads and tells you both it’s gonna be okay. One of you has to hold together, and right now that’s Less. Like the glue you always say she is, she bonds you three on that small little medical table. Held together by nothing but sheer love and adoration.

“Come on lovies, let’s go get in the car,” she says it so soft, to not disturb the comfortable silence you’re all bathing in. She tugs you both a little, urging you to hop down. You untangle your arms as Leah helps you hobble off the uncomfortable table. Alessia walks up behind you both, a hoodie of hers ready to be put over your head. You lift your arms as she slides it on, planting a kiss to your cheek as she fixes the hood for you. They both lead you out of the building and into the chilling night air of London.

Alessia gets in the back with you, letting you snuggle up to her as Leah climbs into the drivers seat. It’s a short ride to your flat, thankfully being a home game this time round. You don’t even notice that the car’s stopped moving. Not until Leah’s opening the backseat and Less is rubbing your back as she coaxes you out of your sleepy daze. “Come on, love. Gotta get inside so you can eat.”

You sigh before leaving her warmth, climbing out of the car as they once again surround you, on either side as the guide you into your shared home. They set you on the couch before Leah settles down with you, letting you climb into her lap as you get comfy. You know she won’t be cooking, letting Alessia do all the work as she focuses on keeping you awake. That’s always how it ends up…well usually a little more R-Rated, but you don’t except her to want you after pushing her and yourself like you did today. You lean your head up to rest on hers— forehead to forehead as you speak so softly you’re not sure if she can even hear you, “I am really sorry, baby. I hope you’re not still mad at me.”

She lets out a deep sigh before tapping a finger on your cheek, you direct your gaze to hers already knowing the telltale sign. “I’m not mad at you, love. But you will be getting punished after dinner. I’ve already discussed with Less. No if, ands, or buts. She agrees you deserve a little lesson on pushing yourself, too hard. You understand?”

A smile pulls at the corner of your lips as you giggle a bit at the realization. “Yes ma’am, I understand.”

“Don’t look so happy to get punished. What are we gonna do with you, darling?”

Dinner pasts smoothly, all of you eating as you finish a new episode of the show you’re watching together. You lay there for a while after you’ve all finished, bellies full and end credits rolling across the screen. You almost forget about your fate upstairs, that is until they’re both sharing a look before turning to you. Trapping you in a corner to the couch with only them to turn to. “I’m gonna do the dishes, and by the time i’m upstairs you better be listening to Less’s every word. Are we clear?”

“Yes ma’am. We’re clear,” you swallow between words. Fire running through your veins for a whole new meaning now.

She backs away from you as she collects the dishes on the coffee table before you. Alessia starts guiding you up to your shared bedroom where you know you’ll be pulled apart and put back together. When Leah’s harsh and by the book, Alessia is lenient and bending rules for you. But don’t be fooled— they can switch at the drop of a dime, too. They fill in whatever roll they need to, anything to balance out exactly what you need.

You’re being laid down into the bed before you know it, Alessia pulling away the articles of stained clothing that separates your body from her. She’s being so sweet and gentle, kissing your naked body as it’s gifted to her sight. You swear you could fall asleep like this. That is until your other girlfriend comes into the room, laugh light on her breath as she walks closer to the edge of the bed. It sinks down as she climbs forward on it, stalking her way towards you. Like a predator and its prey. You lie still as you watch her with wide eyes, body cowering as you think of all the things she could do to you.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” She licks her lips as she says it. A dark color overtaking her irises as she keeps looking at your exposed body.

You listen, spreading them as far as you can before her, presenting yourself to her fully. You know you’re dripping wet— you can feel it. You’ve been able to feel it ever since you sat on her lap before dinner. She groans out at the sight of you. Her fingers pulling your pussy lips apart as your face flushes at the way she’s studying your cunt. Like she and Alessia haven’t had you like this too many times to count— their little personal fuck doll.

Leah can’t hold herself back before she’s sinking her mouth down onto your clit, sucking on your bundle of nerves as Alessia starts playing with your nipples. Her mouth switching between them as her hands hold yours down onto the sheets. Can’t have your pesky little hands pushing them away because you’re too drunk off their touch. You swear you can feel every nerve in your body responding as it jerks around, pleasure wrecking in through waves. They’re toying with the your most intimate parts in ways you haven’t felt in weeks. You’ve missed there touch so much— craved it even.

Leah’s tongue moves down to your hole as her fingers come to rub on your clit, her eyes never leaving your face. She loves tasting you like this— when you’re so helpless. Pinned down and shaking like a leaf, spread out for both your girlfriends’ enjoyment. She’s being so messy tonight it’s making your head spin. She’s shaking her head with her tongue held out, pulling back and spitting on your clit, and just straight up making out with your pussy. At this point it’s all for Leah’s pleasure. She’s eating you like this because she wants to, and who are you to deny her? It doesn’t take long for that familiar burn to start brewing in your belly. A fire starting that you can’t put out. “I-I’m gonna cum!”

“Go ahead. No ones stopping you, love.”

You look up at her in disbelief, thighs clenching as you hold back your orgasm. There’s no way she’s letting you cum after today..right? Your eyes are bouncing around as your brain scrambles.

“Y/N. It’s okay. Don’t worry this is still a punishment, you’ll see,” Leah says it as she rubs little shapes into your clit. Kissing your inner thigh before shoving her tongue back inside you, tongue fucking you at a rhythm you didn’t even know was possible. You’d have to remember to pamper her later— you know her jaw must be about to fall down off after this. “Cum for us, love,” this time it comes from Alessia as her tongue starts circling around your nipple, her wet fingertips mimicking her tongue’s pattern as it goes around your other bud.

Your vision starts to get blurred and you clench your thighs around Leah’s head— an ungodly noise ripping from your chest as you cum on her face. Cum painting her nose and cheeks as she moans into the liquid gold leaking out of you. Alessia’s running her hands up and down your arms, leaving little kisses on your face as she tells you what a “Good Girl,” you’re being.

You go to open your mouth, but get cut off by a whimper leaving your mouth. Your hips go to jerk away, but Leah holds them down. Tsking at you as she shakes her head with a smirk. “I told her this was still a punishment, didn’t I, Less?”

“Mhm. You sure did, Le,” Alessia says while straddling your head. Her fingers never leaving your sensitive clit as she keeps rubbing into it. They both share a laugh as they look down at you between Lessi’s thighs, your big wide eyes staring back up at them. “Be a good girl and make Less cum, baby.” Then she’s sinking down onto you, silencing you as she starts grinding down onto your face.

You get lost in the task— moaning up into her as your hips grind against the air. You’re not sure where Leah went, but you’re not too worried at the moment. Which is unfortunate…because if you were listening close enough you would’ve heard the bedside drawer opening and closing, or maybe the unmistakable sound of Le sliding on her favorite harness. Maybe then you wouldn’t be bright red with embarrassment— hiding your face between Alessia’s thighs from the way you squirt on just the tip of Leah’s strap. Making a defining silence take over the room as both girls stop their ministrations. She’d barely got it in before the liquid shot out and sprayed both her, Alessia, and the sheets below them. A loud high pitched moan breaking out of your chest and into Less’s cunt that had her cumming early all over your face as well.

You’re about to say something— defend your busting early, but Leah beats you to it. With the way her hips pull back and then slam down into your slick heat, “Someone’s missed my cock, huh, darling?” she’s making out with Less as she says it. You can’t tell if she’s talking to you or your other girlfriend, but it doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t be able to respond anyways with the way your brain is turning to mush. Less is still sat on your face— pussy wetter than ever as your tongue keeps exploring her.

You don’t know if you’d wanna respond anyways..Leah gets so cocky when she has a fake dick tied around her waist. Her mouth can be deadly in the best of ways when she knows she’s making you feel good with it. She’s had you cumming in minutes when she runs her mouth, telling you how much your pussy loves her, “Ohh look darling, she’s practically begging. Crying out for me isn’t she?”

That’s what she says when you’re wet— that your pussy is crying out for her. She can be the nastiest of talkers when she wants to be, talking straight to your pussy as she leans down to finger fuck you open to take her cock. She’s even shushed you before, “Shhh, baby! I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to your pussy.”

But Less is always there to balance it out, with kisses to your furrowed brow until the wrinkles there are gone and your relaxing back into the pleasure. Leah may love to tease you, but Less always knows when to reassure at the right times. The yin to Leah’s yang.

Before you know it, you’re cuming around her again— Alessia’s fingers still rubbing tight circles into your clit as you squirm away from her touch. Leah’s grabbing your hips as she starts fucking you faster, a new found energy to render you boneless. “I told you this was a punishment, love. You wanted to push yourself on the pitch? That’s fine. We’re gonna push your record for most orgasms in a night. Aren’t we Less?”

“Mhm, you’ve got four more to go, darling! Almost there,” She hops off your face as she plants a kiss to your lips. Disappearing behind you as their words sink in. Your arms go to Leah’s shoulders as she changes angles a bit, throwing one of your legs up over her shoulder. You don’t even notice the bed dip back down, or the buzzing sound infiltrating the air now…but you definitely feel the vibrations on your red, puffy clit. Sending tears to your eyes as your legs start to shake, screams and pleads skipping from your kiss swollen lips as you cum once more. Then Alessia’s leaning down— licking up the tears from cheeks before she presses a button on the wand vibrator..sending it up into a faster setting. Your nights truly only just beginning. Lord be with you.

[mcondance]

other side of the game; hobie brown

summary // hobie swings by when you’re cleaning your room, and you know exactly what he wants.

cw // dubcon-ish (you say stuff akin to no but like.. you want it. it’s just a game you n hobie play), they talk a lot of shit, missionary

extras // you and hobie r Black so i don't wanna hear anything abt the grammar i used! "it's supposed to be doesn't" kill yourself idc, the song has. nothing to do with what happens in this fic btw it just.. it makes sense when you read it and it helped me write

wc // 2.6k

song shoutouts // special thanks to other side of the game by erykah badu and i get lonely by janet jackson

signing off // thank you to poetnon for this idea i hope you like this <3

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you know the second you hear the knocks at your window that you won't be getting anything else done today. he does this every fucking time.

walking across your room, you unlock the window for your boyfriend, eyes meeting his as you psyche yourself up for what you know is coming.

you return your attention to your desk, and with your back turned to him, you hear him slide his lanky body through the frame, landing softly on your carpeted floor.

"you busy?" he muses pointlessly, already shrugging his jacket off and reaching down to untie his boots. player one, ready?

"yeah," you hum pointlessly too, hands fiddling with the trinkets on your desk. maybe if you don't look at him, you won't cave. player two, ready?

"what you up to?" his voice grows closer. you close your eyes, breathing deep and slow to try to build your resolve, but you can hear him inching towards you, the clinging of his belts giving his movements away.

"cleanin' my room." you spin around, figuring you'd face your doom instead. his shoes are off now, placed up against the wall under your window. and now the game has started.

"mhm. well don't let me stop you," he smiles, and you wish you could say that it didn't put another dent in your already rusty resolve, but it does. with shaking hands crossed in front of you, you push yourself up and away from your desk and move across your room to your pile of clothes, folding shit hastily, already so fucking nervous.

he takes your place leaning against your desk and scans your room, taking in how much you’ve already gotten done. it makes him feel a little less bad about what he’s going to do. “looks good already. how long you been cleanin’?”

“since like, 10.”

“mhm. ‘s 2:24 now. think you’re ready for a break?” you snap your head towards him, rolling your eyes and screwing your lips up at the implications of his words.

“not the kinda break you’re talking about,” you sneer, rolling your eyes again as you return your focus to the meaningless pile of clothes.

“and what kinda break is that?”

“the kinda break when you end up inside me. i don’t have time for it.” you don’t face him as you speak. you can’t. if you do, it’s all over. you don’t want it to end just yet. it’s fun. it always is.

“what, you think ‘m just tryna get in your pants? i jus’ think my girl should have a little rest, yeah?” at his words you drop the shirt in your hand, switching gears to organize your nightstand instead.

“you’re lying. you always do this.”

“do what?”

“this. you come here and sweet talk me and the next thing i know i’m under you and my room doesn’t get cleaned. i’m not doing this today.”

he’s silent— your brain isn’t. you know it’s only a matter of time until he’s doing exactly what he’s doing now.. wrapping his slim fingers around your waist and pulling you back onto him.

speaking directly against your ear, he finally comes out with what he wants. “take a break, baby, lemme make you feel good." his lips meet your neck, ghosting over your heated skin.

"can't, hobes, i gotta clean up,” you whine, but it's futile at this point, cause you're already leaning back onto him, already tilting your neck to the side to give him more access, already dropping the half-empty water bottle in your hand.

"you sure, love? y'can clean up after we're done, hm? i'll help you.” he sounds earnest, like he really cares. you shake your head no, but you let him pull you away from your desk and turn you around. "gotta clean," you repeat, but you let him push you down onto your ruffled sheets.

"then clean." he’s standing over you now with his hands tucked into his pockets, and he motions towards the pile of clothes with his head, knowing eyes fixed on your frame sprawled out on your bed. from here, the light frames him perfectly, and he looks so damn pretty. maybe you'll blame what you do next on that. doesn't matter now, though. eyes meeting, you both know you're not getting up— seconds pass with you both staring, a silent confirmation, and hobie knows your answer.

shrugging, he leans down with his hands still in his pockets, placing a damning kiss on your lips, murmuring "gave you a chance, baby. knew you didn't give a fuck about cleanin'." and he's right, embarrassingly so, so you roll your eyes, channeling your faux-frustration into a rough kiss, curling your hands under the straps of his t-shirt.

he falls forward, hands flying from his pockets to balance himself on top of you. smiling against your lips, he speaks again, “see. . you want it. you’re desperate.”

his hips start to rock against yours, stacked belts clinging against your dangling legs. hands finding the side of his face, you huff at his irritating need to almost shame you, to show for some made-up record that no matter how much you turn him down, you want him. you need him.

so you push your hips against his, humming at the groan that flies from his lips. tapping your thigh, he ushers you up the bed, your bodies turning until your head is laid on your pillows.

he reaches down between you two, sliding your shorts to the side to rub his fingers against your already sloppy cunt, smiling when he feels and sees how wet you are. “cleaning my ass,” he jokes, kissing you before you can get upset again.

sliding his fingers up, he brushes the pads of them over your sensitive clit, swallowing the pretty moans that start to flow from your spit-slicked lips. hobie knows you like the back of his hand, knows just how much pressure you need, how tight his circles have to be, knows how to make you cum hard, and cum fast.

it’s always like this when he comes by with the goal to distract you— you always end up under him with whatever you have on pushed hastily to the side, fully clothed and his hand between your legs, shaking arms wrapped around his neck. it’s desperate, really, both your need to get off.

though you try to remain steadfast, try to act like you don’t want this, the way your hips move against his hand gives you away. “did all that sayin’ ‘no’, bu’ look.” he points his eyes down, towards where his hand is hovering above your cunt, fingers glistening.

“‘course ‘m wet, don’t mean shit.”

“it don’t? that’s wild, love,” he slides two fingers in without warning and presses his thumb against your clit before he starts his circles again, other hand moving to hold you in place when you thrash against him, “cause last time i had t’almost beg. ‘n the time before that, i did beg.”

you know what he’s trying to say, and it makes heat rise in your face and makes your eyes close, cause you can’t face him. no matter, though, cause he grabs your face, spits, “open your eyes. look a’me.”

you open your eyes and meet his low ones, ones that are always black with lust, ones that bore straight through you and make you feel so small and dirty underneath their gaze. he nods at your obedience, and then his fingers catch that spot inside you, and the licks of flame inside you morph into something like a fire, lighting you up with pleasure. you’re close, so close.

“you’re gettin’ easier, baby. act all you want, you’re desperate.” that sends you over the edge, and it’s embarrassing. it’s filthy, how he just has to talk to you a little mean and you’re cumming on his fingers, shaking as you choked out sobs of his name, like you weren’t just telling him to leave you alone 10 minutes ago.

before you even come down he’s kissing you, pulling your shirt up to free your tits.

"fuck you." you spew as you separate, but you still pull him closer, position him where his clothed dick rubs right against your cunt, kept away by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts that have almost rolled back into place.

"you will, in a second," he bites back, a wicked smile plastered across his ethereal features— features that are driving you fucking insane.

you’ve grown sick of his mouth— fisting his hair, you yank hard, drawing a pained moan from him and another drag of his cock against you. “you keep talking all this shit, but you’re the one who came up to my window looking for some ass. i don’t wanna hear it.”

“yeah? and you’re the one who kept going on about havin’ to clean your room, but i got you in bed so easy. we’re both fucked.”

and it’s true. the statement grounds both of you, and you both realize just where you are— inches apart, seconds away from what you both want. snapping out of it at the same time, your hands tangle together as you reach for each other’s bottoms, you freeing his pretty dick and him ripping your shorts right down the middle.

you laugh at his haste, his deep chuckles mixing with your giggles, foreheads meeting as you both calm down after your frenzy.

“‘m sorry. still forget how strong i am.”

“‘s fine. just fuck me already.”

“ehhh,” hand around his cock, sliding his tip up and down your waiting cunt, he teases once more, “y’sure you don’ wanna clean? room’s still a bit messy.”

“hobie, i swear to god, if you do not put it in me now i will pin you down and take it.” reading your eyes, he can tell you’re dead serious.

“‘s much as i’d love that,” he slides in with a pretty groan, and you wrap your arms around his neck with a throaty whine, “i want you like this.” pushing his hips up, he seats himself inside you.

breathing heavy, you both just take a second to calm down, to bask in the feeling of being intertwined with your lover again, no matter how annoying they can be. with closed eyes, you throw your head back, resting on your pillows. hobie takes that as a sign to spread kisses down your jaw, grinning when you smile.

“move,” you breathe, shifting your hips to give him better access.

that first stroke always drives you both crazy. the slow pull out, faces contorting in pleasure, bodies getting closer and closer until the next best thing is merging together again, you pushing down and him pushing up and then his cock takes its rightful place inside you, sensitive tip leaking against your cervix.

“‘m all the way in, love, can feel the end of you,” he murmurs against your neck, and you nod, curling your arms tighter around his neck. then, he just grinds, circles his hips, just barely pulling out.

it’s perfect, the way your bodies move against each other, giving and receiving pleasure at the end of the game you both love playing. with fluttery glides and soft slides, and pitchy whines and deep groans, you dunk yourselves into that familiar pool of feeling, let it fill up your noses and mouths until it’s spilling over, your bodies shaking and jerking against each other.

blissed out of your fucking minds, your lips meet the others, lazy connects of your lips that you can just barely call kisses. they’re slack-jawed and sloppy, spit-swapping, the lewd smacks filling the air, mixing with the harmony of fucked-out sounds.

slowly, hobie starts moving his hips around differently, on a mission now, one that has you tensing up, cause it never takes him long to find it, that sweet spot that has you—

“fuck,” you drawl, throwing your head back, and hobie just smiles and keeps his hips moving that way, keeps his cock kissing that same spot.

"that's it?" he hums.

when you try to articulate what you're feeling, try to tell him "yeah", the words never come. instead, he's raising up to spread your legs and balancing himself above you, switching from slow grinds to deep thrusts that have him pressing against that spot even more now.

now, with him slapping his hips against yours and his thumb on your clit, the sound fills the room, skin against skin. jolting against him, his eyes are still trained on yours, fixed on the furrow of your eyebrows and the o-shape your lips make, focused on how pretty you look when he fucks you.

your choppy moans fill his ears, the background to his barrage of words that fill yours. sentences about how pretty you look, how good you feel, how he just wants to fuck you forever, and then for the second time without warning, you cum again, right when he says something about wanting to keep you fucked and filled, "'s why i keep comin' over, cause i wan' you full of me all the time."

it's gentle, this time, streams of feeling flowing softly through you. hobie makes sure to keep his pace steady through it all, makes sure he prolongs it as long as he can.

when you come down, you're pushing up on his hips with shaking hands, nodding your head and telling him to move. he doesn't waste a second, lifts up and grabs your headboard with one hand to give himself some leverage, his other hand resting on your calf. this time around, he's forgotten all that slow shit.

he rocks his hips hard and fast, jolting you up, and your back rubs against your sheets, your hands fly to your thighs to ground yourself.

"keep 'em open," he slurs, eyes fixed on where he disappears inside you, on the way you cream on his cock, his pretty dick painted white. "watch," he tells you, "she swallow me up so nice." his tone is awe-filled, brown eyes lit up at the visual of you taking him so well.

your eyes roll back in your head, another wave of arousal overtaking you and you can't watch any longer or you'll go crazy, so you watch his face instead. watch his pretty fucking face contort in pleasure, watching his eyebrow piercings dance in the light, watch his sharp jaw clench when you clench around him.

and god, it’s building up again. how could have ever even thought you’d clean up today, when this is so much better. “you gonna cum?” he asks, cause he knows your tells better than you do. you nod shakily, hands gripping onto your thighs so hard you swear you feel your fingers going numb.

“then do it.” it’s an order, really, and you know what he means. hand flying to your clit, you rub messy circles, and hobie moves his hand from your calf to your thigh to keep you open for him. nodding with wild eyes, he watches you make yourself cum, watches your circles became sloppy side-to-side motions while you whine and almost fucking cry, watches your cunt clamp down on him and suck him in “like she don’t wanna let go.”

through the mind-fuck in your head, you hear him groan loud, and then he’s cumming too, gripping your headboard so hard you swear you hear a soft crack, but fuck the headboard, cause hobie looks so pretty when he cums that it don’t even matter.

laughing, blissed out of your minds, hobie lays down on top of you, breathing hard and sweaty as shit, just like you are.

“i really did need to clean my room though, hobie.” you hum, turning your head to face him.

“i wasn’t just tryin’ to get in your pants, love, i was serious about helpin’,” he mumbles against your neck. and he does help. by the time he’s sliding back through your window and kissing you goodbye, your room is perfect.

[knavesflames]

Biker!Arlecchino au🏍️

Omg so many people wanted biker!arle au so here we are! Vice president is of course @hulahoopsoupgroup who often provides me with brain rot I can turn into writing (thanks for the brain rot while I’m at work)

We were talking about biker!Arlecchino and her backstory (more to come hmm) and more specifically, how she’d be in an intimate setting. It led to, well, this. Enjoy:)

Word count: 1517

Content: cunnilingus (reader giving), Arlecchino.. bottoms?!

Nsft utc!

Most people think she’s exactly how she looks. Angry, unfeeling, downright terrifying. Once you know her, she’s anything but. Especially when she’s taken a liking to you, once you’ve earned her affection. I think, once you’ve earned her messily cut flowers (much to her own embarrassment), there’s no question on whether you’ve earned it or not. Once she’s decided she likes you enough to be around you, she’s loyal. More than, even. She’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked her to, and she’d do it without a question. (She’d grumble, obviously, she has to maintain her intimidating demeanour).

In reality, she’s softer. Don’t mistake it, there are walls covered with barbed wire and signs telling you to leave her alone. You could probably hear a dog snarling in a warning, if those walls were visible. Once you get past these walls, however, she’s nothing if not a woman craving real love.

Perhaps that’s why she’s become so infatuated with you, someone who can make her cheeks heat with only a glance, someone who, when she’s ‘sleeping’, will stroke the silky locks of her hair as you try to soothe your own mind to sleep. You know there’s a reason she’s so closed off, you know she won’t say a word if you ask, so you don’t. She’s comfortable with you, though, so you let her open up at her own pace, which, granted, is.. agonisingly slow. Arlecchino does not allow herself to be vulnerable. Even during intimacy she refuses to let herself go. Arlecchino is on guard at all times, any second she’s conscious. She’s on guard even when she’s falling into the throes of slumber. Only when sleep overtakes her completely does her body relax.

Which is why tonight seems to be so special for the both of you. Instead of the usual, her on top of you, calmly asking directing you to the position she’d like you to be in (with a weird clear of her throat every so often to hide the way her breath catches when she sees you), you are, in fact, the one taking off her clothes tonight. In a moment of weakness vulnerability, she has allowed you to move forward with your gentle advances.

Although reluctant, she lets you shrug off the shirt she always has on and allows your fingers to dance gingerly over the many tattoos she’s acquired. From this distance, you’re able to see the age of the ink, the quality of it, too. You can see the way the lines have gone from shaky and hesitant to sharp and refined. You don’t tell her, but you’re also able to see which tattoo was her first, done by herself in her bathroom one night with a slightly shaky hand. All you know about that is that she promptly decided she was not giving herself another tattoo. In her own words, “why would I have anything less than the best on my skin?” You’ll learn the story behind them one day, you decide.

A low hum comes from her throat when your nails seem to gently scratch at the skin, and she speaks, albeit with a slightly strained voice. “Careful. The ink might bleed. Feels… it feels nice, though.” Your own response is a chuckle, but you choose to continue what you were originally doing. The tattoos will get more love another time. Your lips meet her neck instead, grinning when you feel her shiver slightly as you press gentle kisses along her skin, from her jaw to her throat, her collarbone…

Whatever skin you can reach, you’re kissing, your thumbs stroking her skin as you lower yourself slowly. She isn’t even fully aware of what you’re doing, her head tilted up towards the ceiling, until she feels your hands on her stupid leather pants. When Arlecchino looks down, her eyes widen almost imperceptibly at the sight in front of her. She had not expected you to be on your knees, and she goes to stand up in a panic until she hears your voice. “Help me with these? I don’t know how you even get these on each morning.” The response is a huff that could almost be interpreted like a laugh. Almost. You can see the hesitation in her eyes, but she sees your soft smile and she eventually moves to help you with them. You look up at her when you hear her breathing stutter, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you murmur, asking if she’s alright. When she reassures in the same gruff voice she always has that she is, indeed, alright, you continue.

Your gentle assault of kisses move now from her stomach, to the sides of her hips, the tops of her thighs, her inner thighs, and then, you stop. Your eyes meet hers again when your breath fans against her skin, and she gives you the nod you need to continue. You don’t miss the way her lip is caught between her teeth, and you are very well aware of the fact this is the most vulnerable she’s been around you. Progress, you think, you only hope it lasts. When you do finally begin, and your next kiss is against the part of her that for Arlecchino, seems to be aching, you feel her thighs immediately tense. You can only assume the rest of her body has tensed too, but it is immensely impossible to miss the way her thighs are now sandwiching your head. Whether it’s to keep you there or to stop you, you aren’t entirely sure, but you decide to continue anyway. You trust her to tell you if she wanted to stop.

You start gently, your lips barely ghosting over the small bundle of the nerves, your tongue swirling carefully against it every so often, and you smile into her at the realisation her breath is speeding up, and she’s very quickly beginning to move with you. You clench your fist against the carpet in the attempt to muffle your own gasp, or whatever noise that’s threatening to escape your lips. At one point, when your lips wrap around her clit, you’ve clearly done the right thing, because you hear a strained whimper, and without warning, you feel her hands weaving into your hair. Your eyes meet hers when they flutter open, and along with the feel of her nails scratching against your scalp and her fingers carding through your hair, you see the way she’s looking at you.

For Arlecchino, you might as well have hung the stars in the sky, the very stars she admires each night. With her lips parted, her cheeks flushed (a common occurrence now she’s dating you, it seems), and the way her right eyebrow is raised ever so slightly, she stares down at you in a daze, and her words come out in some strange mix of a groan and a whimper.

“I’d burn the world for you,” Arlecchino murmurs, her hands tightening in your hair to bring you back to her core when you pull away to speak. The act both of you are involved in is gentle and full of love, something Arlecchino promised she’d never feel again. It’s that very thought that makes her move her hips in time with your mouth, chasing the high she never allows herself. Though, she keeps speaking, though the words are becoming more of a mumble.

“If loving you will take me to hell, I’m going to greet Satan with roses, I swear.” You feel the urge to tease her for how affectionate she gets, and you hold out as your mouth continues their ministrations, until you can’t hold out. “So affectionate when you’re being eaten out, hm?”

You are met with a sharper tug on your hair and a sharp puff of air that ends in a quiet whimper. Then another whimper, and another as the coil in Arlecchino’s stomach grows tighter. One more look at your eyes staring up at her and she shudders, her mouth falling open and her thighs trapping you even more as she rides your face through her climax.

She was quieter than you expected, though you wonder if it’s because she’s shy. When you rise from your position, your knees are a little red, nothing time won’t fix, but your main focus is on her. You end up crawling into her pillows, patting the space next to with a tilted head, a silent request for her to join you. She does, settling herself on your chest so she can listen to your heartbeat, so she doesn’t have to look at you straight after, too. A gentle press of your lips to the crown of her head and your hand in her tresses is all she needs before her body relaxes under the sheets. There are no words spoken, but there doesn’t need to be. Not right now. It’s not like she can speak right now either, not with her current state, which is, well.. the only sound in the room is the sound of your stifled giggles, and her soft snoring.

[buckyalpine]

Catch Me If You Can 3/3

Mob!Bucky x Single mom Police officer reader

Warnings: 

I really like this AU so while this is the final part, BUT I will write stuff for these two here and there (like the proposal and so much more I have in my head for them) 

Part 1

Part 2

- 

Your heart stopped as you stood near the door, hearing the conversation between your son and Bucky. The rest of what they were saying was drowned out with a dull buzz filling your ears, all your emotions coursing through your body all at once. 

Dad.

A word Jordan had resented all is life, only associating the term with a man who wanted nothing to do with him. Dad meant loneliness, fear, abandonment, abuse. 

Dad was something he never had an interest in. 

No one you had ever dated in the past was worthy of being in Jordan’s life, something you put first whenever you went out. Not one person had made it even close to meeting him let alone standing in as a father figure to him. You soon accepted that your life would be just you and him until he grew up and had his own family as well.

But now?

Dad.

And Bucky, of all people. 

You didn’t even realize tears were streaming down your face until you felt a drop slip onto your collarbone, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth and rushing to your bedroom, shutting the door. You buried your face in your hands, your heart twisting at the thought of how safe your son must have felt around Bucky. How he loved spending time with the mob boss, never wanting to leave, feeling like he was at home more and more each day. 

He wasn’t the only one. 

-

It wasn’t shock that Bucky felt. 

It was pain.

Pain that he saw Jordan as his own but couldn’t take on that role. 

Pain where whenever he spent time with either of you, he’d never want it to end, finding any excuse under the sun to get you to stay. 

But how could he feel all that when you were both from two different worlds, one where the two couldn’t mix. 

If only. 

“I think you should ask mama bear how she’d feel about that” Bucky softly ruffled his hair while Jordan made a thinking face before nodding to himself. He was well aware that uncle Bucky wasn’t exactly in the all clear but he wasn’t blind either. You definitely used less no-no words when talking about Bucky. You’d mumble something occasionally, but he caught the little smile that graced your lips, often rolling his eyes when you’d try to wipe it off immediately after. 

“I don’t think she wants to arrest you anymore but I can’t make any promises. Mommy takes her job very seriously” Jordan downed the rest of his juice while Bucky chuckled, nodding his head. 

“Mama is very good at her job, she puts away the bad guys”

“But you’re a good guy” Jordan shrugged, continuing to work on his homework, hoping to revisit the topic later. 

As soon as Jordan was ready for bed and tucked in, you went down to the kitchen for a late night snack, book in hand with your silk robe tied around your body. You figured everyone had gone to sleep, allowing yourself to lounge in something that made you feel good, the outfit on the racier side. You set your mug down on the marble counter top, popping a strawberry into your mouth and opening your book, too engrossed in the story to hear the footsteps that padded down the hall. 

Bucky blinked as soon as he walked in the kitchen, stopping dead in his tracks when his eyes fell on you. Wrapped in silk. Your lips stained with sweet berry juice. Your plush thighs on full display. In his kitchen. Where he could bend you over the counter-

He mentally flicked himself in the ear, letting out a cough to announce his presence, hoping some blood would flowback to his brain before you shot his dick off. Your eyes flicked up, your heart jolting at the sight of a very shirtless Bucky, his t-shirt slung over his shoulder, joggers riding low on his hips. Sweat glistened off his tan skin, the veins on his forearms prominent from the workout he just had. 

“Thought everyone was asleep” You wrapped your roble a little tighter around yourself, ignoring the butterflies that rabidly bounced around your stomach, willing your eyes to look away from the dark trail of hair on his stomach that lead right down to his-

“Couldn’t sleep” Bucky broke you out of your filthy train of thoughts as he walked to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and debating on dumping it on his head to calm himself down. “I had an interesting conversation with the little one” He murmured, taking a swing from the water bottle, struggling to take his eyes off the way you fit so perfectly in his home, so pretty in silk, the type of thing he’d want to come home to everyday-

“I heard” You nodded, taking a long sip of tea, trying to calm your racing heart.  Everything about him was perfect, except for the fact that his entire being was dedicated to a life of crime. While Jordan didn’t tell you about his request to call Bucky something different, he did talk your ear off about uncle Steve and Bucky’s motor bike collection. “Didn’t realize you’d all be so good with kids”

Bucky chuckled, equally surprised with himself over how easy it was for him to move with Jordan. It came naturally. He’d thought about having a family before but this was the first time he saw himself as a father-

Stop.

You’re not his dad. 

“Again, I’m part of the mob sweets, not a monster. Family comes first” 

You hummed, before continuing, “So how did that conversation go?” 

“Asked him what his pretty mama would think” Bucky tossed you a charming smirk which you rolled your eyes to, biting down hard on your lip to keep from smiling. 

“In those exact words Barnes?” 

“It’s definitely what I was thinking” Bucky shrugged while you took another swing of tea to stifle a giggle. Neither of you said anything else, quietly continuing what you were doing unable to look each other in the eye. Jordan sat at the top of the stairs, smacking his forehead before trudging back to bed. Clearly he wasn’t the only one who adored his mommy. 

Something about that night had changed things. You still maintained that the nature of your relationship was strictly because of Jordan's safety and nothing else. You’d even once jokingly cuffed Bucky, much to his surprise, his eyes growing wide when he found himself pinned against the wall, caught off guard with how swiftly you were able to hold him down. 

He felt goosebumps erupt over his skin when you teasingly whispered his rights before uncuffing him and twirling the metal in your hands. Jordan found it hilarious, while Bucky was left a babbling mess, insisting he let you arrest him and that you’d never actually be able to disarm him so easily if he fought back. 

In fact, he even insisted you try again.

And again.

And again.

Steve once had to slowly pull Jordan away, distracting him with another kinder egg, worrying your latest arrest would turn into something else, watching Bucky’s pupils dilate with the clink of the cuffs wrapping around his wrist. He also noticed the way you smirked, your hands lingering on him for longer than necessary for a lawful arrest. 

- 

“You like my mom” 

Bucky’s eyes shot up, staring at the little thing that was sprawled out on the office floor, putting together Lego’s, the mop of dark hair popping up and staring directly at him. 

“What?”

“You like mommy, your face does that pink thing whenever your near her, even when she tries to put you in jail. Have you no shame” 

Steve cackled from the corner, while Bucky stood like a fish gaping out of water, his cheeks blushing heavily again. 

“You’re doing it right now” Jordan narrowed his eyes while Bucky helplessly tried to make his face less pink, the color only getting worse. “You like her” 

Well, the little devil spawn wasn’t wrong, there was no doubt Bucky was harboring a school boy crush on you, growing worse each day.

“And she likes you” Jordan stated, “so what are you going to do about it” He set down the Lego pieces and crossed his arms over his chest, making it clear he wasn’t going to let Bucky weasel his way out of this. Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, realizing he hadn’t been as subtle as he thought while your son continued to stare at him. 

“J, it’s complicated, it’s hard for your to understand- your mom- and me- she-”

“I’m sure it takes a real Sherlock to understand why mommy doesn’t want to date her sworn enemy” Jordan dead panned, giving Bucky another pointed look, not needing anyone to break down for him why there was so much unspoken tension between you two. 

His mom was a police officer.

She followed the rules.

She respected the law.

Bucky didn’t follow the rules. 

The law meant nothing to him. 

You weren’t exactly a match made in heaven.

But Jordan wasn’t blind to the way you also got giggly around Bucky no matter how hard you tried not to. It wasn’t often he saw his mama looked so happy and relaxed. If his favorite new uncle made you swoon, who was he to stand in the way of true love and getting a new daddy. 

“You like her. She likes you. Right?” 

“Okay so it’s not complicated” Bucky huffed while Jordan nodded, expecting uncle Bucky to walk over to you right that instant and profess his feelings out in the open. “But I don’t think I fit into her life like that though kid” He tried but Jordan wasn’t having any of it. 

“Ugh, but she has no life!" Jordan rolled his eyes while Steve wheezed, watching Bucky single handedly get taken down by someone that was a quarter of his size. “All she used to do is work and help me with homework and complain about you” He got up from his place on the floor and sat in the office chair opposite to Bucky. “And she still complains about you but now she giggles in between and she doesn’t call you that word that rhymes with mother tucker”  

“What does she call me now” Bucky’s curiosity piqued while Jordan scrunched his nose. 

“Welllll, why don’t’cha get yourself arrested again and see what she says” He kicked his feet innocently, looking at the mob boss in the eye, “Uncle Steve, he’s blushing again” Jordan shot out an accusatory finger while Steve howled, giving your son a high five. 

“That’s my little man, you tell him” 

“I’m trying to but he’s still sitting here drinking expensive spicy apple juice” 

“You know too much for your age” Bucky rubbed his temples, torn between what his next steps would be and actually considering Jordan’s advice to have you cuff him. 

What he wouldn’t do to have your hands on-

“You don’t know enough” Jordan countered, plucking the juice box he left on the table, taking a long sip, happy to have his uncle Steve as an ally. 

All it took was a threatening phone call from your ex’s sister for Bucky to get you to stay even longer on his insistence. He didn’t care that she lived in an entirely different continent or that she was a delusional loon; he’d use any excuse possible to keep you near by. 

“James, she lives in another country-

“Doesn’t matter”

“I’ve already stayed a month!”

“Stay another”

“But-

“No” 

You didn’t like that your feelings were getting harder and harder to contain, your moral compass going haywire, trying to figure out what to do. Seeing Bucky with Jordan pained you the most. Your baby boys eyes would light up as soon as he’d hear the mob boss walk through the door, your heart swelling each time you saw Bucky parading around the house, carrying him on his shoulders. Steve, Sam and Peter didn’t help either, the three of them taking care of Jordan just as much as you did when they weren’t off on illegal shady antics, their line of work as wholesome and innocent as your son when he claimed he only had one kinder egg.

Bald faced liars, all of them. 

You felt loved, safe and alone at the same time, conflicted over which direction to follow, your heart screaming to just look the other way at the wrong things he did. But that wasn’t the job. That wasn’t what you stood for. You took an oath to protect innocent lives and accepting full on gang activity didn’t align with that. 

Did it? 

Though Jordan wasn’t having any of it either, noticing more and more tension building between the both of you, more longing glances and lingering touches each time you were near one another. 

If neither of you were going to do anything about it, he’d have to take matters into his own little hands. 

Like tonight. 

You found it strange that Jordan had insisted on only going out with Steve, Sam and Peter, your little one usually following Bucky around the most. He insisted he was perfectly fine with only going with these three, also throwing in that uncle Bucky was very very busy with lots of meetings, therefore couldn't join them for the movie they were going to see. You were hesitant at first but he gave you little room for argument. 

“Jordan, the screen here is literally bigger than the movie theater anyway-

“But moooommy, pleeaaseeee?” He gave you his best puppy eyes and pout, something he seemed to perfect from his latest idol, jumping on you when you finally agreed, though not trusting why Sam, Steve and Peter looked equally giggly and guilty. They left for the day, giving you a night to relax in the quiet mansion. 

You decided to pamper yourself, taking advantage of the large tub in the guest bathroom, filling it up with essential oils and bath salts, letting out a content sigh feeling the hot water ease your muscles. You stayed there till the water felt cold, rinsing off and toweling off. You moisturized and slipped on one of your nicer silk robes, figuring you could wear your pj’s later when you actually went to bed.

Not like anyone was home now anyway. 

You went down to the kitchen to grab some tea before heading back to your room, curious to find the office door cracked open; typically closed when Bucky was working. 

Was he working? 

“I see you’re busy” You poked your head into Bucky’s dimly lit office to find him lounging with a book, sipping on dark amber liquid, wearing a soft tshirt and joggers, clearly the opposite of busy with lots and lots of meetings. 

You’d have a word with your little one later. 

“Where did everyone go” Bucky cocked an eyebrow at the surprisingly silent house, mentally holding himself back as you stepped into his office in your robe again, desperately wanting to pounce on you. his eyes lingered on you, swallowing thickly noting he couldn’t see your sleep shorts from under the robe, were you wearing nothing underneath- 

“My baby was an angel before he met you” You shook your head at your sons sneaky work of finding a way to get you and Bucky together alone. “He said you were busy today and then took off with your henchmen, they’ve been out for hours” 

“Smart kid” Bucky snorted, secretly proud of the little mob boss in the making, though you’d probably serve his head on a platter if you heard his thoughts. “Want a drink?” He held up his glass, getting up to grab you one as well, dropping a few ice cubes in the crystal. 

You bit your lip as you approached him, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell you felt like you had been doused in lava, your heart beating a mile a minute with the thick tension that hung in the air. A drink meant nothing; he offered it to you because he was polite. You’d have your drink and then your ass right back to your room because if you waited there a second longer, with him in those fitting sweats- 

“You look very busy yourself, officer” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, nodding at your clothing, or lack thereof, shamelessly letting his eyes wander up and down your body while he handed you the glass, clinking it with yours before taking a long drag. 

“Hmm, took advantage of the peace and quiet and clawfoot tub” You licked the drop of whiskey that clung to your lips, letting the burn distract your brain yelling at you to run while your heart wrapped bricks around your ankles, keeping you in place. “It was nice. I’ll miss it when we go back home” 

You threw the last bit out there as a reminder for yourself; none of this was forever. All good things would have to come to and end at some point. Bucky felt his stomach drop at the thought; each day he’d find any excuse he could to have you stay just one extra day.

Just one extra day to bicker with you.

One extra day to spend with the little one.

One extra day to get on your nerves.

One extra day to spend with the family he’d always thought he’d have one day. 

“You don’t have to go any time soon” Bucky whispered, unsure if he wanted you to hear those words, taking a step closer to you, “Stay...a little longer?” 

“You say that a lot, I might just end up staying forever” You let out a breathless laugh, feeling the warmth of the alcohol relax your muscles, giving into the pull you felt towards him. 

“Would that be so bad?” He smirked but the inside of him was on his knees, begging for a chance, just one. 

“It-it would-” you couldn’t find the words, stumbling over them, getting lost in the baby blues gazing down at you, his eyes darting between yours and your lips. You didn’t realize you were leaning in, your body following what it needed, morals and ethics be damned. 

“I know its not just me” Bucky whispered, hesitantly putting his hand on your waist to pull you closer, wanting to feel your soft lips on his, hug you and cuddle you, make you his. He didn’t want just one night, he wanted this for life. “Tell me you feel the same way” 

You felt your throat tighten, your body tensing in his hold as he rested his forehead against yours, your nose bumping against his. He held you even closer to him, your hands gripping onto his shirt feeling his warm breath gently fan onto your face, his lips just brushing against yours, just as soft as you’d imagined they’d be. You nearly gave into him, pulling away at the last second, tears rolling down your cheeks.  

“What’s wrong, doll”

“We can’t-” You shook, hanging your head, overwhelmed over what all of this entailed, what this would mean to you, what you would do if this didn’t work, your baby boy came first- 

“We can” Bucky cupped your cheeks, breaking you away from your spiral, swiping away the tears that fell, “We can baby, I promise we can” 

“How- how do we make this work James, we come from two different worlds” You tried to reason with him but again this was more to yourself; how could you drop your entire life for this, risk everything for something so uncertain even though your heart yearned for it. 

“Princess, I will show you everything, every damn thing under my name, I know it’s not perfect, but just let me show you. All of it. No secrets from you, not one. I promise, I won’t hurt you, not your baby, I care about you. I care about you both” 

“James-”

“Just give me a chance”  His grip around your waist tightened, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close, bringing one hand to cradle your face, tilting it to look up at him. “C’mon sweets, you’ve been chasing after me for ages” He smirked against your lips, kissing them softly. “Now you got me” 

“Then we take things slow” You stated firmly, pressing your finger into his chest, “and no funny business Barnes” You swatted his hand away when he trailed them to the hem of your robe, brushing your bare thigh making goosebumps erupt all over your skin. He chuckled at the pointed look you gave him, trying and failing at hiding how turned on you were. “And Jordan can’t know yet” His face softened, nodding in agreement, understanding where you were coming from.  

“Just me and you” He kissed you again, gentle and sweet, a promise of taking things your way, baring his heart and soul to you in any way you asked. It didn’t matter how badly he wanted to claim you in every way, make you his at the alter if you let him, be a daddy to your baby boy. He’d wait as long as you needed. 

“Just me and you”  

-

Steve and Sam had easily put two and two together as soon as they got back home, noting their boss was smiling like an idiot to himself most of the time, a stark contrast from his signature grumpy scowl. They never said anything, but they did pride themselves as being part o the reason this happened; after all they were the ones who conspired with your little one to get you two alone. 

If Bucky was sweet before, he was tooth rottingly adorable now but only when it was just the two of you. You didn’t dare breathe a word to Jordan, not wanting to give him false hope if things didn’t work out. Truthful to his word, he came clean about everything. With each of his confessions, the world turned into different shades of grey instead of black and white. 

Nothing he did was legal. 

Nor was it hurting those who were innocent.

Your dead beat of an ex had a clean criminal record and was a standup citizen until it came to being a father and decent human being. Your son hardly thought twice about him. Bucky had killed more people than fingers on your hands but Jordan adored him. 

When it was just the two of you, Bucky turned into a teddy bear, constantly kissing and hugging you, romantic as ever when he got the chance. He’d send the cooks away so he could make dinner, run you a bath when you had a long day, massage your feet while you sat on his desk in his office. He’d be on calls, the phone resting between his shoulder and ear while his calloused fingers would work at your toes, gently rubbing and pressing the aches out, before massaging up your calves. As soon as you heard the patter of little feet down the hall, you’d hop off and slink away, hiding the smile on your face when your son would take your place instead, plopping himself in Bucky’s office noting he was blushing again for some reason. 

You still hadn’t been intimate with him yet. As much as he wanted you, Bucky didn’t let you feel an ounce of pressure, no matter how badly he wanted to love on you completely and show you exactly how much he adored you in the closest way possible. He relished in every second he got to spend with you, especially the select nights he got alone with you. 

Like tonight. 

“Promise you’ll try and be nice to Uncle Bucky?” Jordan cocked his head with hopeful eyes, still hoping his ship would sail of getting you both together. Thus far, nothing seemed to have changed and his hopes were starting to drop. “Please?”

“I’ll try” you giggled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before he slipped into the dark SUV with Bucky’s side pieces in tow, Sam, Steve and Peter all grinning widely for a boys trip over the weekend. “No promises though baby” 

“Yeah officer, play nice with our boss” Steve winked while Sam cackled, closing the door and revving off, leaving the large mansion absolutely empty. The cleaning staff, gardeners s and cooks had been given the weekend off along with a generous bonus to keep them away for a few days. You slipped into one of Bucky’s t-shirts which hung loosely on you, not bothering to wear anything else underneath. You inhaled the soft scent of the fabric, his cologne and something distinctly him lingering on the fabric making you feel warm and fuzzy. The sound of keys hitting the keyboard carried through the hall; Bucky typing away at his computer but you couldn’t help wanting to be wrapped up in his arms, quietly peeking into his office and padding over to him. 

“My pretty girl” He cooed, scooping you in his arms while you curled up on his lap, playing with his chains as he continued to work. “You miss me, baby?” 

“You wish” You bit your lip, playfully rolling your eyes, knowing damn well you had missed him like crazy after he holed himself up with work business. “Don’t flatter yourself” 

“You’re the one slinking around me, kitten” Bucky tilted your chin up pecking a tiny kiss on your nose, making you giggle. “C’mon, I wanna cuddle with my girl” He murmured in your ear making you shiver. He held you to his chest as he picked you up and carried you over to his room, setting you down on his bed before walking over to the closet and slipping on some sweats. He didn’t bother with a shirt, striding with his grey joggers riding low around his waist, giving you a pretty view of his Adonis belt, pointing straight to his-

“Angel” He crawled on top of you, humming at the feeling of your soft body under his, peppering kisses from your neck to your jaw, eventually pressing them against your lips. The kiss started soft and slowly, gradually getting more heated when you grazed his scalp with your nails, gasping at the feeling of his erection pressing against your clothed core. You instinctively moved your thighs further apart, granting him more access to rut against you, panting each time he groaned, his tongue slipping into your mouth. 

He didn’t pull away until he needed air, his warm breath fanning against your face, hearts beating erratically. This had been the closest you’d ever been with each other, your thighs gently squeezing around his waist, making him thrust against you, drawing a out a moan. Bucky lost himself for a moment, gently caressing his thumb on your cheek, the other hand cradling your head, his large frame keeping you safely tucked underneath him, hidden from the rest of the world.

Exactly what he wanted.

Safe in his arms. 

“Do you want this?” Bucky stopped what he was doing to check on you, his hand still softly stroking your skin. “We can stop, we don’t have to do this tonight-

“Don’t stop” you whispered, pulling him back, your arms clinging around his shoulders, eyes pleading for him to do something.

“I’ve wanted this for so long baby” He sat back on his heels, toying with the hem of your tshirt, his thick cock straining against painfully against his sweats. “Can I?” He waited for your permission before carefully removing your top off and ridding himself of his sweats and boxers, desperately just wanting to feel your bare skin against his. You felt too needy, too desperate for him, whining when he pulled away to settled between your legs, pressing a delicate kiss to your inner thigh. 

“Just want you James, please?” You pouted, feeling empty when his leaky cock was right there, though his sinful mouth was tempting. 

“Just one taste, angel?” He begged, inching down to your soaked pussy, spreading your folds apart before sealing his lips around your swollen clit, his eyes rolling back at the way your legs suffocated him. 

“J-James” You moaned out, your hand going down to tug at his roots, grinding your pussy on his face, his groans adding vibrations to your sensitive nub. He felt greedy, burying his tongue deep in your cunt, lapping and drinking every drop your body was willing to give, his arms coming up to hold your legs apart, his head shaking side to side. He sucked and licked until you were a babbling mess, clawing at his shoulders to pull him back on top of you, bucking your hips up against his thick hard length. 

“What do you need, pretty baby” Bucky cooed, soothing your whimpers with his cock rubbing through your folds, hushing you gently. 

“Want you James, please?” 

“I got you sweets, don’t worry, you ready?” He kept his eyes locked with yours, holding still until you nodded, the blunt tip of his cock pushing into your pulsating entrance. 

“Oh fuck-” You cried at the way his girth started to fill you, your pussy tightly hugging his cock, a gentle delicious burn radiating through your lower half, stretching open for him. “Baby-”

“Shhhh” Bucky continued to slowly inch inside you, pressing soft kisses along your neck, his body weight resting on top of you, “It’s just me sweets, just your Bucky” 

“Fuck, Bucky” Your nails dug into his shoulders, nearly breaking the skin, hissing at the way you could almost feel him in your belly.  

“Breathe, Its just you and me baby, just you and me, yeah?” He kissed your temple, feeling just as desperate and needy as you, his cock throbbing at the way it felt to hold you, kiss you, feel all of you, be inside you. 

“Just-just you and me” You whispered, clinging onto his body as he continued to press into you, groaning at the way your pussy fluttered around him, pulling him deeper. 

“Thats my good girl” His large hand held your thigh up higher on his waist, fully sheathing himself inside you. Bucky panted against your neck in an attempt to calm himself down, feeing his balls already pulling towards his body, his cock thumping, ready to blow. He started with slow languid thrusts, savoring the pretty moans you made for him, your softness connected to him. 

“Such a pretty mama” His lips brushed against yours, loving the soft touch of your skin, his hands feeling every inch of your body. He sat back on his heels, keeping his cock deep inside you, groaning at the sight of your body on full display just for him, your lip caught between your teeth, feeling hot under his intense gaze. 

“Fuck- Fuck right there baby, please, right there!” You sobbed in pleasure as Bucky moved your thighs up, practically folding you in half, hitting an even deeper angle, rubbing perfectly at your gspopt. “Don’t-don’t stop-” 

“I won’t stop, mama” He traced the delicate lines of stretch marks that were scattered across your lower belly and thighs, evidence of the sweet baby boy your body had given you, the boy he also now grew to love. “Wanted to make love to you for so long baby. wanted you to feel how much I care about you, make you feel so good” Bucky’s emotions were all over the place, feeling pleasure and love for you at an all time high. 

His eyes were locked at there the two of you connected, snapping his hips forward, watching your tummy bulge with each thrust, cream covering the trimmed curls at his base. Your broken moans spurred him off, collapsing on top of you with your legs slung over his shoulders, his cock impossibly deep. His hands snaked up to pin your arms above your head, your fingers intertwined with his, keeping you completely surrendered to him. 

“I love you” He whispered, voice thick with emotion, foreheads pressed together, not a single part of your body not touching his. “and everything you brought into this world” 

“I-I love you” You half sobbed and stuttered out, eyes rolling back feeling him work his hips faster, pushing you against the pillows and pounding you into the mattress. “FUCK-JAMIE-THERE-R-RIGHT-TH-THERE”

“S’that your spot babygirl? Right there, huh angel, god you make me wanna blow, you sound so pretty with my cock in you” Bucky groaned, no longer able to hold back, moaning along with you, the sound of skin slapping on skin growing faster and louder. “Fuck-cum baby, cum on this dick, cum on my dick, s’all yours angel, give me that cream” 

“YES-YES-OH-Jamiee!” Your back bowed, legs shaking and trembling as your orgasm started to pulse, waves of please growing more and more intense as he fucked you through your high. Your greedy pussy sucked him in deeper, pulling him closer and closer. 

“Yeah, m’your Jamie baby” Bucky let out a soft chuckle at the new name you’d given him, one only you’d ever be able to use. It got him off more, his pace losing rhythm, his own climax just at the edge. “Just your Jamie angel, only for you, fuck baby, m’gonna cum for you, all this is for you” He tucked his face into the crook of your neck, moaning loudly and nipping against your skin as he started to pump you full of his cum, giving you sloppy thrusts, making sure you were filled with every drop. 

You cooed and rubbed his body while he panted, his cock slowly beginning to soften, tucking himself further into your hold. You smiled at how soft and loving he was in that moment, pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead, his blue eyes peering up at you at the feeling of your lips. 

“Look at my pretty girl being all sweet on me” He grinned, yelping at the pinch you gave to his side. 

“Don’t make me cuff you, Barnes” You huffed while pink dusted his cheeks at the thought, his mind now going other places. 

“Threatening me with a good time, sweetheart?” He smirked, wrapping his arms around you and rolling over, pinning you back against the mattress again, this time his hands locking around your wrists. “S’that what you want pretty girl? To have my in cuffs? Do everything you ask? Be a good girl for me and I’ll let you have your way with me one day officer” 

“Be a good girl for you?” You smirked, wrapping your legs around his waist, bucking your hips up against his sensitive cock, making him hiss, nipping your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whimper. 

“Careful babygirl, don’t forget who you’re in bed with” His lips continued to brush against you, grazing your skin down to your collar bone. “Let me remind you, sweets” 

-

As soon as the boys were back, Jordan ran full speed to you, jumping in your arms first, talking your ear off about all the ridiculous antics he had done with Steve, Sam and Peter. You huffed, playfully rolling your eyes while keeping him on your hip, before setting him down on his feet and instructing him to wash up so he could tell you everything properly over dinner. Jordan clung onto you for just a second longer, he could’ve sworn there was a faint scent of cologne that clung onto you, one just like- 

While you were entranced with your little one, Bucky was entranced with you. Effortlessly swaying with your baby who was clearly not exactly a tiny baby anymore, the scrunch on of your nose when you smiled around him, the way your eyes sparkled. Jordan ran up two steps at a time to shower as fast as humanly possible while Bucky snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you to his chest, his sneaky hands pawing at your hips, slipping up your shirt. 

“You’re such a milf” Bucky smirked while you gasped, smacking his chest, eyes darting around the room to see if anyone heard. 

“Bucky” You hissed, squeaking, your face growing hot when he hugged you tighter, burying his face into your hair. 

“It’s true though princess, God damn” He kissed up the side of your neck, “Such a pretty mama, can’t help it” 

“Yeah, well your little side kick is going to want to tell you all about the weekend” You giggled, wiggling out of his hold and walking off to the kitchen to get dinner started while Bucky hummed, making his way to the office. Jordan scrubbed himself down within seconds before rushing back down to tell you everything, eyeing you curiously while you set his plate in front of him. 

“Isn’t that Uncle Bucky’s shirt?” He pipped up, with owlish eyes, waiting for your asnwer.

“Oh-so it is” You looked down at the black tshirt you were wearing, one that went to the middle of your thighs. “Uh-Must’ve gotten mixed up in the laundry” You shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t ask anything else.

As if you’d ever get so lucky. 

“But it’s so big on you-”

“Tell me about your weekend baby” You cut him off while Jordan narrowed his eyes at you accusingly, deciding he’d have better luck elsewhere instead of prying with you. He gave you his best summarized version before running back upstairs and taking his designated spot beside Bucky (going to the fridge first to grab himself some juice). 

“Mommy was wearing your shirt” He stated, inching closer to Bucky, noting the way the Mob bosses’ eyes grew wide, his cheeks blushing deeply, crawling down his neck and up to his ears. 

“I-Uh-Oh-” 

Not once had Jordan ever see Bucky get flustered except when it involved you, his hopes growing high again, also why did Bucky smell like your shampoo-

“Maybe-maybe it got switched in the laundry?” 

“You never do laundry, the cleaners do”

“They were away this weekend, J”

“So it was just you and mommy” 

“Yup” 

“Whatcha do”

“......work”

“What did mommy do”

“....laundry?” 

“The whole weekend?”

“Yup”

“You smell like her”

*silence*

*Blushing intensifies* 

*Little shy smile creeps on Bucky’s face* 

“Did you finally tell mommy you like her?  Oh God, you’re pink again” Jordan sat right up, eyes wide with anticipation while Bucky bit his lip before answering. 

“I did”

“So...”

“So?”

“Can I call you dad, now?” Jordan’s voice was a whisper again, the confidence he had all this time turning into nervousness, playing with his fingers, avoiding Bucky’s eyes. Bucky felt his heart melt, pulling him onto his lap, pressing a gentle kiss to his head, the little one curling himself up slightly, still looking at his hands. Bucky felt warmth all over, thinking back to a conversation he had with you a little while ago, just before Jordan had came home, one that would stick with him for the rest of his life. 

“Are you sure this is what you want” You asked hesitantly, toying with the hem of your pj’s while Bucky tilted your face up to look at him, hearing the anxiety in your voice.

“What do you mean?”  “It’s not just me Bucky, it’s both of us” You whispered, wondering if Bucky fully understood what he was signing up for. “I-I don’t want you to ever feel like-like he isn’t yours. I know he’s not and I know you care about him but I’m scared you’ll want us now and then later you won’t-” Bucky softly pressed his finger to your lips, silencing you, not willing to hear another word. 

“Where is this coming from” He held you closer while you nervously chewed your lip. 

“I’m a single mom. My job isn’t the most attractive. I’m not the first person people line up to date. I didn’t do any of this for so long because I’m terrified anyone that comes into my life will leave and I can’t do that to Jordan-”

“That’s my baby now too” His hands held your cheeks firmly, each of his words coming straight from his soul. “I want to be there for him sweetheart, if you’d let me. If you ever want me out, I won’t .Just say the word, I’m here”

“It’ll be a lot Bucky”

“What haven’t I seen yet, baby” Bucky shrugged while you began to list reasons.  “Sometimes he’s moody”

“So is his mommy-OW”

“Sometimes he can have a temper-Don’t you dare say it”

“Occasional picky eater”

“He’s still learning how to multiply” 

“He’ll be a teenager in a few years”

“He’ll want to drive the SUV”

“He’ll want to try the spicy apply juice” 

“He thinks your a hero” 

“You’ll be there?”

“I’ll be there” 

“S’that what you want?” Bucky decided to ask Jordan one more time, giving your baby the choice to take it back if it wasn’t something he was sure about but your son eagerly nodded, his face splitting into a grin. He leapt off the sofa sprinting off down the hall, his voice echoing through the mansion. 

“MOMMY, DADDY SAID I COULD CALL HIM DAD. UNCLE STEVE, OUR PLAN WORKED” 

-

“You went from trying to stick him in prison to life to being stuck with him for life, how the turn tables” 

You groaned, doing a terrible job and hiding the smile that crept on your face, your partner waving to the black SUV that was parked outside, waiting for you while you packed your things for the end of the day. 

“Just to be clear, we’re no longer trying to arrest him right? You looooove him” You threw a pad of sticky notes at your partners head while she cackled, green eyes twinkling. 

“Shut up, Romanoff” 

“Set me up with his cute best friend, that blonde cutie sitting in the front seat” She cocked an eyebrow while you snorted, nodding to your boss as he walked by your desk. 

“Took you long enough” Your boss playfully rolled his eyes, sending you a wink before making his way to his office.  You smiled at the pretty blue eyes that watched you as you walked over, holding the door open and closing it for you, lips all over your face as soon as the locks clicked shut. 

“Have a good day at work, officer?” He chuckled, pulling you to his lap, nuzzling into you while you sighed contently, tossing your gun and badge aside, melting into Bucky’s arms. You giggled at the glitter that was dusted into his hair after he spent the previous night helping Jordan with a school project, ruffling your hands through his soft locks, pulling him down for a long kiss. “Let’s go home”  

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[fishsticksloser]

If it's alright - And if it's not then i understand if you're going to delete this - to request about Rise! Future! Leonardo x Rabbit yokai!fem!Reader? (NSFW S3x), where Leonardo and reader get into roleplaying as cowboy Shierff and an outlaw female criminal. Leonardo is the dominating one while reader is the submit side.

And yes it would involve things like; ropes tying, rough S3x, Leonardo getting to cowboy accent (?)

/ 🐔 Anon reader /

If You Can't Be Good, Be Bad With Me

f!Leo x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut with a tiny plot, p in v, rough sex, light bondage (handcuffs), ear and tail pulling, spanking, slight Sir kink, Leo has a country accent, Leo calls you a good/bad girl (sue me...), rabbit yo'kai!reader, FAKE guns, swearing, enemies to lovers if you squint really really hard

A/N: I've spent like 2 months writing this because I was just sitting there looking at it and going "wtf do I do?" But here you are, so sorry for the wait. I actually threw out the first draft because I hated it so much... This is a little different than the prompt and I apologize, my brain couldn't do it. :/

"My, my, my... What have we here?" Leonardo's voice was deep, soothing, and with a faint drawl that spoke of Texas. His words were slow and measured, just before he'd bring the hammer down with that thunderous attention. Leo squinted at you, narrowing his gaze before slowly walking towards you. "You look like you're on the wrong side of the law there, doll." Leo stops in front of you, hands on his hips just above his holsters. "What're you doin' on this here land, Miss?"

"Doin' what I can to survive, sheriff." You answer, continuing to stuff your pockets and bag with whatever was in reach. You seemed completely unbothered that the sheriff was standing over and watching you. "Is that a crime?"

"Well yes, it is." Leo responds cooly, his stance loose and relaxed despite you obviously committing a crime. His hands hover over his holsters, his tone becomes more intimidating. "The punishment for those crimes tends to be less uh... agreeable. And yet... I could be lenient with you." Leo's face softens as he looks down at the small, humanoid rabbit. He kneels down to get a better look. "And what exactly is in your pockets, little one? Come now, let's have a look."

You open your bag and empty your pockets. Its not like you were stealing much of anything really. Some bread and not so valuable things like knick knacks and trinkets. Nothing that's really worth anything.

"No guns?" He mutters, eyeing you up and down with a sly, teasing smirk. "That makes things so much sweeter." Leo's eyes twinkle in the sunlight as he stand up. His gaze seems to study every little crevice in your face, taking note of your expressions, trying to figure out everything about you. "You're not from these parts, are ya, darlin'? What's your pretty face doin' so far down south?"

"Got kicked outta town for not marryin' my suitor. Left with nothin'." You repond, repacking your bag and pockets. "Train only took me this far..."

"Not bein' married? Why, now that's a crime against the holy union of man and woman, darlin', 'specially out here." Leo shakes his head placing a hand on his face, feigning disgust. His other hand still rests on his holster. "Can't just leave you out here in this hot dust storm." Leo's eyes flicker up to your face and he grins widely.

"I've got nowhere to go." You say, pleading. "Please just let me go, I'll... I'll go find a place to settle down and be law abiding."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't let that happen, darlin'," Leo responds, his tone slowly becoming slightly more forceful. "The folks 'round these parts say you've done some unsavory and illegal things. I can't just let a law-breaker roam free like that." Leo seems to enjoy your pleas, leaning in more. He leans his body close to yours, whispering close to your ear. "Unless you want to do something for me..."

"And what would that be, sir?" You ask quietly, a shiver running down your spine as his breath fans over your ear. Leo grins as he leans in, his lips inches from your ear.

"You could do all sorts of things for me. It's such a shame for a pretty little thing like you to be caught for crimes you definitely didn't do. But, I'm feeling generous today, and, as the local lawman, I can definitely overlook your sins, darlin'." The corner of his lips curl into a smug grin. "All for a few private favors from you."

"You catch my drift?" He asks, his voice talking on a more predatory tone as his fingers graze down your waist and back. His hot breath caresses down the back of your neck, his eyes burning into your form before glancing back at your own. "Such a delicate, pretty thing..."

"Yes, sir. I understand." You mutter, your ears standing tall and twitching slightly.

"Good girl." He whispers as he leans in close. "And you know if you do well, maybe I could be generous and let you off of that punishment." Leo's voice comes out low and smooth, almost sultry as he leans back just enough to let his fingers stroke along the side of your face. "All you have to do is play nice, understand?"

"Yes, sir." You nod firmly, his eyes seem to study you once more. His fingers slide down and grasp your chin, gently tilting your face upwards as his other hand reaches for your waist.

"Good girl." He says, his eyes burn like hot coals as he bring your face inches from his. "And you know, when I get back to town, I have to write a report. And if I see my girl following through with our little arrangement, I'll make sure they know what a good girl you've been. If you're a good girl. Got it, darlin'?"

Who knew you'd end up here?

"Yes, sir."

"Mm... That's a good girl." Leo whisper as he closes the last few inches between you and him, pushing his lips against yours in a quick but firm kiss. He pulls back slowly before speaking. "You don't mind if I let these hands wander now, do you, darlin'?"

"No, sir." You mumble as he kisses you again, eyes fluttering closed and your hands move to cup the back of his head. Leo grins as he continues to kiss you, his body slightly tilting to get a better grip on you. HIs right hand wraps around your waist and pulls you closer as his left searches through his pocket for something. He fumbles around for a bit more before pulling out a pair of handcuffs.

"Oh, and I almost forgot. Can't be letting my pretty, lawbreaker darlin' roam free... 'specially after getting caught." He chuckles and beings to fasten your arms behind your back with the cuffs. You don't protest, letting him fit the cuffs on your wrist comfortably. "Good girl. Now, I have just the punishment in mind." He says with a smirk, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer. His other hand grips your chin as he kisses your neck softly. "Maybe I could show you what being a good girl for me would get you, darlin'. If you play your cards just right, I might be feeling generous with another reward."

You let out a small whine, basically having no other option and really not in the mood to say no. You give him a small nod and tilt your head to the side to give him better access. His lips meet your neck again, travelling upwards to finally find those sweet, soft lips of yours.

"That's an obedient girl... You know, you're lucky I like good girls. I mean, you could be in big trouble if you had been a bad girl." He whispers, his hands massaging your hips, slowly sliding them upwards. Leo decides that his lips are not the only way of satisfying the desires, sliding his hand under your dress, his fingers running over that soft, silky skin. His eyes are burning with hunger, the heat of the desert finally getting to him. The heat of his breath blowing across your body, breath mingling, your lips coming together in a hungry kiss.

꒦꒷⚔️꒷꒦

Everything's a blur, but you find yourself in the sheriff's station. Leonardo laughs a little at all that nonsense before pulling your head up enough for another kiss. He holds you by the ears, he smacks his hand harder on your ass with your tail twitching with every hit. Your dress bunched up around your waist as you bend over his desk, your legs spread wide apart, offering yourself to him completely.

The desk creaks under both of you, his lips on your neck as he rocks into you, your bodies meeting with a wet slapping sound. You're open for him. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through you, your mouth left hanging open, moans echoing throughout the room.

"Oh yeah, take that, darlin'!" He whispers, his voice thick with a low purr as he grabs on to your hips. "You're my good girl." He moves down to your ear, his lips nuzzling against it.

You moan, standing in your toes so he hits a better angle. You moan loudly as he hits that soft spot inside you. Your legs shake and you ball my fists in the part of your dress you could reach, you arms still cuffed. You feel his hand connect with your ass with a loud smack and you squeak, jolting at the sting. "Good girl," he breathes, his voice low and husky as he rocks into you harder, going a little faster. He bites on the side of your neck before whispering to you ear. "Such a good girl, darlin'.. you'll get it good.." He lets off a low hum to match the pace of his thrusts.

He brings his free hand down to your tail before giving it a light tug, laughing as you squirm and whine. "Aww, such a good, sweet thing," he sighs, his tone low and husky before biting on your neck again. "I love the way you take it so well, darlin'.. you're so good for me, such a sweet darlin'," he whispers to you, pulling you closer so he can kiss the side of your face.

He spanks you hard one final time before moving his hands over to tug on your ears, holding them tightly in his fists as he goes even harder and faster, his hips bucking aggressively to meet your thighs. "Such a good girl!" He whispers, his voice turning low and throaty as his eyes bore into yours. "Take it all, darlin'.. such a good girl!"

"C-Close, sir!" You whimper, tears falling down your cheeks. He tilts your head up to look at him, but makes sure to keep your body against the desk for him. It puts you into an uncomfortable arch.

Leonardo moans loudly, his expression turning more feral with every thrust as he rocks into you. His hips moving as forcefully as he could, he pushes harder and harder like he was trying to drive you through the desk, his free hand still holding onto your ears. Finally, his climax is about to peak and he lets out an, "Ahhhh… such a good girl, darlin'.."

At your releases, Leo lets out a groan and lets his thrusts die down a bit, pressing against your back with his chest as he slowly rocks into you. His face is buried deep into your neck, "Shhh... be a good girl.. be my good girl for me," he whispers to you, his voice low and husky. His free hand is playing with your tail, rubbing it up and down before giving it another tug for good measure and he slowly pulls out. "Such a good girl..." He murmurs, letting go of your ears and giving you a light tap on your ass.