#the winter break will not feel like a break trust me!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gutsby · 9 months ago

Text

Benign

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Marrying a former Soviet sleeper agent was your first mistake. Letting curiosity get the better of you and saying his trigger words before sex was your second.

Warnings: 18+. DUBCON - Bucky is partly brainwashed; R is reluctant at first. Reliving past trauma (i.e., grief, prior HYDRA captivity). Rough, unprotected p-in-v.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Marrying into the mob meant one of two things: turning a blind eye to your husband’s crimes or taking them up as your own. Most of the women who had gone before you chose the former, leading lives of willful ignorance while their spouses cut deals, shed blood, stole guns, and submitted only to the laws of secrecy and discretion.

You, unlike those wives, hadn’t had the luxury of choice.

Your life, unlike theirs, had been sold to a man you didn’t know, by a father you couldn’t stand, and now your dad was dead, and this man—your husband—was to blame.

The least Bucky could do was fuck you hard to say sorry.

But no, ever since the Winter Soldier had reared its ugly head that dreadful night in Madripoor two weeks prior, your husband hadn’t laid one finger on your body that was not soft, sweet, and sickeningly apologetic to you. He seemed almost scared to initiate sex, and when he did, couldn’t help but act like a touch might break you.

After all, one almost had. Those hands he’d hear you beg and plead to put on you now were the very same ones he’d used to kill dozens, if not hundreds, including blood of your own blood. To the world, Bucky’s reputation commanded fear. To his wife, now, he felt duly obliged to prove he was more—that you were safe with him, not from him. He’d carted you off to every GP, hematologist, nutritionist, and grief specialist lauded among Brooklyn’s elite to make that happen. Fast. Frankly, these days, the thought of fucking was the furthest thing from his mind.

Unbeknownst to Bucky, somewhere along the spectrum of grief, you’d already come to settle comfortably at the ‘Need-to-be-fucked-until-I-can-no-longer-think-or-feel’ phase, and every bone in your body was crying out for respite in the form of ruthless, mind-numbing sex. It didn’t make sense. You hardly knew what to do with it. You should have lashed out, shut down, cried rivers and lakes of tears for that integral part of family that had been lost, but for whatever reason, you had to go numb.

You wanted to do something really, really fucking dumb.

Remorseful as he was, Bucky and his explanations for who or what the Winter Soldier was had been sparse. He’d told you that he had once been held in captivity by HYDRA, had his brain re-wired some way to make him a merciless Soviet sleeper agent, and that the night in Madripoor was the first in ages he had been ‘activated.’ How did activation happen? Of course, he wouldn’t tell.

But Steve would.

Steve had told you everything you wanted to know about your soldat, describing in painstaking detail how he worked, trained, operated, and could be called to action. You were almost certain Rogers had said it all as a way to assure you that it wasn’t Bucky who’d killed your father—it was someone inside him. You were more than positive Steve had never intended for you to use his intel like this.

You hadn’t believed him. Couldn’t believe him. How the fuck could someone sever all ties to their conscious mind and just transform anew into a killer? You got to be hell-bent on knowing for certain whether it’d been Bucky or him, it, whatever the hell the Winter Solider was, and on knowing it now. If your husband was faking it all and simply using this persona to justify the killing, that would be it. Trust gone, marriage over. If he wasn’t, well…you hadn’t gotten that far into your own line of thinking.

“Tell me what you want, doll,” Bucky said, pulling you back to the present.

He shifted gently against you, cotton trousers raising the friction a little as he slotted between your legs. He was still dressed head-to-toe from his meeting that morning.

“I want you to fuck me. Make me cum. Please.”

You were bare, save for one small scrap of linen and lace that somehow passed as a nightie. Your gaze was soft.

Bucky didn’t want to say no, but he also felt too guilty to say yes. The way you were watching him now, eyes so helpless and pleading, body writhing for contact, he knew you didn’t want his touch so much as needed it. Desperately. Couldn’t bear to be burdened with grief so you brushed it aside, to the furthest recesses of your mind until all that was left was desire. Starvation, really.

He could satiate you for now, but that hunger might not ever leave. The corners of his lips twitched into a frown.

“Gentle?” he mumbled.

“Rough,” you countered.

“Baby—”

“I really don’t need another fucking lecture on death, Bucky. I know I’m not myself right now, but I can still make these decisions, okay? Don’t talk to me like I can’t.”

Anger flashed in your eyes for a second, then indignation, then nothing. Without much energy left, you pushed him away. Flopped back on the bed and, seeming to sink into yourself, heaved a low, feeble sigh.

“I know. Hey,” Bucky leaned over to press a touch to your tummy, and it made you want to hurl, “I’m sorry.”

You turned onto your side.

“You still don’t remember what happened?”

The question came suddenly, almost from somewhere outside your body, it seemed. For the hundredth time.

“No,” Bucky answered, for what felt like the thousandth.

“This Winter Soldier—”

“He isn’t me.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Couldn’t know. Wasn’t…programmed for it.”

Bucky was watching you now, eyes as contrite as they’d ever been while you rehashed this subject to the brink of tears. He never could stay composed when he saw you cry.

“Baby…” he started, arms reaching out for you.

Eyes still filling with tears, you shook your head and swatted him off. You sat up, and your brows pinched together in a look he couldn’t read. Contemplating.

At last, you made up your mind.

You would try something new—and really, really stupid:

“Zhelaniye.”

“What?”

Bucky’s own expression contorted with uncertainty.

“—semnadtsat, rzhaviy, rasvet—”

He heard that. He immediately wished he hadn’t.

“Wait—”

You were curious. You had no idea what you were doing.

“Baby, baby, stop—”

“—pech, devyat—”

You were speaking so fast, surely it wouldn’t work like that. Either way, he had to stop you. He seized your arms, giving a sharp, deliberate shake, pupils blown to the size of saucers in his eyes. There wasn’t much time.

“Don’t—”

“—adin—”

No time at all.

“—dothisdon’tfuckingdothishoneyplease.”

Losing himself already. Feeling it stir inside his mind.

“—dobroserdechniy—”

‘Kind-hearted.’ ‘Benign’. You truly had no clue what these words were liable to do, much less what they meant.

Having enunciated this last part, you swallowed. Took the tip of your tongue and rolled it left-to-right across the backs of your teeth, waiting for your speech to take effect like some magical performance before your eyes.

It hadn’t, it seemed. You blinked. He blinked. You sat in a protracted silence for what seemed like seventeen years, and presently, your stomach began to churn. Nothing happened—you’d been right about this fuckery all along.

Then you remembered one last word of the sequence.

Faintly, you said:

“Soldat.”

The man above you straightened. Sitting. Stiff. Still perched by your legs at a comfortable distance but regarding you now with a pointed stare. Expectancy made manifest in a simple, sharp glare from his eyes to yours.

“...Bucky?”

The look on his face grew even harder. For a time, he persisted in that strange and silent grimace, and just when you started to suspect he was faking this whole demeanor of deadened stoicism, you heard a voice. Clawing out of his throat but sounding nothing like him:

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

The words drove a fear to the greatest depths of your bones, and you hardly knew why. You stared back at the handsome, barren man still watching you with severity, and you couldn’t seem to find your husband anywhere.

“James?” You weren’t sure why you tried his name again. You just didn’t know what else to say.

The scowl seeped into his mouth, and he frowned.

“James,” he repeated, like the word was foreign to him.

You found yourself shuffling back on the bed just then—to what, you didn’t know. You just felt a gnawing need to put some space between you and this person, this glowering face, however you could. When he grabbed your ankle, you let out a startled sound, and when he followed you up on the bed, you did more than just whimper; you lifted your leg to knee him directly in the stomach. He caught it.

Then he stared again, expression bloodless and wan.

“You’re scaring me, Bucky.” Your voice trembled as you tried to free your leg from his fist—grip unusually strong.

The man paused another moment, if only to soak in your words and let his gaze trail over your face. Your exertions did not register. And, for the very first time, you felt as though you were something more like a plaything in your husband’s eyes—not a full-fledged human being but a system to be gamed. The feeling was so unsettling that you had to turn away.

Or try to, anyway.

Craning your neck just far enough to spy your phone on the nightstand, your first thought was Steve; he would know what to do. But before you could even think to twist and lift your body in that direction, you felt a hand yank you to the bed, flat on your back. You looked up at Bucky and found yourself caged between two arms. He lowered himself to his elbows, shifted his weight to one side, and seemed not to notice your movements at all when you tried to slide away. The man just splayed his hand across your stomach and pressed it firmly. Stay.

You weren’t one to shy away from a challenge—or keep hope alive against the odds. You put your hand over his.

“James—”

“Zhena.”

The abruptness of Bucky’s word stole the rest of yours. You cocked a brow and followed his gaze to your hand.

To the gaps between your fingers, then the touch that fanned across them to settle on one digit in particular.

Bucky thumbed at the diamond and smiled. He smiled.

“Zhena,” he repeated.

You blinked.

“I— you...gave me that, Bucky. You did.”

He hummed in acknowledgment.

Bucky stared at the ring for what could��ve been five seconds or several years, and then he did something unexpected. He shifted his touch to the bodice of your dress—again, if you could even call it that—and he began to tug at the satin bow situated between your breasts.

Of course, this nightie being designed for honeymoons and supremely easy access, it didn’t take much effort at all for the folds of your dress to come apart. Your breasts spilled out of the fabric without so much as a hint of protest, your torso was quick to become fully exposed, and suddenly, shortly, your hands were fumbling at your chest in an effort to regain some smidgen of modesty. Your husband just shook his head, following your hands.

“Moya zhena,” he said, a touch more emphasis and fervor to the first of the two words.

Now it was you who was shaking your head. Trying to pry his touch away as you slid up the bed. When he followed, you saw the icy expression had been supplanted by intrigue and, though you still felt ill at ease, you couldn’t deny you were curious to know what he was thinking. Who was thinking it? Soft, plush lips swiftly replaced his hands, and before you even knew what he was doing, Bucky, or someone, was latching onto your left breast. Using teeth to graze the hardened nub and send a ripple of thick, guilty pleasure coursing through you.

You whimpered. Bucky groaned.

Your fingers slotted through his hair with every intention of pushing him away, but when you tried, he just flicked his tongue and made another delicious sound against you.

You pushed with even more force, and he groaned again.

Not Bucky, not Bucky, not him, you have to—

“Stop!” you cried.

A set of soft, warm baby blues darted up to meet you.

Some flicker of recognition seemed to cross them, too.

“Honey?”

You almost lurched toward the sound. It was Bucky.

Suddenly, your hands were making fists in the collar of his crisp white button-up, and you were trying to yank him up. You murmured his name in disbelief, relief, and gathered him up in your arms to pull him in for a kiss.

The lips that met you were soft for a moment—just one.

Then the teeth reappeared. Harsh, jarring, biting. You jerked back at the sensation, and when you found his face again, it seemed your husband was lost to you all over. The eyes were attentive still—nowhere near as cold and aloof as they had been before—but they did not radiate the same warmth and admiration that Bucky’s always did. You almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He was gone, just like that, and there was nothing you could do to stop it from happening.

A broad palm cupped your cheek to bring you in for another kiss, and you weren’t sure if you should indulge. It didn’t seem you had much choice anyway, because the lips that were seeking yours were hungry. Starved. Searing into your mouth with a force you couldn’t refuse.

But something inside you wanted to find Bucky again.

Somewhere inside this stranger was lying dormant a trace of your husband; you’d seen it yourself, if only for a second. It made you curious. Where had he gone? What did he do when forced to retreat into this strange, preprogrammed being, and how could you get him back?

“Bucky,” you mumbled, more of a plea than a moan.

You were kissed harder than you had been in a long time. You didn’t have to think, or do, or breathe one puff of air that this man didn’t account for. His tongue wedged a gaping space in your wet, welcoming mouth for him to fill, and somehow, you didn’t feel the urge to protest. A familiarity in the way he kissed almost put you at ease, and when his body lifted slightly, yours lifted with it.

Before long, Bucky was sitting. Kneeling between your legs with an eye to your soft, shaking torso. You’d barely even come to notice just how hard you were breathing until you felt a palm on your stomach again. There was an oddly calming insinuation in that one simple touch.

And again, he smiled. Brighter than before.

“Nashe?” He sounded eager as he said it.

You peered up at him and raised an eyebrow in question. Perhaps you should’ve felt more exposed; after all, you were sitting half-naked with your husband’s assassin alter ego stroking your stomach and beaming over you, eyeing you expectantly, and you didn’t know what to say. Apart from the short set of words Steve had taught you, you were totally clueless to Russian, and you weren’t quite sure you were in a place to ask Bucky to translate.

When it seemed words might never come, the gleaming teeth above you were shrouded in a tighter, close-lipped smile, and Bucky nodded. Appearing to understand. Instead of forcing a response from you, he just let his hand migrate down your belly, fingers tracing the skin, then settle comfortably—momentarily—at the crest of your pubic bone. Then he pressed the heel of his palm into the place residing right below it, and without really meaning to, you moaned. A quiet maelstrom of pleasure circled low in your abdomen, threatening to draw noises from your throat you weren’t planning to make with every gentle gyration of Bucky’s lower hand.

You had to purse your lips to contain the sounds.

Again, he nodded.

“It’s okay,” he said, so quiet he almost couldn’t be heard.

He let the friction continue for a while like that: just palming you, watching you react to the simplest of motions against your swollen, aching clit and try not to writhe. At length, you squirmed a little bit. Bucky seemed to want to wait for something to happen, and when you bucked your hips, a look in his eye said that was enough.

He lowered himself between your legs. Shoulders bumping your thighs as he spread them apart, chest rising and falling in measured breaths, and lips smiling all the while. You sucked in a breath when his face came to rest just a few inches shy of your bare, aching warmth.

“Bucky?”

The man looked up at you and blinked.

“Yeah, honey?”

One thumb traced over the seam of your cunt, and your back nearly arched off the bed. There he was, again, gaze safe and secure to yours and hands moving in tandem as they always would. His tongue calmly followed suit. When you fisted his hair, he blinked once more and then directed his attention back to your wet, warm, velvety folds with a pointed look and a purpose.

The sound that escaped you next could hardly be classed as anything less than a scream, but the soft and unperturbed demeanor of the man between your legs showed he hadn’t noticed at all. He just sucked diligently—damn near dutifully—on your clit with a vigor you’d never felt, and when you yanked at his hair, he hummed.

It was like his lips had been trained for perfect suction; that was how well and thoroughly he descended upon your swollen little bud. An airtight kiss and a quick flick of his tongue, paired with his hot and heavy breaths fanning over your cunt, sent your senses into overdrive. Your toes curled inward, your throat let loose a gasp, and without fully realizing it, your walls were clamping down, pulsing and leaking out desire for more of this touch.

Then, without warning, Bucky brought a hand to the throbbing and slick cunt that was presently clenching around nothing, and he fed it two fingers. So forceful and deep he nearly buried his knuckles right along with them. Then he started scissoring those two fingers, sharply.

“Open, milaya,” he said. Again, it wasn’t entirely Bucky.

But you felt a faint remembrance there. You didn’t want him to stop. Maybe you were led astray by the gentle laps of his tongue or the prodding of his fingertips, or perhaps there was something stubbornly familiar about the way he was touching you now. You couldn’t tell.

All you knew was that both of your hands were holding tight to his head and begging him, wordlessly, for more.

Your moans rang all the way through the bedroom in your new, far-too-big penthouse apartment in Brooklyn, down the hall, reverberating through every inch of the space until all that could be heard were your sounds and his and the delectable little noises of your bodies working together. Bucky hadn’t even stirred to pleasure himself.

You wanted that part to change.

With your hip pinned to the mattress and Bucky’s tongue laving over your clit in ruthlessly quick movements, you probably would’ve liked to cum all over his mouth and fingers, but you wanted to see him pleased even more.

Just when he’d worked a third finger inside you and was driving you close to your peak, you pushed him away.

Bucky parted from your folds with a glistening chin and two furrowed eyebrows, clearly frustrated to have been torn from his mission before you reached completion, but you wouldn’t let that look linger for long. You used your leverage in his hair—however slight, comparatively, that grip might have been—to pull him up on the bed.

Bucky surprised you with just how swiftly he moved.

His steel-blue gaze was on yours in a second, equally penetrating and soft.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing—”

“My baby okay?”

He surprised you again; this time by how quick his demeanor was to shift the second he sensed something was wrong. Just like Bucky. It had to be him in there.

You nodded, still out of breath from the wonders he’d been working with his tongue. You squeezed his arm and tried to coax him toward you, to help him lower his body some, and when he seemed uncertain, you offered a smile. It’s okay to touch, you won’t break anything.

Bucky eyed you skeptically, but it was clear he was more wary of himself than of you. He glanced over your body, briefly to his, then slowly, apprehensively, sank down.

“Just fine,” you mumbled, hooking your legs around his back the second his chest was close enough to yours.

You felt an uptick in his heartbeat when your heels dug a little more firmly into the waistband of his pants. While your hands started working their way toward the front of that fabric, wedging clumsily between your bodies, his gaze flitted to yours, and his brows drew even tighter together. He didn’t try to stop you, but he certainly seemed confused as to why you wanted to include him so soon. Why you cared to show concern for him at all.

You noticed that then, and in just about every moment preceding, the man was taken aback by kindness.

Whether it was pulling him closer to you, tugging his pants down with a tender touch, running your fingers across the bulge in his boxers, or simply nodding your head and letting him know it was okay to touch you back, Bucky seemed unaccustomed to any care in this area.

When your fingers made it around his cock and started stroking him, gently, he just might’ve come apart.

His chest shuddered with the inhale of a short, strained breath, and his eyelids fluttered, as if meaning to close.

Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he started to shake his head.

“No, let me—”

“Let me,” you finished for him, wrist flicking back and forth quietly. You paused just to rub a quick touch between your folds, collect some arousal, then return to touching him when he met your eyes again and allowed you to continue. You skimmed his sensitive underside with your palm and let the warmth of him bleed into your fingertips as you worked him up to a comfortable pace.

Bucky rutted into your touch, probably harder than he meant to. Then he planted a hand beside your head and anchored his weight above you so that he was close enough to reach your lips—but he didn’t kiss you.

His expression hardened again, and he forcibly removed himself from the pulse of your fingers. He frowned.

“You want me to fuck you, no? Make you cum?”

He sounded irritated again.

Briefly, you recalled your words from earlier and nodded. It was true, you’d said it to him like that, and you’d meant it. You just couldn’t make sense of what he wanted now.

It seemed Bucky couldn’t wait to indulge you any longer. He fisted his cock in one hand, angled the head just outside of your cunt, and burst in with one thrust.

“Then let me,” he muttered, plunging down to the hilt.

The first go was rough, and the second was no kinder. Bucky’s face screwed up with indifference again, like he wanted to get something out of his brain and just do.

Like there was a task at hand that needed to be finished.

You couldn’t deny it felt fine at first. Fucking edifying after all those horrific thoughts had been eating away at your mind and rousing your own hunger for numbness. The drive of Bucky’s thick girth in and out, in and out repeatedly was no doubt capable of rendering you dumb. But being slammed into and taken so roughly was only good for you when you knew he was feeling good too.

This Bucky was back to being entirely flinty and lifeless—practically devoid of all emotion as he railed into you.

The back of your head was forced into the pillow with the weight of each thrust and Bucky’s thumb pushing into your chin—‘Better, milaya? Is this better for you?’—and frankly, you wanted to push him back and ask the same.

But you couldn’t. The pace he’d set was suffocating, and the stretch of his cock inside you was unusually tough.

Instead, you sank your nails into his arm and mumbled:

“Bucky.”

The man’s thrusts were both stabbing and rhythmic, sending a welt of pleasure blossoming up in your chest. You tried again:

“Bucky.”

He blinked.

And slowed.

“Bucky,” he mumbled back.

Seemingly mindless and mechanical, he snaked a hand behind your head to lift your face and tilt it toward the sight below: his cock splitting you open before him, parting your insides with an easy, welcome glide through the slick of your folds. You watched as your arousal enveloped him fully. Not a single inch of his rock-hard, throbbing shaft was spared; even his balls were soaked. They felt even heavier slapping your ass with each thrust.

“You remember?” you asked, hating how small you sounded.

The man’s nostrils flared, but he gave a curt nod. Expression taut and vigilant, as though anticipating something going wrong at any second. Still, he nodded.

“Years,” he answered.

“Years?”

Since he’d done this? Felt good? Become this way?

No, Bucky was activated in Madripoor just weeks ago. He didn’t look like he was ready to indulge in any ‘feel-good’ pleasure, and you weren’t sure when he’d last been with anyone else before you. Years could mean anything.

You chanced a few soft fingertips up to his cheeks, cupping either side of his clean-shaven face in an effort to anchor you both to one place. The pit of your stomach was reeling with warmth, and friction, and fullness. It took everything in you just to pull him in for a quick, grounding kiss before the feeling gave way to even more.

Bucky’s teeth nicked your bottom lip. He flinched back.

You ignored the sting and repeated his name, murmuring it carefully up to the seal of his mouth as if requesting entry with that word alone.

It seemed to work. Bucky kissed you back with a gentle, albeit guarded, sort of tenderness that made him soften. His thrusts weren’t as rough and punishing as they were before. The dull, throbbing ache between your legs transformed into something sweeter, and your body no longer had to brace itself against strokes that, to you, were nearly bruising and, to Bucky, were just necessary.

For once, your husband let out a soft grunt of pleasure.

“They never let us,” Bucky said as his teeth grit together, “It’s been years.”

“Since what?”

The face above you tempered more—this time with a trace of sadness behind it. He continued to rut into you, but now his thrusts were sloppy, and it seemed as though he were battling against his own pleasure with every motion. He lowered one hand between your legs and began to thumb at your clit, gaze torn from yours.

“Close now?” he muttered.

Ignoring the question you’d asked.

“Years since what?” you pressed anyway. The tiny ripples preceding bliss had already begun to stir inside you, maddeningly, with every flick of his thumb, but your curiosity to know the whole truth was stronger still.

Bucky’s hips were moving at a feverish pace now; his free hand made a fist in the sheets beside your head, and his chest heaved with a series of short, ragged breaths that were no doubt meant to mask his moans as well. Notwithstanding the burn you felt between your legs—he really was much rougher and stronger now, you saw—you cupped his cheek again to tilt his face toward yours.

What you saw made your stomach drop.

Your heart clenched like a fist within the confines of your ribcage, and there it was—that terrible ache you felt each time you saw something awful materialize before you.

Bucky’s eyes were wet with tears. He wouldn’t blink.

He tilted his head into your touch, as if for support, but really, the weight of it signaled to you that he just wanted to feel you. Be assured that you were there. His big, broad arms seemed suddenly unable to hold his weight, and then he sank into your frame with a grunt and another stuttered breath. Like he was ready to collapse.

“Don’t leave again,” he said quietly.

The pain in your chest elevated, in bloom.

“Bucky I didn’t— wasn’t—” you started to say.

The friction between your bodies was almost too much to bear. You couldn’t be sure if you were talking to your husband, soldat, or some strange, inconceivable mixture of the two, but you could tell that this one was desperate.

Pleading.

“I can’t lose you again.”

The head of his cock grazed your most sensitive spot inside, and a whine seeped out through your teeth. Bucky’s whole body was blanketing yours, torso flush with your front and hips working an erratic cadence as he got a glimpse of release himself. He groaned out in pleasure and begged you to stay. You promised that you would. Your legs were still wound around his sides, but both of your bodies were slick with a sheen of sweat; it was hard to hang on. Bucky’s hair was wild and pushed back from his face, but his eyes were clear when they finally met yours, and you heard him mumble again, ‘Please stay.’

You didn’t know what else to say but okay, baby, I will.

You swore you would stay, and in between oaths, your mouth was consumed by a barrage of kisses—Bucky got to feast with a full set of teeth again, primal as ever—and then your climax hit. Euphoria washed over you whole with a force you weren’t expecting to feel, and you couldn’t help but cry out and whine as waves of pleasure coursed straight from the innermost depths of your core.

Bucky’s hips collided with yours in two more stuttered thrusts, and when he bottomed out at the last, you felt a heavy spurt of warmth. A groan coiling out of his chest. Muscles growing lax and two sturdy arms coming to bracket your head as your husband’s whole body weight went folding into yours. You kissed some more, in between frenzied intakes of breaths and steadying moments where you were simply trying to ground your body and get your heart to slow down to a normal rate.

You held each other in silence for a while. Bucky’s head fell next to yours on the pillow when the last of his spend had been emptied, but otherwise, he didn’t stir. At some point, his hands slid behind your back, and the second he hugged you to him, you felt secure in that embrace.

You were probably as far as you’d ever been from understanding who the fuck your husband was, but all it seemed you were capable of feeling for now was pity.

Pity for the years he’d lost to captivity; pity for what was little more than mere existence under HYDRA’s thumb; pity for all the things you still didn’t know about his past.

You held Bucky tighter, and, flooded with this strange, grating emotion and an overwhelming sense of powerlessness, you wished you could protect him, too.

“James?” you mumbled into his hair.

Bucky didn’t respond.

You squeezed his shoulder. Still nothing.

Against your better judgment, you tried to shift yourself underneath his body. You figured you wouldn’t make it far at all, but at least he would be aware that you were trying to get up. Maybe even start to move with you.

He didn’t.

It took everything in you just to wedge an elbow back, struggle to prop yourself up against his weight, and when you were about to let out a huff of an exasperated laugh and tell him, Bucky, you’re crushing me, honey, could you please ease up a little, your request was answered before the words could even leave your mouth.

At the sound of two new muffled voices carrying up from the living room and what appeared to be noises from shuffling feet, Bucky rose straight from the bed, off you.

Your gaze trailed his to the door, and you reached for him.

“Baby, it’s just—”

Bucky was back on his feet. Yanking his boxers and pants up his legs and buckling his belt in no time at all.

The movers. It’s just the movers bringing in furniture—

You moved your hand closer to your husband in the hopes of stalling his movements for half a second, but then a set of ruthless blue eyes had you pinned, quick:

“Stay.”

Your outstretched arm was taken up in a much stronger, stiffer one, and you were suddenly pulled over to Bucky.

But you knew from the eyes it wasn’t him at all.

And you weren’t so much being tugged toward him as you were being hauled to the floor. Thrown on your knees beside the bed, next to Bucky. He was about to leave.

Without thinking, you reached for one of the legs of his trousers and sank your nails into the fabric to hold him in place, to tell him again that there was nothing to see out there but the people you knew, no threat outside at all. But Bucky was deaf to your pleas, it seemed. He shrugged you off easily and made a move for his gun, expression blank, stolid, calm, hardened. Decided.

You tried to rise to your feet but were stopped.

“STAY,” Bucky boomed again, this time an order that he didn’t even deign to complete with a look your way.

If he had—if he even possessed the ability to consider anything but the immediate task at hand—he would’ve seen his own hand knock you to the floor to keep you from standing. Might’ve caught a glimpse of the instant your head struck the edge of the nightstand before you hit the ground. Could’ve even made out the first traces of blood that came trickling out from above your temple. Would’ve seen you cower back, viscerally, out of fear.

But holding the side of your head and watching him leave, grim realization twisted at the pit of your stomach, and you knew the man wouldn’t have stopped if he had.

If your soldat’s objective was to protect you from any harm lurking outside that door, real or illusory, nothing you were capable of doing now could stop that. At expense to yourself, at expense to him, at expense to whatever lives stood between the Winter Soldier and that unwavering, hardwired goal, he still would not ever stop.

Thinking of new, innocent lives in the balance, now, you scrambled for your phone the next second to call Steve.

You tried him once. Twice. A third time crawling on your knees, then standing, then staggering over to the door and pulling the phone from your ear just to send a string of texts to your friend while the thing continued to ring.

SOS

Need help

Pick up please

Bucky’s stuck and he’s

About to hurt people here

A crash sounded outside. You hurried to the door. Your hand closed around the knob and tried to turn it. The handle turned freely, but something behind it was refusing to let you leave the room. You pressed again.

“Bucky!”

Your cry was useless in the face of the barricade outside.

You pushed your shoulder and, behind it, the whole force of your weight against it anyway, trying to get out.

The line went dead. You tried again.

Now with your phone to one ear and the bedroom door taking the brunt of your hits from the other, bleeding side of your body, you scarcely heard much of anything else. The ring started. Stopped. Began again when you pressed a shaky finger to Steve’s contact name, and continued in a cycle for some time while you tried to force whatever was on the other side of the door away.

The second a voice broke through the haze of your frantic, half-crazed state of consciousness, you cried:

“STEVE!”

“Mrs. Barnes?”

You were shocked to hear a woman on the other end. Your pulse was still racing, shoulder aching from the impact of each desperate push you’d been forcing against the door, and then you stopped. Another loud something sounded down the hallway, further away, but you were too startled and unnerved to take any note of it.

You started to ask, ‘Where’s Steve?’ when the voice continued:

“This is Mrs. Barnes?”

“Yes,” you answered woodenly.

You held the phone as close to your ear as you could, but still, the woman’s words were coming in and out in bursts. You must’ve mistakenly accepted the call when trying to reach Steve—you couldn’t think right now; could barely retract the phone far enough to see a strange number displayed on the screen. You swallowed.

“—from Lenox Hill Hospital at Northwell Health—”

The high-rise medical center on the Upper East Side you’d visited that week. Bucky had wanted you tested for nutritional deficiencies and anemia, of all fucking things.

“—if you had a moment or two to chat and maybe—”

No, you needed Steve, not this outpatient courtesy call.

You would’ve liked to hang up. Should’ve hung up. In fact, your fingers were practically itching to hit the button the whole time the nurse was speaking to you, but something in you just couldn’t be persuaded to do it. It took several more seconds before your senses began to creep back, and by then, when you were about to drop the call, you heard a phrase that stopped you on a dime.

“—but the doctor advises prenatal vitamins—”

“What?” you snapped, far more harshly than you meant.

The nurse paused a beat, whether from incredulity at how rude you’d just sounded or to consider something. When she resumed, she sounded a little more guarded.

“Yes…Dr. Watkins did reach out to you about your bloodwork from your last visit, didn’t she? I thought—”

“No,” you said, rushed and painfully brusque, again. You tried to rein in your tone some before continuing, “She didn’t—didn’t reach out about anything. What vitamins?”

Another pause.

“Prenatals.”

You hated that she gave you another second to chew on that word before taking a breath and pressing on.

“I’m terribly, terribly sorry to be the one to spring that on you, Mrs. Barnes��I thought you knew…um—” The nurse was sheepish now, almost embarrassed to be speaking, “—you’re about…three weeks along in your pregnancy.”

Three weeks along.

Advised prenatal vitamins.

For the child growing inside of you.

A rivulet of blood trickled into your left eye.

Your whole body was apt to convulse, but it didn’t.

You hung up.

—

Taglist: (please lmk if I missed anyone! I can only tag 50 at a time so will continue in a separate post) @vicmc624 @she-could-never @mcira @kentokaze @identity2212 @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx @stinkerbelle007 @opibarnes @wilsons-striped-ties @desigirlxx @pono-pura-vida @geminiflanagansblog @buggy14 @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @buckysdoll1520 @armystay89 @minimarvelingmarvel @kunakizen @ghostiebby06 @blackhawkfanatic @dameron-grantspector @sushiseoks @deansapplepie @mrsjoequinn @gyokujyn @lunaroserites @first-edition @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi @excusememrbarnes @daisychainsoflove @mostlymarvelgirl @diannana @shawnberry @yujyujj @urmomsalex @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @athenabarnes @christinabae @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast @wintrsoldrluvr @bethbunnyy @i-heart-smut @aagn360 @dahliawolfe @fantasyfootballchampion @lilyevanstan1325 @kandis-mom @thealyrs

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michellesneptune · 20 days ago

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HOW THE MOON SIGNS ACT WHEN THEY LOVE YOU pt. 2

cancer moon/4h

ultimate cuddlers!!!

this is really biased and feral but i feel like people are here for the tea??

although i think they can be extremely sweet and loving, my opinion remains the same: not all cancers are to be trusted. i think it’s heavenly to be in their good graces, but i also feel like the closer you get, the harder it becomes to be genuinely accepted by them. that is, of course, if they don’t see you as fully deserving of their love. i have yet to be in a relationship with a cancer sun/moon that gives me their full trust. i always feel like they’re frugal with their love towards me. their intentions seem a little hmmm unclear? like they will not speak up about something they don’t accept about you but slowly, in their hearts, they turn away from you??

i am of course speaking solely from my experience. moon is at home in cancer, embodying the archetype of Demeter — the goddess of fertility. when Demeter gets back her beloved daughter, she blesses the whole earth with months of fertile spring. however, when things don’t go her way and Persephone returns to Hades, everyone has to suffer from her sadness during the barren winter months.

if they perceive you as a really worthy partner, they will spoil you with affection. nevertheless, i’d rather not get the short end of their stick!

leo moon/5h

leos have this innate need to feel proud of their lovers. potential partners should possess the it factor about them, da special sparkle. this also applies to their friends! it makes sense, as the sun in them shines so bright, they want their people to illuminate as brightly.

i believe their standards are even higher than virgos’ or capricorns’ and it’s not talked about enough! leos will not engage with just anyone! they have this splash of royalty in them, they can sense a weak self-esteem from a mile.

they want to be able to talk and talk and boast about you. and they want you to make them feel like the only girl in the world.

but here’s the clue. if they feel like you’ve become too boring, their loyalty won’t let them break up with you but slowly the flames stop burning. i’ve seen this happen in a leo moon-taurus moon relationship which makes sense, as taurus prefers persistent, daily acts of service that build a steady, reliable love over time, whereas leo lives for the drama, for the promise of an eternal love, big displays of affection, achieving greatness together.

i’m so sorry if this sounds harsh. i find leo placements to be lovely, all the people i hold dearest to me have them (it’s my descendant sign!). they’re so so open and warm, nearly everything is easy with them.

scorpio moon/8h

i need a scorpio moon friend right. now.

they seem like small, adorable babies who will give up everything for the true, devoted love. their feelings’ depth knows no bounds. extremely loyal, obsessive in the best way possible, what they seek in the other person is a safe haven to hide all their emotions in.

they’re portrayed as very secretive and closed off, even manipulative, but inside they are dying to show somebody their real self. because yeah, behind the darkness there is a small sleepy kitten i feel like.

also here’s the thing: they didn’t choose the darkness, it chose them. their intensity is draining for you, but it’s them who have to deal with it non stop. their emotions are turbulent and it’s often hard to be peaceful, but if you’re willing to accept them as they are and share your own darkest vulnerabilities, they’re yours forever.

aquarius moon/11h

these natives are the best of friends that you could ever wish for! they’re extremely invested in their friend groups, always making sure to initiate contact and check in. they need this as much as they need to breathe and eat! as we know, aquarius is traditionally ruled by saturn, so maybe that’s why they act like glue, keeping their friendships alive, not letting the bonds fall apart as they often sadly do without proper nourishing!

in this situation though, a hierarchy is formed and, sorry to inform the hoes, you come after bros :((.

these guys can be so unpredictable with their feelings i guess there’s no formula on how to get them. i would say befriend them first and then be eccentric enough to still spark the electric interest, the one that they seek in potential partners.

what’s worth noting is the fact that aquarius is a fixed sign, so whatever their quirks may be, they ultimately are loyal and devoted. they are a great paradox and even if they seem detached, they pay attention to their surroundings. whom they need is a persona as big as theirs, someone that shares their passion for the world and everything it has to offer, preferably concerned with big ideas and humanitarian causes. they notice magic in the mundane so their spouse needs to be special as well! when they find you and you find them, you become their person.

the bond they create with lovers might seem unusual to those of more traditional views. aquarius natives need their time away and a lot of solo time to detach and recharge. however, in turn, they will blow your mind with extraordinary thoughts and you will never look at life the same!

#astro observations #astrology #astro community #astro notes #astro placements #moon sign

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witchywithwhiskey · 23 days ago

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to save me from tears

pairing: DARK!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: you thought you were going on a weekend getaway to the cabin of the guy were seeing, but it turned out bucky barnes had no intention of ever letting you leave. now, one year later, it's the anniversary of an important milestone in your relationship, and he knows just how to celebrate the special occasion.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), dark themes and elements, non-con/rape, abduction, drugging, imprisonment/captivity, sexual exploitation of reader, forced camgirl work, live-streaming sex, smut, rough sex, painful sex, unprotected sex, piv sex, anal sex, double penetration, oral cockwarming with a dildo gag, squirting, sex toys, bondage/shibari, sadism/forced masochism, ass spanking, degradation, objectification, dacryphilia, choking, breathplay, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (doll, winter slut), mind break, reluctant stockholm syndrome, reader passes out during sex, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, if i missed something please let me know!

word count: 5.6k

a/n: here's my second entry for @the-slumberparty's december daze challenge, using the prompt: Has it been a year already? my last fic was so sweet that apparently i had to balance things out with the absolute darkest, filthiest fic i've ever written. i guess i was feeling some type of way, idk!! anyway, i hope y'all enjoy ♡

december daze challenge masterlist

Frank Sinatra’s “Silent Night” played softly from a speaker in the corner, the chords lilting serenely through the cold basement, the choral harmonizing of the background singers becoming a soundtrack to the depravity you were forced to endure.

It occurred to you that you might wonder how you’d ended up where you had, but you knew exactly how—you’d trusted the wrong man.

Bucky Barnes had been charming from the moment you met. The former army sergeant had wooed you with ice skating dates and trips to the book store, regaling you with stories from his childhood growing up in Brooklyn over cups of hot chocolate and herbal tea.

He’d seemed perfectly normal, like the kind of man you’d want to settle down with, and you found yourself wanting to start a new life with him. It hadn’t been long, but you thought he was the one, and you began planning what that new life would look like in your own imagination.

Apparently Bucky had been determined to give you a new life as well, but he hadn’t given you a choice about what that life would look like. While you’d been picturing a cozy apartment in the city before buying a house and moving out to the suburbs, he’d been planning something much different.

It had all started that weekend in December, when Bucky had invited you for a weekend away at his cabin upstate. You’d been seeing him long enough that you trusted him, and you were excited, hopeful, even, that your relationship would deepen on the trip.

You were so happy about spending a whole weekend alone with Bucky that you didn’t think anything of the darkness in his voice when he’d warned you to never, under any circumstances, go into the basement of the cabin.

Then, after a weekend filled with delicate kisses and gentle lovemaking, you’d been packing to return to the city when a soft cloth had covered your mouth and nose and you’d smelled something sweet. You hadn’t known it at the time, but that was the end of your old life, and you didn’t even have the time or the strength to fight.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when you’d woken up in the cold basement that would become your only home in the months to come. A thick leather collar had been wrapped around your neck, connecting to a chain that was attached to the heavy wooden frame of the bed you lay on. To your horror, you’d realized you were clad in lingerie that wasn’t yours, some cheap set that still managed to fit you perfectly.

Bucky had been waiting for you to notice him at the foot of the bed, standing next to a camera aimed directly at you.

“Welcome to your new life, doll,” he’d said, a depraved smirk spreading across his handsome face—and expression you’d never seen before. “Time to earn your keep.” His blue eyes had been glittering with dark excitement as he’d clicked a button on the laptop linked to the camera and crawled onto the bed with you.

That had been the first moment you’d seen the real Bucky Barnes, and he’d spent every day since then showing you exactly how vile and perverted he truly was. He’d kept you in the basement of his cabin and forced you to fuck him on camera, using the money he made from it to buy you more cheap lingerie and all manner of toys to use on your body.

The sharp, cracking sound of a palm meeting soft flesh filled your ears, the subsequent stinging sensation reverberating from your ass through the rest of your body effectively dragging you back into the moment of your latest debasement.

The pain of Bucky spanking you with the full force of his strength only joined the other aches already living in your body—but you knew better than to complain or cry or whimper. You’d made that mistake early on, but Bucky had only seemed to soak in your pain like it fueled him.

The first time he’d spanked you, you’d begged him to stop. Instead, though, he only hit you harder, grinning ear to ear while he’d told you that you had no idea what you were in for yet, fake pity dripping from his tone.

But in the present moment, your pain wasn’t only coming from Bucky’s palm.

Your shoulders ached from the way your arms had been tied behind your back, your hands gripping your forearms and constrained by intricate knots of cords wrapped around your body. To further restrain you, your calves were tied to your thighs, leaving you bound and unable to move with your ass high in the air while your face was shoved into the bed.

In honor of the holiday season, Bucky had traded in the coarse rope he typically used for a long string of multicolored Christmas lights, one end plugged into the wall so your skin was washed in shades of blue, red, green and yellow.

The string of lights was much more uncomfortable than the rope, even though that had burned. The wire holding the lights together was so thin, and the small bulbs dug painfully into your skin. If you didn’t know your discomfort was exactly what Bucky wanted, you might’ve let him see how unhappy you were with your current predicament.

Instead, you hid your face in the blankets of the bed, trying to focus on anything except Bucky’s big cock fucking into your cunt at a bruising pace.

Unfortunately, it was impossible to ignore him, his hard length plowing into your body. Not even the cheery lights wound around your body or the Christmas music playing out of the bluetooth speaker in the corner could distract you from the feel of his cock inside you.

Another jarring smack resounded in the cold basement a brief second before the sting of Bucky’s spank quaked through your body. The strike was hard enough that you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying out. You didn’t want to give him that, even if it would’ve been muffled by the blankets under your face.

“How many times do I gotta tell ya, doll,” Bucky huffed, his voice patronizing and impatient, like he was talking to a misbehaving child. “Look at the camera when I’m fucking you.” He spanked you again, so hard you felt your entire body tremble under the weight of it, then he grabbed and groped your ass cruelly enough to leave marks. “Our audience wants to see your face—don’t ya, fellas?”

That last part was directed at the camera. You turned your head, tipping your face toward the lens just in time to catch the reflection of the rakish grin Bucky shot to whoever was watching.

The chat box on the screen of the laptop set up just out of frame lit up, the audience for your daily stream with Bucky telling the both of you just how much they wanted to see your face while you were fucked by his fat cock.

Your eyes caught a few of the filthy, degrading messages before looking away. You refused to believe the way your cunt clenched was in response to what you’d read. You absolutely were not getting turned on by the depraved life your captor forced you to live.

Bucky’s large body curled over your back, his hand wrapping around your throat and lifting your head from the bed so the camera could better see your face. The position shoved his cock even deeper into your cunt, ramming painfully against your cervix and, against your will, your face contorted at the twinge deep in your body.

The chat lit up, chimes dinging fast and furious as the messages came in, and Bucky reached for the laptop so he could read what your viewers had written.

All the while, his hips kept grinding idly against your ass so his cock rubbed even harder into your cervix, making you let out a little whimper of anguish. His fingers tightened around the sides of your neck, enough to cut off your ability to breathe, and your whimper turned into a desperate, scared little keen.

You felt Bucky grin against your cheek, and you could’ve kicked yourself for giving him exactly what he’d wanted—a reaction. But at least his grip loosened, though you knew it was only because he didn’t want you to pass out too soon.

“The chat says you look like such a pretty little toy when I fuck you all tied up like this, doll,” Bucky cooed in your ear, grinding harder into your cunt.

You sunk your teeth deep into your lower lip as your whole body trembled under the assault of Bucky’s thick cock. Despite yourself, you felt your cunt clench hard around his stiff length, wetness frothing and gushing from your hole as he made a mockery of your protests.

Before you’d met Bucky, you would’ve sworn you didn’t like pain. You’d have said you hated it, in fact.

But after so many days and months of being speared open by his fat cock, all three of your holes ravaged by his hard, unrelenting manhood in his need to dominate you, to conquer your body in every way possible, you couldn’t help your pussy’s response to it.

You told yourself it was some kind of defense mechanism, that your body had begun to react to pain the same way it did pleasure. It was the only explanation you could bear to endure. Because if you admitted you’d begun to like the way Bucky fucked you and abused you…

“Ohhh, listen to this one,” Bucky crooned excitedly, drawing you out of your thoughts and giving you a distraction from the way he was working your body toward its undoing. “‘Happy anniversary to the Winter Soldier and his Winter Slut!’”

The names were, of course, fake ones that Bucky had chosen to give the audience of your streams something to call you both. His was based on his past as a sergent, combined with the season when he’d taken you captive, while yours showed his ownership over you.

You hated it. You didn’t want anyone thinking Bucky owned you.

But Bucky either didn’t notice or ignored the way you grimaced when he read the fake names aloud. He turned his eyes, filled with cheerful wickedness, toward the camera.

“Has it been a year already?”

The question was full of charm, and you could almost imagine it coming from the Bucky you’d originally met. The one who might’ve celebrated your one-year anniversary with a recreation of your first date, ending with a heartfelt proposal that the two of you move in together.

Instead, the question hadn’t even been asked to you, but to the camera—to the audience of loyal, degenerate perverts who watched your streams.

The quick, successive chimes from the laptop drew Bucky’s attention back to it, and he hummed in acknowledgement as he read through the messages.

His fingers squeezed around your throat, making you choke harder for the camera, adding to the small sounds of anguish that were slipping from your lips while he kept up his merciless grinding, his cock bruising your cervix.

A new sound, one like a cash register, joined the dinging chimes of the chat message and your heart sank.

That was the sound of people in the chat sending extra tips on top of the subscription fees they paid to get access to your streaming channel. It meant they were making requests for Bucky to do something new—and that never resulted in anything good for you.

Before you could glance at the laptop to try to get an idea of what was coming, Bucky sat back on his haunches, hauling you up with his hand around your throat. Between gravity and the change in position, it felt like Bucky’s cock pushed even deeper into your cunt, pressing against your cervix so hard it stole the breath from your lungs.

“It’s the one year anniversary of your very first stream, doll,” Bucky announced gleefully in your ear, using his free hand to slap at your tits. They were bound between two strings of the Christmas lights wrapped around your body, your soft tits highlighted by the shining, multicolored hues. “Do you have anything to say to our audience, my little Winter Slut?”

It was clear Bucky wanted you to thank them for their loyal viewership, but resentment held your tongue. Memories assaulted you of the very first stream you’d been forced to do.

Bucky had pinned you down on that very same bed, using nothing but his strong hands and large body to pin you to the mattress while he tore your cheap lingerie off your body. Then he’d ravaged you, slapping and groping your tits before biting them so hard you’d started crying.

It had been the only foreplay he’d offered you before he’d shoved his cock deep in your cunt. He was so big and your body was so unprepared that you’d screamed, which only made Bucky laugh. He’d told you, mockingly, that there wasn’t anyone around to hear you scream—only the audience on the dark web where he was streaming your defilement for who knew how many people who were just as vile as Bucky.

Bucky’s fingers digging deep into the sides of your neck brought you back to the present moment, small gasps falling from your lips as he cut off your air again. Your pulse pounded in your head, but you still managed to notice that Frank Sinatra’s “Silent Night” had given way to another Christmas song, the festive music so at odds with the dread and fear pooling in your belly.

“I guess my Winter Slut is feeling ungrateful today, chat,” Bucky said on a laugh.

His tone was mocking in a way that sent a shiver racing down your spine, and you refused to believe it might be anticipation. Your body quaked when his soft mouth brushed against your cheek, the gesture almost like a kiss as he turned his head so he could murmur in your ear.

“Our audience wants to see something special for our anniversary, doll,” he cooed. “They want to see me break you.”

Unease and something else flooded your veins, the conflicting emotions warring for dominance as you struggled to make sense of the way your cunt had clenched around Bucky’s cock when he’d said he was going to break you. You pressed your mouth into a grim line, still determined not to show your reaction to Bucky or the camera, especially when you didn’t understand what was happening to you.

In the year that you’d spent as Bucky’s personal cam star, you’d endured a lot—and if anyone had asked you, you’d have said you hadn’t enjoyed any of it. But over time, that had begun to change. You’d been fighting it, fighting your body’s responses to Bucky and every depraved thing he did to you. It was becoming so hard, and you were growing so tired of fighting, of pretending…

“I have just the thing—but first, let’s fill this slut’s mouth,” Bucky was telling the camera, and you forced yourself to focus back on the moment to prepare yourself.

Bucky shifted to the side, grabbing something from the basket of sex toys he kept next to the bed during streams. When you saw what he pulled out, you bit your lip against a helpless whimper.

He’d pulled out a penis gag, but it wasn’t just any normal penis gag—it was one he’d specially ordered for you. Instead of having a two or three inch dick attached to the strip of leather that would tie around your head, there was a full-sized dildo replica of Bucky’s cock. His big, thick cock.

You tried to keep your mouth closed when Bucky pressed the tip of the silicone cock to your lips, but he only tutted at you with a patronizing click of his tongue. Shifting his fingers from your throat to your cheeks, he dug them in until it hurt. Your jaw gave way.

“That’s a good little cock slut, open for your Winter Soldier,” he cooed patronizingly, shoving the fake dick into your mouth without preparation or remorse.

You gagged as the stiff dildo invaded your throat, tears beginning to flow from your eyes and spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth. Your arms yanked against the Christmas lights holding you bound, but that only forced them to dig deeper into your skin, making your struggle hurt that much more.

While you were distracted by trying to adjust to the silicone cock shoved deep inside you, Bucky secured the leather strap around the back of your head, tying it into place and making it impossible for you to do anything but hold the dildo in your mouth and breathe through the way it bulged in your throat.

Then Bucky was dumping you unceremoniously on the mattress and pulling his cock from your cunt, leaving you to fall face first into the blankets while he hopped up off the bed. You were thankful you could muffle your whimper at the loss of him in the sheets, even as you knew that whatever he had planned would be so much worse than him just fucking you while tied up and gagged.

“I was going to save this one for Christmas,” he was saying from behind a privacy screen beside the bed. It was set up to make sure the camera would only show viewers what Bucky wanted them to see—which was you, and everything he did to you. “But since it’s a special occasion, I’ll let you have your present early.”

When Bucky stepped back into view, your heart nearly stopped.

A leather harness was strapped onto Bucky’s hips, a dildo attached so it hung below his cock. The contraption, which had clearly been specially ordered because you’d never seen anything like it, wasn’t what shocked you, though—it was the size of the dildo.

The fake dick was easily twice the size of Bucky’s cock, bigger around and just as long. Staring at it with wide eyes, you genuinely didn’t think it would fit in any of your holes, no matter how roughly Bucky tried to stuff it in. But your cunt was between your thighs like it couldn’t wait for him to try.

Despite your dedication not to give Bucky or the audience any kind of reaction, you couldn’t help the, “No, no, no, no, no,” that came from your mouth. You couldn’t fathom the massive dildo fitting inside you, let alone you enjoying it, no matter how much your body warmed at the prospect of being fucked with it.

Your protests were muffled by the gag in your mouth, to the point that your words were indiscernible, but their meaning must’ve been understood because Bucky chuckled as he walked back to you.

“I know what you’re thinking, doll,” Bucky said conversationally while he climbed onto the bed and retook his place behind you. “There’s no way it’ll fit.”

He grabbed the knotted string of Christmas lights where they crisscrossed between your shoulder blades, pulling your torso up off the bed so your face was level with the camera. You tried not to look at your reflection in the lens, your mouth split open around the dildo in your mouth and your eyes round as saucers, but it was hard not to stare at the look in your eye—the look of something like fear… or excitement.

“But that’s what’s so fun about it,” Bucky went on, dragging the hard length of the silicone dick through your dripping wet folds, coating the fake cock in the mess of wetness your body was leaking against your will. “It will fit—and it’s going to ruin your cunt.”

Once upon a time, you’d thought the same thing about Bucky’s cock.

The first time you’d had sex with Bucky—before the cabin and the basement and the camera—you’d taken one look at his cock and whimpered in fear. But he’d been so gentle, promising you that he’d take it slow, that your pussy was made to fit his cock.

He’d taken his time, kissing your lips and cheeks and all over your face while he worked his cock into your pussy, giving you another inch only when you’d adjusted to the last and relaxed in his arms. Slowly, and with what seemed like an endless amount of patience, he’d opened you up for him.

That night, he’d made love to you in deep, toe-curling strokes that had wrecked you. He’d seemingly rearranged your body to be the perfect fit for his cock, and then he’d given you the best orgasm of your life.

No wonder you hadn’t stood a chance.

More than a year later, the memory felt like a dream. It was so faded around the edges, aged by the months spent taking Bucky’s cock roughly, furiously, whenever and wherever he wanted, all while he streamed your debasement for the audience on the dark web.

“You’re going to be so loose that you won’t even feel my cock anymore, doll,” Bucky was saying as he dragged you back to the moment by thrusting his own hard length into your cunt, soaking himself in your juices. “You’ll have to beg me to fuck you with this massive dildo just to feel anything again.” He paused, chuckling to himself as he bent over you, pressing a kiss to your spine between your shoulder blades before murmuring darkly, “That’s your Christmas present this year.”

Then, without anymore preamble, Bucky sat up and pulled out. You didn’t even have time to beg or whine before he lined his cock and the dildo up at the entrances to your tight holes, then shoved both into you at the same time. Bucky buried himself inside you so deeply, so thoroughly, that it felt like he was pushing into the very core of your being, conquering your soul just as completely as he’d conquered your body.

The intrusion was so sudden, you never had a hope of preparing, and all you felt was the devastating sting of being stretched past your limit, the overwhelming ache of being stuffed full beyond what you thought your body could ever take.

Pain eclipsed any semblance of pleasure you might’ve gotten from having both your holes stuffed full, and your eyes rolled back in your head, a piercing cry tearing from your throat. A white hot burn scorched through your body, and your mind went entirely blank, leaving nothing but depraved annihilation in its wake.

“Oh fuck, fellas, she’s so fucking tight like this,” Bucky groaned, talking over your head into the camera. “I can feel the fake cock splitting her open—it’s making her ass so fucking tight.”

Humiliation and shame swept through your body at his words, turning the burn into something slightly more bearable, almost pleasurable. There was something about being ignored, being treated like nothing more than a fleshlight or a fuck doll while Bucky completely decimated your body that was so…

You shook your head. No. You weren’t going to finish that thought.

“Fuck, I don’t know how long ‘m gonna last,” Bucky was grumbling, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or your audience.

The words should’ve sounded like music to your ears. You should’ve been happy the torture was almost over. Instead, you felt a pang of disappointment deep in your heart. But you didn’t have time to unpack what that could mean because then Bucky started fucking you.

His hips pulled back until only the tip of his cock and the dildo were still in your ass and pussy, then he plowed forward, shunting his entire length and the fat, massive fake cock into your holes once again. The pain of being split open was already starting to fade, an all-consuming pleasure creeping into the edges of your awareness against your will.

On Bucky’s third thrust, you moaned.

Your mind was hazy with a mixture of pain and pleasure that was leaning more toward the latter, and with the cock gag in your mouth, you were helpless against the reactions Bucky was wringing from your body. The sound of pleasure slipped from your lips unbidden, and your face heated in shame, which only served to add more fuel to the fire burning through your body.

“Did ya hear that, chat?” Bucky crowed, slapping your ass painfully hard—hard enough that another muffled cry was wrenched from your mouth. “Our little Winter Slut is enjoying her Christmas present! She loves getting her cunt ruined, don’t ya, doll?”

He slammed deep into your body as he asked the question and you were powerless, incapable of doing anything but moaning obscenely for the camera, tears streaming down your cheeks and joining the spit that coated the lower half of your face. Long strings of drool and tears were hanging from your chin, dripping onto the bedsheets below.

Distantly, you heard the chimes from the chat log and the cash register sounds as messages and money poured in. They were coming so fast and so furious that you couldn’t even begin to fathom how much money you were making for Bucky while he broke you with his cocks.

Bucky must’ve heard the sounds too, because he doubled his efforts. He picked up the pace of his thrusts, fucking you hard and fast, spanking your ass mercilessly while his other hand still held you up off the bed by your Christmas light restraints. It meant that your face was framed perfectly in the camera frame.

It occurred to you that you should let your gaze drift off, let your mind retreat somewhere deep inside itself where you could hide from Bucky and what he was doing to your body. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the camera’s display panel.

There, you could see the scene Bucky had constructed—your body tied up in glittering, technicolor Christmas lights; your face covered in tears and drool, lips spread thin around the base of the cock gag; your throat bulging from the fake dick buried deep in your mouth; your tits bouncing between the strands of lights.

Behind you, with a look of deeply depraved joy on his face, was Bucky Barnes.

He was naked save for the harness belted around his hips and the santa hat on his head. His big body was on display just as much as yours, his broad chest swathed in pale skin and chiseled muscles, his arms bulging as he held you up and spanked your ass.

Bucky’s dark hair was falling into his handsome face, but the strands didn’t hide the merry grin on his lips or the way his blue eyes glittered with wicked delight as he stared down at the place where his cock and the massive dildo were brutally fucking your holes.

It was too much to watch your defilement. It was too depraved and too…hot.

God help you, but something must’ve finally broken inside you because it was so fucking hot to watch yourself be violated on camera while jaunty Christmas music played in the background and hundreds, if not thousands, of perverts watched Bucky have his way with you.

Your pussy spasmed and clenched around the fake cock in your hole as you thought about those people watching you. It turned you on that the audience knew Bucky was fucking you against your will and not only were they doing nothing about it, they were taking their own pleasure from watching you be ravaged. Your cunt drooled even more.

Bucky Barnes had officially broken you.

That was the only conclusion you could reach, because when you’d met him more than a year ago, you never would’ve imagined that your pussy would be creaming all over a fat, girthy dildo while Bucky fucked your ass and held you tied up with Christmas lights for anyone on the dark web to watch.

But after a year of being fucked hard in every one of your holes, Bucky had finally broken you down until you’d joined him on his level. He’d torn away every ounce of shame, every bit of what had made you you, and remade you in the image of his perfect toy. You were a doll, his doll, just like he called you.

The realization filled you with a sense of peace you never would’ve expected, your body relaxing as your mind went blissfully blank. It was easier this way, you told yourself, as you breathed a sigh of relief. All that was left of you was Bucky Barnes’ perfect doll—his Winter Slut cam star.

Bucky must’ve felt or somehow sensed your submission because he groaned a filthy sound of pleasure and shoved his hips flush against your ass. He paused for a moment, his hand groping your ass possessively before pulling back and ramming home again, burying himself even deeper inside you, the massive dildo bullying your cervix as he pounded into you.

“That’s my girl, take your Winter Soldier’s cock like a good little fuck doll,” Bucky purred, his voice taking on a tenor of contentment you’d never heard before. It was like he was praising you for your submission, for finally giving yourself over to him, mind, body and soul. “You’re being such a perfect Winter Slut, taking me so good and crying so pretty for the camera.”

You preened under his praise, using what little strength remained in your body to shove your hips back onto Bucky’s cocks, fake and real alike, while you sucked enthusiastically on the fake dick in your mouth. Tears flowed harder from your eyes and you sobbed your pleasure, choked sounds of enjoyment falling from your lips.

You could feel the most devastating orgasm of your life building in the core of your being, and you were eager to chase it, knowing it would rewrite the fundamental fabric of your self.

“Fuck yeah, doll, be my perfect little cam star,” Bucky rumbled, slapping your ass in encouragement, the sting of pain swirling with the pleasure he was wringing from your body and adding to the burning bliss scorching through you. “Show the chat how good my Winter Slut can cry for their money—show them how much you love feeling me ruin your holes for Christmas.”

Bucky rutted into you, pounding into your cunt and ass so hard that the clapping of his hips against your skin was filling the basement and almost drowning out the new Christmas song that had begun. It felt so good, so fucking good to be fucked and filled in every hole, that you were close—so close you could nearly taste it.

“Fucking take it, Winter Slut, take the only cock you’ll ever feel again,” Bucky growled, curling around your body and taking your throat in his hand. He squeezed tightly, grinding his cock and dildo into your body, so deep, you could feel them in your guts. “For the rest of your life, you’re gonna do nothing but take my cock and be my pretty little cam star—you’re all fucking mine.”

Something snapped inside you and you felt liquid gush between your thighs, coating the massive fake cock in your cunt. Your squirt sprayed down to soak the sheets beneath you, and all you could do was revel in the pleasure flooding your body, every limb trembling with the force of it while you gasped and cried around Bucky’s hold on your throat.

When he realized what you’d done, Bucky whooped with triumph, crowing into the camera that he’d made you squirt, that you were his perfect little fuck doll cam star. But you were too consumed by your oncoming release, which was barreling toward you with the force of a freight train.

Before it finally hit you, and you came so hard your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you passed out, Bucky wrapped himself more tightly around your body, his chest pressing into your back and his arms wrapping around your front. He choked you with one big hand while the other groped and played roughly with your tits.

To your surprise, he brushed a kiss to your cheek in a gesture that felt affectionate.

“You’re making me so fucking proud, doll,” he cooed in your ear, and you thought, for a moment, that he sounded just like the sweet Bucky Barnes you’d met all those months ago. “You’re the best Christmas present I ever could’ve asked for.”

Just then, your release slammed into you and you screamed—and there wasn’t anyone around to hear you except Bucky and his camera.

Overwhelming pleasure washed through you, darkness creeping into the edges of your consciousness as your body convulsed and you choked on the dildo in your throat while your other holes clenched around the cocks that had split you open beyond your limit.

The last thing you heard before the weight of your release dragged you under was the festive synth pop chords of another Christmas song, and Wham! singing, “This year, to save me from tears, I’ll give it to someone special.”

Somewhere inside you, you knew that everything was going to change once you woke up. Bucky had finally broken you, and you’d given him your ultimate submission. Nothing would be the same, but you found that that didn’t scare you as much as it once might have.

You belonged to Bucky Barnes and you’d finally accepted that as fact. He’d taken everything else, but you still had your heart left to give—and you were certain it wouldn’t be long before you gave him that too. Maybe, at least, it would save you from tears…

As you came so hard you passed out, you accepted that your thoughts, your pleasure, your mind, your body, your soul—your everything—belonged to Bucky Barnes. Then, everything went black.

december daze challenge masterlist

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lenaswritingandstuff · 3 months ago

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Your Teddy ~ Theodore Nott x f!reader (Drabble)

Requested: No

Pairing: Theodore Nott x f!reader

Summary: Theo has only felt pain ever since y/n was kidnapped by Death Eaters, but her return might even be just as painful.

Word count: 811

Warnings: slight mentions of torture; angst; English is not my first language

A/N: I will post the second part on Friday, let me know if you want to be tagged! This is my first time writing for Theo and it's rushed, so I hope it's still alright. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it!

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan

Ignoring the people around him and their confused looks, Theo ran through the corridors, with only four words in his mind - we found miss y/n.

He had spent three months, three months waiting for her to come back, for her to give him any sign, for her to come back to him, for his whole body and mind to function normally again. It had been three months since y/n had disappeared, captured by Death Eaters one week before winter break. The image of her, defenseless and screaming as she was being tortured had been plaguing Theo ever since, and he hadn’t been able to think of anything else other than he didn't know where y/n was, if she was even alive or not, and what kind of atrocities she was facing. He had completely stopped going to class, stopped going to the Great Hall for meals - despite how many times his friends had asked him to come, saying y/n wouldn’t want him to be like that -, staying in his dorm instead, where even despite the constant closed shutters, he couldn’t even sleep, as he had terrible nightmares of y/n screaming for him as she was being tortured every time he tried to sleep.

He had tried to look for her, of course. How could he not? But old Dumbledore had anticipated it, and had ordonned him to not leave the castle without a teacher. The first few weeks, Theo had been going almost every day to Dumbledore’s office, asking if there was new information about where y/n was, and he always got the same answer. I’m sorry to tell you that we do not. But trust, Mr Nott, that we are actively looking for her and that I am sure that we will find her. At the beginning, Theo had somehow managed to control his anger and frustration, but at one point, he had screamed at the headmaster, saying that it wasn’t enough, that no one could understand what it was like, and even had broken a few items.

But, today, Professor Snape had knocked on his door, saying the four words Theo had been dreaming to hear. And now here he was, running to the hospital wing. He only slowed down when he arrived by its door, and, still breathless from the running, immediately opened the door, and then rushed inside to the only bed that was currently occupied.

“y/n!”

“Mr. Nott, please don’t-”

But Theo ignored Mrs Pomfrey’s words and walked past her, instead going to sit on the bed and hugging y/n’s body as hard as he could. Mrs Pomfrey continued to protest and ask him to stop, but he couldn’t care less. All that mattered was here, in his arms. He gently stroked her hair, feeling his eyes burn with tears. All the pain, stress, fear and anger that he had felt from the moment he learned that she had disappeared faded away, replaced with her warmth presence and the feeling that fucking finally, she was safe, safe in his arms like she was supposed to be.

“Cazzo, y/n, baby. I missed you so much.”

You’re here. You’re here. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.

He slightly detached himself from her but only to kiss her forehead and look at her, look at the face and eyes he had fallen so hard in love with. But instead of looking at him with warm eyes full of love like she always did, there was only confusion - which was also shown in her frowning - and that was the moment he realized she didn’t hug him back, or even touched him at all.

“Um, I…I’m sorry, but…who are you?”

If Theo thought he had known pain every second of y/n’s absence, that was nothing compared to the heartbreak her words caused throughout his whole body and mind. He was now also confused, and his arms dropped from her by themselves.

“y/n…It’s me…Teddy.”

Your Teddy.

“You…” He had never struggled to find his words so much before. “You don’t recognize me?”

y/n opened her mouth to answer, apparently embarrassed and turned to the matron for help.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Nott, but Miss y/l/n lost all her memories. Professor Dumbledore and I are still trying to figure out why, and how to bring her memory back,” she said with a kind voice, before turning to y/n and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Miss y/l/n, this is Theodore Nott, your boyfriend.”

No! Not Theodore, not Theo, fucking damn it. It’s Teddy for her. For her and nobody else. Teddy.

Her Teddy.

y/n nodded and looked at Theo.

“I’m sorry for not remembering you. I can’t remember anything, really.”

Theo rose from the bed.

“No, I’m sorry.”

Not wanting for an answer, he turned around and left the hospital’s wing, feeling more broken than when he entered it.

PART 2

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#harry potter #hp #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #tom riddle #lorenzo berkshire #blaise zabini #draco malefoy #regulus black #slytherin #lorenzo zurzolo

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glossdebut · 2 months ago

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PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 01

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: recreational drinking, yoongi is an asshole (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 6.1k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: NEW ERA NEW ERA NEW ERA! whew!!! i’m excited for this one! this is going to be a loooong ride, so buckle up and enjoy! please note the slow burn tag on this one, because i’m not joking around with it. trust me, it’s going to hurt me just as much as it hurts you.

a HUGE thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for continuing to beta read for me <3 your commentary never fails to make me laugh and your edits save my life.

P.S. everything i know about the korean music industry is informed by my years as a kpop fan. i don’t know much about the rock scene there, so expect inaccuracies galore going forward. i do my due diligence where i can, but that can only help so much.

CH. 01: ALL YOU PEOPLE ARE VAMPIRES!

You aren’t entirely sure when you stopped feeling at home in places like this. There has to be some kind of defining event, some kind of indicator of The Before and The After, but every time you try and figure it out you come up short.

In The Before, not all that long ago, you would be scrounging for the bus fare rattling around in your pockets to get to a place like this as soon as you punched out from your shift at the Speedy Mart.

During your short stint in college, your friends didn’t understand your obsession. Music venues, to them, were fun for a weekend’s night out. The thrill of flashing a fake ID, of flirting with the musicians after their set, of getting said musicians to buy them drinks—it was a satisfying rebellion, a fun story to tell people at school and hide from their parents.

But you were there every day, even after classes and graveyard shifts under fluorescent lights, always racing to the nearest show without even changing out of your polo. It was never a rebellion to you. The lights, the thumping bass, the secondhand smoke—it made every nerve ending in your body light up.

You were born in this smoke, as far as you’re concerned.

Maybe it’s different now because it’s work to be here. But what isn’t work, these days? Your life is micromanaged down to the minutiae—the meals you eat, the products you use in your hair, your goddamn piss breaks. There’s no clocking out for you, no gasp of relief that comes after. Such is life for one of Seoul’s many playthings.

Even in the dead of winter, your stylist, Hyerin, has you in a dress that begs to be pulled down every five minutes like clockwork.

You learned a long time ago to bite your tongue on matters like this. The brands you work for pay you for the exposure you give them, after all. The chill that settles in your bones from the ten steps you take from your paid car to the venue door will be well worth it next time you count the zeroes in your bank account. At least, that’s what Hyerin told you as she pushed you out of the car and into the cold.

Wasteland looks the same as it did the very first night you ever stepped foot inside. Same red, glowing guitar sign above the entrance. Same shitty overpriced drinks. Same sticky floors. It’s nice that some things never change even when you do.

You’ve never been on the balcony, though. You’ve gotta hand it to Jeongguk—he’s really pulling out all the stops. To your knowledge, the balcony is normally reserved for VIPs. Close friends and family of the band, other celebrities, lucky and well-connected fans. Significant others. You suppose you fall under more than one of those categories now.

The crowd gathered on this side of the stage buzzes incessantly around you, waiting for the set to start. The excitement is palpable, and you understand why. It’s the very last show of Burn The Stage’s very first world tour following the release of their third studio album, and they’re ending it here: in Seoul. At Wasteland no less, the venue that housed the show that got them signed in the first place. Of course people are excited.

If you were the same person you were in The Before, you would be, too.

Instead, as the stage lights go down and the crowd roars around you, you down the rest of your drink and pray it’ll do its job and calm your fidgeting. For a split second, the thought that maybe you shouldn’t be drunk tonight passes through your brain, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. Your hopes of making a good first impression were squandered as soon as Hyerin zipped up your dress.

Besides, it’s not as if Jeongguk picked you for your shining reputation. More like the opposite.

With a flash of lights and a cacophony of sound, Burn The Stage launches into their first song on the setlist. The crowd roars around you, but you’re not here as a fan, so you try to remember everything Jeongguk taught you in preparation for tonight.

If you weren’t already close, most everything there is to learn about Jeon Jeongguk himself could easily be found with a simple Naver search.

Not only is Jeongguk the lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist of Burn The Stage, but he’s also the de facto face of the band, and he couldn’t be better suited for the job. He’s beautiful. Like, seriously beautiful. Well-built and knows it, sings songs about love and sex and anger with the sweetest voice known to man, covered in tattoos and piercings that eommas everywhere pretend to disapprove of when they’re actually ogling just as much as their daughters. He’s a teenage girl’s wet dream, and with that comes hordes of them using the deductive skills of the NIS to figure out the last time he took a shit. Very little in his life is a secret, whether he likes it or not.

The rest of the band, in turn, gets the luxury of a little bit of mystery.

Park Jimin, the drummer, and Kim Taehyung, the bassist. Jeongguk’s best friends in the world. You’ve met them both in passing before, at industry events here and there, and they both seemed nice enough.

Jimin has a bit of a reputation for being temperamental, angry, but the way Jeongguk describes him paints him as something gentle. Childhood friends who’ve known each other since scraped knees and runny noses.

It’s public knowledge that Jimin wanted to be a dancer, before this—that when he was in college, he suffered an injury that ended his dancing career before it even started. One moment he was one of the most promising ballet students in Seoul, and the next he was retired at nineteen. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but every time the band is interviewed the question is inevitably asked. Do you have any regrets? You’ve watched the videos, seen the way he shakes with anger even as he answers with a saccharine smile. You have a feeling getting along with Jimin won’t pose any challenges for you. You know a thing or two about regrets.

Taehyung is a bit harder to figure out, but not in any way that sparks concern. He’s just an interesting guy that way.

He was the last to join the band, the first to answer a ‘BASS PLAYER NEEDED’ ad posted around the city. Apparently, he was so good that they didn’t feel the need to call anyone else.

He lives in his own world, does his own thing. Posts very artistic photo dumps on his Instagram with concerningly cryptic captions. He’s quiet when he’s around people he doesn’t know, but when he’s put in a room with Jimin and Jeongguk he becomes the loudest person there. He’s kind, caring, always seems to know the right thing to say even if it’s delivered in the strangest manner possible.

Jimin and Taehyung won’t cause any problems for you. Jeongguk assured you that they’d be easy to win over, that as long as Jeongguk likes you, you’re in with them.

The real wild card is the guitarist. Min Yoongi.

According to Jeongguk, Burn The Stage wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for Yoongi. When the band formed, they were just dumb kids with a shared dream, but Yoongi was the one to set it all in motion.

When they didn’t have anywhere to practice, Yoongi convinced the ajumma he worked for to let him cram as much equipment as he could fit into a tiny noraebang room. When venues wouldn’t book them without the guarantee that they would draw a crowd, Yoongi burned hundreds of CDs and stood on the streets of Hongdae begging people to listen. When shady entertainment companies started offering them laughable contracts, Yoongi found Namjoon and somehow convinced him to manage them for dirt cheap. When they finally got an offer worth taking, Yoongi made them mull it over for as long as they possibly could. Weigh the pros and cons and decide if it was what they really wanted.

If Jeongguk is the face of the band, Yoongi is the heart. Unfortunately for you, this particular heart is very well-guarded.

Yoongi takes his privacy seriously. He refuses to answer interview questions he deems too personal, he doesn’t use social media. When asked why, his answer is always that he wants the music to speak for him.

Because that’s another thing: every single song that Burn The Stage has ever released has been penned by Yoongi. To his credit, it’s kind of what they’re known for. His lyrics have a raw honesty to them that’s gotten the band into trouble more than once.

You finally tune into the show that’s unfolded below you, the words spilling from Jeongguk’s lips loud and clear in your ears now that you’re paying attention.

Well, I ain't got no dollar signs in my eyes That might be a surprise but it's true Said, "I'm not like you and I don't want your advice Or your praise or to move in the ways you do and I never will" 'Cause all you people are vampires And all your stories are stale And though you pretend to stand by us I know you're certain we'll fail

It’s rock music. It’s polarizing, controversial, edgy. Biting the hand that feeds them—especially in the eyes of the executives lining the band’s pockets, you’re sure. And yet everyone eats it up.

Still, Yoongi wouldn’t get away with half of it if he wasn’t attractive, you’re sure of it.

Because he is. Attractive. They all are, and he’s no exception. He checks all of the boxes annoyingly well. The long hair, the signature smirk, the little silver barbell on a tongue that he seems all too happy to flash at a moment’s notice. Too bad he seems like one of those pretentious, tortured artist types that take themselves way too seriously. That’s never done it for you.

Jeongguk is the one singing Yoongi’s words, and he might as well be Korea’s sweetheart—if it weren’t for all the tattoos. He conveys the message of Yoongi’s songs exactly as intended, but he doesn’t have to act like an egotistical gatekeeper to do it.

Maybe it’s a preference on your part. You’ve always had a thing for sweetness.

★ ★ ★

After the concert, you’re ushered off of the balcony by one of the band’s security guards. It’s the same guy who escorted you up when you arrived, and you note to yourself that he’s very polite. Eunwoo, according to his nametag.

It tracks, given Burn The Stage’s reputation for making sure the women at their concerts feel comfortable in the crowd. You’ve heard stories about them stopping mid-song to have handsy men kicked out, and it’s nice to know their commitment extends to the people they employ for themselves.

Eunwoo offers you his hand palm-up as you descend down the balcony stairs, and you take it with a grateful smile. You’re feeling wobbly in these shoes, and the drinks you’ve downed since your arrival aren’t helping matters. Even with the assistance, you still feel like a baby giraffe as you step down, but thanks to Eunwoo, you don’t eat shit.

Eunwoo dutifully guides you backstage, to a grimy, graffitied hallway housing the dressing rooms for Wasteland’s talent of the night. Jeongguk waits outside of one of them, guzzling down a bottle of water as a female staff member dabs sweat off of his forehead with a pristine white towel. She’s only there for a moment before slipping back through the dressing room door. Finally noticing your approach, Jeongguk turns his head and grins at you, and you feel your nerves ebb away instantly. He’s good at that.

As you get closer to Jeongguk, you turn to smile and nod at Eunwoo in thanks. He smiles back politely, wordlessly falling back to give you some privacy.

“Daaaamn, YN-ah,” Jeongguk says, whistling lowly as you reach him. “You’re going to cause a bloodbath in there.” He nods his head towards the dressing room door, and you roll your eyes despite the heat building in your cheeks.

“I know, I know,” you say, smoothing your hands over your dress. “It’s not exactly a meet-the-family outfit, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“Nah, it’s cool. You look hot,” he says, grabbing your hand and making you do a spin, forcing a surprised laugh out of you as you try not to trip over yourself. Jeongguk keeps you steady, though, with a hand on your shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, although you’re sure your face gives away how terrified you are of what awaits you on the other side of the door. “Maybe you should’ve picked an actress for this, though.”

“I trust you,” he says softly, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s not too late to back out, though. I’ll understand…”

You believe him, of course. Those doe eyes don’t lie, and even so, he’s already told you over and over how bad he feels for asking this of you. But you don’t want to back out. Jeongguk has given you so much since you’ve met—it’s only right to try and repay him for it.

“I want to do this,” you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand on your shoulder. “I’m just worried I won’t be able to pull it off.”

“You will,” Jeongguk says, smiling down at you warmly. “Don’t sweat it too much, okay? We’ve got this. It’s not like I have to pretend to like you.”

Right. You wish Jeongguk’s words did what they were meant to and instilled some kind of confidence in you, but what they actually do is make your chest ache uncomfortably. Pull yourself together, you think. Now’s not the time.

You smile good-naturedly, hoping Jeongguk doesn’t notice the way it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” you mumble.

“That’s the spirit!” he laughs, sliding the hand on your shoulder around to the other one so his arm is slung around you. You hate the way your heart flutters, despite the fact that you’d prepared for this. Dumb bitch.

Jeongguk cracks the dressing room door open just enough to ensure that all of the men inside are decent, and then he’s guiding you inside, your hands flying down to smooth your dress over again, just in case.

The dressing room is bustling with more people than you expected, people you recognize from the balcony and staff alike. There’s a fast-paced rock song playing over a bluetooth speaker, almost loud enough to drown out the chatter.

Everyone seems to be in celebration mode after the last show of the tour. There’s a large sheet cake on a cart in the middle of the room emblazoned with the band members’ faces in frosting, plastic champagne flutes littered around the room in varying states of fullness. Judging by the bottle in his hand and the way staff members wipe at his face fussily, it seems like Taehyung took the liberty of pouring champagne over his head to cool off.

You’re used to having lots of eyes on you—it comes with the job—but something about the way Jeongguk’s bandmates immediately stop what they’re doing and take notice of your presence startles you, puts you on edge.

“Jeonggukie! You missed the cake,” Jimin calls, standing up from where he sat on the couch. He holds out a slice of the sheet cake to Jeongguk, tilting his head at you as he approaches. “Where do I know you from?”

Jeongguk removes his arm from your shoulders to take the plate, snorting at the image of his decapitated cake-head staring up at him. “Hyungs,” he says, grabbing a plastic fork and digging into the slice. “This is YLN YN.”

“Oh, we’ve met before! The model, right?” Taehyung pipes up from where he’s still being wiped down, and you nod politely. “I saw your Innisfree campaign last month. I couldn’t remember whether your skin was really that nice in person.”

You watch as he extricates himself from the staff, ignoring their protests as he walks away from them.

Taehyung gets close to you, close enough to inspect your pores like he clearly intends to, and you fight the urge to instantly recoil. Jeongguk seems too busy stuffing his face with cake to interfere, and you want to make a good first impression. So much for your personal bubble.

“It is,” he says, nodding sagely to himself.

“Th-thank you?” you stammer. Beside you, Jeongguk finally tunes back in.

“Jeez, hyung,” he says around a mouthful of cake. He chews for a moment, swallowing thickly before continuing. “Let her breathe.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung says sheepishly, backing out of your personal space, and you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, shaking your head.

“It’s fine,” you say, mustering a polite smile.

You note that despite his initial (albeit subtle) acknowledgement of your existence when you walked in the door, Yoongi now seems entirely disinterested in interacting with you. He hasn’t moved from where he’s planted on the couch, focused intently on strumming his guitar. How he can even hear what he’s playing over the noise is beyond you. It’s not even plugged into an amp.

You’d be a little annoyed that he hasn’t even bothered to greet you, but you reason that he must be pretty worn out from all of the fanfare surrounding the show tonight. Introvert recognizes introvert. You try not to take it personally.

“Do you know Jeongguk-ah well?” Jimin asks, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes bounce between you and his bandmate. He seems to be putting the pieces together, so you glance at Jeongguk, wordlessly passing the question his way.

Thankfully, Jeongguk seems to get the hint. He tosses his plate in the nearest trash can before sliding over to you again, his arm slipping around your waist easily, betraying nothing.

“Hyungs,” he starts, glancing at you and nodding once. Let the show begin. “YN-ah is actually, um… my girlfriend.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi sit up. That got his attention, it seems.

A hush falls over the room, even the eyes of the staff members within earshot widening in response to Jeongguk’s announcement. Oh shit, you think. Please let this go well.

“Since when?” Taehyung asks, curiosity piqued. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t seem upset by the new information. At least, not as far as you can tell.

“Well, um,” Jeongguk starts, tonguing nervously at his lip ring. He pulls you closer so you’re practically curled against his chest now, and you silently pray that the way you’re looking at him reads as sweet and not like you’re about to jump out of your skin. “It’s actually been a few months now… Since right before the tour, actually.”

“Right before the tour?” Jimin asks, his brow furrowing in obvious confusion. “So you’ve been doing long distance?”

Jeongguk glances at you, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it was bad timing on my part,” he says, his eyes fixed on yours. Damn. If he didn’t have such great pipes, you’d say he should’ve gone into acting. He’s male lead material. “I just couldn’t leave without telling her how I felt.”

You wish that you could do or say literally anything useful instead of just clinging to Jeongguk’s side like a barnacle. This is supposed to be a joint effort, but you feel frozen in place, unable to find your voice. It’s a good thing Jeongguk seems to be pulling it off all on his own.

“So cute,” Taehyung coos, bumping his shoulder against Jimin’s conspiratorially. “Our Jeonggukie’s all grown up and in love.”

“He’s always been a romantic,” Jimin joins in, miming at wiping fake tears as if he’s a proud parent. He reaches out and grabs your hands, startling you. “Please take care of him.”

“Hyuuuungs,” Jeongguk whines, tearing his arm away from you to whack Jimin and Taehyung on their heads simultaneously. “You’re going to scare her away!”

“Doubtful,” Yoongi says from where he’s still seated on the couch. Oh, so he does speak. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice all night. It’s low, raspier in person than in the videos you’ve seen online. His words are directed at Jeongguk, but when you turn your head to look at him you find that his gaze is fixed on you. Your pulse spikes at the discovery. “I don’t think anything could scare her away from you, Guk-ah.”

The words themselves are innocuous, even supportive, but something about the way he says them makes your gut twist. Nobody else seems put off by it, but you can tell something’s not right. You have to say something, to open your mouth and speak. You have to pull this off, for Jeongguk.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, forcing a smile. You manage to tear your gaze away from Yoongi, looking back at Jeongguk. He’s grinning down at you, and it’s real, even if the pretense of it isn’t. Your smile becomes a little less forced in return.

★ ★ ★

Jimin and Taehyung are insistent that you stick around and celebrate for a while, so you do. You end up enjoying yourself, despite the weird moment with Yoongi.

Jimin and Taehyung are fun to be around, just like Jeongguk said they would be, although conversation between the three of them becomes a little hard for you to follow sometimes. They just talk so fast.

They ask you questions about your job, your friends, your family. They also tease Jeongguk relentlessly in front of you and seem all too thrilled to find out that you’re their noona. You find it surprising how easily you open up to them, but it just… happens. Just like it did with Jeongguk when you first met.

You relax enough to convince yourself that your perceived pointed nature of Yoongi’s words earlier was all in your head. Surely, he couldn’t have a problem with you when he doesn’t even know you. Jeongguk told you himself that Yoongi’s a quiet guy. Maybe that was his own way of telling you he approves of you. He hasn’t said or done anything since to make you think otherwise. Granted, he hasn’t said or done anything, period.

Once he arrives, you meet Namjoon, Burn The Stage’s manager. Jeongguk told you a little bit about him, but it was mostly just thinly-veiled thirsting. Now you see why.

He clarifies right off the bat that he already knows who you are, which saves you the anxiety of having to go through the whole routine again, and then he apologizes for being late.

“I was talking to reporters. I wanted the guys to be able to celebrate without having to do any interviews,” he explains as he shakes your hand with a dimpled smile. Damn. Yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk one bit.

After a while, the champagne catches up with you and you have to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

The staff member that was dabbing Jeongguk’s sweat earlier—Minji, you learn—directs you out of the dressing room and to the nearest women’s bathroom further down the hallway.

You try to make it as quick as possible, much tipsier than you thought and all the more unstable in these shoes because of it. After one last check of your hair and makeup in the mirror, you make your exit, focusing down at your feet as you go.

Unfortunately, you run headfirst into someone’s chest in the process. Hands come up to grab your elbows, steadying you before you fall flat on your face. For a second, you think maybe Minji had been waiting to escort you back to the dressing room, but these are not a woman’s hands holding you up. Wait a second, you think. You definitely saw these ring-clad fingers displayed on a huge screen earlier. Strumming at a guitar, perhaps?

In a moment of amazing mental clarity on your part considering the state you’re in, you realize that these are Min Yoongi’s hands, and your head snaps up to look up at him.

“Yoongi-ssi! I’m so sorry!” You quickly right yourself to the best of your ability, pressing your hand to the wall next to you for support.

Once he’s sure you can hold yourself up without his help, Yoongi instantly retracts his hands, crossing his arms over his chest. “I should’ve been looking where I was going,” you add, doing your best to bow in apology without losing your balance again.

Yoongi tilts his head at you as if he’s assessing you, his gaze inscrutable. Man, for a lyricist this guy isn’t big on words. You’re just about to politely say goodbye and head back to the dressing room when he finally speaks.

“I’ve spent the past hour trying to figure out what your angle could possibly be, but I’m coming up short.”

Um. What?

“Huh?” you manage, blinking at Yoongi like he’s suddenly grown a second head.

“It’s not like your career’s in any trouble. Nobody thinks you're Korea’s angel or anything, but your shit reputation hasn’t stopped you from getting brand deals,” Yoongi continues, scoffing to himself. “Are you just bored? Is this what you do to amuse yourself?”

Uh oh. He knows. He knows for sure, and even worse, he thinks that you’re the mastermind.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, forcing your voice to remain level. You don’t even try to defend your reputation. It’s not like he’s wrong.

“Right,” Yoongi says, leaning in a little closer, like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Well, a word of advice. If you want people to buy that you’re really in love with Jeongguk, you could try to look less like you’re going to throw up when he touches you.”

FUCK. You thought you pulled it off. You thought you pulled it off, and now here’s Jeongguk’s goddamn hero telling you point-blank that you didn’t. You wrack your brain trying to think of anything you could possibly say to defend yourself, to get this guy off your ass, because this cannot be your fault. You’d never forgive yourself.

“I—”

“Or,” Yoongi starts, cutting you off. “You could just cut the bullshit and leave Jeongguk alone.” He pauses, rubbing his chin as if he’s pretending to think about it and then nodding once. “Yeah, let’s go with that one.”

Jesus Christ he’s a piece of work. You feel your fists clench at your sides, your nails digging painfully into your palms. You just got your nails done, and there’s a strong possibility you’ll draw blood, but it’s all you can do not to strangle this asshole right here and leave Burn The Stage without a guitarist.

“Yoongi-ssi,” you say, your words dripping with fake politeness. Fuck this guy, actually. “I don’t know what I’ve done to give you such a bad impression of me, but I assure you that Jeongguk and I are very much in love.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t buy it?” Yoongi asks, voice tinged with impatience. “You may have everyone else in that room fooled, but not me, and if you hurt Jeongguk I can guarantee it won’t end well for you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap. “Again, I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done to make you think so poorly of me, but I meant what I said in there. I’m not going anywhere.”

You need to remove yourself from this interaction right now before you do something stupid like burst into tears. You take the opportunity to push past Yoongi before he gets a chance to say anything else, making sure to essentially shoulder check him in the process because again, fuck this guy.

You stalk down the hallway, feeling much more sober now. It’s as if all of the alcohol got forcibly drained from your system in the face of total fucking disaster, and you’re honestly thankful for it, because the last thing you need is this asshole seeing you actually fall.

For a moment, you’re fooled into thinking you’d successfully ended the conversation, but of course he needs the last word.

“I know more about you than you think, dollface.”

Dollface? The fuck?

You chance a glance behind you and you immediately regret it. Yoongi leans against the wall where you left him, an amused smirk spread over his face, and the sight immediately fills you with dread, a type of primal panic you haven’t felt in four years flooding your senses.

He doesn’t… He couldn’t know about that. There’s no possible way. Jeongguk doesn’t even know about that. Nobody does, because you’ve done everything in your meager power to keep it that way.

You whip your head back around to face front, your heels clacking on the crusty linoleum beneath them as you continue down the hallway. Don’t look back, you think. He doesn’t know.

You’re thankful that you brought your bag with you to the bathroom, because you’re very much not in the mood for a party now. Once you’re safely outside, you call your car and send a text to Jeongguk explaining your sudden escape. You felt sick, you tell him.

It’s not like it’s a lie.

Yoongi loves being on stage.

Over the past few years, there’s been a noticeable change in his demeanor. He’s become passive, apathetic to the normal day-to-day that comes with being a celebrity. Nothing really wows him anymore.

He remembers the way he reacted to the accommodations the band received when they first got signed. He was way too scared to ask for things at first, but the label gave it all to him anyway.

For instance, Yoongi’s always been particular about his stationery. The first time he filled a notebook after getting signed, he didn’t even think to consider it a company expense. Why would he? He was fully capable of buying his own shit, even if he had to save up for it. Sure, every time he had to write a lyric down on the back of a receipt his eye would twitch, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before.

But the label guys noticed. Before he even had a chance to buy his next batch of notebooks and pens, he was sat down in a spacious meeting room and asked point-blank what he needed. When Yoongi gave them specifics—Leuchtturm 1917 unlined hardcover pocket journals and a fuckton of Uni-Ball Jetstream Premier pens—they didn’t even bat an eye. When he—rightfully—warned them that he might strangle someone if he’s handed a gel pen instead of a ballpoint, they just assured him that wouldn’t happen.

Ever since then, there’s been an endless supply of exactly what he needs, always within reach. He’s still grateful for that, of course, because he goes through those fuckers fast. But it’s just a fact of his life now. It’s not special to get his fucking Leuchtturms anymore, not when he could douse his entire supply with gasoline and burn it on a whim and still have a fresh one in his hand within mere minutes.

And it’s not just journals and pens.

Namjoon is the band’s representative. Yoongi picked him personally long before there was any contract, or even hope for one, and if everything were to go to shit tomorrow, Namjoon would still be there. But after the single from their second album charted on the Billboard Hot 100, a label-equivalent to Namjoon was hired, as if anybody could ever be equivalent to Namjoon. Park Hyunseok. Park Hyunseok, whose sole duty is to buzz around Yoongi and his bandmates like a pesky fly and “make sure they’re happy.” They quite literally want for nothing.

Yoongi remembers when his skin used to buzz with the emotions simmering just under the surface. He was fiery in his youth, pissed off and ready to prove a point. He felt everything strongly, fully.

Not so much these days. Anger is only marketable for so long, or so he’s been told.

For the past year, Yoongi’s felt numb to the world. And he’s dealt with it, of course. That’s what he does. The album did great, the tour sold out, the boys are happy. That’s really all that matters. He just doesn’t know how he’s going to write another fucking album if he’s got nothing to write about anymore.

Still, he loves being on stage. There’s nothing like it. It never gets old, never gets boring. He still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling of stepping onstage and feeling a crowd scream his name, scream his lyrics right back at him. Lyrics to songs that he wrote in his shoebox apartment when he was eighteen and it felt like nobody gave a fuck about him. Funny how things change.

Nobody can take that feeling away from him, even if they’ve taken all the other ones.

It’s been a good night. It feels good to be back in Seoul after being away for months, feels even better to be on this particular stage again. Yoongi always feels keyed up after a good show, itching to do something with all of the energy thrumming through his body, and tonight is no different. He’s almost giddy with the opportunity to celebrate this tour with his bandmates and Namjoon and then go home and crash. Home. Fuck, it’s a good night. He has a hot date with his king size bed.

But then you.

It’s been years since you’ve even been a thought in Yoongi’s brain, and he liked it that way. Unfortunately, it’s apparently true what they say: all good things must come to an end.

Yoongi sees right through you. He's met so many of your type in his life that even if he hadn’t met you before he would’ve been able to sniff you out the second you walked backstage. Users. Social climbers. The bored and braindead looking for their next toy. The exact kind of person he’s been trying to protect Jeongguk from this whole time, and now you’re on his arm.

And whatever, a hookup is one thing. Yoongi frankly doesn’t give a fuck where Jeongguk decides to stick his dick. The less he knows the better on that front. But a relationship? No, it isn’t real. Yoongi knows that much. Maybe it is for Jeongguk, but not for you. He's never even heard Jeongguk, hopeless romantic extraordinaire, talk about you.

Jeongguk introduces you as his girlfriend, and suddenly it’s like Yoongi’s watching a car crash in slow motion. He prays that he’s not alone, that Jimin and Taehyung have caught on to your piss-poor acting skills—seriously, you look like you’re about to pass out—but it looks like Yoongi’s entirely alone on this one. You have them wrapped around your little finger with minimal effort. He has a feeling that comes as naturally to you as breathing.

Of course, Yoongi has the added displeasure of having met you before, way back when. When you had the chance to be somebody, before you pissed it away, to what? To pout in front of a camera for a living? He thought he’d run out of ways to be wrong about you four years ago, but clearly you just can’t help yourself.

And of course you don’t remember him. Why would you?

Yoongi knows Jeongguk better than anybody. He also knows that thing people say about teenagers is true. If you tell them not to do something, they’ll only want to do it more. Jeongguk may be a grown man now, but he’s stubborn as fuck, and he never grew out of that. If he goes to Jeongguk and flat-out tells him that his girlfriend is a piece of human garbage, Jeongguk will only date her harder.

He tries to control the infection at the source by confronting you directly, but it’s clear the fire that he thought you lacked is, in fact, there, if only to piss Yoongi off.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say.

Okay.

If that’s how you want to play, Yoongi can fucking play. He’s going to make you wish you’d left Jeongguk alone when he gave you the chance.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

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silvercloverr5 · 9 months ago

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James Potter is easily the biggest of the three. He’s just so muscular and strong, but in a soft way. He’s got a soft layer of fat protecting his muscles, and I imagine he’s very freckled too. Not sure why. He is the epitome of a golden retriever boyfriend. He likes being the big spoon, and has an INCREDIBLE weak spot for getting his hair played with. Like, it’s literally orgasmic to him. He grew up with everything. Love, money, etc, etc, so he’s probably the touchiest (at first), and is all over you from the start. Also, I think he often forgets his strength and squeezes u too hard and you’ve gotta be like “uh.. Jamie..? You’re.. you’re kinda squeezing-“ and he just puts an arm over ur mouth like “shut up, baby. Sorry. Love you.” He’s adorable.

Remus Lupin is just a normal sized boy, and runs hot like a radiator. Honestly. He doesn’t even need all those knitted sweaters and warm coffee because he just is the embodiment of autumn warmth. He’s littered with silver scars from his lycanthropy, so when u see him naked for the first time, he’s so self conscious. He’d have his arms wrapped around himself, shielding his scars from your view, and you’ve got to prize his hands off of himself. “I’m sorry.. i know they’re not.. appealing.. it’s…” and you’re just like “woah, rem, what? You’re fucking beautiful.” You say that, and he’s yours. He’s not used to love like James is, but he’s probably the one to start getting cuddly. I imagine it’s winter and he’s reading in the common room, and ur shivering because by some miracle the fire isn’t on. He looks up from his book, admiring you for a while and then lifts up his sweater. You SHOOT underneath it and basically curl up like a cat against his bare chest. I repeat: HE IS SO FUCKING WARM. You’d probably have an ‘eternal sunshine of the spotless mind’ moment with him at the start of your relationship though. You know when Clementine is saying she always thought she was ugly and Joel starts kissing her and saying “you’re pretty, you’re pretty, you’re pretty…” yeah, you’d be Joel and he’d be Clementine. But once he’s comfortable, he’s a fucking fiend. You’ll never be cold again, trust me.

Sirius Black is skinny and pale. Like a vampire. Endearingly. I imagine he has a nose piercing and an eyebrow piercing, and he’s all tattooed up. Will DEFINITELY get your initial on his abdomen or collarbone in swirly penmanship. Sirius will act like your best friend even when u two are dating. Bless him though, he’s so used to being hurt and abused by those that are meant to protect him that he can’t trust you at first. I think the first time he came to realise you were different is when you asked him what happened after winter break at his parent’s house, because he was being really quiet and flinching a lot which is unlike him. You cornered him in the common room when no one else was there, and asked him “hey, Siri? What’s going on, man? Tell me.” He insisted, “I’m fine. I swear, sweetheart.” You went to tuck his black curls behind his ear but he flinched, which shattered your heart. You said “Sirius, please. I need to know you’re okay, because I need you safe.” And hearing that, he broke down into your arms. From then on, he’s always in your arms. He adores comforting you, because he’s a big brother himself and so he has the instinct, you know? But man, does he fucking adore being in your arms. He WILL curl up beside you wherever you’re sitting or lying, and is always rubbing against you. He always says “I can’t help it, babe, it’s just the dog in me.” Which he seems to find HILARIOUS. Oh yeah, and he literally can’t sleep unless you’re the big spoon or his head is on your chest or in your neck. He likes to feel safe and protected for once, and you do that for him to no end. He’s THE 70s rocker stereotype, and he loves having matching nail polish with you. You’re best friends as well as lovers.

Sorry for yapping to no end guys!!!

#sirius black x reader #Sirius black prompt #james potter x reader #James potter prompt #remus lupin x reader #Remus Lupin prompt #marauders x reader #the marauders #sirius black scenario #james potter scenario #remus lupin scenario #Sirius black💌*~#Remus Lupin💌*~#James potter💌*~

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satoruhour · 1 year ago

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ur gonna get sick of seeing me in ur inbox lol but t i’ve been thinking a whole lot about sugar daddies and i need to know what the jjk men would be like as sugar daddies and what type of sugar baby they’d go for and and and their favourite things to do with you, both inside and outside the bedroom 💖 and how likely they are to fall in love and make u their wifey

a/n: i am so normal about jjk men. this shit is so long i got carried away. it’s too long that i’ll need to seperate and post nanami’s and toji’s part in a second post TT pt. 2 here

warnings: long piece, sugar daddy!au, discussions of kinks including daddy kink, creampies / breeding, public sex, exhibitionism, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, facials, cumshots, praise, degradation, dp, threesome, voyeurism, orgasm denial, overstimulation, lingerie, brat-taming, let me know if i missed anything. n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

most annoying sugar daddy eva but he’s one of the fun ones where he feels like your best friend and sponsor all in one

i honestly see gojo not having a preference for specific sugar babies, but he doesn’t like babies who are ashamed of their relationship. like it’s one thing to be private of your relationship but another to introduce satoru as just your trust fund without alluding to your relationship

“he’s helping me with my university fees” like yeah any rich FRIEND could do that but it’s different from hooking an arm around his to introduce you two as a couple

sure maybe he may have blurred the lines at first when touches became more personal and whatnot but at this point he’s basically your boyfriend — even if you don’t want to explain the sugar daddy part, he still wants to be know as your partner and equal

you two “met” at an event where you were paid minimum wage for a waitress job, serving drinks to rich ppl and he’s so entranced with how you move. it’s not until later when he goes outside to accompany geto for a smoke that he sees you and your friends who worked the job together just talking and laughing in the parking lot while you rested your feet

it was cute and refreshing seeing your laughter after experiencing your stoic expression in the stuffy event even he didnt want to go to. since it was once of the first few events he started attending as a new CEO

made an impression by approaching you when your friends went in and your back was turned but you took him as a creep and screamed and punched him and he’s groaning while you just apologise profusely

it’s his fault, he knows, approaching in such a dark area but he doesnt mind the dark bruise forming on his nose bridge even when his best friend was laughing from a distance and youre helping him off the ground. your hands are so soft and your voice so sweet he swears he wants to protect you from the get go

after that whole hooha, he finds out youre still a uni student trying to pay off fees and randomly asks if you want to be his sugar baby and realises he wants you to be his gf when you’re playing some digimon video game at his house, enjoying your winter break. youre triumphant in the round and he grabs your wrist mid celebratory pose and pulls you to him

are you going to punch me for payback? gojo pfts and laughs, and just says just wanted to tell you i like you and LEAVES dude is so afraid of your answer until youre wrapping your arms arnd him from behind muttering out a finally and hearing the vibration of his chuckle

gojo wants his baby to ask for help when you needs it, and doesn’t mind being spoiled

LOVES to buy you flashy stuff. glittery, bright coloured things (that somehow still look classy) that scream expensive. gojo is very good at persuasion. he listens you dont like it however

i feel like the more he gets to know you, he understands your style more so while some of the things he buys are still fairly gaudy, you’re surprised every time he manages to purchase something that fits your preference. he’s gotten very good at it

gojo wires you money when he feels like it, whenever. he calls what he has a “sugar baby radar” and it’s just him thinking youre panicking over not having money for a textbook or something and just types in a random amount to transfer to you lol

he’s just a chill guy though, who wants to be a good boyfriend as he is a sugar daddy. like yeah he’s had sugar babies before and he enjoys giving but you’ve always hooked him in from day one and he realises he doesn’t just want to give you money but love too

gojo wants a bit of balance in the relationship as well — so he accompanies you to fashion stores to try on clothes but he would also love it if you followed him to tailor stores or watch stores for normal CEO stuff

you roll your eyes but actually you love every suit he changes into, and you always think of taking him right there

he LOVES his sunglasses that’s one thing he’s always dragging you to look at

and then there is interests that involve the both of you: lingerie shopping lol, jewellery, etc

he gets you a little G.S. initial necklace for your second anni and it looks so cute on you

clingy and so annoying bout it. you love it tho, seeing such a rich guy babble out five more minutes with hair sticking out everywhere.

he surrenders to you easily in the way he lets you crash his place whenever you’re cramming for an exam, or just needs some comfort. his things becomes yours very easily and he smiles when he finds himself wanting to learn how to cook properly when you’re sleeping in

likes to buy lingerie that matches his eyes, but ofc also picking your preferred colour. but seeing the fabric that matches the blue of his eyes drives him crazy, but also he gets to say “my eyes are always on you” and it’s just a reference to how there’s baby blue lingerie on you

HES SO LAME . i swear to god.

also a little bit of a boomer when it comes to younger slang and whatnot and it’s endearing to see when he’s supposed to be a CEO but you can’t help but laugh when he asks you for help on what fomo meant

very open on topics that touchy subjects or sensitive things. he may appear loud and annoying but he’s got depth to him due to his hardships since he was young. like yeah sure a guy who already was in line to take over his father couldn’t have hardships when he was young but he’s always despised this line of work. satoru is still finding a way to break off from his toxic family business to create his own, something that wont come without blackmail and scandals

the first time you heard this you were surprised because you had never seen gojo so serious before. he mentions it’s not obligatory for you to open up as well, but you mumble along about always struggling with money and working jobs to make ends meet. it’s not detrimental, but sometimes you wish there was someone treating you to a small meal or drink

this vulnerable state was early on in your relationship as well, and as you two go along, gojo is so grateful to be able to take care of you. it strengthens your relationship as well, because while you have your funny, hysterical moments, being vulnerable with your sugar daddy turned boyfriend is everything you could ask for

gojo realises the first time he might put a ring on you was when you guys had sex that was intense and broke the headboard LMFAO you two laughed about it during it, but during aftercare you’re patting his chest, telling him how you’ll end work early to meet him at IKEA to get a new one tomorrow — that simple act of going with someone to find furniture like ohhhh my god he was so whipped

like it’s one thing to buy clothes and material things but when you said that, flashes of your possible married life flashed before his eyes and he wants to say i love you but finds you’re already asleep. he can’t wait to actually move out of his family sponsored home into an apartment with you. gojo doesn’t care if it’s smaller than mansions and penthouses. if you’re happy, he is.

n*sfw hc’s below

gojo is open to a lot of things regarding your sex life. he didn’t want to scare you when you first started out but when he found out you’re just as much of a freak as he is he’s going to pound town baby!

not big on the daddy kink ngl (and he also because he’s too pathetic to be called a daddy), but loves using it in the context of cumming in you and breeding you and the prospect of you being pregnant with his child.

even if it’s not on his checklist right now, he just loves the filthiness and saying things like that

loves to fuck in bathrooms of important events, the cold marble against your skin making you freeze up as your eyes can hardly focus on your reflection. you’re just thankful you were able to find the ‘cleaning’ sign to prevent anyone from entering

loves to tease you and threaten to take away his black card and youre whining. hes annoying, asking you to use your words and youre begging to cum on his fingers.

very playful in the bedroom but he’s always calling you his dumb baby who loves getting fucked stupid by him until theres only money and him on your mind

loves it when you wear the extensions to the G.S. initial necklace, buying four more initials: two for your wrist, two for your ankles so he can hear it jingle when you stroke his cock while your flick your tongue at his tip

r hear it next to his ear when your legs are on his shoulder as he rails into you

on a funnier note he would totally fuck you on a bed of money. just for shits and giggles

loves to film you especially in his office, whether you’re playing with yourself or sucking him off or getting fucked he loves it so much bc of the fact he’s so unprofessional in a professional setting

gojo likes it when you initiate sex, especially in places that are risky and pretty public. his office is a starter, coming in dressed in a tight pencil skirt to mirror his insufferable PA who kept making advances on him. she was demoted the very next day LMFAO

but yeah you wore the skirt to provoke him, pulling his tie over the table while a stocking clad knee rests on his wooden desk. there’s a confidence in you he’s never seen before and he just cant resist flicking his eyes down to the suffocating button up shirt you’ve got on

satoru doesn’t care that his whole office can hear you moan out his name or the slaps of his balls on your ass. or doesn’t really care about the construction workers looking at you two go at it like rabbits from the opposite building

the heat of the glass paired with your body that feels on fire is enough to make you lightheaded but the eyes and ears peeking in on your intercourse is so thrilling to you bc you know gojo can just pay them off to shut the fuck up

loves you on your knees giving him head when he’s in an important meeting, the swirl of your tongue feeling so good on his length

but what’s more he loves giving you head even more. doesnt matter where. office table, washing machine, bed, he’s so in love with your cum and cunt and has to eat you out at least once a day

gojo loves to cum in you but also on your face, especially if you wear glasses. seeing his white hot cum splattered on your lenses and your face while your tongue darts out to lick some of it off he swear there’s a few more blobs of cum that seeps out from his tip

warnings for drabble: reader has glasses, pet names, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, face-fucking, praise, facial, cum eating, semi-public sex

“baby— sweetness, oh my g-god…” gojo whines out, once the board members are out of the meeting room, rolling his chair back slowly while you follow on your knees, cock still in your mouth. he’s glancing down at you with such need you’d think you’re the one leading the relationship, the hands in your hair tightening when you lick down his shaft before taking one of his balls in his mouth, sucking at the sack while pumping him.

the long acrylic nails that he paid for are on display along with your G.S. bracelet as you pump his dick, slick, wet noises fill the spacious meeting room. gojo almost wants to say something but your head descends on his large cock again, taking him right to the back of your mouth when his tip hits your throat and you struggle to keep your eyes open as you breathe through your nose.

“fuuckk… that’s it. take me s’well,” satoru moans at the tears forming at your waterline, pulling your head off for a moment for you to catch your breath and you know what he wants to do, because his hips cannot resist one bit whenever you’ve got his dick in your mouth. slowly, he starts to move his body off the office chair, thrusting up into your waiting, obedient mouth and he moans so loud he isn‘t surprised someone hasn’t come in already.

“so wet and warm, princess— s-shit, can’t wait to fuck your cute little pussy,” he has a foul mouth, and you moan around his length at the words, hands tensing around his thighs as he continued to fuck your face. gojo is so rough that your glasses are messed up, tilting to one side but you continue to feel up his body. you would get fired like this, sucking the cock of someone who has their pants pulled down halfway while wet, gurgling noises fill the space. but you knew the CEO, the man who’s now whining out your name as his hips start to stutter, eyes scrunched up in pure pleasure before forcing you off his cock, hands stroking his leaking cock in quick movements. you adjust your glasses like a good girl, sticking out your tongue as you admire the sight before you. want my cum all over your face, angelface?

satoru whimpers out that he’s gonna cum! with his heavy, beautiful cock out, pumping harshly before he shoots his load all over you, spilling his white, viscous liquid all over your face and glasses and you swallow whatever that’s close to your mouth and tongue, darting out to lick up the heavy ball of cum still leaking from his sensitive tip, and he jolts on your tongue.

you giggle, hand closing around his length once more and gojo just groans at its warmth. he loves it, he loves everything ’bout you and he can’t wait to turn over the tables later when he hears you say, “again.”

✶GETO

doting sugar daddy!!! out of sex life he’s the most ‘giving’, but he has his moments of depriving you of things because you being a brat but yes he’s the softest in the normal context of a relationship

similarly, not much preference for sugar babies but he wouldn’t like babies who ask for too much? idk if that makes sense but it’s more of being given so many options of a type of clothing or bag but still whining to want something more expensive

like the money doesn’t bother him but it’s more of your attitude regarding material things. can’t stand babies who are rotten to the core and are actually spoiled that it ruins the act of him giving you things and of you asking for things because no matter what he buys you’re not satisfied

it also pisses him off if it carries into your way of treating people, dragging him away from his co-workers to only want him for yourself, that sort of thing

yea… that. unfortunately he’s had his fair share of babies like that, bc he’s so generous they end up so spoiled and terrible that even now he’s still getting texts from them. poor guy

he likes if you’re able to bite back with your own sort of fire, he doesnt expect you to if you dont like to but it turns him on seeing you shout at a co-worker for gossiping about your relationship perhaps

he met you through your intern position at his company, and it’s been a few weeks before you’re confused at why the CEO wanted to see you

hes not one to rush into relationships but he was so interested in seeing you react to being asked to be his sugar baby that he blurts it out and slaps his hand on his mouth. “wrong thing. my bad”

when you’ve been under his care for a few months, he sees how hard you work while completing other assignments at lunch, he wants you to surrender to him when you need the comfort. lets you sleep in his office and reluctantly stroked your hair, shaking when you lean into the affection. ends up sleeping on the floor watching you and gets massive back pain and suffocates when you fall onto your boss at 7am in the morning

unfortunately the two of you were not exactly on the same page that day. you thought it was a one off thing. geto thinks youre already dating. this goes on for a few weeks ;;;

geto NEEVERR asked you out so you were surprised to find that geto wanted to be like, an actual boyfriend and an actual date when he showed you a piece of paper and it was like a new pottery studio that opened down the road

and he just says ��i thought we already were dating?????”

yeah like he wasnt giving you more things than usual and being more touchy with you. you didnt want to read into it too much okay!!!!

but it’s fine, because geto was one of the best boyfriend you ever had. youre convinced he would be a great bf even if you werent in this sugar daddy / baby arrangement

geto likes to show you off quietly, a hand on your back and your thigh, or a whisper to your ears that it has the other workers talking, but you don’t mind when the things he says are sometimes the sweetest things. they’re also filthy.

it isnt bc he doesn’t want to show you off, but he likes the attention and gossip when you enter his office for the nth time that day and the eyes on him like he’s committing a crime. he likes the eyes that follow you knowing they can't have you. but he pays them, so they can’t say much

suguru loves to buy things that are for his eyes, going back to the ‘showing you off quietly’ part, like paying for a tattoo on your lower back, an anklet that’s sometimes hidden in your shoe, a belly button piercing, lingerie, he loves it

ofc he loves buying you clothes and dresses too, but he sometimes gets a bit jealous of everyone’s eyes on you so they’re sometimes a little less revealing than you would like

ok i should clarify too: he LIKES everyone’s eyes on you only when he knows he can show and tell them that youre his. but how tf is he supposed to do that with a mere dress??? u get what i mean

he’s not going to be an asshole and not let you wear a revealing piece of apparel that you like tho! but just know what you’ll be getting later at night lol

geto is very on trend as an older person, sometimes sending you tiktok trends you can do or updating you on conventions or events that you are interested in

he likes routine, so everyday he’ll be transferring a set amount of money to you for your daily allowance but sometimes you dont even use it all so it just piles up in your account lol

and he is observant, always wiring you more money than usual if you’re going out with your friends or meeting a friend for a bday, sacrificing his time to learn about your major so he can help you in whatever way he can !!! he’s that sort of bf

gives you handmade gifts sometimes!! it’s soooo endearing when he makes time for it and gives you something that isnt bought w/ money. likes to do those photo ones bc theyre ones that mean more to him, but he also rlly likes writing letters under them and giving you like a seven page letter talking bout why youre a blessing to him

is pretty stylish when he’s not in his suits. likes to wear baggy clothes like he’s nineteen again and he looks young enough to pull it off so you two always look cool when you two go out

weirdly his personality at work and on dates is vastly different from each other. you think that maybe he wants to keep work, work. but later on in the relationship you both realise it’s how you’re so easy-going to be around that he doesn’t have to be dominating with you??? like he’s so okay with you putting bunny ears on him or having his arm hooked around yours instead. basically he’s very comfortable in his masculinity and he wishes he could be like that at work too, but the finance bros would be questioning why this guy was even their CEO

geto listens to you easily. and like i said hes observant, bringing you a glass of water when you’re coughing or opening the blinds of his office when you’re reading. the smile you give him after every favour he does is enough reward for him, and he really doesn’t mind doing all those things for you either.

basically worships you, so when you’re suggesting that his company start having courses for men to learn how to be proper human beings (following your question of why he’s so diff at work vs with you), he’s immediately setting up a meeting to achieve that. the guys who are borderline misogynists obviously leave immediately and hes just like. why didnt i think of that b4????

is always always thinking of you. he’s become so distracted in meetings and conversations sometimes and your spell on him is hypnotising.

the first time he realises he properly loves you (and also wants to marry you) is when you two make love. like yes you’ve fucked and shit but it happens inside a shower where you offered to wash his hair. it’s cute seeing you stand on a small stool to reach his height, but the feel of your fingers massaging the shampoo into his scalp is soooo good. and from there he lets you wash his body with the loofah too, scrubbing down every inch until ofc one thing leads to another

he thinks it was your hands that held so much love, washing his body that the sex was slow and had a lot of feelings laced with it.

he also didn’t want to fall, though. but you slipped a little after coming the first time and geto was able to catch you in time. you shared giggles and a little kiss and he thinks that maybe this life forever with you would be one of the best things to happen to him

his resolve solidifies later when he’s calling his usual tiler to retile the showering part of the bathroom and when he ends the call he just goes would i do this for anyone else?

yeah probably not — and so geto buys a ring the very next day

n*sfw hc’s below

very comfortable with letting you take the lead if you want to, but usually likes to be the one running the show

like gojo he is very open to things but only if you’re okay with it. like you have to be the one to bring it up or he’s afraid he’ll scare you lol

gets turned on easily, but he’s very good at hiding it. like the day you wore a revealing dress to his office. it was so difficult not to moan out when he sees you walk through the door. he wanted to stand up and kiss you SO bad but he was in a zoom meeting with potential clients lmfao

but he made sure you knew you wouldnt be teasing him and getting off so easily that day after he asks you to stay where you were and he ended up making up some lame excuse of having another meeting anyway before he leaves the call and locks the door and slams you against it and he hikes up your dress as he places a leg on his shoulder

geto eats you out right then and there

also rmb how i said he gets jealous of ppl staring at you? well suguru loves it if it were to happen in a sexual context and he gets to fuck you in front of everybody. he just cant show them you belong to him at a normal event in a dress he bought, but he’s totally fine with pounding you from behind and letting them watch as you get ruined with tears and mascara running down your face

can be really mean behind doors if he’s not sweet with you. you like to tease him!!!! Sometimes you’re punished for it!!!! geto loves both ends of the spectrum: denying you your high and overstimulating you. he only ever denies you if youre being a brat but usually he likes to make you cum on his tongue multiple times before he’s fucking you

he enjoys your face of want and need, either grinding against him to cum (denial) or pushing him away despite your body wanting it (overstim)

sometimes makes you work for your allowance and tells you to tell him who’s fucking you so good just for some money in your pocket. your pussy is too good so he was going to give it to you anyway

is not opposed to voyeurism. usually he brings his best friend over to fuck you and bc he’s a whiny bitch, geto gets off to both of you fucking like dogs in heat with a slow pace to his hand. often initiates threesomes with gojo and makes him the middle man, fucking him while gojo fucks you and he loves it every time. sometimes he makes gojo watch the two of you too

but he also loves it when you take two cocks in you, him up your pussy bc youre his, first and foremost, while satoru takes your ass.

regarding sex, suguru likes it when you take the reins to pleasure yourself. he gets off seeing you use him as ive mentioned in the previous drabble, and just like the denial / overstim part, loves to see your mouth contort into an ‘o’ along with your rolled back eyes. bounce on his dick, ride his face, slobber over his cock while you rub your clit, he fuckin loves it

not big on the daddy thing either, but it depends on his mood tbh. im not sure how that works but he likes when you use it when youre deep in subspace and just going limp as he fucks you and all can manage is moaning out small “daddy’s” helplessly

warnings for drabble: gojo watches, sub!gojo, voyeurism, insinuation of stsg, exhibitionism, m! masturbation, overstimulation, semi-public sex, oral (f and slight m receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, pet names, praise, cum eating, implied threesome + 2nd round

“suguru— no, f-fuck, they’re gonna hear!” you muffle your moans with your mouth, hand clasped tight onto your lips while you’re pressed up against the door. you’ve been like this for three orgasms already, legs shaking while you struggle to keep your knees from buckling under you. it’s like geto doesn’t even care how the office door is so thin, occasional thumps occurring from how geto pushes you against the wood. the workers outside obviously know what’s going on, but they don’t dare say a word.

“let me enjoy this, princess,” he manages to say quickly before going back to slurping up your juices, but while you think your situation is bad, you’re glancing over to gojo in geto’s office chair, hand stroking his cock languidly, but every so often you can see how satoru thrusts his hips into the air, needing anything but his own hand right now. “and keep eye contact with satoru.”

geto purrs out his best friend’s name, pulling your hips towards his relentless mouth as your arousal drips down your inner thighs and legs. across you, there’s gojo who looks like he wants to touch the both of you so terribly, but is only subjected to tearful eyes and his warm hand that doesn’t compare to suguru’s or your mouth, little pants leaving his mouth. he watches as you grind your hips into his best friend’s mouth, the obscene noises of your sopping wet cunt makes him twitch in his hand.

“babygirl… suguru…” he whines out, sweat dripping down his body at the stuffiness of the office while the slick noises of him stroking his length reverberates throughout the room. geto hums at his begging voice, but only sucks on your clit harder and it makes you moan out, hands getting lost in his long black hair while your eyes are threatening to roll to the back of your head. the only ground you have now is satoru’s bright blue ones, a shiver going through you when he whimpers out your name

“you’re doing so well, s-satoru… shit,” you’re calling out to the white-haired male who locks eyes with you, both turned on at such a sight: the sweaty hair stuck to your face and your beautiful sounds, the flush on gojo’s cheeks and his angry tip that’s leaking pre-cum. “suguruu… oh my god—”

“yeah?” he speaks in between slobbering all over your pussy, “so fuckin’ wet for me, baby,” flicking and playing with your puffy, sensitive clit with his tongue until you hunch over him on a particular lick, the leg over his shoulder squeezing him so much that it cramps and you’re cumming suddenly and you’re forgetting about satoru and everyone outside. your head slams so hard against the door that you get a little lightheaded, but the crashing of your fourth orgasm is all you can fixate on as your body shudders and incessant whines escape your mouth.

“my favourite meal of the day,” geto smiles from below you and grins when you mumble out how it’s more of his fourth meal of the day, taking a hand from his hair before he places a kiss on the back of it and spares a glance towards gojo who’s close to crying.

with a nod from suguru, you’re walking on shaky legs before kneeling before satoru, wrapping your lips ’round his tip and that’s all it takes for him to cum, shooting ropes upon ropes of hot semen down your throat as you stroke his base. the other is bucking his hips into your mouth at the sensitivity, moaning out both your name and suguru’s.

“attagirl.” you slyly smile at the praise that befalls on your ears before showing both of them the cum that’s left on your tongue, already excited for the next round.

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padfootagain · 5 months ago

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Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Pairing : Hozier x fem!reader

Professor! AU

Warnings: hurt-comfort, angst, fluff, no smut but suggestive scenes so 18+ only

Chapter 1 : 'And that orange, it made me so happy, as ordinary things often do just lately'

Chapter 2 : 'Through me the way to the City of Woe'

Chapter 3 : ‘I miss him in the wheeping of the rain; I want him at the shrinking of the tide’

Chapter 4 : ‘For he gave all his heart and lost’

Chapter 5 : ‘But here comes the lyrebird passing through the sky’

Chapter 6 : ‘I’ll lie here and learn how, over their ground, trees make a long shadow and a light sound’

Chapter 7 : 'And so I still wait, like a lonely house, for you to see me and inhabit me again. Until that time, my windows ache.'

Chapter 8 : 'I hope she never learns how to peel oranges'

Chapter 9 : 'I think I will always be lonely in this world, where the cattle graze like a black and white river-- where the vanishing lilies melt, without protest, on their tongues'

Chapter 10 : '[I] was angry that my trust could not repose in the clear light, like poetry or freedom leaning in from sea'

Chapter 11: ‘Lived to see you throwing me aside.’

Chapter 12 : 'Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again'

Chapter 13: ‘So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish.’

Chapter 14: ‘Why should I blame her that she filled my days with misery’

Chapter 15: ‘He’s bored- I see it. Don’t I lick his bribes, set his bouquets in water?’

Chapter 16 : ‘Only the things I didn’t do crackle after the blazing dies’

Chapter 17 : ‘Dear pine cone, let me hold you as you open’

Chapter 18 : ‘What the devil do I care what I know, and what I say?’

Chapter 19: ‘I knew winter cold like the nuzzle of fjords at my thighs’

Chapter 20 : 'My heart has made its mind up and I’m afraid it’s you'

Chapter 21: ‘I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you directly without problems or pride: I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love’

Chapter 22 : ‘And if you missed a day, there was always the next, and if you missed a year, it didn’t matter, the hills weren’t going anywhere’

Chapter 23 : 'Even the dearest that I loved the best are strange – nay, rather, stranger than the rest'

Chapter 24: ‘Sometimes, when I’m pleased, I let out a little sound. A poet noticed this and it made me feel I might one day properly be loved. Because no one is here to love me, I make tea for myself and leave the radio playing’

Chapter 25: ‘They will think of ways to make you smile so you can be happy for a while’

Chapter 26: ‘Well, how else are you to live except by denial’

Chapter 27: ‘They loved music and swam in for a singer, who might stand at the end of summer’

Chapter 28: ‘You are neither here nor there, a hurry through which known and strange things pass as big soft buffetings come at the car sideways and catch the heart off guard and blow it open’

Chapter 29: ‘My lover’s words were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses on these lips’

Chapter 30: ‘You liked me well enough in black; I make you a gift of these objects’

Chapter 31 : ‘Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief’

Chapter 32 : ‘How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then’

Chapter 33 : ‘The scent already in the air’

Chapter 34 : ‘One morning the wind turns, and there is a thaw. And so I must still have hope.’

Chapter 35 : ‘Love comes quietly, finally’

Chapter 36: ‘So I imagine such love of the world—its fervency, its shining, its innocence and hunger to give of itself—I imagine this is how it began’

Chapter 37 : ‘I found the other half above the pillow where you lay’

Chapter 38: ‘They are elsewhere beyond the night way higher than day in the blinding brightness of their first love’

Chapter 39: ‘He grew so tender and I so grateful which maybe tells you something about how it was’

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier fanfiction #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier series #hozier fic #hozier masterlist #masterlist #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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adonis-koo · 10 months ago

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wicked • 20

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 11k

Previous | Next | Masterlist

tags: mastubation (m), strip tease, slight dub con??, handjob, overstimulation, humping, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink (oops), oral (m) & (f), 69ing (OOPS), slight pain kink,

note: this is way later then it was supposed to be...anywayysssss enjoy !!! :)

“How does it feel to be somewhere so familiar, Princess?” Wheein asked as she dressed you for the afternoon.

You hummed as you let her continue to style your hair, “Familiar, but…different now. I was a young girl when I used to roam these halls, but I’m a grown woman now. I'm excited to see my parents, I hope they’ll be attending dinner tonight.”

“It’s only a matter of time now,” Wheein hummed out as she tenderly braided and pinned your hair the way she wanted it, “I don’t mean to pry m’lady but…” She let out a soft giggle, “I can’t help but ask if you and the Prince are now…? Embracing your marriage?”

You couldn’t help but tense, you had tried really hard to be quiet at night but there were definitely a few moments you had been unsuccessful, “Was I loud?” you whispered in horror.

This made Wheein laugh in surprise, “So you’re embracing one another very well?”

You felt your face become hot at the realization that clearly you hadn’t been, but now you had ratted yourself out, “Just pretend I didn’t say that.”

Wheein let out a soft giggle, “I’m happy for you both…After everything you both have been through, you deserve happiness together, you both have had to overcome a lot of things. Take pride in your relationship.”

You gave a small smile in the mirror, “I appreciate your words Wheein. But enough of that, how are you fairing? You’ve never traveled outside of Penumbra before, right?”

Wheein nodded, “This is my first time, I’m nervous truthfully, something about it feels so…Heretical, but exciting…? I hope to be able to explore a little bit in the week we stay here.”

This made you happy to hear, “Kimhae is very beautiful, I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities to go into the capitol to explore.”

Wheein grabbed the crown, onyx, the same you had worn to your formal dinner, it would be a constant here in Kimhae as a show of status along with your wedding ring that dawned your gloved hands.

“Finished. You look beautiful.” Wheein smiled in satisfaction, “Is there anything else you would like before we escort you to dinner?”

You shook your head, “Nothing, besides your company. I missed you terribly when you were away. And while I enjoy Jungkook’s presence, he is by no means good with feather and fuss the way you are.”

This made Wheein chuckle, her nose scrunching in delight, “Nothing brings me more pride than being next to you both. I’ll let the others know you’re ready.”

Jungkook had left the room a little while ago upon Yoongi requesting him outside the room to talk about something.

Standing up you brushed the skirt of your dress of the few wrinkles that had formed from sitting.

This was one of your favorite winter gowns, sheer gold fabric lining from your neckline to your chest, covered in precious gems and the fabric ran to your forearms but it was concealed by bigger dramatic puffy sleeves the same dark midnight blue color of your skirt.

Stepping out of the room Jungkook and Yoongi had ceased their conversation at the sight of you, “I’m not interrupting am I?”

“Of course not your Highness,” Yoongi bowed to you, “You’re just on time in fact.”

Jungkook sighed as he peered out the large windows to the darkened skies, “We’re late.”

“All the best couples are.” You smiled as he offered his elbow out as you grabbed ahold of it, allowing him to lead you down the halls, navigating to the main hall where everyone would be celebrating, after all it was the Eve before Yule.

“His Highness, Jeon Jungkook Crowned Prince of Penumbra and her Highness, Jeon Y/n Crowned Princess of Penumbra.” The caller announced as the doors opened.

It seemed the jolly sight inside had frozen despite the music still playing, you couldn’t help but feel nervous with so many eyes on you, but squeezing the bicep of your husband made you realize you were not alone.

His crown stood tall on his head, dawned in his finest black and gold silk robes for the occasion, he looked like the epitome of confidence and power, and as his wife, you wanted to be his mirror, a strength to him, not a weakness.

You straightened yourself a little, lifting your chin as you let him help you down each step, eyes following you everywhere as people began to whisper, but after having been on the cold gaze of the Penumbrian court, you had found you clearly had hardened yourself to the stares.

Not letting them bother you the way they may once have.

And in the crowd, there were two familiar faces that you had missed so dearly, that did not look at you as if you were a killer, “Mother! Father!” You called out, excitement pushing away the previous feelings of uncertainty, having let go of Jungkook to greet your mother.

Her arms were wide open, eyes beaming with pride as you buried into her, the sweet smell of nectar dripping off her body, the warm comforting smell of home, “My sweet daughter,” She ushered out, pulling away as she grabbed your face, “My look how you’ve grown, she truly looks like a grown woman, no longer our little princess.”

“I couldn’t have hoped for a more lovely daughter to be our future queen of Penumbra,” Your father grinned softly as you mirrored him, immediately wrapping him in a hug next, “We’ve missed you greatly so our little sun.”

You smiled at them adoringly only to feel the towering height behind you, standing at an awkward distance, turning around you gestured your love over, “Come Jungkook, don’t be a stranger.” You let out a soft endearing laugh, this only made him awkwardly shuffle a little closer.

Uncertain of where to look or how to greet, “Your Highnesses,” He gave a small formal bow.

Your mother let a quirk of a pout tug on her lips, “No son-in-law of mine will greet me so formally, come.”

You and your father glanced at one another before sharing a laugh at Jungkook’s pupils widening a little before briefly glancing at you before he hesitated, arms acting stiff in the brief hug before immediately dropping back to his side.

“Surely you’ve hugged this poor boy my dear,” Your mother sighed, watching with a certain pity on her face before turning to you, “He treats me as if I am something to be frightened of.”

Jungkook’s lips parted but you spoke before him, “We’ve embraced plenty, Jungkook is an introvert by nature,” You couldn’t help the affectionate smile tug on your lips as you placed yourself back at his side, arms wrapping back around his, “He doesn’t fair well with social events.”

“I can hold my own.” Jungkook muttered with a puff of his chest.

“Don’t let their teasing get to you,” Your father chuckled, “I’ve never been one for social events either, Esme has always been the butterfly of us both.”

“Oh don’t flatter me.” Your mother rolled her eyes playfully, “Come, let us sit, you must try the wine.” You let your mother lead the way as you all sat down at the large table, your eyes searching the massive party only for them to suddenly lock onto Seokjin’s, halfway across the room.

He appeared sulky, empty wine glass in hand and in a circle of aristocrats talking and he clearly was not paying attention, his gaze set solely on you. You blinked, immediately looking away as you smiled at the cup bearer, pouring you a large glass of wine.

Taking a long sip you hummed in delight, “Eunoian?”

“Imported,” Your mother smiled with love, “Kimhae has always been too tart for my taste.”

“Tart and a twinge of sour,” Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “They never let their wine ferment long enough.”

This immediately had your mother’s attention, a fellow wine lover, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight as she immediately began to complain with him and as she got him talking, Jungkook slowly but surely relaxed as he began his second glass of wine.

“Come, walk with me Y/n,” Your father smiled, shaking his head at the sight of the other two engrossed in gossip of Kimhae, who would’ve thought Jungkook would get on so well with your mother?

The wine was certainly helping all the same.

“I would love nothing more,” You smiled as you stood up, taking your father’s arm as you both began to walk, “How has Eunoia been? I’ve missed it terribly…”

Your father gave you a soft smile, while you had always been undoubtedly close to your mother but… due to her dryad blood, she had always been harder on you as a child, making sure you stuck to your rigorous schedule.

There were many days when she was the source of your tears, but your father? He was nothing but soft for you, always sneaking you sweet treats at night and on the days you would weep, he would read you stories until you fell asleep.

His love was always so soft, barely detectable but you could always feel it through the trepidations of your childhood.

“We are doing well, with the protection Penumbra has given us, we’ve dealt with much less bandit raids, our crops no longer plucked over. Your presence has been an irreplaceable void though.” Your father hummed out, “The throne room hasn’t looked quite right since you left, Arielle never had the straightest cut.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you rolled your eyes, “Don’t say that too loud- lest she hear it all the way from Eunoia and kill all the foliage off in spite…Is she…” You sighed, you supposed you shouldn’t indulge the gossiping part of your brain, it was only a childhood rivalry, you were a grown woman now, those things should stay in the past.

Your father however seemed to know exactly what you were saying, “There is talk,” He mused, “She does not have dryad blood though.”

“Perhaps that is for the best,” You murmured softly, your father peering at you in curiosity as you spoke softly, “Perhap it is time for Eunoia to leave our lesser human nature in the past?”

Your father hummed, “What has you thinking such thoughts, my little sun?”

“...My stay in Penumbra has not been an easy one, I won’t deny it,” You murmured quietly, “I’ve suffered many trials and tribulations, the dryad inside me has proven to be very hard to contain…”

This made your father laugh, surprisingly, “So was your mother’s, her nature still can be from time to time.”

“I just don’t understand, even after all these years. We strive for peace and yet all I want is war,” You frowned, troubled once more, “I want nothing more than to wrong those who have wronged me. And I hate it, revenge has a bitter taste.”

“It’s an inherent nature,” Your father replied, tapping your arm comfortingly, “It’s inside all of us, you are inclined moreso from the polarized nature of a dryad. The beautiful thing about it is that we cannot have life without death. Your mother was never the best at explaining it,”

He sighed wistfully, as if accepting this about his wife, “But it always seemed to me that as a dryad, your duty is to balance it, not strive for one or the other. The giver and taker of life, it may run through your blood but you are not a god Y/n, it is not your calling to be one or the other. But I’ve always seen great things in you. I’ve always felt you’ve been called to mediate the conflict of the giver and taker, give life where it is needed, death when it is warranted. These things are scary when we’ve been taught only one is right, but it is not impossible.”

Dead eyes flashed in your mind, your grip on your father’s arm tightening a little as you took a long breath, “Then why is it I always seem to only bring death?”

Your father frowned, a sad look in his eyes, “You were but a child Y/n, too young to be put in the tents, but your mother was insistent. Death is the only thing guaranteed in life, we must all face it eventually, some sooner than others. This is the way it is meant to be, you did the best with what you were taught.”

You stared at the ground before you murmured, “And…what if…I broke my vow…? What if I had taken a life on purpose?”

Your father paused, slowly his eyes lingered on your figure, your expression was full of sorrow and lament, he tenderly brushed your shoulders, “My words would remain the same, you were never meant to uphold one value or the other. I trust you would never do something rash, if it were not called for.”

You both began to walk once more and for a long moment you thought of his words before you were plagued by a forgotten thought, “I’ve heard….stirrings, rumors.”

“In the beast itself?” Your father laughed, “Do tell.”

“Rumors that…” You lowered your voice, “Eunoia is building an army…?”

Your father paused in somewhat surprise, “Really now?” He paused thoughtfully, “Well, I suppose it would seem that way.”

“But it isn’t?” You raised your brows hoping that it certainly was not what it seemed.

“Did you know that the dryad’s were not just healers?” Your father gave you a knowing smile, “But they were also warriors, it was said they were gifted with the sight of knowing, shooting arrows that could hit even targets from miles away. We have decided to take up the divine dryad’s way of Archery- a form of weaponry, in honor of Penumbra for the Rite of Peace.”

You paused…archery…? Everything made so much more sense suddenly, and it dawned on you that while you knew much about Eunoia, you still had so much more to learn about your ancestors.

“I…I love that Eunoia has decided to pick this back up in honor of Penumbra,” You gave a small smile, somewhat relieved, “Jungkook will be thrilled to hear this.”

“Ah…” Your father hummed, “And I do assume your husband has been treating you well?”

Your nod became somewhat shy, “We didn’t speak the first month but…well circumstances arose that no longer allowed us to hate one another…And somehow, we…began to understand one another? Misunderstandings truly are the root of hate aren’t they?”

“Hate makes all of us blind to the reality of life, nothing is fair, nobody is ever truly free, we all have our burdens and trepidations to bear, not one better than the other. When we embrace intentional kinship, to set aside our differences, and truly learn from one another with compassion and understanding, we are at our strongest…”

Your father hummed before he looked at you for a long moment, “Though it has not been long, you seem older now…Wiser, patient…You both suit one another very well.” Your father praised.

“I would’ve hated those words once upon a time but…” You gave a satisfied hum, “You are right, I couldn’t think of another person I’d want as my husband.”

The evening went on, you and your father had many people come and socialize with you both, many royals and aristocrats alike wanting to know about Penumbra, about the Wicked Prince, about the tall tales that came from its lands.

You indulged none, and left everything vague, giving only knowing smiles and cryptic words, after all knowledge was a currency of its own for royals.

It was well past midnight by the time you and your father had arrived back at the banquet table to find your partners well past the point of sobriety, your mother and Jungkook sharing a loud boisterous laugh as he cackled, “I wish you had seen it, the sword went flying out of his hand and the look on his face was that of a child.”

“Oh come now Jungkook he can barely hold a cup with two hands let alone a sword!” Your mother cackled out, near empty cup in hand.

“It seems we’ve made our timely arrival,” Your father let out a soft sigh as he shook his head, “Come now Esme, let us not insult our host’s family too loud,” He pulled her chair out offering an arm to her, “We ought get you to bed.”

“I agree,” You replied, standing next to your husband’s chair where he was slightly slumped, crown crooked on his head, “We should retire, my love.” You leaned down, fixing his crown back straight.

His hand caught yours as he pressed an amorous kiss against the palm of your gloved hand and a silly little smirk on his face, “If that’s what my goddess wishes.”

You felt your face becoming hot at his words, clearly the liquor making him much more boldly flirtatious then he would typically be in a public space.

Jungkook stood up only to wobble a little, you immediately grabbed his arm, not offering as much support as you wished, but you only needed to get him as far as Yoongi, who was coolly leaning back against the wall, arms crossed and eyes scanning the room.

You waved Yoongi over, his eyes immediately catching your figure as he pushed off the wall, “Can you please get Jungkook back to our room?” You asked.

“Of course, Wheein will escort you back then I presume?” Yoongi asked and you nodded, with that he took your husband back though not without complaint of you not being by his side.

You only smiled briefly only for your vision to be blocked by your mother, grabbing you with an adoring look on her face, very clearly drunk, “While I had my reservations about him, you both make a lovely couple Y/n,” You giggled softly at this as she continued, “And hopefully you’ll make even lovelier grandchildren for me.”

“Grand children!?” You nearly choked on your words.

Grandchildren…?

“Now, now Esme, leave her be, that is their business,” Your father tutted, “Goodnight Y/n, we shall see you in the morning…Or at the very least I will see you in the morning.”

You waved goodbye but your mind was fried at her words…children…You…you hadn’t even thought of children, which was incredibly stupid given the amount of unholy sex you were currently having, with absolutely no regard of how many times your husband emptied himself inside you.

Your hand ghosted over your stomach as you wondered, what if you were pregnant? It was a brief thought with no actual evidence to back it up.

But the idea of blue eyed, dark haired children running around suddenly filled your heart with so much joy, you could hardly continue the girlish smile you had, children…Surely Jungkook wanted children, right?

You pressed your lips together in uncertainty, being the heir to the throne meant it was an expectation but…You didn’t want to bear his children if he wouldn’t share the love he had with you to them.

It was late and you supposed these were conversations you would need to have at a later date with him, sooner than later given just how fast you both had been going.

You called Wheein over as you both exited the party.

The hallways were dark and you had just reached the end when a voice called out, “Y/n…”

Wheein frowned as you both paused, turning around as you noticed the lone figure at the other end of the hall, Seokjin…Wheein briefly looked at you with a quirked brow.

“Seokjin, my apologies for not greeting you at the party, I was catching up with my parents.” You called out as he approached you.

“Nevermind that,” He offered an easy, charming smile, “I know how much you’ve missed them, but…I’d like to speak to you, alone…”

Wheein shifted immediately, not liking this one bit as she stared at the foreigner, briefly looking at you once more, and you could tell she didn’t like this, “It’s late Seokjin, I was just getting ready to retire for bed…”

“Indulge me, just for a moment.” Seokjin asked, holding a hand out to you.

You stared down at his palm, and for the first time you noticed the lack of calluses on his hands, his skin incredibly soft, “...Very well, where would you have us speak?”

“Just up ahead, in my office, your maid may go I will-”

“My maid will stay just outside the office,” You cut him off, Wheein giving a curt nod at your words, “Lead along, I do not have all night.”

Seokjin frowned, eyes lingering warily on Wheein just as her’s did, almost as if sizing one another up before he walked ahead of you both and turned off onto a hall before he stopped, it was vague but you did remember being in his office a few times.

He stepped inside as Wheein whispered out, “Will you be okay m’lady?”

“I’ll scream if I’m not.” You gave her a reassuring smile before you stepped inside, closing the door behind you.

It all came at once, the sudden feeling of invading your personal space, his body pressing into yours and his hands wrapping around you, “Oh my love,” He whispered out, “You’ve become a marvelous actress, but you should be taking my lead to not make things more difficult for us.”

Your body immediately tensed, these were not the arms you were used to being wrapped around you, and these were not the lips of your husband against your ear.

Seokjin pressed his forehead into yours just as swiftly as you were pushing him away, “I am no actress, what is the meaning of this Seokjin?”

Seokjin’s lips slowly curled into a frown at the evident step you took away from him, a safe distance between you both clearly feeling like a rift for him, “I’m here for you.” He spoke quietly, “Albeit he wasn’t supposed to be here but we can make this work, some plans will simply have to be altered.”

You blinked several times, “Plans…?”

Seokjin nodded, a smile slowly curling on his lips once more as he took your hands into his, “We can talk more about it later, but just know that we will be reunited once more Y/n, it’s been sickening…watching the way he drags you around as if you are nothing more then some doll, his hands touching what is not his.”

Your stare hardened as you slowly shook your head before letting out a long sigh, “I’m sorry Seokjin, it seems I was not clear last time we spoke.” Though you felt as if you distinctly remember being perfectly clear, “We are no longer an item, we have not been since the day before my wedding.”

Seokjin shook his head, as if he was in denial, “I have been biding my time for you my love, the days I’ve ached for you, touched myself to you. You can’t seriously tell me you have not yet felt the same?”

He was staring at you expectantly but you were at a loss for words, because while yes a part of you had mourned him the first few weeks of your stay, but after a month Jungkook had become a bigger part of your thoughts with each day, and Seokjin becoming so obscure that you no longer even thought of him unless it was prompted in conversation.

“I’m sorry Seokjin,” It was a genuine apology, “But I cut ties for a reason, I’ve only come to Yule to see my parents and nothing more. I do want you to rest easy…I am very happy in Penumbra, and Jungkook does not treat me like a doll he…” You stared at your gloved hands, “Jungkook loves and respects me for who I am, what I am capable of. And his hands touch me as if I am his, because I am. There is no other man I want to belong to.”

Seokjin slowly shook his head and it made you wince a little. He was taking this harder than you had assumed he would, perhaps because you had assumed your relational ties had been officially cut.

You assumed there might have been a forlorn sort of pining from him, mourning what could have been, but to have this delusion that you both were still romantic lovers was an entirely different subject.

“You don’t mean it Y/n,” He took a step closer to you, hand grabbing your waist making you jolt, “I don’t know what they’ve done to you, but you’ve been brainwashed. Turned blind to their hedonistic ways. You are not the Dryad Princess I know.”

“If they are heathens,” You shoved his hand away from you, “Then I’m afraid I was never going to be good enough for you, for if they are heathens then I cannot imagine what I must be in comparison. I am far more than a Dryad Princess, you say you no longer know me, but it only shows me just how little you actually knew me. I value the time we had together Seokjin, but I love Jungkook. He is my husband and I am proud to be his wife and it will remain this way. Goodnight.”

You promptly closed the door behind you as Wheein straightened up from her fretting state, you gave her a tense but attempted comforting smile, “Come let us go Wheein.” You ushered softly as she nodded.

After a long quiet trip through the halls she finally asked, “It’s not my business but I can’t help but ask m’lady…what was that about?”

You shook your head, “Some things must die slower than others I suppose.” You stopped at your door just where Taehyun walked out from exasperatedly.

“His Majesty is still awake, just a forewarning.” Was all Taehyun said and that was all you needed to know.

“You both are dismissed, I doubt we’ll need any help tonight. And do take the early morning to yourselves, Jungkook will definitely need to rest until mid morning.” You offered a weak smile as they both nodded, perhaps knowing but saving you the embarrassment.

After taking their leave you stepped into your room, lit only by firelight as you quietly shut the door, “So my pretty wife finally shows her presence.” Jungkook was leaning against the bed frame, slumped once more, terribly drunk.

You offered a gentle smile, the tension that had been in your body slowly melting due to his warm presence you had become so familiar with, “So I am here; I did not mean to make you wait so long.” You were in no rush to the bed as you slowly walked over to your vanity, pulling the gloves from your hands and taking the shoes off your feet.

Setting your crown on top of the empty pillow and taking off your jewelry as you felt his eyes burning into your back before you finally approached him.

“What held you up?” Jungkook’s eyes lazily dragged over your body, sitting on the side of the bed as his feet planted on the ground, hands reaching out for your waist, “You were supposed to help bring me back.”

Your smile became just a little shy as your hands settled on top of his, the warm comfort it brought such a stark contrast to what Seokjin had attempted to replicate, “I got caught up, but I’m here now. Help me?”

You turned around as Jungkook stood up, a little wobbly and maybe not the best with his fingers at the moment but he managed to get your dress undone as it fell to the ground, you still had your slip on underneath, it wasn’t meant for sleeping but it was comfortable enough that it would do.

You plucked the dress from the ground before tossing it, the fabric catching on the chair at your vanity before you turned around to face him once more.

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you at the dilation in his eyes, his tongue swiping over his lip feverishly, “Was it him?”

Your brows lifted a little in somewhat surprise and that gave him everything he needed to know, his jaw clenching a little as his hands tightened down to your hips, “Saw the way he was looking at you, as if you belong to him.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you whispered, “But I am yours. You shouldn’t worry about him.” Tomorrow, you would tell him what had happened, but tonight, you wanted to rest with your husband and let him sleep off his liquor.

Jungkook’s nose buried into the crook of your neck before his lips began to press into your skin, and you were quickly beginning to realize this was a telltale sign, his hands roaming your sides before curling around the material of your slip.

“Lay down,” You whispered, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m sober enough,” Jungkook replied with a moan into your skin, “Indulge me, light of my life, you say you’re mine, but I need you to show me. Need you wrapped around my cock.”

His moans against your skin was tantalizingly difficult to say no when he laid back against the bed, pulling his pants down to reveal his fat cock bobbing to his abdominal as he wrapped his hand around it tight, eyes staring at you with a lazy heat as he slowly began to stroke his shaft.

You couldn’t stop the pout on your lips as your arousal immediately pressed into your panties, “You’re drunk Jungkook…”

“Mmm, I can be drunk and have my cock rode.” He replied, his hips stuttering a little as they lifted into his fist, his cock squeezing through as he moaned, “Do you not see how desperate I am for you? Don’t deny me now.”

Precum was beading against his slit as you slowly pushed your slip up, letting your panties drop as he moaned his hand pumping his cock all the way up to his bulbous head before squeezing it all the way back down, “Fuuck, that’s a good girl, show me those pretty tits.”

Slowly you peeled the slip up your body, one inch at a time as Jungkook’s hand eagerly worked his cock, eyes lidded as he moaned, watching the fabric tease just below your bust, ‘Don’t tease me now.”

You pulled it up, your tits bouncing as he swore, fist pumping his cock furiously as you pushed it over your head before letting it hit the ground, “Nee’ you Y/n, mmm, need your warm cunt.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how whiney he was at the moment, getting up on the bed you straddling his thighs as he moaned his hand slowing down to lethargically stroke his cock, eyes trailing up and down your exposed body.

Leaning down a little you couldn’t help but curiously wrap your hand around his base, his stroking paused as he released his own grip, “Mmm, stroke it.”

You couldn’t help but feel a little shy, it was so thick and heavy in your hand, “How do you like it?” You whispered out, trying not to let yourself be intimidated.

Jungkook reached back down, his hand wrapping over your own, grip suddenly being crushed much more than you would’ve expected, “Hard, like when it hurts.” His thighs tensed as he guided your hand up his shaft, roughly pumping back down to his base as he hissed out.

You mimicked his movements, letting your hand jerk up his cock as he guided it back down each time forcefully, you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way his cock moved with each stroke, his fat head slowly beginning to turn red, as if angry to not have it’s release.

“Mmm stick your tongue out,” He mumbled, “Want to watch your spit drip on it.”

“Jungkook..” You ushered in embarrassment.

He smiled wickedly, “Would you rather suck it instead?”

“If you had chosen to stay sober,” You teased right back, taking a long breath you appeased him though, sticking your tongue out as salvia slowly gathered at the tip of your tongue before a large glob slowly hit the fat head of his cock.

Jungkook jolted and stiffened beneath you, a deep moan escaping him at such a lewd sight as your hand wrapped around his tip, dragging the fluid down his cock making it more pliable, he could hardly stand it as your hand squeezed harder around him.

“Fuck yeah, like that, nice and hard.” He moaned in pleasure, eyes lidded and watching your hand with each rough stroke, “Mm little harder- shit…!” He moaned even louder as his eyes closed briefly, your hand squeezing nice and hard around his base as you began forcefully pumping his cock just the way he enjoyed it.

His thighs kept tensing beneath you and you could feel your arousal drip on his thigh as you slowly shifted slotting your own thighs beneath his thick taunt one as your hips couldn’t resist but to wiggle, your wet puff slit dragging open along the warm skin of his thigh.

“Mm that's it, good girl,” He moaned deep, eyes locked between your little cunt making a mess all over his thigh and your hand, working his cock nice and rough, “Rub your little clit on my thigh.”

You let out a little whine at your clit sliding against his skin, pleasure frictioning against the open plane as your grip on his cock tightened, hand fisting all the way to the head of his cock as you roughly pumped his head, as if trying to squeeze the cum right out.

Jungkook’s moans were salacious and wonton, not holding back in the least as his hips suddenly thrust upward into your hand, his thigh rutting into your cunt as you let out a small breathy moan, enjoying the mess your cunt was making.

You spit once more on his cock making it slide with ease once more, “Mm just like that, fuck Y/n, yeah, mm gonna’ cum.”

Jungkook’s hips were impatiently thrusting upward as your hand forcefully pumped his cock, his thigh continually rutting up against your clit just the right way as you let out whiny moans, “Cum for me, please, that’s it, cum.”

Jungkook was pliable at your voice, whining and begging softly as your hand tightened around his cock once more, the sight of you bending slightly, your tits bouncing and your tongue sticking out, only this time his fat head aimed at your mouth.

It was such a lewd sight, Jungkook cursed loudly, your hand roughly stroking his cock as the pleasure became blinding, the sight too tempting as he grunted out a deep moan, cumming hard as he kept his eyes wide open for the spectacle, spurts of white cream shot from out from his slit, hitting your tongue, “Fuck, oh my god, yeah, suck it, please, fuuck, suck it up.”

You appeased him, your lips tenderly around his head before sucking it harshly as he cried out another deep moan, eyes unable to pry away from the sight, one arm forcing his hips down to keep from rutting into your mouth as your other hand forcefully pumped his cock of every last drop of seed.

Your lips stayed wrapped around his fat head as you felt more substance dribble out from his weepy sensitive head.

Your hand pumping every last drop he had to offer as his thighs violently twitched with each stroke of your hair, his moans were loud and obscene as he growled, “Keep going fuck, can take it.”

That deep dominant voice had you pliant, obediently swirling your tongue around his slit, cum slowly leaking back down his cock as you stroked it.

You could tell he was overstimulated just by how violently his body was twitching but just as you kept going his cock slowly started to harden once more, pulling off his head as you swallowed the rest of the substance, a subtle sweetness in it otherwise tasteless.

Jungkook moaned, his hyper sensitive cock resting back against his abdomen, “Wanna cum in that pretty little cunt now.”

You couldn’t help but feel somewhat shy, “Are you sure?”

Jungkook moaned softly as his hands wrapped around your hips as you shifted yourself, “Why wouldn’t I be? Nothing satisfies me more than watching my cum drip from this little hole.”

You shuddered as you grabbed his cock, watching the way he sucked a harsh breath in, teasing his weeping cum covered head against your slit before slowly sinking down on it.

The stinging sensation was absent, only the feeling of his fat cock sliding inside you with ease as you both moaned, “…Even if I become with child..?” You whispered out.

Jungkook’s hands suddenly gripped your hips even tighter, eyes lifting with a wicked smirk on his face, “Why do you think I've emptied inside you every time? Mm is that what you want? My seed nice and deep inside this cunt until your belly becomes swollen? Filled with my child?”

Your cunt harshly wrapped around his cock, you hadn’t expected your body to react so harshly to his words but it was making your clit throb in excitement, the idea of becoming pregnant with Jungkook’s child.

Your hips were immediately bouncing, your cunt greedily sucking his cock deeper inside as your walls clenched around him, soft whines escaping you, “Mm! Please…!”

Jungkook moaned softly, “So I’ve found your weakness,” he cracked a boyish smile, “You want to be my little cumdump? Milking my cock of every drop of cum until you're pregnant with my baby?”

Your thighs were trembling at the idea, the anticipation of his cum spurting deep inside you, the excitement made pleasure bloom through your body as his shaft began rubbing right where you wanted it, “Please…! I’d be good!” You whimper, “I’d take care of our baby…”

Jungkook moaned hands encouraging your hips, roughly bouncing as his big cock forced his way past your little walls, “Mm know you would, have’ the prettiest belly. Prettiest tits…”

Your whines and moans were like music to Jungkook’s ears as you frantically bounced on his cock in need, his hands soothing your hips as you moaned, “Wan’ baby please…! Koo’…!”

“Mm that’s it my love,” Jungkook moaned as your hips became flush with his, feeling your walls wrap around him as came once more, cum burying deep inside you as the loudest, whiniest moan escaped you, cumming all over his cock as you bounced once more, milking every drop from his cock once more as it buried inside you.

Every muscle in your body was tensed as your breath labored, fists curled against Jungkook’s chest before he grabbed them, tenderly uncurling them as he laced his own bigger ones in yours, “So you want my children hm…?”

You slowly opened your eyes, tiredness running in your body as you let out a soft, somewhat shy giggle, “Do you want me to have your children?”

“Is my cock inside?”

“Stop…!” You whispered out, falling against his chest as he chuckled, arms wrapping around you, his cock softening as it slipped out of your body, the warm sensation of liquid dripping down your thighs as you curled up against him.

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shut as he hummed, fingers tracing over your sides, “There’s no one else I’d rather have children with.”

Jungkook had slept heavily through most of the early morning like you had assumed, he did wake up once, stirring a little at the feeling of your tit cupped in his hand, he only gave it a nice hard squeeze before falling back asleep.

The light had begun to shine through and you could tell the halls were busy with maids, your personal servants wouldn’t be in for another hour and a half at least though, and somehow, you thoroughly enjoyed being able to lay with your husband like this.

Far past any reasonable hour to get out of bed.

“Will you survive my love?” You whispered out a small giggle as your hand reached out, brushing back those long dark bangs from his forehead.

He groaned, eyes still closed but you knew he was awake, “It feels like I am an anvil and my headache is a smith master. You never told me your mother could hold her liquor better than you.”

You smiled fondly as you laid on your stomach, propping yourself up on your forearms, “They say dryad blood makes alcohol less potent.”

Jungkook’s eyes shot open, a comedic glare on his face, “I see you’ve chosen to keep that information to yourself.”

“I never thought it was relevant,” You laughed softly, trying not to be loud for the sake of his poor head, “It’s probably why I can drink more than you.”

“And yet you never seem to utilize this ability, you should take after your mother more,” Jungkook groaned as he pulled his arms over his head, eyes squeezed shut once more, “So you’re ready to have my children hm?”

You tried not to choke on your own spit at such a drastic conversation change, “I…”

Jungkook’s lips slowly pulled into a smile, eyes lidded once more as he stared at you, “What got this on your brain?”

Your lips parted multiple times, trying your hardest to not let yourself become shy, but it was difficult under his gaze, “...My mother- very drunkenly told me she hoped for grandchildren soon last night after you departed with Yoongi.”

“Hm yes I do recall her mentioning this to me as well,” Jungkook laughed softly at the expression on your face, “Telling me we would make the prettiest children and that if I wasn’t treating you well she’d personally castrate me- I also see where you get your temper from.”

You weakly smiled, you wanted to say your mother would never say that sober- but you knew good and well you got her temper in a much higher dose then even she had.

“She was one of my teachers,” You replied, “...Is it…you don’t think we’re going too fast?”

Jungkook rolled onto his side, “What do you mean?”

“Having children?” You raised your brows, “I…I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner, but with how we’ve been…It may be a good possibility.”

“We’ve been married for almost a year now,” Jungkook mused, “True half of it hasn’t been on good terms but the court…” He sighed, “I hadn’t wanted to tell you because I didn’t want you to feel pressured but…The Penumbra court has started questioning me on when they can expect an heir.”

Your lips slowly curled into a frown, “I’m not surprised…” Because regardless of how either one of you felt about this, there was a duty to uphold, “Is that why…?”

“No,” Jungkook immediately cut you off, head resting against the pillow as his hand reached out, tracing your jawline, “Our moments have been organic and I had no hidden agenda behind them, but I won’t deny that I’ve emptied inside you continually because I am intentionally trying to get you pregnant- for the sole reason of wanting to have a child together. Not because the court expects me too...”

Your stomach felt like butterflies had formed, something like arousal stirring in your body at his choice of words, “You’ve been trying to get me pregnant without telling me?” It wasn’t meant as a reprimand but more of a soft tease.

Jungkook let out something between a laugh and a scoff, a boyish look on his face, “Figured’ the action spoke more for itself I guess. Nothing screams "I want to get you pregnant” like burying my cum inside you.”

“Jungkook…!” You whispered out.

Jungkook laughed harder before wincing, hands grabbing his head as he groaned, “This horrible, ugh Eunoian wine always gives me the worst headaches. Seems you and the wine have something in common.”

You clacked your tongue, “And here I thought I was going to be nice this morning and give what you had requested the night before.”

Jungkooks eyes blinked back open, curiosity brimming as he squinted, “What does that mean?”

“You only get to find out if you take back the headache comparison.”

“It may give me a headache but it’s just as sweet as your cunt- Ow!”

You had immediately straddled him, taking your pillow with you as you hit him on the head with it as he grabbed it, tossing it aside before his hands snaked around your asscheeks, “There it cancels out, now continue.”

You could feel the pang of arousal in your cunt as you situated yourself, leaning forward a little as you smiled, “You’ve been rather mean to me this morning, are you sure you’re worthy of it?”

“You like it when I’m mean,” Jungkook flirted back, fingers digging into your ass, multiple bruises had already stained your skin in the form of his fingers, and it looked right now would be stained on your skin later as well, “I could be even meaner- After all, you let Yoongi take me back and then that rat got his hands on you.”

You raised your brows with an amused smile, “I assure you no rat had his hands on me for more than a moment.”

You could see it in his eyes, something dark stirring as his jaw clenched a little, a possessive tone in his voice, “A moment is still too long- what did he want?”

Your hand traced down his chest as you replied, “It seems I was not clear enough when I ended our relationship right before you and I wedded. Seokjin had this idea that we were still lovers.”

“And?”

His fingers dug even harder, nails starting to dig into your skin, not overly painful but just enough for your cunt to feel it, “And I told him I belong to you, and that there was nothing left.”

Jungkook huffed, fingers relaxing a little, “Couldn’t stand the way he looked at you last night, acting like he had any right to stare at you like that.”

You laughed softly at his broody look, “Well trust me, Seokjin isn’t getting to experience what you are.”

Your lips pressed against his clavicle, Jungkook’s lips parted to make a remark but they paused as you lifted yourself a little, kisses fluttering down his chest as the bed cover was slowly pushed back, his naked body revealed and his cock hard and proud.

It was difficult to not be aroused when he knew you were naked in his bed, but the sight was even more to behold as your tongue softly pressed against his abdominal, his sucked in a harsh breath of air as the soft wet muscle slid towards his pubic bone.

You planted another kiss against his pubic bone before pressing your tongue back against his warm skin, sliding it down to meet the base of his cock, his hips physically thrusting in need as you let out a shy laugh.

Jungkook had done nothing but give you pleasure from the moment he declared his love, you wanted to show him the same, how much you wanted him, needed him, how he would never need to worry about another man.

You only wanted to be his, it was difficult to not let yourself become shy though- yes you had a little experience with this, but it was different, back then you did it as a means to keep things from going further.

You wanted to do this now, but your husband was not what you considered beginner friendly, it felt like a weapon was staring at you.

Jungkook couldn’t resist the soft moan at the sight of you looking up at him, those pretty doe-like eyes all flustered just inches away from his cock, so confident one moment and shy the next.

Jungkook let out an amused scoff, his hand tenderly pressed against your head as he stroked it, “You’ve sucked cock before, go on.”

It was a lighthearted tease that made your lips quiver into a pout, “Jungkook...I…I want you to show me what you like…” You mumbled, unable to look at him whilst saying it.

Jungkook hummed as he reached out, grabbing your head more firmly as he forced you a little closer to his fat cock, “Open your mouth,” It was soft command you couldn’t deny as you let out a breathy moan as you parted you lips, “Mm yeah, now stick out your tongue.”

“Jungkook…” You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment but you felt a sharp tug on your hair in reprimand.

“You want to please me, yeah? Then be a good girl and show me your tongue.” Jungkook growled lightly as your lips trembled before you did as you were told.

You stuck your tongue out a little as Jungkook grasped your hair once more rewarding, “Good girl,” He stroked your head, “Now open your mouth a little wider and let your spit drip on the head.”

Your entire face felt like it was on fire, grabbing the base of his cock as you leaned over it, sticking your tongue out a little further as Jungkook spoke, “Look at me.” You meekly glanced up at him as a wad of spit dripped off your tongue, pooling down onto his fat bulbous head as he moaned softly, eyes lidded at the sight.

“Fuck yeah, my pretty wife, now take the tip in your mouth, just the tip,” Jungkook ushered softly, watching in blind pleasure as you meekly leaned down, parting your lips a little further, you couldn’t help but hesitate for a moment.

It wasn’t that you were staring at his cock, it was more like…it was staring at you. His tip was incredibly fat and bulbous, you knew this, but now being at eye level, mouth to cock level, it made you realize just how big he was.

“Having second thoughts?” Jungkook teased, “Your little rat wasn’t as well equipped?”

Your eyes slowly looked up at him with a glare as he snickered, an affectionate look in his eyes, “Just the tip to start my goddess.”

Your lips parted around his tip before fully pushing it further into your mouth, your jaw immediately aching for a brief moment before you forced yourself to relax as you closed your eyes, sucking his tip gently as you waited for Jungkook’s next instruction.

Jungkook could feel the sweat breaking on the back of his neck as he moaned softly, “Fuck,” Something about watching you struggle just to take his tip had his hormones completely fucked up, “Drag your tongue over the slit.” He gritted his teeth, watching you pull off his cock before you looked up at him, dragging your tongue over his head as his lips twitched, hot arousal beginning to fill him more and more, “Now suck it further.”

Your lips pressed against his tip before you parted your lips once more, trying to relax your jaw as you took him back into your mouth, this time attempting to take him further. Keyword; attempt. It was admittedly a tight fit, not as impossible as you first assumed it would be, but not as roomy as it had once been with Seokjin.

You let out a muffled whine causing Jungkook to moan as he gripped your hair a little tighter before he pushed you a little further down onto his cock, a noise sounded from you but it suspiciously sounded like a moan and you hadn’t pulled off him yet.

Jungkook testingly yanked your hair a little, another whine thrumming on his cock as he began to force your head to bob along his cock, he moaned softly at the sight of your mouth stuffed with his cock, naked and tits bouncing, drool beginning to dribble down his shaft and to his balls.

“Good girl sweetheart.” Jungkook moaned a soft praise as he began to push you down further onto his cock, now nearly half his cock stuffed into your mouth before you suddenly gagged, his fat head hitting the back of your throat. You hadn’t pulled completely off his cock, just enough to regain yourself before you grabbed his thighs, taking his cock back where it was before.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair as he puffed a breath, “What a good little girl, taking my cock this obediently. Mmm you don’t have to take it down your throat if you’re not ready, I’m sure you haven’t- fuck!” He hissed through his teeth at the sudden feel of his fat head beginning to forcefully squeeze down that tight little throat of yours.

Your eyes were immediately blurring with tears and your jaw had a gripping ache in it and your throat was burning but you weren’t about to quit now as you took his cock further down your throat.

Jungkook was moaning louder this time running a hand through his hair and trying to not give into the animalistic urge to fuck your throat raw, instead his hand won the battle instead, yanking your hair roughly, causing a choked gurgled whine to escape you, it had his cock throbbing even harder.

You whimpered at your slow pace suddenly upheaved for a much rougher sloppier one as Jungkook forced your throat to take his cock exactly the way he wanted it, you were gagging now, tears dripping down your face as you moaned on his cock.

Swears begin to leave his lips left and right before he came you were suddenly pulled off his cock, a breath of air escaping you as you gasped out, your throat painfully stinging as you looked up at him in teary eyed confusion.

“Sit on my face.” It was ragged, grunted command

You coughed, rubbing your throat tenderly, “Pardon?”

“Want to suck on your clit while you finish me.”

You couldn’t even ask how that would work before Jungkook suddenly grabbed you, roughly manhandled you as you whined out, clit throbbing as he turned you around, “Jungkook…!”

“Going to suckle this pretty clit while you suck my cock,” He pulled your thighs closer as you dropped, hands catching the bed as you whined, now within distance of his cock, head weeping precum as it faced you.

Jungkook easily moved your thighs to either side of his face as you let out a shaky breath, you didn’t think such a lewd position could exist and yet Jungkook was surprising you with new things with each passing day.

You let out a sharp moan at his tongue suddenly pressing against your hole, tasting your arousal before sliding up your puffy slit, an even louder moan escaping you as his lips wrapped around your clit for a brief moment.

“Use your hand and your mouth,” Jungkook growled, the carnal need to cum all over your face and his patience was running thin, hand suddenly smacking your ass in prompt as you let out a loud noise.

“Mm fuck yeah, squeeze it hard,” Jungkook moaned at your hand squeezing his thick base nice and hard, lips wrapping around his tip as he began to suckle your clit once more, a lewd mixture of moans filled the air.

Jungkook’s hands rubbed down your thighs as before he harshly smacked your right ass cheek, hips jolting as he heard a gurgled whine, your hand forcefully pumping his base with a tight squeeze as you messily bobbed your head down on his cock.

It was difficult to focus when his tongue was swirling around your sensitive little bud, every little flick sending shocks of pleasure in your body as you whined around his cock, every little sensation of pleasure making you take him further in your mouth as you began to rock your hips against his tongue.

Jungkook allowed his tongue to still, letting your hips guide his tongue to slide through your little slit back to your clit as you moaned, your hand stroking him roughly became shorter once more as your mouth took more of him

Your voice vibrated along his shaft as you sucked against him harder, hand stroking past his base as you tenderly massaged his balls, making a grunt escape him, lips wrapping around your clit once more as you whined, Jungkook refuses to let up.

His hand suddenly smacking your left ass cheek this time, the delicious sting of pain making you moan as spit slowly trailed down his shaft, your hand becoming lubricated as it squeezed harshly against his base, pumping him roughly as if trying to milk his cock for every drop of seed.

Jungkook smacked your ass harder, the stinging pain persisting as his tongue messily swirled your clit before the palm of his hand found your ass once more and his hips lifted, his cock sliding in your mouth with a gurgle, just the feeling made him moan and before he could stop he couldn’t help himself.

Jungkook’s hips continued to thrust as he felt your mouth obediently still for him, letting him fuck your mouth, cock sliding along your warm tongue as his palm smacked your poor right asscheek, once, then twice, he could feel your gurgled moans on his cock as he continued to fuck it in your mouth before he hit a particularly sensitive spot on your ass making you squirm.

Jungkook tenderly stroked the spot as he moaned along your clit, hips lethargically thrusting as your grip on his base suddenly squeezed tighter making him grunt once more, he had surely found heaven. Even with a pounding headache still raging your sweet cunt took the edge off it.

He moaned softly feeling pleasure throbbing in waves as his cock slid along your tongue, your hand pumping his base before massaging his balls once more, he didn’t even bother to warn you, too lost in his own pleasure buried in your cunt, lapping up your clit as his eyes closed, revealing in his orgasm as he came in your mouth.

You let out an obscene moan as you took him further, sucking his cock harsh as his own moan mixed in the air, hands stroking your ass as you sucked every drop of cum from his cock until he was too sensitive as you pulled off him.

Jungkook however was still very much enjoying your cunt, lips lazily wrapping around your clit making you squeal once finally resting against his pubic bone as your clit throbbed, his tongue abusing your little bud as he moaned, lapping and suckling it as pleasure rapidly built in your body, far more than you were used to at once.

Jungkook’s grip on your thighs tightened at the feeling of you jolting, the pleasure almost too intense as you struggled, his stubborn grip not letting you go as his tongue flattened your bud moaning as you whined out, “Mmm! Koo…! Ah…!” Your body stiffened at the way his tongue slid quickly along your sensitive clit, flicking at its sensitive spot before an even higher pitched cry left you.

Your thighs almost spreading more as your hips sudden rutted into his tongue, Jungkook moaned hands grabbing your hips in encouragement as you rutted into him further, clit throbbing in so much pleasure before you came, and it felt so good, having his warm, soft tongue continue over your clit and keep going.

Everything was becoming sensitive, even painful, but you couldn’t ask him to stop when it felt so good, Jungkook’s hands were all over your ass, petting it and squeezing the flesh in his hands as his tongue tenderly pressed into your clit, gathering the overstimulated bud in his mouth.

Your thighs were beginning to tremble as breathy whimpers escaped your lips, unable to keep yourself propped anymore as you laid against his body, letting him support you as he tongue swirled the bud that was quickly building pleasure once more, your moans were unfiltered, unholy and loud, “Koo…! Mmm’ Koo…mmm like that…”

Jungkook suckled your clit a little harder before flattening his tongue over the bud once more, clit burning in pleasure as you whined sharply, his tongue kept lapping that little sweet spot before your back began to arch, propping yourself on your forearms, hips desperately rutting his face for relief.

Feeling his tongue messily push through your slit back to your clit each time was like madness as pleasure bloomed in waves, before it finally snapped, cumming all over his tongue as you whined.

Hips unable to stop rutting as his tongue stilled for you, letting you go as long as you wanted, giving you as much pleasure as you wanted, riding your orgasm out until you felt the next one already building.

“Mmm! Koo…yeah…oh…!” you whimpered softly, eyes shut as you felt his tongue pushing and flattening onto your clit with each rut of your hips.

Every little touch had you jolting a little, thighs burning but your body unable to stop at that delicious sting of hypersensitivity, your clit aching in pleasure with each slide of friction with his tongue.

Jungkook kept your hips still as his tongue swirled around your aching bud making you moan, mumbling incomprehensible words, pleasure aching in your body as he suckled the tender bud in his mouth once more.

Jungkook was particularly tender this time, slowly coaxing the orgasm from your body, tongue making no harsh motion or movement, only pressing softly into your sweet spot each time just a little harder.

Your body trembled as you let out a gurgled whine, pleasuring building as you felt his tongue swirl around your little hole, dragging arousal with his tongue as he lapped your clit, giving it a soft kiss before gathering the little bud into his mouth to suckle.

The gesture made your body fold, cumming from the sensation as you collapsed against him once more, eyes blurred from tears of pleasure at how good it felt, how good he made you feel.

Jungkook pressed one last kiss against your clit before he slowly peeled you off his face, his hands were gentle as he manhandled you, pulling you against his chest with a soft moan.

Kisses flustering along your collarbone as he murmured, “Mmm, my wife, mine,” his fingers squeezed against your skin, “My head is killing me.”

This caused a tired chuckle to escape your lips, curling against him as you tenderly pressed a kiss against his neck in reciprocation, “I know my love, maybe you should not drink as much tonight…?”

“I make no promises,” Jungkook murmured against your skin softly, fingers tracing the sides of your body, “Especially when you take pity on me like this.” he pressed another kiss against the side of your head, “Even moreso when you look so beautiful….” He slowly frowned, piercing eyes trailing your body as his hands feathered along your skin, “What did he want with you last night…?”

In turn you couldn’t help but frown at the memory, shifting in your husbands arms as you laid on your stomach, hand reaching out to brush the hair from his eyes, “Seokjin took me to his office to talk privately, it appears he…” You sighed, a worried look beginning to spread across your face.

“What?” Jungkook’s brows furrowed.

“While he assumed we were still a couple- there’s something else that worries me more…” You thought back to the previous night as you continued, “He mentioned having a plan…? Involving me coming here on my own and staying.”

Jungkook frowned, laying on his back as he stared at the ceiling in thought, “That could mean many things. Even if you had come here by yourself, staying would cause uneasy tension with Penumbra.”

“And what would that lead to…?” You asked, trying to figure out just what Seokjin had planned.

Jungkook shrugged, “Seems Kimhae was willing to go to war for you.”

“You would go to war for me?”

Jungkook’s lips quirked as he gazed at you, his eyes full of admiration as his fingers traced along your jawline, “If you were kept here against your will, if it meant bringing you back home.”

You couldn’t help but share a shy smile with him, closing your eyes at the feeling of his hand tracing along your back, “Still…it worries me, much tension has been detected surrounding Penumbra.”

“What would you propose we do about this then…?” Jungkook asked.

You chewed on your lip in thought, “Well, I already ruined any chance of Seokjin potentially giving me any information.”

Had you played your cards a little smarter you could’ve charmed Seokjin’s little plan right out of him, granted you were sure Jungkook would’ve rather fell on his own sword before witnessing such an event, so perhaps this was for the best anyways.

This made Jungkook snort, “Made a point did you?”

“Nothing less than a true Jeon would.” You replied, perhaps a little proud.

This made Jungkook smile, clearly enjoying the way you wore his surname, “Nothing less than I’d expect from my wife.”

“The only way we can know for sure if Kimhae has ill intentions is if we search Seokjin’s office.” You hummed out with a nod of certainty, “If there’s information anywhere on it, it would be there.”

“…You’re asking that we do something that would potentially land us in hot water with the royal court if we got caught…?” Jungkook hummed.

A mischievous smile tugged on your lips before you whispered out, “I’ll have you know I was very good at sneaking out.”

“Why am I not surprised?” He looked amused, “And when do you propose we do this? Since his office is definitely not highly guarded.”

“We’ll have to sneak away during the ball,” you answered easily, “Most of the guards and attention will be on the ballroom since so many royals and high aristocrats will be attending, should make the halls easy to navigate, and everyone will be making merry- even the staff, shouldn’t be too difficult to get to his office unnoticed.”

Jungkook raised his brows intrigued, “Hm…so you really are a troublemaker.”

“Are you surprised?”

“No.” Jungkook let a sly smile tug on his lips, “Our marriage would’ve been terribly boring if you weren’t.”

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