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eupheme · 16 days

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— drive me crazy

[part ii of trouble will find me] | [masterlist]

bodyguard!logan x mobster’s daughter!reader

rated e - 4.6k

tags: 70s era, dofp/bonedaddy!logan, bodyguard!logan, reader is the daughter of a mobster, multiple pov, flirting, forbidden relationship, masturbation, light panty kink, poor professional relationships, making out, car oral (m) sex, come swallowing

It’s a bad idea to get involved with your bodyguard, you both know that. But you certainly don’t care, not after knowing how he feels inside you. Leaving you wanting more.

And with the way he watches you, you think Logan must feel the same. So when an opportunity arises where you’re left alone in the limo - you can’t help nudging at him, once more.

It’s worth the extra ten minutes of discomfort to see the shocked look on your face when he leaves you at your door.

The held breath that turns into a pout when he leans close, only to open the handle behind you. A tilt of his head - a silent command that you enter.

You move past the threshold - only for your frown to deepen, when he lingers in the doorway.

“Aren’t you going to come in?” It’s soft, and he ignores the way it makes his cock twitch.

Logan’s arms cross over his chest, a lift of his brow.

“Got what you wanted, didn’t you?” He points out, “Said you’d listen.”

Your mouth drops open in indignation and for a brief moment, he imagines what you offered him.

Imagines slipping his fingers against your tongue again - the warm and wet suck, the press of lips that he now knows are so fucking soft.

“I wanted you.”

He almost expects you to stamp your foot.

“Already told you, sweetheart.” Logan steps back, fingers curling around the knob. The door swinging shut, with the murmur of his voice, “‘s not a good idea.”

Not looking back, as he takes the path to his room.

Not about to admit that you’ve always had him.

Logan’s barely kicked off his boots, flopped down onto the bed before the goddamn phone is ringing.

He debates not answering it - something far more pressing on his mind. But he knows it will only end with a knock on his door, and an even greater inconvenience.

“Yes?” It’s barked into the receiver.

Cradled against his ear, as a hand snakes down to palm himself. Fingers yanking at the silver buckle, loosening his belt.

A sharp voice answers, not bothering with a greeting.

They both know who it is.

“Late night. Shouldn’t you be back already?”

Logan fucking hates the check-ins. Another notch tightening in the collar, already wound around his throat.

“She felt like staying out.” It’s gritted out - just barely managing to filter out the heavy edge of annoyance.

“It’s your job to keep an eye on her-”

Bodyguard. Not a babysitter.

It’s on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down. His hand fishing into his pocket instead - tugging out the lace as your father rambles on about the importance of an early morning for whatever bullshit breakfast you’re getting dragged off to tomorrow.

An inhale, as he presses your panties against his nose. His groan near-silent, mind wandering back to the feeling of you coming around his fingers.

“-Logan. You listening?”

He bites back the growl, “Yes, sir. Early start tomorrow.”

The honorific is acid on his tongue - but if it gets your pathetic excuse of a father off the phone, he’ll endure it.

Only needs a thousand more bucks to get his bike out of the impound. A couple more to make the repairs and settle his debt - and then he is out of there.

Logan slams the receiver down the second he’s dismissed. A lift of his hips, shoving down his jeans. Not bothering to fully kick them off - he’ll do that later.

Too focused on the ache. A rumbled-out groan when his hand wraps around his cock, a rough thumb smearing the precum across the tip.

Inhaling you again, as he starts to stroke. It surrounds him, the soft musk that clings to the fabric. To his palm, where to you leaked against his skin - a low jolt in his belly, as he finally takes care of himself.

A sweep of his tongue against the gusset. It’s fucking filthy - how he laps at your arousal like a dog, but no one has to fucking know but him.

Hips rocking up to match the jerk of his fist. It’s all too dry. Impossible to imagine the soft clutch of your cunt when all he has is the calloused texture of his palm.

How wet you were, and he barely had even touched you. How you practically begged for him to fuck you, offered to get on your pretty little knees for him.

Logan’s breath hitches, air inhaled through clenched teeth. Only a heartbeat passing before he’s wrapping the scrap of lace around his cock.

Smearing himself with spit and your slick. Teeth bared as his fist curls around the head - on another night, he’d be annoyed about how fucking close he is already.

That it’s a little bit pathetic, what he’s doing.

But right now, he’s only thinking about you.

Picturing the way he’d fit in your mouth, how your lips would wrap around him. The pinch of your eyes as you struggle to take him - he knows you’d try.

That you love a challenge, and it only makes his cock jump in his hand.

Doing this so he doesn’t stomp right down the hall, shoulder your door open. Fuck you into the mattress, hard enough that he’d see your legs wobbling the next day.

Doesn’t need the mess in his life, shit is complicated enough as is. Just needs to keep his dick in his pants long enough to get his bike fixed, and get out of here.

Doesn’t need to stir things up by fucking the bosses daughter, either. He’d endure what was thrown at him, he always had, but to take on a mob family just for a girl-

The pressure mounts, coiling tight. His eyes half-lidded, lips parted as the air hissed between his teeth.

Again, and again. His mind fixed on You, you, you - and then he’s there - something ragged caught in his throat as he spills with a grunt against the lace. Soaking the fabric with each pump of his fist, wringing out his orgasm as it scorches through him.

Just barely able to hold back the sharp poke of bones between his knuckles, threatening to tear through skin.

Leaving him panting, eyes fixed on the ceiling above. His conviction leaches from him, because Logan is now certain of one thing - as his chest heaves.

Your underwear is a mess - the fabric stained dark, where he’s already soaking in.

He’s fucked.

It’s been four days of Logan doing everything to avoid being alone with you - all while being closer than he’s ever been.

Conversations are short. Gritted out, all while the familiar weight of his gaze still settles on you. Logan’s constant steady presence as the days pass, hip cocked as he watches from the corner of a room.

That mark between his brow deepening, as if he’s trying to settle something in his mind.

It’s maddening.

How he’s trying to convince himself of what he told you. Betrayed by the moments when you come together. A hand at your back to guide you through the door in front of him, his palm dipping low.

The jolt that rocks through you, an inhale that surely he must hear, when he passes you something in the dining room that you couldn’t quite reach - fingers brushing.

Orbiting around each other, neither one quite daring to move first.

The hunger that simmers, when his eyes are not hidden away.

Even now you can feel them.

Dark eyes behind gold-tinted sunglasses. A lean as he waits - the buttons on his dress shirt popped, thighs spread as he fills the corner of the bench in the foyer.

Could swear you see them narrow, when you glance his way. Half-way across the room, a distance that’s become familiar when the house is quiet.

Unable to let your eyes dip, for just a second. Down to linger at the dark shadow of hair at his chest, and then to the tight pull of his trousers.

The edges of his lips curl, when he catches you. A lift of his hips, as his thighs inch wider.

Impossible.

A sniff, as you pivot - facing away from him.

It’s not that he turned you down. Or that he seems set on taunting you.

And you’re not pouting - just licking your wounds.

You know it’s a bad idea. Just for once - you find yourself not caring. Stuck in a loop, as you try to figure out if he thinks the same.

What this game he’s playing means.

A little shake of your head to clear your thoughts - there’s Better things to think about, after all.

Things definitely more important than the way his mouth felt on yours. The way his fingers stretched you out - how full he made you feel.

How you haven’t been able to come close, with your own. Working between your thighs, only to feel a weak echo compared to tremor that wracked through your core at his touch.

It’s definitely not what you’re thinking about now - eyes drifting over the program for tonight’s dinner. Another charity event, where you’ll be paraded in front of countless socialites and politicians.

All in the pocket of your family. In your father’s.

The apple of his eye. Another reminder of a good daughter you are, to support him like this.

A leg jiggling as you wait, one crossed over the other. Waiting for your driver, but as time ticks by, it becomes evident that Johnny seems nowhere to be found.

The jiggle becomes a tap of your foot. Impatience lacing through you, adding to the keyed-up feelings you’ve carried since the club.

A hallway door opens - there’s a hushed murmur, as one of your father’s men greets Logan.

You let yourself look, while he’s distracted. A brief reprieve, letting yourself want.

He looks good. The shirt pulls tight across his chest. A jacket laid out on the bench beside him, a tie jammed into the pocket. Cleans up nice, and you have to remind yourself that he’s not doing this for you.

Just part of the job.

Quick to bury yourself in your notes again, when he stretches - crossing the room.

“Come on.” His head tilts, expression hidden behind the glasses, “I’m driving you.”

You stand, but your feet stay rooted in place, “Where’s Johnny?”

Logan sighs, hands on his hips, “Listen, kid. Do you want a ride or what?”

That gets you moving. Crossing the last few steps in front of him, your hands mirroring Logan’s as you peer up at him.

“Kid? What happened to honey?” You coo, as your head tilts, “Or baby?”

His jaw works, tongue trapped between the sharp edge of his teeth. A scowl that’s visible even through the frame of his glasses.

“Just get in the fucking car.”

The ride is short, when Logan’s driving. A short temper and a lead foot do a lot in the busy New York traffic.

You end up early, the limo idling in the parking garage beneath the hotel. Tucked away in a back corner as Logan argues with one of the attendants - or you assume, with the way his lips pull back over his teeth.

The sharp gesture of his hands, one lifting to rake through his hair, messing up the tufts.

Before he opens the door, leaning against it.

It’s unfair the way it frames him - shins to chest, your head turning so you don’t stare.

“They’re still getting set up.” Logan growls, “Guess we’re early. Said they need another thirty minutes, at least. Maybe an hour.”

He leans then, a lift of his brow as he waits for your call.

You can think of a lot of ways to pass the time. But you’re not about to voice any to him.

Going elsewhere - a cafe, even back home - feels pointless. Not enough time to do anything meaningful, not with how you’re already dressed so nicely for the dinner - an elegant dress, heeled shoes. Makeup and hair done just the way you like it.

Your shoulder lifts. “I’m fine waiting.”

Logan fixes you with a long look, as you drag out your bag - root through it for your planner. Making notes as the door closes.

Muffled conversation, before he’s climbing back into the driver’s seat.

Your eyes meet twice in the rearview mirror, as the radio plays, winding through sounds. Stevie Nicks, The Stones, Elton John.

The drum of his fingers against the steering wheel, to a tune that only he can hear. Logan’s cigar and lighter are still tucked in the back console, from the last time you were in the limo.

If he wants it, he can come get it himself.

But he has more willpower than you, even if his patience wears thin. The music bumped up, when one of your legs crossed over the other.

Inches of fabric tugged up at your thigh, baring skin.

That weight settles over you again, though his head does not turn your way.

Eventually - you cannot help but to voice the question you’ve been carrying. To slice through the silence and tension, thick in the air.

“Are you going to give them back?”

That gets his attention - the slightest turn of his head. The flicker of an eye that dips across your legs, so quickly you almost miss it.

“Give what back?” He rasps, and your eyes roll.

“You know what, Logan.”

There’s the slight narrowing of his eyes, the barest hint of a smirk, “Mm. Don’t think I do, princess.”

The teasing nickname sinks into your skin, curling in your belly. He’s going to make you say it - spell it out for him.

You don’t have the same level of bravado bolstered by soft hum of alcohol in your veins, but you still know that something changed, that night in the club.

Your teeth grit, but you hold his gaze, “My panties.”

“That’s what you call those?” His eyebrow arches - a hint of a dimple, “Wasn’t much there, sweetheart.”

The low husk of his voice weaves through you, sending your nerves alight. Encouraged by the back-and-forth volley - how he shifts, granting you his full profile.

“Well, they’re my favorite,” You push - arms crossing just beneath your chest, and you swear his eyes dip again, “What do you need them for, anyways?”

His laugh fills the space - rough and low as it drifts back to you.

“Your favorite, huh?” The peek of his tongue between his teeth - avoiding your question, “You’re telling me that’s what you wear under all those pretty dresses?”

For a long moment, you hold his gaze.

A shift of your hips, as your legs uncross. Letting your knees spread - thighs falling open for the briefest second.

Letting him have a peek at the red silk beneath, before you primly cross your ankles, tucking them against the seat. Your voice pitching low, sweet as honey.

“Come back here and find out.”

His jaw ticks.

For a moment, you think you’ve pushed too far. A lead weight left behind, as the embers in your belly start to snuff out.

But then, there’s the gritted out “fuck it”, as he moves.

The car goes silent, as his keys slip from the ignition. The creak of the car door - it feels like it takes him an age to cross the steps from the driver’s seat, back to you.

Anticipation palpable, as the door opens. As he folds himself into the backseat - so different than the times before.

Now, he crowds your space - caging you in. Making up for the days he’s spent apart.

Despite the seats in front you of the space feels small with him in it, your pulse spiking as the door is tugged shut behind him.

A heartbeat passes, before you’re meeting him - closing the space. His back pressed against the blue velvet as his hands find your waist, guiding you to him.

Your own tugging at the fabric of your dress - rucking it up to your thighs so you can straddle him. Shins pressing into the seat, as you press down flush against him.

There’s the click of the door lock, before his mouth tips to yours. A rough sound in his throat as you pick up where you left off - your hands smoothing over the soft fabric of his dress shirt, up to his shoulders.

His slipping from your waist down to your ass. Palming you, tugging you closer until your core rocks against the front of his jeans.

A hand slipping to cup the back of your head. Keeping you close as a tongue licks across your lower lip, then further when you part. Swallowing your moan as heat floods through you, as you let him deepen the kiss.

As you feel how he stiffens beneath you, trousers pulling tight as your core nudges against the thick curve.

“You need it that bad, baby?” Logan rasps, as you inhale a breath, “Makin’ it really fucking hard to do my job.”

Chasing your mouth, bringing it back to his. It makes you smile, the way he groans when you grind down.

“Supposed to be keeping an eye on me,” You coo, “Doesn’t this make it easier?”

There’s an inhaled breath between clenched teeth, “Not when I’m too busy looking at you. Driving me crazy, sweetheart.”

Fingers trace against your bare thighs. Beneath the hem of your dress as you moan. The pad of his thumb ghosting against your slit again, low hum as you whine his name.

Letting your hands wander. Tracing over the bulge in his pants. Your palm flattening against him, fingers mapping the curves.

He growls out a soft warning, “Don’t start what you can’t finish, princess.”

The rough tone of his voice makes you shiver, your fingers flexing, “Should be saying that to you.”

There’s the peek of his teeth as he grins, voice pitching lower.

“Just trying to warn you, honey.” He croons, “I'm the best there is at what I do, and what I do best isn't very nice.”

Your mouth finds his jaw, as your fingernails tap against the silver buckle, “I know. Why do you think my father hired you?”

He makes a rough noise in his throat, when you tug at his shirt, fingers skating against the bare skin beneath.

“That what this about?” There’s a sharp edge to his voice now, as your eyes flick back up, “You tryin’ to get back at daddy?”

That makes you scowl. Fingers stilling as your eyebrow arches - pushing yourself back so you can fix him with a look, “What do you think?”

His lips are parted, breath heavy. Those hazel eyes darkened with lust, as he traces the edge of your panties. Slipping beneath soaked-through fabric, tracing against your slick folds.

“No,” He rasps, “She’s beggin’ for it. Isn’t that right?”

A smirk that turns sharp, as your lips press to his. Mumbled against your mouth, “Know this is all for me.”

“For you.” You agree, as he circles your clit. A slow pressure of his fingers, as your hips cant into his touch.

Need pulses inside you, low in your belly. That urge to taste him battling with the desire to rut against his fingers. See if he’ll give you more, like last time.

All too aware of the minutes that tick down. That you’re running on borrowed time, not enough left to do everything you want.

“Don’t tease, Logan.” You whine, when he keeps up the slow swipe against your skin.

“Tease?” He laughs, tongue peeking out against his lips, “You were the one trying to take someone home. Did you already forget?”

“S not how it went',” You pant, “I remember telling you I didn’t want him.”

He hums, eyes flicking down to the wet peek of your pussy, “Mm, and I remember how sweet you felt coming around my fingers.”

“That, too,” Your breath hitches, “And I remember saying I’d get on my knees for you.”

“Is that what you want?” Logan’s eyes darken, “Still want a taste, baby?”

There’s a whine caught between your teeth. Nodding, as you carefully slip off of his lap and down to the floor, arranging your skirts around you - settling between thighs that inch wider.

Watching the way his hand drops to palms himself, the rough “fuck” that slips from him that sends your heart racing.

Logan’s always been a big man, but he looks massive when you’re on your knees. The carpet scratches against your shins as you shift - eyes already greedy, fixed on the thick curve you had rubbed yourself on.

Watching the slow flex of his fingers - the glint of silver on his belt buckle.

The slow unzipping of his trousers, and you swear your mouth waters as all that skin comes into view. Nothing beneath but the dark trail of hair.

And for the briefest second your eyes flicker out the tinted windows. An unconscious check towards the door set into the parking garage wall, checking before you allow yourself this.

“Hey. You’ve got time, baby.” He coos - bringing you back, “I’ll keep watch. Keep your eyes right here for me.”

And they do - dropping back down without thought.

His cock still trapped beneath the fabric, but you can see the vein that travels down from his abdomen, the heavy curve that finally springs free when he lifts his hips.

You can barely bite back the moan of want, your eyes widening. He felt thick beneath your palm but it’s nothing compared to now. The heavy bob of his cock - velvet soft skin that flushes at the glossy tip.

How his fingers curl around, the lazy flick of his wrist as you shift in front of him. The slight sway as your head follows, a deep flutter in your thoughts as you wonder just how much you’ll be able to take.

Underestimating, in your daydreams. Your lips eagerly parting, as you lean forward.

His tongue clicks.

“Greedy girl.” Logan coos, “Hold on. Thought you said you wanted me to show you.”

At your moan he shifts, thighs spreading. Voice pitching low.

“Open.”

Your head tilts - offering your mouth, letting your tongue rest against your teeth.

Letting him feed his cock to you - tasting the salt that leaks from the head, when it taps against your lip. The low groan that shoots right through you, as he inches into your mouth.

“That’s it.” He husks, “You can take it.”

Your eyes are fixed on his as your jaw opens wider, as he sinks further inside. Fingernails biting into your palms as you try to listen.

“Pretty fuckin’ mouth,” Logan pants, “Good girl.”

A stifled groan, as your head bobs. The eye contact breaking as yours flutter shut, lips closing around him as you start to suck.

You can hear each of his breaths like this, in the quiet car. Rough murmurs of something sweet, held back between clenched teeth.

“Keep going, sweetheart.” He coaxes, thick fingers leaving marks in the velvet - grooves that your own will trace later, on the way home.

Resisting the urge to bury them in your hair, to urge you down the rest of the way. To palm at your tits, wrinkling the pretty fabric.

Letting you explore on your own. Letting him slip down your throat until tears prick in your eyes.

That thin sense of the outside world still keeps you tethered. The mutual knowledge that he can’t use you like you’d both like - until spit drips down your chin, messy and slick, from where it pools on your tongue.

You’re content to trace each vein, instead. To feel the weight as you suck - eyes opening to gauge his expression when your hands finally slip up.

Once bracing on a thigh, the other curling around his base. Stroking what doesn’t quite fit, as he sucks air in through his teeth.

He’s handsome, always. Beautiful like this - eyes burning in the beam of vapor lamp light that streaks through. The pinch of his furrowed brow, but so unlike you’ve seen before.

Looks like he wants to devour you. To tug you up to his lap, bury himself in your wet cunt instead.

You wish he would - another squirm as your thighs press together.

“Feels so good, baby.” Logan rasps. There’s a shallow lift of his hips now. Chasing the rhythm of your hand, the soft suck of your mouth.

The muscles in his thigh flexing beneath your palm, filth slipping from him as he chases the building pressure in his belly.

“God, I want to fuck you,” It’s growled out, and you whine with want, “Been dreaming about tasting you again.”

Again. The taste of your slick on his fingers, pressing against your tongue as he kissed you. An image of his face between your thighs sends a dull throb of need, as you moan around him.

Logan inhales, as you start to speed up, “Know you need it, honey. Bet you’re soaked through, aren’t you?”

Another whine buzzes around his cock, as he groans, “Take care of you tonight. I’ll, fuck-”

His fingers nudge yours out of the way, fisting around his cock. The other catching your chin, easing you off him. A string of spit connecting you, until it breaks.

“Shit.” He hisses out, as the tip bobs against your parted lips, “Keep just like that, princess.”

Logan’s thumb presses at your chin, as if there’s anything that would make your move.

Too focused on the way his eyes glint. Honey-gold in the stream of artificial light. The hiss of breath when your tongue peeks out further.

“Gonna take it all, won’t you?” He husks. Tone almost desperate, “Nice and wide now, don’t wanna mess you up.”

You know he’s thinking about it, you’ve thinking about it as well. Running mascara and a lipstick-smeared mouth.

There’s a rough groan that almost passes as your name, as his hips hitch. Muscles flexing as he spills white ropes across your tongue, with a ragged moan.

“Good fucking girl.”

Your eyes keep on his, as he jerks himself empty. Letting his release pools on your tongue - a soft groan as he shifts, slipping his cock deeper into your mouth.

Eyes finally closing as you suck, his thumb leaving your chin to catch the start of a drop, smearing it across your lip and back between them.

Feeling how you swallow around him. Tongue teasing at his slit, until you’ve taken every drop.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathes.

The tension weighs heavy, as your mouth slides from his.

Logan’s mouth is just beginning to tip towards yours - when there’s the slam of the side door.

A mutually shared expression, as you begin to scramble.

Your time is up.

He stalls for you.

Grilling the head of security for as long as he can - lip curled as he runs through a list of questions, the picture of professional concern.

It’s all bullshit - they don’t know what they’re doing. Not that it matters - he won’t be more than an arms-length away from you for the rest of the night.

His fingers tugging at his tie, knotted quickly and too tightly for comfort. The puff of smoke through his cigar, snatched as he slipped from the backseat.

Unable to help the tilt of his head when you slip from the backseat of the limo - his hand already extended to help you out.

A low throb behind his ribs at the smile you flash his way.

Never would have guessed that his cock was just down your throat, if he hadn’t known better. That you’d taste like him.

All the evidence neatly tucked away. Hair tidied, your dress tugged back into place.

But there’s little things he catches.

A fresh swipe of gloss over your slightly-puffy lips. The color matching the sticky ring around the base of his cock, one that will linger for hours.

Pupils that still are blown wide and dark. The arousal that clings to you like perfume, heady and sweet.

The way your eyes flick over him, hungry. A fleeting second before you’re pulled back into your world - a practiced smile curving your lips.

“Showtime.” You mutter as you take his arm. Following, as he leads you inside, “How do I look?”

The edges of his lips pull up, his voice a low murmur - something just for you to hear.

“Beautiful.”

thank you so much for reading! I keep getting little ideas for them, so I think this is going to be another mini-series (with 4 currently planned parts in total) 💖

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader

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kbwrites · 2 months

Text

The Lord's Favorite CH.4

synopsis: the night after what you shared with Sukuna leaves you even more unsure of your place. The problem is... Sukuna is unsure as well..

prev ← → next

⚝content: trueform!sukuna x f!reader, angst, sukuna is scared of feelings so he gets angry

⚝wc: 1.4K

⚝a/n: sorry about the wait but here it is!

The morning sun filters through the heavy curtains, creeping into the room, warm rays stirring you from your peaceful slumber. A chill runs down your spine, the events from last night rushing back into your mind. You instinctively curl into the mattress, dread tightening in your chest as you resist the urge to open your eyes. The memory of his rippling muscles—taught with desire as he devoured you whole. Mind, body, and soul now owned by Ryomen Sukuna.

Slowly—you allow yourself to wake, the oppressive silence of the room pressing down on you. Gathering the courage to look around, you cautiously open your eyes and realize with a mixture of relief that you are alone in the bed.

The space beside you, where Lord Sukuna had lain, was now empty. Sheets twisted and tossed, a testament to the night that felt like a fever dream—except it wasn’t a dream. It was real, painfully so. His touch still burns on your skin, his commanding voice echoes relentlessly in your mind.

You take a deep breath, you push the silken sheets aside and let your feet touch the cold, polished floor. The fear still gnawing at you as you take in the imposing surroundings. Everything in the room feels foreign–Dark, velvet drapes that hang heavily over the tall windows, their rich fabric absorbing the morning light. The walls are adorned with intricate tapestries and carvings, each telling a story of his conquest and dominance.

Every detail, from the plush carpet underfoot to the gilded frames of the artwork on the walls, speaks of a life far removed from your own. It’s a world of excess and control, where Ryomen reigns supreme, and you—despite his affection—remain firmly beneath him.

You instinctively reach for the familiar comfort of your servant clothes. But as your hand moves across the bed, searching for the coarse fabric, you come up empty.

Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance around. Your gaze lands on the edge of the bed, a silk robe draped over. Its soft fabric shimmering in the low light. You could work your whole life and probably not be able to even afford a thread from the fabric.

You hesitate, staring at it. Where are your clothes? The thought circles your mind, tinged with a growing sense of unease. Did Uraume have them removed? The realization sends a ripple of uncertainty through you, as if a small but crucial part of yourself has been taken away without your consent.

With hesitant fingers, you lift the robe, the cool, smooth fabric slipping through your grasp like water. As you drape it over your shoulders, the robe clings delicately, the comfort it offers is strange, almost elusive, leaving you feeling both sheltered and exposed all at once. The unease sits heavily in your chest as you stand in front of the mirror, the robe whispering against your skin as you move. It was beautiful… and yet did nothing to quell your swirling thoughts.

As you move towards the door, each step feels like you’re walking on knife’s edge, the fear of encountering him again weighing heavily on your mind. The corridors are eerily silent, the massacre of your former colleagues still weighing heavily on your mind. With each step, the walls seem to close in around you, the grandeur of Ryomen’s domain feeling more like a labyrinth than a sanctuary. The echoes of your footsteps are swallowed by the silence, the tension in your chest growing with each step.

You push open the heavy doors to the dining hall, Sukuna is seated at the head of the table. Two arms rest casually against his broad chest, while the others handle a cup and a delicate scroll with an air of nonchalant grace. His focus unwavering as he converses with Uraume.

You stand there, momentarily frozen, your heart pounding with a rush of uncertainty. Sukuna’s gaze flickers briefly in your direction, a fleeting, detached acknowledgment that sends a shiver down your spine before he returns to the scroll before him.

“You’re awake,” His voice rumbles through the room.

“Yes…I... Good morning.” You reply, voice trembling slightly.

You look to the left, where the separate table that Sukuna had made for you was. Your body instinctively moves towards it, seeking comfort in the familiarity of your designated space. But, just as you approach the modest seating, Ryomen clears his throat.

“I have placed a seat at my table.” His declares, voice booming with authority. His eyebrow raises slightly in a subtle display of impatience as he observes your hesitation. You walk towards the long polished table, no other seats besides the large one at the head where he sat and a smaller seat—plain and unadorned—awaits at his left side.

As you sit in the smaller chair, your gaze drifts over the spread of food. The array of dishes—rich, aromatic, and intricately prepared—lies before you, the inviting scents mingling with the weight of your uncertainty. You hesitate, caught between the urge to partake and the fear of overstepping.

His eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of annoyance evident in his gaze. The king lets out a soft, exasperated sigh, the sound resonating through the room.

“Eat.” He finally mutters before turning his attention to his own plate. You dig into the food, realizing how much of an appetite you had worked up. As the savory tastes hit your tongue you sigh contently. Uraume had really outdone themselves this time. You become absorbed in the rich tastes and textures, savoring each mouthful with growing appreciation, you’re completely unaware of Sukuna’s intense gaze. His eyes, sharp and unblinking as his eyes fix on you with curiosity.

Sukuna's gaze remains fixed on you. The room is silent except for the soft clinking of cutlery and the occasional rustle of Sukuna’s scroll, but beneath this calm facade, tension simmers.

In his mind, Sukuna wrestles with an unsettling question: You are nothing... a mere servant, so why do you stir him so?

Why does the thought of you make his heart beat the slightest bit faster?

Why did he never wish for you to work again? For your delicate fingers to only ever touch him?

The troubling ache in his chest, a visceral disturbance that he cannot quell, fuels his growing irritation and frustration.

His grip on the cup tightens so painfully that the delicate porcelain begins to tremble, its integrity threatened by his crushing hold.

Sukuna’s internal struggle reaches a fever pitch, and the suffocating silence around him becomes unbearable.

Finally, unable to contain his mounting anger, Sukuna slams his cup down onto the table with a force that rattles the dishes. The sudden noise startles you, and you look up, your eyes wide with fear as you see the dark storm of rage flickering in his gaze.

“You—” Sukuna’s voice erupts, sharp and laden with frustration. “I am starting to think you are aware of more than you let on…”

Your gaze flickers up from your meal, confusion etched on your face, only to ignite further fury in Sukuna. He rises with a sudden, predatory grace, his towering presence casting a menacing shadow. “Do you think you’re so insignificant that you can’t grasp the depth of your impact?” His voice dripping with disdain.

“My lord, I—” you stammer, but the words catch in your throat under the weight of his ire.

His eyes lock onto yours with fierce intensity “Have I given you the impression that you have the right to challenge me? To.. stir these–” He pauses irritation bubbling over.

With a swift, contemptuous motion, Sukuna pushes back his chair, the scrape against the floor echoing like a battle cry. His eyes burn with unbridled rage as he storms out, the doors slamming shut behind him with a resonant crash.

You are left alone, shaken and trembling, the weight of his scorn and frustration heavy in the air. What could you have done to upset him? The way he handled you with such care last night was a stark contrast to the venom he had just spewed. Maybe what you shared had just been a fleeting attraction, and maybe you were a fool for ever thinking that Ryomen could see you as more.

In the solitude of his chambers, Sukuna paces, the rhythm of his steps a mechanical counterpoint to the chaos in his mind. The severity of his outburst gnaws at him, a bitter aftertaste that refuses to be swallowed. The way you shrank under his gaze, trembled at the sound of his raised voice.

He grips the edge of his desk, the solid wood grounding him as he wrestles with the swirling chaos in his mind.

The sight of your fear had struck a nerve, and beneath his exterior, he grapples with the unsettling realization that he has caused you distress. And with the new unsettling feeling of how exactly to do something he hadn’t done in his centuries of existence…

Apologize.

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#kbwrites #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #ryomen x reader

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ja3yun · 2 months

Text

Guilty as Sin Pt.2 | P.SH

ceo!sunghoon x assistant!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, dom!hoon, oral (m.rec), deep throating, fingering, cum eating, power dynamics, spanking, window fucking, punishment vibes, he makes her lick his shoe, pet names (good girl, slut), slight degradation, slapping, no aftercare mentioned but implied (kinda), age gap (reader is 22 and hoon is 27), anything else lmk! w.c: 8.2k synopsis: after your boss heard you on the phone last night, it was time to face the consequences of your sins, however, he has something else in mind other than firing you. a/n: hi! it's the much requested second part and i need to tell you i got carried away with this. 6k of this is pure smut so it's kind of a pwp still. you can also read this as a stand alone if you really want to. i hope you guys love it and thank you so much for the love on the first part! as always, reblogs, likes, comments, and feedback are welcome

part 1

The door in front of you seems daunting, an imposing barrier that looms larger with every passing second. The air grows suddenly cold as a draught from the office behind it whooshes through the slits in the frame, sending a shiver over your body. You've been standing here for precisely 2 minutes and 12 seconds, the weight of your hesitation pressing down on you. The confrontation ahead feels monumental, the necessary action of knocking on the door an insurmountable hurdle.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. With your left hand, you awkwardly smooth down your charcoal pencil skirt. The fabric, meticulously ironed earlier this morning, clings slightly to your legs, stopping just above your knee. You adjust the waistband, ensuring your crisp white blouse is neatly tucked in. This is a constant ensemble you wear to your work and has been accepted and sometimes praised by others, yet today it doesn’t feel up to standard.

The coffee in your right hand was supposed to be a peace offering, a gesture to sweeten up your boss after last night’s…escapades. You had hoped the familiar aroma of his favourite brew would set a positive tone for the conversation. But the barista had made the wrong order, a careless mistake that left you with a cup of something less than ideal. With no time to wait for a replacement, you had rushed out of the shop, the seconds ticking away, and now here you are, standing at the threshold, the incorrect coffee staring at the door with you, a bubbling disappointment he will surely add to the list.

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. You were supposed to have a quiet night in with a glass of wine in one hand and a dildo in the other, not your boss possibly thinking that you’re a pervert. There is no way he didn’t hear you on the phone as you climaxed to his voice; it was so loud you think the old lady from three flats down could have heard you.

As fucking amazing as the orgasm was - possibly one of your most star-bursting - it does leave you with dire consequences that you have to face right this instant. You’re already a minute past 6am and he isn’t going to be too happy about that.

Gathering every ounce of courage, you straighten your posture, shoulders back, head high. You take one final, steadying breath. With your heart pounding in your chest, you lift your hand, knuckles brushing lightly against the door, and tap firmly three times. The sound echoes in the silence, each knock a heartbeat, a countdown to whatever awaits on the other side.

The moments stretch interminably. You can almost feel the seconds dripping by, thick and viscous, each one a testament to your growing anxiety. Your grip tightens around the coffee cup, the warmth seeping through the thin cardboard sleeve, a small comfort against the chill that has settled into your bones.

“Come in.”

His booming voice filters through the oak door, startling you despite your knuckles alerting him of your presence. Although he has given you the go-ahead, you still don’t move for two beats, suddenly regretting the decision not to quit via email as soon as you cleaned the cum from your dildo and finished off the entire bottle of wine.

With a shaky breath, you force your legs to carry you forward. The door feels heavier than it should as you push it open, the creak of the hinges matching the tension coiling in your stomach.

The office is modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows occupying one corner, offering a panoramic view of the cityscape. The rest of the room is a study in black and white - sleek, minimalist furniture and stark contrasts that give the space a sterile, yet sophisticated feel.

Behind a glossy wooden desk, your boss sits, his stern gaze fixed on you, making the room feel both expansive and claustrophobic at the same time.

“Good morning,” you manage to say, your voice sounding meek and uncertain. You step inside, the door clicking shut behind you with an ominous finality. Whatever happens, whatever reprimanding he is about to bestow upon you, there is no escaping.

Your boss doesn’t respond immediately. His eyes flicker to the coffee cup in your hand, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Is that for me?” he asks, his tone cool and unreadable. He knows you bring him coffee every morning but the hesitance in your step confuses him.

“Yes, Mr. Park, but I’m afraid it’s not your usual order,” you confess, stepping forward and placing the cup on his desk. The surface is immaculate, reflecting the cup and your trembling hands like a dark mirror. “The barista made a mistake and put oat milk instead of soya and a pump of vanilla rather than honey.”

He picks up the cup, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. The contact sends a jolt through you, a reminder of last night’s indiscretion, how you wished it was his hands all over you. He inspects the label, then takes a small, unsure sip.

Playing with the tips of your fingers and tapping your knees together briefly, you wait for a scolding, yet nothing comes from it. His face insinuates that he isn’t exactly thrilled by the taste, but he isn’t throwing it in your face or firing you, so, you relax a little.

He isn’t the type of boss who lashes out at you; rather, he keeps his calm in most situations. Even that one month when you scheduled all his June appointments for July and June was filled with May meetings. That day, he simply told you that you couldn’t leave the office until everything was finalized and settled; it was a long night.

Not looking at you, he goes back to typing something on his laptop, his face now back to that monotonous glare that gives zero indication of his feelings away. Was he mad? Confused? Disappointed? You could never know by his neutral expression.

You stand there awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, awaiting further instruction. The silence stretches on, making the ticking of the wall clock seem unbearably loud. Usually, he has a list of things you should be doing, and to get you up and in the office early seems pointless if you’re just going to stand there in your gifted black, shiny heels - gifted by him nonetheless.

Finally, you clear your throat softly and speak up. “Your meeting is in three hours, sir. Did you want me to come in early to help or…?” You trail off, unsure how to proceed.

Mr. Park looks up expectantly, one eyebrow raised as he peers over his glasses. “Or?”

The single word hangs in the air, loaded with unspoken expectations. By the glint in his eye, it was clear he wanted you to continue, to confess to your sins, which means he did hear you come undone last night. If you could jump out of his office and onto the cold concrete 39 floors below, you would; it would be much less painful.

You feel a tint of warmth along your cheeks, head bowing in a sorry gesture. There is no way you can just turn around and say ‘Sorry about last night, it should be a compliment considering no other man or porn is able to get me off quite like your Instagram does’. That is a HR appointment waiting to happen.

So instead you stay silent, much to his impatience.

Once he realises you aren’t going to use your voice box anytime soon, he shuts his laptop over before sitting back in his chair, inhaling so deeply you see his chest rise under his white Prada shirt.

As you take in his appearance, a pool forms between your legs. No matter how many times you see him in his work aesthetic; black fitted slacks, a white, tight fitted shirt, the black tie that he forms in a Windsor knot, and those silver framed glasses that you’re convinced are just for aesthetic and not functional, you still can’t control the lewd thoughts in you mind. His face with those perfect eyebrows and dark eyes only makes you draw closer to his face.

It’s worse when you’re both in a lift and you imagine it breaking down, clothes flying as you ravage one another-

“I think it’s time we had your supervision, don’t you?” Sunghoon’s question rips your attention away from your filthy thoughts and back to reality.

“But, Sir, I just had my supervision last month,” you recall. Every three months, Sunghoon calls you in to track your progress, give you direction on how to further progress as an employee, and list areas you can improve on. It is also a time to bring up any issues he might have with your performance.

Last month, like all the other supervisions you have dreadingly attended, had a positive outcome, with no complaints from your boss despite your mistakes. You’re beginning to think he might not be as harsh as he seems, the CEO stereotype of cold, mean, and detached sometimes clouding your perception of him. Sure, he can be scary, but isn't that true of every boss?

“I must have lost the file,” he says, sucking his teeth in a feigned apology. “Please, have a seat.”

Sunghoon gestures to the black leather chair across from him. His pupils expand, and his tongue swipes past his lips as you sit, crossing one leg over the other like you have many times before. Your skirt hikes up to mid-thigh, exposing more skin than is office-appropriate.

Sunghoon adjusts his glasses, peering down at some papers on his desk, scanning through them as if they contain all the questions he needs to grill you on. You know they don’t because he keeps all his files electronically; it's easier for him to find and navigate, plus he hates adding unnecessary pressure on the environment. You discovered his soft spot for the earth after he asked you to double-check his bank statement and you saw multiple transactions to various environmental charities.

“So,” he begins, reading the nonsense papers, “How do you think you’ve performed over the past few months?”

The questions are always the same, so you always answer them the same way; how Sunghoon wants them answered. “Good, Sir. I think I have made progress, but there is always room for improvement.”

“And what would you improve?”

“I believe my performance is steady, but it would be good to challenge myself. The opportunities you’ve given me to explore different departments have been invaluable. It could be beneficial to work closely with you and bring forth ideas in pre-meeting discussions between us.” You repeat what you said last month, just in a different order. Your boss loves it when you subtly praise him; it always causes his eyebrows to rise and a small, tight smile to grace his face.

Except this time, he smirks - a look he only adopts when he’s either about to obliterate someone in the boardroom or win an argument. Neither scenario fits your current conversation, leaving your mind swirling with uncertainty.

The atmosphere has turned thicker with heat. Maybe it's your own problem as you tighten the grip on your crossed legs, watching his large, veiny hands flick through a stapled booklet, sometimes licking his finger for grip.

Should you be looking at him like this after what happened last night? Probably not, but you’re just a woman with needs, and you crave Sunghoon to curb those needs as quickly as possible, no matter the working relationship.

But this is how you got into this mess - letting your thirst for him take over your state of mind. Now, you’re facing an unnecessary supervision that could lead to your termination or a department transfer. You work under Sunghoon as his assistant, but he has allowed you to grow and learn in ways a typical boss wouldn’t. Instead of fetching coffee and running errands, he’s included you in meetings, let you make some decisions, and introduced you to department heads, especially the graphic design team, the field you wish to progress into.

Perhaps that’s the source of the heated atmosphere - not your uncontrollable lust but your fear.

“And would you say you have a good working relationship with others at work?” he asks, his shoulders tenser than before.

This is a new question, one you haven’t rehearsed an answer for.

“Uh, yes?”

He stops shuffling papers at your lacklustre response, clearly unimpressed, and gives you a moment to elaborate. “I mean, yes, I do get along with most people here. I try to maintain professionalism and have a healthy balance along with friendships.” It’s a generic answer, but mostly true.

“Do you think we have a good working relationship?” Sunghoon hasn’t looked at you this whole time, but you can see him fighting the urge.

“I believe so, Sir. I think we get along well and have a solid foundation built on respect,” you answer honestly, omitting the times you’ve thought about him in a less-than-professional light.

Sunghoon takes off his glasses, pushing his chair back slightly. “I see.” His words are sharp and contemplative, making your chest tighten. He’s absolutely firing you today, and he has every right to do so. He probably feels disrespected and disgusted by what he heard last night.

Circling his desk, he leans against the edge, his body now close to yours, radiating an air of dominance. You can feel the heat of his presence, the way his gaze pierces through you, making the room feel even smaller.

This isn’t going to end well for you.

“So, what was it you used to get yourself off last night to the sound of my voice?” he asks, his tone low and menacingly curious.

The question hits you like a freight train. You choke on your own saliva, eyes bulging, mouth turning drier than a Ritz cracker without butter. Your heart pounds in your chest, echoing in your ears like a drum. You try to form words, but your mind is blank, overwhelmed by the sheer audacity of his question and the implications it carries.

Sunghoon's eyes narrow slightly as he watches your reaction, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His demeanour is composed, but there's an underlying intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. He seems to relish your discomfort, his confidence only growing as he maintains eye contact, making it impossible for you to look away.

Your thoughts race, trying to find a way out of this situation. The room feels suffocating, the silence between you stretching endlessly as you struggle to regain your composure. The memory of last night flashes in your mind, the sound of his voice in the background as you gave in to your desires.

Sunghoon shifts slightly, his stance more relaxed, yet every movement is calculated, deliberately exuding power. He taps a finger on the desk, the sound sharp and precise, mirroring the tension in the room. His eyes glint with a mix of expectation and something darker, making it clear that he won’t let this go easily.

“Do you need a moment to answer, or should I repeat the question?” he asks, his voice dripping with mock politeness.

You swallow hard, your throat dry, and manage to find your voice, though it comes out as a hoarse whisper. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sir.”

He pokes his tongue to the side of his cheek, fighting the urge to smirk fully. “Don’t play coy with me. I heard everything. Now, answer my question.”

Your mind scrambles for an escape, but there’s no way out. You’re trapped, cornered by his authority and your own actions. The room feels like it’s closing in on you, the tension thick with something unspoken. You know you have to say something, anything, to break the silence and diffuse the situation, but words fail you.

Sunghoon’s gaze remains fixed on you, unrelenting. “Well?” he prompts, his voice a dangerous whisper. He rolls up his sleeves devilishly slow, giving you a show of his veins and strong yet soft hands.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable. “It was a mistake, Sir. It won’t happen again,” you manage to say, your voice trembling despite your efforts to stay calm.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your response. “That doesn’t answer my question,” he says, leaning closer, his presence overwhelming as his eyes fixate on yours. “What did you use?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and oppressive. You can feel the weight of his expectations, the demand for honesty. There’s no escaping it. You have to confront this head-on, no matter how humiliating it is.

Taking another shaky breath, you finally confess, your voice barely audible. “I used a dildo, Sir.” You want the world to swallow you whole, to never see the light of day again because how could you possibly admit to that in front of the Park Sunghoon?

His smirk deepens, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “What size?” he asks, his tone almost casual but laced with a dangerous curiosity.

Your heart pounds even harder. Every beat is a reminder of the humiliation you’re enduring. “Six inches,” you whisper, your face burning with shame. Now your boss knows the size of your dildo. Great.

Sunghoon's eyes gleam with a predatory satisfaction. “And was it me you were thinking about?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low, seductive murmur. The question pierces through the remaining shreds of your composure.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, feeling the weight of his stare. “Yes,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was thinking about you, Sir.”

Sighing with feigned disapproval, Sunghoon crosses his arms and shakes his head. “Y/N, I am very disappointed in you.” That is the last thing you want to hear; the respect you have for him as a boss and a professional makes the words sting just a little bit more than if it was anyone else.

You bow your head in shame, rubbing your knee to comfort yourself against his harsh tone. “I’m so-”

“It should have been at least eight,” he interrupts, causing your eyes to snap to his, widening in shock.

His words hang in the air, and the implications send a shiver down your spine. He pushes off the desk and moves closer to you, his presence even more imposing. “You see,” he continues, his voice low and controlled, “if you’re going to fantasise about me, you should at least get the details right.”

Your heart races, the mixture of fear and anticipation almost too much to bear. Sunghoon leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “Now, let’s assess your performance. I expect complete cooperation from you moving forward. Understood?”

It’s a subtle way of asking your permission, knowing that once whatever is about to transpire in this office happens, there is no going back to your previous assistant and boss relationship, especially if his hungry eyes and your pulsing core have anything to say about the matter.

Nodding, you agree quickly, granting him your consent, but that isn’t good enough for him.

“Y/N, one thing that constantly comes up in these supervisions is your development of communication skills,” he says, tutting with a mocking glare. “Use your words.”

You take a deep breath, your pulse racing as you summon the courage to speak. “Yes, Sir. I understand.”

A satisfied smile crosses Sunghoon’s face as he takes in your words. “Good,” he murmurs. “Now, bend over the desk.”

You comply, standing up and leaning forward until your chest is pressed against the cool surface. Your skirt rides up, exposing your thighs, and the vulnerability of the position sends a shiver through you.

The energy in the office is charged with anxiety and anticipation. The gentle hum of the air conditioner does little to alleviate the heat emanating between the two of you. The familiar surroundings suddenly feel exotic and infused with new vitality. The mixture of the light from the world waking up outside and the glow of his desk lamp creates an intimate, almost clandestine ambience.

Sunghoon’s imposing desk, usually a symbol of authority and professionalism, now serves as an altar for your transgression. The smooth, polished wood feels cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through your body. Papers and office supplies, once orderly and mundane, now seem like silent witnesses to the unfolding drama.

Sunghoon steps closer, his presence looming over you. The scent of his cologne, a mix of sandalwood and something distinctly him envelops you, mingling with the faint, clean scent of the office. His hand smooths over your exposed skin, gentle but possessive, sending goosebumps over your delicate skin. He hikes up your skirt so your ass is exposed and ready for the inevitable.

“You need to be taught a lesson, to help you improve your vocal skills, wouldn’t you say?” he asks, his voice a dark, seductive whisper that cuts through the silence.

Without warning, his hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sound of the slap echoing in the room. You gasp, the sting of the impact radiating through you. He doesn’t give you time to recover before delivering another smack, then another, each one firm and precise.

It’s electric and better than anything you could have conjured up using your imagination alone. His spanks are harsh but not unpleasant, each vibration of his hand to your cheeks rippling down to your core. It aches to be touched, wetness glistening over your folds to exhibit your desperation.

Pressing himself against you, you feel his bulge prominent against you. Fuck, you really did underestimate how big he was. Even concealed, you know he’s packing so much that your dildo pales in comparison. His hands now soothe your scarlet ass, giving you some relief.

However, the calm is short-lived. “You’re going to tell me everything you fantasise about, no detail left unturned. Got it?” His voice is dark, his breath warm against the back of your neck, and his lips so close to your skin that you almost whimper out in need.

You can’t believe this is happening. All those months of wishing he would touch you, spank you, punish you, praise you, and do literally anything to you are all coming to fruition right now. Maybe you should have slipped up earlier, maybe those chances to touch his thigh at meetings or drunkenly kiss him at work nights out would have gotten you in this position a lot quicker.

It does beg the question, how long has he wanted this? Has he thought about you at all in any way other than his assistant? Perhaps this is a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing or could he want you just as badly?

“Yes, Sir,” you answer his previous question, cheek pressed against the cool desk as your body heats up.

“Good,” he murmurs, his hands tracing over the redness of your ass, fingers brushing lightly against your skin. “Start from the beginning.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I fantasise about you, Sir,” you begin, your voice trembling slightly. “I think about you touching me, I want to please you in every way.”

His hand comes down again, a sharp reminder of his dominance as he leaves a lingering sting. “Be specific,” he demands. “I want details.”

Your mind races, trying to find the words because what haven’t you thought about? You have imagined him in every possible scenario; loving you, hating you, cuddling you, punishing you, and most importantly, fucking you into oblivion. Even last night, you thought about him punishing you exactly how he is right now.

“Sometimes I-I think about you punishing me, spanking me until I cum,” you admit, your voice quivering with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. It feels incredibly dirty to vocalise your fantasies, yet Sunghoon seems more than thrilled by the idea you paint with your words.

He has always been the controlling type, commanding respect without arrogance, a quality that naturally makes people want to please him. Unfortunately, you've taken that want and twisted it into a filthy need.

Your boss delivers another firm smack to your ass, causing a gasp to escape your lips and a slick of your arousal to drip onto his polished shoe. He notices, but any reprimand is postponed; for now, he's focused on your communication skills to help you improve as an employee…of course.

Sunghoon’s touch is deliberate, each spank is a calculated act of dominance that leaves your skin tingling and your thoughts scattered. His hand moves with precision, alternating between stinging slaps and soothing caresses, creating a rhythm that both punishes and rewards.

He is nothing if not fair.

“Just spanking?” he teases, his fingers hooking into the band of your panties as he plays with it, feeling the lace on his skin.

You quake at his touch, caught off guard by his question. His fingers toy with the delicate fabric, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. The air around you crackles with tension, thick with unspoken desire and the heady scent of arousal.

“No, Sir.” You pause, gathering your thoughts. This is the one time to make your fantasies come to life, whatever you tell him now will probably be what you receive. You need to make sure this is everything you truly want, it could be the first and last time. “I imagine your fingers inside of me, calling me a good girl as I cum.”

Sunghoon’s jaw tenses, eyes closing behind you as the dirty confession sends an electric current through him. His hand tightens on your panties, a possessive grip that both excites and reassures. His controlled demeanour cracks slightly, revealing a raw hunger beneath the surface.

“You want my fingers inside you, hmm?” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “You want me to make you cum, to be my good girl?”

His words send a thrill through you, your body responding instinctively to his commanding presence. Sunghoon’s touch becomes bolder, sliding the lace of your panties aside to tease your folds, his fingers brushing against your wetness.

“You’re so wet,” he observes, his tone both approving and teasing. “Did my spanking turn you on this much?”

You nod, unable to form words as pleasure coils tight in your belly. Sunghoon’s fingers explore your slick heat, his touch igniting a fire that threatens to consume you. The desk supports your trembling form as he leans closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“I’m going to make you cum,” he whispers his voice a promise that sends a shiver of anticipation through you. “But first, you have to beg for it. Prove to me that you can use your voice.”

You whimper, the command sending a jolt of need through you. “Please,” you gasp, your voice pleading and desperate. “Please, Sir, I need it. I need your fingers inside of me, making me ready to take your cock.” You should be humiliated by how easily the sentences tumble from your mouth but the cocktail of your lust and his teasing touch make you weak.

Sunghoon’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, his fingers finding your clit and circling it slowly. “That’s it, you always have been a fast learner,” he murmurs, his touch sending sparks of pleasure to your heart. “So good for me.”

His words fuel your desire, the intensity building with each stroke of his fingers. Your body responds eagerly, hips pushing against his hand in a silent plea for more. His touches are slow and precise, giving just enough attention to your nub to make you want more before he drags his fingers down your folds and plays with your aching hole.

Sunghoon’s eyes darken with intent, his fingers delving deeper into your slick folds. The teasing pace shifts, his touch becoming merciless as he thrusts his fingers inside you with an intensity that makes you gasp. Sunghoon’s control is absolute, his touch expertly bringing you closer to the edge.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asks in a deep, governing tone. "Is this what you begged for?"

You can only groan in return, your body arching towards him, yearning for more. The sound of your wetness fills the room, mixed with your frantic whimpers as his fingers curl within you, finding the point that causes your vision to blur.

"Look at you," he says with a satisfied tone in his voice. "So eager and desperate. My good girl."

His words add another surge of pleasure and your hips move in sync with his unrelenting fingers. Every time he calls you a good girl, you swear a piece of your pussy and heart is imprinted with his name. The sensation is overpowering, with each stroke of his long fingers drawing you closer to the brink. You can feel your release building, like a coil of fire tightening in your centre.

Sunghoon’s thumb finds your clit, adding to the exquisite torment. He rubs it in slow, deliberate circles, the dual sensation making you cry out. The pleasure is almost too much, your body trembling with the intensity of it.

“You’re going to cum for me,” he demands, his voice a rough whisper. “I want to feel you tighten around my fingers. I want to hear you scream my name. Be vocal, don’t hold back.”

His directive is all you need. With a final effort, the cord inside you snaps, and your release crashes over you in waves. You shout out, his name on your lips, and your body convulses with delight. Sunghoon keeps moving his fingers inside you, prolonging the climax until you're a shaking, gasping mess.

You are so happy no one else in this building can hear you.

As your breathing slows, Sunghoon withdraws his fingers, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, savouring your taste with a hum of approval. His gaze locks onto yours, filled with a mix of satisfaction and lingering hunger.

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to the floor where droplets of your release have landed on his shoe. “We can’t have that, can we?”

Before you can respond, he grabs your hair, yanking you up from the large desk. His body is still pressed behind you, his lips ghosting your lobe as he breathes heavily. “The next part of your assessment is following instructions. Clean it up,” he commands, his voice brooking no argument. “Use your tongue.”

Your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, but you nod, obediently lowering yourself to your knees. The sight of you on the floor, eyes filled with submission, seems to please him. His fingers trace your jawline before guiding your head downwards.

The leather of his shoe glistens with your essence, and you lean forward, your tongue darting out to lap at the droplets. The taste of yourself mixed with the leather is intoxicating, the saltiness of your release mingling with the rich, earthy flavour of the leather. You can feel Sunghoon’s eyes burning into you, watching every movement with rapt attention.

“Good girl,” he praises, his voice a low purr. “Make sure you get every drop. Lick it spotless.”

You work diligently, your tongue tracing over the shoe, cleaning every last bit of your release. The texture of the leather is smooth under your tongue, each lap bringing a mix of shame and excitement. You should not be this willing to humiliate yourself, especially in front of a man, but he makes it so easy to fall in line.

Sunghoon’s hand rests on the back of your head, a constant reminder of his control. His fingers thread through your hair, tugging and petting gently as you continue your task.

Once you’re finished, you sit back on your heels, looking up at him with pride and submission. Sunghoon’s eyes soften slightly, a hint of warmth breaking through his dominant facade. He crouches down, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips.

“You’ve done well,” he murmurs, his voice filled with approval. “But we’re not done yet.”

He stands, the glint of authority returning to his eyes as he begins to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the metal clinking sends a shiver down your spine, your gaze locked on his hands as they work with deliberate slowness. The belt slides free, and you can’t help but lick your lips in anticipation, the desire to touch him overwhelming.

As your hand moves forward, Sunghoon’s reflexes are swift. He catches your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. “Not until I tell you to,” he warns, his tone stern. “Don’t make me tie you up.”

Your eyes widen slightly, and you nod, drawing your hand back to your side. The threat of being restrained hangs in the air, adding another layer of excitement. Part of you wishes that he would take that sleek black tie from his collar and wrap it around your wrists but you know that if you can’t touch him, you’ll go insane.

Sunghoon releases your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes down his dress trousers and boxers, revealing his throbbing erection.

The sight of him, thick and pulsing with need, makes your mouth water. It’s fucking beautiful, so much more exquisite than in your sinful fantasies. You lean forward, eager to please, but he places a hand on your shoulder, keeping you in place. “Patience,” he says, his voice a low growl. “You’ll get what you want, but on my terms. Don’t make me tell you again.”

He steps closer, the tip of his cock brushing against your lips. The warmth and hardness of him send a thrill through you, and you part your lips, ready to take him in. Sunghoon taps himself on your outstretched tongue a few times before he guides himself into your mouth, the taste of him filling your senses. You begin to suck gently, your tongue swirling around the head, savouring the salty tang of his pre-cum.

Sunghoon’s hand finds its way back into your hair, gripping tightly as he begins to move his hips. He pushes deeper, his cock sliding over your tongue and hitting the back of your throat. The sensation makes you gag slightly, but you relax your throat, allowing him to press further.

“Good girl,” he praises, his voice a husky whisper. “Take it all.”

He thrusts into your mouth with increasing intensity, each movement making your eyes water and your throat constrict around him. The feeling of being filled so completely is overwhelming, a mixture of discomfort and pleasure that sends a rush of heat through your body. You can feel him hitting the back of your throat, his cock sliding in and out with a rhythm that leaves you breathless.

Sunghoon’s grip tightens, and he begins to fuck your mouth with a relentless pace. Your hands clutch at his thighs for support, the muscles beneath your fingers tensing with each thrust. His breathing grows heavier, each exhale is a rough pant that tells you how close he is to coming undone.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs, his voice strained with lust. “Just a little more.”

With a final, deep thrust, he holds himself at the back of your throat, his cock pulsing as he reaches his climax. You feel the hot rush of his release, his cum spilling down your throat as he groans your name. You swallow eagerly, the taste of him lingering on your tongue as he slowly withdraws.

Sunghoon looks down at you, satisfaction evident in his eyes. He brushes a thumb over your swollen lips, smearing a bit of his cum across them before guiding you to stand. He kisses you deeply, the kiss a mix of dominance and raw need, a reward for your obedience. His tongue licks into your mouth, tasting himself, which only drives him deeper into arousal.

The intensity of the kiss deepens, his hands roaming your body with a sense of urgency. He grips your hips, pulling you flush against him, the heat between you igniting. His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and with a swift motion, he tears them away, the sound of the fabric ripping only adding to the raw desire between you.

You gasp into his mouth, the sudden exposure sending a thrill through your body. Sunghoon’s hands are everywhere, caressing, squeezing, exploring every inch of your skin. His touch is both possessive and reverent, each movement fuelled by a hunger that matches your own.

It’s wrong, he knows it, he should have stopped it at the spanking; he shouldn’t have started this at all. But when he heard you last night, moaning his name and cumming over the phone to his voice, it erupted a desire in him he hasn’t had for anyone in such a long time.

Sunghoon has kept you as his assistant selfishly because he knows you are better suited in a lead role somewhere else in the company, your ideas and suggestions invaluable to the work that goes on here. Your potential is wasted by his side but he can’t let you go, not now, not ever.

He has never denied your beauty, a bonus to the intelligence you harbour inside of you. He just could never act on it, knowing that even a slight brush of his hand against yours could send him spiralling out of control.

And that is exactly what is happening now. He started with complete control and now he just wants to fuck you against every surface of his office, make you beg for more, and ruin your pathetic fantasies with the real deal.

Your hands find their way to his shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons in your haste to undress him. Sunghoon’s mouth moves to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he helps you, shrugging off his shirt and letting it fall to the floor. Clothes fly and shoes scatter as you both lose yourselves in his office.

His hands grip your waist, lifting you with ease as his lips trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and over your breasts. Your legs wrap around his torso, seeking friction against the growing hardness pressing against you. You writhe in his hold, your body desperate for more, your arousal slicking his skin as you move to gain any sort of friction on your cunt.

Your mind, much like always, is going to places where he devours you and makes you his, only driving you to complete desperation. All those months of longing for your boss's cock and knowing that it’s simply inches away from your pussy makes you mewl out.

“Sir-”

“You want to beg some more?” he says cockily, smirking as his lips pepper kisses down to your collarbone and just above your top breast. Sunghoon’s mouth finds your nipple, sucking and biting gently, causing a moan to rip from your throat. His teeth are applying just enough pressure to hurt but not scar, tugging and rolling your nipple until you’re begging him.

“Please, Sir, I need you, I need your cock so badly.”

“Yeah? What perverted fantasies are twisted in your mind now?” His question is laced with curiosity and mockery, knowing exactly all the lewd thoughts that could cross your mind.

His words send a shiver down your spine as he carries and pushes you up against the tall windows of his office. The cool glass contrasts sharply with the fevered heat of your bodies, making you gasp. The city skyline stretches out behind you, a silent witness to your passionate encounter.

He snarls at you, not in a demonic way - although his dark pupils could have fooled you - but no, he’s snarling like an animal looking at his prey, ready to pounce and ravage you in whatever way you want.

Glancing behind you, you see the city and even though you know you are too high up for anyone to see you, a gleam of embarrassment shines from your face and your naked body cowering into itself as you hide from the outside world.

Noticing your sudden change in manner, Sunghoon scoffs, forcing you to look at him as he brings your face to meet his gaze, pressing you further against the window with his body to ensure you don’t escape. “What’s wrong, Y/N? You didn’t seem to mind an audience last night.”

You whimper, shaking your head. Of course, you didn’t mean to answer his call during your private session, letting lust take over your senses. But you somehow still have a fraction of your senses left, enough to know that drones fly by daily in this city, and what if birds actually do have cameras in their eyes? They could record you and post it on Twitter or something.

Your mind doesn’t just come up with elaborate scenarios for fucking your boss.

Sunghoon sees your focus drift to what-ifs and wraps his fingers around your throat, squeezing tightly to draw your attention back to him. His eyes are hooded, and the CEO that you know so well is gone, replaced with a primal man needing to devour you right in front of the city he so proudly claims as his home.

“You think anyone out there cares? Or can even see you?” he hisses, tightening his grip slightly, just enough to make your breath hitch. “You wanted these fantasies and I am being more than kind in fulfilling them considering I could have fired you, called HR and made sure you could never work in this industry again. But I’m fair, aren’t I? Generous, almost.”

“Yes, Sir,” you manage to gasp, your voice trembling. He has every right to say all of this to you because it’s true; he could have easily fired you and blacklisted you from every marketing company in the country, never mind the city. Yet, here he is, granting you your deepest fantasies and not firing you.

“That’s better,” he growls, his lips crashing down on yours in a bruising kiss. His hand moves from your throat to hoist you up further, so your cunt is in perfect alignment to meet his thrusts.

The cold glass against your back is a sharp contrast to the feverish heat radiating from both of your bodies. The city sprawls out behind you, an array of lights and buildings that seem distant and irrelevant compared to the intense connection you’re sharing with him. Your fingers clutch desperately at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as if he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

His cock slides into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, each thrust a powerful reminder of his control over you, in both business and pleasure. The way he moves, precise and relentless, has your head spinning. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you, is overwhelming, but you crave more, arching your body to meet his every thrust. The slick sounds of your bodies coming together are loud in the quiet office, accompanied only by the occasional grunt or moan escaping his lips.

Sunghoon’s eyes are dark, almost predatory, as he watches you. There’s a hint of gratification in his gaze, knowing he has you completely at his mercy. His hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you to the perfect angle where every thrust hits that sweet spot deep inside you. The pleasure is blinding, white-hot, and it builds with every movement, a tight coil of desire that threatens to snap at any moment.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out, nails clawing into your boss as his hips buck ferociously, the head of his cock dragging against the bumps of your walls so perfectly. It’s like his cock was made for you and you curse your dildo for never preparing you for how intense and good this feels.

His right hand crashes against your cheek, stinging across your skin. You moan out, relishing in the feeling. The CEO just slapped you and you fucking liked it.

“Don’t swear in my office,” he demands, slapping you once more but leaving his hand there to ease the pain. He adores punishment but also soothes you straight after.

Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps, the window fogging up behind you from the heat of your exertions. The cityscape outside is nothing more than a blur, your world narrowed down to the feel of his cock driving into you, the hard press of the glass against your back, and the delicious ache in your thighs as they wrap around his waist tighter.

“Such a fucking slut,” he murmurs against your ear, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. “Sucking me in so good. Is this what you pictured while you fucked yourself with that pathetic excuse of a dildo? It’s nothing compared to my cock, is it?”

The words send a thrill of humiliation and arousal through you, making your cunt clench tighter around him. Of course, your toy is nothing compared to his long, thick cock. The pink dildo never hits up into your cervix like he does, and it certainly doesn’t bulge out your stomach. You didn’t think dicks like this existed except in books or porn, so to have him filling up every inch of you, is enough to send you reeling into a sex-crazed insanity.

His pace increases, thrusts becoming more forceful, and you can feel the desk beneath you shuddering with the intensity. Each stroke is a blend of pain and pleasure, reminding you that this is a punishment, a lesson you need to be taught.

You can feel your orgasm building, a tidal wave of sensation that starts low in your belly and radiates outward, making your toes curl and your vision blur. Sunghoon’s hands move to your ass, lifting you higher, allowing him to drive even deeper. The new angle has you crying out, the pleasure almost too intense, and you bury your face in his shoulder, biting down to stifle your screams.

The rhythm of his thrusts becomes erratic, and you know he’s close too. The thought of him losing control, even just a little, is enough to push you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes through you, a violent wave of pleasure that has you shaking and crying out, your walls spasming around his cock.

He wraps his hand around your neck once again, squeezing tight as he claims you, your euphoria heightening as the air struggles to filter to your lungs.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. I want to be buried inside your tight cunt forever,” the admission throws you off balance, intensifying your high even more. His head rests on your shoulder as you grip his hair and tug at it, nodding in agreement. You never want him to leave, always attached to you in some way.

His words, raw and possessive, echo in your mind, amplifying the sensations coursing through your body. The heat between you is overwhelming, your bodies slick with sweat as the world outside the window fades away, leaving only the two of you in this feverish bubble of desire.

He follows you over the edge, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he empties himself inside you, the sensation of his hot release only prolonging your own pleasure. The feeling of his seed filling you, marking you, sends another wave of ecstasy through your body, your walls spasming around him, milking every last drop.

He stays buried deep within you, his body shuddering with the aftershocks. Even though his muscles ache from holding you up, he doesn’t let you fall, his hands gripping your throat and waist tightly. There’s an intimacy in the way he holds you, a possessiveness that speaks volumes about his intentions.

You’re both panting, the air between you thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Sunghoon’s gaze is still intense, but there’s satisfaction there now, a smug pride in knowing he’s thoroughly claimed you. He doesn’t want to say he owns you, but he definitely is never, ever letting you go.

His eyes scan your flushed face, taking in every detail, the way your lips are parted, the dazed look in your eyes, the way your chest rises and falls rapidly. He’s so glad he called you yesterday and so glad you answered. This, this moment, was worth every risk, every potential consequence.

Sunghoon slowly pulls out of you, both of you wincing at the loss of connection. He carefully sets you down, your legs shaky as they touch the floor. You lean against the window for support, your body still tingling from the overwhelming pleasure.

“I’ll clean you up and then we need to go to the meeting. My notes?” He asks, the CEO persona in him slipping back into focus almost effortlessly.

“In the L drive of your computer,” you mumble, exhaustion taking over. He fucked you so good all you feel is relaxation in your spent body. You almost forget you have a whole day’s work to complete.

Sunghoon kneels to your limp body, caressing your face gently. “I’ll get you a coffee on the way there, I need you to be alert.” He leans close, his fingers dipping between your sore folds, gathering your mixed juices and plugging them back inside of you. “And you better be ready, I also think I lost the file for your appraisal.”

You shiver, knowing exactly what that means - your sins are far from over...

perm tag: @immortalvee , @snoopypupp, @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @iikeustar @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull

#enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #aj writes

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katsukiizmoon · 1 year

Text

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🌶 ┊”You’re ovulating?” + BKG ꒱

『♡』 this was longer but tumblr literally fucking ate it! I’m actually still upset about it not going to lie. :(( anyways ovulation is killing me and I want this man to fuck me till I can’t breathe :))

『♡』 f!reader, ovulation, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, light choking, light finger sucking, squirting, Bj/Pussy Eating, light breeding

Katsuki walks in and loses his breath. He drops every thought in his mind, floating away like they were never there to begin with. A hushed, slow breath leaves his lips. Cock growing hard in his pants, he watches.

There you are, sprawled out on your shared bed. Black comforter under your pretty body as you work. Your legs spread as you pump fingers in and out of yourself.

He watches the way your head is thrown back, the gasp tumbling from your lips when you rub your clit. And something takes control of him.

He drops his belt to the ground, yanking his work shirt over his head and throwing it. His gauntlets and other finicky objects are in the garage where they belong. And you are in bed, where you belong.

Katsuki stalks in, dick pressing against the fabric of his pants. His mind races and he loses his wits when he hears you moan his name.

“Baby.” He mumbles, deep and rich voice flooding your senses.

You snap up, to your elbows, closing your legs. You look like you’ve been caught doing something you’re not supposed to and shy.

“I- I’m sorry m jus- I’m ovulating and-“ You get out, pussy clenching at the sight in front of you.

And oh god, is it a look. He’s so thick, little bit of sweat on his neck. His chest is large and because of work and the gym today he’s got a pump. Slick slides from your pussy onto the mattress. He’s still got his hero mask on and somehow it makes it hotter.

“You’re ovulating?” He questions, staring at your closed knees. He wants them open, wants to see your pretty pussy.

You nod, face heating and slowly beginning to spread your legs. Your pussy is clenching around nothing, slick juices sliding between your ass cheeks. It glistens in the light filtering through the bedroom.

Katsuki gasps, cock beginning to leak precum. And he makes his move.

His thick, rough fingers make quick work of spreading your legs the rest of the wayand his tongue is suddenly everywhere.

He sucks on your clit and rubs his cock against the mattress when you moan. Tongue sliding between your folds like he’s been starving for you.

“Yes yes yes!” You sing, gripping at his blonde locks of hair. But it isn’t enough. It feels amazing, your body hot all over and pussy throbbing like it has a heartbeat.

But it isn’t enough.

You pounce, pulling him onto the bed. You make quick work of pulling down his pants, shoving your tongue in his mouth. They dance there, exploring despite knowing one another so well.

He whimpers and your pussy leaks some more and you move so that he’s on his back. He’s such a fucking beauty.

Plush lips, nice and pink. His face is flushed and his eyeliner from work has smudged a bit. You watch his chest rising and falling and tears prick your eyes.

“Bunny?” He murmurs, so fucking sweet.

“I need your cock in me now or I’m going to fucking die.” You get out, pulling his pants further down.

He lifts his hips and gets them off the rest of the way. You actually almost cum when you see his cock. The precum looks so good you think about licking it up.

But you don’t. You sink down on top of him and whine, hands finding hold on his chest. Your fingers splay against him and you begin to bounce and rock back and forth.

He’s letting out airy moans and gasps, fingers digging into the fat on your hips. Something about it sets you on fire.

You keep going, feeling your pussy suck him in. He’s so big, so good. Your thighs burn and your body tingles. His cock brushes against your gspot and you lose it.

“Fuck me- fill me- oh fuck!” You whimper out, nails digging into his chest.. and he’s manhandling you.

You’re on your back before you can protest. Cock shoved back into you, knees hooked over his shoulders. It’s lewd, how you squelch. Pussy juice and precum mixing together.

Something in your stomach twists. His hand wraps around your throat and squeezes- just a little- and oh god you’re fucking flying. You grab onto the comforter so you don’t float away.

His cock is buried in you, deep. So deep you think you feel him in your throat. He’s still moaning and it’s god you on cloud nine.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you with my cum and- and-“ He gasps out, with a long and hard thrust. This one makes your eyes roll back and you barely register the clear juices gushing from your pussy.

He takes a moment and slows down, tongue tracing over your lips and he takes the moment to drown in the taste of your spit. He can still taste a little bit of your lunch and drink on his tongue. But it still tastes like you and he can’t think straight.

Katsuki loses himself, loses his mind cause you’re squeezing down on him. And you look so good, you taste so good, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Katsuki-“ You whimper out, and you mumble something he barely hears. Something you get shy about, the both of you.

He moves his face so it’s closer to your neck, so his lips are beside your ear and he can say things just as breathily as you.

“Yeah? M’ gonna fuck you dumb n make you a momma, yeah? That’s what you want honey?” Katsuki rasps, hot breath on your neck.

You start chanting out agreements, nodding, whining and whimpering beneath him. He licks the column of your throat and nibbles , stroking deep.

He reached up and pushes his fingers into your mouth, and you suck between babbles and whines.

His cock slams into you, pushing deep and your eyes roll back. Your toes curl and for the umpteenth time you’re floating again. The world goes still and you claw at his shoulders. You don’t even register him replacing his fingers with his tongue, kissing you, deep and slow. You can faintly taste your pussy on his tongue.

“That’s my good girl, that’s it, take it.” He gasps out, watching as clear spurts of liquid leave your tight hole.

His cock is still slamming into you, making you bounce and gasp and moan with every thrust. It hurts and it feels good all the same. His fingers reach and dig into the plush of your ass and he lowers himself to nibble at your neck.

Katsuki loses his last bits of sanity when you whimper out, begging him to fuck his cum in you and give you a baby. It makes his head foggy, he forgets everything he ever learned in sex ed.

You’re licking at the column of his throat, savoring every little taste you can of his sweat. He tastes like fucking honey on your lips and you can’t get enough of him.

He pushes his cock in as deep as he can, body taut as he stills. The head presses against your cervix and he cums. And he whimpers, body shaking before it eventually begins to relax. He stays like that, letting the cum suffuse until you’re leaking with it and then he moves again.

Slow and controlled, lifting up a bit to kiss you deep and make you feel every little bit of him. He allows himself to fuck the cum into you, reveling in the quiet gasps you make. You’re so sensitive, both of you, but it feels so good. It’s the fact that he’s intentionally doing it- knowing it can and probably will get you pregnant.

And he’s gentle when he pulls back, getting to his knees to lick at the juices and cum that have spilled out. But you know he’s holding back, for your sanity.

“You’re gonna be mine forever now.” He mumbles to himself, but you catch it and your pussy squeezes with his cum inside you.

He takes his time with you in the shower, eating your pussy like a starving man, and then washing your hair.

Katsuki thanks all his lucky stars when you suck his cock until it’s milked. And he sees stars when you catch some of his cum on your fingers and shove them up your pussy. Pushing his cum into you for the second time that night.

#gochujang #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugou x y/n #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugo x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader #masterlist

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angelkhi · 1 year

Text

friend of a friend - b.b, s.r

pairing: steve rogers x f!reader x bucky barnes

summary: steve’s girl is feeling needy, maybe bucky can benefit from it too.

warnings: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), oral (m+f), masturbation (m), wet humping, cum play, praise, steve calls her a whore like once? language, exhibitionism, voyeurism??? slight oral fixation on readers part??? yeah okay that’s it.

word count: 2.7k

a little note: i missed the boys and felt particularly unhinged. also endgame ending doesn’t exist. anyway, it’s fuckin nasty and i’m going to hell xo

You like seeing Steve like this. Boisterous and carefree, sipping a beer on the couch. It's normal. He deserves it.

Bucky sits across from him, detailing his recent mission with Sam. Their weekly chats often turned out like this, in between a short period of reminiscing and talking about whatever game had been shown that week, it always comes back to work. There's a hint of longing in Steve's voice when they talk like this. You know he misses it, how couldn't he? Its all he's ever known. But he insists he's done, and you believe him.

You're not entirely sure where their conversation is now, having zoned out some time earlier. Sat between Steve's legs, head rested on his thigh your mind had easily drifted.

You can't help your slight obsession with Steve's thighs. Even in a simple pair of joggers, the stiff outline of his toned muscles are fully on display. Each expertly sculpted ridge shifts between your cheek each time he moves or laughs. It's distracting, more than that.

You often find yourself nuzzling into the soft material just to get closer to the part of him you love so much. Steve’s fingers catch a lock of you hair, twisting and pulling on it every now and again, the action both soothing and adding to the deep tension threatening to boil over in your stomach.

His booming laugh filters through the room, his thigh flexing beneath you once more. It’s not normal, you think to yourself as you not so subtly press your skin against him, the fabric swallowing your helpless whine.

You sit like this for most of the afternoon, until it slowly turns to evening. Desperate and whining quietly to yourself. Your thighs clench periodically, and you have to stop glancing at the clock, secretly hating yourself for wishing it was time for Bucky to leave.

You’re so wrapped up in keeping your arousal at bay, in the warmth of Steve’s thighs you don’t notice the slight lull in conversation, nor do you notice Bucky leave the room to get another beer.

Steve strokes your head for a moment, his fingers igniting your skin as they slowly trail across your jaw. He tilts your head until you’re looking at him, a small knowing smile on his face.

“You doin’ okay down there?” He smiles, his thumb strokes your chin ever so gently, but the touch alone is enough to make you want to cry. Your need for him is far beyond your control and at this point, you’d take what you can get.

You nod, sandwiched between his calloused fingers and warm thigh. He tsks quietly and releases your chin, shifting back in his seat to widen his thighs. He watches quietly as your wide eyes glisten, immediately fixating on his clothed crotch.

“I’ve been neglecting my girl.” He shakes his head a little, smile turning to a smirk as he marvels in how transfixed you are. “Does my baby need some attention?”

His thumb traces your bottom lip, your mouth opening instantly desperate to taste him. You nod slightly, lips wrapped around his thumb, fingers clutching his calf tightly. He pushes down on your tongue, slipping deeper into your mouth, groaning quietly when your throat vibrates around his digit as you moan.

That slight bit of relief is enough to calm you for a moment, but your need rears it’s desperate head and you know you need more. Steve doesn’t move when Bucky walks back in and hands him a fresh beer. He just thanks him, eyes never leaving you.

Bucky isn’t phased returning to his chair without question. The idea of Bucky spectating your desperate state should be embarrassing enough to make you snap away from Steve. Instead you suckle on his thumb even harsher, looking up at him as he sips from his beer like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Steve pulls his thumb free, pressing it against your shining lip and more leans forward, the malted beverage heavy on his breath.

“M’gonna fill that pretty mouth up, just like you want me to.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Surely he isn’t being serious. Not with Bucky watching you both. Somehow the thought doesn’t deter you as much as it adds to the growing arousal, your cunt clenching around nothing.

Your eyes flick to where Bucky is now seated. You'd believe he's as relaxed as Steve if it weren't for the beer bottle clutched between his white knuckles. His lips are slightly parted in curiosity, pretty blue eyes dark with promise, watching you and Steve.

“Go ahead.” Bucky says it so simply with an encouraging nod, taking a languid sip from his beer.

“You gonna show him how good you are for me?” You nod hurriedly, watching as he puts his beer down, and does only that.

“Gotta hear the words honey.” His hand rests on waistband of his sweats, waiting.

“Please.” You speak through your the foggy haze clouding your brain. “Let me suck your cock, Stevie.”

“Attagirl.” He pulls down the elastic, letting it rest just below his knees. He knows how much you love his thighs, and secretly loves the way you mark them up, claiming another part of him that he gives to you so willingly.

Unsurprisingly, you press your lips to his inner thighs the first chance you get. The light dusting of golden hair tickles your lips when you suck dark bruises onto his unmarred skin, lightly tracing them with a light scrape of your teeth, earning an illicit moan from him.

When you’ve had your fill of his broad thighs, they’re littered with tiny marks and the slightest indent of your teeth in certain places.

Your finger lightly traces the underside of his cock, trailing up to the head and stroking over the slit. It shines brightly under the dim light and you actually salivate knowing you get to taste him. You marvel at Steve’s dick each and every time you see it, it’s curve feels perfect inside of you, the slight girth stretching you out so fucking good, length hitting all the right spots.

You wrap your hand around him in a tight fist, squeezing at the base just how he likes. His head rests back on the couch cushion, exposing his neck. His muscular chest begins to rise and fall slightly quicker as you stroke him.

Finally, you sink your mouth onto him, not bothering to tease him any further, this is for you after all. He’s letting you suck him off in front of his best friend to satisfy your needs, the least you can do is make it worth while.

You bob your head, alternating between long slow strokes and quick harsh suckles. Your hands tug at him, twisting around what you can’t take, revelling in his slight reactions. The way his thighs tense beneath your fingers, the way he sucks in sharp breaths and shudders out increasingly loud groans.

You wonder for a second if this isn’t the first time they’ve done something like this. It spikes a sense of jealously in your chest and you swallow him down even further, not caring that it burns your throat. Pride blooms in your chest when he grips your hair, holding you in place, groaning deeply.

"So good. So good to me." His hips flex, pushing himself against that spot again. "You gonna be this good for Buck? You gonna suck his cock like a fuckin champ?"

You moan around him when he speaks, doing your very best to take him as deep as you possibly can. Your throat closes around him as you gag slightly, the slight brush of his hair ticking your skin.

"That's my girl." His hand rests over yours, hissing when your nails dig into his exposed thighs. He thrusts slowly into your warm mouth, hitting the back of your throat softly, watching as tears gather in the corners of your eyes.

His thrusts grow harsher, as does his grip on your hair, but that hand covering yours, the way his thumb strokes reassurance into your skin keeps you grounded. You feel that familiar twitch in your throat as you prepare to take his load, but then he’s tapping you hand and pulling you away from him ever so gently.

You find yourself pouting, desperate to have him fill your mouth again, but then he looks behind you and speaks.

“Go see Buck, looks like he could use some help.” He swipes his thumb through the spit on your chin, and nods to his friend.

The carpet is plush beneath your burning knees and you find yourself crawling between the other man’s thighs. Bucky strokes himself slowly, watching you quietly with that predatory gaze.

He’s not as long as Steve, but where he lacks he makes up for it in girth. Soft veins protrude from beneath his weeping head and you’re sure if you look close enough, you’d see them pulsating with need.

You cover his hand with your own, watching him twitch in your palm, stroking him a few times in a tight grip. You lean forward and swipe your tongue across the rosy head, eyes solely on him. He sighs, shoulders relaxing, his cheeks flushed all sweet and red.

Your tongue is so warm and wet against him as you swirl it across his skin for a few moments before you finally take him in your mouth. It’s vastly different to Steve, the way your mouth stretches wider around him. His head prods the back of your throat slightly quicker, but the thickness has the same effect on your gag reflex.

You get lost in the unfamiliar taste, the slight musk that’s just so Bucky. Steve comes up behind you, tugging at your leggings, keeping you steady with one hand as he pulls them off with the other. He swipes them down, taking your ruined panties with them, discarding the soaked cotton and gripping your thighs, spreading you wider.

“God Steve, she’s a fucking pro.” Bucky’s usually deep voice is instead breathless when he speaks Steve over your shoulder. Steve chuckles knowingly, his hand caressing your bare skin.

“You hear that honey? You’re being so good for us.” You hum in acknowledgement, the praise going straight to your core.

For a moment he just stares at the slick coating your thighs, drawing small patterns across your skin. The moment is strangely intimate, made so by Bucky’s thumb brushing your cheek as he slowly starts to thrust into your mouth.

You feel Steve’s hands resting on your ass before he spreads you open, cool air against your warm wet heat causing you to sigh. He licks a single stripe from your clit, right to your dripping hole, pausing to hear you moan around Bucky’s cock before he does it again and again and again until he’s nose deep in your pussy.

You brace your hands on Bucky’s thighs. breath coming in short pants out of your nose. Steve’s lips wrap around your swollen nub, suckling harshly as he shakes his head, the friction making your eyes roll. His nose prods at your hole, and your nerves are on fire.

You suck harder on Bucky’s cock, alternating between stroking him whilst you lick and suckle on his heavy balls. You feel the ghost of Steve’s fingers against your slit, whimpering when he slides a single finger in right to the knuckle. He works you open slowly, stretching your wet cunt around his finger before adding a second, hooking them inside of you.

Between Bucky fucking your throat and Steve lapping at your cunt like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, you’re not sure you’ve ever been so aroused in your entire life. You want to whine when he pulls his mouth away from you, but the fullness of his fingers satisfies your simmering need.

“Look at you, letting my friend fuck your throat right in front of me.” His fingers don’t let up, bordering on the sweet side of harsh.

“Stevie, fuck that’s so good.” You sound as desperate as ever, lost in Steve and Bucky’s touch.

“Bet you’d let him fuck this pretty cunt if he asked, huh.” Of course you would. The thought alone is wildly arousing. Steve chuckles through his quiet grunts when you clench around him, curving his fingers ever so slightly.

“My pretty little whore.” He half chuckles, though it’s mostly a groan.

He sucks at your clit once more, fingers hooked inside of you and you’re a goner. You pull your mouth away from Bucky, stroking him instead as you gush slightly against Steve’s face. Bucky thrusts up into your hand at your loud moans that only spur Steve on, the orgasm so intense it makes your body slump against Bucky’s thigh.

You find the energy to take Bucky back into your mouth, letting him thrust against your tongue, taking what he needs.

His hips jut harshly, prodding the back of your throat. His hand moulds around the curve of your skull, fingers threaded through your hair guiding your movements. He’s quiet compared to Steve, not speaking unless it’s a quietly muttered fuck, or so good. Sometimes he’ll groan, deep and guttural, but others he’ll catch himself on the edge of a whimper.

Those are your favourite. Making a man as stoic and quiet as him whimper is soon to be your greatest triumph.

You brace yourself on his thighs, shifting one of your hands to wrap around his thick shaft. You work quickly against him, twisting and flicking your wrist, running your thumb just below his weeping head, pressing stray kisses to the bulging veins.

“Buck, put her on your lap” Steve speaks from behind you, squeezing your thigh before Bucky helps you up, manoeuvring your near boneless body on top of his thighs. The bright tip of his cock, smooth with a mix of precum and your spit, nudges your sensitive slit.

You flatten your palm on the underside of his dick, caging him in, grinding your slick cunt against him. He thrusts against you, chasing his release, resolve depleted as he whimpers into your neck. The sound alone is enough to send you over the edge. You keep your eyes on Steve as he watches your cunt writhe against Bucky. There’s a new hunger in his eyes, something you’ve never quite seen before.

Steve sits back on his calves, his fist working over his pretty dick as he watches you cum for a second time, only this time it’s against his best friends cock. He looks so pretty, with his hooded eyes and flushed cheeks all traces of his dominant nature drowned out by his desperation.

Bucky’s whimpers grow louder and his teeth brush against your skin. The hold he has on your hips tightens as his thrusts grow sloppy, and his teeth dig into your shoulder, a truly broken moan shattering through him as he cums. Ropes of white land on your mound, dripping down your slit. You can’t help but moan when he thrusts one final time, his sticky spend and your slick making a near diabolical sound

Moments later Steve, pushes himself up onto his knees, fucking his fist harshly, pushing himself over the edge with a deep, almost growl. You watch through tired eyes when he cums all over your messy cunt, faint droplets of white mingling with Bucks.

He leans back, taking in the sight of your ruined cunt, chest heaving. His fingers prod at your puffy slit one final time, swirling around in the mess three of you had made before he extends his hand to your already open mouth. You suck at them like a woman starved, tongue lapping at the digits until they’re instead slick with your spit.

A silence stretches between the three of you for a moment, before Steve stands, and ticks himself into his sweats. He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“So proud of you. You did so well.” His large hands cup your face, eyes searching yours for any discomfort. He finds none.

You watch him leave to retrieve a washcloth from the bathroom whilst Bucky presses small kisses to your marked skin and thanks you. You hum, too dazed to speak. When Steve returns, Bucky disappears into the kitchen for a few moments, returning with three bottles of water.

As you slump against the chair, Steve running a warm cloth over you and Bucky holding the water bottle to your lips, you look over at the clock again watching it tick, willing it to stop, hoping that Bucky doesn’t have to leave.

i think we all know by now everything i write sets back feminism a few hundred years. i’m very sorry and i will do it again.

#smut #marvel smut #marvel #steve rogers #steve rogers fic rec #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #stucky x reader #stucky x female reader #stucky x reader smut #stucky smut

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aweina · 11 months

Text

ᥫ᭡. good luck charm , mike schmidt ( fluff )

did you … did you just kiss me ?

tags major spoilers !! gn reader. tension. friends to ( ? ). mike being shy + awkward.

“do well for me, okay?”

mike blinks in surprise when your hands smooth over the noticeable wrinkles on his security vest — the comforting warmth of your palms melting through the black fabric.

all he’s ever done for the past few days was sleep heavily during his night shifts at the abandoned children's entertainment center, permanently haunted by the time loop of his younger brother — snatched from his youth and into the hands of a cruel stranger.

but he won’t tell you that, it’s more embarrassing to say he has slept through the only job willing to accept him.

“yeah, of course.” mike doesn’t elaborate further, much too flushed by your fleeting touches — every brush of your nimble fingers rendering his body hot and fuzzy.

you step away for a second until your eyes light up in realization. rummaging a quick hand through your pocket, a metal security badge glared over the warm ceiling light — the golden paint bruised in black blotches and dented from the grueling years of past security guards dropping it during their inevitable encounter with ghostly animatronics or even discarding it when they realize the horrors they would endured from keeping such a shitty, unfulfilling job.

mike won’t tell you that part either, for the sake of your sanity.

“don’t forget this too, you always seem to leave it at home.” your voice sounded so soft and quiet in his ear, too afraid to wake up abby down the dark hallway.

“r-right … sorry.” he nervously gulped when you gently tug at his vest. mike carefully gazed at the needle threading the cheap fabric that didn’t have his work title — all in effort to avoid looking at your pretty face. he tightly held his breath, unclenching his fists once in a while to ease his nerves. your breath fanned his face, the small details on your skin that were once blurry were much clearer with you so close — only he was too afraid to memorize them, in case you noticed his staring.

you pinned the badge into place and patted it down for safe measure, now completely satisfied with his more presentable look. mike huffs a deep, loud breath when you finally back away — eliciting a pleased brow at his adorable act to hold his breath. mike immediately sputtered at the embarrassingly loud gush that escaped his lips, quickly padding towards his backpack and keys — avoiding you as much as he could.

he darts towards the front door, his sweaty hand that gripped tightly around the backpack straps now hovered over the door handle. mike felt you linger behind him, much more distant and friendly to his own liking.

“i’ll see you in the morning?” mike mumbled with an ounce of hope, terrified that he made things awkward between the two of you.

you nodded enthusiastically, coming up to the door beside him to latch onto the door handle as well — soft fingers intertwining with his much more clammy ones.

“morning. with breakfast.” you quietly promised with a tooth aching smile. mike couldn’t help but sigh in relief, lazily smiling back at you.

the two you opened the door with a simple click on the lock, your hand still wrapped around his. the midnight air nip at his skin, calming the reddening blush that colored his cheeks and ears.

the heat flowed back to his face once again when he felt your balmy lips suddenly pressed against the corner of his mouth, your soft cheek grazing against his stubbled jaw. mike swore that his vision became hazy for a second.

“i’ll miss you mike.” you breathed, the frosty breeze passing through your lips like intoxicating smoke. before he could utter a reply, you closed the door with a loud click — your shadow filtering through the white curtains seemingly disappearing deeper into his home.

mike stood in front of his house in shock, lightly grazing his hand over the kiss mark that seemed to settle over his mouth — the ghostly touch of your lips now haunting his memory. still dazed in shock, he steadily makes his way towards his car — using his house key to unlock the damn thing all while dumbly missing the keyhole.

letting out a breath that he was holding onto, mike exhaled loudly as his consciousness slowly flooded back into his brain.

“shit.” he finally slurred out as he softly banged his fist onto the roof of his car, pressing his forehead defeatedly against the smudged window.

today he won’t use his pills. not when the feeling of your soft lips and your weirdly intimate farewell will keep him wide awake throughout his whole shift.

add. note : okay but why does everybody hate him in the movie ?! he deserves some love and fluff in his life (￣□￣」) …

#.୨୧ ina writes #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf movie #fnaf movie x reader #fnaf x reader #michael afton x reader #( ? )#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #josh hutcherson #.purple mark

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kingkatsuki · 5 months

Text

— sleepy

I’m still deciding how to characterise him because I feel like he’s got so much depth😫

Togame hates having his naps interrupted— unless it’s by you.

Pairing: Togame Jo x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, dirty talk, established relationship, handjobs, cockwarming, lazy sex, one spank, dick riding, creampie.

Word Count: 2.1k.

Togame Jo is handsome like this. Thick brows softened behind circular glasses as his dark lashes tickled the lenses, eyes shut softly as his chest rose and fell steadily with the rhythm of his breathing. His yellow Shishitoren jacket is strewn over the back of the couch, sandals are kicked off on the floor as he spreads his thick thighs.

You’re happy to feel him half-hard when you settle yourself on top of him, plush thighs on either side of his hips as you press your weight against his crotch. You’d expect him to wake with a jolt if you didn’t know him any better, so used to having to stay alert to avoid the conflict from Furin or any other rival gangs that may filter into unknown territory. But Togame already has you mapped out like the back of his hand, warm palms immediately smooth along the exposed skin of your thighs as his lashes flutter. Staring up at you through half-lidded eyes as he stifles a yawn.

“You ain’t ever lettin’ me nap, huh?” His voice is laced with sleep as calloused fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, shifting slightly beneath you as he feels the warmth between your thighs press against his crotch from the motion. The way you tighten your grip around his shoulders at the contact doesn’t go unnoticed. He slides his outstretched legs back in as he shifts you on his lap, bringing you closer to him.

“You can nap later” You tease, pressing a kiss to his lips as his tongue juts out to taste your lipgloss, “I missed you today.”

You loved having Togame like this— soft and vulnerable, a side of him that no one else got to see.

“I missed you too.” He hums, tilting his head against the back of the couch to get a better look at you as you grind yourself against his crotch again, “Oh? You missed me like that—” He feigns ignorance— he knows exactly what you want.

“Been thinking about you all day,” You admit, feeling your skin flush as the heat inside you continues to rise, a neglected throb pulses between your thighs as your cunt begs for attention.

“Ah, so that’s the real reason you woke a sleeping man up, hm?” He pretended to grumble, his fingers already dipping into your thighs in response, “Tell me what you need?”

“Need your cock, Jo,” You mumbled, leaving glossy kisses against his jawline, “Please?”

“Take whatever you want, sweetheart.” He goads, “It’s yours.”

You love when he indulges you, leaning back just enough to pull his pants down as he mutters complaints under his breath as he’s forced to raise his hips just enough to leave the fabric nestled around the curve of his ass. A soft pout appears on his lips that you can’t help but kiss away before you take in the sight of his cock, hot and heavy as it lays against his pelvis.

Gently taking him into your hands as you pump him softly, your thumb swipes at the bead of pre that pearls at the tip as you smooth it along the length of him. Togame is so pliant when he’s like this, allowing you to take the reigns and use him how you see fit.

“You’re such a tease,” He chastises, his head strewn against the back of the couch as your eyes follow the column of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs when you press your thumb against his slit, swallowing thickly as his hips jerk into your grip.

“I dunno,” You smile back, “You seem to like it.”

“Your hand’s wrapped around my dick, what’s not to like?” He drawls, squeezing your thigh gently.

“So why don’t you wanna fuck me?” You press, and you feel his grip tighten against your plush skin.

“Believe me, sweetheart,” He yawns, not bothering to cover his mouth as he flashes sharp canines, “I always wanna fuck you.”

“So why don’t you?” You pout, running your thumb along the underside of his cock.

“I just like seeing you needy,” Togame grins, and it has your brows furrowing in annoyance.

“I’m not needy,” You gasp in mock offence as you jab a finger against his chest, “You’re the one that’s been out fighting all morning.”

“You always need my cock to shut you up, yeah?” He ignores you with a dull smirk, staring at you with half-lidded eyes.

Togame his calloused palm along your thigh to the curve of your ass as he pulls your body against his, your face buried in the apex of his neck as he grips his cock steady. Giving himself a languid pump with a flick of his wrist as his other hand pulls your panties to the side, too tired to even attempt to undress you. His slender fingers curl around the fabric as he helps guide the tip of his cock towards your drooling hole, holding you steady as you meet resistance and begin to drop yourself down on his cock.

“Fuck,” You sigh as you feel the delicious ache of him stretching you out. Grinding your hips against him as you feel your body begin to relax and mould to him, taking inch after inch as he finally bottoms out inside you.

“Jo,” You murmur against the column of his neck, feeling him shift beneath you as he palms the swell of your ass, “Pay attention to me.”

“You always have my attention, sweetheart,” He replies, smoothing a palm along your spine as he holds you to his chest, “But it’s bedtime.”

“It’s four in the afternoon,” Your lips curl into a grin against his pulse point as he delights in the saccharine tone of laughter that tumbles from your lips.

Togame breaks off into a guttural groan that rumbles deep in his throat when he feels your tight heat clench around him from the rhythm of your laughter, a sound that vibrates all the way through his neck as you feel it against your lips.

“Yeah, see—” He agrees, tightening his grip around your frame to prevent you from grinding yourself down on his lap, “Bedtime.”

He tries to resist the urge to rut into you like this, to feel the blunt head of his cock carve away at your insides as you pulse and whine above him. Your fingers tease through the short hair at the back of his neck as you wriggle your hips in defiance.

“You never let me nap, woman.” Togame grunts.

“We can’t fall asleep like this.” You coo, warm breath fans his ear as you try to find purchase against his broad shoulders.

“Sure we can.” He counters, “Just close your eyes.”

Togame was certain he could quite happily die like this— the last thing he feels as he takes his dying breath is the sensation of your perfect walls wrapped tight around his cock. What better way to go?

“You’re so silly,” You scoff, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you continue to roll your hips above him, lifting yourself before dropping yourself down on his length as you deliberately press against his pelvis with each forward motion to add some friction to your clit.

You think he’s maybe falling asleep until he strokes his palms along your waist, mapping a path along your sides until he finds the curve of your chest. Pushing your shirt over your breasts as he palms them through the thin cups of your bra. The corners of his lips curl into a content smile when he feels you clench around him in response, your pace faltering when his thumbs graze your nipples. Feeling them pebble beneath his touch as he pulls the cups of your bra down to settle below your tits.

“You’re so pretty,” Togame mumbles, rolling the stiff peaks between his thumb and forefinger as you scoff.

“You’re not even looking at me.”

“I don’t have to look to know.” He shoots back, catching you off guard with a rough smack against your ass.

“Oh,” Your hips jerk, velvety walls clenching around him in response as you feel your skin begin to prickle under his touch.

“You’re always pretty.” He parts his eyes into a tired squint, just enough to adjust to the afternoon sunlight streaming into the room as he watches you. Using him for your pleasure as you keep a sloppy pace, hips rolling as his cock moulds you into the shape of him.

You reward him with a kiss— a slow sensual one with tongues clashing and swallowed breaths as a groan rises in his throat.

“Jo,” You mumble against his lips, “I’m tired.”

“Oh?” He goads, “You’re tired? When you woke me up to do this.”

“Please, Jo.” You plead, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth.

“I suppose I’ll have to do the work, huh?” He rasps, squeezing your ass playfully.

“Fuck me, please?” You whine, and Tokgame feels it. The way your walls tremble around him with desire, desperately trying to milk him of his seed as he feels your slick drool down to his balls. His eyes are still shut behind circular glasses as he moves his fingers to where your bodies are connected, stroking along the length of him that pokes out of your tight cunt to feel how wet you are.

“Fuck.” He groans, and you can tell that’s his final piece of resolve wavering.

You’re the only thing that makes him want to go fast— the pulse of your warm hole coaxing him further as he expels a deep breath. Togame’s grip on you tightens as he holds you steady, fingers dig into your hips as he starts a rough pace. The sound of skin against skin echos the room as he fucks up into you with vigour. The harsh movement has your breasts bouncing as you scramble for purchase, clinging onto the back of his neck near the base of his skull as you rest your forearms on strong shoulders.

He loves you like this— so pliant and at his mercy as his balls slap against the swell of your ass with each rough rut. Pulling the prettiest sounds he’s certain he’s ever heard from between your lips as you begin to crescendo, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your climax as your walls clamp down around him.

“That’s it, baby,” He grunts, as his hips snap roughly, “I know you’re close.”

Pearly tears clump in your lashes as your nails dig into his scalp, the coil inside you dangerously close to unravelling as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each pronounced thrust, “Give it to me.”

And you do. Crying out his name as your toes curl and your eyes roll into your skull, euphoria washes over you as it’s all you can do but bask in the pleasure as a mind-numbing orgasm surges through you.

“That’s my girl,” Togame is quick to prolong it, his eyes open and intent on you through polarised lenses as he moves his thumb to rub at your puffy clit. Ignoring your pleas that it’s too much, you can’t— when he knows you can, and you will, “That’s my good fucking girl.”

Your body trembles against him as your second climax hits that much harder than your first. Convulsing against him you pull your face back from his neck, sitting upright as the pleasure wracks through you, flowing through your veins like an addictive drug as he watches you ride it out. Clenching around his cock as your cunt eagerly begs him for his release, wanting to feel every drop of it.

“Fucking hell,” He pants, holding you steady as he begins to use his grip on you to bring your body down to meet his thrusts. Forcing you onto his cock with each rough snap of his hips, “You’re so needy.”

It’s all you can do but sit there and take it as he uses you for his own release, barely managing a handful of thrusts before he reaches his peak. Holding your hips flush with his as he pumps spurt after spurt of warm, white cum inside your velvety walls. Coating you with his spend as he leaves you seated on his cock, basking in the afterglow as he feels your walls continue to pulse and throb around him as he keeps you plugged with his spend.

You whine when you try to pull yourself off him and his harsh grip stops you, leaving you positioned on his cock as he wraps his arms around your body to press you against his chest. Tucking your head onto his shoulder as he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone.

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” He hums, his hands back to tracing lines against the curve of your spine, “You got what you wanted— now we’re takin’ a nap.”

#togame Jo x reader #togame jo smut #togame x reader #togame smut #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker smut

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simpingforstardew · 6 months

Note

a mini cozy harvey smut would be amazing if possible ❤️ 🤭

no pressure of course!

pairing: sdv harvey x reader

synopsis: one mini cozy harvey smut, coming right up~ just some fluffy smut, pretty much no plot ♡ i really hope you like it !!

warnings: 18+ smut (minors dni), reader is described as having a vagina, oral sex (reader receiving).

word count: 1.3k

Sparrows chirp outside as rays of the spring sunrise filter through your sheer curtains, casting a golden glow into the room. Beneath the layers of yarn blankets enveloping the bed, you luxuriate in their comforting embrace, basking in the tranquillity of the early morning.

Beside you, Harvey stirs, stretching languidly while he haphazardly pushes the duvet off his body. As he arches his back slightly, the fabric of his white t-shirt obediently follows the movement, riding up to reveal a glimpse of his belly underneath and the happy trail that adorns his midsection. Your eyes follow the trail down to his green plaid boxers, hanging loosely on his hips.

“Darling, you’re staring.” Harvey whispered through a grin, his morning voice more gruff than usual; his eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

You smile in spite of the blush that warms your cheeks, “I’m allowed, aren’t I?”

The doctor rubs his heavy eyes as a soft chuckle escapes his lips, “Shh, come here, you’re-,” A yawn interrupts him, “You’re so far away.”

“I’m only on my side of the bed, Harv,” You giggle, shuffling towards your boyfriend, “‘s not that far.”

He wraps you protectively in his arms, one hand lightly massaging your back while the other finds itself on the back of your head, pushing you comfortably into the warmth of his chest. Harvey’s chypre scent was just as comforting as the embrace. Your calloused fingers trace shapes into the skin under his t-shirt, trying to remember where each mole and freckle is.

“I love you, y’know?” You whisper, looking up at him as another smile tugs on his lips.

“Of course, I just hope you know that I love you more.” He kisses your forehead. You still weren’t used to the tickle of his moustache.

You reach a hand up to caress his soft cheeks, while his viridescent eyes scan your face— as if he was memorising every feature. Harvey’s strong arms pull you impossibly closer as you stare at his mouth, your thumb delicately brushes along his lower lip.

Before you could tease him for the flush that was quickly colouring his cheeks, he leans down to kiss you.

His lips, soft and yielding, already carried the faint taste of coffee; it was intoxicating. A soft whine escaped his lips as you threaded your fingers through his dark hair, still tousled from sleep. Touching him feels like heaven; tasting him is like indulging in a forbidden fruit. It was the kind of adoration that devotees created worship for.

You hadn’t realized how desperately you needed this until this moment, a moment in which you two are the only people awake in the valley. Every sensation seems to converge into a single, overwhelming need for closeness.

Harvey’s large hand moves down to your thigh as it rests on his hip, tugging you desperately towards him, as he deepens the kiss. This kiss is nothing like your first just weeks ago: a gentle, yet nervous confession. This is carnally unrestrained; honest.

“Please I-,” the whispered plea slips out of your kiss bitten lips.

“Fucking insatiable,” Harvey chuckles softly, his lips still brushing against your own, before rolling to cage you between his arms. With your back now pressed against the plush sheets, Harvey took the opportunity to tug off his wrinkled t-shirt, fumbling with the hem before discarding it on the floor. With anybody else, at any other time in his life, perhaps he would have been too insecure to do so.

Harvey’s large frame hovers over you, his hand gentle on your neck as he leans in close. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers; you feel the warmth of his breath caress your ear, “I need to hear you say it.”

“Fuck, you’re killing me here— Please, I…” you beg, voice reduced to a hoarse whisper, “I need you, Harvey.”

He kisses down your neck, nipping just to see you squirm, as his hand caresses your chest beneath your t-shirt.

“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate,” he continues to praise you between kisses, marking your most sensitive areas as he makes his way down your body, “So pretty.”

As he shuffles down the bed, he lifts up your t-shirt to kiss your belly— blowing the occasionally raspberry in response to your embarrassed whines. You look down to see him comfortably snug underneath the duvet, kissing your inner thighs with delicate reverence before meeting your gaze.

“Hi.” he smiles, chuckling as he looks at you longingly.

“Hi.” you respond breathlessly, stroking the brunette waves of his hair. You involuntarily tighten your grasp when you feel the warmth of his breathe tease your clothed pussy; a sinful moan escapes his lips in response.

“Careful, darling,” Harvey exhales, “You don’t want me to come that fast, do you?”

Your breath hitches as you hopelessly buck your hips, feeling both of Harvey’s large hands reach to grab your ass “N-no, fuck— sorry.”

Your wetness soaks through your underwear as you feel Harvey’s deft fingers rub slow circles on your clit; his other hand moving to diligently massage your tense hips. Despite the doctor’s dominant act, you could feel him grinding against the soft mattress as he pants pathetically. He glances up with puppy dog eyes, through the hair that had cascaded down his face, to watch for your reactions.

“Do you-,” you whimper, interrupted by the increasing speed of your boyfriend’s fingers, “Do you want to fuck me, puppy?”

“More than I’ve wanted anything,” Harvey sits up, tugging off your underwear, “but right now, I need to taste you.”

Harvey is quick to begin lapping up your juices, occasionally moaning to send vibrations through your sensitive cunt. He is committed to satisfying every inch of your sex so much it almost overstimulates you. His hot mouth, his coarse moustache, his wet tongue, all determined to make you climax.

“So gorgeous for me like this, darling,” Harvey gasps; all you can do— all you want to do— is whimper and moan as you weakly grind against his face.

Slowly, he pushes two fingers inside you— the mess of your anticipation from Harvey’s unrelenting praise making the perfect lube. The delectable stretch just barely satisfies the heavy ache in your pussy; so you roll your hips in time with his digits as they slide in and out, hitting just the right spot. With his fingers fucking you, he continued to eat you out like a man starved. You spread your legs further when he pulls you closer to his face, resting one thigh on Harvey’s shoulder.

“Mmm, p-please.. Fuck—” your moans were becoming unintelligible, your boyfriend’s ministrations unravelling you completely, “Please, Harv’— I’m so close.”

Snapping your hips back and forth, Harvey’s nose nudges against your clit as he groans beneath you; you quickly came undone. As you stumble blissfully towards your release, your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth falls slack; wanton cries fill the room. You feel your legs continue to shake when Harvey pulls his fingers out, the absence of his touch making you whine.

“So good for me, I got you. There you go—,” Harvey soothes; as you open your eyes again, you’re greeted by the sight of him sucking your juices from his fingers. His unwavering eye-contact leaving you breathless, “All for me.”

He makes his way back up the bed, bringing you back into his arms as you catch your breath; after a few moments, your light-headedness fades as you ground yourself in his embrace.

“Wait, Harv—” you mumble, “What time is it? You don’t have to be in the clinic today do you?”

“Shh, don’t you worry, Maru has everything sorted out for today,” he traces shapes in your back, almost lulling you back to sleep, “How about I get you some water while you go to the toilet, then I can make us some breakfast? Is that ok, honey?”

You nuzzle into his chest, nodding emphatically to his morning plans, “Sounds perfect.”

#sdv fanfic #stardew valley #sdv harvey #sdv x reader #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley x reader #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #sdv x farmer #sdv x y/n #sdv harvey x y/n #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #smut #sdv harvey smut #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley harvey smut #ao3 writer #sdv

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valkyriexo · 4 months

Text

I Volunteer | Bang Chan

ᑉ³pairing; Bang Chan x Reader

ᑉ³summary : Chan comes home angry and frustrated and needs some release.

ᑉ³genre; Smut MDNI

ᑉ³warnings; dirty talk, swearing, use of 'slut', 'whore', 'Good girl' , Degrading, P in V, Rough sex , Frustrated sex, degradation kink ,daddy kink, teasing, overstimulation, fingering , oral (m. and f. receiving) hair pulling, begging, edging, Aftercare, Smut. SMUTTT minors do NOT interact

ᑉ³Authors Note; Thank you for 500 followers 🥹. In honor, here's my first ever smut. If it sucks dont tell me lmao

Chan trudged through the door, his steps heavy with exhaustion and frustration. The dim light of dusk filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. He tossed his bag on the floor with a thud, the weight of the day's failures weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Chan was used to the demands of the music industry. But today had been particularly rough. Hours spent in the studio, pouring his heart and soul into producing music, only to hit one creative roadblock after another. The melodies that usually flowed effortlessly seemed to elude him, and each attempt at perfection only ended in disappointment.

He slumped onto the bed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The silence of the apartment was suffocating, broken only by the distant sounds of traffic outside. Chan closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him.

But then he heard it—the soft creak of the door opening. His eyes snapped open, and there you stood, concern etched across your face as you took in his tired form.

"Chan, baby? Are you okay?" you asked softly, crossing the room to sit beside him.

He tried to force a smile, but it faltered before it could fully form. "Just.. a long day," he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

You reached out, your hand finding his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Chan hesitated, the words caught in his throat. Chan sighed heavily, the weight of the day pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. Without a word, he lifted his hands to cover his face, fingers rubbing at his temples as if trying to massage away the tension that had settled there.

You watched him, your heart aching at the sight of his distress. You wanted nothing more than to take all the pain and frustration away, to bear it for him so that he could find some semblance of peace. You knew there were days like this, days when Chan came home worn out and overwhelmed.

On those days, he often didn’t want to talk about what was wrong. It wasn't that he didn’t trust you or want to confide in you; it was just his way of coping. You had learned to read the silent signals—the way his shoulders slumped, the faraway look in his eyes, the heavy sighs that punctuated the quiet.

Tonight was one of those nights.

"Darling, why don't you let me help you forget about your day?" You purred, placing your hand on his chest, and slowly beginning to drag it down his body as you got into position. You knelt before him, the anticipation building between you.

The warmth of your touch seemed to seep through the fabric of his shirt, and Chan's hands slowly fell from his face, revealing eyes that were tired and weary. You place both of your hands on his legs and slowly began to push them apart, allowing yourself to slide in between.

"Baby…" Chan said, placing his hand on top of yours, almost as if to stop you, but you could tell he didn't really want to. His fingers lingered, trembling slightly. You could see the conflict in his eyes—the need for comfort battling with the instinct to shield you from his burdens.

"Shh... let me help you," you replied softly, as you began to unbuckle his belt, your eyes never leaving his. "I want to make you feel good, baby. You deserve it." you cooed, your fingers deftly undoing his pants.

Chan groaned as you palmed him through his boxers. You could feel him getting harder under your hands.

"Y-you don't have to, baby" He said through his moans. You slowly pulled down his boxers, his erection springing free. "I can do-" You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his pink tip, shutting him up.

You continued by placing a trail of kisses down his cock, keeping eye contact with him. You licked your way back up to the tip and took him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, tasting his pre-cum as it seeped from the top.

Chan couldn't help but throw his head back and lean further onto the bed. You continued to suck him, bobbing your head up and down relentlessly. Chan's breath caught in his throat as his ears began to turn a shade of red. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock. Chan moaned loudly, his hips bucking involuntarily. You took him deeper into your mouth and sucking harder than before. You reached up to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your fingers as you continued to pleasure him.

"Fuck, Y/N," Chan moaned, his hands slowly making its way to your hair. "That feels so good." You responded with a low growl, taking him even deeper into your throat, his tip kissing the back of your throat.

Chan's hips slowly lifted off the bed to meet the bobs of your head, low groans slipping past his lips as you increased your pace, your lips locked around his shaft. You choked slightly around his cock, tears pricking your eyes as his tip hit the back of your throat continuously. He whined for more, almost sobbing when you completely removed yourself from around him, removing your lips from him with a pop.

You lick your way up his cock, once again paying extra attention to his swollen tip. Before you could react, Chan's strong hands were on your face, tilting your head back. His gaze locked onto yours, he began to thrust his hips forward, his thick, hard cock pressing against your lips. You parted them slightly, allowing him to slide inside.

He couldn't take it anymore. He began to fuck your mouth roughly, his cock sliding in and out of your throat with each thrust. "Fuck, you're so good at this," Chan growled, his hips moving faster. "You like that, don't you? You love having my cock in your mouth." You gagged from the force.

"That's it, baby," Chan moaned, his voice thick with desire. "Take it all in." You could feel the saliva dripping down your chin, but you didn't care - the only thing that mattered was pleasing Chan.

"I'm go-gonna.... fuck.. gonna cum." he said, his thrusts beginning to slow down.

"Yeah? Cum for me, baby," you encouraged, your voice muffled by Chan's cock. You felt Chan's cock twitch in your mouth, his cum spurting into your throat. You swallowed, your eyes never leaving Chan's as you milked him for every last drop.

He pulled his cock out, and you pressed your thumb down onto his dripping red tip.

"Get up," he said, his eyes now full of lust. It was as if a switch had been flipped, his demeanor completely different from before. His anger ebbed away, replaced by a different kind of fervor. Lust, raw and primal, coursed through his veins, igniting a fire within him that demanded more release. He closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his pent-up emotion into it.

Chan's hands began to roam over your body, teasing and caressing you. You helped him by removing your shirt and pants. You stood before him in nothing but your lacy underwear, feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated. Chan's eyes roamed over your body, a look of pure lust on his face. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Encouraged by his words, you reached out and took off his shirt, eager to feel his muscular body against yours. Chan pushed you onto the bed and kissed you again, now hovering above you.

Chan's hands moved to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them gently. You moaned softly, your body arching into his touch. "You like that, baby, don't you?" he growled, his fingers rolling your nipples.

"Y-Yes. " You say, trying your best to form the words you needed. With that, his mouth found your nipple, and he began to suck and nibble on it. You moaned softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he teased and aroused you with his tongue. As you writhed in pleasure, Chan's hand moved between your legs, his fingers gently rubbing your pussy through the fabric. You moaned louder, your hips bucking against his hand as he played.

With a groan, Chan tore your panties away, exposing your wet pussy to his eager gaze.

"You're so wet for me, baby," he growled, his fingers sliding between your folds to find your clit. You cried out as he began to rub it in slow, teasing circles, his other hand gently massaging my breasts. You could feel your orgasm building, your body trembling with desire. "Please," you begged, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please. Chan"

"Wrong name. Try again" he replied sticking two fingers into you.

"Fuck... Please… please daddy," You cry out. "Fuck me.... please. I need you" you say, whining to his touch.

Chan chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Such a slut.. Look at you.. All needy for my cock." He licked his lips. "Such a slut arent you?"

"Yes.. Yes I'm- I'm a slut," you say writhing from his fingers going faster in you.

"And what do sluts do?" His voice is low and deep. The sensation of his breath against your skin makes your heartbeat quicken. The scent of his cologne mingles with the tantalizing warmth of his breath, creating an intoxicating blend that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

"T-They cum." you say feeling that familar tightness in your core.

"Good girl…..I want to taste you," he whispered, his voice filled with desire. With that, he dipped his head between your legs, his tongue finding your clit as his fingers plunged deeper into your pussy. You cried out, your body writhing in pleasure as he expertly licked and fingered you.

"Are you going to be a good whore and cum for me?"

You couldnt form the words to respond to him. He hummed against your clit as your fingers tangled themselves into his hair. His tongue teased your tight hole as you reached your orgasm and your cum trailed down the expanse of your thigh.

As you rode out our orgasm, Chan stood, his pulsating cock throbbing with desire. He smirked, a look of pure satisfaction on his face. "Now, it's time for you to take my cock, baby." You nodded, your eyes locked on his massive cock.

"Yes, please," You begged, eager to feel him inside you.

Chan's hands gripped your hips, lifting you and teasing his cock at your entrace. He gave you no time to adjust as he thrust into you with a powerful, primal force. You cried out, you body trembling with pleasure as he was big, filling you completely.

"Oh? It doesn't fit? Poor baby still not used to having something big like this inside huh?" he groaned, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in.

He thrusts into you again, so hard it shakes the bed. He begans to move, each thrust feeling better than the last. It's as if hes trying to fuck all his frustration and anger out into you.

"Fuck... Shit. Take it. God fucking take it." He’s growling, groaning in your ear, holding you down.

You wrapped your legs around him, urging him to go deeper. He complied, his cock sliding in and out of you with increasing speed. You moaned, your body trembling with pleasure. You saw the bulge of his cock in your stomach with every sharp thrust, his cock dragging deliciously against your slick walls.

Chan's hands roamed over your body, caressing and teasing you as he fucked you hard and deep. "Look how good you take me. Feeling so good on my dick, squeezing me just like that."

You moaned louder, your body arching against him as he drove you both closer to the edge. "Fuck, you're so tight," he growled, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he pounded into you with increasing intensity.

“Keep taking it baby. Just a little longer.” Chan’s soft praise were littered with groans, the deep ruts of his hips becoming increasingly sloppy as he fucked you. Your eyes were starting to become glossy. You began to clench around his cock, a tell tale sign of your coming orgasm. You could barely form a coherent response, only able to focus on the cock that was fucking you so well and dumb and the obscene sounds of you wetness coating his length.

Your body was begging you to cum. But this was about him. You wanted him to feel good. Him to cum first. He could tell you were completely fucked out, pussy wrapping snugly around him as he continued to stretch you out so well. You were so close, trying your hardest to hold out for him and be the good little slut he loved.

Suddenly you felt empty, moaning as Chan pulled out of you. He then flips you both, putting you on top, and denying you of your orgasm.

"Look at you.. all fucked out and pretty.. You can take more. I know you can." Chan breathes heavily beneath you, dark eyes watching you. "Ride my cock slut."

You slowly lower yourself onto his red swollen cock, and he arches his back off the bed when he felt your tight pussy clench teasingly around him. Groans leave his lips, dick throbbing deep inside you. Placing your hands on his chest, you started rocking back and forth at a steady pace. Chan cursed lowly under his breath as he watched you look down at him.

You continue to grind your hips down against him, loving the look of desperation on his frustrated face as his leaking tip twitched in your warmth.

“Fuck” he said, feeling you clench more and more around him. "F-Faster" he said. Chan's hands remained on your hips, guiding you as I moved. You could feel the pleasure building deep within you again , the intensity growing with each passing moment. You whimpered from how good he felt inside you.

"Oh God," he moaned, his body trembling. "I-I'm ....fuck. I'm so close."

He began thrusting his hips up to meet yours, his cock driving deeper inside you. You knew he wouldnt stop until you were fucked dumb and covered in his hot cum. You cried out, your body writhing with pleasure as he reached his peak.

Chan fell apart, and his warm cum poured into you as you rode him.

“A-ah… Fuck.. Fuck.. fuck.. fuck,” Chan said as he threw his head back onto the pillows. “You feel so good.”

Your pussy clenched around him and you pushed your thighs tighter together around his hips. Your fingernails dug into his chest and you made your hips keep moving, throwing your head back at the overwhelming sensations taking over your body. His whines and begs filled the room, tears filling his eyes from the overstimulation his cock was now going through. Chan could feel your orgasm building. "Come for me, baby," he whispered, his voice shaky with overstimulation. "I want to feel you cum on my cock."

Seconds later, you finally snapped and your cum dripped down Chan’s softening cock and onto his lower stomach as you slid off of him. You collapsed down onto his chest and his arms came to wrap around your back.

Chan's arms are wrapped tightly around you, his grip firm yet tender. You can feel his chest rising and falling rapidly against yours, each breath he takes heavy and laden with emotion.

Chan couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He knew he'd been rough with you, more so than he'd intended.

"Baby," he cooed quietly into your ear. "I'm so sorry if I was too rough,"

You couldnt form any words. “Do you need anything? Some food?” You simply shook your head, lips pressing lightly against his shoulder blade to silently let him know you were fine and to cease his worrying

"I'm gonna clean you up, okay? i'll be right back," he says standing up and making his way to the bathroom.

A minute later you feel his hands on your body, damp towel rubbing to remove the tracks he had left. He was being very tender with you, like you were fragile and could break at any moment. He placed a sweet kiss to your navel and toss the towel to the side. He returned to your side and pulled you close once again.

Chan laid back against the pillows, his arm instinctively wrapping around you as you nestled close to him. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoed in your ear, a comforting reminder of his presence. You laid your head on his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall with each breath he took.

His hand found its way to your hair, fingers combing through the strands in slow, soothing motions. The tension that had gripped him all day seemed to be completely gone as he held you close, the warmth of your body against his.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet room. "I love you so much"

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your hand resting gently on his chest. "I love you too baby," you replied, your voice filled with tenderness.

A small smile curved his lips, the first genuine smile you'd seen from him all day. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as if drawing strength from your presence.

As you lay there together, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside seemed to fade away. His breathing grew steady and even, and you could feel the exhaustion giving way to a restful sleep.

ઇଓ Taglist in the comments! If you want to be removed from the taglist send me a dm!

#bang chan smut #chan smut #skz #bang chan #stray kids #chan x reader #bangchan x reader #bang chan x you #skz smut #stray kids smut #straykids #skz channie #chan #chan x you #chan x female reader #bangchan smut #smut #aftercare

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prettyg1irlstears · 6 months

Text

the pool deck (rafe cameron)

pairing: bfb!rafe

warnings: smoking, unprotected p in v sex, pool sex, breeding

you were spending the day with your best friend sarah. you were by the pool the whole day, just swimming, tanning and gossiping.

“oh no, we ran out of lemonade!” sarah says with a frown when he comes bavk from inside. “gotta go buy more.”

“i’ll wait for you” you smile while putting on sunscreen. sarah nods and you watch her disappear with her wallet in her hand.

ten minutes pass and you get a message from her: got distracted by john b. probably up to his place. sorry!

you just chuckle and shake your head. you still couldn’t believe that a kook princess would date the pogue king himself.

the sound of footsteps take you out of your thoughts and your heart skips a beat when you see their owner.

“hi ray” you smile, taking your sunglasses off to look at him and standing up from your sunbed. “how are you?”

”’sup, bunny,” rafe smirks, the nickname he gave you smoothly coming out of his mouth as he lights up a cigarette and taking a long drag. you were his favorite friend of sarah’s, always so sweet and caring, asking how his day was, all innocent.

“i’m doin’ good, how you doin’,” he blew the smoke out the corner of his mouth, watching her as she walked towards him. “you look good in that bikini.”

“thanks! i bought it last week,” you smile. and look at your bikini. “they also had a blue one but i thought this one was better.”

he chuckled at your words, flicking the ash off his cigarette “well, you have pretty good taste.” he commented, stepping closer to you, his gaze lingering on your body.

“thanks!” you smile and then look at the cigarette. you weren’t much of a smoker, but you took one when someone had them. “can i have a drag?”

hesitantly, he handed you the cigarette, his lips twitching into a smile. “sure, if you must.”

his eyes were focused on your lips, the way you suck on the filter, imagining how they would taste and feel wrapped around his dick.

rafe watched you take a long drag, your lips wrapped around the cigarette looking so tempting. he swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving you. he was getting hard. “you look hot as hell.”

“really..?” you smile shyly. you’re not used to getting attention from guys, and you’re definitely not used to comments like this. “i don’t get that often.”

his eyes roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your figure with a predatory gaze, his breath hitching as his cock hardened in his swimming pants. he coudln’t take it anymore, he reached out, grabbing your ass, squeezing it softly.

you gasp, looking up at him with a shocked and confused expression that only made him grow harder. “what are you doing, ray??”

his hand slips lower, his fingers finding the damp fabric of your bikini bottoms. he chuckles, his eyes never leaving yours. he wants you, wants to strip you naked and ravish you. “i'm going to fuck you in this pool soon.”

that takes you off guard, making you swallow as you try to talk yourself out of it. “that’s unhygienic.. i- i could get an infection or something—“ you stutter, trying to stay calm.

“you'll be the cleanest bitch in town after I finish fucking you.” rafe whispers, rubbing your butt cheeks. he was already imagining what it would feel like to have you writhing beneath him, moaning his name.

he leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. his tongue slides past your lips, exploring your mouth as his hand playfully slap your butt. if only you knew how much he wants to strip you and have you bent over the pool deck for a good, long, hard fucking.

“rafe— wait— sarah—“ you attempt to say between kisses.

his fingers dig into you hips, pulling you closer against him, his kiss turning more hungry as his arousal presses against you, his cock throbbing pants. “shut up and let me fuck you.”

you want to protest, to tell him that this is a terrible idea, that sarah will kill you when she finds out. but before you can respond, you have his fingers knuckled deep into your pussy

he devours your mouth, his tongue dancing with yours. he could feel your wetness coating his fingers and he couldn't wait to slide that sweet cunny onto his engorged cock.

you leave tiny moans and whimpers into the kiss as he fingers you, shamelessly moving your hips into his hand as your knees bend in pleasure.

he whitdraws his fingers before you can cum, a smirk on his face as he looks at you, his hands on your thighs. "get down on your knees, i wanna fuck you doggy right here.”

his eyes devouring your body as he watched you get into a kneeling position on the edge of the pool deck. he undoes his swimming pants and slides them down, revealing his big, hard and throbbing cock. “spread those legs f’me.”

you do as he says so and he positions himself behind you, his cock pressing against your wet folds. he reachs around and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling it gently as he begings to push into your tight pussy.

you gasp, your pussy gripping his cock tight. “ray..” you whimper, followed by a low groan from him.

he pulls your hair harder, causing you to let out a small whimper. "shhh, baby. i'm gonna make you cum." he begins to thrust into you, his balls slapping against your clit with each powerful thrust, your plump butt jiggling.

all you can let out are small ah ah ah sounds, and god, that could make him cum right on the spot.

he leans down and plants a kiss on your neck. "i can fucking feel your pussy clenching around me, sweet thing. you want me to fuck you harder? or do you want me to pull out and leave you wet and needy?"

“harder.. harder, ray..” you whine out, the thought of him stopping makes you wanna cry.

without missing a beat, he thrust into you harder, pounding your soaking wet pussy. the sounds of his hips slapping against your plump butt combined with your small and needy whimpers filled the air. “look at you.. taking your best friend’s brother balls deep inside you..”

your eyes roll into the back of your head, feeling the knot in your stomach threatening to burst. ”ray!” you moan out, your pussy clenching.

feeling the sensation of your tight pussy clenching around his cock as you reach your peak, he pulled your head back even further and slammed into you one last time, holding you there as he came inside you with a long grunt. "i fucking told you i was going to make you cum."

small whimpers are leaving your mouth, feeling his warm and sticky cum dump inside you and his lips attacking your neck, all while still coming down from your high.

he stayed inside you for a while, waiting until his panting calms down. after a while he gently pulled out, leaving a mess of his cum in your wrecked pussy. "there's my good girl."

even though you’re completely fucked out, you still somehow manage to get up on your knees, turn around and hug him, seeking out comfort.

feeling your small body against his, he pulled you into a tight hug, basking in the afterglow of your intense fuck session. his voice was deep and soothing as he soothed you in his arms. "come here, my little mess."

divider creds here

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #rafe x you #drew starkey #best friends brother #prettyg1rlstears #blurbs𐙚

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rynbutt · 6 months

Text

pierced. | spencer reid.

Moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ piercing, fluffyish, reader has pierced tiddies, flirting, wondering if i should do a part 2 fr

a/n: coming from a pierced nipple girly who wants a cute boy to knock on her door. also enjoy <3 and follow >:) also yay for the first thing i've posted :3

You let out an exasperated sigh as you collapsed another cardboard box.

Moving into a new apartment was fun in theory, but the practice of filtering through everything you own and finding a neat little spot for it? not so much. You took a long sip from your now cold cup of coffee before glancing across the room at the looming pile of cardboard boxes that just stood there and mocked you.

You picked up the next box of what was probably clothes and took a box cutter to the almost twenty layers of tape across the seam (it wouldn't stay closed, in retrospect you should have made up another box but you were really determined to make it fit at the time).

You ripped the rest of the tape off and put your hands on your hips, glancing at your cat Tofu on the couch.

"Care to help?" you asked... the cat. Tofu proceeded to curl into herself and begin grooming tubby belly. "I guess not."

There was an abrupt knock on your apartment door, Tofu scattering to the wind at the sudden sound. You furrowed your brows, confused as to why anyone would be knocking on your door.

You had moved here a matter of days ago, knew no one and were far too broke for doordash. You ignored it for a moment, thinking whoever resided on the other side of the door had the wrong apartment. When the knock came again, you thought you'd better answer this time.

You opened the door ajar, just in case it was someone who wanted to steal any of the maybe four things you'd managed to unpack. A tall darker skinned man looked down at you, "Yes?"

"Hi ma'am, I'm Agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid, we're with the FBI," he introduced himself, holding up his credentials for you to peek at. You opened the door the rest of the way, glancing at the second tall man standing in your door way. He had messy hair just below his ears and was wearing a collared shirt with two black pens tucked into the pocket over his chest, he was cute. He pulled his lips into a tight line and held his hand up in a wave.

Spencer's eyes glanced down your body briefly. He has certainly seen some strange outfits when people answer their doors but none that made his skin run hot like this.

You wore a baby blue tank top and grey adidas shorts, he could see a small sliver of skin between your two garments but that's not what caught his eye. You had your nipples pierced.

Now, Spencer really didn't mean to stare but they were right there. The air of your apartment was clearly chilly given how your nipples pressed against the fabric. He could see the little studs on either side of your hardened nipples and he felt like a Victorian boy seeing an ankle for the first time.

"Oh no, you found me," you joked, laughing at yourself lightly. They didn't laugh. Your smile dropped, "I'm joking. Uh, come in, please." You stood aside, letting the two men into your basically bare apartment.

"Just move in?" Morgan asked, looking around your small living room.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm starting a new job in a week," You replied, trying to make small talk. "What exactly are you here for?"

"There was a murder in the apartment across from yours," Dr. Reid said abruptly, stealing the air from your lungs.

Your eyes were blown wide, "What?"

"Young woman like you, stabbed to death-"

"Reid," Morgan warned, shaking his head softly at the younger man.

"Shit, that sucks," you replied, glancing between the two men. "I assume you're talking to me because I live close by, huh?"

"It's just procedure," Morgan replied. "Can you tell me where you were around 11pm last night?"

"Uh, yeah. I was here, I had a lot to unpack, you know?" You replied honestly, wondering how you didn't hear that someone was being murdered across the hall.

"And you didn't hear anything?" Morgan asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stood to face you.

"No, no I honestly didn't. I had my headphones on while I was unpacking, I went to bed around midnight." Were you incriminating yourself? Maybe you should make some friends so you don't get caught up in this kind of stuff.

"The UnSub we're looking for is white male, mid 20s to 30s, seems out of place. Have you seen anyone like that around?" Dr. Reid asked.

"No, I mean, I just moved here, I don't know anyone. I haven't left my apartment since I got here," you replied, looking Dr. Reid in the eye. You caught him glancing down at your boobs for a moment before he caught himself, clearing his throat.

It was only then that you realised what you were wearing. Fuck. Two FBI agents, one of whom was your type to a T came to question you about a murder and your nipples were gazing upon the world like a deer in headlights.

You quickly crossed your arms across your chest before scampering across the room to grab your hoodie off your couch. You pulled it over your head before staring at the two men awkwardly, your skin feeling hot.

"I'm sorry about... my attire, I didn't even-"

Morgan smiled, chucking softly, "Please, this is your home, sweetheart." Morgan glanced at Spencer, who suddenly found the ceiling utterly fascinating. "You mind if I have a look around? We suspect he used the fire escape."

"Of course, yeah. You can see it from the bedroom," you replied, being left alone with the cute doctor. "You seem young to be a doctor," you said softly, trying to make small talk.

"Scarring, tearing and nerve damage is possible when you get your," he coughed, "nipples pierced... infections and bleeding are also common," he quickly said, lips pulled into a tight line.

"Mm, cute and smart... well, I've had them for five years so... I think I'm safe, Dr. Reid," you replied with a chuckle.

"Spencer," he muttered.

"Huh?"

"Spencer, it's my name. Spencer Reid," he said, hands clutched tightly around the strap of his leather satchel.

"Spencer," you smiled, "I'm Y/N."

"Well, we better get out of your hair," Morgan returned from your room, glancing between you and Spencer for a moment. "Let's go, Reid."

You opened the door for them, Morgan thanked you as he left and started down the hall to the elevator. Spencer paused for a moment, glancing at you for briefly before walking out the door.

"Hey," you called softly. Spencer spun around to look at you and you definitely couldn't let him escape without your number. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Uh, girlfriend? I, uhm-"

"He doesn't!" Morgan called from down the hall, making you smile.

"You don't know that!" Spencer retorted, making a face at Morgan who was grinning.

"So... you do?" You asked.

"...No, I don't." He muttered.

"Okay, well," you laughed, plucking the pen from the pocket of Spencer's shirt. "Call me sometime," you scribbled your name and number with a little heart onto a scrap piece of paper that once wrapped your toaster.

"Yes... Okay, I will," he replied nervously, holding your number in his hands gently. He glanced at it, a smile beaming across his handsome face.

"You, uh, might wanna go before your partner loses it," you giggled after a beat. Spencer muttered a quick 'oh' before walking quickly toward the elevators.

"Bye," Spencer said softly, waving at you with a little smile.

"Bye, Dr. Reid!"

Spencer stepped into the elevator with Morgan, the silence palpable in the tiny mental container.

"'Bye, Dr. Reid~'," Morgan raised his voice an octave, planning to tease Spencer relentlessly and text the group chat as soon as they got to the car.

"Shut up!"

reblog and follow me :3 also come chat, i love to yap.

dividers by @cafekitsune

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dr reid #spencer reid #fluff #spencer reid fluff #x reader #criminal minds x reader #derek morgan #spencer fluff #dr spencer reid x reader #reid #criminal minds spencer

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undressrehearsal · 6 months

Text

dare to fuck this up

summary: ever since your last game of truth or dare ellie's been avoiding you and it's time for an intervention

tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs and alcohol (not used), oral (e receiving), fingering (r receiving), finger riding (r receiving), little bit of angst, afab reader, the knee thing

a/n: this took me 2 months cause i work full time and it's 10k words so. enjoy (thank u for all the love on part 1! <3) also for anyone who doesn't know the tiktok dance i mentioned i linked it. don't look under the sound you'll spend way too long watching hot women dance

part 1

You hadn't talked about it.

You had woken up the next morning, the sun blinding you from the window that was still left open. A cold autumn breeze ruffled your curtains, pricking at your bare skin. With one foot still in a dream, you'd groaned, turning over and pulling your blanket over your head. You had burrowed your head into your pillow - it still smelled earthy, rich with cologne and the faintest smell of weed. It had made your nose wrinkle only briefly, before you had reached out, searching for the warmth of another body - but your fingers only landed on the sheets, now cool to the touch.

You sat up with a gasp, the blanket pooling around your lap. But you had fallen asleep on top of your blankets, hadn't you?

The comforter was laid neatly over you, the pillows on the other side of the bed propped against your headboard, unbothered. The sun was streaming through the window, filtering through your curtains and shining in splatters of light against your own bare skin. Your small room was deafeningly quiet.

That had been three weeks ago.

For three weeks, Ellie avoided you. You hadn't seen her when you left to take your exam that morning. By the time you got home - after classes and after your part-time job - it was dark. The door to her bedroom was firmly shut, the muffled sound of music leaking into the living room - you wanted to smile when you realized she was listening to that song you had recommended. You thought about knocking on her door; not even to talk about what happened, really, but just because she was your best friend. Instead, you ate leftover takeout - cold because you were too tired to microwave it - and went to bed. You could hear her quietly singing to the music through your flimsy wall, falling asleep listening to her voice.

At first, you honestly thought you had dreamed it. You thought maybe you had fallen asleep, sleep deprivation and vodka drawing out this fantasy in your dreams to torment you when you woke. But when you looked in the mirror, the bruises were still there. You ran your fingertips across the one on your collarbone, pressing at the one left behind your ear; you could still feel the warmth of Ellie's mouth against your skin, her teeth grazing across your hips. The phantom feeling still sent a shiver down your spine, heat creeping in your stomach.

Ellie was trying her best to avoid you, but she still lived with you. After three days of not speaking, you resorted to a different approach. She didn't seem to have any plan to speak with you anytime soon - certainly not about what happened - so you let your body do the talking. You began wearing primarily v-necks and tank tops - ignoring the fact that it was still fall - simply to broadcast the line of lovebites she had left, her signature written all over your skin. They had faded slightly, but the purplish bruises still blossomed along your collar. You began wearing shorts around, short enough to show the bruise on your thigh; you let the fabric sit low enough to show the one at your hip, a pretty blend of colors that made you ache. The few times you did see her - when she was scavenging for food in the kitchen or right when she got home, before she could scurry away back to her room - you could feel her eyes lingering on you, gaze like a brand against your skin, burning all the spots she had marked.

And she would hurry back to her room, locking the door behind her.

Fine.

If she refused to talk about it, you thought, you'd just have to make her.

Which is why, three weeks after your original game - three weeks after that stupid fucking night - you bought a new bottle of vodka (by the time you had found the old one, it had spilled the last of its contents into your rug. Your room still smelled of it). When you got home, Ellie’s door was shut, just as it had been every day for three weeks. You kicked off your boots, leaving them in a pile in the hall, and knocked on her door.

“Sorry, I’m busy,” she called - just as she had every day for three weeks.

You pursed your lips and knocked again, harder.

“I’m busy!” she called again, her voice hard. It might have stung if you didn’t know her so well.

So, you knocked again. And kept knocking, a steady, continuous rhythm that echoed against the walls. You heard Ellie curse under her breath, could hear the scrape of her chair and her footsteps, and you kept knocking. You didn’t stop - didn’t even slow - until she opened the door in a huff, your hand falling against open air.

“What the hell are you-”

You shoved the bottle of vodka against her chest, cutting her off. She gripped it hastily before it could shatter against the floor.

She looked frazzled. You had seen her during several exam seasons, during harrowing projects and infuriating essays. You had seen her in the hospital, two years ago, after breaking her leg skateboarding to work. But there was something in the way her hair was disheveled, sticking up at odd angles as though she had been running her fingers through it over and over and over again. There were bags under her eyes, purplish splotches like watercolor.

And her eyes…. Her eyes were completely shattered.

So you hesitated - briefly, just long enough for her to see the stutter on your lips - before you said, “Truth or dare?”

And the game began.

Ellie looked at you, staring for several moments that stretched into infinity. You wanted to grasp it, to wrap your fingers around that stretched thread of a moment and hold it there where it couldn't hurt either of you. You weren't ready to let it go. But Ellie was looking at you with those broken eyes, and before you could say or do anything - before you caved and took the bottle back, fleeing back to the safety of your own room - the thread snapped.

Ellie shook her head - and kept shaking it, as if doing so would rid her of this… whatever this was. “No,” she murmured, avoiding your eyes as her grip around the bottle’s neck tightened. “No, I’m not doing this. I’m busy, okay? I have an exam tomorrow-”

She moved to close the door - shutting it right in your face - but you kicked your foot out to stop it.

“When somebody asks the question,” you said, reciting the stupid little agreement you both had written out two years ago, the night you established this tradition, “you have to play the game to its conclusion; when you run out of questions or pass out from alcohol poisoning. Those are the rules, El. Remember?”

And still, she just looked at you, her brow furrowed like you were an equation she couldn’t solve - couldn’t even read, really. Her knuckles were white around the bottle’s neck, and when you looked down, her hands were shaking. You wanted more than anything to put your hands over hers, to still them - to bring those hands to your lips and kiss the white knuckles until she released her fists. Instead, you dug your nails into your thighs.

You watched as Ellie took a deep, steadying breath, clenching her fists tighter before releasing the tension, her fingers relaxing around the bottle; her hands stopped trembling. She smiled at you, but it was tight, her eyes empty of their usual mischief. “Alright,” she said, and her voice was just as tight as her fists had been moments ago - the tension not gone, only transferred. “Okay, I’ll play. But you only get an hour - I really do need to study.”

Ellie’s bedroom was the same layout as yours, only flipped, the two a mirror of each other. Strings of lights hung crookedly along the walls, the bulbs casting a soft, warm glow amongst the room, the same hazy hue of a dream. An easel leaned in one corner, a canvas propped against it; there were only the barest scribbles of an outline, incomprehensible to you. You thought it may be a profile, the gentle slope of a nose and soft lips sketched in pencil, but you weren’t sure.

You ran your fingers over her desk as you passed; it was in absolute disarray. Two different astronomy textbooks lay open, covered in highlighter markings and Ellie’s sloping writing in the margins. There were three different cups on the surface in varying levels of full: a mug half full of coffee, still steaming; a glass of water that was completely full, untouched; and a cup filled with murky, grey liquid. A few paintbrushes had been left to sit in that one, and in large writing along the cup was written PAINT DO NOT DRINK. You almost laughed, remembering all the times you had watched your roommate spit water out after she had picked up the wrong cup.

It felt strange when you sat gingerly on her bed. You had sat in this spot so many times before, more than you could count. You had spent so much time lounging on this bed, your laptop open in front of you while Ellie worked at her desk - on homework or her latest painting or nothing at all. There were days laid out before you where you both at lain in a crumbled heap, eating takeout on top of the covers because Ellie didn't give a shit about crumbs, an open laptop playing whatever horror movie she wanted to show you (she was always more scared than you, hiding her face in your shoulder). God knows how many truth or dare games you had played in this room, a bottle of alcohol passing between shaking fingers. When Ellie bought it, it was cheap whiskey and you hated it; you drank it anyway.

Now, sitting on her bed - carefully, as though you thought it might break - your skin felt aflame, a fire burning in your muscles. When you ran your fingers over the messy sheets, you could only remember how it had felt to have your fingers clutching the ones on your own bed.

Ellie sat at her desk across from you, folding herself so that she had one foot propped up on the chair with her, her knee folded to her chest; her other foot tapped anxiously against the floor. She was looking at you, her face strategically neutral, but it was like she was looking through you; her eyes kept shifting away, unable or unwilling to settle on you. Her voice gave nothing away when she said, looking at a spot above your shoulder, “Dare.”

You sighed, feeling the questions wanting to claw their way from your throat with nowhere to go. You knew what you wanted her to do - what you wanted to dare her to do - but the words would only cause her to withdraw further. You felt like you had to approach Ellie as if she were a scared animal, ready to flee at the first sight of danger.

Wracking your brain for something mild, you said, “Try to recreate one of those dumb popular TikTok dances.”

You didn't miss how Ellie's shoulders relaxed, her hands noticeably unclenching. She looked at you and it was almost like nothing had happened; like she hadn’t been avoiding you for three entire weeks, becoming a ghost in your apartment. Like you both hadn’t made what had obviously been a drunken mistake.

The beginning of a smirk tugged at her lips as she dug in her back pocket for her phone - its case had an astronaut on it, because of course it did. The screen illuminated her face, flashes reflecting minutely in her eyes as she scrolled. She bit her lip absently - she often did when she was thinking. You tried not to stare and failed miserably.

“This’ll be easy,” she muttered to herself, half laughing. She scrolled through a few videos, and she had the volume down on her phone, but you could still recognize the song that kept playing on repeat; you were going to fucking die.

There were several minutes of quiet, only the music playing from Ellie’s phone. With nothing to do but wait, you brought your legs up onto the bed, tucking them under you; your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the stack of paintings by her desk, both finished and unfinished. The figurine she had of Kassandra from Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey had toppled on her desk, her spear falling in a glob of paint, the tip smudged bright yellow. You investigated the posters she had hung up of her favorite bands - almost all of them with female singers; she had a very specific taste. On her nightstand, in a frame made of macaroni, there was a picture of her and her dad, taken at the zoo when she was quite a bit younger, the blurry image of a giraffe in the background. She was holding up a peace sign, smiling so wide her eyes were practically shut.

You turned back when Ellie stood up from her chair, placing her phone on her desk. Shoving her hands in her hair, she said, “Can’t promise this’ll be anything amazing, but you get what you paid for.” Even as she said it, she was smirking, a dangerous twinkle in her eye.

You watched as she rummaged in her closet, shoving aside probably half a dozen flannels and at least 10 different band t-shirts. She rummaged through a bucket with a few beanies in different colors, and you couldn’t see her face, but you already knew she would be wrinkling her nose like she always did when she was getting frustrated.

You jumped, startled, when she suddenly exclaimed, pulling her head from her closet and turning to you with a triumphant grin. She held a black belt in her fist, holding it up like a trophy.

You shook your head at her, even as your throat closed up with anticipation. “If it took you that long to find one, it’s no wonder your pants are always hanging from your fucking ass.”

“Hey,” she said, picking up her phone again and looking at you with mock offense; she was still smirking. “I don’t exactly hear you complaining when my ass is out.”

You heard the stutter, heard the way her breath caught after she said the words. It was so stupid - a stupid little remark that she would have made any other day three weeks ago. She wouldn’t have even thought about it, wouldn’t have batted an eye. You would have rolled your eyes and said something mean in response - something like, “I save my complaints for when I see your face instead.” You would have laughed and then watched a fucking movie or something.

Instead, Ellie only coughed awkwardly, ducking her head to fiddle with her phone. In the dim light, you could see the flush of her cheeks behind her bangs. You looked anywhere but at her, your eyes darting around to find something to focus on that wasn’t how pretty she looked when she was flushed pink - how pretty she looked with her cheeks red from alcohol and exertion, her lips shining wetly -

Your brain short-circuited when Ellie started the music - only the bite-sized sample that was trending on TikTok. She set her phone on her desk and took a deep breath, waiting for the song to loop again as she positioned the belt by her hips. She didn’t look at you, instead casting her eyes to the ceiling and muttering, “This is gonna be so stupid.”

When the music looped again, you were forced to watch as Ellie thrust her hips to the beat, pulling the belt slowly away from her hips. When she brought it up to wrap the piece of leather around her neck, pulling it taut, you were surely convinced you must be paying for some sort of crime, that this was your eternal torture. Her movements were janky, stuttering and unsure and off-beat - she had only watched the videos for a few minutes and was relying solely on memory to guide her limbs. When she tried to tie her wrists into the belt, she got stuck, her hands ending up in a knotted mess. Still, her eyes met yours when she raised her bound hands above her head - coincidentally or purposefully - and you couldn’t look away.

This was definitely Hell. It had to be.

When the song started to loop again, Ellie hastily tried to pull her hands from the knot. The belt clattered to the floor, abandoned, as she scooped her phone up, fumbling with the buttons to cut off the music. She nearly dropped her phone in her haste.

When the room was silent again, Ellie sat back down at her desk. Last time you had played, you had asked her to do something ridiculous for her first dare, and she had grinned with pride, practically preening. Now, she wasn't smiling; she hardly even looked at you, fiddling with one of the many paintbrushes on her desk. You compartmentalized the image of her thrusting her hips with her hands bound over her head, saving it for later. You always did torture yourself with these things.

Ellie was looking at that same spot over your shoulder when she said, “Truth or dare?” She sounded pained, her words strained against some invisible weight. It was like your very presence in her room - on her bed - pained her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave and give her relief.

“Truth,” you said, hoping against hope that she would ask you fucking anything about that night three weeks ago.

But she had never been that easy. Ellie had never been one to give you straight answers and she wasn’t about to start now - especially not now. So instead of saying anything - asking anything - about that night that she seemed keen on forgetting, she asked, “What’s the worst first date you’ve been on?” Before you could protest that you always told her about your worst dates, she added, “One I haven’t heard before.”

So for the span of one question, you let yourself believe that you were still talking to your best friend. That she hadn’t been avoiding you for three fucking weeks and this was only your typical truth or dare game in between studying. You believed that you were simply gossiping with Ellie, who had been your best friend for several years and nothing more. In the space of one question, you let yourself believe that this was still only a game and not an intervention.

So, in the spirit of pretend, you thought for a moment, rifling through the index of all the shitty dates you’ve been on. Ellie had already heard most of them, had been there whenever you came back home; she was there whether you were heartbroken or relieved that you wouldn’t see the person again. There were a few times where you had come home laughing, and she had passed you a joint as you told her all about the horrible date - you would take twice as long to tell the story because you couldn’t stop laughing.

Finally, you said, “Okay, this was before we came to college. We weren’t close enough friends in high school for me to tell you, so I don’t think you’ve heard this one before. Stop me if I’m wrong.” She waved her hand for you to continue, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “I had just graduated high school so I was dating around before I left for college - nothing serious, just casually looking around.”

“Window shopping,” she interrupted you with a grin - that same easy grin she always had with you. Your heart tugged embarrassingly at seeing it again.

You swallowed the lump and continued, “Yeah. So, I went on a date with this guy - he was some friend of a friend’s, I didn’t know much about him. We went out to dinner at some local dive bar - which was already fucking weird because, like I said, I had just graduated high school.”

“Was this guy a fucking cradle robber?” Ellie said, wrinkling her nose.

You shook your head. “He may as well have been. He was either 21 or he was just really good friends with the bartender because as soon as he came in, he got two beers - the cheap shit, too. It tasted like musty ass.” Your stomach twisted when she laughed. “So we sit at a booth and I finally get a second to really look at him.” You leaned forward, bracing your hand on the bed so you wouldn’t fall, and made sure she was looking right at you when you said, “And this motherfucker was wearing a shirt that said Black Rifles Matter.”

You reveled in the way Ellie’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening. Her lip turned up in disgust, and the only thing she could say was, “No.”

You grinned, nodding, and you had to focus really hard to not start laughing. “Yes. And I rolled up to this dive bar, fresh out of the womb, with bright pink hair freshly dyed and a crop top that literally said Femme on it in bright pink letters - which, okay, maybe not the choice to wear on a first date with a straight guy, but still. I was in this booth with a baby face looking every bit as queer as I am, and this fucking dude with a patchy mustache and a shirt that has more problems than I care to admit opens up by telling me he doesn’t like when girls dye their hair.”

Ellie was rolling her eyes, on the edge of her seat. She leaned closer as you continued, “But fine, whatever, everybody has preferences I guess. But this guy gets three beers in, and he’s already been talking about weird shit - conspiracy theories and telling me how kids today are too soft - one of those fucking guys, right? But then he stops,” you hold up your hands for emphasis, leaning even closer, “and he leans into me over the table, and he looks me straight in the eye - you wanna know what he said?”

Ellie groaned. “Tell me he didn’t ask who you voted for or some shit.”

You barked out a laugh; it echoed on the walls. “God, I wish. No, this bitch looks me dead in the eyes, his breath reeking of bad beer, and he says, ‘Are you on your period? I have this weird talent for smelling when girls are on their period.’”

You watched, delighted, as Ellie slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a choked gasp. “No!”

You couldn’t stop laughing, pressing your hand to your stomach as you fell back against the sheets. Her laugh filled the room like helium, making everything feel lighter - easier. Even now, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was being around Ellie. And for a moment, you did forget what had happened. You forgot about the string pulled taut between you waiting to snap. You forgot that this was anything more than simply another dumb game of truth or dare.

Until you looked up and saw the press of Ellie’s lips again, the way her eyes darted away, and you could feel yourself sinking again.

And that’s how the hour went. Ellie - infuriating Ellie - did every single dare you asked of her. She did a handstand for a minute straight, her face turning so red you thought she might pass out. She called the local pizza place you often ordered from and asked for one hundred sardine pizzas, laughing when the poor teenage boy on the other line started stuttering. Last time, she didn’t take all the liquid in the fridge and make a nauseating cocktail; but this time, she did go and find four different liquids of her choosing - apple juice, almond milk, an old flat Dr. Pepper, and the remaining vinegar in a Kimchi jar - and downed it in front of you. She tried her hardest to hold a straight face, but only ended up scrunching her eyes closed, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle a gag. She never chose truth.

For your part, you never chose dare. You answered every pressing, embarrassing question she asked, ignoring the flush to your cheeks. You told her the most absurd dealbreaker for a relationship. (“What do you mean you’ll break up with someone if they don’t like garlic?” Ellie asked, smiling even as she shook her head.”) You went through the original Wiggles band and said which you would fuck, marry, or kill (“There are four of them! Do I choose to have a threesome?”)

And you waited. Each time you chose truth, you held your breath. You watched Ellie mull it over, her eyes darting around as she thought, and prayed that she would just ask you something. You knew it was an unrealistic wish, but you still watched her lips and hoped against hope that she would give you some kind of acknowledgement that this wasn’t all for nothing. You just wanted her to stop being such a pussy and fucking talk about what happened.

But the clock kept ticking.

After about an hour had passed, Ellie looked at her phone and sighed, standing up. “Okay, I really have to get back to studying. I have this dumb astrophysics exam tomorrow and I can’t wrap my fucking head around this shit, so I have to -”

“One more,” you cut her off, standing up from the bed. You followed her as she walked to the door, one step behind her when she put a hand on the doorknob. She paused, her hand frozen there as she looked at you - actually looked at you, not through you. It was only a moment, but it was there; you could feel the way her eyes had branded your skin even after she’d looked away. Your voice was rushed, breathless when you added, “We haven’t even opened the bottle, so what’s one more? Just for fun.”

Ellie looked behind you, back at the vodka bottle on her desk with the seal still intact. She sighed, but she never could say no to you.

“Fine,” she said, and her voice was so quiet in the dark room; the word felt like a secret between you, soft against the tension stretched thin. “One more.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You tried to sound casual - you really did - but when you spoke, you found you couldn’t speak any louder than a whisper, afraid to disturb the air around you. You ducked your head, trying to meet her eyes when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?”

She looked at you, meeting your eyes, and she seemed to deflate, sighing out a breath that ruffled your hair - you hadn’t realized how close you were. Her breath smelled of canned ravioli and weed; it was almost enough to make you laugh.

Ellie took a step back, clearing her throat, and answered for one last time, “Dare.” Because she was too afraid of the fucking truth.

And fuck it if your heart didn’t stutter in your chest. You felt your fingertips buzzing, your stomach twisting nauseatingly. You felt like you were going to be sick, but you forced yourself to look up at her. You squared your shoulders, feeling like you were preparing for fucking battle, and said, the words familiar on your tongue, “Kiss me.”

A moment of silence passed, the words suspended between you. They were tangible, and part of you still wanted to snatch them back - to swallow them and leave, to pretend this never happened - but you didn’t. You held them out to Ellie - you weren’t sure if they were a threat or an offering.

Ellie didn’t recoil, and you weren’t sure if that was more insulting. She looked at you for a long moment before turning away, shaking her head and turning the doorknob. “I really need to study, okay? I don’t have time for thi-”

You put your hand against the door, holding it there so she couldn’t open it. Your stomach was a mess, tying itself into knots that you would never be able to undo. And you knew - you were far too aware - that this could ruin everything. It could drive her further away, pushing her further into this little cocoon she was hiding in. Ellie might hate you for it.

But this was too important to ignore.

“Kiss me, Ellie,” you said again, and you could feel the bite of it on your own tongue. When you had said it three weeks ago, you had been so unsure. It had been a rush of words on a breath, tinged with alcohol and desperation. The words had been so careless, a sober idea that had made its way from your drunken mouth.

Now, Ellie was the one who couldn’t look at you. She stared at the spot where your hand pressed to the door, willing you to let go. Her knuckles were white around the doorknob. Her voice was a rumble that you felt in your chest when she said, “I need you to leave. Please.” That last word - please - made your heart break.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and said, “No.”

Ellie finally turned her whole body towards you, but she was wearing a mask; she had schooled her face into a mockery of nonchalance, her eyebrows raised expectantly as she watched you. She crossed her arms, leaning against her hip, and watched you with measured expectancy, shaking her head. She shrugged and said, “What do you want? I really need to study.”

And it was the lack of care that broke you.

You slapped your hand against the door in frustration, feeling the sting in your palm, disappointed when Ellie didn’t so much as jump. You shook your head at her, and you were so fucking angry you could feel tears stinging at your eyes. You blinked them away and snapped, “What’s your fucking problem?”

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth opening in indignant shock. “What’s my problem?”

“Yeah,” you cut her off before she could even continue. “What’s your fucking problem? You know what happened - what we did - but ever since that night you have been so determined to act like it never happened. You haven’t even talked to me in three fucking week, Ellie!” She closed her eyes when your voice broke on her name. “You’ve hardly looked at me all night. And look,” you sniffled, feeling some of the fire in you die down, “if you regret it - if you want to act like it never happened and go back to how things were before, I get it, okay? But can you at least have the balls to fucking tell me?”

Your voice echoed off the silent walls, filling the space between you until you couldn’t breathe. You wiped a hand roughly over your face; your cheeks burned and you hated yourself for it. The room was so quiet you feared Ellie could hear the sound of your racing heart.

It felt like hours before Ellie spoke; her voice was so heartbreakingly quiet, tip toeing on eggshells that were already broken. “I don’t regret it.”

You huffed out a breath, shaking your head as she still wouldn’t meet your eyes. She couldn’t even look at you. When you took a step closer, you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, could feel the warmth in your chest. Your voice had lost its fire, your throat cold and raw and broken. You could only murmur, “Then kiss me again, Els. What are you so afraid of?”

“You,” she snapped. You jumped, taking a step back; your heart lurched when she finally looked at you. Those shattered eyes were watching you, so open and vulnerable you wanted to look away. You forced yourself to watch, to bear witness to it when she shook her head, blinking tears from her eyes. Ellie pressed her lips together, blinking several times before releasing her held breath. She held your gaze like it was a lifeline and said, “I’m scared of you.”

And just for a moment - so filled with silence it might pop - you saw it. You saw how Ellie had run from you like an injured animal, hiding away. You saw the way her hands shook around her biceps. You saw the way she bit her lip to keep it from quivering.

You shook your head, feeling so incredibly small underneath those eyes that had avoided you all night; now they were vividly, overwhelmingly focused, broken in the hazy light and so green it was dizzying (and you couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol this time). You didn’t recognize your own voice, so small and vulnerable that the words themselves ached: “How can I fix this, Els? You want me to-” You huffed out a heavy breath, choking on your own voice. “Do you want me to act like it didn’t happen? Do you want me to leave you alone? I’ll do whatever you want, Ellie, I just… fuck. I just want my best friend back. So just… tell me what I did wrong.”

You jumped when Ellie barked out a laugh, so dry it cracked. It may have been a trick of the light, the soft string lights making everything feel unreal, but when she looked at you again, she went impossibly soft.

“You,” she said, so softly it ached, “haven't done anything wrong.” She sighed, leaning back against the wall; it was like all the fight suddenly drained from her, her shoulders sagging against the weight of three weeks. She looked away, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks, and said, quiet as a confession, “You were drunk.”

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head. “What?”

Ellie ran a hand through her hair, making it even more disheveled. Pathetically, you wanted to fix it; you knew how soft the strands would be under your fingers.

“You were drunk,” she repeated, as though it pained her; as though it explained everything. Her voice broke, the shattered pieces falling at your feet. “And I…. Fuck, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have… forced myself on you.” She heaved in a shaky breath, her words tumbling from her, broken glass cutting her throat, leaving it raw. “I couldn’t even… wait for you to wake up after. I just fucking ran - I couldn’t even look at you, and that’s even shittier! And for three weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out how to fucking talk to you when I know that we - that I shouldn’t have done that.”

Ellie pressed her hand to her mouth, taking in a shaking breath - her entire body was trembling as she fought to hold it all in. She looked ready to burst, struggling to take in a deep breath. You reached out to grab her hand - to hold her together - but she flinched away.

“I don’t-” you started, unable to find the words. You watched your best friend dissolve, and you couldn’t seem to fit all her pieces back together. “Ellie… Els, are you saying you’re avoiding me because - because you thought you took advantage of me.” The words tasted ridiculous on your tongue, a foreign object.

Ellie was shaking her head wildly, her hands balled into fists. “You were drunk!” she repeated, like a mantra. She pressed a hand to her chest as though to keep everything in. “You were drunk, and you kept telling me no, and I just… pushed. I pushed and I didn’t know when to stop and, fuck, I still can’t believe I did that and I didn’t even have the fucking balls to face you or even tell you I’m sorry, and-”

“Ellie.” You reached out and grabbed her wrist, cutting off her rambling; she flinched again but didn’t pull away. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable and so impossibly green. “For one, do I need to remind you we were both drunk. And that I was the one who told you to kiss me?”

She watched you carefully, guarded; her bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss it again more than anything. She took in a deep, shaky breath, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks; they mixed with her freckles like watercolor. “You kept telling me to stop - to leave it alone. And I didn’t listen.”

“Els, I told you to stop because I was scared,” you admitted in a rush. Before she could respond, you continued, “Not of you. I was scared of how badly I wanted you, okay? And that’s fucking embarrassing to admit, but I’m saying it so you know it wasn’t your fault. I was scared because… fuck.” You scrubbed a hand over your face, feeling tears on your own cheeks. “Because you’re my best friend. And I knew that, as much as I wanted it, it could fuck everything up. But I didn’t want you to stop.”

She shook her head. Her voice was raw when she said, “You couldn’t fuck anything up. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Neither did you,” you practically shouted. “Ellie, I asked you to kiss me! Yeah, I had a few shots that night, but I knew what I was doing. You asked me how long I’ve wanted it - what did I say, Els? Tell me.”

Ellie looked up at you, her cheeks splotchy from crying; she let you slip your hand into hers anyway. “A long fucking time.” It was no more than a whisper.

“Yeah,” you said, gripping her hand to keep her grounded. “Not just when I was drunk. Not just when it was late. And definitely not just when you wanted it too. I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time, Els.”

Ellie watched you, studying you like you were an equation she couldn’t figure out (she really needed to study for that astrophysics exam). She pursed her lips, nodding slowly, rubbing roughly at her damp cheeks. “Yeah.” Her voice broke again; she cleared her throat. “Yeah. Me too.”

You took a step towards her; her body was so warm it was dizzying. You could hear her breath catch when you reached up and pressed your palm to her cheek.

“What do we do now?”

When she sighed, you could feel it on your lips. You felt the warmth of her hand at your waist, a steady anchor. “Like you said,” she murmured, her gaze soft; she reached up to brush your hair from your face, her fingers grazing the side of your neck. “This could fuck everything up.”

Your heart lurched; you swallowed it back down so it could throw a fit right next to your twisted stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered, afraid to break the spell that made Ellie’s eyes watch the way your lips moved, captivated. “But….”

“But,” Ellie repeated, leaning in so her nose brushed against yours; it was cold against your skin.

You hardly had to move to kiss her, tilting your chin up to finally kiss that pouty bottom lip you had been staring at. You heard her breath catch again, her fingers pressing at your waist, drawing you closer so the warmth of her pressed against you. After three fucking weeks, you hadn’t forgotten how her lips felt against yours. It was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time; you were dizzy with the way she moved her mouth against yours, warmth spreading through your chest.

Ellie broke away from you, but she didn’t stray far; she pressed her forehead to yours, and you could see that her eyes were still closed, her brow furrowed. She sounded impossibly small when she said, “Are you sure about this? I mean, what-”

“Ellie,” you interrupted; you twisted your fingers into her short hair and tugged lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from her lips. “Just shut up for once, okay?”

You hardly even heard her replied Okay before her mouth was on yours again. Last time she had kissed you, you had felt lightheaded, floating with the weight of alcohol in your veins. Each press of her hands on you had felt unreal and distant, like she was touching you in a dream.

Tonight, the vodka bottle sat unopened and forgotten on her desk, and Ellie was pressing against you with a sharp realness that made your breath stutter in your throat. When her fingers ran along your jaw, cupping your face and tugging you closer, they were lightning against your skin. She had the welcoming warmth of a bonfire, and you were like a fucking moth drawn to her.

Ellie took a hesitant step forward, pressing you back, moving so slowly as though she thought you’d push her away. You let her push you backwards - encouraged her, really, entwining your arms around her neck and tugging her with you. You stumbled on the last few steps, practically falling back against the wall; Ellie braced her hands on either side of you to keep herself up, laughing into your mouth. You wanted to swallow the sound, to take it into your chest where it could curl up right next to your heart.

The wall was cold against your back, but Ellie was quick to chase it away; her warm hands ran up your back, rucking up your shirt and scratching her nails lightly over your skin until you shivered. She was so gentle with you this time, running her fingers over your skin with such careful deliberation, as though each kiss and each caress was meticulously planned out.

It was with this painstaking consideration that she lifted your shirt, pooling it around your chest; you raised your arms so she could pull it over your head.

Ellie snickered, snapping the strap of your bra against your skin. “This is new.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, batting her hand away. It was one of your nicer ones, and you couldn't tell her that, embarrassingly, you had worn it on purpose with the hopeless thought of just in case. “Sorry I’m not in my pajamas. I’ll be sure to fix that next time.”

She grinned, ducking her head to press a kiss to your jaw. She hummed against your skin, “No, I like it.”

You didn’t talk about the implication of what you had said - next time. But the way she kissed her way across your jaw, her teeth grazing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine, promised a next time. As Ellie’s tongue darted out to lick along your pulse, you could feel the words in the breathy sigh that escaped your lips. When she ducked her head to bite at your collar, she branded the words into your skin.

“You’re such an asshole,” she said, her laughter warm against your skin. She pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone; the bruise had long faded, but the phantom ache was still there. You could feel her smile when your breath hitched. “Just had these on full display. Drove me insane.”

You huffed out a laugh that stuttered when she pressed a kiss at the edge of your bra. “I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?”

Ellie lifted her head to meet your eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper, her breath brushing your lips when she said, “You’re crazy if you think you’ve ever not had my attention.”

When she kissed you again, it was with a new fire that burned bright in your chest. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer so that you could feel her body against every inch of you. Her fingers dipped below the waist of your pants, pressing at the soft skin there. You felt her tongue press against your lips; when she ran it along the room of your mouth, she swallowed your moan.

Ellie hummed against your lips, pressing you firmly into the wall and shoving a knee between your legs. You gasped at the sudden friction, heat pooling in your stomach when Ellie gripped your hips and pulled you closer, grinding against her sweatpants-covered leg. Her lips brushed against your ear and she murmured, “Tell me to stop and I'll stop.”

She had said those same words last time, pressed drunkenly into your skin. There was an affirmation hidden somewhere underneath: Do you still want me? Before, they had been slurred, like a sloppy kiss against your lips. Now, her hands steady against your hips, her body warm from something other than vodka, it was whispered like a promise.

You answered by pressing your hands to her chest; she didn’t fight you as you pushed her away, didn’t hesitate as you walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit her bed. She let herself fall backwards, but she wrapped her arms around your waist as she did so. You fell into a crumpled heap on top of her, knocking the air from both of your lungs, and you could feel her laughter against your neck.

Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you glared down at her; she only answered it with a grin, lifting herself just enough to kiss you briefly. You couldn’t suppress your own smile when you said, “You’re infuriating.”

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. She hooked her fingers in your belt loops and gave them a tug as she said, “Yeah, get used to that.”

You kissed her again to hide your smile. You didn’t talk about the inclination of that either.

Growing impatient, you swung your legs on either side of her, sitting up and straddling her hips. Ellie’s hands ran up your sides, captivated, as though refusing to keep her hands off you for even a moment. You idly ran your fingers over her stomach where her hoodie had risen up, the warm skin right above her sweatpants; you delighted in the way she shivered at your touch.

“This doesn’t seem fair,” you hummed, running your hand higher up her abdomen, revealing the expanse of soft skin; if you pressed just a little bit harder, you’d be able to feel the muscles beneath. You smiled when you heard her breath stutter, chest rising just slightly to meet your touch. “You’re wearing way too many clothes.”

Ellie - ever enthusiastic - wasted no time in sitting up just enough to tug her hoodie over her head, leaving her hair an absolute mess. She tossed it across the room; you thought you heard it knock something over, but you didn’t have a chance to look before Ellie was grabbing your hips, digging her fingers into the soft skin. You gasped when she used the leverage to pull your hips down, grinding against her.

This time, she was the one not wearing a bra - she had been home studying all day, so you hadn’t expected otherwise - and your eyes raked over miles of fair, warm skin. You wanted to run your fingers over it and watch the shiver your touch pulled from her. You wanted to press your lips to every inch of hot skin and feel the way her body arched into you, chasing your tongue.

But she was watching you with an intoxicating shade of anticipation in her half-lidded eyes. You realized you had been staring for a few seconds too long because she had that cocky ass grin on her stupid face.

“Like what you see?” she teased, pulling your hips down again so you had to bite down a moan.

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled. You couldn’t tell her how many times you had imagined what she would look like under your hands or how you had always wondered how far down her freckles went (you couldn’t keep yourself from running your fingers down her chest, tracing them like constellations). You couldn’t tell her how your eyes had tracked her anytime she walked around the apartment in a sports bra or, sometimes, in only a towel, your imagination running away from you.

If you told her, she’d never let you live it down.

Instead, you let your hands drift across the small swell of her chest, feeling the way her body arched into your fingers. You had to bite back a grin when your thumb brushed over her nipple, feeling her body shudder beneath you. You wanted to record the way her breath caught in her throat to listen to over and over again. Her eyelids fluttered, her lip caught between her teeth; you knelt down to kiss her, hard and deep, smiling into it when you pinched her nipple gently and she moaned against your lips, fingers tightening around your hips.

You needed to taste her, you realized. Your mouth watered with it.

You bit her bottom lip between your teeth, grinning when you heard her hiss. You took a moment to kiss your way across her jaw and down her neck, open-mouthed kisses pulling sighs from her lips. You couldn’t resist sucking the skin into your mouth, feeling the way her pulse jumped under your tongue and loving the moan that rumbled in her throat, her fingers gripping your hips so tightly you were sure you'd have bruises - again. But when you pulled away and saw the red beginnings of a bruise on her pale skin, a thrill ran through you. She would have to walk around with a physical reminder of how you had made her feel.

You loved revenge.

But you weren’t like Ellie, who had taken her sweet time in unraveling you. You didn’t have that kind of patience - certainly not now, not tonight. You had spent far too long holding yourself back - too long averting your gaze, never letting your touch linger. You had spent so long schooling your own imagination, trying to ignore the way your heart stuttered whenever Ellie wandered too close. You had spent too many nights letting your mind wander, only feeling safe to let your imagination run when you could hide in the dark; you had spent far too many nights with your hand between your legs and the fleeting image of green eyes and that crooked fucking smile.

So no, you didn’t have any patience left in you.

When you reached between your bodies and pressed your palm to her sweatpants, you swallowed her moan, drinking it in and feeling like you could survive on it alone. Maybe it would finally satiate your fucking thirst.

Kissing your way down her chest, you pressed the words into her skin - “I can't fucking believe you though I didn’t want this.” - before pressing the flat of your tongue to her nipple. You could get drunk on the breathy moan that dripped from her lips, the way she arched up into you like her body ached to be closer to yours. She pressed her hips into your palm and you could feel the heat through her sweatpants.

When you pulled back just enough to tug at her sweatpants, Ellie started laughing, breathy and hitched as she said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” Even as she said it, she was lifting her hips, pushing hastily at her pants to get them off faster.

The fabric was damp when it dropped to the floor, pooling around her ankles. Stepping off the bed, you placed your hands on her knees, pushing them apart. You dropped to your knees and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin above her boxers. Her skin was hot under your tongue when you said, “Haven’t I waited long enough, Els?”

Ellie only responded with a moan as you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh of her thigh and pressed the heel of your palm to her underwear. You grinned against her skin when she cursed, grinding down into you. You soothed the bite with your tongue and backed away to admire the red beginnings of another bruise.

Ellie groaned, twisting her fingers in the sheets when you ground your palm into her. “Fuck, I’ve waited long enough too, right?”

You couldn’t hold back your grin, tugging at her boxers so she would lift her hips. With her underwear around her ankles, Ellie lifted herself up on her elbows so she could look down at you. Whatever she saw - you on your knees between her legs, lips parted so your hot breath fanned over her - made her groan, another breathy curse falling from her lips. She reached down and carded her fingers through your hair, fingers soft against your temple.

You smiled, blinking coyly up at her, and said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” before pressing the flat of your tongue to her clit.

The moan that wracked through Ellie’s chest sent warmth spreading through your stomach, an ache pooling between your legs. You raised your eyes to watch her as you licked a slow, painstaking stripe over her slit, watching the way her mouth fell open in a choked gasp. The metallic taste of her on your tongue made your head spin; you moaned when she twisted her fingers in your hair, delicious pain stinging your scalp when she tugged.

Ellie gasped your name like it was a promise. “Fuck - what the fuck -” Nonsensical words dripped from her lips with abandon, sweet as honey to your ears. When you ducked your head down to press your tongue inside her, a brief, hot pressure, her fingers tightened in your hair, her voice hitching when she cursed again, her words slurring together.

You wrapped one arm around her thigh, feeling the muscle trembling as you pressed your fingers into the soft flesh. You ran your other hand up her stomach, feeling the way her breath quickened in the rise and fall of her chest. Stretching further, you flicked your thumb over her nipple and tightened your arm around her thigh when her hips bucked, holding her in place.

You wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking it into your mouth and fighting back a smile at the keening whine it pulled from her. Her fist in your hair tugged you closer, guiding you exactly where she wanted you - and how could you resist her when she was chanting your name like a prayer?

A shudder wracked through Ellie’s body when you flicked your tongue over her clit, lapping at her like you were starving. (After waiting so long to taste her, you might as well have been.) She groaned when you pinched her nipple between your fingers, her thighs clamping around your ears. Her legs shook when she came, your name on her tongue as though it were the only word she knew. You coaxed her through it, the flat of your tongue licking over her clit until she was gasping for breath, her hips slumping back against the bed.

You peppered kisses over her thighs as she came down, your hand brushing across her stomach in soothing circles. Your knees ached from the cold floor, the carpet burning against your skin, but you couldn’t convince yourself to move just yet. When you glanced up at her, Ellie was looking down at you with glassy eyes; she had slumped back a little against her elbows, her limbs jelly - you tried not to let that go to your head - but she held out a hand to you, grasping for you. “Fuck, come here.”

You both took the time to finally scoot further up the bed, Ellie's head propped on her pillow, her hair a messy halo around her. She pulled you on top of her, bracing her hands on your hips as you straddled one of her legs. When you leaned down, she tilted her chin up to meet you, kissing you lazily, licking into your mouth like she had all the time in the world - like she could kiss you forever and it still wouldn't be enough. With your elbows braced on either side of her head, it felt like you were both in a small bubble, the world left outside to wait for you. Fuck, maybe you did have all the time in the world.

You gasped when Ellie raised her leg, pressing it between your thighs with an intoxicating pressure. She used her hands on your hips to push you down, guiding you as you grinded down against her. She broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to just look at you. Her pupils were blown, swallowing the green entirely.

She grinned, endearingly lopsided, and murmured, “Now you're wearing too many clothes.” You whined a protest when she took her hands off your hips, but she only reached behind you to fumble with the clasp of your bra. It took her a few tries - you bit back a laugh when she cursed in frustration - and she threw it across the room when she finally got off.

“Who the fuck designed those things?” she grumbled, fingers quick on the button on your jeans.

You got off of her for only a moment, just long enough to kick your jeans and underwear off, but each second her skin wasn't on yours was agony. Your clothes hadn’t even fallen to the floor before Ellie was pulling you back in by the nape of your neck, her other hand guiding your hips back over her leg as she kissed you with a hunger that may as well have devoured you. You hissed when her teeth sunk into your lip, her tongue soothing over it before licking into your mouth.

Your breath caught on a broken moan when she pressed her thumb into the dips of your hips, pressing you back to grind against her leg. The feeling of your bare pussy sliding against her thigh made you lightheaded, the dizzying pressure sending sparks through your stomach. Ellie's fingers still on the back of your head twisted in your hair, giving it an experimental tug; you felt her smile against your lips when you whined. You were pliable under her hands, your hips stuttering against her leg.

Ellie pulled away, pulling you back by your hair just far enough away for her to look at you; her eyes raked over your body with a hunger that set you nerves on fire, looking ready to devour you.

“God, look at you,” she breathed, raising her leg just slightly, the added pressure making your heart stop. Releasing your hair, her hand ran down your side, sliding across your chest. You moaned when her thumb grazed over your nipple, your hips stuttering; her other hand on your hip tightened, fingers digging into the bone. “So fucking wet for me and I've hardly even touched you.”

“Shit,” you cursed when Ellie bucked her hips, her thigh grinding into you. You tried to glare down at her even though you knew your own traitorous eyes betrayed your growing desperation. Her cocky smile didn’t quite land, its impact softened by the way she watched your lips in fascination, her pupils blown - you couldn’t see the green anymore. Your voice wasn’t nearly as hard as you wanted it to be, your want softening the words: “Fuck off, Els, don’t be a dick.”

“Am I being a dick?” she asked in mock offense, pouting up at you. “Good things come and all that shit, right?” Ever as she was teasing you, Ellie’s hand crept down your stomach, fingers warm against your hungry skin. She lowered her leg just enough to slide her hand between your thighs. You gasped, feeling lightning in your veins when those calloused fingers slid over your clit, already wet with want. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting. She slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into her, and said, “Fuck, look at you. God, I finally get to see you like this….”

You struggled to speak past the breathy moans beginning to drip from your lips: “Finally? How - ah - fuck - how long - how long have you…?” You couldn’t think of a way to finish that sentence, your thoughts clouding over when Ellie dipped just the tips of her fingers briefly inside you, gathering your wetness.

“Like you said,” she murmured, finally pushing two fingers slowly inside you; even as she kept talking, she watched your face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, “a long fucking time.”

Your jaw went slack when she curled her fingers, gasping when she found that spot that made you see stars. She paused, as though giving you a moment to adjust, unaware of just how many times you had done this with your own fingers.

“Shit, Ellie,” you moaned, canting your hips down into her hand. She adjusted her arm, positioning herself so that the heel of her hand pressed to your clit, pulling another breathy moan from your lips. Her other hand was still on your hip; she pushed you back, guiding you to grind on her fingers. “Ah - fuck.”

She watched you carefully, fascinated by the way your eyes rolled back in your head, your brow furrowed; you felt her own wetness on your thigh again. Her voice was so fucking breathy when she said, “How long have you wanted this, baby?” She hummed; releasing your hip, she ran her hand up your side to knead at your tit, her fingers so careful against you. You groaned low in your throat when she flicked her thumb over your nipple. “How many times have you come thinking of me? Did you imagine my fingers inside you, angel? Did you moan my name?”

You couldn’t even think of a snarky response; you were too distracted by the way her fingers curled inside you as you fucked yourself against her. Her rough palm slid deliciously against your clit, grinding into her with a growing desperation that made your thighs shake. Your shoulders ached from holding yourself over her but it was only an afterthought as you felt a tight warmth building in your stomach. You leaned down just enough to kiss her, moaning into her mouth when words failed you.

“Fuck, look at you,” Ellie repeated, groaning when your hips stuttered. You were lightheaded, fucking yourself desperately on her fingers, grinding down against her palm and chasing that intoxicating warmth spreading inside. “So fucking pretty for me.”

She kissed you as you came, licking into your mouth and tasting herself on your tongue. You pressed your clit down into the heel of her hand, riding it out, feeling the way that warmth spread down to your fingers. Ellie broke away from the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, leaving wet kisses along your skin and saving every broken moan that was gasped right into her ear.

Ellie didn’t move as you came down, letting you ride out your high, tracing gentle circles down your side. You slumped against her, your arms giving out; your weight landing on her forced all the air from her lungs. She only laughed breathlessly.

It was several long moments before you were able to move again. Ellie ran her fingers through your hair as you gasped into her neck; she hummed absently and you could feel the vibration against your lips.

When you were able to, you slowly lifted yourself off of her, wincing slightly at the sudden emptiness. With gentle hands, she guided you back down to lay beside her; you curled up against her without waiting for her invitation, resting a hand on her bare chest so you could feel the steady pounding of her heart.

Ellie didn’t wait for invitation either before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer; she was blissfully warm against the suddenly cold air. Something tugged pleasantly at your chest at the realization that you would no longer have to monitor your own movements so carefully - you could touch her, you realized, any time you wanted now. God, how were you going to ever stop now?

Without anything else to say, you sighed against her skin: “A long fucking time.”

Ellie hummed, giggling at your delayed answer. The fairy lights on her walls cast the room in a warm glow; with the hazy lights around you, you would almost believe this was a dream if Ellie wasn’t so solid and warm beneath your fingers. You traced the freckles across her chest, connecting constellations you had seen her chart before.

Her voice was so quiet in the small room when she asked, “What do we do now?”

You hummed, feeling sleep winning the war inside you. “We can figure that out tomorrow,” you said, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Tilting your head, you leaned up just enough to kiss her, warm and deep and breathless, before moving away to meet her eyes. “Just don’t fucking run off again, okay?”

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #lesbian smut #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #tlou smut #tlou 2 x reader #sorry for the novel #hope u enjoyed #smash that like button idk

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thestarkinternship · 7 months

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Crossing the Line

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)

Summary: Your ex boyfriend Bucky gets a little jealous after seeing you with a new guy, what lengths will he go to to get you back?

Word Count: 3k (no mention of Y/N)

Warnings: Drinking, profanity, jealous!Bucky, posessive!Bucky, stalking, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (public space), choking, slight dubcon. 18+, MINORS DNI

A/N: I kinda let my imagination run a little crazy in certain parts of this (and I'm not sorry). One day they’ll actually be in a bed but today is not that day.

The dive bar downtown Bucky had followed you to wasn't a pleasant one. It was dark and cramped, the sweaty air as sticky as the alcohol soaked floor. There were too many people in here brushing up against him whilst he stalked through the dimly lit room. Bucky shuddered, recoiling away from the brief touches as he passed by the drunk party goers. Loud music blared out of the cheap speakers, crackling as they struggled to support the rhythmic thumping from the heavy bass. The metal of his arm vibrated slightly, setting off a tingling sensation from the joint at his shoulder all the way down to his fingertip. Making his way to the bar, he wrapped his hand around a cold glass and tried to ignore the feeling. The smooth liquor slipped past his lips, but had little effect on his increasing nerves. Bucky was looking for you, and he wasn't going to relax until you were found.

Of course, he had no right to know where you were. The two of you had been broken up for a couple months now, after all. You were free to do whatever you wanted. But that didn't mean Bucky had to like it. Earlier that evening, he'd overheard you telling Steve all about a club downtown and how excited you were to go. He'd been wary at the time - you'd never been one to want to spend the night getting drunk with random strangers until you couldn't stand. Maybe he didn't know you as well as he thought he did. But the longer he stayed there, his suit collecting god knows how many diseases from leaning against the grimy bar, Bucky couldn't help the way his nose wrinkled a little in disgust. He was now certain his sweet girl didn't belong in a place like this.

As he sipped his way through the glass, and then another, Bucky started to wonder if he'd come to the right bar after all.

Setting his empty glass down, the shiny crystal a stark contrast to the dark wood, Bucky was about to give up when he heard the sound of your high pitched laughter in the distance. His body twitched at the familiar sound. It was like all of his fears were calmed in that instance. Scanning the room, he allowed his enhanced hearing to do the rest of the work, filtering through all of the background chatter until he could pin point your exact location. As he craned his neck, Bucky could just about see you by the edge of the dancefloor. And much to his surprise, you weren't alone.

Perched on a bar stool, you were breaking his heart in a stunning crimson dress. It clung to every inch of your curves. The silky material dipped at the swell of your breasts as your chest moved with your laughter. As you crossed one long leg over the other, the short fabric slipped up your thighs, exposing a lot more of yourself to Bucky than he'd seen in a while. His eyes raked over your body, imagining what he'd do if you'd come here together. Maybe his hand would be on your thigh, daring to trail underneath your dress, whilst his lips pressed soft kisses just below your ear in the way that only he knew you liked. Bucky would beg you to let him take you back to the compound, his gentle touch on your body the entire cab ride home as he teased you about what was to come.

But Bucky was pulled from his thoughts as he noticed you toying with some older guy. Delicate fingers twirled in the stranger's tie, you pulled him close enough to whisper in his ear. His hand grazed the supple skin of your thigh where Bucky's should've been. Even in the fluorescent lighting, Bucky could see the unmistakeable blush that crossed his face at your sinful murmurs. Bucky's jaw tightened. With all of the commotion, not even his super hearing could distinguish your hushed whispers. And he didn't like that one bit.

Jealously spurred on inside of him, curling like fire in the pit of Bucky's stomach. He was struggling to restrain himself from going over there right now and crushing the guy's skull for even breathing near you. At war with himself, Bucky hovered closer as you continued to flirt. A few minutes later, his eyes widened slightly as he saw the two of you step away. Your desperate tugging on the guys shirt for him to follow you towards the exit triggered a raging snap inside of Bucky.

Reaching for his empty glass, he crushed the fragile crystal in anger with just a slight clench of his metal hand. The shattered remains of it fell to the ground as he began to follow your trail. Oh, you'd done it now.

As he stormed after you, Bucky's body was shaking. He needed you. The noise of the city streets became a blur as all Bucky could focus on was echoes of your name inside his mind. His stomach dropped as he watched you turn off the corner into a nearby alley. Pushing his body to catch up to you, he was finally close enough to hear the unmistakeable heavy breathing.

Bucky's boots scuffed against the tarmac as he came to a dead stop at the sight that awaited him. His eyes narrowed at the scene of you pushed up against a brick wall, a thigh hitched up around this stranger's waist, hands tangling in his hair. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you threw your head back carelessly to let out a soft moan. And the worst part of it all? You seemed to be enjoying the way this stranger was practically mauling you.

He closed in on you as you were blissfully unaware of his presence until you saw a large arm grip the shoulder of your date. Bucky tore him away from you, and the man fell to the ground under Bucky's strength. Your shoulder's jumped slightly as you pressed yourself flat against the alley wall in an overwhelming mixture of surprise and fear. Bucky's hand snaked up the back of the man's head before pulling it back.

"You know who I am, right?" Bucky hissed and the man nodded, "good. You touch her again, and I'll kill you."

Bucky let go of him with a hard shove, watching him slump forwards on the gritty floor. There was enough malice in his tone for your date to make the smart decision not to answer back. He scrambled to his feet as he recovered from the ambush. Your date took one last look back at you. He saw the emotion in your eyes, and whilst he pitied you, nothing could make him stay. Turning on the heel of his shoe, he sprinted out of the alley, putting as much distance between himself and The Winter Soldier as possible. All alone now, you had no choice but to face your ex boyfriend.

You stayed quiet, your shoulders moving fast with rapid breaths with the adrenaline of this whole thing.

"Him? Really?" Bucky gestured in the direction of the fleeing man, "I mean, come on, doll. You deserve someone who would at least fight for you, not leave you all alone in an abandoned alleyway."

"What, like you? Is this you fighting for me?" You sneered. It wasn't the smartest choice you'd ever made, but the sarcasm in your voice was even harder to control than Bucky and his jealously. "How did you even know I was here? Did you follow me?"

His silence was all the confirmation that you needed, and you scoffed.

"You've really crossed the line. What are you doing here, James?" You sighed quietly.

"I'm done pretending that I don't still love you. That I don't crave being around you. That I haven't missed being around you every second for the last two months." Bucky whispered, taking a step towards you. He leaned in close, your faces inches apart. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips traced your warm cheek.

You shivered under the familiarity of it, and your voice trembled slightly. "Don't do that, we're not together anymore. You can't…"

He hummed slightly as his eyes glazed over you for the longest time. His touch lingered on your skin, trailing down. You shivered under the cool sensation of the cold vibranium as it prickled goosebumps along your flushed body. Inside your chest, our heart pounded. Bucky's face lit up in the dark at the reaction he managed to elicit from you. He still had an effect on you, whether you wanted to admit it to him or not. Luckily for you, you didn't have to.

"Tell me he made you feel this way, and I'll stop." Bucky whispered.

Your lips parted, your brain begging for the words to come out. But you couldn't help but fall short. What you wanted was to push him away from you, tell him he was being ridiculous and that you had always hated this jealous side of him. But the way he stared at you, ready to devour you at a moment's notice, had you feeling more turned on than you had ever been before. The dark look in his eyes said that he wanted to ravish you, make you forget all about the random guy you had picked up in the bar. And the worst part of it all was, you were willing to let him. You swallowed nervously at the realisation that you still belonged to him, you always had.

"Can't do it, can you?"

Bracing the wall with his good arm, he let his other continue its journey down your body. As he reached the soft spot where your neck met your collarbone, his hand spread out. Gripping lightly, he pulled your head away from the wall to meet him. Bucky's lips were soft, and you found yourself slipping back into the memory of a thousand past kisses. He knew the perfect balance of how much to tease and how much to give back. Tugging your bottom lip between his, he caused soft moans just to silence them again soon after with the addition of his tongue.

Letting go of your throat, he reached for your hip instead. Bucky brushed against the top of your thigh, and you felt a dangerous sensation deep inside your body. You wanted him and this much more than you were letting on. As he daringly ventured underneath your dress, he was so close to finding that out for himself.

Bucky stopped just shy of your dampened panties, and he tore his lips away from yours. A desperate whine slipped from your lips as your brows furrowed. "Bucky…"

"What's the matter?" He smirked, keeping his hand ever so still, just out of reach of where you wanted it to be.

"I…" Your heavy breathing faltered.

Chuckling, he shifted his hand from the wall and brought it to your chin. Tilting your face up to look at him, you caught the dark look in his eye. "Say it, sweetheart. Tell me what you want, and I'll happily give it to you."

"Bucky." Your voice was hoarse. You didn't want to give in to him, much less say outright how much you craved what only he could give you.

His smirk grew and he leaned in to your ear. "Not gonna tell me? Okay, let me take a wild guess. You want me to take you right here, don't you princess? I can feel how wet you are already just from the thought of it. And I don't even have to touch you to know that, I can feel you dripping down your thigh onto my hand. That how turned on you are? Just the thought of how good I can make you feel got you weeping a goddamn river all over my fingers. Think of how much of a mess you're gonna make when you're wrapped around my cock, princess."

It was exactly what you wanted. No matter how long you'd spent apart, Bucky still knew exactly he had to say to reduce you into a shaking, desperate mess in front of him.

Pulling his hand out from under your dress, you frowned until you saw it go to his own waist, unzipping his jeans. He lowered the waistband of his pants just enough to reveal how bulging you had him in his tight boxers. You bit your lip, looking him up and down. The quick flash of his toned stomach as his shirt rode up. The way you could practically see him throbbing as the cotton restrained him. Whilst you were distracted, he hoisted you off your feet.

Gasping, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he braced your back against the brick wall. The jagged edge grazed your skin slightly, and you winced at the pain. The pain subsided as Bucky kissed your exposed shoulder, letting the thin strap of your dress fall down your arm.

"What? You thought I was gonna go easy on you? Tease you with my fingers until you were nice and warmed up to take all of me? Oh no, that's not how this is going to work. Not after the little show you put on for me tonight. You want me to fuck you, so that's exactly what you're going to get. And I know you're plenty wet enough already, so now we're going to put it to good use."

With his palm supporting your lower back, he inched your body down onto his waiting cock. Gravity on his side, your body was forced to accommodate his length as he filled you with little warning. Tight around him, your walls throbbed at the sudden intrusion that pushed you from pain to pleasure. Your jaw fell slack and a cry escaped at the stretching feeling. Bucky's hand clamped hard over your mouth, muffling your sweet sounds. Your head pushed back against the wall as he held you there and kept you quiet.

"Stay quiet for me, doll. Can't let anyone find us here like this. Not when you're being such a good girl for me. Wouldn't wanna have to stop now, would we?" Bucky murmured, his voice heavy with laboured breaths.

You shook your head against his palm, feeling your hot pants flush back against your rosy cheeks as he kept it there. "N- no…"

Even though your reply was muffled, Bucky understood perfectly. Smirking, he gently slid his hand away from your lips and cupped your cheek, leaning in to kiss you. The sweet peck was enough to confirm that Bucky still very much cared about you, even if he was fucking you like he didn't. He pulled out slowly, revelling in the way your needy cunt gripped him. Bucky groaned through gentle thrusts, his eyes shutting as you sucked him back in. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, muttering depraved nonsense as he rutted up into you.

"Shit, doll. Still as fucking tight as I remember. Swear, I'm never letting go of you again. Wanna be inside of you forever."

Your kisses turned messy, as your shared desperation for each other grew. Promises of being quiet were long forgotten as you pushed one another to release. Bucky's fingers dug into your hips as he brought you down harder onto his cock, meeting you halfway with sharp thrusts. Your hands ran up and down his back, grasping at his t shirt and scrunching it up tight in between your fingers as you hurtled towards the edge. Bucky's own body tensed as he felt you twitch.

"Keep that up and I'm gonna come in you right now." Bucky panted, not showing any signs of slowing down.

You whimpered in response, your bottom lip quivering.

"Is that what you want, huh?" he murmured, "want me to fill you right here and leave with my come spilling down your thighs?

You babbled incoherently as you struggled to get a straight answer out.

"Gonna need to hear you say it, doll." Bucky taunted with a smirk, bringing his hand down to rub slow circles on your clit.

You gasped. "Yes, that's what I want. Please."

He chuckled darkly, before adding more pressure to that bundle of nerves between your legs, bumping over his cock as it disappeared inside of you with relentless thrusts. Your thighs squeezed his waist as the knot in your lower stomach tightened. Heart pounding and head dizzying, his fast pace and quick fingers sent you flying over the edge. Your vision blurred and faded in and out of darkness at the blinding pleasure that only he could bring you.

Bucky fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own. Not a minute later, you felt the pulsing of his cock inside of you as he spilled inside of you. The sensation of his come reaching deep caused you to tremble, and your body fell slack between the wall and him. He stepped closer, cradling your shaky body. As the two of you caught your breath, he gently set you back down on your feet whilst still keeping you close for support. You shuddered as his warm come trickled down your inner thigh and came into contact with the cool night's air. His thumb hooked the hem of your dress, pulling it back down before giving you a soft kiss.

When he finally pulled away, the anger in his expression was long gone and all that remained was the sweet side of him you hadn't seen since long before your breakup.

"I meant what I said, you know?" he mumbled, swiping a thumb across your pink lips, "letting you walk away from me was the biggest mistake I've ever made."

Looking up at him, you felt a warmth spread in your chest. In that moment, you couldn't remember why you left him either. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before whispering, "don't let it happen again."

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