#thing for me as often as it is a dom thing

[myfictionaldreams]

Hiiiiii

Hope you are doing well🥺 ✨🦎

Sooo I thought about this one:

Natasha and Sam are helping the reader to defend herself with some weapons like a gun and a knife…

But Steve and Bucky don’t know this until she has to use those new skills…

Probably the hottest thing they have seen?

Their girl manhandling someone who hurts HER boys? Hell yeah

~ 🦎

⁀➷ Sweet & Armed // Mafia!Stucky x F!Reader

Summary: In a world of danger and dominance, she’s the soft center — until the day she proves she can bite just as hard as they bark.

Requested by: 🦎 -- Thank you for your request! I've also mixed this with your first request for the reader to do something nice for the boys. I hope you like it!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome, attempted kidnapping, violence, mild injury (bruised hand), protective stucky, domestic fluff, poly, dom/sub, double penetration, anal, praise kink, sir kink

Words: 4.5k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The morning was peacefully quiet in the Rogers-Barnes estate—calm in the way only highly protected, 24-hour security could buy. Somewhere out of sight, a small army of guards monitored every inch of the surroundings.

But inside the homely kitchen, nothing stirred except for the soft hum of an old Sinatra vinyl playing low in the background, and the occasional bark from Dodger as he chased shadows across the polished floors.

You were barefoot, wearing only one of Steve’s soft white Henleys that dragged below your thighs, and a smile that only deepened each time the smell of cinnamon and warm sugar drifted from the oven. A few days ago, the recipe book you found had been shoved behind a row of aged Scotch bottles. The corners of the pages curving with age, handwritten notes smothering the recipes, add to the original recipes.

You’d found the jackpot with these books—the margins were filled with directions from Sarah Rogers and Winifred Barnes.

A surprise you were jumping on the spot to tell.

The dough under your fingers was sticky as you prepared another batch of treats. One tray was baking, and the other was already cooling. The boys would be up soon from the creaking of slow steps on the floor above your head.

As you were licking cinnamon sugar off your fingers, you turned, only to jump slightly as a low voice drawled from the doorway.

“Well, ain’t this a damn sight, Sweet Mama.”

Bucky Barnes stood shirtless in grey joggers, his hair a smidge longer than his usual buzz cut, facial hair freshly trimmed. He leaned against the doorframe, blinking sleepily, and still somehow looked like a sin.

You gave him a sheepish smile, hand on your chest, “You scared me.”

His blue eyes dragged down your legs, over the flour dusting your thighs. “My bad, doll. Didn’t realise angels made breakfast too.”

Before you could roll your eyes, he was behind you, wrapping both arms securely around your waist, his flesh hand warm and his vibranium one cool against your stomach. He nuzzled into your neck with a pleased groan.

“You cooking rugelach? My mom used to make this exact recipe. Damn near forot the smell.”

“I found an old book, I think it was hers.”

Bucky went still.

“You did?”

You nodded, wiping your hands on a towel and pulling it from the counter to show him. He stared down at the page and fading writing, then looked back at you with an emotion that didn’t often cross his handsome face.

“This…” he cleared his throat. “This means a lot, sweetheart. More than you know.”

Before you could reply, Dodger trotted into the kitchen, his wet nose nudging against Bucky’s leg, begging for scratches. “Good morning to you, too, Dodge. Have you been helping Mama bake?”

Just then, Steve’s heavy footsteps echoed from the stairs. Moments later, he was filling the doorway. “Something smells good.”

Bucky steps aside as Steve enters, tall, golden, and freshly showered. He pauses mid-stride, eyes landing on you standing barefoot surrounded by pastries, and his entire expression softens.

“Jesus, are you trying to kill us?”

You blinked. “What?”

He crossed the room, cupping your face in his warm palms, thumb brushing your cheekbone. “You. Looking like this. Making my ma’s cookies.” Steve turned briefly to Bucky. “You see this? This is wife behaviour.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Bucky smirks, stepping closer until you’re sandwiched between their bodies. Sighing into their hold, you spend a moment just breathing them in, thankful for moments like this where even simple actions could have so much appreciation from your boyfriends.

“Are we still on for that picnic later? I thought I could bring some of these treats along.”

Bucky’s the first to move away from the hug, moving over to the sink to fill a glass with water. “Yeah, Sam and Nat will be here around noon to load the car.”

“Dibs, I’m taking the bike”, Steve adds.

“Like hell, I own the bike, Steve,” Bucky snaps back, nearly choking on his water.

“Yeah? I ride it better.”

Dodger barked once, as if to cast his vote.

The argument might’ve gone on forever, if not for the moment you walked past them hours later, your sundress fluttering just enough to reveal the curve of your thighs as you bent to pick up your bag. You didn’t mean to do it. But you felt their eyes snap to you like magnets.

Steve’s voice dropped. “Forget the bike.”

“Yep, forget the bike, I’m riding with her.”

Bucky practically tackled Steve out of the way to the car to hold the door open for you, a move that had the blonde rolling his eyes and swearing under his breath for not thinking of it first. This was all after 10 minutes of arguing who would sit next to you, just to decide that there was plenty of room in the back seats for them to be on either side of you.

So there you were, with warm sunlight beaming through the tinted windows, the hum of the radio lowly playing in the background, and the subtle crackle of a secured radio line in the front seat where Natasha and Sam kept one ear tuned into security updates.

Steve and Bucky’s shoulders and thighs pressed firmly against yours, each had a hand resting possessively on your bare thigh, having pushed the flimsy material up slightly to be skin to skin.

“You smell like cinnamon. Are you sure you want to go outside today? I kind of want you all to myself. I don’t know how Buck’s feeling.”

Bucky's hand gently squeezes your thigh, smirking, “I’m trying to be a team player, Wilson’s been begging like a little princess for this for months.”

Sam, who was driving you all, calmly lifted his little finger towards his boss and best friend, causing a laugh from all three of you.

“You’re all ridiculous,” you say softly, leaning your head against Steve’s shoulder.

“Insanely in love with you. Not the same thing,” Steve corrects, kissing your temple for a couple of long seconds.

The car bumped gently as they pulled off the main road into a hidden field surrounded by tall forest and protected by surveillance drones overhead. You knew the place well. It was one of the few safe zones that hadn’t been compromised, a place where they could let their guards down just enough to breathe.

Blankets were spread across the trimmed grass, and the warm scent of late spring was in the air. Sam unpacked the drinks while Natasha laid out sandwiches and extra ammo clips with equal ease.

“Sometimes I forget how equipped you are. Where do you even hide these things?” you ask, nodding to the assortment of weapons.

Natasha smirks, flipping her red hair over one shoulder, “You say that like I didn’t grow up doing tactical training in sunflower fields.

Sam hands you a bottle of lemonade. “Enjoy the moment, boss lady. Days like this don’t come often.”

You nod thoughtfully.

For a while, everything is right. Bucy sat behind you with his arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders, tracing slow circles on your stomach as Steve fed Dodger bits of jerky and talked shit to Sam about his choice in baseball teams. Natasha laughed in a way you rarely heard, leaning in occasionally to give teasing digs to all the boys, but never you, she was always a girl's girl.

You were about to reach for another cookie when a football thudded into the blanket near your hand. Steve grins, “C’mon, baby. You ever tossed one of these?”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’ve seen you throw people.”

“Sam motion,” Steve shrugs, stretching. “Less screaming.”

You stand, wiping crumbs off your dress. “Okay. But if you make me run, you can walk home.”

That earned a while from Sam. “Boss lady’s got jokes now, huh?”

You return Sam’s earlier gesture with a middle finger, laughing whilst walking across the field. Each person had an exaggerated stance. Bucky was cocky, steve overly technical, and sam too smooth for his good. Natasha opted to watch from the blanket with her shades on, though you knew she wasn’t really relaxing; her eyes never stopped scanning the treeline.

Everything was perfect, until Bucky started with a ridiculous overhead throw, the ball whizzing past your head and landing a significant distance away in the field.

“Sorry, Doll!” but from his shit eating grin you knew he wasn’t that sorry.

With a deep sigh, you walked to the ball and, with more energy than necessary, threw the ball to Sam, which only landed halfway because everyone was so far away now.

Eventually, it was back to Bucky, who grinned and threw the ball past where you were standing, past even the field and into the edge of the forest.

Turning with a huff at your boyfriend's antics of showing off his physical skills, you disappear between the trees. Sunlight breaks into thin beams as the sounds of laughter fade behind you. The ball wasn’t too far away, easily spotted, and tangled in a bed of wildflowers and fallen branches.

You reached for it. And froze. The hairs on your neck lifted a second before instinct kicked in.

A presence behind you- too close, too quiet. Your fingers curled around the ball, but you didn’t turn just yet. Instead, you took a steadying breath, tucking it to your chest and walking quickly back toward the clearing.

And that’s when the air changed. Just as your foot broke the tree line, the sun's heat smoothing your face, you just knew.

There was someone behind you. Before you could fully react, an arm hooked toward your waist. You dropped the football and twisted hard, driven more by instinct than thought.

From the field, everything happened at once.

Steve;s gun was drawn, cock. “Drop her-NOW!”

Bucky was already moving, low and fast across the field, but you’d somehow managed to be so far away from the others with the little ball throwing that it would still take him more time than necessary to get to your side.

And what’s worse is that you were directly in front of the attacker, and there was no clean shot.

“Don’t move!” Natasha barked, her voice sharp, her gun drawn and pointed. “Sugar, pivot! Use your elbow! Disarm!”

The man’s grip tightened, but your training kicked in, Natasha’s orders reminding your shocked body to move. You ducked low, slamming your heel into his shin, and drove your elbow back into his ribs. As he flinched, you spun, knocking the gun from his hand, and delivered a clean, closed-fist punch to his jaw, just like Sam and Nat had drilled into you.

Pain burst through your knuckles, but you followed through. The man dropped, stunned, his nose gushing with blood, eyes dazed.

Your chest heaved as you staggered back, knuckles throbbing.

The unknown man groaned on the ground at your feet.

Natasha let out a low whistle from across the field. “Hell of a takedown!”

Bucky is suddenly there, hands cradling your injured hand whilst easily able to kick out his leg, booting the man straight in the head, knocking him unconscious. “You okay? Talk to me, Doll.”

You nodded, heart still racing.” I’m fine. I-he grabbed me, but I just moved, I don’t know what just happened.” You say a little out of it, the adrenaline thumping through your veins.

“You moved like someone trained by a fucking assassin.” Steve’s now at your side, checking the rest of your body, sounding both impressed and furious as he makes sure also to kick the man in the ribs, earning a wheeze. “You tell us everything, right fucking now.”

Sam and Nat appear on either side of you. “She’s been training with Nat and me for six months.”

Steve’s head whips around. “What?!”

“She asked. We said yes. Don’t act shocked, it’s saved her life, hasn’t it?”

“Holy shit,” bucky said, breathing hard as he stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time. “You- goddamn, hot mama.”

Steve lifts your hand, inspecting the angry swelling along your knuckle, checking each finger for movement. “You’re still hurt.”

“It’s just a bruise,” you try to justify, a little nervous that they’d found out about your training. It wasn’t like you were doing it for any specific reason other than safety. I hoped it wouldn’t get to a point where you’d have to use it, but with the type of jobs your boyfriends had, it was better to be safe than sorry.

“You punched someone, I mean, actually punched someone with those soft little hands-”, Bucky murmurs affectionately.

“And she won,” Natasha added, amused. “Flawless technique. You should see her with a blade.”

Steve looked like he needed to sit down. Or bend you over a table.

Instead, he kissed your throbbing palm reverently. “We’re gonna fix this. And then we’re gonna talk. And then…”

The blueness of his eyes darkened with the lowering of his eyelids, but it was Bucky who finished his sentence for him: “...we’re going to show you exactly how proud we are.”

The ride back was quiet. It was not cold but heavy, like the air was thick with unsaid things. You remained sitting between Steve and Bucky, your bruised hand resting on your lap, bandaged lightly from the first aid kit.

The clean-up team arrived just before you’d all left. The man was presumably taken back to the office and held there until Steve and Bucky began questioning him until they were satisfied with his answers.

Bucky hadn’t let go of your other hand. Steve’s fist was so tightly holding onto the door handle that you’re actually worried about it snapping off.

You’d been the one attacked, the one who fought back, but they were the ones unravelling.

No radio was playing, just the road humming beneath the tires, and the sound of Steve exhaling too often through his nose.

Glancing at Bucky, staring contemplatively out of the window, you nudge your shoulder against his to get his attention. “I’m really okay. It’s just a bruise.”

He didn’t answer at first, then quietly, “You shouldn’t have to be.”

Something low in your stomach tugs.

“I should have seen him,” Steve demands. I shouldn’t—Jesus, I'm trained to notice shadows moving wrong, and I let you walk into the woods alone.”

“Steve-”

He shook his head, jaw flexing, the door handle groaning as his grip tightened. “I swore to protect you, that's all I ever wanted. I dont give a damn about the name, or the territory, or the money. Just you and Bucky.”

“You do protect me. Both of you do, all the time,” you say softly, trying to sound reassuring.

His eyes darted to your injury, “You had to protect yourself.”

“I'm glad I could.”

Bucky interrupts as his fingers graze your chin, turning your face towards his, “That's not the point, Doll.”

You reach out, cupping Bucky’s jaw with your uninjured hand. “I love that you want to keep me safe. I love it so much, but it scares me sometimes. But I can't sit in a tower and wait to be reduced every time.”

The car rolls to a stop directly outside your home. Bucky opens your door, helping you out, his hand gentle on the small of your back. Inside, it is quiet. Even Dodger is tamer than usual, seemingly sensing the tension. Natasha and Sam have stayed behind to brief the others, leaving just the three of you—well, four, including Dodger.

Steve had his hands on his hips, staring down at the kitchen table where you’d once baked. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

Bucky moved towards the kitchen cupboard, returning with another first aid kit.

“Sit, baby. Let us clean you up properly.”

You perched on the edge of the counter as Bucky gently unwrapped the makeshift bandage, revealing the swollen skin of your knuckles. Steve hovered beside him, unable to stop touching you from your shoulder, your thigh, and the back of your neck. He needed to reassure himself that you were here, breathing and warm.

Bucky applied a cold compress, so delicately you barely felt it, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “Was it Sam who taught you that follow-through technique?”

You nod, “Nat taught me how to use a knife, but I just didn’t have one today.”

It was meant to be a joke, but Steve’s hand curled tighter on your waist. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“But you didn’t freeze. You didn’t falter. You fought.” Bucky meets your eyes, his voice low and full of emotion.

You nod slowly, staring down at your hands. “I just knew what to do.”

Bucky kisses the inside of your wrist. That part of you? That fire? It's ours too. Don’t ever be ashamed of it.”

Steve took your face in both hands, brushing his thumbs under your eyes. “We were wrong. You’re not fragile, you’re so fucking strong, baby girl. But you shouldn’t have to be.”

Your voice cracked, and your eyes tingled with fresh tears. " I don't want to be strong all the time. I just don't want to be helpless either.”

“You’re not. You never were,” Bucky reassures, his hands now resting against the outside of your thighs.

Steve’s forehead carefully rests against yours. “Let us take care of you now. Let us make it right.”

Your lips parted. You could feel the tension changing, twisting into something deeper, darker. Something ravenous and entirely earned.

You swallowed, breath shallow. “Please.”

They didn’t need another word.

Steve kissed you first. Right there in the kitchen, with your bruised hand still bandaged and Bucky pressing cold packs against the bruising. Steve dipped his head and took your mouth like it belonged to him, which, truthfully, it always had.

It was tender at first, filled with warmth and able to speak every emotion running through the man's head. But his control snapped when your other hand curled into his shirt, and a whine slipped from your lips.

“You just have no idea what you do to us,” he muttered, sliding his mouth down your neck, tasting your skin. “Seeing you like that, owning that bastard. God, baby. You don't even know.”

Bucky's fingers brushed your sensitive inner thigh as he stepped between your legs. His voiceis  more guttural. “You don’t get it, do you? You flipped that switch, sweetheart. We’re fucking gone for you now.”

You were dizzy with the way they looked at you, as if you were something they worshipped.

“Bedroom. Now,” Steve demands with a gruffness to his voice, eyes stormy with hunger.

Bucky effortlessly swings your body into his arms without hesitation, and you squeak in surprise, gripping his broad shoulders. Your response has Dodger barking in the background. “I can walk, you know!”

“Too slow,” Bucky grins, kissing your cheek. “You took down a grown man with a gun, but this is our domain, doll.”

They laid you on the bed like something sacred. The curtains were drawn, and the dim evening light cast golden halos around them both. Steve stripped first, pulling his shirt off over his head, then Bucky followed. Their muscles flexed under old scars, symbols of the life they’d led, the war they'd found and the kingdom they ruled.

“Allow me”, Bucky smirked, reaching for your dress and ripping it down the middle, leaving you in just your bra and panties. “Been wanting to do that all day.”

“Hey, I liked that dress!”

“Yeah? I’ll buy you 20 more. Now, I want to make you feel so good that you forget you ever had to use that hand for anything other than holding on to us.”

You shiver, nipples hardening beneath the material of your bra.

“Colour?” Steve asks softly, removing the last item of clothing on his body—his boxers.

Whilst staring at his hard, throbbing cock that pointed in your direction you responded, “green. So fucking green.”

Steve grins, kneeling on the edge of the bed. “Good girl.”

That praise shot straight through you, warmth flooding between your thighs. Bucky joined him, his metal hand cool against your stomach as he slid it lower, spreading your legs apart.

“So wet for us already, doll. I can see that wet patch through your panties. Just from hearing we’re proud of you?” he questions, gently teasing your inner thighs as your hips move towards him.

You whimper, “always wanna be good for you.”

“You are,” Steve breathed, kissing down your chest, his facial hair rough against your sternum as he squeezes your breast through your bra. “You’re our good girl. Always. “

With a simplicity that was to show off his strength, Steve tore through the centre of your bra, your breasts slipping free, your underwear following the same response until you’re naked beneath them.

Steve covers your chest, his thumb and finger rolling one nipple whilst his tongue flattens against the other. With his big, bulky body covering your torso, you’re unable to keep an eye on Bucky, but you can feel him, especially the way his body now squeezes down between your thighs, legs resting over his shoulders.

You felt buckys tongue first, slow, flat licks up your slit, savouring you like a reward. His fingers held your hips down as you squirmed, moaning softly as your fingers grip Steve’s biceps, just for something to hold onto.

Bucky’s moan is your underdoing, just the raw, grunt of the tone, and the vibrations adding just enough pressure against your clit as his mouth circled it. He was moaning like you were the weetest thing he’d ever tasted. “She’s dripping, Steve. Every moan and word, she's squeezing around nothing. Our girl here tastes so fucking good.”

“Hmm, how about we wreck her, Bucky?” Steve's voice is ragged as he watches your body tremble and react to the man between your legs. “I want to see her fall apart, just for us.”

Hearing them talk about you like this, whilst you’re pressed down into the mattress, taking the pleasure is enough to have your eyes rolling back, your pussy tightening before wave after wave of your orgasm pulses deep in your core.

“That’s it, baby girl, you’re doing so well for Bucky, coming all over his face like that. You look so beautiful letting go,” Steve encouraged, his fingers continuing to tweak your nipple, only adding to the heightened stimulation of Bucky’s tongue.

“Sir-oh my god, sir!” you cry out, body trying to arch into the touches but unable to with their hulking forms holding you down.

“Say it again,” Steve’s eyes flare, widening as he licks his lips.

“Sir!”

“Fuck, Doll,” Bucky chants, groaning as he sucks on your clit hard, coaxing another whimper from you.

“Come here.”

You’re not even in control of your body anymore with the after orgasm glow, but thankfully, Steve is moving you for you. With ease, he’s turning you over as he slips underneath your body, so you’re now straddling his waist. Your thighs are shaking, trying to hold up your weight, so you slump chest to chest against Steve, leaning into his warmth as his hands soothingly stroke up your spine.

“Colour?”

“Green”, you say without hesitation.

“What do you say now, baby? You want both of us? Want to be filled front and back?”

Your whimper is pathetic as you nod repeatedly, shifting your hips back until the tip of his cock is captured between your bodies as you grind down against it.

Cool metallic fingers press into your arse cheeks, massaging the muscles as you continue to rub yourself against Steve. “Gotta go slow, yeah?” Bucky’s voice drifts from behind you as he kneels further down the bed between Steve’s legs. “Gotta stretch you open first, make sure you are nice and ready for us, Doll.”

You hear Bucky reaching into the bedside drawer, followed quickly by cold lube squirted onto your tight hole. Slicking up his fingers, he starts with one, working it up to the knuckle before pulling out. Each time he slowly enters, you can feel your arse trying to relax before tightening as another wave of arousal bursts through you.

“Please, sir, I can take it! I need you inside me,” you beg, kissing over Steve’s pecs.

“Just wait, baby. I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky encouraged you, adding another finger as you’re grinding down onto him.

A third finger is inside you, and you’re reaching back to Bucky, trying to pull him closer.

Thankfully, he does as he eases his fingers out of you. “Shh, you’ve got to take Steve first, okay?”

“Yes, sir”.

Bucky reaches between your bodies, gripping Steve’s cock and manouvers hislength until you’re able to slide back onto it. Your cries of pleasure are nearly drowned out by Steve’s as his hands hold onto your hips, controlling your movements, keeping you still as his dick throbs inside your cunt.

Then Bucky is there, laterhing his cock in more lube and pressing his hips against yours. Slowly and deeply, he inches himself in. The stretch is perfect; you can feel it everywhere. So much, but never too much.

“Doing so good, baby girl. So perfect taking both of us. Breathe. You can take it. You were meant to take us,” Steve’s voice is gentle but authoritative, keeping you calm as you didn’t realise you’d been holding your breath.

Their movements were so fucking slow, perfectly slow to begin with, letting your body adjust to being full. Then you’re taking over, rolling your hips, their cocks inching in and out.

“Fuck, this tight little hole feels so good, always so good for us. You’re milking us both,” Bucky gasps, his fingers flexing on your hips where his fingers are linked with Steve’s.

Your mouth is hanging open, a constant string of explicits and cries as all you can do and want to do is lie there and take their cocks, being as close to them as you can get.

“That’s it, I can feel you squeezing us, Doll. Come for us,” Steve encouraged, rocking his hips into you with firmer strokes.

The orgasm hit like lightning, a burning tingle starting between your legs and spreading through your limbs. It doesn’t slow down either. The pulsing of your cunt goes on and on as Steve and Bucky just keep on fucking you.

“Please-” you whisper into Steve’s chest, body limp and beautifully sated.

“You want our come, baby?” Steve asks, already knowing the answer as he grunts with another thrust of his hips up into you.

“Yes, sir. Please!”

“Good girl, take it all,” Bucky shouts, his hips speeding up until he’s as deep as he can go, pausing and trembling, heat seeping into your insides as he cums. Steve, holding tightly to your waist, thrusts and thrusts until he, too, holds still.

They held you there, bodies pressed tight to yours, still buried deep but with their come mixing with your juices.

And then they were gentle again. Bucky cleaned between your thighs with a warm towel, drying the area afterwards to ensure you weren’t too sore.

Kissing your bruised knuckles, Steve makes sure you’re mentally well, that you aren’t feeling too spaced out, but you’re perfectly present and happy.

“We’ve got you now.”

“You’re ours, baby.”

[lacemadesoldier]

bucky and the bunny | bucky barnes smut

you’re the youngest avenger. a bratty girly girl with an obsession for pink and shopping. and bucky likes to tease you for it.

warnings ; smut minors dni, reader is afab, age gap, dom!bucky, degrading and praise p in v, oral (both receiving), bucky is called sir, slight enemies to lovers,

“thank you!” you smile all white teeth and pink gloss at the cab driver as he hands over your bags and you spin to make your way to the tower. you notice bucky approaching and wish in that moment it was anybody else.

you and bucky weren’t enemies but you weren’t friends either. you initially blamed it on the man’s reserved personality assuming he was quiet with everyone. the most he’d ever said to you were fleeting comments but he did often enjoy teasing you for your girly interests and you’d had a really nice day shopping with some old friends and you could really do without his criticism of your spending ruining it.

“what the hell is all this?” he asks as he sees you approaching the door to the tower and you shrug, hands filled with various shopping bags.

“stuff.” you say it like its obvious and his brows knit together before he scoffs, reaching for the door and allowing you to enter whilst he trails behind you.

his eyes follow your frame, curled hair teased up with a pink clip in the back. tiny baby pink dress that he was sure wouldn’t be legal back in his day and a white cardigan over top. not to mention the smell of your perfume that followed you and drifted right into his nostrils.

“what stuff?” his metal finger presses the elevator button and you roll your eyes, settling the bags at your heeled feet.

“clothes..makeup just stuff.” you follow it with a shrug again and he wants to keep pressing but instead grabs the bags for you and you follow him into the elevator. “thank you.”

as you hit the button he notices your short french nails and snorts. “you get told off for the claws?” his head nods in the direction. your eyes roll again and he finds amusement in it.

“how’d you know?” there’s a pout lingering on your lips at the idea everyone was talking about you behind your back. especially for something like that. you already felt way out of place-your pink clothes, curled hair and makeup applied to perfection before training sessions in a morning.

youd always loved the stereotypical girly things and you knew it wasn’t exactly the norm for an avenger but at the end of the day you were a girl in her early 20s and you were willing to help save the day when needed but you weren’t going to lose your own interests for it.

“yelena said you stole some of her skin with one during a spar last week.” his explanation does nothing to soothe your worry and a frown takes over your face as the doors close and you begin ascending.

“it was a total accident! was everyone mad at me?” your defence is sweet and he almost feels bad for mentioning it. he knew you were sensitive. which was surprising for how angry you could get sometimes. your reminded him of a bunny, huffing from your twitching nose and stamping your feet when you’re mad.

“no i noticed her hello kitty bandaid and asked about it.” it’s his turn to shrug and you nod, your hands clenching together awkwardly as you examine all the bags in his hands.

“i probably bought too much.” you murmur and his face twitches into a confused one.

“i saw you come in last week with double this.”

“yeah, exactly.” your eyes roll again and he tuts.

“you know doll, the shopping isn’t the problem.” he tells you and your eyes flit to him. “it’s your attitude.”

“excuse me?” the elevator dings and he walks out, you following close behind. he can almost imagine your angry expression as he listens to the bracelets on your wrist jingle as you storm after him.

“do you want these in your bedroom or your dressing room?” completely ignoring you as you stop, hands crossing over your chest. “hm?”

he barely looks over his shoulder at you and youre tempted to stomp your foot and demand he explains what he means by ‘attitude’ but the irony isn’t lost on you so you storm over and take your bags from him.

“i think i can take them from here, thank you.” he chuckles at your emphasis on the last two words but you ignore it and disappear with the clacks of your heels into your dressing room with a mental huff.

—

after a few hours you emerge from your bedroom and make your way to the kitchen. bucky is already there nursing a glass of something.

“ah the princess is away from her tower.” he smiles at you from behind the breakfast bar and you hold back the urge to roll your eyes, taking a seat at it.

“sorry i like to have alone time.” you defend in a murmured whisper and before he can respond you’re asking “where is everyone?”

“out.” he runs a hand through his hair and you stare at him. he’s wearing his usual ‘off duty’ uniform of jeans and a black shirt that tugs at his biceps every time he moves them. you quickly look away and admire the view from the large window. it’s already dark. “are you here to make a tea?”

“uh yes.” you mutter out confused. sure it was routine for you to have one around this time but you didn’t know everyone knew about it. he spins on his heels grabbing the bag and dropping it into your rose patterned tea cup.

you watched his movements as he began boiling water before sipping from his own glass and looking over at you. “what?”

“do you think i’m weird?” you blurt out and he stares back at you confused. “i mean-like do you think i don’t fit in here?”your arms gesture around you and he chuckles.

“i think your pink sticks out like a sore thumb but everyone here really likes you.”

“is that why you don’t like me? you wish i wasn’t so pink?” your voice doesn’t sound sad as you ask him, genuinely curious and eyebrows furrowed together.

“what?” his eyes stare directly at you and you fight the urge to look away. you don’t want to back down from him. “i mean i don’t not like you?”

“cmon bucky.” you sigh and he keeps his gaze on you. “you’ve been weird with me since the day we met. im not even mad im just curious.”

your explanation causes his mind to whirl. was he weird with you? he knew he wasn’t exactly inviting you to be his best friend but he wasn’t to anybody else either. and you were over 100 years younger than him. and way too hot for your own good. or his own.

the minute he saw you he knew it’d be a slippery slope for him. your wide smile as you told him your name after he’d untied you and everyone had explained everything about ‘bob’ to him. there you were trying to to befriend him whilst the group was making up a plan. too sweet and too welcoming. he needed to keep to himself when it came to you.

“you don’t think it’d be weird if i tried to be your friend?” he asks and you suddenly feel under pressure, his gaze feeling heavy over you.

“no, we’re a team now.” you explain and he nods. “everyone else is fine with me. it’s just you with the problem.”

he rounds the breakfast bar and makes his way over to you. “i don’t have a problem doll.”

“you said my attitude was a problem.” you defend back and he laughs lowly.

“that’s your problem, not mine.” his voice is barely above a whisper and you feel your face heat up, trapped between him and the counter as you stand up.

“whatever bucky.” you murmur and he runs a hand along his jaw.

“you know when i was younger -“

“500 years ago?” you look up at him expectantly and he breathes a laugh in return.

“close.” you eye him for him to continue. “girls like you didn’t even exist.”

“what do you mean?” your eyes stare up at him and he smirks. his fingers find the hem of your way too short skirt and skim your upper thigh as he snorts a laugh at your shocked expression, dropping his hand back to his side.

“clothes were different.” he shrugs and you look down at your outfit.

“yeah it was illegal to show ankle back then, right?” you fire back and he smiles down at you.

“there’s that attitude again, bunny.” it sounds like a warning and you almost don’t register the new name he’s got for you.

“bunny?”

“hm?” he raises an eyebrow and look back at him questioning. “fits, don’t you think?”

“you’re being annoying.” you tell him, standing up to round him and finish your tea.

“i thought you wanted to be my friend?” he asks amusedly as he watches you.

“i don’t hear you calling anyone else bunny.” you stop spinning around to face him as he stands opposite you.

“no one else quite fits it like you.” he stands up from his seat at the same time the elevator dings and everyone walks in and steals your attention. you give him another look as he makes his way out of the room and he looks back, sending a wink your way and leaving you utterly confused.

—

the next morning as you got ready for training you couldn’t get your conversation with bucky out of your mind. or just bucky in general. something about him finally saying more than 5 words a day to you really introduced something you weren’t ready for. you wanted bucky barnes to bend you over your dresser and make fun of you for your stupid pink clothes and shopping habit. which was absolutely crazy and you needed to put that to rest.

you planned to speak to him before training started and arrived 10 minutes early,dressed in your pink sweats with a matching jacket. you made your way straight over to bucky who was leaning on the wall outside of the gym but as his eyes lifted and he saw you you felt another person approaching.

“you’re ditching me for bucky?” yelena asks and before you can disagree he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“she wanted someone who could actually challenge her.” he tells her and you wave him off. you go to open your mouth but he begins his way into the room. “cmon don’t wanna be late.” you huff and follow him inside muttering an apology to yelena.

“what the heck?” you ask bucky as the door clicks behind you and he pulls the hoodie from his body exposing the black compression shirt that lifted a little exposing a slither of his lower abs. god.

“what? you came over to me.” he brushes you off. “ready?”

“i just wanted to ask you something. i like pairing with yelena because she lets us talk and go slow-!” you’re cut off with a jab thrown to you that you just barely miss. “bucky!”

“what? i’m not yelena and you’re not gonna learn to defend yourself whilst gossiping about shoes and boys.”

“i don’t think she’s interested in my shoes and we don’t talk about boys.” you throw a jab at him as he sighs but he’s quick to grab onto your wrist with his mechanic hand cool on your skin.

he smirks at the your reaction. “well bunny, whatever she does is clearly not good enough.” your free hand punches against his stomach and you expect him to react but of course he takes it like it was nothing. still holding onto your hand he drags you closer. “try harder.” his breath is hot against your ear as he all but whispers the words. heat rises up your spine and you push him away from you without a second thought.

“did i bring my water in here?” you ask and he stares at you dumbfounded. his hands move to his hips and he looks around before shaking his head but you don’t hear anything he says because you’re too busy gawking at his broad chest and bulging biceps in his signature black shirts that you decide he must be purposely buying in a size too small to accentuate his muscles.

“hello?” his face is taken over by that smirk again and you wanna punch it off him as you realise he’d caught you staring at him. “you wanna keep staring or shall i teach you a few things?” you avoid the innuendo and mentally scald yourself.

“ya right old man. what are you teaching me?” he eyes you down, before shrugging.

“how about we start with manners?” he asks and before you reply you’ve kicked his legs from under him sending flat on his back on the mat. “or not.”

“are you impressed? i mean you should’ve seen it coming really but you didn-“ he grabbed a hold of your ankle using it to pull you down over him, straddling his chest.

you stare down at him, his hand holding your ankle by his head as you’re way too close to comfort to the man who before last night the most you’d ever spoken to one another was just polite small talk and here you were feeling your thighs want to close around his face as he smiled up at you triumphantly. “oh my god bucky!”

“what?” he laughs as you climb off of him, walking to the other end of the room. “what’s wrong now bunny?”

“i’m done for the day.” you sigh out and he shakes his head.

“no you’re not!” he jogs over to you, hand holding the door shut as you try to open it. “you have to do 45 minutes at least and you’re barely at 10!”

“you’ll have to fail me sir.” you push him aside and storm off. you weren’t exactly sure why you just overreacted like that.

you felt overwhelmed with bucky suddenly. like everything he did left you feeling dumbfounded and unable to say what you wanted to. which you weren’t even sure of anyways but you knew it went along the lines of leave me alone. or so you told yourself. that and apologise for being so weird last night.

-

a shower, some rollers and a music filled makeup and outfit session later you were applying your perfume when there was a knock at your dressing room door. you were sure everyone was out but apparently not.

“come in?” you placed the glass bottle down on your vanity and watched through the mirror as the man in black slowly walked into your very pink room. “try not to grimace.”

“i’ve never been in here before.” he admits as he shuts the door behind him and stands awkwardly by it. his eyes scan the fairy lights and racks of clothes, shelves of bags and shoes.” it’s very you.”

“i designed it myself.” you explain and spin around to look at him. now he was getting a good look at you, the new room long forgotten. you were wearing a pleated pink mini skirt and a lacy white top. your feet were bare with a gold initial anklet dangling and your french toes on full display which he oddly found himself enamoured with.

“did i upset you earlier?” he blurted out. not the way he planned but not as bad as it could have been either.

“no.” you shrugged and he continued to stare at you, waiting for more but it never came.

“you seemed annoyed.” he attempts to explain further but you just shrug again causing him to tut. “usually when you’re having a conversation you do more than shrug your shoulders.”

“usually when you’re an old man you keep your distance from the young girls in your work instead of barging into their dressing rooms.” you’re half teasing half serious. every minute you spend alone with him makes you want to pounce on him.

“hey i knocked and you told me to come in! and i was only coming to checking on you after you were weird this morning.”his voice is defensive and it makes you giggle and roll your eyes.

you spin around and make your way over to your shoes holding up a pair of pink sandals in one hand and white sling backs in the other. “which pair with this outfit?” you ask him and gesture down at yourself. he eyes you up and down then his eyes look between the two before focusing back on your bare feet for a second too long.

“where are you going?” he walks closer into you room, closer to you. sure it was another ‘off’ day for you but it didn’t mean you could just go out and about. you hadn’t even finished your training for the day yet.

“mind your business old man.” you shoo him as you make your way by him to check both shoes against your outfit in the full length mirror that his broad frame was blocking.

“manners.” his voice is warning and you feel that familiar hear between your thighs as your eyes look above you to meet his own in the mirror. “you’ve still got your training workout to complete from this morning.”

“i’m not doing it it’s my day off.” your voice is challenging as you continue your the contact with him. “i told you-fail me sir.”

at that he takes ahold of your arm, spinning you around and pulling you harshly against his hard body. “what’re you doin-“

“shut up.” he grits out. “such a fucking brat you know it’s your life you’re messing around with? up here playing fucking dress up when your life is at risk every mission?”

“i’m good at what i do buck-“

“yeah i’ve seen you out there, you are. but you’ve got an attitude problem, bunny.” his eyes bore into your eyes and your arm starts to ache from how hard he’s holding it but your thighs are involuntarily rubbing together as you listen to him scald you. and he clearly notices. “are you even listening or is that little brain of yours too occupied?”

you stare up at him with doe eyes as you speak. “sorry sir.” like butter wouldn’t fucking melt.

he breathes a laugh through his nose at that. “finally some manners. huh. bun?” he lets go of your arm. letting you completely free from him bar the hand you’ve got fisted in his t shirt. you continued to stare up at him, clearly dumbfounded from just a little gentle guiding and his mind wanders to how he could get you to act with some real words of enforcement. but he knows he shouldn’t be thinking that and he quickly snaps out of, taking a step back.

“make sure you get your training done. yelena will do double with you tomorrow.” he explains before he turns to leave.

“i want you to do it with me again.” your voice is lower, there’s a whine to it, and he turns to face to see your cheeks pink and fingers twisted together nervously.

“i shouldn’t have done that today. i apologise. like you said an old man should keep his distance from his young coworkers.” he was trying really hard to ignore the way your thighs clenched as he called himself an old man.

“but i don’t want you to keep your distance!” your voice was more demanding now and he shook his head.

“where’s your manners bun?” he asks, chin tilted toward you and tone soft but there’s a pout on your face. like you were determined to have him give in.

“where’s yours? you act all weird to me then you compliment me and get all close then you need to keep your distance? that’s not fair!” you bite back childishly and he lifts a hand to your face, taking your cheek into his hand and you nearly nuzzle into it as you stare up at him with wide eyes. “i want you bucky.”

“you’re such a fucking brat.” his lips are against yours, hard. his mechanical hand grips the bare skin of your waist, leaving goosebumps on the hot skin and you moan against his lips. he pulls back with a pop and you admire his spit slick lips.

“you want this?” his voice is serious and stern and you nod but he shakes his head disapprovingly. “words bunny.”

“yes sir.” your words are followed with a giggle and he smirks down at you.

“you like calling me sir? what about it? it remind you how much older than you i am? you like that, huh?” his lips trace their way down your neck as his hands explore your ass under your skirt.

“that and you’re bossy.” your words are punctuated with a slap to your ass and you yelp and grab onto his biceps.

“not gonna tell you again about that attitude. you wear all this pink making everyone think you’re a good little girl but really you’re a bratty whore.” his words pour into you like lava. melting you down and down until you’re putty in his hands willing to do anything he wants.

“sorry sir.” your voice is sugary sweet and you follow it with a sweet kiss to his bearded jaw, a glittery lipgloss mark against it which makes you blush. “let me make it up to you?”

you push him backwards onto the antique chaise longue, and climb on top of him. your clothed heat settles above his stiffening cock and you reconnect your lips with his own. your hands roam under the black t shirt as you rock against him. his tongue pushes easily into your mouth and you let him rub it along yours.

bucky liked to kiss dirty you quickly found out. your spit swapping as his tongue traced your own before he sucked yours into his mouth and you let out a moan.

“such pretty fucking noises just from kissing bunny.” his lips move down your jaw as your hands trace his hard abs. you’re humping him now as he grips your hips, guiding you against him and you’re sure you’re leaving a wet patch on his jeans.

one of your hands makes its way lower to palm him through the jeans and he sucks in a breath at the feeling which makes you whine in response. “wanna suck it, please sir.” your forehead rests on his chest as you beg and he chuckles against your neck.

“go ahead princess.” the words spur you on and you peel yourself from on top of him to kneel between his legs. you make quick work to move to take his belt in your hands but he pushes you off.

“slow down bun.” he undoes the belt painfully slow and you almost feel drool pool in your mouth as you just watch as he stands above you and rids himself of his jeans and boxers. already hard cock slapping against his lower tummy. your hips move against nothing at the side of him, staring down at you with his messy hair falling in his face.

“please?” you barely get out above a whisper and he smiles down at you, taking some of your hair in his hand and nods.

“go ahead bunny. s’all yours.” that really egged you on and you carefully took it at the base as you guided it to your mouth. your tongue swirled on the tip and bucky threw his head back with a loud groan.

“fucking hell baby.” all the nicknames and the weight of him against your tongue was making your head spin as you kept your eyes on the man above you. you pushed him further into your mouth before you got as low as you could and prepared to pull off until he fisted your hair and shoved you further down. you felt your throat bulge as you choked around him but the sound of his moans above you made it worth it as you concentrated on breathing through your nose.

“good fucking girl that’s it.” he praises, his grip still tight in your hair as you begin to bob on and off his cock. you gag again around him and absentmindedly reach up to his mechanical hand, threading your fingers with his own for comfort and he coos at you. “such a sweet girl, just needed your -fuck- your mouth filling.”

you moan around him and he begins thrusting into your mouth now, flesh hand holding your head still as he abuses your throat. flows of your name and curses fall from his lips and your free hand makes its way to his balls giving them a gentle squeeze before he stills against your face, cumming down your throat then pulling your mouth off and on him as his orgasm washes completely over him. you come off of him with a pop sound and he watches as you swallow everything he had given you without him even having to tell you. “good girl.” you smile up at him and he uses the hand he was holding to pull you up.

“cmon.” he grabs his pants and leads you out of your pink room and down the hall to his own. your eyes wander around and its entirely black. so bucky you think.

“wanna fuck you in my bed princess, that okay?” he asks and you nod.

“don’t even need to ask sir, can have whatever you want from me.” you tell him and he stares into your eyes knowing there’s not a hint of a lie in that statement.

“take this off.” your hands pull eagerly at the black shirt and he reaches a hand behind him to pull it over his head. you don’t even try to hide your stare as you take him all in. completely bare in front of you and hes absolutely perfect. muscly and rock solid like he was carved out of stone.

you smile cheekily back at him, bottom lip tucked between your teeth, as you climb hands and knees on to his black bed sheets. you arch your back to him, letting him know you’re not wearing panties and he can’t believe his eyes.

“fucking hell bunny.” you were dripping down your thighs and he just couldn’t help but lean forward and shove his face into it. he moaned at the taste of you. so sweet. and the smell. he felt like he’d died and been given a chance at heaven.

your noises got louder and louder as he swiped his tongue between your folds before landing on your clit and circling it a few times. you were like putty in his hands, pushing yourself back against his mouth letting him have you like this. he was the luckiest bastard ever. he’d thought about this exact thing almost every-time he found himself fisting his cock in the shower after another torturous day of you prancing around the tower in your skimpy outfits.

“gonna cum!” you whined out, your hand reaching behind you to fist at his hair and he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your heat before he pulled away. “bucky?!”

“you gotta earn it baby. that’s for your attitude and missing your training today.” he explains and manoeuvres you onto your back against the pillows. “need you to be a good girl for me so i can treat you like a spoiled little brat.”

his hands made quick work of ridding you of your clothes and he immediately grabbed onto your tits. his tongue finding its way to the left nipple. he circled it and you moaned out, arching against him already desperate for your relief.

“bucky please.” you star down at him. he has his lips puckered around your pebbled nipple and he smirks up at you. “need you please i’ll be so good i promise.”

“oh yeah?” he asks, moving his lips to the next nipples as his cock brushes at your entrance.

“fuck! yes please sir i need you so bad!” he grabs ahold of the base and presses the tip against your clit. he rubs circles against it and your manicured nails find their way to press deep moons into his shoulders as you moan out his name.

“that feel good bunny?” he asks in vain. it feels good to him never mind you who’s tense against him, moans falling from your lips as you fight the coil already building in your tummy.

“i’m so close sir.” you let him know and he near enough growls as he continues his circles on your clit, his tip leaky from his first orgasm. “please please!” your voice turns into a whine against his lips and your orgasm comes like a storm cloud over you. your eyes screw shut and it leaves you shaking as you pulse around nothing.

“such a good fucking girl. came from just my tip on your little clit. didn’t even finger you or nothing yet princess.” he pressed a comforting kiss to your head and you sigh with a smile in response, head still fuzzy. “you gonna give me another? let me fuck you in that little cunt?”

“yes please sir.” your voice is quiet and he smirks down at you. he guides his cock head to your entrance and thrust gently inside. you’re dripping wet and he’d warmed you up for him so there’s barely any resistance as you take him in greedily. “bucky!”

“so fucking good bunny, fucking perfect.” he grunts into your open mouth as you whimper at the stretch of him as he pushes in to the hilt “fits like a glove.” you almost laugh at that, such an old man thing to say.

“bucky!” it’s barely a babble and he nods down at you, pushing the stay hairs from your face.

“you okay bun? feeling good?” you nod and he wants to laugh at how fucking cute you look stuffed full of his cock with your mouth open in an ‘o’ and your eyes squeezed shut. “can you look at me?”

“so full!” your eyes glow up at him sweetly and he smiles,chest feeling hot.

“thereee she is.” he presses a kiss to your forehead. “you feel okay baby?” you were warm all over. like he’d taken over every part of your body and you trust him so deeply to do so.

“please move?” that was all he needed as he pulled out to slam back in again. you were gripping him like a vice and the room was filled with your whimpers and the wet sounds coming from where your bodies met. “feels soo good.”

“yeah? you like how i fuck you princess?” he asks and you just nod, already getting close and your brain turning dumb as he babies you. “next time gonna bend you over in one of the pieces of fabric you call a skirt. make sure you got no panties on and take you in the meeting room.” he’s grunting and each word he speaks brings you both closer to that point.

“can’t even tell you how many times i thought of that. thought of the poor excuse of a string you had on for underwear.” he groans again and you whine as you look down between you both. “yeah watch me fuck you princess.”

“i think of it too.. always watch your arms in your shirts.” your hands instinctively begin stroking his biceps and he chuckles at you.

“yeah? you like my arms bun?”

“mhm..so big. want them anywhere on me.” with that he pulls out and flips you onto your front. his mechanical arm grabs you around your neck, holding you to his back in a slight headlock as the other guides his back into you. you moan out his name and your head is thrown back onto his shoulder. the new angle let him get even deeper and you could already tell you weren’t gonna last much longer.

his flesh hand presses a finger to your clit circling and egging you on. your hands grip the arm holding you on and it just spurs you on even more as you grind down against his hand. that paired with the brutal way he was fucking has you right on that edge.

“bucky please need to cum.” you beg. “wanna come all over you please please let me?”

“go on bunny such a good girl you deserve it.” he lips press to the side of your face and with the softest action your spasming in his arms practically screaming his name. your walls pulse around him and feels his release right there and with a few more pumps he cums into you with a deep groan. he stills against your body, holding you tight against him before he lays you both down on his sheets.

your head is against his hard chest and your eyes flutter open to look up at him. “you okay?” he asks and you nod shyly, blushing as you stare up at him. “why’re you goin all shy on me now?” his hand strokes your cheek and you shrug.

“feel shy.” you tell him and he chuckles at you.

“you’re silly baby.” he gets up from the bed with a whine from you. “cmon let’s get you cleaned up.”

**

[angel-writes-here]

Brother's Best Friend

G-Dragon x AFAB! Reader Synopsis: Tensions between you and your brother's best friend come to a head. Warnings: SMUT, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), fingering, oral (both receiving), pet names, a little bit of Dom Jiyong, teasing, not a lot of fluff, some angst i think. Prompt 10 "Yeah, keep telling yourself that" A/N: Thank you so much for all the love and support. Be aware, smut writing may get a little slower as it's starting to feel repetitive for me, so I might need breaks. Thank you for 100 followers! I hope you guys enjoy the event. To be tagged in the event or future fics please comment (specify which one please)

Being Choi Seunghyun’s little sister comes with it’s fair share of… situations. Camera’s taking pictures, fan’s wanting to know how he’s doing or wanting pictures, living in his shadow a little, but it wasn’t as bad as some would think.

You definitely took advantage of the perks. Free stuff, PR packages when you promised to review products, getting to travel the world with him when he could bring you on tour and the new family you made in Daesung and Youngbae.

However, Jiyong, Jiyong wasn’t a brother to you at all and you didn’t want him to be. When you first met the guys, you thought he was cute. You’d get nervous around him and he could tell, teasing you playfully every so often, and chuckling whenever he noticed you shrink back into your shell. That was years ago though.

But, your feelings hadn’t gone away, neither had the teasing and as much as you tried to tell yourself you didn’t like him, that he was some big star who wouldn’t look at you twice, your feelings couldn’t be denied.

You walk into the apartment, Jiyong sitting on the couch scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t peek up from his phone; he knows its you.

“Where’s my brother?” your voice comes off a little colder than you mean for it to. But to be honest, you thought the best way to get over your little crush was to be cold and short, even if your heart does a skip a beat when you see him. Jiyong had grown accustom to this, not letting it phase him.

“Out getting food,” he mumbles as he scrolls on his phone. You purse your lips and nod, taking your things to your room.

You walk back out of your room only to be met by your brother’s best friend.

“Uh, excuse you,” you try to say and he just smirks. You roll your eyes trying to move around him but he blocks you. Your feet attempt to carry you the other way but he moves in sync with you. You sigh flustered by his actions, accompanied with an eye roll and light pink cheeks.

“You go this way,” you point to your left, “and I’ll go this way,” you say pointing to your right.

You go to move right and he follows you again, a cocky smile finding it’s way onto his face.

Smug.

“Jiyong, seriously, get out of my way,” You attempt to gently push him to the side, but he gently catches your wrists. He walks toward you, backing you up against the wall.

“How long are we gonna do this, hmm? Dance around each other like there’s nothing here,” His eyes pierce into you, voice dripping with desire. His eyes search yours, flicking down to your lips before going back up.

“What are you talking about?” Your voice comes out slightly shaky and you try to calm your hammering heart.

“This little song and dance we do. Well, that you do,” he corrects himself, “Where you act like you can’t stand me.”

“I can’t,” you say with your head held high but Jiyong just chuckles at you. He lets go of your wrists, hands caging you in against the wall.

He leans in, lips barely touching your ear, “Yeah keep telling yourself that,” he chuckles as you swallow the lump in your throat. You would swear your heartbeat was the loudest thing in the room.

“Seunghyun will be home any minute,” you go to protest but he cuts you off.

“You think I can’t see it,” his brow quirks at the question, “How you look at me when you don’t think I’m watching.”

You roll your eyes, “With disgust and disdain?” The words come out snarky, proud and totally see through. He tuts, leaning his forehead in so close it’s almost touching yours.

“With lust and desire,” his voice is low, teasing, a hand falls to your hip as his body now presses against yours. You’re looking just past him, trying not to stare at his lips.

“I can sense how I make you feel,” he whispers once again in your ear; an obvious shiver runs down your spine making your body shake under him. You take a breath, his cologne hitting your nostrils, soft but spicy. His eyes rake up and down your body.

“How nervous you get when I walk into the room, the way your face,” he brushes your cheek with the back of his knuckles, “blushes when my eyes linger a little too long,” he smirks.

“Oh, just like that,” he teases with a smug grin as the crimson tint paints your cheeks as if on que. The smell of his cologne and cigarettes mixing as you inhale every breath has you intoxicated.

“Come on, y/n, you know your heart races anytime you’re near me,” he puts his hand on your chest feeling the faint thud that’s hammering in your ears.

“See?” He draws out. You inhale another shaky breath. His hand still rests on your face while the other dares not to move from your chest.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, who starts it or where you both begin or end, but your lips find each other, hot, needy and messy, no rhyme or rhythm. Teeth knocking, tongues fighting and your body betrays you by pulling him closer by his shirt. Your senses dull for a moment, practically drunk on his lips.

His lips are soft against yours, despite the pressure of his mouth. His tongue darts between your lips, small whimpers being swallowed by his mouth as they escape yours.

You can feel him smirk against the kiss.

“Cocky bastard,” you mumble. He chuckles against you.

“You love it,” he mumbles as his hands run up and down your sides, your arms around his neck.

Before anything can go any further, Seunghyun’s key is in the lock. You gasp against him and push him off you. Both of your lips are swollen; Jiyong’s smirk ever present. Just as Seunghyun shuts the door, he looks at the two of you with a raised brow.

“Everything ok in here?” Jiyong wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Great, y/n was just showing me mouth to mouth," his eyes flit to you, "With us going to the Maldives, it could be a useful skill.” He chuckles, noting the pink tinted flesh of your face.

“I didn’t know you knew the kiss of life,” Seunghyun remarks as he sets the food out. You roll your eyes as Jiyong stifles a full-on laugh. You swat his arm as you walk past him into the kitchen.

Seunghyun hands you your food and you escape into your room.

The rest of the night you can hear Jiyong and your brother laughing, shouting at the tv, and over all having a really good time. You huff as you leave your room, trying to walk out confidently in your all too revealing pj’s.

You pass them into the kitchen to grab a drink when you hear your brother’s voice.

“Grab me a bottle of wine, would you?” Jiyong walks into the kitchen, noting your short sleep shorts and bites his bottom lip, the way it hugs your hips and ass causing him to grow in his pants.

“Such a tease,” you stiffen as his hands come to your hips, lips next to your ear.

“Wearing that for me, all innocent looking,” he groans softly in your ear, your resolve buckling quickly as you feel a slight heat between your legs.

“It’s like your begging me to fuck you right here, with your brother in the next room,” his tongue darts out over your ear and your eyes flutter close with your mouth parting ever so slightly, a slight exhale leaving your lips.

He places a feather-like kiss to your neck, a small gasp escaping you as his tongue licks a small strip of skin.

He chuckles darkly as he, hesitantly, lets you go and grabs your brother the wine he requested. He takes one last look at you before shaking his head with a smile and walking back into the living room. You take a moment to steady yourself, chugging the water in your glass.

You walk back to your room, biting a smile back the whole time.

-

Later that night you get a knock on your door. You open and it and before he can be stopped Jiyong shoves his way into your room, pinning you against the back of your door. His breathing is heavy, pupils are slightly enlarged and his heart is pounding against his chest.

He takes your hand placing it to his chest.

“See what you do to me, jagiya?” He teases and like usual, a slight blush appears on your cheeks as you draw your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Oh, don’t go getting shy on me now, baby. You thought you could tease me and get away with it?” He nibbles on your ear lobe. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel the muscles in your stomach tighten at his touch, slightly arching into him.

“I wasn’t teasing you,” you try to defend your outfit choice but it earns you a slight slap to your clothed core. You yelp is surprise before Jiyong’s hand goes to your mouth.

“Don’t lie to me,” he warns, “and be quiet. He doesn’t know I’m in here.” He presses a kiss just below your ear and you squirm underneath him.

He presses another kiss to the same spot, this one open mouthed as his tongue darts out wetting the spot before closing his lips around it. A soft moan leaves his lips.

“You smell so good,” he mumbles against your skin.

“Bet you taste so much better,” he whispers as his hand travels up you thigh, ghosting over you.

“Don’t tease me,” you whimper, hands clinging to his shirt.

“I thought you couldn’t stand me,” he teases.

“Fuck me,” you groan in frustration into his shoulder.

“Oh, I plan on it,” he chuckles as his hands slip under your tank top, helping you pull it over your head. Your cheeks flush. You’d imagined the scenario a hundred, maybe even a million times, but now that it’s happening it doesn’t feel real. It’s like a dream.

He groans at the sight.

“Fuck,” he breathes as his hands come up to cup your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples. You bite back a moan, your lip between your teeth. His hands are warm, soft and easy and as they caress you. Jiyong’s lips connect to yours, pulling your bottom lip gently between his teeth, before he removes his own shirt. He notices your hands twitching at your sides and he takes one hand, dragging in down his chest. He smiles at the way your fingers grasp at his toned skin. He pulls you to the bed, gently pushing you down against it, kissing down your neck, love bites being left in his wake.

His tongue swirls around your hardened nipple, another soft gasp leaving you. Jiyong looks up at you through your lashes, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure. Your eyes are closed, the feeling of his tongue obvious against your warm skin.

Your hands find his hair, nails scratching slightly against the scalp.

He flattens his tongue, running it over your nipple, the sensation sending little pleasure signals to your already wet pussy. Your hips shift, brushing his pelvis and he smirks.

“Somone’s needy,” he teases.

“Jiyong, come on.” Your words are a clear sign of desperation.

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t rush me. I’m savoring every,” he places a kiss to your sternum, “single,” he places another one just below the first, “second,” he places a third one just below your breast line.

His tongue darts out, leaving more open-mouthed kisses down to the waistband of your shorts. His cock is angry, red, and leaking into his boxers; a damp patch making it obvious. He’s thought about how good you taste a million times, and now that he gets to find out, he can hardly contain his excitement.

He slowly hooks his fingers into your shorts and panties and pulls them down. He looks down at your exposed flesh, tongue wetting his lips in anticipation.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he warns before settling between your legs.

He gives you only a second to protest before he’s kissing up your leg. He leaves little love bites on your thighs, some of them guaranteed to bruise.

“Fuck your dripping,” he breathes out and his finger’s part your folds, collecting some of your arousal. He groans as his cock twitches in his pants.

“So pretty, and all for me,” he says before he attaches his mouth to your core, sucking your clit between his lips. You gasp as your back automatically arches off the bed, legs bent slightly up.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, his tongue masterfully circles your bud, the pleasure undeniable.

“Feel good, baby?” He smirks already knowing the answer.

“Tell me how it feels,” he encourages. Your hips lift against his face, his nose brushing your clit as his tongue laps at you.

“Fuck it feels good, so, so good,” your eyes screw shut as your hands travel to his hair.

“Good girl,” he smirks as a finger is slowly inserted. He notices your walls clamp down at the praise.

“Ooh, look at that,” he mocks, “You like be told how good you are. A good little fuck toy,” and your walls once again clamp down with a muffled moan. Your hips rock against his finger.

His tongue starts working on your clit again, this time at lightening speed as his finger curls into that sweet spongey spot that causes your head to spin.

“Oh, God,” you moan out, a little too loudly before you clamp a hand on your mouth. He adds another finger, never slowing down. You feel the familiar tightening in your stomach, your body slowly edging into going rigid as your hips flow with his thrusts. You begin gasping and panting as your heart rate speeds up, little flashes of heat intensifying. Your head digs into the mattress, mouth falling open as your eyes screw shut. You place your hand back over your mouth as your orgasm hits, hard, your thighs clamping down against his head.

Your body shakes beneath him and Jiyong moans as he feels your walls clamp down on his fingers. His own cock growing more achingly hard by the second. He doesn’t stop, only slows his movements to help you milk every bit of pleasure form this.

“That was so hot,” he whispers to himself once your body goes still, watching your breasts move up and down as you regain control of your breathing. He brings himself up to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself. Your hand goes up to him, palming his clothed cock in your hands.

“Words, baby,” he smirks.

“Want it,” you say muffled against his lips.

“Earn it,” he says before shifting onto his back. He watches as your exposed body crawls over on top of him. You tug his shirt off him, kissing his lips gently, before kissing down his jawline to his neck.

“I wanna feel you,” you whimper in his ear, desperation taking over and Jiyong chews on his bottom lip.

“Taste you,” you continue as your hand travels down his abdomen.

“Hear you babble my name because you can’t remember anything else but my mouth and dripping pussy.” Your tongue flicks over the shell of his ear and he shivers, barely holding onto his cocky composure.

You leave open mouth kisses down his chest, your bottom lip dragging across the skin of his abdomen as you peer at him through your lashes. Jiyong’s cheeks are slightly flushed as he watches you dance around the hem of his pants. Your fingers graze the skin of his pelvis, and Jiyong could swear he felt electricity.

He raises his hips for you and you watch as he springs out, the tip of his cock angry, leaking and begging for release. He hisses as the cool air hits it, causing the slightest sting. He swallows a moan as you lick your lips.

Slowly your fingers wrap around him, Jiyong’s fists are all ready in the sheets beneath him.

You slide your hand up to the head, collecting some of the precum and smearing over him. You watch his body shift underneath you, the way his stomach muscles contract with each pump, the way his eyes flutter shut when you start to find a consistent rhythm. The way it sounds when he gasps because he wasn’t expecting your tongue to go to his slit so quickly. You wrap your lips around him, cheeks already hollowed out as you slide down on his cock. A choked out moan leaving his mouth. His hand goes over his mouth, remembering Seunghyun is in the room across the hall.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as you swirl your tongue around him, your eyes closed and the only thought in your head being his pleasure. His hips gently lift off the bed when he feels your hand go to play with his balls.

“Ah, fuck you feel so good,” your thighs squeeze together at the praise, another flood of heat in your core.

“Fuck you look so good like this,” he says as his hands come to hold your hair out of your face, making a ponytail. You begin to move faster, a tiny bit of your teeth scrape him and he gasps, the feeling unexpected. Your nose meets his pelvis with each time you sink down, the salty taste of him being left on your tongue.

“Mm, fuck, I’m close,” he groans, “Gonna cum down that pretty little throat of yours.” He grunts as his muscles go taut. You brace yourself on his thighs, your head starting to spin from how fast your moving, slight gagging filling the room. You feel his cock twitch on your tongue, and after another moment you feel the hot, sticky, salty taste go down your throat. Jiyong is bent over, his lips against your hair as he releases.

“Fuck, y/n, that was so good, made me feel so damn good.” He whispers helplessly into your hair like a man wrecked from head to toe. You sit there for a moment while he regains his composure.

Slowly his hands find your arms, silently, and he pulls you to him, lips crashing together in fervor.

He leans back slowly, your body following as he helps you position your hips above him.

Without a word, you slowly sink down onto him, the stretch making you gasp and your forehead falls onto his shoulder. He holds you, arms around your body letting you get used to the feeling.

“Fuck,” you whisper, the sting almost bringing tears to your eyes.

“’s ok, baby. Take your time,” he whispers into your hair before kissing the side of your head.

After a moment you regain yourself and rock your hips. Jiyong's mouth goes to your shoulder now, teeth sinking into it to keep him from moaning too loud.

“Fuck, angel you feel so good,” he grunts as the pleasure hits the both of you, his cock nestled inside your body, hitting that sweet spot with each movement. You brace yourself on his shoulders for balance before you begin to slowly bounce yourself up and down. Jiyong watches as your head tilts back, body slowly falling back wards as you brace onto the mattress, pleasuring yourself on him.

His lips kiss just underneath your bust line, teeth grazing your sweat slick skin. Your mouth hangs open, moans and groans threatening to echo in the room. He pulls you back up to him, capturing your lips as he holds onto your hips, helping you move.

“Fuck you feel so good wrapped around my cock,” he groans against your lips. You’re too far gone for words, only whimpers and moans are heard.

Jiyong can feel how close you are, how your walls keep fluttering around him. He notices your hips loosing rhythm and he starts bucking his hips to meet your, hitting that spot just inside your entrance each time, making you cry out into his shoulder.

“Jiyong, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper and its as if all caution is thrown to the wind as hearing you whimper his name sends him into a feral pace, hips slapping against you, your mouth crying into his neck with pleasure, him concentrated on making sure you get every little bit out of your orgasm.

The wave hits, your body going rigid, hands gripping his neck like an anchor, and your walls grip his cock like a vice. Your toes curl as your body shakes on top of him. Jiyong leaves kisses on your neck trying to help ground you as you ride out the high. His own hits right as yours is coming to and end, breathing coming out in gasps. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, moans and groans coming out as his load shoots up into you.

You hold onto him, your fingers running through the short hair at the nape of his neck. He stills, the two of you sitting together for a breif moment, when he pulls his head from the crook of your neck.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispers as he gently moves some of your hair out of your face. A sweet kiss is shared between you before he helps you up, your legs a little wobbly. He grabs his pants, and exists the room, only to come back with a rag damp with warm water.

His hand goes between your legs, gently cleaning you up.

“So beautiful,” he whispers with a kiss to your thigh as he finishes. He discards of the rag quickly before cuddling up to you in bed.

“You’ll have to be on the couch when he wakes up.” You remind him. Jiyong deflates underneath you.

“I know.” He kisses your forehead. The two of you are silent for a moment as the question hangs in the balance. You get the courage to speak first.

“So, what does this mean for us?” You can't look a him yet, you're heart going ninety miles an hour, anticipating his response.

“I have no idea,” your eyes meet, neither of you sure where you stand. There’s a beat of silence.

“Goodnight,” he says with a kiss to the top of your head, and he leaves the bed to go back to the couch. You watch him walk out, an unknown feeling blooming in your chest.

Tags: @breakmeoff @thelovelybireader @loveesiren

Please do not repost my work

Love notes and comments are appreciated!

[ckret2]

I remember you saying a lot of the characters you'd written for had a common theme of loneliness, is there any common theme between the pairings you like or is it just purely "the chemistry is good" ?

there are sooo many pairings with "good chemistry" that totally bore me lmao. no, i've got specific preferences.

Here's one very very specific ship dynamic that I almost always gravitate toward:

Enter a fandom. Find the most powerful villain (or villain-acting character) in this fandom. They must be completely OP, absolutely self-assured in their power and supremacy, all but unbeatable (unless it's by like the plucky hero or whatever). They are smug. They are confident. Their tag is probably filled with reader insert fics with plots like "y/n is dommed by [character] and calls him daddy." This is the Badass.

Find another character. This character is comparatively pathetic. Oftentimes, the fandom joke is that they could never win a fight. If the fandom isn't loudly proclaiming that this second character would get their ass handed to them by, specifically, the Badass, then it's only because the two of them are on SUCH different power levels that the idea of a fight never enters fans' minds. They may or may not actually be a wimp, but what matters is the fandom (and often, the narrative) sees them that way—at least when compared to the Badass, if not universally. This is the Loser.

Then have the Badass get kneecapped with love for the Loser.

They've gotta fall in love in a way that completely destroys them. It makes them fall from grace. It strips away their godhood. It topples their empire. It steals their power, their prestige, their dignity, their confidence, their sanity. It ruins their life.

The Badass would give up everything for a chance to crawl like a worm at the feet of their beloved Loser. They submit themself entirely to the Loser's will. They are but a sword, a toy, a dog, a piece of trash—whatever they need to lower themself to to be allowed to bask in the Loser's light.

The Loser might not even reciprocate.

This is a difficult ship dynamic to be into because even when the fandom DOES ship Badass/Loser, every one of the fics is like "Loser is dommed by Badass and calls him daddy" and I recoil in disgust.

And here's some other ship dynamics I'm into—borrowed from a couple of prior asks I've gotten here and here so if you wanna see me ramble EVEN MORE, I go more in depth in those two links.

the biggest thing that gets me into a ship is unhealthy obsession. Love to the point of self-destruction. Love past the point of all reason. Love like an addiction, love like a poison.

Forms this takes can include:

a worshiper toward their (personal) god. bonus points if the "god" isn't even that great, the divinity just exists in the worshiper's mind and the "god" kinda sucks (billford's a good example; I actually usually prefer the obsession going the other way around, but there's definitely still shades of this in how I write Ford's POV on Bill)

mutual rabidly codependent toxic obsession (example: comics Venom.)

"knight" obsessively in love with their liege. (canon example: Pearl toward Rose Quartz. headcanon example: Zim toward the Tallest. this is gonna be how i write Scaramouche toward Aku.) This can be extended to ships with similar power dynamics like henchman/villain.

your classic yandere. "I love you so much I had to kidnap you," "stay with me and I'll make you sososo happy, leave and I'll kill us both," "I will proactively murder anyone who likes you before you can like them back," "I will rewrite my entire identity to be perfect for you," "I'm so breathlessly euphoric with love for you that I kind of want to slit my own throat" yandere-yandere. (THE yandere: Yuno Gasai. a personal favorite: IDW Tarantulas toward Prowl.)

perpetually unrequited love. it MUST stay unrequited. if it becomes requited it stops being interesting. it must be quietly agonized over for an eternity. Bonus points if the couple once had a chance but the suffering lover sabotaged it. (I've done this with HashiMada, Starscream/Wheeljack, and radiosnake. you could easily do it with Gideon/Mabel or post-betrayal billford.)

"emotionless" characters (like in a "robot programmed without emotions" way, not a "mental illness" way) that somehow gain the capacity to feel love and it becomes their whole identity because they have nothing else. (i don't have an example lmao)

Various tropes I enjoy outside unhealthy obsession (although it can incorporate it):

Anything that lets me write a character romantically waxing poetic over the breathtaking beauty of something that normal people would never consider a potential object of attraction. Like a pteranodon, or a literal triangle with an eyeball, or a pile of black sludge.

The super genius who makes/does incredible things and their personal muse who inspires their work and is in awe of the brilliant things they do/make. they can both be geniuses but don't have to be. (Tarantulas & Prowl; Sir Pentious & Alastor; Ford & Bill)

Toxic exes who still know each other SO well that it's agony to be around each other because they can see everything they used to have.

Characters who make each other Worse. Like their relationship is good, but being together turns them both into terrible people. (Venom.)

[meowiluvcats]

Introooo:

Hii so this my page, I be posting anything I find funny or cute so it’s probably super chaotic.😭 (never made a bio before don’t judge or im biting ur toes or sum idk💔😔)

I don’t really put my name or stuff in bio but you can ask me any personal questions in dm.

Call me whatever you want tho😭 (except pinky princess🤨🤨🤨🤨)

Here’s some quick stuff you should know:

Male

21

Europe(the Netherlands specifically)

Straight

Switch (so both dom & sub just depends on the person)

6’6 ish or about 200cm

I speak English and Dutch but a bit of Spanish & German too

And I study in university

I really like talking to ppl so DMs are always open!! Or feel free to send asks ! Idk I love interacting and making jokes n whatever so say whatever u want lmao😭😭😭

I will probably block or ignore if ur either really boring/dry or just being weird or mean but I am a very open minded person and have lots of energy so I doubt that will happen often.

Here’s some of my interests:

🎸Music: really into music, will listen a lot so if you have good taste put me on.

Fav genres: anything rap, rock, rnb, soul/neosoul, jazz, jazzrap, jpop, metal a bit, Spanish, and sooo much more.

I can put artist and songs here in the future too or a link to my Spotify lmk

🎮 Gaming: Some of my favs include Minecraft, stardew valley, terraria !!!, hades, subnautica, soulsborne games, anything Pokémon, and a lot more.

🥘 Cooking/baking: love making interesting things and seeing people enjoy my meals. Anything sea food, pasta, curry, rice is a regular thing. Hmu for food pics.

📖 Reading: I love reading books esp mythology recently.

🎥 Anime/manga/movies/series/comics: love to watch or read these things. I have soo many favs idek what to put here😭

😽Cats! I love cats, tbh I love animals in general I study biology after all. But cats are so cute and I have two myself (1 is the pfp, dm to see more :3)

I can add more later but this a quick intro, if you like any of these things feel free to talk to me I love yapping or being yapped to. I love when ppl interact w me or my page and if I can make you laugh it means the world to me loll. Also im always here to talk even in bad times so yk dont feel like you’d bother me or sum.

Shii if ur this far down might as well send an ask or summm😭 idek byee

ALSO I LOVE HAVING MOOTS SO YEA 😋

Also I be getting shy n stuff from praise or teasing so don’t even get any funny ideas 😭😔. Like it’s not my fault im weak to that and melt to literally anything n be getting butterflies/tingles in my stomach. So don’t even try or imma scream and it’s unfair so you can’t yeaaaaaaaa😓

[moonyysgirl]

More stoner Remus 🙏🙏🙏🙏

here's another part of the dealer!remus series, enjoy!!

You're so hot when you're jealous - Remus Lupin x reader

pairing; dealer!rem x reader summary; reader gets jealous of remus for the first time and decides to do something about it cw; smut, stoner!rem, loser!rem, jealous!reader, reader is kinda dom, desperate!remus pt 1; pt 2; pt 3

After the last hookup, you and Remus were growing closer and closer. You would often catch him looking at you in class, and you would return his looks when you were sure no one else was looking, teasing him with a pencil in your mouth.

He was driving you crazy. But you couldn't bring yourself to ask him out still, and apparently he couldn't either. He would drag you into empty classes to make out during lunch break occasionally, but he would never speak about going out or becoming something more.

You were both frustrated and excited about it, and you were still secretive about him with your friends. In some ways though, you liked it as it was, cause you wanted to keep it as a little secret between the two of you for a little longer, but at the same time you would often catch yourself secretly dreaming for more.

When you heard about the party that was happening on the weekend you immediately thought about him, blushing at the memory of the last one you spent together. You smiled at yourself and immediately reunited your friend group to organize a pregame at your house. Although this time you didn't want to drink, you wanted to enjoy the possible hookup with remus as sober, since you didn't know when the next would occur.

That was the thing about you, you craved him, his touch, his lips, but you were also too scared to actively seek out for it, afraid of rejection and afraid of looking too desperate for him. Which you definitely were by the way, but you wouldn't want him to know, in case he would get too cocky about it and maybe starting to take you for granted.

But the party was finally happening, and you were so ready. You wore all the clothes you knew he liked (skirt, tight shirt, no bra, no thighs) and you drowned yourself in perfume. When you arrived the party was already taking off, and your friends were completely dazed with alcohol. They ran on the dance floor, meeting their friends, or their boyfriends, leaving you behind. Which was perfect, cause that meant they wouldn't notice your absence.

You immediately went to look up for Remus, outside, where you imagined him to be smoking or dealing (or both). You wandered for a bit, without effect. You were about to come back inside, filled with disappointment, when you spotted his friends. They were smoking on the patio, slouched on the chairs, around the fire pit. You looked around.

Where was he? You sighed. You needed to find him, and for that you had to put your pride aside. You took courage and went up to his friends, straightening your skirt, your cheeks blushing. "Hey" you greeted them, they acknowledged you, slightly lifting their chins to greet you. You cleared your throat "um..did you see Remus?"

One of them took a long drag of his joint before answering you "you need some stuff?" you bit your lip...so they really had no idea huh? You sighed, then nodded "yeah, he told me he would be here" his friend nodded "yeah..he should be around here, look by the pool on the back" you nodded "okay, um..thanks" he shrugged "no problem".

You went in the back garden, there were little groups of people talking and smoking sitting on the chairs by the pool. You looked around. There he was. Leaning on the wall, hands in his pocket, vintage sweater and slouchy jeans. Hot as usual. Your guts immediately filled with butterflies as you went up to him. But then you noticed.

He was talking to a girl. You felt a deep sorrow take over you as you went closer, jealousy burning your throat. You needed to hear what they were talking about. He hadn't noticed you still, as you sat on the sunbed in front of them. Lighting up a cig, to keep your hands occupied.

You could hear the girl giggling "stop! just give me the usual" Remus chuckled "fine, fine, but you're really missing out on my new stuff" the girl was smiling "will be for the next time" Remus giggled "okay, I''ll forgive you... okay, so it's 10, as usual"

"I might be 5 short..." the girl was still smiling, you could hear it in her voice, Remus sighed "alright...I'll give you a discount, but only cause it's you" the girl squealed "oh Rem! you're the best" you heard her kissing what you supposed to be his cheek.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, as you took the longest drag of the cigarette, burning your lungs. Remus giggled awkwardly "alright, now piss off, and don't make me regret it" she smiled again "bye Rem, it's always a pleasure!"

She walked away fast, passing in front of you. You recognized her, she was in your English class, but you never really spoke. As in that moment you decided you hated her. You took another couple of drags before the cig was over. You felt the anger rush to your hands, you threw the cigarette on the floor, you just wanted to walk away, but as you stood up, Remus noticed you

"Y/n!" you sighed, still not turning over to him. He came up to you, hugging you awkwardly. You didn't hug him back. "Watch'a doing here?" I was looking for you, you stupid fucking-"nothing, just smoking a cig" you gritted your teeth, trying to smile

Remus seemed genuinely confused "everything fine?" you shrugged "totally" Remus scratched the back of his head "um..you wanna take a walk?" you shrugged again "my friends are probably looking for me...so..." You tried walking away but he grabbed you by your wrist, making your breath hitch, pulling you into his chest.

Your heart fluttered, as his scent filled your nose, his breath on your face, suddenly so close to you. "Tell me what's wrong" he murmured. His voice was deep, you and him the only ones that could hear. You sighed deeply, inhaling his scent, feeling his cold fingers press into the warm skin of your wrist. You needed him. Right there and then.

You impulsively grabbed him by the arm, dragging him inside. Suddenly uninterested in what the others could see or think. Remus was chuckling "easy baby" you rolled your eyes, he could be such a dick sometimes.

You dragged him through the crowd, trying not to bump into too many people. You went up the stairs, still gripping his sleeve. You opened a couple of doors before finding the bathroom, lucky empty, and pushing Remus inside it, following him and locking the door closed behind you.

Remus smiled "what is it?" "who was that?" Remus frowned "huh?" you rolled your eyes "don't act dumb, she was with you outside" he looked confused "Em'? She's just a regular" you scoffed "Em'?" Remus grinned, his hand grazing your cheek "oh! I see, you're jealous of her!" you slapped his hand away "I'm not..."

Remus smiled, teasing you with his stupid condescending pout "oh, but you are" you rolled your eyes "you were literally flirting with her" Remus frowned again "I wasn't?" "I'll give you a discount, but only cause it's you" you said in a high pitched voice, mocking him.

He laughed "Okay...I do not talk like that!" you bumped his shoulder, Remus chuckled "Ow! You're become so aggressive when you're jealous" you shook your head "I already told you I'm not, but you were clearly flirting with her, and you can't deny it"

He shook his head, grabbing you by your shoulders "Y/n...I promise you, I wasn't, that's just how I act when I deal, and if I hurt you, I'm sorry" you scoffed "I'm not hurt! it's just..." he was looking at you intensely, seriously, listening, he really cared, so you finally let your guard down.

"It's just that I'm scared you'll like her more than me" you mumbled, avoiding his gaze, Remus sighed, he lifted your chin "Y/n, look at me" your eyes locked together "I know how it feels, cause I'm afraid of the same exact thing with you, all the time" you felt your heart fasten "really?" Remus nodded "of course I do, I like you so much, I don't want to lose you"

Your gaze softened "me neither" he smiled, kissing you. You deepened the kiss, and just like that, you were making out. Remus interrupted the kiss, looking at you "you're so hot when you're jealous, I should start flirting with girls more" You hit him on his chest "Hey!" he grabbed your wrist "that's enough" he said giggling.

You grinned "you can flirt with every girl you want, but no one will ever make you feel like I do" you said, your heart beating faster, your cheeks getting red, faking a confidence you didn't have. "Oh, I see" Remus said, caressing your cheek "and how would you make me feel?" you grinned again, maybe your confidence was fake, but the effect that your touch had on Remus was very real indeed.

You kissed his neck, sliding a hand under his sweater, caressing his smooth torso, going lower and lower, touching his belt. You looked at Remus, his previous confidence already disappeared. You unbuckled his belt slowly, hearing his breath hitch. When you unbuttoned his pants, Remus let out a light whimper "relax" you whispered, before kissing him. As your tongues swirled together you started to touch his bulge through the boxers, Remus whimpered in your mouth.

"I should show you how I could make you feel" you whispered on his lips, in a teasing tone. Smiling. Remus cheeks were burning, his half lidded eyes were getting wider. You slowly lowered yourself on the floor, your knees on the cold pavement. Remus stopped breathing "Wh-what are you doing?" he stuttered, you grinned, brushing your hair away from your face, looking at him with innocent eyes "what do you think?"

Remus sucked the air in. You felt him slightly shake in anticipation. You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, his dick sprung free, bouncing on his stomach. Your mouth watered at the sigh. He was already hard, his tip red and leaking with precum. You smiled "oh, look at that, one kiss and you're already a mess" Remus bit his lip, his eyes growing darker.

You wrapped your hand around his base, pumping it on his length a couple of times, spreading the slick. Remus whimpered. You smiled at him, and you looked at him as you licked his tip, the salty taste of him on your tongue. "Oh god" he whined "oh god baby wait" "what's wrong?"

He shook his head "I don't- I never-" you stood up "shhh" you reassured him, kissing his lips "just breath, it's gonna be okay" Remus nodded, trying to breath, his hands shaky around your waist "can I continue?" you asked him, brushing his hair away from his forehead, you wanted to see him, he nodded slowly "okay" he whispered, breath shaky.

You sank back to your knees. You looked at him in search of signs of uncertainness, but he nodded again, biting his lips. You licked a stripe up the side of his cock, your eyes locked on his face, Remus whined "baby please stop teasing" his voice was shaky, you smiled "so desperate for me".

You sucked gently at his tip, and then you bobbed your head sinking deeper on his cock. Remus moaned. You tried to adjust and then you finally took his length in. It was big, thick, and you couldn't take it in completely, so you wrapped your hand around his base. Remus whined "oh my fucking christ" you started going up and down slowly, trying to adjust to his size.

Remus hands were gripping the sink counter, his knuckles white from the force of the grip. His eyes were closed shut, his teeth sinking deep in his bottom lip. He bucked slightly into you. As you finally adjusted to his length you started picking up your pace, bobbing your head faster.

Remus whined loudly, throwing his head back in pleasure. You continued taking him in sloppily, saliva dripping from the side of your mouth, your tongue swirling around his cock, your soft warm mouth wrapping around him. You tried sinking deeper, his tip touching the back of your throat, you gagged on it, sending Remus over the edge.

He looked at you, you were teary eyed and your hair were getting in the way. Remus brushed them out gently, with shaky hands "oh my god baby you're so fucking hot like this" he mumbled. You sucked him slowly, before getting faster again. Remus threw his head back again.

Whines and whimpers started slipping from his lips, his hands locked in your hair. Remus hissed "f-f-fuck baby" he whined "I ca-I can't" he whimpered. You fastened your pace, your mouth going up and down sloppily, and as you watched Remus face contort in pleasure you could feel the arousal pool in your panties, you squirmed your legs together.

"Baby please" he whined in a desperate voice, his shaky hands covering his flustered face. You didn't stop, even if you were starting to feel like chocking, and tears were streaming down your cheeks. Someone started knocking on the door "It's occupied!" Remus shouted, before throwing his head back and crying out a loud moan.

"Baby I-I'm-" he moaned "I'm gonna cum" you got impossibly sloppier, Remus closed his eyes shut, biting his lip "oh my god I'm gonna cum" he repeated "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum" his voice was shaky. He looked at you "baby I'm gonna cum in your mouth" he said, you nodded giving him the permission, his hips began to twitch.

You pulled back a little, to welcome his arousal. He finally snapped, bucking his hips. "Oh fuck, oh fuck baby, fuck" he panted, as thick spurts of cum went down your throat "Jesus fucking christ" he cried out, his mouth open in a silent moan, his brows furrowed in a contort expression, his entire body tensing in pleasure.

You swallowed what you could, the rest dripping down the side of your mouth and chin, and then you pulled away slowly, a string of saliva still connecting your lips with his tip, you cleaned your lips, all sticky in his cum. You looked at Remus, he was a shaky mess, barely able to stand up.

You stood up, your knees were numb from the cold hard floor. Remus lifted up his boxers and jeans, buckling his belt with shaky fingers. He then looked at you with half lidded eyes, he dried the tears from your eyes with his thumbs.

His hair were a complete mess, his locks tangled in sweat. You brushed them away from his forehead. His skin was burning and sweaty, his cheeks were red. "Oh my god baby, that was the best thing I ever felt in my life" he mumbled on your lips, before kissing you.

You pulled away of him, smiling "I'm glad" he tugged at your shirt, pulling you back in "where are you going? I didn't even start with you" he grinned kissing the side of your lip. You whimpered, but then you pulled away again.

You wanted to leave him with that memory for the night, and you also wanted him to feel your absence, and to miss you. "Maybe next time" Remus scoffed "what?" you grinned, your lips brushing his ear "maybe next time you won't flirt with girls" you whispered, before nipping his earlobe lightly.

Remus grinned "you're gonna regret this" he mumbled, you kissed him on the cheek before unlocking the door, leaving him behind you. Your heart was pounding in your ears and your panties were soaking wet but you felt invincible, as you left him there all dizzy and messy, leaning on the sink, looking at you with wide eyes and his mouth agape.

[s0lk]

stannarrator is an odd and confusing ship to me because i can enjoy it but only when it’s not framed as canon. that’s not to say i’m completely against the ship or that i haven’t consumed/made content of their canon selves in the past, but i’ve been doing some thinking and i feel like there’s a lot of pretty concerning aspects to their canon dynamic that are either downplayed or flat-out ignored by the fandom. (fandom mischaracterises characters for the sake of shipping, fork found in kitchen, i know, i know.)

i feel like people tend to reduce them to “toxic yaoi”, which… i mean, “toxic” is accurate, but i feel like the label is generally used to mean an enemies-to-lovers couple who fights often and usually has some kind of sadomasochism involved. this is what i generally see with fanon depictions of them - stanley is a cheeky little brat and the narrator is a cool sexy dom who like ties him up with the adventure line or something. i admit i was very much one of these people for a while. the thing is that they aren’t toxic in the sexy internet sense, their dynamic is genuinely unhealthy and harmful. there’s a massive power imbalance between them - which is very much exploited by the narrator - and while a power imbalance isn’t necessarily a bad thing, the key issue is that stanley is never seen to take the same enjoyment from it as the narrator does. if we take the narrator’s description of his emotions to be true, stanley is often pretty damn terrified by the things that happen to him, and if we take the description to be false, then the narrator still wants to cause suffering. he wants stanley to be afraid, to cower and beg for mercy, to do exactly what he asks of him, no matter what. in the ultra deluxe announcement, stanley runs from the narrator. he tries to be free of him, but there is no freedom to be found. he is trapped.

despite all this, we (the fandom) still like to have stanley be the silly, disobedient, sort-of-masochistic little critter, and i think the main issue is that we project ourselves so much onto him. we disobey the narrator, so naturally stanley must do the same. we play the countdown ending, think “goddamn he sounds hot” (which, i mean, i’m not going to argue with that) and decide that stanley must obviously feel the same way. there isn’t much to his personality in canon, so we decide that that makes him a blank-slate self-insert character, but that means that most stannarrator content ends up feeling more like player x narrator instead, with stanley being merely a vessel through which to enact our own desires.

there’s nothing necessarily wrong with characterising stanley this way, obviously. you can do what you want with him, and that’s the fun of it. it just annoys me when stanley acts as the player generally does, and it’s framed as if this is him, this is absolutely the canon version of his character, because the narrator says stanley makes those choices so obviously this is who he is! what this interpretation completely fails to consider is that, unlike with most video games, stanley and the player are two entirely separate entities. isn’t it so much more interesting to consider the implications of that, or to explore who stanley could be without the player’s influence?

this is why i really like AUs, because you’re awarded a degree of creative freedom that you don’t have when you’re working entirely off canon. want stanley to be a real person, with no one puppeteering him? go for it! make him a mischevious little fellow, because now it is actually him thinking and feeling for himself! you can even find workarounds or solutions for the more problematic elements of their dynamic, by putting them in scenarios where there is no power imbalance (coworker AUs for instance) or getting the narrator to actually acknowledge and rectify his own flaws and cruelty to stanley. the latter i particularly like (and it’s what i’m trying to achieve in my own fic), because it doesn’t deviate too far from canon but still allows for their relationship to get a little healthier. the thing with that though is that it takes Time, and i mean a Lot of time. and even when the narrator has improved as a person, it doesn’t really feel right for them to suddenly jump into a relationship. or even have a relationship. there’s a lot that goes into rebuilding a bond after that sort of treatment, and stanley has every right to not want anything to do with the narrator, whether romantically or at all. i do like the thought of them at least being friends after all that recovery (i’m a sucker for happy endings), but realistically there’s no reason stanley has to fall in love with the narrator.

anyway. yeah. once again, i don’t hate them as a pair, and i completely understand why people portray them the way they do, but it just… bugs me. dunno if this makes sense or if anyone feels the same way about this as i do, but here it is.

[saucyplayfulsmile]

Days like today make me really long for a Dom. The executive dysfunction is kicking my fucking ASS and I just need someone to put food in front of me then carry me into the shower. Then make me clean my doom room on the promise of tying me up and fucking me afterwards. Is that too much to ask? I feel like no.

[donghoonie-3]

I love how I wanna be more dom with some people but with others it doesn't matter lmao

[kooklovee]

HOLD ON TO ME (m) - JJK

Your husband forgets your second anniversary. What starts as disappointment and heartbreak soon spirals into doubt- about your love, your marriage & whether he even sees you anymore. But when Jungkook realizes his mistake, he’s willing to do anything to prove that his love has never wavered..

Can he make it up to you, or is it already too late?

Pairing - CeoHusband!Jungkook x Wife!Reader

Genre - 18+, established relationship au, angst, fluff, smut, some more angst MDNI

ONESHOT - 11k words

Warnings - angsty ride, hurt/comfort, workaholic Jungkook, miscommunication, crying, deep emotional intimacy, slow build, Jungkook is an idiot but trust me he's sweet alright😭, Explicit smut- unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), soft dom Jk, nipple play, lots of kissing, love-making, creampie, pet names <3, praises, happy ending (sad ending's not in my veins🫸)

a/n- snsjkqkw It's my first fic (well more like I've taken the courage to actually post it)🥹 do let me know your thoughts on it <3 n consider a reblog if you like it, thank you for reading! 🫶

Masterlist kofi☕

---------------------------------------------------

The soft glow of the overhead light casts long shadows across the dining room, but its warmth does nothing to chase away the cold emptiness creeping into your chest.

You sit in one of the dining chairs, fingers idly tracing the gold band on your ring finger, the once-familiar weight of it feeling heavier than ever. The house is silent, except for the distant hum of the city beyond the windows.

Jungkook is late. Again.

You’ve lost count of how many nights have passed like this, curled up alone in bed, the space beside you growing colder with each passing hour.

He always has a reason. A meeting that ran overtime, a last-minute project, something urgent that demands his attention more than you do. And you’ve always understood. Until now.

Your second anniversary is just around the corner, and for the first time in weeks, you have something to look forward to. Something that, surely, he wouldn’t forget.

You let out a slow breath, staring at the untouched dinner on the table. It’s the third time this week you’ve set two plates, only to eat alone. The food has long gone cold, but you still can’t bring yourself to clear it away. Some foolish, desperate part of you still hopes Jungkook will walk through the door, pulling you into his arms, murmuring apologies against your skin.

But the door stays closed. Your phone stays silent.

You check the time—almost midnight.

He used to call. Even when he was busy, he always found a way to let you know he was thinking about you. A quick text. A voice note. Something. Now, hours pass without a word, and you’re left wondering when exactly you started feeling like a ghost in your own marriage.

You clench your fists, blinking back the sting in your eyes. This isn’t you. You don’t doubt him. You don’t overthink things. But these days, love feels a lot like waiting, and waiting feels a lot like breaking.

And you’re so damn tired of breaking.

You close your eyes, trying to remember the Jungkook from before, before work took over, before the distance set in. The man who, despite his quiet nature, always found a way to make you feel cherished. He wasn’t one for grand speeches, but his words had always carried weight. Small, simple confessions once meant everything. Now, silence is all you get.

It wasn’t always easy with Jungkook. Back in college, he was cold, reserved, a storm you could never quite predict. But little by little, he let you in. His love had been careful, deliberate, whispered promises in the dark, stolen glances across crowded rooms, fingertips brushing against yours like a secret only the two of you understood.

And now, it feels like you’re losing him.

The thought sends a sharp ache through your chest. You tell yourself it’s just work, that the weight of being CEO is heavier than either of you expected. That he still loves you, even if he doesn’t say it as often.

But love isn’t supposed to feel like this.

The clock hits midnight.

You don’t know what you were expecting. A text? A call? Maybe the sound of the front door unlocking, Jungkook stepping in, exhausted but still managing to hold you close?

But there’s nothing.

Your throat tightens as you stare at the small cake sitting on the dining table, the frosting slightly uneven, the decorations a little clumsy. You were never a good cook. Jungkook knew that better than anyone. But in the early days of your marriage, you had tried. Because back then, cooking together had been something special. Flour-dusted fingertips, shared laughter over burnt pancakes, stolen kisses between stirring batter.

So tonight, with him too busy and too stressed, you thought a quiet, cozy celebration would be enough. Something small, something just for the two of you.

But now, looking at the untouched dinner, the unlit candle, and the cake that no longer seems worth eating, you realize how foolish that hope was.

You glance at your phone—no messages, no missed calls.

You put away the plates. You put the cake in the fridge, even though you know it’ll probably stay there, forgotten.

And then you crawl into bed alone, wrapping your arms around yourself because if Jungkook won’t hold you, who else will?

----

You stir, feeling the warmth of an arm lazily draped around your stomach. The weight is familiar, and for a moment it feels like everything is okay.

Jungkook is still asleep. Shirtless, his toned chest rises and falls in steady breaths, his face soft in the morning light. His dark lashes cast faint shadows on his skin, and his lips parted just slightly, making him look so much younger, so much more at peace.

You take your time looking at him, memorizing the exhaustion on his face, the faint crease between his brows even in sleep. He must’ve come home late—so late that you hadn’t even heard him.

Still, he’s here. Beside you. And that alone is enough to make something flicker in your chest.

Maybe he’s planned to stay home today.

Of course he remembers.

You can’t help but lean in, pressing a soft, loving kiss against his cheek. His skin is warm beneath your lips, and for a fleeting moment, everything feels like it used to.

Jungkook mumbles something incoherent, his brows knitting slightly before relaxing again. A small, sleepy noise escapes him, and the sound makes you giggle softly.

He stirs, his grip on your waist tightening just a little before his lashes flutter open. His dark eyes, still hazy with sleep, land on you, and for a second, there’s nothing but quiet warmth in them.

"You're up early," he murmurs, his voice thick with drowsiness. His thumb absentmindedly brushes over your waist, a touch so familiar yet so foreign all at once.

You smile, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. "Couldn't sleep much," you admit softly.

Jungkook hums in response, his eyes falling shut again for a moment. He nuzzles into the pillow, his grip on you still firm like he has no intention of letting you go. And for a brief, fragile second, the weight of last night, of the distance, of everything, seems to disappear.

Maybe he really did plan to stay home today. Maybe this morning means something.

Your heart clenches with the smallest trace of hope.

Jungkook lets out a long breath and shifts onto his back, stretching his arms above his head before blindly reaching for his phone on the nightstand. His warmth leaves your side, the air turning cold almost instantly.

You watch as his expression shifts, sleep slipping away as his screen lights up. His brows furrow, jaw tightening ever so slightly.

Then, with barely a glance in your direction, he mutters, "Shit, I need to get to the office."

The hope you held onto so desperately?

Gone.

You blink, your mind scrambling to catch up.

Maybe he's kidding. Maybe this is just one of his teasing games, the kind where he acts all nonchalant just to catch you off guard later. That’s how it used to be. Him pretending to forget something important, only to turn around and surprise you in a way that left you breathless.

So you wait.

You wait for the smirk to tug at his lips, for him to toss his phone aside and pull you into his arms. You wait for him to kiss you insane, to murmur a husky "Happy anniversary, baby," against your skin.

You wait for him to prove you wrong.

But he doesn't.

Jungkook swings his legs over the bed, rubbing a hand down his face before standing up. He moves through the motions—grabbing a fresh shirt from the dresser, checking his notifications again, already half-immersed in whatever work emergency is pulling him away.

The realization settles in. suffocating. He’s not playing. He’s not pretending. He really forgot.

And with that, the last flicker of hope inside you dies.

----

The sound of the bathroom door clicking shut barely registers in your mind. The faint rush of water follows soon after, but you’re still frozen in place, staring at the empty space where Jungkook was just moments ago.

Your fingers grip the sheets as you try to process it, try to make sense of the ache settling deep in your chest.

He forgot.

The thought circles endlessly, refusing to fade. It should be simple, just a mistake, something easily fixed with an apology. But it doesn’t feel simple. It feels like another crack in something that’s already been fragile for weeks.

Your gaze drifts to your phone, the screen lighting up with messages from friends and family. Warm wishes, sweet texts. All reminders of the day that Jungkook should have been the first to acknowledge. And of course, they must have messaged him too.

But you know the answer before you even have to question it. Jungkook has two phones—one for work, one for personal use. And these days, his personal phone sits untouched, collecting dust somewhere in the house while his work phone never leaves his side.

Your throat tightens.

Even if someone did remind him, would he have even seen it? Would it have even mattered?

You swallow hard, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes.

Maybe you should say something. Maybe you should remind him.

But a part of you, one that you don’t want to acknowledge—wonders if it even matters anymore.

You push yourself up from the bed, the weight in your chest making it harder than it should be. You don’t want to sit here, waiting for him to remember, waiting for an apology that might never come.

So you move. Just as you step toward the bathroom, the shower turns off. The door opens a moment later, as Jungkook steps out, towel slung low around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his toned chest.

For a brief second, your eyes meet. He looks at you, blinking away the last remnants of sleep, his expression unreadable. There’s no sign of realization, no flicker of guilt or hesitation. Just the same tired, distracted gaze you’ve been seeing for weeks.

You say nothing. Instead, you walk past him, entering the washroom to go about your usual routine. brushing your teeth, washing your face, anything to avoid the tightness in your throat.

The sound of the sink running is the only thing filling the silence between you.

By the time you step out of the washroom, Jungkook is already dressed for work. His tie is slightly loosened, one hand adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves while the other holds his ever-present work phone. He looks like he’s in a hurry, but that isn’t surprising. He’s been having breakfast at the office for weeks now—always rushing out, always too busy.

Still, you can’t grasp that he’s actually forgotten.

Some part of you still expects him to pause, to turn around and say something. But he doesn’t. He’s focused on his screen, scanning through emails like today is just another ordinary morning.

Your chest tightens. You need to look away before the emotions creeping up inside you spill over. So, you pretend.

You settle at the table, opening your laptop like it’s just another workday. Since you’ve been working from home for the past couple of months, this isn’t unusual—but today, it’s not about work. It’s about avoiding him. About keeping your head down so he doesn’t see the way your hands tremble slightly.

If you act normal, maybe it’ll hurt less. Maybe you won’t break in front of him.

And maybe, just maybe, if you pretend hard enough, you can fool yourself into believing it doesn’t hurt at all.

“Baby, can you help me with the tie?”

His voice is smooth- like every other morning before this one. Like today isn’t supposed to mean more.

You hesitate for half a second before standing up, walking towards him. Your fingers move automatically, looping the fabric, tightening the knot, straightening it against his crisp shirt. You should pull away the moment you’re done, return to your seat, to your laptop, to pretending like everything is fine.

But just as you step back, Jungkook’s hand catches your wrist.

Before you can react, he tugs you closer, his warmth enveloping you as his large hand cups the side of your face, fingers splayed against your skin like he’s memorizing the feel of you. His touch is tender, his thumb tracing slow circles against your cheek, his dark eyes holding yours for a beat too long. like he’s seeing you, really seeing you, for the first time in days.

Then, he kisses you.

Warm & lingering. Like he actually means it. Like he actually feels it.

“Need it for good luck,” he mumbles lovingly against your lips, his voice deep, hushed.

You blink up at him.

Jungkook pulls back slightly, offering a small smile. “Big deal with the Kims today.”

And just like that, reality crashes back in.

Your mind struggles to process, to understand how he can be like this. How can he kiss you like this and still not remember.

His mind is somewhere else. His thoughts, his focus—none of it is here. None of it is with you.

You force a smile, nodding wordlessly. Because what else is there to say?

----

Jungkook moves around the house, gathering his things- his wallet, his keys. You stay where you are, settled on the couch with your laptop open, pretending to be busy, pretending that your heart isn’t sitting heavy in your chest.

Just as he’s about to leave, he steps toward you, bending down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Love you,” he murmurs.

Before you can even respond, he’s already halfway through the living room, his focus elsewhere, his steps hurried.

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop it.

You remember a time when things were different. When he used to whine, pout, and nudge you relentlessly if you didn’t say it back right away, just to tease him.

Flashback

The movie playing in the background had long been forgotten, the dialogue drowned out by the soft moans slipping from your lips. The purple neon glow cast dreamy hues across the living room, painting Jungkook’s skin in shades of violet as he moved above you.

His fingers laced tightly with yours, grip tightening slightly as his thrusts grew more desperate.

“J-Jungkook…” you moaned softly, nails digging into his hand.

He groaned against your neck, his breath hot, voice wrecked. “Fuck, baby…”

Your body arched beneath him, pleasure building to something uncontrollable. “I—I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, baby,” he urged, voice deep and rough, sending you tumbling over the edge.

You both unraveled together, gasping, shaking, holding onto each other like the world outside didn’t exist.

Jungkook pressed lazy, loving kisses all over your face, his lips brushing over your cheeks, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. “You alright?” he whispered.

You nodded, a sleepy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. But then he just stared at you. A little too long. A little too intensely.

And then, barely above a whisper, like a secret meant only for you—he said, “I love you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, a playful grin tugging at the corner of your lips as you bit down on them, trying to contain your smile. He’d been saying it more often lately, slowly getting used to voicing what he felt.

But when you took a second too long to respond, he groaned dramatically, dropping his head into the crook of your neck like a kicked puppy.

“Say it back,” he grumbled.

“What?” you teased, laughing.

Jungkook huffed, then playfully bit down on your shoulder, just enough to make you squeal.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice muffled against your skin.

Still giggling, you cupped his face and pressed a soft kiss to his nose. “I love you, you big baby.”

His grin was instant, arms wrapping around you as he pulled you even closer, like he could never get enough.

End of Flashback

Now, he just says it in passing. quick, thoughtless, already moving on.

The front door clicks shut, and just like that, Jungkook is gone.

You sit there, fingers motionless on your laptop’s keyboard as the weight of what just happened settles deep in your chest. He forgot. He kissed you, held you, told you he loved you, but none of it was because he remembered.

Is this what your relationship has become?

Work, work, work. Always work.

It’s not that you expect Jungkook to run behind you all the time, to ditch his responsibilities just to shower you with affection. Hell, you supported him through everything- through college, through late nights chasing his dreams, through every stressful moment leading up to him becoming CEO. You believed in him.

But what about your love? Your marriage? Communication?

You’ve been patient. Too patient. more understanding than any normal wife would be. And you know Jungkook. You know he loves you, would bring you the whole damn world if you asked. But then why—why are you beginning to question it all?

Jungkook stepped into the CEO position a few months ago. At first, things were fine. He handled it well, still made time for you. But then… everything became about work. Slowly, then all at once.

You can’t even remember the last time you had truly loving sex. Not that Jungkook doesn’t love you but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. There’s tension in his touch, frustration in the way he moves against you. It’s not the warmth, the desperation to be close to you like it used to be.

Is this how life is going to be from now on?

Sure, you could talk to Jungkook about your feelings. Tell him that the distance is starting to feel unbearable.

But when?

When he’s always checking his phone? When he barely even looks at you in the mornings? When you feel like you’re living with the CEO rather than your husband?

Well, happy anniversary to you.

----

Your gaze drops to your hand, to the delicate band wrapped around your finger.

Your wedding ring.

For the first time in a long time, you really look at it- tracing the intricate details, the subtle shimmer in the morning light. And suddenly, it feels… heavier. Like you’re only noticing the weight of it now, as if it’s trying to remind you of everything it once meant.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, your fingers slip beneath the band, sliding it off. It’s only when the cool air brushes against your bare skin that it hits you.

Your breath catches, eyes widening at the sight of the ring resting in your palm. You hadn’t even thought about it—you just did it. And now, staring at the small, beautiful piece of jewelry, something inside you cracks. Tears gather before you can stop them.

Jungkook had spent weeks searching for this ring. Dragged you to countless jewelry stores, analyzing every cut, every design, obsessed with finding the perfect one. And no matter how many times you had told him that anything would make you happy, he had refused to settle for less.

"It has to be special," he had murmured against your temple the day he finally found it, slipping it onto your finger with the softest smile. "Because you’re special."

A broken sob escapes your throat as you clutch the ring tightly in your palm.

How did you end up here?

----

Jungkook leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he watches the final contract details appear on his screen. The deal with the Kims had gone smoothly, better than expected, actually. It should’ve been a moment of satisfaction, of relief.

Instead, he just drowns himself in more work.

The hours blur together, his coffee going cold beside him as he moves from one task to another. Another meeting. Another report. Another email. The same routine, the same cycle.

It’s later than evening when a familiar voice interrupts the quiet hum of his office.

“So you’re really here.”

Jungkook glances up, his fingers still typing as Taehyung steps into his cabin, arms crossed, a deep frown on his face.

“Hey, hyung,” Jungkook greets, barely looking away from his screen.

Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head playfully. “I really didn’t believe it when Yuna said you were still in your cabin.”

Jungkook blinks, confused. “Why?”

Taehyung gives him a look like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Y/N must really love you to let you work even today. My wife—dude, she would’ve killed me.”

Jungkook hums absentmindedly, still typing, still lost in work. “Mmm.”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, watching him for a second before letting out a chuckle. “Anyways, you’re still an asshole for working on your anniversary.”

Jungkook’s fingers freeze over the keyboard. The realization crashes into him all at once, like a punch to the gut, like ice spreading through his veins.

Fuck.

Jungkook’s fingers hover motionless over the keyboard.

His mind races to catch up with Taehyung’s words, but they don’t make sense. Not right away.

Anniversary?

No, that can’t be right. His brows furrow slightly as he glances at the date on his laptop screen.

November 22.

His wedding anniversary.

For a second, he just stares, as if the numbers might shift into something else, something that doesn’t prove what an absolute idiot he’s been. His heartbeat picks up, but his body doesn’t move. It’s like his brain refuses to register it fully, like if he doesn’t react, it won’t be real.

He’d forgotten.

Completely.

No hints, no reminders, no last-minute realization before heading out this morning. Just an entire day of emails, meetings, and a deal he had been so damn focused on that he hadn’t even spared a single thought for you.

His wife.

But—no, that can’t be right. He would’ve remembered. He should’ve remembered.

His jaw tightens, his mind scrambling for some excuse, some reason. anything to justify how this happened. But no matter how many ways he tries to twist it, the truth doesn’t change.

You had expected something. Of course you had. And Jungkook had given you nothing.

Taehyung’s voice barely registers now, his casual teasing just background noise to the way Jungkook’s pulse is starting to hammer against his ribs.

His wife. His love. His anniversary.

And he had let it pass him by like it was just another day.

How the fuck is he supposed to fix this?

Taehyung squints at Jungkook, waiting for some kind of reaction. When Jungkook stays quiet, his fingers frozen over the keyboard, Taehyung lets out a sharp laugh.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He leans forward, palms flat on Jungkook’s desk. “You just realized, didn’t you?”

Jungkook inhales deeply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Hyung, not now.”

“Oh, no. Especially now,” Taehyung shoots back, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Y/N must really love you to put up with this shit.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, his mind already spiraling. He checks the time—late. The entire day is gone. He’s spent hours sitting here, drowning himself in work while you—

Fuck.

He pushes his chair back abruptly, grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pocket. His coat is next, yanked from the back of his chair as he moves on instinct.

“Whoa, whoa.” Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “So now you care?”

Jungkook levels him with a glare, his voice lower, sharper. “Hyung.”

Taehyung lifts his hands in surrender, though his smirk lingers. “Go. Try not to get divorced on your second anniversary.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for another word. He’s already out the door, moving faster than he has all day.

And for the first time today, work is the last thing on his mind.

----

Jungkook’s mind races as he grips the steering wheel, his fingers tightening with every passing second. The city lights blur past, but all he can focus on is the suffocating weight in his chest.

How the fuck did he forget?

His phone vibrates in the passenger seat- probably another work email but for the first time in months, he ignores it. Instead, he swipes through his contacts, pressing the first name that comes to mind.

“Pick up, pick up,” he mutters, jaw clenched as the dial tone rings.

“Yes, Mr.Jeon?”

“Yuna.” His voice is rushed, urgent. “I need you to get me something. Flowers. A gift. Something big—just—fuck, anything.”

A pause. “Sir?”

“Now,” he snaps.

There’s a shuffle on the other end before his assistant hesitantly speaks again. “I…Mr.Jeon, it’s almost 10 p.m. Most places are closed.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. Of course they are. Because he’s too fucking late.

His grip tightens around the wheel. “Just—check. Call whoever. I’ll pay whatever.”

“Understood,” Yuna replies before hanging up.

What the fuck is he even doing?

No expensive gift, no overpriced bouquet, no last-minute grand gesture can erase the fact that he forgot. That he spent an entire day drowning in work while you—his wife, his love, the woman who has stood by him through everything—sat at home, waiting for him to remember.

His hands clench the wheel.

How much had he missed? How much had he ignored?

And the worst part—the part that makes his pulse spike, that has panic clawing at his ribs is the question he doesn’t have an answer to.

What if you’re done waiting?

Jungkook slams his foot down on the gas.

He’s not losing you. He won’t.

----

Jungkook steps into the house, and immediately, something feels off. The air is still. The silence stretches, suffocating, pressing against his chest. Almost all the lights are off, the space eerily empty, like no one has been here for hours.

His throat dries. “Baby?”

No answer.

He frowns, dropping his keys onto the counter with a sharp clink. His feet move quickly, checking the kitchen, the living room, even the hallway leading to the bedroom. nothing.

A weird feeling starts creeping up his spine. His heart beats faster as he strides toward the bedroom door, only to find the bed untouched, the sheets exactly the way he had left them this morning.

You’re not here.

His pulse spikes, a cold sweat forming at the base of his neck. His hands tremble as he yanks his phone out, immediately dialing your number.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three.

Straight to voicemail.

His stomach drops. A shaky breath escapes him as he stares at his screen, the call log mocking him with the lack of response. His fingers tighten around the device, his mind spiraling.

Where are you? At this time of night, alone- where could you have gone?

The walls feel like they’re closing in on him. His lungs strain for air.

Then, another thought claws its way in, violent and unwelcome.

Did you leave?

No. No. His chest tightens, his breath coming faster now. That’s not—that’s not possible. You wouldn’t just leave him. You wouldn’t—

He swallows hard, shaking his head. Don’t go there, Jungkook. Don’t even fucking go there.

But the panic is already curling around his ribs, suffocating, unrelenting.

You’re not here. And right now, that is the worst fucking thing in the world.

Jungkook’s fingers tremble as he redials your number.

Voicemail. Again.

“Fuck.” His breath comes out uneven, panic clawing at his throat. His hands are clammy, his chest tightening with every passing second. Where are you?

His mind is spiraling now, every worst-case scenario flashing through his head. His jaw clenches as he swipes to his contact list calling your friends.

Each time, the same response.

No, I haven’t seen her.

Did you check with—

Wait, what’s going on?

Jungkook grits his teeth, his hand tightening into a fist. His breathing is shallow, his pulse out of control. You weren’t with your friends. You weren’t picking up. You weren’t home.

And he still had no idea where you were.

Jungkook grabs his car keys with shaky hands, his mind racing. He doesn’t know where to go, doesn’t have a plan. All he knows is that he has to find you.

His feet move on instinct, carrying him toward the door. But just as he reaches for the handle, something catches his eye.

A small glint.

His breath stills. His gaze shifts toward the couch, and that’s when he sees it.

Your wedding ring.

Sitting there. Abandoned.

For a moment, everything stops. The pounding in his chest, the rush of his movements—everything.

The air in the room feels heavier, suffocating. His fingers twitch at his sides as he stares at the delicate band, his stomach twisting into something painful.

You never took it off. Never.

Jungkook swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He steps forward, slowly, almost cautiously, like touching it will somehow make this nightmare real.

His hand trembles as he picks it up, the cool metal pressing into his palm..

Jungkook stares at the ring in his palm, his vision blurring as a lump lodges itself in his throat. Tears burn at the corners of his eyes, his chest tightening painfully.

You wouldn’t just leave him like that… would you?

The thought alone knocks the air from his lungs. His grip on the ring tightens as his mind spirals, drowning in questions that only make the ache worse.

Were you thinking about this before today?

How long have you been feeling like this, so alone, so unloved that taking off your ring even crossed your mind?

A sharp breath escapes him, shaky and uneven. His knees buckle, and before he can stop himself, he’s sinking onto the floor, the weight of everything crashing down at once.

The ring feels heavier than it should, pressing into his palm like a cruel reminder of everything he’s neglected, everything he’s taken for granted. He squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling a slow, trembling breath.

He needs to find you. He needs to fix this.

Before it’s too late.

Jungkook exhales shakily, forcing himself to move. His legs feel unsteady, but he pushes through, gripping the wedding ring so tightly it bites into his skin.

Somehow, he manages to stand, his entire body tense with desperation. He stumbles toward the door, his heart pounding, his mind racing with every possibility of where you could be.

But just as his fingers reach for the handle—

The door swings open.

And there you are.

Jungkook freezes, his breath catching in his throat. For a split second, everything stills. His panic, his thoughts, his entire world narrowing to the sight of you standing in front of him.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he moves.

He crashes into you, arms wrapping around you so tightly it nearly knocks the air from your lungs. His grip is desperate, his hands fisting into your clothes, his entire body pressing against yours like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You stand there, stunned, your own arms hovering slightly, unsure of what just happened.

"…Jungkook?” your voice comes out confused, hesitant.

But he just clings to you, burying his face into your neck, his breath warm and uneven against your skin.

You don’t know what’s going on.

But Jungkook?

He feels like he just got his heart beating again. You feel the way his body trembles against yours, his grip impossibly tight, like he’s holding onto you for dear life.

Then, the sound reaches you. A broken, uneven breath, followed by the unmistakable hitch of a sob.

Your heart clenches. “Kook…” Your voice is soft, laced with worry as you try to pull back, just enough to see his face. But he doesn’t let you. His arms only tighten, his body curling into yours, as if letting go would physically hurt him.

Panic bubbles in your chest, your hands instinctively reaching up to cradle his face, your fingers threading into his hair. “Hey… what happened?” Your voice wavers slightly. “Are you okay? You’re scaring me.”

But Jungkook just shakes his head against your shoulder, another quiet, shaky breath leaving him.

You don’t understand.

But whatever this is, whatever’s breaking him like this—your own heart aches just watching him fall apart. Your concern deepens with every shaky breath that leaves Jungkook. He’s still clinging to you, his body trembling slightly, his face buried against your shoulder like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t know what’s wrong, but seeing him like this—Jungkook, your Jungkook—completely unraveling, is enough to make panic rise in your chest.

Gently, you pull back, your hands cupping his face. His skin is warm, slightly damp from his tears, and when his glassy eyes finally meet yours, your stomach twists painfully.

“Come inside,” you whisper, your voice softer now, coaxing. “Please.”

He swallows thickly, nodding ever so slightly, but his grip on you doesn’t fully loosen. You guide him inside anyway, one hand wrapped around his wrist as you lead him toward the couch.

He sits down heavily, elbows resting on his knees, fingers threading through his hair as he exhales shakily. His shoulders are still tense, his whole body radiating something raw and unspoken.

You kneel in front of him, reaching for his hands, but he doesn’t lift his head.

Your worry deepens. “Jungkook… please tell me what’s wrong.” Silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating. His fingers twitch against his temples, his breath uneven.

“I—” His voice is hoarse, cracking slightly. He swallows hard, gripping his knees. “I thought you left me.”

You blink, his words settling in, but it takes you a moment to fully process them.

He thought you left him?

Your brows furrow slightly as you shake your head. “Jungkook, I was babysitting Hanuel.”

His breath is still uneven, his hands gripping his knees like he’s trying to ground himself. His eyes flick up to meet yours, confused, searching.

“Hana and Seokjin had a date night,” you explain gently. “They asked me to watch him for a few hours.”

Hanuel, your neighbour's son. Jungkook stares at you, his body still tense, like his mind hasn’t caught up yet. You watch as his lips part slightly, his gaze flickering between you and the ring still clutched in his hand.

His fingers tighten around it, his knuckles paling. A beat of silence passes before he swallows thickly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“…Then why was this on the couch?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, fragile and uncertain, as if he’s afraid of the answer. And for the first time tonight, you don’t know what to say.

“I…” The word barely escapes your lips before you stand up, turning away from him. You can’t meet his eyes, not when your emotions are still raw, not when the weight of everything is pressing so heavily on your chest.

Jungkook notices immediately. Panic flickers across his face, and in an instant, he’s scrambling up after you. “Wait—baby, please.” His voice is desperate now, thick with emotion, his hands reaching out like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, stepping closer, his tone cracking under the weight of his own guilt. “I—fuck, I forgot—I don’t know how, I don’t even have an excuse, but—” He exhales sharply, shaking his head, his eyes glassy as they plead with yours.

“I never meant to make you feel like this,” he whispers. “I swear, I didn’t.” But you still don’t look at him. And that alone is enough to make his heart sink.

You swallow hard, your arms wrapping around yourself as you stare at the floor. His words, his desperation, his guilt—they all swirl around you, but they don’t erase the ache in your chest.

“Do you even realize how much this hurt?” Your voice is quiet, but the weight of it makes Jungkook flinch. “I spent the entire day thinking—hoping—that maybe you had something planned. That maybe you were just pretending to forget.”

Jungkook’s throat bobs as he steps closer, hesitating before reaching for your hand. You don’t pull away, but you don’t hold onto him either.

“I know,” he whispers. “I know I fucked up, baby. I—I was so caught up in work, I just…” He trails off, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “That’s not an excuse. Nothing is. I should’ve remembered. I should’ve been there.”

You let out a hollow laugh, finally lifting your gaze to meet his. “Jungkook… this isn’t just about today.”

His brows furrow, but he doesn’t interrupt.

You take a shaky breath. “It’s been weeks..maybe even longer—since I felt like your wife instead of just… someone waiting for you to come home.” Your voice wavers, but you push through. “And it’s not that I don’t understand. I do. I’ve always understood. But at what point do I stop being understanding and start being invisible to you?”

Jungkook’s breath catches, his grip on your hand tightening like he’s afraid to let go. “You’re not invisible,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “You never could be.”

“Then why do I feel like I am?”

Silence.

Jungkook shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he exhales unsteadily. “I never wanted to make you feel this way,” he murmurs. “You are everything to me, baby. Everything. I don’t even know who I am without you.”

Your eyes sting, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “Then show me, Jungkook. Because I can’t keep being the only one fighting for us.” The vulnerability in your voice nearly breaks him.

He’s been losing you, piece by piece, for a while now. And he hadn’t even noticed.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop, the weight of your words hitting harder than any argument, any fight you could have thrown at him. His grip on your hand tightens, but you don’t squeeze back.

He’s losing you.

And it’s not because of one forgotten anniversary—it’s because he hasn’t been here.

He swallows hard. “Baby…” His voice cracks, his free hand reaching up to cup your cheek, but you step back before he can touch you.

The distance, however small, is enough to make his chest ache.

“Tell me, Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice barely holding together. “When was the last time we sat down and had breakfast together? When was the last time you really looked at me—not just kissed me on the forehead before rushing out the door?” You shake your head, a bitter chuckle escaping. “When was the last time we made love without it feeling like you were trying to release your stress instead of loving me?”

Jungkook’s breath hitches.

You let out a slow exhale, your voice calmer now but even heavier with hurt. “I don’t need grand gestures. I don’t need fancy gifts or a picture-perfect romance. I just… needed you to see me.”

His entire body feels cold. Because the truth is—he doesn’t have an answer.

He’s been so caught up in his responsibilities, his work, his stress, that he’s let the one person who has always been there for him slip through his fingers.

And the worst part? He didn’t even realize it was happening until now.

“Fuck.” His voice is raw, his hands running through his hair as he looks at you, really looks at you. At the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your lips tremble slightly like you’re holding back everything.

His heart clenches painfully. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you hold his gaze for a long moment before whispering, “I don’t know, Jungkook. Did you?”

Jungkook's breath is unsteady, his chest rising and falling too quickly as he stares at you, at the distance between you, the weight of your words suffocating him.

He moves. Before you can react, his hands are cupping your face, his touch desperate, almost shaky. His forehead presses against yours as he exhales a trembling breath, like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I see you,” he whispers, his voice raw, strained. “I swear to god, I see you, baby. I just..I lost myself somewhere along the way, and I didn’t even realize I was dragging us down with me.”

His thumbs brush over your cheekbones, a silent plea laced in his touch. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your heart clenches, but you don’t push him away. You should- you should make him sit with this, make him feel what it’s been like for you all this time. But then his grip tightens, his voice breaking.

“Please, baby.” His lips hover just above yours, not quite touching, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me it’s not too late.”

His vulnerability shakes you to your core.

You close your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t want to lose us either, Jungkook,” you whisper. “But I can’t keep being the only one holding on.”

Jungkook shakes his head instantly. “You’re not. You won’t be.” His lips ghost over your forehead before he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “Let me prove it to you. Please.”

His desperation is tangible, seeping into every word, every touch. And for the first time tonight, you wonder if maybe, just maybe—he really does see you now.

Jungkook watches you, searching for something—anything in your eyes that tells him he hasn’t completely lost you.

Before doubt can settle in, he takes your hand, pressing it over his chest, right where his heart is hammering wildly. “Feel that?” he whispers. “That’s what you do to me, baby. Always.”

Your fingers twitch against his shirt, but you don’t pull away. You don’t move at all, just staring up at him, your expression unreadable.

He swallows hard. “I know I don’t say it enough. I know I don’t show it enough, but fuck, Y/n—” His hands tighten around yours, his voice barely above a breath. “There is nothing in this world that matters more to me than you.”

You let out a slow exhale, your gaze flickering, like you want to believe him. like a part of you does, but the hurt is still too fresh. So he gives you more.

“I’ll fix this,” he promises, his thumb brushing soft circles over your wrist. “Not with flowers, or gifts, or some last-minute bullshit—but with me. With us.”

His voice drops lower, thick with emotion. “Just tell me it’s not too late.” Your lips part slightly, but you don’t speak. Instead, you finally—finally press your palm flat against his chest, feeling the way his heart beats erratically beneath your touch.

It’s enough to break something inside Jungkook. His grip tightens as he leans in, his lips brushing against your temple, then your cheek—slow, hesitant, as if he’s still afraid you’ll slip away.

And when you don’t, when you let him, he exhales a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours once more.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Like if he says it enough, he can make up for all the times he didn’t. And maybe, just maybe—you’ll believe him again.

Jungkook’s breath is warm against your skin, his forehead still pressed against yours, his grip on you unwavering. His words linger in the air between you. raw, desperate, filled with a love that had always been there, even when he’d failed to show it.

You swallow hard, blinking against the tears clouding your vision. He’s waiting—watching you so intently, so hopelessly, as if your next words will either put him back together or completely shatter him.

You take a shaky breath. “Jungkook…” Your voice wavers, and his grip tightens instinctively. “I love you too.”

A sharp exhale leaves him, his entire body sinking slightly in relief. But before he can say anything, you continue. “But this hurt,” you whisper. “More than you realize.”

Jungkook stiffens, nodding quickly, his hands cupping your face again, his thumbs brushing away the tears that slip down your cheeks. “I know, baby. I know. And I hate myself for it.” His voice cracks, his jaw clenching before he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

You let your eyes flutter shut for a second, exhaling slowly. “I don’t want promises, Jungkook,” you murmur. “I just… I need to feel like I matter to you again.”

His hands tremble slightly as they slide down, wrapping around yours. He lifts them to his lips, pressing gentle, reverent kisses to each of your knuckles, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

“You do,” he whispers. “More than anything. And I’m going to spend every damn day proving that to you.” His voice is steady now. no hesitation, no doubt. Just quiet, determined love. And though the ache in your chest hasn’t fully faded, something shifts.

Because this time, you don’t just hear him. You believe him. Even if just a little.

Jungkook presses another lingering kiss against your knuckles, his touch reverent, as if grounding himself in you. But before he can lose himself completely, you gently murmur, “Have you eaten?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He shakes his head, gaze still searching yours. “No… I—"

“Go freshen up,” you say softly, stepping back just a little. “We’ll eat together.”

His fingers twitch against yours, hesitating to let go, but eventually, he nods. With one last glance—like he’s making sure you’re really here, he pulls away and heads toward the shower.

While he’s gone, you move to the kitchen, setting out dinner in quiet contemplation. The ache in your chest hasn’t completely faded, but there’s something else now- a warmth that wasn’t there before.

----

By the time Jungkook emerges, hair damp, dressed in a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants, you’ve already placed the food on the table.

He hesitates for only a second before joining you, sliding into his chair. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice softer now.

You nod, offering a small smile as you take a seat. The conversation is light, effortless. Jungkook fills the silence, stealing glances at you like he’s still memorizing you all over again. And through it all, his hand never leaves yours, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin.

After dinner, he helps with the dishes, working beside you in quiet understanding. The air between you feels lighter, yet still fragile, like something delicate being pieced back together.

Jungkook sets the last dish onto the drying rack, wiping his hands on the towel before turning to you. There’s a soft, almost hopeful look in his eyes, like he’s clinging to this moment.

You step away, hesitating for just a second before opening the refrigerator. Jungkook watches in silence as you carefully pull out the cake, placing on the counter, your fingers grazing the edges of the plate, before finally speaking.

“I…I’d made this.”

The words are quiet, but they hit harder than any raised voice ever could. Jungkook’s entire body stiffening as guilt crashes into him all over again. His eyes flicker to the cake- to the careful details, the effort, the thought you had put into it, for him. And suddenly, it feels like the walls are caving in.

His throat tightens. His fingers curl at his sides. He can’t look at you. He doesn’t deserve to. Tears gather in his eyes, blurring his vision, his heart breaking all over again, not just because he forgot today, but because he had broken you in so many ways without even realizing it.

And that? That’s something he doesn’t know how to forgive himself for.

“Jungkook..”, your voice barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the heavy silence like a knife.

He wants to look at you, wants to say something—anything, but he can’t. His head remains bowed, his hands gripping the edge of the counter, as if holding himself together takes everything in him.

You take a small step forward, the space between you feeling larger than it actually is. His silence is deafening.

“Jungkook,” you say again, a little firmer this time.

His lips part, a shaky breath slipping through, but no words come out. He wants to speak, to apologize again, to tell you how much he loves you, to somehow fix this- but his throat feels tight, his chest heavy.

He doesn’t know if words are enough.

“I… I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” Jungkook chokes out, his voice trembling as he finally speaks. His hands shake at his sides, his eyes still glassy with unshed tears. “I’ve been an asshole—a terrible husband. I don’t even know how to make this right.” His breath stutters, his words spilling out faster now, raw and desperate.

“I wouldn’t even be surprised if you left me,” he continues, shaking his head. “You should’ve. You deserve better. I—I can’t believe I—”

“Jungkook.”

You don’t let him finish.

Instead, you reach up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that have already begun to fall. His lips part in surprise, his rambling cut off as you rise onto your toes.

A gentle kiss on his lips.

Soft. Loving.

Tear-streaked and real.

Jungkook exhales shakily against your lips, his whole body melting into yours. His hands find your waist, holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him upright.

The kiss is slow, there's no desperation, no urgency. Just you and him, emotions bare. Tears continue to slip down your cheeks, mixing with his, salty and warm, but neither of you pull away. Because in this moment, there’s no need for words.

Just this.

Just love.

When you finally pull away, your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing heavily, your tears still wet against each other’s skin. Jungkook’s grip on your waist is firm, like he’s grounding himself in your touch, afraid to let go. His lips part, like he wants to speak, but before he can, you whisper,

“You’re not a terrible husband, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s eyes glisten with more unshed tears, his lips pressing into a thin line, unable to speak. You wipe his tears away with your thumbs, offering him the smallest smile. “Just… love me better, okay?”

His throat bobs as he swallows hard, nodding again, more determined this time. “I will.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you believe him.

You press one last gentle kiss to his cheek before stepping back, glancing at the cake still sitting on the counter. “Come on,” you say, nudging him lightly. “Let’s cut this before it melts.”

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, wiping at his face as he nods. He steps beside you, his hand instinctively finding yours again as you both move toward the small cake. The two of you cut into it together, Jungkook’s fingers lacing through yours around the knife handle. He doesn’t let go, even as you both take small bites in comfortable silence.

Once the plates are cleared, you tug at his wrist, nodding toward the bedroom. “Come to bed?”

Jungkook exhales, relief washing over his features as he nods. “Yeah.”

A few minutes later, you’re both under the covers, warmth surrounding you as Jungkook pulls you against his chest. His arms wrap tightly around you, his breath fanning against the top of your head as he whispers,

“I love you.”

This time, you don’t hesitate to say it back.

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

And for the first time in weeks, you fall asleep in his arms, where you’ve always belonged.

Jungkook’s fingers still tremble against your skin. Even as he holds you, his grip is laced with hesitance, a silent fear lingering beneath the warmth of his touch. It’s in the way his hands press into your back yet remain careful, as if he’s afraid of holding on too tightly.

You can feel the erratic thud of his heart beneath your palm, his breaths uneven, his chest rising and falling as if he’s struggling to keep himself steady.

And something about that, about him—makes your own heart ache.

Slowly, you lift your head from his chest, your eyes locking onto his in the dim glow of the room. His lips part slightly, his gaze unreadable, but the moment you lean in, his breath catches.

You kiss him.

It starts soft, so gentle, full of longing. Filled with everything you can’t put into words.

Jungkook melts into it instantly, his grip on you tightening, pulling you impossibly closer. The warmth of his lips, the slight hitch in his breath when you press harder. it sends a familiar heat curling through you.

The kiss deepens, your fingers gripping his t-shirt with urgency, needing to feel more. It’s desperate, heady, the space between you charged with something deeper than just want—something raw, something that had been missing for too long.

Jungkook pulls back gently. His forehead stays pressed against yours, both of you panting softly, but his hands shake slightly as they hold you in place.

His lips part, his breath uneven. “I… we shouldn’t…” He swallows hard, voice thick with hesitation. “I mean… I don’t want you to think I’m gonna fix this with sex.”

His words cut through the haze of warmth between you, grounding you both back in reality. You understand. Because even now—even now, he’s afraid. Afraid that this isn’t enough. Afraid that he isn’t enough.

Your eyes soften as you take in his hesitance, the uncertainty in his gaze, the way his breath trembles against your skin.

You reach up, your fingers threading gently through his hair. “I’m never gonna think like that, Kook,” you murmur, your voice quiet but sure.

His lips part slightly, his brows still knitted in concern, but before he can say anything, you lean in again. This time, the kiss is softer, filled with nothing but love.

You linger for a moment, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, “I just… I need you.” Another soft kiss. “Please.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, his entire body shuddering under the weight of your words.

And just like that, whatever hesitation he had left—it’s gone.

Your breaths grow uneven as your lips move against his, the heat between you intensifying with every passing second.

Jungkook shifts, his body hovering over yours, his weight pressing down just enough to make you feel him. His hands slip beneath the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing, his touch still hesitant, fingertips ghosting over your waist like he’s memorizing the feel of you all over again.

But you don’t want hesitation.

You tug at his shirt, a silent plea, and Jungkook obeys without question, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Before he can think, you pull him back in, capturing his lips in another deep, hungry kiss.

A quiet groan escapes him, his hands finally exploring freely, pressing against your skin, feeling the warmth beneath his palms. His lips leave yours only to trail down your neck, his breath warm as he presses soft, lingering kisses there.

You shiver when he reaches the collar of your shirt, your own hands moving to help him remove it. Dark, love-filled eyes roam over every inch of your skin, his lips parting slightly, as if he’s trying to find the words but nothing he could say would ever be enough. Still, he tries.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe. “So fucking perfect.”

Your breath catches when he lowers himself again, his lips planting soft, reverent kisses along your collarbone, trailing lower over your shoulder, your chest. Your husband's mouth mapping you like you’re something sacred.

His lips slowly wrap around one breast, his tongue flicking teasingly before sucking softly. A moan escapes you, your fingers tangling into his hair, tugging lightly as he hums against your skin. His other hand moves to your neglected breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak as he keeps mouthing sweet nothings against you.

“You’re everything,” he whispers between kisses, his voice muffled against your skin. “I love you so much, baby.”

And as the heat between you builds, his touch grows bolder. A desperate whimper escapes your lips as your fingers tangle deeper into Jungkook’s hair, your body arching toward him, silently pleading for more.

He groans against your skin, the sound low and warm, vibrating through you. “Patience, baby,” he murmurs, pressing another lingering kiss to your chest before trailing lower, his lips tracing the curves of your body. “Let me take my time… let me make love to you.”

The way he says it, love—makes your stomach tighten, your heart aching as much as your body craves him. His hands glide down your waist, slow and purposeful, before slipping between your legs. His fingers find the damp fabric of your panties, pressing just lightly enough to make you gasp. Your hips lift instinctively, chasing his touch, and Jungkook groans at the feeling.

His dark eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, unable to form words, and that’s all he needs.

Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he tugs your panties down, dragging them slowly along your legs before discarding them somewhere behind him. His gaze never leaves you as he lowers himself further, trailing kisses down your stomach, over the sensitive skin of your hips.

He settles between your legs. You feel completely bare under his intense gaze, the way his lips part slightly, his eyes darkening as he drinks you in.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with something reverent, something devoted. His hands spread your thighs wider, his thumbs brushing along your skin in slow, soothing circles.

“My wife.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, making your core clench in anticipation.

Finally, he closes his mouth around you. One long, slow stroke of his tongue, and you fall apart instantly, a breathless moan slipping from your lips as your head tilts back against the pillows.

Jungkook hums against you, pleased, his hands gripping your thighs as he licks another slow, teasing stripe through your folds. “So fucking sweet,” he groans, the heat of his breath against your slick skin making your body tremble. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

He isn't just making love, he's devouring you.

Jungkook hums against you, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as his tongue moves with slow, deliberate strokes. learning you all over again, savoring every little gasp and shudder that escapes you.

“Jungkook—” Your voice is breathless, almost pleading, your fingers tightening in his hair, tugging him closer.

He groans at that, the sound reverberating through your core as he laps at you with more purpose. His tongue flicks over your clit, teasing, testing, before he sucks gently, making your back arch off the bed.

“Fuck—” You whimper, your thighs threatening to close around his head, but his strong hands keep you spread wide, completely at his mercy.

His lips brushing your sensitive skin as he pulls back just enough to look up at you. His lips are slick, his dark eyes burning with desire.

Your cheeks burn, he dives back in, this time with more urgency. His tongue moves in tight circles, alternating between slow, teasing strokes and deeper, firmer licks that have your breath hitching.

One hand slides up your stomach, fingers splaying across your skin before reaching your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingers. The combined sensation makes your thighs tremble, a moan tearing from your lips as your hips buck against his mouth.

Jungkook groans, clearly enjoying how responsive you are, his grip on you tightening as he eats you out like it’s his last meal. He flicks his tongue over your clit again, then sucks, harder this time, sending sparks shooting through your body.

“-fuck, Jungkook—” Your head tilts back, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure builds, coiling tight in your stomach.

He pulls back just enough to murmur against you, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

The heat inside you is unbearable now, hot and consuming. You nod desperately, your moans spilling freely as you grip his hair, your body teetering on the edge. Jungkook doesn’t stop. He pushes you closer, his mouth working you over with expert precision, his hands holding you steady as your body starts to tremble.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispers against your heat. “Let me taste you.”

And with one final flick of his tongue, you shatter. Pleasure crashes over you, your back arching, thighs trembling as you moan his name like a prayer. Jungkook groans, drinking in everything you give him, his hands stroking your body as he helps you ride it out.

Only when your body goes slack does he finally pull away, pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs, his voice thick with pride and adoration. “You’re so perfect,” he breathes between kisses, his voice thick with adoration. “My love. My wife.”

Jungkook moves up, trailing kisses along your body, over your stomach, your ribs, your collarbone. When he reaches your lips, he captures them in a deep, languid kiss, his hands cradling your face like you’re something fragile, something cherished.

Your fingers roam over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles before moving lower, brushing over his abdomen until you reach the hardness straining against his sweats.

A groan rumbles from his chest at your touch, his hips twitching into your palm as you cup him, feeling just how ready he is.

“Baby…” he breathes against your lips, voice thick with want. You tug at the waistband of his pants, wordlessly asking for more. Jungkook obliges, sitting back just enough to push them down, kicking them off entirely.

He’s fully hard, the sight of him making your stomach tighten, heat pooling between your legs again. But before you can even reach for him Jungkook takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The intimacy of it overwhelming.

His other hand moves between your bodies, guiding himself to your entrance, his eyes locked on yours, searching, making sure-

With a final nod from you, he pushes in, slow and careful, stretching you inch by inch.

A soft moan escapes your lips, but Jungkook kisses you instantly, swallowing the sound, his own groan muffled against your mouth as he sinks deeper. The moment he’s fully inside, he stills, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing you in. And as he holds you close, as your bodies mold together so seamlessly, you realize- this isn't just sex.

This is home.

Jungkook moves slowly, each roll of his hips deep and deliberate, as if he’s trying to make up for every moment he let slip away. His body is pressed flush against yours, warmth seeping into every inch of your skin, his breath shaky against your lips as he kisses you between each movement.

Your fingers dig softly into his back, nails pressing just enough to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensation of him. One hand moves to his hair, your fingers threading through the strands, tugging gently as his lips travel from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses that make your heart ache.

It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s love.

And then, suddenly, you feel it.

A faint tremble against your body.

Something warm and wet against your neck where Jungkook has buried his face.

Your breath catches as realization dawns- he’s crying. Tears gather in your own eyes without warning, the sheer weight of the moment crashing over you all at once.

You tighten your hold on him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you press a soft kiss into his hair. “Kook…” you whisper, your voice barely holding steady.

He shudders at your touch, at the way you hold him, like you’re not just letting him fall apart but falling apart with him.

“I—” His voice cracks as he exhales shakily, his thrusts faltering for a moment. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His lips find your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he presses kisses there—apology after apology, praise after praise.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs between kisses, his words thick with emotion. “You always have been.” A tear slips down your cheek as you cup his face, guiding him up until his forehead rests against yours.

“I know,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I know, Jungkook.”

His lips crash against yours again, the kiss slow and deep, his movements resuming, gentle but full of something raw, something unspoken. His hands grip your waist tighter, his body moving in perfect sync with yours, as if this moment is rewriting everything.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, voice laced with love. “I’ll always have you.”

Jungkook shudders, gripping you tighter, his lips pressing against your shoulder, his movements slowing but never stopping. You can feel the love in every touch, every kiss, every whispered breath against your skin.

And when the pleasure builds to its peak, you come undone together, your bodies melting into one as waves of warmth crash over you. His name spills from your lips, his deep groan following right after, his arms holding you so tight you swear he never plans on letting go.

Silence lingers, only the sound of heavy breathing filling the space. Then, Jungkook shifts, lifting his head just enough to press the softest kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice hoarse but full of devotion. “I don’t deserve you… but I swear, I’ll spend my life proving that I do.”

You cup his face, your thumb brushing away the remnants of dried tears. “Just love me like this, Jungkook,” you whisper, voice steady. “That’s all I need.”

His hands tightening around you as his forehead presses against yours. “I’ll love you more,” he vows, his voice breaking slightly. “More than this, more than anything. Always.” His words settle deep in your chest, warm and real, and when he pulls you impossibly closer, tucking you into his arms, you believe him.

His heartbeat is steady now, no longer frantic with fear. Just warm, solid, home.

As sleep begins to pull you under, you hear him whisper one last thing against your hair.

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

---------------------------------------------------

[salemthepuppylover]

I have said it SO MANY TIMES and I will SAY IT AGAIN.

AS A DOM. YOU DESERVE CARE TOO.

aftercare is often times sub-focused, and while that’s always great, it’s often seen as “only subs need aftercare because they’re the ones that took the brunt of the acts.” and as a disabled dom, that’s absolutely not true.

dom drop is very real. I often experience it as guilt for hurting someone, or being “too aggressive,” as trans women are often seen. especially for doms that take care of subs, pretty please take the time to take care of yourself too!!

and for all the subs out there, if you’re able, please please please go get your dom some water or a snack. even if neither of you can walk, it’s imperative that you *talk to each other.* in my past, even the smallest things made me feel so much better. I’m going to list off some great things to say to your dropped dom here (feel free to add in reblogs!!)

“I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me too much.”

“Thank you for doing (self care act) for me, do you need anything?”

“I liked everything you did.”

“everything was within my boundaries.”

“you did great, (name/nickname).”

“do you need anything?”

“would you like (self care act)?”

“can I help (task: clean up, get water, etc.)”

just doing something like talking, showing physical affection, kisses, comfort, etc, is so so so important, and everyone deserves it!

and to all my fellow doms out there, don’t feel guilty for asking for help! if you need it, ask for it! your partner is there to show you love and care too!

[willyoubemycherryy]

“Who’s your new friend?” (Salesman x reader)

Summary: Your dad’s dark stranger is the one for you. Too bad about his cruel streak….

Contains: sit down chicas this is a LONG one, plot but gratuitous p+rn, dads!friend au, rough sex, edging, pussy spanking, he’s mean :( , choking, drugging, everything IS consensual bc I’m tired of everyone writing him as a domestic terrorlzing rapist, he’s still psychotic and unhinged tho, just not psychosexual because psychotic traits don’t always translate to sexual violence, your dad is sweet but trusting and naive, squirting, pussyspanking unprotected sex (don’t be a dummy, wrap your gummy) begging, degradation, praise, cursing, reader is a bit of a bitch, light dom/sub dynamics, his cock is stuuuupid fat bc I said so and have eyeballs, ur 22 in this period and he’ll spit in your mouth in the next installment of this series :)

A/N: Yeah, he got me y’all😔 Gong Yoo sexy, fine, tall, handsome ass got me😞I’ve been tripping out for 17 days straight over this man sooo…

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ _ _

_ ➵ ✩ ◛ ° . +

You knew your dad often had strange friends but this one takes the cake.

Raising a skeptical eyebrow at the tall man your father was currently introducing you to. Standing over 6 feet in a pitch black suit he was extremely easy on the eyes with full lips, perfectly styled hair, relaxed posture and not a wrinkle in sight paired with the darkest almond eyes you’d ever seen. You rove your eyes over him once more before looking back up to find him staring back at you…

Yes, he was perfectly lovely but was it too soon to assume something about him was..off?

You feel your face warm at how strong his gaze is but you stare back defiantly, mentally cursing your too trusting dad.

“…and since we chat almost everyday during our commute to work- would you guess that we’re both in sales and marketing?- I thought it’d be great to invite him over and talk more in a more comfortable setting!” Your dad says excitedly, smiling as he tells you all about his new friend. The man smiles alongside him, cheeks faintly dimpling and despite your distrust, you can’t take your eyes off of him as you feel your heart beat harder in its cage.

“I was going to call to tell you I was bringing company but you know I forget to use that thing.” ‘That thing’ being a modern phone to a man who was awful with tech. You scoff but nod to let him know you don’t mind (completely) and because you already know how your father is and he continues,

“Oh right! Speaking of forgetting, I don’t remember if I ever mentioned my daughter even though I know I probably did-“, you listen to your dad introduce you and the man smiles even wider as he steps forward, offering his hand to yours in a shake.

“How pleasant to meet you.” Holy shit. His voice is a lot deeper than you expected and you absentmindedly place your hand into his waiting one. The way it completely encases your hand due to its sheer size makes your heart stop before it melts down to a warm pool in your lower stomach, settling in your core like hot tea as you breathe out a shaky exhale. His hand is also rougher than you thought it’d be for a simple businessman as it squeezes yours and a quick flash image of that same hand around your throat has you snatching your hand back as you shoot him a tight smile.

“Right. Back at ya. Um, how old are you again?”

“Ah. Isn’t that improper to ask new people?”

“I’m just curious to how you maintain a career as developed as my dads because you seem so young.”

Oh. You’re quick witted; that makes things a potential hassle for him.

“Well, I’m much older than you. I’m certainly older than your father.”

“Ha! Are you also the Emperor of China-”, You’re cut off as your dad says your name in the way he does when you’re being rude but you ignore it, glaring at the man.

“Be polite! He’s older so you should speak respectfully”, you barely hide the roll of your eyes but your fathers new friend catches it and you swear you hear a huff of amusement from him, the low sound makes you shiver as you turn on your heel to go back upstairs, your dads scolding calling after you.

“Aish! Spoiled! Brat! You were so much cuter when you were younger!”

“Whatever!”

“Bellybutton lint!”

“Old man!”

“Oh yeah?! You won’t be 22 forever!”

The only response he gets back is the sound of your bedroom door slamming while you’re all too aware of the eyes on your back when you’d left. Your dad sighs as he runs a hand down his face. The salesman simply stands quietly, grinning as always as he observes your little spat. Something about it caught his attention though.

“She’s young.” And your father agrees, insisting that’s part of the reason for your behavior, you apparently were “much nicer” and he nods in understanding.

“College age is tricky. I met her mom around her age and things are so much more different than they were back in our day so I try not to be too hard on her but sometimes she’s so-!” He tilts his head as he waits for your dad to find the word.

“Difficult!”

Ah. How cute. A little attitude problem.

That honestly doesn’t surprise him because most pretty little things almost always had one- you were no exception. Though, you yourself were a pleasant surprise. He’d maintained a friendly relationship with your father on a mere whim, finding him to be…nice unlike most he considered nuisances, so when the man invited him over one day he accepted and as he trailed through the door behind him, taking in the warm tones of your house when he spotted you. Standing near the island by the kitchen in shorts so tiny the wide waistband made them look like a mini skirt, the words ‘PINK’ on the back and a snug white tee shirt, the blue of your bra peeking through, you walk towards them smelling of fabric softener and cold vanilla. Your hair was down as you stared at him like you were both scared and wanting with big eyes full of suspicion. The gloss of your lips shining back at him as your lips curl during your inspection of him, lightly arched brow raising as you gave him a thorough once over, eyes flicking back up to his when you were done. You were absolutely delicious to look at. Short, smart mouthed, pretty and prissy.

He didn’t mind the rude way you spoke to him- no- because your eyes tell. You were weary but interested; cynical in all the ways your father wasn’t but that was perfectly fine.

His smile slowly shifted into a smirk as he followed your father to the living room, humming whenever he would speak, but his thoughts were preoccupied.

Thinking of smooth legs on a cute face he’d love to see wet with tears as he spanked your smart ass raw.

•

•

•

When you went upstairs the first thing you did was grab your headphones and tune out.

What the fuck was your dad thinking??

You huff as you flop on your bed, scrolling through your favorite apps while you tried to slow your thoughts.

Everything is fine.

Your dad always has the most unconventional friends and acquaintances so this was probably just that and you were freaking out more than usual because he was unfathomably attractive. That’s it. You just needed to get a grip. But fuck would you love to ride him through the weekend if only he didn’t have such a concerning aura…and wasn’t pals with your dad of-course.

About 2 hours later when you go downstairs to get food and bring it back to your room-answering curtly when your dad asks if you want to join him and the hot stare of the suited man you’re trying to pretend isn’t there.

“Hard no. Do I look like a nurse? You two senior citizens can play amongst yourselves.”

You sigh when you get back up to your room, FaceTiming your friends as you eat, talking about whatever and whoever before you remember you need to organize some of your class notes and say goodbye before you hang up.

It takes less time than you thought it would so when you’re done, you go about your night routine. Teeth, skincare, oversized cotton shirt, lights off as you put on a movie you’ve seen a million times. It’s harder for you to fall asleep when you can still hear his deep voice through the walls talking and laughing with your dad, shaking your core as you toss and turn- physically fighting the feeling- until you fall asleep.

X

Another few hours later, you wake with a start. Something’s not right.

You can still hear the tv downstairs but no voices. The hairs on the back of your neck stand and as you turn your head towards your door- pulling the covers off your legs, the sight of a tall dark figure rips a blood curdling scream from your throat. In that same second the figure steps closer, the light from your tv illuminates him and your heart races as you stare back wide eyed at your dads suited stranger friend. You’re still gasping and reeling as he sits down on your soft bedding, watching with rapt eyes at you trying to calm down from the near heart-attack he almost gave you.

“W-what..what the fuck?!” He smiles as you get up to yell in his face, gesturing wildly.

“Why the hell are you in my-“, you cut yourself off as another realization dawns on you completely and he can’t help the compulsion he feels towards you.

“How long have you been in my room- wait where’s my dad?!” If you knew who he was and what he did for a living, you’d be much more agreeable…or maybe not and that’s what fascinated him about you. You were so unusual. Wanting to steer clear of him instead of on, even though he’d piqued your curiosity, you didn’t blindly follow like every other nuisance did; instead he was the inconvenience and the way you let him know via sharp words and distrusting looks was something he hadn’t gotten in a while. The way you brushed him and your hard working dad off with no more than a pretty glare while probably never having actually worked for anything in your life made him itch to correct you. Make you say sorry- break you back into the sweet girl he knew you could be.

“I swear to god- WHERE IS MY DAD-!“, before you can raise your voice anymore, turning to go find him yourself, he’s pulling you back by your wrist, covering your mouth with his other hand as he hooks his chin over your shoulder cooing at you to calm down - listen to him a bit.

“Shh. Your father is alright, had too much to drink so he’s passed out downstairs but safe nonetheless.” You feel your body relax against your will at his words but you still bite his palm for scaring the hell out of you. The pain that blooms up his wrist from his hand makes him hiss against your ear and you wish it didn’t sound so good before it trails off into a light chuckle.

“I’m going to move my hand. You won’t scream. Understand?” You roll your eyes but nod anyway and a few seconds later his hand is lowered but he keeps you sitting up against him.

“Look- if you’re some kind of extortionist or blackmailer, my dad only works for clean honest compan-“,

“I’m none of those things.” Huh. You’re even more confused but the silence that follows he doesn’t break instead he waits for you, enjoying your discomfort as you shift against him.

“Then what the fuck do you want? Nothing better to do in your ancient age on a Tuesday night besides creep around?” Your mouth would be the death of you and this might very well be the moment as you mouth off to a complete stranger who could be (and actually is) very dangerous but bravado was all you had. You’d seen and heard more than enough to know that an older man in a suit visiting a young girl he didn’t know in the dead of night never ended well.

“I want to chat for a bit.” You tilt your head a bit in confusion but he takes your silence as the go ahead, making your heart pound when he shuffles even closer causing you to feel his firm pecs through his expensive smelling dress shirt; the heady combination makes your pulse race as you fight yourself on whatever it is exactly that you’re feeling but shouldn’t be.

“When your father mentioned you, you sounded like such a nice girl…”, the low way he speaks resembles a purr, words vibrating his chest, thick arms holding you tight to him as his warm breaths coast across your chest and neck.

“Imagine my surprise when I meet you and you’re nothing more than an ungrateful little princess with a pretty face but very nasty attitude.” You feel your face warm in shame at the blatant way he calls you out, immediately defensive as you shoot back,

“What’s it to you? If you want to see some obedient thing then get a boarder collie-!” Enough of that. His hand claps down over your throat, squeezing not enough to hurt but enough to make you shut up as your heart rate spikes, nerves going haywire at the sudden cut of oxygen. You get dizzy quick. Blood rushing through your ears like a current of cotton, hand flying up on instinct to pull at his muscled forearm but it doesn’t budge and you whine- biting your lip as your heart beats liquid fire through your body. You were so fucked up, clamping your thighs shut as if that will stop you from getting wet but it’s hard to pay attention to that with a tight hand around your neck and mean lips against your ear.

“Didn’t your father tell you to respect your elders?” He tuts out and you nod desperately, willing to swallow your snideness if it meant getting air. He loosens his grip enough for you and you gasp so hard you nearly choke, the sound turning him on more than it should; he grabs your chin so you face him with teary eyes and he nearly groans at how weak you look. The sedatives he slipped in your dad’s drink would last for a while so for now it was just you and him.

“Answer me.”

“You first-“, you’re quick to shut your mouth as a smirk grows on his face. A fast learner.

“Smart. But”, he pauses to put you on edge before continuing, “because I quite enjoy your father and his company, I don’t like the thought of him being troubled by anything.” His words are sweet but they also fill you with dread because you know how much you intentionally butt heads with your father. Mouthing off at him just to amuse yourself sometimes. You never meant to stress him but messing with him a little was how you showed your affection.

“That includes you as well.” He rasps against your neck, nipping the sensitive skin there with more teeth than tongue and you choke on a moan, breathing hard.

“Okay. Got it. I need to be nicer-”,

“No, you need a firm hand.” Oh fuck. You bite your lip at that, watching through bleary eyes as he rubs his other hand down your chest, brushing your hard nipples through your shirt as he feels up your soft curves. The hand around your throat tightens when he feels you might move but when you don’t he doesn’t loosen it- instead he rewards you with wet, scalding kisses behind that spot under your ear, suckling down until he reaches your collarbones. Your eyes water from all the sensations as you try to rationalize what’s going on before you lose yourself to how good you feel.

The hand caressing over your body doesn’t stop, threatening to burn you alive with the heat it ignites in you. To make matters worse, you can’t even breathe deeply enough to calm down with the hold he has on your neck and you’re reminded of how pathetically wet you are whenever you move your legs as you’re completely naked underneath your shirt. So much is happening but it’s not enough. Fleetingly scarce touches is all you’re being given but you need more. You shouldn’t want this, want him- or anything having to do with him- but you do and that thought scares you more than any potential repercussions.

He watches you with an unreadable expression as you shift constantly, sliding a hand under your shirt to cup your tits, flicking and twisting the stiff nubs cruelly between his fingers. Laving his tongue over each bruise he’s left on your neck before choking you harder, making the veins on the back of his hand show and your mouth drops open, hoarse broken moans falling as your hips twitch upwards. This was how he liked you. Melting into him so obediently…

“You’re going to be a good girl now?” He asks like it’s a question but the even in hazy state you’re falling into, you know it’s an order. He loosens his grip again so you can answer, voice hoarse,

“..y-yeah.” The softened tone you use when you respond makes him hard beyond belief and he bites your shoulder with a satisfied groan and you swear your cunt has a pulse. The familiar burning ache is so blinding that you listen immediately when he tells you-

“Open your legs.”

He almost didn’t hear your sharp intake of breath. He barely noticed the way your hips snapped up to hump his hand… he was preoccupied with just how wet you were. Your arousal coats his fingers as he slides them between your sopping lips making you keen through shuddering breaths as you try to control yourself. A few hard circles to your clit shatters that control as you cry out, needy sobs falling from your gloss smeared lips while you beg prettily for him.

“Please! I-! I’ll-anything! Just-!” His hand collar tightens again as he slides two fingers knuckle deep in your spasming hole, immediately curling them towards him, grinding them against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you and the fire that’s been steadily burning inside you almost makes you black out from how quick it threatens to consume you. You’ve never felt more out of your mind, your cunt so soaking wet it’s audible. White-searing pleasure shoots electricity through every nerve and you’re screaming. Between the fuzz in your head from oxygen loss or the brutal way he’s fucking you with his fingers- the one thing you do know is that if you cum now, you’ll faint.

“Waittt- mm-! S-stopp!!” It’s the struggle of a lifetime to get the words out but you do and when you do, surprisingly- he listens. Taking his fingers out as the strings of your slick drip from them and you cry at the loss, the ache still there but you could at least breathe. You feel a nip at your ear and you only then notice the way you’ve rested your weight completely against him.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” His voice is thick with arousal from how wonderfully you responded to him. So wet he could taste it in the air as you trembled and cried against him. The water in your eyes spilling down over as they rolled back into your skull. Your face was the perfect erotic expression of tormented bliss as he made you earn air and fight off an orgasm so strong it would’ve put you in a vegetative state.

The sound of your weak sniffles make his cock ache as he lays back on your bed, maneuvering your hips over his as he opens his pants, taking his length out he moans at the pressure relief. Swiping his fat head through your messy folds but not inside.

“Well? I need you to answer me. Or do I need to get it out of you myself?” You shake your head, lifting your arms when he moves your shirt up off you and now you’re completely naked while he’s still clothed. As much as his stare intimidated you, his attentions felt even better, moaning at the dirty kisses his cock gave your hole.

“Was gonna cum…but you didn’t say I could yet”, you reach up to use his arm as leverage while you wiggle your hips and your submission drives him mad with how much he wants to ruin you.

“Aw. That’s cute…but if you came before I let you, what then? Are you smart enough to tell me?” He asks sweetly but the condescending undertone makes you feel dumb as heat blooms in your chest and you will away the fuzz that’s making it hard to think so you can give him a proper answer. One that would please him. The fact that you even wanted to please him was something you’d have to get back to.

“I’d be in trouble?” You say it like a question and less of an answer and he finds your uncertainty so cute as he laughs indulgently at you.

“Close. It’s because you’re my good girl. And my girl only does as she’s told, yeah?” The same trickling tingle at the base of your skull is back again as you mindlessly repeat after him.

“Yeah.” He hums, lining himself up with your drooling pussy, sliding in with one thrust. Gritting his teeth with a heavy groan while you choke on a sob.

“Fuckin’ tight-!” Deep grunting in your ear overwhelming you in the best way and you lose it from how full you are. You could’ve guessed by his height and frame that he’d be packing but it felt fatter than you would have ever been able to accurately guess, pressing effortlessly against every spot that made you see stars.

You were everlastingly grateful your dad was knocked out because the sounds coming from you and your room were beyond incriminating. Even though he wasn’t moving, every-time you did, you could feel the deliciously heavy pressure against your slick walls. Shivers wracking up your body as wheezing fucked out moans left your mouth and you grind down in messy circles until the hand on your throat stops you.

“Look at you. Desperate n’ wet begging to cum. You’d do anything I tell you, huh? Just like a dog.”

A disgustingly pathetic warble is his reply but he wants more from you, choking you hard as he pinches your sensitive nipples.

“Uhhn! Yes!” The sheer desperation in your shaky voice gives him a sick head-rush.

“Open your legs for me.”

You obey before he even finishes his sentence. Thighs falling apart, cooled air over your center makes you moan wetly as you wait patiently. So patiently that the first heavy slap against your pussy winds you by the time the pain registers. As soon as the sting settles, warmth pools in its place, sensitivity heightened as you wail. The stricken sound makes his cock throb inside you.

“Wha-!”, another slap cracks down on your swollen lips, hitting your clit spot on and again and you try in vain to wriggle away.

“You still need to prove to me that you’re sorry for your behavior earlier.” He says, voice casual but no less mocking and you cry. Tears running down your cheeks as your body struggles to adjust and obey. Before you can shout out however many strings of apologies it’ll take for him to let you cum, he strikes your center again, hissing in pleasure at your screams. He feels it. That somehow you’re even wetter, dripping down his balls and smearing your slick all over the front of his slacks. He has half a mind to make you clean it up when he’s done with with you as he spanks your cunt again, biting your ear hard until it reddens.

“If you cum before I tell you, I promise I’ll make this the longest night of your life”, he groans darkly in your ear. You’re blessed that you can still hear him through the bass of your heart’s beat and the loud, wet connect every time his hand comes down. You were so close. The sharp sting and the pained pleasure of swelling warmth his heavy hand left behind was too much and your poor clit couldn’t take much more. Gasping through your tears, you scramble to find the right words.

“‘Lease- please! Ah-m’sorry!” Your raspy voice breaks halfway through when lifts you only to slam you back down on his fat length, flicking your sensitive nub when he meanly asks you,

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Try again, little girl.” You night just be in for a long night after all.

You could barely breathe from how hard he was choking you, swollen pussy enflamed from countless spanks, and your center was stuffed to the brim as he was so big that he didn’t even have to try to hit your spots. You scratch and wrestle with his hand until he loosens it, gasping and whining, you pray you don’t come from the instant relief it gives you. The rush settling over you like a fuzzy blanket. He shifts below you and you hurry to get the words out before he makes you come without his say-so.

“I’m- I’m sorry! So sorry! Please Sir, can I-!”

Sir. You called him sir.

It’s less of you apologizing but more of you submitting to him, acknowledging him by title that he held superiority over you that pleases him enough to let you cum. Cutting off your sweet begging with more mean, heavy slaps to your wet pussy, basking in your delighted wails as he fucks up into you.

His hand tightens around your throat and this time, you welcome the suffocating pleasure. Scratchy cries escape when they can but you’re so far on the road to ecstasy that you don’t even care how you look or sound, chest heaving as your eyes water. Your cunt feels like it’s on fire but you beg him in every way you can to keep going even though you can’t take it and he does, groaning against your ear as he rubs messily at your throbbing clit.

“So good, baby- you can cum. Make your little mess before I make you beg some more-”, he does not have to tell you twice as everything you’ve been holding, releases and you do make a mess.

Mouth dropped open as you sob and for the next couple minutes hot unending pleasure is all you know as the stinging slaps get faster, ending with harsh circles on your bud after each one and your hole gets even tighter before you go limp- liquid jetting out of you. He fucks you through it with a tight grip on your windpipe, using you like a snug fleshlight until he’s coming harder than he has in a while at the state he’s put you in. He waits until he catches his breath to slide out of you- who’s deadweight as he lifts you off him.

Rolling off the bed, the silence makes him look over at you only to see that you’re out cold. His eyebrows raise as he huffs out an amused laugh, fixing his pants before brushing his hand over your pretty face. He might have overdone it he thinks as he sees your face return to it’s normal, less flushed hue. Leaning down, on impulse he presses a kiss to your cheek, his gentlest touch of the night before getting up and covering your worn naked body with one of the many blankets on your bed.

“You’re a treat in more ways than you know.”

As he stands, before he opens your door to leave, he pulls a card out of his pocket and leaves it on your nightstand then heads back downstairs to get his shoes and jacket. Turning off the tv where your dad sleeps easily and quietly slipping out the door, smiling the entire way. Now he has even more fun.

You.

•

•

•

When you wake up the next morning, you turn with a pleasant ache and stinging between your legs as you stretch, sighing with a blissful smile until you remember why you ache and who caused it.

Pushing yourself up, you stop when you see a card on your stand, rolling to the edge of your bed, you swipe it off and raise it to your face. It’s a picture of lollipop, a simple circle on a stick but the words below it make your chest warm and you don’t even bother pretending to yourself that you aren’t interested in seeing him again.

“Next time I’ll make you even sweeter.”

In part 2…

Or 3…

[ervotica]

hot rod — a.donaldson & p.zweig

pairings; art donaldson x fem!reader, patrick zweig x fem!reader, art donaldson x patrick zweig

summary; patrick comes to visit you and art at college. he finds college life is a lot more adventurous than once anticipated

warnings; mdni, 18+ only, SMUT, threesome, overstim, oral (m receiving), sub leaning!reader and art, more dom leaning!patrick, established throuple, polyamory

a/n; i’m not so sure how i feel about this tbh. i love the dynamic though so i pushed through even when it got away from me a little🥲 there will be another drabble for older!art and his pretty girl soon!!

you and art fuck until you’re brain dead and passed out from exhaustion. always have. neither of you possess an off switch, and when patrick’s not there to rein the pair of you in, things get a little… messy.

his cum is dried in your hair, the sticky substance smeared across your cheek, his knuckles still wet with slick.

patrick walks in, full belly laughs and peels you from art’s sweat soaked form, gives your cheek a pinch when you stir and whine.

he doesn’t clean you up because he likes to leave you naked whenever he has the opportunity — which is more often than not. seriously, you two need close supervision.

he just carries you with him to that shitty little armchair in art’s dorm, the room still stinking of sex and the humid summer air clinging to your skin; art shines with perspiration where he’s face down on the bed.

pat makes do with the lack of room, hooking a bare leg over the backs of your thighs until you’re squeezed snugly against his torso, face smushed to his chest. you’re snoring, and it makes patrick smile, slumping down in his chair to rest his lips against your cheekbone.

you wake slowly, eyes sticky and crusted over with exhaustion. your face is almost nestled beneath patrick’s armpit where you’ve been writhing in slumber and you grumble at the scent of sweat, layered with cheap aftershave. his hard-on presses to the center of your stomach and you can feel everything— the curve it makes now it’s hard and weeping, the feel of the spongy head, the vein that runs through the middle.

“you smell, pat,” you grumble, reaching up blindly to snatch the cigarette from between his teeth and take a long pull from the stick.

“yeah, well you’re not so hot yourself, babe. the whole room reeks.” he reaches down to tug on a loose strand of hair at the crown of your head. “there’s cum in your hair.”

“not my fault.” you stretch upward like a cat, curling into patrick’s chest. “where’s art gone?”

“still sleeping, baby.” he lights another cigarette, sacrificing the first one to you - still resting between your lips - and the clicking of the lighter draws your head upward to gaze through heavy lashes at him.

“come to bed,” you murmur, kissing his knuckles. your free hand coasts a long line across his jaw and you dig your thumb beneath his ear, giggling when he scrunches his features and relents, and pushes you to stand with a swat to your naked backside.

art curls into you instinctively when you roll onto the mattress, your hand threading through the curls atop his head. you scrub sweeping circles across his bare back and he hums a pleased sound, smearing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. patrick splays himself over the pair of you, all long limbs that sit askew to cover as much of your naked frames as possible.

art squints through the yellow light that illuminates the room, bright and artificial on his sensitive eyes. your movements against him don’t halt, a slow, rhythmic, loving sweep of your hands that he’s come to look forward to in moments like this. his jaw tilts upward as he mouths at your neck like a starved man, like you haven’t just gone five rounds and collapsed from overstimulation.

“you two need supervision,” patrick snorts. you quirk a bemused brow. “i’m serious, look at what you’ve done to each other! you look like you’ve been mauled.”

“jealous, much?” art mumbles sleepily, the sound muffled through your skin. you’re laughing and it splits your expression in two, eyes crinkled with amusement as the strawberry blonde boy snipes at patrick.

“should’a come to college with us, pretty boy,” you giggle. “could’a had this twenty four seven.” you dip your head until your brow presses to art’s. “poor pat, with no one to stick his dick in. how will he ever cope?”

“you could help me out, sweets,” he deadpans, the nickname saccharine and sour on his tongue all at once. art watches you through heavy lids. you huff, biting playfully at art’s lip before you tilt your head to face patrick,

“okay,” you chirrup. art’s quick to sit up, separating from your warmth in favour of nuzzling against patrick. patrick tips his chin down, slanting his lips against the blonde boy’s.

meanwhile, you’re working his cock through his shorts, palming the muscle until it chubs up beneath your hand, drooling a wet patch through the fabric. patrick groans, hips rolling up into your touch when you hook your fingers beneath his waistband and tug his cock free.

he moans into art’s mouth and your mouth goes dry at the sight. you’ve always loved to watch them like this, the way they get lost in each other, the way they start fervently pushing into one another’s space until patrick inevitably makes the first move and sticks his tongue down art’s throat.

patrick turns to putty beneath art’s roaming touch, huge paws that squeeze and grope and push at every inch of skin they come into contact with, not stopping even as you press your face to the seam of patrick’s balls, inhaling the sweat-soaked musk that creeps up your nostrils.

art’s hand snakes downward, flicking over pert nipples and ridges of muscle before he’s flicking a thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. patrick’s back bows into an arch as you lave your tongue over his sack, humming into the sensitive skin, full and heavy and begging for release. his hips rock upward into you as you seal your lips over him, eyes heavy with lust as art comes down to meet your mouth over his mushroom head.

it’s filthy and messy, downright pornographic as art licks over patrick’s cock, tongue pressing flat against the corner of your mouth and letting his spit pool there. you’re moaning - unable to help yourself - pressing your face forward to slant your lips over art’s fully. it’s all spit and drool as you lick into art’s mouth, the heady taste of the brunette boy still on your tongue, and then patrick’s bracing a hand against each of your heads and easing his cock through the seam where your spit slick mouths mesh.

you gasp and your damp lashes flutter, heavy with tears, and art’s tugging you frantically by your waist, pressing your bare chest to his own as patrick throws his head back and groans, shallow thrusts deepening. his breath stutters out in short, sharp bursts, chest heaving when your face slides down, down, down, all the way to the base of him until your pretty plump lips are wrapped around his sack.

you suck it into your mouth just as art takes patrick down his throat, the head of his cock bulging through the hollow of art’s throat as spit stretches and bows from the corners of his lips and lands in globs across your face.

you’re too drunk on the pleasure to care, the vibrations of your little sounds shooting right through patrick until you feel his balls tighten; he groans, long and loud, pushing closer to the pair of you as his cock pulses rhythmically and he releases down art’s throat.

you push your way through until your mouth is on art’s again, tongue licking into his mouth to taste patrick, wanting to be marked, claimed by both of them. his lips part, nose pressing to your cheek, and then he’s lifting you into his lap, his cock an angry red and pressed to the seam of your thigh.

patrick groans. there’s no fucking way he’s hard again.

“no more, you horndogs!”

[meganegatari]

You should definitely write for Vi bc oml she’s so fine 😮‍💨

DO U EVEN KNOW THE WAY IM TWEAKIN OVER HER like omfg. my poor moots getting bombarded with fucking piles of edits upon edits of her and my thirsty comments...yeah...i gotchu, you don't needa ask me twice ♡ tbh feel like this is one of the better short smutty thingies i've written, lol. it was really fun.

nsfw drabble—dom!vi + spit kink. originally i was gonna make this three smaller blurbs, but decided to just smash em all into one longer drabble situation. cw: praise, bossy vi, finger sucking (r! receiving), oral (v! receiving), vi bush mention RAHHHH, yapping... yk how it is by now. + 1.1k wc.

you were gazing up at her with watery eyes, kneeling by vi's seated form, trying your hardest to ignore the deafening ache between your thighs.

vi is loving, and she knows how to treat you well. she always provides you with tons of care and happiness, however—she also possesses a dirty side to her.

a bandaged hand swipes at the bottom of your chin, her thumb prodding at your pursed lips. there was a smirk playing on her scarred lips, her powder-blue eyes twinkling with pure lust at the scenario playing out before her.

“open.” she says roughly, and who are you to deny her? you were willing to take anything she'd give you, so you obediently part your lips, allowing her to fully push her digit inside your hot mouth.

almost instinctively, your puffy lips wrap around her thumb and you begin to suck, your eyes rolling ever so slightly at the taste of her salted skin. she hums, “atta girl—keep going. just like that, until i say you can stop, alright?” you open your eyes and nod in approval, wishing to commit her expression to memory.

see, vi wasn't one of those mean, degrading doms with an icy exterior who get off on hurting you an excessive amount, and in moments like this where she's got you in a position of submission under her, her natural “switchiness” peeks through. you see it in the way her throat bobs as she swallows, her unsteady, shallow breathing coming out in rasps, and the distinct furrow in her flaming brows while she struggles to maintain eye contact. regardless, you both enjoy toying around with various dynamics, she makes it fun.

you get lost in a daydream while staring into her eyes, but are startled out of it when she strongly presses down on your wet tongue, and pushes her thumb further inward until you gag.

it surprises you, but you know she would never overdo things. tears well up in your eyes, their presence only widening her voracious grin.

then she soothes, her now-soft voice caressing your ears, “exactly, just like that. good job, baby. you're so perfect f'me—yeahhh.” she continues rolling her thumb around your wet muscle, every so often dragging the pad of her finger over the ridges of your teeth, then pushing experimentally up against the roof of your mouth.

saliva has been gathering all this time, and she hasn't given you a moment to swallow it, so it dribbles out of your mouth and down your chin, decorating your chest as it slides down your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its path.

her face gets impossibly redder as she observes the sight, still while playing with—rather, using—your mouth. her movements speed up a touch, and she triggers your gag reflex once more before abruptly stopping. she pulls her hand out of your mouth with a pop, and throws her head back as she tries to steady her breathing. “you're so fuckin’ hot, god—i can't.”

you smile up at her, reveling in her break of character and being pleased with yourself. she's panting, and examines her hand; it's shiny and dripping with your spit, she's mesmerized by the sparkle it emits in the low light. her periwinkle eyes gloss over and suddenly there's a flash of fabric flying by, and you realize she has undressed herself in one fluid motion, throwing everything on her bottom half across the room. she’s so desperate, you can’t help but sneer at her horny distress, even though technically you were the one being overpowered.

your eyes drop, meeting a wild tangle of vermillion and crimson, her muscular thighs separating east and west to make space for you.

she leans back and gently nudges your head towards her tender, drooling core, her chest heaving at the way you're just melting under her touch. turning to jelly, you let her guide you where she wants. needs.

vi groans quietly, her breath hitching, “c'mon angel, you know what to do.” and you very much did. with her assistance, you advance and bury your face in her center, tongue finding her scarlet pearl—twitching and ready for you to obliterate.

you flick, you suck, and you moan at the heavenly taste of her essence, revel in the noises she's producing above you. she pulls you further in, bucking her hips frantically to chase your skilled mouth. you push your tongue inside her quivering hole as far as it'll go, taking as much of her in your mouth as you can, and ignoring the lack of oxygen you're experiencing—you would be more than pleased if you were lucky enough to die this way.

she's watching you intently through half-lidded eyes, chewing on her rosy lips. when you meet her gaze from in between her legs, her face contorts and she releases a guttural whine, more slick leaking from her and filling your hard-at-work mouth.

her grip on your hair tightens and her abs tense, providing you with an image that's worthy of a climax just on its own. her head falls back, her lips parting to allow for pretty, high pitched and pathetic pleas to grace your ears. “ple—please baby, just like that. you're so fuckin' good, don't you dare stop—ah!”

without any warning she makes a vulgar mess of your face, the vice grip on your crown causing you to wince, but just as she requests, you don't dare move.

you tilt your head to get a better angle, practically making out with her swollen pussy. you drink up her cum, the near-sickly sweetness clouding your mind, coating your thoughts in a drunken haze.

the high is rippling through her at such an intensity her loud moans are replaced with pornographic whimpers, the sensations utterly ruining her. she squirms and arches, caging your head between her thighs until she gasps.

"hah—okay, okay, oh—fuck.” she stutters while she pushes you away, the tremor in her body evident. you sit back and examine your work, feeling proud of yourself, her fucked-out condition proving you did a good job.

she's sprawled on the bed like a starfish, still trying to slow her racing heart but manages to chuckle, basking in the aftershocks of a mind-melting session.

her words are slurred, yet satisfied. “did so good, that was so good…love your mouth s'much babe.”

you guffaw, and throw at her through chuckles, “i know, i am the best.” that sends her into a fit of giggles as well, and once she's calmed down she confirms.

“yeah, you really are.”

thanks for reading! comments, reblogs, and asks are appreciated more than you know ♡ if you'd like to be tagged in future works, fill out the form here! until next time ;)

@andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ne @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @mascdom @ashaynep @angelynn-nicole @wilddrown @aylabv02108 @lonelyfooryouonly @melsmunch @e11williamsgf @spncrrdlvr @flowrmoth

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

The way Nanami subtly doms you

Tags: dom!Nanami x fem!Reader, sub!Reader, dom/sub relationship, NO age regression, sub space.

An: yeah idk i feel like nanami’s very subtle with his domming style, but i see shiu kong as full on dom.

• Nanami isn’t the type to flex his dominance over you. He doesn’t have to be rude or degrading to drive the point home. You know exactly when he gives you that look, it means to behave. His hazel eyes cut in your direction, and his eyebrow raises ever so slightly, like he’s amused by your disobedience. However, he doesn’t smile — doesn’t reward bad behavior.

• “Want to say that again?”, “Language.”, “Didn’t I tell you no pouting?” when you’re being a brat and mouthing off. bonus points if he’s pulling his tie away from his neck and slowly wrapping it around his palm.

• It’s simple, but he gives you his hoodies or coats to wear when you’re out and about. He likes seeing his clothes encompassed your body, and he enjoys that everyone will immediately be able to tell just whose you are.

• Speaking of clothes, Nanami’s not the type to tell you when you can and can’t wear something. He’s confident in his abilities to keep you safe, but that doesn’t mean he won’t make suggestions. “Are you sure about the skirt, sweetheart? I don’t want your legs getting cold.”

• He takes great care of you in an inconspicuous manner. He’ll adjust your clothes on you, buttoning up your top or gently fixing your unruly hair. He’ll throw your towel and pajamas (that he picked out for you) in the dryer when you’re in the shower, so they are all warm and cozy for you when you get out.

• Nanami is also the type to set a pretty firm bedtime for you. He knows how much you like to stay up and how ill you get in the mornings if you hadn’t had a minimum of 8 hours of rest. So, he sets you on a pretty strict bedtime schedule and routine. Don’t worry. He’s there every night to cuddle you to sleep.

• Insistent that you hold his hand while you two are out. He knows how distractible you are, and it eases his mind when your palm rests in his.

• The way he talks can throw you straight into a more submissive headspace, and he knows it too. He doesn’t do it often, but when he notices you getting too stressed or burnt out, he’ll immediately start with the dom talk, “My baby needs a break, doesn’t she?” He’ll coo and pull you into his lap, and when you inevitably lean into his touch, “There she is. Did my baby miss me?”

• Nanami sees it as a gentlemanly thing, but it could also be seen as another form of domming. He doesn’t let you touch a single door handle if he’s with you, and you best believe he’s walking on the outside. You’re tucked beside him on the inside of the sidewalk. He’ll also never let you hold a shopping bag. No, he does not care that he’s holding a bunch of Victoria’s Secret and Ulta bags. He pays for everything. If your car needs gas, Nanami fills it up.

• On the off chance that you two are out, and he’s not right beside you, all he has to do is curl his finger and point at the ground in front of him to let you know that he wants you to come to him, and you better do as you’re told.

• The king of giving simple stern instructions. “Look at me.” “Speak up, baby.”, “Come here, now.”, “Give me a kiss.”, “Ask nicely.”

• Nanami will sit on the couch, spread his legs, and pat his knee when he wants you to sit on his lap. He doesn’t even have to give simple instructions for that.

• Even while he does all this, he respects your independence, autonomy, and intelligence. Let’s bffr rn he’s your biggest supporter in everything you do. He’s so in love with you because he knows how smart and hard working you are. He’s so damn lucky that he gets to be the man to pamper you and ease your weary mind. He loves being that safe space for you, so you can just relax, lean on him, and just be you.

[stellamarielu]

first thing

jack abbot x female reader

summary: lazy mornings with jack are few and far between, but they always exceed your expectations or jack topping you from the bottom while you ride him first thing in the morning!

content: nsfw, 18+ mdni, literally nothing but smut, established relationship of some sort (let your imaginations run wild), p in v sex, dirty talk bc of course, excessive use of the nickname baby, jack being a veryyy lowkey pleasure dom

word count: 1.1k

author’s note: i’m a firm believer that our dear dr. abbot has a filthy mouth, so of course i had to write something nasty for him. the lack of smut for that smug son of a bitch is criminal. also i am convinced that he would call you baby in bed, but only in bed. i dont think he’d be one for pet names, but something about him being all pussy drunk and calling you baby through low raspy groans. yeah. that is all… enjoy!

“You havin’ fun up there?” Jack’s voice was peppered with self-righteous teasing. His words melted into the air through a lazy drawl as you straddled his lap, his dick buried deep between your legs.

Fifteen minutes ago, you were both fast asleep, bodies intertwined under his linen sheets.

You stirred awake in each other's arms, a tangled mess of limbs in the soft yellow hues of morning light that fought through the blinds. Slow sensual touches on bare skin led to your body on top of his. Feeling the familiar stretch as you sunk down on him, you took your time rolling your hips and coaxing quiet grunts from the man below you before either of you could even think about getting out of bed for the day.

It was rare for you to have an upper hand in the bedroom. When it came to Jack, dominance was his territory, the power associated with it fed his ego. It was uncommon to catch him in a moment of vulnerability, but sometimes you found him trading his strong willed attitude for a more docile demeanor. It often appeared when he was preoccupied or overcome with the need for relief, giving into the soft comfort of your hands on his body. He had to be just needy enough to willingly let take the lead, and even then, he could never fully submit.

He used his words in retaliation.

Maybe his rigid frame would melt under your touch, or his inhibitions would fall to the side at the sound of your pathetic little moans, but he would always rely on his words to remind you who was really in charge. 

“Nice and slow just like that.” The deep rasp of his voice echoed between your bodies; his instruction still laced with sleep. 

A smirk peeked through his slumber worn expression, fingertips resting at the flesh of your waist as your body pressed into his.

His head fell back into the pillow, eyes threatening to close, and you could feel his fingers hug harder into your skin with each rock of your hips.  

“There you go.” He held you, trying his best to let you set the pace, but desperately wanting to tighten his grip and drag you along his body�� rough and impulsive. 

Your fucked-out stare scanning him from above was the only thing keeping him in check.

Your pleading eyes begged for control. They practically oozed with desperation as you rode him. It was enough to make his grasp soften as he surrendered to your desire, watching as you used him to please yourself. Used him. His dick pulsed at the notion. 

Jack was addicted to you, mind numbingly obsessed with the soft gasps that fell from your lips every time you came. He swore those sounds alone could give him a buzz unlike any drug. Some nights, he’d make you finish on his fingers so many times he’d lose count. He needed to make you feel good— wanted to watch the way your body reacted to his touch. It held a different kind of control, witnessing you give yourself over to him with your back arched and your head thrown back.

“Show me how you want it baby.” His voice was attentive as he fed into your delusion of power. 

You were grinding into him. Your movements bordering on pitiful with your palm flat against his chest as you held yourself upright. Little whimpers of surrender made their way from your chest with each pass of your hips over his, angling yourself just right so that his tip brushed against the perfect spot with every movement. 

Fluttering shut in the inevitable anticipation of release; your eyes left his. You were basking in the warmth of his hands on your bare body; one of them trailing up your torso, the pads of his fingertips tracing into your skin, higher and higher until,

“Eyes on me.” Delicately, he held the nape of your neck, forcing your stare back on his as he pulled you closer to him. 

You dumbly nodded your head. Handing him back an ounce of authority as you followed his command through a hooded gaze.

“Look at you. So goddamn pretty for me.” 

Your jaw went slack at his words, mouth slightly open and brows knit together as the pressure building in your abdomen threatened its release. 

He could feel each greedy response of your body— could sense your impending orgasm with every clench of your thighs, and he was done letting you take the reins.

His hips snapped up to meet yours. Thrusts moving in tandem with each grind of your hips.

“Shit- you feel too fuckin’ good.” Profanities spilled from his throat at the satisfaction of having full control.

He was holding onto your hips and fucking into you from below. The tensing of your body and the sweet moans dripping from your tongue only adding to his pleasure. You were his. He needed it— craved the promise of your devotion in the breathless praise of his name on your lips.

“Come on baby let me have it.” Growling out in a low moan, he all but begged you to finish for him— finish on him. Pushing you right over the edge with just a few simple words and the persuasive quality of his voice. 

Your walls hugged tight in obedience, a string of whines leaving your throat as you came undone around him.

“There she is.” His statement of recognition seeped with affection while his grip on your hips remained unrelenting.

The high of your release persisted as Jack’s thrusts kept purpose, his hands on your body holding you steady. 

“Got another one for me?” A sadistic warmth took over his voice, and he drove into you harder. The question obviously rhetorical as he made sure to hit the spot that made you clench around him.

The day began around you as gentle sunlight filled the room, but neither of you had a single thought of getting out of bed anytime soon.