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[taeyongdoyoung]

hide and seek

summary: your best friend chan finds you've been fantasizing about him and decides to turn those ideas into reality... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: *cracks knuckles* cnc/primal play, wolf/bunny roleplay, mention of safewords, traffic lights system (yellow used), hide and seek, mentions of pee, chasing scenario, blowjob mouthfucking, hair-grabbing, degradation, leg cramping, knees hurting, kinda realistic, unprotected sex, missionary but he holds reader down, pet names, daddy kink (like once), breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: this will be the first part in a series, i haven't decided yet how many parts, maybe three? stay tuned if you're interested 🤍 part two & part three word count: 2.5k

Chan simply asks you if he can use your laptop while you’re having a shower since his battery died and he really needs to check something work-related real quick. After doing so, he can’t help but notice the recently opened pages. He doesn’t mean to pry, really. But it’s right there. And a quick look into his best friend’s mind couldn’t hurt…could it?

He is immediately captivated by this story you’ve apparently written and keep hidden in the drafts of your blog. It’s so…sexy and unlike anything you’ve ever talked to him about.

“Dumb little bunny, thinking you can get away from me,” the big bad wolf growls in the bunny’s ear.

The bunny whimpers helplessly, trying to escape the wolf’s strong grasp but to no avail.

The wolf takes the bunny from behind mercilessly, biting her neck and using her to please his needs...

What comes at the end of the story is what shocks him the most.

“Chris, please…”

Huh? Which Chris? Chris Evans? Or maybe Hemsworth? As far as he remembers, you have always been more of a Sebastian Stan and Tom Hiddleston kinda girl but…people change, he supposes.

Until it hit him. His name is also Chris! And people do compare him to a wolf…But no, it couldn’t be…There is no way his best friend is writing stories fantasizing about him.

Unless…

He can’t imagine going on with his life without knowing the answer. So, Chan waits impatiently until you are done with your shower.

“Everything good with your work thing?” you ask him calmly once you return to your room.

“Yeah, all is good. But I found something way more interesting on your laptop,” Chan blurts out meaningfully.

The expression on your face is enough of an answer. You look completely mortified, like a true bunny that is waiting to be devoured.

“I forgot to clear my history, didn’t I?” you murmur even though you already know what Chan has seen.

“That story wasn’t about Chris Evans, was it?” Chan wants to know though he suspects what the truth is.

You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, which takes him by surprise. Gripping his hand tightly, you look so cute and pitiful. He wants to ruin you. Wait, when did those feelings show up?

“I know it was wrong, Channie, believe me. But I just couldn’t help myself, okay? Nothing else helps me get off but this fantasy. I promise I won’t do it again, please don’t end our friendship! You mean the world to me, I’m so so sorry!”

“End our friendship?” he is completely stunned by your train of thought. “Why would I? I mean, you never meant for me to see it, so I think it’s okay to have certain…fantasies. But now that I did see it, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you suggest.

“You’re right, we don’t have to talk about it. But how about I make those scenarios come to life?”

“Huh? You want to what now?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“It can’t be satisfying, dealing with all these frustrations by yourself.”

“It really isn’t…” you confess.

“Then, let me take care of you. That’s what friends are for, right?” Chan chuckles.

“Let me get this straight, you wanna re-enact my freaky fantasies while still staying friends?”

“Um, sure, why not?”

You would be a fool to agree. This could mess up everything. But you would be an even bigger fool to reject his tempting offer.

“I’m in.”

“Great! Then, should we discuss boundaries and safewords and stuff?”

“No boundaries, no safewords, you can do whatever you like to me, I don’t care.”

“This isn’t right. What if I want to use a safeword?”

Oh. That thought never crossed your mind but perhaps it should have.

“How about this…if I want a scene to end, I’ll say red. I know you said you don’t need one, but just in case, feel free to use it. If we want to just pause for a bit, then yellow. Green is good to go. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, Chan. I mean, uhhh…do you want me call you something specific?”

“Whatever you like, babygirl,” he reassures you and pats your cheek. “Do you want to give this a try rightaway? Unless you’ve got other plans…”

“No way, let’s do this!” you practically jump at the opportunity.

“Alright. I’ll give you one minute to hide anywhere in this house. After that, I can do whatever I like to you.”

His words make you so thrilled that your heart threatens to escape from your chest because it’s beating louder than ever.

“If you find me,” you tease.

“Oh, I will,” Chan swears. “Now, run.”

You sprint out of your room and down the stairs, as he starts the countdown.

“Sixty…fifty-nine…”

Where should you hide? The living room doesn’t have any good hiding spots and neither does the kitchen. Under the table is too obvious. Your room would have been a good option but Chan is currently there, so it’s out of the question. The bathroom is right next to it, so once again, not a great idea. Then, it hits you. The basement! You don’t remember ever showing it to Chan so it will take him more time to think of it. You go through the door and run down another set of stairs leading to the basement. You see the perfect spot. A vintage wooden chest that just happens to be empty and is big enough to fit you if you squeeze in.

Okay, maybe not comfortable but you can survive in there for a couple of minutes. Once you’ve tucked yourself inside and closed the lid, you are suddenly hoping that Chan finds you quickly. Whatever he does to you can’t be worse than this tiny space. You didn’t know you had claustrophobia but in this very moment, you do. You can’t hear him from down here so you imagine he is looking through the other rooms first. After what feels like eternity, you finally hear steps. You are grateful that you recently peed before getting in the shower because the current situation would have undoubtedly made you wet your pants. As the steps approach, you begin to worry. What if it isn’t Chan? What if you’d forgotten to lock the door and now a complete stranger comes in to take advantage of you? No, these thoughts are irrational and make you want to use the bathroom. Ugh.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to come out and I’ll go easy on you.”

Chan’s voice both comforts you and freaks you out even more. You’re not coming out, alright. This spot was great! He can do whatever he wants to you.

“Three…two…one,” Chan finishes counting and opens the chest’s lid.

You look up at him, eyes blinking to adjust to the light. He pulls you out of it roughly.

“Last chance. Run.”

But then, you realize you were squeezed into that tiny space for so long that your leg had cramped up. You can’t possibly run right now.

“Um, sorry but yellow,” you feel like an idiot. You had said you don’t need a safeword and yet…

“What’s wrong?” Chan’s threatening gaze immediately softens and he rubs your elbow gently.

“I didn’t think I’d get a leg cramp in this freaking box,” you admit, ashamed of yourself as you shake your legs in an attempt to relax muscles.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Chan coos at you and helps you massage your leg. “Wanna call it a day?”

“Hell nah. Just, no more running, please.”

“Sure, that’s fine by me.”

“Sorry for ruining the mood.”

Chan shakes his head.

“You could never.”

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” you assure him.

“Scene?”

“Scene.”

“Did you really think you can escape me? Dumb little bunny…” Chan tsks at you and you feel your knees giving out. You need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

“Please, don’t hurt me, Mr. Wolf,” you plead with him even though every cell in your being would be glad to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? You should’ve locked your door to keep me out.”

If you tell him that you want him inside would it be too out of character for a scared bunny?

“I’ll do anything,” you promise crying. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“You’ll do anything regardless,” Chan smirks devilishly and grabs your hair harshly, pushing you to your knees. With his free hand, he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, wasting no time in pulling his cock out of his confines and stuffing your mouth full.

Fuck, your knees already hurt, probably because of that stupid chest but you choose to ignore the discomfort for now because this feeling of being dominated like that is too good to let go of.

“That’s it, take it like the useless cumslut you are,” Chan speaks degradingly but you’ve never been wetter before.

You wish you could say you are doing your best to give him a blowjob but the truth is you are not doing much, his hips thrusting forward aggressively, his hands gripping your hair. Your mouth is nothing but a cumdump for him. Your eyes are watering, vision is blurred. Your throat hurts too but it is nothing compared to the burning feeling in your knee. It is in that moment you realize that you didn’t discuss a signal for a situation where you can’t speak. You rack your brain for an alternative and remember that some subs opt for pinching their dom’s skin in an attempt to communicate discomfort. You really don’t want this to end but…

As you are overthinking this, you realize Chan’s already released his seed inside of your mouth and you are left with no choice but to swallow it up like the greedy cumwhore you are. Only for him, though.

His cock softens in his mouth but he doesn’t immediately pull out and only then, do you remember what you’ve been about to do.

You pinch his thigh lightly, looking up with moist, pleading eyes.

“What is it, darling?” Chan needs to know, taking a step back.

“Help me stand, please,” your voice is hoarse.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks as he grips your hands and leads you to sit for a while on the stupid chest responsible for your current pain. Okay, maybe, you brought this upon yourself but whatever.

“No, you were perfect, it’s just that my knees hurt. Fucking dumb wooden thing,” you grunt in frustration, punching it with your tiny fist.

Chan chuckles and strokes your hair comfortingly in complete contrast to how he was pulling it mere seconds ago. Then, he pulls you into his arms for a sweet hug.

“Sorry…I’m killing the mood again, aren’t I?” you pout.

“Not at all. Remember you’re in charge of whatever happens between us. You wanna pause, we pause. You wanna stop, we stop. I would hate myself if this doesn’t feel as good for you as it does for me.

“You feel good?”

“Are you kidding? Do you think I’d offer just anyone to fulfil their fantasies hidden in their drafts?” Chan laughs fondly.

“I’m glad you think so,” you smile at him gratefully. “I’m better now so if you’re still on board, we can continue.”

“I’m on board but let me come up with a new plan. I was thinking of fucking you doggy style but now that’s out of the question with your knee situation.”

Hearing him speak out loud what he was planning to do to you sends shivers down your spine. Damn it, maybe you should have just hidden under the table.

“How do you feel about missionary?” Chan inquires.

“Wouldn’t it be too intimate for the kind of scenario we’re doing?” you are doubtful.

“Not if I hold you down,” Chan murmurs smugly.

“Oh. Well, then…like I said, you can do whatever you like.”

“Action?”

“Action,” you confirm.

Chan wastes no time in pulling you up from your sitting position and pushing you down on the cold floor. He’s holding your wrists with one hand and undressing you with the other. Scratch that. He’s tearing your dress apart. It was never one of your faves.

“W-what are you d-doing?” you mewl at him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Chan commands.

He doesn’t bother with stretching you out because he sees you’re already soaking wet for him. Instead, he forces his thick cock inside of your tiny pussy.

Only this time, your screams are real and you’re not at all pretending.

“T-too b-big, it h-hurts,” you cry out.

“You can take it, bunny,” Chan says confidently.

You know that you can put an end to this with one simple word but damn, does it feel incredible to be stuffed full by your best friend’s large manhood.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear. “This’ll feel so much better if you relax f’me.”

You’re trying, really. But it’s too much you feel like he’ll split you in half. Okay, maybe not a bad way to go but still.

“D-daddy, it h-hurts so m-much,” you slur mindlessly.

Wait, what did you just say?

“Daddy, huh? Easy, babybun, your wolf dad’s gonna take good care of you, I promise,” Chan’s words send you into overdrive and you come around his cock, your thighs are shaking and you’re arching your back. You can’t think anymore, you just need to be with him stuck in this moment forever. Soon enough, he releases his cum inside of your pussy.

You want to beg him to stay there for a while but you are too weak to speak.

Instead, Chan uses his fingers to push back the cum inside of your tiny pussy.

“Gotta make it stick. Will my bunny have my wolf puppies, huh?”

Oh? So, he’s that kind of guy. Well, you can’t say you mind...Besides, you’ve talked about this before and you’re on the pill so whatever he says is just for the sake of the scenario. Right?

“Was this okay?” Chan intends to find out and judging by his soft tone that is just begging to be praised you can tell that the scene is over.

“You did amazing, Chris,” you sigh wistfully and kiss his cheek.

“Better than your fantasies?”

“You have no idea.”

“So…when can we do something like this again?”

“Gee, let me have some water, at least,” you joke but your best friend (?) takes it literally and scoops you up in his arms, heading towards the stairs.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“To get you water, of course. And have a bath. And then to bed.”

Fuck. Maybe staying friends will be more complicated than you initially thought.

Once you’ve both been hydrated, washed up and dried out, you are cuddled in your bed, sharing snacks.

“Do you want to try something more extreme next week?” Chan asks casually. As if what you just did wasn’t already pretty intense.

“Um, sure? What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Kind of an outside setting. It will take some planning to make sure there aren’t other people but…it just came to mind while we were in the basement.”

“Tell me more about it,” you blink curioisly and put your hand on top of his.”

“So…how do you feel about being chased in a forest?”

To be continued…

[s-4pphics]

a friend in need! (e.w.)

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SYNOPSIS: heartbreak aid during the apocalypse, you ask? 

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: bff!ellie who’s sad, kinda perv oc who’s eager to fix that, remixed version of seattle!ellie, dina catching strays for no reason (i love her pls), wound care but erotic, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS DNI, dubcon (nasty green), porn watching, mutual/guided masturbation, brief poochie eating, oc in denial ab her little crush, real girlhood <3, slight angst :(

A/N: the bubblegum apocalypse where no one dies or lies. #SCISSORING

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The gates of Jackson open, and relief rushes through your chest. 

Everyone is accounted for. Ellie’s accounted for. 

Weeks—or however the fuck long— of pent-up anxiety finally settles in your limbs as you sprint towards Shimmer while Jesse tends to Dina, greeting the hazel mount with coos and rustles through her fur. Baby needs a bath and a good brushing. 

Your eyes swiftly shift from her to your best friend, “Ellie, I’m so glad— “

“Can you help me down, please?” 

Creases bunch in your forehead at the strain in her tone. And then you’re met with the blood-soaked wrap that's enclosed around her jean-covered thigh. 

“Oh, shit… c’mere.” 

Ellie’s good leg swings over the saddle, and you hold her waist to ease her down into the muddy grass. Joel’s the first one to engulf her. They exchange words that you don’t catch before his reluctant arms drop to guide Shimmer back to the stocks, leaving you two alone. You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around her neck next, mindful of her leg. 

“I didn’t know what to think when y’all didn’t come back,” you whisper. 

When the two girls first made their departure to Seattle, the icy remains of winter had just begun to melt into the dirt beneath it, and that alone felt like ages ago. There’s mosquitoes and moths everywhere now, following wherever the sun beams. 

A strong arm wraps around your waist, and you instantly stiffen and detach from her, hands resting on her shoulders. 

Her gaze drops to the ground when you whisper, “What happened, Ellie? You okay?”

She breathes. “Peachy.” 

Your hands drop when she turns in the direction of her home, head jerking when she says, “I’m gonna shower.” 

“Dinners supposed to be really good tonight!” You exclaim with a broken smile when she takes her first hobble, “Eat with me? Consider it a celebration that you made it home safe.” 

Ellie seems to soften at your invitation, head bobbing in approval, and you smile. 

She holds her fist out to you, “See you in 20?” 

You bump your knuckles against hers with strained cheeks, “See you in 20.” 

One small, comforting smile from her, and she’s off, limping back home. 

“What’s up with them?” 

You flinch at the too close whisper from Jesse, and you shrug. “Maybe they broke up.” 

“Doubt it,” He snorts, “Dina told me it was brutal on the way back. The bastards were everywhere, she said. They’re probably still shook up.” 

“Damn… How’s she doing?” 

“Weird as hell. I think she’s sick or something,” Concern is melting off him, “She’s getting checked out now.”

“I’ll check on her later,” You face him, “Coming to dinner?” 

“Probably not. Gotta make sure Dee’s good.” He’s already walking off, trailing after his friend…? Ex? You never know what to call them. 

“See ya.” You wave awkwardly. 

Weird. 

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How do you cheer up a friend that just witnessed three dozen infected tear another small community to shreds? At least, according to Jesse. He was able to get more out of Ellie and Dina than you were, apparently. 

You don’t know how Ellie — or anyone — could experience such barbarous scenes as frequently as they do. You’ve been on patrol twice since you stumbled upon Jackson a few years back, and each venture leaves you less and less eager to see the world beyond its walls. You respect their bravery, not only for being able to dive head first into unknown territory with nothing but bullets and faith, but to also face those walking demons at every corner. 

Your closest friend is often excited to show you scavenged artifacts that she has collected, but… she’s barely spoken to you since you helped her off Shimmer. 

Her silence is uncommon, and therefore, frightening. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve had fish,” you scoff weakly, poking your carrots with your fork, “It’s good, huh?” 

Her focus shifts from the tablecloth to you. 

Silence. 

You drop your utensil, “Fuck, Ellie… dude, what happened out there? Jesse told me… that y'all got caught up— “

“Dina’s pregnant.” 

He didn’t tell you that.

Ellie’s whisper breezes past your ears so fast that you barely catch it. The canteen continues to bustle with hungry, ravaged patrons who returned from their second round of patrol. You assumed Ellie was one of them after her scattered return, but she hasn’t touched anything on her plate. Not even her carrots. Her favorite; A literal goddamn rabbit. 

No wonder she hasn’t eaten… Who could’ve with news like that? Especially considering the high she was riding before the couple left. 

“What.” 

Ellie’s head shakes with gall, and a disappointed grin plumps her cheeks. 

“Yup… Can’t wait to tell Maria.” 

Sharing the news of a new Jackson kiddo sounds like the last thing on her mind. Days before the two took off, she was squealing like a wild hyena in the wee hours of the night, gushing to you about the midnight explorations with her long-term crush. Her retellings of their first night together were vivid: filled with pent up tension and need and unfiltered lust. According to Ellie, they could’ve gotten married in a fortnight with the relationship they’d built over the years, and you believed her. Sadly. 

You were present, observant, during your teenage years. You were there when Cat kissed Ellie, when they broke up, when Ellie had recurring nightmares about Riley and was desperate for comfort from you, when Ellie fell for Dina… 

And now they’re in a pickle. A fat one. 

Hearing about Ellie’s relationship never went how you’d assume. You expected to be happy for your friend whenever she enthused about a topic that brought about such elation, but there was always something about the stories that gave you pause. Something that burned in the pit of your stomach and caused you to, frankly, fake congratulations. You’re unsure why, but hearing about Dina and Ellie’s relationship potentially being tarnished is calming that simmer inside you.

“Just when I thought…” She scoffs quietly. “Whatever. Fuck it.” 

You can’t resist and slip, “… Who’s the daddy?” And she hisses.

“Guess.” 

But you don’t have to... Fuck. 

Dina and Jesse’s relationship was… something. In adolescence, Ellie was either secretly celebrating their multitude of separations or crying to you about them getting back together. Their consistent streak of being on and off clearly got the best of them. There’s a ball of cells growing inside of your friend’s almost-girlfriend. 

“Shit… maybe it was… a misunderstanding? Doesn’t it take a couple weeks to… form in the womb or whatever?” 

You’re not the devil's advocate. Your lips clamp at Ellie’s stern glare.

“There’s no misunderstanding.” 

Your shoulders slump at the distance in her eyes. The indifference she’s exuding can’t disguise the hurt that she’s experiencing internally. Your heart aches for her, despite the excited jitters in your fingers.

“… Sorry, man.” 

“I don’t care.” 

Good, you impulsively want to say. You shove it down into the hardwood beneath your soles. Your brows furrow in annoyance, more so at yourself for not being remorseful. “Fuck off. Yes, you do, and that’s okay. It’s normal.” 

“Can we go?” 

Her request is sudden and cracked, and every inkling of pride deflates in your chest. Poor thing; How could you feel like this when she’s this scattered? Guilt replaces whatever dark fantasy you’ve conjured up in the past five minutes. 

You move to stand without objection. Fuck the carrots, “Yeah. Let’s roll— “

An instant lightbulb above your head… and it’s glowing green. Roll.

Roll!

Mischief shines in your chest and eyes when you glance around the packed space in search for, 

“TOMMY!” 

A flash of brown hair turns to meet your sprinting form. The peach he’s holding looks devine. 

“You seen ‘Gene anywhere?” 

Your grin widens at his disapproving stare.

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“Be careful with those, shit-for-brain! I’m not coming to save your ass like last time!” 

“Got it, boss!” You squeak with a polite smile, shoving the small baggie of rolled joints into your stuffed satchel. It vanishes the second Eugene slams his vault to his dirty ass man cave, “Fucking dicksucker.” You huff.

Ellie snickers from beside you. “C’mon. Be nice.” 

“No. He skimped on me last time. Toke hog.” 

The walk to your place is colder than usual, but it’s beautiful out. The moon shines from behind the dark clouds, illuminating the ivory that shields the incoming spring grass. Gorgeously cinematic; A scenery that gets the heart thumping. Aching. Yearning. 

You lead Ellie onto your porch and into your home. She removes her jacket and kicks off her boots, throwing her armor over the designated rack. Your satchel goes flying across the room until it clatters on your bed. Black tapes spill all over the mattress, and Ellie scolds you disapprovingly. 

“Again? Really?”

You smirk. Eugene’s always too blasted to punish your kleptocracy, “No one has a better porn collection than ‘Ge— “

Her jaw slacks, “Porn?! What the fuck, I thought those were the Jurassic Park— “

“They’re not…” Before pondering, “Although that’d be some crazy role play. RAAAWR— “

“You’re the fucking worst.” 

“C’mon! Look at these titles,” You skip to your bedside to snag a couple tapes, “Smoochie the Coochie… Banging my hot neighbor…” 

A boisterous laugh passes your lips, “Throbbin’ Hood: Prince of Beaves! Tell me that’s not fucking hilarious!” 

Ellie doesn’t laugh. Hasn’t laughed. Just simmers by the front door with red dusting her cheeks. How adorable! 

“Why’re you looking like that?” 

When her eyes travel over the creases between your brows and confused smile, your feet give an awkward stutter. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. At the very least, she should’ve cracked a smile by now. Even an insecure one. 

You peer down at the tapes in your hand and back up at her. Her posture shifted: arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she leaned on the balls of her feet, eyes inspecting the dim lights of your space. 

Another lightbulb. Not a green one. 

“Have you ever watched porn?” 

She shrugs with floundering shoulders. You chuckle. 

“It’s just for shits and giggles, Ellie. Don’t be so serious. The acting sucks and you needa good laugh.” 

You cradle the filled baggie like it holds a sacred orb and waltz towards the VCR. Your screen shifts from bright blue to the tape’s introduction screen. Naked men in speedos… Ellie plops down on the couch behind and mindlessly flicks a lighter. You reach into the baggie and toss her the fattest joint available before working the remote. 

A sigh releases… then another flicker… then a long, drawled out exhale. You grin. 

You, remote in hand, plop down next to her, “Is it good?”

“Better than last time, for sure.” You trade the remote for the joint, arm wrapped around your angled legs as you pull. Hits smooth… er. It still dries your throat. 

“Remind me to thank him.” 

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Two joints down. Two tapes completed. Three wide smiles from Ellie from the bad acting. The night’s a win in your book. 

She lazily lights another joint while you switch out the tapes. You purposely saved the best for last: apparently the only lesbian porno in that bastard’s whole cave. When’s the last time you’ve smoochied a coochie?

More importantly, when’s the last time Ellie has? Recently, you assume; She and Dina were too close to only be going on long walks in the woods. The more you smoke, the more your mind wanders where it shouldn’t. 

… Your friend is a lover. Always has been, despite her efforts of convincing you, herself — everyone — that she’s emotionally indifferent. Craves affection, both verbal and physical, like she’s deprived. She raves to you about her desires on a weekly basis, for fucks sake! Someone hug the poor girl! 

“Feeling better?” You squeak when you plant on the cushion. Ellie nods with a soft grin. 

“Thank you.” 

Your hands clap together and her body shakes from the recoil. “The night’s not over yet! I got a surprise for you! Happy Birthday!” 

“It’s not my birthday… I don’t know my birthday— “

Your smile is laced with grating sarcasm, “Wow, you really know how to kill the vibe! Just play along, goddamn!” 

You sigh when her expression flattens. 

“Ellie…”

“Yes?” 

Oh… That crackly tone did a little something. Cheering Clitorous. Alright. Okay. 

“I found a little something in ‘Gene’s special drawer— “

“Aren’t all his drawers special.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up.” 

Her red eyes widen, but she silences. 

“You know what feels really nice after a bad breakup?” 

Her middle finger digs into her dry eye, “Getting high and watching porn with the only other lesbian you know?” 

“Even better,” Your hand claps down on her jean-clad, uninjured thigh. “Getting high and watching lesbian porn with the only other lesbian you know… while getting head. A true fixer-upper.”

More silence, and your tummy gives a nervous tumble. Eugene’s bud gives you enough courage to make eye contact, and, given any other circumstance, you would’ve hollered laughter at how stunned Ellie looks, eyes nearly stretched beyond her lids, but you don’t. You press on when she denies you. 

“You’re lying.” 

“Am I?” Your thumb presses the large button in the middle and the screen displays two, three — six women… all sprawled out on white carpet while lewdness shines through their eyes… And not at all the romantic wives fingering each other next to the fireplace like you envisioned. Plus, the music sucks. Who the fuck plays the accordion while bumping cooters?

Your eyes circle around and… Oh, wow. A lot less tame than you were expecting… Are those chains and a paddle? 

What the fuck, Eugene. 

“Oh, shit.” 

Ellie’s either impressed or about to go on a judgmental rampage. You gauge her expression curiously. Her lashes keep fluttering like butterfly wings. You nearly coo audibly. She always does that when she’s excited! What a cutie! 

Ellie recites the description at the bottom of the screen, “When six girls go off into the woods for an early 4th of July getaway, conversations take a lustful… and explorative turn. Find out what happens during one late, hot evening after a game of… kiss and blow?” 

You snort, “Are you asking me?” 

“Well, yeah… The fuck is kiss and blow?” 

You shrug, “Find out.”

One click of the remote, and the footage begins… More giggles from Ellie, and something flutters in your chest. You’ll have to watch bad acting with her more often. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

Six minutes into Smoochie the Coochie, and you still don’t know what kiss and blow is. And you don’t care to find out. 

High pitched moans and pleasured squeals that almost sound phony rings in your hazy skull as you stare up at your best friend from between her covered legs. 

This is the quietest she’s been all night: her eyes are locked on the screen behind you, completely entranced with flushed cheeks by what you assume is the sweatiest, raunchiest… scissoring, is what it’s called? On the screen. Maybe. You’re wired and can’t think straight and Ellie’s hot. 

“Are we really doing this right now?” 

She whispers when you caress her thigh over her pants, and you nod approvingly. Desperately, but she can’t tell. “Up to you.” 

You don’t expect a cold hand to come up and tenderly brush against your cheek. You shudder and nuzzle into it. Sober you would be so embarrassed at how you’re reacting to her affections. You’ve never been the needy one. 

“Can we…” 

You pout and burn with embarrassment, but start to pull back, “Stop?” 

“No, no…” Her eyes meet yours and your body locks. A bit nervous. “I dunno…” 

“Tell me.” 

“Later.” She whispers. 

You stare skeptically as she plays with your earlobe. “I promise I’m good. I want this. I’ll tell you later.” 

A pause before you sigh. “Okay. Up.” You pat her thigh and her hips rise. Her unbuttoned jeans are peeled down her legs, gently over her fresh bandage, and tossed beside you. Your body is miles ahead of your brain; before you realize, your lips smack all over her bruised thighs, peppering over the freshly bandaged scars and faded ones. She squirms where she sits, shaky breaths puffing from her lips. 

Your mouth travels higher, and an encouraging hand lands on the back of your head, massaging your scalp. 

“Tell me what’s happening.” You mumble against her, a blind finger pointing back at the screen. 

“I don’t — So much shit is going on. Like… from all directions.”  

You smile against her thigh, “Someone catch your attention?” 

“I…” 

But no explanation is needed. There’s treads of weakness in her growl. Go figure. 

“Lemme guess… She look like her?” 

If she catches the unwarranted agitation in your tone, she doesn’t mention it. Simply digs her nails into the back of your head. No forceful tugs at your hair, but a warning, and your teeth beam. 

“I dunno what the fuck you’re smiling for, but it’s gonna piss me off soon.”

There's a smidge of threat in her voice, so your kisses travel up. A pleasant distraction, given every small twitch of her legs. 

Not too long before you reach the hem of her underwear, and you trap it between your teeth before releasing it. Her tummy jolts when the fabric hits her skin, and you go heart-eyed. 

“Tell me who you’re looking at.” 

“T-The one that brought all that crazy shit to the party.” 

Of course. Handcuffs, she means. The large, wooden paddle, she means. A slow drag of your tongue advances up her v-line and her body wracks against her will. 

“Crazy in a bad way?” You purr against softness, and she exhales a laugh. “Not in this context, I guess.” 

“You like that kinda stuff?” 

“How the fuck would I know?” 

You snort before your eyes fall, trapped by the small patch of wetness that sticks to her panties. Glues the outline of her lips to the fabric. You’re seconds — inches away from going feral. 

Whatever patience you entered with has withered: and with determined hands, Ellie’s underwear gets yanked, pried down her legs and tossed behind you. Your eyes glisten with excitement when they meet the red pearl that twitches in anticipation, walls that leak when the warmth of your breath brushes over the cup of her. 

Her pussy’s perfect. A stunner, for sure. You and Cat were never close, but you’d hit her up to get Ellie tatted. Not even in a discreet place. It’d be somewhere where everyone — Dina — can see. On your forehead, for fucks sake—

S-Stop staring at me. 

It seemed like the moans behind you became louder. You nearly shove three fingers in Ellie’s mouth as punishment for interrupting the moment, but you choke on a breath. Mumble a slur of you’re cute, can’t help it in an attempt to ease her. 

And just when your tongue unravels over your bottom lip, right when Ellie’s taste is millimeters away, right when her breath hitches and her mouth drops open, the loudest crack, very reminiscent of bullets, rings across your small living room. Scares her, scares you enough to steal the attention from the art between her thighs. 

The sight on the screen is new, even for you. 

It’s not every day you see girls being slung across muscly laps and swatted on the ass with wooden tools with their hands bound behind them while they cry and sob and beg for their masters to hit them harder. You probably would’ve laughed at the theatrics if Ellie wasn’t here, as if you weren't about to go to town on her ten seconds ago. Both your breaths shudder and tremble as raunchy sounds of lips smacking and girls touching themselves and fingering each other split your ears in half. 

Your vision tunnels and shifts when a whimper from Ellie rattles through your chest and down your ribcage. She gasps like you’ve caught her doing something bad, but she doesn’t stop whatever she’s doing. Just blushes madly with her hand shoved between her squeezed legs while her eyes flicker between you and the screen. 

Time seems to whir and the room spins. The pace of your breath increases, slobbery wheezes syncing with Ellie’s when her legs cross over one another. 

Your muscles move you closer, hands planted on either side of her waist, back enlengthening until your eyes are level with hers. Her tongue barely dips to wet her bottom lip, eyes swiftly flickering down to your mouth.

A hand raises right when another crack of a paddle against skin ripples through your speakers, and before Ellie can flinch, your palm caresses her cheek, thumb exploring the divets in her face. Over the healed wounds and fiery specks that hypnotize. You don’t expect her to nuzzle into your touch… 

And you definitely don’t expect her arm to start moving, despite its enclosing. 

Her eyelids bat, and green pierces through your chest. Over your neck, your face, your shoulders as her bicep twitches. When her lips part around a gasp, you choke. 

Lemme see. 

Ellie curses under her breath, kisses your palm, and undoes the twining of her legs. Her fingers are gentle where they rest over her pussy, the bones in her hand flexing as her palm digs into her clit, folds smushed around the muscles of her thumb. 

That’s how you do it?

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, masking a smile as her head shakes. Your heart pinches. 

Show me how. 

Her head falls to the side as her cheeks sizzle. 

You first. 

You shudder, and your brain scolds. This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to smoke, watch porn, eat pussy, and escort her home safely. 

Not the fucking plan.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

Ellie insisted that you restart Smoochie the Coochie before you undress. For ambiance, she’d said when you stood on two feet, watching as she removed her hoodie. For me? She’d whispered against your cheek, in only a tank top, when you finally positioned yourself on the cushion in front of her. Face to face, pussies almost touching, your knees to the ceiling. 

The volume of the footage has been turned down, but the acting… it’s fucking hilarious. You shouldn’t be smiling. You shouldn’t be giggling, but you are. 

Ellie moves loose strands of hair behind her ear, grin matching yours. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Hm.”

Ellie, much to your shock, makes the first move. Again. 

Takes your wrist in her hand, brings your limp one up to her mouth to pepper kisses on your knuckles before pressing in between your open thighs. Your fingers are clumsy and your heart pounds against your ribcage, thighs jerking at the sticky contact of your own juices. Ellie's eyes between your legs like a hawk, leant comfortably against the pillows stacked behind her. 

Her attention encourages you. You balance on the hand that rests on the couch, grinning playfully around the fingers that sink into your mouth and glide on your tongue. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile before reaching for the lighter and last joint. Sticks the end of it between her lips, flicks the lighter twice, and ignites it. 

Every slow exhale of smoke gets rewarded with presses on your clit, your index and middle fingers tickling the sensitive area with learned precision. It pulsates under your fingertips whenever you lock eyes; her eyes are fervent with need, uncontrollably so, and it sends vibrations through your spine. 

Slower, Ellie whispers wetly when your touch becomes rushed. Too eager for her liking. She’s always hated when you rush things. Loathes your impatience. 

The moans from the film pick up again: shaky and cracked and high. They match yours when you apply just enough pressure on the spot right above your clit. Your walls constrict and slick gushes from, and Ellie curses.

When your fingers explore elsewhere, she sits up suddenly, her breath hitting your mouth when she mutters, Keep touching right there, with a tight hand around your wrist, trying to guide you back to the spot that makes your thighs quake.

I’m gonna cum if I do. There’s warning in your gasp.

Ellie puffs again before huffing a smoky breath, the scent infiltrating your senses. Your fingers almost sink inside, Wasn’t that the plan? 

Cum w-with me? 

Your voice is pleading, tone almost identical to when you would incessantly pester and follow Ellie around Jackson when you were younger. 

Ellie, watch a movie with me? 

Ellie, do a puzzle with me? 

Ellie, go on a walk with me?

Ellie! Ellie! Ellie! 

What used to be innocent invitations have swiftly shifted into something darker, and Ellie needs more. A shocked squeak leaves you when her free hand curls around the back of your neck to smash your lips together. Your hazy mind hadn’t registered Ellie’s fiery stares at your bruised lips, her head tilting in the opposite direction of yours, her nose brushing against yours whenever your fingers made a gooey noise. 

Your eyes flutter shut when her tongue sloppily glides over your bottom lip, moans quenchless where they hit Ellie’s tongue. She swallows them down until they jolt in her stomach, and shoves her hand between her thighs once more. 

Her fingers are drenched and so are yours; there’s nasty, slicked noises everywhere. From you, from Ellie, from the television that’s been forgotten by both of you. 

Ellie’s movements become desperate in a matter of seconds, no longer able to keep up the pace of your kiss. Your separated lips connect only by a thin line of saliva as Ellie gasps hit the skin of your cheek. 

Can’t wait to feel you on me. 

Your euphoria begs to peak at Ellie’s promise, your fingers massaging all the spots that send you to the stars at a desperate pace, trying to match Ellie’s. 

Cum with me, she growls like you did, Cum with me, cum with me, fuck —

Your friend’s name is a prayer on your tongue, shrouded in lust and a longing you’ve forced down to non-existence. You both succumb to pleasure in unison, the pulsing between your thighs synched with hers as she whimpers out. 

I wanna tie you up like that. Tie you up? Beat your ass raw and bloody? Whatever she's looking at, you want. You'll take without hassle. Anything for her. After one glance at the screen, 

Cumming for you, oh shit—

You wring out your high until there’s nothing left to give her, legs closing around your wrist at the aching sensitivity. Ellie’s head falls onto the arch of your knees, lathering your skin in spit-filled kisses, her soaked hand slowing between her legs. 

“Lay down.” 

“H-Hm?” 

“Lay down,” you croak. 

And she does, eyes filled with carnality. 

The porno is long forgotten when your head shoves between Ellie’s legs, the tape stuck on the starter screen while her cries of pleasure blend with the same bullshit accordion. 

You tongue her with fever, drink down all of her heartbreak that she endured while she was away from the source, mark yourself all over the terrain of her until she shatters with a cry of your name. Drenches your mouth, your tongue, your chin. Pushes you away with a cautious hand when you don’t stop. Flinches with sensitivity. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

“Hold still.” 

You swipe the disinfecting wipe over Ellie’s wound, fresh blood leaking into the white cotton. She assembles new bandages where she sits above you, unraveling the sterile fabric for you to wrap her in.

“I’m trying!” She whines, “It still hurts.” 

“Shouldn’t have tried to ride my face— “

She flicks your forehead so hard, it thumps like a drum, and you wince before playfully biting her finger. 

She snickers and allows you to collect the last bits of blood with the last tarnished rag in your first-aid kit, snagging the bandages from her grasp. She holds down the new gauze and does as she’s told, lifting her thigh on your command as you bind her messy stitches. 

Why did you kiss them, though? 

It lasted 0.5 seconds. A quick, gentle smack meant to soothe, but your brain doesn’t see it that way. Red alarms glow in every crevice of your cerebrum, urging you to move away from your best friend. You stare at Ellie and Ellie stares back, expression no longer readable and easy-going, and you flinch away from her. 

Inviting her over for some innocent porn-watching is one thing… but kissing her without motive? Without the need to progress into something more? It stuns you more than her. You think.

“Sor — sorry — “

Ellie’s already palming at your shoulders, “It’s okay… it’s not a big deal— “

And it’s not. Why does her confirmation bloom a new ache in your chest? 

Your knees pop when you hurriedly stand, and Ellie follows, hands sliding down your arms to grab your hands. 

“Hey…”

You meet her eyes. 

“We’re good… okay? It’s nothing serious.” 

Don’t cry. You agree with a grin. One you pray she doesn’t notice cracks in its corners. She says nothing. Just caresses your cheek in unsaid thanks. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for the distraction. 

Ellie returns a smile before gathering her clothes off the floor. She dresses in silence as you watch with a sorrowful gleam. Is it selfish to ask her to stay? Would it be too much? Should you? Will you?

It’s when she’s tying her boots up that you say something. 

“I can walk you back!” 

“I got it. I’m not going straight home.” 

Ellie’s denial is calm. Gentle. Not abrasive in the slightest, but your hands quiver and heart swells, bound to burst with dejection. Where is she going? The town is sleeping. 

She leaves before you can ask with a promise of seeing you in the morning for breakfast. Nothing unfamiliar, nothing changed. 

Tears rock you to sleep, and you’re not sure why. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

[kenobers]

magic hands

Jason Todd x fem!Sionis!Reader

Your regularly scheduled hook-up session with Jason Todd is rudely interrupted by the arrival of your period. As tragedy strikes, you have to ask Jason to buy you pads, perhaps throwing a curveball in your still emerging relationship. this installment comes before this one; you don't know jason is red hood in this one (not that it really matters to this particular story) Warnings: Periods, mentions of drugging, reader having issues with acts of service, afab reader Disclaimer: i'm writing additions to this story completely out of order because i can. don't worry - you're gonna be the one comforting jason soon, just stay tuned. and if you're following me for the obi-wan content, i promise you'll also be fed soon. the sionis!reader concept was inspired by this ask on gilverrwrites' blog! In hindsight, it might've been kinda weird of me, but i couldn't get the concept out of my head. thank you to gilverr and anon! please check out their blog!

Yo

You cringe a little at your choice of words, wishing you'd thought harder before sending the text. Well actually, you cringe at the entire situation. You despise having to ask for help, but you're a little desperate.

Would you-

Too entitled.

Would you mind-

Passive aggressive.

Will-

Your phone buzzes before you can finish typing.

yo.

That was fast.

You take a deep breath. Jason was coming over anyway and it wasn't like you were in any position to have sex like you were planning to. And this constitutes as a bit of an emergency, considering you're currently sitting on a wad of toilet paper.

Can you pick me up some pads?

You hit send and drop your phone on your bed. This is so embarrassing for no reason. Jason's a good guy, he isn't going to judge you for being on your period of all things. He's not going to hold it against you if you can't have sex either.

It was just that you weren't sure your relationship was...like that. Acts of service and all that. A month ago, you wouldn't have even considered asking him to do this. But you'd been a lot more personal with one another lately. Making dinner, staying the night, being physically affectionate while your clothes were still on.

Your phone vibrates and you frantically feel for the purple case in the grey and white sheets. You'll deal with that giddy feeling later.

i don't know, can i?

Fucker, you think, glaring at your screen. You start furiously forming a response about how you aren't in the fucking mood for this when your phone buzzes again.

yeah, of course i can. need anything else? painkillers? chocolate?

You eye the empty bottle on your nightstand. Your stomach cramps painfully.

I'm out of ibuprofen

Then you consider for a moment. With a sigh, you bite back your pride. Well, if he's offering.

...and maybe some ice cream.

you got it babe.

Babe. Heat rushes to your cheeks as the corners of your mouth twitch upwards.

Ten minutes later his name flashes on your screen again, along with a photo of a wall of pads.

which kind

Damn, he was kind of good at this. A flare of jealousy burns through you at the thought of Jason doing this for some other girl. Another feeling you'll deal with later. You circled your preferred brand and send it back.

check. headed your way shawty.

After another ten minutes, the rumbling of a motorcycle echoes through your street. Nine minutes and 45 seconds later, the sound of your living room window sliding open lures you from your bed.

You fight back a goofy grin at the sight of Jason's large-than-life frame slipping through the window, two plastic bags balanced in one gloved hand. Leaning against your kitchen island, you allow yourself a second to admire the curve of his ass in those joggers.

"Hey," you greet, shivering as a gust of wind followed the man. He gives you a toothy grin, sliding the window shut. With a dramatic flourish of his arm, he presents the drugstore bag to you.

"Your essentials, m'lady."

"Oh, my hero," you giggle, taking the bag gratefully. You eye the second bag suspiciously, although the telltale red thank you print and the smell of fried rice give the contents away. "Chinese?"

"Chinese," he confirms. "And before you say anything, I was already picking it up when you texted."

You purse your lips. He was starting to know you too well. You would've said something, would've lied about how you weren't hungry. The idea that he'd already thought to do something nice for you before he even knew about your situation makes your stomach twist.

Jason takes a step closer, trapping you between him and the island. He reaches behind you to set the food on the counter, green eyes trained on your face. It's hard not to shrink below his quizzical gaze. Goosebumps cover your bicep as the leather of his jacket rubs against your bare arm.

Bastard.

"That okay, pretty girl?"

Fuck, he's handsome. He knows it too, know to flick his dark hair just so. Knows how to look at you so that any "oh, you shouldn't have" argument you can conjure up falters before it can reach your tongue. It certainly doesn't help that he's flexing the arm reaching behind you just so.

"Perfect, even," you purr, uncrossing your arms to play with his jacket zipper. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it." You try not to roll your eyes at him, reminding yourself that you were opting to be nicer to him tonight. He is your hero after all. His hands fall to your hips, his thumbs running along the bone. "How you feeling?"

You shrug, suppressing another shiver as his pinkie pokes below the length of your shorts.

"Shitty. Like everything hurts," you answer honestly. Your lip twitches and you abandon his jacket zipper in favor of the strings of his sweatshirt.

"'m sorry we can't, y'know, do what we planned." The apology floods abruptly from your lips. "I would offer to do it anyways, but I just, I-I can't with these cramps." Your hips twinge with pain to emphasize your point. "But, I mean, I can blow you if you really want-"

"Hey."

Two fingers tilt your chin up, tough leather juxtaposing soft skin. You hadn't even realized you'd stopped looking at his face. He's smiling at you.

"Don't worry about it," he says for the second time. "Lemme make you feel better. It'll piss Roman off just as much."

You both look pointedly at the bookshelf you're fairly certain your father had hidden some sort of recording device.

"Besides," he continues with a wolfish smirk. "I've become accustomed to a certain level of performance from you and I'm not sure if I'd receive that if you're not at your peak."

"Fine, only because you insisted," you sigh. "And I'm gonna do you a favor and ignore that last part." You turn away from him, fishing the package of pads and the ibuprofen out of the drugstore bag. "I'm gonna go...yeah."

You wave the package in the air as you head for the bathroom. With your back turned, you don't catch Jason saluting you.

When you return, you notice one of the books on the shelf has been inconspicuously placed over a Wonder Woman knick knack. Part of you is relieved to know your father can't spy on you tonight. Another part of you feels a pang of anxiety knowing that means tonight is just for the two of you to enjoy each other's company. As people. Not fuckbuddies.

This is still casual. Professional, you tell yourself. It's not like he's my boyfriend.

You turn to the kitchen, where Jason is pulling plates out of a cupboard, and ignoring the smaller voice that wouldn't mind him being your boyfriend.

He hands the plates to you, letting you dish the both of you up.

Jason sidles up behind you, pressing his chest to your back. You lean into him, letting him support your weight.

"Chinese was a good call," you say. He hums in response, dipping his hands under your shirt to rub your sides. You yelp in alarm as something wet hits your skin.

"Dude! What the fuck!"

Jason backs up, holding two cream covered hands in the air. He looks apologetic enough, but still smirks at the way you glowered at him over your shoulder. It's an awful cute look when it isn't coming from behind an ugly ass skull mask.

"It's just CBD."

You spin around, pointing your spoon straight at his heart.

"CBD- what, are you trying to get me high?"

It's all Jason can do not to double over laughing. He'd take a picture if he wasn't certain you would find a way to lodge that spoon in a major artery.

His laughter has you fidgeting nervously, trying to maintain your hard stare.

"Don't laugh at me."

To his credit, he stops almost immediately. He straightens his posture and gestures to a small round container on the counter.

"It's just a lotion. Helps with joint pain, I use it all the time. I thought it might help with cramps."

You blink. That was...incredibly thoughtful of him.

"Oh."

You turn back to the food, continuing your task sheepishly. All you ever do in front of this man is embarrass yourself. And orgasm.

He creeps back to his spot cautiously. You glance over your shoulder, briefly meeting his eyes.

"You can...continue," you tell him, your tone much softer now. He presses a kiss to the exposed junction of your neck and slides his hands back under your shirt.

It does feel nice to have him massage the cool lotion into your aching body. His fingers seem to know exactly where to go, undoing the built up tension and leaving a light buzz in its place.

"I'm sorry I snapped like that," you whisper. "I overheard some of my dad's idiots talking about some kind of lube that's infused with LSD or something. Apparently it's becoming a popular method for people to get what they want so...little on edge."

After a moment, Jason speaks again, "I wouldn't drug you like that, you know."

"What, topically?" You scoff, dividing the orange chicken equally.

"Without your consent."

You pause. You suppose you hadn't given much thought to how much Jason respected you in that regard. To be fair, you'd never really been around men that respected you at all.

"Well, that's good to know." It's not the most sensitive response, but you're sudden determined to move on from the conversation before you start oversharing. "Let's eat, big guy."

After dinner, Jason applies the lotion again. This time, you're sat on the couch between his legs as he drives the stuff into a knot on your hip. The TV drones with some black comedy series the two of you have been watching at the recommendation of one of his brothers.

"Do you get a lot of joint pain?" You ask suddenly, looking back at him. He doesn't tear his eyes away from the screen.

"Huh?"

"You said you use it a lot on your joints. Do you get a lot of joint pain?" Now he looks at you, one slit eyebrow raised. For a moment you watch him try to remember when he told you that. Then he smirks, a silly view from upside down.

"I do whenever you get through with me," he says, his chest vibrating under you. You give him a look. "Sometimes after the gym, yeah."

You're not quite sure you believe him, but you let it slide, turning back to the TV in time to see your least favorite character earn a smack to the face.

"It was nice of you to bring it."

"'s helping?"

"Mmh," You sigh as he works a particularly tough spot. Your relief is short lived however as the small of your back cramps up. A small gasp escapes you and you squirm and swear in Jason's arms.

He pauses his work on your hips.

"Where's it hurt?"

"Back," you whimper, turning over so he can get to it. He obliges immediately, rubbing the butt of his palm into the sore spot. You groan into his chest, melting beneath his magic hands. "The fuck did I ever manage this shit before you."

He snorts, "very bravely, I'm sure."

You smile at his answer. Clever boy. You reward him with a kiss, pleased when he returns it in kind. His hand doesn't stop its work on your back as his soft lips move gently with your own.

"You sure you don't want a blowjob?" you murmur against his mouth.

Jason nods, giving you another chaste kiss before pulling away. "You're in pain, sweetheart. Let yourself rest."

He moves his lips to your ear, lowering his voice.

"Now, how about that ice cream, hm?"

Absolute professional.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Can we see a chubby!reader who maybe doesn't know that Feitan is part of the phantom troupe, so she doesn't think Feitan can carry her but then he proves her wrong (maybe with a little bit of angst because she's self conscious, and then comfort because Feitan loves that there's more of her)

Idk if that made sense

Perfect

Feitan x Chubby!Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: another short one… but I like it!! Join my server !!

warnings: insecure reader, a bit of internalized misogyny

SFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @atransmuter

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

You had been dating Feitan for nearly a year now, and you still knew so little about him. His whereabouts while he was out of town were a mystery to you, and you had no idea what he did for work. All you did know was that he didn’t have a normal job.

When you jokingly asked him if he was in the mafia, he scoffed. “Mafia bunch of puss- wimps. Not part of it, not by long shot.”

You were a little perturbed by his answer, but couldn’t help laughing at the way he censored himself for your sake. He seemed to see you as some kind of delicate princess, closer to a porcelain doll than human. Feitan was always extremely gentle when touching you, his hands almost hesitant when making contact with your skin.

This was something you didn’t understand. Throughout your life, people viewed you as bigger, tougher, when in reality you were quite easily hurt, both physically and mentally. The topic of your weight had been a sore subject…

But your Fei wasn’t really good with reading social cues.

“Eat good. Here, for big girl.”

You stared at your boyfriend as he used his chopsticks to drop an extra egg roll on your plate. In your mind, you know he meant nothing by it. He was friends with larger people like Uvogin who ate tons to keep up his strength and figure.

But your heart felt hurt. You pushed your plate away and huffed. “Hmph.”

He was bad about assuming things, even if you knew it Feitan wasn’t being malicious, it still hurt your feelings when he assumed random things because of your body type.

But what you didn’t know, was that Feitan wasn’t assuming anything. You were his girlfriend, he had to provide for you and make sure you ate well. In meteor city, having meat on your bones usually meant you were well taken care of, and all he wanted to do was make sure you ate.

Feitan, though… he wasn’t good at communicating that. Or communicating at all, really, so he just stared as you pushed away the food. He scoffed, slightly offended that you turned down his offer.

“Why huff? Being brat.”

You sniffled, standing up and storming off. Feitan wouldn’t let this slide, he hated seeing you upset.

The dark haired man caught your wrist, squeezing with just enough force to catch your attention. “Why act like this? Made you mad?”

You pouted, puffing out your chubby cheeks. “Mmph… it’s embarrassing. You’re thin and I’m not… aren’t girls supposed to be dainty and small? Isn’t that what you would prefer, someone you could easily pick up?”

You wiped the tears from your eyes, not daring to look back at your lover.

But you didn’t have to look, because he turned you around and began lifting you with ease. Once you were in the air, he held onto your ass, squeezing softly. You squeaked and immediately wrapped your plump thighs around his waist for support, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“See? Easy. My little bunny.”

He held you in his arms, not straining or struggling in the slightest. It was like you weighed nothing at all to him and it was… relieving.

“Can’t understand? You… are mine.”

He huffed, sitting down with you in his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist. “We clear?”

You snuggled him, burying your teary face into his neck. “Yeah…”

Feitan tried to be a bit more sensitive with you after that, and made it a point to carry you around and show you off to his friends. It was a little embarrassing… but you felt loved and beautiful.

And that was all you needed.

[aluciahaz]

may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.

Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!

once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3

oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)

greed never stops

—vox x f!reader

—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage

vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.

he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.

but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.

but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.

and you were the one he needed it from.

your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.

“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”

those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.

“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.

“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?

“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”

“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.

he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.

vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.

he just didn’t deserve it.

he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.

“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.

his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.

his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.

which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.

“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.

“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.

“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.

“such a good boy.”

those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.

he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.

sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.

it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.

it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.

“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.

vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.

but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.

(i totally didnt forget to tag)

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck

[ohcaptains]

abby love spell

pairing. abby anderson x f!reader

synopsis. abby’s been handsy all damn day. can’t even take her hands off of you on patrol, where she should be focusing on something far more important...like staying alive. naively, you think watching a movie will distract her. it’s no use, really.

an. anyway slay. this is based off of this request that someone sent years, nay, millennia ago. what can i say, i was busy procrastinating writing and focusing on playing the game. again. pls enjoy, comment and reblog, etc. it makes the gay thoughts stronger<3 (not showing in tags so reblogs appreciated)

warnings. 18+. please do not read or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy my shit, i’ll find out. hand on throat (no choking), house wife kink, f!receiving penetration, strap on sex, lots of description of spit because i’m insane. references to oral, but no description. soz. maybe next time champ. 

Something was up with Abby. 

She’d always been an affectionate girlfriend, but today, she was stuck to you like glue. The pair of you, alongside Manny and Nora, had left for patrol in the morning. You had been busy making sure the truck was stocked, while Abby was busy trying to find a way to keep her hands on you at all times. 

You were bent over the crates, checking and re-checking the contents, when her hands had slid onto your hips, thumbs looping into the belt buckles. 

You went to flinch, hand coming out to grab hers, but you felt the familiar scabs on her knuckles. The familiar bumps of her veins – the map you knew off by heart.

“Hi Abby,” you sang, patting the back of her hand. Her chest pushed against your back, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Whatcha doing?” she asked, fully aware of what you were doing. 

You answered her though – anything to keep her locked against you like this. There were a couple of layers of fabric between you, but you could still feel the heat radiating off of her.

“Packing the guns.”

Abby hummed, then grabbed at your hip, using it to twist you to face her. You grunted an oft! grabbing the lapels of her jacket to stabilise yourself.

“Shit – Abby,” you scorned, but she ignored you. Instead, she flexed her arms, and you couldn’t see the lines of muscles due to her jacket, but the bulge of her biceps was there all the same.

“Already got 'em, look,” she grinned, wiggling her brows, and you patted her chest, an amused frown on your face.

“What is with you?” you asked, smoothing out her jacket. “Ben put a little something extra in your porridge this morning?”

“I’m just my regular, goofy ol’ self – what do you mean?”

Her blue gaze flicked to your top, visible from underneath your open jacket.

“That’s my top,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Oh yeah – sorry,” you quickly spoke, glancing down at it, and thus not noticing the tick in Abby’s jaw. She always loved you in her clothes. Loved the way they draped over you – especially the jagged arm holes she cut into them. 

The fabric would always hang loose at your sides, and she’d spend all day glimpsing at the drag of it over your chest. “Lights went out in the East block when you were at the gym. Had to get dressed in the dark—” you’re cut off, the surprise of Abby’s head dropping against your chest rendering your vocabulary to just one word, "Abby!”

“Mm,” she hummed, pushing her forehead between your breasts, “smells like me.” “Abby—” you said again, a giggle cracking at your lips. Your hands fumbled for her shoulders, shoving her away, or at least trying to – Abby was dead weight. You admired her strength. Loved it, but it was times like this when it was a hindrance to your mental stability. Finally, she stretched back to her height, shit eating grin on her face. 

You were too busy transfixed on her features, that you didn’t notice her hands coming out to the bottom of your coat. Suddenly, she pulled the zip up to the top, and she knocked your chin up with her knuckle, leaning down to give you a deep kiss.

You went somewhere else for a second, the drag of her tongue knocking reality out of the way. Melted, succumb to her sudden overwhelming taste -- but she pulled away too soon.

“Cold out,” she grinned, hands rubbing at the length of your now-covered chest, and you were too dazed to respond.

It was like that all. Damn. Day.

She never once stopped playing around with you. 

She’d boost you up walls, hands sliding under your thighs in an attempt to push you up. Hand at the bottom of your back to signal you to walk faster, hands on your hips to pull you out of the way. 

Pulling you around like a damn rag doll. 

Nice shot, she’d say, when it was actually pretty average. 

Good girl, she casually praised, after you’d jumped and grabbed her arm, letting her pull you up onto a roof. That one had got you -- had to take a second to gather yourself as she spoke to Manny about which direction you were going.

Got to an abandoned warehouse and she pulled you to the side, sparing a few minutes to kiss you against a stack of boxes.

What’re you doing? You’d asked, and all she said was, kissing my girlfriend.

Now, you’re trying to watch a movie together. 

Or at least, you’re trying to watch a movie – she’s too busy touching you to focus on the plot. 

You’re comfy on your shared bed, resting on her broad chest as you sit between her muscular thighs, and she’s keeping you there by the arm she’s got slung around your front – bicep on your shoulder – as she lazily kisses at your neck.

It’s distracting, to say the least.

“’um trying to watch,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. The movie buzzes at you – an 80’s flick, all electronic beams, and bright colours. It’s about robots, and when Mel had brandished the disk in front of you last month, you’d been eager to have a watch. 

Now, the direction Abby’s mouth is taking is far more interesting. 

She scatters lazy, wet smooches over your neck, pausing before she places another as if she’s painting a picture. The drag of it makes you lethargic — makes you comfy and loose in Abby’s grip.

You want nothing more than to give into her touch. You’ve spent the whole day trying to shove down the overwhelming feeling of desire that she’d been pulling out of you. But you’ve been meaning to watch this movie for months.

No, you tell yourself. Focus. You breathe in, and shake your head, snapping back to the screen.

Abby hums. She’s so warm and soft -- her muscular chest surprisingly comfortable – that it’s lulling you into a sense of submission. You rest back against her, enveloped in her arms. Enveloped in the soft brush of her lips against your throat.

Focus, you repeat to yourself.

Got to give this movie back to Mel tomorrow, she’s been asking for it for weeks. “You can watch,” Abby whispers, brushing her mouth over your ear. The wetness of her lips forces a shiver down your spine. You try and run from it, shuffling in her grip, but Abby keeps you steady – lazily locked against you with her arm slung over your shoulder. “Just let me kiss you,” she breathes, placing a soft, delicate one on your ear lobe. Your eyes flutter again. She smells fresh from the shower. Smells clean, like her soap – pine and mint. Her hair is down too – you love it when her hair is down – and it hangs long, smelling like…strawberries? Your shampoo. Fuck fuck fuck. You shake your head, “can’t focus on the movie when you’re kissing me like that.” Abby smiles against your neck, and you feel it – feel it curve against your skin. “Sounds like a you problem.” “You’re an asshole,” you whisper, and she laughs.

“Just be quiet and watch the movie,” she orders, wide palm rubbing your bare thigh. “Quit whining.”

You grumble, mumbling something under your breath, but you do go quiet, and thankfully, she does slow her kissing. Resorts to nuzzling your neck instead, while her left hand continues to rub at your thigh. 

It is nice, and you manage a couple of minutes of this, relaxing and watching the movie before you feel her hand sliding upwards.

You inhale sharply. Breathe in her scent. Wait for her to slow down. Wait for her to stop. Yet she never does. 

Her long, thick fingers leisurely flutter over your bare skin as her hand inches to where you suddenly want it – God, do you – tantalisingly close to the boxers you’re wearing. Hers. 

Your whole outfit is hers and you swear she’s going to touch you, or at least brush her fingers against you, but she pulls back. Slides her hand away, wide palm retreating to your knee.

Disappointment twangs.

You try not to think about it, but the buzz she’d sparked settles low in your belly.

The film continues with its garish colours and cheesy dialogue. Buzzes and crackles, its movie star taking up the screen for an up-close shot. You swallow down the fluttering of your heart.

She’s still kissing you.

Her lips are wet, exploring. Nose cold as it nuzzles against your ear lobe, breath warm as she breathes, and her tongue darts out, skimming over your throat before she kisses the spit away. You hum, hips pushing again, and Abby palms at your inner thigh.  

“Shhh, baby. Can’t hear the movie with all your whimpering.” The breath of her whisper flutters over your neck, forcing goosebumps to rise to the surface. You roll your eyes back and try and convince yourself that it’s from annoyance rather than pleasure.

Her hand starts again, faster now, smoothing over your skin, not giving you enough time as she just brushes the tips of her fingers over your underwear, and your hand jolts out.

“Abby,” you warn, grabbing it. You intertwine your fingers with hers, stopping it in its tracks — clutching it on your lap, and Abby hums a laugh into your neck.

“Not gonna let me touch you there?” she teases, using the hand you’re holding to rub at your groin. 

You’re betrayed by your own knuckles, the touch forcing your thighs to clench together, and hips to jolt up at the sensation. You hate it. Love it, really. She’s winding you up like a toy. “Abby,” you whisper, conflicted. The tv hisses its dialogue, music singing – a car crashes into a wall, and the antagonist cackles in delight. Who’s the villain again? Abby hums a pleased, “Hm?” into your ear. You don’t know. Just have to spit her name out. Get it out of you, before it’s back, brimming at your lips like an omission of truth. 

She pushes her hand into yours, forcing your knuckles to rut against your crotch again, and fuck, your legs widen an inch, welcoming the feeling and silently begging for more. 

She’s smiling, sickly sweet – you know it. Know her. Know she’s grinning from the gradual win.

You keep a hold of her hand as she rubs it into you, coaxing something warm and tingly to build between your thighs. Your face goes hot. 

You suddenly can’t remember the plot of this movie. Try to come up with something convincing to Mel for when she asks for your review, but your temporal lobe has stopped working. 

All you can think about is the sensation between your thighs, the comforting tickle on your chest from Abby’s hair, and the smell of her – familiar, all-consuming. She runs the tips of her teeth over the flesh of your throat, and “Abs,” you gasp, free hand grabbing onto her forearm. 

Her tongue comes out, soothing the scratch from her teeth and you shift, shocked, hips bucking back against her, legs falling open, and she takes advantage – drops your hand and flattens her palm between your thighs, cupping your clothed pussy.

“Shit,” you gasp, clutching her strong forearm with both hands in surprise.

You can’t believe you’ve let her win.

She’s not even moving, just holding you, but the pressure is enough to force your thighs together, pussy clenching around nothing.

“Um’ gonna break up with you,” you quickly rush, eyes clenching closed. Abby cackles. Says, “Yeah?” “Mm,” you hum, nodding, fidgeting, trying to get her to fucking move. “Okay –“she breathes, stuffing her fingers low, thick of them pressing against you. Your mind goes fizzy. She talks. “--After I make you come though, right?” Your face clenches together, your mouth falling open. “You’re the worst,” you brandish, lying through your teeth. Meaning it wholeheartedly. 

She hushes you, “Shhh, I know,” and watches your facial expressions change – watches you try to self-soothe.

“The worst,” you repeat, voice cracking. Somehow, Abby’s lips get closer to your ear.

“I know baby, but I’ll make it good, promise.”

Her admission forces your eyes open, and you look down at where she’s got you – thick fingers barely pushing against your clothed slit, and God, you have to – have to grind your cunt against her. One slight roll of your hips, up and up, then down, and you huff, curse under your breath because Jesus Christ.

“Or you’ll do it for me.” “Shut up.” “No – do it again.”

You do. With your hands holding the forearm she’s got buckled against your collarbones, you hitch your hips up, and she keeps her hand tense, making it good for you. Makes sure the ball of her palm pushes into your clit, and you sigh. A tremor shoots through your belly.

“Keep doing that,” she mutters, mouth close enough that her words echo through your brain. “I wanna see.” She grabs a fistful of your shirt and drags it up. The cool air hits the soft skin of your belly, but Abby warms you as her arm flattens against it, hefty and comforting. 

You watch her strong arm transfixed. Watch the muscles tick as her hand flexes, the scars on her skin white and shiny in the dull buzz of the TV screen. 

Her fingers rub at your pussy, and your hips move, back arches, grinding against her palm, your breathing hitching and catching. 

She’s barely touching your clit, just brushing it, and the sensation slowly builds, pushing, making you reach down and fumble for her hand, pushing it deeper into you.

“Abs,” you choke, and she groans. Nods against your neck and admits, “wanted to fuck you all day.”

Heat rushes over you, forces you to clench together and pathetically whimper. “Been obsessed with me all day,” you breathe. 

In your cloudy vision, you catch sight of the TV screen, the movie playing out to two people who couldn’t care less. Yet you try and focus, but it’s hard to multitask with her hand between your thighs.

The antagonist is being arrested, and you have no fucking clue as to why. Probably something to do with the car explosion – or was it a truck? Abby carries on kissing you, sucking at the soft skin, bruising you with her sweet lips and tongue, “m’ always obsessed with you,” she purrs, the hand she’s got strapped across your collarbones soothing the skin of your shoulder. “Mm, yeah – but something --” she rubs the ball of her palm over your clit, pushes it, this time, and your sentence catches. “Shit —” you hiss, eyes rolling back. A shiver runs down your spine as your brain short circuits. Desperately, you try to keep a hold of reality, try not to fall into the dizziness of it all.

Sometimes that happened with Abby. You didn’t mind, but you wanted to hold on to your consciousness for a little while longer. You huff, shake your head – try to remember your next sentence. “Something different about today.”

“Had a dream that I fucked you last night.”

Oh, you think, that’ll do it. You can’t help but grin -- delighted that you’ve managed to weave your way into her subconscious.

“Things were different, normal,” she explains, still taunting you with her hand. She’s pushing up, grinding up and down your clothed slit with an intrinsic kind of determination, using just enough pressure to make you delirious. 

As she pushes her fingers low, your clit throbs. Your pussy clenches, tight and sore. You were never good at this bit. Never good at waiting. You clutch her hand, tense and fidgety, gut tightening as her fingers slowly push you to some metaphorical edge.

“Don’t laugh,” she adds, and you do, but not at her, more so at the situation. Your big, controlling Abby, asking you not to laugh at her. “M’ not gonna laugh at you Abs,” you pant, grinding slowly, breathing deep, trying to calm yourself down for this admission she’s so ashamed of. 

She leans in close, mouth against your ear as if the TV can hear. All it does is add to the pressure, her voice so close, it’s like it’s in your own head.

“I dreamt that you were my housewife,” she whispers, and fuck, that’s not what you expected. That’s not what you expected at all. “That I came home,” she continues, sliding her fingers up and down, up, and down, and you’re wet against her. Soaked through the cotton, her fingers damp with your slick. Jesus Christ, she’s only been playing. 

Hadn’t felt like she’d been trying all that hard, really, and here you are, making her hand all wet. You both watch her play with you – draw it out, fingers dragging, your hips trying to match her rhythm. “’n’ you were making me dinner, dressed up all pretty – heals on, nothing underneath.” “Y-Yeah?” you breathe, quick and short, the only sound you can make besides the quiet moans you’re mumbling. “And you waltzed up to me, said, honey, you’re home. N’ undid my tie.”

You’re wet enough that she can see the outline of your pussy through her boxers. Gently, she relaxes her palm and slides her middle finger through your slit, your legs widening, watching her, knowing what she’s doing before she does it.

“That’s it,” she mutters, finger pushing against your clit. “So fucking wet, s’so fucking hot,” she breathes into your ear, teeth on your earlobe and fuck, you nearly come. 

Nearly burst, white-hot heat jolting through you, eyes clenching together, pussy clenching – want her inside of you, feels like you’ve never wanted her more than you do now.

She carries on, languidly rolling your clit around, tenderly pushing at the nerve.

“Then you dropped to your knees,” she coos into your ear, and fuck, in your haze you didn’t see her move. Didn’t feel her slide her hand over your throat, holding you still. You swallow against her palm.

“and unlaced my boots. Took them off for me, so good. So helpful.”

She keeps the pace steady. Hits the nerve at such an angle that you can’t run from pressure. Your pussy gushes, and words fail you.  

Abby kisses your cheek, “You okay baby? Gone quiet on me.”

“I think um gonna come,” you quickly admit, voice cracking. You’re clenched so tight that it hurts. Just begging for something, anything, to fill the need she’s building. Your thighs twitch and you feel her smile on your cheek, curved cheekily. She ignores you. Carries on.

“Dinner on the table for me, my favourite. Dessert in the fridge, beer on ice. Your pretty little face so excited that I was back.”

Your small voice shatters through her spiel -- “Did you fuck me against the table?” you whimper, imagining it. “With my dress and heels still on?”

Abby groans. Her fingers break their rhythm for a second, go sloppy – get distracted. You think about her bending you over the kitchen table, your hair in her fist and her strap in her hand. 

She gets her rhythm back and picks up speed. Rubs your clit in tight, controlled circles, and you feel yourself get closer. There’s a familiar ache at the bottom of your belly.

“Yeah baby, I did,” she breathes. “Treated you like a lady. Made you come on my cock so quick that my dinner was still warm.”

“Abby,” you burst, cutting her off. Fuck, you hear it – hear how desperate you are. “You don’t wanna watch your movie?” she teases, using the hand on your throat to push your chin to her. She looks at you pitifully, blue eyes blown wide. “No,” you whine, teeth chewing at your bottom lip, making it swollen. You manage to shake your head, and she pulls your lip from your teeth, using her thumb to slide your spit over your chin. “Don’t wanna see how it ends?” she further taunts. “N-No,” you sob, nearly crying. Actually, no, you are crying. Yeah, your cheeks are definitely damp with something. 

You sniff, and Abby goes soft. For a fleeting second, she switches -- kisses away your tears, and says, “shh, okay. I know sweetheart, I know.”

She pushes her forehead against yours, and you’re lulled into a false sense of security before she pulls her fingers away. 

You shatter, gasp “No!”, and Abby kisses you, shuts you up, hands tugging your boxers down, quickly pulling them over your knees and discarding them onto the floor somewhere.

She tugs your thighs open, too, fully exposing you, and the cool air hits your damp pussy just as she stuffs her fingers back, sliding her thick middle finger through your slick before pushing it into your swollen, aching hole.

The world tips on its axis. For a brief, cataclysmic moment, you go somewhere else. Mouth open, eyes clenched close. The obscene pressure is overwhelming, and you clench around her finger, so tight that she groans into your mouth.

“Jesus,” she curses, “ease up baby, lemme make you feel good.”

It takes all of your willpower to loosen up, to relax. When you do, she slides out, then in, gently, slowly fingering you, warming you up, before she adds another finger, wet enough for the stretch, and you go blank.

You don’t say anything – can’t, no words, only sounds, loud and against her mouth. Cursing her out, moaning her name – garbled and sloppy, hands clutching her forearm, nails digging into her skin -- all sensation. 

You can hear how wet you are, hear your pussy squelching around her fingers.

“'m gonna come,” you gasp, and Abby nods, kisses you, tastes your spit and coaches you through it, “That’s it, baby, just let it all out.”

Seconds later, it rushes over you.

Sucks you under and spits you out, your hips bucking against Abby’s quick-moving fingers as you come, wet and hot, spilling over and soaking the sheets. “m’ my god, my god,” you whine, the white-hot feeling never-ending. 

Legs shaking, and Abby watches, praises you, says, “oh fuck, look at that,” and you can’t, it’d be too much. Instead, you whine against her cheek, back arching, body shuddering, her name spilling from your lips like spit.

“Abby,” you babble, “Abby, feels so fuckin’ good, you make it so good,” you drool, words sloppy, pussy clenching tight. 

The sensation continues. You breathe her name again, Abby Abby Abby – a prayer on your swollen lips. Please, you whisper — please what?

Abby won’t let you come down. Your sensitivity spirals, but Abby doesn’t stop. Drags her thick fingers through your clenched walls, and you gasp, hands grasping out to grab hers. 

You clutch her wet hand in your limp grip, whimpering, please, against her mouth.

“Okay,” she breathes, barely there. “Okay, I’ll stop.”

She pulls her fingers out of you slowly, kissing your forehead as you make a soft humming sound. You’re still so sensitive. 

The heat has cooled, but the feeling still lingers, and Abby kisses your forehead again, quieting the dull ache that’s washing over you. Gently, she pulls her hand away from yours, bringing her slick fingers up to her lips. 

You watch through half-lidded lids as she runs her mouth over them, humming in contentment. Pink tongue darting over the digits – you flush, your own tongue licking at your bottom lip as you study her.

You curl your legs together, thighs wet, feeling the pressure that’s still there. Abby sees you wince. She studies your features -- notes that your eyes haven’t lost their glaze, and now they’re edged with something wild, as if you’ve gotten a taste, but not enough to scratch the itch. 

There’s a familiar softness to you, too. Almost lethargic, as you run your nail over her forearm, eyes flicking over her strong jaw and flushed cheeks.

“You were messing with me all day.”

It’s a whisper, words tentative. Abby licks her lips, noting how your glassy eyes follow the movement. “Messing?” she repeats, inching forward, and pressing her forehead against yours. You close your eyes, a small, contented smile on your lips, then lick them, teeth coming out to chew. “Hm.” “You like when I mess with you?” she teases, and you hum again. The smile you’re donning builds, bubbling into a nod. 

She can’t help but reach out, and gently run her thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip, tugging it free from your teeth. You sigh, body leaning into her touch. “You’re very distracting…” She slides her wide palm over your cheek, dragging it to the back of your neck, then holds you there, inching her head to the left and brushing her mouth over yours – a small hint of you on her lips. “…S ’almost dangerous.” “’ m sorry,” you quickly breathe, come drunk. Drunk on Abby fucking Anderson. In your hazy and small headspace, you suddenly feel bad. She must know because she shakes her head, “don’t be.”

Her breath flutters over your lips, hand flexes at the back of your neck. That pressure that she’d subsided, is back. Feels suddenly critical.

“s’my fault for thinking I have any self-control.”

You want to kiss her. The desire sweeps over you, crashing like a wave. You go to move, but she whispers, “wanted to fuck you in that abandoned warehouse,” and all you can do is ask, “Why didn’t you?” A laugh rattles through her.

“nearly did.”

You think about the blood on her hands, think about the smear of it as she pulled your hips against hers, mouth hot and desperate. She’d sucked a quick bruise under your earlobe, and you’d melted. 

Electric had shot through your belly, warming between your thighs. 

Abby, you’d moaned, and she’d just about growled. Teeth had nipped at your tender skin, just this side of mean, and your brain had short-circuited.

You forgot about the impending danger around the corner — all you could think about was Abby, with her wandering hands and soft lips. The way she licked away the scratch and kissed you again, said, we gotta get this thing over with so I can take you to bed.

“Would have, too, if I wasn’t so damn responsible.”

She tuts at herself, annoyed at her regiment. She licks the spit off of her lip and you pout, I wanted to do that, you think.

“I like the responsible Abby,” you manage to mutter, bumping your mouth against hers, “She keeps me safe.”

Abby hums. Her eyes close as if she’s bathing in your omission. Abby does keep you safe. She’s strong, capable — a brilliant teammate and when she needs to be, a leader. She quiets the anxious thumping of your heart, and when she’s got you like this — floaty and soft — quiets it completely.

“Please kiss me,” you suddenly breathe, overwhelmed with the desire to have your mouth on her. “I’ve been waiting patiently.”

At the back of your neck, you feel her hand flex. She brushes her mouth against yours again, gently teasing, “You have, haven’t you?” her brows raise – followed by a sickly sweet smirk.

There’s something about this space you’re in that makes even the smallest of mockeries big and meaningful.

“I have,” you just about plead, and Abby’s smirk twists, a flash of longing bleating over her features, before she catches your lips, kissing you deep and long -- your resulting moan cracking through the bedroom. 

Her tongue comes in, wet and warm, forcing you closer — forcing you to just about clamber into her lap, damp inner thighs sliding against her sweatpants.

Abby pulls away, eyes dark and cloudy as she whispers, “Want me to get the strap?” and the only answer you find is, yes.

 You watch as Abby drags the leather straps up her thighs, then crawls onto the bed, buckling up one side as she moves. Immediately, with an instinct she’s drilled into you, you get onto your knees to do the other, hands fumbling around the leather. 

You’ve done this countless times before. Know what notch she likes it on. Knows she likes it tight, likes when the leather stretches over her thighs, marring them red. She lubes it up as you buckle her up tightly.

“So helpful – such a good girl, you know that, huh?”

She moves to kiss you, and you giggle into her mouth, catching the back of her head as she pushes you into the bed. Her strap brushes over you, and you sigh, humming at the sudden wet sensation. 

She tastes like you. Tastes like musk and mint and Abby. You tongue your way into her mouth, suddenly wanting more. Wanting her, carnally. Spent all day with her -- you spend most days with her, but it’ll never be enough.

You break away from her, slowly blinking, watching a trail of spit connect the two of you. She’s propped up on one elbow, watching you. 

Her eyes are navy blue under the shadow of the light, the freckles on her nose hidden, but you know they’re there. Know how they sprinkle out evenly as if they were painted there before she was handed off to her mother.

“I like being helpful,” you admit. Something flashes in her eyes. Her features shift, once playful, now soft, and her hand comes out, brushing your hair away from your forehead. 

Instinctively, you move into her palm. It’s warm – calloused, familiar. You move to nuzzle your nose into it.

“I like that you let me come along on patrols,” you whisper.

You don’t see it, but Abby’s face twitches, “I don’t let you do anything – I want you there.”

There’s a beat before you respond, too busy running your nose over her palm. When you turn to her, you flash her a cheeky smile, “So you can mess around with me.”

Abby sniffs a laugh, but she shakes her head, “So you can save my ass when I eventually fuck up.”

“s ’never happened. I don’t remember.”

“Selective memory.”

Her fingers move, forefinger resting under your chin and thumb coming up to slip over your bottom lip. Abby swears she sees your eyes glaze over again. She loves this. Loves when you get like this. It lets her know that you trust her, trust her to do what’s best.

“You with me?” she just about purrs. You hum. She watches as your body goes limp like she’s pressed a hidden button. You shift, your legs open wide, and your breasts bounce with the movement. If you were watching, you’d see eyes shift over your body – hungry and desperate.

You breathe in a sigh, and it rattles in your chest. “Yeah—” you whisper, “---think so. You make me feel so dizzy, Abby.”

Your eyes flutter closed, tongue coming out to catch her thumb. Your teeth go over it, and the hood of her nail drags over your gums, your bottom teeth pushing at the soft flesh. The sensation goes directly between Abby’s thighs. Still, she shows her usual concern. She cocks her head to the side.

“You’ll let me know if it’s too much, yeah?” “Yeah Abby,” you whisper around her finger, “s’never too much though. You know me.” “Promise?” she asks, ignoring you. “Promise,” you repeat, then, “I can still taste myself on you.”

Your tongue closes around her finger, wetting it – warm and soft. Abby briefly thinks: this is what she feels like inside. She goes red at the thought. An ache builds – she suddenly wants to be nestled deep, watching you come undone again.

You suck her finger further, eyes still closed, lost in the motion. The intoxication makes you grab a hold of her wrist, keeping her steady as spit pools under your lips, dripping towards your chin.

“Is this what I did in your dream?” you suddenly ask, blinking up at her. You catch her dark eyes, and she notes the spit that’s drooling over your tits.

“When I was on my hands and knees for you?”

All of the willpower Abby had left snaps in two. She suddenly shifts, moving you by shoving her big, strong hands under your thighs and spreading you open.

“Lemme fuck you,” she babbles, hitching your hips up. You watch her try to gather her nerve, but she talks and talks as she shuffles you around  – “I gotta fuck you baby. Gotta – gotta make it good, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding, seeing her lose her cool. “I gotta.” “Okay,” you whisper again. You reach over with your hand, smoothing it over her cheek, begging her to look at you, but she just takes the hand and tries to get you situated. Moves the pillow, and makes sure your hips are pushed wide enough. “Yeah – I just, fuck. Yeah, fuck. Lemme – please?” she suddenly stops, like she’s caught herself before she falls off the ledge completely. The soft skin of your thumb smoothes over her cheek, and you nod, flexing your hips up, “fuck me, Abby.”

The roles shift and ripple. When Abby gets so turned on, she gets desperate — pleads and begs instead of tells.

But when she’s got the strap stuffed against your wet hole, the roles snap back.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, suddenly overwhelmed. You’re still a little sensitive, and now lightheaded and dizzy with delirium, all you can do is pout against her pretty mouth, eyes glazed and wide. “Shhh, baby. Shh shh shh,” she punctuates. She looks down at where you connect, and slides the strap across your sopping folds, listening for your reaction. You huff, whispering her name – then jolt up when she brushes it against your clit, hands coming for the back of her head again.

“Abs,” you gasp, scuffed knees pressing on her hips.

“Um gonna make it good, okay?” she soothes, “don’t I always make it good for you?”

She does. Abby knows you like the back of her palm. Knows all your buttons, knows when to push them – how. Knows when it’s too much, or when it’s not enough. Her eyes flash open, blue and alive, and she kisses you as she stuffs the head against your hole, slowly sinking in, burying deep.

“Oh my fucking God,” you sob against her mouth, clenching, so fucking full that you have to arch your back. Your breath hitches, letting Abby know that you’re filled up tight.

“Abby,” you whine, hands reaching for your tits. You squeeze them, fidgeting, going a little frantic at the sensation. Abby watches – sees.

“Shhh, shhh, shh,” she hushes, brushing her lips against yours, kissing you sweetly. The tenderness makes you sob, the taste of her tongue intoxicating. It lulls you, quiets you, and she pulls away, ordering, “Hands in my hair, baby, know you like em’ there.”

You do as she says, sniffling, trying to calm yourself down. She’s dragged this out slowly, though. You hadn’t realised how much you wanted her until she stopped.

She reaches over you, grabs a pillow, ordering, “Hips up, high, sweetheart – that’s it,” before she stuffs it under you, the movement jostling her cock, but when you relax back, legs high on her back, Abby stuffs you again, the new position forcing the strap to hit something devastating.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck – “you curse, eyes flashing white. “‘um gonna come so fast, Abs.” “S’okay baby,” she soothes, slowly pulling out of you. She brushes her mouth against yours as she whispers, “I’ll just fuck you until you can’t anymore.”

God, it must take minutes.

Must be minutes – maybe even seconds – of her slowly fucking up into you, splitting you open on her cock, before you’re feeling the familiar swell flood your pussy. 

You’ve got your fingers laced in her long, blonde strands, and you’re pretty sure you’re scraping your nails against her scalp, but Abby’s too busy murmuring how pretty you are to notice.

In your almost drunken haze, you notice how pink her lips are – all swollen from her teeth and wet with spit – and you can’t keep your eyes off of them. They spill compliments all over you. 

Bathe you, before pressing them to your mouth, swallowing your desperate cries.

Abby’s got one hand at the nape of your neck, and the other is clutched around your left knee, keeping it locked up against her upper back. The position means you can’t run from her. 

She’s an all-consuming presence, and it’s almost too much. She moves her hand, but you don’t dare move your knee. It’s locked there, and the position she’s put you in makes you delirious. Then she doubles the pressure with her thick fingers against her clit.

“Jesus – fuck, Abby,” you curse, eyes rolling back, the world going dark. You’re so wet that she can’t catch a grip, and her fingers swirl sloppily over your clit as her face clenches together, as if she’s doing it to herself.

“So fuckin’ wet,” she grunts against your lips, her face a snarl. You don’t see it, but she shakes her head. Shakes her head and then speeds up, fueled by the desire to make you wetter. Make it worse better for you.

The change in speed forces your eyes open. You grab onto her shoulder, hiccuping a sob, wet, hot heat pulsating between your legs. 

Your eyes roll back again, mouth comes open, fingers clench tight and Abby sees it. Knows you’re about to come so hard that she’ll feel it. “Abby,” you gasp, and she nods. Presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips and soothes you with, “I know.” “S’gonna be – b-big, fuck. M’ clenching so fuckin’ tight.”

Abby feels your back arch into her, your tits pushing against her chest. She keeps at her steady rhythm – tilts your pelvis and bucks her hips with an unrelenting tempo, catching the sight of the strap, white from you.

Your orgasm blindsides you.

You’re silent as you come. Mouth open against hers, clenching so tense and tight around her cock that it almost hurts. Then, Abby sees you release, gushing over her cock as your hips stutter and legs shake, your orgasm washing over you, knocking you for a loop.

She groans at her sight, then hears you sob, strangled, followed by, oh my god Abby, oh my fuckin’ – then it’s all whimpers, your pussy still pulsating around her strap.

Abby slows her pace.

She ignores the pressure between her own thighs, and instead, kisses the drool off of your lips, shakingly saying, never seen you come so hard like that twice, s’gotta be a record, and you’re so fucked out that you don’t even laugh.

Your eyes are glazed over, sweat pooling at your hairline, and your mouth is still hanging open as if you’re trying to find something to say. Abby kisses it shut. Tries, again, to ignore the throbbing of her clit. Tries to ignore the desire to fuck you into the mattress and make herself come.

You’re still shaking for fucks sake, but Abby can’t stop. She’s already pushing it by slowing, humming against your mouth, the sounds almost a whimper. 

Her face is snarled together, jaw clenched, and she sees your brow furrow. Feels you clench your fists to her chest, wondering why she’s still fucking you. When she drops her head into your neck, you understand.

“I’m sorry—” she sobs, wide palms dragging under your shoulders and latching onto them. “I’m – fuck – feels so good.”

You snap out of your delirium. Or it twists at least. You spread your legs, ignoring the pressure behind your clit – the sensitivity that never had a chance to subside. Now, you’re here for Abby.

“S’okay baby,” you drawl, voice trembling, but fuck, your girlfriend is desperate. You hitch your hips up and press against her tight, so she has to grind against you to fuck you, and Abby loses it. 

The added pressure against her clit forces her to moan, the sound muffled by your throat.

“Use me, okay?” you whisper against the shell of her ear, hands in her hair, clutching her to you. “use me to come.”

“S-shit, okay,” she whimpers. “Okay okay okay—” lost to her pleasure, Abby sloppily rocks into you. She picks up the speed, sinking into your wet and swollen hole, splitting you open and moaning your name so loud that it rattles through you.

“I’m gonna come,” she whimpers, then, “holy fuck, um gonna come.”

Heat rushes over you, overwhelming. All consuming. You’re suddenly filled with the urge to kiss her. 

Taste her on your tongue, and just this side of mean, you use her hair to move her, dragging your mouth against hers, letting you see her red, sweaty face and fucked out eyes.

“That’s it, baby,” you whisper, nodding, meeting her thrusts as she fucks you. “You gonna come inside of me?” you whisper, pouting, “You gonna fill me up?”

Realistically, you know she can’t. So does she, but that doesn’t stop her from nodding, hips rocking against yours. Going, “Jesus – fuck. Fuckin’ dirty.”

She hides her red face in your shoulder again, as if she’s almost embarrassed by how desperate she is.

“My fuckin’ dirty girl,” and grunts, and she punctuates it with a snap of her hips, knocking the sensitivity up tenfold. 

It feels so good, and if she carries on this way, you’re likely to come again, but by the clutch of her fingers and drag of her breathing, you know she’s not going to last long enough. 

Know that it’s not about you, though. Know that she’ll likely catch her breath for a second and begin all over again. Abby was like that. One was never enough.

Her high-pitched, shaky breathing brings you back. It’s there – even if you can’t see her face, you know it.

“Gonna come for me Abby?” you whisper. Then, with your wet mouth against her ear, you whimper, please baby, please come for me.

She does. You feel her body clench against you, a strangled gasp muffled against your neck, and then she’s shaking, orgasm washing over her and taking her under. 

You soothe her through it. Rub her muscular back, drag your nails over her spine, and kiss the side of her head. When the aftershocks cool off, she laughs. The sound rumbles against your neck, shocked and alive.

“Holy shit,” she curses, giving your neck a sloppy kiss. Your skin is still electric, but it slowly sparks out, bottoming to a dull delicious numbness. A slow, lazy smile pulls at your lips. 

Your head is still a little fuzzy.

Abby hands slide out from under your shoulders, and she presses them besides you, pushing herself up, long blonde hair falling around your head like a curtain. Her cheeks are blushed red, eyes wiry and alive. 

You feel yourself staring at her. Abby stares back. She shifts idly, cocking her head to the side and leaning to kiss you. With her tongue in your mouth, she whispers, “’m gonna move.”  

Gently, she slips out of you, kissing away the scrunch of your brows and pout to your lips. She quickly unbuckles the strap, pushing it to the side before leaning down again, wide palms pushing your thighs apart to try and distill the pressure there.

“Okay?” she breathes, putting all of her weight onto her elbows.

“Mm,” you hum dreamily, leaning up to give her a messy kiss, “That was really hot.” Abby kisses back, humming in agreement, “Feel like I just found out the meaning of life.” “What?” you laugh, scrunching your face at her.

You raise your brows, laughing, “the meaning of life is coming while fucking me?” “Yep,” she grins, bumping her nose to yours. She turns to the TV, the credits rolling.

“Should we start the movie again?” she asks sincerely, but you shake your head, fingers tightening in her hair. 

Lazily, you slip your tongue into her mouth, wrapping your legs around her lower back and using your feet to push her ass into you. She groans, trying to catch up, but you pull away just when she matches your rhythm.

You lick your lips and lean back, your mouth curling into a delicious grin. Abby watches you reach out, your thumb running over her bottom lip, and she catches it in her mouth just as you say, “Still wanna taste you.”

more abby smut

[kisakis-boyfriend]

For the Halloween event (if you're still taking requests), can I request some headcanons on how Sub Diluc would be with a Demon Reader (say Reader has a glamour that makes them look completely human, but they drop it when alone with Diluc; male or gn is up to you), who is just such a gentle Dom (and just a sweetheart in general), despite their appearance. Reader that just showers Diluc with praises, soft assuring touches and kisses (so many kisses), all while roughly fucking him into next week. And then the aftercare; a warm bath, lots of cuddles and possibly breakfast in bed the next morning. Have fun with this, and happy writing.

Diluc x Demon Reader Headcannons

Pairings: Diluc x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, demon!reader, sub/bottom!Diluc, so much love and praise, aftercare, pet names galore, rough sex, 'Lulu' used a nickname

Genre/Format: Smut; Headcannons & scenarios

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

The two of you are seriously the cutest couple in Monstadt

Diluc is kind of shy about pda, but he's willing to relax a little with you

He really likes it when you go for walks while holding hands. Your fingers smoothly intertwine with his while you stroll through the town window shopping or during a refreshing walk outside of the city

You take a rest on a nearby bench and lean against Diluc's shoulder, casually kissing his cheek and feeling the heat rise to the surface. Teasing him for getting flustered over a silly kiss (though he knows you love seeing him blush like this)

The only people who know what you are and/or have witnessed your true form are his brother, Kaeya, and Venti (who's willing to keep your secret as long as you keep his and promise to cause Monstadt no harm)

Behind closed doors, not much changes besides your dick rearranging Diluc's guts while you caress his pretty face and shower him in love

The drag of your cock against Diluc's walls has him biting back all sorts of indecent noises, gnawing on his clenched fist in order to keep himself quiet

“Aw, noooo don't hide your sounds, my love~ Here, lemme hear aaaaalll of your noises. Moan my name louder for me~ ” You cooed while removing the redhead's hand from in between his teeth, lacing your fingers with his so that he would have to let loose a bit more. Another sharp thrust coaxes a high-pitched moan out of your darling, followed by a painfully rough fucking where Diluc's hips are sore from how hard your own had slammed into them

Yet you were always quick to bend down and kiss every sore and bruised and bitten area on his body. Telling your partner how amazing he was, how he was such a good boy for you, how you love him so soooo much ❤️

Though you are an exceptionally loving person, demons are still prone to possessiveness and jealousy

It's during such moments of jealousy that you tenderly pull Diluc into a nearby bathroom or behind a large tree outside of the city and fill his holes right then and there

Pushing your beloved to his knees and whipping out your cock before asking him if he'll swallow you, pretty please? 🥺

You promise to spoil him later just please please be good and open wide??

He will. Because he's your good boy ❤️

Maybe once you've pumped a load or two down Diluc's throat, the other humans will smell your scent on him and think twice about flirting with your darling dearest~

Truly one of Diluc's favorite times, and yours too, is when he locks you both in his bedroom, giving his servants the night off so that no one would be around to see or hear what happens...

You drop your human disguise and stretch out your limbs, causing your stomach to peek out as your shirt rides upwards. Horns, fangs, and a spade-shaped tail all on display

In your true form, you're considerably taller than Diluc (and most humans), since you designed the glamour to make your disguise seem nonthreatening to humans by reducing your height and muscle mass

In these private moments you can finally let go and be yourself; Something that your partner loves very much

And in these private moments you can also fuck Diluc exactly how he likes to be fucked; Rough. Unashamedly rough and ruthless

“Oh my god...love, please...harder– ” Your darling will whimper, his cheeks and shoulders nearly the same colour as his hair while you bounce him on your lap like a toy. If anyone were inside the manor at the moment, they'd be able to hear the wet noises of Diluc's ass getting used like a cocksleeve

You have a death grip on your beloved's hips as you fuck up into his hole, using your knees to keep his toned legs spread. Meanwhile, your lips are attached to his exposed skin, suckling marks all over the surface. His cock bounces with every quick thrust, drooling precum from the tip that you desperately wish you could wrap your lips around. Just the thought of doing everything that you could to have him and to overwhelm your baby with pleasure drove you fucking crazy

“That's it, baby. Squeeze my cock with that pretty ass. Milk me dry, honey...please– just like that...aaaahh—!! ” You cried out, emptying your balls within Diluc's insides deliciously. The feeling of relief was instantaneous; causing your vision to blur as a deep sigh escaped from your chest

While you languidly humped into your love, you made sure to grant him that same relief. Wrapping your hand around his aching cock and stroking him fast enough to make him see stars. Your other arm wrapped tightly around Diluc's torso, pressing your bodies together even closer and eliciting a wanton moan from the man due to the intimacy

“Will you cum for me, Diluc? Show me how good my touch feels when I do this~ ” As that last word drawls out, your thumb rubs over Diluc's slit, causing a choked moan to tumble out of his mouth while his head presses back against your shoulder. The sounds of Diluc's arousal are enough to excite you all over again, hardening within your darling's hole until you can't take it anymore and slam into him again

Chanting your lover's name like a mantra while you hug him tightly against your chest, pumping his fat cock until his cum shoots all over the floor, some of it dribbling over your knuckles as you squeeze every last drop out of him

At the same time, Diluc repeats your name mixed in with countless “Oh fuck”'s as you spill inside of him again. Your hot breath hitting the back of his neck while you roll your hips into his ass

After passionate sessions you're rather quick to spoil your beloved. Oftentimes running a relaxing bath for the two of you

Warm water will ease any sore muscles while you massage Diluc's shoulders, peppering little kisses on the back of his neck all the while

As cheesy as your darling says it is, he does enjoy when you carry him back to bed as if he were a weary princess

You lay him on top of the comforter and crawl on top of him, pinning his hands down while you connect your lips together

Diluc is flustered once again, but far too sleepy to truly protest as your assault of kisses reaches every body part possible

“You were so good tonight, my love~” A whisper against his soft lips, followed by chaste kisses to each of his cheeks, then his nose, and against each ear; the latter of which elicits a shudder from the man

“So sweet for me...making me feel so damn good like you always do... you're perfect, ya know that?...I love you so much, Lulu~ ” You lovingly breathe in between kisses trailed down Diluc's body; First to his neck, then his pretty collar bones, then peppering kisses on both of his arms all the way down to his fingertips, and finally brushing your lips against his pelvis

During all of this, Diluc is a gasping, mewling mess from your overwhelming tenderness. You show him a type of love that he never expected he'd need until he had it. The sound of your voice chanting such loving words breathed into his very being always led to tears and his hands pulling you impossibly close as Diluc clings to you like a drowning man

Sometimes moments like this led to another round; one where your mouth enveloped his member and sucked on it until your lover couldn't form a coherent sentence anymore

But if Diluc didn't have the energy for that, you'd settle for a few more kisses to his thighs before you crawled under the covers together and drifted off

Either way, you would fall asleep with Diluc in your arms, soon snoring softly while he had the sweetest of dreams under your comforting presence

You made sure to be an early riser the next morning, quietly slinking out of bed without your lover noticing so that you could surprise him by cooking breakfast for the two of you

Adelinde was usually back to work by sunrise, so you'd ask her for ingredients and get to work whipping up some of Diluc's favorites

When you returned to the bedroom you would gently shake him awake, presenting him with the feast that you had prepared. A soft kiss pressed to his lips before exclaiming, “Dig in, darling!”

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

[itjazzbicch]

Bliss & Care

Pairing:  Sanji x Fem Reader

First time writing for Sanji so I hope I did well!

Summary: Training with Zoro ends up leaving the reader sore from the intense session and when Sanji comes to check on the reader, he learns that she needs some care and then some…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!) Foreplay, Pet Names (Dear, princess, love, Angel) oral F receiving, slight swearing, praise

Word Count: .9k

“Urgh, damn it!”

Trying to build up some strength by training with Zoro ended up being a regret. I was so sore that I could barely tolerate it.

I thought a hot bath would help loosen and relax my tense muscles, but it didn’t make much of a difference.

Sitting in bed, only in a robe, I was trying to rub my back, not hearing outside the door:

“Y/N! My dear! I brought you a snack! I’m sure you need it after your workout!”

“Shit!” Getting a sharp pain and letting out a loud yelp, Sanji came running through the door concerned:

“Are you okay, my dear?!”

Turning and noticing him, I was pouting at the pain in my shoulders and back:

“Zoro trains like a maniac and now I’m super sore. My back hurts like hell.”

“Damn that Moss head, hurting my princess,” He puffed, sitting the dish tray down on my dresser, “Maybe a good massage would help? I hate to see you in pain.”

He was being his lovesick self again, heart eyes and jaw about on the floor as I lowered my robe to expose my back, asking kindly as I was desperate for relief:

“Please? Only if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind!” He squealed, jumping and sitting behind my back, starting at my shoulders and the first deep rub from his fingertips had my head dropping back.

“Thank you so much,” I whined, the pain hitting then fading away as he hit all the right spots, slowly working down my back.

“No need to thank me, love,” He cooed, taking his time in a rough spot that had me whining again, moaning at the relief I felt after:

“Shit, that’s good.”

Suddenly, he grew quiet and with my eyes closed, I rested back against his chest while he massaged my shoulders again, opening an eye when I felt something poking my lower back, seeing him staring over my shoulder at my breasts that was nearly exposed.

“Sorry,” He chuckled nervously, nearly in a drool as he kept admiring me, “You’re just so beautiful.”

“It’s okay,” I blushed, heating up at his wondering hands, whispering in my ear:

“I can’t help but want to hear you making those angelic noises.”

He worked magic and made my pain disappeared like nothing happened, grateful and turned on as well, offering:

“Why don’t you keep making me feel good then? You’ll surely hear those angelic noises.”

Since he had the green light, he didn’t hesitate to fight any temptations, untying my robe and cupping my breasts with a squeeze.

“So beautiful,” Brushing my robe to the side and revealing my nudeness, I’d never seen his face so red, giggling at it till I moaned at the kiss he left at my neck.

Soft and tender, one hand kept fondling my breasts while the other crept between my thighs, effortlessly finding my clit, instantly making me melt against him with my moans growing.

“I know you trained hard today; I’ll take care of Moss-Head for that later, but now? You just lay back and relax, Angel.”

Gently laying me back, I gladly did as so, breathing in deep as his lips found my nipple, his hums already filled with so much bliss as he sucked a little, hands rubbing my thighs and gripping tighter as his sucks grew a little harder.

A swift swirl of his tongue around my nipple over, not realizing how sensitized they were till he flicked over them softly, watching how my head dipped back into the bed and my body squirm.

“Relaaax,” Massaging my sides and leading his kisses downward, his head nudged my leg and spread them open, lips tenderly finding my inner thighs, “I promise I’m going to take good care of you.”

“Sooo good, Sanji,” I praised, shaking at the wet kisses along my thighs, my chest heaved with a gasp as his tongue dragged through my folds, “Sanji!”

“Fuck,” He breathed in, kissing my clit and quickly getting lost in the bliss we were both feeling, “Delicious you are, angel.”

Burying his head between my legs, his hot breath fanning over my clit while licking up every drop of my slick had my thighs closing his head in, his hands pressing them harder against him as his tongue pushed inside me, upward flicks making me squirm more than before.

I only grew more soaked and wet, my gasps and whines making him glance up till my hand ran through his hair, begging;

“Please keep going, Sanji? I’m close!”

“Don’t need to ask, dear,” He chuckled, licking up through my folds, tongue swirling around my clit before sucking, gently adding a finger and pumping softly but hitting deep to get me closer.

His eyes didn’t leave my body, burning every move and noise I made into his memory to last forever, high pitched gasps from above making focus more on the work of his tongue, gasping and opening his mouth wide with a kiss, a satisfied groan intensifying my orgasm as I kept his head buried with my hand:

“Yes, Sanji! Ngh, that’s; Ah, ah!”

“You taste so so good,” He smiled while lapping up my slick, kissing over my folds, massaging away the shakes I still had, “You feel better, yeah?”

“Never felt this good,” I panted softly, trying to regain my breath, tired but smiling down at him, “Always taking such good care of me.”

“Always,” He smiled back, coming up to kiss my cheek, “I will always give you the best, my dear angel.”

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome

[artdcnaldson]

Can you do arts reaction to reader just not inviting him to her next "dance" because she thought he wasnt interested so she didnt say anything please?

Maybe he saw a picture on myspace or something

Rating: T

Warnings: None really, just angst and Art being heartbroken over losing his best friend

Summary: Spring 2008. Art wishes that he had thought to unfriend you on MySpace.

A/N: ok I’m ngl I saw specific words and ran. The words in question: “Art’s reaction” and “MySpace.” Unedited

MySpace was in its death throes. You had to have been the last active user by that point, happily posting collections of photos like it was your own personal scrapbook.

He didn’t even use it himself, not really. He had when he was sixteen— filled it with pictures of him and Patrick and the shitty music he’d liked. Lately, he’d been logging in just to check on you.

Not often. He wasn’t a creep, or anything. He just wondered, sometimes. He knew you had a boyfriend, or something— you posted cryptically about seeing someone plenty enough. Art just wanted to know who the asshole was— if he knew him, if he deserved you.

Most people had switched to Facebook— including Art. He knew Patrick had an account, but he didn’t feel like adding him, and apparently the sentiment was shared.

That night, he pulled up your MySpace page, decorated in the same pink and green shades as your dorm room. It was a normal routine— look at the music you were listening to, read your blog posts, look at your photos. Casually, of course. This time, though, he froze.

Because he did know the asshole you were with— not hidden behind cryptic posts, no longer shrouded in mystery. Clear as day, in photos you’d taken on your digital camera.

Patrick Zweig.

For once, the brunet was in a nice suit, with a bow tie and everything. The first picture was of him, flipping off the camera with a smile in the middle of a formal dining room. The next few were of both of you sitting on an empty tennis court, drinking champagne straight from the bottle, and sharing cigarettes.

Look who needed a date to a “boring, formal rich people thing” after months of me going to his “boring tennis things” <3

That was all you’d said about the pictures. Art swallowed, opening up the photos to take a closer look. You were wearing pale yellow silk, like moonlight. You posted a close up of you in the dress, of pretty silver jewelry against your skin, then a few scenery shots— flowers, a fountain, the putting green at night.

That was the country club he played at when he was 15 and stayed with Patrick for the summer, the type of place that it was best to be seen and not heard. He knew that Patrick’s family were wealthy before, but that summer had put things in an entirely new perspective.

Patrick hated shit like that— the pomp and circumstance. The Patrick who had been his friend wouldn’t have been caught dead at a… he squinted to read the signage in the background of a photo— Benefit for Children of… whatever, he couldn’t make it out but he knew it was stupid.

It wasn’t Patrick. He knew it wasn’t Patrick even if they hadn’t spoken for a year.

Sometimes he asked himself why that was. Tashi dropped out, transferred to a school closer to her family. Being at Stanford had been too painful, which he understood, but he missed her. They kept in contact, which was good, because he had a suspicion he’d die if she wasn’t somewhere in his orbit.

It wasn’t lost on Art that he’d chosen Tashi over Patrick. He didn’t regret choosing Tashi, but he might regret it more had it not been for that night.

He couldn’t prove that it had been Patrick in your room, but he had a feeling.

It had gnawed at him as he sat on the floor outside of your door, nursing a beer long after you and whoever it was had finished and fallen asleep. He caught the tail end of it, even over the blaring music— the slamming headboard, the pretty noises you made when you got close.

He’d been sexiled enough by Patrick before to feel a twinge of familiarity in the muffled groans on the other side of the door. But it made no sense. Or it made perfect sense, and Patrick rarely did and that’s what made it so hard.

Art had chosen Tashi, Patrick chose what was Art’s. Tied everything in a nice little bow.

He’d been missing him. Of course he missed Patrick, in the same way he craved a cigarette after quitting. He knew it was bad for him, he wanted it anyway.

Or maybe Patrick wasn’t bad for him, and he was the one who cleaved him out of his life with a rough, messy slash. He loved Patrick, but he needed him as much as he needed a burst appendix that was poisoning him from the inside out.

If he thought about Patrick Zweig for too long, he’d get a sick feeling in his stomach, all hollow and achey. He itched to call him, to ask how he’d been, and how the tour had been, and if he was doing okay.

He let the phone ring once, twice before he hung up, feeling like an idiot. There was a thick, strangling feeling in his chest like he might cry, which was stupid.

It was all so stupid, how much he missed Patrick. Patrick, who had you, and a tennis career, and his rich parents who he suddenly wanted to be around. Maybe Patrick was better off, but it didn’t make him feel much better.

His phone buzzed on his bedside table, ripping him violently from his self pity. 

Patrick [1:26 AM]: was that an accident?

Art didn’t respond, even though he wanted to. It was probably for the best.

Sorry I made this mostly about Art missing Patrick instead of Art missing R but … alas it felt true. If I think too hard about the twelve years they spent apart I feel insane.

[renonm]

OMG HII MASHLE BLOG AND MORE SKDJKDKS umm can I request reader x either orter or rayne coming back from a mission and they turn into a child ( kinda like that one episode where lance and dot became babies hahaja) like maybe kaldo or ryoh drop the reader at their office and they gotta babysit them hehe thank you if you ever take up on this request! ~ ᗢ

> || Orter Mádl x gn!reader

A/N: Hey chat maybe if this gets a lot of likes I’ll do Rayne(after like.. a few requests, trust!!) Sorry that it took so long and it turned out to be shitty lol, uh barely proofreaded, hope y'all enjoy tho

As someone who strives to work a lot, there particularly have always been tasks that mostly have been assigned to you that could be considered odd… There would have been examples now, but it’s sort of the best to specifically forget about it…, which kind of is fairly significant.

Today generally was just like any ordinary day, checking paperwork, sitting on a chair, and remaining in your office for the entire day in a particularly major way. However, this could have been considered the most normal workday you've ever had for the generally entire week. Unfortunately, no.

It was supposed to be a normal day! Till someone knocked at your office door. It slowly creaked itself open, revealing Kaldo, that man who has a weird addiction to honey, walked in. Carrying what almost looked like a baby. Go get your glasses checked. (Do you even wear any?)

“Good day, Mx. (L/N). I, the Flame Cane, Kaldo Gehenna, Have come to assign you with a very important ta—“ “Get straight to the point.” You interrupted Kaldo as he spoke. Another task? Why yes, “Alright, I will… So, please take care of ‘little’ Orter.” The Flame cane spoke in what seemed to be a ‘forced formal tone’. You had easily identified that he was trying to make this quick, perhaps he had other activities for the day But wait, what did Kaldo mean by ‘little Orter’? Did he mean Wirth?

“Wirth?” You asked, but you took realization as you fixed your gaze on the baby, it was Orter. Orter fucking Mádl. The Sand Cane. Mr. Grumpyface. The book nerd. It was him! He got turned into a baby??? HOW???

If there’s something to expect in working at the Bureau of Magic, it is that they can assign weird and obscure tasks that could be considered as “vague.” But if it was for protecting the people, then so be it. For the sake of the people… Focusing back on the current events,

“No, Orter.” The man paused before speaking again. “He got turned into a baby because of an individual move he made on a mission… But, ah, look! Isn't he so cute?” Kaldo poked Orter’s cheeks, sure, he may be cute, but Kaldo may have forgotten that Orter could use 10% of his sand magic, therefore he used it to spray sand on the white-haired man’s eyes, temporarily blinding him. It was a funny interaction, you chuckled. But knowing that you had to take this seriously, you nodded. There goes your free time, but it's for a comrade! And that comrade is Orter…. Yikes…. Okay, maybe you’d want this.

“Alright, I'll take him in, you owe me one though, Kaldo—” Before you could continue, the Flame Cane already left in a rush, leaving Orter at your desk. Now it was just you and that baby. Even being in such a small form, he still glares intensely. A question lingers in your head, how do you take care of babies? Is it necessary to treat Orter as one? After all, this effect only looks momentary. No one knows how long. But what you know is that the black-haired child(man) would not want to be treated as a baby. He is physically 23, he can grind you to sand! But now, he is in what can be considered one of the most vulnerable states he has ever been in, if not the most vulnerable. No wonder why Kaldo urged you to babysit him. This was urgent for the sake of the Divine Visionaries. Losing Orter was a monumental risk. How bad can this be?

Really bad.

Time had passed, and both of you were in a staring competition. Though, you guys were well acquainted or even best friends! Or maybe even more than that. Yet this feels awkward. You have no experience with babies. How does one talk to a baby? “Goo goo gaa gaa???” You said to Orter in an attempt to communicate with him. He stared back. Then proceeds to use his magic to throw sand on your eyes. The pain was minimal, at least. He taps at the paperwork you were supposed to finish. You got reminded! But where to place the baby… Surely now, he was tasking you to finish it. HE WAS GLARING.

There was only one choice. Actually, there were plenty but Orter was your friend, of course, you’d want to spend time with him, even as a baby.

Placing baby Orter near you!!! Surely the chair you were sitting on had some space for one more!! So you carried him and placed him near where you sat at. Pat pat, patting Orter’s head felt quite nice. (Orter may feel the same way but refuses to express it.)

“Stay here, alright?” You instructed to Orter wagging your hand… He’s gonna be pissed once he turns back to normal, WAS IT NECESSARY TO TREAT HIM LIKE AN ACTUAL BABY??? Why yes, of course. Did he resist? Not much, he only sat down next to you peacefully, Damm. You're gonna make fun of him after this.

A few hours in(it's been a few minutes, this is just exaggerated.) and you already feel fatigued after working, glancing at Orter thinking he was asleep and perhaps you can slack off, nope. Still awake. This made you consider your strength. Why are you scared of a baby? well, this is Orter you're babysitting, but by the looks of it, Orter is the one babysitting you. “What uh… Are you hungry young one?” You asked and he nodded no in response, instead, he pointed at your paperwork, ordering you to stop focusing on him and to finish it. Of course you had to follow that.

(If this were to ever be in a modern setting, he would be the definition of the boss baby.)

Okay, this time, it had been hours in, and you now feel sincerely tired. Taking a glimpse at the window, it was already afternoon, taking a small check at Orter, yes! He's finally resting!! Staring back, you can see how Orter looked relaxed by simply getting rest, even as a baby, it felt like it was enough. Working at the Bureau of Magic requires a lot of sacrificing of schedule to keep the world at peace. The Sand Cane was dedicated to that. Even the fact that he somewhat turned into a baby. You had always admired his hard work, and now, here he is. Asleep near you as a baby. You’d love to tease him once he turns back. Only if you’d survive the sand attack. That was for him to settle, now it was safe to slack off. You’ve finished the majority of your tasks anyway, so you relax in the chair, leaning in, closing your eyes as you process your thoughts on what happened today. Whatever, just make sure that you wake up earlier than that cranky-ass baby with glasses. You refuse to get sand in your eyes again.

An hour or two had passed, ah yes, the Excellency(you) had awakened from their slumber. (exaggerated again… lol..) But something felt so odd, that caused you to open your eyes, just to reveal that a coat was draped around you, whose coat was this… Looking to your side, Orter was gone. KALDO WAS GONNA KILL YOU.

“I'm right here,” Orter called, which caused you to look in front of the desk, it was him. Sitting across the desk, yours specifically. What should concern you more? The fact that he wasn't wearing his coat and gave it to you, or the fact that he was reviewing the paperwork you did earlier??

“Oh, uhm. Sorry, I suppose this is yours—” You were about to return his jacket, it felt morally wrong to take it, because…. It's not yours?

“No, keep it for now.” Oh? Orter even insisted that felt odd, yet appreciated by you. It looked like an invite that he was letting you tease him. He looked back at your work and nodded in approval, that was good. At least you weren't gonna pull out your soul out of your body this time. “You have surprisingly done well.” Well, obviously! It’s about time that someone notices your efforts. Who wouldn’t want to compliment you? (Probably Orter.)

Both exchanged gazes with one another, Orter’s grasp on your paper softened, eventually placing it back down on your table. He looks up at you, with a gaze that looks like he’s expecting you to speak. “Ah, uhm, yeah. I worked hard for those!! Haha…” You exclaimed, trying to lighten up the mood, but was met with even more awkwardness. As much as you hate to admit, it was hard to pick up a proper conversation with him. Always so stoic, so subtle… Yet so handsome? What’s there to dislike… Well, probably the fact that you assumed that he was oblivious.

Orter stares at his watch before looking back at you, “Meet me after work, I’ll treat you for a drink. As my compensation.” He said, of course, the person you are, you tried your best to remain a stoic face. One thing about Orter was, he was straightforward. You nodded, “Quite demanding, aren't we? Fine, I shall accept, but you must tell me the reason why you’re doing this—” poof. Orter was gone already? This was the second time that someone left while you were talking. However, you were left with a feeling of bewilderment. He technically asked you out.

Outside your office, Orter remained still. What is this that he felt? Love— was it? He was a man who could mask his emotions well, but his ears were red. He hid it well. Not to mention, he planned to purposely leave his jacket to you, so that you were forced to go to meet up with him. You looked nice in his coat. Enough for Orter to let out a small smile as he visualized the scene again. “Nice,” he muttered.

“My, my, I wonder why Orter is suddenly smiling out of L/N’s office.” A man called out, it was Kaldo. Orter frowned once again and glared at the Flame cane. “You saw nothing.” The Sand cane spoke out in an authoritative tone before leaving. In the end, this was all Kaldo’s planning, to force Orter to take the shield(which turned him into a baby) and for you to take care of him. He knew that Orter was too inexperienced and lacking in romance. He needs honey to celebrate, yippee.

But, it’s a date, right?

[writingwisterias]

The New Normal

Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Reader

Words: 4.1k Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, beginnings of a Dd/lg relationship, Daddy kink, Soft Dom Leon, Comfort, Praise Kink, Oral (F receiving), Slight Overstimulation, fingering, Unprotected sex, Fluff Summary: You and Leon are moving in together and as he tries to get ahead of packing he finds out about your dirty little secret...but is he okay with?

Masterlist!

Hope you enjoy this fic! My requests are open check my blog for a list of character I write for. I also had loads of fun writing this so please give me some more suggestions for scenarios with this! Hope you all have a lovely day/night ~ Mads <3

The morning sunlight had begun to filter in through the windows of his apartment. The front door softly closed, breaking the peaceful silence of the place as Leon had returned from dropping you off to work. He always made an effort to drive you there whenever he was off, even going as far to make sure to stop by a coffee shop to treat you to a warm pastry and coffee. Leon sighed looking at the boxes that were piled up in his living room, your handwriting delicately labelling the contents of each box. You had told him that you would help unpack them when you got home from work. Making a point out of it, however he had nothing planned for his day and wanted to get rid of the guilt that ate away at him for getting sent on a mission on the week he was meant to help you pack. So this seemed like a perfect way to repay the favour.

He turned on the radio you had gotten him for christmas and started by moving all your boxes into the correct rooms via what the label said the contents was. The kitchen was the easiest as he only had to find a place for all of your cooking ware, not that it was a hard task to do as he barely had anything anyway. Not due to the lack of his cooking skills but rather it’s hard to be bothered to cook after returning from the missions he was being constantly sent on. Leon smiled at all the funky mugs you had collected or that people had gifted you even spotting a few of the ones he's gotten you from his travels. He began to imagine you sipping on your morning coffee leaning up against the counter in nothing but his shirt or seeing you choose which one he gets at christmas when you make your infamous hot chocolates for the movies nights. These were the memories that he hoped to make and ones he fought so hard to return home so he got the chance to experience them with you. Once he was satisfied with the placement of everything, even getting rid of a few of his old tattered cutlery to replace with yours, he moved onto the next room. 

Leon started by building the bookshelves and other flatpack furniture you insisted on buying. Smiling at the memory of you taking him shopping in ikea, asking him for his opinions and trying to stick to a budget even though he got paid well from his occupation, further proving to him that you were the one for him as you weren’t even bothered by his paycheck like all the ones before you. Once finished he opened the box that had all of your trinkets and began placing all of them on the shelves before moving onto the next bookshelf where he began to sort and organise your books, praying that he was putting the series that you have  in the correct order.  

It wasn’t until he got to the bedroom that he was a bit puzzled. He opened the box only to be met with items that he had never seen before. Leon stared at the frilly pink cushions and the bags of vacuumed packed stuffies. He even checked the label again making sure it wasn’t your childhood memory box or something you were meaning to donate but there it was in bold writing “Bedroom”. Leon began to gingerly pull out items. He was unsure on what to do with all of them, guilt started to creep in as he realised maybe the reason you didn’t want him to do it on your own was because of this box. His brain tried to think about why you would even own all of these items to begin with as he had never seen any of them in the numerous times he has stayed at your apartment. He decided to put them all in the box again and wait for you to return home so you can both finish this room together.

Leon worked on the rest of the house with ease, the bathroom was all set up now with everything neatly organised. He smiled at the sight of your toothbrushes finally together in the little pot you had.  Interior design was never his strong suit so he only prayed he did a good job, going based on what he could remember from your own apartment and what places you had put everything in. He only had to wait for your arrival now, which wouldn’t be long. He turned on the tv and sank into the softness of his couch, he smiled as he glanced around the apartment that now had the essence of his world sprinkled throughout. 

It was the evening when you eventually stormed through the front door with enough anger that it slammed against the opposite wall with a loud bang. The sound startled Leon awake, causing him to shoot up off the sofa to deal with whatever threat had just interrupted his sleep. He cursed when he heard you muttering and your keys being chucked on the table he began to check his phone and saw the multiple missed calls he had from you. To which he presumed you were asking him to pick you up but he didn’t hear them from his accidental nap. Leon sat up waiting for you to make your way through the house in search of him. He hoped that his hard work would calm you down, now that you only had to see the pile of empty boxes by the backdoor waiting to go outside. Instead he was met with your hair a mess like you had run your fingers through it all day in frustration, your cheeks were blotchy like you had cried on the way home to him.  “Baby what's wrong?” He asked, leon wasted no time to stand up and move towards you, pulling you in a comforting embrace. “My fucking boss, I was meant to have time off to help you out with the moving as she forgot. So instead of just fixing the problem she decided to shout at me in front of the whole office and then fix the problem. I then got splashed by a puddle because some dickhead thought it would be funny to drive close to the pavement through the puddle.” you whimpered. 

Leon sighed, he hated your workplace and how little they reward you after all that you do for them. He silently cursed himself for falling asleep as he took in your wet appearance. 

“Hey it's alright love I promise. I did most of it today see” he pointed to the pile of boxes and the shelves. He watched as your eyes began to scan around the room, eagerly waiting for your approval on the progress he made. Instead your shoulders sagged as you looked back at him, it was the same body language he supposed he displayed when he returned from the mission to all the packed boxes. “I’m sorry Leon, I was meant to help you with all of this. I tried to get out of work quickly but there was so much stuff she made me do before I went on vacation and you didn’t answer so I had to walk home. ”

“Shh it's fine, I felt bad I couldn't help you pack anyway. However, there is a box I’m not too sure on what to do with. It was filled with things I’ve never seen before” He said as he took your hand and started to lead you towards the bedroom where the last of the boxes remained. 

Upon entering he felt your body tense as you saw the boxes opened, the sight of all the pink you had collected suddenly made you nervous for the conversation you should have had months ago with him. “Leon…the box is labelled correctly. It’s just I only ever showed you the spare bedroom at my apartment. I was worried you would have found it weird if you saw my actual bedroom which contained all of this” 

“Why would I have found it weird? It’s just pink?” Leon shrugged. You struggled to form the words, the stress of the day was already weighing down on you and now thousands of worries of this situation were just adding to the pile. “It’s comforting, it makes me feel safe, a bit like a child would feel safe surrounded by their stuffed toys” you explained. You were attempting to soften the blow of the kink that you secretly had. You waited to see if he could piece together the situation himself or if you would have to explain it further to him. It took him a minute of staring at the box and into space before he finally understood what you meant. “You want to be protected and cared for?” he asked bluntly, attempting to slowly place feelers to see exactly what you wanted so he could give it to you. “There's a certain headspace I like to enter when I feel safe, I just don’t like to thrust it upon people I guess. I need to know I can trust them, I always forgot to bring it up with you”

 Leon nodded but didn’t say anything, he just continued to look at the box.

Eventually he spoke again, turning to you with a gentle smile as he said, “Why don’t you go and have a bath to relax after work?”  

You nodded, but was still hesitant to leave the room without his confirmation on the situation. His lack of questions was beginning to make you concerned. “Yeah okay” You sighed as you eventually caved and began to strip off your work uniform. Leon didn’t miss the way that you dug through the box to pull out a large fluffy hello kitty towel. Once the bathroom door had shut and he could hear the water running he began his plan for the evening. 

You could hear him shuffling around outside the door, walking back and forth to the living area. You tried to let the lavender bath bomb soak up the worries and stress of today, sinking further into the bubbles like you were going to be able to hide in the mountain of them. Eventually, you begrudgingly left the now cold bathwater, wrapping yourself into the fluffy towel that was your favourite. You walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom where it was now decorated in the vines and fairy lights you had in the box, giving the room the calming feel you craved at the end of each day when you were in your own house. The bed had some of your fluffy blankets and pillows creating a mountain you can just tell would be heavenly to sink into. Your favourite teddies were tucked in the bed ready for you, along with the fluffiest pjs you had neatly folded at the end of the bed. The smell of food encouraged you to get changed quickly and try to investigate what it was. 

You were greeted with the sight of Leon cooking some noodles in the kitchen, the menu music of your favourite dvd playing in the background. Somehow Leon had created the safe space you always wanted.There were even more Fairy Lights that he had put up in the open plan kitchen and living area which enveloped the rest of the apartment in a warm glow. He had blankets piled up on the back of the sofa ready for you to snuggle into along with even more cushions that were placed in the corner. “Are you hungry darling?” Leon gently cooed from where he stood in the kitchen. You nodded shyly, clutching at the bottom of your shirt nervously in the doorway. “Good, it's almost done. Why don’t you go and get comfy in the living room? I’ll be there in a moment with the food” he spoke softly, his smile was kind and warm, his body was relaxed and natural. Your eyes were eager to find any discomfort in this situation. He was ticking all the boxes you needed, whenever he knew it or not. Your feet padded against the hardwood floor as you made your way over to the plush couch, resisting the urge to sink into the fluffy blankets that now decorated it. You heard Leon chuckle as he made his way into the living area holding two bowls of noodles. “Darling that's now how you use the blankets” 

You blinked at him, confused as he placed the bowls on the coffee table in front of you and helped you shuffle deeper into the couch. He then draped a blanket around your shoulders, tucking you into the warmth safely. “That’s better now isn’t it sweetheart?” he prompted as he leant to get the bowls again. You smiled at him, nodding as Leon helped you balance it on a cushion before he pressed play on the film, Spirited Away. “Careful now it’s hot. Wouldn’t want my baby getting burned” he said kissing the crown of your head before tucking into the meal himself. You smiled again, your posture loosened as you slowly sunk into the role you desperately craved. 

Leon found the words coming more natural to him as he visibly watched the tension leave your body. He watched as your eyes light up at your favourite parts of the moving, your body inching closer to his own. He gently took the bowl from your hands before scooping you into his lap so your head can rest on his shoulder as you watched the rest of the movie. “Is this okay?” Leon whispered, his hand drawing idle circles on your thigh under the blanket. You nodded at him, drawing your eyes away from the TV to snuggle into his neck. “It's perfect thank you” you spoke softly.. “My poor baby was so stressed at work. You're always such a good girl for putting up with everyone else's crap” he mumbled into your hair. His hands inching higher up your thigh squeezing the flesh softly. 

You gasped as you felt his fingers tease the fluffy edge of your pj shorts. “You look so good in these. Daddy did a good job picking them out” he spoke with a smirk placed on his lips as he used the word so freely, eager to hear it leave your own lips. Leon felt your breath tremble against his neck, he could feel the tension in his shirt as your fingers gripped it ever so slightly. “What do you think baby? Do you think daddy picked out a good pair?” He prompted. You nodded your head weakly, the use of the word so casually helping you sink into the headspace quickly. “Use your words darling” he said as his hands slipped under the fabric of your shorts, you could feel the slight pressure of his fingertips tease your covered pussy. “They are perfect, Thank you daddy” you mumbled into his neck. Leon felt his cock twitch at your words, finally hearing the simple term leave your lips was now affecting himself.  “Good girl” he purred, his fingers began slipping underneath your underwear, he groaned at the wetness that had now collected there. He began to spread it throughout your folds, his fingers gently teasing the sensitive clit in circular motions. 

You pulled Leon into a kiss, your hands gripped the back of his head and his forearm keeping him close to you. He moaned into your mouth, his tongue slipping in for a battle of dominance which you easily let him win. “My poor baby is so tense from work. Don’t worry daddy is going to help you now” Leon spoke, his voice low as he withdrew his fingers from your entrance. The light causing your arousal to sparkle on them as he brought them to his lips, he began to suck them clean, his eyes closing like he was tasting his first ever gourmet desert. “Mm, you taste so good baby, but this isn’t enough for daddy” he smirked. 

Leon started to slowly remove your pjs, leaving you in only your pink underwear that had a cute bow in the front “What a pretty present you are with your little bow darling” he cooed. He kneeled on the floor in front of you and began to pry your thighs apart leaving them open as a finishing line for his trail of kisses he was leaving down your thighs. He finally removed your underwear leaving your pussy bare to him. “Such hard working girls, get glorious rewards” he mumbled into the soft flesh of your upper thigh. “Please” you begged as you felt his breath cool your aching core. “Say my name when you beg darling..only good girls get their rewards” 

He watched the muscles in your pussy contact at his command, your legs began to loosely fall over his shoulders trapping him in place. “Please daddy” you begged again, your fingers were gripping the soft blanket that had fallen from your shoulders and found its place surrounding your waist. Leon wasted no time as he licked a long stripe up your lips, sucking on your clit as two fingers pushed into your core. He started off slowly, curling the digits rhythmically gathering as much of your arousal as possible. His lips sucked at your clit, his tongue circling the sensitive nub with extreme precision that caused your thighs to clench around his head. You could slowly feel the stress of the day melt away into the couch, soon to be forgotten as Leon helped you pass into what you could only describe as a dreamscape. His fingers began to thrust inside you, slow at first allowing you to slowly trust him to take care of you. “The safe word is Apples Baby okay, I'll stop as soon as you say it” he said pulling away from your clit with a long string of salvia connecting the two of you. You nodded against the sofa cushion as you began whimpering at the loss of contact. Leon stopped curling his finger finally bringing your attention to him with a light slap to the thigh instead “Baby this is important…what's the safe word?” He asked sternly. “Apples..it's apples daddy” you spoke attempting to maintain the heavy eye contact he was giving you to try and show that you understood. 

It must have worked because Leon latches onto you again with a smirk, working with intent to bring you to your first orgasm of the night. Leon thrusted and curled his fingers hitting the right spot with insane accuracy each time. His cock throbbed as your legs tightened around his head forcing him to do nothing but suck on your sweet taste. Your thighs muted your whimpers from him but the way the muscles trembled around his head he could tell that you were close. The thought spurred him on as he added another finger, you groaned loudly at the stretch he was now giving you with three fingers.“Come on baby, cum all over daddy’s face and hand” he mumbled against your pussy, his breath cooling the sensitive nub making you squirm. It didn’t take long for your release to come. Leon groaned, shifting his hips to get some friction himself as he helped you ride it out. 

His eyes met yours once you finally released him from the headlock you had on him with your thighs, a smile was wide on his face. “You did so good for me baby, are you finally relaxed?” he spoke. The film was long forgotten by the both of you as you both tiptoed on the edge of a new beginning in your relationship. His eyes were begging for your input of your approval, once gained he would pour everything he could in supporting you with this new role that you had secretly desired. Also now wanting the same thing, the idea of finally being able to not only protect but have some control over something in his life was greatly appealing to him. 

 “These muscles still seem pretty tense don't they, baby?” he said, kissing the inside of your thighs. You nodded weakly, finally looking down at him again. “Can daddy help me?” you whispered. Leon smiled, it was the approval he needed to keep going. He lifted your legs from his shoulders, his figure towering over you as he now stood between your legs. Your eyes raked over his body, your gaze falling to his erection which stood boldly against the fabric of his sweatpants. “Let's go somewhere more comfortable baby” he spoke softly, leon lifted you effortlessly in his arms and carried you to the bedroom. 

He laid you against the mountain of pink pillows and numerous plushies before  His mouth littered hot kisses across your chest only pausing when he felt your fingers delicately trail along the top of his waistband. Leon met your gaze with a smirk on his lips. “That's not how we ask for things is it now?” he chuckled, moving his hips away from your reach. “Please daddy, can I have your cock now?” you asked, your eyes innocently blinked up at him. Leon groaned at your words he felt himself twitch desperately against his cotton prison as he looked at your doe expression patiently waiting for him. He gently pushed you on the bed before beginning to free himself. His cock slapped against his stomach, pre cum already leaking from the tip which he used as lubricant as he gave himself a few pumps. He watched as your legs automatically opened for him to slot himself in between. You felt his tip prod at your entrance waiting for your consent to continue. With a small nod from you Leon sunk himself into your velvet walls. He started off at a slow pace, kissing you softly as you adjusted to his size. Once he felt you clench him, Leon started to move faster. Your moans caused him to thrust harder as he found himself wanting to draw more of them out of your pretty lips. It didn’t take long for the word before you began to chant daddy as you clutch at his forearms, the intense arousal forming again in your stomach. Leon felt his balls tighten at your chants, the word spurring him to drive himself deeper inside you. Your eyes rolled back and your body went limp in his arms as you came for the second time that night. Your body was sensitive as he kept thrusting through your orgasm trying to chase his own. He watched the tension leave your shoulders as you let him continue to use you like the good girl you are. Your willingness to submit to him caused his hips to sputter and coat your walls. You could feel his cum warming you from the inside causing you to smile at the feeling of being full of the essence of your new daddy. The action solidified the new dynamic between the two of you. 

Leon pulled his softening cock out of you gently, you heard him get off the bed and leave the room to get a wet cloth to help clean up the mess in between your legs. You snuggled your head into the pillows behind you. The comfort of the new environment Leon had created for you drawing you closer to sleep. “You did so good for me baby, was this okay? Is this what you need?” Leon asked, sitting next to you on the bed. He moved the pillows away from your face and began stroking your hair awaiting your response. “It’s perfect thank you” you spoke with a soft smile on your face. Leon’s comforting strokes were grounding you as your mind caught up to the situation. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner” you apologised. Leon laughed, shaking his head at you, “It's okay, I understand. But I'm happy to fill this role for you if you need it” 

“Thank you daddy,” you spoke softly, the term was now becoming the new normal for you both. Leon helped you slip into the comfort of the bedding, before leaving the room briefly to turn off the tv and lights in the other room. When he returned Leon laid in the bed scooping you into his embrace. You laid on his chest whilst he stroked your back, lulling you to sleep with his actions and for the first time you actually slept peacefully in the embrace of your new daddy.

[sugarcoated-lame]

Life’s A Beach | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Single Dad!Bradley x Reader

This is the second installment of my single dad Bradley miniseries | part one | library blog

Summary: A few weeks have passed since meeting Bradley and Caroline, and what better way to spend time with the adorable father-daughter duo again than a day at the beach?

WC: 6K

Warnings: all of my works are 18+ minors DNI, shirtlessbradleyshirtlessbradleyshirtlessbradley, reader wears a bikini but there are no descriptions of body size/shape, mentions of food/eating, mutual pining, like one tiny mention of smut towards the end if you squint, I don’t really think there’s much else this is literally just straight up fluff, dilf Bradley just being the absolute sweetest, this part is much longer than the first bc I already had it written and then couldn’t help myself from adding almost 3k words while editing oops, once again I suck at titles and summaries :)

a/n: the header for this chapter was my first attempt at making a mood board, I hope y’all like it :) I love Dadley Dadshaw™️ and little Caroline so much, I couldn’t stop smiling while writing this chapter of pure fluff! If you enjoy it, please comment/reblog feedback is always appreciated. Thank you for reading! <3

•

•

You’re checking yourself in the mirror for probably the twentieth time when your phone buzzes with a text alerting you that Bradley is outside. You’d spent an embarrassing amount of time this morning trying on countless swimsuits in an attempt to find the perfect one.

It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon and with Bradley having the day off, and Caroline done with school for the weekend, he’d invited you to join them for a day at the beach. Since meeting them at the mall a few weeks ago when you’d helped reunite the father-daughter duo after the little girl had gotten lost, you’d maintained pretty regular communication.

The two of you had been texting almost daily, chatting about your days and getting to know each other a little better, and you were delighted to find out that Bradley did not, in fact, have a wife. He’d send you silly pictures of him and Caroline that never failed to make you smile even after a shitty day, and left you wondering how someone could still be so attractive while making the stupidest faces. 

He told you a bit about his job — as not just a pilot like his daughter had told you when you met, but a fighter pilot, a naval aviator — and you told him about yours. You talked about your respective hobbies, favorite movies and your tastes in music among other things. Anything and everything that had come to mind, really.

Talking to Bradley was always easy. And there was definitely a bit of flirting. Okay, maybe a lot of flirting.

You’d also talk to Caroline too. She and Bradley had FaceTimed you a few times over the weeks and she’d update you all about how she was enjoying preschool so far, telling you that her daddy cried when he dropped her off on her first day — though, Bradley insists that he didn't — and about the new friends she’s made, before always asking when she’d get to see you again. You’d promised her, soon.

You’ve been pretty swamped with work, but you’re excited — if not a little anxious — to see them again. Though you hadn’t gotten another chance to see Bradley in person since that first day at the mall, your crush on him had grown exponentially. He was funny, charming, an amazing father to the sweetest little girl, and not to mention incredibly good looking.

Even through an iPhone camera, Bradley always looked so effortlessly gorgeous, his boyish smile and pretty eyes never failing to give you butterflies. You’d have to actively try not to swoon all the times he’d called you ‘sweetheart’ or said you looked pretty over FaceTime. 

You could tell the mustached man liked you too, if his shameless flirting was anything to go by. He was too charming for his own good and he never seemed to fail to paint a blush on your cheeks. So, you want to make sure you look good when you join him and his daughter at the beach today.

You’d settled on a black bikini, the longline triangle top big enough to cover you up with enough cleavage to still be sexy, and the bottoms a little high waisted, the side strings pulled up high on your hips to accentuate your curves. You’d let your hair fall loose and flowing, and put on a light dusting of makeup.

After receiving Bradley’s text, you quickly throw on a matching black cover-up that ties at the front, your favorite pair of shorts and some flip flops, grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

Bradley’s waiting for you, leaned up against the side of his classic blue Bronco in a white and baby blue floral Hawaiian shirt — which you’ve learned over the last few weeks that he seems to own quite an array of, a pair of dark gray swim trunks that show off his muscular calves, and a pair of aviators shielding his eyes from the early afternoon sun.

His tanned features only seem to glow in the bright light of the sun, and as you watch Bradley’s face light up with a grin when he sees you, sandy curls blowing in the slight breeze, you have to clench your teeth to keep your jaw from dropping. God, he’s gorgeous.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

Bradley pulls you into a hug as soon as you reach him, and you happily wrap your arms around him. Inhaling his delicious scent and relishing in his warmth as you tell him that you’re doing good, before asking how he’s been too.

“I’ve been good, thanks. You look beautiful.” Bradley compliments you with a growing smirk once he releases you. You’re going to have to get used to the blush that seems to permanently reside over your cheeks whenever you are in his presence.

“You look– good too…” You trail off shyly, lips lifting into a sheepish grin as you push back some strands of hair that had blown in your face from the breeze, looking down at your sandal-clad feet. 

Flirting with Bradley was much easier over text. You’re just thankful that his eyes are currently covered by his sunglasses, unsure if you’d be able to handle his deep, honeyed gaze on you right now without your knees buckling.

Bradley chuckles at your shyness, he loves how easily he can make you flush.

“Come on, I know someone is very excited to see you.” He places a gentle hand at the small of your back and leads you to the passenger side of the Bronco, opening the door for you. Your skin tingles with warmth where his hand had touched you as you climb into the passenger seat and Bradley closes the door for you.

Immediately upon entering the truck, you’re met with a high-pitched yell of your name. You turn around to see Caroline, all tucked into her car seat, sandy curls tied up in pigtails, and a tiny pair of aviator sunglasses that match her dad’s over her eyes. She really is Bradley's mini-me and you don’t think she could get any cuter.

“Hey, sweet pea!” She’d told you when you called her that on one of your FaceTime calls that that was her favorite nickname because peas are her favorite vegetable.

“You ready for a beach day?” You inquire happily, to which Caroline replies with a toothy grin and excited squeals of affirmation. She lifts her little aviators up onto the top of her head as she talks excitedly to you, while Bradley chuckles and begins to drive.

The two of you spend the entire drive to the beach chatting animatedly, Bradley chiming in here and there, but mostly just enjoying listening to the way you happily field the kind of questions and roundabout rambling that can only come from a four-year old. 

He swears that his heart is going to explode out of his chest seeing how great you are with his daughter. How much Caroline already seems to love you, and how much you seem to love her too.

*** 

Upon arriving at the beach and finding a spot for the Bronco in the moderately crowded lot, Bradley quickly leaps out of the driver’s side to open your door for you, eliciting a bashful smile and quiet ‘thanks’ from you as he takes your hand in his much larger one to help you down.

When your feet are safely on the ground and he’s closed the door behind you, Bradley makes his way to the back door to help Caroline — who is bouncing her little legs and practically vibrating with excitement – out of her car seat. 

The three of you make your way up to the beach, Bradley carrying a large cooler that he procured from the trunk. And while you try your hardest to not drool over his impressive arms, you hold a large tote that’s filled to the brim with a blanket, towels, Caroline’s countless beach toys, and an umbrella sticking out of the top in one hand, and Caroline’s smaller hand in your free one. 

It’s only a short walk, and the second your feet touch the sand, Caroline’s little hand releases yours as she bounds ahead of you and her father in search of a good spot to set up.

Bradley lets out an exasperated sigh and lifts up his sunglasses, sharp eyes trained ahead to follow his daughter’s bouncing pigtails as she runs along the busy beach. “God, she’s really gotta stop doing that.”

Holding back a giggle — because you know firsthand that Caroline wandering off is a fairly common occurrence — you look up at Bradley with a sympathetic pout.

“Yeah, but if she didn’t do that, you never would’ve met me.” You shrug matter-of-factly, lips tugging up at the corner on their own accord. 

Bradley can’t help but chuckle at that. 

“I guess that’s true,” the playful smirk growing on your face draws a matching one onto his lips. “But, sooner or later, she’s gonna give her old man a heart attack.”

You join him in his laughter as you continue walking toward the empty spot where you see Caroline has stopped, bouncing on her feet and waiting for the two of you with an adorable toothy grin. 

“You’re not that old.” With a playful roll of your eyes, you lightly smack his shoulder.

Once everything is set up – the blanket laid out along the sand and held down at the corners by the heavy cooler and the tote, the large beach umbrella creating a nice bit of shade, and Caroline’s various toys already scattered about — Bradley kicks off his flip flops and reaches up to begin unbuttoning his Hawaiian shirt. Dropping his aviators onto the blanket along with it, leaving him in just his dark gray swim shorts with his torso bare. 

Whoa. You thought he was hot with his clothes on, but you nearly went into shock upon seeing him without them. You knew Bradley was obviously in shape — you could see that even under the Hawaiian shirts and soft looking Navy tees he always wore over Facetime – but you didn’t know he was that muscular.

All golden skin and rippling muscles, broad shoulders and strong arms. Almost ridiculously toned abs and thick thighs leading down to shapely legs, Bradley looked like he was sculpted by the gods. Though he was a father, he certainly did not have a ‘dad bod’. You guessed that his elite naval training must be to thank for that.

In the hopes of distracting yourself — and to stop yourself from frothing at the mouth over Bradley’s physique, you decide to focus on applying the sunscreen that you also found in Bradley’s beach bag. You remove your cover-up and shimmy out of your shorts, already enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun blanketing the newly exposed skin.

Holy shit, Bradley has to stop himself from saying out loud as he catches a view of you in your bikini. 

The way that the black fabric fits your body perfectly, just a hint of your plush breasts visible in the triangle top and the high-cut bottoms with little strings that cinch in at your waist accentuating your curves in all the right places, has Bradley’s heart beating faster and his cheeks heating up with a flush that he knows is not just a product of the bright sun. 

He feels like he might start drooling at any moment as he takes in the sight of your skin – so much skin, and he wants to know if it would feel as soft as it looks, under his fingertips.

He watches in awe as you begin to apply your sunscreen, delicate hands smoothing over planes of skin, and Bradley wishes he could replace them with his own. He needs to stop ogling you before his swim trunks begin to show the evidence of just how much you’re affecting him.

When you’re finished lathering yourself in sunscreen, Bradley’s heart starts clenching in his chest for a whole different reason as you offer to help Caroline apply hers. She accepts your offer without hesitation, head nodding a mile a minute and that big grin that never fails to make Bradley’s heart melt on her sweet little face, and he swears she’s never taken to anyone — not even the Dagger Squad — so quickly.

He gazes on, eyes with wide adoration as you kneel down to meet his daughter’s height, gently – and oh so patiently – rubbing the cream onto the baby-soft skin of her arms and legs as she jumps and squirms around, her golden brown curls bouncing, the impatient four-year old ready to take off like a tornado down the beach. 

Bradley can’t help but admire the sweet smile that overtakes your face and your soft laugh as Caroline scrunches up her adorable little button nose while you apply the sunscreen to her face, and he swears his heart grows three times its size when he hears the giggles bubbling out of his little girl’s mouth as you playfully pinch her nose and let her know that you’re done.

“What do we say, Caroline?” Bradley asks his daughter before she has a chance to run off in her excitement. His tone is slightly stern and his hands are on his hips, though a smirk is tugging at the corner of his lips as he squints against the bright sun to look at his daughter who returns his gaze with a wide-eyed, almost caught-out expression.

“Thank you!” Caroline turns back to you and wraps her arms around your neck in a quick hug that makes your heart melt. 

Before you can hug her back, she races over to her dad and hugs her arms around his hips, her little head resting on his taut belly as she looks up at him with those big, brown puppy dog eyes that rival his own. 

“Can we go in the ocean, Daddy?” 

When Bradley lovingly strokes the crown of her head and grins down at her, you swear you could cry from how adorable the two of them are. “Of course we can, Bug.”

Then, Bradley lifts his little girl off the sand – and she looks so tiny in his arms – and you can’t help but giggle at the two of them as he leans down to blow raspberries on Caroline’s tummy through the fabric of her ruffly lilac bathing suit, high-pitched squeals and shrieking giggles leaving her as she flails in his hold, breathlessly yelling, “Daddy, stop!” while he continues to tickle her.

“Alright, alright. I’m done.” Bradley chuckles, only stopping when one of Caroline’s flailing limbs nearly hits him in the face. He presses a kiss to one of her flushed cheeks, and then the two of them are looking at you with matching grins. 

“You comin’, sweetheart?” The term of endearment makes your heart flutter. You glance between the two of them, holding back a laugh at the four-year old that’s buzzing with excitement in her father’s arms.

“I think I’m just gonna relax here for a bit and soak up some sun, but you two go ahead!” 

Bradley looks down to where you sit on the beach blanket with an appraising look as you smile at the two of them, a hand hovering above your squinting eyes to shield them from the sun, and you could swear you catch his eyes trailing down the line of your body for just a second before returning to yours. “You sure?”

“Yeah, you two go! Enjoy some father-daughter time.” You nod, a pretty smile on your face, and the playful wink you send his daughter has Bradley’s swim trunks feeling the slightest bit tighter again. Yeah, maybe a few minutes apart from you would do him some good.

Little does Bradley know, your reasoning for staying back is similar to his for not arguing with that. You need a moment to yourself to refrain from doing something stupid – like trying to lick his abs or climb him like a tree – if you have to be up close to him and his gorgeous body for one more second.

You relax onto the blanket, your face hidden under the shade of the umbrella as you watch Bradley take off toward the ocean with Caroline still in his arms, the little girl giggling the whole way there. 

You watch on adoringly as Bradley plays with his daughter, chasing her around on the wet sand and scooping her up in his strong arms, spinning her around and dunking her partially into the water. The two of them run through the waves, splashing each other, all smiles and laughs the entire time. 

In just the brief time that you’ve known them, it’s very easy to see that Bradley’s daughter is his whole world.

When they return a while later, Caroline sprints ahead of her dad to reach you on the blanket where you’re already waiting with a smile to hand her her beach towel that has cute little frogs printed all over it. 

Bradley reaches the two of you a few moments later and your arm freezes mid-air as you reach up to hand him a towel as well, too distracted to even ogle over his glistening, wet skin as you notice the red shade that’s beginning to take over the skin of his cheeks and his broad shoulders. 

“Bradley, you’re all red! Did you put on any sunscreen?” You question with a breathy laugh, though Bradley can see the concern in your eyes as he takes the towel from your outstretched hand and begins to dry the water droplets on his tanned skin.

Before he can respond that he had, Caroline chimes in. “Daddy says he burns if he even looks at the sun!” She exclaims through her giggles.

You laugh along with her for a moment before fixing him with that cute, sympathetic pout again that makes Bradley’s heart flutter in his chest.

Before he knows it, you’re reaching into the beach bag for the tube of sunscreen and standing to be closer to his height – though he’s still got quite a few inches on you. 

“Here, let me-” You squeeze some of the sunscreen out onto your fingers, and then your delicate hands are working the cream into the skin of Bradley’s face and his cheeks are, again, warming even more and not because of the sun. 

His skin tingles where your light touch had been, and Bradley thanks whatever gods are out there that Caroline jumps in and insists that you build a sandcastle with her before you get a chance to start working the sunscreen onto his shoulders. He doesn’t know that he could handle you touching him any longer without saying or doing something stupid.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I think I can take it from here.” Bradley’s tone is flirty as he holds a hand out for the tube of sunblock, fingers grazing yours, and his lips turn up in a smirk at the flush developing on your own cheeks as you nod back at him. And he can’t suppress the quiet chuckle at the stumble in your steps as you make your way back over to Caroline to get to work on your sandcastle. 

After applying the sunscreen to his own shoulders, Bradley sits down in the sand to join you and his daughter. 

“Daddy! We’re building the world’s biggest sandcastle!” Caroline exclaims, filling up her bucket with sand. “It’s gonna be bigger than you!”

Bradley lets out a throaty laugh, “Yeah, I’ll bet!” He looks to you and the two of you grin at each other conspiratorially. “Can I help?”

Once the three of you have built – and demolished, a la Caroline jumping straight onto it – the “biggest sandcastle she’s ever seen”, she and Bradley convince you to get in the water with them. 

You all play a game of tag in the shallows, Bradley stopping to lift his daughter out of the water every so often when there was a large wave, before you and Caroline decide to gang up on Bradley to splash him with salty seawater until he’s soaked and looking at the two of you with a pout that you want to kiss right off of his lips. 

Then, Bradley’s pout quickly morphs into a mischief-filled grin, a matching one growing on his daughter’s face as you look between them, the two of them seeming to have a sort of silent conversation. 

“What are you-” Before you can finish asking the question, you let out a yelp as a strong pair of arms wraps around your waist and lifts you into the air, both Bradley and Caroline laughing like hyenas as the four-year old begins splashing you with water, and you can’t help but laugh along with them as you squirm under Bradley’s very strong grip. 

All too soon, Bradley’s arms are releasing you, but he keeps a steadying hand on your waist as he settles you back onto your feet. His whiskey-hued eyes peering into yours and you can only gaze back, left a bit breathless, your skin set alight with butterflies where his large palm had been even when he’s no longer touching you. 

“Daddy, I’m hungry!” Caroline announces, tension in the air dissipating as she jumps up and down between the two of you, tugging on the hem of her dad’s swim trunks. 

You can breathe again as Bradley chuckles at her and finally shifts his gaze away from you, pushing back some of the wet curls that are stuck to her forehead. “Yeah, me too. Lead the way, Bug.”

The three of you make your way back up to your little setup on the beach, the little girl tugging you along with a hand wrapped in yours. 

Bradley produces a few little packs of apple slices and the three sandwiches he’d packed earlier that morning from the cooler, peanut butter and jelly – Caroline’s favorite, as you’ve learned over your many facetime calls with the father-daughter duo and giggled at the four-year old’s jelly-covered face, where you let them know they were one of your favorites too. 

“Bon appetit.” Bradley chuckles, holding out one of the plastic wrapped, diagonally cut sandwiches to you, a slightly sheepish smile coming over his mustached lips. “I know it’s not much, but-” 

You cut him off with a shake of your head before he can finish his statement, and meet him with a sincere grin. “It’s perfect.”

He hands Caroline the one sandwich that has the crusts cut off and a packet of apple slices, and then pulls out an ice cold bottle of water for each of you, and a juicebox for his daughter. 

While Caroline sweetly asks you to put the straw into her juicebox for her, Bradley pulls out one last thing from the cooler that has your heart leaping in your chest when you turn to notice him place something down in front of you. 

A bottle of your favorite iced tea. Something you’d never explicitly mentioned to him, but that Bradley had noticed you always seemed to be drinking on your video calls with them. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet you feel like you could cry at the sweetness of it. 

Bradley’s chest swells with pride as you pin him with a bright smile, eyes full of adoration. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” Bradley sends you a wink that sends your heart into overdrive as he takes a bite out of his sandwich. 

Bradley admires the two of you as he sits and eats his PB&J. His daughter is once again talking at you a mile a minute in that adorable, roundabout way that only little kids do as you follow along enthusiastically with a smile, you gently wiping jelly from Caroline’s face with a wet napkin and making sure that she drinks her water when you notice her cheeks getting a bit flushed.

“Just like her daddy.” He listens to you tell Caroline with a playful shake of your head, and the wink you send in his direction has Bradley swearing internally that he’s going to die, and he can’t help but think that he’d be more than happy to do this all the time. 

After spending a while longer on the beach – you and Bradley sat on the large blanket chatting and watching Caroline play and build her own little castles with her pail and shovel, the three of you jumping in the water one more time, and you hiding your snickers behind your hand while Bradley tries to convince Caroline that it is not a good idea to bury him in the sand – the sun is just beginning to set. 

And though he doesn’t want this day to end, Bradley decides it’s time to head home when he notices his four-year old rubbing her eyes and starting to yawn every couple of minutes.

You help him pack everything up and then the three of you make the trek back to the car, Caroline half asleep on her dad’s broad shoulders, while you walk close by Bradley’s side in a peaceful silence.

Caroline falls asleep almost instantly once Bradley gets her settled into the Bronco in her car seat, and you can’t help but coo at the adorable little girl when you turn back to look at her from the passenger seat. 

The drive back to your apartment is a peaceful one, the sun still setting and bathing everything it touches in its dying golden glow — including Bradley — and you find it hard not to stare at his exquisite side profile as he bops his head along to the classic songs that play quietly from the radio as the two of you chat idly, low enough to not wake up the sleeping little girl in the backseat.

When the Bronco comes to a stop in front of your apartment, the sky has almost fully darkened and neither you or Bradley move for a long few moments, neither one of you really wanting to say goodbye, not quite ready for this perfect day to end yet.

Bradley clears his throat and turns his gaze to you with that boyish, mustached grin that sends butterflies coursing through your system and the smile you meet him with is an easy one. 

“Thank you for coming today,” Bradley’s voice is quiet, raspy and deep and heat pools in your tummy as he continues to speak. “Caroline had a blast. She really likes you.”

His statement has you glancing back at the sleepy four-year old and beaming with adoration when you turn back to reply, “I really like her too. And, I had a great time. Thanks for inviting me.” 

Bradley’s smile turns more playful as he nods his head, his honey brown eyes peering deep into your own as he quietly speaks again. “I really like you too.” 

With the pulsing in your ears from your heart practically beating out of your chest, it takes you a few long seconds to reply and all you can manage to get out is a whispered “Yeah, me too…” 

Your voice trails off and and your smile turns sheepish, gaze tilted down toward your lap to hide the obvious flush you know is blooming on your cheeks.

Bradley’s grin only broadens, eyes full of mirth at your sudden shyness.

“Can I walk you to your door?” His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine and you don’t really trust yours to be steady with him looking at you like that, so you simply nod in response. 

After Bradley checks behind him to see that his daughter is still sleeping soundly in the backseat, he unbuckles his seatbelt and quietly hops out of the Bronco. He quickly makes his way over to the passenger side to open the door for you and help you down from his truck.

With one last look through the window at Caroline, Bradley locks up the Bronco and you begin the short walk to your door. The two of you are trailing along the concrete path slowly, Bradley’s palm hovering at the small of your back to guide you and warming your skin through the thin fabric of your cover-up. 

You hesitate when you reach your front door, leaning your back against the hardwood to face Bradley, still not quite ready to cut your time with him short. 

Peering up at him through your lashes, you thank Bradley before letting him know again, “I really had a great time today.”

“Yeah, me too, sweetheart.” You could swear he’s really trying to kill you every time he uses that nickname. “We should definitely do this again sometime.” 

Your voices are both still quiet, as if to not disturb the peaceful, but intense atmosphere that’s built around the two of you.

“Yes, we should.” You nod your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth as Bradley’s eyes peers into yours, pools of molten honey searching your expression. 

Whatever he’s looking for, he seems to find it. One of his big hands reaches up to cup your cheek, large palm splaying across the smooth skin and long fingers reaching into your hair, and he loves the way you instantly lean into his warm touch. 

Bradley just admires you for a long moment, his heavy gaze trailing down from your pretty eyes to your plush lips, further to where your chest is rapidly rising up and down under your sheer cover-up as your breath quickens, and then back up again to see the look of want in your dilated eyes. 

When he can no longer take the tension that’s been building up between you all day, Bradley takes a step closer, leaving only a few inches between the two of you. He leans down and the hand on your cheek guides your lips up to meet his in a kiss that’s sweet, but firm, and all-consuming. 

Your lips move softly against his, one of your hands lifting up to wrap around the wrist of his hand that still cups your face. His pulse under your fingertips grounding you as you sigh into the kiss, and you think you could get lost in him. 

His lips, gentle and languid as they press against your own, the hairs of his mustache tickling your skin, and the comforting scent of him surrounding you — the spicy cologne that still lingers on his clothes, a hint of sweat mixed with the fresh, beachy scent from a day spent on the sand and sea, and something that’s just Bradley.  

When Bradley deepens the kiss, lips moving more fervently against your own, your resulting whimper has him crowding you against the door, no longer an inch of space left between your bodies as his broad chest presses against yours, his free hand coming to grip at your waist.  

Bradley’s tongue trails the seam of your lips, begging for entrance that you grant him without resistance, swallowing his deep groan as your free hand reaches up to his hair. Your fingers tangle into the strands, his waves extra defined from the salty sea water, fluffy from the beach and now, you. 

As your tongue glides along with his, Bradley’s strong hands now both squeeze at your waist, trailing down your sides until they reach the backs of your thighs. He effortlessly lifts you into his strong arms, never breaking the kiss, and your legs wrap around his waist as the weight of his body presses you harder into your front door. 

Things continue on like this — for minutes or hours, you’re not quite sure as you completely lose yourself in the feeling of Bradley’s kiss — only getting deeper, hungrier, more frenzied. Your lips never parting from Bradley’s despite the burning that’s beginning to grow in your lungs, thighs clenching around his hips in search of even a hint of friction to curb the arousal that’s building in your core.  

Bradley finally pulls away when the lack of oxygen gets to be too much. Your lips chase his, the little whimper you send him when his mouth is no longer on yours, going straight to his cock that’s pressed against your hip, straining against his already-tight swim trunks, and his head is spinning from the way your lips trail down to press gentle kisses to his jaw. 

He wishes he could take you inside your apartment — to your bed, and he would have, but it’s then that he remembers his four year-old daughter is asleep in the backseat of his car. 

Bradley’s forehead presses against your own and he breathes in deep before exhaling a deep sigh to steady himself. After pressing one last peck to your lips, he sets your feet back down on the ground. He takes a step back to look at you, hands hesitating to leave your waist as he doesn’t want to stop touching you yet.

Your expression is dazed, lips are swollen and eyes blown wide, your heaving chest matching his own as you take the oxygen back into your lungs, and Bradley can’t help but pull you in one last time with a hand on the back of your neck to kiss you breathless — again.

When he pulls away this time, Bradley hardly gives himself a moment to catch his breath before he pants out, “Can I please take you on a date?”

You nod your head near-frantically and you laugh just as breathlessly. “I was starting to think you’d never ask.”

Bradley chuckles, gazing down at you in adoration, his thumb that reaches up to caress your cheek and his next words draw a blush to your cheeks. 

“Believe me, I’ve wanted to for weeks. Since the first day that we met you.”

You turn your head to press a sweet kiss to Bradley’s thumb. 

“You could have. I definitely would’ve said yes.” You reply with a bashful smile.

“Yeah, I’m a bit off my game. I haven’t really done this in a while if I’m being honest.” Bradley admits a little sheepishly and you nod along, encouraging him to continue. 

“I haven’t dated much since Caroline. She’s kinda become my whole world.” He scratches the back of his neck, feeling a bit awkward and hoping you don’t think that’s pathetic.

You take his hand in yours and smile at Bradley, eyes shining bright in what can only be described as admiration. 

“You’re an amazing father, Bradley. You're so dedicated to Caroline and that’s one of the things I love most about you.”

You give his hand a gentle squeeze as you gaze up at him, leaning up on your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his sun-reddened cheek. “And I definitely want to go out with you.”

“Thank god.” The pair of you let out relieved laughs at his words. Bradley’s hands reach out for your waist once again. “Come here.”

Bradley leaves you with one more passionate kiss that ends way too quickly for either of your liking and a ‘Goodnight, sweetheart’ that paints a blush on your cheeks.

After making sure that you’re safely inside your apartment, Bradley strides back to the Bronco, unable to wipe the grin from his lips. With a glance in the rearview mirror at his baby girl still sound asleep in her car seat, he begins the short journey back to their home, a goofy smile on his face for the entirety of the drive as he thinks about how he’s going to take you on the perfect date.

•

•

•

Thank you for reading! x

Don't forget to comment/reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated! I've got one more part planned for this little series, it's not written yet but I hope to get it out to you guys soon <3

tag list: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @kmc1989 @avengersfan25 @fictionalmenloversblog @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @praline357 @girlsclub2004 @misshoneypaper @diorrfairy

also tagging some people who reblogged/commented on part one: @bitter-post-millennial @rhettabbotts @hangmanssunnies @milestomaverick @becks-things @indynerdgirl @perfectprettypisces @annathesillyfriend @southpawbitch @colourfulsuitwonderland @wildxwidow @roger-that-cap @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @valhallaas @mayari-tala @teacupsandtopgun @dorothychxca @fangirlvoice @jjenjoysthings @kmc1989 @rosiahills22 @je-suis-prest-rachel

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 16, Unaccompanied - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 881

Previously On...: You were juuuuust about to leave for your first mission with Bucky, but have been felled by a nasty stomach bug, leaving Bucky to go off on the mission alone :(

A/N: Fuck it! I'm in a generous mood!

Dun, dun, DUN! NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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You woke up a few hours later. You felt a bit better, but an all encompassing fatigue still settled over your body. You stretched and grabbed your phone to check the time. Glancing at your phone’s screen, you saw you had multiple missed calls from Bucky, and text messages asking you to call him back as soon as you could.

Concerned, you hit the button to dial him back. He picked up immediately.

“Baby,” he breathed, sounding relieved. “I am so sorry, I have no idea how this happened, but I swear, I had nothing to do with it. I was fully prepared to go by myself, but—”

“Bucky,” you interrupted, “what are you talking about?”

“Fucking Carthage,” he seethed, and you could feel his anger through the phone. “She’s on the Quinjet with me. I told Steve I was fine going alone, but I set the autopilot for takeoff and she was just there. I’m so sorry, sweets. I know you got no reason to believe me, but I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. She’s the last person I want to be trapped in this bird with, let alone on a mission with. I locked myself in the fucking cockpit just to keep her the hell away from me.”

Your stomach dropped, but you could hear the anxiety and rage in his voice, and maybe you were stupid, but you truly believed this had taken him by as much surprise as it had taken you. “It’s okay, baby,” you told him after you’d taken a breath, not realizing you’d let the endearment slip through. “I believe you; it’s not your fault.”

“I promised you I’d cut her out,” he bemoaned. “This makes me a fucking piece of shit all over again, and I hate it. I hate what it must be doing to you right now. I’m so sorry.”

You were feeling nauseous again, though from your stomach bug or the current situation, you weren’t quite sure. “You can’t help this, Buck. It’s beyond your control, I get that. I really do. I know I can’t expect you to ignore her while you’re on a mission together. You don’t have to worry about breaking your promise to me right now, okay? It’s extenuating circumstances.”

“I’ll only talk to her about mission-related shit,” he promised. “I’ll ignore everything else, I swear.”

“Yeah,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, that’s good. We can work with that, Buck. It’s okay; we can get through this.

“I’m so sorry, Pocket.” Bucky’s voice was mournful. “It’s another promise I made to you that I’m not keeping. 

You talked to him for a while longer, reassuring him you didn’t blame him for the current state of affairs, and that you weren’t going to hold any contact he needed to have with her against him. Occasionally, you could hear Jade pounding on the cockpit door, and Bucky would shout that, if it wasn’t about the mission, he didn’t want to hear it. 

After about an hour and a half, Bucky swore softly. “I’m sorry, sweets– looks like we’re heading into a storm. I’m gonna have to take the jet off autopilot and fly her manual til we’re through it.”

“Yeah, of course, Buck,” you said, knowing he was telling you he had to hang up. “Text me when you land, okay?”

“‘Course, doll,” he said, and you could hear him smile into the phone. “I’ll be doin’ everything in my power to get this mission over as soon as possible.”

“Just come home to me safe and sound, Barnes,” you told him. “That’s the important thing.” 

“Always,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Hey, Buck?” you asked, before he had a chance to hang up. “I love you, okay? So much.” You still did, despite everything, and you wanted him to know it.

“I don’t deserve you, sweetheart,” he said, “but I love you, too. More than anything.”

You said your goodbyes and were left in the quiet of your room. You needed to have a conversation with Tony, but before you set out to find him, you had one burning question you needed answered.

“Hey FRIDAY?” you called.

“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” came the disembodied Irish voice.

“Why didn’t you alert me when Sergeant Barnes and Ms. Carthage interacted aboard the Quinjet?” you asked.

“You asked for all interactions within the Tower,” FRIDAY replied. “The Quinjet does not technically meet the parameters of your request and thus was not included.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course the AI would get caught up in semantics. “Okay, fine. Adjust the parameters of the request to include any and all interactions occurring between the two on the Quinjet, as well,” you requested. 

The AI agreed, and you let out a sigh. You felt terrible about essentially spying on Bucky, but the truth was, you still didn’t fully trust him again. You wanted to, more than anything, but you just couldn’t. You hated what you had become, what the situation, his actions, had turned you into. If you were the kind of girl who believed in a higher power, you’d be praying to any deity who would listen that this mission would be over before your anxiety got the best of you.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '23: Bondage | Boo Seungkwan

Pairing: Camboy!Boo Seungkwan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), roommates to lovers, Camboy AU

Summary: Seungkwan is a camboy and after months of trying, he invites you, his best friend, to help him spice up one of his streams

WC: 5.8k

Warnings: Pet names (pretty girl, pretty, baby), fingering, unprotected sex (be smart), light bondage, some voyeurism and exhibitionism aspects, prominent sub space, spanking, multiple orgasms (fem receiving), Seungkwan is such a soft dom in this but he doesn't take any shit

A/N: Yall I know it's been a long time but I refuse to give up and honestly?? I kinda ate with this one. If you like it, please check out my commission and donation links, drop a comment or a reblog, it would be appreciated!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

Living with Seungkwan was nice. He had friends over sometimes, and they could get a little loud sometimes, but they were always polite towards you, and they really did try not to cause problems for you. Seungkwan himself was a good friend, someone you knew you could rely on to handle the grocery trips when you were busy, or to keep the dishes done up. He was a shoulder you could lean on, which might have something to do with the two of you meeting during what was, objectively speaking, your worst year of college.

Maybe the best thing about Seungkwan was that no matter how much he would tease you, he never judged your decisions, and you never judged his. It was easy for the two of you to mind your own business. So it was a bit of a surprise when he came bursting into your room after a couple sharp knocks. He didn’t wait for an answer, and you were grateful that you were actually wearing pants this time.

“Hey, quick question. Are you busy tomorrow night?” He asked. You looked up at where he was standing just inside your doorway.

“Hello to you too, Kwannie,” You said, sitting up in bed and stretching your arms over your head. You didn’t catch the way his eyes flicked down to the sliver of your stomach that exposed itself. “You should really learn to knock. I could have been busy. Or, like, changing or something.”

“Y/N,” He whined, jutting out his bottom lip into a dramatic pout. You whined back before huffing.

“Relax, relax. I’m sorry. No, I’m not doing anything tomorrow night. Why?”

He moved to flop onto the end of your bed.

“Okay, so you know how I do streams, right?” He asked. You nodded, remembering how awkward the conversation had been when he’d explained it, how nervous he was to tell you that he had a side hustle as a camboy. You, however, hadn’t thought anything much about it, which you could tell helped ease his mind. It never mattered to you what he did in his free time, especially when his pocket money bought you little treats from everywhere he went. Besides, anyone as hot as Seungkwan would be a fool not to profit off of their looks in one way or another.

“Mhm,” You hardly looked up from your phone, just enough to urge him to continue talking.

“So…I had an idea for how to change it up this week but I need help.” He said. That had you putting your phone down. What exactly was he asking of you?

“Look, if we’re going to a sex store, you’re paying.” You said. You watched a faded pink crawl up his neck, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I wasn’t gonna suggest that. I think I have everything I need for now. It’s just a weird request, so you can’t freak out on me. I’m warning you!”

“Consider me warned,” You motioned for him to carry on.

“Would you want to join me for the stream? Like…let me touch you or whatever?”

You lost any semblance of coherent thoughts at his question. Sure, you knew that Seungkwan masturbated for strangers on the internet, and you knew he’d offhandedly mentioned how people would be interested in seeing him with a partner, but you knew he’d never wanted to share something like that with anyone he didn’t trust inside and out. More than freaking you out, the invitation flattered you (and maybe sparked a heat low in your stomach). He trusted you enough to invite you into his most vulnerable space.

Unfortunately, your silence on the matter did nothing but make him nervous.

“You can just say no, I’m not gonna be mad.” He said, moving to get up. You frowned, reaching to catch his hand and stop him before he got too far.

“I wasn’t gonna say no. I was just thinking is all.” You said with a shrug. “I know you wanna make your undying fans happy, but I don’t want you to bring me into this unless it’s something you’re absolutely sure about.”

Your sincerity seemed to catch him off guard, but he shook it quickly except for the curling warmth rising in his chest.

‘I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t sure. I’ve been meaning to ask you for a couple months. Didn’t know how to without making it…weird.”

“It’s us, Kwan, aren’t things always weird?” You teased him. You watched the way the tension washed out of him, the way his shoulders relaxed, and you found yourself relaxing with him.

A little over twenty-four hours had passed when you found yourself stepping into Seungkwan’s bedroom. It was odd, and the nerves were beginning to settle in your stomach. It’s not like you were some fresh and pure virgin, and if there was anyone that you trusted to fuck you on camera in front of dozens - if not hundreds - of people, it was Seungkwan. But now you were about to have your entire body on display, about to hand over the reins and let him do as he saw fit for the people watching him. The people watching you.

“You can make yourself comfortable,” He said, motioning towards his bed. You’d been inside his room plenty of times, and maybe you’d taken a peek at his streams once or twice, just to see what exactly it was he did, but this felt different. You knew what this room looked like from almost every angle, but seeing it like this in person and not through the tiny screen of your phone was new. The purple LED lights set the mood, washing his room in a cool glow that made the entire place feel like it was moving in slow motion.

You perched on the end of his bed, watching the ease with which he moved around, the confidence in his stride. It wasn’t unfamiliar, this version of him where he took up space and commanded a room, but the context added something in it that sent ripples through the pool of arousal settling into your stomach. He sat in his desk chair, adjusting his set up and bobbing his head to the quiet music that he had playing in the background. You admired the way that the dim lighting washed over him, casting shadows against his already stunning features and making him that much harder to look away from.

“Did you hear me?” He asked. You blinked the lust out of your eyes and gave him an apologetic smile instead of an answer. “If you’re nervous you can say so. We don’t have to do this.”

He could see through you without even trying. Damn him and his observant nature.

“I’m fine, seriously. I want to do this with you. New experiences or whatever, right?” You rolled your neck in a slow circle, letting your shoulders lift up and drop back, stretching the nerves out of your muscles and forcing yourself to relax. This wasn’t you, you weren’t generally so uptight. “What was it you were saying?”

“The set up over here will have the stream on it. If you’re worried about what people will see, you can check it on this one.” He nodded towards one of the screens in question, then pointed to the next one. “That one will have the chat on it.”

You nodded along, listening to him explain the set up and showing you what the viewers would see, it was exactly what you’d expected it to be, nothing too intimidating. Still, you were grateful for his explanations and reassurance.

“And you’re just gonna…fuck me?” You asked, not entirely sure what to expect. You’d discussed your limits, established a safeword for if you needed out. You’d talked about what you were into, what you’d never tried before, going to extents that made you squirm. By this point, you were pretty sure that Seungkwan knew your sexual preferences better than any partner you’d ever had in the past.

Seungkwan laughed, and the sound seemed into your bones, washing away the last of your worries. That was your Seungkwan, you were safe in his hands.

“Not right away. Gonna talk to the chat, touch you, get everyone all worked up. You don’t have to say anything, just follow my lead. Listen to my voice. Let me make you feel good. The teasing is half the fun, it’s the part they always like the most.”

He was speaking so casually, but the certainty in his voice was doing something to you. You nodded, trying to picture how things were going to happen. Where would he touch you? Would he be able to find all the places that made you squirm or would he be too preoccupied with his chit-chat?

“Then I’ll do what we talked about. Play with you, make sure you feel good. It really is about you this time around.”

This time around. It implied he’d bring you back, put on another show with you, maybe a bit more selfishly. One that was about him next time. You remembered how he’d explained that his fans wanted to see how he’d take care of a partner, presumably to imagine it was them. That was fine by you, and if you held a little piece of something special with Seungkwan, well, that was nobody’s business but your own.

He went through the process of getting the stream ready, and you say quietly, watching him slip into his element. It reminded you of when he’d host get-togethers for your friends, how careful he was to make sure that everything was perfect so nobody had to worry about a thing. You wondered if he’d do the same thing when he was playing with you.

“Camera on in one minute.” He said, moving so he was propped against his pillows, guiding you to sit between his legs. You did as he said, pressing your back to his front and leaning your head back into his shoulder, nervous eyes trained on the screen where the two of you were sitting. It gave a perfect view of the two of you, his arms wrapped around you, hands settling against your lower stomach, and his fingers tracing against the waistband of your pants.

The viewers started rolling in just after the stream started, dedicated viewers who expected him just like clockwork. They greeted him with nothing but adoration and excitement, and Seungkwan greeted them back, calling some of them by name and thanking them for their tips on the last steam, insisting that he’d put on a good show again, that he’d work hard to meet their standards.

You really weren’t paying too much attention to what he was saying, just listening to that smooth cadence of his voice and feeling the way his hands brushed down over your exposed thighs, thumbs tracing the line of the shorts you’d put on for this. His hands were warm and smooth, kneading at the flesh of your thighs and dragging his dull nails against the insides of them. You wondered if he noticed the way your body was melting into him with each pass of his palms against your skin.

After several minutes of focusing on nothing but the heat thrumming in your stomach, you found yourself fighting the urge to wiggle, and then he was riding his hands higher, stroking up your sies and pushing your shirt out of the way so that he could slip underneath, caressing your sids, along your stomach, swirling shapes that blended in with the dips of his voice as he spoke to the camera.

You’d very nearly forgotten the viewers, so focused in on the way that Seungkwan was familiarizing himself with your body. Nobody had ever taken this much time to touch you without even taking off your shirt. You had a fleeting thought that maybe you’d have to worry about that eventually, about him being able to take you apart and put you back together better than anyone else you knew. That thought, however, slipped through your fingers when his hands moved up to cup your breasts over your bra. The touch made your back arch involuntarily, chasing more pressure, more skin on skin contact, more anything because that simply wasn’t cutting it.

He laughed, voice swirling in your head and fogging it up enough that you didn’t even have time to be insecure when he pulled your shirt off and cast it aside. You opened your eyes, the glaring image of the two of you catching your attention, and the red light staring back at your nearly bare torso. You chewed on your lip, and Seungkwan dipped closer so that the mic wouldn’t pick up his voice.

“Are you okay?” He asked. You nodded slowly, and his lips ghosted over the weak spot just below your ear. Your breath hitched when he flicked his tongue over it, waiting until your muscles gave out on you to suckle on it, drawing the tiniest whine from you. Then he huffed out a chuckle against the shell of your ear. “Good. I’m not done with you yet.”

His voice was dark, heady, and you were spinning in the abyss of it. The room felt like it was tilting at an odd angle, your stomach flip flopping and your body being held up only by the arm he had wrapped around you again, keeping you steady against him while he teased the curve of your cleavage above your bra.

“Yeah, she’s never been on camera before,” He said, voice no longer aimed towards you, but back at the audience that was becoming more and more antsy to have his attention back. You remembered then that people were watching you, watching the way that the slightest touch from him had you pressing your thighs together for a sliver of friction. “I know, she’s so pretty, isn’t she?”

A warmth crept into your cheeks at the easy praise, words spilling out as if you weren’t even there. It shouldn’t have turned you on the way that it did, but you couldn’t deny the wetness dampening your panties as his fingers dipped under the cups of your bra, tugging them down slowly enough for you to stop him if you wanted. You didn’t want to. So he pulled the fabric down under your breasts and let his hands idly knead at them. He wasn’t chasing your pleasure the way that you were, just taking his time touching you as his eyes scanned the chat screen. The praise, the requests for him to strip with you, the ones asking to see more of you.

You didn't notice it in your state, so focused on his touch that you weren’t even looking at him on the screen, but a sort of heated jealousy flickered across his face. He didn’t mind sharing you with his audience, that’s what had gotten you into his bed in the first place, but he didn’t like the idea of letting them take over, letting them make you feel good instead while he just followed their orders.

His fingers got harsher, brushing against your nipples before pinching them between his fingertips and rolling them. You whined, back arching to ease some of the sharp pain, and he bit back a devastated sound at how pretty you sounded. For him.

His eyes returned to the screen, reading the comments as they rushed by, thanking people for the tips rolling in as he continued to pinch and tweak your sensitive buds. He tugged and twisted, flicked at them until you were nearly panting, legs desperately pressing together as if that would make you less of a worked up mess.

“Stay still,” He mumbled sharply, easing up on his torment and instead kneading your breasts in large, warm palms as if to soothe the sting of arousal that he’d caused.

He continued like that, hands suddenly gentle and much more patient than you could stand. You whimpered after a few moments of his attention straying front ou, your hand finding his wrist and guiding it with feather light touches towards the waistband of your shorts. He laughed.

“Need something, baby?” He asked. The name was new, and it only sent your mind spiraling further into depraved desperation.

“Need you. Please?” You said, and it was quiet enough that you weren’t even sure if it could be heard through the stream. The only reassurance that your begging was noticed was the influx of pinging as more and more money rolled in.

“Need me? Im right here, pretty girl. What could you need?” He taunted, and you huffed.

“Need you to touch me. Wanna cum,” You said, the world around you fading out completely as you gave him exactly what he was looking for. He seemed satisfied, nudging you to sit up straighter so that he could pull his shirt off and discard it. Then he was pulling you back, pressing your bare skin to his, radiating warmth that had you melting, your skin burning with want, and need, and pure molten lava at that point.

Once you were settled back, he pushed your shorts out of his way, guiding them down your soft thighs so you could kick them off, leaving you just in the flimsiest, cutest pair of panties that you owned. The scrap of fabric barely covered you to begin with, and it was nearly transparent with your wetness, stuck to your folds. Seungkwan reached down, hooking your legs over his so he could hold you open for everyone to see, his fingers tracing your exposed thighs and leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

You tried not to fold the moment you got his attention, you really did, but it was easier said than down when his touch skirted along the edge of your panties, so horribly close to your pussy that it made your hips back and your voice come out as a trembling whimper.

“Can you guys see how wet she is?” He asked, his voice dripping pure charm that only served to make your hold leak a little more. Then his fingers were pressing your panties against you, dragging them against your slicked clit in slow, torturous circles. You nearly sobbed, eyes opening to look up at him. The face that he looked breathtaking even from this angle was cruel, downright killer.

“She’s soaked already. You know, I knew she’d like being watched but I think she likes it almost as much as I do,” He laughed, and you huffed in protest, but he didn’t stop his touch regardless. “How many times do you think we can make her cum? Two? Three?”

You couldn’t bite your tongue this time, a scoff slipping out as your frustration built enough to sting between your thighs.

“Haven’t even proved you could make me cum once. How could they know how many times? Maybe one of them should just fuck me instead. Bet they’d be nice to me.” You snapped. You realized your mistake the moment you spoke. Seungkwan’s fingers stilled, his other hand coming up to grasp at your waist, tugging you hard enough that you couldn’t even consider not giving in. He guided you to flip over, settling you over his lap.

“Is that how you talk to me?” He asked, tugging your panties down to expose the curve of your ass to the cool air of his room. You shook your head harshly, trying to mumble out apologies, but only managing a series of pouty whines and please that he didn’t seem interested in listening to. “I didn’t fucking think so. I know you have manners, let’s make sure you use them next time.”

His hand came down, harsh and stinging against one side of your ass, your hips jolting and scrambling to escape the pain. He pulled them back into place, kneading your ass cheek beneath his palm.

“What do you say?” He asked. You buried your face in your arm, turning just enough to peek at him out of the corner of your eye.

“I’m sorry, baby, please,” You whimpered. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Oh, you promise?” He taunted. You didn’t have a chance to answer before he was spanking you again. This time it was less hard, but followed by two more just as quickly. You yelped, kicking your feet up helplessly to try and protect your backside. He just pushed them down, taking a moment to rub at the abused flesh before giving you one more. You sniffled, though there weren’t any tears, just a pathetic thrum of humiliation and arousal washing over you.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, nuzzling into his thigh and leaving a soft kiss there as if it would take away from your misbehavior.

“Thank you pretty girl. Did so well for me.” He praised, tipping your head up and leaning down to kiss you. The feeling took you by surprise, the softness of his lips against yours wasn’t something that had gone unimagined, but it was better in real life, and so vastly opposite his harsh discipline from moments before. Nevertheless, it was chaste, and his eyes were still dark when he pulled away.

“I think you deserve a reward for being so good. Used your manners and everything.” He brushed his fingers down the curve of your jaw, gentle and adoring, then his eyes flicked up towards the camera. “What do you think? Is it time for a reward?”

His voice was sweet, and you wiggled your hips, half hoping that it would sway the viewers to your side and coax him into making you cum. Your pussy was throbbing with the need to be touched, to be spread open and stretched out, and the feeling was beginning to become uncomfortable.

He hummed, not speaking as he read the comments, just carefully focusing on the scroll of words that you weren’t in the headspace to make out. Then he was knocking your thighs apart, keeping you laid out there over his lap, and sliding his fingers down to your needy cunt. He spread your wetness along your lower lips, coating his skin in it before stopping to flick them harshly along your clit, back and forth at such a pace that you wanted to close your thighs. The only thing keeping them open was his forearm laid against one of them and the awkward position that he had you laid in.

You bit back a desperate whine as your orgasm crashed into you surprisingly fast, your body writhing in his lap as he continued to work you through it, rubbing fast circles against your clit and leaving your walls to clench and flutter, unsatisfyingly empty. The orgasm did nothing but make you more desperate for him.

“Please,” You whined as you came down from it, need burning hot and heavy in your lower stomach. He smiled, using his clean hand to stroke your hair away from your face. “Wanna feel you inside,”

He groaned, although it was nearly closer to a whine, wordlessly complaining about your impatience, and the effect it was having on him, and how it was no doubt ruining his carefully thought out plans for the stream. He pouted, bottom lip jutting out at the camera as he read the influx of comments.

“Aish,” He hissed under his breath. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

You processed that he was talking to his viewers as he maneuvered you off of his lap so he could stand up. The bulge in his pants was obvious, the outline of his cock showing against the soft fabric. He didn’t do anything about it though, pulling you carefully to sit up instead, your back turned to the camera and you perched up on your knees. He pulled a spool of dark blue rope from his bedside drawer, moving your arms behind your back and carefully wrapping your wrists, trying your forearms together and giving them a tug. You hummed out a sound at the feeling, the slightest strain tugging in your shoulders and the rope rubbing against your arms leaving you with even more lava rushing through your veins.

He tipped your head up, making you look at him and silently questioning if you were comfortable enough. You nodded ever so slightly, looking up at your roommate with the widest lust blown eyes as if that would make him speed this whole ordeal up. You knew better though, knew he wouldn’t go easy on you. Especially not when you had an entire crowd to entertain.

“Needy little whore. Cute,” He hummed, pulling you around so that your back was facing him, your profiles to the camera. He pulled you back by your upper arm, catching you steadily against his chest when your balance gave way to his force. He reached around you, turning your chin up to catch your lips in a fast, messy kiss. It was all tongue, and saliva, and the taste of him as he practically devoured your mouth.

His hands roamed down your front, tracing your curves, down your stomach, before finally finding their way to your dripping core. He pulled your legs open wider, not caring about the little whimper that you let out in response to losing your balance again. After all, he had no intentions of letting you fall, and maybe you had a habit of forgetting how strong he was until he was keeping you upright with a single arm around you.

Two of his fingers slid through your folds, spreading them open for a third to tease against your hungry hole, sliding in slowly before sliding right back out and continuing to tease you. You were too breathless to complain, his lips leaving yours and dripping wet kisses down your neck and shoulder, then back up again, nipping at your earlobe before sucking what you were sure would be a very bold mark at the crook of your neck.

Then two of his fingers were filling you up, and your body threatened to fall forward, your legs trying to snap shut around his hand but in no position to do so. So instead he continued working you open, fingers fucking into you with the lewdest sound, pushing your wetness out and letting it run down his hand as he worked you open for him. You could feel his impatience in the way that he worked a third finger inside along with the first two, the sting earning a broken moan from you. It didn’t last, turning into a burning need for more, more, more. That’s all you could think about, greedy little whore. Just for him.

It took you a considerable moment to realize that he was the one whispering those words to you as he stuffed you full of his fingers, your mind getting lost somewhere along the way and focusing entirely on the sound of his voice, and the feeling of his bare chest pressed to your back, and your arms trapped between the two of you, and the beads of sweat slipping down your collarbone. You swore you could feel everything all at once and process none of it at all.

When he pulled his fingers out of you, you let out what could only be called a sob of devastation, and he laughed, easing you down so your weight was resting on your front, balanced carefully on your shoulder with your cheek pressed into the bed. You looked over at him as best as you could, watching him shuck off his pants and underwear so the both of you were completely naked. You could only just see the way his hand wrapped around his cock, fingers smearing your slick arousal onto his length as he tugged it slowly. He looked so pretty, the softly sculpted muscles of his stomach tensing, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he tried to get himself impossibly harder. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel his eyes fixated on the clenching of your pussy, the way you were leaking all over your thighs for him.

“Baby, please fuck me. Been waiting for so long, just…please.” You huffed, wiggling your hips back towards him, and you caught a momentary glimpse of his eyes clouding over as he watched you. His free hand came to knead one of your ass cheeks, spreading you open and taking in the way your hole was begging for him. He cursed under his breath, muttering something to the camera that you didn’t hear – and, quite frankly, didn’t give a shit about.

“Alright, pretty, just hold tight.”

Seungkwan guided his cock to tap against your folds a few times, then pressing into you slowly, inch by agonizing inch. He wasn’t terribly long, but he was thick enough that it brought the sting of tears as he filled you up. Your hands grasped at the air, not entirely able to grab anything but each other, which you did. Your back ached, burying your face deeper into his bedding to try and muffle the fucked out cry that left your lips as his cock dragged the length of your g-spot. Your stomach flipped and tightened as his hips stilled, pressed harshly against your ass. His hands were gripping your hips like a lifeline, surely leaving bruises in the shape of his fingertips, pulling you back into him so he could hit just a little deeper inside of you.

You weren’t given an opportunity to find words before he was puling out of you and sliding home again, harder this time, a little faster, until his pace was set and his hips were meeting yours hard enough that you just knew your ass was turning pink. The only sounds in the room were the slick slide of his cock inside of you, the skin on skin of his hips meeting your backside, and the downright shattered moans that you were letting out with each of his thrusts, the sound stunted and jumpy as he fucked you dumb.

Seungkwan grabbed your bound arms, pulling you up onto your knees and using your shoulder as leverage to drag you back into him. Your entire body shuddered at the new angle, head dropping forward and mouth hanging open as drool pooled at the corner of your lips. Somehow, despite knowing what it was he did, it had never occurred to you that maybe Seungkwan was an absolute sex god.

The hand on your shoulder slipped around, fingers splaying prettily against your throat, not choking you but simply letting you know that he was there, that he could, and you groaned a string of curses as you lost all sense of space and time. The only thing that existed was him, his body, the way it was connecting with yours. Just the two of you and the breathless grunts that he let out against your neck.

“Gonna cum,” You warned him, your fingers managing to drag against his stomach as he fucked into you, and the next thing you knew your vision was bursting with white, and Seungkwan was growling as you came around him, squeezing him so tight that he could hardly even fuck you through it.

Your ears were ringing, and it felt a little like you were on a boat when he laid you down on your front again, pulling out to shoot his load onto the insides of your thighs, marking your skin with his seed and stroking himself through it. He was panting then, the first thing that you could process, and you listened to that sound alone, ignoring the slightly off putting feeling of his cum running down your legs. You just nuzzled deeper into his blankets, finally processing that he’d laid you down.

You faintly heard him say his goodbyes, thanking everyone for their gifts and promising to bring you back again soon if you were interested. It registered slowly that you’d been streaming with him that entire time, that you’d experienced the most earth shattering orgasm of your life in front of who knows how many people. But it didn’t matter, you couldn’t care. Not when he sat down beside you, the camera off, and reached down to stroke your hair away from your sweat-dampened face. You blinked up at him, a sleepy smile curling onto your face.

“How do you feel, pretty thing?” He asked, carefully freeing your arms and rolling you to lay on his back. He took his time to massage each arm from wrist to shoulder and back again, making sure that your circulation was okay, mostly since he was pretty well convinced that you wouldn’t have noticed it if you lost feeling in them completely.

“Good. Really good,” You told him, eyes heavy again, so you gave in and closed them.

“Good, I’m glad. You did so well, let me take such good care of you. But you gotta stay with me while I get you cleaned up, okay? You can do that right? Just stay with Kwannie,”

You hummed, your heart skipping in your chest. Kwannie, your Kwannie. You curled closer to him, cheek pressed against his still bare thigh, and he chuckled, reaching down to brush your cheek.

“Can you stay here while I go get a towel to clean you up? Then you can nap and we’ll shower later.”

You nodded thoughtlessly, and he took that as his sign to get up. When he did, however, you reached out to grab his wrist, and he turned as fast as humanly possible to look at you, eyes clouded over with worry.

“Are you gonna nap with me?” You asked, voice so tiny and heavy with sleep that he swore his heart might melt.

“Yeah pretty, I’ll sleep too. Just let me clean us up, okay?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your forehead, and you nodded obediently, not even trying to move a muscle and settle under the blankets. He disappeared from his room for a moment, grabbing a wet cloth and cleaning himself. A few minutes later he returned, finding you sound asleep, his pillow pulled up against your chest and your face squished into it.

Seungkwan looked at you, naked and surely chilly in his bed, but so entirely relaxed after sleeping with him, and the warmth that bloomed in his chest made him question if the two of you were ever really just friends to begin with.

copyright 2024 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved

[hungharrington]

okay but could you please write something about steve’s reaction to the reader thinking her boobs are too small for him? because i needed it yesterday and it’s all i can think about

foh sure my friend <3 fem!reader, 1k, MDNI this entire blog is 18+ other than that, enjoy <3

You don't want to be that girl. Digging up a partner's history and trying on comparisons in the mirror til you're sick with jealousy. You know you don't want to do this to yourself, you know that— especially when it always leads to bitter feelings and bruised self-esteems.

But... Steve seems to have a type, whether he realises it or not.

Dana Williams was at least a double-D cup. As was Cindy Prince and as was probably every other girl that Steve's ever gotten into bed with over his sprawling sexual history. Everyone, of course, except for you.

But hey, you're pretty certain you have the tiny, tiny insecurity under wraps. That you can keep it from ruining the budding relationship between you and Steve that is so good, that tastes sickeningly sweet with how well he treats you.

That is, until you're pressed up against the leather of his backseats, his hot mouth kissing yours, hands wandering up higher and higher up your midriff. You don't even notice you do it — freeze up on him — til Steve is pausing, pulling back from you, panting.

"Y'good?" He asks, licking his lips. He checks your face properly, trying to get a read on you. "Everything okay?"

You nod with a hum, trying to settle the nerves alight under your skin. You don't need to be nervous, really, you know Steve wouldn't be so cruel as to dislike you over something so trivial as small boobs. But it doesn't quell your insecurity like you hoped. You still worry what he might think when his hands start wandering again.

Satisfied with you nod, Steve surges forward again and his kiss finds your neck, suckling sweet little marks into the side of it in a way that has you sighing lustfully in his ear. He nips at your neck perfectly, lips hot and teasing, making you squirm —you arch your back into his chest with another soft sigh of his name, your desire boiling hot.

"Mm, feel good?" Steve murmurs into your skin heavily, just as his hand slides up to your chest. You feel your body recoil just an inch as insecurity blooms a mile wide in your mind and in an instant, Steve is halting, again, pulling back from you. His brows pull together, his concern evident on his face as he searches your face.

"Hey, if you don't want—"

"No!" You interrupt, shaking your head. "I- I definitely want to. Believe me, I really want to." You push up and connect your lips with his, a soft and deep kiss that Steve melts under, getting your message across. When it breaks, Steve looks relieved but still, his eyes search yours desperately.

"Then... what?" He looks around the car, looking for the apparent thing bothering you that he can't spot. "Is it the place? I promise no one comes out here but- but we can go somewhere else if you want? Maybe back to—"

You kiss him again, strong and sure and Steve gives a sweet little hmph! against your lips, his hands on your waist gripping tighter. You pull back but stay close, your nose brushing his and can't help but grin. Steve always looks so flushed with love after you kiss him; cheeks glowing, lips pinker than ever... Your stomach does a flip as he regards you with such ardent desire.

"Okay, okay," He nods, a bit breathless. "If it's not any of that..."

He trails off, leaves it open ended for you to answer and you resist the urge to squirm away from the question. It feels silly now, even more silly than worrying about it earlier all alone in your head. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and decide to just be out with it.

"My boobs!" You exclaim, louder than you intend.

Steve's eyes widen a bit. "Your boobs? What- what about them?"

As he speaks, his eyes drop to your chest and there's no mistaking the hunger that creeps in to his gaze. Not so subtlety, one of his hands moves to adjust his jeans as his eyes move back to your face, waiting.

"They're small." You say in explanation. Steve blinks, head tilting to the side an inch in confusion. "Too small," you say, voice a little smaller. "I know in the past you- well, I don't know but I, uh, I figured that—"

"Woah, woah," Steve butts in, expression a little bewildered. His hands on your waist grow a bit surer in their grip and he tugs you closer, the two of you pressed against one another. "Firstly, Steve Harrington is a lover of all boobies. No matter the size."

He's smiling but you can tell he isn't making fun of you; no, in the way Steve speaks in earnest, tone soaked in seriousness, you know he means it.

"Secondly," He begins, leaning in close, dropping a kiss on your neck. He kisses his way down, lips scraping along your collarbones as he does, pulling back just enough to speak. "I like these boobies," he skims the underside of one with his thumb, enough to make you inhale sharply. Steve grins. "Because of the girl attached to them."

A laugh bursts out of you and Steve lasts only a second longer before he's laughing too, lips curved into a grin against your skin. "That sounded so much better in my head." He admits bashfully.

"That's okay," You say, running your hand over his hair soothingly, even as another laugh titters out before you can stop it. It turns quickly into a gasp as Steve's hand shifts up again, palm covering your tit as his thumb rubbing over your nipple that peaks up in interest. He's already back to his lazy kisses on your chest, still traveling lower and you can't deny how good it makes you feel. The fire in your belly burns hotter.

"Gonna let me show you?" He hums, fingers pinching your nipple in a way that makes you keen. His other hand shifts up, reaching to tug your shirt down — but he pauses before he gets anywhere, still checking. He gazes up through his lashes, big brown eyes pleading for longer taste of your skin and you nod, breathy and hot.

"Good girl," He purrs, pulling your shirt down further, his kisses following suit as he begins to suck the first of many little lovebites onto the skin of your chest. Writhing beneath him, moans pouring from you as your cunt gets wetter and the windows get even foggier yet, it takes only a matter of minutes before you find it quite hard to recall any insecurity whatsoever...

[juno-of-wonderland]

I want sick headcanons for Octavinelle and for the Royal duo (Barbatos and Diavolo)

Please 🥹

ok, obey will have to be on the secondary blog because this one is just twst and I hope that with sick you meant that

Jade Leech

-he knows you're not well just by looking, and in a gentle voice he asks you first (out of courtesy) how you are and then what you're feeling -if you say you're fine, he'll make it clear that he doesn't believe you -I think the first reaction would be to check your temperature with a hand on your forehead and be prepared that his hand is cold -will take you to bed and make you as comfortable as possible -strokes your cheek before looking for something to ease your discomfort -Do you need a specific type of food? He goes to the monster lounge and brings it to you. Do you need a drink? is already delivered. Do you need hugs? why did not you say it before! he will love curling up with you

Azul Ashengrotto

-he notices something wrong, but doesn't know what it is -he prepares a special day before asking anything, thinking you are overloading yourself -your favorite meal in the lounge and a massage and he even got a coupon for a spar -and then you say you are sick -this man goes crazy -What are you feeling? Does you have a fever? discomfort? pain? dizziness? -look for the best medicine for this and also research foods that he (or Jade) could make for you

Floyd Leech

-How can someone who has such a huge drop in emotion take care of their favorite person? seriously, how? -Actually he tries, but I don't think he will help much until some divine blessing falls -and he is so calm -kissing you wherever he can reach, because he will lie down somewhere with you -maybe he bites a little -send a message to Jade like: "hey the shrimp is sick, do you think it's going to die? since shrimp only live for a short time" and Jade you help you and him