#this idea has had a hard grip on my brain for like the last three days

[salsasolutions]

When the spire be sugaring [EXTREMELY INCORRECT BUZZER]

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 18

Title: Cheat Day

Pairing: Personal Trainer! Bucky x Curvy!female reader

Tags/warnings: SMUT, semi-public sex, shower sex (slippery), self-consciousness, mentions of cellulite/stretch marks, a smidge of fluff bc I can't resist, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), pet names (doll, baby), praise

Summary: You are a newbie to a gym and one of the regulars takes a liking to you and offers to help you on your gym journey. However, you notice that he's a lot more hands on than other trainers at the gym

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: maybe it should more aptly be gym buddy Bucky but alas... I had plans - I promise!! I might have to get my big fics out tomorrow rip me

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Warm Up

You hate, hate, hate HATE working out.

You hate the gym. You hate the way you look like a lost puppy and don't know which machine to use. You hate that you get so out of breath on a tread mill. You hate how your arms wobble when you lift weights.

And you hate that damn Stairmaster.

The only thing you love is perhaps how your deliciously thick thighs can support the heavy weights on the legs press like it's nothing. That would probably be it.

You take one of the last treadmills available, setting your bottle and towel down before fiddling with your earbuds. You're not really paying attention to the guy next to you; you're too focused on trying to get through your warm up.

You start at a walk. You're hair swishing as you lift it to your crown to tie with a hairband. The guy beside you picks up his pace and your eyes flicker over to him. And oh God. What a guy. He's tall and muscular, clearly a regular unlike yourself who makes every excuse under the sun to avoid the gym, with a mop of dark hair that's bouncing to his movements. He's barely sweating at a pace that would have you panting.

You don't realise you've been staring until he smiles at you, sticking his tongue out playfully, before going back to running.

You are red faced and almost trip over your feet. You need to focus. You turn your music up and eventually break into a light jog. After thirty minutes your gym buddy wipes down the machine and disappears to another section of the gym, flashing you a smirk and a wave has you watch him go.

His T-shirt has the logo of the gym of its back and for a split second you're wondering if you should book a session, before scolding your horny brain.

Workout. Focus on working out.

Arms

The next time you come to the gym, it's dark out. You'd spent the day in work and although you just wanted to go home and eat dinner, maybe have a glass (or three) of wine, you had made a promise to yourself to go and now you were here.

It was so much more peaceful at night. The blaring music was off and there was hardly anyone about. Suddenly, you loved your idea of coming here. You had little reason to be self-conscious with so few people around.

Today was arms and you were busy trying to hype yourself up using the bench press. Arms were the worst, just after cardio and you dreaded having to do this. Suddenly the thought of three glasses of wine didn't seem so bad.

Adjusting the weights either side of the bar, you slip under it, getting comfortable against the hard leather seat. You reach up and grasp the bar, straightening your arms and pushing the bar out of it's rest. Your arms wobble slightly, your arms bracing against the weight and you hadn't even managed one rep. Perhaps you'd done the weight wrong.

"Whoa doll!" A voice calls out and you strain your neck trying to look for the approaching footsteps. It's the guy from the other day. "You're gonna hurt yourself doing it like that."

"I - Uh-" you grip the handles, unsure if he wants you to let go or not, but you're palms are starting to sweat. "Okay."

He grins down at you, placing large, rough hands over yours and gently lifting the handles back to stationery position.

"Thanks." You sigh, rubbing your sweaty palms on your workout leggings. You glance up at him again, only to find you're eye level with his crotch and go beet red.

Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.

The guy doesn't seem to notice. "I'm Bucky. I'm one of the trainers here."

"Y/N." You try and offer a smile but you're too focused on not thinking that his crotch his just right there.

"I've seen you round here once or twice before, um..." Bucky rakes a hand through his long hair. "You're new right? Have you thought about getting a personal trainer?"

You recalled almost tripping in front of him a week or so ago and flush red. Was it that obvious you weren't a regular? Unhelpful, mean thoughts fluttered through your head and you fought to push them away.

"That obvious, huh?" You smile sheepishly, finally sitting up on the bench.

"Very obvious." Bucky nods, still smiling at you. "You hadn't put the locks on the plates, they could have slipped and injured that pretty face."

Your eyes widen; you hadn't noticed the locks and were grateful Bucky was there to save you from injury... even if he was being a flirt about it.

Even if it made your heart flutter.

"Well, thankfully I have a hero to step in." You tell him playfully. "And about the personal trainer... to be quite honest, I don't think I could afford one right now."

You give him an apologetic shrug but he only smirks in response. "Good thing I'll help you for free. Consider it a free trial."

You eyebrows shoot up. Having someone around to motivate you and show you the ropes would be ideal, and especially if it was someone as handsome as Bucky, it may motivate you to come to the gym more often.

"Only if you're sure." You say cautiously, eyeing him. "I don't want you to lose out on work because you're helping me."

Bucky shrugs. "Hey, helping you is more important. I can just text you what days and times I'll be at the gym - if you're here the same time, then we can do some sets together."

You can't say no to that. His eyes brighten when you agree and exchange numbers before he runs you through how to correctly use the bench press, encouraging you and praising you even though you're red faced and drenched in sweat by the end of your set. But you feel fantastic.

If this was how your sessions with Bucky would be, maybe you'd have to consider saving up for more sessions.

Legs

Whichever the Bucky you saw the night he convinced you to take some sessions with him, didn't exist after that night.

The next few sessions with Bucky he'd been nothing but a hard ass, making your brows furrow with displeasure each time he taunted you. It spurred you to complete reps sure, but that wasn't the point. Quite frankly, you missed him being a little bit nicer and you missed the praise that came with it.

"It's false advertising," You huff mid-squat, shooting Bucky a glare. The more time you'd spent with him, the more confident you'd become at back talking him (even though you'd still complete all your reps). "If I'd have known you were going to be a drill sergeant, I wouldn't have agreed to this."

Bucky chuckles, eyeing your form as he stands with his big arms folded, sipping his water bottle. "And yet you finish every rep like a good little soldier." He teases back.

You scoff in response but your cheeks still grow warm. "Whatever."

After squats it was the leg curl machine. You're on your front, your quads under the foam cushions of the machines trying to push the bar against the curve of your ass but it's too heavy. Bucky is stood, as always, with folded arms watching you intently.

"Bucky, it's too heavy." You huff, letting your legs relax. "I need to put the weight down."

"No, you're doing it wrong." He chuckles. "May I?" He approaches, hands splayed.

You shrug, looking over at him with your chin in your palms. "Be my guest."

You still jump when you feel his strong hands on your thighs, moving them slightly wider. Your heart leaps into your throat and you could swear his fingers linger. His fingers are hot even through your gym wear and you're suddenly bashful when your head is filled with thoughts of another type of exercise you could be doing with Bucky. Again.

His hands trail to your knees slowly, bending them a little more before giving your calves a playful squeeze.

"Try now." He says quietly and you obey. The curl is a lot easier now, and the bar smacks your ass making it wobble.

"Oh, wow, OK." You chuckle bashfully. "Yeah OK you were right."

You catch Bucky smirking triumphantly but his eyes aren't on you; they're shamelessly glued to your legs and ass, watching you perform your reps.

Heat pools to your core and you quickly glance away. You have to be imagining it.

You have to.

Cardio

It had been about two weeks since you last saw Bucky and since you last visited the gym. You'd had a cold and then were so busy at work you couldn't find the time to drop by. You'd dropped Bucky a text to say you'd be out of commission but never explained why - and he'd not asked.

Sighing, you dumped your towel and water bottle next to the treadmill and began to walk. You'd come to the gym tonight for an escape. You hadn't wanted to text Bucky just in case he'd already be asleep but you itched to reach out.

The gym was a ghost town. Only the whirr of your treadmill echoed around the open space. You tried not to think about how you wished you'd bumped into Bucky or remember how he'd looked at you.

Maybe he's like that with all newbies...

That thought made your chest twist uncomfortably. You picked up your earbuds and shoved them in your ears, picking up your pace to a light jog.

So much for easing yourself back into it.

After an hour, you decide to call it quits.

It's 11pm and you just want to be back in your bed, hidden under the covers, away from the world.

You're on your way to the showers when you bump into a familiar face emerging from the men's changing room.

"Y/N?" Bucky

"Hey." You pause as he approaches, taking in the sight of his large biceps under the rolled up sleeves of his tee. "How've you been?

"Good. Long time no see. I thought I lost you."

You can't help yourself from smiling. "Oh no, can't keep me away from this place." You say sarcastically, making Bucky grin over at you.

"Really? Even miss me?" He teases softly.

"I don't miss you being a hard ass, if that's what you mean." You quip and Bucky scoffs. "But I have missed you."

Both of your gazes meet and the tension you'd been feeling over the last few weeks increases a hundred fold.

"So..." Bucky says slowly, barely breathing as he looks at you, not knowing which path to tread. "What are we doing tonight?"

"I've just finished," you say a little disheartened. "I was about to hit the shower."

"Can I join you?"

You both stare at one another. Bucky’s brain was expecting you to say your plan for your next set... not that you were going to shower. Mortified, redness bolts to his cheeks as he attempts to back track.

"I - I mean," he shutters and then coughs awkwardly. Your face is equally red but your eyes glimmer with want. "I thought - Uh- you were going to-"

"Sure," you say thickly.

Bucky's brain short circuits again and you give him that bashful smile that makes his heart stammer.

The women's showers are empty and after two minutes Bucky sneaks in behind you. As soon as the door closes, his strong arms pull you towards him, cupping your face before putting his lips on yours.

"Missed you too," he huffs, pulling his shirt off as you both fumble blindly for a shower booth. Bucky tugs at your gym clothes desperately as he kisses you, urging you to undress.

Your mind swims. He missed you too. He's kissing you senseless and you're sure that given the chance he'd rip your clothes from your body.

You peel away your clothes, pausing only to give Bucky more needy kisses in between layers. Bucky follows suit, discarding his sneakers, shorts and boxers into the pile next to your feet.

You feel a wave of self-consciousness as you take in Bucky's body; all muscle, toned and hard and utter perfection. Your eyes drop to your body; soft, squishable, with silvery zebra stripes running over your hips.

You hear Bucky suck in a short breath and you glance up through your eyelashes, smiling a little nervously. His blue eyes are transfixed on you as he closes the space between you. His fingers twitch as he reaches for you, desperate to feel your skin under his hands, but not knowing where he wants to touch first.

"Perfect," he murmurs, his hands ghosting over your hips, drawing you flush against him. His hands tighten their grip on your hips and you you gasp softly, feeling the hard heat of his cock brush against your thighs. One hand cups your face again, and Bucky’s head dips to kiss you slowly. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth wider, letting Bucky kiss you with far more passion and severance than you'd anticipated.

You're lost in the kiss for what seems like an age; your fingers running through his hair as his hands explore your body, tracing each and every curve, groping at your breasts, hips and ass. You moan into his mouth, mimicking his actions, running your hands over his pecks and down his abs to his cock against your thigh. Bucky pants a curse as you pump him a few times, nipping along his jaw.

"Bucky," You whisper. "The shower."

"Right," he huffs. He pulls the shower door open and gestures for you to step inside first, following closely behind and pressing the on switch.

You gasp when cold water hits your back and Bucky chuckles, arms encircling your waist and moving in to latch onto your neck under the spray of now luke-warm water. Your arms attach themselves around his neck, half-hoisted as you spread your legs to allow Bucky to slot between them. You bite back a loud gasp when Bucky's hand slides between your legs, running along your slit finding your sweet bundle of nerves and drawing quick, tight circles.

"Bucky," you whimper into his neck, your your breathing hitching and hitching like the tightness in your core; rushing upward so fast you feel lightheaded.

"Cum for me doll, be a good girl and cum for me," Bucky sucks at your neck, groping at your tits with his free hand. You lean your head against the shower wall as you feel pussy clenches around nothing. Your fingers grip at Bucky's wet hair, gasping his name as you hang at the precipice of your orgasm. Without warning, Bucky plunges two fingers into your sopping hole, curling them inside you. Your orgasm crashes over you and you cum over his fingers with a wracked half sob.

Bucky's fingers are withdrawn as quickly as they're inserted, leaving you hollow and looking at Bucky pleadingly. He grins at you pecking your lips with a hasty kiss.

"'M sorry, doll. I promise to take my time next time but I need you so bad."

He lifts you with ease, pushing your back against the cool wall, wrapping his arms under your thighs and spreading them open. Wisps of steam rise from behind him as your eyes lock, his cock brushing against your slick folds only once before he slowly lowers you down onto him.

"Oh - oh - oh!" You moan as he breaches inch by inch, each time your walls contract around him, adjusting to his size. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your thighs shake with pleasure and you're utterly at his mercy as he starts to fuck up into you.

"That's it, baby." Bucky praises, littering your face with kisses. "You feel amazing on my cock."

You moan his name and kiss his lips hungrily, pulling yourself closer to him as he brings you to ruin again. Your pussy's grip is like a vice, milking him as you press yourself flush against him glassy eyes meeting his and Bucky can't take it any longer.

Bucky pants curses rutting into you before pulling out entirely and cumming over your stomach and thighs with a short groan. His cock continues to twitch, his cum slowly being washed away by the water save for the white, thick line that connects to your thigh. Bucky slowly lowers you to your feet and you lean against him for support, relaxing in the post-orgasm bliss and the heat of the water.

"I've wanted to do that since the moment I laid on you," he confesses, tilting your head up to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

"So have I," You admit with a soft chuckle. "Kinda wish we could have done that instead of you making me do squats."

"But you're ass looked good." Bucky teases, chuckling when you glare at him.

"So you were checking me out!" You smack at his bicep playfully and that earns you one of his boyish smiles.

"So? Besides, more importantly," His hands grasp your hips tightly, forcing you to be still. "Today's a cheat day and I wanna take you out."

"Take me out? At 11pm? What's even open?" You smile up at him and he only shrugs.

"Okay, fine, twist my arm. Breakfast it is." He kisses you again, this time lingering a moment before smirking deviously at you. "But first let's get you cleaned up."

[inmyicyworld]

Wakanda

pt. 2

Summary: You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out.

Words count: 2.6k.

Warnings: smut, best friends to lovers, Bucky has one arm, he's insecure, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names.

Author’s note: I finally wrote this because this scenario couldn't let me sleep peacefully. I also have an idea for the second part (with Bucky’s new arm🤭), so I'll write it if you like this part <3

*English is not my first language, sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

You finally got permission to visit Bucky in Wakanda again since he was permanently living there to get rid of the Winter Soldier program and learn how to live a normal life again. You were there only three times because Princess Shuri and Ayo insisted that too much contact with other people might distract Bucky. 

The last time you were there with Steve and, even if you loved him to death, you couldn't deny the disappointment that you barely spent any time with Bucky alone. He was your best friend since you and Steve saved him in Bucharest, and you had the biggest crush on him for about the same amount of time.

You jumped right into his arms as soon as you walked down the hill and saw him standing near the lake. He hugged you back, burying his face into your neck, and it was truly the moment that you never wanted to end. Bucky smelled like fresh air mixed with some kind of seasoning, and fuck, he looked good. In traditional Wakandian clothes that were covering his missing arm too, a low bun on the back of his head with a few springs of hair around his face, and smooth and tanned skin from the work under the sun.

You two quickly moved to his hut with the food that you bought at the local cafe owned by a sweet old man. And somewhere after that, when you were eating on the floor covered with many blankets and colorful pillows and talking about your lives, everything went downhill. 

Food was forgotten. Somehow you ended up sitting on Bucky’s lap while you were connected in the most passionate and dirty kiss you ever had. Your hands were tightly holding his face, and his right one had a strong grip on your waist to hold you closer.

“Bucky…” You moaned in his mouth while your hips were grinding into his hardness, which was so obvious through the clothes. You both were so lost in the moment, sharing a desperate kiss full of tongues and teeth, trying to get to each other as close as possible.

It felt so right, like it was supposed to happen a long time ago, and now all of your feelings just couldn't be kept inside.

Bucky couldn't help but groan under his breath when your hand slipped into his hair, completely destroying his low bun. Your nails on his scalp felt majestic, and his brain became fuzzy with your gentle yet confident touches. Bucky moved his hand from your waist to your thigh, squeezing the soft and warm skin a little bit lower than your shorts. 

When he pulled away, you tried to follow his mouth, almost addicted to the taste and the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Fuck, doll, that’s not how I imagined it.” His face became sad and almost apologetic, and you saw that the corners of his now red lips moved downward in disappointment. “Not here, not with only one arm... Fuck, I can’t even touch you the way I want to.” His hand tightened on your hip, and you gave him a sad smile. Not that those things mattered to you, but your heart still hurt because Bucky felt that way.

“I don’t care about it. I just want you, Bucky, if you want me too, of course.” Your voice was soft and gentle, soothing his nerves a little bit.

“You can’t imagine how much I want it, but I can’t do much with one hand; fuck, it’s so bad, I’m sorry...” Bucky’s eyes closed and his head fell lower, but you could still see a pink flush on his cheeks.

“Bucky, I want it; I want you, and your hand is not a problem, okay?” He deeply inhaled when your hands took his face and your lips were back on his. The kiss wasn’t so harsh and desperate; it was more deep and passionate, like you both tried to feel each other. “Why don’t you just lay back on the pillows, and I’ll do everything?” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and put your right hand on his chest, pushing Bucky back on the pile of pillows behind him so he was sitting in a reclined position.

You saw the hesitation in his eyes, and you waited a few seconds, gently rubbing your fingers over his beard, so he could process your idea.

“Okay.” 

You got closer, sitting more comfortably on top of him. One of your hands pressed onto the pillows near Bucky’s body, and the other one landed on his firm chest, playing with the red clothes that he was wearing. Bucky lifted his hand, gently grabbing your face and kissing you again. His soft lips and slow movements of his tongue inside your mouth made you moan into a kiss.

“Can I take it off?” You mumbled, slightly pulling down the red material. More of his soft, tanned skin was shown, and you tried to hold yourself together and not overstep the line. Bucky’s pupils were dilated, almost completely hiding your favorite blues. He was closely watching your moving lips, as if he couldn’t get enough. 

“Mhm, but— please, can we leave this on?” He pointed to his shoulder, covered in blue material.

“If you feel more comfortable that way, then we can. But we don’t have to, if you suggest it only because of me.” You started to untangle his clothes, still watching his face to notice any signs of discomfort. 

“Just leave it on, okay?” 

“Okay.” As you removed the clothes from his chest, leaving the cover on his left shoulder, allowing you to see his perfectly sculpted body, your lips left soft kisses on Bucky’s cheek, going down to his neck and to his abs. You stopped there, feeling how the body underneath you tensed, and his hand gripped the duvet so hard that his knuckles became white. “Bucky?” 

“‘M okay, it’s just been so long for me. Didn’t get used to feeling that way. And I want you so bad, doll, I can’t even explain it.” He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. You felt that his cock was painfully hard underneath you, and just thinking about touching it made you ten times wetter.

“You can have me, Bucky. Do you want me to take the rest of our clothes?” You moved your hips a little bit, getting an almost desperate whine from Bucky. He looked so good like this: slightly disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, red lips, and eyes full of lust and need. And he was completely yours, fuck.

“Yes, please.” 

You placed a quick kiss on his lips before getting up. Bucky’s eyes were following your every move as you took off your shorts and t-shirt, staying in the cooling air only in your simple black underwear. But Bucky was looking at you like you were the most delicious and precious thing in the world, like he wanted to make love to you and completely destroy your body at the same time. 

“Doll– fuck, everything else too, please.” He licked his lips, unconsciously moving his hips from the lack of attention. Your eyes slipped to his crotch, seeing how his cock was very visible through layers of clothes.

You just smiled at his desperation but still reached to the back to unclip your bra and then slide your panties down your legs. You didn’t waste any more time, going back to Bucky and finally completely taking off his clothes. 

“Holy fuck…” Your mouth went completely dry when you pulled down his black boxers. You never found this part of a man’s body that attractive, but it was the prettiest dick you had ever seen. Thick and long, with a vein going around it and a slight curve towards his press. The shiny drop of pre-cum on the head made you instantly want to lick it, but the mumble of your name and calloused hand on the lower part of your back brought your attention back to Bucky.

“You’re going to kill me, doll. C’mere, please, I want– need to touch you. Need to kiss you.” Before you could even say something or move, his hand slipped under your ass and, without much effort, lifted you on top of him. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I want to worship you and make you feel good; I’m so sorry that I can’t.” 

“Bucky,” you said, laying down on his chest. “I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however you want to, okay? But for now, I want to take care of you.” The feeling of your hard nipples pressing against his firm chest sent shivers down your spine, and the hand on your back made you want to grind on Bucky like a bitch in heat. “Please, touch me, baby.”

“You shouldn’t say shit like this to me, doll. I won’t let you go until you can’t even fucking think straight. Fuck–  how are you so soft…” Bucky’s hand was now exploring your body, gripping your ass, tracing your stomach, and going straight to your sensitive boobs. He never wanted to have both arms as much as he does now, to touch every curve of your body and find everything that makes you feel good.

“Bucky!” Your hands pressed against his chest, and your head fell back with a moan when he pinched your nipple in between his fingers. He chuckled softly before sliding his hand down, right to your dripping core.

“Doll, look at you.” His eyes were glued to the place where his fingers traced your folds. “Is this all for me?” 

“Y-yes, Bucky, please…” You almost cried at the feeling that he gave you. Even if it was a long time for him, Bucky definitely didn’t forget how to please a woman. Your legs desperately wanted to close from the stimulation on the clit, but since you were spread on top of him, you couldn’t do anything but whine and dig your nails into the hot skin under your hands. “Don’t tease me, just— Fuck!” 

“Taking my fingers so good, doll.” You knew that he was smiling because of your reaction as two thick digits slid inside of you, filling you so well but not enough at the same time. “You’re already ready for my cock, huh? Wanna feel how this pretty pussy stretches around me. C'mon, baby, help me.” Bucky moved his hips upward, and you felt how his dick was pressing on your ass.

“You have a dirty mouth, Barnes.” You laughed before reaching to the back, grabbing his cock, and lifting your body at the same time. You put the tip at your entrance, running his length through your folds and letting the head bump your clit as he collected your wetness, until you both couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. Bucky put his hands on your ass, pressing on top and allowing you to slowly take him inside of you.

It was too much. The burn of him stretching you was slightly painful, but it made you feel so full, as if the two pieces of puzzles finally added up. You both moaned, your head fell back, and you tried to go slowly and adjust to his size.

Bucky’s hand tightened on your hip, probably leaving red marks. He breathed deeply to control his fast-beating heart. You felt so fucking good, all wet and tight for him, that it was hard not to move his hips into you. But it was obvious that you needed some time based on your tensed body and slightly opened mouth.

“Bucky…” Your eyes were flattering, not being able to completely focus on his face. You thought that you could just fuck him and take control, but you didn’t expect to be this cock drunk before either of you even made a move.

“So pretty lookin’ like this baby.”

“‘M so full…” You moaned, gripping Bucky’s hand and interlacing your fingers. 

You found a comfortable position, holding yourself with one hand on Bucky’s chest. The first movement of your hips was shocking, sending goosebumps all over your body. You both loudly moaned when you moved up, until he almost slipped out of you, and then down, burying his cock deeply inside. 

Bucky’s lower half slightly moved up when his non-existent left arm wanted to grab your hips, and you must’ve noticed the disappointment and anger written on his face because you leaned a little bit lower and freed your hand from his grip, moving it to his face. 

“That’s okay, Buck, just relax, please? Don’t worry.” You cooed in the softest voice. Your hips started to slowly move at a stable pace.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” He mumbled, and you felt that his body started to thrust into yours, so his cock perfectly touched your g-spot.

It became more intense with every minute. The little hut was filled with the smell of sex and the sound of your moans, combined with the skin slapping. You were too desperate for each other, trying to reach your climaxes but not wanting this moment to end. 

Bucky tried to touch you as much as possible; he wanted to make you feel good, give you satisfaction, and fulfill his own needs in your presence. He moved his hand from your ass to your stomach and boobs, then to your face, bringing you closer for another hot and passionate kiss. He was all over you, hungry to get more and to remember every centimeter of your perfect body. 

You two moved in perfect rhythm, meeting each other's movements.

“Please, Bucky– it’s so good, fu-uck, I’m gonna cum.” You cried out loud, feeling that your body was starting to go numb from your approaching orgasm. 

“Such a good pussy, takin’ me so well. ‘M close too, baby; ride my cock, c’mon. Get what you need.” He slapped your ass, encouraging you to move faster. “So pretty wrapped around me. Can I cum inside you, hm? You’ll let me feel you up?” 

Your head quickly nodded while you didn’t break eye contact with the man in front of you. Bucky bit his lip, trying to control himself and get you to the finish first, but you looked so fucking good on top of him, with your boobs jumping up and down, that he knew he couldn’t hold himself any longer. So he brought his hand to the lower part of your stomach, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit. 

That was the breaking point for you. You completely lost control over your body, barely being able to stay still when the waves of pleasure were breaking through you.

“Good girl. You can almost feel me in your stomach, yeah?” Bucky’s palm was feeling every thrust of his dick with the palm of his hand, and it felt fucking insane. “Fu-u-uck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me, ‘m not gonna last longer.” He moaned, losing his rhythm too, while you fell down on his chest, too overwhelmed and overstimulated. 

You felt the last movement of his hips until he froze, moaning into your ear, and emptied himself deeply inside of your spasming pussy. You unconsciously continued to squeeze around his cock, getting every single drop, as if your body was greedy to get more of his load.

“I don’t feel m’ body…” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy, and wrapped your hands around Bucky’s body. 

“Sleep, baby.” The soft material fell on your back, covering your naked bodies. You felt a light kiss on top of your head, and Bucky’s arm hugged your back, holding you closer to him. 

You couldn’t be sure, but right before you drifted to sleep, you heard something that weirdly sounded like “I love you.” 

pt.2

[aughhay]

Raian and y/n fight so he pulls over the car and teaches her a lesson!!

𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲? || 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐞

“𝗍𝖼𝗁, 𝗇𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗋.”

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭; dubcon, blood, dirty talking, arguing, cursing, slapping, hair pulling, degradation/humiliation, public sex, raian’s wearing sweatpants.., cramped space, biting, facefucking, rough play, you & raian are complicated, cum in mouth

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; smut with gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1.2k+, scrapped the actual sex part.

a/n; i did not proofread any of this shit 😦 im so sorry but WE HIT 40 NOTES ON THAT OHMA FIC IM SO HAPPY

18+ !!!

it’s about that time at night where raian turns into an egotistical asshole while driving, he starts noticing the streets are almost bare and grows a petty smirk. raian’s brain lights up with ideas to fuck with the remaining drivers on the road, make them pull over out of sheer fear or argue with them back and forth whilst going over the speed limit. it’s nothing new, but you’re sick of dealing with it as his passenger princess.

“raian, slow down a little.. you’re speeding..—“

“speeding? ha, you think this is fucking speeding?! this is nothing!.. i’ll show you and all these other bastards real speed.”

raian’s grin was as malice-filled as it was dark. his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he glanced over at you. he chuckled, barely audible, the sound mingling with the growl of the car engine as he pushed the pedal even further. your figure plunging back into the leather seat without warning. your head is in a swivel, hearing the beast's uncontrollable laughter as your body tries to adapt to the frenzied speed of the car.

the tension in the car became unbearable, the mix of danger and adrenaline filling the small space. his eyes flicked back to the road as you contemplated his words, the car's speed climbing with his expectations.

“stop the fucking car! it’s not funny, take me home raian.”

“you’re not going home ‘til i say so, and i say you keep your dolled up ass frozen in that passenger seat.”

his implications hang heavy, tangible as the charged air between you. raian’s hand, powerful and capable, finds a resting place on your thigh, digging into your skin without remorse. a reminder of his presence, his power. though your protests aren’t getting through to him one bit, the sound of your stern voice gets him hot, coaxing more out of you.

the car's interior feels stifling, tension thick between the two of you as headlights and street lamps streak by. you can tell by the tenseness of his jaw and the unwavering hardness pressing against his pants that his ire was vying with raw need. the silent car became a den of smoldered urges, one palpable exhale away from combusting.

“tch. little bitches like you always like to chat, don’t they?—“

“you may think you can bully all these other people on the road, but not me! you need to treat me with respect!”

“what makes you think you deserve my fucking respect? the fact that my cum was swishing inside of you last week makes you think i gotta be fucking jolly to you? hah! what a fucking joke.”

“fuck you!”

“fuck me?”

“fuck you! pull this car over now!”

raian’s scratched voice had a sick grin emerge deep inside. his eyes crinkling from a smile that could cause a god fear.

“if you were so worried ‘bout it... maybe you should have done somethin' to distract me, hah? could’ve curbed my fuckin' enthusiasm. but whatever..”

to hell with that alleyway three feet ahead as he swerved into it, his car jerks to a halt in the seclusion of the dark space. every tick slowed as he turned the headlights off and locked the car doors. even as time felt like it slowed, the hand that laid on your thigh switched to your locks in a quick snap.

“ah!—“

your squeak is muffled by the tight grip in your hair, raian’s jaw ticking as he watches the range of emotions play across your delicate features. he releases a chuckle, a sound scarred and throaty.

“d—don’t touch me!”

“that’s it, isn’t it? you love pissin’ me off ‘cause you know exactly what it leads to. fuckin’ freak. you’re lucky i’m hard too, would’ve kicked you the fuck out by now.”

“gonna make good use of you.”

the words come with a growl, his lips inches from yours as he leans closer, a silent promise of retribution or perhaps a dark form of foreplay.

without warning, his lips crash against yours, an aggressive and possessive kiss that leaves you breathless. it wasnt the kiss itself that made you feel that way, it was the harsh bite on your lips that took the air out your longing lungs. the anger that had been simmering between you diffuses gradually with each forceful movement of raian’s blood covered tongue against yours, seemingly battling for dominance. the sensation of being so thoroughly claimed by someone as fierce and relentless as this man sends a thrilling shiver coursing through your body.

your hands meet with his chest, at first to push him away. this kiss stings, it hurts along with his hand still tangled near your scalp. but as his tongue meets with yours, your head feels fuzzy and your hands relent against his shirt.

raian pulls back his face, mouth open tongue exposed, the mixed saliva dripping from the tip of his tongue as he pants.

“yeah, gonna use you ‘til you break.”

his hand pushes you to his crotch, un-busied hand pulling down his sweats as he stares down at you with anticipation. but as his cock pops up in front of your face, you just can’t stop yourself. his musk is too addictive as you kiss up and down each vein, his member twitching against your crimson red lips.

raian isn’t impressed, at all. a bored expression as he grumbles and slaps your cheek, not full of pain but enough to sting for a few seconds. his hips forcefully separating your soft lips as he uses your mouth. pushing your head down to the base where his pubes tickle your skin. you salivate and gag on his cock, looking up at his face as your head bobs up and down on his length. eyes hazy, you turned into a mess in seconds.

“fuck yeah.”

his gruff whisper barely slices through the stillness, his large hand tangled in your hair, guiding your head in a gentle rhythm. you feel his girth stretch your lips, his hand tightening ever so slightly each time he meets the deeper side of your throat.

every rough thrust interrupts your breath, leaving you gasping, eager, the sound of your muffled gagging mingles with the leather seats squeaking. raian’s assertiveness envelops you, his satisfaction clear in the grunt that escapes him when you hollow your cheeks, the slurping sounds filling the tight space of the car.

he hears the undeniable sounds of your commitment, the involuntary noise that escapes you as he continues to test your limits. the car jostles lightly from his movements, the energy of your eagerness causing the heavy vehicle to rock gently. raian’s breathing becomes ragged, a stark contrast to his usual, nonchalant demeanor.

the sounds of your lewd dedication, the steady rhythm of your gagging, drive raian closer to the edge. with his focus now entirely on you. moments become stretched, every touch, every noise heightened as he surrenders to your oral ministrations, his release imminent.

“fuck— gah!”

his words cut off, a deep chested grunt filling the car as his grip on you becomes a vice, his body tensing. you feel his pulse quicken, the unmistakable twitch as he empties himself, your devotion unwavering. his cum splurts into your throat without warning, your coughing audible as it sticks inside your mouth and makes it a struggle to swallow.

raian laughs at your tussle, pulling you away and into the backseat.

[codfanficedits]

Before the mask - Part fourteen

Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Because Simon wasn’t born as Ghost.

Wordcount: 2160 | Rating: E! (18+ only!)

Warnings: Simon discovers a sexual side of himself, but it is just mentioned briefly

A/N: Survived my surgery, still in a lot of pain, but I lived, bitches.

Feel.

How is one supposed to just feel, to just experience these feelings? Simon didn’t know how, but he decided to just roll with it. His face gets buried into your abdomen, his tears staining your shirt.

“I.. I..” His voice dies down for a second. “God it feels so silly.” Simon said, trying to ease the tension he was feeling, yet he didn’t let go off you for a single second.

A safe haven, an anchor, the light that guided him in the darkness. God he loved you more than anything.

A few deep breaths and he wipes away his tears. “So, how long does this stuff needs to dry for?” He asks, trying to change the subject.

“Around a day.” You answer and Simon has to think for a little.

“But tomorrow we’re both on duty.”  He said. “And once we’re both done, it’s only one more night until Halloween.”

“Seems like you can still count, Riley.” You chuckle, wiping the last of his tears away with your thumb. “I’m scheduled for training the upcoming days, and it’s supposed to be a tough one, so you might have to start painting without me.”

“But what if I fuck up?” In his stomach an uneasy feeling begins to grow, what if he messed up your hard work?

“What if you don’t fuck up?” You counter. “We made three masks, the world won’t decay if one doesn’t turn out the way we wanted. Hell, the world will even keep spinning if all three don’t end up the way we want them to. They’re masks, for Halloween, they don’t have to be perfect.”

His brows knit together, and it feels like silly words, because everything he does needs to be perfect, and it goes against his nature to not deliver perfect work.

Being as close to perfect as he could had provided him with praise of his teacher, and later on his superiors, what would he be without that kind of praise?

It was almost funny to see, a big, burly soldier, who could be arrogant at times, was secretly so insecure of who he was. Pretending to not care, only to thrive of the praise of others.

Your hand grips his chin and you force him to look up at you again.

“It doesn’t matter if it is perfect, it matters if you’re happy with it.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Simon protests softly. “But it isn’t easy.”

“I know, I know.” Your hand goes through his hair again. “But I’m there with you, every step of the way.”

Simon has to swallow a lump in his throat, the uneasy feeling in his stomach takes over his lungs, his heart, his brain. “Why do you do this?” He asks

“Why do I do what?” You ask, unsure what is going through his mind.

“You know I am broken, yet you still stay with me, trying to fix me.” He said, not understanding why you would put up with someone like him.

“That is where you’re wrong.” You chuckle, and Simon can feel his stomach drop fully. “I’m not with you, to fix you.” You add. “I fell in love with you while you were broken, and I didn’t fall in love with you to fix you.”

His head feels like it is spinning while he tries to listen to you. You loved him, even while he was broken? Of course he had heard you say it before, of course he believed you, but hearing you say it like this? Well, that made his heart beat even faster.

“I can be alongside you, I can be there while you try to figure it out yourself, but I love you, just the way you are.” You add.

“Even when I am like this?” He asks.

“Even when you’re like this.” You confirm.

God, how he loved you. How he would only ever love you.

It was okay to be him. No matter how hard life would be, no matter how difficult it could be.

Simon tightens his grip around you and his face gets buried against you again, he needs to feel your touch, worried that you aren’t real, and he can’t stand the idea of ever losing you.

Your fingers weave through his hair again, and Simon groans content. “You know.” He said with a chuckle. “I could easily get used to this, and never let you go.”

You laugh at his words. “That is not very soldierlike of you.”

“The army can suck my ass.” He mutters.

And it’s funny, the army had been his escape from life, his ticket out. But right now? Right now the thought of putting you in danger, of putting himself in danger felt like the worst thing that could happen and Simon didn’t want to risk it, because losing you would feel like he would have nothing left. Nothing more to give.

“Bollocks.” You chuckle. “You’re a good soldier, Simon, you can get really far if you want to.”

“Yeah? And what if I don’t want to?” Simon counters while he looks up at him, his arms still firmly wrapped around your waist.

“Then I would suggest to stop giving it your all and to be just as mediocre as the rest of us.” You said as your answer.

“Hmpf.” Simon is a little torn, he wanted nothing more than to succeed, to become the very best, but on the other hand.. He knew he was being too forward, that he was thinking about the future too much, but domestic life was starting to call out to him too. Just with you though, he couldn’t see himself do this with anyone else.

“What about you?” He asks, eyes locking with yours.

You have to think about it for a little bit, your fingertips tapping on his scalp while you try to think of what you really want. Usually you would just go with the flow, not trying to think too much ahead, but even you had some dreams you wanted to fulfil in the army.

“I think I would eventually like to become a lieutenant.” You answer. “I feel as if that would be the perfect balance between having ownership and responsibility and still having to report to people.”

Now that was something Simon had not expected, you seemed to have put some thought into this. A smirk tugs around his lips and finally releases you from his hold, giving you a quick peck on your lips. “My, my.” He chuckled. “Who knows, I might even have to start to obey you.”

“Who knows,” you counter. “I might even have to start to punish naughty soldiers.”

Fuck.

Oh fuck.

That was trouble.

Simon never knew about this side of him. The sudden jolt of heat that started to course through his veins. He clears his throat, unable to look you in your eyes. “Who knows.” He mumbles.

Of course you pick up his cues, they’re not even that subtle. You use your pointer and middle finger to lift his chin up. “What’s the matter? Use your words, pretty boy.”

Simon has to swallow hard, his throat feeling dry. Pretty boy. He was a soldier for crying out loud.

Well, it turned out he was a soldier with a preference to be called a pretty boy.

He hated how he could feel his cheeks starting to get hot, and he knew he was starting to blush like crazy. This would’ve been the perfect time to shut down again. He was a soldier, he was a man, he was rough, though. He was supposed to be dominant, he was supposed to be in charge. But here he was, mere seconds away from begging you on his knees. It made him feel vulnerable, and he hated that, but at the same time, it did make him feel safe that it was with you. You were the only person who wouldn’t judge him for this, at least, that is what he hoped.

“Maybe.” He whispered. “Maybe I would like to be your naughty soldier.”

A grin formed on your face, as you run your thumb over his bottom lip. “Is that so?”

And Simon nods before you’re done speaking. God, yes.

“Maybe.” You whisper, as you push your thumb between his lips. “Maybe we can arrange that.”

Simon knows what to do, and his tongue moves almost on instinct, swirling around your thumb.

“But not now.” You add. “I want to talk about it first. I want to get us a safe word, I want to do it when we’re both feeling good. Not right before our duty.”

He nods, your thumbs still in his mouth, this tongue still twirling around your digit. He is just really relieved you’re open to this, than you don’t find this weird, and by the way you’re looking at him, you’re into this too.

A soft whimper leaves his lips when you pull your thumb back, and he clears his throat immediately. “Yeah, no.” He said, trying to sound gruff. “We definitely need to talk about this first.”

Simon gets up from his seat, and he presses a kiss on your forehead. “I’m really lucky to have you.” He whispers, right before his lips gets pressed against your forehead again.

“I’m really lucky to have you too.” You murmur, closing your eyes for a brief second, savouring the sweet kiss.

A part of you was a little worried about your upcoming duty, you knew it would take a lot of your energy, and part of you wanted some alone time to prepare for duty, but at the same time, you wanted to stay with him. Spend as much time as you could together, before you would go back to being ‘just friends’ for the outside world.

“C’me on.” His voice reaches your ear. “Tell me what is going on in that pretty, little head of yours.”

“Well.” You said, with a sigh. “I have two things on my mind.”

Simon places a hand on the small of your back, holding you close to him. “Tell me, lovie. I can’t guess what’s going on.”

“When do you want us to become a public couple?” The words leave your lips before you can stop it.

Simon sighs, before you were his, he wanted to see you in his hoodie, he wanted other men to know that you were his. But now that he had you, he realized that there was some.. weakness to that. He didn’t want you to be considered leverage, he didn’t want any of you to get into trouble.

“I don’t know.” He muttered truthfully. “I.. Maybe I would like to wait a little longer.”

You nod, agreeing with his words, your love was still young, still fragile, it would be better to wait a little longer before going public. “Let’s just wait until people start to notice.” You propose, and Simon smiles at those words.

“Yeah, let’s wait until then.” He agrees, kissing your forehead again. “Don’t think I don’t want people to know about us.” He clarifies. “I just want to wait a little longer. That is all.”

It’s funny how it didn’t even cross your mind that he didn’t want to be seen with you, and for a brief second you could feel a new fear unlocking. “Yeah, no, sure.””  You agree, but your voice is a little unsteady.

Simon, however, does not pick up on your little hint, and you don’t have it in you to tell him straight away.

“What’s the other thing on your mind?” He asks.

Well, all you wanted now was to be left alone, to let your own thoughts linger in your head a little, maybe you were just overthinking this, maybe you just needed a nap and some food in order to sort yourself out.

“Well.”  You say, forcing a smile on your face. “We’re both on duty tomorrow, and I usually spend some time alone, so I can get some rest, so I can prepare, you know.”

Simon pushes away any sort of insecurity, he remembers the fight the two of you had because of this, and he doesn’t want to do that again. “I did nothing wrong?” He blurts out, and it does sound more desperate than he wants it to sound.

You shake your head. “Of course not. It is just my own little ritual, you did nothing wrong. I just want to prevent getting overwhelmed during duty.”

He could live with that, and he releases the tension in his shoulders. “Promise me you’ll find me if something happens, okay? If you have a nightmare or what not. I’m here.”

“I promise.”

Simon’s lips find yours after your little promise, and a very small part of him hopes he can keep you for a little longer, but he knows you need the time for yourself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks, after the kiss.

“See you tomorrow.”

[resowrites]

Stand By Me - oneshot (request).

Summary: Henry has to step up when the pressures of his fame have serious repercussions for his girlfriend…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, details of anxiety/panic attack, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 1507

A/N: My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Stand By Me - oneshot (request).

"So how long are you guys going to be here? I love your dress by the way… is that silk?" The fan standing in front of her grabbed the billowing fabric and Henry could feel his hand being gripped tight - the signal she gave when she was starting to panic. "Are you heading back to your hotel, cos we could have drinks?" The fan tried to take her by the arm and he immediately yanked her to his side.

"Uh, thanks but there's somewhere we need to be. It was great meeting you, enjoy the convention." Henry then whisked them both in the opposite direction, away from the beach and back towards their car. By then she was staring straight down and breathing hard. "I'm so sorry, darling. I knew we shouldn't have come here without Steve. I'll take us back to the hotel and you can have a lie down before dinner, okay?" But she didn't answer him, her concentration instead seemed fixed on her footsteps. It was a bad sign and Henry could feel a pit open in his stomach. "Darling, can you just nod to tell me you're okay?" Her eyes had glazed over and the grip on his hand was tighter than ever. By the time Henry opened the car door, she was as pale as a ghost.

He felt so guilty. Turning his attendance at San Diego Comic-Con into a mini vacation had seemed like a good idea, a chance for them both to spend some quality time together after he'd been away the last several months filming. But although he'd researched the route beforehand and taken care not to be recognised, four fans had stopped them in the space of twenty minutes and even he was beginning to feel stressed. Henry was sure they wouldn't need their bodyguard, Steve, for a simple trip to the beach, but the place was just too busy for him to move about unseen. He attempted to change the subject. "You know my brother sent me a video of Kal this morning, guess what he was doing?" Henry looked over and found she had her eyes closed. "Darling, are you feeling sick? Do I need to pull over?" A quick flick of her head was all she could do to respond.

It wasn't that she was shy or socially awkward, she just didn't feel safe in crowds of people - especially when they invaded her personal space or grabbed her. Once or twice would have been bearable, and he regretted not leaving before she was pushed past her limit. "Darling I don't want to ask this, but do you feel an attack coming on? I can pull over and help you regulate yourself?" Her eyes were open again but she hadn't blinked in almost a minute. Henry knew that look well - she was dissociating. "Okay baby girl, let's try the five-four-three-two-one technique, yeah?" She breathed in hard but remained silent. He wracked his brain for another idea. "Okay, how about a butterfly hug, then? Cross your hands over your chest, and do eight sets of alternate taps, there's a good girl." But just as Henry turned his gaze back to the road, he saw something ahead of him flash twice. A camera. He swerved and took a back street, leaving the huddle of photographers at the side of the road far behind them. They were clearly there for the convention and may not even have taken their picture, but he was taking no chances.

"What's going on? Henry, what's happening?!" He'd hoped she hadn't noticed the flash, but unfortunately, the quick change in speed and direction gave her another reason to panic.

"Darling take some breaths, we're almost at the hotel, okay?"

"Henry, you're not answering me, what's going on? Is someone chasing us?!" She looked in the rearview mirror and started hyperventilating.

"No, darling! Please don't be scared, nothing's going to happen. I won't let it--"

"Just like you didn't let it back there?!" Her almost breathless response startled Henry, and as soon as he pulled up beside the parking valet, she darted from the car and into the hotel foyer. But he wasn't fast enough to chase her into the lift and when he finally entered their suite, she was nowhere to be found. Henry called out her name three times, tried ringing her twice, and then resorted to phoning the front desk to see if she had actually checked out and gone elsewhere. But all they could confirm was that she'd arrived just before him. Henry sighed and placed the phone back into the receiver. A terrifying thought then entered his head and he dashed onto the balcony, hoping against hope that he wouldn't find her there.

Henry breathed a sigh of relief when he slid back the doors and found the space out there empty. But where had she gone? Surely she wouldn't leave without coming back to their suite first? He crossed into their bedroom, hoping to get changed before he went out to look for her, and noticed what he thought was a noise coming from their ensuite. Tentatively, he pushed back the door. "Oh, darling…" There she lay, curled up in a ball next to the bath, sobbing. Henry planned his next movements carefully. Firstly, he turned off the bathroom light, leaving the room bathed in the glow from the hallway. Next, he plucked a towel from the rail above him and placed it carefully over her body.

When her cries became less desperate, Henry laid down beside her and gently ran his hand up and down her back. He kept his voice soft and low. "There we are, you're doing so good for me, sweetheart. Shushhh, breathe. Gently, darling, gently." Eventually, her body stopped shaking and she staggered to sit up. Henry smiled, hopeful she was through the worst of it. "How are you feeling now, darling?" She looked down at her hands uncomfortably. "It's alright, I'm right here. You're safe now." Something flashed across her eyes.

"And where were you when your fans were pulling me from pillar to post? That was really scary, Henry…" Her voice caught in her throat and he felt a lump in his.

"I'm so sorry, darling. You have every right to be angry--"

"I'm not angry, I'm terrified! I had no idea who those people were or what they were going to do to me--"

"You're right, and it's totally my fault, I should have taken us straight back to the car after the first encounter. I didn't think the promenade would be that busy at this time of day…" Henry's voice trailed off once he realised how badly he'd let her down. "I'm so, so sorry. I should have done more--" she gave a soft sigh and placed her hands on the arms he'd wrapped around her waist.

"You do a lot--"

"But not on this occasion. God I can't believe I was so stupid, I should have got you out of there--"

"It's fine. If anything I've failed you. If I was stronger, I'd be able to cope better--"

"What are you talking about? You have every right to feel upset. And you cope fantastically--"

"Clearly not or I wouldn't fall apart like this! We can't carry on like this, Henry. You need someone who can properly support you. All I am is a burden--"

"Stop right there." Henry hopped to his feet and quickly pulled her up with him. "Now you listen to me, you never have been and never will be a burden--"

"So what do you call crying in a heap?!"

"But it's my fault! No one should be cornering you in the street, putting their hands on you, or asking questions. It's my job to keep that part of my life separate and I need to do a better job from now on." She gazed into his pale blue eyes and shook her head.

"And what if it's not enough? What if this lifestyle just isn't me?" Henry smiled at her sadly.

"Well, it's hardly me, either. But that's why we're so good for each other, darling. We're each other's safe space. I don't ever want you to think how you react under stress is wrong or too much--"

"But it is!"

"Well, not to me because you're everything to me! And you have my word, I won't ever put you in that situation again." He then turned to the sink and ran a hand towel under the tap. "Here, let me put this on your wrists--"

"Why? What will that do?"

"Well, for one it's a good distraction. It also forces your neurotransmitters to refocus. Let me get you some ice to chew as well--" Henry turned to head into the bedroom but she pulled him back.

"… Thank you. Not just for this, but for everything you do--"

"You'll never need to thank me, darling. Ever. I promised to protect you for the rest of my life and it's a promise I intend to keep."

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo

[daboyau]

Hey, for the writing challenge, I'd be interested in seeing 38 for whichever of your AUs you prefer, if you're not overwhelmed!

Also, your latest chapter for the Hunger Games AU is so good! Donnie helping Digi and Gizmo is a little heartbreaking. He wants to be cold so bad, but no. And the descriptions were so excellent. I want to see all the designs! Especially the farmer and the corn haha. That cracked me up a bit:D Thanks for writing, I love to read it!

Sorry this took so long!! For some reason “hole” was just not wanting to cooperate with me! I had a handful of fleeting ideas (Zombie au, raph’s death in the bad timeline, shell rot, after the foot cass joins a cult that worships The Pit instead, etc) but ended up going with something for my Leave AU. I feel like I should have written you something RHG related since you gave me such a kind compliment about the last chapter. 😭 alas, my brain didn’t want to cooperate there. I hope you like this regardless!! @eb177

@boots-with-the-fur-club

It’s the fifth time they’ve run through this drill, but for some reason, Three just can’t seem to wrap his head around it. There’s something in the footwork, and the transition from one flowing movement to the next that he just keeps missing. His brothers are eyeing him nervously now. Their movements slow just a little, trying to give him time to catch up, or the opportunity to see how their steady movements differ from his own clumsy ones and fix his mistakes. 

Draxum has noticed. He’s watching them, eyes narrowed, lip curling with disdain. Three knows he should be better, just like he knows that his blundering and his brothers’ trying to cover for him will mean they get punished, too. He can’t let that happen, so he needs a way to draw all the attention (and all the ire) towards himself. Draxum draws closer, fury in his expression, a look that promises punishment for their unsatisfactory performance. Three’s heart is pounding hard against his plastron, and it’s easy to see that their creator is out for blood. 

When Draxum tells them to do it again, Three waits for him to circle closer. Then, he lets his ankle twist. He lets himself fall. 

One gasps and Four covers his mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his whimper. Two freezes, expression empty but eyes gone glassy and distant. Three barely has time to hit the ground before Draxum’s hand has circled his arm with bruising force, claws digging into muscle as he hauls him to his feet and drags him from the room. His brothers try to follow, but Three frantically shakes his head at them, eyes pleading. They fall back, watching him until the door slams shut between them.

He knows where they’re going. The fear is already rising like bile in his throat, choking him. It’s hard to breathe, and Draxum is so much bigger and he’s dragging him along now because Three is too short to keep up on his own, and the mark his grip leaves on his arm is going to take forever to heal, and he knows that this is going to hurt, and all he can think is at least it’s just me. 

The lab is usually forbidden. The only time Three is taken inside it is when he’s done something wrong. Something bad. Something that will require their creator to pick him apart to discover exactly what it is that has malfunctioned inside of him this time. Three doesn’t like the lab. 

There is a pit, tucked away in the corner. Maybe it used to be used for something good. Like a well, or a place to burn trash. Now it is used to hold them until Draxum has the time he requires to run his tests. To poke and prod and rip and cut and get answers to his many questions and grievances. 

Last time, he’d spent four days down there before Draxum had deemed it convenient to begin. Three trembles despite his best efforts to hide the fear that rises within him. The waiting is almost as bad as the tests. He wishes that Draxum would just get it over with, but he knows he’ll never get that lucky. After all, he’s the one who always puts himself into this position. He should just feel grateful that none of his brothers will be down there with him.

He hovers at the edge of the hole, his position held in the balance only by his creator’s hand on his arm. He wonders how long it will be this time. Draxum’s angry gaze tells him that he won’t like the answer. 

Draxum lets go of his arm. For one terrible, stomach churning second, Three remains where he is. Heels overhanging the emptiness, balanced only on his toes, swaying slightly as he stares up at his creator’s face. Draxum sneers. He presses one finger into the center of Three’s plastron. 

He tips backwards, into the darkness.

[vigilvntes]

A Little Company – Adrian Chase x Reader

A/N: this is a prequel to I got so fucking romantic, I apologise (which you can find on my masterlist!!) like this is quite literally just a fic of how vigilante and shadow from that fic met. you don't have to read the other fic, like at all! it's totally optional! but vigilante!reader x adrian is my favourite thing, and i have SO many ideas for this concept, including a direct follow on from this fic so if you want it?! let me know?!

feel free to send me fic/headcanon requests !!!

likes and rbs are appreciated <3

W/C: 4k+

Warnings: language, violence (use of knives, guns etc), mentions of kidnapping, vigilante being a Weird Little Guy™️

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

“Hey, what're you doing?”

You don't panic. Instead, you drop your sniper from your shoulder quickly, cringing slightly when it hits the concrete of the rooftop. You stand up and twist your body, stepping away from the edge of the rooftop to press a gun up to the masked forehead of your interruptor. It seems he had the same idea, as his gun is firmly pressed against the black leather of your mask before you can even blink.

“Who the fuck are you?” You hiss.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“I asked first, motherfucker! I swear you better tell me who you are and why the fuck you're here or I won't hesitate to pull the trigger.” You threaten, gripping your gun tighter. Your finger brushes over the trigger. A warning.

“Maybe I won't hesitate either.” He retorts.

“Then. Don't.”

The two of you stare at each other for a few moments. Well, you assume he's staring right back at you, the red visor covering his eyes makes it hard to tell. Eventually, he lets out a quiet sigh, “Fuck. Fine.” He raises his gun-free hand, showing you that he's somewhat surrendered. “You're fuckin’ hardcore.”

“Tell me who you are.” You demand. He may have relented pretty quickly, but he has one last chance to explain who he is before you decide it's not worth the trouble and blow his brains out.

“Vigilante.”

“Vigilante?” You scoff. It has to be the most stupid, on the nose name you've ever heard.

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “My friends call me Vig. But we're not friends, so you can't call me that.”

Yeah, no shit, you think.

“And let me guess, you're a vigilante?” You mock, fighting back the urge to laugh with all of your strength. You feel slightly bad when you notice his shoulders sink. But then you remember that he interrupted your mission, and then you feel slightly less bad about it.

‘Vigilante’ drops the gun from your forehead. “Yeah, and what about it? I bet your name isn't any better!” He sounds genuinely offended.

You return the favour and drop your arm. “Really? Because I don't think it can get any worse than ‘Vigilante’. I mean, that's so uncreative, man. And it's a shame, because I'm actually really digging the suit.”

He visibly tenses, “Oh. You like my suit?” His hands pat at the utility belt sitting on his waist and the coloured stripes on his chest. “I made it myself.” He tells you, sounding almost shy about it. You can hear the smile in his voice, though.

“Yeah. It's really cool, actually. I like the visor. Does it… do anything?”

Vigilante tucks his gun back into his belt, swaying on his heels slightly. “Nah. I mean, I wear glasses so… it's a prescription visor. That's all it does. Helps me see.”

You can't fight off the giggle that escapes from your throat, so you allow it. Just this once. “Your visor is prescription?! Dude, you have to be shitting me.”

He breathes out a laugh, “Yeah. It was a pain in the ass to get a hold of. I almost exposed my secret identity, like, three times.”

You nod, somewhat sympathetic to his situation. “Yeah, I can imagine.” You know all about almost exposing your secret identity. Having multiple black leather masks delivered to your house every month is probably a cause for concern. You're sure your delivery service, and even your neighbours, either think you're a murderer (which isn't exactly untrue) or a dominatrix.

“Uh, your suit is cool, too. It's… fitting. Not in that way, though. I just mean that… It suits you! Not that I would really know since I haven't seen your face and we've only just met. It's also fitting in the other way, just in case you were wondering. It hugs your body just right.” He nods once, an affirmation of his words before he awkwardly folds his arms across his chest. You just stare at him for a few moments.

You're not sure why you're talking to him, or why you're allowing him to overstay his welcome like this (not that you'd given him a warm welcome anyway). Anyone else would have been dead at your feet within minutes if they pulled a gun on you like he did. But Vigilante is… surprisingly charming. There's an awkwardness about him, but the charm is definitely there. Not to mention he's made you laugh. Sure, you were laughing at him more than with him, but it's still a point in his favour.

You shake your head, stopping your own thoughts before they wander any further. You still have a mission to complete. “Well, it's been nice talking to you. I have to, uh… Get back to it.” You tell him, using your thumb to gesture over your shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah. Cool.” Vigilante nods at you, giving you a thumbs up before nervously scratching at the back of his neck.

“Cool…” You say under your breath. You turn your attention away from him and pick up your sniper, hoisting it back over your shoulder again. You hear no footsteps, but you assume he's gone. Maybe he's just light on his feet.

So, you kneel down at the edge of the rooftop and look through the scope. A wave of relief rushes through your body when you see that the men you had been tailing through Evergreen all night, the bastards who currently have a young woman tied up in the trunk of their car, are still standing outside of the abandoned building across the street. They're still waiting for their contact to arrive. They're still an easy target. If you shot one of them right now, and the other ran, you're confident in your ability to take him down before he could even make it halfway down the street. You take a deep breath to steady yourself and set your sights perfectly, just two seconds away from pulling the trigger. And then—

“So what are we doing?”

You drop your rifle for the second time tonight, your shot once again ruined by fucking Vigilante. When you turn your head, you see him knelt down beside you, observing the scene. Shaking your head incredulously, you scoff, “We are not doing anything. I— Why are you still here?” He's well and truly overstayed his welcome, and you're getting pissed off.

“I don't know. Figured I could help.” He mumbles, shrugging his shoulders casually.

“I don't need your help.” You spit back.

“In my defence, I never said you needed my help. Maybe I just wanna help? I can be your backup. Not— Not that you need backup. I'm sure you can handle it on your own. But those guys look tough— Not that you're not tough, either. I just don't really have anything to do tonight. My buddy’s banging a girl he met at a bar last night and—...”

A harsh sigh from you cuts him off. “Those guys have a woman in the trunk of their car. I don't know who she is, but I can only assume they're planning to sell her or kill her. I found out about their plans earlier tonight from a contact of mine but I couldn't stop them from taking her in time. So I’m stopping them now. Satisfied?” You give him a pointed look.

He nods, and your gaze lingers on him for a moment longer before you go back to looking down the scope, lining up your aim.

“Hey, you never told me your name.”

“Vigilante…” Your voice is low. A warning. This is a race against time and you can't allow yourself to be distracted like this for much longer. If the girl was taken inside, your job would get a whole lot harder. You want to avoid that, if possible.

A quiet, “Sorry.”

Sighing for what feels like the hundredth time, you mumble, “Shadow. You can call me Shadow.”

“Shadow?!” He exclaims suddenly, making you jump slightly. You can only hope he didn't catch that.

“Yeah…?”

“You ripped on me for Vigilante and your name is Shadow?!”

You look over at him, your mouth agape, “Are you kidding me?! Shadow is a fucking cool name! It's simple and effective!”

It's Vigilante’s turn to laugh now, and boy is he rubbing it in. He leans back on his heels, his hands clutching at his stomach. “And let me guess, you're called Shadow because you kill in the shadows?” He mocks, throwing his head back as he laughs.

“Oh, I'll be killing you in the shadows if you don't shut the fuck up.” You threaten. If looks could kill, Vigilante would be dead ten times over. Oh, how you wish looks could kill.

“I just don't understand how you could possibly think that ‘Shadow’ is a cooler name than Vigilante.”

You roll your eyes, glancing back down the scope, “I don't understand why you th– Fuck.”

“What is it?”

The men are gone. The car is, to your relief, still parked up outside of the building. You can only assume the woman is in there with them, and their contact has arrived. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucking FUCK. The last thing you wanted was for them to move their business inside.

Your job just got a lot harder.

You stand up quickly (your sniper hitting the ground for the third time), sheathing your knife and pointing it at Vigilante. He lets out an ‘oh fuck’ as he scrambles backwards, away from the knife that's currently a mere ten centimetres away from his face.

“I could fucking kill you. Right here, right now.” You hiss, venom laced into your tone. You're seeing red. It's tempting to just plunge the knife right into his skull.

“Me?! Why me?!” He squeaks out, looking up at you from the ground.

“Because you fucking distracted me! If you weren't here then I could've had this whole thing finished by now!” You want to scream in frustration. This is just one of the many reasons why you always work alone. Why you don't see the point or the appeal in having a partner anymore. Alone, you're completely in control. You don't have to look out for anyone else, and there's less opportunity for distraction. “I should've killed you the minute I saw you, because now I'm paying the price for being nice. I should kill you right now…” You pause, your breathing heavy and angry, nostrils flaring as you curse yourself internally for what you're about to say. “But I won't. Because I could use some help.”

He's silent for a moment, then he carefully asks, “You… You want me to help you?”

You roll your eyes and shove your knife back into its holster, “Yes.”

“Y–You need my help?” He stutters over his words, and if you were in any other situation, you might have found it kind of cute. Unfortunately for both of you, you're not.

“I don't need your help. I can handle myself. What I said is that I could use your help. It'd be useful to me.” You pat your body down quickly, accounting for all of your weapons. Gun number one? Check. Gun number two? Check. Knives? Check. Extra ammo? Check. You'll come back for the sniper. “And if you ask me to repeat myself for a third time, I'm gonna change my mind.” And I might just kick you right off the rooftop.

You don't even give him a chance to ask again, because you're already halfway across the rooftop, making your way to the shaky ladders you climbed to get up there earlier in the night. It's only when you turn your body and carefully place your foot on the top step, hands gripping the rusty bars, that you realise he isn't following you. He's just staring at you from where you left him on the hard concrete. “Well? Are you coming?” You demand a final answer.

“Fuck yeah, I am.” He mumbles, picking up his gun before scrambling to his feet and following you.

You both scale down the ladder, quickly descending until your feet hit the ground. That's when you start to panic, just a little bit. You prefer to be on higher ground, to have some kind of territorial advantage over your targets. It's not that you're bad at ground work, you just like to keep your hands as clean as possible. Literally.

Vigilante joins you on the ground, and the two of you get moving. You make your way around the building you'd been perched on only minutes ago, pressing your body against the wall on the corner when you reach the street, hiding yourselves in the shadows.

It's quiet. Buzzing streetlights and Vigilante’s quiet breathing is the only thing you can hear. Your own racing heartbeat, too. But you want to forget about the anxiety that's burrowed itself into the pit of your stomach. You can see the abandoned building. It's directly across the street from you, and the door is closed. You'll have to find your own way in. A window that you can shimmy through or another door around the back with a lock you can quietly pick at. Then you'll have to figure out how to not cause a commotion. You'll have to be stealthy, making a point to not—

“This kinda feels like a date.” Vigilante’s voice throws you off, ruins your concentration. You take your eyes off of the building and glance up at him with narrowed eyes, brows furrowed under your mask. He continues, “The more I think about it, this kinda is a date.”

“How is this a date?” You ask, bewildered because never in your life would you take rescuing a girl from a group of kidnappers to be a date.

“I don't know. I mean, this whole situation is kinda romantic, if you think about it. It could be classed as a date.” He shrugs.

"Romantic? Really?"

"Yeah. When you pulled the knife on me it was, like, the hottest thing I've ever seen. I honestly thought you were gonna kill me, but you didn't. And now I get to think about that moment forever. That's romance."

Vigilante has stunned you into silence. You can only stare up at him, mouth agape as he looks down at you. You're hoping he'll burst into laughter, and tell you that his warped idea of romance is just a joke. That he's just playing around. But he doesn't, so you just tell him, "This is not a date. I don't even know who you are.”

“Uh, yeah. You do. I’m Vigilante.” He tells you, sounding ever so slightly offended that you might have forgotten his name in the twenty minutes you've known him.

“That's not what I meant. I don't know who you really are. And you don't know who I am.”

Vigilante scoffs, “That's so irrelevant. Our alter-egos know each other and they could totally date. Like in those spy movies. The ones where the main characters hate each other but they're forced to work together under their alter-egos and eventually they fall madly in love.” He lets out a sigh that almost sounds… dreamy. As if he believes that this scenario is going to play out exactly that way.

You're hellbent on telling him otherwise. “This isn't a date. There's gonna be no falling madly in love, or whatever. You ruined my plan, and now you're helping me. And when we're finished here, we go our separate ways. That's the end of this story.”

Unfortunately, you and Vigilante make a pretty good team.

You were so hoping he'd be useless. That you had an excuse to never want to see him again after tonight. But you soon found out that he's smart, strategic. Capable. As soon as the two of you entered the building, he was focused and driven. That quirky persona he had before was no more. Vigilante was more than happy to take the lead for you; he snuck up behind the fuckers who kidnapped the woman and drove his knife into their skulls with precision and an alarming amount of stealth, holding his hand over their mouths until he was sure they weren't breathing anymore.

You didn't mind this arrangement, the less literal blood on your hands, the better.

Eventually, the two of you come to a halt outside of a small room right at the back of the building. You press your ear up against the wooden door, cursing when you hear a male voice coming from inside followed by muffled whimpers and cries.

“She's in there. With the contact.” You whisper to Vigilante. The guys you'd been tailing through Evergreen are already dead, lying in a puddle of their own blood near the entrance. You can only assume the fucker they were planning to sell the girl to is the owner of the voice.

“Want me to go in and fuck him up?” He whispers back.

You think about it for a moment. These guys have been pissing you off all night. You've been through a lot of trouble to save this girl. Of course, you don't mind. If it means she's safe, that's all that matters to you. But you would like to get the final blow. So, you reply, “No. I got this.”

Slowly, you take your knife out of your holster, and before you can even think about talking yourself out of it, you kick the door. It swings open violently, hitting the wall with a loud crash and you're sure you broke at least one of the hinges. Who cares? It's not like the building’s going to be used for anything other than criminal activity.

The man inside lets out a loud and confused ‘what the fuc–', but you move too quickly for him. You kick in his knees before he can even think about turning around or creating his own plan of attack. He's on his knees, wide-eyed and panicked, and you have one arm wrapped around his neck to hold him in place while the other holds your knife, pressing against the tender, stubbly skin of his neck.

He's younger than you expected him to be. When you heard the woman was being sold to a contact, you expected him to be some sick freak in his mid 50s. But no, he's probably younger than you; and given the way he's thrashing around in your hold, he's probably more inexperienced than you.

He's working for someone, and you'll find a way to get it out of him.

The woman is in the corner, watching the scene with wide eyes and muffled screams coming from her duct taped mouth. You give her a slow nod, trying to reassure her that you're not here to kill her. That you're on her side and you will get her out of here. She seems to calm down ever so slightly.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. P–Please don't kill me. I–I’ll do anything. Anything you want. You can have the girl. You can have whatever you want. Money? Do you want money? I–I can pay you! Please I— I have kids.” The man begs, his voice shaking.

“Ew. Why would we want your kids?” Vigilante asks from behind you, and the sudden appearance of a second voice only makes him panic more.

You can't help but roll your eyes at his squirming and pleading. “Why did you take her?” You ask.

“I– I don't know. I don't know anything. I swear!” He tells you.

Of course you don't believe that, so you press your knife against his neck harder, nicking at the skin, making sure you draw some blood. He lets out a sob, and in response Vigilante lets out a quiet laugh. “I don't believe you. Why did you take her?” You ask again.

“I– I don't know. I– I was just told to collect her. I think she– She tried to sell us out. Boss wanted to–”

“Boss?” You ask slowly. So he is working for someone.

“Oh fuck. I'm fucking dead. He's gonna kill me. He's gonna fucking KILL ME.”

Vigilante approaches now, kneeling down in front of the man. He places a hand on his shoulder, a reassuring gesture. “Buddy, no. He's not gonna kill you. You don't have to worry about that.” For a moment you're confused. You didn't take Vigilante to be the sympathetic type. But then he says, “Because we're gonna kill you first.”

Ah. That makes more sense.

“Who are you working for?” You tighten your grip on his neck, your knife pressing into his skin harder. If you have to kill him before you find anything out, you will; you'd just prefer to get at least something from him. He stays quiet, only whimpering and sobbing quietly to himself. “Look, you're as good as dead anyway. You might as well tell me which asshole you're working for.”

A moment more of silence. You're just about to drag your knife across his throat when he shouts, “Scorpion! I'm working for Scorpion! The girl– She– The girl was gonna sell us out! She has information on us– I don't– I don't know how she got it! Fuck, I don't even know who she is!”

“Fuck.” You hiss. Of course it's Scorpion.

“Scorpion? Who the fuck is Scorpion?” Vigilante asks, glancing up at you.

You just shake your head and screw your eyes shut, slashing at the man’s throat quickly. It's a deep cut, and the blood flows from the wound like a waterfall. He lets out a strangled yell, gurgling and choking on his own blood before you push his body to the floor. He stills after a few moments.

“Check the body.” You tell Vigilante, and he obliges, reaching into the pockets of the man you just killed. You make your way over to the woman quickly, shoving your knife back into its holster.

She panics as you approach her, pressing her back against the wall. She whimpers and writhes in her restraints, and you can't blame her. If you were a witness to what she just saw, you'd probably be afraid of yourself too. But you kneel down in front of her, and tell her gently, “You're gonna be okay. You're safe now.” You take out your pocket knife slowly, and her eyes widen. “I'm just gonna use this to cut your restraints, okay? Then we’ll get you out of here.”

She seems to calm down a little, and you take the opportunity to cut the duct tape around her mouth, peeling it carefully until she takes a deep, frantic breath through her mouth.

“Hey, Shadow?” Vigilante calls from behind you, and you glance over your shoulder at him as he stands over the body, inspecting the wallet he found. “This guy’s name was Robert Robertson. How fucking lame is that? You know, I think we did him a favour. Who wants to live with a name like Robert Robertson?”

“Oh, his parents hated him.”

You go back to cutting the rope restraints around the her wrists and ankles as she watches you, breathing shakily everytime the metal brushes against her skin. You offer her quiet apologies. Eventually, she's free, and you stand up, offering her a hand.

She doesn't take it. Instead, she asks you in a small, scared voice, “You're not gonna kill me, right?”

“No. Of course not.” You reassure her.

She's not convinced by your words. She looks at you with pleading eyes, and then her gaze flicks behind you, prompting you to turn around. You see Vigilante standing just a few metres away from you, flipping his knife in the air and catching it. You scoff, “Dude, can you put that thing away? You're freaking her out.”

“Sorry.” He mumbled, tucking his knife back into its holster, kicking his feet like a scolded puppy dog.

“We're not gonna kill you. I promise.” You tell her, offering your hand again. This time, she takes it, allowing you to pull her up to her feet. She stumbles almost instantly in her exhaustion, every muscle in her body aching and sore; you catch her, calling out to Vigilante.

He picks her up, and the three of you make your way out of the building and into the street.

It doesn't take long for your contact, Erica, to arrive. The woman is reluctant to leave you, insisting that you should come with her for protection. It takes around ten minutes for you to convince her that she'll be safe without you; that you trust Erica and she'll be taken somewhere safe.

You wave her off, and not long after you find yourself back on the rooftop with Vigilante.

“So… Scorpion. Who's that?” He asks, sitting down beside you as you pack your rifle and other miscellaneous weapons into your grey duffel bag.

“How long have you been doing… this? Like, how long have you been Vigilante?”

He shrugs, “Maybe five or six years.”

“And you've never had any run-ins with Scorpion or his men?” You ask, and he shakes his head in response. Lucky bastard. “He runs the biggest underground black market for illegal weapons in Washington. He chose Evergreen as his base for operations because it's relatively quiet. I mean, who would expect something like that to be happening here? He's been on my radar for… a while. And I’m on his.”

“You've met him?”

You take a deep breath, a few moments decide your course of action. You could tell the truth, or you could lie. Lying seems like to be the most appealing option. "No. I haven't met him. But I've made sure to be a pain in his ass, for sure. He probably knows about me."

You stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder before he can respond, making it clear that you're not interested in carrying on this conversation. You barely know him, and you don't feel it's necessary to reveal everything to him. “Anyway. Thanks for tonight. For helping me out. Even though it was kinda your fault that I needed help. It was… fun. I guess.” Fun? Did you seriously just say that?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” He apologises, sheepish. "I had fun too. Just in case you were wondering."

A silence falls over the two of you, allowing some time for you to collect your thoughts. You meant it when you said that it'd be fun, and that freaks you out. It's been a while since you've spent time with anyone outside of your workplace. Having friends means having baggage, something that others can use as leverage; that's something you can't really afford to have.

“So… Is there any way that I could, like… contact you?” He asks, kicking his leg back and forth nervously, his shoe scuffing against the concrete.

“You… You want to contact me?”

Vigilante shrugs, “Yeah. I don't know about you, but I think we made a pretty good team. Unless you disagree. Then I think it was awful and we should go our separate ways and never do it again.”

“N-no. I think… Yeah. I agree.” You stutter. You fucking STUTTERED. How dare your voice betray you like this? You want to grab your own shoulders and shake yourself. Scream ‘THIS ISN’T YOU’. You've proven to yourself time and time again that you're ruthless. That you don't need anyone's help, or anyone to look out for you. Yet here you are, agreeing that you and Vigilante did make a pretty awesome team, and that maybe you'd be open to meeting with him again. What the fuck is wrong with you? You're truly fucked.

Still, you pull out your burner phone and hand it over to Vigilante, “You can just… y’know, put your number into there.”

So he does just that, handing your phone back to you. “So, you'll text me? Or.. call me? Whichever you prefer. I know some people prefer to text because it's less pressure–...”

“I'll text you.” You assure him, giving him a quick nod before making your way to the ladders, wondering what the fuck just happened and when you'd decided to start being friendly with random Vigilante’s. Especially Vigilante’s that are literally called Vigilante.

You still think it's a dumb name, but that does nothing to wipe the stupid grin off your lips as you make your way home.

[loopspoop]

Guess what I decided to do? Write! Welcome to the first chapter of the Midnight Jacket AU! The boys are having a rough time with the normal amount of Lupin violence! Hope it’s enjoyable! It’s angsty as hell! Stay tuned for more!

“Don’t be so hasty. I want the brain of a genius villain.” Dr. Mad observed him through the door. He would make an excellent specimen…

“Brain?” Lupin hesitated, frowning more. He wanted his brain? Not this tired plot again!

“That’s right. That’s why I coughed up 30 million to buy you. Let’s get to work right away.” Dr. Mad smirked, lifting his cane as he grabbed the handle.

“Wait. First I have a question. Jigen. Where’s my partner Jigen?” Lupin stood and quickly made his way toward the door. He needed to make sure he was here and safe.

Dr. Mad pulled his tranquilizer gun from the handle of his cane. He pointed it through the bars, aiming at Lupin. He needed to start his work soon.

“Wait, wait, wait! Wait a minute!” Lupin’s eyes widened as he took a step backwards. Shit shit shit shit-!

Dr. Mad pulled the trigger, the tranquilizer hitting Lupin square in the forehead. He watched as the thief stumbled back against the wall before falling to the ground unconscious. This was going to be a grand experiment!

Goemon stopped in front of the cell door, frowning as he looked inside. Two weeks in this prison hadn’t been easy on Fujiko and Jigen. They were both dirty and definitely needed a good meal. It was odd that Lupin hadn’t gotten them out sooner…or contacted him…

“You two look like you have seen better days.” He spoke up, causing Jigen and Fujiko to look toward him.

“Goemon! Fuck- took you long enough!” Jigen stood, going to the bars quickly. “Where the hell is Lupin?”

“Yeah! He’s got some nerve leaving us in here for this long!” Fujiko stood, dusting herself off. “He better have a good reason for it or else he owes us big time.” She pouted, crossing her arms.

“I have not heard from Lupin since the three of you went missing. I heard he was sold to Dr. Mad from Inspector Zenigata in passing.” Goemon frowned, slicing the bars quickly before stepping back so they could fall.

“Wait, so…you haven’t seen him at all?” Jigen hesitated, stepping out from the cell as he looked around. What the hell?

“No. I was hoping he was with you two..if that is not the case then he must be somewhere else here..” Goemon frowned, looking down the hallway as he handed Jigen and Fujiko their weapons he had found on his way in. Something was really off….

“What do you think Dr. Mad has done with him?” Fujiko frowned, looking down the hallway worriedly. She certainly hadn’t figured he would’ve been in any danger.

“No idea.” Jigen frowned, checking his Magnum over. “Fujiko, scout us a getaway car. Goemon and I will meet you outside with Lupin in five minutes.”

Fujiko frowned, nodding a bit. “You two better get him and yourselves out in one piece or I swear I’ll sell all of your stuff online.” She wouldn’t really do that…but the threat was hopefully enough motivation.

“We will be back together, that’s a promise. Now hurry.” Goemon nodded, gently ushering her toward the way he had come from.

Fujiko gave them one last glance before running off for the exit. Goemon and Jigen watched for a moment before exchanging glances. They began their search of the rest of the lab, hallway after hallway. This building was confusing as hell and…why did this doctor need 35 plus storage closets?! All of the doors were either cells or closets…rarely a lab, but not one with Lupin inside. Jigen was getting anxious, which meant he was also getting prickly. Lupin was never this hard to find any other time someone tried to trap them. Something was up..it was making them both increasingly uncomfortable as thoughts of what could be wrong kept growing in their minds and getting more extreme.

“Something is wrong..” Goemon mumbled, gripping Zantetsuken tighter as he glanced around. He was good at staying calm but…this situation made him anything but calm…

“You’re telling me..Lupin usually isn’t this hard to find..or this quiet..” Jigen frowned, cracking a nearby door. “How the hell is this another storage room-?!” He hissed angrily. How the hell were they supposed to find him-?!

“Shh-!” Goemon’s hand quickly found its way over Jigen’s mouth. “Listen.” He looked at him as he frowned.

From down the hall they could hear the faint sound of rattling chains and something thudding against metal. Goemon took his hand off of Jigen’s mouth, glancing at him as he stepped toward the door silently. Jigen followed, holding his magnum tightly. Whatever this was…it was either Lupin doing something stupid or Lupin in a bad situation. Hopefully it was just him being a dumbass and they could all chew him out for it later…but somehow it seemed less and less plausible as they got closer to the sounds.

The two took position on either side of the door, Jigen’s hand on the doorknob as he looked at Goemon. Goemon nodded, holding up his hand as he began to silently count down from three. Whatever was on the other side had to be related to Lupin. They held their weapons tightly, Jigen throwing the door open once Goemon’s countdown ended. They both quickly ran into the room, Jigen’s Magnum raised and Goemon ready to unleash Zantetsuken and-

They stopped, eyes wide. Jigen nearly dropped his Magnum and Goemon faltered. The sight before them…this..was this actually Lupin? This was a joke right? A dummy put by Lupin for the doctor to find at an inconvenient time..? But dummies didn’t breathe, especially not the fast, shallow breathing of someone in severe pain. No, this was actually-

“Lupin-“ Jigen quickly made his way to his side, crouching beside him. Shit…

“What did he do to him..?” Goemon breathed, standing anxiously behind Jigen. This was all wrong..

Lupin sat against the wall, his wrists shackled and his legs bound. He was littered with fresh wounds and his body..his left eye was gone..and his left arm and both of his legs…and it was all replaced with metal. Burns littered the skin around the metal implants, the areas around the implants and wounds looked angry and painful, definitely infected. His body trembled, despite how much he was sweating, rattling the chains and causing his head to knock against the wall from time to time. That explained the banging.. He was stripped down to his boxers, his body looked dirty and worn down. He seemed…smaller..than normal. It made them both sick to their stomachs to see Lupin in that state. He just looked..wrong.

“Son of a bitch..” Jigen frowned, his hands raised but unsure of where to touch. “We need to get him out of this..” he began looking for locks on the shackles.

Goemon frowned, his face tense as he quickly cut through the cuffs and the binds around his legs. They needed to get Lupin out of here. Whatever ideas this doctor had were all sorts of twisted and disturbing. He should’ve come sooner to get them out of this..

“Okay, boss.” Jigen took a breath, gently trying to maneuver Lupin to get him off of the ground. He could’ve thought of a way out, he should’ve known Lupin wasn’t well off if he didn’t come for them…

Lupin jerked, gasping out raggedly as he began to weakly push away from Jigen and struggle. He was nowhere near conscious, but he knew being grabbed meant another new pain somewhere and something not feeling…right. Between the increased sensitivity of his cybernetics fused with his nervous system and the infected wounds across his body, everything was too much. He needed to get away, he had to get the hell out of here and get everyone to safety-

“Lupin-! Shit, Lupin, it’s us!” Jigen tried to steady him, grunting when Lupin managed to elbow him in the face to try to get him off.

“Lupin, it’s us! Let us help you!” Goemon tried, grabbing his other side as carefully as one could manage with a struggling, semi-conscious thief.

Lupin whined, struggling more fiercely. Smaller parts of his cybernetics began to break off of his arms and legs in the struggle, causing him to cry out. He had to get away- the others needed him! Something was wrong! He needed out! Escape-! Escape, escape, escape!

“JI-gEN-!! Go-GOEMON! Ple-EASE!” Lupin began to scream out hoarsely, jerking and twisting against the hands grabbing him. He needed out, he had to get out! He screamed louder, tearing up as he thrashed and hollered desperately. “FUJI- PLEASE! PL-PLEASE!”

Jigen froze, his grip slackening as his eyes widened. Goemon quickly let go of Lupin, his eyes frantically going to Jigen. They had never, ever, heard Lupin this desperate or pleading. They had never seen him so earnestly panicked, near tears. Lupin was a lot of things, but he was never this terrified in all the years they had know him…

“Lupin..” Jigen carefully took his hand in his own, his grip light. “It’s us. We’re right here, Lupin.”

“We will not let any more harm come to you.” Goemon frowned, gently trying to support Lupin with a hand on his back.

Lupin trembled, gasping and panting as his hands fumbled. He looked toward them, his eyes unfocused as tears streamed from his right eye. Was it really them? Or was this a hallucination brought on from pain? Could he handle it if it was a hallucination…? If he was hallucinating at this point it wasn’t good…

“Easy, Lupin. We’ll get you out of this, alright?” Jigen spoke softly, squeezing his hand faintly. He was going to kill that bastard doctor..

Goemon nodded, his thumb stroking against Lupin’s back softly. “Breathe. Everything will be alright. We are here now.”

Lupin whined softly, slumping toward them as he struggled to grasp more consciousness. “Jig’n…Go’mn…” he slurred, his body losing strength from the fight he had tried to put up. He hoped it was actually them…this being a hallucination would suck…

“That’s right. It’s us. Just take it easy and we’ll get out of here just fine..” Jigen carefully repositioned Lupin, holding him bridal style as he tried to stand. “Shit- he got heavy-!” He hissed, struggling a bit to stand.

“It must be all this metal..” Goemon frowned deeply, studying his replaced limbs. How could someone do this..?

“It is. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll put my project down and surrender yourselves now.” Dr. Mad snarled, holding his gun as he stood in the doorway.

“You-!” Jigen growled, holding Lupin closer as he stood behind Goemon. He couldn’t fire and hold onto Lupin, Goemon was their best bet.

“‘Project’?! How dare you!” Goemon glared angrily, his grip tightening on Zantetsuken. “Lupin is a person, not a machine or a specimen to be studied!”

Dr. Mad scoffed, smirking. “With a brain like his he could be the perfect super weapon! I’m merely improving the body! Once he is under my control fully, there will be nobody who could stop me! A genius thief with an indestructible body can get me anything I desire!”

Jigen scowled. This guy was disgusting… what the hell had Lupin gone through in his time here? How much had he suffered while they were just down the hallway? Was he even going to be able to recover from all of this? He glanced at Goemon, frowning more. They needed to get out of here and get rid of this bastard…

Goemon narrowed his eyes. “We failed Lupin before, but not again. You will never lay a hand on him again!” He unsheathed Zantetsuken, lunging at the doctor quickly

Dr. Mad fired at them, causing Jigen to duck out of the way behind a table with Lupin before he side stepped Goemon. “I’ve studied you too, samurai! You would all make perfect additions to my cyborg army!” He shouted angrily. “You can’t beat me!”

Jigen ducked as a bullet narrowed missed his hat, glancing at Lupin as the man flinched and trembled. He wasn’t doing good.. “Goemon!” They needed to hurry up and get the hell out of here…

Goemon glanced back at Jigen, his eyes flicking to Lupin before his clenched his teeth. Jaw set, he sliced across Dr. Mad quickly, sliding back in front of the table before clicking Zantetsuken’s sheath shut again.

Dr. Mad’s gun dropped to the ground in pieces. He laughed, looking at them as he smirked. “You-“ he hesitated, choking as his eyes became unfocused and blood began to pool at the front of his suit. “…missed-“ he gasped, stumbling forward before he fell onto the ground, blood spilling out around him.

Jigen frowned, stepping out from behind the table. “Good riddance…” he mumbled, stepping up beside Goemon. “Let’s get the fuck out of here..” he started toward the door.

“Mm..” Goemon grimaced at the body in disgust before looking back at the lab. He quickly grabbed some notebooks that were at a nearby desk and slipped them into his kimono before following Jigen. They would need all the information they could get..

The two made their way through the halls silently, only their footsteps were heard besides Lupin’s whining and shallow breathing. They’d have their work cut out for them in treating his wounds. Fujiko wouldn’t be pleased about this either, especially since they had definitely taken over five minutes..When they stepped outside, Fujiko glared at them from the getaway car.

“You assholes! What kept you so-“ she hesitated when she saw Lupin, her eyes widening. “…oh my god-“.

Jigen stepped up to the car, frowning. “We need to get to a hideout. Whichever is closest. We need to lay low for a while.”

Goemon opened the back door, getting in as he helped Jigen lay Lupin half across his lap and half across the backseat. “Preferably something well hidden.”

Fujiko bit her lip, taking a breath to steady herself as she nodded. “Alright…alright, I know a place.” She got into the car, starting it up quickly.

Jigen got in, glancing back to Lupin through the rear view mirror. He was obviously still in pain..and he looked like shit in light outside the dark lab. Pale and tired..dirty and wounded…he wasn’t used to seeing him that way..

Fujiko drove, keeping her eyes strictly on the road. She didn’t think she would be able to drive if she looked at Lupin too much… “what happened to him?”

“That doctor..” Jigen growled, grabbing a cigarette his pocket as he frowned. “Wanted to make him into some sort of cyborg to help him steal shit..”

Goemon frowned, running his fingers through Lupin’s hair to soothe him as he held him steady. He looked uncomfortable to begin with but the bumps in the road weren’t helping either..

Fujiko frowned, glancing at Jigen. She might not read Jigen as well as Lupin could..but she could tell whatever they had seen wasn’t something anywhere near good…she could at least assume that the doctor was dead and relax a bit about that..not that any of them would even be able to begin to relax any time soon. For now, they had to find a hideout that was secure enough for them to stay for a while while they sorted this out…

[dynamic-power]

Text Dirty To Me

More Kinktober :)

You can read it here on ao3

This is for sexting/writing, which means I have my second bingo!

Rated E

Words: 2.4k

CW: sexting; semy-public sex; masturbation; dirty talk; come eating

-----

Detective Milkovich is sitting at his desk in his office when the first text from his husband comes in. 

[5:22] Are you at your desk, baby?

The words are properly spelled out, he’s used punctuation, and he’s called Mickey baby. Mickey knows what’s next. Ian is going to use the last few minutes of Mickey’s workday to blow his phone up with texts so filthy that they’d make a seasoned porn star blush. 

[5:23] ya

He only has to wait a half-second for his phone to buzz with the reply. 

[5:23] Good boy

Mickey can hear Ian whispering those words into his ear, as though he has actually done something worthy of the praise. Mickey shivers, rubs his eyebrow with a thumb, and stares at his phone screen. The three dots indicating Ian is typing pop up. He glances up at his office door. It’s closed, like he knew it was, but he feels a little better nonetheless.

His phone buzzes in his hand and demands his attention again. 

[5:24] Don’t leave your desk. Do NOT touch yourself.

Mickey has to bite his lip to keep himself from making a noise. Despite his brain understanding how much of a bad idea this is, his body is already reacting to what he knows is coming. His heart speeds up and he feels warmth pooling in his belly. 

[5:25] why should i listen 2 u

[5:25] Because I’ll make it worth your time.

[5:26] i hav work 2 do

[5:26] Then ignore me.

[5:27] my phone will keep buzzin if u keep textin

It’s a piss poor excuse, and Mickey knows it. He can’t just let himself immediately give in, though. 

His half-hard dick would disagree. 

[5:29] You know how to get me to stop.

Of course Mickey knows. Ian is a horny bastard, but he isn’t cruel. All Mickey needs to do is type out one simple word, three letters. Everything stops as soon as one of them says “red”. If Mickey calls red, Ian will stop, maybe ask about ordering in for dinner, and Mickey can get back to the incredibly tedious paperwork he should probably finish before he leaves. 

Fuck it, he decides.

[5:32] fuck u

[5:33] Oh, no, baby, I plan on fucking YOU.

His paperwork isn’t getting finished tonight, and that’s okay; he’s almost never on time with it, anyway. He doesn’t close the file sitting in front of him, but he does set his phone down on top of it. He leans back in his chair, shifting to make himself more comfortable, as he watches those three little dots appear and disappear repeatedly. 

There’s a knock on his door, reminding him why this is a very bad idea. “Come in.”

Officer Barnes doesn’t come into his office, just cracks the door open and sticks her head in. “I got that report in to Fernandez,” she says, “in case you wanted to take a look at it. All the evidence has been logged, too.”

“Thanks, Barnes.” He doesn’t bother to look up at her. 

Barnes takes it as the dismissal that it is and Mickey lets out a breath when he hears the door click shut again. His phone buzzes and he wants to curse at Ian for the way his dick twitches in his slacks at the sound. 

[5:35] Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you when you get home?

He does. Jesus fucking Christ, he does. Clutching his phone in his left hand, he looks down and considers his chubbing cock. He really wants to reach down and grip himself. 

But two things are stopping him. First, there are still officers in the bullpen. His boss is still here, too. So there is a chance that his office door will swing open again and someone will catch him being a fucking horny perv at his own desk. And second, Ian had explicitly told him not to.

He finds the second reason much more compelling than the first and kind of hates himself for it.

[5:35] tell me

[5:35] I will, baby. 

[5:35] I’m going to shove you up against the door as soon as you’re home. 

[5:36] Kiss you, hard and sloppy the way you like.

Mickey does like that. He likes tasting Ian’s spit in his own mouth and mapping out his teeth with his tongue. He feels his face heat as he imagines the way Ian’s teeth would feel biting into his bottom lip. 

[5:37] I’ll make sure I’m naked by the time you get here, so the only clothes we have to worry about are yours.

With his job, he often wears suits, and Ian’s favorite part of this new wardrobe - in particular, the button-up shirts -  is taking it off of Mickey. He loves to do it slowly, pausing between each button to thoroughly explore the skin that has been revealed. Mickey has quickly learned to love it, too; Ian’s hands and mouth are often soft as he moves down Mickey’s torso. 

[5:38] That’s what got me so horny. Thinking of you in your suit and me completely naked and hard for you.

[5:38] Getting on my knees in front of you.

And fuck, that drives Mickey crazy, too. He can see it now, his gorgeous husband slowly sinking to his knees as he undoes Mickey’s shirt, ignoring his own aching cock in favor of getting to the skin beneath Mickey’s clothes. 

Mickey can’t help but let out a groan. He shifts in his seat again, pushing his hips up and swallowing hard as the movement causes his erection to rub against the fabric of his boxers. He’s hard now, and his hands are itching to do something, so he types out a message before Ian can continue. 

[5:39] suck me off

Ian stops typing for a moment. Only a moment, though. 

[5:39] Whatever you want, baby. 

[5:39] I’ll get your pants undone, pull them down, get out your dick. 

[5:40] You’ll be hard already from thinking about me on your drive home. Fucking slut.

[5:40] fuck yes i am

He is fucking hard and he can no longer think straight enough to be ashamed about it. He moves again, seeking out that little bit of friction. It’s not enough, but it’s the best he can do while he still can’t touch himself. 

[5:41] I’ll suck you down as deep as I can. Won’t go slow, I know how badly you’ll need to come. 

[5:41] Think you can come more than once for me tonight?

Mickey knows he can. And more than that, he wants to. They don’t do it very often, but occasionally, Mickey enjoys the overstimulation that Ian can force into a second, or sometimes even a third, orgasm. There’s something about giving up that control to Ian that makes Mickey feral. 

[5:42] fuck yes pls want that

[5:42] I want that too, baby. I’ll suck you off until you’re coming in my mouth. I know it won’t take long.

Mickey can imagine Ian looking up at him through teary eyes, spit and precum dripping down his chin and making a mess of him. He wants to hear Ian gag on his cock, wants to feel him moaning around the mouthful. He rubs his length against his boxers again; he knows he’s leaking and leaving a wet spot in the fabric.

[5:43] I love the way you taste. I’ll want to share. 

[5:43] I’ll kiss you again, feed you some of your own cum. 

{5:43] Watch as you swallow it.

“Jesus, Gallagher,” Mickey mutters as his dick throbs again. The arousal in his core gets stronger. He can’t remember the last time he was this hard while he was still clothed. 

[5:44] I’ll take you to bed then. Spread you out on your back and shove your knees to your ears.

[5:44] Do you want me to go slow when I finger you open?

[5:45] fuck no just get in me already

[5:45] need u ian 

Mickey doesn’t think there will ever be a moment in which he doesn’t need his husband, but that’s the sort of romantic shit that can wait. 

[5:45] I’ve got you, baby.

It can wait because at the moment, Mickey is starting to consider the possibility that he may come in his fucking pants. 

[5:45] I’ll do it as quick as I can. Might hurt a bit.

[5:46] u no i like the stretch

[5:47] I know. Which is why I know you’ll be begging me once I have the tip of my cock against your pretty pink hole. 

[5:47] yeah pls 

[5:48] I’ll push in, nice and slow. Fill you up the way you need. 

[5:49] Make you feel so full and right that you’ll forget what it’s like to not have me buried in your perfect ass. 

Mickey’s cock is begging to be touched as he starts a rhythmic push of his hips. The friction this provides is still not anywhere near enough, but Mickey is beginning to feel a little desperate. His asshole clenches as his body reminds him that he’s horny and empty. He makes a quick glance at the door. There would be nothing worse than someone walking in right now and seeing him behind his desk, humping the air and groaning like a bitch in heat. 

There’s a part of him that finds the idea of that ridiculously hot, but Mickey doesn’t want to think about that too hard. 

[5:49] Then I’m going to absolutely rail you. Fuck you so hard you can feel me in your throat. 

[5:50] Remind you who you belong to. No one can fuck you like me.

[5:50] Your prostate is so fucking sensitive. I’ll make sure to nail it every time, stroke your cock to make you hard again. 

[5:51] I know it’ll be uncomfortable, you just came, but I won’t stop. You’ll love it, won’t you? The pain in your ass and your cock. 

[5:52] I’m going to fuck you like that until you’re on the edge again. 

Mickey’s teeth are digging into his bottom lip as he tries his hardest not to whine. He knows Ian will make good on this; he is going to end the night on his back with his husband fucking him like their lives depend on it. 

[5:53] make me come

[5:53] Not until you’re home, baby. Drive safe, I’ll see you soon. I love you.

Mickey stares down at the phone with disbelief. That can’t be it, he thinks. His breathing is coming in ragged pants as he waits for the three little dots to appear again. 

They don’t. 

Fuck him, Mickey thinks. He doesn’t deserve Mickey’s first orgasm tonight, not if he’s going to leave Mickey high and dry like that. 

Glancing at the door one more time, Mickey sets his phone on his desk and reaches for his belt. He’s about to get it undone when he has an idea. One that might make up for the fact that he is definitely going to come before he gets home to Ian. 

Instead of undoing his belt and pulling his cock out beneath his desk, he palms it over his pants. He thrusts up into his hand, groaning in relief as his desperate humping finally starts to feel good. He knows it won’t take long; he’s too worked up, too close to the edge from just a few dirty texts. He works his palm over his erection, finding the perfect angle, fucking up as he presses down. 

The pleasure finally crests and he comes with a moan, toes curling in his shoes and head tipping back against his chair. It feels a little gross, shooting off in his boxers. He can feel his cum soaking the fabric, leaving behind a wet spot that will make it obvious to Ian what Mickey had just done in his fucking office, beneath his fucking desk. 

Once his breathing calms down and Mickey is sure that his dark slacks properly hide any evidence of his wrong-doings, he makes a quick escape from the precinct. He’s never appreciated the short drive more; his cum is beginning to cool in his pants. 

When he gets home, Ian is waiting by the door, naked and hard, just like he said he’d be. Ian shoves him against the door the moment it’s shut behind him. Instead of letting Ian kiss him, Mickey winds his fingers into Ian’s curls and pulls down until Ian gets the message and sinks to his knees. 

“You aren’t hard,” Ian notes. His hand comes up and cups Mickey’s cock and he pauses. Mickey is sure that the crotch of his pants is still a little damp and that Ian can feel it. Their eyes meet for a moment as Ian grins up at him like a kid who’s just learned Christmas is coming early. “Jesus, Mick.” 

Mickey helps him with his belt and fly, letting his head thump back against the door when Ian finally drags his slacks down. Ian groans and shoves his face into Mickey’s groin, pawing at his waistband and sucking what cum he can from the fabric of Mickey’s boxers. 

“You didn’t listen,” Ian growls at him, but he doesn’t actually sound mad.

“I brought you a gift to apologize.”

Ian groans again. He pulls Mickey’s soft cock out and begins to lick it clean. Mickey’s sensitive still and his hips buck away from the sensation. He can’t go far, though, with his ass still pressed against the door. 

When Ian apparently decides he’s tortured Mickey enough for the moment, he rises gracefully to his feet. “There wasn’t enough to share,” he says, leaning in to give Mickey a filthy kiss that definitely tastes like his own cum. “I’ll just have to share the next one with you.” Ian turns and saunters towards their bedroom, leaving Mickey to struggle with his pants on his own before he can follow his husband.

-----

Thanks as always to @gallavichthings!

[carisi-dreams]

here, have this mc!sonny fill that I got inspired to write after reading through earlier bits of the story.

originally mentioned here and comes after this: Talking to Emily.

///

The show cut to a commercial break and you turned the volume down on the television. Under where you were sprawled, Sonny was on his back on the couch with a hand tucked behind his head. He was relaxed and it was nice to have this casual affection back again. You’d missed this most of all over the last three weeks.

“I saw Carmen the other day,” you started in a tone that you fought to keep casual. “She really is still stunning.” 

Sonny hummed in agreement and remained otherwise silent. The picture on the screen flashed light around the room and you tried again.

“I know I said that I wasn’t going to share you, and that I would never okay the road rules, but—“ you cut yourself off when Sonny tensed under you. 

“I don’t want that,” Sonny said tightly. The hand that had been behind his head came to rest on your back heavily. “I don’t.”

“Okay,” you replied neutrally. “But if you did…” you trailed off and Sonny tensed up even more. The show came back on, but neither of you reached for the remote to turn the volume back up. “Carmen is beautiful and she’s a friend of the club. We know we'll have fun. I wouldn’t be opposed to asking her over and seeing where things go…Maybe we could make it a semi-regular thing? Once a month, or…well, I’m not really sure. I wouldn’t be opposed, though.” You were rambling.

“You want to have Carmen over once a month for dinner…and you think she’s beautiful,” Sonny summed up in a harsh tone. He was clearly confused and frustrated. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Not dinner,” you contradicted evenly. “A threesome, Sonny. I’m suggesting that if you feel like you wish things were…spicier, we could see if Carmen would be interested.”

“Spicier,” Sonny repeated flatly.

“I hate when you just parrot what I say in a different tone,” you said darkly. “Stop being intentionally obtuse. We’ve been together for a while, it makes sense that you may be wondering what else is—“

“Do not finish that sentence,” Sonny threatened in a voice that was just barely audible. “Don’t even think that—“

“You said you found Emily attractive,” you reminded him defensively. Who was he to be offended now? “I’m—“

“I got my ego stroked by someone who encouraged me to play the hero because I’m an asshole, not because I wish things were ‘spicier’,” he interrupted. 

You could hear the air quotes around the last word and you sighed heavily. Sonny sat up and dragged you to a half sitting position between his legs. 

“And I did find her attractive, but not—she’s not.” 

He sighed in frustration and tried again.

“It’s not about her being attractive—it didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t just about that. I need you to understand this.” 

His hands came up to your shoulders and he shook you gently despite his tight grip. You met his eyes and chewed the inside of your cheek.

“It’s about me being immature,” Sonny said quietly. He maintained eye contact with you and his expression was anguished, but determined. “It’s about me being insecure.” 

You twisted your mouth and tried to believe him. It’s what he’d been saying in so many words for weeks now. 

“I don’t think she’s more attractive.” You dropped your eyes from his gaze now and bit your  bottom lip hard. “Carmen either. I mean, she’s lovely, but I wasn’t interested in her in high school and I’m definitely not now.” He added the next part as an aside. “Besides, I think she has an ill fated crush on Matty, of all people.” Sonny just shook his idea at the idea of that and then shrugged. “No. No to this idea and no to sharing you and no to road rules and no to swinging or whatever else your brain is going to come up with next. No.”

“Okay,” you replied softly. 

“Look at me,” Sonny ordered in a gentle tone. When you met his eyes, he repeated himself. “No. I don’t want to share you and I sure as fuck don’t want anyone else. I want you. I’m attracted to you.”

Sonny laughed lightly and pulled you back into his chest.

“Doll, we spent $400 on a gun because you caught me watching gun kink porn. Once.” Sonny said with an air of incredulity. “You didn’t even think twice. I don’t think there’s anyone who would be half as spicy with me as that. You trust me to put a gun in your mouth.” 

His fingers drifted up to your lips and brushed over them lightly.

“It’s never been loaded,” you muttered. Saying it out loud like that made it sound like more of a gesture than you’d ever intended. But Sonny was right, you hadn’t thought twice about your willingness to try it.

“That’s not the point,” Sonny chastised. He shook you gently again and then tilted your face up to look at him. “Just you, doll. Just you."

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Hi, first things first I love your blog. The way that you have so much creativity and are able to handle the volume of asks is incredible.

I was wondering if you could do a couple of prompts about a serial killer, or eater, gobbling up his poor victims? Or a turn of Fortune where the final girl (boy in this case) manages to gobble up the villain.

Either way, thank you for your time. ❤️

Thank you so much! I have plenty of ideas from the stuff I think about, which is why it's probably easy to notice most of my content has pivoted towards rule34-style stuff. That's on my brain a lot more often. Anyway, it's also why I like sticking to the ask format for the most part, since it's really helpful when people have more specific ideas for me to center in on. Even as general as "Character with this type of vore" can be useful in centering ideas for me.

Also, I do love this idea, and I've kinda done it before with G.hostface. But I definitely wouldn't mind letting another killer get his chance to eat! So you'll be getting a story instead of prompts. Hope that's no trouble.

M.ichael's current desires have been...strange. The need to draw blood, the need to kill--he's quite familiar with that and settling it. But tonight, the urges were something deeper, different. The low, beastly rumble that came from his stomach was a reminder of exactly what he needed right now. And he had an entire town to enact it on at his discretion.

His first victim...prey was a pizza guy, stuck working at night. He'd only just gotten out of the car with the pizza when M.ichael was on him. He pins his prey to the car, his stomach rumbling harshly against the delivery guy's back. M.ichael didn't pay any mind to his yelling. He simply opens his maw wide, the mask stretching and opening with it, and snaps them down over the man's head. He gulps and slurps wetly, his immense strength keeping his prey still. Soon enough, M.ichael is tipping his head back and shoveling down a pair of kicking legs. His stomach bloats out, the coveralls he wears stretching to accommodate the new heft. Even with an entire person sliding down into his guts, they let out a low rumble, hardly satisfied with one meal.

M.ichael presses a hand down on his stomach and lets out a low belch. A hat flies out of his maw, landing on the seat of the car. The pizza guy is feisty, but M.ichael's stomach is strong, and it's already working on him. Not enough. He turns and heads to the house the car was parked outside of. A few hard bangs on the door, and it opened, a scruffy man on the other side. M.ichael grapples with him, taking the man by surprise and sending them both to the ground with a thud. Between his strength and his full stomach pressing into the man, he can't fight back, and M.ichael starts scarfing down his second prey head first.

The third came before he was done, someone else who lived in the house investigating the commotion just to find M.ichael laying on his stomach, the calves of his second prey sticking out of his maw. M.ichael wasn't sure of the relation, but it hardly mattered. This was just his third prey now. He tried to run, going deeper into the house. M.ichael follows, pushing the last of his second prey into his maw and sending him down. The chase goes to the backyard, the third prey trying to scale the fence while calling for help. M.ichael gets him by the ankles and shoves his feet down the hatch. The third prey's screams get louder, and he holds on for just a bit by gripping the fence. But his grip gave out eventually, and M.ichael slurped down his head and arms in an instant, sealing him away.

With three meals packed tightly in his gut, M.ichael sits down to rest. He rubs a hand slowly over his stomach, tilting his head as he watches it shift around. The bulges stick out like a sore thumb. Anyone who might happen to spot him would be able to tell that three men are packed away in his stomach, all of them fighting for their lives. But those lives are meaningless to M.ichael. They're his prey, and all he needs for them to do now is to die. In the quiet of the night, only the thick gurgles and muffled crunches of a predator's gut could be heard, occasionally drowned out by a low belch.

After about an hour, M.ichael walks out of the house, his stomach sloshing back and forth. It hangs low with the boiling sludge of his prey. With enough time, the harsh flexes of his gut and the potent acids it produced had reduced those prey down into nothing more than chyme. His stomach is only half the size now, and he'd be content to return to his home and let that meat process down into nothing. But there'd be a fourth prey on the way back.

Someone had been watching from across the street, and when M.ichael emerged, they stood in front of him. Even M.ichael could tell there was something strange, tilting his head as he stared down the man. But then his stomach grumbled as he took his dessert. There's no fight from the man as he's lifted up and sent down with hard, steady gulps. M.ichael wasn't accustomed to willing meals, but this one went down smoothly and curled up in his stomach amongst the gore of his earlier prey. He continues on his way back home, his gut still sloshing as he walks. Four prey tonight...maybe he'll have more next time.

[mscoffeesq]

Wolf and Bunny, Pt. 2

Hi, this is a series now that I’m collaborating with @grumpybunny-edith on!

Part 1- Part 1 [Bunny POV] Next Part

Day 0

“One seventy-five, eighty-eight.”

You stare at the screen in disbelief. Your heart starts racing and your blood runs cold. Something has to be wrong, it shouldn’t be that expensive for a single month’s supply of a single one of your hormones.

“Wait,” you try to keep your voice steady and grip the counter to try and shake off the feeling that you’re going to pass out, “is that with my insurance?”

The pharmacy tech gives a sad smile, “I’m sorry, I checked it three times just to be sure.”

Shit. SHIT. What the fuck were you going to do now? There’s no way you could afford that with a full week until payday, and even then that would end up eating into a good chunk of your budget. You thank her, and let her know you’ll be right back.

You’re trying very hard to focus on your breathing as you pull your phone out. Your anxiety has been at an all time high ever since you started this process, and you second-guess yourself constantly. Maybe this is a sign that this was a bad idea after all? Everyone you care about kept trying to talk you out of starting hormone therapy, trying to convince you either that the feelings you had would pass or that lycomorphone would fuck your life up.

Now you were being priced out of it. You scroll through GoodRx to see if maybe you can get a better price through them than your shitty insurance while meandering through the aisles. In the background, you can hear another girl arguing with the pharmacist; she seems to be getting pretty heated.

There’s about ten bucks in crumpled ones in your pocket from a tip a customer gave you last night, which you use to buy a Monster before moving outside- the argument at the pharmacy is only making your anxiety worse. You lean against the cool concrete wall of the drug store as you continue desperately searching for your medication on the mobile site.

After a moment, another woman storms out of the building. She’s muttering angrily to herself as she takes out a cigarette and takes up a spot on the wall near you. Holy fucking shit, she’s so gorgeous. An absolute badass smoke-show is standing right fucking next to you and you’re too big of a disaster to even form a coherent thought even though you desperately want to say fucking anything to make yourself look cool in front of her.

She seems to notice your distress, “Sorry, I can stand further away if this is bothering you.”

“No, no I’m good,” you respond quickly. Say something, dumbass. Literally, say anything. For the love of all that is holy, do not fuck up a chance to talk to a pretty girl like this. “Tough day?” Fuck it, it will have to do.

She lets out an annoyed laugh, “I’ve been waiting two weeks for my prescriptions, and they’ve been no help at all. They say it’s my doctor’s fault, but my doctor insists they’ve sent the prescriptions right on their end. Which leaves me without my fucking hormones, but no one seems to care.”

You start to feel angry on her behalf- how fucking dare they make someone suffer like that? Before your brain even realizes what you’re doing, your morbid humor kicks in, “Wanna set the building on fire? It probably won’t help, but it might make you feel better.”

She laughs. Like the hopeless romantic you are, you’re already picturing both of you picking out wedding dresses together. Get it together for fuck’s sake. “You’re cute. Thank you, but I’ll have to decline, even though it’s very tempting.”

She drops and stomps out her cigarette. “Hey,” she pauses and you notice that she’s blushing a little bit, “you’re a wolf girl, right? Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear you trying to get your meds.” She taps her ear, and you notice it twitch ever so gently, “Rabbit hearing. It’s one of the first changes you really notice.”

Did you just seriously start salivating? What the hell is wrong with you? You swallow and smile shyly, “Yeah, but I haven’t gotten my meds yet.”

“I noticed. Sorry.” She checks her phone then sighs, “Well, this is super annoying. I need a drink. Wanna hit up the coffee shop across the street? My treat,” she smiles.

“Absolutely,” the word tumbles out in practically a single syllable as you practically leap off the wall to join her.

She chuckles. “I’m Bunny,” she says while offering you her hand.

“That’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” Why are you so fucking dense?

Rather than getting offended, she laughs, “I didn’t pick it, actually. It was just a happy coincidence.” You take her hand. After a moment she gives you a look, “And your name is…?”

“Shit, right. Sorry. I’m Lou. Louisa.”

“Sure it’s not short for lupine?”

“It’s not not short for that.”

Hey, that was over a year ago now. Congratulations, you’ve managed to not fuck up this relationship so far! Idiot.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

What would be your dream surprise song mashup on (1) guitar and (2) piano?

Ok this is sooooooooooo hard because I have so many ideas and my brain shuffles between songs I absolutely would love to hear and what I think works best thematically or sonically 😂 And this is why it took me so long to answer!

Let’s try this:

Guitar: ivy x you all over me (I can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland, my house of stone, your ivy grows and now I'm covered in you / I lived, and I learned, had you, got burned, held out, and held on God knows, too long and wasted time, lost tears, swore that I'd get out of here but no amount of freedom gets you clean, I've still got you all over me / So yeah, it's a fire, it's a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it)

Honourable mention: Paper Rings x So High School (are you gonna marry kiss or kill me? It’s just a game but really I’m betting on all three for us two / cause I like shiny things but I’d marry you with paper rings, you’re the one I want) NOTE: I wrote this days before Taylor mashed up So High School with Mary's Song so I'm not copying her lol.

(Maybe this is just because I love Paper Rings and I'm so sad we never got a full production version of it during the Lover era or a happy version of it during Eras lol. Also, I have much sadder pairings to go with "Paper Rings" but just once I want to see it be a bop.)

Oh I also have a kernel of something like the Scapegoated Woman medley with Carolina/Cassandra/Clara Bow in my head.

Piano: evermore x So Long, London (I was catching my breath, staring out an open window catching my death and I couldn't be sure, I had a feeling so peculiar that this pain would be for evermore / how much sad did you think I had, think I had in me? How much tragedy? // and when I was shipwrecked I thought of you, in the cracks of light I dreamed of you, it was real enough to get me through, but I swear you were there / and you say I abandoned the ship but I was going down with it, my white knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment, and my friends say it isn’t right to be scared every day of a love affair when every breath feels like rarest air when you’re not sure if he wants to be there)

Honourable mention: New Year's Day/Peace, because they're my favourite songs on their respective albums. (Don't read the last page but I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes, I want your midnights but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day / And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches, give you my wild, give you a child, give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother, is it enough?) Again, I can think of much sadder pairings lol.

EDIT: I just remembered going through the surprise songs on Jaime’s blog that Taylor has in fact already done this mashup LOL. OK whatever, I want to hear it again.

Honestly I could do this all day lol. It's so funny because there are songs that I would loooooooooooove to hear acoustic, but I either can't think of a pairing, or I think of too many and too many directions. So this is my balance of my god-tier songs with thematically cohesive partners lol.

[ppersonna]

swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

♡ summary-  after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia​ @untaemedqueen​ for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks​ and @hongism​ for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.  

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. 

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily. 

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.  

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it. 

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water. 

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk. 

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.” 

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo. 

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?” 

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above. 

“You call Jimin a prince?” 

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband. 

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.” 

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.” 

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own. 

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.” 

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.” 

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid. 

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom. 

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed. 

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it. 

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can. 

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone. 

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway. 

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk. 

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read. 

He just matched with YOU. 

His best friend. 

His secret, lifelong crush. 

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it. 

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen. 

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other. 

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message. 

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone. 

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend. 

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone. 

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion. 

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff. 

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband. 

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line. 

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend. 

“It’s nothing!” 

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.” 

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off. 

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams. 

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback. 

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly. 

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures. 

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen. 

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. 

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is. 

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork. 

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you. 

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause. 

“What’s up?” He asks curiously. 

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner. 

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours. 

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own. 

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to. 

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator. 

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze. 

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”  

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face. 

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light 

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”  

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others. 

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park. 

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too. 

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth. 

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm. 

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing. 

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it. 

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face  down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck. 

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes. 

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently. 

“And I promise to never run away from you again.” 

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel. 

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself. 

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again. 

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with. 

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing. 

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss. 

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours. 

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly. 

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed. 

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?” 

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement. 

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.” 

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited. 

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle  his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs. 

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathes. 

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” 

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more. 

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.” 

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable. 

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan. 

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water. 

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently. 

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue. 

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue. 

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets. 

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully. 

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.” 

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body). 

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are. 

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down. 

“Still dreaming?” 

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire. 

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes. 

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart. 

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout. 

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?” 

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug. 

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing. 

“I plan to find out everything.” 

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.” 

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss. 

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you. 

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.” 

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body. 

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.  

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands. 

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.” 

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation. 

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.” 

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off. 

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air. 

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt. 

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation. 

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion. 

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship. 

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister. 

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

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© ppersonna - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[adelheidvonschicksal]

I could do a scenario where reader loves to mess with megumi's hair, but suddenly she stops because she thinks she's bothering him.

The first time you notice how soft his hair is was when you were returning to school after a long mission.

You were riding in a car with the entire first-year gang. Nobara sat in the front seat next to Ijichi while you were placed in the back between Yuji and Megumi. The ride back was a long one. After an exhausting day of exorcising curses, you were all tired. Nobara and Yuji ended up falling asleep minutes into the ride, leaving Megumi to watch the sights passing through the window and you shyly trying to make conversation with him.

It's hard considering the strong crush you have on your fellow classmate. He was intelligent, kinder than he really let on, and fairly mature (at least compared to the people you’re usually around). His good looks were the cherry on top of the entire package. Everyone knew Megumi was a pretty boy and often teased him about it. He had fair skin, long, thick eyelashes, and your favorite being his dark hair. It looked so soft whenever your teacher would pat his head, flattening out the black tresses and ruffling them, much to Megumi’s chagrin. But you really wished you could feel as well.

You were the type of person to show your fondness for others through touch. Some people liked it, and some didn’t. For example, Yuji normally had no problem with you touching him, even welcomed it. You weren’t brave enough to ask someone like Megumi for the same sort of relationship, so you kept your hand to yourself when it came to him. At least until Megumi fell asleep, leaning against the car door for support. It’s then you saw your chance and carefully reached to touch one of the longer spikes.

The little black point wavered at your poking, lightly curling around your index finger as you swirled it around. You giggled to yourself about it. It’s thicker and fluffier than you imagined and also incredibly soft, proving Kugisaki’s theory about a ton of hairspray wrong.

Suddenly, a bump in the road cut your touching short, and you quickly jumped away when Megumi’s eyes began to flutter open.

Suspicious, he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you said calmly despite your heart thumping under his gaze, but he dropped his interrogation as you all pulled into the school’s parking lot.

That was three months ago.

Now, the two of you were dating, and you saw that as permission to continue your physical intimacy with your more introverted boyfriend.

“Good morning, guys,” you greet your classmates and teacher with a wave, saving your happier actions for Megumi as your hand immediately goes towards his head to ruffle his hair. You pull your hand away but not before letting your fingers clasp your favorite cowlick. Giving a gentle tug, you let it bounce back into place with a smile.

Megumi groans softly, his mouth pursed into a slight frown as he goes to fix his hair back into its normal disarray.

Gojo claps, bringing your attention towards him. “Well now that everyone’s here, let’s go shopping.”

With that, the five of you head to the shopping district despite the heat bearing down on the city. You spend about an hour walking around before deciding to take a break so Nobara and Gojo can catch their breath in the shade while you return some clothes you bought a few weeks earlier across the street. Megumi and Yuji go to buy all five of you drinks, but it isn’t long before you hear Yuji yelling from outside the store.

“Sensei! Kugisaki! Fushiguro is getting hit on! We have to protect (L/Name)’s relationship!”

Before you could even stop them, they’re already up and running in Fushiguro’s direction. Sighing, you grab your card from the store owner and run to catch up with your group.

When you arrive, Kugisaki and Itadori are already clinging to him and ranting something about being in love with him before Gojo saunters up in his best casual wear to challenge them. You have to stifle back a laugh as he goes on about music practice and homewrecking before the event ends with Megumi smacking Yuji in the head as Nobara and Gojo stalk off, defeated.

Hearing your laughter, Yuji cowers behind you with tearful chibi eyes. “Do you see that, (Name)? Fushiguro is so mean. I was only trying to help him and that's the treatment I get .”

“You didn’t help at all. You were nothing short of embarrassing.”

You giggle at the two before reaching out to your silently fuming boyfriend. “No need to be so grumpy, Megumi-kun, or did Gojo give you too much violin homework,” you sing out teasingly, earning a growl about how it isn’t funny as you playfully scramble his hairstyle.

“And that! Will you stop with that?” Megumi demands and forcefully shoves your hand away. “It’s so annoying. You don’t see me petting you all day like some damn pet.”

“Oh,” you say, stepping back from him in your shock. This is the first time Megumi has brought up how you chose to dote on him. Yes, he’d quietly grumble about it from time to time like most things, but he never yelled at you about how you chose to display your affection. You guess you never really realized how much it truly bothered him. Biting back the hurt in your voice, you apologize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Megumi grunts softly in response, and Yuji decides it’s probably best to ask Gojo to take you all home for today.

It isn’t long after that Megumi begins to notice your interactions with him starting to change. He apologized for yelling at you soon after the event, but you were still much less touchy with him even after accepting his apology.

Normally, you’d grab onto his hand without so much as asking or surprise him with kisses on his cheek. Now, you only hold his pinky from time to time and only if he asks. You also stop your go-to of rubbing his head when you’d greet him or playing with the ends of his hair when you were bored.

Megumi thought maybe something was bothering you, but then he noticed how you’d still laugh and joke around with Yuji and Nobara, your hand gripping onto their shoulder when they’d tell an extra funny joke or affectionately patting them on the back. That wasn’t the worst though. The worst was when you’d absentmindedly sweep Yuji’s hair back into place when it got messy from training. The jealousy it sparked in Megumi was the last straw that makes him decide to ask you what was wrong.

You’re surprised when he tugs on your sleeve, interrupting your conversation with Itadori and Kugisaki. “Hey, can we talk?”

“Sure,” you say, nodding off to Itadori and Kugisaki before following Megumi to the waterspouts outside. You both sat together on the brick square surrounding the structure. It’s a few quiet seconds of you staring at Megumi as he folds his hands in front of him and lazily taps his foot. Dark blue eyes stare at you before dropping back to the ground.

“Are you still mad at me for yelling at you the other week?”

You shake your head. “I told you it’s fine. I’m not mad at you about that.”

“Then, it’s something else,” he decides, and he desperately tries to rack his brain for what else he could have possibly done wrong, “I’m sure I didn’t forget your birthday or anything. Do you not like me anymore or something?”

Gasping, you deny his claim, “Of course I like you, why would you think I don’t?”

“Because you’re not so friendly with me anymore like the way you are with the others, so either you’re upset with me, or you don’t have the same feelings for me as you do with them.”

“It’s neither of those things. With Yuji and Nobara, they’re both sociable people, but you aren’t like them. You don’t like all that kind of stuff, and I don’t want to annoy you by doing things you don’t like.”

Megumi scowls at your confession, sighing because he remembers exactly why you must be talking like this so suddenly. He specifically called your touches annoying, and he inwardly curses at himself for it. “You’re wrong. It’s not that I don’t like it…” he begins unsurely then pauses.

“Then, what?”

Megumi groans softly, an embarrassed heat starting to build in his cheeks as he quietly croaks out, “Feels good.”

“What’s that?” you ask, scooting closer so you can hear him better.

Megumi blushes lightly and cranks his head to look away from your cutely confused blinking. “It feels good when you do it,” he repeats robotically.

“When I do what?”

“When you play with my hair,” he hesitantly explains in more detail, “When Gojo does it, it’s aggravating, but I don't mind so much with you.”

Hesitantly, you ask, “So is it okay if I do it now?”

Megumi nods. “If you want.”

Cautiously, you lift your hand, pulling back in doubt a few times before ultimately sliding your fingers through his hair and rubbing. Megumi groans softly at your touch, and you realize that all those rushed noises of aggravation were actually him moaning from how light and comforting your touch was. You move your hand forward and backward some more, massaging his head until his head starts nodding and his eyes flutter a bit.

You giggle at him. “Are you falling asleep? You’re such a kid.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

You laugh louder as he scoffs to hide his embarrassment.

“In that case, you can sleepover with me tonight, and we can do this if you want,” you offer sweetly, and Megumi glances at you, thinking it over. As your smile grows and your hand hits that sweet spot right at the nape of his neck, he couldn’t deny that he liked the idea of falling asleep with you playing with his hair.

“I’d like that.”