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[tejuskumar13]

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[coxblogs]

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[allurilove]

Yandere Boyfriend x you

Rated 18 + -- mature long (?) content!

Includes: Headcanons of possessive, obsessive, and perverted behavior, stalking, rough sex, pretty gender neutral, jealousy, hair pulling, handjobs, going on vacation with you.

*Thanks for all the love on the first post, and here’s a continuation! Here is the third part! It’s a much longer version, and he’s now referred to as “your boyfriend!” This is gonna be a long one, and then I'll take a bit of a break to write yandere priest! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your wish became true, and now you have a boyfriend. He loves you immensely, and now that you two live together, he feels like his life is complete.

He never believed to see a more beautiful and attractive person than you. You have his heart and soul in your possession, all ready and willing for you to devour.

Take him, claim him, and he’ll be at your feet worshipping you forever.

He was stoked to be able to have access to your bedroom 24/7. It was like he struck gold as you shown him your newly decorated room. It felt surreal to be your roommate, and the fact that you two would be living under the same roof made it hard for him to control his urges. He knows he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. You were off to class, and his hand was on the doorknob. He slowly pulled the door back, and all of your clothes were revealed to him. He reached out and gently touched the fabric of your clothes, his hands feeling the smooth silk, or the fuzzy cotton shirt. He leaned in to sniff the closet, and your natural scent fills his nose. He sighed and he stepped in, he closed his eyes as your clothes enveloped him like a hug.

Your classmate slowly pulled down his pants, his face digging into your sweater as he kept inhaling the soft aroma from your fragrance. He had to keep himself busy somehow. He started to shuffle around the apartment, his pants pulled down to his feet and he looked like a penguin as he walked to the bathroom. He grabbed your towel you frequently used, and he sniffed that too. Your classmate began to rub himself, his fingers touching the outline of his manhood. It stood strong and proud, it was a bit heavy and sort of curved to the left. He used his free hand to start jerking himself off.

It was almost like a routine for him. He would wake up at the same time as you, watch you leave the house and wave goodbye, and then go back to your room to sleep. He soon began to grind onto your pillow. Or he would wrap himself in a little burrito with your covers.

You two had your great moments as "classmates", and had your little movie nights when you were done with class. You had a huge bucket of popcorn on your lap, and it was mixed with your favorite candy, with sweet and savory kernels as well. He would always grab for some when you did- just to brush his hand against yours.

While living with your classmate…he soon became your boyfriend. It sort of happened when you two got drunk and ended up making out in his bed. His lips were soft, his tongue swirled with yours, and he could taste the peach liquor.

Living with him was great: he frequently cleaned, always did the laundry, and he would steal a couple of your intimates. You almost caught him, and you could see the little fabric poking out of his pocket, but he had distracted you by pulling you to the bedroom.

You were getting a bit suspicious that he was at the apartment all the time, but he promised he just had online classes. He then started to be a Photoshop pro. He would create fake grades, and fake assignments he had to do, and he realized that it would be odd if he was available all the time. So, he actually had to sneak into campus and pretend he was a student there. His heart ached as he had to send "I'm actually busy and can't make it" text to you. Knowing damn well that he had nothing going on.

You two went on dates. He always took you out somewhere new, he never once wanted you to feel bored with him. He bought tickets to this stand up comedian you liked, and you both sat down onto your seats. It went well, literally too well. He grits his teeth as he hears another laugh from you. I mean c'mon, the comedian wasn’t that funny.

Now that he thinks about it… he doesn’t remember a time when he made you laugh like that. Even when he made notes of all the things you found hilarious. His eyes widened at the realization, and he started to doubt himself. Maybe he wasn’t even funny, no matter how hard he tried-- oh god!

You nudged him to see his reaction, his eyes were shining with love as he looked over to you, but he covered the lower half of his face. And he silently mouthed “Count your days” to the comedian.

He gripped onto his thighs, his eyes narrowing at the ground as he silently fumed. He didn’t want to seem overbearing, and you were having a good time, so he kept his thoughts to himself. You made fun of him that night. While you guys were walking back home, he frowned as you mocked his tense expression.

“Oh stop it.” He grumbled and he looked away. He looked so cute when he pouted, and he crossed his arms.

Though deep down, he liked that he made you smile. Even if you were laughing at him, it was still a win in his books. He sighed and decided to reel you in by wrapping his arm around your shoulder, and he brought you close.

You also got a lot of noise complaints. It was embarrassing to even bump into your neighbors when you left your apartment. They sent you nasty glares, eye rolls, and out right told you to keep it down. They thought you were a porn fein.

Your back arched as your boyfriend thrusted into you, and you held him tightly against you. Being with him was always passionate, he was ravenous and acted as if he had been starved of your warmth. He let out a loud groan. He also had the tendency to curse, the bed shook as he picked up the pace- the headboard repeatedly slammed into the wall. You also had to buy a new bed frame after he broke the other one.

He leaned down and he nibbled and nipped at your neck, he loved to leave hickeys and marks on you. His hands lifted your legs up and onto his shoulders, pressing your thighs to your chest. The bed creaks underneath your weight, and he reaches down to caress your flushed cheek.

When you saw him open his mouth to say something dirty, you quickly silenced it with your hand. He peered down curiously, his brow raised, and he tilted his head in confusion. You remind him to keep it down, and that the people next door will hear.

The next day: you hid yourself in a hoodie, running to the bus stop as you ignored your neighbors heckles.

After you were done with class, you two went to the gym to work out. You promised to help him build some muscles, and teach him how to run properly. He sometimes wished he didn’t have a dick. He listened to you explain some random machine, and he grabbed a towel to cover his crotch. You saw how he would nervously dart his eyes around, completely unable to look at you without drooling.

As a punishment, you got him to start running on the treadmill. He pants as you continued to speed up the machine, and sweat began to drip down his body.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Your boyfriend whined, and he had to keep pushing his body to the limits. "I thought you liked me..." He joked as he wiped the sweat off his neck.

When he missed you, he disguised himself when he would follow you around campus. He hid himself behind a bookshelf after he stalked you to the library. He lowered his shades to see what you were reading.

“Excuse me?” Another student tapped on his shoulder.

“Piss off.” Your boyfriend said curtly, and he slapped their hand off him. “Can’t you see that I’m busy?”

The student looked at him and then followed his line of sight. They were going to ask him to move so they could grab their book, but when they saw his flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, and his odd heavy breathing… they realized he was stalking you and was probably a creep. The student gulped, slowly backing away as they flagged down security.

You had to save your boyfriend from the arms of a buff man. It was almost funny to see your boyfriend get manhandled by security, his feet dangling off the ground, and he continued to say that the guard was embarrassing him.

Your boyfriend still kept in touch with your siblings, he actually grew to liking them, and when winter break came around, he followed you back home. He stepped inside the familiar house, and he greeted your parents first. He handed presents around to your family, and he quickly put on a white beard and red hat for the kids.

He genuinely started tweaking when he was introduced to your life long childhood friend, and ex. He forced a smile and his grip was tight as he shook your ex lovers hand. Your boyfriend continues to give your ex a sideways glare whenever they were near him, or when they would touch you, he would accidentally push them into the christmas tree.

He holds your hand during dinner, and conveniently turns away when your ex asked him pass the rolls. When you reach over to grab the basket for yourself, your boyfriend handed them to you immediately. His expression souring as you gave one to your ex too.

“I think they meant to give it to me.” Your boyfriend grunts, and he picks the bread off your exes plate and shoves it into his mouth.

You kicked him out of bed that night. He had to sleep on the tiny ottoman, it was either that or sleeping on the floor. But he refused to lay down where he couldn’t see you. He sulked, and his body curled up into a fetal position as he saw you sleeping comfortably on the bed.

Your boyfriend slowly unraveled his body and he prowled towards you. His face rubbed up against your thighs, and he murmured “I’m sorry” into your skin. His lips trailing up to your inner thigh. When you pull away, he rolled his eyes, and he flipped you over onto your stomach.

“Do you like your ex more than me? Is that it?” His voice is calm but you can hear the underlying irritation in it. “Do you get all hot and bothered when you think about them?”

“Do you think about them when you’re with me?” He yanked on your hair, and you wince as you feel a burn at your scalp.

He rubbed his sore cheek after you hit him, and you made him sit in the corner to reflect on his behavior. He sighs and he leans his head back onto the wall, his eyes glancing at your sleeping form. You did tell him he couldn't sleep on the bed, but was he going to listen...? He got up from his spot, and he tiptoed towards you, and he laid down next to you. He was successful until your eyes shot open and glared at him, he quickly slinks away in fear.

Your family decided to take you guys to the slopes. You were still mad at your boyfriend, but you helped him put on his clothes. You roughly zipped up his jacket, wrapped the scarf around his neck, and shoved him into the van. He did not like sitting next to your ex. The car ride was tense for him, and your boyfriend was nice to your parents and thanked them for bringing him along. He rolled his eyes as he heard your ex do the same-- damn copycat.

He awkwardly sat there, you were on his left, and your ex on his right. Your boyfriend stared out the window, occasionally making conversation with you, and when you guys came to the gas station to fill up the car- he couldn't wait to jump out.

Your boyfriend stared at the road as your parents pumped the gas into the vehicle, he stretched his limbs and he couldn't help but wonder how long it would take him to walk back home.... surely it wouldn't be that far. He didn't want to leave you with your psychotic ex. I mean, he didn't know for sure they were a nut case, but he liked to believe they were. However, he also didnt want to be here so... he pulled out his phone and he looked it up, damn. 15 hours?

"Thinking about running away?"

Your boyfriends body stiffened as he heard your ex's voice. He sighed heavily, and he turned around to see the person in front of him. He looked at them up and down... realizing they were wearing the same colors. They looked like they were matching. Fuck.

"You would like that wouldn't you?" Your boyfriend shoved past them and he walked inside the store to find you.

You were standing at the chips aisle, a couple of things already in your hands. Your boyfriend grabbed a beef jerky and made his way to you, his body behind yours, and he pressed himself against you. He kissed your cheek, and his hands rubbed your sides.

"Are you still mad at me?" He moped.

"Are you being nice to my friend?" You said back.

He stayed silent for a bit, contemplating what to say. I mean he could lie, but he decides not to. "I think you're asking a bit too much from me."

The rest of the car ride was silent. When you guys made it to the mountain he was shaking the entire time. He was cold, did not know how to ski, and he was stuck on the easiest slopes with the kids and beginner skiers. He flailed down the hill, he tumbled and rolled, and he crashed into a tree.

You helped him get back to the cabin after he got a concussion.

His body wasn't hurting too badly, and he whined and sniffled- really trying to make it seem he was sick. He loved the attention you were giving him, the light touch of your lips on his forehead, and when he convinced you to touch him down there, he was really happy. His back arches as you continued to move your hand underneath his pants, your thumb brushing against his tip.

"Ah~" Your boyfriend moaned. "Keep going..." his hips jerked up to meet your movements, his cock starting to twitch in your hand. His arousal formed in his stomach, before his cum finally leaked out of his member.

You shimmied his pants a bit lower and you licked his manhood, your tongue tasting the slightly salty and white fluid dripping down his length. The rest of the trip went smoothly. He would often pull you to the side to kiss you, he cooked alongside you, learned how to ski with you, learned how to knit a beanie, and of course his favorite... being intimate with you.

Your ex's room was right next door, and your boyfriend made sure to make you scream out his name every night, and vice versa. He loved to make a show of how much you two loved each other, and his hands were on your hips to help you ride him.

"So goood..." He babbled, his brows furrowed in pleasure, and he latched his lips onto your neck. "Keep ridin' me, I wanna see you lose it on my cock."

Your boyfriend was entranced with how you took him in easily, his dick disappearing into you, and felt you tighten around him. A deep growl vibrating from his throat. He plays with your nipples, pinching and he sucked on them. He twirls his tongue around your hardened nipple. When you came, he lapped up your nectar, and he kissed you.

It was soon becoming the end of your college years, and he started to panic. Especially when he heard you talking about how you're gonna walk on stage, or what you were going to wear. He panicked because he's a damn liar. He wouldn't be able to sneak his way into graduation, and it was time to come clean. He hoped you wouldn't leave him, or think he's crazy for following you across the world to be with you.

Allure: Hopefully this keeps y'all fed until I come back! Here’s the c.ai link: https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/ondwnvhr

[senascoop]

perv bf jake drabble because I'm bored...

You're walking ahead of Jake, hips swaying, as his hungry gaze follows your every step. It doesn't bother you, not really, because you know you're just as perverted in your desires. But he's different. He outpaces your perversions, surpassing them in a single, lustful stride.

His mind starts to wander, drifting between your thighs, imagining an eternity trapped there. For him, it is heaven-the ultimate dream destination. It's in the way his eyes linger, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he loses himself in his fantasies.

You have been noticing recently that the stack of panties in your drawer keeps dwindling. A pair gone here, a set vanished there. You did not bother much with it at first. You must have misplaced them or forgotten them in some drawer or tucked them away in some forgotten corner. But then, he started replacing them.

Every time you discovered the deficit, he'd surprise you with new, better panties. Lacy, silky, or soft cotton—it didn't matter. He spoiled you, indulged your every whim. Such a sweetheart, you thought.

But was he?

There it lay, hidden in the remnants of discarded fabric. How they carried still with your scent, how a hint of musk could be detected from the traces of your arousal. There was the scent of Jake's lust and how he indulged, so twisted and secret.

He was not only replacing the missing pair of panties. He stole them and used them as prizes, jerking into the fabric and painting them with his own release. Your smell, your aroma, becomes some twisted aphrodisiac fueling his darkest fantasies.

He was no sweetheart. He was a thief, a pervert of the highest order. But you couldn't help the thrill that raced down your spine at the thought, the dampness that gathered between your thighs. Because deep down, you knew you wanted him to do it again. And again. And again.

The warm water streamed down your body while your hands caressed every curve of your skin soaped up with soap in the bite marks on the neck, breasts, and inner thighs. Each one remained a reminder of last night's raw passion. You felt the heat of water only make the memories all the more burning, when your body craved just a little more even with the evidence being washed out.

If you hadn't noticed it before, you did now. The little gap in the door from where you saw Jake, who stands across the room, a picture of brazen desire. His hand, hidden within the confines of his jeans, moves with a purposeful, rhythmic motion. It's clear what he's doing, the lewd act concealed but not truly secret. His eyes, once again, betray him.

A guttural, muffled “Fuck” is wrung from his lips, the word lost to the steamy air and the sound of the waterfalls. Even without the audible confirmation, you know him intimately, and his pleasure is as familiar to you as your own reflection.

As he spills himself, his release seeping into the fabric of his boxers, he allows himself a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. His eyes flutter shut, a look of utter contentment etched onto his handsome face. But it's fleeting.

They snap open, his eyes darting right to you as if by magnet. There, in the small slit in the door, only big enough to be almost an oversight, he can see you. And you can see him seeing you.

His eyes scan your wet body, shameless in their appreciation. They linger on the curves he knows so well, the peaks and valleys sculpted by your natural beauty and the passion you share. His gaze burns a trail from the top of your head down to your toes, pausing at every tempting inch in between.

He gives you a look that's as sheepish as it is lustful. A smile tugs at his lips, crooked and full of mischief. It's the grin of a man who knows he's been caught, but couldn't possibly be more pleased about it.

As he watches, his eyes go to your towel, not blinking, as you start to dry yourself, and he follows the route of the towel with an imagination of how the absorbent fabric would feel on your skin, wishing his hands were there.

He's a sweetheart, in his own twisted, insatiable way. He indulges your every whim, worships your body with a fervor that borders on reverence. But he's also a thief, a pervert, a man consumed by his own dark, lustful desires.

And as you lock eyes through the gap in the door, you realize that you wouldn't have him any other way. His shamelessness is part of what draws you to him, the key ingredient in the recipe of your relationship. 

[catboyieejeno]

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・★

cw: little plot, roommates/fwb to lovers (ig?), strength kink, oral (fem receiving), slightly toxic (?), jealousy, very possessive jeno, overstimulation

18+ minors do not interact !

"stop fucking moving,"

you gasp out when jeno lands a slap on your clit, unable to help but jolt at the wave of pain and pleasure that shoots through your nerves. your eyes are dazed, but you can still make out his figure between your legs. he readjusts, using his big palms to keep your thighs far apart.

"i-i'm sorry, i'm sorry," you whimper weakly. he doesn't pay any mind to your apology, though, attaching his mouth to your dripping cunt once again.

by now, you knew jeno well enough to know exactly what pushed his buttons. it's exhilarating to test his limits, because more often than not, you'd end up with a few mind-blowing orgasms as your so-called 'punishment' at the end of the night.

so earlier, when your mutual friend jaemin came over, you thought it would be ingenious to settle down on the couch beside him and swing your legs over his lap.

that was your first mistake.

"sit there and take it," jeno growls, "and stay fucking still unless you want me to edge you all night,"

you knew your little plan would bother jeno, and it very much did. it was painfully obvious on his features, from the moment you hiked up your smooth legs and laid them over jaemin's thighs.

jeno's glare was unyielding, and he had his jaw clenched so tight, you worried his teeth might crack.

purely oblivious to your antics and jeno’s sudden sour mood, jaemin didn't think twice about resting his hands on your bare skin—it was an innocent gesture, really. the problem was, when he told a joke that made you laugh, you laughed a little too hard, taking his hand into your own and sliding it up your thigh.

it was bad enough that your cotton shorts were absolutely tiny, but it was worse that they were now tucked high between your legs. by the time you settled jaemin's hand where you wanted it to be, he was no less than a few inches from your core.

that was mistake number two.

"jeno. holy shit, please,"

"you wanna tease me, huh? wanna get me jealous? you like that shit," it doesn't matter that he's mumbling into your folds and his speech is slightly slurred, you catch onto his every word.

he laps you up again and again, alternating between laying his tongue flat on your clit and wrapping his lips around it to suck on it. his hands have slid up your waist, but his elbows keep your legs pinned open.

you're, quite literally, on fire. the wet, slurping sounds of him making out with your pussy are so loud that they're deafening. every groan and growl he grants shoots vibrations through you, and there doesn't seem to be enough oxygen in the room with the way you're rigidly panting.

if he didn't let you come soon, you're pretty sure you'd pass out.

"do you want anything to drink, jae?"

jeno scoffs. since when the fuck did you call jaemin 'jae?'

"some water would be nice, thanks," the boy flashed his smile at you and you stood up, ass practically hanging out of your shorts and right in his face. you couldn't see with your back turned, but jeno caught the way his friend's eyes darted to your pretty, plump cheeks, adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.

you returned with his glass, but just before you handed it to him, you pretended to stumble, and some of the water landed right over his crotch.

was it extremely cliche? sure, but it certainly did the trick.

when you came back with a kitchen towel chanting fake apologies and just about straddled one of his legs, jeno had pretty much had enough.

but then, as if that wasn't nearly enough, you went on to wipe away at jaemin's jeans (right over his slightly swelling bulge) wearing the most infuriatingly innocent look on your face.

"i'm so sorry!"

"it's okay, really," jaemin insisted, subconsciously spreading his knees farther apart so you could continue to dry him off.

"it's really not! jeno," you called, turning and batting your eyes, "can't you lend him one of your pairs?"

the moment your gaze landed on him, you knew you were fucked.

he narrowed his eyes on you, shooting daggers your way. after letting some air out through his nose, he seethed through his tightened teeth a small "sure."

and that? that was mistake number three.

"jeno, baby, i'm so close,"

"no," he warns, "don't you dare fucking come."

"i can't help it, i'm gonna-"

he stops at once, pulling the rug clean from under you and smirking at the way you whine out, body seizing up as your orgasm is stripped away. he watches as your hole pulses incessantly with need, grinding himself into the mattress.

you cry out, "i said i was sorry," but he only tuts, shaking his head.

"you made your bed, now lie in it."

"please," you're breathless and desperate for some sort of release. so much so, that you resort to shamelessly bargaining, "i'll give you head everyday for the next week,"

"not good enough. I can fuck your mouth whenever I want,"

"jeno! i'll- fuck, i don't know," you look around as you rack through your brain, but he doesn't let you finish your thought.

"say you're mine."

"but,” you pause, eyes widening, “i-i'm not,"

jeno sticks his middle finger knuckle deep into you, stilling it there within your tight, fluttering walls, "so then, tell me. you want jaemin's mouth on you instead of mine?"

"no," you answer quickly, honestly.

he pumps into you once, then twice, slowly coaxing the confession out of you, "then say it, baby. say you're mine, that i'm the only one who makes you feel this good,"

"i'm not yours, jeno. we-we've been over this,"

"i guess you don't wanna come then, do you?" he withdraws his digit and sits up on his knees, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, "i don't know why you have to be so fucking stubborn all the time,"

you watch as he pulls his length out of his boxers, mouth working to gather saliva to the front of his mouth. he spits, letting it fall onto his swollen, pink tip. it's hard to hide the way you're basically squirming in anticipation, hips practically bucking up and closer to him.

"i'm sorry," you try again, voice sweet and airy. but again, he doesn't answer. he simply lines himself up with your hole and pushes in with a hiss, training his eyes on you to watch the way your jaw goes slack.

"you're a brat," he scolds, "and a tease," his hands press down on your tummy, resting his weight there. when he bottoms out, you grip his wrists, looking down to watch the way he sits on his heels with his dick buried in you.

"i'm sorr-“

"stop fucking saying that," he thrusts into you and you moan out, "you know what i wanna hear," his gradually increasing pace makes you shudder, and your orgasm starts building within you once again, "i'm gonna fuck you so good, you'll never even think about jaemin again,"

jeno rams his hips into you and the sound of your skin slapping against his echoes around your bedroom. you try to cover up how close you're getting, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he won't notice until it's too late.

the only problem is: jeno knows you just as well as you know him, and even more so, he knows your body. he prides himself in that—in catching every little involuntary sign and habit you have.

he knows the way your toes curl when he hits the right spot, deep within your gummy walls, and he knows the way your eyes gloss over to spill hot tears when he chokes you.

your face might be able to conceal your true intentions, but your pussy, gushing and squeezing around him, can not.

“if i feel you come around me, so help me god, i’m gonna stop,”

there isn’t the slightest hint of a bluff behind his sharp tone, and it pisses you off. your cheeks are red hot with frustration, nails digging into his skin, which only makes him squeeze your waist harder. the pleasure is dizzying, his thick length dragging up and down your walls in the most delectable way.

you aren’t gonna last much longer, you know that. he knows that.

“please, jeno. please please please,”

“i’ll let you come, baby. there’s nothing i want more than for you to come on my cock, but i need you to tell me,”

sneakily, you trail your hand between your legs to stimulate your clit, but he’s quick to grasp both of your wrists before you can even savor the feeling, pinning your arms on your chest between your bouncing breasts.

you’re a mere second away from whining out in protest when his own free hand flies to rub circles on your puffy clit, and suddenly, the feeling is far too overwhelming.

forced to blink harshly a few times to regain focus, you look at his features and come to the conclusion that truthfully, jaemin, and no one else for that matter, could ever make you feel like this.

you didn’t want anyone else anyway. your little act was just a ploy to get you to this very point, stuck underneath jeno who manages to make you come so hard each and every time he’s inside you that you wind up seeing stars.

as the cord threatens to snap in your belly, every ounce of you longing for release, you moan out loudly, giving in, “i’m yours! i don’t want anyone else, i promise,”

“yeah?”

“yes,” you insist, “yes, baby. fuck, m’all yours, always yours,”

he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and suddenly, all the anger he had been airing out fades for a moment. he doesn’t shove his tongue down your throat (although you wouldn’t have minded much), and he doesn’t move his lips in any kind of rush; instead, they move against yours softly, almost feather-like, as if your confession would float away from any suddenness.

and finally, against your lips, he mumbles, “go ahead and come, sweet girl. i’ve got you.”

instantly, your nerves ignite and your breath hitches, your orgasm washing over you at last.

he isn’t far behind, not at all. he had been sensitive ever since he’d started humping the bed with his head stuck between your legs.

he finishes with you, in you, shooting streams of hot white cum inside your clenched walls. the grip he holds on your hand releases as a grunt rumbles in his throat, and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, letting him bury his face into your neck.

when he stills his movements, he lays his weight on top of you, warm, slick skin pressing right up against you, chest to chest.

after a few moments of silence, other than the settling heavy breaths from both of you, you rake your fingers through his hair, muttering timidly by his ear.

“i mean it. i’m yours. i only did all that earlier for—well, for this.”

“all mine?”

you nod, giving him reassurance when he lifts his head to read the expression on your face, “mhm.”

“good. i’m all yours, too.”

[buckyalpine]

Bucky feral over pregnant reader

Pure pregnancy fluff and filth. This was meant to be pure fluff and then as usual, I got carried away, idk why I decided to make it this dirty. 

I can’t get over Bucky being obsessed with you carrying his baby. Yes he’s excited to be a dad but there’s something about the fact that it’s you. You’re pregnant because of him, it’s his little one in your perfect belly. Every tiny change he notices in your body makes him swoon from, from your swollen achy feet to your tender breasts, and your slightly plumper cheeks. 

He fucking loves it. 

Your his baby mama and nothing else matters, he’s so proud and in love with you. The swell of your tummy makes his heart beat faster, and the more it grows, the more irresistible he finds you.

“You’re carrying my baby” he coos, wrapping his hands around your tummy while you stand in the kitchen grabbing a snack. He’s happy to cradle the little bump in his arms, easing some of the tension from your back, doing anything to help you feel better. He’s such a lovesick puppy, always looking at you with heart eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the team. 

“Look, he’s going it again” Sam whispered to Steve, the both of them watching Bucky watching you flit around the kitchen with his chin resting on his hands, sighing, enamored with how pretty you are with your cute little waddle. 

“Does he plan on moving any time soon?”

“Nope” 

Bucky is so busy admiring you, he doesn’t realize the team has started timing records for how long he just sits and watches because they find it utterly and disgustingly adorable. 

He wants to make love to you the entire time, every hour if possible but mama also needs her rest so he doesn’t try to tire you out. That doesn’t mean he keeps his hands to himself, especially when you’re extra hormonal and needy. 

“I got you, mama” He soothes you, pulling your soaked cotton panties off and pulling up your oversized shirt over your belly, his hands gently holding onto your hips and he pushes himself inside. He loves this position with your thighs spread apart, belly on full display, watching your face contort with pleasure, watching his cock thrust in and out of your dripping cunt.

It takes everything in him not to cum instantly, fucking his pretty, very pregnant girl, knowing he knocked her up, it’s his cum that has her all round and perfect, their love making that’s giving him a family. 

“Fuck mama, m’gonna cum” He can’t help the whine and whimper of his voice, muscles tensed from trying to hold back but he can’t, your body is so warm and soft, “S’too much, balls feel to heavy, you make my cock so sensitive, s’all fucked up, I can’t-f-fuuckk” His hips stutter and he’s  spilling ropes of his creamy spend into you, already thinking of getting you pregnant immediately after. 

He can’t resist you even when you’re asleep. 

“Jamie” you whine, your futile protests turning into a needy moan when you feel his tongue brush over your clit, his head between your legs, the time on the clock 1:15AM. 

“Please mama? Wanna make you feel good pretty baby, you deserve it” He just had to get a taste and he doesn’t relent till his beard is soaked and your a shaky, trembling mess. He suckles and nurses off your clit like it’s keeping him alive, pumping his fingers in and out of you till your eyes roll all the way back and your voice is cracking from screaming. 

Your pregnancy has made him down right filthy and feral. Like when you finished up your shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel that barely covered anything. Bucky was sitting on the bed with a book in his hands, the story now long forgotten when he sees you sitting by the vanity, applying your lotion. You let the towel drop to the floor, now bare naked while rubbing silky cream onto your sensitive skin. 

“Fuck, y’can’t do that doll” Bucky groans, his eyes trailing to your peaked buds down to your stretch marks and plush thighs, the soft rolls of your back making him feral, something he desperately wants to grab and squeeze them in his hands. “Let me help you, mama” 

He’s about to set his book down but you can’t help but tease him, shaking your head instead. 

“Y’know I can do this myself baby, I need to move around, doctors orders” 

He knows you’re right but that doesn’t stop all his blood rushing down to his now aching cock, screaming for attention. He palms himself, hoping it’d be enough to calm down but nope. You start to massage your swollen breasts, the smirk on your face shows you know what your doing. His cock ends up in his hand, book thrown aside, chest heaving up and down. 

“Fuck, m’so hard” He moans, stroking himself while you giggle, continuing with your routine. “S’not fair babygirl, makes my cock hurt when you look so pretty like that” 

He’s careful to use slow, languid strokes because any tighter and he’d cum all over his fist. At some point his metal hand cups his balls because his body feels too hot and they’re so fucking full. He could cum just from watching you but he’s more greedy than ever. 

“Mama. c’mere, please” he pleads with glassy eyes between moans, struggling to keep his eyes open. 

“Need something Jamie?” You coo, your perfect naked form causing spurts of precum to shoot from his tip while you saunter over to him, removing his hand from his cock and pulling him to stand up. He’s about to ask what you’re doing, stuttering when you bite your lip. 

“Oh god, fuck, no, you-you can’t-” He chokes out while you sink to your knees, taking the head  of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around. He sobs at how angelic you look, your breasts heavier than ever, tummy nearly touching the floor. You’re a whole Goddess, on your knees, sucking his dick, pregnant with his baby, Bucky swears he’s died and gone to heaven. 

“Fuck, A-angel, don’t do this to me, m’gonna cum so much, feels too good, you’re so pretty” He cups your cheeks with softly, whining when you pull of him with a pop, his arousal making your lips and chin glossy, dribbling down your neck. 

“Go on daddy, mark me” You smirk while he furiously jerks his cock above your face, cursing under his breath, his cock swelling in his fist. He feels his balls pull tight to his body, his heavy length leaking and already dripping on your face. 

“OH GOD” He nearly roars, coating your entire face with his warm, sticky spend. “FUCK YES” he lets the last few drops fall onto your belly, your body perfectly covered in him. He kisses it all off with sloppy kisses, hard again with him minutes, this time filling your perfect pussy up instead. 

By the time he’s done, you need to shower again anyway, which he’s perfectly happy with, this time excited to join you. 

“C’mon mama, lets get you cleaned up again” 

Sorry. 

[latenightdaydreams]

I have an idea that Konig is Ghostface and he's been stalking reader for a while. He found out reader is a bookworm outside but literally a cunt inside. Like she never comes to parties, spend hours with her vibration instead. One night, Konig sneaks in her house and rape her fat unused pussy 😩😩😩

🤭🤭🤭YES😮‍💨

Ghostface!König x Nerd!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

🚫TRIGGERS🚫

>cw: fem/afab, non-con, bondage, voyeurism, stalking

3.1k word count

👻

.

.

The first time König saw you was at the campus Valentine's Day party. You showed up dressed in a festive pink sweater, but then sat in the corner with a stank look on your face. His eyes followed you as you seemingly complained to the girl you came with, a friend? Either way, your breasts and sensual body shape caught his attention.

König walks up to a guy that’s talking to your friend, “Wer ist das?” He asks, pointing to you.

“She’s a bitch,” the girl's friend hits his chest as if to tell him to shut up.

“She’s just shy. She hates parties.” Christa, your friend, defends you.

They all stand there and watch you gather your things and walk out the door without saying bye to anyone, not even your friend. Interesting. What type of woman are you? He was intrigued and wanted to see more of you. See what those bouncy breasts look like outside of that pink sweater.

After this first encounter, he dedicated his time to following you around campus. First, only to figure out what your schedule was. What classes do you take, what teacher do you have, what building the classes are in, etc. Just the basics.

He stalks behind you, far enough behind that you’d never notice; but close enough to listen in on any conversations you had. Which was basically zero. You kept to yourself no matter what you were doing. If someone interacted with you, you’d have such a poor attitude about it. Snappy, short, lots of eye rolling. This went on for two months.

One day, König set up a forced interaction. Dressed casually and slicked his blonde hair back. He looks handsome, standing at 6 '10 and being pure muscle. He knows he is attractive; his personality just sucks, much like yours seems to.

He lingers outside your second class of the day and looks around as if he were a lost student. Once he sees you, he walks over.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Your eyes dart to him as you take out an air pod. “What?” Your tone is unkind.

“I’m lost and I don’t know which room-”

“I’m late for class.” You cut him off and walk past him.

König just watches as you walk away with a smirk on his face. He knows once he has you in his hands, he’d have fun breaking you. After that, he waits for you to leave class and follow you home. Since you would not get to know him the typical way, he would continue getting to know you in the shadows.

You walk fast, but he has no issues keeping up. Your hips sway hypnotically, keeping his attention. Finally, you stop at a cute one-story home. He watches as you take your keys out and enter your home. Waiting a few minutes before he walks up to peek into your windows. He looks around to make sure no neighbors are watching as he walks up to your house, crouching.

Eyes peering through the first window, he sees your living room. Your shoes kicked off by the door, TV turned on already, and backpack thrown on the couch. His eyes scan the room, trying to take in every detail.

Continuing on he comes to the next window. He sees you and ducks back, worried you might have seen him. After a few seconds of no screams, he creeps back to the window. There you are. Taking off your shirt and jeans, just standing there in your beige bra and blue cotton panties. Totally unaware you’re being watched as you check yourself out in your dresser's mirror.

Watching like a hawk as you open the top draw and pull out a pink little vibrator. König could already feel his pants begin to tighten. You walk to your bed, grabbing a towel that’s folded underneath the bed. Laying the towel out, getting your pillows situated, and moving the blanket. It’s almost like a ritual and König’s interest is definitely piqued. 

He watches as you lie down on the bed. Your pretty pussy covered with a little bit of hair, as you spread your legs he can see the pink within your folds. Fuck this is gold…

König quickly undoes his pants as he watches you pick a setting before moving it to your little clit. Through the window he can hear how loud you’re being, your legs twitch from the stimulation. All the while König stands there feverishly stroking his leaky cock. Imagining him running up to you and shoving his cock in that tight little pussy…

Your hips begin to grind into the vibrator as your head drops back on to your pillows. Your left leg is starting to tremble… König watches without blinking as your innocent pussy begins to squirt. Fingers replacing the vibrator, you start rubbing your clit quickly. Your sweet juices are spraying everywhere. He bites his lip as he begins to cum, accidently cumming on the siding of your house. It felt as if he were a wild animal and just marked you, leaving his scent behind to deter other predators.

This became a ritual for König as the school year went on. He would follow you around campus, watch who you talk to, see how you interact with the world. Occasionally he would try to go up to you and just talk nicely, but every time you shot him down. As if you’re better than him. Then he would follow you home and masturbate outside your window as you play with your tiny cunt.

That was until summer break happened. You went away to work as a camp counselor for the summer, leaving König behind. With you gone, König felt lost. He spent most of the summer inside watching porn. Looking for actresses that resemble you, but none could match your perfect breasts or pretty pink cunt.

August rolls around and classes start back up. König walks into his social science class and sees you… perfect. You sit in the front, middle. Teacher’s pet know-it-all, of course you’d pick there to sit.

König sits in the very back, where he has a clear line of view in your direction. He watches as you rest your head in the palm of your hand. How you cross your legs and squeeze, as if you’re trying to stimulate some sort of pleasure. Little slut, you can’t even control yourself in class. All the obsession comes rushing back to him. He needs you.

Halloween rolls around. König is handed a flier for a costume party that will be happening at one of the sororities here on campus.  His new friend Carl, your friend’s boyfriend, goes out with him to buy costumes.

 They both walk through the Halloween store and talk casually. He tries to think of ways to ask about you without being so direct.

“Is Christas bitch friend coming?” König chuckles to make it seem less important to him.

“Y/n? Probably not. She never shows to support anything Christa does. When she does, she’s in a foul mood and just leaves. It breaks Christas heart.” He sounded genuinely upset with you and your behavior.

“What’s her deal anyway?”

“I don’t know. Little stuck up virgin bitch thinks she’s better than Christa because she’s waiting until marriage.”

Virgin. That’s why you only touch your clit; you don’t want to “pop” your cherry.

“Is she religious?”

“Probably. I never cared to ask. Let’s just hope she doesn’t show up and ruin it.”

“Yeah.” König didn’t want you to show up, but for a very different reason. He had something special in the works.

Reaching up, König grabs a Ghostface mask and holds it up to his face. “Hey, what about this?”

.

.

Halloween night, König puts on the black robe over a pair of blue jeans, a white shirt, and a small satchel bag that has duct tape and rope. A real knife in his hand. He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, looking at himself. Blonde hair longer and pushed back, dark circles under her icy blue eyes, and a twisted look on his face.

“You got this. You can do it.” He whispers as he slips the mask over his face.

König leaves his shared apartment on campus and walks down the street while the sun is just beginning to set. Other students rush past him, all heading to their own Halloween parties. Towering over everyone dressed as Ghostface, he had a few people jump out of fear. From behind the mask, he apologizes while laughing. As if he is a normal guy.

Finally, he approaches the steps on the sorority. Walking inside he sees that there are a few other Ghostface at the party already. König rolls his eyes under the masks. His attention turns to the staircase as he hears Christa and Carl arguing. Without being seen, he walks closer to listen in. It’s clear that she’s talking about y/n.

You bailed. Probably home studying or making yourself squirt. The thought gives König a chub. You’re exactly where he hoped you would be. At first, he was nervous this wouldn’t work out for him. No, you never change. Easy to track. Before he is seen, he slips out of the doors.

He blends in easily for once in his life. Everyone dressed up like freaks or sluts. The giant isn’t the main focal point today. Once he enters your neighborhood, he notices the empty streets, but very loud house music. All of your neighbors seem to gather, yet your home's lights are on.

Cautiously, he approaches your living room window. Boom, there you are, asleep on the couch. The TV on TLC, some random trash television show. He attempts to lift the window in front of him, but it’s locked. Moving down a window to your bedroom, also locked. König walks around the back and tries the back door, locked. The kitchen window is a little smaller, but he still tries it. Open.

Carefully, König climbs through the window. His massive body just barely begins to fit, but he manages. Slowly he climbs off of the counter that was right under the window, being sure to not kick anything off the counter and possibly wake you up.

Once stable on the floor he stood there for a while and looked around your kitchen. Your style was quirky, which was odd because you act as if you have no personality. Before waking you up, he goes into the bedroom and gets that towel you keep under your bed. He lays it out on the bed the same way you do. Even arranging the pillows and blanket for you.

Reaching into his bag under his black robes, he takes out the rope and tape. The rope he leaves on the bed as he walks out of the bedroom with the tape. He pulls some and he can be quick to shut you up.

With soft steps he makes his way to the living room. He can see your hands are in your hands as if you fell asleep masturbating. A virgin whore. He’s ready to just make you into his whore. Standing over you as you sleep; eyes drifting over your breast and the tiny bit of midriff that is showing.

Slowly lowering his face closer to you until he sees your eyes open. At first it’s as if you didn’t register what you saw. König tilts his head. Then you open your eyes again and begin to scream. Quickly he covers your mouth with the tape.

“Shhh,” his eyes go wild behind the mask.

You try to stand and get away but his massive body easily overpowers yours and slams you back down into the couch.

“Don’t fucking move.” He hisses as he cuts the tape with the knife. Pulling more, he adds an extra layer.

With ease he lifts your body from the couch, pinning your arms to your side so you can’t hit him. Your legs kicking as he brings you into your room; eyes going wide as you see that he set the bed up the same way you set up when you masturbate.

König giggles looking at your face, “I did good, ja?”

He grabs the rope and tosses you on the bed. As you try to stand up, he pushes you back hard, “Give up Maus, you’re mine tonight.”

Using his massive body to pin you down, he climbs on top of you. Your face down into the mattress as he grabs one of your arms and pins it behind your back before grabbing the other. He uses the rope to tie your hands together, tight enough to dig into your flesh.

“I’ll show you how to have a really good time.”

König stands and grabs your body, turning you to rest on your back, nuzzled in the pillows like when you masturbate. He walks to your dresser and takes out the small pink vibrator. You look up at him with wide eyes, it’s clear that he’s been watching you.

“Now, don’t move, or I might cut you.” He says leaning back over your body as he begins to cut your shirt from your body. Your full breasts come into view and he can’t help the temptation of reaching up and pinching your nipple. You try to scream through the tape, but the sound is muffled.

His attention drops down to the waistband of your pajama pants. Slowly he pulls them down. Seeing your cunt face to face instead of at a distance was breathtaking. Speechless, he moves his fingers through the soft hair that covers your pussy. Finally, he can feel you, smell you, taste you.

“If you move, I’ll gut you.” He threatens as he begins to settle himself between your legs.

He lifts his mask slightly and takes in a deep breath of what your pussy smells like. It’s almost sinful. He has to taste it. Slowly he slips his tongue out and swipes it through your folds. You squirm slightly but stop, remembering the knife. He swipes his tongue up again. If he knew you were this sweet, he would have broken in sooner.

Shoving his face into your pussy he takes a deep breath before sucking on your clit. He bites it lightly, causing you pain as your body jerks away. Not letting you move; he wraps his arms around your legs tightly to hold you still. Spit running down his chin as he aggressively laps at your cunt. He slurps your pussy juice before biting your labia. Again, you jerk in pain and König just laughs as he pulls his mask back down.

Once he stands from the bed he just looks down at your naked body. He begins to pull off the black robe, tossing aside the satchel. Stripping down to his birthday suit, but the mask stays on. His body is massive with a cock so heavy it hangs.

He grabs your pink vibrator and turns it on, gently holding it to your clit. His eyes light up as your legs begin to tremble. Muffled little moans escaping your lips. You can’t help but to feel pleasure, even though you’re in this situation.

“Good…kleine Hure.” He turns off the vibrator and sets it aside. Inching closer to you, he slaps his cock on your pussy a few times.

“Ready?”

You shake your head no and try to scoot away from him, but he grabs your legs and drags you back to him. “No, no, no, you’re not getting away that easy.”

Looking down at your cunt he rubs the head of his cock back and forth over your clit. Slowly he slips down. With one hard thrust of his hips, he bullies his monster cock deep inside of your unused pussy. The tightness of your cunt was something only his hand had ever given him.

“Mien Gott, you really were a virgin.” He chuckled.

König grabs your legs and lets them fall over his arms as he holds your ass up off the bed slightly. His hips rolling rapidly into you, looking down he can see blood on his cock. A soft growl leaves his lips.

He lets your legs drop as he leans over you, one of his hands wrapping around your throat lightly. “My fat unprotected cock just ruined your pretty virgin cunt.”

You try to turn your head away from him as tears begin to roll down your eyes, but he doesn’t let you. He turns your head back to face him.

“Eyes open. I want to see the shame when I make you cum.”

You open your eyes as you have no choice but to listen. His free hand reaches down between your legs and begins to rub your clit. Trying to resist the pleasure was impossible, your legs tremble as your pussy feels as if it were torn in two.

He watches as you shake your head no. Your pussy getting tighter on his cock, he knew. He pulls out quickly, shoving his middle and ring finger into you. He presses down on the lower part of your stomach as his fingers curl, hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

You drop your head back and he slaps your pussy, “Eyes on me!” His voice a low growl.

Lifting you head back up to look at him, your eyes cross from the explosion of pleasure you’re feeling. You squirt, hitting the Ghostface mask slightly, getting it all over König’s hands and arms.

“That’s what I want to see!” He excitedly slips his cock back into your pussy. His eyes watch as you wince in pain.

His hips move mercilessly into you. “I’m going to cum deep inside of this pussy. You’re going to get pregnant with my babies. You like staying home anyway, right?”

The look on your face as he talks down to you is full of fear and it’s just enough to get him off. He presses his cock fully into you, your cries of pain muffled buts still so beautiful. König cums deep inside of you. His seamen painting every inch of your velvety walls. A loud groan leaves his mouth as he tries to press in even further.

The look on your face is almost relieved as he cums, that means this is over with. So, you thought. He pulls his cock out, covered in blood and cum. In one quick motion he flips you on to your stomach, pulling you down the bed a little. He sits on the bed now, one leg on either side of you. König leans forward to pull the tape off of your mouth and drags you closer to him by your shoulders.

“You’re going to clean this.” He says slapping his cock on your face a few times. “Open.”

You don’t struggle, opening your mouth wide. The taste of salty cum and blood assaults your taste buds. His hand grasping a fist full of hair and shoving his cock down your throat. Your body thrashes, legs kicking as you gag.

“Get used to it, Maus. My cock isn’t leaving your throat any time soon.”

[crimsonbubble]

Triple Bliss

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, poly hohong, dry humping, voyeur joong, semi clothed sex, implied oral, brief use of 'pup' *not proofread, just pure horny

[I'm not gonna say how I got here]

Stress gets to everyone. And everyone has their own way to relieve it. Some workout, some cook or bake, some draw or paint, some just need a nice meal.

But Yunho, wholeheartedly believes that sex is the best remedy for stress. So when Yunho came home with tense shoulders and a clenched jaw, it was game over. He dragged you up the stairs with him, taking note of the sound of the shower running.

He hastily pulled you into him, his grip tight on your hips. He pressed your back into the bed, desperately rutting his hips against yours. He moaned shamelessly into your mouth, letting you swallow down every sound that he made. His hips stuttered against yours, pressing his cock against the soaked cotton of your panties.

He parts from your lips, seeing the lewd string of saliva that connected your lips. Yunho kissed down your neck, nipping at your skin as his hands fumbled with your clothes. He hooked his thumbs into your shorts, tugging them down your legs. He throws them carelessly on the floor, keeping his focus on you.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, it was hard to tug his sweatpants down but the insistent push of his cock against your cunt made your legs weak. Yunho couldn't care less about taking your underwear off, so he just tugged the fabric to the side revealing your slick pussy for his perverse viewing.

Yunho smacked your pulsing clit with his tip, slipping his cock through your wet folds. Your back arched into him as he pushed in, your nails digging when he bottomed out. Yunho pressed chaste kisses along your collarbone and neck, as he slowly rocked his hips.

Your thighs twitched and tightened around his waist, your hands intertwining with his as his pace picked up. Yunho pressed his face into the crook of your neck as his thrusts became harsher. Yunhos hand left yours to hook your legs over his arms. He pressed further into you to shift your legs closer to your chest.

The new position made you feel him even deeper, unable to do anything but lay there are take it. You threw your head back as your first orgasm of the night ran through you. Yunho has no intentions of stopping just yet, his hands holding your waist as you tried squirming.

The shower had long since turned off, but you two are too entranced by one another to notice Hongjoong leaning against the doorway to the bathroom. It was only when Hongjoong walked over to you and turned your head to him that both of you finally realized he was here.

Joong quicker a brow at you as your eyes trailed down his half-naked body. There were still water droplets cascading down his skin from his wet hair. The tent under his towel was hard to miss, considering it was practically eye level with you. Yunho groaned at the way you suddenly clenched, eyeing the way you looked at Hongjoong.

Yunho tugged at the towel, watching your eyes widen comically. "You'll do better with your mouth, than with your eyes. Go on, don't keep him waiting, pup."

[nadvs]

out of bounds (part four)

pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader

rating mature 18+ for smut

summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.

» part one | two | three

» masterlist

At this point, there’s no way that you can change your mind. And no way that you’d want to.

Because once you lock your door behind Zach and he leans down to kiss you like he’s been starving for you, you forget why you were so insistent on following the rules in the first place.

His hand settles on your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin as his lips hungrily press against yours. His warm kiss and firm touch lull you into a state of pure bliss.

He steps an inch closer, kissing deeper, and your bodies curve into each other in a way that makes you feel like they were made to do this. When someone fits this well with you, you don’t know how you can possibly resist them.

You drag your hands over his damp showered hair and his every muscle tenses. He almost inaudibly moans against your mouth, gripping your hip.

The cotton of your towel bunching between his fingers is a reminder that you’re hardly covered right now, and he pulls back just enough for your lips to part.

He hopes he didn’t come on too strong. You invited him in and it’s like he sort of blacked out from excitement.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Do you want to change?” Zach mumbles through shallow breaths. “I won’t look.”

You smile against his lips, not surprised at all that he’s being so considerate about your comfort level.

You’re in a haze. Within minutes, your night has turned around to lead you here, standing in Zach’s arms in the solitude of your small cabin, both in agreement that you’ll start this, whatever this is, in secret.

You pull back a little more to look up and meet his eyes. Now that you can see his face again, you notice that he’s blushing, his cheeks flushed.

You wonder if it weren’t for the one rule forbidding you to do this, if you’d be as eager to be physical together so quickly. You’re sure Zach feels the same, having followed the same rule for so long.

“You alright?” he asks when you don’t answer. His worried eyes search your face as he towers over you. “Should I leave? I can leave if-”

“No,” you interrupt with a small, appreciative smile. “Stay. I’ll get into my pajamas.”

You realize you’re still holding onto the burn gel he came here with.

“And I should put this on since you went through the trouble,” you add.

You laugh to yourself when you see the way Zach sits in your desk chair, facing the wall with his head down, keeping his promise that he won’t look at you while you’re naked.

You want to take it slow with him, as if you met him outside of work, with no rule hanging over your heads. But that doesn’t mean you don’t want to do anything with him at all.

You come up behind him, sliding your hands over his broad shoulders, and he turns to gaze at you, drinking you in as you stand over him your shorts and tank-top.

His lap looks especially inviting, so you lean forward to straddle him. The fabric of his sweats is soft against your bare skin.

Zach is convinced he’s dreaming. He imagined this exact scenario, and now, he’s actually here, angling his head so your lips can meet again.

His thoughts are racing, an overlapping, tangled mess in his head. It’s unbelievable, wanting a girl this badly and actually having her like this, her weight on him, her tongue touching his.

He doesn’t get how he lucked out this much. A girl who struck him from the moment he saw her, turning out to have a heart and mind just as beautiful as she is, actually wants him back.

He can’t mess this up.

Your kisses grow deeper and your hips roll involuntarily, nudging against his groin. The way he called you worth the risk replays in your head. You’d hate to see this sweet man ruin his reputation and lose his job at a place he so deeply treasures all for you.

But when Zach’s big hands rest over the curves of your thighs, fingers digging into your skin as he squeezes, you forget about your concerns. He has a way of touching you that makes your mind go blank.

You inhale sharply as you pull in even closer, feeling how hard and big he is against your core. He lowers his head, your lips parting.

“Sorry,” he whispers, shuffling in his spot.

“For?” you chuckle.

Concern sits in Zach’s chest as he shifts again, mortified at the prospect of you feeling uneasy from how hard he is.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he admits.

You gaze down at him with pure admiration.

“I’m literally on top of you,” you tell him with a laugh. “I am not uncomfortable. I like you, remember?”

He smiles lazily, fingers grazing over your bare thighs in circles.

You keep your eyes trained on his expression when you grind up against him again. His jaw tenses and his lips part, immediately giving you the proof of just much you affect him.

“How come?” Zach asks. His eyes drift to your lips again, glossy from your kisses.

“How come I like you?” you ask.

He nods, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. You always got the sense he was more on the sensitive side underneath all the jokes. Last night on the dock proved it to you.

But you realize that he must really crave reassurance, considering he’d rather ask you what you see in him than continue to make out.

“You’re sweet,” you tell him, brushing his messy hair back. “And you’re funny.”

“You are, too.”

You gently glide your hand down his face, looking at the faint freckles peppered over his skin, surely from all his time in the sun.

“And you’re fun,” you continue. The way his eyes wash over your face in pure, awe-struck affection makes your stomach twist. “And hot.”

“I mean,” he mumbles, looking down at how hard he is pressed against you, “so are you. Obviously.”

You giggle and he gazes at you through half-lidded eyes, struck by how much he loves your laugh. How much he wants to make you laugh over and over.

“I like you, too,” Zach says, his tone low and velvety.

You could say that even though you had passing doubts at times, he made it pretty clear from the day you met by the way he stared and flirted that he liked you. But you don’t want to tease him. Not now, when he’s so vulnerable.

So, you lean forward to kiss him again, perched on his lap. Your foreheads press together as you deepen the kiss more than you ever have, mouths hot and open.

He’s hard as rock against you. His hands are kneading the underside of your thighs, inching closer to your ass.

You’re dazed when you pull back, not sure how long you’ve been making out. The position is starting to hurt and you’re hungry to feel all of him against you.

“Should we lie down?” you offer a bit nervously.

“Whatever you want.” He’s almost breathless. “Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

You smile, your noses nudging as you grind against him again.

“What, so you can call me bossy for the millionth time?” you joke.

“Yeah,” he rasps. “I like it when you’re bossy.”

“You do?”

He nods earnestly, enamored, wishing he could express just how twisted up you make him feel.

It makes you realize he really must have a thing for when you’re assertive, and maybe through all that teasing he did, you were turning him on.

For the first time, he’s pushy with you, nudging you to stand and guiding you onto your bed, looking down at you as you gently bounce when your back hits the mattress.

You gaze at him readily, watching him lower to hover over you, kissing you again. He’s not afraid of showing you how hot you’ve got him anymore, bucking his hips as he grinds between your legs.

You let out a shaky sigh when he shifts to kiss your neck, his tongue warm against your skin. You run your fingers up and down over his hair and he starts to kiss harder over your throat.

“Be careful,” you giggle. “If you leave marks, people might see.”

“Sorry,” Zach mumbles, pulling back. “You’re right.”

His kisses are so tender and hungry that you don’t want him to stop.

“Go lower,” you whisper. “Where only you can see.”

He moves like he has seconds left before he has to part from you. His wet mouth is on your chest, right by the hem of your tank-top, where he knows your work shirt will cover.

It’s damn near intoxicating to him, knowing this is your little secret, lying on top of you in your bed, feeling you like this.

Zach leaves kisses all over, his hand cupping your jaw. Your head is resting on your soft pillow, eyes shut as he trails kisses over your cleavage, not dipping below your shirt.

When you feel him stop, you look down to meet his hazy blue eyes. He shifts to bring his fingers to the strap of your top, silently asking if he can pull down the only piece of fabric covering your chest.

You nod and watch him look down as he undresses you, pushing the straps past your shoulders. The tank top bunches up at your waist and he sharply inhales once he sees you bare.

“Oh, my God,” Zach murmurs huskily. “I can’t…”

“What?” you ask. He meets your eyes, slightly shaking his head.

“I can’t believe I get to see you like this.”

Your skin pricks with heat as he gazes down at you again and brings his warm hand to cup your breast. He dips his head to kiss your sternum, burying his face and letting out a small groan as he gently squeezes your flesh.

You sigh contently, never having felt so wanted before. You can tell he sincerely feels lucky to be here right now.

Your skin is so soft and you smell so damn good and once he locks his lips around your nipple, making you breathe shakily, he’s sure he’s never been harder in his life.

All you can hear over your own heavy breathing is Zach’s mouth puckering over your skin. You know there’ll be bruises from how hard he’s sucking.

Your breasts are wet with his spit from all the attention he’s giving you. By the time he straightens up to look at your face again, he almost looks drunk.

His mouth and tongue and jaw are so sore from losing himself in the pleasure, but it’s so damn worth it.

He lowers to kiss you and his lips move slowly on yours. With the heat of arousal in your stomach, you trail a hand down his firm body. You press your palm against his cock, wrapping your fingers around his thickness over his sweats.

“Is this alright?” you ask quietly.

“Yes, I’m…” Zach breathes a nervous chuckle, his breath hot against your cheek. “If you keep going, I’m not gonna last long.”

“That’s okay.”

“I’m not always like this,” he stammers nervously. “I didn’t expect tonight to happen.”

You start to slowly rub his length, shocked yet again by his size.

“I take it as a compliment,” you say in a hush. As you continue to stroke him, you’re sure it’d take some time to adjust to him once you decide to go all the way. “You’re big.”

Zach grips your wrist, guiding your hand away. Your touch is already driving him crazy. The praise will make him come in a second.

“You first,” he breathes, desperately hoping you want him to touch you. “If you want it.”

You take a long, eager breath. The anticipation makes your core tighten as you take back control and direct his hand between your legs.

Even through the fabric of your shorts and panties, Zach can feel how wet you are. He’s already imagining how good you must taste.

He whispers a groaned fuck when he presses his fingers against you. His lips lock around the side of your neck as he rubs between your legs, and while it feels incredible, you have to remind him he can’t leave proof of tonight on your skin.

But before you can, he seems to remember, breathing out a sigh as he pulls his mouth off of your neck to kiss your lips. His pressure is firm, his movements slow, the friction making you writhe beneath him.

It’s a whirlwind being like this, feeling him massage between your legs as he kisses you. When you moved into this cabin just over a week ago, you never would have dreamed you’d be touched and kissed on this bed by the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

You moan and arch your back when he finds your clit, rubbing in circles. You can feel his satisfied smile against the corner of your mouth.

He’s hard against your thigh, tracing shapes on you, bringing you to an intense orgasm.

Zach is in another world when he feels you trembling through your peak. He pulls back to prop himself onto his elbow, solely to watch the way your features contort as pleasure hits you.

“That feel good?” he breathes. “You’re so damn pretty.”

You smile as you come down from the high. He continues to touch you, gentler now. He loves that he’s the reason behind the blissed out expression on your face.

You let out a tired laugh as you cup his cheek adoringly. You sit up for a moment to kiss him, then shift to feel him over his pants again.

Zach’s stops breathing for a second, adjusting to settle on his knees as he lies over you. Hungry lips meet yours as you stroke his length.

Your tight grip around his cock is perfect and he starts to rock his hips, fucking your hand, imagining he’s inside of you and already both excited and nervous to get to that step with you if you’ll let him.

You pull back from the kiss as you think about how much he seems to love reassurance. You decide to take the risk and see how he’ll respond if you praise him some more.

“You made me finish so fast,” you whisper, meeting his eyes.

“Fuck,” he breathes in awe, thrusting against you. “Please keep talking like that. Please.”

You bite your lip, a little nervous, but push through to tell him what you’re really thinking.

“I can’t believe how big you are,” you tell him. “I don’t know how you’ll fit.”

“Fuck,” he says again, his voice straining. You feel him get even harder before he starts throbbing in your hand.

His hot cheek is pressed against yours as he rides the high, jerking against you. You feel heat fill the fabric separating you and he collapses, making an effort to hold himself up so not to put all his weight on you.

Your chests rise and fall together, touching every so often in a broken rhythm.

It’s like he’s high right now. You know just what to do and just what to say.

“I’ll be right back,” he eventually says. He leaves a kiss on your shoulder before he stands to rush to the bathroom and clean himself up.

When Zach comes back out, you’re sitting on your bed, dressed again. The mattress sinks with this weight as he settles across from you.

“You were right,” he says, gently pushing you back so you lie down again, making you laugh. “We didn’t last six weeks.”

“Not even close,” you reply.

He’s on his elbow, lying beside you, lips parted, eyes searching your face.

“You’re so pretty,” he says softly.

“You said that already,” you tease. The way he’s looking at you and the fact that he said it again after the heat of the moment has passed tells you he really believes it.

Zach sighs and looks down, dimples framing the defeated smirk on his face.

“What?”

“It’s gonna be hard keeping you a secret,” he says. “But I think we shouldn’t tell anyone. Not even other counselors. Nobody. Just in case.”

Relief fills you. You figured this wasn’t just a one-time thing, considering your conversations and how he mentioned going on a date with you after the season wraps up. But it’s nice to get the confirmation that he wants to keep doing this. Because you do, too.

“Of course,” you say, nodding. You know he has a great deal to lose if this comes out.

He leans over to kiss you, his lips still tender. He can’t stop thinking about what you whispered to him, that he might not fit.

“Hey, I’ll… I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt, okay?” he says. “If you want to ever… go that far with me.”

You nod, glad you can speak so openly with him.

“I do,” you say. He smiles, then takes your hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.

“How’s your burn?” he asks, gazing down at your arm.

“I honestly forgot about it.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of a great distraction,” Zach says.

You watch him sit up and stand to collect the gel he brought that you left on your dresser.

You’ve caught on to how normally, he likes to sarcastically play up his confidence, but during intimate moments, he’s vulnerable and sensitive. It makes him all the more interesting to you.

Zach lies back down next to you, applying the gel onto your forearm, his face crinkled in concern as he stares at your injury.

“It’s really not that bad,” you say, watching the way his pointer and middle finger gently run over your skin, reminding you of how they felt between your legs just minutes ago.

“I’m not buying your tough guy act,” Zach replies with a smirk.

“Excuse me?” you laugh.

“Everyone knows girls who play soccer pretend they’re fine when they’re not,” he says. “And guys who play soccer are crybabies.”

“True,” you laugh. It’s a running joke that you’re well aware of. Male athletes exaggerate injuries on the pitch, while women have a reputation for continuing to play after a fall or collision like nothing happened.

“But that’s just during a game,” you say. “If I’m in pain off the field, you’ll know. I’ll tell you.”

“You better.” Zach’s sits up to blow cool air onto your skin where he just applied the gel, as if taking care of you is an instinct to him.

He closes the tube and leans over to toss it onto your desk, but it slides too far and knocks over a few things that clatter onto the wood floor.

“Crap,” he laughs. “Sorry.”

“Stay away from any sports involving throwing,” you tease.

“You saying I’m bad with my hands?” he murmurs as he lies beside you on your pillow. “You weren’t complaining a minute ago.”

You chuckle, gazing at him as you both lie on your sides, facing each other.

“The ego,” you reply with a laugh.

Zach smirks, shifting to kiss you slowly, revelling in the way you taste. He’s not going to forget how pretty you looked when you came. How nice you sounded when you complimented him.

When he pulls back from the kiss, he swallows disappointment, knowing it must be past ten o’clock by now and that it’s best for both of you to get your rest.

“I should probably make a run for it,” he says.

“Great pillow talk,” you tease.

“I just mean because it’s late,” he laughs. “And Malcolm will wonder where I was. I can’t tell him the truth.”

“Do you have to be so responsible all the time?” you say with an exaggerated groan. He loves how open you are about how you don’t want him to leave. He doesn’t want to leave, either.

“Yeah, I’m being real responsible right now,” he replies sarcastically.

Your smile falters.

“Are you sure you want to keeping doing this?” you say. His brows furrow, realizing that his joke made him came across as regretful. In reality, he wouldn’t take back tonight for anything.

“I didn’t mean it to sound like that,” he says. “I talk before I think sometimes. Sorry.”

You nod understandingly, still not entirely at ease.

“I’m sure,” he reassures you. “But if it makes you feel weird-”

“That’s not it,” you interrupt. “You have so much to lose if we get caught. If I get fired, yeah, it’d suck, but if you get fired, it’s… so much worse.”

Zach exhales slowly. This is part of the reason he likes you so much. How considerate you are of his situation. He loves this place and its people. Getting caught breaking this rule would be a stain on his reputation.

But he’s confident you can both hide it.

“I’ve seen a lot of staff date and never get caught,” he tells you. “We’ll keep it on the down-low. I’m totally sure I want to do this with you. A hundred and five percent.”

“And five, huh?” you say with a quiet chuckle.

“That five is crucial,” he replies.

“You’re a goofball.”

Zach chuckles and kisses your cheek before sitting up. He sits on the edge of your bed, pulls his phone out of his pocket, and opens the weekly schedule in the staff group-chat.

“No drills together tomorrow,” he says, the disappointment clear in his tone. “But Monday, we’re on the east field in the morning. And Malcolm has an overnight on Wednesday. My cabin will be free.”

He looks over at you to see you perched up on your hand, smirking at him.

“What?” he says.

“It’s just cute that you’re already scheming for when we can hang out again,” you reply.

He laughs and kisses you one last time before sneaking out.

The next day, you and Zach catch each other staring nearly every time your paths cross. You can’t forget how he felt lying over you, kissing as he touched you, panting as you touched him.

Any time you’re near each other, it’s a thrill to think that you know what his kisses feel like and how hard he gets for you.

Monday marks day ten of the season, and when you stand beside Zach on the touchline as campers run through their morning warm-ups, you wonder if he feels as tense as you do being so close to each other and not being able to touch.

“You want to lead the drill or get the pylons?” Zach says as both of you stare ahead at the field under the cloudless sky.

“I’ll get the pylons,” you say, looking back at the closest storage shed. “We need four, right?”

“You got it, newbie.”

You turn but he stops you.

“One more thing,” he says.

You meet his eyes, the tension between you thick. Zach can barely take this. He can’t stop picturing the way you looked on your bed. The way your lips felt. The way you touched him.

It’s its own form of agony, having to act like you’re just a coworker to him when you’re all he thinks about. You’re so beautiful, standing just a few feet away from him but so painfully out of reach.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“Do you know if there’s a way to like, professionally hold hands?”

You laugh and flash him an unimpressed expression.

“Don’t think so,” you say.

“Damn.” He licks his lips and smiles at you before you walk away.

Not surprisingly, the shelves are a mess. You’ve heard the directors and vets over the walkies reminding counselors to tidy up the storage spaces over and over. They hardly ever do.

You search through the choas for a minute before Zach’s voice stops you.

“All good?” he asks, stepping in past the open door.

“It’s a mess in here,” you say, pointing to the three pylons you found on the floor. “I’m just looking for one more.”

Zach steps into the small, cluttered space, a foot away from you as his eyes trail over the top shelf.

“Think I see one,” he says. You could move out of the way, but you don’t, so his chest presses against you as he reaches over you.

Zach collects the pylon and looks down at you as he lowers his hand. Your stares are fixed on each other. You’re alone for the first time since Saturday night, and to him, that feels like an eternity ago.

“Thanks,” you say.

“You’d be lost without me.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, pushing against his firm chest. Instead of moving back, Zach leans into your touch, his grip on your wrist featherlight as he dips his head to kiss you.

You surrender completely, as if your body is the one in control, pushing you to do what it wants instead of listening to logic that this is risky.

Your lips part with a quiet smack.

“It sucks that I can’t do that whenever I want,” he says in a low voice.

“Yeah,” you agree. You swallow hard and take the pylon from his hand. “We should go.”

When you step out of the shed, Zach following, you’re startled by one of your campers coming around the corner. Two seconds earlier and she would’ve seen you kissing.

“Hey,” you say kindly, hiding your nerves. “What’s up?”

“Can I go get my hat from the cabin?” she says, blocking the sun with her hand.

“Of course.”

After you finish set-up, your heart still racing, Zach guides the kids through the drill. Once you’re standing next to him at the touchline again, you see him shaking his head in your peripheral.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles to you. “That was so stupid of me.”

You look up at him to see his brows turned down, clearly ashamed. You don’t need to say it. You both know how badly that could have ended.

“I didn’t exactly stop you,” you say.

Zach’s lips turn into a small, but genuine smile, endeared that you’re not mad at him. He’s eager to push the conversation into easy territory again, but thankfully, you seem to have the same idea.

“You just can’t stay away from me,” you tease. He chuckles.

“Guilty.”

Zach crosses his arms. You have no doubt if dating was allowed, he’d be touching you right now. He’s more affectionate than you thought. It makes you like him even more.

“I won’t do that again,” he says.

“You won’t kiss me?” you joke quietly.

“Not in a public area. In private is… a different story.”

You share a knowing smile. The secret between you is safe. You’re determined to keep it that way.

On Tuesday night, you and Zach chat during free-time when you notice Oliver and Jemma hanging out by the fire. The young boy seems at ease again, talking to his new friend. Zach can’t stop thinking about how much he admires you for helping him out.

A minute after lights out, Zach gets a call on his walkie from Tom, asking him to meet him at the campground office.

Even though he’s not one to worry much, when he does worry, it gets near catastrophic. He’s on edge that he got caught for breaking the no-dating rule. He feels like a little kid going to the principal’s office.

The mood isn’t tense when he enters the small office. He sees a couple of counselors sitting and chatting with Ruby at the back desk. It’s one of his favorite things about this place, how staff like to hang out like this, comfortable with the directors.

And it’s a relief. If he were in trouble, other people wouldn’t be here.

Tom is sitting at the computer when he waves Zach over.

“How tired are you?” Tom asks. Zach clues in immediately.

“What do you need?” he replies.

His uncle offers him a smile and a piece of notepad paper with a list of needed supplies. He’s used to this, running out into town every so often for odds and ends.

It’s a reminder of how much his aunt and uncle trust him. He tries not to think about how he’s been hiding something from them for days now.

“Malcolm’s not on an overnight if you want some help,” Tom suggests. “And keep the-”

“Receipt,” Zach says. “Got it.”

As Zach heads out of the office, he doesn’t even have to think about it. He wants to go with you. He’ll think of an excuse for why he didn’t take his best friend later.

He texts you: You down to go buy some stuff with me? This is strictly a work event.

You just got in your cabin when you see his message. With a soft chuckle, you reply: i accept, and tell Ami you’re going into town to run an errand and rush out before she can ask for any details.

Zach gets out of his work clothes, exchanging quick greetings with Malcolm in their cabin and vaguely mentioning that he’ll be back later, then he meets you in front of your cabin.

You come down to the dirt path with quick steps, a sweet smile on your face.

“What are we buying?” you ask.

He holds up the list. Normally, with Malcolm, who tagged along any time Zach was asked to go into town for an errand, they’d split up the list for efficiency.

But Zach doesn’t care about efficiency right now. He just wants to hang out with you.

“All you have to do is keep me company,” he says. You set out towards the parking lot together, your shoes crunching over the dirt and rocks.

“And this counts as work?” you say. “Nice.”

“My uncle said I can go with Malcolm, but no offense, I’m obviously gonna pick you.”

You smile, your cheeks warm.

“No way you said that to Tom,” you laugh.

“Nah, I just left,” Zach says. “I’ll come up with something if he sees us.”

When you sit in his car, in between conversation, you notice Zach makes sure your seatbelt is on before he starts driving.

The supermarket in town is large, bright, and quiet, with on an hour left before close. As you pace together through the aisles, you ask him, “How many times have you been here?”

“Lost count,” he says.

It feels strange for some reason, knowing that everything you’re seeing for the first time at work and in town is stuff Zach has been seeing for years. He has a whole history of summers here behind him, with long-standing relationships with so many of your coworkers.

You continue to chat as you shop, eventually entering an aisle to see tin cans scattered across the floor.

Zach sighs in frustration before picking up the cans that other shoppers have clearly just pushed to the side. You admire how kindness is second-nature to him.

“You’re so sweet,” you say, helping him.

“What else am I?” he asks. You chuckle. This man loves compliments.

“Considerate.”

“Yeah?” he continues. “And?”

“What, do you want me to call you a good boy?” you reply with a laugh.

It was a joke, but by the way Zach shyly looks down, you can tell it had an effect on him.

“Noted,” you say a bit timidly, putting the last can up on the shelf. “So, what’s next?”

Once you cross off the last thing on the list, you finally gain the courage to ask if there’s a pharmacy.

“Yeah, what do you need?” Zach asks. “Is something hurting you? Is it your burn?”

“No,” you laugh. “I just want to take a look.”

After you walk through the department, you realize that while you feel plenty comfortable with Zach, saying what you’re looking for out loud is too nerve-wracking.

“So?” he says once you reach the end of the aisle. Even after what you did with him the other night, it’s embarrassing to say.

“I’m ready to go,” you mumble. He can see by the way you’re avoiding eye contact that you’re nervous.

“What is it?” he laughs. “Get whatever you need. I’m not going to judge you. Would it be better if I gave you some privacy?”

You swallow your nerves, looking away from him.

“If we…” You sigh. “You know what we talked about? I think it’s good to be prepared.”

His brows furrow, confused amusement on his face.

“I’m so lost,” Zach says with a grin. You put your hands on your hips.

“Maybe prepared isn’t the right word,” you say. “Protected.”

He stares at you for a moment. Finally, he catches on that you’re talking about condoms.

“Oh,” he says, his cheeks burning. “Yeah. It’s good to be... You’re right. Um, let’s - we can go see what they have.”

“Okay,” you reply. “I was just thinking it’d - like, if we’re in the situation-”

“And we don’t have anything,” Zach understands, “that’d suck. Right. Yeah.”

You both laugh now that it’s out in the open, a little less tense. He can’t believe how weak he is for you, considering that merely talking about the potential of having sex makes arousal rush through his body so fast.

Tomorrow night, he has his cabin to himself. You both are very aware of the fact that you’re one sleep away from having complete privacy again. He already thought he couldn’t wait. This is a new level of impatience.

Soon, you’re standing next to each other in front of the shelves of mutlicolored boxes. Silence passes between you.

“In case I didn’t say it, I’m really glad you came here with me,” he says. You laugh and nudge his shoulder.

“Pick one,” you say.

“You know I’m bad at making decisions.”

“Consider this an opportunity to get better at it, then.”

Zach breathes a laugh, scratching his cheek as he looks at the options.

“Any day now,” you say after a few moments.

“Cut it out,” he smirks. Finally, he picks up a box and holds in front of you. “You approve?”

“Wow,” you say. On the front of the box, in white letters reads: Enhanced for her pleasure. “Um, yeah. That’s good.”

“You sure?”

“A hundred and five percent,” you tease. “It’s nice of you to pick that one.”

He shrugs with a sly smile, putting the box in the cart.

“There has to be some red flag I’m missing,” you say. “You’re kind of too perfect.”

Zach laughs again, pushing the cart down the aisle as you follow. You hook your hand in the crook of his elbow. He loves the feeling of your touch, shifting to cup your hand in his.

“Then, let’s figure what my red flag is,” he plays along.“I’m indecisive.”

“You were just decisive ten seconds ago,” you say with a laugh. “Not a red flag.”

“I’m messy,” he admits.

“Also not a red flag,” you say. His car isn’t pristine, but it isn’t necessarily trashed, either.

Zach figures if this subject is open, he might as well let everything out.

“I don’t always say it when stuff bothers me,” he tells you. Every ex-girlfriend has had this issue with him and he hates that he can never seem to break the habit.

“Well, that’s not really a red flag, either, I don’t think,” you say. “Why do you think you do that?”

“I’d just rather… be happy, you know?” he confesses, keeping his eyes ahead. “I spent so much of my childhood sad. I saw the way it affected my parents. Getting over stuff on my own is easier for everyone.”

You can’t find the words to say right away. This glimpse into his soul tells you so much. And truthfully, it makes you a little nervous. If you upset him, what’ll he do? Just swallow the pain and never tell you?

But, you get it. From what he’s confided in you, you understand that he must’ve felt guilty as a kid when his parents spent so much time desperately tried to find ways to make him happy.

It’s heartbreaking. He was bullied for being quiet and now, as an adult, he’s quiet in a new way, hiding his sadness.

“Is it really easier for you, though?” you say softly. “How you feel matters. It’s not something you need to hide for other people’s comfort.”

Zach squeezes your hand, gazing down at you. He’s never met someone who can joke with him one second, then treat him with so much empathy the next. It’s just what he needs.

“How much for the therapy session?” he asks. You smile, already used to how he prefers to navigate out of tense conversations.

“First one’s free.”

You make it to the register and as you help unload the cart, Zach points to the array of candy on the rack by the magazines.

“Let’s see if you can get this right,” he asks. “What’s the best snack here?”

You point to your favorite candy, telling him it’s obvious. When he picks up the bag, you realize he asked just to buy a treat for you.

“You tricked me,” you laugh. “You don’t have to buy me anything.”

“It’s the least I can do. You made a trip to this store fun for once.”

Zach separates the purchases, looking a bit awkward when the cashier scans the condoms, saying he doesn’t need a receipt for ‘the box’. You can’t help but giggle.

He doesn’t let you carry anything on the way to the car. You settle in the passenger seat, happily accepting the bag of candy he hands you. His car roars to life and he drives out of the parking lot.

You fill the fifteen-minute drive with conversation and laughter while you feed him pieces of candy every so often.

You make it onto the campground, hiding the box of condoms in your bag as you step out. You plan to head to your cabin while he drops off the supplies at the office, but once you pass the dining hall, you see a familiar figure in the dark. It’s Tom.

“Crap,” he whispers. “Remember when I said I’d think of something? I didn’t.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I’ll talk.”

Tom greets you both, playfully asking Zach why he roped in a newbie to help him with a chore.

“It was all me,” you say with a laugh. “I ran into him at the perfect time and begged to go so I could get a snack. Poor guy had no choice.”

Your boss doesn’t seem fazed, making friendly conversation and confirming with Zach that he can drop the bags off in the office, where Ruby should still be, before you part ways.

Once he’s out of earshot, Zach sighs.

“Nicely done,” he says, impressed.

“All I could think about was the condoms in my bag falling out,” you whisper, earning a laugh from him. “That was terrifying.”

Once you reach the fork between the office and the staff cabins, you wish you could kiss him goodnight. Instead, you offer a smile.

“Thanks for the invite,” you say.

“Thanks for coming,” Zach says. He doesn’t move. He stands across from you, his eyes on you under the moonlight.

“You okay?” you ask with a quiet giggle.

“Yeah.” He’s more than okay. You’ve thrown him and everything in his life for a loop in the best way. It’s wild how he misses you before you’re even gone. “Get some rest, alright?”

“And I’m bossy?” you joke, stepping away. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

As you pace away from him down the trail, Zach watches your silhouette, and he’s sure that if you didn’t already have a piece of his heart, you do now.

(part five)

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[mjolnirswriststrap]

Just Another Notch

Masterlist PART 1/? PART 2

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size F!Reader

Summary: If Bucky thinks his charms will work on you, then you’re gonna put up one hell of a fight to prove him wrong.

Word Count: 1,473

Warnings: None, but future chapters will hold explicit content, read everything at your own discretion.

You remember the first time Bucky really looked your way, like it was yesterday. It was late, the core team all went out for drinks, no room for any trainees. They were just returning. You could hear everyone hooting and hollering before they got off the elevator.

You wouldn’t say you were particularly close to any of them. Sure you worked together, but that’s as deep as it got. They all seemed like family to one another, it wasn’t the same for the revolving door of interns and new trainees.

You watch as everyone passes the kitchen door, not even glancing to investigate the yellow glow emitting from it. You stirred the bowl of granola and milk, it was subconscious, something that instantly cleansed your mind of the pompous heroes. The smell of cinnamon fills your nose when you bring a spoonful of oats and almonds to your mouth.

You accidentally places the spoon down a little too hard, causing a metal and ceramic ring to chime. The last one out of the elevator heard it, stopping in their tracks at the kitchen door. “Cereal sounds perfect right now.” He says, walking towards the refrigerator. You don’t respond to him, you just start chewing faster, wanting to concede and hide in your room.

You keep your eyes down, listening to his sloppy movements, over the sound of your crunching. When the pale bottom of the bowl begins to show you slip from the the bar stool situated opposite of the kitchen island to the sink. You would either have to walk all the way around or slip past Bucky for a faster escape.

Rinse the bowl, put it in the dishwasher, turn on the garbage disposal, and run before he says another word. You decided to cut corners, stepping behind Bucky pouring his cereal. You don’t expect him to step backwards and knock your bowl of milk and mushy cereal all over your white cotton pajamas.

He turns, quickly apologizing and grabbing paper towels. “I didn’t even see you there, I’m sorry.” He takes it upon himself to wipe and dab the milk from your front. You clear your throat, you’re deciding to blame it on his drunkenness as to why he thinks it’s okay to touch your breasts like this. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing wrong, he’s just helping you clean up. But he’s coasted over your cold wet nipple one too many times, it’s beginning to peek through the fabric.

“It’s fine. I should go.” You say, against better judgment you gingerly toss the bowl into the sink and make way for the kitchen door. “Wait.” He grabs your arm, spinning you back. “Get me back.” His tone is serious.

“What?” Pure confusion fills your face. “Spill milk on my shirt. So we’re even.” You laugh lightly. How chivalrous, “Thanks for the sentiment, but ruining your nice button down isn’t gonna unsoil my nightshirt. You’re good, I swear.” You say, not really wanting to throw milk on the best assassin in the world. What if he remembers tomorrow and decides to have a vendetta with you because of it?

“Fine, but now I owe you, and I would rather pay up now.” He crossed his arms infront of him. A playful smile on his lips. Your heart was pounding a thousand miles a minute, the second he walked in all you wanted was to escape. “Wash that bowl for me please.” You say, running out of the kitchen, solving two problems in one.

When you make it to your room you’re mortified as you look in the mirror. Your white cotton had turned see through, your nipples on full display. No matter how drunk Bucky was, you knew he noticed that. You rub your forehead as you replay the moment back, wondering what went wrong. Wondering why he even stepped back in the first place.

He was drunk, sure. But a super soldier of his status rarely loses their footing, no matter the circumstance. It felt intentional now that you analyze the situation. He didn’t move from that spot. It took you more than a minute to finish your cereal. He should’ve already been sitting down, eating. He was waiting for you to move first.

Your phone buzzes beside you, it’s your best friend. A Snapchat video awaits you, while you run to your bathroom to fix your messy situation. When you emerge from the tiny water closet your phones lighting up again. Another Snapchat but it’s a message this time.

You swipe right on her animated icon, “My data is shit and that video took 20 minutes to send.” You stifle a laugh and tap the purple square. Your phone starts blasting house music and you rush to turn it down. The flashing lights distract your eyes from the highlighted caption on the screen, “the avengers are here 😱” you toss your head back in annoyance. You’d reminded her plenty of times that they’re not celebrities, plus they’re kinda assholes. Ever since you started working here, all of the pedestals you put them on crashed to the ground. None of them were perfect.

You look back at the screen and see a familiar figure in the background, it’s Bucky, holding a water bottle. You squint your eyes, wondering if you’re over reacting, you need to prove something to yourself. You let the video play through, texting your friend back to ask an unconventional question.

“When exactly did you take that video?” You lay down in bed and wait for her to reply. Your phone chimes.

“Like I said, probably around 20 minutes ago. They left right after. Your eye candy didn’t seem like he was having a good time 😬” you read the words and can’t help but groan, she was really getting on your nerves tonight. You mention one time, sophomore year, that you thought the winter soldier was hot. Five years later, she still hasn’t given it up, even after you began working with him.

You stopped feeling that way once you saw his personal revolving door that connected to the new trainees one. He really doesn’t help their return rate. You bet half of them run for the hills in pitiful heartbreak. You had to admit, his proximity and diligence in trying to clean your shirt, was hot. Your a woman of the people, you can’t deny his attractiveness because of his personality.

So if what you saw is true, that means Bucky sure as hell wasn’t drunk when he got home less than 10 minutes later. Why would he do that to you? It was sleazy, and definitely would’ve worked on anyone else. You just couldn’t fathom the possibility of him coming on to you. He’d never spoke to you before.

Not like you expected him to, you were far out of his wheel house of girls. You were recruited for your strength. And with that came fat. You never thought anything of it growing up, you knew you were stronger than the other girls because you were bigger than them. But as you got older you became stronger than all the boys too. Your parents took you to a specialist, you were only 9. That’s when the doctor sat you down and told you that your strength was within, your muscles were mutated, it had been so since birth, benign till now. He said your muscles were the worlds strongest rubber bands, operating on your mental will power to use them, you’d only ever be as strong as you believed you were.

You knew and believed you were stronger than all the girls, so your muscles allowed it. You grew in weight and height, towering over some boys and definetly larger in size than them, so you believed you must be stronger than them, so your body allowed it. When you got around the age of 16, your parents let you explore your mutation more. Letting you hop in the fighting octagon with a man triple your size. You were confident in your mutation, therefore you were confident you could beat him. It was a cycle that won you many championships, and medals, before people started asking too many questions and you had to get a real job, doing something for the greater good, like contract killing for shield. Or offering your services to the avengers to only be treated like a lowly high school office intern.

You weren’t his type, that much was clear, so what’s his motive? Toy around with you for sick twisted fun? You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He’s going to have no effect on you if this is how he intends to play. You put your phone on the charger, checking your alarm, before you force yourself to fall asleep, a long day of training awaits you.

[tejuskumar13]

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[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, specially not from the house next door. "

Warning: (oh my Lord, where do I start? 🤭) Smut, smut, and smut! Slapping, dirty talk, sloppy oral sex, licking, nipple and chest worship, fluffy, name calling, asking for consent is sexy! 😋

A/N: Hi everyone! I said I would be back earlier than usual (please don't get used to it 🙏). Usually, my weeks are busy with work, but since I had to stay home, I managed to organize the story faster. Just heads up that there is smut, and yes, things happen quickly. I had already warned you 🤷‍♀️. It's not the first smut I've written, but it is the first one I'm posting. Am I a little embarrassed? Yes, but whatever. I hope you enjoy it and that it turns out great. Have fun 😈.

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Chapter 4

A deep, pleasurable sound escapes my throat as his mouth presses against mine. It feels like I’m finally taking a breath after holding it for far too long.

His tongue doesn’t wait for permission to invade my mouth; it slips in between my lips, entwining with mine, sucking and biting, dominating me in a dance that leaves no room for hesitation. A low growl escapes his throat as I tangle my fingers in his hair, reflecting on all the times he provoked me, fully aware of the effects he has on me.

My hands move instinctively, pulling him closer, fingertips grazing the hard planes of his abdomen until there’s no space left between us. His warm skin glides under my palm, and I dig my nails into his back. Contrary to what I expected, he doesn’t retreat or complain; instead, he bites my lower lip and his hands slide from my waist to my buttocks, squeezing me firmly, exploring every inch of my body. He delivers a sharp slap to my ass, the sound echoing in the room making my panties grow even wetter. Oh God, I’m going to hell.

His thigh presses between my legs, and before I can fully grasp his intentions, I pull away from his face to catch my breath. He grips my hip tightly, rocking me gently, sending waves of warmth to the pit of my stomach–a sensation so intoxicating that it consumes me entirely. Inadvertently, I start moving on my own, using the tips of my toes for balance and his shoulders for leverage. I’m so lost in the sensations, using his smooth skin and warmth for my own pleasure, that I’m blindsided when Jungkook suddenly lifts me onto his lap, never breaking the kiss.

I let out a small, surprised squeak as he lays me back onto the bed. The shock intensifies when the towel slips away, leaving us both breathless. My cheeks burn with embarrassment, and almost involuntarily, I avert my gaze to the ceiling. I hear his laughter beside the bed, and curiosity gets the better of me; I peek at him. His body is sculpted and strong, broad shoulders adorned with dark tattoos that only amplify his allure. I try to look away, but it’s nearly impossible.

My eyes wander to his erect member–large, its head the same color as his pink lips. The sight of his trimmed pubic hair stirs a mixture of desire and unease within me. My heart races, feeling as if it might burst from the intensity of it all. Jungkook doesn’t give me time to gather my thoughts; he crawls towards me on his knees, capturing my mouth with his once more.

“You’re blushing,” he remarks with a proud smile, slipping his hand under the cotton blouse I’m wearing. I gasp as his fingers trail over my stomach, teasing my navel. “Take off your shirt; I want to see you better.”

“Jungkook…” I moan weakly, feeling his tongue glide from my jaw to my collarbone. He uses his teeth and lips to suck on my skin, and my thoughts scatter, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “Come on, take it off. I want to see you naked.”

“I... I don’t know. I’m nervous.”

“Will you let me do it for you?” he asks, his tone understanding, as if he senses the tension radiating from me but finds it enticing. I nod in silent agreement. He studies my expression for a moment, biting his lower lip, pushing back his damp hair.

His right hand returns to my waist, this time with a gentle touch, his fingertips gliding over my stomach as if I were made of glass. I swallow hard as he slowly begins to lift my blouse. My skin is exposed, and my breasts finally liberated, illuminated by the bright light of the room. Embarrassment floods me, and I instinctively cover my nipples with my arms. My breath quickens, and in the back of my mind, I picture my mother; a shiver of guilt running down my spine, twisting the moment into something fraught with apprehension, as if I’m committing the greatest mistake of my life and only just now realizing it. Jungkook notices my distress, his jaw tightening; he bites his lip again.

“Everything is okay, love.” he assures me softly, brushing his thumb over my hand.

I nod, inhaling deeply and closing my eyes. I think of everything and nothing all at once. I want this. Just for once, I long to embrace the madness that will make this moment unforgettable. I crave the fear and anticipation tingling down my spine, the very sensation coursing through me now. If I tell Jungkook to stop, I know he will. I sense his attentive gaze on me, the care and concern in his eyes. This realization boosts my confidence slightly, as I notice that though I am inexperienced, I have ignited the same desire in him; he is just as tense, just as full of longing as me. He may not be scared, but he is undeniably affected, all because of me. Feeling a bit bolder, I relax my arms against the bed, creating space for him to look at me more closely.

His fingertips, which had been resting on my waist, now explore my stomach, tracing an imaginary path to my full, sensitive breasts. I roll my eyes in pleasure, surprised as his mouth, slick and warm, finally envelops my engorged nipple, his tongue caressing in a way that drives me wild. A soft moan escapes my lips, and I instinctively lift my hips, seeking relief. Jungkook only smiles, pulling my nipples together with his hands, gazing at me like I’m the last meal of his life, emitting satisfied groans with each suck, reveling in my helplessness.

I writhe on the bed, gripping the thick fabric beneath me. It feels so good. So good that I want to cry. A little scream escapes me when he nibbles with his teeth, sending an electric thrill straight to my core. My body pulses, my entrance aching for more stimulation. I whimper, unsure of how to relieve the tension building inside me.

“You’re just so delicious,” he murmurs to himself, and if I weren’t so close, I’m sure I wouldn’t have heard it. “I can smell your sweet scent from here.”

I can’t respond, completely spread out on the bed, clinging to the sheets for dear life. I sigh and close my eyes, nodding in disbelief at my own eagerness, drenched and dripping. I can almost feel my desire trickling down my thighs, saturating my panties. He chuckles, teasing my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Can I take off your pants?” he asks, planting soft kisses along my neck. I nod again, but he only watches me, not moving. “I’ll only take them off if you ask nicely.”

“Jungkook… please,” I plead in a hoarse voice, desperation threading through my words. I just need him to touch me.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he asks, that devilish grin returning, as if he knows the turmoil he’s causing me and relishes in my struggle. I whimper, frustration bubbling beneath the surface, but he remains still.

“Please, touch me.”

“I'm already touching you,” he teases, pushing some hair behind my ear. “Tell me where you want me to touch you, and I will.”

“I’m embarrassed,” I admit, covering my face with my hands in shame. I hear a soft chuckle from Jungkook. “Please, I just need you to touch me.”

“Do you want me to touch your pussy?” he asks bluntly. I gulp, my face heating and my heart racing. I nod, trembling in anticipation. “Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes… please.” His head nods in agreement, almost as if he finally feels pity for me and is about to grant my last wish.

His long fingers slide down to the waistband of my pants, pulling the fabric down slowly, as if savoring every second. My panties follow, leaving a trail of my excitement connecting the wet fabric to my core, so thoroughly soaked. I shiver at the cold air of the room. His gaze burns into me, observing my vulnerability without shame.

“You’re so beautiful. So perfect,” he says, his eyes locking onto mine. I know he means it; I can hear the sincerity in his voice.

My heart races in my chest, naked before a man for the first time. I can hardly believe the situation I’ve put myself in. My foggy brain, clouded by pleasure and desire, reaches out to his face. My thumb glides over his cheek and lips, a gentle caress, when I realize I haven’t shared an important detail with him.

“Jungkook… I’m a virgin,” I confess in a whisper, afraid that this revelation might change everything. His dark eyes widen slightly, probably from surprise, but he doesn’t judge me or treat me differently. He waits for me to continue, respecting the silence as I gather my thoughts. “I’m sorry... but I don’t feel ready for sex... in fact, I feel like I’m already doing something crazy just being here with you.”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks gently, his fingers brushing my thigh.

“No.” The word escapes my lips firmly, surprising even myself, a hint of fear lurking beneath my resolve. “Is there something we can do without... well, penetration?”

“Of course,” he smiles. His lips return to mine; our kiss deepens, tongues playing together. “I can lick your pussy if you want.”

“Oh.” My voice falters, unsure how to respond. The first image that flashes in my mind is from when I was fourteen, when a friend confided in me, in the school bathroom, about her experiences with her boyfriend. I remember feeling shocked and terrified, vowing I would never do something like that. My cheeks flush; my mind races with conflicting thoughts because now, in this moment, it doesn’t seem so absurd.

“Do you want to try? I promise you’ll love it,” he assures me, his nose trailing along my jawline. My skin prickles with anticipation as he lowers himself over me.

"I-I do,” I stammer nervously. I freeze on the bed, fingers entangled in his hair as his head moves side to side. My body is completely exposed to his mouth, and there isn’t a single spot he doesn’t linger over. His hands find my breasts, massaging them, his short nails grazing my areola.

“Do you like it when I tease your nipples?” he asks, creating a series of soft sucking noises as his mouth releases from my body. I nod, moaning softly.

“I really do,” I admit, my voice weak and foggy. He’s being so good to me that I can’t help but respond.

Jungkook smiles faintly, continuing his exploration, kissing his way down my body, his lips grazing my stomach, circling his tongue on my skin, igniting shivers and goosebumps. I can’t help but bounce on the bed, lost in the sensations. I hear his muffled laughter as he notices my trembling.

“Open your legs for me?” he requests, his warm hands caressing my thighs. I feel embarrassed and shy, tossing my head back against the bed, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m ashamed,” I admit, frustration bubbling beneath the surface, but I know if I want the pleasure I’ve read about in my romance books, I must be honest with him.

“Y/N…” he murmurs my name, dragging his lips along my hip. He suddenly bites down on my sensitive skin, almost making me jump off the bed again. “You’re so good to me… you’ll cum so beautifully. I promise. Just let me see you.”

“I don’t know…” I whisper hesitantly, the desire coursing through me, battling against my fear.

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do: put my pillows under your head,” he suggests calmly, excitement evident in his tone. I search for his pillow among the bedding chaos and raise my head as he adjusts it, expanding my field of vision.

“Now I’m going to turn off the light and switch on the bedside lamp. Tell me if that helps.”

Jungkook quickly rises and walks to the switch. My face flushes even more as I see him grab his member, long fingers tracing its contours, massaging it gently, groaning softly as he looks back at me lying on the bed before the light goes out. The only illumination comes from the full moon shining through the window. Jungkook approaches me again, flicking on the blue-tinted lamp without haste. I’m captivated, feeling more at ease. My fingers slide almost instinctively over my thighs, pinching my warm skin. I let out a soft moan, feeling shy for being alone.

“Jungkook... Please come,” I ask, hearing another laugh escape him as his body finally sinks onto the bed. His weight settles into the mattress as he positions himself between my legs, pushing my knees apart, leaving me utterly exposed. The blue light casts a calming glow, one I hadn’t felt before, allowing my body to relax even in this vulnerable state.

“Better?”

“Much,” I assure him, closing my eyes waiting for his touch, which comes directly... there.

I follow his movements with my head on the pillow, excitement building as I watch what he’s doing to me. His index and middle fingers gently part the folds of my clit, his thumb brushing against it delicately. A high-pitched moan escapes my lips involuntarily, the kisses and caresses igniting my sensitivity. I can feel the urge to orgasm building with just one of his fingers. He circles slowly before plunging into my entrance, searching for my essence, then returning to tease my sensitive spot. My body writhes, muscles tensing. I’ve never orgasmed before, not even alone with the fantasies my books provided, but now, with him, it’s as if I’m on the brink of something monumental. Jungkook is perfection incarnate. Oh, my God.

“Your clit is perfect, so small and swollen,” he whispers in my ear, lowering his body until he’s completely lying down. His breath dances over my stomach, sending shivers through me. “I can’t wait to taste it.”

“Jungkook…” I moan, reaching for his dark hair. I can’t form any more words as his lips find my vulva. My body contracts, warm liquid spilling from my entrance. I open my mouth, eyes closing in bliss. “Oh! Jungkook!”

His fingers part my delicate lips, exposing me further. His tongue glides between my folds, rubbing my pulsating clit. I tremble and convulse, hips undulating for more contact, biting my lip to suppress the urge to scream his name. His lips envelop my swollen bud, his tongue swirling in slow, tantalizing motions, pushing me deeper into delirium. I can no longer think or reason, my eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

To heighten the pleasure, two of his fingers–ring and middle–enter me gently, sending me spiraling. I moan and sigh, knowing I won’t survive this intensity much longer. He quickens the rhythm of his mouth, pushing his fingers deeper, working me with deliberate care. I watch in sheer delight as he drives deeper inside me. It doesn’t hurt at all; I’m so wet that he slides in effortlessly, a pleasure so overwhelming it feels almost fatal. His fingers curve inside me, searching for a spot I didn’t even know existed, but that sends me into a state of pure bliss.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks, voice thick and darkened with desire.

I nod, pushing his head back to my vulva again. I don’t want him to talk. I don't want him to stop. He chuckles and licks my clit again, withdrawing his fingers only to plunge them back in. Suddenly, I feel something different—a warmth spreading through my body, a tension building within me. Whatever he’s doing is working. His fingers go in and out, massaging a magical spot that sends waves of pleasure coursing through me.

“That’s it! Just like that…” I whisper, trembling, growing wetter. The warmth in my belly intensifies, and my eyes well up with tears, feeling the relief and pleasure approaching. “Don’t stop! Please…”

He doesn’t stop; on the contrary, he grunts against my intimacy, adding a vibration that stirs my very soul. His saliva drips from my pussy onto the already messy sheets, creating an erotic scene that would have embarrassed me before, but now I can’t care less. Not when I’m so close. Not when I feel this way, on cloud nine. My moans grow louder, fingers gripping his hair, urging him closer.

“I’m going to… Jungkook!” I gasp, breathless, my hips moving instinctively. His fingers match my rhythm, sloppy fingering inside of me, creating an erotic melody that echoes through the room with every thrust. I erupt with a force I never anticipated, surprise flooding me with no warning. My brows knit together, my legs clamping around his head. My heart races, feeling warmth spread through me, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. Sweat coats my body, and the ecstatic sensation fills me completely.

I collapse back onto the bed, my muscles going limp, tremors subsiding until Jungkook finally pulls his lips away from me. His chin, mouth and cheek glistening with my excitement.

“Fuck, Y/N!” he curses, climbing over my stomach and grasping my neck to kiss me again. “Are you okay?”

“Humm,” is all I can manage to mumble, gasping for air, pulling him in for yet another deep kiss.

I taste myself on his tongue, a vivid reminder of everything that just happened. Even though embarrassment washes over me, I don’t care. I wrap my weak legs around his waist, pulling him on top of me. I circle my arms around his shoulders, my breasts pressing against his chest. He growls and moans softly near my ear, and I’m so addicted to him, to his taste and body, that the previous orgasm has done nothing to quell my desire to be near him.

“It was so good,” I confess, genuinely happy to indulge in such madness and not regret it afterward. This is one of those moments that etches itself into your memory, one you know you’ll never forget, no matter how much time passes.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he chuckles, pride evident in his voice as he takes in the state he’s left me in.

As I look into his eyes, I brush a strand of hair from his forehead. I touch the metallic piercing with my fingertips, feeling the coolness against my skin. “Do you want me to touch you?” the question slips out, almost shyly.

“You really don’t have to. I’m fine,” he replies, his voice low.

“But you are… I mean…” I argue, glancing downward, involuntarily. His member rests between us, hard and a reddish pink, almost painful to behold. I feel a pang of sympathy; his grunt morphs into a deeper moan when my thigh brushes against him accidentally. “Doesn’t it hurt? I mean, doesn’t it?”

“It hurts a little,” he admits, brushing a strand of my hair back with a smile. “But you don’t have to force yourself to do anything. I’m fine.”

“But… what if I want to?” I question, my face burning with embarrassment. My breath quickens and becomes erratic.

“Do you want to?” he asks, and for the first time this night, he seems just as shy as I am. I nod silently. If I’m here with him, I want to explore everything that comes to mind. I know we may not have another night like this. Maybe I’ll be a spinster forever, never experiencing what I’m feeling right now again. A voice in my head urges me to savor this, even if just for a few hours, to pretend nothing exists except for the two of us. “Alright, then you can touch me.”

“Can you lie down? I think that would be better,” I whisper, feeling uncertain. I don’t look confident or sexy at all, I’m painfully aware of it, but the fear of making a mistake looms over me. Jungkook complies, leaning back against the bed and adjusting the pillow I was using under his head. I sigh, assessing his body. He looks like a god, glistening with sweat, muscles taut beneath his soft, pale skin.

The truth is, I have to restrain myself from touching him with unbridled desire, and for the first time in my life, I wish I had more experience for this moment. I nervously bite my lower lip, formulating an idea. I start with his mouth, brushing our lips together lightly. His warm breath mingles with mine as I cup his cheek and kiss him. I go slow, feeling my heart race faster. I run my fingers through his hair, tracing his neck and chest, amazed that I can touch him however I want.

“Do you want to sit on top of me?” he asks, locking eyes with me. His dark gaze captivates me more and more.

“Can I?” I ask quietly. His eyebrow raises, and he chuckles.

“Of course you can! It’s what I want the most,” he says, gripping my hips. He pulls me close, and I open my legs, accommodating him between them. I sit on his lap, resting my hands on his stomach. “Are you sure about this? Do you really want to do this?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Then I’m all yours,” he assures me with a warm smile, holding my waist. The thought that, even if just for this moment, he is mine to do with as I wish, sends shivers down my spine.

I focus on his member, knowing that, like me, he must be more sensitive there. A drop of precum leaks from the tip, and I use my thumb to wipe it, spreading the liquid around his length. Jungkook’s face contorts, his eyebrows knitting together, almost as if he’s in pain, but I know it’s purely pleasure. I grip him more firmly, examining his smooth, delicious skin. I thrust slowly, studying his reaction closely. He writhes and moans again, gasping for air. I feel exhilarated just watching him.

“Use your pussy to wet my cock,” he whispers, instructing me. I feel heat rise in my cheeks, not quite understanding his words. He just smiles, pulling me closer and lifting me above his member. “Like this... just like this. Now go back and forth. Make my cock nice and wet.”

“L-like this?” I ask, moaning, feeling a fire ignite within me every time I rub against him. I don’t know who’s enjoying it more, me or him. I pull my hair back and place my hand on his chest, rolling my hips.

“You’re so wet…! God!” Jungkook groans, rolling his eyes.

One of his hands slides down to my butt, squeezing and massaging, and an involuntary smile escapes my lips as he seems just as lost in pleasure as I am. A strong, unexpected slap lands on my right side. I moan in surprise but don’t stop moving my hips, feeling my creamy essence coating him with each thrust. Jungkook growls, biting his lower lip, gazing at me with an intensity that would terrify me if it weren’t for the situation.

“Can you cum again like this?” he asks, gritting his teeth. I can only nod uncontrollably, using the head of his cock against my button. I lower my body a bit, seeking a more pleasurable angle; my legs burning from the intensity of the movements. “I’m gonna cum too, fuck! Keep going… Don’t stop, please! Don’t fucking stop!”

“Jungkook…!” I gasp, kissing his neck, on that mole I always wanted to taste. He moans louder, tightening his grip on my waist in a way that I know will leave marks by morning. My tongue trails over the lobe of his ear, sucking and creating a path of saliva down to his nipple. His growl deepens, and he thrusts against me, creating a rhythm I can’t bring myself to halt.

With every movement, the sound of skin against skin grows louder, filling the room with a symphony of sloppy and slick sounds as our bodies connect. The heat in my belly rises, and my clit throbs with urgency. I whimper and lower my head, fully aware of what that means. My heart races, and my legs move faster, using Jungkook’s slick member to reach climax once more.

“Oh my God! My…” I whisper, feeling the sensitivity peak. Jungkook holds my head in place, eyes locked with mine, an electric connection that’s utterly intoxicating. My muscles move on pure instinct; I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. Everything explodes again, as powerful as the first time. My body contracts, my essence flows, but I don’t dare stop, knowing that Jungkook is close too, teetering on the edge.

“Please Jungkook, please.” I plead in desperation, my voice shaky. His skin prickles, and his body flushes. Despite my inexperience, I know the effects I have on him are as powerful as his on me.

He growls hoarsely, eyes closing. His flushed face contorts, breathing halting for a moment. He curses under his breath and groans until he finally releases, soaking my belly and his own with a long, shuddering orgasm. His moan is breathtaking, his mouth opens, hands gripping my body. He exhales after a while, face sweaty, pupils dilated. The most beautiful sight I’ve ever witnessed. I can’t help but laugh, collapsing weakly on him.

“Holy shit, it’s been ages since I’ve cum like that,” he admits breathlessly, wrapping his arms around me.

“I have to tell you something…” I lift my chin, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. I smile awkwardly, but determined to be honest. “Those were my first two orgasms ever.”

“Really?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in surprise. I'm shy, nodding my head. His piercing catches the blue light, so captivating that I can’t help but reach out to touch it again. “I guess I’m really good, then.” he jokes, proudly.

“No, you're not,” I roll my eyes, laughing along with him. His chest rises and falls beneath me, moving my head gently. My ear rests over his heart, so close I can hear every rapid beat, lulling me into a state of calm. “I really want to sleep.”

“Me too,” he whispers tiredly, running his fingers through my hair. I moan softly, savoring the affection. “Before you sleep, you should use the bathroom.”

“I don’t want to,” I grumble. My legs feel like jelly, and my body is completely spent. There’s no way I can get up from this bed, even though I know I’m a mess, all sweaty, dirty and smelling like him.

"Alright," he chuckles at my stubbornness. "Do you want some water? I can also bring a wet cloth to clean you up."

"Yes... please." I close my eyes even before he fully rises, slipping into a state of blissful unconsciousness, utterly exhausted from our night.

My mom is gonna kill me.

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments.

@ane102 @joonwater @ttipa

[fourmoony]

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲

Sirius Black x f!reader 886 words

summary: reader has a bad day and Sirius is there

Sirius has his feet kicked up on the coffee table, a cuppa balanced on his chest as the news headlines flash across the television. You've never known Sirius to watch the news, even if he's the most up-to-date person you know. You've no idea how he knows it all, but you've never seen him outright watch the news. His head turns, deft hands grasping the mug on his chest, as your shoes thump on the floor, left abandoned by the door.

The energy to pick up after yourself has long since evaporated, a headache born from pure exhaustion pushing against your temples. Work had been hard, pushing your patience to the breaking point and all you want to do is crawl into bed and not get out. Ever, honestly. You drop your bag behind the sofa, find Sirius smiling at you in anticipation of your appearance in front of him. It turns to a frown when he catches sight of you, concern swimming in his grey eyes.

"Woah, who died?" He asks, leaning forwards to place his mug on the coffee table.

He leans back just in time for you to collapse on top of him with a groan of response. Your muscles hurt, your head is pounding, you think you got so hungry at one point that your stomach just stopped grumbling, giving up on its efforts. You feel weak, shaky, a little nauseous. But Sirius smells good, feels warm. The cotton of his pyjamas doesn't grate on your skin the way your own clothes have been and you find yourself nuzzling closer, nose pressed to the pulse point of his neck.

His hair is tied back, but the baby hairs tickle the side of your face as he rubs a steady hand up and down your back, careful not to jostle you too much. "Hey, what gives?" His voice is soft, soothing, lips pressed against the side of your temple.

The touch soothes the area, as though his sheer love and care has sunk through your skin and begun to heal you. You sigh, heavy through your nose, followed by a little whine, "Long day. Tired. Headache."

Sirius coos placatingly, hands deft and soothing as he rubs over you; your legs, your back, your hips. He shifts so you're over his lap more, curled against him as he settles back. "Wanna talk about it?"

He won't push you. Not if you're not ready, or if there simply isn't much to talk about other than the fact it was just a shitty day. He's always so patient, knows when to push and when not to, knows that his own boundaries seldom get pushed by you, and so he extends you the same level of care and consideration. He has his own bad days, he's bound to with everything he's experienced, and as selfish as it sounds, it only makes him better at helping you on yours.

You shake your head and Sirius kisses your temple again in response. It's okay. He won't push. He's here when you need.

"You want me to run you a bath? Order dinner so it's here when you get out?" He asks.

You hum, thoughtful, "Can't be bothered to wash my hair."

Sirius shrugs against you, "I'll do it."

You marvel at how you got so lucky. To have a man like Sirius in your life, to have someone who is so nurturing, so caring, when you need him to be. He's your soulmate, makes you laugh, is a downright flirt, keeps you on your toes, someone who never experienced the love and care with which he so fiercely gives you. He's never hesitated. Not once.

"Okay, yeah. Thanks, baby." You mumble, head tilting to look better at him.

His eyes are soft, filled with concern, gentleness. He leans down, lips pressing to yours for less than a second before he's squirming out from under you. You'd protest if he wasn't getting up to do something for you, to help you. He's gone for a minute, the sound of him turning the taps on, opening the linen cupboard to take some towels out. He returns with a cheerful smile, hands outstretched to help pull you off of the sofa.

You groan and moan when you get up, body lip in his arms as his arms wrap around you. His hug is grounding, it's stable and safe and you'd be content to stay there if the scent of lavender wasn't wafting from the bathroom. "I love you." You murmur into his chest, a gentle but truthful reminder.

You say it all the time, same as Sirius. He squeezes you tight, head testing atop yours, "Love you, too. Go get in and I'll phone for pizza."

You feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

"Luckiest girl in the world." You murmur, smile wide as you look up at him, head tilted, leaning back in his hold.

He senses the lift in your mood, already, a cheeky smile gracing his lips as one of his hands reaches down to squeeze your ass, "That you are, lovely girl."

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you push him away, making your way to the bathroom.

Half way down the hall, you hear him call, "Won't be long, love!"

You find yourself hoping he won't.

[mochidolls]

now introducing . . . corporate!rafe !

uhhh, so this is a byproduct of binge watching industry for the past like two weeks… mdni por favor / brief mentions of masturbation & fingering + bot

now he’s not the y’know traditional multi millionare ceo of a big real estate firm daddy’s company who fucks his secretary from time to time (close enough but not quite).

corporate!rafe is a stocks bro —neck-deep in crypto, efts, and the kind of investments that make everyone else’s eyes glaze over. he’ll mansplain the basic principles of capitalism over lunch like you didn’t just close a deal worth more than his annual bonus. (rafe: 0, you: 1)

rafe’s favorite pastime is reminding everyone that he clawed his way to the top. him. not ward cameron’s money. not ward cameron’s connections. him. never mind that his “humble beginnings” included a trust fund the size of a small country’s GDP and a private boarding school education.

rafe is terrified of being nothing without his wealth and status. the dude is genuinely afraid that without the recognition, the promotions, the stock portfolios, he’ll be just another rich kid with a hollow sense of identity.

this is what drives him to undermine you: if you’re successful, it forces him to confront his own feelings of inadequacy, and god forbid, that cannot happen.

corporate!rafe has icanfixyou syndrome. in his silly little goofy brain, he is the one who has control, not you. the problem is, you’re fully aware of what he’s doing, and you’re only more determined to get under his skin. he keeps failing to win you over, and he doesn’t know how much it pisses him off. you don’t need him. he can’t stand it.

rafe has no idea how to flirt. his version of courting you is begrudgingly fetching your coffee order and getting it completely wrong. you like a hazelnut latte with just the right amount of foam? congratulations—you’re now the proud owner of a black americano that tastes like shit and the depths of a black hole. grim, i know.

and please don’t start to fantasise about him fucking you in the most nefarious of ways. quite frankly he was all too repulsed and blinded by the sheer eager need to be simply better than you to even imagine you in that light.

that is…until the hotel incident.

to summarise (and quite frankly not waste your time): HR’s genius solution for “team bonding” was sticking you two in interlinked hotel rooms. pure hell. he leaves his damp towels everywhere, his skincare products are obnoxiously expensive (and you definitely didn’t try his moisturizer when he wasn’t looking), and you’ve caught him singing jack harlow in the shower. loudly.

rafe had bare witnesses too many nip slips to be considered ‘normal’ around you. thus his little fantasies about you began.

you wore a bikini (a bit revealing for a work trip, but i mean…c’mon you’re in mallorca!) the bikini was a choice—your choice. rafe spent the entirety of the beach day trying to look anywhere but directly at you. that night however? a poor pillow suffered, fucked mercilessly and bred into (room service are going to have a ball cleaning that up!)

but…let’s not kid ourselves here, you weren’t less of a pervert yourself.

one single fateful night with his stupid gold heirloom ring glittering in the moonlight, lead to you clutching one of his beach shirts like a feral animal, babbling and praising his name into the soft cotton and wondering if the gold signet ring on his hand could double as a vibrator.

you think it’s a joke that everyone around you sees this mild rivalry between you and rafe? it’s not. it’s a full fledged fucking war. every small win you get, he has to match it. your first big client? rafe’s out there trying to snag a bigger one, even though it’s none of his business.

he hates that you’re quietly, secretly thriving, and the fact that he can’t quite figure you out drives him insane. you’re not his type. you don’t need him. he can’t stand it. he’d rather see you fail than admit he’s even a little bit impressed by you…maybe a little infatuated too.

your relationship with rafe fluctuates between clear disdain and ‘i want to fuck you and have your kids’ ism. he’ll try to play the role of “cool, unattached guy,” but everyone can see how much he carnally wants you.

he’ll make snide comments like, “i mean, it’s not like i’m some guy you’d bring home to meet your parents, but sure, you can always pretend i’m a secret you’re keeping.”

when rafe knows he’s gone too far and messed with you too much, he’ll offer you an apology— “look, i’m not sorry for calling you out, but i can tell you’re a little sensitive about it. so... i’m apologizing in the way that doesn’t undermine either of us. happy?”

he steals your favorite pens; you "accidentally" unplug his monitor before meetings. his powerpoints are aggressively over-designed, and you make sure to point out every typo during team calls. HR doesn’t even bother with your complaints anymore—they just schedule you for the same meetings so they can watch the fireworks. it’s childish, really.

on the surface, rafe oozes alpha male (threw up a bit there, excuse me). but underneath all that bravado? he’s a fucking miserable mess. he constantly checks his portfolio every 5 minutes to make sure his money is still growing. the real kicker? he’s terrified of you being smarter than him, which is why he’s always trying to “one-up” you. he knows you’re not impressed by his stupid wealth, and that drives him crazy.